#this song happened to me last night while i was like. seconds from falling asleep

[taigalee]

crafting SOMETHING........ vox to be added l8r sk8r

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Task master II, or: Don't let me in with no intention to keep me

(Dean Winchester x female reader)

Summary You and Dean finally get some time on your own during a case and you revive an old game. But this time he gets to tell you what to do. CWs: Dean calls the shots (or thinks he does). Semi public stuff. More orgasms than you can count (that's a dare). Some feels at the end. 18+, 10k words

Task master series masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

You and Dean haven’t had a moment to yourselves and you’re about ready to climb the walls.

It’s torture, actual torture, having him this close and not getting to touch him, not getting to kiss him. You want his skin under your fingers, his lips on yours, his fingers…

You take a deep breath. This has been happening a lot. You look at him or think about him and your thoughts run away from you. It happened before too, but now that you’ve been with him, now that you know what it’s like, what he can do... Well, it’s just a little more than you can take.

You think about that night in the Impala every day. And he’s right there. He has been a ridiculous flirt, teasing you, giving you looks that make you think steam is about to come out of your ears. Dean Winchester is a tease and you had no idea.

Work has been crazy, cases popping up all over. You are constantly on the road, and when you get back to your motel, you are so exhausted that you barely manage to close the door behind you before falling asleep. There’s little moments, throughout the day, where you get to steal a little bit of Dean:

He’s suddenly behind you, puts one hand on your hip and presses his mouth to the back of your neck and then a second later Sam walks in or you need to leave and he has to let go. You look at him for long stretches of time, over a dead body in the morgue (not hot) or while you’re digging up a corpse (equally not hot), and he looks back at you and it’s like there’s electricity shooting back and forth between you two.

Once you are walking down the hallway of an abandoned factory and he’s suddenly in your space, pressing you against the wall, kissing you deeply, his hand squeezing your breast and you moan into his mouth. And then an asshole vampire jumps out of nowhere, interrupting you.

You’re not a violent person, but you chop that thing’s head off like you’re Rambo.

And then, suddenly, out of nowhere, you get a day to yourselves. Sam’s pretty beaten down from your last case and you park him at Bobby’s. He’s a little concussion-y and has a sprained ankle. You convince him to stay, sit the next one out. Dean is genuinely worried about his brother, and you are too, but you also know he will be fine, and that this might be the chance to finally have Dean to yourself for a little bit. You might go to hell for the level of horniness required for this thinking, but you can’t seem to care.

Dean Dean Dean, goes your brain.

And then, suddenly, you are on the road again. Dean is driving, you are in the passenger seat. Some sexy classic rock is playing and Dean’s hand lands on your knee. You look over at him. He looks gorgeous, sunlight streaming in, he’s nodding along to the song. You want him right then and there, but you hold off. You want more of him this time. All of him.

You get to your motel, which Dean picked out and you notice is a little bit nicer than usually, and immediately need to get ready to interview a witness. So you’re still rushing, but at least you don’t have to hide the hungry stares you throw each other. Dean’s in the bathroom and when he comes out, you’re just buttoning your blouse, tugging it into the waistband of the skirt of your FBI agent get-up. He freezes in place, stares at you.

“Holy shit,” he says, looking you up and down. “I just wanna bend you over something right now.”

It’s evil of him to say it, seeing as you’re on the clock. It also makes the best shiver in the world run through you. You purse your lips. “Patience, young one,” you say and Dean grins.

The witness you’re there to question is old money, and you whistle as you pull up in their driveway. The house is huge, has pillars framing the main entrance. They’re pillar-level-rich.

You go to the door and ring the bell, Dean standing next to you. He looks you up and down, his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“What?” you say with a grin.

“Nothin’,” he replies, grinning as well. Just then the door opens, and an older woman with coiffed hair lets you in. You identify yourselves as agents Nicks and Buckingham and you’re let in, the woman telling you she’s the assistant to mister rich guy, and that she’ll find him for you. Then she leads you and Dean to a small office nearby and disappears.

You stand around for a second, looking at some of the certificates that are up on the walls. Suddenly you feel Dean behind you. You gasp lightly when he pulls you back against himself. “Dean,” you chuckle, “they could come back any second.”

���Don’t care,” he says, his voice so close to your ear that you need to close your eyes, “I can’t take one more minute of not touching you.”

You need to take a deep breath when you feel his hand snake up your leg, pressing up your skirt a little. You want to protest, you really do, but it’s sort of impossible. Knowing that Dean is as desperate for you as you are for him makes your head spin.

His hand is traveling up your thigh and then he’s pressing his fingers against you. You twitch at the sudden contact, push yourself back against him. He starts gently rubbing you through your underwear. You bite your lips but a small whimper escapes you anyway, and you lean your head back so it lands on his shoulder.

The hand that’s still around you pulls you closer. You move one hand to your back, between your bodies, finding his crotch, start massaging him. Dean grunts into your ear.

Then you hear footsteps, and the few seconds of warning you get before the door to the office opens are just enough for Dean to let go of you, push down your skirt. You’re smoothing it down as well and he quickly takes a few steps away from you. Just then the old money guy enters. He wrinkles his brow. That probably wasn’t very subtle.

You and Dean are both a little breathless during the first questions you ask him. Dean’s sort of fidgeting around, and you’re pretty sure he has to hide the beginnings of an erection. You’re not faring much better, your pussy sensitive when you sit down and cross your legs, making you flinch.

Twenty minutes later, you’re walking back to the car. “Lunch?” Dean asks, as he’s opening his door. Lunch is probably the last thing on your mind, but then you realize how hungry you are. So you nod, and then get in.

There’s a little bar in town, kind of musky and dark, but then you’re not picky. You sit down, look at the menu and order. When the waiter leaves, you look at Dean over the table, and he’s looking back at you, elbows on the wood. “So,” you say, trying to hide a smile, “quickie in the bathroom?”

Dean chuckles. “Very tempting,” he says, but then he shakes his head. “But I wanna take my time with you.”

You scoff. “Dean,” you say, “if you say things like that you are making it much, much harder for me to not jump you.” He chuckles again. “Sorry about that.”

Then a noise distracts you, and you’re looking to the side. It’s just some patrons laughing, but you see something else that catches your eye. It’s a pool table.

You grin, a plan forming in your mind, then you look back to Dean. “Little game while we wait for the food?” He looks over, sees the pool table, nods. “Maybe I get to tell you what to do again,” you suggest, raising your eyebrows at him.

Dean huffs at that. “That would be fun.”

So you get up, go to the pool table. Dean quickly sets up and you start playing. This is where your plan comes in. Dean knows you’re good at pool, so you can’t outright lose. You play just good enough for him to get competitive, seeing the exact moment he starts taking the game seriously. His eyebrows go down a little, his beautiful lips purse. Now he’s focused, doesn’t want to lose. Which is exactly where you want him.

You play well, and then you mess up a few deciding shots. Dean might notice you’re losing on purpose if he wasn’t so invested now. And just like that, he wins. You make a face, wiggle a little. “It’s this tight skirt,” you say in a complain-y tone. “Don’t have any room to move.” You look up at him. “Guess now you get to tell me what to do,” you say, your voice innocent.

Dean’s face lights up. He’s been so focused on winning that he forgot what the price was. He chuckles. “Oh, this is going to be good,” he says. You couldn’t agree more.

Your food arrives and you sit back down. While you eat, Dean runs through a few joke scenarios of things he could have you do – dance the Macarena on the bar, order the spicy wings that the menu advertises are “as hot as the devil’s rear”, which is an interesting way to try to sell something. He has his fun, the ideas staying un-sexual for now.

You finish your food, and Dean looks at the menu over the bar. “You want some desert?” he asks. “I could go for some pie.” The fact that Dean could go for some pie just means that he’s breathing.

You think, then shake your head. “Nah,” you say, “I think I should cut back. This skirt used to be a little less tight.” You look away from the menu at Dean and see that he is watching you.

“What?” you ask. Just then the waiter comes over, asking you if you want anything else.

“Two pieces of pie,” Dean orders. “One blueberry, one key lime.” He says it pointing at himself first, then at you, remembering your favorite. And then, with a boyish grin, he adds: “And lots of whipped cream on both.”

The waiter leaves, and you look at Dean a little dumbfounded. “What are you doing?” you ask, slightly amused.

“My first official act as task master,” he says, linking his hands on the table in front of him, looking proud as hell of himself.

“Well,” you say, “it’s nice to see that you’re using your powers for good.” He nods in agreement.

The pies arrive. Dean digs into his, occupied for now. You try yours. It’s really good, better than pie from some hole-in-the-wall joint should be. You take another bite, this one with lots of cream. The tartness combined with the sweetness is delicious, and you wonder why you ever wanted to deny yourself this. You make a little mmh and Dean’s eyes snap up.

“Sorry,” you say, the hand that’s not holding the fork covering your mouth a little as you lick some of the cream out of the corner of your mouth. “It’s just really good.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean says, looking at your lips. “Let me try it.” You begin to spear a piece with your fork, but then Dean speaks up. “No, not with the fork,” he says. “Use your finger.”

Your breath hitches. You look up from your plate at his face. He looks hungry, even though you’ve just eaten.

“Don’t make me say the task master thing,” Dean says, but his voice is low. He doesn’t have to. You’re more than happy to oblige. You put down your fork, then run your finger over the top of the pie in front of you. You get mostly cream and some of the top layer, but you know this isn’t really a taste test.

You reach out your arm, setting your elbow on the table and Dean leans forward a little. He wraps his hand around your wrist, almost as if to steady you, and then licks the cream off the top of your finger. The whole time, he doesn’t break eye contact. You bite your lip and press your thighs together. Holy hell.

When he’s done, he gives your finger tip a sweet little kiss, then leans back, brings one arm over the back of the bench. “Delicious,” he says, still holding your gaze.

You slowly bring your hand back and without really thinking about it, you put the finger Dean just had in his mouth into yours. There’s still specks of cream on it, and now specks of Dean. You close your lips around it and slowly pull it out, moaning a little, at the taste, but also at Dean’s face. He’s breathing a little heavier, staring at you.

When you’re done, you grin at him. He shakes his head, unbelieving. “I love pie,” he says, and you chuckle. You congratulate yourself on your masterful plan.

Next is the sheriff’s office, and then the morgue. Depending on what you find there, the graveyard may be next. You get to the sheriff’s office after a short drive, Dean’s hand not leaving your knee for a second of it. The sheriff is an older man with a mustache so impressive that you wouldn’t be surprised to find out he's related to Tom Selleck.

He’s forthcoming, excited to help the FBI which isn’t always the case. But he probably thinks you’re Mulder and Scully, except without the aliens of course, so that helps. He needs to get you some files, so he leaves you alone in his office for a while.

You’re both sitting down in front of his desk and just as you wonder if Dean will use this chance to play some more, you hear him speak up.

“You see that?” he asks, and you look at where he is nodding, which is towards the left side of the sheriff’s desk. You look for a second and then see what he must mean – it’s little alien figurine. Maybe your inkling that he’s an X Files fan isn’t so far fetched.

“Steal it,” Dean says, his voice giddy. You frown at him.

“Dean, no,” you say. “He probably got that from his kid or something.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says.

“What if it has sentimental value?” you ask, genuinely.

“Well, it’s either that,” Dean says, voice a little piqued, “or you need to go to the bathroom and make yourself come.”

The way he says it makes it clear to you that it’s a bluff. He wants you to steal that figure, because he thinks there is no way you will do the other thing.

Well, he can think again.

You stand up, smooth down your skirt. “Fine,” you say, and it takes Dean a second to understand what you mean. Then his face almost goes slack in shock.

Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, you think, but you just give Dean your sweetest smile, and then walk out of the office.

The restroom is on the other side of the hallway. You go into the ladies’. You check under the doors that no one else is there, then go into the stall at the end.

You could just stand here for a while and go back, you realize then. You don’t actually have to do it. You could even pinch your cheeks and your chest a little, pull up your skirt, make it look like you did it. But the thing is, you want to do it. Knowing that Dean is sitting just a room away, thinking about you, probably imagining what you’re doing makes you horny as hell, which is a nice change from the base level horniness you have been feeling around Dean forever now.

Fuck it, you think. You look around. The toilets are clean, and it might mean that just not a lot of women work here, which does raise your chances of no one walking in. You decide to simply lean against the tiled wall, pressing your lower body out a bit. You tug your skirt up high.

If you want to get away with this, this is going to be a solely lower body experience, so your hands stay away from your breast. Instead you run them up and down your thighs, and immediately you’re imagining Dean doing it. Imaging him kneeling in front of you, still in his suit but with the jacket taken off.

Oh yeah, you think. This will be easy.

You close your eyes, keeping one ear open for any potential intruders. You don’t waste much time on pleasantries, knowing that you can’t stay in here forever without it seeming weird. You hand slips into the top of your panties, the fit somewhat tight between the skirt around your hips and the waistband of your underwear. You’ve dealt with worse.

You start touching yourself, not a lot of preamble. You know how to touch yourself but it’s imagining Dean being there that gets you going. He’s not on his knees anymore, but he’s sitting in a chair in front of you. You’re also not in the bathroom, it’s a nice room, plush and rich. And Dean is sitting there, and he says he won’t touch you until you make yourself come.

You hear a little sound escape you. You imagine his face, his eyes slightly narrowed at you, his lips parted just a little bit. The way he’s sitting there, legs spread a little wider, his hand going to the bulge in his pants. His eyes never leave you, though, they stay on you. He tells you how good you’re doing, and how much you are turning him on. How much he wants to come over there and fuck you.

You hear your own panting and realize it’s real, it’s actually you, in the bathroom, but you don’t want to think about the bathroom. You want to think about Dean getting up now, walking towards you. And then, because you want to and need to speed things up, you think about what he said earlier today.

I just wanna bend you over something right now.

Your rhythm increases as you imagine it, imagine him pushing your upper body down on something that might be a desk. Imagine hearing his breathing in your ear and a low grunt as he enters you. Imagine him starting to drive hard into you immediately.

You come and you press your free hand over your mouth to stop any sounds from escaping you. You get your breathing to level out. You sigh as your hand leaves your panties. That was fun but you want more immediately.

You give yourself another minute, then unlock your stall. You quickly walk to the sinks, wash your hands, check yourself in the mirror. You’re a little flushed you notice, as you brush your hair back behind your ears, but you think it should be okay. You nod at yourself in the mirror, feel a grin building on you. You can’t wait to see Dean’s face.

You don’t have to wait long, since when you walk out of the restroom, he’s standing there with the sheriff. “There you are,” the sheriff says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Upset stomach?” he asks, pitifully.

You shoot Dean a look, meant to be one of annoyance because he could have come up with something a little classier, but you don’t get that far. The way he looks at you, looks over your body. You realize he probably thought you weren’t going to do it, were going to pretend you did it, or only say it to rile him up. You guess he can tell he was wrong.

So you smile at the sheriff instead. “Yeah, all good now,” you reply. “Your partner and I were just finishing up,” he says, motioning to Dean, which breaks him out of his staring.

“Yes," Dean says, back in the character of the slightly aloof FBI agent. “Looks like it might not be out type of thing after all.”

There are two reason he might say this: The first one is that he’s figured it out, the FBI cover is no longer needed and you’re about to salt and burn some corpses. The second one, and you don’t dare to hope that it’s that, is that it’s genuinely not your type of thing, which would mean…

Which would mean no work. It would mean you and Dean would have as much time to yourself as you are comfortable lying to Bobby and Sam about how long it took to figure out that this case was a dead end. You really hope it’s reason two. If you were the praying type, you’d pray now, although you’re not so sure how that would go over with what you just did in the bathroom behind you. What you’re still hoping to do.

“Alright,” you say to the sheriff, “looks like we’re gonna get out of your hair.” He actually looks a little disappointed, but after some pleasantries, you and Dean start walking down the hallway to the main exit.

“Please tell me this really isn’t one for us,” you whisper. Dean can hear you because he is walking so damn close to you you could share a pair of shoes. His hand is also on your lower back. Very much on the borderline of perceived professionalism, but you’re both beyond caring.

“Really not one of ours,” Dean says. “They arrested some drunk teens last night. I mean, the pentagram had six sides. Six! People aren’t even trying anymore.”

You chuckle, then you reach the exit. You parked on the opposite side of the small parking lot, so you walk there, both of you taking large steps. Dean comes over to your side, opens your door for you and you get in. Then he walks over to his side, gets in, but instead of starting the engine he looks at you.

“Dean, come on,” you say. “What are you waiting for?”

Dean is looking at your face, and then his eyes wander down to your lap. “Did you really do it?” he asks, and his voice is low.

“What the task master says, goes, right?” you reply. Dean’s eyes go up to your face again, and he grins. He scoots closer to you on the bench, one arm going on the back of the bench behind you, the other he lays on your thigh.

“Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s asking, but the answer is yes either way. His hand on your thigh runs up and inwards on your leg until he reaches your sex. He closes his eyes for a second when he realizes how warm you are, and how wet.

“What did you think about while you did it?” he asks, his eyes opening again and looking at you.

“You,” you reply, looking into his eyes. Dean’s lips fall open, and the arm behind you pulls you in, his hand holding the back of your head. He kisses you, deeply, his tongue almost immediately pressing against your lips. You part them, and just as you can taste him, his hand between your legs starts moving against you.

You have to let go of his tongue because a moan makes its way up your throat. He doesn’t let you go far, capturing you again with his lips. His rhythm on your clit is picking up just a bit. He’s rubbing you through your panties, which you’re pretty sure are on the way to soak town, USA.

You’re still sensitive, but it only makes his touching feel more intense. Your mouths separate, and Dean leans in so he can reach your ear. He kisses below it once, then he whispers to you.

“I wish I could have seen you,” he says. “Seen you making yourself come in that bathroom, thinking of me, knowing anyone could walk in at any second. I wish I could have walked in, and just watched you.”

You want to tell him that that’s exactly what you imagined, but you can’t seem to locate your voice right then. Your breathing is going faster, the pleasure in you building.

You find your voice again after a minute. “I wanted you in there with me, Dean,” you say and it comes out panting. “Wanted you, ugh, yes, yes, w—wanted you to come in and fuck me.”

Dean groans into your ear, his pressure on you intensifying. “Yeah?” he says, his voice sounding a little strained as well. “And what would you have wanted me to do to you?”

You want to tell him but your orgasm is approaching rapidly. You suddenly need to keep your hands busy, so your one hand goes to your breast, trying to locate your nipple through your clothes, the other wraps around Dean’s neck. You rock yourself against his hand as much as you can, your release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, Dean, y—you’re gonna make me come,” you gasp. He picks up his pace, his mouth going down to your jaw and sucking there. You head falls back, desperate, needy sounds leaving you and then you’re coming, bucking against Dean, clenching your thighs together. “Yes, yes, yes,” you pant through it, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

When it’s over you need a moment to blink your eyes open. Your body is still buzzing when you hear Dean’s voice next to you.

“Darlin’,” he says, landing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I need my hand back.”

You realize then that you’re till holding him between your legs. You give a light chuckle, still not all the way back, as you relax your thighs and let him slip free.

“Why would you need that?” you say, trying to be funny.

“Because,” Dean says, removing his arm from the bench behind you, turning from you to face the steering wheel. He starts the engine, and the vibrations of the car make your gasp a little. “Because I need to drive us to the motel so I can fuck you stupid.”

The drive to the motel isn’t long but every second of it feels like half an eternity. Dean’s hand is back on your knee, which is sweet, but barely alleviates the tension of where it should rather be. Dean’s a little out of sorts, and he keeps looking at you, a small half-grin never leaving his face.

Finally you get there. With the skirt and, well, the coming, it takes you two seconds longer to get out of the car than it usually would, and Dean uses these two seconds to come over to your side, reach his hand out so you can take it.

“I had no idea you could be such a gentleman,” you tease him, half-heartedly, because the truth is you love it a little. He chuckles. “Only for the special ones.”

You walk together to the motel room, close to each other, and you both start fumbling with your keys early. You’re just a little bit quicker than Dean, so you’re the one unlocking the door. It’s made exponentially harder with how close Dean is standing behind you, his one hand going from your lower back to your ass.

Finally the lock clicks open. You manage to just pull the key out and then you need to turn around to Dean, throwing one arm around his neck. You kiss him, and he immediately wraps both arms around you, pulling you close, while at the same time pushing you backwards, into the room.

You manage to walk a few feet in and Dean actually remembers to throw shut the door behind him, one hand leaving you for a few seconds. It’s too long. Every second he isn’t touching you is too long.

His hands are back on you, rubbing down your sides to your hips, pulling you against him.

“Fuck,” he says, when you part for a second to catch your breath. “I want you so bad.”

You swallow and then, with the self-control of a Buddhist monk, push your flat palm against his chest.

“I need two minutes,” you say, realizing you’re panting. You lean your head back a little, and Dean looks at your lips. He could say no, use his task master powers, but he doesn’t. He squeezes your hip where he’s holding it, nods. You peck him on the lips once more.

“Okay,” he says, returning the kiss. “Don’t be too long.”

You quickly walk into the bathroom. You pee, then look at yourself in the mirror. You’re about to push up your breasts in your bra a little, when you have another idea. Your reflection grins at you.

You come out of the bathroom and Dean is sitting on the end of the bed, waiting for you. He looks a little bored. Well, he does until he sees you. He sits up, his hands falling on his legs. He takes a deep breath. You send a thank you to your past self for going to the effort of doing this.

Dean hasn’t seen your underwear, because when you were getting changed earlier, he was in the bathroom and when he was making you come in the car, he was doing it blindly. So it’s a nice surprise, to say the least.

It’s dark red, the bottom a thong and the bra is doing everything it needs to be doing. You find yourself wishing you had heels, but your FBI get-up doesn’t provide that, too much chasing and ass kicking required on the job. But next time. Next time. There will be a lot of next times, you realize.

You watch Dean swallow as his eyes roam over your body. “You are so goddamn gorgeous,” he says. Of all the things he’s said and done to you, it shouldn’t make you blush, but it does. He smiles at that. And then he says: “TM says, come over here.”

You chuckle. “TM, huh?” He shrugs. “’S shorter.”

The way he’s sitting there reminds you so much of what you were imagining earlier. So you think for one second and then you lower yourself and get on your hand and knees, then start crawling towards Dean.

He takes a sharp breath through his teeth. Your eyes don’t leave his. His chest is rising and falling and he looks wonderful. You reach him, and raise your hands to his knees, then run them up his thighs, the back down again. His breathing is picking up as he stares at you. Without breaking eye contact, your hands wander to his his jacket, and you slowly push it off him.

“Why don’t we get you a little bit more comfortable, task master?” you say. Dean grins, helps you by shrugging out of the jacket. When it’s off him, he tosses it to the side. Then your hands go to the waistband of his pants. “Or a lot more comfortable,” you say.

Dean looks down at where your hands are opening his fly, lets you do whatever you want to do. You pull down the zipper and then your hand wanders in and you find him. You take a shuddery breath as your hand wraps around his cock and you pull it out. He’s halfway there so you hold him and move your hand up and down him once, slowly.

Dean groans, leans his head back. “Fuck,” escapes him. You move a little closer to him, and when he notices your movement he looks down, opens his legs a little wider.

You lower your head while still holding him, and run your tongue along the underside of his shaft to the head, where you whirl your tongue around. Dean’s hands on his thighs clench into fists. You do it again, this time collecting some spit in your mouth before which you spread on him. When you reach his head again, you flatten your tongue and press it to the sensitive spot just below it.

Dean hisses, one hand going up to wrap itself into the hair at the base of your neck. “Jesus Christ,” he gasps, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

You grin, your ego stroked both by the admission as well as the slightly destroyed state he is already in. Dean’s a sex god but you sure have him unravel pretty fast.

You wet your lips, and then slowly take his cockhead into your mouth, very gently sucking on it and then, going a little bit lower, taking more of him into your mouth. You hum at the taste of him, your pussy clenching around nothing. The vibrations of your hum make Dean’s cock twitch in your mouth, so you do it again. You feel his hand on the back of your neck shake a little.

You run your lips up and then down him again, taking a little more of him in. You do it again, going a little lower, holding there for a second, and then go back up, releasing with a small pop.

“You taste amazing, Dean,” you say, a little breathless not yourself. Since you’re kneeling, you don’t need to steady yourself, so one of your hands finds its way to your pussy, lightly pressing at it, the other to Dean’s balls, caressing them gently. They’re a little difficult to reach since he’s still wearing pants so soon you move that hand back to his cock, pumping him a little while your mouth goes back over the top of him.

Dean is now gently rocking towards your mouth, breathing out through his nose in what you think is a bid to control himself. He looks beautiful, you see when you look up, his eyes half shut, his eyebrows pulled together, his lips parted.

He sees you looking at him just as you let him fall from your mouth again, and before you know what he's planning, he gently tugs you up by where he’s holding you by your neck. You lean up, and he brings your face in to kiss you, kiss you deeply. You return the kiss, desperate with how he’s touching you, moving you. You moan into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t let you go far. When he talks, he’s whispering into your mouth. “I would love to come in your beautiful mouth,” he says, and another moan escapes you, “but I have more planned for you.” He kisses you again, then says: “Get on the bed. Lie on your back.”

You kiss him again, and his free hand goes up to your jaw, cups it and for a second you’re both lost in the kiss. Then you pull back and push yourself up by Dean’s knees. He lets go of you, but not really, since he lets his hands follow your body as you stand up. You have a hard time letting go of him too, so what happens is that you’re holding hands as you walk around the bed, letting go only when the distance become too far. It’s sweet and makes your heart thump a little.

You climb on the bed quickly, lay yourself down on your back in the middle of it, pushing one pillow out of the way and pulling another in so that your head is resting comfortably. Dean has stood up as well, has turned around and is looking down at you. Your breath caches when you see him.

It’s easy to forget how tall he is since he’s constantly hanging out with Sam, but it’s even more obvious now. He looks almost imposing. And then he takes his tie off, loosening it by pulling it away from him and it nearly makes you blind with lust.

You pull up your legs a little, spreading them. Dean grins at that, and then he’s unbuttoning his shirt and it’s just a little more than you can handle.

“Dean,” you say, and it comes out desperate, because, well, you’re desperate for him. His grin widens.

“It’s okay, darling. Touch yourself. I’ll be right there.” And the way he says it plus the pet name has your hand flying to your pussy. You move it into your underwear and start touching yourself, your body sensitive due to the arousal, so you start slowly.

“Yes, sir,” you say and it’s supposed to be a joke, but it does things to you and Dean stops what he’s doing for a second, which is pull off his shirt.

“Shit,” he says, eyebrows raised. “I think I liked that.”

It makes you laugh and a flood of love runs through you. The way he makes everything feel so nice and floaty. He smiles at your laughter and then his shirt is off, but he’s still got a white t-shirt underneath, and it’s just nothing but endless layers with this damn family, but luckily he pulls it off himself then.

You notice, as he pulls down his suit pants, that he’s tucked himself back into his boxers. You can see him there and you stare at the tent while you continue touching yourself. Then his pants are off, he’s kicked his socks and shoes away and there he is.

“Dean,” you say, your voice a little stuttery, “really need you over here.” He grins and then comes to you. He likes being needed.

He climbs on the bed and comes up to you. He leans over you, keeping himself up with his arms on either side of you, and kisses you. You push yourself up, trying to reach as much of him as possible, but he’s pulling away too soon. One hand goes up to one of your breasts, cups it, his thumb running over the fabric, once, twice, until he’s sure he knows where your nipple is. Then he runs little circles around it and it makes a little shock run through your body.

He seems satisfied with that reaction, so he moves his hand further down, running it over your ribs, over your hip, his thumb brushing the soft skin of your belly. Then he leans back, sits up and is just watching your hand move inside your thong, gently massaging your thigh. After a little bit of this his eyes wander up to your face.

“How close are you?” he asks, his voice so soft. You have to swallow.

“Pretty close,” you say, your own voice shaking. Dean nods.

“Let me take a closer look,” he says, and then his hands are moving to your hips and he’s pulling down your underwear. You lift your butt up a little so he can pull it off you. He drops it somewhere in the bed and then goes back to looking at you, so you keep touching yourself, his eyes making your skin burn in the best way possible.

He runs one hand down the back of your thigh, slightly scratching and you moan at that, his other hand just resting on your hip, as if he’s steadying you.

“Dean,” you moan again, and your free hand reaches out to him. He leans forward a little bit and you can reach his face, your hand cupping his cheek, and he presses his face against your palm, his eyes not leaving you.

It’s such an intimate and chaste gesture, like something out of a Jane Austen novel. The sweetness of it combined with Dean’s and your own touching is bringing you to the edge quickly.

“Mmmh,” you go, and then say: “I’m gonna come again.” Dean nods against your hand.

“I want you to,” he says.

You bite your lip before you can speak. “But I want you inside me, Dean,” you say. Dean smiles, and it’s not his usual playboy grin, it’s something sweet, something secret that you’ve rarely ever seen before.

“I will be,” he says, “don’t worry. But I want this to last.” It’s a sort of sob that escapes you then. You are so horny for this man, but your heart is so horny for him too. It’s a stupid thought and you kind of want to share it with Dean, but the pleasure in you is building, building, building and you don’t think you can, or want to, hold off.

“Oh God,” you moan, and your body is arching up. Dean’s hand goes off your hip and instead cups your hand on his face.

“Say my name when you come,” he says, so quiet that you almost don’t hear it. Then your orgasm hits you, and you throw your head back into the pillow, chest rising up, your entire body tensing. You can’t say anything for a second and then you say his name, over and over until your body is shaking, your back is back on the bed and you're gasping for air as if you just ran for your life.

After a few seconds, you blink your eyes open. It’s hard work, but you are rewarded with the sight of Dean watching you, looking at your face. It flusters you a little and Dean must notice, because he says: “I’ve never seen anyone who looks as beautiful as you when you come.”

You scoff a little, slowly regaining your senses. “Yeah, if you've got a fetish for how people look when they stub their little toes.” It breaks Dean out of his trance a little bit, and he chuckles. Then he leans over you, on his elbows this time so he can be closer. His nose is just touching yours.

“TM says it’s beautiful,” he says in a low voice. You can’t help but grin. “Well,” you reply, “if TM says so.”

He nods, his nose rubbing against yours. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

He kisses you, and it’s gentle and slow and only lips and it makes you feel like you’re melting.

When he raises his head, he looks at you, and you can tell a plan is forming in his brain.

“What?” you say, raising your eyebrows.

“I wanna try something,” he says, then corrects himself. “Task master says we’re gonna try something.”

You frown. “Try something? Like an experiment?” Dean thinks for a second.

“Kind of,” he says, and then he’s moving down your body, leaving full-mouthed kisses in his path.

“Where are you gonna t—” you start and then his mouth is on your pussy and your entire body twitches at the sudden contact. So, that answers your question.

You raise your head, look down at him. “Don’t do anything weird, Dean,” you say, “my pussy’s not a chemistry set.”

He brings up his head and chuckles. “If it was,” he responds, “I might have made it through high school.”

You lay your head back on the pillow. “Education’s very close to my heart,” you say.

Dean chuckles, but he’s on you again already. This time he goes slower, getting you used to his mouth on you, gently licking at you until you’re pushing yourself towards him. Then his hands are by your hips, near your ass, and he adjusts you a little so that he can reach you better.

Then he’s back on you, his beautiful, plush lips closing around your clit and a moment later, you feel two fingers of his nudge against you. You want to tell him that that’s not much of an experiment, that you’ve done this before, but just then he presses into you, finds your g-spot like it’s got a GPS attached to it.

You push your head back into the pillow, your comment forgotten. He’s sucking on your clit and pressing against your g-spot, rubbing it without ever letting up the pressure. You’re halfway to your next orgasm before you know it. Jesus H. Christ, how is he doing this to you?

You grab at his head, the stimulation so intense it’s almost painful, but still you want more of him, and you press him against yourself, trying not to suffocate him, because that would be a damn shame.

Dean doesn’t seem to mind, his pressure on you increasing impossibly and you feel every muscle in your body tense, one hand staying on his head but the other going to the edge of the pillow under your head, because you need to grab something, but it’s not enough, so you sort of grip Dean’s hair as well, and it’s just long enough for it.

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes, don’t stop,” you pant, and you’re pretty sure not all of it comes out as actual words, but you don’t care.

Your next orgasms hits your like a bag of bricks, your stomach muscles contracting so hard it actually hurts. The sounds you make are…

Well, let’s just say you’ve never made them before. You will again, but you haven’t so far.

Just as the feeling starts dying down the tiniest bit and you think Dean is about to pull away, you realize that he’s till going, still rubbing your inside, still sucking on your clit. You’re about to protest, because you can’t possibly keep going when suddenly a strange warmness builds in you, no, a heat, like Dean’s rubbing has set you on fire.

He presses his fingers further up and your stomach flips for a second, your body almost forcing you to pull away but then you notice that Dean’s other hand is around your thigh, steadying you.

Then a new feeling comes in, and you can’t place it. It feels good, but strange, and you realize that it feels like you need to pee. You almost panic for a second, but the feeling’s not strong enough to break through your arousal, so you just kind of stutter, and then you notice you are grinding down on Dean’s face, basically humping it and then it hits you.

You’re pretty sure you scream, but you can’t be sure. You’re not there for a second, your body flooded with pure bliss. You distantly feel something wet run down from your pussy to your ass cheeks but its too far away for you to care.

Your head has lifted off the pillow when your orgasm – or whatever the hell that was – started, and now it falls back. Your breaths are sobs because there’s not enough air in your lungs. You lie there like a rag doll, body a little twitchy, breathing heavily.

You don’t notice Dean crawling over you until his lips are on your cheek, your temple, placing the sweetest kisses on them.

“Ssh,” he says, caressing your cheek, and you could cry. You take a deep, deep breath and it allows you to open your eyes, at least halfway.

“Dean,” you say, and he says: “I’m here. I’m here, baby.”

You blindly grab for him, pull him against you, your coordination shot, not even sure which part of him you want and then you realized it’s all of him.

He holds you against him, keeps stroking you, repeating “it’s okay, I’m here,” over and over.

God, you’re in love with him and you want to tell him, but this isn’t the right time, you think. You don’t even know what this thing you have is, it if has a name, if you want it to have a name. You don’t even know if he feels the same way.

You cup his face and look at him. He looks back at you, doesn’t turn away, doesn’t joke.

“Was that too much?” he asks, his voice low, only meant for you. “I thought it would be a fun experiment to see if I could get you to do it, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

You shake your head. “It was perfect,” you say. Then he kisses you, and you’ve never been touched as softly, as gently, as carefully.

You lie there like that for a while, kissing, nuzzling your faces against each other. Then Dean moves a little because his arm is falling asleep and you feel his erection against your thigh. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean for you to feel it, but it’s pretty unmistakable. It must be getting uncomfortable but he hasn’t said anything.

You pull his face close to yours, kiss him. Then you move away just an inch and you grin at him.

“Anything the task master wants to do about that big ass bulge down there?” you ask, your voice a little playful. Dean gins as well.

“I can just, you know," he starts, trying to hint at you and when you frown cause you’re not sure what he means, he concludes: “You know, rub one out. If you’re too tired.” You shake your head.

“Yeah, no,” you say, “not happening.”

You kiss him again, and then you press your nose against his cheek.

“How would the task master like to fuck me?” you ask. Dean groans, brings his lips back to yours, and your kisses are getting a little more heated, a little more intense. He brings his mouth to your ear.

“I want you to ride me,” he says and you have to bite your lip because it might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Dean notices, keeps going.

“I want you so sit on my cock, decide exactly how fast you want to go, how hard you want me to fuck you.” Jiminy Cricket, how is he getting you going again? How is he wringing all this from your body?

“And then I want to watch you come again,” he says, and that’s enough of that.

You push back his shoulders and he happily plops down with his back on the mattress. You sit up, and without much preamble you start tugging at his boxers, pull them off him with his assistance. You notice the wet spot on the bed under you and grin to yourself.

As you make your way back up Dean’s body, you make a pit stop at his dick. He’s fully erect and when you run your lips along him, he twitches, Dean sucking in air through his teeth.

“Goddamn,” you say, “I can’t wait to have this beautiful cock inside me.” He grabs your arm then, pulls you up to him. He pulls you down to kiss him while his other hand goes for your leg, drags it over himself so you’re straddling him.

You quickly reach behind you back, undo your bra and let it drop next to the bed. Dean is staring at you, then kisses you again, one hand going to your breast and gently stroking you nipple.

“Fuck,” he pants when your lips leave his since you’re sitting up, “I need to be inside of you.”

His hand goes to the nightstand where you see he’s deposited a couple of condoms strategically, probably while you were in the bathroom. He grabs one and is just about to tear the foil, when your hand lands on his. He looks up at you, confused.

“I want to feel you,” you say, and he is stunned for a second. You can see his mind running through the process. “But…” he says.

“I’ve got an IUD,” you interrupt him. “And I’m safe.” Dean nods. “Me too.”

You smile, run your hands over his chest. “Then let me feel you,” you say.

Dean thinks about it for one more second, then he tosses the foil packet back on the nightstand, using his now free hands to grab your hips.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done it without a rubber,” he says, grinning a little bashfully, “so it might take me like two seconds.” You chuckle.

“Guess we’ll have to build up your sensitivity,” you reply. Something goes over Dean’s face, and he’s pulling you down to him, chest to chest, and kisses you again.

“I like that plan,” he whispers against your lips. You peck him once more, then sit up again.

You push yourself up using your purchase on Dean’s chest. He holds on to one of your thighs, with the other helps by lining up his cock to your entrance. You’re about so sink down, when he says: “Look at me.”

You do, make eye contact. You grin. “Yes, TM,” and then you are sinking down on him.

You are so wet that there is almost no resistance, but still you go slow, because the look on Dean’s face is something you want to commit to memory. He presses his head into the pillow, obviously has a hard time keeping his eyes open, but he does. You sink lower and he feels perfect. Dean seems to think the same, because he says it.

And then you’re flush with him. Your breathing has gone all wonky so you try to calm it, regulate it. While you’re doing that, Dean’s hand go up to your breasts, massaging them, gently pinching your nipples. It makes you sigh, clench down on him. He closes his eyes for a second.

“Fuck,” he says, “I can feel all of you.” You can feel all of him too, and you involuntarily move your hips a little.

“Ready?” you ask Dean, and you have to grin at how destroyed he already looks. He nods, lets his hands fall from your breasts to your waist.

“Task master says go,” he jokes, but you both know you are so far past that.

You start moving your hips slowly, grinding more than anything, little circles. Dean's grip on your waist immediately intensifies, his breathing picking up, so you widen the circles just a little. It’s pushing him against all the right spots inside of you, and you need to remind yourself to control your breathing again.

“Dean,” you moan and his thumb on your waist caresses you. “I know,” he says. You start going up and down a little as well, and the combination makes you roll your head back, moan desperately. It’s not enough to make you come, but just exploring the sensations he causes, enjoy the fact that he is inside you is more than enough for your right then.

“God, your cock feels so fucking good,” you say. It’s pretty porn-y, maybe a little over the top, but it’s the truth. His cock does feel fucking good.

In response, Dean starts rocking up into you, meeting your movements with his own thrusts. It makes him hit parts of you he hasn’t hit yet, and you moan again, your eyes falling shut and your lips parting.

“Shit,” Dean says, his voice almost shaky, “I don’t know how long I can keep this up, you’re driving me crazy.” You look down at him then, and your breathing is going fast.

“I don’t want you to hold back, Dean,” you say, your own voice shaky. “Wanna feel you come inside me.”

Dean grabs your hands and pulls you forward then. He holds you up enough that you gently land on his chest, but then he wraps his arms around you. His lips go to your neck and he is holding your upper body, making it possible for him to drive harder into you.

You’re the one on top, but he’s fucking you.

The sharper angle presses your clit against Dean’s pelvis, giving you extra stimulation, and also makes his cock hit your g-spot. Your one hand grabs the hair at the top of his head for something to hold on to and he grunts at that, into your neck.

His movements are getting faster and you’re happy to just take it, to just have him drive you forward again. Your eyes roll back and a chant of ah and yes and fuck and his name leaves you on every thrust. You stutter into another orgasm, the sound that leaves you a desperate whine and you can feel yourself tensing around him.

Dean stops kissing your neck, instead pushing his face against it, one arm around your back and one hand back at the base of your neck, in your hair, and his movements lose all rhythm for a few thrusts and then he holds himself deep in you, the most beautiful whimpers falling from his mouth, as he comes inside you.

You feel the warmth of his come spread through you and you sigh at it. You let go of his hair, instead gently run your fingernails along his hairline. You keep doing it just because it feels good to be touching him while you come down, but when you stop for a second Dean tugs at you.

“Please don’t stop doing that,” he mumbles against your neck.

Not task master says, but please. So of course you don’t stop. You keep doing it as you both slow your breathing, recover from the absolute intensity of what you just experienced.

You can feel Dean take a deep breath against you, and it's your signal to push yourself up a little, give him room to breathe. He looks up at you, his eyes lidded, his lips parted. He doesn't let you go far. He pulls you back and kisses you, You give in, because what the hell else are you supposed to do?

After what feels like an eternity his hand in your hair loosens, and he strokes the back of your neck instead. He pulls back and looks at you. You can't read his expression. You see him swallow.

"You okay?" you ask, your thumb caressing his cheek. He nods, but doesn't answer. Then he clears his throat, but his voice still comes out cracked. "That was incredible." You grin. "Incredible doesn't cover it," you reply. He grins a little too. "No, it doesn't."

You tug at his shoulder a little. "Shower?" you ask. He nods. "Yeah."

You carefully climb off him, Dean helping you, his arms supporting you. He gets up with a grunt, doesn't let go of your hand when you walk to the bathroom together. You turn on the shower water, since Dean still seems a little out of it. You are too, but you've never seen him like this, so you're happy to take the lead.

When the temperature is nice, you drag him in behind you, pull him close so the water can run over both of you. You cup his face with both of your hands. "Dean," you say, "are you sure you're okay?"

Instead of replying he kisses you. You hold his face and when he pulls back you don't let go. You're still not sure what's up with him, so you decide to busy yourself.

Your hand goes to the motel body wash mounted on the wall. You squeeze a generous helping into your hands, rub them together and then start running them over Dean's shoulders, up his neck, then down his chest. He flinches for a second, but he doesn't stop you. You bring your hands over his shoulders to his back and soap him up there, and because he's so close you kiss his cheek. He smiles at that, and he seems a little more himself.

His arms wrap around you then and he pulls you close. You continue rubbing his back, move your arms under his to reach him better. You press your fingers against him, intensifying the pressure a little, essentially massaging him. His face is against the side of your head and you hear him sigh. You pull back after a while, get more body wash, clean his sides. Once most of the body wash is done, you gently wash his penis, careful of his sensitivity.

Then you're done, and before either of you say anything, Dean goes for the body wash as well. He starts on your hips, making slow soapy circles up your body. Then your back and same as you he uses to chance to kiss you, but on your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck while he strokes your body.

When he pulls back, he cleans his hands under the water, then gently rubs your vulva, his fingers making a v-shape to clean you. He looks into your eyes while he does.

When he's done with that, he goes for the motel shampoo. It's not the shampoo you would usually use, yours still in your bag in the bedroom, but you don't care in that moment. He turns you around, massages it into your hair, scratching your scalp. You close your eyes at the sensation. He makes you lean your head back a little when he's done so he can help wash it out.

Remembering how much he liked the head scratches earlier, you do the same to him. He's too tall for you to be super efficient, so you do it mostly blind. You build up a lot of foam on his head, and it makes you laugh as you blow some away. He grins, then pushes his head under the water stream. You help him rinse it all out.

The motel towels aren''t the best but you both don't mind. You dry yourselves, then Dean slips on one of the robes while you go for your actual PJs, an oversized t-shirt and panties. Dean leads you back into the bedroom and as you're sitting down on the bed, he sees that the motel has room service. He waves the menu at you and you grin.

You order a ridiculous amount of food, even for Dean Winchester standards. It takes nearly an hour to arrive, but you spend the time lounging in bed, watching TV. Kissing. There's a knock on the door and Dean goes to open it, tips the guy who brought it.

The food's nothing to write home about but it might as well be a 5-star meal. You eat a fry and it's heaven, especially when you take another one and shove it in Dean's face. He takes it, then bites your finger. You pull your hand back, giggle, lick the salt off. If the you from yesterday could see you like this you'd think you're being an idiot. Whatever. The you from yesterday didn't know something like this could happen.

A little later, the left-overs piled on a plate outside your room, you fall asleep. Dean's lying on his back, and half of your body is draped over his. You snuggle up to him and he runs his arms over your back. You're out like a light within a few minutes.

You wake up hours later, not sure what woke you. It's dark in the room and you feel Dean move beside you. You're still in the position you were in when you went to sleep.

You sigh and look up at Dean's face, and see him just blinking awake. You're not sure who woke who, but it doesn't matter to you when you wiggle against him, getting yourself closer to him.

Dean's hand goes up to your face, caressing you gently. You look up at him and he's looking at you. You can barely see his face in the darkness, but even in the little light you have you know his face well enough to fill in the blanks, so it feels like you're seeing him.

Dean breathes in. "I love you," he says, quietly.

You can't help but stare at him. You've been wanting to say it all day, and you can't believe he did it first.

It's too early, you think. It's just this crazy day, you think. What if he takes it back tomorrow, you think.

None of it matters. "I love you too," you say.

You can more sense than see Dean smile. He kisses your forehead. Then you both go back to sleep.

You don't leave your motel room for another two days. By the end of the second day, when you get in the Impala and drive back, the I love you's haven't dried up. They come to you both as naturally as breathing.

[miaoua3]

(pairing: woozi x f! reader)

happy birthday to my favourite teddy bear🤍

entering the code into the little keyboard next to the door, you slowly open the glass door and peak inside. your eyes naturally go to the chair where your boyfriend usually sits on, right in front of the computer where he lets the magic happen.

but he’s not there.

next, your eyes go to look inside the recording booth, where he usually sings into the microphone that is always set up a little too high for him for the sake of his taller members.

but he’s not there either.

lastly, your eyes fall onto the only place left where your boyfriend could be found. the place where you both spent endless nights talking, cuddling, sleeping, kissing and making love. the place that you both consider your happy place.

and there he is, laying on his back, asleep, with his arm resting on across his eyes.

smiling at the sight, you completely enter the studio, letting the door softly close shut while you put down the bags full of food.

at the sound of rustling of the bags, jihoon suddenly wakes up, ready to jump from the couch.

seeing that, you quickly approach him and quietly say “hey, hey it’s okay, it’s just me, love.”, quickly sitting down next to him and rub his back, while he rubs his face with both his hands.

in his deep and sexy voice, he responds “hey baby. didn’t know you were coming. i just laid for a bit to try to think about the next steps for the song i’m working on, but i guess i fell asleep.”, before he leans back, letting the back of his head lean on the couch, closing his eyes.

sitting more comfortably, tucking your legs beneath you, you start softly playing with his silky black hair, scratching his scalp just the way you know he likes it.

jihoon opens his eyes, looking at you while he smiles. taking your hand in his, he pulls you softly towards him, his lips already slightly puckered, ready for you to kiss him.

smiling through the kiss, you let your lips separate for a few seconds. pushing his hair back, you whisper “hi, my love.”

smiling back, he responds “hi, beautiful.”

smiling brighter, you go back to kissing him, your hands going to his round and soft cheeks out of the habit.

he stops kissing you for a second for the sake of asking you “what’s in those bags?”

suddenly remembering why you came here in the first place, you jump up from the couch and round up the small table, excitedly taking out all the things from the bags.

“first,”, you say, “we have some korean barbecue chicken. then, i also bought some rice for the sake of it. and then we have…”, you continue taking out all of the things and placing them on the table, making it look like you intend on feeding six people and not just two.

when you come to the last bag, you take it before going back to sit next to him. looking up at the clock that hangs above the glass window of the recording booth.

23:57.

smiling unsurely, you start. “lastly, we have…this.”, you say as you take out a little white box. opening it, it reveals a little white cake, with little pink hearts and a “happy birthday!” spelled on it in the same colour.

you put it on your lap before you take out one singular candle and place it in the middle of it.

“i know you don’t really like your birthdays nor being the centre of attention…but i still care about you, and i love you, and i still want to show you how much you mean to me, so. i got you a small cake. and only one candle.”, you smile gently at him, looking unsure.

jihoon smiles at you, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear.

leaning in, he kisses your cheek and then your lips softly, before whispering against them “thank you. i don’t know what i would do without you in my life.”, pausing briefly to gather the courage for the next words. looking you directly in the eyes, he continues “i want for every next birthday of mine to be like this, with you, just us and a little cake. i…i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”, his courage wavers a bit.

smiling back at him, you back away enough to light up the single candle.

looking up at the clock again, you see the time.

23:59.

“make a wish.”, you say, looking him directly in the eyes.

looking right back, he says the wish out loud.

“say yes.”, before blowing out the candle.

putting down the cake gently, you then pounce on him, kissing him with all the excitement that’s been bottling up inside of you during his little speech.

at exactly twelve o’clock, you say yes to his question.

[consume-cs]

free fall (03) ◯○ a baby growing up inside your belly

can you let me sing you a lullaby? | moonlit | 🍼 got7 content | materialist

english isn’t my first language. ot7 scenario. husband — cuteeeeeee ﷼

lim jaebeom

It’s late at night and you have a container full of ice cream between your legs, eating it slowly as you watch your favorite program on TV.

Lately, your insomnia is getting worse and since you can’t sleep Jaebeom notices every time you get up so now he’s next to you, falling asleep after a long day of work.

He rubs his eyes and he alarms when he hears you sobbing, grabbing your cheeks just to make you look at him.

“My love, what's happening?” He asks worrying about your feelings, knowing how often your humor changes.

“I didn’t mean to do this, you should be sleeping because I know how tired you are and I’m just here making you wake up due to my insomnia” You apologize crying.

“You don’t have to be sorry about it, princess. I'll be by your side every time and I will always stay with you until you fall asleep, so it’s not your fault”

mark tuan

You bend on your knees and in a few seconds you let your food go down the drain as your throat hurt and your husband puts your hair up in a ponytail, hating watching this scene once again.

You sit on the floor and Mark makes sure that the drain is in discharge just to pull you by his side and kiss your forehead.

“I hate this” You whisper feeling extremely exhausted. It isn’t the first time you’ve thrown up but it’s normal when your baby is just growing inside your belly.

“And I hate seeing you like this” He affirms, holding your face in his hands and gently rubbing his fingers against your cheeks.

He helps you to get up and you wash your hands, brush your teeth while he’s behind you holding your little belly.

“And here’s my baby” He says with a smile on his face, making you smile too.

jackson wang

You sit in his lap and he looks at you, kissing your cheeks and lips multiple times just to see your smile again. Then, he starts to brush your hair carefully, braiding your long hair and showing his work to you while you smile.

Your belly is getting bigger as your insecurities grow more and your husband noticed that, helping you to wash your body and pick a cute summer dress.

“Can I do your makeup?” He asks and you think about it for a bit until you say yes.

His hands touch your face softly and you guide him through the process, saying him which products go on your brows and so on until you get your makeup done by him.

It wasn’t bad.

park jinyoung

After going to the doctor and seeing that your baby girl is healthy, Jinyoung is holding your hand while you walk through the parking lot going straight to the car.

"You look really pretty today, and always" He says making you smile instantly feeling your cheeks turn red. "I hope that my baby girl look exactly like you" He begs carresing your belly.

You smile looking at your big belly and then you two stopped in front of the car as your husband opens the door for you, surprising you with a big bouquet of pink flowers in the passenger seat.

"Babe"

"Surprise!" You don't know where he got that bouquet but you can feel how your baby is happy about it too.

choi youngjae

You’re having a rough since your belly got so big that it’s hard to sleep in any position and your baby’s legs keep kicking your skin.

“Baby, let your mommy sleep please, it’s too late to play now” Youngjae begs with his eyes closed while he keeps rubbing your stomach in circles, hugging you from behind and kissing your bare neck just to calm you down.

You take a deep breath, hoping that your baby listen to his daddy and let you sleep peacefully for at least this night.

You hear your husband’s voice singing you a lullaby song, calming you and your baby almost at the same time.

“I love you” It’s the last thing you hear from him when you fall asleep and you don’t feel your baby’s kicks anymore.

bambam

“Are you sure you’re okay here? Isn’t too sunny for you?” He asks, relocating the umbrella above you covering you from the sun.

You nod, looking at the crystal water. Your little belly is finally showing up and all of the sudden your husband wanted to go the beach.

Bambam takes a seat next to you and starts to put sunscreen on your skin, starting from your back, shoulders, arms and then your little belly.

“My boy is getting bigger” He says with a smile as he’s rubbing the sunscreen on your skin.

“But I think he’s craving a vanilla cookie right now”

Your husband laughs as you smile. “Is it my boy who’s craving a cookie or is it my beautiful wife?”

“I think it’s your boy” You say jokingly.

kim yugyeom

You look at your big belly worrying about the future and how is going to be. Sometimes you don't feel prepare for that but at the same time you feel so excited to meet both of your babies.

Yugyeom is massaging your swollen feet, instantly noticing your silent crying. “Honey, what's happening? Your belly hurts? Tell me”

He takes a sit next to you, worrying even more since you haven’t stop crying.

“I-I’m scared” You say sobbing and Yugyeom puts you in his lap, holding your face between his hands as the same time he removes your tears.

His soft kisses around your face are pretty calming and sweet too. “I know you’re scared pretty girl and I’m scared too, but I promise you’ll be okay and this is going to pass quickly, okay?”

You put your arms around his neck while his hands go up and down your back, feeling the warmth of his body.

xoxo girl💋…

© consume_cs

[callme-holly]

hiii! can you do either 47 (touching their elbow to get their attention) or 22 (falling asleep on the other’s shoulder) with Darry please! :D

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 [𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - it's been so long since i've written sorry y'all. school has been crazy busy and i saw grease two days in a row so i've had literally no time to write. I'm still trying to get through requests.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 791 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

Sunlight streams in through the open kitchen window, bathing the tile in a soft golden hue and casting long shadows across the floor. The radio plays quietly in the background, whatever station is being broadcast lost to the loud thrum of chatter filling the Curtis home, voices blending together to create an indistinct buzz of noise. 

Darry stands at the stove, his back turned to you as he cooks up breakfast for everyone, bacon sizzling on the pan, the smell permeating the room, bringing with it the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower he’d taken a little while earlier, and even through the fabric of his shirt, you can see just how tense his shoulders are. 

You don’t have to ask to know that he’s stressed, the way his jaw clenches a tell-tale sign in itself, as well as the way his brow creases everyime someone laughs or shouts a little louder than he’d like for 8 in the morning.

He hasn’t been sleeping well lately, which probably has something to do with the steadily increasing stack of bills on the coffee table and the fact he doesn’t slip into bed beside you until late at night, once the boys are both asleep and the house has been tidied the best he can manage in his sleep deprived state. 

You’re yet to mention it, knowing full well that he’ll give you the same answer he always does; a quick “i’m fine, darlin’, stop worrying so much” before returning to whatever chore it is he happens to be working on. You'd be lying if you said you weren't worried about him. 

A soft sigh slips past your lips, heard only by you as the song on the radio fades into another commercial break. It's one of those stations, you note with a sense of exasperation, that seems to play more advertisements than music. 

Someone lets out a particularly loud laugh from the living room and Darry’s entire body stiffens momentarily at their volume. He exhales heavily through his nose, turning off the heat under the frying pan and taking a moment to lean against the counter top, eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to drown out the sound. 

Your heart twinges in your chest, sympathy washing over you at the sight, and you reach out a tentative hand, brushing against his forearm with a featherlight touch, hoping to catch his attention. 

“You okay?” You ask softly, voice barely above a murmur despite the volume of the house around you. Darry glances back towards you briefly, a small smile crossing his lips at the sight of your concerned expression, before he turns back to face the food on the stove.

“I'm fine,” He replies shortly, pulling away from you and moving to gather up enough plates for the group of boys in the living room. “Just tired.” 

But, you don't believe him. Not for one second. It isn't just the exhaustion that keeps him tense, but something else entirely. And as he sets down the last plate on the table and goes to call everyone in to eat, you find yourself moving to stand in front of him, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look down at you.

His blue eyes meet yours, unseeing in their focus as he struggles to keep the unbothered façade up. But you’re no stranger to that sort of reaction from him—you’ve seen that same look many times in the last few weeks, though it never lasts. 

“Let me worry about the bills this month.” Your words come out more sternly than you intended them to, but they seem to get through to Darry all the same. His shoulders slump in defeat, and he shakes his head quickly. 

“No. I can take care of it myself. You don’t need to–”

“But I want to,” You reply sharply, cutting him off before he can make any further protest. “I want to help you, Darry. Please?"  He opens his mouth to speak again, before hesitating , seemingly torn between arguing with you over his financial burden and trusting in your ability to handle such a responsibility. Eventually, his face settles into something resembling resignation. 

“Okay,” He mutters, giving in after only a brief bout of silent deliberation. "alright... just this once." 

Your smile grows wider, and you press a light kiss to his lips. you know he probably isn't thrilled at the idea of relying on you in this situation. he never likes relying on others  for anything, let alone this kind of thing, but you're not going anywhere anytime soon and he knows you'll probably help him regardless of what he says. you're both stubborn like that.

[rebelwrites]

Only Over When We Are Sober

Jax Teller x Reader

Jax Teller Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Hello I know it has been a while 🥺 not sure if people still remember me but this song has been playing over and over in my mind along with this story. This isn’t me coming back to writing but this story was just hard to keep contained. Hope you enjoy ❤️

Jax stared at the ceiling, his head was spinning, the headache was starting to take over. It wasn’t the first time he woke up with a hangover, and just like all the times before the smell of your perfume was invading his senses.

He slowly started to open his eyes, letting himself adjust to the brightness of the dorm room, he always cursed himself for never fixing the blind. Reaching out he felt nothing but emptiness, it was the same feeling every time, it had become expected. Yet with each time it caused his chest to tighten, feeling his heart weigh heavy. Finally he propped himself up so he was leaning against the headboard before pulling a smoke to his lips. It was as if he was on autopilot, in a way he was, this was a routine he had gotten used to over the last six months.

Dropping his gaze he took a long drag of the cigarette, everywhere he looked there were reminders of you, the marks on the pillow case from you finally falling asleep with a full face of makeup on to the lonely hair tie that was currently sitting on the bedside table. He knew the two of you were a toxic mix but every weekend you both partook in the dance that had become so familiar. It had been over a year since you broke up but there was a pull, like moths to the flame you couldn’t stay away from each other.

The only time you stayed broken up was when you were both sober.

He knew you would have been long gone by now, it was always the same come morning. You would bolt from his dorm, ignoring everyone as you scurried out of the club house, retreating to the safety of your car. It was something he hated, you were the love of his life but for whatever reason the fire between the two of you burnt bright and strong and in turn caused you both to get burned.

“Thought you two had called it quits?” Gemma asked, appearing in the doorway holding a fresh mug of coffee for her son.

“Same old story,” the blonde shrugged, taking another drag of the cigarette, “we never believe it’s truly goodbye, always wanting closure. I guess that’s what you get when we have the same friends and run with the same crowds.”

Gemma could see the pain that her son felt, it was something that no matter how hard he tried to hide, his eyes told the whole story. Every Sunday morning the sparkle in his baby blue eyes had been extinguished when the harsh reality that the love of his life wasn’t his anymore came crashing down around him.

For the last month he had found himself looking forward to a Friday and Saturday night when the party would be in full swing. And tonight was no different.

He slipped onto the usual stool at the bar, lit a cigarette between his fingers and a bottle of whiskey sat in front of him, all whilst his eyes never moved from the clock behind the bar. With each second that passed he felt his heart rate double waiting for seven pm to strike.

Taking a deep breath you placed your hand on the cold metal door that led you down one path, the one that ended up with you tangled in Jax’s sheets even though you swear every week was the last. You just needed to move on but how could you when that boy was the only one to hold your heart.

Pushing the heavy door open, it felt like there was no one else in the room apart from you and Jax. Part of you hated that he still had such a hold over you.

Everything happened like it normally did, you’d ignore him at first, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel his gaze burning into your soul. You know that within the next hour you would be sharing shots and the dance would begin.

Soon enough you found yourself sliding onto the empty stool next to him, taking the lit cigarette from his fingers taking a long drag, before flipping over the shot glasses.

“I hate you, Teller,” you huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as you knocked the shot back.

“Ditto,” he hummed, holding his shot glass up in the air before following your actions, emptying the small glass before slamming it down on the bar top.

Three shots. That’s all it took for the “I hate you” turned into the “I miss you”.

Everyone thought it was over between the two of you, and for the most part it was but only when there wasn’t alcohol coursing through your veins.

“If this is love Jax then we are fucking bad at it,” you huffed, pouring two more shots of the amber liquid.

He half smiled, reaching out letting his hand settle on your bare thigh, his fingers slowly stroking your skin causing the hem of your dress to rise a little. Even now his touch still caused sparks to erupt across your skin, he left a fire in his wake and no one could compare to Jackson Teller.

Neither of you shared many words, both afraid that if you did speak then this unspoken agreement would end. You knew it probably should but you just couldn’t bring yourself to call quits on the man that held your heart in his hand and you knew you held his in yours.

The scowls quickly turned into soft smiles, touches started to linger, the sound of laughter cocooned the both of you and the level in the bottle was getting lower.

Everyone, including the crow eaters, knew to leave the two of you alone, as the clock ticked on the closer you and Jax got. You had moved from the bar to one of the booths and were now straddling him, both hands on the side of his face, fingers gently running through his beard.

No words were spoken, you were both getting lost in each other's eyes. The smirk on his face was growing, the feeling of his arms wrapped around the one person he would lay his life on the line for without a second thought. He took a deep breath, letting his gaze flick between your eyes and your lips, everything was in slow motion as you edged close to him, not stopping until your lips touched causing fireworks to ignite deep in both of your souls.

In one swift motion Jax adjusted his grip, pushing himself to his feet all whilst not pulling away from the kiss. Maneuvering his way through the clubhouse, he savored this moment because for the next two nights the world would feel right again with you in his arms.

Even though come Sunday morning, he knew the cycle would start all over again, because when it came to you and Jax it was only over when you were both sober.

@chibsytelford @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @withmyteeth @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @princess76179 @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @princess76179 @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @lmao-liz @babypink224221 @daddysgirl2857 @bravo-four-seal-team @garbinge @pedrohoe04 @littlekittymeow @nichia88-blog @zozebo

[eclipseberrycake]

With the Words of a Love Song (MBC X Healer! Reader)

AN: Aright, aright, I see what you're laying down, I see it. How are y'all feeling after the last MBC fic anyway? the engagement I got on it was CRAZYYY and I adored it sm

This will Not follow the storyline my main MBC story does, so if you all begin missing Blu, fret not she is still around, just not in this universe <3

☁ Now, these guys with a healer partner? That's a dynamic for sure.

☁ Probably better for Sprout's poor heart lmao

☁ Astro is by far the most protected toon on each run if this is the case. With not only Sprout and Cosmo playing favorites, you probably play favorites as well, which it's Astro. Who wouldn't.

☁ Since Cosmo and Sprout bond over baking, I imagine you and Astro bond over late nights. Like, c'mon, imagine it's late at night and while Astro is making sure the other two are sound asleep with only the best of dreams, he's laying with you as you hum some soft tune.

☁ Speaking off, the second they hear your voice, they're all over lullabies. Especially since nightmares from their times as twisteds still haunt their memories. Having you and Astro there make falling asleep easier than it was even pre-breakout.

☁ It quickly becomes a favorite part of the night time routine.

☁ Honestly, that's probably what kickstarts the entire relationship in this universe. Cosmo gets hit/heals someone/ another reason here and you're closer than Sprout was, quickly healing him with a small little rhythm.

☁ Already Sprout's got his eye on you for that as Cosmo is adamant on thanking you with your favorite dessert- he doesn't know what else to do because he's never been healed by anyone outside of Sprout or his cousin. Of course, where those two roam in my world, Astro isn't far to follow.

☁ He probably meets you on a late night walk where you're humming to yourself, maybe snuggling with Coal.

☁ Anyway, I've established previously that these three fall hard and fall fast, and are full of so much love to give. They spend endless hours trying to give you all the confidence you deserve, even if you fail to see it.

☁ They respect your wishes on limiting the use of your ability on the field, leaving most healing to Cosmo or Sprout. The only exception being if one of them needs it. In which case, you and one of them will hide in a secluded area so you can very quickly use your ability before moving once more.

☁And maybe when Astro specifically asks. As much as he loves the treats (And this is my personal headcanon) he has trouble eating and running at the same time, which is necessary when the bakers heal him, so having you sit him down for a moment of reprieve is much preferred for him.

☁ By the way. I never mentioned this in my previous MBC stuff because it wasn't really relevant, but the worst person to heal, by far is Sprout. In the other verse, he has to constantly be open to being healed because Disractor! Reader is The Worst (tm), and he needs to be alive to heal them, but with Healer! Reader?

☁ Out the window. I said you all were gremlins, this entire polycule is gremlins, and I meant it. Sprout included. He is the worst to get to sit down, and accept any form of heal if it meant taking a bandage or med kit from someone else (Like you, Cosmo or Astro). But with your ability he's a little more receptive to being healed which is good for your heart and Cosmo's poor nerves.

☁ It's not very often you have to use your ability, but of course, accidents do happen.

☁ Especially with the floors as unpredictable as always.

☁ They knew it would be a blackout the second they stepped out as the sound of the generators sputtering was too loud to ignore. Astro was quick to find you, as he gave off enough light to guide both your way and his own, while Sprout and Cosmo watched Pebble run off, calling the attention of whatever twisted he found.

☁ "You two stay with each other." Sprout practically ordered, looking back at you and Astro. "Me and Cosmo will be following Pebble. Keep track of which direction you go in."

☁ "Of course, thank you dad." Vee piped in behind him with a teasing cackle, even as the berry turned around to glare at her.

☁ "Come now, let's move. It's no fair to Pebble if he's suffering for our dallying." Rodger quickly cut in, walking forward to a nearby machine.

☁ "We'll stick together." You quickly amended, giving Sprout a soft smile before you and Astro were both walking off, sticking close to the walls for a worst case scenario.

☁ The run quickly turned into just that as every minute that passed there seemed to be the sound of someone getting hit. Blackouts were always hard, especially the further up you got, as you never knew how many Twisteds there were. You were convinced the onl y reason you and Astro stayed safe was because of Vee's ability, highlighting any twisteds wandering near the two of you.

☁ Well that and Astro's stealth which worked wonderfully as he kept you behind him, just in case.

☁ By the time the last machine was finished, you and Astro were hiding behind some crates near the elevator, quickly slipping in when it opened while eagerly awaiting the others. One by one, they trickled in, looking worse for wear. Beaten and bruised, stained in their own ichor, but healed. Not that you had any doubt in your healers afterall.

☁ Cosmo was the first one back, wincing, but standing. This was the last floor anyway. You'd take him to med bay right away.

☁ He still smiled when he saw you and Astro though, welcoming the kisses bestowed upon him with a tired wag in his curled tail (No one mentioned I gave Cosmo a tail. Y'all. COSMO TAIL CMON).

☁ Sprout was next, joining the little huddle before you could even register he was there, burrowing right in the middle. He was fine as well, teasing Astro that he could've used the Stamina boost, but could tell the celestial was busy. The only response he got was a cheeky little shrug.

☁ The only toon left was Pebble, who announced his presence with a happy little bark, only for it to turn into a sharp yelp as he turned the corner and a Twisted Coal appeared out of seemingly nowhere, sinking her teeth into his side. She let go if only to snarl at Pebble, it gave the poor pup the opportunity to run into the elevator.

☁ There was a flurry of commotion as all eyes turned to Sprout and Cosmo, but Cosmo didn't have the means to heal Pebble without risking his own life and Sprout was fresh out of tapes after healing Rodger.

☁ And while you didn't like it, you knew what you'd have to do.

☁ Gently shuffling in between Sprout and Vee, who cradled Pebble between them, you swallowed whatever was choking you, extending your hands to gently lay on Pebble's side.

☁ Sprout's eyes were immediately on you, torn between protecting your comfort and healing Pebble, but you ignored his concerned looks. You nearly buckled before a hand on your shoulder had you glancing up, Astro giving you a soft smile as Cosmo immediately sat beside you, laying on your shoulder.

☁ With a deep breath, you sang the same verse you always did, feeling your ability thrum in your veins as you channeled the energy into the wound.

☁ It closed seamlessly and before they knew it, Pebble was back to his happy, tail-wagging, circle running self, giving you a cold lick in thanks along with another yip.

☁ Feeling drained from the action, you tired pat the rock as the elevator begins to return to the lobby.

☁ "Wow, I didn't know you could do that." Vee mentions in the silence, a grin on her face as she pets Pebble, who had darted over to her. "Neat trick."

☁ "That's my partner." Sprout beams, pride practically radiating off of him as you chuckle, leaning onto Cosmo. The cake roll presses a kiss to your temple as you do so, rubbing your shoulder as he watches Sprout and Vee quickly get into a playful argument.

☁ Astro is still behind you, even if he has the same, cocky, prideful look on his face that Sprout did.

☁ You're sure there are consequences that'll come from this, but as you doze just slightly against Cosmo's shoulder, you can't really find it in yourself to care.

☁ As you finally give yourself to the urge to fall asleep, you catch Astro's eye, and a sudden realization hit you.

☁ Astro, you sneaky son of a bitch.

Small AN:

This is the OG Request:

Hi again! All of the asks you do are AMAZING! Thank you again for doing my asks! So, here’s another one for you to look at in your free time!

A moonberrycake (what a shocker) x reader. The reader can heal people, but only when they sing. Reader is the most confident in their singing so they never use their ability, but on one run, they accidentally use it to treat another toons damages.

Hope this doesn’t seem cringe and you enjoy it! (Btw, can I be 💜 anon if you do those types of things?)

And yes! You absolutely can be! I do do those types of things!

[cityofmeliora]

transcript: Sweden Rock Festival (June 4, 2015)

this was only Terzo's second live performance. you can tell from the way he speaks in this concert and in his first concert that he had not yet grown into the role of an entertainer. he wasn't fully sure of himself and what he was doing. (which caused a few endearingly awkward moments.) he did eventually build up his confidence, and he became the flamboyant, dramatic, powerful stage presence we've come to know and love.

FULL CONCERT (AUDIO ONLY)

[BETWEEN "FROM THE PINNACLE TO THE PIT" AND "RITUAL"]

Thank you very much. How are you doing tonight? So nice to see you all here tonight in the cold. Are you feeling cold? No? Maybe it's just me. Maybe my rigor mortis is setting in. Anyway, this is my first big night together with all of you all. I hope you all will enjoy this as much as I will. So, join us here now for our first real big "Ritual" together.

[BETWEEN "PRIME MOVER" AND "MAJESTY"]

Thank you very much. Are you still awake? Perfectly sober, right? A little bit tipsy? Yes… So are you getting some tonight, heh? Some more than others… Well! We have a new phonographic record coming out. Yes, yes! We're gonna treat you for some new songs. This is one of them. This is called… "Majesty"!

[BETWEEN "CIRICE" AND "STAND BY HIM"]

Yes… So, how am I doing so far? Not very bad! I know, this is a very good show, heh! So… it's very cold up here. Not everywhere. And I hope you are warm in the right place, too. Are you warm in the right places, Sweden Rock? Are you doing good? Fantastic. Now, we're gonna play you a rocking song. And I need you to clap your hands -in pace, preferrably- along with the introduction, which happens to be on the drums.

[BETWEEN "YEAR ZERO" AND "ABSOLUTION"]

How about that? Well, it's getting late. Yes! It's not a matter of opinion; it is getting late. So, I know it might seem a little confusing –it's even a little confusing to me, sometimes– y'know, playing new songs for people who've never heard these songs. But I tell you what– we have a really good ending song that you will understand why it is an ending song when you hear it. But now it might seem a bit strange, huh? But we have to finish this off now. And this is a really cool song that we have on the next record. This is called… "Absolution".

[BETWEEN "ABSOLUTION" AND "IF YOU HAVE GHOSTS"]

Goodnight, everybody. Thank you very much. You are beautiful. Goodnight. Wear rubbers. Have fun.

[THE BAND PRETENDS TO LEAVE AND COME BACK]

You're saying our name wrong. We're called "Ghost". But nobody's perfect. But you know what, Sweden Rock– Do you know what you have tonight here, which is all yours? Say it! [AUDIENCE SHOUTS "GHOST!"] Yes… you do.

[BETWEEN "IF YOU HAVE GHOSTS" AND "MONSTRANCE CLOCK"]

There you are. Don't you be falling asleep on me! Okay! We are now officially wrapping– with a song. It's not a rap song, though. [STAMMERS] I've heard from my brother that you are somewhat of a singing crowd. So you like singing, eh? That is fantastic because that is exactly what we're gonna do right now. And if you had said no, that would have been… weird. So thank you for not being weird and weirding me out. I'm weird enough as it is. So! Apparently, these lyrics are very easy. So everybody knows the lyrics for this last song, huh? It's a damn predictable band, always playing the last same song. I told him, but… apparently, it works. So, are you all down for singing with me tonight? Fantastic. And while you're at it, please give a big round of applause for the Ghouls. Conclusively, I give you… "Monstrance Clock".

setlist below cut:

INTRO (MASKED BALL)

GENESIS

FROM THE PINNACLE TO THE PIT

RITUAL

PRIME MOVER

MAJESTY

CON CLAVI CON DIO

DEATH KNELL

CIRICE

STAND BY HIM

ELIZABETH

SATAN PRAYER

YEAR ZERO

ABSOLUTION

IF YOU HAVE GHOST

MONSTRANCE CLOCK

[gyllenhaalstories]

SOMETHING TO RELY ON — DETECTIVE LOKI 🖤

summary: detective loki comes home after a long investigation, needing nothing more than something, or someone, to rely on.

warnings: i can’t write canon and accurate portrayals to save my life, mentions of loki’s work, fluff & comfort. 18+ NO MINORS. yes, even if this fic has no smut, i don’t want minors interacting with my content.

word count: 1700

gifs credits: @/magnusedom (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i have the selfish need to take care of this man and protect him from all the bad things in this world so this is exactly what i’m doing with this fic. no plot, only rambling. 🖤 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“Oh, David.”

He grunted, rejecting what sounded like pity in your voice. It was a reflex, despite you telling him over and over again that you empathized with his hard work. He simply refused to let you feel bad for him.

And you refused for him to not let you do that. How could you not feel bad for your man? He looked dishevelled at best. His clothes were wrinkly, his coat was wet from the rain outside. His beard was unusually long. He smelled of cheap body soap, one labelled a manly tornado of masculine jungle and virile storm clouds.

David started to explain, calculating his words so that he would not speak in vain. He told you that he found a truck stop and used their showers before driving back home. His presence for the investigation was supposed to last a day or two, but he was required to stay on the field for about a week. Unlike his colleagues, he turned his back to the offer of a comfortable bed at the motel and a warm breakfast every morning. He stayed ready and awake for as long and as much as he could, in case of something happening.

You helped him out in silence as he spoke. How you had missed the sound of his voice without the bad network of the phone service struggling to pick up from the place he stayed for the past week. It could have been in the middle of the Bermuda triangle for all you knew, it cut you off too many times and prevented you from falling asleep to the gentle humming of David as he played in his mind songs that looped on the radio during patrol.

He let you remove his drenched coat. He watched you until you disappeared into the bathroom, he assumed you were hanging the coat in the shower where it could drip and dry without making a mess. He loved your attention to details, and how it mirrored his very own. He let you untie his boots so that he could step out of them. He let you do every small and big gestures to get him comfortable.

You offered him a fresh set of clothes, soft worn-out sweatpants and an old t-shirt that had been waiting for his arrival since the moment he walked out of the door. While he changed, you discarded of the dirty work clothes that he wore. You did not comment on how difficult it would be to wash away the dried stains of mud. He was probably kneeling outside in the rain, searching for a piece of information regarding the investigation. Day and night, you knew he devoted himself to his case.

“Love?” He called out for you. He blinked as he caught sight of you, being a busy bee from one room to the other around the house. You hands were full one second, empty the next one. Loki both loved and hated how this all came naturally to you. He loved the ways with which you both took care of each other. You handled the seemingly mindless tasks that weighted heavy on his shoulders while he provided you with a safe, strong presence and with arms to fall into when you needed. When he was actually there.

You finally reappeared in the living room. Your face lit up with a smile at the sight of him. He already looked better in the clean clothes. The shirt stretched over his broad chest, over his soft tummy. “Tell me the story of when you got this t-shirt.”

Loki grinned and looked down at the World’s best fisherman shirt. He explained how he picked it up from the lost and found box at the police station he worked prior to the current one. A cliché altercation between him and a box of donuts had led to him interrogate his first potential criminal with a prideful fisherman shirt. His retelling of the story always made the two of you smile.

It worked as a way to bring his feet down on the ground, to focus on what was important. As a bonus, it was simply entertaining to imagine Loki walking around with that shirt while trying to appear as almighty and professional. “Do you want something to eat?”

The corners of his lips curled into a smile and he followed you to the dimly lit kitchen. In a few swift movements, you had bread, peanut butter, jelly as well as a couple of utensils pulled out on the counter. The final touch was added by David’s arms wrapping around your waist from behind as you assembled his sandwich.

You spread the peanut butter all the way to the crust of the bread and on the other slice, you scooped strawberry jelly and made sure to get chunks of fruit too. Just how he liked it, just how you made it when you packed his lunch for mornings where he was too busy and tired to remember to take care of himself. You pressed the layers together gently and cut it in two triangles, handing him the bigger half.

He thanked you with a kiss on your cheek as he grabbed one of the triangles, taking a big bite out of it. He could easily guess you would have preferred to welcome him home with a big, warm meal. Although, in his mind at this very moment, he saw no difference between that sandwich and something that would have taken hours to make and double the amount of time to bake. And besides, he thought a lot about what he wanted to do during this break from the investigation. He needed to keep his mind and hands busy. This sounded like the right opportunity to invest crazy amounts of time into food you could cook together. Or you’d settle from ordering takeout from the Chinese food restaurant.

You cleaned up once you were both done eating, still with David holding you tight like a safety belt. “Want me to tell you about my day?” He hummed, agreeing. So you did just that, you shared the silly details with him as a way to make him feel included despite his long absence. Sometimes, you disliked sharing stories of your life with him. He was a creature of habit, it was hard to remind David that you were just telling about your encounter with a rude person at the grocery store and it was not an investigation. He would analyze your words, scrutinize your reactions, until you told him to relax.

He did not need such a reminder, at that very moment. Loki leaned his head on your shoulder, not minding how contorted his spine was to maintain him in that position. His eyelids were getting heavy, and so was he. He was half listening and half falling asleep on you.

For every night of the past week, you would have traded anything just to be crushed by his sleeping body and keep him safe and warm. However, you imagined it would be in bed and not laying flat in the middle of the kitchen if you even found the space for that anyway. “Come on, big boy. It’s time for your nap.” You turned gently in Loki’s arms, causing him to gain just enough consciousness to grunt in dissatisfaction. You draped his left arm over your shoulders and held him tightly as you both limped your way to the living room.

Any further, and David would have fallen down on the floor. You helped him to the couch so he could lay down. He shook his head slowly when you presented him with one of the throw pillows. He opened his eyes just long enough to lock his gaze with yours and he grinned when you understood his silent request. He sat up, struggling to stay still, until you joined him on the couch.

You stretched your legs up on the coffee table and you let Loki slowly rest his head on your lap. The sigh he let out made your heart clench inside your chest. He was killing himself trying to save people from dying. All you could do was stand by his side and help keep his head above water for as long as he would let you.

Loki saw it differently. He saw all of the love-filled gestures as a sacrifice as big as his. He appreciated each and every single one of them, and tonight was just the same. He appreciated how you peeled away the layers of stress, of turmoil and of fear. You did that by helping him with his clothes and also by keeping safe physically and at peace mentally.

“It’s okay, now.” You whispered as you placed your right hand on his stubbly cheek, your left one played with his hair. You were soothing both of your souls while trying to make up for all the time he spent away.

You repeated that it was okay over and over again until he, too, said the words to himself. He was okay. For now. And, for now, it was all that mattered. There would never be enough words and actions that could show you how thankful he was to have someone to rely on.

“You’re home.” You smiled down at him and watched him closely as he relaxed under your touch. You stroked your thumb over his lips, tickling his sensitive and chapped skin until his mouth parted open and his breathing slowed down.

He was seconds away from drifting into sleep. His eyelids were heavy. On your thigh, his head was heavy too with all its of horrors and sorrow. His voice sounded gentle and calm. “My love.”

A single tear fell from your cheek and down on the hand that was caressing his. Hearing the words in person rather than on the phone healed the pain that Loki’s absence had put you through once more. You leaned your head back to rest it on the couch and you closed your eyes too. Though it came with all sorts of tribulations, you were just as thankful as him to have someone to rely on.

[ragnarockz]

35 or 78 with some edging?

35. “be still” - “i can’t” - “yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?”

78. “stop moving, you’ll take what i give you”

I feel like I can come back to Agnes and Vidal after giving those two a break from fucking like rabbits but ALAS!

I'VE MISSED WRITING THEM FUCKING LIKE RABBITS (and I'm sure you all did too 😓😢)

Song while writing: Wicked Game - Chris Isaak, Sex & Candy - Marcy Playground

Agnes rolls over and feels the familiar touch of Vidal behind her. She's warm and snuggled up into her pillow, the comforter around her. She's holding on tight to a little pocket of warmth that Agnes, in silence, asks for forgiveness to break.

She extends her hand out just enough to stroke up Vidal's thigh and receive a soft sigh from her, making Agnes' heart leap. This was something she never thought she would have. Waking up next to someone who made her feel this way; who made her feel like rolling over in bed wasn't going to be the end of the world.

Vidal was sighing and moaning softly as she roused herself up from sleep; felt Agnes' cold fingers trace lazy patterns on her leg. She stretched her back and shoulders and neck; grunting softly which made Agnes laugh. She could fall right back to sleep if it wasn't for Agnes' deep, sleepy ladened voice.

"Be still..."

Vidal yawned as she stretched again; this time her legs which caused Agnes' hand to slip away into the sheets.

"I...can't..."

She was being playful with Agnes; trying to be cute and maybe even a little bratty. She was playing a dangerous game and she knew it. Agnes caught on pretty quickly as Vidal's eyes snapped open the second Agnes had shifted over and threw her leg over Vidal's body. She had pinned her down within seconds and Vidal barely had time to register it. She gasped loudly; voice still sleepy as she stared up at the detective on top of her.

She realized then she had gasped for another reason her brain had registered before she even did.

Agnes had fallen asleep with her harness and strap still on from last night.

Vidal bit her lip as she scanned Agnes' face, her eyes. It seemed that sleep had fallen from the detective rather quickly and a new emotions was already in bloom.

“Yes you can, do you want to find out what will happen if you don’t?”

Vidal moaned at Agnes' words as she tried to shimmy her hips up; trying to catch the friction of the toy. Vidal heard Agnes chuckle at her desperation and heard the click of the detective's tongue. There was something so endearing about having Vidal be so desperate so early in the morning; still so sleep-ridden that her eyes could barely stay open.

Agnes watched in surprise as Vidal's hands creeped up Agnes' thighs to grab at the erect cock between her legs; trying to guide it inside of herself. Agnes stopped fully; stopped moving so she could see just how bad Vidal wanted this.

"Jesus, Babe...don't you think you got enough of me last night?"

Vidal heard Agnes' rasped breath as she clutched the silicone a little harder and lifted her hips so that the head of the cock met her opening. She let out a sleepy, almost pathetic moan as she pushed herself onto Agnes' cock and took her fully. Vidal welcomed the rush of sensations sparking in her body. The sudden fullness, the softness. The way her body was already reacting; already getting wet with Agnes deep inside of her cunt.

Vidal knew she was short circuiting Agnes' brain as she pulled her hips back just enough to feel her cock drag inside of herself. She contacted her inner muscles before she pushed back down onto the toy to take the full length once more.

"Fuck, Vidal..."

Agent Vidal bit her lip coyly as she nodded her head against her pillow and studied Agnes' face once more. The detective was already breaking above her. The veins in her neck were prominent with restraint and the crevice in her forehead, between her eyes was deep. Lips parted with arousal and her hair; even messier from sleep created a halo of sorts. Her ponytail hung over her right shoulder and just covered her breast.

"I'm trying, Daddy...can't you see? Can't you feel it? I'm trying..."

That got Agnes to moan without embarrassment; without holding back. Vidal knew it was hard for her sometimes to fully give in and allow herself to feel every emotion and sensation that ran through her. The longer they stayed together, the more Vidal got to see Agnes shed away from those constraints.

"...fuckbabyyeah...Icanfuckingfeelit...yourpussyfeelsosfuckinggoodaroundmycock..."

Agnes mumbled as she grabbed Vidal's hips and pulled her even closer; pushing in as deep as she can. Vidal choked back a sob at the instant impact; trying to move her hips but Agnes was too strong; was too close. Vidal's hands wrapped around Agnes' wrists and held herself there. The pressure in her lower abdomen was already built up and ready to tip over.

"Ohfuck....Agnes...fuck...letmefuckyou..."

Vidal's voice was a loud, moaning mess. She pushed her head back and slammed her eyelids shut. She could feel her legs shaking and the weight of Agnes' above her crushing her down. She drove the thought of Agnes' cock twitching inside of her cunt into her minds eye and moaned again; wriggling her hips desperately to hit against Agnes' tip.

It was like slow motion as Agnes let go of Vidal's hips and pulled herself completely out of Vidal. It was a dull wet sound filling the room before Vidal's frustrated cries took over. Agnes sat there with the biggest, cockiest grin on her exhausted face as she watched Vidal squirm beneath her.

She lost count of how many times 'fuck' and 'shit' left Vidal's pretty little mouth as her annoyance took over from being edged. She was so fucking close; just on the precipice of cumming all over Agnes' cock. It wasn't fair. She pouted her lips as she flung her head up to look Agnes dead in the face; supporting her upper body up on her forearms.

Agnes had her arms folded over her bare chest; squishing her breasts flat against her chest. She was smug, brazenly so and it made Vidal pout even harder. The agent let out a puff of air from her mouth and rolled her eyes. Vidal's gaze drifted down Agnes' neck, lingering slightly on the veins protruding under her skin, before coming down to glance at the sheen of slick on the silicone that she herself had left.

“Stop moving, you’ll take what I give you.”

Vidal silently nodded her head and held her breath as she watched Agnes take control once more. Those steady and rough hands came back to grab Vidal's waist; rough against smooth. Vidal pusher her breath out of her mouth and felt Agnes enter her once more. One single steady push; filling her with everything she could want from this woman she loved so dearly.

She would take everything Agnes offered to give her; anything at all.

Vidal focused on the steady movements of Agnes' hips. The way she grunted under her breath and tried to hold back her moans. How her hair fell around her face and dared to come out from her ponytail. The determination scattered around her face and the way her eyes traveled all over Vidal's naked body. Short nails digging into soft skin and forever plunging deeper until Agnes heard the short, choking gasp fall from Vidal's lips as she finally rode through her orgasm.

The sun hadn't even come up yet; shadows casting in their bedroom as Agnes watched with a lovesick gaze as Vidal made a mess of herself and on Agnes in the sanctity of their bed.

Agnes never wanted to let up or stop; wanted Vidal to ride wave after wave until she eventually fell back asleep. Rocked asleep to being gently loved and roughly fucked.

Agnes wanted to give and give and give and hope that Vidal would take and take and take.

[thanossssss]

Hiii!!! I recently found your blog and I LOVE your writing, I was wondering if you could do regressor nam-gyu and caregiver Thanos.

Where nam-gyu regressed while he was at work, but Thanos who was performing there saw and comforted him!

It would be awesome if you could, take your time!

Regressor! Nam-gyu w/ Caregiver! Thanos

Summary: Nam-gyu is tired and stressed at work, which leads to him regressing. Thanos notices during his show, and comforts him once his performance is over.

Contains: Age regression, small mentions of a bar, small mention/implication of alcohol, crying, pacifiers, cuddling.

Not proofread.

Nam-gyu always loved when Thanos would perform at Club Pentagon and enjoyed watching his performance, but tonight he wasn’t paying any attention to what was happening on stage. Nam-gyu felt so exhausted and his mind felt very fuzzy. He knew he was regressing, and fast too, but there was nothing he could do about it right now. He couldn’t just run over to Thanos and tell him what was happening while he was performing, he had to just wait for him to be.

For a few minutes now, Nam-gyu had been sitting on one of the stools at the bar. He had his head down and was listening to Thanos perform his last song of the night. Though, listening to Thanos sing and rap, only made him miss and want him more. Nam-gyu just wanted to be held by Thanos until he fell asleep in his arms. He could feel tears slowly forming in his eyes, becoming upset over the fact that Thanos wasn’t with him at this very second.

While Thanos was performing, he kept his eyes locked on Nam-gyu as soon as he noticed him at the bar. He couldn’t tell what exactly was wrong, but he was thinking that Nam-gyu might’ve had too much to drink and now felt sick. Whatever it was, Thanos couldn’t help but be a bit worried about him.

Once the song was over, Thanos got off the stage and went over to Nam-gyu. He sat at the bar and on the stool beside him and placed his hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

“You weren’t watching me perform like you always do? Was I not as good as I usually am?” Thanos joked, but he only got a small whine in response as Nam-gyu slowly lifted up his head. Thanos’s smile dropped when he noticed Nam-gyu’s teary eyes and sad expression.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why are you crying?” Thanos questioned while being to slowly move his hand towards Nam-gyu’s face and wiped away his tears. Nam-gyu attempted to speak, but all he managed to get out was small, incoherent mutters and whines. Because of this, Nam-gyu began to cry out of frustration, due to not being able to properly communicate with Thanos.

“It’s okay, buddy. Calm down.” Thanos stood up and hugged Nam-gyu while rubbing his back a little. “Your shift is over right? If not, I can tell your boss you’re not feeling well and you need to go home.” Thanos spoke to him. Nam-gyu nodded slightly, his face hidden in Thanos’s shirt.

“Yeah your shift is over?” Nam-gyu nodded once more. “Alright good, let’s get you home then. You shouldn’t be here when you’re so little.” Thanos said. Nam-gyu sniffled and looked up at Thanos with his teary eyes. Thanos gave him a comforting smile while running his fingers through his hair.

“You’re alright, baby. I’m going to get you home and take care of you. I know you’re tired and stressed.” Thanos told Nam-gyu while helping him stand up. Nam-gyu whined softly when Thanos pulled him up to his feet. “Hold my hand, buddy. I got you.” Nam-gyu did as Thanos said and held a very tight grip onto his hand.

Thanos slowly walked with Nam-gyu out of the club and to the car. He would’ve rushed out with Nam-gyu, but due to him being so little, Nam-gyu had a hard time keeping his balance and kept stumbling. So, Thanos walked with him at a slow pace, in order to keep Nam-gyu from falling and possibly getting hurt.

Thanos smiled at Nam-gyu as he buckled him into the car. Nam-gyu quietly stared at him with a sleepy expression. Once he got the seatbelt over Nam-gyu, Thanos closed the passenger side door and went over to the driver’s side. Though, while he did that, Nam-gyu immediately started to whimper as his lip quivered and his eyes quickly became teary again.

He was in such a small headspace that he couldn’t understand where Thanos had gone to and why he had left. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be alone and he only wanted Thanos. It only took a few seconds for Thanos to get in the car, but when he did, he saw Nam-gyu crying while covering his face with his hands.

“Oh, what happened, baby? I was only gone for a couple seconds..” Thanos frowned. Nam-gyu hiccuped a few times, before he wiped the tears from his face and looked over at Thanos. He grabbed onto his shirt, sniffling as he stared down at his lap.

The car ride home was quiet. Thanos did try to talk to Nam-gyu a couple times, but he never got a response. Nam-gyu was too little to be able to properly talk to Thanos, and he also just felt too sleepy to make any sort of noises. Though, Thanos understood. He knew Nam-gyu was sleepy and needed to get home.

Once they arrived home, Thanos was quick to get Nam-gyu out of the car and carried him into the house and to the bedroom. While Thanos carried him, Nam-gyu clung to him tightly as small, sleepy whines left him. When they got to the bedroom, Thanos laid Nam-gyu down on the bed, causing the man to immediately start whimpering as he reached for him.

“I’ll pick you up in a moment. I’m just going to change you into your pajamas, okay?” Thanos told him, before going over to the closet. As he got the pajamas, all Thanos could hear was Nam-gyu’s little cries and whines, obviously wanting Thanos back. Thanos rushed to get his pajamas, as well as grabbing his blanket, a pacifier, and a pacifier clip.

“You’re okay, baby. I’m right here.” Thanos said to him while beginning to help him change out of his work clothes. Thanos had a bit of trouble with getting Nam-gyu dressed, since Nam-gyu kept trying to grab and hold onto his hands for comfort, but Thanos did eventually manage to get him dressed. Once he did, he clipped the pacifier to Nam-gyu’s shirt, so he wouldn’t lose it, then put it in his mouth and gave him his blanket.

“Come here, little man.” Thanos spoke softly as he picked up Nam-gyu and held him in his arms. Nam-gyu laid his head down on Thanos’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Thanos carried him over to the rocking chair they had and sat down, slowly rocking Nam-gyu to sleep.

Thanos hummed to Nam-gyu and played with his hair, only making him even sleepier. It didn’t take long at all for Nam-gyu to fall asleep. Thanos smiled when he knew Nam-gyu had fallen asleep, due to hearing his quiet, little snores as well as feeling a tiny wet patch on his shoulder, from Nam-gyu drooling in his sleep. Thanos turned to Nam-gyu and gave him a small kiss on his head, before whispering to him.

“Goodnight, baby boy.”

[stars1997]

Lover Boy - part 2

Warnings: A little friskiness

Pairing(s): Jeremy Swayman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N Ullmark gets a job with the Bruins as their new photographer. They haven't seen each other in a few years, some things have changed. What happens when her brother's best friend develops a crush on her?

_______________________________________________

“I’ll take another drink please!” I slur, unaware of Jer behind me mouthing No more, to the bartender.

“Come on peeps, you have to work tomorrow night,” Jer said, locking hands with me to pull me out of the bar.

I look at him in shock, he just used the nickname he gave to me years ago. That shock was gone as fast as it came when I realized that he was trying to take me back home.

“Are we going back to yours or mine?” I ask with a smirk, drunkenly placing my hand on his chest.

“I’m going to take you home, you’ll thank me for this tomorrow,” Sway said sweetly.

“Or I could thank you now.” A smirk makes its way across my face as my hand starts to slide down his chest. His hand grabbed mine before it could go any lower.

He then turned me around and led me to the passenger side of the truck, unlocking and opening the door for me to get in.

I lean forward over the seat, my hands gripping the center console as I try to pull myself up and into the car. I let out a yelp as my foot slipped off the sidebar. Sway moved a little closer offering his hand to help.

“I got it Jer.” I announced, rolling my eyes slightly. I tried again and slipped once more. This time I lost my grip on the console, not able to catch myself. Sway grabbed me before I could hit the ground.

“Whoa there bud, I thought you had it,” Sway said, laughing at my dismay.

“Shhhhh,” I said, so quietly it was basically to myself. I got into the truck, finally without slipping. Jer shut the door and I could see him laughing from the rearview mirror.

He got into the truck and started to drive me home.

“Hey, you can’t laugh at me. I had to drink for two since someone wasn’t drinking.”

“I had to drive you home Y/n , you want to make it home in one piece, right?” He joked.

“I know I know, you would never drink and drive,” I said, I let a few minutes pass by before asking. “Hey can I see your phone, I just wanna play some music.”

He grabs the phone from the center console and passes it to me.

“Password is 1111.” He says, never taking his eyes off the road.

“How original,” I say as I scroll through his playlists trying to find a song. “Ah, I got one,” I said as I clicked on Baby by Justin Bieber.

His eyes widened. “I only have this song for my niece I swear.”

“I don’t judge Jer,” I said before breaking out in song.

“You got a wonderful voice. I can’t imagine why you didn’t become a singer.” Jer said.

Even while drunk I could sense the sarcasm in his voice, but it didn’t bother me.

Suddenly my phone rang. I looked down to see who it was. Bubba was written across the top of the call.

I tried my best to put on a sober voice (which failed) and picked up the phone.

“Hey, Bubba,” I say.

“Hey Bubs, are you coming home any time soon, it’s late I wanna lock up.”

“Yes, Sway is bringing me home right now!” I slur. “Don’t worry he’s taken very good care of me tonight, he was such a gentleman he even helped me into the truck when I kept falling.”

A couple of seconds of silence.

“How many drinks have you had tonight Bubs.” My big brother asks over the phone, his voice kind of sharp.

“Bubba you know I’m a lightweight, I only had like.. three,” I answered.

“Do me a favor, pass the phone to Sway.” He asks, nicely.

So I do.

“Here he wants to talk to you,” I say putting the phone up to Jer’s ear, he takes it from me and starts talking to my brother.

The last thing I remember is falling asleep in the truck to the softness of Jer’s voice.

_________________________

I woke up with a groan, the sunlight far too bright through the sheer white curtains hanging in my room. I slowly climb out of bed and make my way to the kitchen. I check the time on the microwave, 1 pm. Damn, I missed practice. The sound of the front door closing abruptly, makes me jolt.

“Bubs are you up?!” My brother yells from the door, making my head pound.

“Shhh, you’re too loud,” I say in response. I open the cabinet and grab some Advil.

“My apologies queen bee. Hope you don’t mind, your best friend is here.” He says, coming around the corner with sway.

“Hey, brought you this,” Jer said, throwing me a breakfast sandwich from Dunkin. “And this.” He continued, sliding a blue Gatorade down the counter towards me. I send him a smile as a thank you and they head off into the living room.

_________________________

The Bruins won the game tonight. The score was 4-0. With Jer able to get a shutout I was able to get some good shots of the boys congratulating him. I was also able to get some good photos of the bear hug. I then spent the rest of the night editing the videos and photos to put on the Bruins’ Instagram.

[rudnitskaia]

This note was supposed to appear in a Christmas fanfic, but after @acesandocs sent me an ask about RoMaunce "Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)" with an art request, I made a decision to post both the fic and the note much earlier. The fic is under the cut, enjoy the Christmas spirit in the middle of summer. :D

Bonus: the fic also tells the story of The Most Ridiculous Scarf's creation. x))

The Winter Wonder

Working until the last client was an awful practice.

Mau couldn't remember when she had gotten a good night's sleep. Hiding behind the storefront window, she rested her head on her hands folded on the counter and tried her best to keep from falling into slumber. She might have fallen asleep for real if it hadn't been for the cheerful music that was playing from the radio.

“Let's not disturb Miss Maura,” a cheerful whisper sounded barely audible next to Mau. A few coins tinkled quietly as they fell onto the counter, and two visitors headed for the exit.

She didn't instantly realize what was happening, and raised her head too late. Before the front door slammed shut, all she could see was Rocky wrapping a threadbare blue scarf around his neck with one hand, and gently pushing his cousin toward the street with the other.

The two young men who frequented the eatery, and who were different from most of the visitors, were constantly drawing a lot of suspicious stares. When Rocky had first brought his redheaded cousin to the place a few months ago, it had been noon on a workday, and the workmen who lunched at the eatery had become strangely quiet when the two young men had taken the only available table near the exit. Until that day, Rocky had always sat at that table for some reason, but every time he had been lucky enough to come to the eatery when there were few or no other guests. On his first visit with Calvin, though, it was as if he had deliberately chosen the busiest time of day. Like he wanted them to be noticed. But Rocky had guessed, apparently, that they had attracted too much attention, and since then, alone or with his cousin, he had shown up at the eatery either when honest people were busy working or at closing time, when honest people were getting ready for bed.

Such was the case to-day.

“And the following composition will immerse you…”

With a click of the switch on the radio panel the main room fell into silence. Despite the approaching Christmas, Mau was in a horrible mood, and even with all her love of music, she had no desire to listen to another sickeningly festive song. It was a cloudy, unusually snowy day in St. Louis, and Mau was apparently infected by its grayness, so even her usual chores were draining. Mau's father and the owner of the eatery, Mister Augusto Venza, had been away for a couple of weeks in Chicago on extremely urgent business, so Maura had to serve the clients alone and, moreover, had to meet 1928 all by herself. Though she was rather glad of the latter.

There will be no fuss.

Slowly, one by one, Mau counted the coins that Calvin and Rocky had left as payment for the coffee, and was surprised to find a piece of paper folded several times next to them. Unfolding it, Mau saw some amusing, almost childish, drawings in red crayon. On the first one, she herself was sleeping with a terribly sullen expression in a daisy field under a big, angry raincloud. In the second, Rocky held a sheep, which resembled a cloud of cotton candy and was eagerly munching on that raincloud, above his head, while the cartoonish Mau was already smiling. Next to these sketches was a wry caption:

“Don't be sour! Let sweet dreams eat all the bitter thoughts. R.”

Chuckling, Mau shook her head. She scrutinized the drawing for another minute or so, then sat down on the floor behind the counter and pulled one of the wooden baseboards towards herself.

“Come on, stop being stubborn…”

Finally, the baseboard gave way, revealing a narrow gap at the bottom of the counter that Mau used as a stash for part of her tips. She folded the sheet tighter and put it with the notes Rocky had sometimes left on his previous visits.

The front door suddenly swung open, letting cold air into the room. Mau's heart leapt, and she hastily pushed the wooden flap against the gap, then hastily stood up from the floor and shook off her knees.

“What is it, my dear? Are the spoons running away from you again?” the old Missis Bruno creaked in Italian.

“A keen eye you have,” Mau answered her also in Italian and added: “The usual for you?”

The woman nodded and headed for the far table. As she looked at her, Mau noticed the bright green knitted scarf under her coat and walked to the kitchen to serve Missis Bruno her favorite cheese ravioli.

“You have such a lovely scarf,” she said as she passed by. “Where did you get it?”

“Knitted it myself,” the woman's eyes flashed with pride. “There's some wonderful yarn at Scaffidi's now.”

“You're such a talented needlewoman,” Mau said, putting the pot on the stove. “I can't knit at all.”

The eatery became awkwardly quiet for a moment. Maura's revelation made Missis Bruno squirm uncomfortably in her chair. The mere thought that a woman of Mau’s age could not knit not only disturbed her, but appalled her. From the kitchen, Mau couldn't hear the old woman muttering worryingly to herself:

“Poor girl, there was no one to teach her…”

But even that wasn't enough of an excuse for her. She had friends, neighbors, and yet Maura Venza, at the age of twenty-two, could not knit! It's not a long way to ruin one's fate, thought Missis Bruno, nervously rubbing her napkin in her fingers. No, she could not let it go! A little while later, she said loudly:

“This is just unacceptable. What's your father thinking about? Certainly not that his daughter is so mature and can't knit. That's embarrassing,” her tone changed from condemning to admonishing. “Tell you what, Mau, honey, I'll teach you how to knit. It's easy, you'll see. Mama left you needles and yarn, didn't she?”

“I don't think so. Even if she did, it remained in Kansas City,” Mau lied habitually, barely containing a grin. She was amused at Missis Bruno's attitude toward such things. No wonder, though; things had been different when she had been young. Mau couldn't prove to her that knitting wasn't a required skill now.

“Not good. Not good at all,” the old woman continued to wail. “Back in my days…”

Mau sincerely hoped Missis Bruno hadn't heard the low chuckle that escaped her lips. She pulled a small bag out of the freezer. Knitting. Well now! There was a book she couldn’t finish for more than a month, and today there were mountains of plates, cups, and baking pans to wash. What knitting to think of.

Listening to Missis Bruno half-heartedly, Mau soon put a steaming plate of cheese ravioli with pesto in front of the old lady and returned to the counter. With the toe of her shoe, she again tried to discreetly slide a piece of baseboard back into the gap.

“…and then on Christmas Day…” Missis Bruno persisted. The wooden part wasn't falling into place. Mau frowned and mentally cursed. Why had she even opened the stash in the middle of the day?

Oh, yes, Rocky. Rocky and his funny drawing.

…and his old worn-out scarf.

Mau looked outside the window, watching the snowflakes fall slowly. She rarely got a chance to go outside, but Rocky, given his very specific occupation, had to be out in the cold a lot. And sleeping in the car in this weather must have been uncomfortable, too… it wouldn't take long to get sick. The mere thought of that made Maura uneasy. She pictured him huddled under his coat and a thin, shabby blanket, huddled in the back seat of the car, and she clenched the side of the counter tighter. He had been taking time out of his day for so many months now to come to her and just cheer her up with something: a humorous story, a funny trinket, or a little candy. As if whenever by any means he could find a little bit of warmth somewhere, he had always rushed to share it with her. And now, more than ever, she felt the desire to return that warmth to him a hundredfold. Slipping the teaspoon to the floor, Mau ducked under the counter and pulled back the flap of the stash.

“You know, Missis Bruno… I think you're right. I really should learn to knit. Could I ask you to lend me needles until my father returns and show me how to do it?”

“Of course,” the woman said enthusiastically, obviously pleased that her story had piqued Maura's interest. “Maybe you want to make something specific?”

“A scarf,” Mau answered without hesitation.

“Oh, a scarf is quite simple,” the woman squinted her eyes, smiling broadly. “With my advices, you’ll do it in two evenings. It's the dresses that require all sorts of tricks, but this…”

After a moment, Mau sat down in the chair opposite Missis Bruno and handed her a few crumpled bills. All her tips from the last couple months.

“Good. Can you buy a couple skeins of good yarn for me, please?”

Two evenings was easy to say! A week had passed before Mau could manage to do anything right at all. And Christmas was the day after tomorrow! So little, so little time… Mau yawned. She could hardly keep her eyes open, and therefore even had stopped watching whether the rows of stitches were knitted straight or not. She finished her work only in the morning, and fell asleep, holding her knitting in hands, with the needles dangerously close to her eyes.

And overslept.

In the morning, after freshening herself up, she hastily stuffed the scarf into a bundle of paper and rushed to the eatery. She spent the whole day in anticipation, hoping Rocky would come, and every time the bell over the door jingled, her heart jumped in her chest. Until finally the young man appeared on the doorstep, shaking off the snow from himself.

“Today is on the house, in celebration of Christmas,” she told him, setting coffee and a plate of chocolate pancakes with raspberry jam, garnished with three raspberries and sprinkled with powdered sugar, in front of him. And while Rocky, as if being hypnotized, stared at this gorgeousness and tried to guess if the berries were purposefully arranged in a heart-shaped pattern or not, she shoved the bundle into the pocket of his coat, which hung on the clothes rack behind him.

When Rocky walked out of the Venza family's eatery that evening, he couldn't stop smiling dreamily. He passed by the lamppost, dancing around it, and laughed softly, putting hands into his pockets. To think that Mau had baked pancakes just for him, and damn, what pancakes they were! But… what in the world was that?

He stared in puzzlement at the slanted bundle, and immediately opened it.

Seeing… a scarf.

Or rather, it looked like a scarf, except… the blue stitches wiggled from side to side, the crookedly sewn buttons reminded two eyes, and what should have been white trim on both ends looked more like jagged teeth. If it was a scarf, it was the most ridiculous scarf he had ever seen.

“How did you knit to me, buddy?” Rocky murmured, twirling the knitted mess in his hands. But there was no clue neither on the scarf nor in the paper shreds of the wrapper. Frowning, Rocky looked over his shoulder at the eatery and bit his lip.

Could it be that it was made by Mau?

There was certainly a chance that someone had put the bundle in his coat by accident, but somehow Rocky felt like there was no mistake. It was definitely a present. A self-made Christmas present. From Mau. For him! Rocky straightened the scarf and lifted it as high above his head as his arms could reach, looking at it like at an absolute miracle. The scarf, swaying in the wind, stared up at him with its button eyes and its crooked, white-toothed grin. And Rocky, as he continued his way toward the Little Daisy, smiled broadly back at it.

“Zib, please have mercy,” he kept whimpering, clutching at the man's pant leg. Zib made another attempt to make a step, but after dragging Rocky across the stage floor a little more, he gave up again.

“Kid,” Zib sighed, “if you don't let me go, I'm just going to sit on you.”

“Oh, please! I'll even be your personal horse, taking you out to the audience every night, right under the spotlight…”

Zib gave him a confused look and snorted nervously.

“No, I think I'll pass, thank you.”

“It's a matter of life and death, Zib! What can I do to get you to say yes? I'd do anything. Give anything. Literally. Even my eye teeth.”

“Why on earth are you so damn eager?” The man flailed his arms up. Rocky pulled himself closer to Zibowski's legs, squeezing them like a vise.

“It's just Christmas. I can't resist the urge to do good deeds. What a stale dry man wouldn't be heartbroken at a picture like this? Just imagine: a poor, unfortunate soul burning with a passion for music, but locked in a prison of pots and pans… as the servants of Euterpe, it is our duty to rectify such injustices! Even if only once a year.”

Zib groaned doomedly. He looked down at Rocky tiredly, then up at the ceiling, then back at Rocky, whose blue eyes stared back at him, not even with a plead, but with an almost childlike hope.

“I'm going to regret this…” he muttered, sighing heavily.

The next bright, frosty morning, Mau went down to the eatery and began her routine. She wiped off the dust, pulled open the curtains, opened the window vent, turned on the stove and set a batch of muffins to bake, began to prepare the batter for tomorrow as usual, and then…

…heard the music.

From the street, very close by, came a jaunty jazz tune, accompanied by the singing of several male voices. Mystified, Mau rubbed her hand over the fogged glass of the window and looked outside… no, it couldn't be. She ran out onto the porch and, still not believing her eyes, stared at the whole orchestra on the sidewalk in front of the eatery. When Rocky noticed her, he stepped forward and twirled around himself, playing his violin with an unusually wide smile. Looking at him, Mau laughed warmly and outlined the musicians with her hands, as if silently asking: How? How is this possible? Rocky only fleetingly lowered his gaze, paying her attention to his new scarf, and then winked at her, continuing his improvised dance with the violin.

It was a real wonder.

Soon the music and singing subsided, and Maura, still grinning happily, loudly applauded.

“Bravi! Bravi! Oh, but please hurry inside, I don’t want you all to catch cold! Come on!”

Zib's band could barely fit into the cramped space of the eatery, but that only made the atmosphere more welcoming. When Rocky cheerfully introduced Mau to all the musicians, whose names immediately mixed in her head, she brought out cinnamon coffee for each of them and a vase of ginger cookies to bite until the cupcakes were ready.

“Mind if I smoke?” Zib asked, making himself comfortable in the old chair. Mau shook her head, locking the door. No, there will be no working until the last client today. Today will be only the celebration.

“How could I say no after such an amazing concert? How did you all even sign up for this?”

Zib chuckled, giving Rocky a sly look.

“Well, let's just say he's got a long way to work it off.”

“Oh, it was worth it,” the young man shrugged nonchalantly.

Following the cozy Christmas aromas, the tiny room was filled with stories from Zib's band's past, music and laughter. Mau couldn't remember when she had felt so alive, so it was like a dream. Such a sweet, sweet dream. In her mind, she went back to those distant noisy evenings in New York, when every holiday she and her father celebrated in the large company of the Riva family. When there was no fear or anxiety, when there was warmth and hope in everything. Mau's gaze lingered on Rocky. She didn't understand how he, with all his troubles and hardships, every time managed to do the impossible: even if only for a short period of time, but to bring her back that long-lost hope. But it was then, on that sunny Christmas Eve, when she finally heard in herself undeniably loudly: I love you.

After more than one hour and more than one cup of coffee, after a series of stories and a particularly noisy argument, Sy climbed up on the counter and began to dance and juggle apples to the lively rhythmic clapping…

When suddenly, dumbfounded, with a key in his hand, Augusto Venza appeared on the doorstep.

[mischiefnevermanaged89-blog]

Gotta Be Somebody-Part 7

Angel Reyes X Reader

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My dearest Angel,

I’m writing this in the quiet of the night while everyone is asleep. It’s times like this I miss you the most. I miss how we would sit and stare at the sky all night on my balcony when we couldn’t sleep. I miss you every second of every day. Knowing you’re safe is what keeps me going.

Soon this will all be over and I can see you again. I take any chance I can get to leave compound to do for Adelita in hopes by some chance I’ll get to see you on this side of the border. Sometimes I think I do, but I know it’s my mind playing tricks on me.

You remember my favorite song? Gotta be somebody? All I can think about the last couple of months is how I want to be your somebody and you mine. Don’t tell dad cause he’d kill us both, but I love you, Angel. I know you love me, too. I seen it, that day that I had to leave, in your eyes.

I don’t know what will happen in the days or weeks, hell, even months to come, but I wanted you to know in case something happened to me.

I’ve got to go. Before someone wakes and sees me still awake. Until I can see you again, my angel.

(Y/N)

************************

I sat in the perch of the safe house, taking guard of Miguel’s product for Adelita. She’s started trusting me more and more lately; all thanks to my knowledge of shit from Coco and Gilly. That trust is what I’m hoping works in my favor in the weeks to come. This raid I helped with on dad and the guys is the starting line in my plan.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a whistle from my left. I looked over to see one of the guys motioning at movement in the distance. That was my que to move. It would seem dad gave Miguel my letter and he’s cashing in on that now. I slipped the silencer on my gun as I stood and walked towards the newer recruit.

With his back turned to me, I shot him and was able to catch him before he could fall and alert the others on the ground. I took out a small light from my pocket and clicked it twice, signaling Nestor and his men to begin. Once the gunfire ensued, I ran from my position and started firing.

I managed to get two more of Adelita’s men down before Nestor reached me.

“We meet again.” I said.

“That we do. What’s you’re plan here?”

“Leave me and two others alive. Shoot my arm and punch me so it looks like I was knocked out in the fight and then tie us together before you leave so Adelita finds us. Make sure to knock the others out so they don’t know I was a part of this. I’ll tell her we were ambushed and I was shot at while in the middle of everything and I was attacked from behind and knocked out.”

Nestor nodded. “Ready?”

I nodded in turn. “Yeah.”

After helping Nestor clear out the rest of the men, I helped load the van with Miguel’s product. Nestor showed me proof that dad and the others would get their money once he got back and I nodded. He aimed his gun at me and I felt the bullet pierce through my bicep.

I screamed out in pain. “Oh I’m so whooping your ass in the ring when I get out of this shit!”

Nestor chuckled. “We’ll see. Let’s finish up so I can get your guys paid and Miguel’s product back to him.”

I nodded. “Now, tie me up with those two and get out of here. She’ll know something’s up soon and come to check when I haven’t checked in.”

Nestor did as I told him to then gave me an apologetic look before everything went black.

I woke to the sound of my name being called. I looked around dazed and confused, letting my vision come back into focus.

“What happened?” Adelita asked.

“I don’t know. One minute I’m on perch keeping watch and the next there’s gunfire going off. I was attacked from behind and I don’t know anything else.” I sat up from the bed I was put in and threw my legs over the side.

“Had to be Galindo’s men. Someone is working on the inside here. How else would they know where it was being kept?” Adelita passed back and forth in front of me.

“I don’t know. It’s possible that one of the new recruits could be working for him. I seen a few of them with identical cuts on their left palms. It’s suspicious that suddenly in the last week Mini has found a few more strays on the streets and asked to bring them in.”

“Mini has nothing to do with this.” She yelled.

“I didn’t say she did. But we know how soft and kind hearted she is. She’s still a child and finding someone her age being left on the streets like she was because of the Galindo Cartel, it’s still suspicious. They could be setting us up.”

Adelita stopped and thought about what I said. “You’re right. There was two men left alive with you. Maybe one of them is the rat. We need to find out more information. My best guess is that motorcycle club you raided last week has a big part of it. I intend to find a way to stop them.”

She quickly left the tent and I let out the breath I was holding when she mentioned the club. I had to send a message to Nestor to start preparing. If I knew Adelita, it would be just a few days and we’d be on the move. I grabbed my walkie and swapped channels.

I used the signal I needed to speak. Shortly after, Nestor’s voice come through.

“Yeah.”

“Get ready. She thinks it’s the club. It’ll be a few days. I’ll signal when we move out and to where.”

“Copy.”

I took a deep breath. I had to stop her. I couldn’t let her hurt my dad and family. I couldn’t make my move yet. I had to wait. I began making plans of my own for when the time come.

***************************

Angel

I was sitting at the bar waiting for the rest of the guys to finish up at Templo when my phone rang.

“Yeah.”

“It’s me. I need to talk to Bishop.”

“Aight. Hold up.”

I walked to the door and knocked.

“Yeah!”

“Bish, it’s Nestor.” I replied.

“Come in.”

I walked in and put the phone on speaker so everyone could hear.

“What it is?”

“I just got word from (Y/N). She told me to start getting ready. Said Adelita thinks it was you guys that ambushed the site and took the product back. She said it’ll be a few days, but she’ll let me know when they move out and to where.”

Bishop sighed. “Alright. Wherever it is, I want to know. Knowing my daughter, it’s going to be the final showdown for her to end this.”

“Yeap.”

They hung up the phone and I went to walk out. Before I could get far, Bishop grabbed my wrist.

“Hold on. There’s something we need to discuss with you.”

I nodded. “Okay. What’s up?”

“Take off the kutte and lay it at the end of the table.” Bishop pointed to the far end.

I dropped my head. I knew better than to argue so I did what he told me to. I laid it out, Prospect patch up.

“You’ve done a lot for this club. You’ve done a lot for my daughter. With what’s about to go down, I need to know I have people to have our backs, my back. You’ve shown that the last few months.”

He waved his hand and all of a sudden new patches were laid in front of me on my kutte. I looked at him with a shocked expression.

“Bish, seriously?”

“You’ve earned it, kid. You’ve shown all of us how bad you want this. That’ll you’ll stick your neck out for any one of us. Welcome to the club.” Hank said, slapping my shoulder.

One by one each guy gave me a hug and welcomed me in. Last was Bishop. He hugged me to him and held me there.

“When this shit goes down, I want you by my side. You’re the only other person who loves my (Y/N) as much as me and would kill for her. I want you to protect her at all cost. I brought you in early, don’t make me regret it.”

I shook my head. “I won’t.”

Later that night, I sat up and put my new patches on my kutte. When I was done, I pulled out (Y/N)’s picture and letter she left me and read it again and again. I missed her. I wanted her home. I vowed then I’d make sure she made it home and wouldn’t leave my side again.

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

@ravennaortiz

@spnaquakindgdom

@meera10

[dvrk-moon]

POPULATION 300 - JAKE SIM

TEASER 1

synopsis : it was some bullshit that jake had to stay in a city barely on the map called elmbridge rather than going to italy with his best friend. being forced to spend a whole summer there, all jake expected to be there was old people, not a girl who hasn’t left his mind since that one night at the gas station.

word count : .9k

genre : summer love, jake x fem!reader

warnings : mentions of suicide

playlist : tba

expected release date : next month lol

i. SUMMER TRIP TO NOWHERE

There were two things that Jake hated most in the world. Heights, and going away from home.

When Jake was five, before going on a trip to an amusement park with his mother, he was fine with heights. 

But when his mom and him had reached the top of the mock Eiffel tower during their day out, and Jake had managed to watch someone’s last moments on the tower as they decided to take their own life, it was a different story.

The header: “24 Year Old Man Takes His Life After Plummet From Mock Eiffel Tower at Ark Island Amusement Park”. Forever engraved in Jake’s mind, he swore to himself to never intentionally put himself in a situation where he would be so high in the air that anything remotely similar could happen to him, someone he loved, or even a stranger. 

On the other hand, the idea of going away from home just irked Jake in such uncomfortable ways that he grew to resent it. The resentment eventually turned into hatred. 

So, when it was revealed to him that he’d have to spend his whole summer in some nameless town in the middle of the U.S. with his aunt rather than spend his summer in Italy with his parents and best friend, Sunghoon, naturally he declined. In what right mind would anyone choose an unknown town over Italy?

Clearly his aunt would. 

No matter how much he tried to persuade his parents out of it, no matter how much he attempted to convince his aunt that taking him and his younger cousin, Huiyeon, on this trip was a bad idea, and no matter how much he struggled to make Sunghoon talk to his parents about taking him to Italy anyways — because they clearly loved Jake enough to at least try and do so — instead of ‘Middle-of-Nowhere-Ville’, all his trials ended fruitlessly.

Because two weeks after receiving the proposal of the trip, here Jake was, sitting in the passenger seat of his aunt’s half-working 1998 Ford Escort, trying to drown out Billy Joel by using his hand-me-down cassette player from his dad. 

Seated behind him was assorted bags that each person inside the car had chosen as essentials to bring, Huiyeon: some old dolls she’d bought with her mom at an antique store during a trip to a small town in Oregon, her quilt since birth, dress up clothes, and of course clothes suited for a seven year old such as herself; Jake: about 20 different flannels, about 20 different cassettes, an ugly doll that he originally was going to leave at home, but since his mom considered it ‘necessary’, he packed it in his suitcase to appease her, and his polaroid; and his aunt, Seulyi: clothes you could typically find any 31 year old wearing, a picture book, a couple cassettes she had found for Jake, and some jewelry.

There were also more bags in the trunk, loaded with clothes. Due to the trunk space being so unexpectedly small, each person only got to pack two bags of clothes. The remaining things that needed to be packed were left in the bags in the backseat row, or left at home, due to lack of room.

A newly awakened Huiyeon interrupted the comfortable silence — aside from the Billy Joel songs from the radio — in the car.

“Are we there yet?” she yawned, stretching herself over as far as she could in the row without touching the bags that occupied the spot next to hers. One hand rubbed her left eye while the other one was shaken. “My whole body feels fuzzy.”

“Like TV static?” Jake questioned. He figured she was trying to wake her body up from falling asleep.

“Yeah. I feel fuzzy.” She responded, yawning a second time.

“We’re almost there,” Seulyi reassured from the drivers seat. Huiyeon and her met eyes from the rear view mirror, “give it about 20 more minutes, Hui.”

As Seulyi focused her attention back on the road, Jake took this time to fully take off his headset and pause his cassette. 

“Hey, Aunt Seulyi?” 

Seulyi hummed a half response.

“What’s the name of this town again? I forgot to look it up when I still had my phone…” Jake semi laughed. His phone was probably on his dresser at his house, or maybe in his parents room. Two days before the trip, they’d confiscated it in hopes that ‘he’d learn to keep away from it for a while’ and ‘he’d actually have to connect with people his age in real life’. Apparently, according to both them and Seulyi, the service there was horrible anyways.

What a load of bullshit. If Jake had to guess, the town would most likely be filled with old people, not anyone his age he could connect with. 

“The town is called Elmbridge. The population is only around three hundred people, so it’s more than likely you’ll see the same people more than once while you’re down there.” Seulyi informed. “That means don’t pull anything dumb, Jake.” 

Seulyi glanced in his direction, not in a way to berate him, but more in a warning way. Jake half assed a laugh as he turned out to face the window to watch trees as the car flew on the highway.

“Also, just to let you both know, we’re about forty five minutes away from actual human civilization,” she joked, “so this experience will be something interesting for us all.”

a/n : ive been formulating this story since 2020 LMFAO originally i wrote it with nct’s renjun in mind but i felt bad for emu having a sad ending for jake so here is his redemption arc

[auraworkshop]

Hello Aura!! Aaaa, okay. I’m not here to write a success story yet! But to ask if I’m as close as I felt just a couple of moments ago.

So, I found about the void, the I AM, the golden state, aaaall of it a couple of months ago and I went through probably all the stages of someone trying to get the life of their dreams.

Overconsumption, doubt, and spurts of obsessive motivation that honestly took me nowhere. I have ADHD so the methods where I had to close my eyes, stay still and affirm never did a thing for me. I’d do them, six minutes at most would pass and I’d feel like a failure.

Procrastination got a hold of me and I’d feel more motivated to script and write what I wanted than actually go and try to get it because part of me knew I’d last very little. I tried yoga nidra, hypnosis and subliminals with very little progress and most likely because of my own laziness because in my mind if I was so powerful then why did I have to try so much. I have to mention I’ve used subliminals in the past and I’ve gotten little to no results so at night I’d cry and ask what is wrong with me. Since I know they work and the law is real.

Yesterday I came across a couple of posts with ADHD friendly methods where they say to let your mind wander and to let it do its thing. Plus others saying to mentally listen to music? But that’s not what I did.

I made a playlist of songs that wouldn’t bore me and I wouldn’t feel inclined to change the song. in total an hour or so. I knew if stayed still enough my body would be numb, I wouldn’t feel my fingers, my toes, etc.

If I concentrated in the songs instead of how tedious it is to stay still then it’d be easier for me.

I didn’t know if this was the floaty feeling everyone talks about until I decided to look into the black of my eyelids and try to see beyond that while affirming. my void is full of stars so I started to affirm they were slowly appearing and suddenly I did feel like my body was lifting up from my bed and numbness extended through my whole body including my face. Pins and needles like when your arm falls asleep, some of my muscles tensed and my heart started pounding for a second, I kept affirming but the song playing plus the excitement of feeling something overwhelmed me and I started to go back.

I paused the playlist and went to listen to epsilon waves and affirm but the idea of waiting for everything to happen again overwhelmed and frustrated me.

Was I close? How should I go forward? I sorta need advice directed at my situation because I can’t relate to most void posts.

Thank you for your time!!

I can relate to this so much. Trying various methods for so long with no result yet people were out there telling me that I must keep persisting. But I just didn't understand how to persist through the frustration of getting no result. It was only when I let go of this desire and I stopped caring about anything that anything and everything happened in the best way. I cannot even think of a single method that I followed to enter the void. I just stopped caring and let my mind wander.

You've already experienced a shift within your state of consciousness if you have reached a stage where you were listening to music and letting your body go numb. You need to let yourself flow without overthinking or overloading yourself. That is why it is important to start small because the feeling of going to the void state will come in fragments at first. That's just how the state of consciousness manifests itself. Let your mind wander and flow. Do not limit yourself with doubts of why it is taking so much time or why it's not working because that is exactly what it is, trust the process.

Everything you just experienced is a confirmation that you are exactly where you need to be. It is not a coincidence that you suddenly felt pins and needles throughout your whole body. This means exactly that your consciousness has started expanding, you've gone beyond your ordinary state.

You do not have to wait for it to happen again because you are already experiencing it. What you should be doing right now is continue with the process but you are going to be more patient. Be mindful and observe that which has changed in your perception, be aware of the subtle shifts ! 🤍