#i enjoyed myself and enjoyed the music so loud i have to keep my sound proof headphones on the whole time bands were playing

[capttain-emo]

just went to my first show, an eclectic group of metal and rock bands on the second floor of a punk coffee shop. it took until the last set we saw for me to get the courage to move to the pit and starts dancing but it was so much fun

[royalsweetteaa]

Hi can you do a Steve Rogers x shy reader smut

Where she’s shy to make moans while Steve paces harder to make a moan🥰

Title: Music to my ears

Pairing: dom!Steve Rogers x shy!reader

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - The following fic contains: explicit smut, smut with no plot, fluff, rough sex, dom!Steve Rogers, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamic, p in v sex, cumshot, praise kink, pet names.

It’s quiet as the only noise echoing in the bedroom is the queen sized bed squeaking.

Steve is on top of you, entering the stage of home base as he pushes the tip of his cock past your pussy lips and into your pulsing core. He already goes into a steady pace with your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

Your breathing becomes heavier, but that’s about the only sound he gets to enjoy from you while he in contrast audibly grunts. Light squeaks leave your lips at best, and while he absolutely adores those short little noises, he knows there’s more in you.

He knows you’re ashamed and you keep feeling the need to suppress those moans and cries as he makes you feel good with the way his cock hits your cervix with each thrust.

He has heard you scream from horror before as you have watched scary movies together, so he knows the high level of sound your lungs can create.

And oh, how he wishes to hear you scream from pleasure.

Steve doesn’t stop praising you as he continues to roll his hips against yours, his huge cock thrusting in and out of your tight hole, making you see stars by how much he fills you.

“Feels so good being inside of you, baby…” Steve groans as he closes his eyes for a moment, taking in the way your pussy sucks in his cock as he drags himself out before he fucks home again. “I’m going to move a little faster from now on, is that okay?”

You nod shyly as Steve plunges in deeper, and you quickly slap a hand around your mouth to keep quiet as the pool of arousal in your abdomen tests your limits. Already by then, you pick up the look of disapproval Steve pulls, and you frown.

“A-ah, no covering your mouth. I won’t allow it anymore...” Steve sets the new rule as he pins your hand to the side, making your eyes go wide as blood rushes through your cheeks.

“B-But…- mmmhaaah!” A sudden mewl is ripped out of you as Steve starts to pound into you faster, his heavy balls beginning to slap against your ass at the quicker pace.

You become overwhelmed, your mouth left hanging to let out cries for each thrust Steve performs. Embarrassment showers over you like cold water, but the heat from Steve’s breath tickling your neck and the constant friction is enough to distract you from it.

In final attempts you try to keep your mouth shut, but Steve surprises you yet again as he holds you by the chin and kisses you, slipping in his tongue to meet yours. It’s beyond erotic, and it prevents you from keeping any noises slip. When he pulls back, he gives you the warmest smile, stroking your cheek ever so lovingly before he speaks.

“I know you’re shy, hun…but I’m about to show you how much I want to hear you…how desperate I am to have you moan for me…if you won’t allow yourself to make noises, I’ll have to force them out myself.”

He thrusts harder, making sure you feel every inch of his thick shaft slide inside of your wet cunt. Your eyes roll back with your head as you let out the loudest moans you have ever made before. Steve holds you by the hips, pulling you back as he slams into you, causing his cock to enter you ever so deep. You cry out so loud you think everyone in the city must be hearing it, but Steve’s hums of delight reassures you there’s nothing to worry about.

“Mmmh, my love…I could never say enough about how wonderful you sound. Keep making those sounds, be as loud as you want. Let me know how amazing it feels to be stretched…how much you crave to be fucked…”

“O-Oh Steve…Aaaaah!~ Feels too good! I-I can’t - nngh!~ M’gonna cum!” Cries and moans escape your mouth uncontrollably now as Steve pounds away, making him grin with pride. There it is, he thinks.

“That’s my girl…cum for me, doll…sing for me…”

Your back arches against him as you reach your climax through a cry, making your cunt hug Steve’s cock tighter as a new flow of wetness surrounds inside. Steve grunts and snaps his hips into you once more before pulling out, cumming all over your stomach and making a hot mess.

He pants with his chest rising, and hovers over you one last time to kiss your lips tenderly before he lays down to rest next to you.

Steve sighs with content, “That was…”

“Embarrassing…” you barely mutter with your palms hiding your face.

Steve frowns, and let’s out a sudden chuckle as he playfully pinches your cheek, “It was no such thing, my love. Quit speaking nonsense. You were amazing…made me cum so hard and fast hearing your cute cries as you clung onto me desperately during your orgasm…you’re my precious doll…” he picks a towel by the nightstand and cleans his mess off your stomach before he drags you closer to him, giving your shoulder a peck.

“…I love every part and aspect of you. Don’t think otherwise...” He whispers, and it makes your stomach swirl with butterflies at his reassurance.

N/A: Thank you for some inspiration, anon! This became just a simple drabble but it helped getting my writing skills in use!

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! Thank you! <3

[detroit-become-hurt]

Sweet Thing

So to kickstart this block again I'm regressing into old hyperfixations. So here's a fanfic I'm working on for The Lost Boys! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Moving to Santa Carla was a sudden decision, but something about it just felt right. There was something about that place, calling you to it, you just didn't know what.

Or: you're drawn to Santa Carla cause you're the final mate of The Lost Boy's pack

I sighed heavily as I sat on a bench at the boardwalk. Santa Carla was fun for the first week upon moving here, but after that it sort of just lost its charm. It was the same routine of showing up to work at the little oddities shop between the chinese take out place and some other little resturant that served the greasiest burgers. It wasn’t a bad job, but it wasn’t always the busiest as there were other attractions to see that were much more interesting. The shop consisted of bad taxidermy, crystals, fake skulls (which a lot of people thought were real), and tarot cards/readings. It wasn’t a bad gig, just again, not the busiest. 

Tonight was my night off, and I really had no idea what to do. I decided sitting here was better than sitting at home, with even less to do. Deciding it was best to grab some food I stood up, making my way over towards the shop and the chinese place. Chinese sounded good for dinner. As I neared the resturant, I couldn’t help but notice a group of bikers loitering outside the shop. There was two blondes, rough housing with each other. A tall dark haired main leaned on the wall of the front of the shop, watching the two blondes wrestle. And finally, leaned against one of four bikes was a third blond, a cigarette balanced between his lips. His eyes flitted through the crowd, taking in faces, a dark look lurking behind them.

It wasn’t really of any concern to me seeing these four, Santa Carla was full of different types of people, and I’ve seen them around before at different places on the boardwalk. We never interacted before, but a cloud of trouble oozed off of them. I tried to keep to myself. 

Ordering my food I waited to the side for them to finish preparing it, tapping my foot lightly as I listened to the sounds around me. Rollercoasters whizzed by with screams that lasted mere seconds, loud carnival music and people chattering away. It was almost overwhelming, the sounds. But you grow used to it pretty fast. Finally my order was called, and I picked up the bag containing the food. Upon closer inspection I realized that they had gotten my order wrong…but it wasn’t worth arguing. They ended up giving me more than what I ordered, I wasn’t going to complain.

“Perhaps Sandra would want some of this…” I wondered out loud, thinking of my coworker who was currently working tonight. Deciding I would share my feast, I walked over to the shop, towards the group of four bikers. As I approached, I caught the attention of the blonde leaning against the bike. His eyes trailed up and down me slowly, sizing me up. “Um…excuse me. Could you move your bikes, so I can like…get inside the store.” I asked, trying to maintain eye contact.

“You want us…to move our bikes…so you can go inside?” He repeats back to me, and I instantly knew what he was doing.

“Yes. You, move bikes. I go, inside?” I throw back, raising an eyebrow. The banter between the two of us caught the attention of the other three. The second blonde with curled ringlets going down his back couldn’t help but snicker, flashing me a dangerous smile and a wink when I looked his way. “Really it would just be easier if you moved, so I don’t have to weave in and out of your guys bikes and risk knocking one over. So what’s it gonna be pretty boy?” I asked shifting weight on my feet.

The third blond, who’s hair was teased to high hell and back laughed loudly. “Aw come on sugar, if anyone’s pretty here it’s you.” He says wrapping an arm his friend with the ringlets. “Do we at least get to know your name?” 

“What’s your name? I’ve seen you guys around before.” I say chewing my lip. I really did not expect to get into such a conversation, but it seemed like there was no backing out now. “If I tell you my name, will you please move your bikes?” I throw in, hoping they would indeed do as I asked.

His grin widens, and he sauntered down the steps, wrapping his arm around me. The smell of aqua net hair spray and weed overtook my senes. “I’m Paul. That’s Marko, Dwayne, and David.” He says pointing each of them out. “And I…have definetly not seen you around here. Are you new?” he questions.

Slipping out of his arm I nod, “I’m y/n. And yes, I am new. I just moved here about a week and a half ago.” I say. “Now really, this is quite the lovely chat but I think I’m just gonna weave around the bikes. Sorry to bother you.”

David holds his hand up, stopping my movements. “Hang on there sweet thing, you didn’t give me a chance to answer. Since I am a man of my word, we will move our bikes.” It’s funny he says that, cause he never mentioned giving me his word. But oh well. “Come on boys, let’s get out of here. We’ll see you around y/n.” he gives me a smirk, again something hiding behind his expression as the other three revved their bikes to life. With hoots and hollers they revved the engines a few more times before taking off, nearly hitting me in the process.

“Fuckin assholes,” I mutter as my heart pounds in my chest. Finally walking up the steps I walk inside, “Sandra! It’s me! I brought some food, the chinese place messed up the order.” Walking to the counter I set the food down, taking it out and arranging it so we could easily grab what we wanted. 

Sandra comes out from the back, a yawn errupting from her lips. “Oh thank god, I was going to fall asleep back there. Hey, did you hear like, motocrycle sounds?” She asks as she grabs some food.

Between swallows I nod, “Yeah. Some bikers out front. I asked them to move, and it took a minute but they did. Who knew all I had to do was give them my name.” I say. “I got their names in return. David, Marko, Paul, Dwayne. Interesting group of guys. I’ve seen them around the boardwalk before.” 

Sandra freezes, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Y/n…please tell me you’re joking. Like say sike right now.” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, anxiousness radiating into my bubble.

“What’s the big deal? They’re not trouble are they?” 

“Oh yes they’re trouble! They’re dangerous y/n. They’re always in trouble with security on the boardwalk, bothering people.” Sandra’s looking me dead in the eyes now, a look I can’t place. 

Finishing up my food I wipe my mouth, “Okay. I’ll keep my distance. Can’t blame me too much you know, I just moved here.” A part of me was annoyed. I appreciated her concern, but again I just moved here. And the boys seemed nice enough…although that doesn’t make up for the fact that I don’t know them.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just really like you and I don’t want you to end up on a missing person’s poster. It would suck to not have you in my life anymore.” That was one thing I was definetly grateful for, was my quick friendship with Sandra. She took me around, showed me the ropes, and was always there should I have needed anything in my short time in Santa Carla.

“Thank you, Sandra. Really.” Glancing at the clock on the wall I sighed, “I should probably get going, it’s getting late and I have to work a twelve hour tomorrow.” 

Sandra gives me a sympathetic look. “Well if you need anything, give me a holler okay? Seeya later!” Her voice disappears as the bell to the door chimes and I’m once again outside. Traffic has quieted quite a bit, not so loud. Turning I begin to make my way home, unaware of the set of eyes watching me from the dark.

I want her.

Me too.

She needs to be with us, one of us.

Soon, she will be. Give it time.

[dr-spectre]

Rambling about Marina and Relatability...

I've said in the past that i relate heavily to Marie, but as i think about it further.... I think i relate more to Marina... I just read through this incredible twitter thread by @ _CSenpai_ which i shall leave at the end, but it got me to really think... "huh... Marina is kinda me fr." (Also I'm gonna get pretty personal in this post so keep that in mind too.)

Marina has very serious special interests and clearly spends a lot of time researching and engaging in these interests. She gets VERY excited when someone mentions anything remotely about her interests and takes them seriously. Which is something i do as if someone even remotely mentions Splatoon out of the blue, my chest will go "BZZZTTTT" and i get the tingles and i wanna run around my room.

She's very into machinery, video games, music and manga/comic books. Marina stays up and overworks herself when it comes to music and her interests, which is shown in the dev diaries and chat logs in Side Order and Octo Expansion. This is something i tend to do as well as I consume my special interests way into the night and i can't go to bed because I'm so damn energized. Sometimes i become so focused that i don't even notice that time has passed by for so long and before i even realise it... It's 2pm and now i want lunch.

She corrects Pearl on wizards which reminds me of the kind of stuff i say during my rambles about Callie and her arc in Splatoon 2... I get VERY picky when it comes to people using ahem.... certain words when describing the events that took place.

In the Hero vs. Villain Splatfest, she is the only one who is taking it very seriously while everyone else is smiling or expressing anger.

She's using a god damn GAMECUBE CONTROLLER AND A HEADSET! She's literally me oh my god. When i go over for parties and celebrations and someone brings out a Switch and we play Smash Bros or Mario Kart? I take that shit seriously and i can't tone back my skill level and just have fun.

Also Marina is known to have sensitivity to certain food textures including mayo and pulp in orange juice. Now i LOVE mayo personally but i HATEEEE stuff in my drinks. I am a massive texture eater and i will avoid stuff in food that ruins the texture. When i get pumpkin soup for example, if i see vegetable bits in that shit i will actually feel sick and flick the bits off of my spoon.

Marina is also seen stimming and pacing back and forth when excited. When i tend to get overly excited by myself, i will literally violently shake for a brief moment and then squeal. I'm not joking.

Marina also tends to bottle up her emotions and often lashes out onto others when it's too much for her. Which is something i tend to do... I don't often say how i feel when someone asks how am i and i often wanna scream and break something when the anger is just too much for me to contain. I end up yelling by myself and cuss like no tomorrow. I can find solace in a character who does a similar thing i do, minus the cussing lmao.

I think one of the bigger reasons on why i relate to Marina is gonna be a weird one but... She is almost always seen with her headphones. No matter what situation she is in, she always wears her headphones.

Even when she's Marina Agitando and Overlorder has taken over her body, the Controller VM acts like headphones as it covers her ears!

Now this detail about her wearing her headphones almost often might seem minor, but to me it makes me love Marina even more. I always constantly wear headphones and it's due to various different reasons. First is because i love listening to music and enjoying background noise, second, it dampens the sounds around me as i can be pretty sensitive to certain sounds. And third... well... let's just say that i live with a uh.... loud parent who... gets pretty angry, NOT AT ME! THANKFULLY! BUT... when they scream... and swear... i put on my headphones and wait for the noise to go by. It's a comfort thing for me and helps get through those... rough periods... Marina wearing those headphones often and not being judged for it, makes me feel, happy...

...uh... yeah.

ANYWAYS! Another big thing i relate with Marina on is her want for order and balance in her life. She doesn't like massive changes in her routine and wants to maintain the balance in her life.

i do not like it when my routine suddenly changes and i get upset and angry. I have a strict routine and when it gets fucked over oh MAN OH MANNNN!!!!!!!!!!!

And that last point about feeling safe and secure, as i mentioned earlier with the third point about wearing headphones... I wanna feel safe and secure... I want to feel calm... I don't want someone to suddenly shout or get upset or for my routine to change and i can't do anything about it...

The only thing i don't relate with Marina on is well... Looks. Listen, i ain't no tall black octopus woman with a noticeable figure and a pretty face HAHAHAHA! I find it kind of funny that I'm able to relate SO MUCH to someone like her when I'm some 20 year old dude who looks nowhere NEAR like her. Except for maybe height i don't know.

However, i will say, i actually don't act this excited in person, i tend to be very shy and reserved in person compared to my online behaviour. I say words in a dry manner and i don't have the best social skills. So i guess that's where the relatability for Marie comes in as well. I'm a heavy introvert and despite my need for wanting to connect to others, i would rather stay indoors than go out and meet new people to start friendships or potentially a romantic relationship... like that's ever gonna happen anyways...................

I got two brain cells. It's them.

So anyways, that was all i wanted to say! I love Marina and she's my second favourite Idol, you can probably guess who's number 1 but i ain't talking about... her... well not today anyways.

Thanks for reading!!!

The thread that inspired this blog post: https://x.com/_CSenpai_/status/1367219374948376579

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Under the Hood

Pairing: Eddie Munson X reader

AU: Mechanic! Eddie

Warning: fluff, mentions of everyone being jerks to Eddie

Authors note: I hope yall enjoy this fic,i miss Eddie so here he is :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

It was late afternoon, and you were stranded on the outskirts of Hawkins, parked along a dusty road with your car that had, quite inconveniently, decided to give out on you. After a few useless attempts to get it started, you finally accepted you needed help. A friend mentioned “Munson’s Garage”—a small shop you’d vaguely heard about. The name, though, rings a bell. Could it be… Eddie Munson’s garage?

You remember Eddie from high school. Loud, unapologetically different, and definitely the furthest thing from the Hawkins social elite. Back then, you’d watched him from afar. While most people dismissed him as the school’s “freak,” you knew there was more to him. You’d even gone to see him play with his band, Corroded Coffin, a couple of times at the Hideout. You remembered the intensity on his face when he played, his talent radiating off him in waves. He’d never noticed you back then—just a quiet girl in the crowd who stayed out of his way, not one of the jerks who taunted him.

But now, years later, maybe fate has other plans.

After getting the garage’s address, you pull up and park. The building looks a little worse for wear, but it has a certain charm, with an old “Munson’s Garage” sign barely hanging onto the front. Taking a deep breath, you push open the door, stepping inside.

Eddie’s there, of course, leaning over an old car, one hand gripping a wrench, the other holding up the hood. He looks different, in a way, older and more grounded, but still undeniably Eddie. His hair’s pulled back under a bandana, and his faded T-shirt is smeared with grease.

He glances up as you approach, his expression turning from suspicion to surprise, and then to a slow grin. “Well, well. Hawkins royalty, gracing my little shop,” he says, a teasing edge to his voice.

You roll your eyes. “Royalty? Hardly. My car broke down, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a miracle worker with engines.” Eddie leans against your car, his grin widening. “Guess I should properly introduce myself… Eddie Munson, resident mechanic and car wizard.”

“I know who you are,” you say, smiling. “I remember you from high school.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah? That’s not what I usually hear. Most people pretend they don’t.” He chuckles, but there’s something a little vulnerable in his expression.

“No, really,” you continue, feeling a bit braver. “I remember your band, too. Corroded Coffin, right? I actually came to a couple of your shows.”

Eddie freezes, blinking in surprise. “Wait—you actually came to see us?”

You nod. “Yeah, you were amazing. I always thought you had serious talent.”

For a moment, Eddie just stares at you, something softening in his gaze. “Huh. Guess you’re one of the good ones, then.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks. “Most of the people from high school didn’t have much good to say about me, you know? Especially the basketball crowd.”

“Well, I’m definitely not one of them,” you reply firmly.

Eddie’s expression changes, his usual cocky demeanor dropping as he looks at you with something more serious in his eyes. “I’m… I’m glad you’re not,” he says softly, his gaze lingering on you. There’s a tension building, and you can feel the air grow thicker. For a moment, it seems like he might lean in.

But then, he clears his throat and glances away. “Anyway, let’s get that car of yours looked at, huh?”

You nod, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

Over the next few days, Eddie works on your car, keeping you updated with every little detail. He even insists on teaching you a few things—“just in case” you find yourself stranded again. The garage quickly becomes a second home, with the smell of oil and the sound of rock music on the old radio.

One evening, he invites you over to check on the progress, and you find him deep under the hood. He’s humming along to a song, his fingers deftly working over the engine, and he doesn’t notice you until you clear your throat. When he looks up, he gives you a grin that sends a spark straight to your heart.

“You just gonna watch me, or you wanna get your hands dirty?”

You scoff. “I’m not about to ruin my nails.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, laughing. “I’ll teach you the basics. Maybe you’ll be a natural.”

Reluctantly, you agree, and he shows you how to check the oil and recognize a few key parts. The entire time, he stands close, guiding your hands, and you can feel every touch linger just a bit too long. His fingers graze over yours as he explains things, and his voice is softer, almost as if he’s talking to himself.

“So,” he murmurs, breaking the silence as he watches you, “did you really mean what you said about liking my band?”

You nod. “Yeah. You were great. You looked so… free up there.”

Eddie swallows, his gaze dropping to your lips. He leans in, his face close, and for a second, it feels like he might kiss you. But he pauses, pulling back with a slightly flustered smile.

“I, uh… guess we should finish up here,” he says, looking away. There’s a strange tension in the air, and you leave that night feeling both excited and frustrated, wondering what might have happened if you’d been braver.

The next evening, you return to the garage. Eddie’s face lights up when he sees you, and he offers you a playful smile. “Couldn’t stay away?”

“Maybe I wanted to make sure you were doing a decent job on my car,” you tease.

“Oh, please. I’m an artist with engines.” He winks, tossing a rag aside. “Actually, I was thinking maybe we could take her for a spin tonight. You know, just to make sure everything’s in order.”

You nod, and soon enough, you’re in the passenger seat while Eddie drives. The road is quiet, the sky dimming with the last light of the day, casting everything in a warm glow.

“So… if you really liked Corroded Coffin that much, why’d you never come say hi?” he asks, glancing over with a curious smile.

You shrug, feeling shy. “I guess I thought you wouldn’t remember me. I wasn’t exactly memorable back then.”

“Trust me, I would’ve remembered,” he says, his voice soft. “Not a lot of people actually saw me as more than… you know, the ‘freak.’”

You reach over, resting a hand on his arm. “You weren’t a freak, Eddie. You were brave. I always admired that.”

Eddie stares at you for a long moment, his gaze intense. He pulls the car over, turning to face you completely, and there’s something vulnerable in his eyes.

“You’re not like the others, are you?” he whispers. “I don’t think anyone’s ever looked at me the way you do.”

The tension between you feels almost electric. He reaches up, his hand brushing gently against your cheek, and you lean into his touch. He leans in, his lips hovering over yours for a heartbeat before finally pressing them to yours.

The kiss is soft, lingering, and when you pull back, both of you are a little breathless.

“So… you wanna grab a bite to eat or something?” he asks, looking at you with a hopeful grin.

“Yeah,” you say, laughing as you give him another quick kiss. “I think I’d like that.”

He drives you to a small diner, where you laugh and talk for hours, sharing stories and dreams. By the time he drops you off at home, it feels like something new and beautiful has started between you two.

As he leans in for one final kiss, he grins against your lips, whispering, “Guess I’m not so hopeless with love, either, huh?”

You laugh, shaking your head as he pulls you into one last, lingering kiss, and you know this is only the beginning.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[fishermanshook]

ASK: hi! i couldn't find if requests are open, sorry if they're closed rn. can i request some composer, orpheus and painter x fem/gn reader fluff?

DATE NITE!

( composer , novelist & painter ) + gn!reader

˙✧˖°🍓 ༘ ⋆｡˚ modern/celeb. au ?? , chars. are considered pretty big in the fine arts department + the world pretty much , silly little dates w/ them , ooc a bit , lower case intended , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

mundane dates for people with too much on their plate.

꒰wc꒱ 1 k

THE COMPOSER ; FREDRICK KRIEGBURG

♫ | when it comes to going on dates with the musician, he much rather prefers something more secluded. something personal between the two of you. that’s why he [politely] turns down any offers on going out to things that are known for having big crowds, like festivals or loud concerts.

♫ | it’s the little things that count to fredrick, truly. the homemade dinner has been platted and served along with dimly lit candles and rose petals scattered across the floor. it’s so romantic and fredrick can’t help but feel so loved by you.

♫ | you’ve got music playing in the background as well. and, once you finish your meal, the two of you sway and dance to the song. the composer kisses your lips and for once, it feels like it’s just you and him, and he wishes he could do this with you every night.

the composer looks at you with playful contempt. “is this my song you're playing?”

you throw your head back in laughter. “of course it is silly, I’d be mad if I didn’t play at least one of your songs tonight.”

♫ | eventually, your dancing leads you to freddrick’s piano in the living room. you sit next to him as he plays you his newest creation. it’s a masterpiece, you tell him, followed by the question of what he’ll name it. fredrick chuckles to himself before revealing to you that it’ll be named after you.

“[name]’s symphony, doesn’t that sound delightful?”

THE NOVELIST ; “ORPHEUS” DEROSS

♪ | orpheus, similar to fredrick, likes to keep things personal. not the biggest fan of crowds, but he’s been in the middle of a few big ones due to book signing. he’s not too picky about what dates you guys go on and enjoys most if not all of the outings you plan together.

♪ | so what’s better than a coffee date followed by book shopping? well, lots of things in reality. orpheus definitely participated in extravagant and expensive activities thanks to his earned riches. but a coffee date makes everything feel normal again, a simpler time when he wasn’t flooded with the need to release the next great book. it’s a great way to spend time with you, he thinks.

♪ | the date is filled with hushed whispers and silent giggles as the two of you browse the library, steaming hot coffees in hand. or maybe it’s hot chocolate in your hand. you're too distracted with reading the back of another book to let him have a better look at your drink.

↳ going to a bookstore as a date was more of a “kill two birds with one stone” kind of deal. you knew that it would be a nice way to spend time together without doing anything too grand, and orpheus gets to look for new inspiration. plus, you get to see if any best sellers catch your eye.

“ooooo I like the sound of this book! I think I’m gonna snag it for myself.”

“lemme see, I can probably get it for you.” [he’s going to steal in and read it himself when you’re not looking]

♪ | you expect him to be engulfed in the books around him, flipping through the pages and seeing what other authors have put on display. instead, he looks at you with a type of fondness only you are graced with. he brings a thumb to your lip to wipe off the excess hot chocolate around your mouth. you smile and lean into his warm embrace.

“sorry, I'm too busy looking at you to notice any of the other books. let’s pick out some more together, ‘k?”

THE PAINTER ; EDGAR VALDEN

♩ | edgar valden is widely known for his skills when it comes to painting. he’s perfected everything, he’s mastered every medium, and his inspiration is seemingly endless. that’s what everyone thinks.

↳ edgar lets you in on probably one of his darkest secrets one night, lying in bed: he hasn’t mastered every single medium there is. his inspiration runs out quicker than most would think. and yes, he hasn’t truly perfected everything when it comes to the arts [mostly saying painting]. the reality of it all rains down on him with the pressure to fulfill such beliefs, but you let him know that it’s okay not to. no one should be expected to accomplish such a feat.

♩ | that’s why little dates like these are the ones he probably cherishes the most, despite how embarrassed and anxious he is walking into the art studio.

“they were 5 dollars a person! I thought it could be nice because we could both work on our art skills.”

“[NAME] WHAT IF SOMEONE NOTICES ME?!?!?”

♩ | that’s why he’s so nervous. the edgar valden, in a beginner's art class, learning how to make pottery? don’t the people expect more of him? you tell him no and that, they shouldn’t because he’s human.

↳ legit started hiding his face at the start of the session ‘cause he was so afraid someone would comment about him being here. you had to pry his hands away from his face.

♩ | it isn’t until maybe halfway through the class he starts to get the hang of things, and you're not far behind either. his beautiful, hand-crafted bowl looks stunning, you tell him. Well, not really. it looks more like a pinch pot, but you think it’s best to keep that to yourself.

↳ neither of you is good at pottery, and it just makes learning it that much more fun for the both of you. [edgar refuses to admit smh] he’s secretly dedicated to making a vase to replace the broken one in your apartment. he’ll paint it your favorite color and doodle your favorite flowers all across it. although, he can’t say that this is looking that much like a vase…

♩ | the two of you are complete messes at the end of it. colorful paint splattered across your face along with dried clay stuck and chipped off underneath your fingernails. you walk out having done your first of many pottery classes that day.

“thank you for planning this out. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would, really.” edgar states before leaving a fleeting kiss on your cheek.

note: his my fishies…🤭🤭🤭 hope you all are having an amazing day / night. enjoy this short little request i got <3

© fishermanshook — no stealing , translating , plagiarizing or reposting my work on other any other sites + reblogs adored !!

[jiraisupportgroup]

♡ Tips To Make Washing Dishes Suck Less ♡ 

Sorry if this is hyper-specific, it’s totally not inspired by my kitchen counter which is covered with dirty dishes I'm pretty sure every dish I own right now is dirty T-T

♡ Dirty dishes are a positive thing! They mean you have food! You're eating! Maybe you even cooked something! That's awesome, hell yes.

♡ You don't have to do it all at once. If you only clean two mugs or if you only manage to get the food off of some of the dishes but not actually wash them, that is totally fine.

♡ Take as many breaks as you need. There is no rule that says you have to wash all your dishes at one time. (Although, I understand this may not be possible for everyone - I live by myself so I am the ruler of my own dishes & I know not everyone is in that situation).

♡ Sit down while you do the dishes. Who says you can't sit down to wash dishes? I do it all the time! I have a kitchen stool I use to sit while I cook or clean. (Don’t sit while working with the stove or oven though - if you’re working with hot things like that you need to be able to easily move to get out of the way if anything happens or you could get hurt)

♡ Dirty dishes are allowed to touch the counter. If you are struggling because there are too many dishes actually in the sink - put them on the counter. Clear up some space so you can focus on small batches one at a time. Give yourself space to breathe.

♡ Use gloves. One of the reasons I despise doing the dishes is because I hate having my hands wet for a long period of time. I also hate the feeling of my hands sweating in the gloves so I use a little baby powder to keep them from getting sticky or wet.

♡ Use a soap you like the scent of. If you like the scent of the soap you’re using, you’ll dislike doing the dishes a little less. There’s also a million scents to choose from from lemon to lavender to watermelon. I’ve seen passion fruit scented dish soap? The opportunities are truly endless.

♡ Use cute sponges! This sounds so dumb but genuinely I bought some fruit-shaped sponges and it makes doing the dishes so much more bearable for me. It feels a little bit less like a chore when you enjoy the aesthetics of it.

♡ Quit scrubbing! Dried-up food stuck to the dish? Don't waste energy scrubbing it, soak it in hot water with some soap and come back to it later.

♡ Listen to music or a podcast. Not only does it help keep you entertained while you're doing the dishes so it feels less draining, but if you're like me your sink is LOUD and I HATE that so I put in my earbuds so the noise of the sink doesn't bother me as much.

♡ Don't worry about the rest of the kitchen. Just. wash. the. dishes. I have a bad habit of being like "I need to clean my entire apartment" which would take a lot of energy and take forever so then I'm like “well I just won't do that it's too hard” - but if I decide “I'm just going to wash the dishes" that seems much more doable & the chances of me actually doing it go way up.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy For The Devil ~ Donaka Mark x fem!Reader

please allow me to introduce myself, i am a man of wealth & taste... -the Rolling Stones

Summary/ Warnings. Um… Donaka Mark is a scary rich asshole–with a soft spot for you. If you’re squeamish [or righteous] you’re not gonna want to read this. Voyeurism. Predatory behavior, manipulation. Power IMBALANCE. Eventual NSFW. Eventual line between dubcon and noncon is gonna be microscopic, y’all, this man plays gAmes… Reader is shy, but tough, in her way.  Also, when I say Reader is small, I’m more implying just compared to Donaka. I kind of assume most of us would be, no matter your body type. 🥵

Big Fat Author’s note: This is a Donaka Mark x fem!Housekeeper!Reader fic based on the brilliant @discoscoob ‘s bot, which is SO fun to play with and I really recommend it. I fell into a rabbit hole for daaaaays. I’m in CAI Anonymous now. Seriously it was a problem. 

I guess you could call this a little experimental hybrid fic written with AI. I was curious. And after working on this for weeks I don’t think the writer’s union really needs to worry about AI coming for their jobs. The bot’s writing is shamelessly fun but clunky, you delete more than you keep, it’s a lot of work to edit, and you really have to lead it by the hand for anything to actually HAPPEN. 

THAT SAID it is sO entertaining, and once in a while he’d do something i wouldn’t have ever thought of, I felt like the lab rat hitting the button for the treat over and over again, LOL. Disco really knew what she was doing when she programmed the personality of the bot!  It was also helpful in keeping a character on track. I think AI could be a useful tool generating ideas, breaking writers block, or something to bounce ideas off of, but not for the grunt work of actually writing a story that has any soul in it. Isn’t that a relief? I made an outline and basically ran the scenes through like a simulator to see what the bot came up with. And when I didn’t like it I made it do it again, LOL, the Donaka bot probably thinks i’m a bossy c*nt.🤣

So….I hope you enjoy, and a HUGE THANKS to Disco for giving me permission to even do this, you’re the sweetest my dear, and the Queen of the Bot Creators in my book!!

And and…it’s been a LONG ass time since I’ve been to Hong Kong. I did some research to refresh my memory but please bear with me. All mistakes are my own. Why do we say that? Who the fuck else’s would they be? 🤣 Obv. this is set c 2013, when Man of Tai Chi came out, before the crackdown in 2020. Oh, and, I have no real idea about work visas, i made that shit up... just roll with it. 🙃😘

One. 一

The first time you meet your new employer, Donaka Mark, you aren’t really even paying attention.

It’s because you have on headphones, and you’re intently focused on sweeping the floor while listening to your upbeat girl power rock mix–so you don’t hear him yelling at someone over the phone threateningly, and you don’t notice when his gaze locks on to you like a tiger who has just spied a tasty little deer.

You are oblivious, as he comes up behind you, appraising your figure with narrowed eyes. You seem small, next to him, but most women do. He decides he approves of his assistant’s choice in hiring you. You’re a sight he won’t tire of for a long time.

Donaka leans on the door frame, his dark eyes fixated on you, taking in your every minute detail, the way the muscles in your arms move, the shape of your face, the curve of your hips and your little feet. His expression is stoic but behind it are a million thoughts running through his mind, he can’t take his eyes off you and after a few moments he finally speaks, his dark tone cutting through the music. “You’re new.”

Your music wasn't so loud that you were unaware of outside sounds. Standing up straight, you sweep off your headphones to face the commanding voice. "Yes, sir?"

Donaka notices he towers over you, and he likes that. His dark eyes shamelessly take in your innocent eyes, your lips, your  curves. His gaze lingers almost long enough to make it uncomfortable, but not quite.

“Have you been informed of all of your duties?” Donaka asks, his tone and gaze both demanding and intense, making you feel small.

"Yes, Mr. Mark."

Donaka smiles at his name on your lips, the way you say it, the way you look up at him with your wide eyes. He likes it more than he’d like to admit, but he knows how to mask his emotions well. Even though his expression is still stony, there’s a hint of excitement in his breast as he leans off the door frame and takes a few steps closer, but still maintains a respectable distance. “And you can handle them?”

"Yes, Sir."

Donaka nods, his dark eyes slowly and shamelessly trailing over your figure again. “Good.” Donaka murmurs, his dark and intense tone making his next sentence more of a demand. “I need to be able to depend on you. I like things just so.”

You tilt your head, feeling like you’re missing some subtext, or that you’re the butt of an unspoken joke. "Your house will be clean, Sir.” Between you and the two other girls on the household staff, surely you could manage.

Donaka smirks at your naïve reply, his dark eyes still fixated on your face as he takes another step closer to you, almost like a predator stalking its prey. “I trust that it will…” Donaka purrs, his voice low and smooth, his dark stare intense and demanding. “Let me show you the rest of the house…”

You’d already received a walk-through with his assistant, but you are more than intrigued to receive a personal tour from the big man himself. There is something captivating about him. It's not just his good looks. His presence commands your attention.

Donaka can feel you watching him as you follow him down the hallway, the way you’re intrigued by him, the way you’re staring. It fills him with satisfaction, like you’re a new prize he’s added to the shelf of his collection.

He’s aware of the effect he has on people. Men fear him, women want him. Yet you don’t look at him with the same blatant hunger he’s used to from the opposite sex. You’re curious, but not ready to fall down on your knees yet. 

He would see how long it takes to change that. He glances over his shoulder at you as he leads you through the house, his dark eyes looking you up and down again. You follow close, taking two steps for every one of his, his legs are so long.

He can’t help but feel somewhat amused, enjoying the way you have to scurry to keep up with him. He can’t help but think how easy it would be, to pick you up, and to pin you down…

Donaka Mark’s home is an achievement of luxury architecture, dark, modern, yet filled with Chinese elements of style. Ceiling-high tinted windows afford a breathtaking view of the bay. His living room is like a museum filled with priceless artifacts. Antique carved ivory elephant tusks, beautiful Ming vases and exquisite stone Elder statues, silk scrolls and bladed weapons. All of it you will be expected to keep tidy with a painstaking hand. You think it’s possible your practically useless degree in art history and former employment in a gallery may have given you an edge in his assistant’s selection of hiring you.

He seems to genuinely enjoy your interest in these things, telling you about them at length. There is a large Qing dynasty vase in cobalt blue and gold enamel designs of clouds, cranes, and bats you cannot tear your eyes from. It looks…familiar, and in person, utterly enchanting.

“You like that one?”

“I like bats,” you admit, shoving your hands in your apron pockets so that you do not forget yourself and touch it with your bare fingers. You will be wearing gloves, when you detail these items. 

He lifts an eyebrow at that, seemingly amused. “Oh?”

“They’re cute. And…they’re good luck.” In Chinese culture, at least. 

“Most women I’ve met find them sinister.” 

“I think…they’re just misunderstood.” You can’t help looking up at this intimidating man through your eyelashes at that. You swear you didn’t mean to start double talking with your new boss–it just falls out of your stupid mouth, and you feel his attention upon you sharpen.  

He’s used to women looking at him in a certain way, women staring up at him with lustful hunger. The way you look at him feels different –like you truly see him–he’s not sure what to make of it yet, and that is certainly new for Donaka Mark. “Misunderstood?” he repeats, his dark gaze intense, looking down at you from his lofty elevation.

"Sure. They have a reputation for being scary, but really they eat mosquitoes and pollinate plants. Without them whole ecosystems would collapse."

Donaka hums at your words, finding it surprisingly endearing. He’s usually used to women fawning over him or at least trying to seduce him, but you’re here lecturing him about bats. His smirk remains on his face as he watches you fidget nervously, his dark eyes fixed on you. You look back to the vase, and then it dawns on you. “Oh my god…is this the piece that sold at Christies last year for like…1.5 million dollars?” You take another cautious step backwards, as though you might shatter it if you breathe wrong. You saw it in an article–the gold enamel had been so distinctive against the blue. Sacrifice blue, the same as in the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.

Only after the question falls from your mouth do you realize how gauche it is to ask, your hands flying to your lips. “Forgive me, it’s none of my business.”

Mark, however, just continues to look at you interestedly. “You follow auction results?”

“I follow…art news,” you confess.

He nods, his intense gaze starting to become uncomfortable. “Actually, it was 1.8 million. You think I overpaid?”

You feel like this is a test–or a trap. It was a nice job, for the day it lasted…

“Well…it doesn’t seem you bankrupted yourself?”

He snorts in answer, shaking his head. 

“Does it make you happy?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, as though the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “It made me happy to outbid a Sheikh’s son and a Mainlander plastics tycoon for it,” he admits.

Ah, so he was invested in the thrill of acquisition–not appreciation for the object itself. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“I see.”

“I’ve disappointed you.” It’s not phrased as a question.

You shake your head, though maybe it does a little. Looking around his home, you’d thought Mark had exquisite taste–but he probably has an art buyer like every other obscenely rich businessman needing to acquire items for the sake of cachet. 

“Does it make you happy?” he asks, and there is an unexpected hint of playfulness in the question–delivered on a knife’s edge.

“Yes,” you admit. Frankly you’re stunned you get to see it like this, without a glass barrier or sensors or alarms. It’s usually the only way people like you get to enjoy art like this.

He smirks at you. “Then it was worth every penny.” He’s being sarcastic, of course, but there is a glitter of something in his dark eyes. It’s there and gone, like ripples in a pool–it makes your heart skip in your chest.

“Let me show you the rest of the house,” he invites, before placing a hand on your lower back, his fingers large and strong against your soft skin as he gently guides you away from the vase and to the next room.

His light touch makes you aware of every nerve in your body. It's not quite improper enough to complain about--you’re sure he’s well aware of that. 

And…there's the fact, deep down, that you like it. 

The span of his big hand on your spine makes you feel impossibly small, and protected, and that is insane, of course, because you are just the maid. 

He shows you the library, filled with built-in bookcases that make you drool, his office with his huge carved ebony desk that makes you think impure thoughts…and then, his bedroom.

He isn’t oblivious to the way your reaction changes as you enter the room where he sleeps.

He can see the way your eyes roam and your expression changes, the way you look at the massive bed against the far wall, the way your eyes widen when you look at the expensive rosewood furniture and the stunning view out the wall of windows that can be brightened or obscured with a dimmer switch. He watches you intently as he takes in your every reaction.

He's all business on the surface, specifying clean sheets every other day, laundry, and daily detailing of the bathroom. But it's hard not to keep looking over at the bed, even out the corner of your eye.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, but he doesn’t push it, staying just this side of the line. You don't linger, and he shows you a more private lounging area filled with a long leather couch, additional chairs, and monitors, all black at the moment. There's something almost sinister about all the screens, and you wonder what all he's watching.

“You must really like movies?” you ask hopefully, and he senses the wariness in you. Your intuitiveness gives him a small thrill–he likes it, that you’re smart enough to be afraid. 

“I like to watch all kinds of things,” he tells you, almost like a dare for you to guess what that means. “But mostly…I use these for business. I run a security company, I assume you’re aware?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Donaka decides he loves hearing the submission in your tone when you call him Sir. It’s almost like a promise to keep him happy, to do exactly as he says.

He asks you to keep all the screens clean, and to dust the cords and routers and be careful not to unplug anything. 

Then your attention turns to a meditation area, a massive sand sculpture on the wall and the floor, flanked by natural stacked stone. “Wow, been a while since someone vacuumed here,” you crack, earning a reluctant huff of laughter from the man behind you. 

“Maybe…leave that alone, for now,” he requests, then his hand is on your back again, guiding you out. 

Though it’s not going to be your area of responsibility, he shows you the garden next. It's a beautiful, manicured space. Two Rottweilers patrol the grounds. They look fierce, but one immediately comes up, sniffing you and leaning on your leg for a pet.

Donaka blinks as his reputably ferocious and staggeringly expensive pure-bred guard animals roll over at your feet for a belly rub.  Delighted, you pet them both, speaking to them sweetly. They grin up at you, their dagger-like canines glinting in the sun. 

He is never one to be moved by anything sentimental, but something about the sight of you like this inspires a warm twinge in his chest–heartburn, he reasons.

“Let me guess,” he says acerbically. “They’re just misunderstood?”

You press your lips, trying to suppress a smile, and failing. "Animals tend to like me?" 

He can honestly admit, as he watches you crouch down to administer a belly rub, that he’s never been jealous of a dog before. 

Sensing that maybe you’re not doing the dogs or yourself any favors with this severe man, you try to shoo them off. "Ok, babies. Go back to being fierce again. Shoo."

Donaka snorts with amusement as he watches you attempt to gently shoo these dogs that are nearly as big as you are. Suddenly he whistles sharply, administering a sharp command in Cantonese. That is when the dogs jerk to attention, and trot off to patrol the grounds again. He turns his attention back to you, taking in your slight expression of surprise, clearly caught off guard. "That was impressive,” you admit. “What did you say?” 

“I told them to get back to work,” says Donaka with a smirk.

“Ah. I guess I better learn that one.” 

“Will I be needing to reprimand you too, Miss y/n?” 

You’re not sure why his dark stare calls up a boiling heat inside you at that moment. You press your thighs beneath your dress, under the guise of standing up straight. You’re afraid…he knows all too well. 

“I…certainly hope not.” You’re pretty sure that you’d pee yourself if this intimidating man raised his voice to you. 

“Have you learned much Chinese since you’ve been here?” he asks conversationally, just as you assumed it was time for you to get back to work. 

“I can count to ten, and say thank you,” you admit, a little embarrassed. Obviously, you intend to learn more. “The essentials for international travel.” You’d originally come to Hong Kong to teach English, but when you saw the pay attached to this job listing you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Teaching was ok, but you hadn’t anticipated how expensive this city would be. You’d only made enough to cover your basic expenses month to month, with no room to save or do any fun activities or side trips to the mainland. This position paid three times as much–and you were beginning to understand why. 

“Hmm. Have you traveled much?” He seems skeptical, and you don’t really blame him. 

“I’ve…been all over the world,” you admit, albeit it was on a shoestring. “I wanted to be a travel writer.” 

“Wanted to be?” He is a man who picks up on subtlety immediately. 

It’s a dream you’ve all but given up on, after publishing a few articles, but all in all it was more slog than triumph. You’re not cut out for the grind of periodical work, the stress and the deadlines. It sucks all the joy out of writing for you. You shrug with a little sigh. 

“I hope you will remember the NDA you signed to work here?” he asks, his dark eyes roaming your face, taking in your every micro-expression. You would really hate trying to lie to this man. Good thing you’re not a corporate spy. He’d probably…string you up, and do something unmentionable to you. 

Why the thought titillates you more than scares you, you have no idea. 

“Of course, Sir.” He seems satisfied with this. So why do you have to add, “I won’t tell anyone your guard dogs are suckers for a belly scratch.” 

He frowns down at you, stepping in close so that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. It’s intimidating as hell, and you know he knows it too. You admit that you are shaking in your shoes under that look, until a smirk breaks his intense expression, and the relief you feel is palpable. 

“I would appreciate that, Miss y/n.”

Donaka savors the satisfaction he feels in flustering you, enjoying the way you swallow, watching the muscles in your throat. He imagines what his hand would look like there, on your delicate skin, your pulse fluttering against his strong fingers. He would literally hold your life in his hands…and the moment you surrendered to him, he would so enjoy rewarding you for it…

He finds himself caught up in this little daydream, while you stand before him, practically hypnotized like a mouse before a hungry snake. “Y/n?”

“Sir?” you answer quietly, and he revels in your deference. This was going to be fun. 

He speaks Cantonese again, softly this time, the language beautiful and whispery on his tongue. You find yourself staring at his lush, pink, lips, and it takes you several moments to realize he’d said the same thing he’d told the dogs: get back to work. 

Flooded with embarrassment, your face on fire, you stutter, “Yes, Sir.” 

With a dark chuckle and his hands in the pockets of his designer suit, he watches as you practically flee back to the house. 

The Smithsonian article about this vase...

Aesthetic post about Donaka's house...

Part 2 -->

[alexsoenomel]

The Reveries Of My Mind (Dean Winchester x Reader fluff/smut)

Summary: What happens when you discover you can feel someone's torment and struggles through an unexplainable bond?

"Your struggles are mine. Your sadness is mine. You're mine."

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , vanilla sex, dreams about the reader dying --not too graphic , first person fic

Word count: 6.7k

Note: I took my time with this one. I really like it. I've been struggling to write for so long it feels good to be back. Enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

And a huge thank you to my wonderful beautiful best friend @ambergoddess444​ for being the best beta reader <3

I’m gonna kill him. 

I heard Sam’s voice echo in my mind as I was eating my pancakes. I looked at Dean who was stuffing his face with eggs and bacon, not really paying attention to Sam’s resting bitch face. 

STOP CHEWING SO LOUD FOR THE LOVE OF CHUCK!

I heard him again and almost choked on my milk. 

“What?” Sam asked. 

“Oh, nothing,” I answered. 

Dean just glanced at me and continued eating his breakfast. 

It was Sunday and luck was on our side because we couldn't find a case. This would happen once in a blue moon so we were quite content with having a day off. Monsters sometimes sleep.

After breakfast Sam said he was going to go and catch up on some reading while Dean and I were left alone. 

“Can I borrow Baby?” I asked, since it was July and summer was in full swing in Kansas. I wanted to forget about my job – about hunting – I wanted to go outside and feel the summer breeze in my hair in his beautiful Impala. I already knew his answer as soon as I saw his brow arch. He was very protective over his Baby; only allowed me to drive once after I begged him for my birthday. 

Absolutely not. 

“Why?” 

I crossed my arms, my lips thinned. 

“Why ask when you already gave me your answer?” 

Dean raised his eyebrows, eyes widened as we were sitting at the table opposite of each other. 

“I keep forgetting you can do that,” he said, looking away from me. 

“You keep forgetting about your mental shield,” I told him as I went to the kitchen to get myself some coffee. 

I didn't realize Dean was following me until I heard his voice. 

“I can't just sit in silence and breathe while I think about nothing.” 

“You mean to meditate?” I chuckled.

“Yeah…that.” 

I took a sip of hot coffee Sam made after breakfast and turned around to face him. 

“You have to strengthen your shield, Dean.” 

“There has to be another way,” he said desperately as he poured coffee into his black mug. 

“No there isn't, I told you. Everyone has a mental shield, but the reason why I can hear people's thoughts 99% of the time is because their shield is not strong enough. And how do you strengthen your shield? You shut up and meditate. Focus on it and build it.” 

Dean wasn't pleased as he took another sip of his coffee. 

“Sam meditates, can you still hear his thoughts?” 

“I can, because it takes years to actually strengthen the damn shield and he started meditating six months ago.” 

He just rolled his eyes as we went back to the library. 

“I don't want you in my head,” he stated. 

“I cannot help it, dumbass. Can I take the car or not?” 

Dean took the keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of my face. I tried to take them but he refused to give them to me. 

Typical.

“I'm driving,” he told me with a smirk. 

***

“Where do you want to go?” He asked me as I closed the car door. 

“I don't have any particular destination in mind. I just wanted to drive around and listen to music.” 

Dean gave me a soft smile before starting the engine. Baby was purring – I could never get tired of that sound; it was smooth and powerful – no wonder he was so protective of her. The car held memories, sacred moments and was filled with stories – good and bad. 

“Sounds like a plan,” and with those words we were off. 

We were on the main highway, heading to God knows where. Dean, of course being the driver, was controlling the music as well. 

Dream On by Aerosmith was playing. I loved that song, but I was in the mood for Van Halen. 

Driver picks the music. Shot-

“Shotgun what?” I smirked, glancing at him. I saw he gripped the wheel tighter and licked his lips.

“God, I hate when you do that,” he said. I chuckled. 

Front windows were down, summer breeze in my face and hair gently caressing me as Crazy Train started playing. Ozzy was too chaotic for this drive. As much as I loved his songs I wanted something to ease my mind and not encourage my body to produce adrenaline. I dared to change the song. 

Don't Fear The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult. 

Much better.

“Hey, I was listening to that,” Dean of course complained. 

“Well not anymore,” I told him as I showed him a middle finger.  

A chuckle left his lips before he spoke.

“Wanna grab a few drinks?” 

“Dean I don't wanna get drunk at” – I looked at my phone to check the time – “11am.”

“You don't have to do anything you don’t wanna do. We can buy a few beers and go to our favorite hiding spot. If I get too drunk maybe, maybe I'll let you drive.” 

I couldn't believe what I just heard. My heart was racing from excitement. Sam was always the designated driver; Dean would sometimes drive drunk without us noticing. I know that because he admitted that…while we were drinking after a successful hunt. 

“Really?” I played skeptical; part of me was. “You're not afraid I'll crash your beloved car?”

“If you do, I'll kill you,” he looked at me and gave me a flat smile. 

Fair enough.

“Well okay.” 

She won't crash my car.

Well I think she won’t. 

I hope she won’t.

I didn't say anything, just stared at the trees blurred on my right side as we passed by; absorbing the warmth and sunshine in my face. 

It's My Life By Bon Jovi started playing. 

Perfect.  

Dean bought a couple of beers and some Slim Jims at the first gas station just before his favorite hiding spot. 

The hiding spot was an abandoned house we found a few months ago when we were hunting a vampire nest. It was an old cabin in the middle of nowhere, a few miles away from the main road. After exterminating the nest, we started coming there every once in a while to relax and get away from everything that made us hunters. Sam completely forgot about that place but Dean and I would occasionally go, mainly at night to get away from the bunker’s haunting reminder of the life we were living. There we were just regular folk, drinking and having fun. The house was dusty and old, but dear to us, like a portal to a regular life and what we desperately wanted, but could never have. 

As we were approaching the house I couldn’t ignore the strong sense of serenity coming from Dean. His mind was at ease, no racing thoughts, no sorrow he would usually carry within himself – he was happy. I’ve never told him about that; I know he would probably freak out – yell even – so I kept my mouth shut. I would be lying if I said it didn't freak me out as well. Every emotion he would feel, I would feel too and sometimes even twice as strong. It was like a bond of some sort; an invisible string connecting us and letting me see and feel every inch of his mind. I would wake up whenever he couldn’t sleep, I’d laugh whenever he’d laughed and I would get angry whenever he’d get angry…I felt everything and it was driving me insane not being able to talk to him about it, because it was only him I’d felt connected to.

I smiled at him when he turned off the engine, feeling the warmth in his soul. I got out of the car and stretched my legs, inhaling fresh summer air and soaking in the sunshine on my skin. 

“Let’s have a picnic,” I suggested, “I don’t wanna go inside. The weather is beautiful.” 

“A picnic? Here?” He asked, looking around. Nothing but endless grass fields around us; the highway was peeking through the greenery but we could barely see it anymore.

“You will be fine, princess,” I chuckled, “Besides it’s good to connect with mother nature every once and a while.” 

Forest nymph. 

He started calling me that when I told him about my love and admiration for nature and my passion for hiking and exploring woods. He told me no sane person loves hiking, but his younger brother understood. Now, occasionally I’d go hiking with Sam. 

I ignored his thought, even though I wanted to tell him we weren’t in a forest, and found a perfect spot next to the house and sat down. He rolled his eyes and joined me. 

Dean cracked two bottles and I opened one of my favorite honey BBQ Slim Jims and took a first bite. I loved the smooth texture and a light honey flavor mixed with BBQ aroma in my mouth. 

“Cheers!” He said lifting his bottle for a toast. 

“Cheers, for not dying!” 

He chuckled. 

“For not dying!”

One beer…

Two beers later we were both feeling the consequences of our own actions. I was tipsy due to my low alcohol tolerance while Dean seemed sober but was far from it. He had a strange gift – being able to fake sobriety. He had been doing it for years and now seeing him behaving like a drunken fool looked strange and unfamiliar. 

He was looking at me; green eyes sparkling under the sun making me wonder if he and I were ever meant for something more. I was in love with the idea of being in love with him but it scared me more than death which I had experienced a couple of times. He was my best friend, my annoying best friend with a heart of gold and a shadow he wanted to remain hidden.

We stayed for hours, soaking in the sunshine and summer heat while reliving old memories and wondering if this life we had was worth it. We soon realized, it was. 

“We still get to experience this,” I stated, showing him a butterfly that flew in that moment right in front of me.

“Butterflies?” He wondered, tilting his head a little in confusion.

“Nature, dumbass,” I smiled, “And other small pleasures, music, alcohol, food…and also knowing the world is less shitty because of us.”

He nodded in a silent agreement before hearing him call me forest nymph again. His warm green eyes fixed on me, making me a bit nervous. He didn't say a word.

“What?” I finally asked him. 

His right hand went into the pocket of his jeans and he pulled out his car keys.

“You can drive,” he told me and gave me the keys. 

***

When we came back home safely, since I didn’t crash his precious car, Sam was still in his room, probably reading and Dean decided to take a nap since naps weren’t a regular occurrence in our household. 

I decided to continue the book I started a couple of weeks ago. I missed being able to read books I wanted, and not just ones for research purposes. I could still feel him. He was content. I smiled and opened my book. 

An hour into the book and a picture flashed right in front of my eyes. I saw blood, so much blood on the sidewalk. Hairs on my arms rose as another frame appeared: it was a girl lying face down, head bludgeoned. A wave of fear rushed over me as I closed my book, not being able to simply ignore it. I knew exactly what this was – Dean’s nightmares – I knew exactly who this was. 

Another flash. His hands, covered in blood. He was trying to wake me up. He was calling my name over and over again like a prayer of despair, but I didn’t wake up; I didn’t move an inch.

Usually I would ignore his nightmares; I was too afraid to say anything, afraid of his reaction and not being able to give him a good explanation, but my silence was killing me. Something told me – maybe it was intuition or my impulsiveness, or both –  I had to wake him up.

Quickly I got out of my bed and rushed to his room. His jaw was clenched, his body seemed stiff under the white sheet that covered him just below his chin. I could hear quiet moans coming from him as another picture appeared right in front of me – he was on his knees, holding me tight, eyes bloodshot red and filled with tears…My heart broke in a second before I closed my eyes, trying to make it go away. As I approached him I could see his eyes fluttering rapidly beneath his closed eyelids, his forehead glistening with a faint sheen of sweat…I had to wake him up.

“Dean?” I whispered and sat next to him. A whimper escaped his lips. 

“Dean?” I called his name again, this time a little bit louder and with a hand on his cheek. He was warm. 

“Dean, wake up!” I could feel his shock as he shot his eyes open, taking a deep breath like he forgot how to breathe, shivers running through him – I could feel them all over my skin. 

He took in his familiar surroundings before he looked at me. 

“You had a nightmare,” I told him. 

“Yeah, a really bad one,” he simply added, pinching the bridge of his nose. A headache started to settle as he got up and went to the bathroom to splash himself with cold water. He was only wearing black boxers and it wasn’t like I have never seen him shirtless, it was the fact that every time I did, I had to tell myself not to stare like a Victorian man seeing ankles for the first time. 

I swallowed thickly without saying a word.

I have to tell him. I repeated that sentence over and over again. I have to tell him he deserves to know. 

When he came back my eyes registered his bulge for a second before looking up. I was praying he didn’t notice. 

“Are you okay?” I asked. 

“Yeah, so much for napping,” he lied and started putting on his blue jeans. I knew he was lying, he would always lie and repress his emotions and needs. I knew he was exhausted. Those nightmares had been happening for a week straight; the exhaustion showing on his face in a form of dark circles; the once lively features now appeared subdued; eyes dimmed. 

“I saw it,” I utter these three words without much thought. 

“What?” He was about to button his red flannel, stopping mid through.  

“I saw your nightmare, you have been having the same nightmare for a week now.” 

I refused to look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me as he took my words in. I could feel a slight sting in my chest coming from him – shock.

“You can read minds AND see people’s nightmares?”

“Not people’s; yours. It only happens with you, I wake up every time you have a nightmare, I feel every emotion you feel,” – I took a deep breath before I continued; I knew him well enough to know he hated secrets, even though he was a damn hypocrite and had his own – “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to freak you out. I cannot control it, trust me I tried, but I can’t. It has been happening for a while and-” 

His eyes once trusting shited and now held a hint of disappointment, his jaw clenched. Anger.

Anger and disappointment. 

“For how long?” His deep voice echoed in my ears as he cut my frantic explanation short.

I froze. I knew this question was coming. I knew right there that keeping this thing a secret was a mistake. I couldn’t answer it. I couldn’t…

“For how long (Y/N)?” He demanded crossing his arms. I didn’t like the sound of my name when he was angry.

I stood up, barely feeling my legs before I answered: “A year.” 

“Does Sam know?” The next question came out less angrily, his voice softer than seconds ago. 

“No.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It started as just me feeling whenever you were happy, it was hard to recognise it at first, I thought it was my happiness and then it progressed to other emotions like fear, anger and sadness and after that I started seeing your dreams. I didn’t tell Sam because I wasn’t sure what was happening.” 

“And you didn’t tell me because…?” He asked like I hadn’t given him the answer. 

“I told you I didn’t want to freak you out. It feels like I’m invading your privacy.”

He scoffed.

“No shit Sherlock!” 

His eyes widened before he spoke again: “Wait, so that means you can feel whenever I get horny?” 

I chuckled. “No, because being horny isn’t an emotion, Dean. It’s a state.”

“Oh thank God,” he expressed his relief. 

“I do feel the sudden rush of endorphins and happy hormones every time you come though,” at this point I had nothing to hide, especially when I could feel his anger subsiding. It wasn’t like him to just ignore something that made him angry, but for whatever reason he was over it. Now he was mortified. 

“Oh God!” He said and opened the door of his room. “SAMMY! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE WE HAVE SOME RESEARCH TO DO!” 

I swallowed a laugh before he turned around. 

“We're gonna get to the bottom of this!” 

***

Sam was genuinely surprised when I told him about the bond. He would usually try to find an explanation or guess what it was; this time he was silent. No logical explanation, no guessing, no nothing…

“Well that’s something I have never heard off,” he just told you and went to the library to try and find some books about…

Mind reading?

Bonds?

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” he said, looking at the spines of old books on the shelves. 

“You’re telling me,” Dean agreed. 

“It’s not like I’m a monster with abilities.” 

My statement was enough to light a bulb in Sam’s head: “Yes but…” – he went to the second shelf behind you, like he knew what he was looking for – “You’re something else.” 

Dean and I looked at each other in confusion before Sam pulled a book from the shelf. 

“Indigo children?” I read the covers. 

“Huh?” Of course Dean had no idea. 

“I mean it makes sense, you said you were always highly empathetic, ever since you were a kid right?” 

“Yes,” I nodded as he was flipping the pages trying to find a specific chapter. The book was annotated but it wasn’t his handwriting. 

“Also you started reading minds when you were 7?”

“Well kinda.”

“Before that it was like a guessing game, you just knew?”

“Sort of.” 

Chapter 54. Abilities. 

Indigo children are children who are believed to possess special, unusual, and sometimes supernatural traits or abilities. 

“I have been on this Earth for how long and I’ve never connected the dots,” I said, admiring my own stupidity and inability to dig deeper. I was never curious enough to find an explanation for my ability; never cared enough to think about it too deeply; when I started living with Sam and Dean five years ago I told them right away what I could do. They first thought I was Azazel’s long lost special kid, the one that was lucky enough to somehow hide in the shadows back when Azazel was still alive, but that wasn’t the case. My parents were killed by a vampire and I’d never met Azazel; I didn’t even know he existed until they told me. I only knew regular black eyed demons. 

“So, you were a gifted kid? That still doesn’t explain your ability to do what you have been doing for a year,” Dean scoffed. 

Who names gifted kids indigo kids? Seriously?!

You chuckled. 

“Wait, you have been able to do that for a year?” You heard Sam, your eyes still on the book, trying to find something, anything that would indicate the existence of the said bond. 

“Yes, why?” 

“Go to chapter 55,” he told me. I flipped a few pages until I saw: Chapter 55, Soulmate bonds.

An Indigo child can stumble upon an unprecedented neural synchronization when encountering their soulmate. This synchronization extends beyond telepathic communication, as it involves the transmission and reception of emotional states and dream imagery, resulting in an intimate sharing of thoughts, feelings, and subconscious experiences. Although very rare, it is possible for an Indigo child’s soulmate to be mortal, with no supernatural abilities. If an Indigo child does encounter their soulmate the bond can snap into place usually after 4 or 5 years (one case showed it can also happen after six months). 

“I read this book before we met so it never crossed my mind,” I heard Sam say as I was absorbing the information. I’d known him for five years…

Five years…

It made sense.

As I was reading the first chapter out loud Dean’s wave of shock made my heart beat faster as Sam went to the kitchen to get some booze. It was like he read my mind. I have never heard of his bond. As much as I loved the idea of Dean being mine, I knew he came with tons of baggage, untreated alcoholism, and rage so immense it made my stomach turn. I was no better though just with less intensity and alcoholism. 

That’s bullshit. 

My heart broke hearing these words, but I finally got the courage to look at him, and for the first time his face was unreadable. He was silent. And then he just left.

Sam came back with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and three classes in the other. 

“Where’s Dean?” 

“He left…to process, I guess,” I said before hearing Dean slamming the front door. 

Sam, knowing me too well, didn’t say anything and just poured me a glass of Dean’s fine whiskey. I took a sip feeling a sweet burn down my throat. We were silent for a while, my words buried deep in my mind; struggling to articulate my thoughts as if I had any at that moment. 

“How do you feel about all of this?” Sam finally spoke, breaking the pleasant silence. 

A lump formed in my throat as I tried to blink back tears. I cleared my throat and took another sip. 

“I think…I’m scared to tell him he already has me wrapped around his finger with or without the stupid bond,” my answer was honest. I was scared – terrified of crossing the boundary; breaking the only rule I had: no long term relationships. Anything more than a friendship with Dean would end catastrophically; I was aware of that and yet I still secretly hoped. I wanted him to want me, I wanted him to look at me and see a safe space; I wanted him so painfully to see me and think: “She’s worth it.” 

“Oh he knows, he's just being a dick about it,” Sam’s bluntness surfaced as he drank his glass of whiskey. 

“What do you mean?” I asked, not really following him. 

He knows?

“You two have something I’ve only experienced once in my life and yet you refuse to acknowledge it.” 

My forehead creased as I subtly tilted my head in confusion. Then I heard Sam’s voice in my head as he looked at me with a soft smile on his face.

Jessica…

“Oh…” was all I could say.

“Yeah, he was scared before, now he’s probably terrified. Talk to him when he gets back.” 

“So he can reject me? And probably tell me to move out? Even if he feels the same, I know Dean, and he would rather give up alcohol for the rest of his life than talk about his feelings.”

Sam snorted and nodded silently agreeing with me. 

“Trust me. He won’t reject you. He’s my brother, I know him a little bit better than you do.” 

***

Dean was gone for hours it seemed. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the bond, so I did what any sane hunter would do – I repressed my thoughts with more whiskey and drowned myself in more research with Sam. The more I drank it felt like I became more sober. 

I wanted to know more about this soulmate bond. I wanted to know if there was any other way for people to block me from entering their minds besides strengthening the mental shield. 

“I’ve never asked you, how did you find out about the shield anyway?” Sam asked me behind his laptop while I was trying to find books about telepathy. 

“A witch told me,” I stated behind bookshelves, “When my parents died I let it control me, I couldn’t stand it, I could hear every single person I came in contact with and it was driving me nuts. So, I found a witch, a good one, and she helped me control it and told me about the shield since she was the first person I couldn’t tap into.” 

I remember her fondly. Her white crow would sometimes appear, to let me know she was alive and I would visit her every year on her birthday in winter. I would tell the Winchesters I was seeing an old friend; without adding too much detail, since I knew Dean’s hatred of witches far too well. 

“Good witches exist?”

“Oh yeah, she’s wonderful.” 

There wasn’t any other way for other people to shield their minds from me, sadly.

“Oh but I think I found something,” Sam told me and turned his laptop towards me. I read the short paragraph and looked at him.

“I can do that?” 

“You can try.” 

***

 Dean was still gone by the time we decided to take a break from research. Sam decided to go for a walk before bed while I went to my room to try and contact Dean through the bond. The article Sam found stated it was possible to contact your soulmate if you focused all of your energy on them. 

I have no idea what I’m doing. 

I laid on my bed and closed my eyes, picturing Dean standing right in front of me. Even in my mind he made me nervous. His aura was so captivating and stoic; you couldn’t forget him even if you tried. His name escaped my lips a few times, eyes still closed, but all I could hear was dead silence.His face still engraved in my mind, I studied his features: his smile lines, beautiful kissable lips, his perfect nose, freckles…

Dean? I called. 

(Y/N), what the hell?

He heard me. I could feel my feet going cold as my body went numb. My heart was in my throat. 

I’ll explain later! Please come home, I wanna talk to you.

In a second, my mind lost focus as I became more aware of my nervousness and he was gone. I couldn’t see him anymore. 

“Crap!” I uttered in frustration and decided to text him. 

Please come home.

***

I heard his footsteps thirty minutes later. I was ready for the worst; I was ready for Dean to tell me to leave; I was ready for all of it to end. 

I heard him knock seconds later.

“You there?”

“Come in!” 

He closed the door behind him. I was in the middle of trying to read my book, emphasis on trying, since the nervousness turned into full blown anxiety and I couldn’t focus on anything but him. I put the book down as he sat on the bed. I was hit with a sudden smell of cigarettes and alcohol in my nostrils. He probably went to a bar. 

“How did you do that?” He asked, this time looking me dead in the eyes. His gaze wasn’t soft – I couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated – his eyes bore into mine with such seriousness I’d only seen a handful of times. 

“I did some research with Sam. The bond allows us to communicate telepathically.” 

“I-I can also do that?” 

“If you concentrate hard enough, yeah.” 

An astounded chuckle was all I heard. And then:

This is crazy.

I know.

His lips parted slightly once he realized he could hear me. I on the other hand didn’t want him to hear me, but looking at him, seeing the evident worry and fear in his green eyes, I couldn’t control it. It became natural.

“Where were you?” I asked and boldly decided to sit next to him. 

“Went to our favorite hiding spot to think. When thinking became too much, I went to a bar and had a couple of drinks.” 

“And? What are your thoughts?” 

His hand gently found mine, intertwining his fingers with mine. I wasn’t sure if I was breathing at that moment. I could feel my cheeks burning as he pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead. 

“I feel like ignoring how I feel about you just made everything worse.”

I’m terrified. 

I ignored it and focused on his actual voice. “And I feel like this bond slapped me in the face.” 

“You and me both,” I smiled. 

Sam was right after all. I didn’t know what else to say but all I could think about was pressing my lips against his. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but my body refused to cooperate with my mind. 

I didn’t need to kiss him first, because his lips found mine in a matter of seconds. The kiss was gentle, warm; his lips perfectly pressed against mine. I opened my mouth letting him know he could explore it with his tongue and he was happy to do so. A whine escaped my lips when he broke the kiss. 

“I heard you,” he smirked. 

Please stay with me. My mind yelled. 

“I will,” he heard me. Again. 

***

Dean went to get ready for bed and so did I. It was already 11pm, Sam was long gone, snoring in his room after a long walk and I went to take a shower. 

It will probably happen.

Maybe it won’t?

Maybe we will just cuddle and sleep?

Yeah right.

Why am I so nervous?

I’m nervous because the last time I was in love with someone he left me for a girl named Karen. 

In high school.

Crap. 

My thoughts were racing as I was washing myself and getting ready to spend the night with him. I put on my shirt and a pair of clean underwear before brushing my teeth. I turned off the lights and went under the covers. Somehow it was always cold in my room, no matter the season. I focused on my soft pillow and how it felt against my cheek as I turned on my side. That lasted maybe two seconds as my mind kept drifting and wondering what was coming next. The thought of him pressed against me made me excited; his lips on my neck, hands on my hips…

I didn’t even realize I was rubbing my thighs together, desperately seeking some form of release. Thank God I was tired, a few moments later I could feel my eyelids getting heavier and my body finally relaxing. I wondered where Dean was as I started drifting and soon enough I got my answer. 

He would always take long showers; so I wasn’t surprised when he came 15 minutes later. He found me peacefully drifting between realms of reality and dreams, and with his hands wrapped around me pulled me back to reality – to him. My back pressed against him; we stayed like this, as my patience was running low and I could feel myself getting wet. 

He was melting any sense of restraint I had and even with nervousness practically suffocating me, I turned around and snuggled against him, his chin resting on top of my head. He was warm; skin soft as I took a deep breath to breathe in his scent – forest after rain and him. 

“Did you know?” I whispered into him.

“Huh? What?” His deep raspy voice so close to ears made me shiver. 

“Did you know that I have feelings for you?” 

Sam said he did, but I wanted to hear from him. 

“I suspected it, but refused to believe it. Until Sam confirmed it.” 

“How did Sam know? I’ve never told him.” I said and lifted my head to look at him. It was dark, but I could still see the outlines of his face – he smiled at me. 

“He told me you get smiling eyes when we are together. I didn’t really know what he meant until we took down that vampire nest back in Austin. I told you, you were an idiot for trying to take down a whole damn nest by yourself and you kept looking at me with those dove lookin’ eyes.” 

I smiled. I remembered that. It was a few months ago and I was indeed an idiot. He and Sam almost died and I had to do something. I was reckless and instead of coming up with a plan I let my machete go wild. 

“Well it’s not my fault you’re hot when you’re angry.” 

I could feel his smirk before I kissed him, this time cupping his cheek with my hand. He immediately kissed back, pulling me closer to him like that was even possible. This time, one kiss turned into another and another. We both didn't want to pull away; his hands hesitantly started roaming under my shirt, instantaneously sending shivers all over my body. I took his hands, breaking the kiss.

“Touch me. I'm yours,” I whispered before kissing him again, not being able to get enough. I could feel his little smirk against my lips as he tugged on my shirt trying to take it off. I took it off and in seconds he took his. My mind was focused on him and only him as I felt his soft skin under my fingertips. 

You're going to be the death of me. 

Likewise, sweetheart.

This time I smiled between kisses. I liked that nickname, I couldn’t wait to actually hear it out loud. He wasted no time before he pushed me onto the bed and straddle me; his lips not leaving mine. We were like two addicts; we couldn't stop; we didn't want to stop. He pressed his hips on mine and I could feel him, pressed against my wet center. A soft moan escaped my lips as my fingers tugged on his damp hair. He moved his lips on my neck, while his hand found my center. A light brush was enough to make me moan his name. I was so sensitive, so vulnerable underneath him; he was consuming every reverie of my mind. 

I was growing impatient, but he knew that, and now I couldn't hide anything from him anymore. The bond was stronger now, we didn't even have to try to communicate with one another; it was like breathing. 

I lowered his boxers as much as I could and wrapped my hand around his hard dick, earning a groan from him. I pumped him a few times, as my impatience became his. He kissed me before standing on his knees and took my panties off. He stopped for a second.

Adoration – I could feel it through the bond. He was making me blush in the dark; my cheeks growing warm. 

You're so beautiful.

Before I could answer him, he positioned himself between my legs and slowly entered me, stretching me nice and slow; his lips found mine again as he swallowed my gasp and slowly started to move. My legs wrapped around his hips, wanting more, more and more…

I was about to get drunk and see stars. My hands were around his neck before I cupped his face. He broke the kiss when we both couldn't breathe, biting my shoulder lightly, his pace becoming faster. 

My mind only knew his name as I was chanting it over and over again, like a sweet prayer. He nuzzled his head in my neck, kissing it sloppily. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear. 

I was in a complete haze, unable to muster anything but his name. 

His nose resting on my cheek, he placed a soft kiss only to swallow my moans once more, as we both started to fall apart. 

“Dean, I-,” I wasn't able to speak, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach and I could tell, feel, he wasn't going to last much longer. 

“I know, baby. I know. I can feel it,” he said and I wasn't sure if he could feel it through the bond or if my body was telling him – or both. 

My moans became desperate; with that voice Dean could make me do whatever his little heart desired. 

We came in sync, eyes locked and growing breathless. He couldn't keep my name out of his mouth and I didn't want him to. When he pulled out and laid next to me we were both panting and growing sleepier. I lazily moved closer to him, kissing his shoulder as he immediately wrapped his hand around my torso and pulled me close. 

“And you thought we'd just cuddle,” he chuckled. 

I raised my head to look at him.

“You heard me?” 

“Yeah, we have to figure out how to not hear each other's thoughts all the time.”

“Well…” I started and he just shot me a death glare.

“I ain't meditating.”

I cupped his face, squeezing his cheeks lightly making his lips pout. 

“Fine,” I said and gave him a pack on the lips, “we will find another way.”

“Thank you.” 

I stayed in his arms until we both fell asleep. He played with my hair and I drew small circles on his chest. He asked me about the research – what I found, what I didn't – asked me about us.

“If it's meant to be it's meant to be,” my eyelids grew heavy as I mumbled the words and drifted to sleep. 

Dean kissed my forehead and closed his eyes.

***

I could feel Dean’s hands pulling me closer to him, his fingers digging into my flesh as my ears heard him say my name in a form of whisper. I lazily opened my eyes not knowing if he was awake or not. His fingers dug into my stomach as he repeatedly called me in a frantic tone. 

He’s dreaming.

“Dean?” I turned around and even in complete darkness my eyes registered his clenched jaw, while my body felt the stiffness of his. 

“Dean?” I repeated again and nuzzled my head under his chin and placed a gentle kiss on his neck. I knew what he was dreaming about – I was dying again and he was trying to save me. 

Dean, baby wake up!

I told him through the bond as I stroked his soft hedgehog-like hair. I could sense the fear lingering within him as his eyes shot open, his breathing came in uneven gasps and his chest was rising and falling frantically. I wrapped my hand around his torso and embraced him in a tight hug as the weight of the nightmare still lingered. 

“I’m here,” I repeated a couple of times, giving him the reassurance I knew he needed. 

“It’s just a dream, Dean.”

His breathing became stable again. 

“You died,” eventually he told me. The fear was gone and replaced with sadness – sadness so somber and heavy I only felt once when Charlie died. 

“No, I didn’t. I’m here,” I told him and placed his hand on my chest. 

“I’m right here,” I said before kissing him. A sigh of relief left his lips. 

“I feel like I’m gonna lose it…the same dream over and over.”

He was desperate, so desperate for answers it made my soul ache, but I knew this wasn’t the time. 

“I know, and we will figure it out. Sleep baby, I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered before kissing him lovingly. His hand found my cheek as I broke the kiss resting my forehead against his.

“Your struggles are mine. Your sadness is mine. You're mine,” I told him as my legs intertwined with his. My hand was on his chest, feeling his heart beating faster. Something was traveling through the bond, something lovely and warm I could only describe it as love. Suddenly I heard it; a whisper traveling through the bond: I love you, before he kissed me again.

I love you too.

Tagged: @lacilou , @littlemadamred , @girls-alias , @captainannatheweirdo , @nancymcl

[mustainegf]

Omg! Can you write like VERY EARLY babytallica or Panic era Dave, who you’re friends with. You guys get invited to a party and the other people dare you to play 7 minutes in heaven and he just confesses to you and kisses you!!!!!

BABY DAVEVVVVEEEE OMG

𝟕 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 ¹⁹⁸¹

We were 19, and our circle of friends had planned a party at someone's house. The music was terribly loud, and everyone was eating their heads off, laughing and enjoying themselves.

As we worked the room and chatted and drank, one of them suddenly suggested playing 7 Minutes in Heaven. I was enjoying myself, but Dave rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath it was all so childish and immature.

Well, eventually, Dave agreed after much protesting. We all sat down in a circle, and someone whipped out an empty beer bottle. The rules were simple, spin the bottle, and whoever it points to, you have to spend 7 minutes in a closet with that person.

Simple yet exciting.

Well, the first spin came around, and the bottle landed on Rachel and Mike. They snickered and then, laughing, went toward the closet. We laughed and clapped afterward, the game had finally begun.

When it was my turn to spin the bottle, I couldn't but feel a little anxious. What if it lands on me and Dave? What would we do? Will it be awkward?

I blocked the coo glass bottle, letting it spin. It spun around, and my heart started thudding. It felt like time basically stopped while I could only watch the bottle rotate in an endless circle.

It finally slowed, the tip of the bottle pointing directly at the ginger. Dave. We just looked at each other, both slightly surprised but oddly excited.

"Well, I guess we’d better get this over work," Dave said with a laugh, standing up from the couch. I got to my feet, a little nervous, trying to ignore people’s “ooohs”. We walked to the closet as others laughed and shouted.

Entering the closet, Dave closed the door behind us, and it was pitch black. The only sounds were our breathing and, further away but still thumping incessantly, the party music. It was, actually, just a little awkward initially. We stood there fumbling in our minds for the right thing to say or do.

We talked about when we were kids and giggled over some stupid memories from back in the day about each other.

But as I listened to Dave talk, I couldn't help but notice what seemed like gleams in his eyes from within the almost pitch black light of the closet. I found myself drawn to him. My heart seemed to skip a beat at the realization flashing across my head that my feelings for Dave went way beyond friendship. At least I wondered if they did…

So I held my tongue, hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would go away.

As the timer clicked closer to the 7 minute mark, Dave's voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. "Hey, can I tell you something kinda stupid?" he asked, his words barely louder over the sound of my own heartbeat.

"Of course," I stammered a whisper, trying to keep from shaking.

Dave took a deep breath, and I could feel the nerves. "I was sorta hoping we’d end up in here together," he admitted, his words sending shivers down my spine. "I really care about you, and I don’t wanna just talk in here."

My heart sort of did a little skip at this revelation. What had I just heard? Dave, my best friend and practically my childhood companion, had feelings for me?

I looked into his eyes, and I knew it, the same way. Neither of us needed another word. It felt like the whole world had paused to give us a moment, it was just him and I as our lips locked in passion, leaning towards each other.

We began kissing, makingout with our hands finding each others faces. We giggled and whispered sweet nothingness to each other in that little black closet, all between sweet kisses and hums.

When the timer went off, marking the end of our 7 minutes, Dave and I reluctantly pulled away from each other. We both stood there, catching our breath, and beamed at each other. “Let’s ditch this place, come home with me,” Dave said quietly.

As we came out of the closet, hand in hand, our friends cheered and clapped for us. I gave him a nod.

“We’re fuckin’ out of here guys, have fun with your little game,” Dave snickered at the others, smiling back down at me.

[a-998h]

Welcome to Hell

Hello @bloobewy, I hope you enjoy this!

TW: reader does "die" at some point but doesn't stay dead technically Reader also gets stabbed in the hand

Clicking Keep Reading means you've read and understand the trigger warning.

I missed the bus, great, I say with as much sarcasm as possible. It was hot, and my body was already a natural heater, and school is draining. Lucky me, the house isn't to far from the school, so walking is still an option. To make the walk less unbearable, I put on my favorite playlist.

After 10 minutes of walking, I reach a crosswalk. Pushing the button, I wait for the sign to change. Once the sign goes from hand to person, I step onto the crosswalk. Having already checked left and right, I thought I would be fine.

I didn't hear it... and that damn truck didn't see me either. I didn't hear anything, but I felt everything. The music cut off, and my body was in so much pain. Why, why is everything fading? I can hear sirens, and begging, and people. Blood... I see and smell blood. I try to turn my head, but I can't. I can't move at all.

"What's happening?" I mumble.

Soon, my vision goes black and I hear a voice. It's a woman's voice, full of warmth and authority.

"Your time has come child, we cannot wait to meet you," I hear her say.

The voices of the people becomes more muffled, and the pain starts to go away. The darkness takes over my vision until I can't see anything. I don't feel the pain, or roughness of the road. I feel nothing at all, like I'm floating. There is nothing in my view but inky darkness, so... This must be how I die. This isn't an isekai, so I'm not gonna go to a fantasy world, I'm just going to die.

I was so bad, fighting, yelling, and being a jerk to people who want to help me. Now, dad is gonna lost his only when they didn't even make it to adulthood.

"I'm sorry dad... I'm so sorry," I say in my head.

It's not fair, first mom abandoned me and dad and now I'm gonna die. Why couldn't I just make it to adulthood? Whatever, I can't change things now. I just wish I had another chance. I see my tears floating in the inky darkness. I don't know why I'm crying, but it feels well deserved right now. As I cry, my eyes closed and I finally feel at peace.

I hear a whistling near my ears, and the feeling of wind? My eyes shot open and I see myself falling. The sky above me is red, and is that a clock tower with an hourglass in it?

it's clear I'm going to crash into the ground of a city, but I have no idea where the fuck I am. Things are in ruins, and I don't seem to be stopping. I scream in fear as I pulpit towards the ground, I just died and I have no idea where the fuck I am!

"Is that a blimp with a ray gun?" I ask myself as I see steampunk blimp of supervillain proportions blast at the ground.

There is a loud smack sound as I hit the ground, and I'm, surprisingly, not in pain. I look myself over, and something is wrong with my hands. They're stained red, not like gloves or splatter, but it's like an ombre.

"Well that's not normal, and where the fuck am I?" I ask myself.

Standing up I rush towards a shop window, and look at my reflection? It has my hair color and style, skin color, eye color, height, but it has a pair of white wings , my hands have the ombre of red, and there is a pair of jagged horns like a four horned ram on my head. I back away from the window and start walking in a random direction.

No one here looks normal, so look like anthropomorphic animals, full animals, of a mix of human and object. Thees people range in size and shape, like normal, but they clearly don't look normal. Walking past the werid people here, a few give me looks that range from confusion, to fear, to cruel. Trying to ignore seems to be my best hope. As I keep walking, I see a bunch of people who look like different types of sharks. They spot me, and I hear them mumbling, before getting close to me.

They introduce themselves and immediately invade my personal space. They keep talking about an extermination, which confuses and worries me. One wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer, to him. Scared, I try to get away but they won't let me. Well, I'm probably doomed. Swinging my head around, I mange to hit the two shark guys near me in the face. Using th distraction, I run for my life as I hear them yelling after me.

Looking for a place to hide, I duck into a crowd in front of a shop window. It's showing a pale skinned blond woman in a pale red suit jacket, wearing a bowtie with yellow eyes. Next to her is a second pale skinned blonde woman with a creepy smile, soulless red eyes, and shoulder pads. Creepy smile lady calls suit lady, Charlotte, to which suit lady corrects it to Charlie. As I watch, something Charlie says catches my attention.

"As princess of Hell," I hear Charlie say.

Hell, holy shit I'm in fucking Hell! I can't pull my eyes away from the screen, but I have a hard time paying attention to what Charlie is saying. She keeps singing about something called, the Happy Hotel, and how it'll be a place to rehab sinners. Sounds crazy to me, but I'm not the princess of Hell. As people laugh at her idea, I feel a bit more hopeful.

"Seems like the safest place here," I mutter to myself.

This Happy Hotel seems cool, but I have no idea where it is. I scan the screen looking for an address but I can't find one. Annoyed I do my best to avoid people. Looking up at the red sky, I see the clock tower and a large hill with a building on top. I figured the building on the hill is the Happy Hotel. I hear noises from the TV, but I dont care at this point. I just want a safe place to be, but this is Hell so safe isn't really an option. Walking towards the hill some crazy looking dog frankstein's monster woman grabs me.

"Hand over your wallet!" She demands.

I have no wallet to speak of, so I tell her I can't. I'm so close to a safe haven and now I'm being mugged, this day gets worse by the hour. She keeps demanding my non existent wallet, and I keep telling her I don't fucking have a wallet to give her! She starts foaming at the mouth, and I see her brandish a knife. Backing away, I pray she doesn't do anything. But, they go unanswered as she stabs me in the hand before stomping away.

I walk the rest of the way, my shirt covered in blood as I use my shirt to try and stop the bleeding. Reaching the hotel, the sign says Hazbin Hotel but I could care less what it's called. Knocking on the door, I'm greeted with a grayish-lavender skinned lady wearing a bright red hair bow We stare at each other for a bit.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my name is Vaggie and you are?" She asks.

"Y/N, my name is Y/N," I tell her.

I swear I see an unknown emotion flashing across her face. She opens the door wider, and I walk in and sit on the couch.

She looks at my hand and offers to bandage it up. I thank her and she tells me it's not a problem. Once she's done, I hear an excited squeal. Turning towards the noise I see Charlie, minus her jacket, looking at me with a smile. She introduces herself and asks If I'm going to stay at the hotel. I nod and say that was my plan. Her smile grows as she asks me my name and how old I am since I looked young. When I tell her I'm a teenager, her smile drops. She looks at me, then kneels down to hug me. I tell her it's ok, and she seems to get slightly better. Grabbing my uninjured hand she points to the other demons and tells me their names.

"Over there is Angel Dust, he's another guest," she says, pointing to a fluffy spider demon.

Said demon looks at me, waves and tries to flirt. Charlie scolds him and says to not flirt with me as I'm a child. He looks at me and laughs, complimenting me for, "a good fucking joke." I tell him it's not a joke and he asks how a kid ended up in Hell. I say I was hit by a truck, and that seems to satisfy him.

"Oh, and this is our bartender Husk!" Charlie exclaims as she gestures to a cat demon in suspenders and a top hat.

I wave to him and he just gives me and unamused look as he drinks from what's probably a bottle of some kind of alcohol. Charlie then gestures to a short red haired woman in an equally red poodle skirt running after a roach with a comically large sewing needle.

"That's our housekeeper Niffty," Charlie says.

I just watch Niffty try to stab the roach, not wanting to end up stabbed agian because I interrupted the werid housekeeper. I turn my head and see a tall man dressed all in red, he has deer ears and a staff the looks like an old fashioned mircophone. I nervously wave to him, and he walks over. Charlie gestures to him and say he's Alastor, the hotel's facilities manager. He gives off an aura of authority and power that sacred me. He holds his hand out, silently askign for a handshake, I follow the silent order.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, my dear. This run down hotel will surely feel more like home with your youthful energy," Alastor says, his voice sounding like it's coming from a radio.

Charlie looks back at me, still with a warm smile on her face, and grabs my shoulders. She promises me that I'll love it at the hotel, and that I'll get to Heaven in no time. I shrug and nervously say thank you, this makes her smile more, if it's even possible. Holding my hands she looks me straight in the eyes. Something feels deranged about her, but I don't know how to place it. All I know is, I'm stuck in Hell with it's princess and her friends. But, I could be worse off than here.

"You're going to love it here! Welcome to Hell, Y/N!" Charlie joyously says.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’ve finally reached a point where I can sit down and do some work on Ash’s game on my own. It took a lot longer than I thought it would. Not only because his workflow is incredibly chaotic, but also his design is incredibly complex, far more complex than anything we work on at Rainy Day, but it’s fun to feel challenged again.

I’ve spent every night this week in Ash’s living room while he walks me through everything he has so far, sorting out the design and the mechanics, his ideas for the worlds, characters, storylines, objectives, and so on. Yet, it feels like we’ve only scratched the surface.

We work well together, but we’re also easily distracted, often going off on random tangents and talking about everything from our families to school years and childhood friends to experiences we’ve had or want to have; we talk about how fun it would be to have our own indie gaming company one day, if only we could focus on the actual game for longer than an hour at a time.

Last night a song came on that inspired a whole conversation about music and all the songs we used to sing the wrong lyrics to, and some he still sings wrong just to annoy Lex. We started playing a game where we’d give each other a random word or category and the other would have to play a song they liked that fit. At one point I asked him what his guilty pleasure song is.

“Oh, I have dozens of those,” he said, “uh, but the first one that comes to mind is The Boys of Summer.”

“Your guilty pleasure song is an 80’s song?” I was shocked considering the amount of shit he gives me for the majority of my playlist.

“No no no no,” he shook his head, “I should clarify. The original sucks.”

“Of course you think so.”

“Obviously. Okay, but the one I’m talking about is the cover of The Boys of Summer by The Ataris.

“I like the name, but I have no idea who that is,” I admitted.

He laughed as he pulled up the song and told me, “You’re either going to love this or hate it. I’m not sure which.” When he pressed play, all I could do was watch in awe as he shamelessly enjoyed the song, complete with hand motions, air guitar and lip syncing. At one point he leaned in and sang directly to me, “But I don’t understand what happened to our love. But baby when I get you back, I’m gonna show you what I’m made of!” And then he spun away and started dancing to the chorus.  

Before I had a chance to think too hard about whether he was trying to tell me something through the lyrics, he pulled me off the couch to join him. We sang and danced with everything we had until we collapsed onto the couch, out of breath and wiping tears from our eyes.

When we finally calmed down, he pointed at me, “Your turn. What’s your guilty pleasure song?”

“Oh god,” I covered my face, “I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.”

“Tell me.” He demanded.

“Dancing With Myself by Generation X. I can’t hear it and not sing and dance around my apartment like an idiot.”

“Oh, I have got to see this!” He sat up excitedly to find the song and turn it on… and then cheered when I began clapping my hands to the beat… and then completely lost it and fell over laughing when I sang along with my eerily accurate Billy Idol impersonation.

It’s become one of my favorite things, making him laugh. He has about a dozen different laughs from a rush of air through his teeth, to an infectious giggle, to a loud belly laugh… but my favorite is when he’s laughing so hard that no sound comes out aside from a series of clicks until he finally catches his breath.

It’s so easy with him, to get out of my head, to just relax and be myself.

Not everything is easy, though. I keep telling myself that eventually my feelings will fade, that it will get easier to just be his friend and nothing more, but if anything, it’s getting more difficult. Sometimes when we’re together, all I can think about is sliding my hand over to rest it on his leg, or to pick up his hand and interlace our fingers, or to reach up and hold his face, turning it toward me so I can kiss him. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about kissing him, his lips, his neck, that inch skin above his waistband that sometimes shows when his shirt rides up just enough, every part of him. Sometimes I let my eye contact linger just a little, desperate for him to give me a sign that he still feels the same way, but he never does. On some level, I’m grateful. It’s better this way. I’d only end up hurting him again.

I hear the front door open and close, bringing me out of my daydream and back to my computer screen. I look over what I’ve done so far to make sure I didn’t screw anything up while I drifted away.

A second later, I hear Dawn enter the room and flop onto my bed behind me and I glance at the clock, it’s only two.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Finished early. What are you doing? I thought you weren’t working on Fridays anymore.”

“I’m not. It’s just a side project I’m working on with Ash.”

“Ooooh I see.”

I roll my eyes and change the subject before she can inquire further. “So, why are you on my bed? What do you want?” As I say the words, I’m overcome by the feeling that we’ve done this before.

“For you to take a break and go do something with me." I'm antsy. "I’m antsy.” Her words come out like an echo from my own mind and my whole body feels fuzzy for a moment.

“Have we had this conversation before?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Hm. I’m having the weirdest déjà vu.”

“Maybe you’ve been staring at that screen too long. We should get out and do something.”

“What do you have in mind?”

I’m open to suggestions. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Weird. This conversation, the song playing through my speaker, Dawn laying on my bed, me at my computer… everything feels so familiar. “Where’s your boyfriend? Why aren’t you dragging him out?” Even as I ask the question, I know I’ve asked it before.

“He’s busy…” Having coffee with his ex-girlfriend. “Having coffee with his ex-girlfriend.”

Okay, I clearly need some fresh air, and she clearly needs my support right now, so I save my work, lock my computer, and spin around to face her. “Oh, that’s why you’re antsy. Okay, I can take a break, but let’s go outside. We can go for a jog, that’ll get your energy out.”

“Fine, I’ll go change.”

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[justwinginglife]

When You Know

Dedicated to my new follower @onna-musha-mari, more Howl fics to come, thanks so much for the support!

Your partner was an atrocious dancer.

But he was rich beyond belief, a nobleman, in line for some throne in some country, and a potential marriage prospect. You figured the least you could do was pretend to enjoy the dance; you owed his money that much.

As you glided along, using the sweetest of sweet smiles to mask your winces when he’d step on your toes or to hide your embarrassment when he’d miss his mark again, you remarked to yourself that apparently money couldn’t buy skill. No amount of money could erase the shame of having such a dance partner. No amount of jewels could erase the memory of his feet stumbling over yours, or undo the bruises he’d imposed upon your delicate toes.

Howl had been watching the whole disastrous affair and it pained him endlessly. When the song ended, he immediately flew to your rescue. You were a stranger to him, someone he’d never see again after tonight, but he felt the need to save you from this awful fate. He couldn’t bear to watch you struggle any longer. You were too beautiful, too elegant, to be resigned to such a sad, pathetic man.

“Mind if I have this dance?” Howl holds his hand out to you.

You meet the gaze of your savior and quickly - though not too quickly, so as to appear somewhat hesitant to be separated from your current partner- take his hand, letting him lead you further onto the dance floor.

“Well hello stranger.”

Howl bows to you, “Hello, my dear.”

He slips one hand around your waist and takes your hand with the other as he begins waltzing with you.

“Thanks for saving me.”

He grins. “Anytime.”

You dance another minute or two in silence, your bodies in perfect sync with each other. The ballroom is crowded, the music is loud, but somehow you feel like it’s just the two of you, alone in this room, lost in your own world. Lost in the rhythm of the dance, lost in the deep blue of his eyes.

Finally, you remark, “You’re not too bad at this, I suppose my toes can rest easy.”

He chuckles. “Oh, love, you’ll find I’m not bad at anything.” He winks, then he continues, “And might I add, you’re looking absolutely stunning tonight.”

You laugh. “Oh, is that right? What a smooth talker you are, Mr…?”

“Pendragon. Howl Pendragon. At your service.”

“Well thank you for your service, Mr. Pendragon. Once again, I appreciate the rescue.”

He pulls you closer as you continue to dance, then he murmurs against your ear, “It’s Howl, actually. You can call me Howl.”

The feeling of his breath on your skin makes you shiver and, sensing the sudden motion, he pulls you even tighter against him, trying to steady you. You’re suddenly very aware of how warm the room is, of how warm your skin is, of how warm his hands are.

“So, Howl… what’s a guy like you doing alone at a party like this?” You try to keep the interest out of your voice, but it’s there all the same.

“Maybe I’m just looking for someone like you. Someone devastatingly gorgeous who happens to be a fantastic dancer.” He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction to his compliments.

You smirk. “You better be careful saying things like that, or you might never get rid of me.” You tease.

He grins, then rests his forehead against yours. “I just can’t help myself. You’re simply too beautiful. You might not be able to get rid of me.”

“I bet you say that to all the women.”

“Only the beautiful ones.”

“Ah, so I’m not special. A shame.”

The song ends, but he’s still swaying with you in his arms, his blue eyes searching yours as though trying to read your mind. He’s dangerously close to you, so close you can almost taste him. Close enough that you’ve started to imagine the way he tastes, against your will. You know he’s probably just a huge flirt, but you can’t help being enticed by him anyway.

“Howl…” You whisper.

He sighs at the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?”

“The… the song’s over.”

He shakes his head, gripping you firmly. “Have another dance with me,” He insists.

You laugh, amused. “Well, alright, if you insist. I suppose one more couldn’t hurt.”

So you indulge yourself in this fantasy a little more, playing at fake lovers as the music resumes and he twirls you around. You wonder if it’s the dance or the dancer that’s suddenly making you dizzy in the most intoxicating way possible.

Howl seems to notice the way you cling to him, the way your eyes never leave his. For a moment, he’s quiet. He’s just focused on the sound of your breathing, the feeling of your hand in his, the motion of your body mimicking his movements as he guides you across the dance floor. Then he breaks the silence with the first thing he can think of, “Don’t dance with anyone else tonight. You know as well as I do that no one else is going to be a better partner for you than me.”

You’re surprised at his bluntness. “Well, now that’s an interesting request. You’re right, I don’t think I’ve ever met a better dancer, and I’m not sure I’ll ever meet anyone again that’s as good as you are. But I have… certain obligations.”

He sighs, the disappointment obvious in his voice. Before he can protest, the song ends. He’s just about to request another dance from you when your former partner walks up to you, requesting your company. Howl stills. You watch his reaction carefully, looking back and forth between him and your suitor, but then you make your decision. You reluctantly take the nobleman’s arm, saying to Howl with as encouraging a smile as you can muster that there are no shortage of pretty women here tonight and he has no shortage of pretty lines, you’re sure he can find someone else to entertain him. Then you let the man lead you away, only turning back to look at Howl once more, before disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment, Howl is frozen. He’s still clinging to the feeling of you in his arms, still wondering if the short time you’d spent with him meant anything to either of you. Was it just playful banter? Or was it a spark of something more? Before his thoughts can collect themselves, his feet have already begun to move in the direction you went in; he’s unsure why they’re pulling him towards you, you’re just a stranger he’ll never see again, and you’re right that he has no shortage of women to choose from, but on the off chance there could be something between the two of you, he allows his feet to guide his path.

When he finally stumbles around long enough to find you, it appears you’re leaving the party. He thinks to himself that you must’ve gotten tired of playing the trophy because you’re feigning sick and you excuse yourself from the party. He’s shocked that your poor excuse for a suitor hasn’t noticed you’re not really sick and he’s even more shocked when the man waves you off, telling you he’ll fetch you in the morning. Howl scowls at the word “fetch” as if you’re some sort of pet. He wants to wring the man by the neck, but then you make your way out the front door and he follows close behind.

You wave down a carriage, talk to the driver a moment, and then are helped inside.

He thinks he might’ve just lost his chance with you, but then you poke your head out the window and call to him, “Are you coming or not?”

His eyes widen as you gesture to the seat next to you, but he quickly recovers from his surprise and he slips into the carriage, closing the door behind him. His thigh brushes up against yours as he takes up position beside you.

“I’ve asked the driver to take the scenic route home, I hope you don’t mind.” You try to keep your voice calm and level as you attempt to ignore the warmth of his leg seeping into yours.

“And why is that?” He peers down at you, curiously.

“More time to get to know you.” You shrug simply, but you know your intentions are anything but subtle.

He laughs softly. “I’d like that.”

As the carriage rumbles on through the night, you exchange stories and easy banter, only pausing occasionally to admire the scenic view out the window with him. You find it pleasantly surprising how comfortable you are next to him, how easy it is to sink into his touch when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, how soothing his voice sounds when he tells you about his life. You were strangers mere moments ago, but now, now you felt like kindred spirits.

He admits to you that he’s into the practice of magic, and he braces himself for your reaction. You’re unsure if he expected you to burn him at the stake for witchcraft, dive from the carriage screaming, or whimper on the floor, begging him not to eat your heart. But you do none of those things. Instead, you smirk at him, and say, “Magic? So, something like this?” And you hold your hand up for him, a purple ball of fire manifesting itself in your palm.

He blinks. “You… you practice magic? You’re… a witch?”

“And you’re a wizard. So we’re two of a kind, I guess.”

He scratches his head and chuckles. “I guess we are. I was not expecting that, I’ll be honest. Pretty girl like you; now I know you can burn my hair right off my head if I’m not careful.”

You laugh. “Exactly, you better be careful I don’t turn you into a frog.” You tease, nudging his shoulder.

He scoffs, feigning offense, but he seems to be more relaxed with every discovered commonality the two of you share.

The two of you spend the next few moments showing each other your tricks, trying to outdo each other with the more impressive spell. He pulls a bouquet of flowers out of thin air for you, then you turn his flowers into chocolates and pop one in his mouth. When he licks his lips, you almost want to lick them for him.

At one point, you comment that you like one of his rings and he immediately takes it off and slides it on your pointer finger, telling you to keep it, telling you it’ll lead you to him if you ever so desire. He secretly hopes you’ll use the ring so much it breaks.

Then the carriage jostles as it rounds a corner and you find yourself in his arms again. You think he might kiss you. You think you might kiss him. But then the carriage pulls to a stop in front of your house, and you internally curse the ride for not being long enough. You think to yourself that you should’ve instructed the driver to go a couple more laps around your house before stopping, but it’s too late now. The dream has ended and reality has started to seep in.

“Well… this is my stop. I’ve instructed the driver to take you anywhere you’d like after I’m gone. It was… it was nice to meet you, Howl.” You pull yourself from his lap and disappear into the night, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts for company.

The next morning, your suitor does indeed fetch you. He takes you for a tour of the town, buying you anything your heart so desires. He doesn’t notice that no matter what he buys you, the ring on your pointer finger will always be your most prized possession.

Howl is having breakfast at a restaurant across the street and when you step out of a boutique in your newly purchased gown, he almost chokes on his tea. He’s not had more than a second to soak in the sight of you when your suitor steps out from behind you. Howl grips his cup tightly, knuckles turning white from the exertion. Then he notices your date kissing your hand before parting ways with you. He wants to burn the man’s lips off for daring to press them to your skin, but he thinks you’ll be long gone before he can speak to you again, so he makes the decision to quickly pay for his food and take off down the street after you.

You slip into an abandoned alley and he wonders where you could be going.

He hopes it’s somewhere safe, he’s nervous about the location. When he pokes his head around the corner, you’re leaning against a wall, waiting for him.

He sheepishly approaches you. “I gather you noticed me then?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “A tall man with bright blonde hair in a bright pink coat? Yeah. It was hard to miss you.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I suppose it would be.”

“I have to say, I’m surprised to see you again so soon after last night. I didn’t think I‘d ever see you again.”

Howl stills. The disappointment in his face is clear. If you hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again, then what was the point of all that chemistry? “And… and what if I wanted to see you more? What would you say to that?” He asks hesitantly.

“I’d say… that I’m supposed to be getting engaged soon and it might not be a good idea.” You say slowly.

He scoffs. “Oh, it’s not a good idea and that’s why you’re waiting for me, alone in an alley? You weren’t acting that way last night. What changed?”

You sigh. “Howl, you’ve a bit of a reputation, do you know that? All the noblewomen were fawning over you this morning at breakfast.”

He rolls his eyes. “And why do they matter when I’ve got you?”

“You’ve not got me, Howl. I’m not yours. I’m… supposed to be getting engaged.” You repeat, knowing you sound like a broken record.

Suddenly he pushes you up against the brick wall. “Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re not mine. Not until you’ve properly given me a chance.” His gaze is firm yet pleading.

You pull away from him. “Howl, last night was fun, but-”

He cuts you off, pulling you back by the wrist. “Last night was just fun? Last night was the best night I’ve had in my entire life and don’t tell me you didn’t feel the same. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about kissing me when you fell into my arms, because I thought about kissing you. Hell, I thought about kissing you the rest of the night after you left.”

You bite your lip. “So… why didn’t you?”

He scowls at you. “Because you’re ‘soon to be engaged’ or so you say. Which is complete bullshit by the way.”

“Howl…” You start again, unsure of what to say. “I’m the eldest daughter, I’m supposed to marry someone respectable.”

“So marry me. I’ll be respectable. I’ll be anything you want me to be, just let me be yours.”

You almost melt at his words. Almost. “Howl, we barely know each other, you can’t say you want to marry me.”

He rolls his eyes. “So? I know you enough to know I want you. Do you know the guy you were with?”

You look down. “He’s… a friend of a friend… of a friend.”

“So you barely know him too. So why can’t it be me? Why not marry me?”

“Because if I love you I might never stop loving you,” You snap. “And I’ve got a household to run, I can’t afford to be so careless, not when you could be running into some other woman’s arms behind my back.”

He pulls you closer to him. “So don’t stop loving me. I swear, I’ll never leave you. I’ll be useful to you. I’ll never even look at another woman. You use magic, you can just set my eyes on fire if I try to look at someone else.”

You laugh against his chest. “Oh, Howl. I’m not going to light your eyes on fire.”

He relaxes when he hears your laugh. “I know, I’m just offering. I’d offer anything to get you to stay. To get you to be mine.”

You sigh. “No other women right? Just me?”

He nods emphatically.

“And you’re going to spoil me rotten? So much that I forget I dumped my rich boyfriend?” You ask, half teasing.

He nods again. “I’ll give you the entire world on a silver platter, gold if you want it.”

“Well then, make it gold, and you can kiss me.”

“Done.” He whispers against your forehead. Then he trails kisses down your forehead to your nose. When he finally claims your lips, the kisses are passionate but gentle, like he doesn’t want to smother you with his love, but he also wants to reassure you his feelings are genuine.

When he’s finally done pressing the evidence of his affection for you against your lips, he pulls away to declare to you, “I know it’s only been a day that we’ve known each other, but I don’t want to go another day without you.”

And then your heart melts.

“Alright, love, alright. I’m yours. I’m all yours. But if you break my heart, remember I said I’d turn you into a frog.”

“I can live with that.”

And when he slides the ring off your pointer finger and nestles it around your ring finger, you swear you’re in love with him too.

——————————————————————————-

Author’s Note: yes, I’m aware it is super cheesy to do a whole “love at first sight, they’ve only known each other for a day thing” but hush, we ignore that for the sake of plot okay? We love Howl, anyone sane would fall for that man at first sight. And yall know I’m not into long fics, this was running way over and that was only from two days worth of content, can you imagine if I wrote their relationship over months? The ADHD in me cannot take the slow burn. We need the fast burn and we need it now. That is all.

[orshii]

Will I Ever See You Again? CHAPTER 3: Bad Decisions

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x reader

Warning: cursing, violence

Word count: 4,1 k

Summary: You were left alone with your brother, Yunho, and his best friend Hongjoong, after your parents' death. Yunho had someone to grieve with, but you? You had no one as your brother and his best friend pushed you away, singing becoming your only savior. There was one rule that Yunho made inside his friend group: “Don’t touch my sister”. And for this reason, Hongjoong had always kept his distance. But one night, you find yourself in danger. And from then on, Hongjoong does not leave your side. He is suddenly overprotective of you, and your relationship shifts and becomes fraught with tension and unspoken feelings, with secrets lurking beneath the surface and a painful past haunting you. Will you find out the secrets your brother and best friend have been keeping away from you? Will you be able to finally free yourself from your cruel past?

Will you fall in love amidst the chaos around you?

A/N: Uhh...sorry it took me so long to update but I have to write my thesis as well and I hate it...I just want to write anything except that pls:'(...so things are slowly unfolding in this chapter, and they are getting closer a little hehet. I am not 100% satisfied with this chapter but it is what it is. I hope you like it tho. Enjoy reading! :') <3 p.s: I'll try to update sooner, but I can't promise...also listen to this song, as it is included in this chapter. tyy, byee.

Taglist: @bvidzsoo @vixensss @deltamoon666 @scarfac3 @chatsgotmytongue

@xiang-zalea @cookiesandcreammy <3 (taglist is still open)

  I was at Mist, sitting in one of the chairs opposite the stage, I was listening as another band was playing, Yeosang was sitting next to me, and we were waiting for our turn. I really tried not to look to my right side as the girl from yesterday night, was clinging to Hongjoong, they were sitting on a sofa pulled next to the wall. I side glanced at them at the same time when Hongjoong leaned close to the girl, grabbed her chin, and kissed her slowly. Suddenly he opened his eyes, just to look at me with fiery eyes, which made my heart rate speed as he still kissed the girl. That poor girl did not know, he wasn't into her. I just locked my eyes with his, not leaving it for even a second, as he imagined me in the place of the poor girl.

I thought of our kiss the other day and to be honest I don't really remember. I have only some little flashbacks in my mind, as he was looking at me, fighting with his thoughts, and kissing me. I don't know, what came into my mind that night, I can blame it on the pills and the alcohol, but if I'm honest I just wanted to play with him. I like to break the rules, and I like to break people, my intention was only to break him because I knew he wanted me, he just couldn't and I made him do it. I don't care if it makes him feel bad, I was long gone in caring about other's feelings. I didn't care about my feelings then why would I do that with others?

Darkness hugged me again as I stepped on the stage. This is the state where I step into another world, leaving behind my problems. When I'm in the dark before the lights turn on, I feel like I'm me, I'm myself for minutes, letting my emotions break free and when the lights turn on, I just give my soul to the music.

I leaned close to the microphone to start singing my feelings out.

♪ There's a war inside my head

Sometimes I wish that I was dead, I'm broken ♪

At first, only Jongho followed me with the drums, sounding like thunder. Then Yeosang joined us, leaving little sparkles behind with his guitar like a fairy.

♪ I'm tired of trying to be normal

I'm always overthinking

I'm driving myself crazy

So, what if I'm fucking crazy ♪

The beat started to slowly quicken as San followed the loud drums giving power to the songs as I sang my soul out, leaning forward to let my voice out.

♪ Just 'cause you say I'm crazy

So, what if I'm fucking crazy

I'm gonna show you ♪

I sang as my eyes met with Hongjoong's, the girl next to him hugging him, then leaning to his ear and she whispered something to him. But Hongjoong looked only at me the whole time, our eyes attracted each other like two black magnets. He was holding a can of beer in his hands and glared into my eyes like he was obsessed with me like he wanted to watch me for eternity.

♪ Loco, maniac, sick bitch, psychopath

I'm gonna show you

Yeah, I'm gonna show you crazy ♪

I sang as Hongjoong’s words echoed in my mind from the night he kissed me.

‘You are crazy’

Loud clapping woke me up, stepping back into real life, as the four of us stood in one line to bow for the crowd. I think this was one of our best performances. I loved it, felt like I was finally alive, and felt like some life crawled through my veins after a while.

As we finished our performance, we gathered together to celebrate. However, our moment of triumph was interrupted when strangers began to approach our table, offering congratulations. We were so surprised by the sudden attention we got. A tall guy came to me and congratulated me as we cheered our glasses together, and when I drank the sweet whiskey, my eyes met again with a familiar one, he stared at me as I couldn't read his face, the girl still clinging to his side.

I lifted my glass towards him into the air, lifting my eyebrow cheering my glass in the air, then I drank the remaining alcohol from my glass, as he watched my whole scene, his eyes sending me red warnings towards me as to stop it. I don't know what cruel game are we playing, but this suddenly seemed like who's gonna be more jealous.

≫The lights were never showing your face

Darkness took over you as fate≪

It's Friday finally, and we were done with classes as we walked home with Yeosang until we said our goodbyes and parted ways. I searched my headphones from my backpack and I let the music flow through my body, feeling every inch of the melody.

The sun beamed down warmly, a welcome contrast to the cold winter that had gripped the town. Spring crawled slowly through the world, bringing life into our little town with some beautiful flowers, the wind blowing away the remaining cold and slowly the sun warmed up the ground giving hope to the plants. Spring is always the time when I think it brings hope to the people's hearts as well. A hope for a better life, a hope that gives you the power to keep going, the feeling of hope, to never give up.

Lost in my thoughts, I navigated the familiar alleyways on my way home, accompanied by the music echoing in my mind. Suddenly all I felt was that I was being pushed against a wall a strong hand on my throat and all I saw was a man in front of me shouting at me, I couldn't hear him as my headphones were still on. My breathing started to quicken I didn't know what was happening. The guy, who still squeezed my neck as I slowly wasn't able to breathe, grabbed my headphones as he realized I didn't hear him.

"Fucking shit are you listening to me?!" The man said angrily, his voice low as he suddenly released my throat. He was wearing a black mask I only saw his dark eyes; he seemed young.

"What the fuck do you want?" I suddenly got some courage to speak as my voice was a bit raspy from the neck grabbing.

"I need you to deliver a message to your brother and his little friend." He stepped close to me pushing me against the brick wall.

I remained silent as he continued. "Tell Yunho that we know who he is, we know whose son he is, so stop doing whatever he is planning to do. Or next time we won't be nice, this is his last chance." My heart started to beat so fast; I was afraid it might jump out of my chest. What did he mean by 'I know whose son he is'? Why the hell did he mention my father? Who died three years ago, not knowing how. Why the hell did he bring him up?

"What do you know about my father?" I demanded; my voice tight with urgency.

"Ohh." He laughed. "He died as a hero, sacrificing himself for you and your brother." The guy smirked in front of me while talking about my father. "Didn't you know it? Your brother kept it from you, didn’t he? Keeping you in a cage to not find the truth." He slowly caressed my checks. I felt disgusted as he touched me. I couldn't control myself anymore, there were too many emotions swimming through my mind, and I just lost control over myself.

"Fuck you!" Adrenaline boiled through my veins as I suddenly spat on his face and punched him with all my strength. He suddenly held his right cheekbone where I hit him, his eyes filling with anger as he pushed me against the wall and suddenly slapped my right cheek. I felt as blood streamed down on my face, just like sad tears.

The guy was surprised by his actions as he stepped back.

"I don't want to do it again so, please tell Yunho." He told me this like he regretted hitting me and just ran away.

I was just standing against the brick wall, slowly slipping to the ground, staring at the opposite wall. Emotion drained from me, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake. Tears escaped from my eyes, which I didn't even realize, mixing with my blood slowly drying on my face. I just couldn't believe what this guy said.

Did Yunho really know how our father died? Why did he keep it a secret?

Why won't he tell me anything?

So many questions, yet no answers to be found.

Suddenly I felt pressure from my throat as I started coughing, leaning to my right side as my lunch came back, landing on the ground. This brought me back a little into real life as I realized I should go home.

Lost in thought, I resolved not to involve Yunho. With determination, I made my way home, he wouldn't tell me the truth anyway, so I needed to find answers myself. I arrived home and I quickly showered, washing away that fucker's touch from me, the dirt from his hands.

I planned to search for some evidence, for anything which is going tell me something about all of this shit. I stepped into Yunho's room; I knew he wouldn't be home until late at night. I looked around in agony, not knowing where I should search. I thought it was good to start with his laptop, I sat on his bed and opened his laptop, there wasn't a PIN code, he is such a basic human. I searched through his files and opened a few, but there wasn't anything. Just when I saw a suspicious folder, I heard the bell ringing, it was angry, and someone pushed it continuously.

"Shit." I closed the laptop quickly and ran down; on my way, I grabbed a cap and organized my hair so the wound on my cheek wouldn't be seen. Whoever was it I didn't want them to think Yunho may hurt me.

"Coming!" I shouted to whoever was in front of the door, to stop ringing that bell, my head hurt enough already.

I opened the front door and saw a furious Hongjoong standing there, not waiting for me to fully open it, he stepped inside pushing me aside.

"Where's Yunho?" He asked walking around furiously.

"He is working, he'll be home only at midnight," I said looking at Hongjoong as I tried to understand what was happening.

"Fuck." He said running his fingers through his hair and mixing the two colors of his hair.

"What happened, Joong?" I started to feel worried a bit.

He suddenly stopped, and that's when I saw his face. Which was all black and blue, some fresh cuts on his lips, on his eyebrows, the blood long dried. On his cheekbone, there was a slight cut, that seemed to be made with a sharp knife. I gasped at him as I pressed my palm to my mouth.

"Just don't ask, please." He said as he saw my expression.

Fuck this isn't good. "At least let me treat your wounds, please." I looked at him concerned.

He just nodded, so I took his hands carefully to lead him into the kitchen. He sat on the stool next to the kitchen counter, so he was now a little shorter than me. I searched for the first aid kit and when I found it, I stepped between his spread thighs, he then locked me with his thighs pulling me closer to him. I looked down at him concerned when I gave his wounds a closer look, my cap still hiding my eyes.

I pulled out a sanitizer and cotton from the box so I could treat him. Silence took over us as I was pouring some liquid on the cotton and slowly, I reached it into the wound on his right cheekbone, just where mine was. He hissed a bit from the contact, but his eyes never left my face, as he analyzed my behavior. I didn't dare to look into his eyes, I kept my focus on his wounds instead, moving the cotton to his soft lips, which were wounded now, he parted his lips so I had more access to them. When I was done with his lips, I moved forward to his left side, as I felt his hands carefully squeezing my waist. That was when I looked at his hands and his knuckles were bruised as well, from the defending. He tried to look into my eyes, leaning down so he could see my eyes, as I reached the cotton to his red knuckles that screamed, he did not let himself fall for even a second. I hid behind my cap, as I felt his sharp glare.

"Why are you hiding?" He got suspicious and reached his hands towards my cap. "Don't hide your beautiful eyes, sugar." I grabbed his wrist, preventing him from taking off my cap.

He just looked at me, slowly figuring out something was off. I had no time to react when he quickly pulled off my cap, revealing my face, which really wasn't a big deal. But he made it like it.

He just stared at me, with round eyes, looking at the little red wound on my cheek.

"What the fuck happened, Y/N?" He stood up, I saw his body suddenly start to tremble, his blood was boiling.

"It's nothing, really, Joong please, just calm down," I said slowly feeling terrified seeing this Hongjoong.

He stepped closer to me until my back hit the fridge. Cold ran through my back, spreading through my whole body. He held my jaw carefully, tracing his thumb over the little red wound.

"Who did this to you?" He asked in a low tone; I never heard him like this before. Suddenly I felt like I was in front of the Devil.

"Did I ask who did that to you?" I pointed at his wounds.

"That doesn't fucking matter, Y/N!" He shouted suddenly. "Who was it tell me! I'm going to kill them." He hit the fridge next to my head. I squeezed my eyes shut from the sudden impact, starting to breathe heavily. I wasn't scared, I was terrified seeing him like this. But I knew his anger didn't tend towards me. He was pissed because someone hurt me.

"Hongjoong, you are scaring me, please calm down." I looked at him as tears started to appear in my eyes.

He looked at me, surprised, then stepped back from me, leaving me with a cold feeling. "Shit" He rubbed his palms into his face, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's happening to me." His eyes were full of regret. “When something happens to you, I can’t control myself, Y/N!”

I sighed, feeling the weight of the encounter. “It was a man,” I confessed, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn't see his face, but he had a message for you, " I said looking down at my hands, I tried to remember what he exactly said. "He said something about that plan, to tell Yunho to stop it because they know who he is and shit like these…and…he said something about my dad Joong, they know how he died, do you understand?" I was so confused I didn't even know what was I saying as I started to tear up.

"Fuck, they don't know shit, don't believe them, sugar." He stepped closer to me, to peck my red wound on my cheek. "I think those who attacked me were from the same gang." This was the first time he said some information to me. "Let's wait for Yunho and we'll figure it out." He said caressing my cheek slowly.

≫When your dark side leaves

I'm falling for you deeper≪

I nodded. "Let's drink something." I suddenly offered, trying to break this tense atmosphere. 

Hongjoong frowned at me. "Really?" I saw a little smile appeared on his lips.

"Yeah, I think we can use some, nah?" I turned around to grab two wine glasses.

"I guess." He said watching me as if I might disappear at any moment.

Pouring out the red wine, its hue resembling blood, I made my way to the living room with the bottle in hand. Hongjoong followed me and sat down on the other side of the couch. I looked at him, after sipping the red liquid from my glass.

I tilted my head looking at him curious. "Do you ever smile? I never saw you smiling?"

Well—that was a lie, but I never saw him smiling because of me.

He suddenly chuckled at my question. Oh My God, and that was the sweetest melody I ever heard. He hid his lips behind his palm. "Yes, it happens, sometimes."

His face grew serious as he drank from his glass, downing it in one go before pouring another. I did the same as he poured into my glass too. He turned towards me and laid his head on the back of the couch.

"Do you know you have beautiful eyes?" My heart started to race all of a sudden. "It's mysterious like a dark forest." He looked at me with sincerity. I think the alcohol already hit him. It was funny seeing him like this.

"Oh, so you are a Shakespeare now?" I said teasing him. Downing the wine from my glass to reach for the bottle to pour another, he did the same as I poured for him as well.

"I was a Shakespeare all my life." He said as he closed his eyes and smiled. His sudden smile caught me off guard. Was this the same Kim Hongjoong who had been shouting at me just moments ago? "I write music since…I don't know a long time ago."

I was surprised at that. "Really?" I asked as my face showed how surprised I was.

"Yea" He stared at his hands. "I wrote some for bigger companies."

"Wow, I didn't know," I said respectively. "That's really a big achievement."

He lifted his head to look at me. "Thank you."

"Recently…I don't know, I kind of write something in my mind, but I never wrote it down, and… it may sound weird but I hear a melody as well, which I never heard before. I never tried writing something before." I tried to explain to him my weird thoughts.

"It's not weird at all, I had times when I wrote a whole song like that, but as soon as my brain extended it, I wrote it down quickly. You should do that too." He sipped from his glass.

"Hmm, okay I will. I would be glad if I could write a song, it seems fun." I said to him honestly, staring right next to him into a blank point.

"It is, but it has the bad sides too. The process of music-making is tiring. You have to listen to it a thousand times and change a lot of things so that in the end, it is going to be perfect. But it's worth it, I can promise that." I never heard him talk this much; it was strange. I liked this side of him. He looked so soft and nice, with his black hoodie, the sleeves, and the hood close to the color of beige, the hood now on his head, and black sweatpants hugging his legs tugged up on the couch. I felt like I wanted to hug him, which was strange.

"Mhhm, I'll try doing something," I said laying my head on the couch's back, turning towards him. I slowly started to feel the effects of the alcohol, my body was lighter.

"Since when do you sing?" He did the same as me looking at me curiously.

My heart started to beat fast at that question. I looked down on my hands. "Hmm, since I was seven…maybe." Unwanted tears started to appear in my eyes as I blinked them away.

"Your voice is so beautiful; I get chills all the time you are on the stage." He complimented me. I lifted my head and smiled at him. "Why do you sing?” He asked while his eyes never left me.

It was always hard for me to talk about this. "My mother discovered I can sing, so she was the one pushing me in this way. I fell in love with everything that's music, and since my mother died…" I stayed quiet for a second, trying to be able to talk. "After she died, it was my only escape," I said, my fingers toying with the glass, my breaths shallow and uneven.

It was a long time ago since she took her own life, I was only 12 back then, but how could I forget her beautiful smile, as she looked at me proudly every time I sang? Every time I stepped on the stage, I saw her beautiful face smiling at me and saying 'You've got this'.

Abruptly, Hongjoong's presence pulled me from my reverie. "She would be proud of you." He smiled at me sweetly, reaching his hand to my cheek, and caressing it.

I stared at him as if I didn't recognize him. "Thank you."

We stared at each other for a moment. "Does Yunho's rule affect you?" I suddenly broke the silence. He took his hands away from my face, sudden change went through him, as I mentioned Yunho's name. It really did affect him. He turned on the couch leaning against the back, staring at the blank TV.

"So, it does." I acknowledged as I drank the remaining wine from my glass and I stood to put the glass down. As I turned towards him, he lifted his head, his gaze piercing into mine.

 As if he knew what I was planning. I walked towards him and slowly straddled him staring into his eyes the whole time. I left my hand on his shoulders as he did not move at all.

"Why are you doing this?" He was struggling I could see it in his eyes.

"Because I know you hold yourself back, for a reason of a stupid rule, my brother made," I said leaning closer to his face. "You can't hold back for too long, Joong." I whispered on his now bruised lips. A surge of anger coursed through me at the sight of his injuries, a protective instinct rising within.

I saw as his eyes got softer, he slowly reached his right hand towards my lips and brushed it with the softest touch I ever felt. He stared at my lips desperately.

"What do you want, Hongjoong?" I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"I want to kiss you." He whispered a little dazed from the alcohol.

I reached my hands to his face to cup his face into my hands. "Then do it," I whispered into his lips as they almost touched his, it felt like a bad decision, but I couldn’t think about that when that's all I had to say, and he grabbed my waist to pull me closer to him, his lips finding mine finally, and I felt complete again.

≫You complete me like black the white

I complete you like fire the water≪

I didn’t even realize back then how it felt to kiss him, because I'm sure it hasn’t felt like this. Our lips moved together like it was destined together, slowly, passionately. His kiss conveyed a desperate longing as if he never wanted to part from me. I felt his bruised lips against mine, as his tongue went through my parted lips, inviting mine for a dance. His hands slowly found their way under my shirt, running his fingers through the line of my spine, I arched my back from his touch. It never felt so good, his touch was like a sin I could commit anytime. I reached my hand to his nape, and slowly teasingly ran my fingers through his hair, mixing the colors, as his lips escaped a moan, that sounded like the melody that was playing in my head rent-free.

All of a sudden, I heard two car doors slamming. I departed from Hongjoong immediately as he heard the sound as well, looking towards the front door with round eyes.

"Yunho is with his motorbike, right?" He asked looking back at me.

I nodded.

 "Fuck they followed me," Hongjoong said as he stood up quickly his hands still holding my lower back. We heard two loud bangs on the door.

"I know you are there, open up or we will break the door." A low voice shouted from the front door, and I started to panic.

<Previous Part Next part>

[ughkat]

brother's best friend | a.f.i

au oneshot ❥

ashton x fem!reader

graphic smut, petnames

ashton is your brothers best friend, their band practice gets a little noisy and you decide to say something.

-

I sighed in frustration at the blaring clamor coming from the basement, where my brother and his garage band gathered every week. I focused my eyes heavier on the book in my lap, adjusting my seating in bed.

Another loud clash, followed by a wall-shaking bass riff.

"Ughh." I audibly groaned, tossing my book to the side. I got up from my bed and walked heavily out of my room, mentally cursing my brother. Opening the door to the basement, the series of loud crashing and laughs came to a halt, as I hastily made my way down the steps. My brother and his two band mates turned their heads to my direction, my brother rolling his head in annoyance. I crossed my arms as I reached the bottom step.

"Can you be quieter? Please?" I hissed. I quickly scanned the room, making eyes at the drummer, Ashton. He returned a smug look on his face as I spoke with anger.

"We'll keep it down." Ashton sneered, emitting obvious sarcasm. I rolled my eyes before storming my way back up to my room. Just as I was about to close the basement door, three clicks of Ashton's drumsticks, followed by sporadic banging on his drums, louder than before. I let out a scoff of disbelief, but continued to my room.

Ashton had been my brother's best friend since I could remember. Him, my brother and I being so close in age aided the three of us to spend a lot of time together. Even into our early adulthood, Ashton has seemed to bring out our most immature selves, acting as we did when we were younger. Calling each other names, playing tricks on each other, meaningless arguing. Ashton was always just "my brother's best friend". In usual little sister fashion, I found myself growing increasingly more attracted to Ashton as we got older, but never acted on it in fear of ruining his friendship with my brother. I couldn't help but turn my longing into childish anger.

Ashton's smug face burned in my head as I returned to my room, sinking onto the bed. "That stupid smile." I thought to myself. Yet I knew deep down I was more upset at the fact that I couldn't really get mad at that "stupid smile". I laid on my back, staring blankly into the ceiling. I wondered how long I would have to fake hate Ashton—And does he fake hate me too?

I listened hesitantly to the rhythms coming from below me, finding myself tapping my finger to a bass drum. I pridefully caught myself, crossing my arms across my chest. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing I enjoy his music.

Finding myself lost in thought, my wandering mind was interrupted by my brother's voice coming from downstairs. I sat up slowly to eavesdrop. Sounds of clanging and thumping of what I assumed to be instruments and equipment being put back into their place, followed by footsteps up the stairs.

As they made their way down the hallway to the front, I listened to my brother's words.

"Alright, see you guys. Ash is staying back for a bit." He chirped. The front door shut and I continued to listen.

"I'm gonna' go get a shower, help yourself to whatever." He continued to Ashton. I listened for the footsteps heading toward the bathroom, followed by the bathroom door latching shut. I watched the small opening at bottom of my door frame with anticipation of where Ashton would set himself. Sitting in my own silence for a few moments, I snapped out of my trance on the the door, realizing what I was doing and shook my head. "You're being a psycho." I thought to myself. I laid back lazily into my bed and grabbed the book from where I had tossed it, returning to my interrupted page.

My mind wandered into a world besides my own as the text on the pages before me flooded my brain. I was numb to everything around me, 100% encapsulated in my book. A jolting flinch shook my body and mind, tearing me from my fantasies when I heard three heavy knocks on my door. I threw my hands down to my lap abruptly with a frustrated sigh, tossing my head back.

"What?" I groaned, dragging out my words, I was awaiting the unwanted presence of my brother. My door began to open slowly, revealing the unexpected visitor.

"May I come in?" Ashton spoke with a cheeky smile, peaking only his head through. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, eyeing him up and down.

"Why?" I questioned with a petty tone.

"C'mon we haven't just talked and hung out in forever." He chuckled. I raised an eyebrow before letting out a sigh.

"I guess, come in." I shrugged, putting my book to the side with a sigh. Ashton carefully entered my room, closing the door behind him. I glanced quickly at the door as it latched shut, then to him. I scooted back into my headboard allowing room for Ashton to take his seat. He sat down with comfortability as if he'd been in my room a thousand times before.

"We were disrupting your reading...?" He started, reaching for my book.

"Yeah. On purpose." I muttered. He let out a scoff.

"On purpose?" He mocked with a smirk, now looking at me. I looked up at him, his gaze burning into mine. His face was only inches away.

"Yes, on purpose. You got louder after I left." I argued matter of factly. Ashton tilted his head, not breaking his gaze on me.

"You're cute." He chuckled. My heart began to pick up its pace, making my palms clammy. I rolled my eyes, looking away.

"Did you need something?" I huffed. I turned back to look at him, his face was suddenly noticeably closer. A small gasp escaped my lips as I almost connected faces with him. Ashton studied my features closely, meeting my eyes multiple times. My face slowly got hot as his face was merely inches from mine.

"I just wanted to come see you." He spoke softly, slowly moving his hand to my knee. A shiver was sent up my body at the touch of his rough hands against my skin. My breath hitched as he moved in closer, his hand carefully moved up my upper leg, drawing small circles on my inner thigh. I began to shift in my seat under his touch. Ashton looked back up to me, our eyes connected once more before he swiftly leaned into a kiss. I froze and gasped onto his lips, but swiftly, I melted into the kiss. He pulled back quickly, looking at me deeply.

"Is this okay?" He whispered. I nodded slowly, looking at him through my eyelashes. He swiftly pushed me onto my back, reconnecting our lips. The feeling of him on top of me sent a rush of euphoria throughout me, making the pit of my stomach flutter. He began to deeply kiss down my neck, then my chest.

"You're so beautiful." He muttered into my skin. He sat up on his knees and removed my tank top vigorously, following with my sweats. He sat himself beside me, bringing his fingers down to my slick slit. My back arched at the feeling of his cold, calloused touch.

"You're so wet for me, princess." He muttered into my ear. My chest rose and fell quickly as I watched him slowly pump two fingers in and out of my hole. I wrapped my arm around his, gripping into his toned bicep. My head lolled lazily into his shoulder, whimpers escaping my lips. He focused intently on his hand as he strategically worked his fingers on my sensitive bud and hole, making me slicker for him. He removed his two fingers, bringing them to my lips. I slowly opened my mouth, wrapping my lips around his slick fingers.

"That's a good girl." He smiled.

Ashton abruptly flipped us over, leaving me straddling him. I made my way down the bed, assisted him in removing his jeans and boxers. I returned to my position on top of Ashton, and reconnected our lips for another kiss. His calloused hands found my hips, guiding them slowly against his throbbing member. I whimpered at the feeling of him against my eager heat.

"You want my cock, princess?" He growled into my lips, digging his fingers into my skin. I nodded while biting my lip, suppressing a moan.

"I can't hear you. Tell me, baby. Tell me you want my cock." He breathed into my ear, grinding my hips harder into his member.

"P..please." I whimpered, "I want it." I squeaked out what I could. Ashton pulled my underwear to the side, now gliding his shaft against my wet folds. He chuckled with a smirk before speaking.

"Aww, you don't like being teased?" He mocked softly in my ear, budding his tip on my entrance. I let out a whine and rolled my head onto his shoulder, bucking my hips. He placed a hand on the back of my neck, and the other lining up his slick member to my entrance.

"You just wanna' get fucked, don't you?" He chuckled, sliding himself in swiftly mid sentence. I tossed my head back with a gasp at the sudden feeling of him filling me up. He placed a hand at my hip and began to bounce me up and down. I let out a squeal and placed my hands on Ashton's shoulders, digging my nails into his skin. He slapped a hand across my mouth with a chuckle. Abruptly, Ashton flipped us over, leaving me on my knees with my face against the mattress. He put a hand on the side of my face, the other on my hip.

"You're taking my cock like such a good girl." He groaned, leaning down to my ear. I whined and whimpered into the pillow, grabbing at any sheet in my vicinity.

"Fuck... Ash." I whined into the pillow. He gripped tightly onto my hip, keeping a steady hand on my face.

"You like being fucked like a slut, baby?" He growled. "You like being my slut?".

He fastened his rhythm, causing my legs to shake. I slowly began to feel my climax build, and so could he. He tossed his head back with a groan at the feeling of my tightening walls.

"You gonna' cum for me, princess?" He spoke. "You gonna' cum all over my cock for me?". My legs buckled as I released around Ashton's member, letting out a series of curses and cries. Ashton only quickened his pace to finish himself off, making me shake uncontrollably.

"Fuckk, Y/n." He whined, pounding vigorously into my sensitive hole. He gripped my hip tightly, pulling out and releasing his load onto my back with a groan. We sat in silence for a second to catch out breath before Ashton spoke.

"Are you okay?" He said gently, with genuine care in his eyes. I turned my head with a giggle and ran a hand through my now tangled hair.

"I'm okay." I sighed. "You need to get this off my back, though." I gestured to his mess on my back. He shook his head with a laugh, looking down. I gestured to a dirty towel I had already planned to wash later that day. I sat in my own thoughts as Ashton cleaned me up, before he took his seat next to me, handing me my clothes.

"So...What do we tell Y/b/n?" Ashton spoke with an awkward smirk. I sighed, also unsure. But I knew it'd be best that he didn't know.

"I can keep a secret if you can." I shrugged. Ashton let a smile take over his face as he pulled up his jeans.

The two of us were interrupted by the sound of my brother's bedroom door, Ashton looked at me with wide eyes.

"Go, go, get out." I mouthed, shooing him out of the room. He quickly gathered his shoes and made his way out of the door. Opening it once more and blowing a cheeky kiss. A giggle escaped me before I flopped back into my bed with my hands over my face, butterflies taking over my stomach as I fantasized about my newfound guilty pleasure.

[mellybouboulove]

My guardian angel🤍𓆩♡𓆪☁️

Chapter 2

Hi here's chapter 2!

Plot summary: Drug Dealer Ellie Williams X OFC slowburn fic, out of universe and takes place in college, set in the 2000s. Smut content to come.

previous: Chapter 1, next : Chapter 3,

Tags: #wlw #sapphic #drugdealer!ellie #modern!ellie #tlou #slowburn #smut #fluff #tlouau #au #modernau #drugs

Let me know your thoughts on this and enjoy ^_^

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CHAPTER 2

I woke up with the sounds of the machines all working around me. I opened my eyes, blinded by the hospital’s bright light on the ceiling. I felt so confused, I couldn't recall anything of the accident but I knew something bad happened. A doctor entered, gave me a check up and asked me if I remembered my name and what my last memory was. I would have rather lost my mind. He then proceeded to explain what happened last night : I caused a car crash. I felt my heart tighten in my chest, the pictures slowly making their way back to my brain. Emily was severely injured, left unable to walk properly for the next few weeks; she probably won’t be able to play soccer anymore and Jonathan was in a coma. 

Unfortunately, I was luckier than them and only got three broken ribs and a broken arm. The doctor said I should get better in a couple months however, they have to keep me until the end of the week to make sure there’s nothing more than that.

I spent most of the days crying in bed, the guilt eating me alive. I almost killed my two best friends and myself. Thankfully, the medical treatment I was prescribed numbed me enough to make the burden easier to carry. This week felt like it never ended, I couldn't wait to go back home and leave this awful hospital bed. 

The medicines I had to take made me feel better. So much better, that I started to take bigger doses instead of decreasing it as time went by. When the doctor stopped my prescription, I realized I couldn’t continue without the treatment. Without the medicines all I could do was think about that day and the lives I ruined. I was going back to school after a couple weeks of staying home. I tried to stick to the rhythm again but I struggled to focus on anything else. I eavesdropped and heard people talking about a party in an abandoned place tonight; I thought about it for a second and linked the dots: I must be able to find what I need at this party.

As soon as I got home I opened my wardrobe and put on a short tight black dress with ripped thighs. I did my makeup and got ready to leave. I could hear the loud music from down the street; I arrived at the place and had to walk over people’s bodies laying on the floor. Everyone was high and the atmosphere was very odd but all I cared about was my drug.

I saw a bunch of people assembled in a corner and took a look. The plug was just behind that wall. I waited for my turn and walked towards the drug dealer. I was really surprised when I saw Ellie Williams, the girl I met during the Halloween Party. She looked just as surprised as me when she recognized me.

-Maya? I barely recognized you. So this is how you normally dress, huh? I knew Wendy Terrance’s style was not your normal style but… -I don’t really have time to talk, do you have Opiates ? I said cutting her. -Maya you’re shaking you’re ok?  -Just give it to me please, how much is it? -No I’m not giving you anything look at you, I don’t want you to kill yourself.  -Why do you even care ? Aren’t you just looking for new clients at parties ? You have a new client now. -Hey, look at everyone around you here, I know that you’re not a junkie and I don’t want you to become one. You shouldn’t even be here wtf are you doing here anyway?

I didn’t know what to say and avoided eye contact with her the whole time. I realized I started to get crazy and I felt so ashamed that she was witnessing all of this. She was so kind and I was acting like a pathetic drug addict.

-Maya, what's happening? Do you need help?

I felt my throat tightening as I answered. 

-Yes. -Ok, take my keys and wait inside my car. I’m gonna come in a few minutes. 

I took her keys and did what she said. About 10 minutes later, she came and joined me, she turned the car on and drove off. I didn’t say nor asked anything about  where we’re going. After a short while she pulled into a fast food’s  parking lot. We stayed in the car as I began to tell her everything that happened in my life since the last time we talked. She was very caring and reassuring. She proposed to get us some food at the drive. We talked about many random things, I saw that she tried her best to make me think about something else. 

After spending 2 hours talking we were both feeling tired. She drove to my place to drop me off but seeing my street and my house brought me back to reality. I didn’t feel strong enough to face another day without opiates. I knew I would just get crazy in my room. Having her around me made it feel a little easier so I asked her if she wanted to crash at my house tonight and keep me company. I noticed a hesitating look on her face but eventually she accepted. 

We went inside my house, it was such a mess. I tried my best to clean and make things look better but the truth is I haven’t been able to clean for the past week. My life totally went downhill and everything was so dirty but she didn’t seem to care, I guess she’s used to this type of place.

I installed her on the couch, I thanked her, said good night and went to bed. Everytime I fell asleep I was having the same nightmares with flashing memories of the accident and Emily and Jonathan dying. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and saw that Ellie was still wide awake. 

-Are you not tired ? I asked interrupting her from staring at the ceiling -Not really. Aren’t you? -No, I can’t sleep. Wanna watch a movie or something ?  -Sure! She answered with a shy smile, I felt so happy to find an excuse to spend more time with her. -Maybe it’s time for you to watch this classic. I said taking out The Shining from my pile of DVDs. 

She made space for me on the couch next to her and I pressed start. During the movie I felt her arm get behind my shoulder acting like nothing. I was starting to feel sleepy and laid my head on her shoulder as she began to play with my hair. She moved position to make us both lay down on the couch and grabbed the blanket to cover us. I felt safe and finally managed to sleep without nightmares.

------------------- To Be Continued..