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suwya · 4 years ago

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Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 5

Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

Rating: M

Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

AO3

A/N: Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta I could ever ask for . And thank to all of you who are reading this.

Chapter 5 . .

“Do not wait to strike

till the iron is hot;

but make it hot

by striking.”

(W. B. Yeats)

Everyone on the Jolly Roger was almost ready to start the journey back home and the crew was busy sorting out the last details. In the end, the little holiday had been a pleasant one; Emma was happy she had decided to embark on this adventure. But she also looked a bit worried. Wrinkles showed up on her forehead while she was chewing her bottom lip. “Henry, would you mind checking if everything is in order in our cabin?”

As soon as the kid left the main hall, Emma approached Killian. “Can I talk to you for one second?”

Killian observed how she was acting anxiously, often checking on the door in case Henry would come back. “No need to find an excuse with your boy. If you want to spend some time alone with me, you just have to ask.” He tried to minimize the moment.

She answered him with a roll of her eyes, but it was clear that something was bothering her. “Are we leaving already?” She asked.

“Probably not before tomorrow morning. I need some more time to replace the fuel and our water supplies.”

“Oh, okay.” Was her short reply. But Killian detected apprehension.

“What’s the rush?” He inquired.

She dismissed the matter with a wave of her hand and he decided to take advantage of the moment alone with her. “Why did you accept?” He suddenly asked. “To come on this trip.” He added to her puzzled expression.

“I just want to offer Henry every possible chance to live a life full of good experiences.”

Killian hummed, but he had a feeling there was something more. He made another step towards her, invading her space, and he could now distinguish the freckles that dotted her cheeks, which he found very endearing. He tilted his head and kept his eyes connected with hers, trying to read what she was not telling him.

Emma did not step back nor she lowered her stare, but she was biting her lower lip again. "And I have a lead." She admitted eventually.

He didn't see that coming and arched an eyebrow in question. "Come again?"

She looked briefly over her shoulder towards the door, but Henry wasn't in sight. "I may have found someone that could have information about my adoptive parents and their plan," she whispered in case Henry could hear her, "I know where this person is, but I don’t know how to reach him."

Killian was all ears even though he somehow already knew he wouldn't like what was coming next.

"I need a favor,” she started explaining. “This man, he appears to be on a planet… ahm...” She handed him a little piece of paper with some coordinates. “Here, see? Do you think we could make a stopover there on our way back home?”

Killian glanced briefly at the numbers written on the paper and nodded. An unpleasant feeling of anxiety was growing inside him.

“I have already arranged an appointment, well sort of, with this guy.” Emma went on. “I can set the meeting at an hour when Henry should be already asleep. He doesn't usually wake up at night, but in case he does… would you distract him until I come back?"

"What kind of appointment? Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Will you?" She insisted, avoiding his questions.

Killian sighed. "On one condition.”

“Shoot."

“What’s this guy’s name?” Killian asked as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Emma stared at him for a few seconds. “Are you going to check on him?”

“Of course I will.”

“I have already done that. Thank you, but you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m the captain here, and I have to take all the possible precautions when it comes to my ship. And you meeting someone whose name I don’t even know could represent a risk.” Killian was starting to lose his patience. Everything about this appointment was screaming danger.

Emma crossed her arms in front of her defensively, but in the end, she surrendered. “Fine. His name is Sidney Glass and he’s a journalist, he’s not a criminal or anything. He travels a lot, that’s why I’m pretty sure he’s got more current information than what I have about New-Tolemac.”

“So what’s the plan, Swan? Seduce him until he speaks?” He asked sardonically.

“Would it be any problem?” She retorted.

He swallowed hard. “I don’t like it. If he’s a journalist, it won’t be easy to make him spill any possible secret he may know.”

Emma looked behind her back again. Still no sign of her son. “Will you take care of Henry or not?”

Killian finally nodded. “I assure you, nothing will happen to the boy while he’s in my charge.” But his gut told him he was already regretting the decision.

~·~·~·~

Days passed quietly. Killian tried to bring up the topic from time to time, but she wasn’t keen on talking about her upcoming appointment, always avoiding his questions and rapidly changing the subject. She was also spending less and less time sitting near him in the main cabin at night, just in case he started worrying again. He suspected she knew that meeting this man could be risky, but he soon learned how stubborn she could be, especially with a goal in mind.

That’s why he was surprised when the evening before the scheduled appointment she approached him while cooking dinner. Henry was sitting nearby, immersed in his tablet.

“What the hell is that thing?” She asked pointing to a big hairy bug Killian was holding.

“It’s a mottled furry cockroach.” He answered as the most obvious thing.

“Yuck!” Emma scrunched her nose in disgust. “It’s huge!”

“This one? Oh, no, it’s just a baby. Grown-ups can reach even 3.5 feet length.” Killian seemed delighted.

“Is it dead?”

“Of course it is. One little bite of this creature and you’re going to pass some nasty hours of life. Its foam is poisonous.” He explained.

“And what exactly are we going to do with it?”

“Why, eat it!” Was his answer. “It’s our dinner.”

“You are not being serious, are you?”

“Believe me, with a nut of garlic butter and some secret spices only I know, it’s exquisite.”

She moved close to him, probably more than necessary. He shot an inquisitive look at her. She spoke as lower as she could so that Henry couldn't listen. “Are you trying to poison me, so that I can’t go to my appointment?”

He turned towards her and stared directly into her eyes, his face mere inches from hers. “Try something new, love, it’s called trust.” And he could sense a sudden shift in her behavior, even though he didn't know if it was because she was making an effort and opening her trust to him or if it was because they were standing so close he could feel her warm breath on his face. They stayed like that for a few beats of their hearts.

“Could you please stop making eyes at each other when I'm in the same room? It's gross.” Henry said behind them.

Emma hurried back to the table “I don't do that”, she stated, while Killian tried to concentrate on the ingredients in front of him even if he couldn't suppress a smile. What the hell was with this woman that made him act like a teenager with his first crush?

As soon as the meal was prepared Killian served it on a metallic tray accompanied by some rehydrated vegetables. When all were served with their portion of food, he opened a bottle of yellow sauce and poured just the right amount on the plates. After that, he sat down waiting for his guests’ reactions.

Emma was fidgeting with her fork, moving pieces of food from one side of the plate to the other.

Henry was the first one in giving in to it, always famished. “It's not bad at all!” He exclaimed enthusiastically.

Killian put his right elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand. He was staring expectantly at Emma.

“Okay, let's do this!” She breathed. And then she put a piece of meat in her mouth and closed her eyes, probably for savoring it better, or maybe for just not seeing what she was eating. After a couple of seconds, she emitted a sound that Killian would describe as a moan “God. This is delicious!” She purred.

Killian’s mouth fell open. He was conscious of ogling her and his pupils were probably already dilated, but he couldn't help himself.

As soon as Emma opened her eyes and met his, a bright red color flushed her cheeks, but Killian couldn't figure out if it was because she suddenly understood what she had just done, or because his inappropriate thoughts were written all over his face like an open book.

“Guys, you're doing it again.” Henry managed to say with his mouth full of food without averting his eyes from his plate.

The rest of the dinner passed in awkward silence.

~·~·~·~

It was already dark when Emma emerged from her door, wearing a skin-tight black dress that left little to the imagination. A dark leather jacket that she wore hanging from one shoulder and high heels of the same color completed her outfit.

Killian was just walking from the main cabin to the ship's entrance when he stopped short: jaw dropped, admiring the vision before him. "You look stunning." He breathed.

He tried to move towards her as casually as possible, adjusting his trousers to relieve the sudden unpleasant pressure and praying to the gods that she didn't notice it. But of course, she did, if her quick look down and a sudden blush on her cheeks were any indication.

"Good." She exhaled not making eye contact with him.

"Remind me why letting you go alone is a good idea." He spoke in a low voice at a cautious distance from her, restraining the urge to put a rebellious lock behind her ear.

"I can take care of myself." She stated finally looking defiantly in his eyes.

"I’m aware of that. But that Glass man, you don't know anything about him. Just be careful."

She swayed a bit towards him, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're being jealous." She was teasing him, he didn't need to be a mind reader to know it. But that wasn't the time to play that game, so he just gave her a warning look.

"Don't fuck it up." She smiled, and then she stepped next to him, invading him with her scent. She put her mouth to his ear and whispered: “And yes, the pun was intended.”

With that, she turned back and made her exit through the main gate.

Bloody Hell! Killian thought.

~·~·~·~

As soon as Emma left the ship, Killian sat down at his control board and switched on his computer. He inserted the name of Sidney Glass and waited until he had all the results. He had already checked on the man several times, but he hadn’t found anything conclusive yet. Maybe there wasn’t anything to find out, but something inside him was telling him to keep looking.

Not much appeared on the screen. A bunch of local prizes for articles he had written years ago. Appearances in several news conferences on various planets. He didn’t seem to have a family and he had traveled a lot.

This was frustrating. Sidney looked clean, this should have reassured him, and yet... But then two words appeared on the screen: "Lepka Industry". The man had worked for the Industry at an early age. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Killian thought.

What are you getting into? The LED light started to blink.

“Not now, Liam.” Was Killian’s short answer.

If I were you, I would go back to Althea-Seals as soon as possible, deposit that woman and her lad safe at home, and forget about them forever.

“Well, luckily, you’re not me.”

You don't know her, brother, you have no idea what troubles she could bring. And any connection with the Industry, even the most feeble one, means danger. You, of all people, should know that. Listen to me, Killian. Forget about her, before it's too late.

A voice inside Killian whispered to listen to his older brother, always with words of wisdom. But another voice, louder, was suggesting to ignore him. “Maybe it's already too late.” He sighed. .

~·~·~·~

. And it was late, indeed. Literally. Too much for his likes. More than three hours had passed since Emma had gone out, and she hadn’t come back yet. Killian was starting to feel anxious. What if something had happened to her? And he was stuck on his ship, taking care of her son. He went to the kitchen counter and poured a glass of his favorite liquor. He stared at it but didn’t drink it. He shouldn't indulge in its temptation. Henry was sleeping just a door down from him.

He was still pondering the option of swallowing the amber liquid or not when Emma opened the main gate with the code Killian had previously given to her.

First thing inside she took off her high heeled shoes, balancing precariously on her wobbly legs. She looked very tired.

“I’m exhausted” she exhaled “and I had too many drinks.”

“How was your date?” He tried to ask nonchalantly. He didn't want to show her how annoyed he was, but he couldn't help a scowl.

“It wasn't a date.” Was her dry reply.

He released a sarcastic chuckle.

She watched him carefully, “Are you drunk?”

“I would never do that while in charge of your boy, Swan.” His patience was hanging by a thread.

Emma approached him. Killian straightened his back and stared into her eyes, trying to keep control of the situation, and not wanting to give her the privilege of berating him without case, but his confidence had never intimidated her. She looked at the glass he was still holding and took it from his grasp drinking it down as if it were water. He was impressed, he knew his rum should have burned her throat.

“You still haven't answered my question.” He insisted.

“I don't know.” Was her evasive answer.

“And what does that mean?”

She shrugged. “I had some news, but not what I expected to hear.”

Bloody infuriating woman. Killian internally cursed. “Good or bad news?”

She exchanged the glass with the bottle on the counter and drank directly from that. “I don't want to talk right now.” She had no intention of divulging more information, it was clear in her posture. She was trying hard to maintain control over the situation.

He was not one to back down from a challenge. “And what do you want to do?”

At her lack of reply, he pressed “Did he touch you?”

She took another sip without averting her eyes from his, but without answering either.

To hell with personal space, he thought. With a quick movement, he took the bottle from her and deposited it in the sink, then he cornered her between himself and the kitchen counter. “Did you have fun, Princess?” He asked, mocking her royal title.

“You don't have a right to question my actions, Jones.”

“Believe me, I'm very well aware of it!” He stated, punctuating the last consonant, his face at mere inches from hers. The first thing Killian registered was that she lowered her eyes to his mouth. The second thing was that she vehemently grabbed the lapels of his vest. The third was the distinct sensation of her burning lips on his. And he had the clear impression that in the kiss she was putting all of her frustrations, and all of her hopes, and all of her exhaustion, and whatever other feeling she was experiencing.

It was frantic and desperate and hot. And Killian’s head was swirling: because of the lack of oxygen, because everything in her was intoxicating because he was already addicted and she was his drug.

“That was…” he murmured when they had to split up to recover some air.

But she didn't let him finish. “A one-time thing.” She disentangled from him and when she reached her cabin without looking back she said “goodnight Captain,” and disappeared behind the door. .

~·~·~·~

When Emma got out of bed the next morning, she had a dull headache from her hangover and a feeling that something was wrong. The ship was swaying, Killian had probably taken off during night, not wanting to waste other time to get home. Her mind immediately flew to him and the last moments of the previous day.

She had kissed him. Why? What had she been thinking? She told herself that she had probably drunk more than she could handle and she shouldn't give it any importance, but would go on behaving towards Killian exactly as she had done before. Nothing would change. They were both adults and it had been just a kiss.

But what a hell of a kiss it was. She couldn’t avoid thinking about it.

She couldn't fool herself either. She felt attracted to him, and he was probably aware of it, too. With his self-confidence, his lean torso, his ever unkempt dark hair, and his scruffy stubble. But Emma was not one who easily surrendered to a man's charms. She didn't want to get lost in the ocean blue of his eyes. She wanted to be found. The problem was that she didn't know if she could trust him.

But it was not just the turmoil of a morning after that was bothering her, something wasn’t right, she could sense it. A shake and a loud noise confirmed her foreboding. Henry woke up with a start and they briefly looked at each other before bursting into the main cabin. “What was that?” They asked in unison.

The ship was shaking and Killian had visible difficulties keeping it stable. The knuckles of his right hand were white with the effort and his bionic hand was in an impossible position. Through the windows, they could spot a very close planet.

The red LED was blinking and the metallic voice resounded in the cabin: Damages on the orbital maneuvering system and the vertical stabilizer, one of the propulsion engines is offline. I’m asking permission for landing, but I’m not getting any signals back.

Something shiny passed close to the ship.

“Was that a meteorite?” Henry asked.

“I have no idea what that was. The moment we entered the gravitational layer of this bloody planet, those bright flying things appeared out of nowhere.”

“Are we being attacked?” Was Emma’s worried question. “And why did we go so close to land?”

“There wasn’t supposed to be a planet here!” Killian was almost shouting from frustration.

Another loud bang shook the ship even worse.

“To hell with permissions! Hold tight, we’re landing over there.” He exclaimed, pointing to what looked like a spaceship's port.

Emma sat down on the same chair she used to sit at night. Then took Henry’s arm as an invitation to sit upon her knees and so Killian could keep doing his job without interference. The boy was already reaching for the man in his endless need to be helpful, he probably thought that he could give a hand in holding up the steering. But another flashing thing hit the ship and a piercing alarm started echoing through the cabin. That deterred Henry and he sat upon Emma’s lap, grabbing his mother's shoulders to avoid falling as a strong jolt shook the ship to its foundations.

While they approached the ground, big rocks appeared outside the windows, floating, and they became incandescent as soon as they came in contact with whatever atmosphere was surrounding the planet.

Was this land itself spitting meteorites? Killian tried to understand what was happening, but even if he had traveled to many different places, he had never seen anything like that. He was also worried about his crew, he wanted to look at them, be sure they were all right, but he was too concentrated on avoiding the rocks and not getting hit again.

The port was approaching fast. Killian internally prayed to the Gods above that the brakes would still work properly. He just hoped that someone could rescue the three of them alive.

After what seemed to be a long and quite difficult maneuver, the ship touched down. He turned off the engines and everything went silent. They looked at each other, waiting for a sign of life, but nothing came. Killian leaned his head against the back of the chair and exhaled. Then he got up and started rummaging through his belongings.

Emma and Henry were clinging to each other, but the boy slipped away and ran towards Killian hugging him. “You did it!” He exclaimed. The man was taken aback by this show of affection, he scratched a spot behind his right ear and tried to defuse “I’m a hell of a Captain!”

Killian took a shoulder bag from behind his hammock, and two laser pistols, delivering one of them to Emma. “What are you doing?” She asked, holding cautiously the weapon in her hand.

“We sent a request for an emergency landing and nobody answered. This planet does not appear in any known charts. I am taking the necessary precautions, it's best to be prepared for anything, good or bad.”

“I want a weapon, as well.” Henry stood there with his back straight and his hands on his hips, to reaffirm his statement.

“No way.” Emma thought that was enough to put an end to the subject.

“But what if I’m in danger and I need to defend myself?” He insisted stubbornly.

Killian retrieved his automatic harpoon from a locker near the control dashboard. “Take this. Munitions should be downstairs.” But before Henry could run towards the stairs, he grabbed the boy’s elbow and added “Don’t use it unless it’s necessary, lad. And try not to hurt yourself.” Henry nodded and ran away enthusiastically.

Stunned by the remark, Emma stood, mouth agape, staring at Killian. “Are you kidding me?”

“Don’t worry. It probably won’t work. I forgot to recharge it.”

“You forgot to recharge your weapon.” It wasn’t a question.

He was moving fast around the cabin, retrieving who knows what from here and there, packing his satchel “It was supposed to be a simple commercial trip: no big risks.” He stopped right in front of her and raised one eyebrow. “Wasn’t it?”

She looked at him chewing her bottom lip. “What are we going to do?”

“Go outside, have a look at the damages, find the replacement parts, and hope to come back home alive from this place.”

~·~·~·~

. The planet seemed to be desert, apart from the port there was nothing, just sand, and rocks. No people on the horizon.

“This is strange,” Emma said as the three of them were exploring the surrounding area. “Can you feel it too?” A sense of oppression and discomfort pervaded her.

Killian nodded. “It’s too quiet. Something is wrong.”

A large stone flew from nowhere and Killian saw as Henry was right on its trajectory. He launched himself trying to protect the boy from the inevitable collision. The last thing he felt was a sharp pain in his chest and he couldn’t breathe. Then everything went black.

#cs ff #cs au #Till the Stars Had Run Away #alternative universe - science fiction #space au #My writing

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nerianasims · 4 years ago

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Billboard #1s 1988

Under the cut.

"So Emotional" -- Whitney Houston -- January 9, 1988

It's either a song about cheating or about being hung up on an ex. She's got a love of her own, but she's "so emotional" with this other guy, and keeps a picture of him by her bed. Um, does the other guy know this? Maybe she needs to have sex with the other guy so she stops being obsessed with the touch of the previous one. It's a dance song, and I like the beat, but it's painfully repetitive in the second half. Also, while I've known the chorus to this song very well since it came out, I thought it was a normal love song until I looked up the lyrics just now. Houston doesn't sing it like she's in any pain -- well, except I bet her throat hurt from the oversinging.

"Got My Mind Set on You" -- George Harrison -- January 16, 1988

Super repetitive lyrics. But the music's really fun, and I love what lyrics there are. I wish there weren't so few, though. "It's gonna take a whole lot of money" harks back to the many Beatles songs where they sang proudly about spending money on women they loved. Still, this is an example of how George was the best solo Beatle eventually. The video's cute, too, and obviously lampshades the idea of George Harrison doing backflips and dancing.

"The Way You Make Me Feel" -- Michael Jackson -- January 23, 1988

Michael Jackson was no Janelle Monáe. On so many levels. In this case, he wasn't anywhere near her artistic standard. This song does have the lyrics "Oh I'll be workin' from nine to five/ To buy you things to keep you by my side," but it sounds more like a Beatles rip-off than a tribute. I actually didn't remember this song at all, and the video is one of those annoying 80s ones that takes an entire minute to start the song. Then Jackson does a whole bunch of "woos" and "ows" and all that stuff he did that worked in moderation. But "moderation" was not what he was doing in 1988. In any way. He actually oversings in this. I turned it off halfway through. And immediately turned to Janelle Monáe's "The Way You Make Me Feel," which I adore.

"Need You Tonight" -- INXS -- January 30, 1988

This is one of my favorite songs. It's incredibly sexy, obviously. I didn't really notice it until I was around 15, and then I NOTICED it. As I got older, the song got better. The lines "You can care all you want/ Everybody does yeah that's okay" have meant so much to me ever since I started dating seriously. Because caring was not what you were supposed to do.

Anyway, this song is phenomenal and I love it.

"Could've Been" -- Tiffany -- February 6, 1988

This song was #1 for two weeks, and all the previous ones from 1988 have been one week. How? It's a heartbreak song that starts with the lyrics "The flowers you gave me/ Are just about to die," which is painfully on-the-nose. They'd probably work in a country song, but this is lite pop, not country. Tiffany occasionally seems to be trying to do some country stuff with her voice, which is smart. But that's not enough. It's not a terrible song, but it does nothing for me. I don't remember ever having heard it before.

"Seasons Change" -- Exposé -- February 20, 1988

Speaking of songs I haven't heard before. I like this one though. The music's pretty interesting, especially the melody. The singing's excellent. And the music behind "seasons change/people change" sounds exactly like some of the music from Persona 4, so I wonder if Atlus' composer was influenced by it, unconsciously or not. It's just a couple notes, though. Lyrically, the song is about being in love now but realizing it might not last. It's good. I'm gonna look up more of their music.

"Father Figure" -- George Michael -- February 27, 1988

The music for this song is great, and George Michael as usual sings wonderfully. But um. There are some kinks that make me run screaming even when they're really mild. "I will be your father figure/ Put your tiny hand in mine" are two of them. So if you enjoy this song, I'm happy for you, it's musically lovely. I will be going to take a shower now.

"Never Gonna Give You Up" -- Rick Astley -- March 12, 1988

There was a time when I would have easily been able to have an opinion on this song. That time was long ago. It's hard to hear as a song now, rather than an internet meme. But I will not give up. (The video has almost 9 million views, sheesh.)

Okay so they're friends and now he wants a relationship. He says "You wouldn't get this from any other guy," which is a total jerkass line. Other than that, the lyrics are -- oh who am I kidding, I can't do this.

"Man in the Mirror" -- Michael Jackson -- March 26, 1988

I try to separate the art from the artist. That's in both positive and negative directions. If I love someone's art, that doesn't mean they're a good person. If I hate it, that doesn't mean they're a bad person.

This song, though -- "I'm starting with the man in the mirror/ I'm asking him to change his ways" -- uh yeah. Liar. And it's wedged in with all this "oh you should care about all the starving kids and homeless people" self-sanctification that Michael Jackson always protected himself with. This song disgusts me.

"Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car" -- Billy Ocean -- April 9, 1988

Speaking of disgust. Yay street harassment! I've never heard anything bad about Billy Ocean as a human being though. But I'm not listening to more than 5 seconds of this song. Gross.

"Where Do Broken Hearts Go" -- Whitney Houston -- April 23, 1988

She's singing to a man she wants to get back together with after they decided they needed some "space." There's a lot of naivete in the song -- "And if somebody loves you/ Won't they always love you?" No. Even if they do still love you, that doesn't mean it will work. But maybe it will. I've never gotten back together with someone after a breakup, though I've been asked to many times (percentage-wise.) I've always had an allergy to it, both because my parents got back together after divorcing and should not have, and because I had a friend who broke up with her boyfriend and got back together with him at least 8 times in the space of a year and I had to keep hearing about it.

So this song doesn't really speak to me. But it's pretty good. Houston sings it well too, reigning in the oversinging until near the end.

"Wishing Well" -- Terence Trent D'Arby -- May 7, 1988

That's an awesome name. The writer of this song said he wrote it when he was half-asleep, which makes sense. "Butterfly tears", okay, just poetry, but you want to fall in love near a well of crocodile tears too? Doesn't that mean you're faking? I like the song though. It's sort of funk, but softer than full-on funk. I like the way D'Arby sings it. The whistling part (keyboard whistling) is very enjoyable. It's a fun song, and one I do remember from the time.

"Anything for You" -- Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine -- May 14, 1988

A pretty breakup song. But, of course, I have an issue. "I can pretend each time I see you/ That I don't care and I don't need you/ And though you'll never see me cryin'/ You know inside I feel like dying." Well that makes his life a lot easier, doesn't it. The whole song is about how she'll do anything to make him happy. Urgh. She needs to tell him to get out of her life so she can make a brand new start.

"One More Try" -- George Michael -- May 28, 1988

Yet another heartbreak song. It's not surprising that I remember so few songs from this year. I feel like I'm back in the 60s before The Beatles again. Though this year is musically better, I'm still bored. Anyway, in this one, the narrator doesn't want to try again, and he keeps addressing the person he doesn't want to try again with as "teacher," which is... a thing. The only time he seems willing to try again is the very last line, which is "Maybe just one more try."

It's slow, it's pretty enough, it would be unbearably boring if George Michael weren't such a good singer. I'm bored anyway. No wonder we ran screaming from anything smacking of this kind of thing in the early 90s. I feel stupid and contagious.

"Together Forever" -- Rick Astley -- June 18, 1988

He certainly had a brand, didn't he? The song title tells you everything you need to know about the lyrics. The song sounds a lot like "Never Gonna Give You Up," but much more boring. A massive drum machine intro can't carry this. I do recognize the chorus, but that's it. The song is fine, really. But that's it. It sounds like a lesser knockoff of "Never Gonna Give You Up."

"Foolish Beat" -- Debbie Gibson -- June 25, 1988

Heartbreak song. Sigh. There's a nice cheesy saxophone that I like, at least. She left him and she regrets it and thinks "I could never love again/ The way that I loved you." Nope, it's never the same. That doesn't mean it's worse. It's often better. I'm not listening to the whole thing, not even in case the sax comes back. The song's too dull.

"Dirty Diana" -- Michael Jackson -- July 2, 1988

It's about some groupie trying to seduce poor widdle helpless Michael. I don't remember ever hearing this song, and it's musically whiny too. Yuck. So much yuck.

"The Flame" -- Cheap Trick -- July 9, 1988

Heartbreak. Song. Again. "You were the first, you'll be the last" oh no they won't. I entirely approve of being honest about heartbreak, but this year is just crushing with the monotony of it. At least there's a beat to this one.

By the way, in the video, the lead singer's hair appears to be made of straw. Ah, the late 80s, when people thought cooking their hair was the way to go.

"Hold on to the Nights" -- Richard Marx -- July 23, 1988

A heartbreak song in disguise. He's in love with this woman but they can't be together. Are they cheating? I don't know. I don't care. It's so boring, words and music both. Even the piano is blah.

Speaking of late 80s hair, it looks like Richard Marx used an entire can of Aqua Velva on his in the video.

"Roll With It" -- Steve Winwood -- July 30, 1988

This was a #1 hit for four weeks, and I know why. It's not boring! Or depressing! It's got kind of an old-fashioned soul sound: Horns, groove, lyrics. When life is too much, roll with it baby. Not profound, but this is a really good song. One I've heard quite a lot, too, on purpose and everything.

Also, Steve Winwood's hair would work fine today. Coincidence?

"Monkey" -- George Michael -- August 27, 1988

This is actually kind of a heartbreak song, but not really. The one he loves has a "monkey" on their back and he wonders if they love it more than they love him. Addiction is my guess. It's a high-energy dance song, though -- it sounds a little angry, not sad at all. I find the melody sort of dull, but at least there's a beat. But I'm sorry, "Why can't you set your monkey free" is an absolutely hilarious lyric, and I can't take this song seriously in any way.

I think I had the hat George Michael's wearing in the video.

"Sweet Child O' Mine" -- Guns N' Roses -- September 10, 1988

Okay, yeah, sort of a heartbreak song, the relationship sounds like it's a mess with "where do we go now?" sung a zillion times. But it's so good. SO good. And it's rock. It's no wonder that it's one of the few songs that have stayed around from this list. It's not some kind of mass-produced pap without personality. Only Guns N'Roses could do this. Great song, I love it, and I love it more knowing what came before it. Man, Slash can play.

"Don't Worry, Be Happy" -- Bobby McFerrin -- September 24, 1988

Yeah, I'm guessing people were horribly sick of all the overproduced depression on the charts this year. A lot of music critics, and other critics, were really nasty about it because of the simplicity of its lyrics and its earworm-ness. And we made fun of the phrase plenty as young teens in the 90s. But now? I think it's pretty good. Philosophically, it's a mess, but the music isn't serious so I don't think we're supposed to take it seriously. And I like a-cappella. It was played way too much back in the day, though.

(Robin Williams is in the video, which made me tear up. Oof.)

"Love Bites" -- Def Leppard -- October 8, 1988

Technically about heartbreak I guess, but I feel like they're lampshading all the songs from this year which may as well have had the same title. Probably not intentionally. I can't take this song the tiniest bit seriously. It's rock, but not with a lot of personality. Any hair metal band from the time with interchangeable bleached blond frontmen could have done it.

I think this guy used an air fryer on his hair.

"Red Red Wine" -- UB40 -- October 15, 1988

One is supposed to hate this song, or was I don't hate it. I was a kid when it came out, the pop reggae appealed to me, and I still find it fun. Neil Diamond, the original singer, likes it. I certainly find it more interesting than anything with Neil Diamond singing on it.

"A Groovy Kind of Love" -- Phil Collins -- October 22, 1988

It's a cover of a 60s song. "Baby, you and me/ Got a groovy kind of love." This version is incredibly slow, and doesn't have any interesting drum work from Phil. It doesn't make me angry, but it doesn't make me anything. It's there. My brain wandered off and I started looking at stuff on the internet while trying to listen to it.

"Kokomo" -- The Beach Boys -- November 5, 1988

I loved this song as a kid and no one is prying it from me. It makes me happy when I feel down. I got the Cocktail soundtrack this is on for Christmas in my stocking 1988 -- me and seemingly every other kid, I think the tape was massively on sale. I loved the soundtrack, and I especially loved this song. I will never see the movie. I always felt that the song was a middle-aged man singing to his middle-aged wife ("pretty mama".) Which I thought was sweet. I figured that's what middle-aged people did, went off on vacations to tropical islands sometimes, even though my parents never did. I want to though.

"Wild, Wild West" -- The Escape Club -- November 12, 1988

"Heading for the nineties," hm? Well one of the lines is "give me, give me safe sex," and safe sex messaging being absolutely everywhere was an early to mid 90s thing. It's always funny to hear someone with an English accent sing about something extremely American. This song does sound like it's heading for the nineties musically, which is good. Only heading toward though. It's okay, but not very interesting. The music is repetitive. I got bored halfway though.

"Bad Medicine" -- Bon Jovi -- November 19, 1988

Your love is like "bad medicine" and he's addicted. Like a monkey on his back. What's with that phrase this year? I don't recognize this song. It's overproduced, it's shouty, there's too much going on, and it feels like it's trying too hard. Nope.

"Baby, I Love Your Way/ Freebird Medley" -- Will to Power -- December 3, 1988

I'm used to the 90s cover of "Baby, I Love Your Way" by Big Mountain. And I don't think I'm being biased when I say the Big Mountain version is significantly better. The lead singer of this one, a woman, is way too breathy and mannered.

The "Freebird" portion is bad. Just plain bad. The man singing is also breathy and there's absolutely no oomph. Also a lite, bouncy pop song in which the woman is singing how much she loves the man and the man's like "no I gotta be free" is blech. It does not work.

"Look Away" -- Chicago -- December 10, 1988

This was Chicago's biggest single. The narrator's ex called him to tell him she's with someone new, and he pretends to be happy for her, but wants her to look away so she doesn't see the tears of a clown -- er, no, that's a better song. Same idea though.

A heartbreak song, but I don't mind it, because it's got some blood to it. It's not slow and there's a real beat. Also Peter Cetera wasn't with Chicago any more, so Bill Champlin's the lead singer here, and he's so much better than Cetera it's ridiculous. Champlin brings some guts to the song, he doesn't sing through his nose, and he sounds truly heartbroken. Worlds better than Cetera. So it's a good enough song, if you're in the mood for that kind of thing.

"Every Rose Has Its Thorn" -- Poison -- December 24, 1988

I never minded this song before at all, but I am so sick of this kind of song at this point. Whine whine whine every cowboy sings a sad sad song. You're no Johnny Cash, dude. He said something wrong, he doesn't know what it was, they broke up and he still doesn't know why -- okay, who does this? Actually wait, I know one person who did this, and he keeps saying he has no idea why either of his wives broke up with him and I do because I was there and they told him they would break up with him if he didn't change. Over and over and over and over. And now he's like "poor me, I don't know why this happened. " He probably doesn't, either. He cannot admit fault.

Anyway, projections of my own personal trauma onto a hair metal band aside, the narrator’s ex is now with someone new and he thinks "I never meant that much to you." Maybe, maybe not. Cowboy, change your ways today.

BEST OF 1988 -- "Need You Tonight" by INXS and "Sweet Child O' Mine" by Guns N' Roses. WORST OF 1988 -- "Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car" by Billy Ocean

#billboard number ones #there are a lot this year

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takingcourage · 5 years ago

Text

Additions: Part 2

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 3,700

Summary: During their first morning at home, the kids start settling in and Jaime and Arden get their first taste of parenting.

Note: Based on my drafting and outlining, I anticipate that this series will be 6 full parts (give or take one) and a brief epilogue. I should be able to post at least an update a week from here on out -- hopefully more, if editing and polishing go smoothly.

I also wanted to include a quick note about content. As the story progresses and you get to know more about the kids, you’ll see that they’ve experienced a fair share of difficulties. Although I ultimately want this series to be a hopeful and uplifting read, I also don’t want to be naive in the way I deal with their upbringing. If you have any concerns about the way I’ve portrayed any elements of this story, please tell me. I’d much rather correct my mistakes than make a further mess of things.

Anyway, happy reading!

June, 2027

Arden woke early, not quite believing that she’d actually slept through the night. As she consulted the phone on her nightstand, she felt Jaime stir at her side. When his imploring hand reached out to caress her hip, she flipped over to face him.

“It isn’t even daylight,” he urged, voice thick from sleep. “We could go back to sleep.”

She snuggled up to him, cool nose nuzzling his shoulder. “I don’t want them to get up before we do. And I forgot to ask last night if they like pancakes.”

He chuckled and lowered his face to kiss her hairline. “They’ll be here next Saturday too.”

Arden’s fingers teased the patch of hair on his chest, her voice growing quiet at the intimation. “But you know how important it is for us to be consistent. It’s their first full day here and I want to start things off right. Plus, it’s tradition.”

Jaime buried his face in her hair, his lips providing assurances before he ever gave voice to them. “We’ll start plenty of new traditions as a family of five. If they don’t like pancakes, we’ll find other routines to get into.”

Wiggling even closer, she basked in the remnant of sleep warmth that lingered between their sheets. On any other day, she’d have been tempted to stay there until some outside force pulled them both from bed, but she was far too full of thoughts on this morning to lose herself in such amusements.

“And I can almost guarantee that they’ll like pancakes.”

She giggled into his ribs. “Probably so. All right, I’m getting up now.” With a slight groan, she pushed herself away and left the bed. Entering the bathroom, she heard the telltale rustle of blankets as her husband joined her.

“It may be a little early to start on breakfast, but we can go drink some coffee while we wait for them to get up,” he suggested, bypassing her at the double-wide vanity.

“It’s never too early for coffee.”

Jaime shook his head and stepped into the shower with a grin. “I’m enabling your addiction, aren’t I?”

She cocked a brow, but didn’t dignify the comment with further response. Instead, Arden made her way to the dresser and set about choosing an outfit for the morning. The options were still sitting at the foot of their bed when Jaime emerged from the shower, hair dripping onto her bare skin as he leaned over her to take a look.

“I didn’t figure this part out before,” she admitted, rotating her face so she could see him. “Do I put on lounge pants or real clothes? I want them to know that we’re down-to-earth, but I don’t want to look like a slob. We’re supposed to “model good choices” and all of that.”

He hugged her tightly, and though she squirmed automatically against the loose droplets of water that transferred to her skin, it didn’t take long for her to relax into his continued touch.

“You’ll be modeling good choices no matter what, babe. Before you know it, you’ll be back to work and long gone by this time most mornings. Besides, I think our Saturdays now are for lounging around and enjoying family time.”

“Okay.”

Arden took the advice gratefully, slipping her jeans back onto the shelf in her closet. She pulled on the drawstring sweatpants she’d selected, subconsciously checking to make sure they hadn’t gotten too wrinkly in the days they’d spent sitting in her drawer.

“Ready?” came his quiet question minutes later.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

He gave in, and the easy motion bolstered her strength. “We’ve got this, Arden.”

The relative darkness of the house meant that they had to navigate by memory. As they crept down the stairs, Arden had to suppress the feeling that they were some strange variety of burglar -- tiptoeing and avoiding all excess noise in their own home. On reaching the kitchen, Jaime flipped on a single light and withdrew the bag of grounds from the cupboard.

No sooner had Arden turned on the sink to fill the pot than footsteps creaked on the stairs. Their daughter appeared in the kitchen doorway moments later.

“Morning, Sophia.” Jaime gave her a welcoming smile as he folded back the top of the package of coffee.

“Good morning,” Arden echoed, briefly taking in the girl’s appearance.

“Good morning,” came the tentative response. One hand raised to brush the neatly-parted hair behind her ear. The other slipped into the pocket of her jeans.

Why am I so awkward? Just say “good morning” back like a normal person.

The errant thought wrenched Arden’s heart, and she nearly dropped the pot of water balanced between her hands. Trying not to stare at the girl before her, she shifted it to the counter. She’d just decided to offer the child some coffee when Sophia spoke again.

“Sorry,” she breathed, so cautiously that the words were almost a whimper. “I’m really bad at sleeping in new places and I woke up super early. I can go back to my room if that’s what you want.”

Exchanging a quick glance with Jaime, Arden took a step toward the doorway. “Only if you want to. We weren’t sure what time you were used to eating breakfast, so we thought we’d come down and start with some coffee until you were all awake. Do you want some? We’d love to have you join us, even if you don’t want any.”

In the months leading up to the placement, Arden had expected that interactions with their children would come as naturally her interactions with guests on the show – that all the right words would fall from her tongue at all of the right times. In the past eight years, she’d grown accustomed to the easy confidence she felt with her on-set persona.

Her parent persona seemed incredibly stilted by contrast. Talking with her daughter was more like rehashing a script than anything genuine. She could practically feel herself checking off the familiar reminders.

Be nurturing. When possible, let the child make decisions for herself. Include the child in normal family routines.

Swallowing hard, she wondered how long it would take before she stopped second guessing her responses to everything.

Sophia offered the shadow of a smile, tugging her hand from her pocket with no small degree of difficulty. “I like coffee.”

Arden’s brows scrunched. “Do you like it black?”

The girl couldn’t hide her impulse of disgust at the question, mouth souring at the thought of the bitter liquid. “Ugh, no.” Seeming to catch herself, she amended, “I can’t drink it like that.”

“Oh, good,” Arden sighed with relief. “Neither can I.” With renewed purpose, she opened the fridge and searched for the various bottles of creamer she knew resided on the shelves. Finding them, she ushered Sophia over for a look. “Do any of these sound good?”

Sophia squinted at the bottles she indicated, lifting her hand again to confirm that the hair was still tucked behind her ear.

Arden gave her space, careful not to stare when it was so clear that she wasn’t ready to meet her eyes.

But avoiding her face was hard. Those features had been seared on her memory for the better part of the past year. Seeing them before her now, she was struck by how notably they’d changed since September’s filming. The clear skin that she’d had in the initial video was now marked with a smattering of acne across her hairline, and her round cheeks had hollowed considerably over the course of the school year.

She’s hardly a child at all, Arden realized with a sense of alarm. We’re going to have a teenager in the house in less than a year. I don’t think we’ve spent time around teenagers since we were teenagers. What have we done? There’s so much research I’ll have to do for–

As her thoughts began to spiral, Sophia’s voice dragged her out of the vortex.

“Ca– May I try the hazelnut?”

Still trying to settle her mind, Arden retrieved the creamer she’d requested, along with the gallon of milk for herself. “If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to try any of the others.” She knew the response was delayed, but at least it felt better than not saying anything at all. “I like to switch things up now and then, so I usually have a few to choose from. Jaime doesn’t like anything in his at all,” she offered conspiratorially, placing the of bottles on the counter. “It’s gross, but he refuses to drink it any way other than black.”

Jaime jumped in to defend himself, and soon the three of them were seated around the dining room table, mugs in hand.

By the time the boys surfaced more than an hour later, they were just starting in on their second pot.

“Ew, yuck,” Will announced on entering. “Coffee is dis-cuss-ting.” The word was drawn out, lisped over a pair of missing incisors.

Alex elbowed him and traded a look with his sister.

Jaime topped off Arden’s mug and passed her the sugar jar knowingly. “Well, we’ve got plenty of coffee if you happen to change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Will promised, still rubbing his injured side. Taking a large step away from his brother, he found the empty seat at Sophia’s side.

“How about you, Alex? Coffee?”

The boy’s tangled mop of hair shook vigorously.

“All right. What about pancakes?” Jaime offered instead.

I told you they’d want them, he told Arden when a round of nods circled the room.

“I can help make pancakes,” Sophia volunteered, pushing her empty coffee mug to the center of the table.

“That’d be great,” Jaime agreed. “Do you like them with blueberries?”

Sophia looked at her brothers, discomfort evident in her puzzled expression. “I’m not sure. I don’t think we’ve had them like that before.”

“I don’t like raisins,” Will chimed in.

Arden’s face must have displayed her confusion at the younger boy’s admission.

“We ate a lot of raisins with our last foster family,” Sophia offered by way of explanation. “He didn’t like them.”

Alex grumbled something under his breath.

Sophia shot a warning gaze as she passed by his chair. “As long as they’re not raisin pancakes, we should be fine.” She stepped through the archway and stood attentively.

“I’ll make some both ways, just so we’re safe.” Jaime retrieved a mixing bowl from the cabinet, then set about gathering dry ingredients.

“You’re the one making them?” Their daughter’s voice cracked with the question. “I mean, I don’t mean that in a rude way. I just thought she was going to…” The girl’s wide eyes scanned the back he’d turned to her. He’s a nice guy. I’ll be okay.

Arden felt like the wind had been knocked out of her as she watched the scene unfold. She knew a fair bit of Sophia’s history, and she’d picked up a handful of nonverbal cues when they’d visited the kids before, but no proof was as stark as what she was seeing and hearing this morning.

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. The thought of Jaime being anything other than trustworthy was ridiculous. Anyone who’d known him longer than thirty seconds could tell he was a man of impeccable character. Sophia was probably safer in the kitchen with him than she could be with any other person in the world.

But she doesn’t know that, Arden reasoned. She’s been hurt before and trust takes a long time to build.

Resolved, but somewhat deflated, she passed the threshold.

Sophia visibly relaxed at her presence.

“Do you want to get the eggs from the fridge?” Arden asked with a reassuring smile. “How many do we need, Jaime?”

“Today? Let’s start with three and see where that gets us. I haven’t made this many in a long time. It’ll take a while to cook them all,” he chattered on amiably.

Arden caught Will’s restless squirming from the corner of her eye. “Do you boys want to go and play for a while or stay in here and wait with us?” The idea of keeping all three of them entertained between now and breakfast was a little daunting.

“Can I take Opie for a walk?”

“Sure!” she replied instinctively.

Panic flared across her consciousness as she realized her mistake. I can’t just leave Sophia alone with Jaime. And I’m not letting a seven-year-old go walking through the neighborhood by himself.

Unless Alex wanted to stay and help too, splitting up was probably a terrible idea.

Please volunteer to help, please volunteer to help.

Alex continued staring at the grain of the table, fiddling with the collar of his pajama shirt.

Jaime met her eyes across the room. His quizzical brow quickly cleared in understanding. “Alex, would you mind helping too? I’ve got a perfect job for you.”

It looked for a moment as though he was going to grumble at the request, but his face soon reset and he marched into the kitchen without complaint. Sophia’s calm demeanor assured her that they’d made the right decision.

Thank you, she mouthed over the back of the boy’s head. Jaime smiled his response.

Turning her attention to their youngest, she found him already petting the dog in the hallway. “I’ve got the leash here. Do you want to put it on?”

Will’s bright eyes lit at the suggestion.

Arden passed the cord over, watching closely as he clipped it onto Opie’s collar. “He likes you,” she informed him with absolute certainty. “And he’s going to be so excited to have someone new to take him on walks.”

The boy beamed at her, tongue visible in the spaces between his missing teeth. She’d once thought that Jaime was the only person on earth whose smiles could stop her heart, but she recognized the distinct patter in her chest. For entirely different reasons, this child already had her wrapped around his finger.

She was stirred from her musings by the sensation of a small face rubbing against her shin. Jinx strolled by, pausing momentarily to sniff the length of leash that dangled on the floor.

“Can Jinx come for a walk too?”

Arden giggled, catching the cat’s derisive tail flicking even if she didn’t hear her thoughts. “I don’t think she’d like it very much. She really just wants to sleep and look out the window these days.”

“Is she old?”

“She’s older than Opie is.”

“Can we get a new cat for her to play with?”

“Maybe someday,” she answered noncommittally. Saying no to this boy was going to be an incredible test of willpower.

With a quick wave toward the kitchen, they were ready to go. The morning had hardly started, and Arden already felt that at least one potential crisis had been averted. Repeating Jaime’s earlier affirmation, she followed Will out onto the lawn.

We’ve got this.

_____

July, 2027

Arden was’t sure when she’d been more relieved to pull into the garage and put her car in park. All she’d been able to think about since leaving was getting back to their kids, and the view of silhouettes through the front window had made her impatience all the more palpable.

She practically flew through the adjoining door and into house.

This was the first day that they’d needed her dad and stepmom to help fill in the gaps between schedules, and she’d be lying if she said that the arrangement had left her feeling easy. She had nothing against either one of them, but guilt had been gnawing constantly for the two hours she’d been gone.

These were their kids. Their responsibility. Turning those duties over to others -- even family -- filled her with trepidation.

“Mommy!” Will leapt from the couch before she’d even fully made it through the entryway.

“Hey, guys!” she returned his enthusiasm, pulling him tight for a hug. His arms lingered at her waist a little longer than necessary, but she couldn’t help reveling in the affectionate show. Knowing that her desire to see him was reciprocated was extremely gratifying. When she glanced up, Alex’s eyes were on her.

Traitor.

Her mouth ran dry at the older boy’s thought. It wasn’t the first time she’d been privy to hints that he was uncomfortable with Will’s quick attachment, but it was easily the most incriminating thing she’d overheard in the five weeks they’d spent together.

“How’s your day been?” she asked Will, trying to push Alex’s response from her mind.

“Good. Knock knock.”

“Oh, I love my welcome-home jokes.” With a cheesy grin, she set down her work satchel and gave the boy her full attention. “Okay, ready. Who’s there?”

Will’s features danced with excitement, the excess energy coming out as tiny shuffling steps across the hardwood floor. “Lettuce.”

With a giggle, Arden complied. “Lettuce who?”

“Lettuce in, we’re cold out here!” Having recited the punchline, he gave a triumphant hop into the air.

She treated him to a breathy laugh, catching her father’s smile out of the corner of her eye. “That’s a good one.” Stretching out a calming hand to grasp his elbow, she asked, “Where’d you learn it?”

Will pointed to Harry, still seated on the couch with a pile of books on the cushion next to him.

“He’s been reading them to me for the past hour,” Harry confirmed. “This one has a whole section in this one about vegetables.” His dubious look was reflected in his tone.

“Oh yeah! There’s one about radishes! Can I tell it?”

Although she continued to engage with Will’s babbling, Arden’s eyes drifted to the other child in the room. Alex was still scribbling away in his sketchpad, the papers angled close to his chest so that no one could see the resulting artwork.

What is it that’s going on in that head of yours? she wondered, feeling the faint furrow of her brow. But no answering thoughts met her question.

Bringing her conversation with Will to a close, she wandered into the dining room to find her daughter and stepmother engaged in one of Julie’s trademark pastimes.

Jewelry making had always struck Arden as a remarkably fiddly way to fill one’s hours, but she couldn’t help admiring the strand Sophia was stringing together from the colorful array of seed beads strewn across the table in bags.

She sat across from the table’s two occupants, eyes glazing at the repetitive motion of Sophia’s nimble fingers. “Those look amazing,” she said, considering the small assortment of bracelets and necklaces piled on the other side of the table. “Do you mind if I look?”

Sophia’s eyes met hers momentarily as she shrugged. “Go for it.”

Arden looped a finger through a prominent chain and pulled the collection toward her.

“Julie told me I could use her beads to make some back-to-school jewelry,” she explained, keeping a tight hold on the end of the wire as she searched for the next bead in sequence. “Do you want me to make something for you too?”

Arden’s breath hitched at the suggestion, and her response came slowly. “I would love that. You remember that dress you helped me pick out at the mall last week?” At the girl’s nod, she continued. “I’d been thinking about pairing it with a necklace that has some deeper greens…maybe some blue in there too? I’ll leave it up to you.”

With an approving smile, the other woman entered the conversation. “I’ve got lots of beads in those colors. If there aren’t any here that you like, I’ve got plenty more at home.”

“Thanks, Julie,” Arden expressed gratefully. “And thanks again for coming over this afternoon. You really helped us out.”

“We’re happy to do it anytime.” She selected a pair of pliers from the tools before her and cinched the clasp on her bracelet. “How was your interview?” she asked as she draped the piece over her wrist.

Rolling a bead between her fingers, Arden considered the question. “I think it went well. We’ll have to match what this new group said against the rest of our records, but I we may have finally found the missing link.”

“It always sounds so much like you’re doing detective work.”

“Sometimes it feels that way too,” she admitted with a half smile. “I just like to get to the bottom of a good story.”

“You certainly have a knack for it.” Bracelet donned, she rose from the chair. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

Seizing the opportunity, Arden shifted to the end of the table nearest her daughter. “Speaking of getting to the bottom of things, can I ask you something?”

Curious eyes glanced at her before returning to project between her hands. “What?”

“Alex seems like he’s in a weird mood today. Do you know if everything’s okay?”

Sophia reached for a new bag of beads, her forehead scrunching in contemplation. “He’s always like this at the end of summer. I think he’s just upset that he has to go back to school soon. He hates it.”

“Do you think there’s anything we can do to make him feel better about it?”

“Eh, not really.”

“Is there something specific about it that he hates?”

Raising her shoulders slightly, Sophia answered, “He hates homework and classes...kinda everything, really.”

“Okay.” Arden relaxed against the back of the chair. “We’ll see what we can do about homework and classes and...everything, then.” After a pause, she added her thanks.

“Welcome.” Holding the strand to the light of the window, she took a better look at the work she’d done. Apparently satisfied, she placed another bead before sharing her thoughts further. “I don’t get it, but he really does hate everything to do with school.”

Arden had seen comments to that effect in Alex’s case file, but hearing it from Sophia’s lips was still unsettling. Based on his behavior and the thought she’d overheard before, she was starting to have the sneaking suspicion that his agitation was being caused by something more than just school.

She wasn’t going to stop investigating until she knew just what that something was.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #wishful thinking #jaime lewis #jaime x mc

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brujeria-histeria · 5 years ago

Text

Deadly Dreams

a Hacy fic, warning this is a bit long.

Harry tiredly shuffled to his bed in his condo, he was extremely exhausted from today’s demon hunting and his powers were seriously depleted due to the elaborate plan Mel came up with to defeat a siphoning demon who smoked away. He also needed to regain focus before he did something embarrassing like orb 1000s of miles away again, he was barely retaining a grip on his orbing.

Ironically the cause of him being unfocused is one of the people he was supposed to be focused on. Macy Vaughn, his charge. It had been 7 months exactly since they removed the source from her body. She still had demon in her, but it seemed to have not made her act erratic as much as it did. Harry suspected since her powers had become unbound her pent up demonic side became unbound too and unlike dear Maggie’s former beau, Parker, she didn’t have years to control it enough so that she did have her evil attitude moments, which Harry would never admit he found it, in the kids terms these days, super hot.

Harry really hated the fact that once again his romantic soul found another object of affection to pine after. He really hated that it was his own charge, which is worse than before when it was just his charge’s older sister.

Harry forced himself to get out of bed and take a hot relaxing shower to get his mind off things. The hot steaming water hit his muscles and he sighed in content, he was fine until about 10 minutes into his shower a curly haired beauty popped into his imagination. Harry snapped his eyes open as he felt warm, not from the water and tried to focus on other things. Yuck like the Harbinger’s gross face or that film douchebag’s extra dudebro speech. Hm, he really needed to stop picking up the girl’s Lingo.

He finished up his shower and went to his kitchen to have a relaxing cup of tea before bed, he received a special breakfast request and goodnight text from Maggie in the group chat she made for them the “Vera-Vaughn-Vera Sisters+Brother” chat. The other sisters responded to Maggie and Mel told him to make sure he rested up and don’t mind Maggie, who responded with puppy dog eyes emoji. Harry texted back he’s up no matter what and he’d be happy to make something new for Maggie. Harry trotted of to bed and fell asleep.

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

“Earth to Harry! Hello, you in there?” Mel was waving her hand in front of his face when he snapped his eyes open. He didn’t remember getting out of bed.

“I, uh, I’m sorry.” he stuttered.

“What are you sorry for? You were standing there with your eyes closed for like a minute and didn’t respond. I thought you kicked the bucket.. again. Macy would have a fit if you did.” Mel said helping herself to coffee.

“Macy? ah uh, no. um. Sorry It was a whitelighter thing, I felt one... die.” He lied.

“Aw Harry I’m sorry, I forgot you guys can feel that stuff.”

“Yes, well it happens.” Harry was very confused at the moment, and trying to act normal. Mel said her goodbye grabbing her breakfast sandwich, which he must have made, on the way out. 30 seconds later Maggie skipped down into breakfast. “Harry, aw you made those breaded eggplant breakfast sandwiches I asked for, aw you’re the best big brother ever.”

Now Harry knows they have fatherish brother and sister bond going but he only remembers her calling him her honorary sister once and brother on the group chat title. Before he could ask, in walked in Macy.

“Hurry up and eat your breakfast Maggie, I don’t want to be late dropping you off.” Macy said walking towards Harry. Maggie said a muffled ok through her munching.

“Hey you, Macy.” Said getting closer to Harry.

“Macy, hi-”

She kissed him, it was a peck on the lips. Harry stared, while she smiled at him and then he pulled her back to him and kissed her longer and with more passion.

“EW! In front of my sandwich?!! Get a room!” Maggie shrieked. Harry broke off his kiss from the eldest sister. He expected Maggie to say “when did you two get together?” or “harry stop perving on my sister” or something, but instead through Maggie’s facial expression of disgust she seemed familiar with it.

Macy on the other hand, laughed. “Jeez Harry, our weekly date night isn’t until 8 hours from now.” Harry stared at her, and smiled. “Um, I just missed you.”

“Ok.” she said grinning at him, he was being so weird. “Come on Mags. lets go.” Maggie was still protesting how gross their frenching was when the girls left. Harry needed to check his phone. The date and year looked correct, he looked the same. Then why was Macy suddenly his girlfriend? Harry felt giddy and confused now. And a date later, oh brother.

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Harry was on autopilot the whole day, everything was the same except apparently he and Macy were a couple and he was guessing by his shared calendar they have been dating for 3 and 1/2 months. He needed to figure out though what this date tonight was going to be. He decided to track down Maggie, as she would know everything about it because her and Macy talked relationships almost every day.

“Maggie?” he said as he orbed into her study corner in the library. “Harry!” she whisper yelled. “Oh you scared me? What’s up, is there a demon.”

“No, I need some advice. We can’t talk in here. I’ll buy you a salad.” he hurried.

“Cool. Deal.”

After Maggie got her cranberry walnut feta salad and dug in, Harry decided it was time to play 21 questions, without raising suspicion.

“So what’s up Harry?”

“I, erm, need advice for my date tonight with Macy.” he started with.

“Hm, you don’t really ask me for advice with Macy a lot.”

“Well don’t tell your sister but I’ve been so busy I am blanking on tonight’s date details.”

“Ah yeah, your classes and all.” she tapped her salad bowl while thinking.

“Well Macy said it’s at Algino’s Fine Italian Dining, so make sure you get a table in the back near the fireplace. My friend works there as a hostess, just call and let her know an hour before you get there that Maggie is sending you. Hm, I sound so cool, I have connections.” she mused.

Harry grinned a little, that was easy, he knows when and where, he just doesn’t know what he’s going to talk about, surely if they’ve been dating for 3 1/2 months they know each other pretty well past “what’s your favorite color” questions.

“Hm, is there anything new going on with Macy that she may have told you that I don’t know?” Maggie gave him a quizzical look. “I, erm, mean just because I don’t want the date to be boring, I want to talk to her about something new, maybe something she thought I wouldn’t think about.”

“Uhh, well, there is the fact that she was asked about assisting the forensics force for the police, but she doesn’t know because while she liked Niko she’s not really fond of the police, you know because of police brutality.”

“Understandable.” he nodded.

“Maybe you could give her advice and comfort her about it? I’m pretty sure said she’d bring up to you tonight. Oh shoot.... I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” she slumped.

“No no, it’s fine dear Maggie.” Harry needed something current to know to looked like he knew what was going on.

“Oh and make sure you compliment her tons she mentioned you guys were going to the next step tonight, which is gross to think about but she needs extra reassurance since, you know her first kind broke up with her then died on her soon afterwards.” Maggie mumbled the last bit.

Harry stared wide eyed, if “The next step” meant what he thought it meant.. he was in a lot of trouble. He couldn’t have “next step” comfortably when he doesn’t even know what’s going on.

“Oh my....” he was starting to sweat.

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“Are guys sure this dress is ok?”

“You look AMAZING, Macy, ok? Harry will have to restrain himself from worshipping at your feet tonight.” Maggie squealed.

Mel rolled her eyes. “You look really gorgeous Macy. Harry is very lucky, mostly because I decided to let him date my sister without interrogating him every date night.”

“Thanks Mel, thanks Maggie.” Macy smoothed out her dress nervously again. It was a maroon color bodycon, with a deep v cut neckline, that showed off cleavage and hugged her “bootylicious butt”, as maggie described, and it ended above her knees with a slit on one side. She wore heels to match it and had her hair set in a more wavy curl pattern with her makeup to match too.

She was nervous, tonight she would try to sleep with Harry for the first time, she hadn’t slept with anyone since, well... She wondered if he was nervous too. He admitted after their first date he struggled not to become a clumsy mess.

She smiled at the memory of their first date.

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Harry was nervous, he needed to figure out was was going on, he finished getting ready for his date early just to have time to consult the book of shadows. He had just gotten to the page on siphoning demons and what he thinks might help him when he heard Maggie calling out.

“Harrryyy, your date is coming down to seee youuuu!” He quickly orbed downstairs to await Macy’s descent down the staircase, and gods she was stunning.

If a Siphoning demon was to blame, it was doing a really good job. “Oh my//” he breathed.

“Ready to go?” Macy asked when she made it to the bottom.

“Uh, uh yes, I hope you like dinner tonight.”

“I’m sure I will.”

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So far dinner was fine, for her at least. Harry couldn’t taste anything of his food, he also noticed he didn’t drink or eat all day, in fact he wasn’t even hungry and couldn’t really smell the food at all. He tried to pay attention to Macy though, even if something was wrong he wanted to savor this part at least, he wanted to have this moment. When he figures out what’s going on he doesn’t know if there’s a romantic future for him and Macy.

“So yeah, you know I don’t know on one hand I’d be helping solve crimes and could really help some innocent people stay out of jail, but I don’t want to work with an institution like the american police force, ya know?”

“Yes, Macy love, I completely understand your feelings, I feel the same way and I’ll support you no matter what.”

“Oh Harry!” Macy swooned. “I’m so glad you’re my boyfriend, you never make me feel bad or crazy.”

“Of course, love.” The couple finished up their date and Macy insisted that they talk a walk in the park. He gave her his blazer for the cool night breeze and she held his hand and cuddle up close. She stopped them under a willow tree and turned to face him.

“Harry, I’ve been so happy with you. You take such good care of me and my sisters, you’re such a good role model for Maggie, always there for her when me or Mel can’t be and you even managed to make Mel love you.” she gazed at him.

“I know it sounds corny, but I hope tonight is special for both of us.” Harry was blushing a deep red when Macy closed the gap and kissed him deeply, and that, he could taste and feel. He doesn’t remember how long they stood there kissing, but Macy broke away with bedroom eyes. “Can you orb us to your condo?” he did as she asked and they continued with their heavy make out session. He walked her to the bedroom as they both fumbled with shoes, and clothes.

He was really enjoying every feeling shivering through his body. He hitched her legs and picked her up, holding her up before plopping her on the bed. He followed her down and they were getting so hot, he leaned up to unbutton his shirt and looked down at her and stopped.

“Harry what’s wrong?” Macy asked.

“This isn’t right.” he pulled away.

“What do you mean? I’m not a virgin Harry.”

“No, this is a dream. this is, what’s going on, it’s a dream.”

“Harry I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered.”

“You’re a dream, this is all an induced dream.” He kept talking to himself. “That’s why I didn’t eat, that’s why I couldn’t taste anything at the restaurant, I didn’t have a drop of tea.”

“Harry what the hell are you talking about.” Dream Macy was starting to get aggressive with him and pulled at his body to come back.

“Siphoning Demons don’t eat human food at all, they can recreate everything for a simulation except properly simulate the taste and smell of food, and they forget their target needs to also eat. They forget we have hunger. They give their target their desires and drain the life force from them” He pulled back away. “I’m sorry, I really did enjoy this, but you’re not real.”

“No!” a voice called, he didn’t know if it was from Dream Macy or not, but he needed to wake himself up and recite the only spell he knew he could. “Excitare, attendere, daemonium relinquam meam. Potestatem Ego habeo!”

The world went black and he felt his body regain strength as he stirred awake to a puff of black smoke and a curled up half dead demon on his bed. He jumped away in disgust and shot a light beam at its weakened body as its body turned to ash.

Later in the morning he was at the girl’s home making breakfast as requested by Maggie, happy everything was normal but he felt a bit sad when Macy walked in and didn’t run to him to give him a good morning kiss.

“You ok Har?” Macy stayed behind after breakfast because she noticed her whitelighter kept looking at her with a sad and awkward expression.

“I’m- I’ll be fine. I’m just tired, I had a very odd dream.” he confessed.

“I feel you, I had a dream I went on a date with some mystery guy last night and he vanquished some dream eating demon. Hm maybe dream guy was a witch.” she laughed.

Harry stared.

“Don’t be jealous Harry, you know I only want to kick demon ass with you. You’re my real life hero.” she winked at him and left for work.

Harry decided he was going to go for the real thing, then and there. Dream Demons be damned.

#hacy #harry greenwood #macy vaughn

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annaisu · 6 years ago

Text

Fractured Sparrow; Chapter 1

Words: 3,081

Summary: An auspicious start to a day in the life of two homeless orphans.

Prologue

The air was cold as usual, but with my sister beside me, there was always some warmth in the world. That being said, the actual fire I was huddling by was quite nice, and I was grateful that Rose and I had gathered enough fuel for several days. It wasn't snowing at the moment, but there were plenty of grey clouds hanging heavy overhead, so that could change at any moment. A slim beam of sunlight slit through the clouds, widening overhead, shedding light into the empty day – and then I felt it.

Splat

What was that? It couldn't be snow, it was too heavy and there was only one dropping – no! I looked up just in time to see some kind of small bird darting away, showing its tail-feathers to me as it left. That was bird poop in my hair.

"Eurgh!" I cried out as I automatically reached up to try and get the crud out. I paid my protesting throat no mind as I scrubbed my hand through my admittedly already dirty hair, trying to get at least the worst of it off. This was nasty! It was hard enough to keep clean in the streets as it was, I didn't need crap in my hair to cap it off!

My sister, alerted by my cries, looked over. "What was that?" I didn't bother trying to answer her, just frantically continued scrubbing at my hair. Gross, gross, gross! It was hard enough to keep clean when living in slum as two homeless kids, I didn't need the help of bird poop! "Oh, yuck!" It seemed like Rose didn't need my help to figure out what was going on, judging by her disgusted exclamation.

Grimacing, I wiped my hands on my slightly less filthy pants, debating whether I wanted dirty gloves or cold-and-wet-but-slightly-less-dirty gloves. With an inaudible sigh, I decided not to risk losing my fingers and gave up getting cleaner as a pipe dream. Instead, I turned back to the fire, and tried to focus on anything other than the mess in my hair. I'd been dirty before, but this was admittedly a new low for me.

"Well... I hear that's lucky, like a four leaf clover." I looked over at Rose, who was trying to stifle a smile at my misfortune. "Although I think I'd prefer the clover!" Her face gave way to a grin, and I ended up smiling back at her. She looked beautiful with a smile on her face, despite her posture huddled against the wind and her threadbare clothes hanging loosely on her frame. We'd come up with a way to tie them tighter so that they wouldn't fall off, but there was no accounting for the missing fabric that left her midriff exposed.

She turned back to the fire, still with that smile on her face, and I found that I didn't mind the poop in my hair anymore – lucky or not. My sister didn't really have much reason to smile, what with our crappy living situation. We were constantly cold and hungry, and we lived in a broken shed surrounded by snow. The Bowerstone Slums, where we lived, had plenty of good folk – but it also was the home of a bunch of riff-raff and scoundrels. We were pretty far from the good life, even though we could picture it just fine in our dreams.

"Look, little Sparrow..." Rose began to speak, and I could already tell what she wanted me to look at from the wistful tone in her voice. I looked up and, yup, she was looking out across the balcony to the giant castle standing tall and proud amidst the grey surroundings. “Castle Fairfax looks so nice in the snow.” Faint hints of snowflakes were starting to fall through the air, lending the castle a shimmering light. The sunrise painted a golden rose glow upon the scene, and it looked as fantastical as any dream.

It was easy to see why my sister was so entranced, but I had never shared the same feelings for the grand building. It seems that for as long as I've known it's name, I haven't liked it one bit. I’d even had nightmares about being inside the building, blurry images of shadowy lights and the sound of my sister screaming haunting my sleep. I tried to speak up and tell Rose about them once, but it looked like it hurt her as much to hear it as it did for me to say it. I never tried again after that, and just let her fantasize whatever she wanted.

"Imagine the grand dining hall," Rose sighed, and I imagined that she was halfway into dreamland rather than reality. I guess her visions were a lot more enjoyable than mine were - for the castle, at least. I had entertained some pretty delightful imaginings of my own often enough to know that my imagination rivaled even my sisters. "I bet Lord Lucien's having roast duck this time of year!" Does duck taste like chicken? Duck was the rich form of chicken, right? ...I'd like some good meat to eat right about now, duck or otherwise.

Rose had moved right on past the food and to the more sympathetic aspect of it – my sister really was incredibly thoughtful. "But he must be really lonely since his wife and little girl died. In that big castle, all by himself..." I couldn't help but imagine it as well – what if his wife and daughter were like two Roses, and he lost them both? And he'd have to walk around in giant, echoing halls, knowing that they'll never be around the next corner, that he'd have to take all of his meals alone, that he could never have hugs or goodnight kisses or quiet moments of happiness with them...

Rose finished up her dream with a sigh. "If only we could live there..." I knew what she was thinking, about being warm and full, of maybe even filling the spaces of loss left behind – on both sides of the family. Our parents had died almost two years ago, now. Rose told me there had been some sort of attack, since I couldn't remember myself.

I... honestly didn't remember anything of my life before we made it to the streets. I don't know if something bad happened, or if I hit my head, or what, but Rose wouldn't tell me. She was willing to tell me stories of our parents, retell the stories they once told her, explain the little adventures we had running around our little village… But she would never tell me about how we lost it all, from my voice to the rest of our family.

Apparently, I used to talk a lot back then. “Chattered away like a proper little Sparrow,” Rose had joked. I could theoretically still talk, but I just knew that I needed to keep my mouth shut or something bad would happen. I was afraid to ask, but I think it was something I said that got our parents killed. I had spoken too much, made too much noise about something, and -

A roar arose from nearby. Rose and I startled, looking over to try and find the cause of the ruckus. We couldn't see anything, but it sounded like fireworks or sparklers were going off! "What is going on over there?" Rose asked, straightening from her position by the fire. "Come with me, little brother!" Trusting me to follow her, she headed off for the source of the commotion.

Doggedly following in her footsteps, I was right beside her when the local creep showed up. "Hello there, young Rose." I crossed my arms over my chest as Rose braced herself. "You look hungry!" At that moment, my stomach decided to contribute by giving a weak little gurgle, but I refused to lessen my defensive posture or acknowledge the unintentional show of weakness. "Have you reconsidered my offer?" I scowled up at the dark clothed man, as always aware of what felt like a grimy aura around him.

Rose refused to tell me what his offer was, but I knew it couldn't be anything good if she turned him down time after time, even when we hadn't managed food several days in a row. Judging by his criminal activities around town and the feeling I got from him, as well as his persistent interest in my sister... well. I thought his offer might be more carnal and personal in nature, and I'd do my best to stop him before he could ever lay a hand on my sister!

"We'll never be that hungry. The answer is 'no'." Rose stated firmly, and I backed her up as best as I could. Admittedly, that wasn't much, but I was ready to fight if Arfur pressed the issue.

Thankfully, the putrid man didn't press farther today. "You'll be back. And I'll be waiting for ya." He slunk back off to the shadows, and I growled low in my throat as Rose firmly turned away.

"Come on, little Sparrow, let's see what's going on." I stayed a careful step behind her, watching as Arfur disappeared out of sight. "That filthy creep... I hate him." I had half a mind to hunt him back down for everything he'd ever done to my sister, but Rose and I had just reached the extremely noisy crowd.

The street opened up into a brightly-lit courtyard, no buildings crowding out the grey sky above. Rose and I stayed to the side, partially covered by the mouth of the street. We would avoid some of the snow falling, and be ready to dash away if things went south. I ended up standing between my sister and a woman in a red robe, who felt oddly familiar.

I studied the stranger rather than whatever the crowd was looking at, trying to figure out why it felt that I should know her. She was facing towards the center of attention, so I could only see her face in profile, but it was enough to see the milky film covering her eyes. She was at least half blind, yet she still stood with such confidence and poise. Her scarlet robes draped around her neatly, hood pulled up to protect her from the snow. I couldn't remember seeing her on these streets before, but she still seemed like someone I should know. Was she from Before, when Rose and I still had parents and before I lost my memories?

A gasp from the crowd startled me into looking away from the familiar stranger and up at the centerpiece, where a blast of flame went bursting into the air! Steam was puffing out of a strange trader's cart, but it was hard to see more than that with the crowd between it and where we stood. "Come one, come all!" a foreign voice cried out.

"Oh, it's just a trader," Rose said in disappointment. It was nice to see new things happening in this dreary place, but we couldn't exactly buy anything. Rose and I were lucky if we had enough money for food – we couldn't afford any exotic goods that a trader would bring. Still, it was fun to see whatever they had to offer, if we ignored the fact that we would never be able to own anything like it… or if we could even see it at all through the crowd. Even though Rose was taller than me, it seemed like she couldn't see either. "I can't see anything past this lot!" she muttered, but neither of us left.

What else was there to go back to? We may as well spend time watching the show, and it was warmer here by the press of bodies than it was at our cold outcropping. The hordes of people surrounding us made me feel uncomfortable and nervous despite the welcome heat they gave off, but as long as we stood at the edge of the crushing press of humanity, I would be fine.

"A-ladies and a-gentleman," the trader started up. "I have traveled the land accumulating wondrous and mysterious objects - which I now offer to you for the modest price of five gold!" I squinted and peered around the guy in front of me, trying to get a glimpse of what was up for sale. It couldn't be anything actually good, for only five gold! Sure, that was more than Rose or I usually saw, but that was still pretty cheap! There was some sort of standing mirror, and vases on shelves, but I couldn't really pick anything else out.

No… there was something else, on the other side of the cart. I couldn't see it very clearly but it was some kind of box or something, and it felt… important. Powerful. Momentous. I shivered, dread and excitement running down my spine.

"Consider this!" The traders voice pulled my attention back to what was before me, and I caught a glimpse of him gesturing at the mirror before the crowd shifted. "This is twuly a magical miwwor. For as long as you look into it, it will make you beautiful!" I covered my eyes in disbelief. For some reason – completely random, I was sure – I doubted that the mirror would work.

"I'll take it!" someone cried out. Well, clearly they had far more faith in that mirror and its magic than I did.

"Vewy wise!" The trader agreed. "Now remember: the magic only works in complete dawkness," he lowered his voice mysteriously. Rose and I let out simultaneous groans, and someone else chuckled under their breath. Ah. That would be the trick to it, then.

The trader – Mungo, judging by the name on his cart – shifted his attention to something else on display. I caught a moment of hesitation before he continued, with less showmanship than before. "Ah, now this is truly a mwavel." He was pointing at the box now, and I felt my breath catch tight in my chest. "This small, unassuming box is actually a device created by the ancients. As used by the Old Kingdom rulers themselves!" For some reason, I could believe him now, where before I had only felt disbelief. "Turn the handle three times, and you shall be granted a single wish!" Why was it I could believe something so fantastical could be true, when I had so easily dismissed the mirror?

Rose didn't seem to quite feel the same. "There's no such thing as magic!" Even then, I still caught her stealing glances at the little music box through the crowd. Could she feel it too?

"We live in grim times indeed, if the young are too world-weary to believe in magic." I looked sharply to my left, shivers starting up again, as the stranger spoke. Theresa, the quiet part of my mind whispered to me. She was facing us now, clouded white eyes staring unnervingly at my sister. There was no way she could see, but Rose was trapped within her empty gaze, subject of her direct attention. "Most children your age believe eagerly."

Rose, never one to be intimidated or back down, stared straight back at her. "Look, I can see your eyes are bad, but I'm telling you – that music box is rubbish." Theresa didn't seem to be offended by my sister's bluntness – rather, she smiled.

"That’s what the seller thinks. He has no idea what he stumbled upon. But you have an inkling, don’t you?" She could feel the power behind it too, couldn't she? And could Rose? My sister wasn't normally so dismissive out of hand – was she trying to deny the draw she felt? "Some part of you wants to believe it’s magic."

Her piece said, Theresa turned and began slowly walking away. Rose took a half step after her, calling out in hushed tones. "What? You…" she faltered, "you really think it could be?" Rose's voice was hushed but hopeful.

Theresa stopped, but didn't turn around. "For five gold coins, you could have your answer."

Rose scoffed. "For five gold coins, we could eat for a week." Rose was a dreamer, but she was practical – life forced her to set aside her dreams for a harsh reality. Yet this time, I didn't think the pull of responsibility would be able to stop the hope of fantastical possibilities.

"Listen to me, Rose: at the end of the week, you and your little Sparrow would be no closer to your dream -- no closer to the inside of that beautiful castle." How could a stranger know these things? Even if she had the same inexplicable knowledge for the names of whoever talked to her like I did, how could she possibly know about Rose's dream? Had she been listening to us earlier?

"Wait!" Rose called out. "Do… do we know you?" Did Rose remember her from Before after all?

This time, Theresa did turn back. "I met you both when your brother was but a toddler, constantly chattering away. Even then, I knew there would be great things ahead for you." Terrible, yes, but great, I quoted quietly to myself, not sure where the words came from. We must have met her back when our parents were still alive, then, if I had actually been talking. "And perhaps we shall meet again once more, young Rose, if the wishes of fate will it."

A feeling of foreboding washed over me as Theresa walked away, even stronger than before. This time, Rose did not call out after her, simply watched her disappear. Once she was gone, Rose turned to face me. "Do you think it could be true? What if it is real?" I nodded slowly, unsure of much, but at least I was pretty sure that there was something special about that music box. "I bet we could get five gold pieces… and maybe this could be a way out of here, after all."

My sister smiled down at me, decided. "What is there to lose, little Sparrow?"

My smile froze and died as she began to walk away, and I knew the answer. I knew the reason behind the foreboding, behind the unnamable fear I could feel in my soul. We had no money, no food, no safe place to stay for the winter, no family or security or warmth – but we had each other. That's what we could lose.

#my stories #fractured sparrow #surprise update!#humor #rose #my writing #my stuff

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exolstice-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Fall | Chanyeol

Genre: someFluff ; Angst

Description: “Chanyeol had this utmost capability for burning your throat like spiked oxygen, and setting you off into a frenzied symphony that made you want to dance to no music and laugh to no joke and burn to no fire—"

Featuring: Kim Jongin, I'm Yoon-ah

Warning: Age gap (7 yrs), sexual themes, angsty overall; please do not read if you feel uncomfortable with any of these.

Word Count: 5000

Author’s Note: FINALLY. I DID IT. Very angsty, very emo, I cri, I hope u like 💕 and e n j o y.

“I do,” overgrown weeds tickled at your feet, so itchy your toes curled up like cashew nuts. The lace trim of the dress was annoyingly excessive–and orange, yuck–giving you a sour face.

“I do,” Chanyeol kept tugging at his tie, and there was only so much you could do to keep yourself from jumping up and swatting away his hand.

“Great, now,”–a deep inhale– “KISS. THE. BRIDE.”

“HEY. That wasn’t part of the deal,” Chanyeol dropped both hands, making the white strings that held his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle tie snap back against his neck violently, making him choke down to his knees.

“Yoo,” you narrowed your eyes at her face, cheeks smushed between her hands expectantly. You let your head fall backwards in a groan, your neck almost snapping, with the slip of the few flowers you had gotten into a fake bouquet. You weren’t going to just go about the procedure for the third time in a row because Chanyeol couldn’t get his lines right, or because Yoona couldn’t stop her squeaks, and now because he had to give you a freaking kiss (which—gross). You had people to see, and places to be, and a very furious Mr. Jun to meet for cake and tea.

“But it’s your wedding,” she made a terrible sound that made you cover your ears. You wanted to throw mud at her face.

“Yes, then, we’re over. Chanyeol and I are married, can we go inside now?” You pointed exasperated at your haven, where the party continued, where Mr. Jun should be waiting, and where you knew the location of the jam jars–the Park’s house. She screamed, trashing around in the pretty ribbons of her sleeves. You screamed too, “This is my wedding. This is my wedding. If you want a kiss then be the bride.”

Yoona’s screams worsened, “I can’t kiss him–HE’S MY BROTHER.”

You covered your ears with your hands, shaking your head fervently, “Me too–HE’S A BOY.”

The both of you screamed, because, God forbid, Chanyeol was a boy. “AYAAAAAAHHHH."

“SHUSH UP!” Chanyeol stood tall, plugging his fingers in his big, big, big ears. Yoona and you started, grabbed each other by the arm, and fell backwards. “Can we finish this, please? My friends have to be looking for me, oh God, I hope they didn’t hear you.”

Yoona huffed, and you stood up, shaking leaves and dirt and flowers off your lap, “My friends are waiting too, Mr. Jun–”

“He’s coming?” Yoona was starry-eyed, puffing her cheeks up in a smile.

“Father’s bringing him,” you showed her all your teeth, taking her hand.

“Talk about the rabbit later, let’s finish getting married,” Chanyeol took your hands from Yoona’s, almost lifting them up because he was so tall.

“This is stupid,” you muttered, and both their eyes widened, because if Ma’am caught you cursing they knew she would tell your mother, and you’d be done for. “Why do we have to get married just because Yoona says so?”

Chanyeol picked up one of the dirtiest flowers from the ground, placing it behind your ear, and you made a face. “Because that would keep her quiet.” He whispered it, so that she wouldn’t hear. But there wasn’t a need because he was too close to you and too far from her. He kissed your forehead, grinning, “Happy Birthday.”

You gave him a funny smile in between Yoona’s screams, “Happy Birthday.”

Chanyeol and you didn’t share a birthday, not really. In fact, you two weren’t even as close to sharing a birth-date. He was sometimes eight years older than you and other times seven. Funny, wasn’t it?

Chanyeol’s parents worked for yours in a big company back then you couldn’t even pronounce the name of. All you did understand was that they were a very important part of it–an asset, you’d heard Ma’am calling them. ‘Ma’am’ was Chanyeol’s and Yoona’s mother, and ‘Sir’ was their father, that’s the first thing you’d learned. You would have liked to call them something else, something like Aunt and Uncle, although they were nothing but. But your parents insisted otherwise, fervently.

Anyway, the name stuck. You called them by that still, if not by their full names. It ought’ve to be something scandalous for any other teenager, to address people older than them without due respect–and by their name, even! It wasn’t the case for the heir of a company, the girl—the student—that would become absolute top dog once she turned the right age.

That didn’t stop them from being actual sweethearts with you from the moment they met you, up until the moment you realized you’d be their future boss, and beyond. The Park’s relationship with your parents began long before you were born, and that’s why you spent more of your childhood at their household than at yours. Exactly the reason why Chanyeol and you celebrated both your birthdays on the same day.

Your birthdays did share something in common, in truth. That one-month gap that made him seven or eight years older than you. It was at your four years old when both of your parents decided to celebrate your birthday together, on a separate date, and at your fives when Chanyeol accepted it. Maybe because he’d taken pity on yours and Yoona’s crying faces when you wished to become older too–when you dreaded the month in which he was eight years older and bossed you around (and Yoona, of course) to do his chores for him.

You had always wanted to be older, grow taller; perhaps because since so much was expected from you since birth you now realized you could’ve only had it in your veins to want to be over with it. Or perhaps it was just a mere thing of yours, a personal goal. And so, Chanyeol let you be just seven years younger than him that day you turned six and he thirteen, and a bunch more years to come.

Just a bunch. Not all. It stopped–your little fun and tease filled parties–when he left for college and found his own apartment; started on his life. And when you did the same.

Business became tighter for you when you truly began taking on your parents’ steps. Age: thirteen. Your own tiny tea gatherings (more like afternoons padded with quirky questionable music and terrible dancing) with Mr. Jun and Yoona at the Park’s becoming promptly replaced by business meetings with people thrice your age that, if you got lucky and well behaved, would offer you a peppermint.

You grew up faster, matured quickly, just how your parents and their business partners—and now your business partners—had wished. Just how you'd wished. Of course, there was still always that month. That dreaded month that made you feel like a locked-up thing, a manacled creature that was still eight years younger, eight years more ignorant.

It never really bothered you, not as long as Chanyeol kept his mouth shut and didn't tell you to do things that Yoona would normally do when he visited. To get him a beer, to fetch the remote, to purposely lose to him on games. Like you were his tiny pet.

But there was a day when you felt bothered. You felt itchy and hot and truly bothered. You two didn't share your birthdays anymore, no, but that wouldn't stop him from coming over for yours, alright.

You found it sweet. And annoying. He was Park Chanyeol, your best friend's big brother, your big best friend—if that meant anything at all—he wouldn't wait a tenth of a bloody second to poke at you about your age. Most particularly: at him being eight years older still.

So, it surprised you, of course, when he didn't mock you on the day of your fifteenth birthday. Well, what could’ve been done when he was clearly well accompanied.

It was what brought that kid-ish memory first to your mind. Because when he took her hand and helped her with that heavy bowling ball, all you could think about was your sham marriage with Chanyeol—he's mine, mine, mine! —and him saying "let's finish getting married" in that stupid fake tie.

Yes, you were bothered, especially when Jongin asked you if you were alright because you had to lie and bite down a barf that threatened to slip down your throat. Yoona was an angel, bringing you to the ladies' room towards the back of the bowling alley that was her brother’s favorite.

You stared at the mirror and saw a child that had been made to grow up way too fast, and was disgusted. You had to remind yourself that you were really but turning fifteen—and that you just didn't know how to feel after not seeing him for too long. Right, and the lights were far too dim and were the ones giving you that headache.

You ran a hand through your hair, furious because it wasn't the first time. Not the first time you'd imagined tripping one of his lady friends and generously helping them up by the hair with sharp nails. Stupid. But you laughed. And what you saw in the mirror was a fifteen-year-old truly laughing. Maybe you could stop your little fucking pretense about being any more tough—any more mature than you were. Maybe you could be the hormonal stupid kid that you were supposed to be instead.

Yes. Chanyeol was hot. There. And he was eight years older than you. There. Nothing wrong about that, really. It was, like, yes, G-Dragon. The man was fucking older than Chanyeol and you still found him incredibly yummy. But not ever more than that. Just like Chanyeol! He was sweet, he was gentle, he was devastatingly handsome—but that's just all there was to him. To him and to what you felt. Right?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you slapped your face with water, pressing at your shut eyes until you saw weird things, until it stung enough you could almost only feel that.

This sucked. This was gross. This was childish. And you weren't a child—at least, you weren't supposed to be one.

Static-like particles cleared from your vision and you saw a child. A stupid, stupid child. Maybe it wasn't so wrong. Maybe, for a day, you could be a child, grow up the right way, learn from heartbreak, from your big best friend that was fucking older than you and that made you feel disgustingly maniacal. Maybe you could allow yourself to fuck up for a day.

Maybe one only ever truly majorly fucked up when one was fifteen.

At least that must be the reason why you chose to bring him into your bed that night.

"Ah," you jumped a little now, when the door suddenly opened and a gigantic shadow entirely covered your form. Dim light illuminated what bit you could see of the house. You stepped inside, almost shooing him away. "Yoona's supposed to meet me at eight, but she told me to come over—is she here?"

Chanyeol closed the door, worrying at his lip—annoyed, you guessed, "Good night to you too."

You hummed, "I thought you'd leave by Tuesday."

He made a chuckling noise, "Wanted me gone too soon?"

You sat on the edge of the couch, picking up an almost empty can of a drink, possibly alcoholic, "You've made yourself at home, I see."

He chuckled again, "It is my home."

You looked at him, and smiled. You smelled the contents of the can and, ah, yes, beer. "You're not finishing this, are you?"

He gave you a look but did not approach you, the chuckles all gone, but he mocked you still. "Aren't you like sixteen?"

You gave him your thinnest smile in dark velvet lips, "Going onto eighteen, actually."

"Technically, you can't drink yet."

"Technically, we're going clubbing—so might as well give it a head start," you tilted your head, downing the last small sip of the drink in one go and heaving out a deep sigh. You licked a rebellious drop off your mouth and quirked a brow when Chanyeol abruptly groaned and turned around.

"I sure hope Yoona's not drinking," he didn't look at you when he pulled a new beer from the fridge and cracked it open. You bit your lip, surely blushing, just realizing he'd probably been drinking those last gulps of a can.

"Can't promise anything," Chanyeol looked at you in a way that made you shiver—with cold brown eyes almost hidden behind his disheveled black bangs—in the way that left you breathless and could make you fall. Shit. You smiled, deciding to challenge him, "Come on, she's old enough to have fun. Make mistakes. Fall in love," you shook your head, grinning, "Screw some guys."

His face made you grin, "She's only seventeen, and so are you—"

"Eighteen," you hissed. You were almost there, alright, God. You swallowed the blasphemies you could've spat at him, crossing your legs in a ladylike manner with a smile, "And, besides, weren't you seventeen the day you came crying because you thought you'd left your girlfriend pregnant?"

Again, his face managed to make you laugh—and you almost hated it. You shook your head, "You can quit being this 'responsible' big brother for a day, Chan. Let her live her life. Didn't you tell me that too?" And he did. He told you to live if just a piece of your life. Back almost two years ago, when you were sixteen and probably had been to more business appointments than high school parties.

But he denied it now, "I don't want you making the same mistakes I did. Neither Yoona or you."

Well. "What makes you think I haven't already?"

He gave you this look—this pity-look that made you want to smack his face because you were sure all he saw was a stupid child in you. A kid that believed a mistake was kissing the wrong guy under a mistletoe, buying the wrong color for nail polish... But it made you smile in a sickening way knowing that he didn't know—he couldn't even grasp your worst mistake.

"You two are not fighting, are you?" Yoona's steps came too sudden, bringing you back by the neck and forcing you up. "Gosh, you look stunning!"

You let Yoona tackle you in a hug that was all giddy from side to side, making you laugh. "Haven't washed my hair in the past three days, and this is literally just a button up, so that's a compliment," you pulled away, squishing her cheeks until her mouth was a pout and a few of her glittery freckles stained your fingers. You swiped her head from right to left, "So pretty, so pretty."

"Yes, yes, very pretty, both of you," Chanyeol gave you two a look. "Just keep that prettiness away from guys."

Yoona scrunched up her nose, through a pout, "But Jongin—"

"Specially Jongin." You grinned, knowing how very infatuated Yoona was with Jongin and how very truly against it her brother was. Chanyeol did know Jongin better than anyone, after all.

"Oh, come on!" Yoona flailed her arms around like a tiny octopus in a frenzy.

You clicked your tongue, "Then what's the point if we don't get to get laid."

Yoona laughed out loud, clapping her hands in a manner quite similar to Chanyeol. She knew how you rolled, your admittedly distasteful jokes, so she just went along, the pretty doll, "Right. You're not going to let that go to waste."

Yoona checked you out with a wink and you grinned. But only until you felt Chanyeol scan your shape, as if he could touch you with his eyes—then you could scarcely take a breath. You felt very conscious. And that wasn't entirely bad.

You were a bit flustered about wearing your white button up—your “meeting-to-go”—but you were happy that you'd paired it up with a black see-through-fishnet-like top and a leather skirt. A fit for you, somehow. The blend between classy and foxy and 'I own the goddamn world'. You were proud, alright, and maybe that's what made you feel like you were bigger than yourself. Sometimes even bigger than anyone else.

So, you were happy that Chanyeol was looking at you, at least, because you could sense that feeling of being massive and absolute and beautiful—even as you dreaded the hitch of your breath when he did so.

You felt yourself grow bolder, "Precisely." You offered Chanyeol a wink when he finally decided to stop staring at your legs and grinned as he heaved a breath, "I’m on the pill too, so worry not about my sexual encounters, dear," you tilted your head so innocent, letting your hair all drop to the side, exposing your neck, "Unless you're up for lending me some condoms, then be my damn guest."

Yoona was laughing all along. She'd always found your antics amusing and that couldn't make you any happier. She inhaled a sharp breath, however, once she caught Chanyeol's look towards you both. Particularly when he pointed at you and gestured you to follow him as he took off towards the hallway without further notice.

"Oh, you're in trouble," you shrugged, walking past Yoona with a grin. You heard her yell, "Don't take too long, he must be waiting for us!"

You giggled at her evident eagerness and total adorableness. Until a hand caught your arm. You faced Chanyeol with that same grin, relishing in the way his eyebrows were virtually glued together in a funny frown. You giggled, standing almost on your tip toes to poke at his forehead, "You're angry." It couldn't be helped, Yoona made a child out of you sometimes.

Chanyeol grabbed your wrist, forcefully, "What the hell was that?"

You watched as the pad of his fingers dug into your skin, angry but delicate enough to not hurt you, "It was a joke, Chanyeol, a joke. Ever heard of them?" You pulled your hand back with a hiss, and he seemed astonished, as if he'd just realize what he was doing.

"I'm sorry." Then, "But what the hell. Don't joke like that, not in front of my sister."

Oh my God. "Are you being serious? We're not six anymore, we're not kids that get scared about getting caught saying the word 'stupid' or 'bull crap'. I think I can joke about my morals, or rather, my lack of thereof, any bloody weekday if I want."

Chanyeol was shaking his head, "It's not only that. It's the drinking, the partying, the seeing boys," his jaw was set and you needed to stop thinking about how handsome he looked while doing that, shit. "It's not something... appropriate."

"Then tell her that, holy shit," you waved your arms around, as if he were the child and you were the adult. "Look, honestly, I'm not listening to this. Mostly because I think I'd have the right to do whatever the heck I want. These parties, these jokes, these 'seeing boys'," you actually laughed, "Chan, I'm just doing what you told me. I'm living life."

He knew what you meant by that, he knew almost more than anyone. He was the one who told you—that night in his room, you remembered, when his hand covered yours over the strings of his guitar, teaching you how to play—no, he ordered you to be happy. To do, for once, what you wanted, not what you were meant to do. Although, if you'd done what you honestly wanted to do, up to this point, you would've truly, undoubtedly, terribly fucked up.

You would've let yourself give in to the arresting and absolute starlight that was Park Chanyeol—let yourself fall before he could even catch you. Before you could even catch yourself.

He dismissed the latter, "I know Yoona, I know she wouldn't do anything—"

"I would do?"

"No, no, I wasn't going to... What I mean is," he was frowning now, worrying at his lip, biting the insides of his cheek and shifting his weight from one foot to another—things he would normally do when he was flustered, confused. You hated that you knew every little thing that made Chanyeol Chanyeol. "I—I'm worried. About you, I mean. I don't want to be responsible for—"

"Anything I do?" So that was it? He wanted nothing to do with your childish fuckery? You laughed, holding in so much, "Why, you could've just said that! I won't hold anything against you if I'd were to, say, majorly fuck up."

That wasn't exactly true. Your "fucking up", you felt, was also partly his fault. While your devastatingly big slip up at fifteen wasn't exactly because of Chanyeol—it just was. You wanted to blame him, make him all accountable. But simply because you were tired sick of having to bear its entirety, and because you were selfish and scared. And it disgusted you, exceedingly, because you felt like a coward and because you were one. A girl playing pretense on high heels and button ups that couldn't own up to her mistakes and blamed it all on others.

Now you were enraged, "Chanyeol, I'm not a kid, okay?" See me as a woman. You shook your head, almost convulsively. "You have to understand that."

He laughed, dryly and even sinister, "But you are! Look at the way you're acting—the way you behave, the way you deal with things—"

"You don't know how I 'deal with things'," you quoted in the air, making a face that possibly looked like a grimace. "And, certainly, you wouldn't know how I behave, you've barely been around the past two years."

"Oh, well, pardon me for getting my life straight, Miss 'I've changed in the last two years'."

You despised it. Despised that he made fun of you, that he pulled it all off with a grin, and that he looked very attractive while doing so. You breathed, "Chanyeol." That seemed to shut him up—either your voice, or your look. At least he was quiet while you had the courage to tell him more than you had the past year or so.

And the courage to let him know you weren't having any more of his bullshit, "I basically manage a company now with my parents. I am in a place men twice my age virtually crawl to get to, and I got here when I was thirteen." You laughed, though obviously forced, "I think I'd know more about 'getting my life straight' than you ever would."

You were sure that stung him. And while you were usually pretty good with words, often you felt you couldn't hide anything from him at all. Not even if it hurt. Of course, there was this one thing, this one exception, but still.

He wasn't used to keep any harsh words from you either, anyway, "I think it shows just how childish you are that you have to rub off your position in my nose to prove that you've matured somehow."

Alright, if there was ever any time you'd wanted to smack Chanyeol more than now you'd had to be delusional. He was right and you knew it. And he knew it too.

He grinned, "I'm right, aren't I?"

You almost reached a hand back to slap him—he closed his eyes, too—but opted against it. Instead, you softened, you were delirious. Because, shit, Chanyeol had that effect on people.

You brought your fingers down against his black hair, brushing wild strands back from his eyes. These snapped open, and you guessed he asked 'what are you doing?', but there was only this sharp intake of breath against the skin of your wrist.

Your breaths were shallow and in the back of your throat and you wondered how was it that you had the courage to do it—to touch his hair, to stand this close to him without tripping and falling in an attempt at bringing yourself back to reality because this wasn't real. Of course, it wasn't.

You let your hand drop, almost as if his hair had stung you, and allowed yourself to fall forward. He didn't exactly catch you, he didn't need to, he was just there. You stood with your forehead against his chest and mused at how wonderful it felt to hear his heartbeat this close to your ear. Quick and pounding.

You chuckled. Because even if Chanyeol had this utmost capability for burning your throat like spiked oxygen, and setting you off into a frenzied symphony that made you want to dance to no music and laugh to no joke and burn to no fire—even if you were completely out of your fucking mind and driven to a scape of oddness and hellish fever, he was there with you still, all tangible, and hot, and living, and there, there, there.

He didn't say a word when his hand came to rest on your head and then follow the trail of your hair. Chanyeol was trying to make you feel better, he was trying to comfort you. He meant better, you knew, but you couldn't help feeling more weak and small and vulnerable. And you despised and loved every second of it.

"(Y/N)," your name felt so intimate when he said it, like a secret you'd told him and no other. It made you raise your hands to his sides, to ball the fabric of his sweatshirt in your palms so as to prevent you from doing something any more stupid. "Everything I said—maybe I could've said it differently, maybe..." he chuckled, God, so close, "Maybe I was the one behaving like a child. I knew it annoyed you, so I kept pressing, I'm sorry. But."

You thought he would stop then, but he swallowed, and hooked a strand of hair between his fingers and behind your ear, "But I'm scared, and it feels really shitty. I—Yoona is my sister, so I can tell her what to do—what not to do. But you. You are...someone different. Someone that grew up too soon. Someone that had to be told to be happy because you wouldn't do it on your own. I..."

You felt like he expected you to look at him in the eyes while he said so, but you couldn't bring yourself to let him draw you more. You wouldn't, and he continued, "I can't find a way to take care of you, and it's scary, hell. I... I know you don't need me for that now, you never needed me for that, anyway, and yet there I was, like a nuisance." He laughed a little, and it made you close your eyes, the way you could feel it. "What I mean is, I want you to be careful, alright? To take care of yourself. And what I mean by that—shit, how do I even... There are some things you can never get back, so—"

Was he—was he giving you some kind of sex talk? You laughed, truly astonished. "You really think I haven't had sex before?" He stiffened.

You couldn't believe it—couldn't believe he still saw this little girl-friend he felt entitled to take care of, like he had any right to treat you like something of his property. You were bloody livid.

His 'what?' of incomprehension made it all far worse.

"You truly are dense."

And he was, because he didn't notice you changing ever since you turned fifteen. He didn't see your smile faltering with things that before would've made you laugh. He overlooked the details that were there to anyone but him—your sudden haircut, your change in wardrobe, your slimming body; the toll of a job that had come far too early for you and would have for any other.

He dismissed your appearing less at his home. And while he did have the chance to question it, it didn't go beyond a rushed guitar lesson in which he felt the greatest shit of all, giving those bull crap suggestions about "following your dreams" and "finding true happiness".

But most importantly, he missed you looking at him like his eyes held the stars and everything luminous. He missed you blushing savagely whenever he brushed your hair behind your ear. He missed you giving this looks to the girls that visited him, this looks to their hands while they were held by his. He missed you remembering your wedding in that bowling alley and letting your eyes chant mine, mine, mine when even Jongin noticed and he didn't.

He missed you falling in love with him, and he missed catching you.

He also missed the way you caught yourself before sinking in too deep.

You pulled back, not quite expecting to feel relieved but being rewarded when you did. But there couldn't possibly be any bigger reward than fixing Chanyeol with a look of grandeur and absolutism as you said the words you'd meant to spew every time you tripped and almost fell.

"Fuck you, Park Chanyeol."

You turned to leave, not smiling, making sure he didn’t miss it. Let Chanyeol see the way he made the sole bloody thought of breathing a complete impossibility. How he made breaking away from him a deeper cut that was infectious and that stung and that when sealed only but brought him deeper. Allow him to take a look at what a good fucking liar you were for making your stumbles go unnoticed. For making a hoax out of yourself, making believe you were grander than what you actually were. A girl that flipped him off because she was too scared to say ‘I like you’ and then immediately ‘get out’ because everything was ever so entirely full of him. Because she could only hope he didn’t miss the way her eyes said that she’d fallen and couldn’t feel her breath.

#exo #exo scenarios #exo imagine #exo fluff #exo angst #exo au #exo chanyeol #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol angst #park chanyeol #exo jongin #yoona #kpop

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kingfckr · 7 years ago

Note

everything about Karen and Billy screams pedophilia , js !

Hello Anon !

As you didn’t come into my IMs last night to discuss it, I’ll be replying via this Ask as promised. The main reason for the IMs because then it can be a two sided discussion as well as it doesn’t sound like i’m lecturing or being rude ( and I can answer your questions as I go instead of going okay what are the questions being asked from this ask that is just a big statement). because now I’ve got to write pretty much an essay on this statement and you either will continue to be offended by the content and only write back via anon or simply go away without the discussion being had or being notified to read it. I’m not upset by this observation you have at all, because I don’t know your background or who you are or your age and you might not be looking at it the way I am. I want to take this seriously, and actually give you an explanation as to my perspective on the relationship as well as why it’s being written on this blog before anyone grabs the pitchforks and torches or anyone tries to take anything out of context and there starts up some giant witch hunt that tumblr is infamous for.

First I would like to talk about intent of your question, as there are a few ways you could have worded it and how I have perceived this, by how you wrote out your statement to me.

1. you’re saying everything about it screams pedophilia and that’s not even the right term to be honest. pedophilia is a blanketed term people use when it’s not actually right. That is the sexual attraction to young children and it’s horrific. I don’t condone that and I think it’s disgusting. Ephebophilia - would be the sexual attraction to mid - to late adolescence which is still condemnable and it is predatory in nature. it’s gross especially in 2017. It makes me uncomfortable in actual society.

let’s add the whole “ , js” part of your ask - which makes me believe that you’re either trying to be condescending with your “just saying !” about it and you think you have higher morals or something than myself. You could easily not think this , and that I should not perceive the ‘js’ as something like that. That’s what’s so horrible about writing to be honest. You can’t tell the tone of someone’s talking voice.

instead: you could have gone “ hey it really seems like Karen and billy’s relationship isn’t good. it’s borderline pedophilia (if you didn’t know the word ephebophilia), have you thought about why you would want to write that?” and I probably still would have asked that you can hop into the IMs and we can discuss it.

Now that’s just one part of it. The second is what is my intent behind this relationship and why is it being written?

My intent ? To write something pretty realistic for the 80′s era, especially when there were so many movies that came out during the late 70′s, 80′s and late 90′s which involved a may to december romance . Either almost graduated or in college or fresh college graduate. Within your ask you never questioned me and ask well how old is Billy in this verse you have ? He’s 18. Dude is out of high school, he’s working in the garage by now and he needs to make extra money by doing shit for other people because being a mechanic in a small town isn’t putting food on the table - so welcome Billy the actual handyman. He’s 18, still dating the girls around his age and he has a flirtationship with Mrs. Wheeler.

No where did I ever say that this is the BEST relationship either or that it’s healthy or should be looked at as healthy. It’s not healthy at all. Billy isn’t a person she should be fantasizing about because she’s married and infidelity is a horrible thing, and her husband not treating her right is not a good excuse. He shouldn’t be using Mrs. Wheeler as an escape from his shitty life. They shouldn't want or try to use each other.

Well this is 2017 and you’re writing in 2017 - this is wrong. don’t write this-esque question?

The simple answer is then you need to go have a serious conversation with the people who wrote these and writers from christmas past, present, and future:

Pretty and Pink (Duckie & Lona)Harold & Maude (Harold & Maude)The Graduate (Benjamin & Mrs. Robinson)The Reader (which is the least of the worrisome things here)Y Tu Mama TambienAdoredClass (80′s)Sex in the City (the tv show)American PieThe Crush (loved this movie and she’s crazy)Breakfast at Tiffany’sAmerican BeautyUnfaithfulCheriYoung AdamWeird Science Desperate Housewives*more*

I would also 100% recommend all of these movies and tv shows because they’re fascinating. It’s fictional. None of these relationships actually work. A lot of it is coming of age stories , some of them are 17+ and others are strictly 18+ . Is it right morally ? No (on my behalf because some people think 17+ is up for debate). Is it right legally ? No (still depending on the country even though I think it should be 18 everywhere). I’m not going to debate that. I’m not really here to debate the legal stand point or morally because It’s only my place to tell you morally how I feel. Legally it’s already moot point. It’s fiction though and I’m not offended by it - actually if we want to stick to rpc, I’m more offended by the gross over 18 people who write smut with minors or who prey on minors here and if we were in an alley way, my 5′2″ would be ready to fight the person who did it. I’m also offended by the people who are under 18 and lie about their age and write smut with adults. If you are triggered by it because you’re a young guy and you were in a relationship like this or a young girl in a relationship like this, I can always tag it for you and it’s not a problem. I have no issue with that. If not you can unfollow me if you were following me in the first place (because this is a heavily triggering blog) , because this is part of the 80′s cliche movies and even up to now it’s a huge cliche. Troubled young guy that meets the hot for trot housewife that doesn’t get enough attention at home from her husband who would rather be sleeping or doing something else.

What do you get out of writing his relationship? I feel like i’m staying true to his character. I feel like i’m staying true to the 80′s mindset and the tropes they used . I’m not looking at this blog through 2017 lenses. I want people to pick apart his relationships, how he treats people , how he’s treated , what he feels like . I want someone to go - oh my god I get it in the end . Through his story, that this fictional character is made up of stories has so many other issues going on and various degrees of bad things and maybe good things happening in his life.

It’s not censorship, but it’s wrong so don’t write it? well it’s a minor form of that. You can write whatever you want on your blog as long as both parties are 18+. There are physical books that authors write that I find very disturbing and I don’t read them. I don’t write letters to them and say you shouldn’t have written this. I think this is something that needs to be exercised on tumblr. Even on tumblr when I think wow that’s a bit tacky - I just go on about my way. It’s none of my business what you write with fictional characters. I think more of us, including myself, need to exercise our ‘mind your own business’ policy when it comes to thinks that aren’t as important. If someone really is offended by the content they can easily unfollow or block the tag that I can create for it. I am not forcing anyone to view my blog, in fact I have said on many occasions that I will not force anyone to interact with Billy and if I see you making things about how you hate billy and billy rpers I’m probably going to unfollow just because i probably make you uncomfortable. When I see content I don’t like on tumblr I might think in my head, that’s disturbing - i don’t want to know how you got in that mindset or ‘yuck’ about something. It’s still none of my business. Everyone is writing for themselves and writing with their partners. I’m not the word police. No one is.

It sounds like you’re defending Ephebophilia and Pedophila ? No. I have extremely strong views on Pedophila as well as Ephenobilia. I have very extreme strong negative views on them and I’m a bit rash to be honest, because I have a sixteen year old sister. Pedophilia is disgusting. I don’t even understand the concept of having sexual feelings for underage children. It makes my stomach churn and you know those movies where the parents would go crazy because someone took their child or killed their child or did something even worse ??? That would be me. Even with my sister I tell her all the time she needs to be safe, because I honestly don’t know what I would do. I would end up on the TV Snapped.

Ephebophilia is equally as gross when it comes to Under 18, however it’s range goes to 18-19 as well and while it is probably uncomfortable it’s not illegal. However, this is only the legal age in the U.S. So i’m strictly speaking here. Apparently in other countries in europe it’s 16 which is the age of consent and they aren’t really considered minors. (personally I believe it should be 18 everywhere, but I’m not a world leader). There was not as much stigma around it now and people are not as aware as they are now of the affects that this can have on someone’s psyche.

The thing is too these types of relationships are sometimes mimicked by life. Toxic relationships, dating older people, dating younger people, dating old people - skinny people - fat people - blue people - different races - different cultures - people who speak different languages - bad relationships -abusive relationships - happy relationships - boring ones - exciting and thrilling ones - one’s that go on forever - immortal ones - ones that are cut off too soon - people die to young - they lie to each other - they’re honest - too honest - they sleep around - only marry and sleep with one person - they are bad for each other - one tries too hard and the other doesn’t.

So, are you worried that I condone this type of behavior? or you think it’s problematic writing it? Well I think it’s for more problematic and sad that the boy has a horrible father that beats him and I’m exploring this side of abuse. I’m uncomfortable with it? a bit yeah, but it’s a story I feel like needs to be written and it needs to be written by more than a dozen people and written over and over again and written for dozens of reasons because we relate to movies and books and writing. If someone connects with it on any level and goes fuck. I get it. or they get a piece of themselves back from it and go this was me in some way. I think we’ve all done our jobs/hobby as being a writer.

I’m not writing this to make it ‘acceptable’ or ‘healthy’ that’s not the end goal. How does Billy change from this? Is it worse? Is it better? Does he feel like a victim? Will he feel that way when he’s older? How will he accept the consequences of either a) breaking up a family or b) being someones secret or c) someone knowing what he’s doing. What are the social consequences? Is he a social outcast more now? Is Karen? Is it one of those on and off affairs? What made it happen if it did? How did it end?

The thing about some of these movies above are that they’re not supposed to make you feel safe. It’s a story. It’s a story that has you on edge all the time - through the introduction , the rising conflicts , the climax , and resolution . If we’re always going by the logic that we need to feel safe and secure while reading/watching something we’ll never read or watch anything. I’m sorry if it’s upsetting to you, but there are so many other more upsetting things in life that this is at the bottom of the barrel for me and probably a lot of people, so as i said before I can tag it and I’d be happy to tag billy’s interactions with any mrs. wheelers.

I hope that this also clears up why I’d rather it be a discussion. I don’t know who you are, how old you are, your background in any of this. I won’t even know if you took the time to read all of this and I can’t tag you to make sure that you do.

TL;DR: SCROLL UP.

#Anonymous #* . ♫ . · — ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉˢˢ ˢʰᶦᵗ ᵘᵖ ‘ OOC ’#* . ♫ . · — ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵈᶦʳᵗʸ ᵐᶦⁿᵈ ‘ ANSWERED ’#anon #anonymous #karen wheeler and billy relationship #tw: Ephebophilia #If there is anyone who would like to discuss this by all means hop into my IMs #i'm sorry if you're offended

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floralseokjin · 8 years ago

Text

— ask and you shall receive | pt 1 (m)

your sugar daddy says you don't have to sleep with him if you don't want to…trouble is, you do want to. You're just nervous and a little inexperienced, but he catches on quick and begins to teach you the true pleasures of sex, and boy, are they good…

pairing | jung hoseok x reader, sugar daddy! hoseok genre/warnings | smut, lots of oral, slow burn, dirty talk, dom! hoseok words | 13,865

» pt 1 :: pt 2 :: pt 3 :: pt 4 ✓

Getting a sugar daddy was something you thought you'd never do, but you guessed desperate times called for desperate measures. You needed the extra cash. School was hard to get through when you'd moved half way across the state away from your parents, too proud to ask them for an allowance. You'd tried a “normal” job. You'd tried a lot of them, but they never stuck to their ‘weekend only’ hours and most of the time you ended up working in the week too, not coming home till past midnight sometimes. You had no time to work on papers, turn in assignments on time or fit some extra studying in the library. Maybe that told you never apply for a waitressing job again, but here in this economy, that was the only thing available to kids trying to get through college.

It was your friend who suggested a sugar daddy, and you were disgusted at the thought instantly. Weren't they just older guys who used young women for sex? “Wine and dine them” as a way of guilting them into sleeping with them. Wasn't that like a sugar coated (mind the pun) way of calling yourself a sex worker? Despite your friends protests that you didn't even have to sleep with them: “I know a girl who just lets her guy take her out for meals and he just brings her along to work parties every now and again. He just likes paying her to hang around with him.” That just made you even more defiant. Those men seemed low-key desperate. Why would you pay a young pretty girl to drape across your arm? Couldn't they fall in love with someone and marry them?

It was a moment of madness when you finally gave in and downloaded an app to your phone, remembering the company your friend had said before. It was a Sunday night. You remembered it exactly because you had just got fired from another waitressing job. You were beginning to think you were destined for failure before you'd even graduated. But it wasn't your fault. You'd worked all day yesterday to come home at 11pm only then remembering that you had a paper to turn in by Monday morning. There was no way you could finish it all in a Sunday morning so you'd ended up pulling an all-nighter before going to work at 1pm. There was no time for a nap and you'd ended up exhausted, and if you were being quite honest, delirious. It wasn't your fault you'd accidentally tipped some man’s soup over him, but your boss didn't see it that way. “I know you have other commitments, __, but when in this building you need to give your upmost attention to the job…which you haven't been doing, have you?” He'd had no other choice but to let you go, he said and now here you were in bed, a killer headache but unable to go to sleep because you couldn't stop thinking about your little money problem.

The new semester started in a few weeks and you needed to buy new books…you also needed to eat and you'd used the last of your pay cheque from last weekend to buy clothes you didn't need… Your ex-boss had paid you what he owed you from yesterday and today but that wouldn't last two minutes. You were desperate, and in your exhausted state, you had a moment of weakness. You downloaded the app you remembered your friend telling you, typing in the name whilst trying not to cringe (sugar for you…) and began to fill out the sign-up form.

You were pleased to see that it actually gave you options on what you were looking for—no way were you clicking sex. It was companionship and friendship only, thank you very much. Your heart thudded as the screen loaded, booting up men that were all within 15miles of you. This was pretty much like tinder, you frowned to yourself, remembering the desperate time you'd used that app. You hoped everyone on sugar for you (yuck) wasn't looking for sex, because you were never going to give it to them. You weren't sure if you were even going to swipe anyone on here, they were old…no offence. But wrinkles and grey hair did not do it for you, not when they were a good twenty, maybe more, years older than you. That would just look highly suspicious when you were out together.

You were just about to give up when you saw him. Your heart beginning to beat rapidly for no apparent reason when his face appeared on the screen. Maybe it was because he was the first guy you'd seen in a while who didn't have a moustache and glasses, but here you were, mouth parted in awe as you scrolled through his images.

Jung Hoseok.

He was handsome—very handsome, like something you'd see in a movie, or maybe just someone who worked on Wall Street in general. You'd seen that film and he'd look like he'd fit right on in there. You just hoped he wasn't as much of an ass. He looked sweet in his pictures. He looked friendly. Approachable. His smile doing things to you that a picture shouldn't, warming your heart after a shit day. The best thing was he wasn't even that much older than you, in his late twenties…and looking for companionship and friendship. It was like the heavens had opened. Here was a guy who didn't seem like the (slightly derogatory) impressions you had of a sugar daddy (again, yuck.) He looked normal, a CEO of some business selling school supplies to all the state schools around the country. That was tame. Pretty cute if you asked yourself. That was no gross guy looking for sexual favours. This was a guy most probably lonely because he had to work all the goddamn hours in the world’s most boring job.

You swiped right—of course you did, and then in the morning when you woke up, not even remembering last night until you grabbed your phone to check the time, you had a message.

It was him. Jung Hoseok, CEO or pens and paper.

6:45am: Hey :) I see you swiped for me. How are you?

You found talking to Hoseok came naturally. Initially scared, you took the first step—replying to him, and then it took off from there. It was two weeks before you even met him, having too much fun getting to know each other over messages, and even one phone call. The night before you met in person. You should have known then that you were in too deep. That soon enough you would be begging him to fuck you, despite your then-self being adamant you'd rather chew wasps then have sex with some guy who paid you to hang out with him.

His voice was like honey. Very smooth, very low, very calm, and it soothed you instantly, dripping into your mind and making you feel relaxed. It lulled you. That's when you should have known there was something about Jung Hoseok. He wasn't like most men. He seemed like a gentleman, which surprised you regarding the nature of his activities. But really, no—he wasn't looking for sex. He'd said so himself. He was looking for companionship, a friend, someone who was willing to join him in company gatherings. You don't know why, but you believed him. You had no reason not to, after all.

That's why meeting him came easily. You weren't nervous—or not in the way you should have been anyway. Nervous that this guy could be a catfish or a murderer. No, you more nervous—or just a happy buzzing inside your veins—about seeing his glorious face in person, especially if his voice was anything to go by. And he was every bit as breath-taking as his pictures had shown. His hair dark, styled against his forehead, an obvious shine to it. His eyes dark too, a cheeky glint to them that made you feel instantly at ease. His mouth smiling at you, but somehow it seemed his lips wanted to smirk, and then his jaw—chiselled to perfection.

It was all rather confusing. He was drop dead gorgeous, but somehow you weren't intimated. Somehow talking to Hoseok came natural and so your friendship began.

It was only after you'd gotten to know him more personally, did the feelings come into play. You don't know when it happened, maybe it had always been there, ever since you'd seen his image—you just hadn't wanted to admit it. But it happened. Slowly but surely. The more you spent time together, contract long ago signed and dated, the more you found yourself dreaming of him in…other ways. You blamed his tactile nature. This platonic relationship you had going on. It had messed with your heart.

Every time he placed the palm of his hand on the small of your back to lead you into a restaurant. Every time he placed his hand over yours at a table during conversation. Every time he swiped stray hairs back behind your ear, or wiped a fallen eyelash away and told you to make a wish. And every time he'd look at you intently, a smile on his face as he said goodbye to you at your door, his warm breath hitting your face as he whispered, making you go weak at the knees. Every time.

You were falling even more.

It was six weeks in when you went in for a kiss and he declined.

You were drunk, so you didn't know if it just made it even more mortifying or not. At least you should have been able to blame it on the alcohol. You say should, because you couldn't. They say the truth comes out in drink and there was no escaping it. It had given you the confidence to make a move, but it had backfired. Not that you blamed him. You were very drunk of course. He was a gentleman. It's just what he had said to you as you stood there, rosy cheeked, head down, gaze intently on the ground—embarrassed.

You had accompanied him to some company dinner, going for drinks afterwards. It was a small get-together, a couple of men from the office Hoseok worked at, higher ups and what not. Some had brought their wives, girlfriends, and some came alone. You don't know what you were. A date of some sort. Some of the guys had met you before, one in particular and you had never liked the way he had looked at you. His stare practically ate you up, a smarmy smirk on his face. You should have known then that he knew what you were.

But you didn't. You'd just gone about enjoying your night, drinking one to many vodka and cokes, because of course—Hoseok was paying. You were blind drunk and on the dance floor when you felt someone grinding up against you. You thought it was Hoseok at first. Who else would do it? Or maybe just part of your wanted it to be him. Like you said, you were drunk… However, turning around to face the suspect you saw it was Mr. Smarmy—or Seungyoon, if you had to go by proper names… He was wearing a shit eating grin on his face and instantly his hands came down to grip your hips, visibly trying to press his crotch against yours as he continued to dance. You recoiled straight away, highly uncomfortable, but he wouldn't let you go.

“Get off me,” you hissed, clasping your fingers around his wrists to try and pull him off. “What is wrong with you? I’m with Hoseok!”

“We both know that isn't true, sweetheart.”

His words rung in your ears loudly, as if the music from the bar and crowds of people didn't exist. You knew straight away he knew your little arrangement. You could tell by the look in his eyes. But before you could say anything, you heard a voice from behind you.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Hoseok. Here to save the day, and your heart flooded with relief. Especially when Seungyoon let go of you and you felt Hoseok’s hand on the small of your back, his chest pressed hard against you.

“I was just asking your little plaything if she wanted to come home with me,” Seungyoon smirked and you looked up at him in shock, your mouth open.

What the hell was he playing at?

“You're drunk, Kang. Go home,” Hoseok snarled, and you didn't dare look at him. You could practically feel the anger radiate off his chest.

“But I'm sure if I offered to pay more, she'd take me up on the offer,” Seungyoon retaliated, playing innocent, his brows furrowed together.

Your blood run cold, now knowing he knew for sure. He wasn't messing, and for the first time since the exchange began, you looked up at Hoseok, his body now towering over your shoulder towards the other man. His jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscles flex and his gaze locked so hard, you felt the anger burn through you from the angle.

“You have no fucking clue what you're on about,” he gritted out, voice so tense and dark you had trouble placing it to him. You had never seen him like this.

Before you could process what was happening, you let out a small gasp when Seungyoon smirked again, taking a step towards you and then everything happened so fast. Hoseok moved in front of you, his hand coming out to push the other man’s chest with such force, he stumbled, reaction time crappy and not very nimble on his feet he was so intoxicated. He fell back into a group of people dancing behind you and they complained in shock, pushing him upright.

“Never mind,” Hoseok growled. “You stay here and have fun, we’re going.”

That's how you found yourself outside the building, back to the wall as he asked if you were okay, one arm wrapped around your waist and his hand cupping one side of your face. You were little shaken up, but mainly because: one, Seungyoon had guessed your relationship and two, Hoseok’s attitude back in the bar shouldn't have—but did—drive you crazy. If you hadn't already thought of him in this way, you did now, and every time you closed your eyes you could just imagine him kissing you, touching you, fucking you. Holding you in his strong arms as he fucked you up against this wall even. You didn't care where it was. You just wanted it.

Which was strange for you because you took sex with someone very seriously. You'd only ever been intimate with two me in your life and they had both been boyfriends you were very much in love with—or thought you were, anyway. One was a piece of work. The thought of having sex with virtually a stranger or just someone you had no feelings for was outrageous. That's why the idea of a sugar daddy had been almost unthinkable until you had no moment to buy food. However, now, knowing Hoseok like you did….it was enough to make you change your mind. You couldn't stop looking straight at his hauntingly pretty face, the way eyes stared intently into yours, making sure you were okay and the way his pink hued lips parted as he spoke. You were practically craving this man.

That's why, without thinking, you leaned in and closed the distance, fluttering your eyes closed as your lips touched for a few seconds. Hoseok was mid-sentence, but you hadn't been concentrating hard enough to know what he was on about and now he had been forced to stop, a noise of surprise leaving him as he processed what was happening. You wanted him to kiss back, to tangle his fingers in your hair hold you to him, to moan into your mouth as he got lost in the embrace, and for one second you did actually feel him press his mouth against yours, giving in would you say, before he pulled back with a light sigh.

Of discomfort? Of annoyance? Of something else? It was hard to tell, but you felt your stomach dip in disappointment and rejection anyway. Feeling him move his arm from around your waist and his hand leave your face as he took a step back. Oh God, you'd fucked up. But all you could do was look at the floor red faced, unsure of what to say to make it better.

“__, you're drunk,” he began, his voice low and soothing, as if he was trying to comfort you, but it also felt to you, like he was telling off a silly child who didn't know any better.

Humiliation washed all over you.

“And it's not part of our agreement, is it?”

Those words repeated in your head all night. When he took you home, despite your insistence that you could get a taxi, and long into the early hours of the morning, while you tried to get to sleep, alone in your bed. By the time you'd woken up the next day, you were sure your “agreement” with Hoseok was most likely over. It had to be. Any minute now, you were just waiting for a phone call from him letting you down gently, his voice firm, but painfully patronising to you.

You did receive a phone call, but it wasn't to end things. No, half eleven in the morning, Hoseok was calling you to meet him in the park for a “walk.” He wanted to do it in person. You knew it. It was worse than by phone, and by the time you arrived, you were a mess. However, to your surprise, he greeted you with a smile and a flask of some concoction. A homemade hangover remedy he'd made himself that he swore by. It tasted horrendous, but you swallowed it down by his orders, hoping he was telling the truth and it would cure your banging headache. He was dressed in casual clothes today, something you rarely saw, and the sight only made you more on edge. He looked good, and you didn't know how long you could keep ignoring these feelings. The animalistic urge to just jump his bones. So unlike you, but you were beginning to welcome the thoughts.

You felt awkward, of course you did. Despite how drunk you had been last night, you still could remember everything you'd done. Like kissing Hoseok. It was embarrassing and you had no idea why he was acting like nothing had happened. You were even more surprised when he grabbed for your hand, lacing your fingers together to walk down the path along the pond. His touch gave you butterflies and you revelled in the feeling of warmth, telling yourself it was wrong, but being unable to stop yourself when you began imagining this was something more.

To the outside world, it must've looked like you were a couple. Going for a Sunday morning walk down the park. Hoseok was only a few years older than you, so it didn't cause any judging looks. In fact, if anything, you both kept getting smiles from strangers. It was silly, but you liked it. You shouldn't have, but you did. It had taken you six weeks to want more than you first thought. The image of being intimate with Hoseok now incredibly appealing as oppose to the disgust you first felt. Maybe it was because he wasn't at all what you imagined a sugar daddy to be—not that there was a dictionary definition, but still. He wasn't what you expected and the more time you spent with him, the more of him you wanted. You were a bumbling mess by the time he sat you down and began a conversation.

“Are you okay after last night?”

The first place your mind went was the kiss. Of course it had to be that. He was bringing your drunken mistake up on a park bunch, where old grandmas were walking past with their dogs. You wanted to die, but before you could even think to explain yourself, he was carrying on.

“Seungyoon can be a little…wild in drink. I'm sorry if he made you feel uncomfortable. I’ll have to speak to him privately in work tomorrow.”

Oh. Okay.

So it wasn't about the kiss? Was he just going to skirt around the elephant in the room?

“No, it's okay,” you dismissed. “I'm fine, honestly. I'm more worried about you…he seems to know…what I am.”

To say it hadn't been worrying you was an understatement. When your mind wasn't thinking out the kiss, it was worrying about what Seungyoon had said.

“What are you exactly?” He questioned, playing dumb. “You have nothing to feel ashamed of, __. You're my friend.”

Two things jumped to your mind at once. First, you didn't think friends paid one of them to hang out with the other, and second, you only realised then how much that simple word hurt you. It just further validated the fact that he did not want to kiss you at all. You didn't know how that made you feel.

But just like Hoseok, he realised something was up. Maybe he could read people well, you'd come to the notion, because he always seemed to know when you were feeling down or upset, and he leaned in closer, his head bowing down to be level with yours.

“Do…you remember anything else from last night?” He asked slowly, cautiously. “You were pretty intoxicated. Maybe enough to not mean the things you were doing…”

He was being cryptic. You knew he meant the kiss. However, for some reason he wasn't outright saying what he wanted, and that wasn't like him at all. What did that mean? Maybe...? It was stupid, but when you looked up into his eyes, they looked unsure, like he was testing the waters. Did he want to know if you'd been meaning to kiss him?

“I meant it,” was all you replied, feeling brave.

He had to know what you meant, and just like that he was shifting his gaze, turning his head straight, to look out at the pond, watching the ducks. He let out a light sigh, not in annoyance or anything, more like a noise to build up courage. You didn't know, nor understand, but it but it made your heart beat faster in excitement.

“What about our agreement?” He chuckled, amused at something you didn't get and you frowned. Maybe he didn't want the same as you then.

“I thought the idea of seeing me anything but a companion would disgust you,” he shrugged.

That was right. You had probably said that one night when you were first getting to know each other, however, not in so many words. You would've never told him the thought of doing anything remotely sexual with him would disgust you because you had always found him attractive. What disgusted you was effectively sleeping with him for money… Although, now he was more than a gorgeous, rich stranger. He was Hoseok. You knew him. You laughed with him. You had fun with him. The thought wasn't as repulsive as before—in fact all that was in its place was trepidation. Did he not want you like that?

You decided to be truthful.

“T-The more I see you, the more I want…” but the words wouldn't come out. It was useless.

“The more you want more?” He helped along and you felt your heart stop beating for a moment, hopefulness washing through it.

He wouldn't be helping you if he wasn't interested also…

You nodded. “I think so.”

“Thinking is no good,” he told you. “You need to know what you want. You need to stop and think, and then ask me when you know for sure.”

“Ask you what?” You questioned, unable to stop yourself. What was all this crypticness? Couldn't he just tell you he wanted to kiss you too, and then you could. Why was he making things so complicated for you? Uncomfortable, even. You didn't like being put on the spot. Especially with something like this. Being confident with your mind, body…and just sex in general, wasn't your forte.

“Ask me what you want,” he replied simply, turning his head to look at you once again, his pupils nearly as dark as his irises, and you couldn't look away, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Ask me what you want me to do to you right now—ask me what you wanted me to do to you last night. I swear I’ll give it to you.”

Your eyes widened, surprised at the turn this had taken all of a sudden, in a public park of all places. But him telling you this must have meant something. Everything you wanted, he wanted too…

“I want you to…kiss me,” you finally said, and watched the way he eyed you carefully, nudging you almost—correcting you, and you felt yourself blush.

“Can you kiss me?”

It sounded strange to ask in such a way, but you couldn't ignore what it made you feel, excitement washing through you as you watched him smile, his eyes falling to your mouth as he replied.

“I would like nothing more. I just needed to make sure you felt the same way,” he said, answering your inklings with a simple sentence. “I knew you being drunk wasn't the best way to do so last night, so I waited until you were of sound mind again.”

You watched him with wide eyes as he lowered his head to yours, gaze still on your mouth before he fluttered his eyelids closed, and it wasn't until you felt the soft skin of his lips on yours did you close yours too. There was nothing more that needed to be said right now. The kiss could do it all.

It was different to last nights, initiated by him instead and you felt him apply pressure as your lips parted slightly, feeling the warmth of his breath. It was minty and fresh and you could feel each shudder of his exhales. This was actually happening. You were really kissing him. After all this time imagining, it was finally happening. In your local park—in public, where strangers probably thought you were a couple. The feeling exhilarated you for some reason, even more so when you felt one of Hoseok’s hands reach out and cup your cheek gently.

The kiss was languid. Your lips barely moving together as you sat there, but it was enough. It was more than enough. This was the first kiss that would change the dynamics of your relationship. There would be more. You knew it. So when he pulled away slowly, placing one last peck to your parted mouth, you didn't mind. You smiled up at him coyly, which he returned. His, a grin that showed his white teeth as he wrapped strands of your hair behind your ear. You didn't know what to do with your hands that were placed in your lap, vibrating with a need to touch him too, so you lifted one up and placed it gingerly on his knee, squeezing just to let him know you liked it. You were happy.

“It will change our agreement if you want to carry this on,” he hummed, looking directly into your eyes, and his authoritative nature just made you even more excited.

“I don't mind,” you replied, never blinking. “I really want this.”

And change your agreement it did.

Whereas you used to meet up with Hoseok for lunch or dinner at a restaurant, just to keep him company and let him speak about his day with a ‘normal’ person as he liked to put it. Now, you actively hung out as his penthouse. Mainly on weekends when he had a free schedule, but sometimes even on a weekday—when he wanted to…relieve stress.

Tonight was one of those nights. A Wednesday night to be precise. He'd told you to let yourself in before he came home from work, and as soon as he got through the door he practically ran up to you and kissed you hard. You could practically feel the frustrations he'd been feeling all day, but as he pulled away he still insisted on making you something to eat. He didn't have to, but he wanted to, so you let him, making sure to massage his shoulders and kiss the nape of his neck as he prepared everything in the kitchen.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you,” he said with a smile and a roll of his shoulders, moaning slightly as you relaxed his muscles.

It was funny because you thought the exact same thing about him.

What had you done to deserve a man like Hoseok? He had totally defiled your views on sugar daddy’s—totally and utterly. Of course, you knew that he was probably a one off, but that just made you even more lucky. He was your one in a million, and the more you spent with him, the harder you got sucked in. He was addictive, which sucked megatons for you because all he seemed to want to do was kiss. Since you'd past the first scary hurdle in that park a few of weeks ago, a tiny (okay, you lied—a huge) part of your brain had been practically brimming with excitement for what was to come. But as your misfortune would have it, you hadn't even past first base.

It wasn't like you didn't have the chance, but Hoseok was somewhat of a gentleman and he also seemed to have the resolve of steel. No matter how many make out sessions you got in, he seemed to know when to reign it in. While he was composed, you were a mess.

But not tonight. You were a woman on a mission, and you pounced after food. He didn't even have a chance to change out of his shirt and pants before he found himself nestled into his sofa with you straddling him, your lips attached as if they were superglued.

You kissed him hard, a woman possessed and this time he seemed to be losing it—finally. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling visibly as his hands gripped your hips. He must have been extremely stressed with work to let himself go this much. His movements were manic, so much so, you had trouble keeping up almost, your tongues frantically dancing together as he groaned loudly into your mouth. He was hot under you and you ground down on him, making sure to rock your hips back and forth, desperate for him to initiate something more. You could feel his dick already hard underneath you and you were desperate to feel it in the flesh. The need was overwhelming. A burning in your crotch and the pit of your stomach. You knew you were wet. You could feel your underwear sticking to your skin as you glazed over him. All he seemed to do was grip your middle harder, his breathing getting louder.

You were getting impatient. The most you had done since you agreed on changing your relationship was kiss and you needed some type of suffice. You decided if he wasn't going to do something about it, you'd have to take the lead. He seemed to like it when you asked him for things… Your hands came to his chest, feeling for the buttons of his shirt as you began to fumble with them, your fingers shaking from the immense pleasure and strain you were under right now. He let you get the first three undone, his hands trailing up your back to stroke up and down, but when you broke away from the kiss to move to his jaw and then down his neck, he tried to pull away, a moan of warning leaving him before his hands reached for head, pulling you away gently.

“W-What are you trying to do to me?” He chuckled breathlessly, and you noticed his kiss bitten his lips were, all puffy and red.

“I want you, Hoseok,” you purred, bending your head to the crook of his neck again and puckering against the skin,

You heard him take a shaky inhale and you took the chance to run your hand slowly down his chest until you hit the waistband of his pants, your fingers jamming in his belt. You were inches away from his cock, you knew it, and you could just imagine it pressing hard and flat against his thigh. The image alone was enough to make your mouth water, but before you could think of slipping your hand any further and cupping what you so wanted, his bony fingers wrapped around your wrist, stopping you. You whined as he spoke.

“Not now,” he breathed. “Not like this.”

You lifted your head up to eye him, not being able to stop the pout to your voice as you questioned him.

“But why not? You said if I asked you, you'd give me it,” you said, before circling your hips over his crotch again as you carried on, feeling brave. “Can you fuck me, Hoseok?”

He groaned then, his eyes fluttering closed as he took another breath and you felt his hips gyrate against yours for a millisecond, his dick pressing so tight against your crotch, you could feel your panties stick to your heat, cold and wet, before he was stopping again. He opened his eyes again then and you saw they were no longer as hungry as before.

Damn him. He was still made of steel.

“I would love nothing more,” he murmured, taking your face in his hands and forcing you to hold his gaze, even though you were feeling rejected and sad now that he was so adamant not to sleep with you.

“But…” he trailed off, making sure you saw the glint in his eyes and the tone in his voice changed. “I also want to do other things first.”

You quirked an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of you and the pit of your stomach jumped in pleasure. How pathetic.

“Rushing into things is no fun. It took as a while to get to this stage, right?” He asked you and you reluctantly nodded, unsure of what he was getting at. “Let's be patient. The final act will be much more…satisfying if we do.”

Your body continued to go into haywire as he bent his head to kiss up the column of your throat languidly, as if he had all the time in the world. Your head flew back and you moaned quietly in pleasure, his hands slipping to hold the back of your neck as he continued to slide his mouth down your skin. This was torture.

“If we do everything at once, you won't get a taste of everything properly,” he whispered against you, sending shivers up your spine. “I know how inexperienced you are,” he added.

That much was true. You'd told him so only a couple of weeks ago when you were ‘bonding.’ You'd only slept with two guys before him. A high school boyfriend who you lost your virginity to and then a guy you'd dated fleetingly in your first year of college, who didn't turn out as nice as you first thought. You were painfully inexperienced. You could remember every sexual encounter you'd ever had. His words should have made you feel embarrassed, but they only seemed to turn you on even more.

“No man has ever been able to truly pleasure you, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be this wet from a kiss,” he noted, and you moaned in agreement, feeling him kiss down, painfully close to your cleavage.

“I can feel you through all these layers… Don't worry, baby girl,” and the pet name shot straight to your core. He had never called you such a thing and it made you putty in his hold. You had to grip onto his forearms to keep from falling backwards.

“I’ll show you how you're meant to be treated. I’ll show you how good sex can be, and the other things that come with it.”

Fuck.

“Can't you show me something right now?”

His voice was so dark and seductive at this moment in time, dripping sexiness, you couldn't help yourself and you heard him chuckle, amused as he pulled away from your neck, his hands falling down your butt before he gave each cheek a tight squeeze.

“You're already trying it tempt me. This will be fun.”

You frowned at him, still annoyed he had this much control over his needs, but you secretly loved it. Control was something you didn't think you'd be hot for, but knowing how he would be the one to show you so much pleasure just left you wobbly limbed. Your body was in his hands and that just turned you on even more.

“It's late,” he commented, checking his watch suddenly and changing the subject completely

“You have class tomorrow—I should take you home.”

You didn't hear from Hoseok properly for four days after that. He was busy with work, even over the weekend and the anticipation was killing you. Every time you thought of that night you got turned on again. Just remembering what he had said to you and promised you drove you wild. You were on pins just imagining what he had in store for you. It wasn't until the fifth day you got a letter in the post, and you gasped when you opened it. It was Hoseok’s STI checks—all clear. The thought made you feel oddly embarrassed, maybe because it all seemed so clinical and formal. But you knew it had to be done. And know, whatever he had planned just became even more real. It was finally happening.

You and Hoseok.

You actually still had the results of yours from nearly a year back when you'd broken it off with the guy you'd been seeing. You'd found out he'd cheated and your roommate/best friend had convinced you to get a test done. You didn't know where he had been during your time together if he could cheat. Thankfully you came back clear, but the damage had been done for you. You hadn't had sex with anyone since. That's why you were so dubious when it came to men, and even more so, that's where your distaste came from when it came to sugar daddies. Sex meant something to you. It was meaningful and you didn't just give your body to anyone for the sake of it. You didn't have to love the person, but you needed to feel a connection.

And that's what you had with Hoseok. It had been building for nearly three months. You knew him like the back of your hand, you liked to think. He confided in you and you cared for him. You liked to think he felt the same. All those hours spent together wasn't just for the hell of it. It had been weeks of getting to know each other. You knew he wasn't using you for sex, because there was none—not yet. And you weren't using him for his money. Of course, the money helped you pay some extra bills, like your cell contract and your Netflix account (however laughable) and also meant you could go a little wild when it came to snacks on the grocery list, buy more than that… it let you live comfortably. You had hardly any stress anymore. You could do your school work without having to worry about rushing to a waitressing job to make under minimum wage an hour.

Maybe the STI checks should make you feel tacky, but it didn't. You just felt excited. Beyond yourself as you wondered what Hoseok’s next move was. You needed to feel his hands on you, his mouth on yours…the words he spoke, only slightly sinful that time, and you couldn't wait to see what else he up his sleeve. Baby girl was still ringing in your head, and it made your body tingle. You had never experienced dirty talk—if that's what you called it, but you were under the impression you'd like it. Only because it came from Hoseok. You'd love anything that got brought to you by him.

He was driving you wild.

It was the next weekend when you finally saw him again. He had been incredibly busy with work and had phoned you Thursday to ask if it would be okay to come over yours to see you on Saturday night. That surprised you. He had never been around yours unless he was dropping you off or waiting for you to leave to go somewhere. You asked why and he told you he wanted you to be comfy. Home comforts were better for relaxing apparently, that's what he said anyway, and it only got your stomach flipping over in excitement once again. What did this mean? He ended the call with a “can't wait to see you,” and you could tell by his gruff tone there was only one thing on his mind.

Lucky for you, your friend was staying over her boyfriend’s this weekend and you had the place to yourself. She knew nothing of Hoseok and you knew if she so much as saw a wink of him she'd know what was going on straight away. If his expensive suits and strong cologne didn't give him away, the fact she was the one who told you about the sugar daddy world may be the nail in the coffin. She still thought you were disgusted by the idea. You'd told her you'd finally swallowed down your pride and asked your parents for an allowance. She had no clue, and you didn't want her to. It was hard keeping a secret from her, but you managed to hide every outing you had with Hoseok with an absurd library one. However by now you realised she may have thought there was a guy involved somewhere. You never went out this much. You didn't mind her knowing seeing as she was your closet friend, but there was something holding you back. You didn't know what.

You were practically vibrating with excitement once Saturday night rolled around, and when you opened the door to your apartment he flew into you, kissing you hard, a low moan of contentment leaving him as he gripped the back of head in both hands, his mouth needy on yours. You could get used to this type of affection. It has been over a week since you'd seen him last, and for a moment you nearly forgot he was here for something a little more…x-rated.

As you remembered, you wondered what he had in store for you… Was tonight the night you'd have sex? Would you stay up all night as he taught you everything you'd been missing out on? The pit of your stomach began to fizzle with the thoughts, something stirring already as he pulled away from you, slightly breathless.

“Did you already eat?” He asked and you nodded in reply, too nervous to find your voice. You knew it would be too wobbly right now.

He'd told you to eat before he arrived, which just made you even more anxious. It was obvious he didn't want to waste time messing around with eating dinner tonight, and now your heart began to thud in your chest as you watched him stare intently at you, before his eyes darted behind you to the living area, his gaze dropping to the sofa before gazing around to the closed doors in the back.

He was searching for your room. Hoseok had never been in it before and grew more excited. Something was finally going to happen. He seemed just as eager as you, you could tell by the way his hands began to caress your sides. He couldn't stop touching you. You gripped onto his t-shirt and he stilled instantly, looking back at you. You tried to keep your voice steady as you spoke, wanting to at least have a little control before he took over completely. He had said he wanted to show you the true pleasures of sex after all…

“Let's go to my room…”

You turned around then, feeling his hands cup your hips as you lead him to your destination, he followed so closely behind you, his chest was flat against your back. You turned around to face him once you made it to your bed, feeling the back your knees hit it as your lips found his again and his arms wound around you, holding you tight to him.

His kiss was fast tonight, like he was on a mission, and you were already putty in his hands. Although that could've been because you were already anticipating whatever was about to happen. You had been curious for so long and now finally something was about to happen. You felt his tongue break the seam of your lips and then you were darting out yours to meet his, pressing them together as you moaned desperately. You were both needing this. Both wanting it.

He broke away to look at you again, his face uncharacteristically serious as he went to speak again, watching your face for any signs of hesitation.

“Are you sure about this?”

You nodded quickly, but realised it would be better to answer him, a croaky “y-yes,” falling from you as you gripped onto his chest, palms flat against his hard pecs. You wondered if he worked out? It sure felt like he did, and you wondered if you would ever be lucky enough to see it in action. You bet his body was a sight to see. You hoped you got to see him naked tonight.

You watched him nod to himself, seemingly in his own little world before he smiled—or maybe he smirked. You couldn't tell right now; your mind was a blur. You couldn't believe something was finally going to happen. His hands fell to hold just above your hips, sending a tingle up your spine.

“Get on the bed then, baby girl.”

There it was again and you moaned out loud. You couldn't help it. You practically pushed yourself out of his arms and pounced on the bed, making sure your head hit the pillows and you watched him grin in amusement. Maybe you were little too eager but you didn't care. You'd been waiting a long time.

You watched him round the bed, stopping at the end of it to stand there and watch you. He was dressed casual tonight and that only turned you on even more. Black pants and a light grey t-shirt. You were in your “formal loungewear” as you liked to call it. Too casual to wear outside—striped blue shorts and a white jersey shirt—but too posh to be pyjamas. You knew there was no point dressing up if you weren't going anywhere and besides, you only just had a bath, making sure your skin smelt great from the shower gel and body butter you'd used.

You watched him eagerly as he mounted the bed, crawling over your body slowly before he kissed your lips gently. This kiss was more loving than the last. He was taking his time and you widened your legs to let him slip in and press his body against yours. Feeling his body weight on yours was heavenly and you never wanted to let him go. You continued to kiss languidly, your tongues caressing each other's as he gripped your face and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He had calmed down a bit now, and that was okay. You took the time to steady your breathing. You had all the time in the world.

It wasn't until you felt him leave your mouth and begin to kiss down your neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh as he did so and making wet spots that you began to lose it again. It reminded you of the other night at his when he had made all those promises. He was already pleasuring you with the slightest of touches, you couldn't imagine what it would feel like when he did something else. You let out soft, little moans at the image and he groaned in approval.

“I've been thinking of this moment for days,” he whispered in your ear, and you shivered. “Ever since you were grinding on me like no tomorrow… You were so wet… I bet you’re wet again already for me—and I haven't even done anything.”

You moaned in reply, totalling agreeing with him. You were sure you'd been wet all week. You hadn't recovered from last Wednesday. Your body craved him. You didn't care what he did as long as he did something. The way he spoke was already new to you. No man had ever spoke to you in such a way. You had thought it cringey, but now you realised, it depended on the man who spoke it. Hoseok could get you wet in seconds with a baby girl.

“Should I check?” He asked you, lifting his head up to look at you, and you dreaded to think about what you looked like right now.

Your breathing was already a mess and you were sure your eyes were spacing out. The idea of Hoseok finally touching the one spot you ached for him was enough to send you into overdrive.

“Or should I get you naked first?” He wondered out loud, quirking an eyebrow as if he was having all the fun in the world deciding. “I'd love to see what you look like finally. Beautiful, I bet.”

Before you had time to reply, even though you were pretty sure your voice wasn’t working properly right now, he descended to your throat, kissing and sucking down it as he came to your chest and suddenly you felt his hands begin to fiddle with the buttons of your shirt. He really was undressing you…and your stomach stirred. He took his time, undoing every one before he unveiled your chest to him and his eyes bulged for a moment when he realised you weren't wearing a bra. He ogled you before his hands came out and cupped the mounds of flesh gently.

It felt like fireworks were going off inside your body, but it felt so good to finally have his hands on your skin, especially when he began to play with your nipples, already hard, just as ready as your whole body. His hands left you momentarily to push the sleeves of your shirt down your arms and you twisted your body, sitting up slightly, desperate to get it off and leave your chest bare. As soon as it was off, his mouth met one of your nipples then, periodically sucking and then flicking his tongue against the hard nub, whilst one of his hands began to message the other. Your gripped onto his neck again. Your body on fire, your back arched as you chased the feeling, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head already.

Your felt his other hand replace his tongue as his mouth moved south, kissing wet kisses all the way down the plain of your stomach, deliberately taking his time as both of his hands fondled your breasts, his eyes on your face, watching the way you lost yourself. It wasn't long before you felt his mouth at your hip bones, tongue swirling around the sharp bone as he slid his hands down to meet the waistband of your shorts. Your breasts buzzed still with his touch, but now your lower half tingled in excitement.

“Time to see you in all your beauty,” he murmured, and you lifted up your butt so he could pull the fabric down, folding a leg so he could pull them off completely and flick them off the other foot.

The realisation that you were naked suddenly shot through you, and you became embarrassed. More so because he was still fully clothed. You didn't like being naked in front of people, not even your past boyfriends, but the way Hoseok stared at you as if you were beauty personified relaxed you instantly. He began to caress your thighs gently and you shifted uncomfortably, your body reacting desperately.

“So impatient,” he whispered amused, but his gaze was transfixed on your mound, his fingers now tracing back and fore up the inside of your right thigh.

You knew you were wet already. You could feel how swollen you were, but you didn't dare look down, keeping your eyes on his face as you tried to keep calm. It was hard considering you were finally going to get something you wanted. Your mind darted to the possibilities, but by the way you saw Hoseok bite down on his lip before his tongue darted out and swiped across it, you knew what it was.

And then he spoke again, confirming your inklings.

“I can't wait to taste you. I bet you taste sweet, huh?”

You couldn't reply, and out of your line of vision you could see your chest rise and fall heavily, your fingers playing with the material of your bed spread. Your lower half burned with need, already imagining how good his mouth would feel against your wet and swollen sex. You grew wetter at the thought, goosebumps forming on your skin as he continued to stare at you as if you were best thing he'd ever seen.

He leant up on his knees then, his hands leaving you and you suddenly felt very cold. He was making you wait and it was painful. You felt as if you would burst any moment now.

“Has anyone ever eaten you out before?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

You instantly blushed. You had never been asked anything so out right. Of course you had, but you had never enjoyed it fully. The guy had never been into it. You had thought there was something wrong with you at the time. You nodded in reply, too shy to speak and Hoseok smiled.

“I can tell by the way you're nervous that it wasn't very good then,” he noted. “Did you cum?”

Your eyes bulged. You didn't think you could ever reply to that. It was like you were getting sexually evaluated. There was a silence and you realised he was waiting for you. You needed to give him an answer. You took a deep breath and shook yourself out of the shock you were under.

“No…I don't think so,” you admitted.

“You don't think so?” He repeated. “They can't have cared for what they were doing if you're so unsure. Don't worry, by the time I'm done with you tonight, you’ll know what an orgasm feels like.”

Your heart skipped a beat the same time your stomach flipped over. The way he was speaking to you was brand new. You would have never guessed such words would come out of such a respective, well-spoken man. But that was the turn on. With each syllable more, you become jelly, bracing yourself when you watched him crouch down, pressing his thighs into the bed so he was once again level with your crotch.

You were on fire as you watched him, his fingers running up the inside of your thigh lightly, so close to your heat you began to fidget, your nerves vibrating as you willed him to just touch you. You gasped in relief when you felt the tips of his fingers tracing the outline of your flesh, the feeling intense, and you knew then, there was no going back. You were finally going to feel some real pleasure. He was barely touching you, just grazing over the swollen skin, he hadn't even slipped his fingers to your entrance to see how wet you were.

You finally built up the courage to look down and the sight made your whole body tense up. Hoseok’s face was mere centimetres from your heat, watching it intently as if he was in awe by it. The sight turned you on even more, unable to believe he was finally touching you like this and then he dipped his fingertips down your slit, coating them in your arousal that was seeping out of your entrance. His touch was so light it felt more intense that anything before and he circled his finger slowly, his eyes flicking up to your face as you made soft sighs in pleasure, your breathing shallow as you realised you'd been holding your breath for periods of time, watching him intently.

“So pretty, so wet,” he practically sang, his voice low. “I can't wait to taste you.”

You gasped again when you watched him begin to kiss the inside of your left thigh, his lips puckering as his tongue swirled against the flesh. The air instantly turned the wet patches cold, only to be instantly warmed up by this tongue again. You were aware your hips were moving in small circles, desperate to feel his mouth on your heat instead of your legs, and he noticed too, because suddenly his palms were flattening against your thighs, rendering you motionless the same time he spread your legs, and you felt painfully exposed.

“Patience is a virtue, baby girl,” he told you and you could tell he was teasing you when you saw him smirk against your skin. “I'm going to make you cum so hard tonight, just be patient.”

You were getting wetter and wetter by the second. You could feel it begin to run down your ass cheeks and onto the bed. His mouth so close to where you wanted him was torture, but you kept painfully still, careful not to move in anyway. Being patient like he told you. If you listened it could mean he'd get to work even quicker. You couldn't wait to feel his tongue against your wet, swollen heat. You almost thought your obeying had worked when he kissed higher up your leg, until he was practically making out with your bikini line. He was so close you could feel his breath against your sensitive flesh and you felt your back stiffen. You weren't going to hold out much longer. You needed some relief—now.

The hand on your right thigh moved closer, his thumb grazing your clit ever so lightly and you moaned, incredibly sure that you were being overdramatic but you just couldn't help it. He was teasing you and you wouldn't be surprised you would come as soon as his tongue touched you. Your thighs were shaking now, painful in their jammed position and you could feel the tension build up and up from the anticipation. You couldn't hold on any longer and it didn't look like Hoseok was relenting anytime soon, his kisses even slowing down as he groaned into your skin.

“H-Hoseok…p-please,” you whined, finding it hard to speak, your mind was so clouded.

He looked up at you then, still kissing marks into your flesh but his eyes staring at you, dark and hungry. He smirked as he pulled away and replied.

“Ask me what you want me to do to you—I know you want to,” he added, seeing you go to protest, and to tease you even more he began to wind little circles around your clit, barely any pleasure but it made you buck your ass up, needing more.

You were wetter than you had ever been before. He hadn't even touched you! And know he wanted you to ask him to do what he was supposed to be giving you anyway. You would have pouted if you weren't so far gone. So, instead, you just listened. If asking got what you wanted, then ask you would.

“Please, Hoseok,” you groaned. “Will you please taste me already?”

You were aware the request wasn't as polite as it should have been, but he didn't seem to notice. Maybe he was finally losing some of his resolve. Mr. Steel was finally bending. His attention fell back to your core, his gaze intense as he moved his fingers from it and lowered his head. His chest was practically flat to the bed now as he inhaled your scent quietly and then time stood still. His palms came back to your thighs as he held your legs open and you watched him place a kiss right on top of your clit. You were sure your heart stopped beating at that moment in time, basking in the wonderful feeling of his lips on you—finally. He pulled back to shift his body, getting comfy and then he went in for another kiss, this time making sure to enclose your clit in between his lips, rolling it against them lightly. You moaned loudly, your hands gripping into the sheets as you stared at him, unable to take your eyes off him and wondering what he was going to do next.

It was the next thing he did that made you realise you may actually come within two minutes’ flat. His tongue darting to flick against your bundle of nerves tentatively, as if he was testing the waters and the pleasure was divine. You couldn't help but buck your hips into his face as he repeated the action with force this time. You moaned again, the sound catching in your throat as you pushed your head back into the pillows, biting down on your bottom lip. You needed something to distract you from the immense pleasure you were feeling from barely any or his movements.

You were a mess. You knew it. But the moans and sighs fell from your mouth which each added pressure he gave you, his tongue now running circles around your clit, finding exactly what made you weak and using it to his advantage. He began to suck then, catching your bundle of nerves back and fore in his lips and your stomach clenched, the pleasure shooting up your body. Because of how slow he as being the feeling was more intense and it felt like your nerve ends were on fire. You were well aware of how warm his tongue felt on you, now flicking lightly against your clit as he sucked, and how hot his hands were pressed flush to the inside of his thighs. And you were well aware of the noises leaving your mouth, the mewls falling off your lips as your arched your back, desperate for more.

He pulled away then after one rather vigorous suck and you felt your clit begin to pulse in need. Everything was burning. You needed relief. You were wet, you were swollen and you needed to come, you could feel it in the tremble of your bones. Hoseok’s gaze was still burning a hole into your core as if he was mesmerised by it and he needed to remember every detail.

“Such a pretty, wet cunt,” he said, his voice sweet—a compliment.

His dirty words shouldn't have made you blush nor turned you on even more, but the drastic difference between pretty and a word so obscene just made your eyes roll back inside your head. You were losing the will to form coherent breaths, let alone words, so every breath that came out of you was hard and heavy, and when you felt him blow directly on your clit, your groaned, arching your back even more, embarrassingly horny. You even craved the cold shivery feeling that came with it, because it was Hoseok. And you wanted him.

Your felt two of his fingertips trace the outline of your entrance and you bucked involuntarily. You couldn't help it; your body had found a mind of its own and your walls began to clench down on nothing as you suddenly remembered he could pleasure you with more than just his tongue.

“You want my fingers?” He teased, and you felt him use one to circle around your hole, coating it in your arousal, and you whimpered, nodding your head vigorously.

It was crazy how much control he had over your pleasure right now, but it just made your desire even stronger. Imagining what his fingers could do to you as well as his tongue drove you wild and you grew brave, lifting your butt up to circle your hips, making his finger slide around, but not once did you feel it enter you. He was loving this, you could tell by the way he was smirking up at you. You wanted to kick him, or scream in frustration, but then you thought of something—something you knew he wouldn't be able to pass up.

“Hoseok,” you began, your voiced coated in sweetness. “Please will you give me your fingers? I really want to feel what they can do—I want you to make me cum.”

You didn't know where this confidence and voice had come from, but you were using it and it seemed to work. You watched Hoseok’s eyes practically roll back into his head and your stomach flipped in excited realisation. You had been so caught up in your own pleasure that it didn't hit you Hoseok could be just as turned on by this. You wanted to see if he was hard… If he got erect over kissing, he was definitely getting hard over eating you out.

And just like that, you felt one of his digits begin to slip inside of you, wriggling until he was knuckle deep. The stretch wasn't much obviously, but you felt it everywhere, your walls clenching down on it as he began to curl the tip of his finger, brushing against your g-spot.

Soon enough, one wasn't enough and you felt him add another, curling them experimentally before he began thrusting them straight inside of you, making you gasp out as he picked up a vigorous pace. You were finally being filled by something and it felt amazing.

“You're so tight, baby girl,” he murmured, his eyes moving from your heat to watch your face.

You moaned, pushing your back off the bed as you managed to break free from the hand Hoseok still had on your thigh to clamp your feet to the bed, your knees arched around him as he pulled back slightly, gaining more leverage to snap his wrist against you. Your legs were spread fully apart on their own accord now, not caring about modesty anymore, not when you were getting turned on by your own lewd noises that were leaving your drenched centre, the squelching ringing in your ears and your arousal coating his fingers. He was slipping out of you he was going so fast, and you were so wet.

“Are you sure you're gonna be able to take my cock when I fuck you one day?” He asked, and you groaned, his words making you clench around his hand.

You were only slightly aware that he'd now made it clear he wasn't going to fuck you tonight, but you were too past it to care by now. If you were this close to coming and this fucked out, you wouldn't even be able to look at his dick afterwards, let alone fuck it.

“I need to warm you up, right?” He taunted and you nodded, your mouth wide open as you gasped for air, his fingers still snapping away.

“I can take it, I can take it,” you repeated. Although you were aware you weren't making any sense at all.

He knew it too, because he chuckled, his fingers slowing down until he was curling them again, his two fingers pattering against your g-spot teasingly, and you tried to control your breathing with the much-needed break.

“You look like you're about to cum already,” he noticed, his gaze on your bare chest, watching your breast heave up and down, your nipples now harder than ever. “Have any other men made you feel like this before?”

“Only you,” you got out, shaking your head and he smirked at that.

As if he didn't already know anyway. He knew how crazy he drove you. You had down right asked him to fuck you last week. You had never been so direct. He had changed you, and you were loving every moment of the new, confident person you were becoming to be. You felt empowered—at the hands of a man. Who would have thought that was possible?

“I was going to wait, but I really want to see the pretty little faces you make when you cum,” he told you and you clenched once again at his words. He felt it and grinned.

“How do you want to come? My fingers?” He asked, leaning in to thrust a couple of times straight up inside of you and you moaned loudly, only for him to stop abruptly. “Or do you want my mouth?”

He cocked an eyebrow as he bent his head, never taking his eyes off you as he placed a lingering kiss atop your clit and it pulsed involuntarily against his lips. You could feel his fingers lodged inside of you and his mouth on you and the duel feeling was divine. You didn't want one or the other—you wanted both. You wanted to come clenching his hand and drenching his tongue. That was the only option.

“Can I have both, please?” You asked, smiling sweetly, your eyes hooded as you looked down at him, his lips still parted around your clit, before he smirked slowly and pulled away.

“Someone's greedy—but anything for you.”

And then he was back to fingering you, brushing against your walls and then you felt the first flick of tongue on your bundle of nerves, making your eyes roll back into your head, your body turning boneless. The double stimulation was like something out of this world. The roughness of each snap of his wrist followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue. It was everything. The best feeling in the world. And you never wanted it to stop.

“H-Hoseok—oh my god-d,” you moaned, one of your hands coming up to your face as the pleasure washed over you, every nerve in your body tingled and you bit down on the side of your wrist, groaning through your teeth.

“Please don't stop,” you begged, and your other hand fell to his head, weaving into his dark locks as you tried desperately to anchor him in place.

He seemed to like that, lapping at your sex like he was devouring it and you watched him with wide eyes. You couldn't look away. Which was strange to you because you used to think acts like these were embarrassing, but he looked so hot right now—his eyes blown out, all black, sweat forming on his temples and his hair messy and sticking up, especially with your fingers wound into it—you couldn't look away.

Your stomach tensed with pleasure as you continued to watch him, and he watched right back. The sounds coming from you filled the room—both from the friction of his fingers fucking back and forth into you and from his lips sucking your clit into his mouth while running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, and it just made you even wetter. You didn't think you'd ever been this turned on before, all your senses heightened and you finally lost the ability to look at Hoseok any longer when he growled against you, the vibrations travelling up your body and setting you on fire. You needed to close your eyes because otherwise you were going to explode.

“That's it, baby,” Hoseok soothed, pulling away for a moment and you took the time to let out a shuddering moan, not even realising you'd been holding your breath as the pleasure took over. “Just let go—cum for me. Cum all over me.”

You moaned again at his words, your thighs quaking around his shoulders as you tried to hold together the last piece of sanity you had left inside you. You could feel him everywhere, your whole body was burning and crying out for its release. You could feel every pump of his fingers and every flick of his tongue as he went back to eating you out, and your fingers ran through your damp hair, feeling your sticky forehead. How had you become this sweaty? How had you lost control this bad? But it was so sweet—it was heavenly.

“Your dripping down my wrist, you dirty girl,” he muttered against your heat. “I bet you've never been this wet before, have you?”

And you couldn't answer even if you wanted to. You couldn't form words, only shuddering breaths and loud moans as you gasped for air, your chest feeling tight. You could feel Hoseok’s tongue pressing into your clit before he was sucking harshly and your legs kept bucking to close around his head, his fingers now fucking you harder as cried out. You could feel everything but you couldn't see him, your head pushed back into the pillows and your eyes clenched shut.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he continued, talking you through your orgasm, because you definitely needed it.

You were on the edge, tipping off, but wanting to hold onto this feeling forever, but you knew if you did, your brain would blow up.

“You taste so good, better than I imagined. I could eat your pussy for the rest of my life.”

That was all you needed to let go. You didn't know why or how, but it was and just as Hoseok flicked his tongue across your clit a couple more times, your whole body stiffened, your stomach clenching as you held your breath, wanting the euphoria to last forever. You came hard and long, white stars flashing behind your clenched eyelids, and you were only slightly aware you were crying out, moans of complete pleasure leaving you as your toes curled into the mattress and his name left you sporadically, as if he was holding your weak body together.

You only become aware he’d pulled his fingers out of you when your body stopped burning and began to simmer, the buzzing in your veins making you feel as if you'd take some type of drug, making you feel relaxed and delirious. The way he kissed at your heat and made sure he had every last bit of your excess arousal cleaned up too, made you weaker at the knees and you whined and giggled weakly at the overstimulation, your knees closing around him to make him stop, and he looked up at you then, pulling away as you peaked one of your eyes open and let your hand flop to the bed. You still had your other had in his hair, but you didn't want to let go. You didn't want to let him go.

“That was…amazing,” he gushed, and just like that, the normal Hoseok was back.

No dirty words, no earth-shattering sexiness. Just handsome, cool and collected Hoseok.

“You're amazing,” he added, grinning at you as he made his way up to your face, crawling over your body as you finally let go of him—but only because you knew you could kiss him. Your mouths met in a passionate embrace, his tongue finding yours immediately as they moved together frantically, your hands running along his shoulders and back while his held your face and played with your hair. You couldn't control yourself. You were still on a high from your orgasm. It had messed you up not going physically, but emotionally and spiritually. You had no idea sex could be that it good—it wasn't even full sex yet. What would you be like when that time arose? You may die from the pleasure, because right now you couldn't think of anything that could top that. You felt like you were dreaming, your body moving as if it were floating and you never wanted it to stop. If you could live your life like this 24/7, you most definitely would. How lucky were you to meet a man like Hoseok? To just meet him, because you knew there was no one else in the world like him. He was one of a kind.

You suddenly realised he had been in his clothes all this time, and absentmindedly your hands dipped under his t-shirt, feeling the toned skin of his stomach. His skin was roasting hot and you realised, under all his steel resolve, he was a mess—just like you had been. You grew curious, rolling your hips up experimentally to his and you felt how hard he was straight away. He had been arching his body over you all this time, so you had no clue whilst kissing, but now you did, and he was even harder than the time at his. He was rock solid, in pain probably and he groaned into your mouth as you rubbed against him, his hands coming to your shoulders to hold you back and break away the kiss, his pupils still blown out and he watched between your legs as you continued to grind against his dick, his mouth parted in silent pleasure.

“Can it be my turn now?” You asked, willing him to say yes.

You knew sex was off the cards, but it wouldn't harm him if you paid him back for his gift to you. But he shook his head, as if waking himself up from a trance and he pulled his hips away from yours, breaking contact to kneel between your legs.

“It's not my turn yet,” he hummed, smiling faintly, although you could see he was too turned on to beg belief. “Next time.”

That's all he said and by the way he grunted it out made you think he was having a hard time not imagining it. You were too. You couldn't wait to see him like he'd seen you, to get him naked and touch him and taste him. You could feel the physical need to do such a thing ache your bones. You just wanted him, period. You were greedy, but you'd wait patiently. In the long run, it always worked out better anyway.

“I-I’m going to wash up and then I’ll get you a glass of water, okay?” He told you, and you blushed when you looked down at where he was looking, his wrist stained in your arousal. The rest must have been rubbed into your bed covers. You'd have to wash them tomorrow. Right now, you didn't care.

“You must be parched after that,” he added, and you saw him smirk as he got up, so obviously pleased with himself it practically shone off him.

In fact, as you heard him wash his hands and then go into the kitchen, you did realise you were incredibly thirsty. Your throat was dry and you were beginning to feel shivery, still bare on the bed. Before you could think about getting dressed again he came back in with a glass of icy water and a damp cloth. He sat down beside you on the edge of the bed and handed you the glass.

“Drink,” he instructed and you obeyed, taking it from him with a thank you and gulping down the liquid, thankful for it's refreshing taste.

“I needed that,” you sighed happily as you finished it. “I feel like I've just come back from the desert after a month.”

“Glad to know I have that effect on you,” he grinned, taking the glass and putting it on your nightstand before leaning down to place a peck on your lips.

You felt him grab something on the bed and realised when you the felt the dampness at your legs that it was the cloth. He was cleaning you up. For some reason your first instinct was to feel embarrassed, but then you realised you weren't. You didn't care. Your felt truly comfortable with Hoseok. He had given you the world’s most mind-blowing orgasm, said such dirty words, but then he had been sweet to you right after, kissed you, joked with you and looked after you. You didn't need to feel any shame. There was nothing to feel shame about. This was natural, and you even let him help you get dressed and tuck you into bed. This was cosy… and you didn't want him to leave.

You had never stayed over his even after all those evenings and nights spent there and obviously, he had never done the same here. You knew if you asked him to spend the whole night here he wouldn't do it… Maybe that would mean your relationship was something else…you didn't know. But you could ask him to stay a little longer. To keep you company until you slept.

“Can you stay for a while?” You asked, as he leant over you and you watched him think about it for second before he nodded.

“We can watch a movie and cool down for a bit,” he told you, getting up to switch the tv on.

It wasn't until he was lying beside you that you realised he really did need to cool down. He was still incredibly hard in his pants, even though he had obviously tried to hide when he was in the bathroom, but it was still visible along the inside of his thigh. The thought was enough to turn you on again, even more so when you noticed your arousal had dried clear along his crotch where you had rubbed up against him. It was crude, but you liked it, striking the difference of how bare you had been and how clothed he was. If you hadn't been so tired you would have definitely tried to change his mind about next time, but somehow you found yourself falling asleep, your head cuddling into his chest as he wrapped his arm around you.

You slept soundly, and when you woke up in the morning, you weren't surprised to see he had left in the middle of the night. You instantly wondered when you would see him next. Would that be the time he'd let you have your turn? Or would he tease you and take you out for lunch or dinner? If you were out in public, you couldn't do anything and that would kill you. Because now you had a taste of what could be and you never wanted it to stop. All your trepidation had fizzled out and now there was only excitement for what was to come.

You couldn't wait to return the favour.

It was a week later when you sucked his dick for the first time.

#hoseok smut #bts smut #kwritersnet #hoseok fanfic #bts fanfic #hoseok scenarios #bts scenarios #floralseokjin:writings #fic:aaysr

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mysterykidscasefiles · 7 years ago

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Mystery Kids: In Too Deep

Hi everyone! I’m back!

Here is another short oneshot I’ve been working on! Don’t worry, the next chapter of the Whispering Rock fic will be out soon. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

Also, I just want to say, the ending of this fic took DAYS to get right. So many rewrites. In the end, my best friend had to help point me in the right direction.

WARNING! Dipper’s real name is hinted (very very small hint, if you blink you miss it kind of thing) at in this fic near the end. Just wanted to give a small warning because I think someone asked me to do that.

Summary: Dipper finds something in the journal that he thinks will interest Raz. There seems to be an entry on breaking curses.

AO3 Link

List of fics

Mystery Kids: In Too Deep

Time period: First Summer

Dipper stared down at his journal, but he needn’t bother. He already knew the words as he recited them over and over, his lips moving along to each syllable. He had done his research into old languages, he was confident he could pronounce everything correctly. He knew the spell from front to back; there was no way he could make a mistake.

He looked up from the journal to the other kids seated in front of the TV in the Mystery Shack living room. A superhero movie’s credits rolled on the TV screen while a popular song played in the background. The kids sat close together, ignoring credits in favor of talking with each other. Coraline, Lili and Raz seemed to be planning tomorrow’s events, Mabel and Norman were engrossed in a conversation about the movie, and Wybie was explaining something to Neil that he knew far too much about.

Dipper hadn’t known these other kids for long, and he usually didn’t warm up to people very fast, but there was something about surviving horrific life and death situations together that created instant bonds.

Dipper looked back down at his journal. He wanted to help his friend. He didn’t know if it was possible, but if there was even a slim chance that this would work, shouldn’t he take it?

Dipper took a deep breath and snapped the journal closed.

Standing up from his seat on the floor, he walked towards where Raz, Lili and Coraline were sitting.

“Hey… Raz?” Dipper said hesitantly.

Raz turned in his direction. “What’s up, Dipper? Finally coming out of that book to join us?” Raz said with a teasing smirk.

“Yeah, sort of. About the journal…” Dipper trailed off awkwardly. Raz must have realized that something was off, because he was giving Dipper a strange look. Had Raz been reading his mind? Dipper groaned mentally at the prospect. Raz usually didn’t read his friend’s minds on purpose, but like a leaky valve, every so often thoughts would trickle through whether Raz wanted them to or not. For Dipper, this was probably the most challenging part about being friends with Raz. He hated the idea of someone else reading his private thoughts.

Raz’s smile faltered. “What about the journal?”

“I thought you might be interested to know that there is a page in here about breaking curses.” Dipper gestured awkwardly to the journal.

Raz’s eyes widened and the room fell silent. All eyes turned to Dipper and Raz.

“You’re… you’re serious?” Raz asked, slowly coming out of his initial stupor.

Dipper shrugged. “I don’t know if it will work. I’ve never tried to break a curse before, and yours seems really strong if it affects your whole family. I’m not even sure if I have the right spell to break it…” Dipper felt like he was rambling now. “Or if it can even be broken by a spell, but… I mean, there is a chance it could work.”

Raz didn’t seem to be able to speak. He just kept staring up at Dipper, his mouth hanging open.

“What happens if it doesn’t work?” Lili asked.

“Nothing happens,” Dipper answered. “It’s not dangerous to try, unless I get the words wrong, but I won’t get them wrong,” he insisted. “If it doesn’t work, then nothing will change.”

“Is this a good idea?” Wybie asked. “Messing with magic doesn’t seem very smart. How do you know you can even use magic anyway?”

“I told you I’ve used a spell to raise an army of the undead before, right?” Dipper rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “It didn’t work out the way I planned, but that’s beside the point. It seems like almost anyone can do magic if they have the right words. I’ve been studying this spell and I know I can pronounce it correctly, but-.”

“But you don’t know if it will work,” Coraline finished for him.

“Exactly. It’s up to Raz if he-”

“Let’s do it,” Raz said suddenly, jumping to his feet.

“Really?”

“Yeah! From what you’ve said there’s no risk, right? You know how to perform the spell or you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

Raz was right about that. Dipper had been planning this for weeks. He didn’t want to say anything until he could be absolutely sure he could use the spell on his friend without hurting him.

“And I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if we don’t at least try,” Raz finished.

Dipper nodded numbly. “O-okay, I just have to get the potion ready. It should be done by tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, wait, potion?” Lili asked, getting to her feet. “What exactly are you feeding my boyfriend, Pines?”

“Yeah, Bro-bro,” Mabel said. “I trust you when it comes to journal stuff, but you aren’t exactly a master in the kitchen. Anything you make should be tested first.”

Dipper sighed and rolled his eyes. “If this is about the time I made pancakes, I didn’t know the cookbook was cursed, okay? Anyone could have made that mistake!”

“Umm, guys?” Norman interrupted. “Maybe Dipper can show us what’s going to be in this potion? I think that will make everyone feel better.”

“Right,” Dipper agreed. “It’s surprisingly normal kitchen stuff. We need a lot of vinegar for some reason. Oh, and some of Raz’s hair.”

Raz wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Sorry, there is always one weird ingredient. Be lucky it’s your own hair. A surprising number of the potions in here ask for gnome beard hair.”

“Oh, I have some of that!” Mabel volunteered happily.

Dipper raised an eyebrow at his sister. “Yes, and as disgusted as I am that you kept that, you should hold onto it, because apparently it’s a valuable ingredient.”

“Weird,” Mabel said.

Lili raised an eyebrow at her. “No, the weird part is that you kept the hair not knowing it was useful.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Neil volunteered. “I can find the ingredients for the potion.”

“Sure,” Dipper said. “The potion will need to chill overnight but you can help me prepare it.” Dipper glanced at the girl reading intently over his shoulder. “And Lili can stand there silently judging everything I do because she thinks I’m going to poison Raz.”

Raz chuckled. “It’s how she shows she cares.” He paused, glancing over at the journal himself. “But seriously, I would appreciate it if you didn’t poison me.”

“Well… here it is,” Dipper said as he handed a Mystery Shack mug filled with black liquid over to Raz.

“Well, that looks appetizing,” Coraline remarked sarcastically.

Hesitantly, Raz took the cold mug which had been chilling in the refrigerator overnight.

He sniffed the mug and made a face, sticking out his tongue in disgust. “This smells awful!”

“Oh! Let me smell it!” Mabel took the mug from him, and after sticking her nose into the cup, gagged and held it away from her as if it had physically assaulted her. “Yuck! That’s gross!”

Of course, after that, everyone had to sniff it for themselves.

“Are you sure you said the words right?” Lili challenged, eyeing the mug distrustfully as she passed it back to Raz.

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ve been studying this stuff. You can trust me, we did everything a hundred percent right. Neil and Mabel even got fresh ingredients at the store, which wasn’t necessary but is recommended.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, my bro is the most detailed oriented person there is, and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Raz.”

Lili didn’t look happy (though she rarely did) but this answer seemed to appease her.

“Well, as disgusting as this looks, I trust you,” Raz said, eyeing the mug unhappily. “And if this breaks my family’s curse, then no matter how disgusting it tastes, it will be worth it.”

Raz brought the mug closer to his lips.

“Wait!” Dipper shouted, causing Raz to pause and glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

“What is it?”

“It’s just…” Dipper hesitated, rubbing his upper arm nervously. “You know this might not work, right? The spell might not be strong enough or it might be the wrong kind. You just… shouldn’t get your hopes up. There’s a good chance it won’t work.”

Raz lowered the mug slightly and shook his head. A grin forming at the corners of his mouth.

“I know, Dipper. I get that it’s a long shot. But thanks to you, I get to at least try. And if it doesn’t work then… then I’m no worse off than I was before,” he said with a shrug. “So… here is goes…” He held the mug up and flashed Dipper a grin. “Cheers.”

With one swift movement, Raz downed the entirety of the mug.

The other kids watch, their eyes wide, as Raz finished draining the last of the liquid and began to lower the mug.

Suddenly, Raz froze, his body growing rigid. His hand flew to his mouth as he began coughing violently.

“Raz!”

The mug in his other hand fell towards the floor, but there was no crash.

Lili caught the mug in the air with her psychic powers out of reflex, but her attention was on Raz. She hovered over him in concern, one hand on his shoulder.

Raz seemed to push back another cough as he swallowed the rest of the liquid in his mouth. Raz attempted to take a breath, now that his mouth was free, but he erupted immediately in another fit of coughs.

“What’s going on?” Neil asked, panicked. “Is he okay?”

“Raz? What’s wrong?” Dipper asked, his voice rising to a higher register. “Are you okay? What do you feel?”

Raz nodded as he continued to cough. His watering eyes only made Dipper worry more.

“F-fine,” Raz managed to get out between coughs. “Just-“

Raz blinked as a glass of water was shoved under his nose, courtesy of Mabel.

Raz let out another spluttering cough as he took the glass from Mabel’s hand and drank it eagerly, pausing to cough only a few times before the liquid was completely gone.

“Thanks,” Raz said as he cleared his throat. He put the empty glass on the counter. “I’m fine. That stuff just tasted nasty.”

Dipper’s shoulders drooped in relief. The other kids let out their own relieved sighs.

“How do you feel?” Wybie asked. “Any different?”

Raz paused. He flexed his fingers and his eyes fell to the floor in concentration. After a second, he looked up. “Other than the fact that the potion destroyed my taste buds for life, I don’t feel any different.”

“So how do we know if it worked?” Lili asked. “We can’t just throw Raz into the lake to see if he drowns.”

“Yeah, Pines, what’s the plan?” Coraline said as all eyes fell on Dipper.

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh, well… about that…”

“I can’t believe you are throwing me into the lake to see if I drown,” Raz said irritably as Wybie strapped him into the self-made harness.

“Don’t worry, I got this all planned out,” Dipper assured him. “If anything happens, we will all pull on the rope and get you out. Wybie hooked up a pulley system, and if that doesn’t work for some reason, Lili will grab you with her psychic powers. If anything happens, think of us as your safety net.”

“Circus metaphor. Nice,” Raz said as he fidgeted with the harness. “At least I’m getting some use out of these stupid swim trunks I bought as part of my under cover. I never thought they would get any real use.”

“Hopefully they will get a lot more use after this too!” Mabel said optimistically.

Raz smiled at the thought, but Dipper noticed the way his eyes darted nervously to the water.

“Raz already tried getting close to the water and that hand-thingy didn’t appear,” Neil said. “Doesn’t that mean it worked?”

“It’s a good sign,” Coraline said. “But we won’t know if it worked for sure until Raz gets into the water.”

“Do you think the curse is trying to trick us?” Norman asked. “Can it do that?”

“Don’t know,” Dipper said. “But better safe than drowned.” He turned to Wybie. “Did you check to make sure the pulley system is secure on the tree?”

Wybie scoffed. “This pulley system is my own design. I did more than just fasten it to the tree. I also used my own variation of a threefold purchase to-”

“That’s Wybie-speak for yes,” Coraline confirmed while placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Lili said while biting her thumbnail.

“It’s probably not,” Raz said with a grin. “But you’ll be there to pull me out if I get in over my head… uhh, literally.”

Lili’s hand settled on her hip, a smile on her lips. “Yeah, and what else is new, Aquato?”

“Okay, I think we’re ready,” Dipper said while pulling out his list one more time. “Coraline and Wybie are in charge of the pulley system. Everyone will follow their lead if we need to pull Raz out. Lili, you’re stationed by the water ready with your telekinesis.”

Not even Lili made a snarky comment about being told what to do as she and the rest of the Mystery Kids got into position.

“And Raz…” Dipper looked over at the boy. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright, here goes everything.” Raz said as he pulled his goggles down over his eyes.

Dipper watched worriedly as Raz approached the lakeside. He had to admit, Raz did look pretty cool as he stepped into the water without a hint of trepidation. If Dipper didn’t know any better, he would think the kid was fearless. However, Dipper did know better. He knew Raz was good at putting on a show, not just for them, but also for himself.

Raz was knee deep in the water now, and still there was no reaction from his curse. Surely the curse would have tried to pull him in by now, right? Hope began to rise in Dipper’s chest as Raz continued to walk deeper and deeper into the lake.

”It… it looks like it worked.” Wybie said in amazement. “You actually did it.”

“Great job, Dip!” Mabel said with a laugh. “Now we don’t have to worry about-“

She stopped short, her eyes growing wide as she stared out onto the lake.

Instantly, Dipper saw what she was looked at. A huge, watery hand, at least triple the size of the hands that usually haunted Raz, had breached the surface of the lake and was hovering in front of the boy, like a serpent ready to strike.

Raz took a fearful step back, but the water was already up to his stomach, and he would never make it to land on time.

“Oh… crap,” Raz breathed.

The hand of Galochio lunged. It wrapped it’s long fingers around Raz’s torso and yanked him under.

The rope attached to his harness hissed as it was harshly yanked out of Wybie’s hands, and without any force to stop it, spun uncontrollably out of the pulley.

“The rope!” Dipper yelled, and Wybie made a dash for it.

Wybie cried out in pain as he managed to catch the rope, but his hand was stuck between the rope and the pulley. Thankfully, he was wearing gloves and despite almost crushing his hand, he managed to hold on. Coraline grabbed the end of the rope and gave it a substantial tug, freeing Wybie.

“I thought you had the safety on!” she yelled.

“I had to turn it off to give him some more slack!” Wybie shouted back. “We have to pull him out!” Cradling his injured hand to his chest, Wybie gave the rope a strong tug with his other hand, but it barely budged.

“We have to do it together,” Norman shouted as he, Neil, and Mabel grabbed the rope and begun to pull.

“Lili, can you pull him out?” Dipper shouted.

Lili was knee deep in the water, a hand to her temple, the other hand outstretched over the water.

“I-I think I have him, but it’s pulling him down so hard, I can’t-“

“Just keep trying!” Dipper shouted as he moved to join the other kids at the end of the rope.

“Pull on three!” Coraline shouted. “One, two, three!”

The kids yanked, pulling the rope back no more than a foot. It was working, but slowly.

“It- it almost seemed mad,” Neil said as he huffed. “Like… like the curse knew he tried to get rid of it.”

“One, two, three!” Coraline shouted and they pulled again.

“Focus, guys,” Dipper said. “We can’t think about that right now. We have to-”

“Again, one, two, three!” They yanked, but this time they lost their footing as they all went flying back. The rope going slack.

“What happened?” Mabel asked.

Coraline gave the rope a few more generous pulls before the harness that should have been attached to Raz was pulled out of the water.

“It… it undid his harness!” Neil shouted.

“No… that’s not possible. He must have just… slipped out somehow,” Wybie reasoned.

Dipper ran to the water’s edge. “Lili, where is he?”

“I- I still have him! He’s not far! He’s… No!”

“What? What is it?”

“No, no, no! I lost him!” Lili cried. “He was moving too fast, and I couldn’t focus! I think he’s unconscious now, so it’s harder to track him!”

“You said he wasn’t far, right?” Dipper asked as he kicked off his shoes. “I have an idea. Use this!” He threw his hat at her.

She caught it, staring down at it in surprise as Dipper ran into the water. He disappeared beneath the surface. The murky water stung his eyes, but his vision began to clear as he swam deeper.

According to Lili, Raz wasn’t far, and the curse didn’t need to carry him far away. It only needed to pull him down.

As the sediment in the water settled, Dipper was able to get a clearer view of the bottom, but he still didn’t see Raz.

That way! Lili’s voice rang through his head. He could feel her in his mind, looking through his eyes. He was glad she managed to figure out what he meant when he had thrown her his hat. Having something of his would make clairvoyance easier, and she would be able to track him no matter how far out he had to go.

Dipper followed her advice and swam further from shore.

To your left! I sensed him disappear somewhere around there! Lili shouted.

Dipper winced at how loud she was in his head. She was panicking and Dipper couldn’t blame her. This was all his fault. If he had never suggested that they try to break the curse, they wouldn’t be in this situation.

Dipper swam to the left, his eyes scanning the bottom of the lake. What if Raz’s curse pulled him farther out? Would Dipper ever find him? Already, Dipper could feel pressure build in his lungs, but he couldn’t go up for air now. The longer Dipper took to find him, the more likely Raz would…

Come on, come on, Dipper’s own thoughts repeated in his mind on a loop. Come on… please…

There! Lili screamed in his head. Raz!

Startled, Dipper squinted down at the lake floor. Sure enough, something metallic caught his eye just a few feet to his left. Raz’s metal goggles were still strapped to his unconscious head as he lay motionless at the bottom of the lake.

The hand of Galochio was nowhere in sight, perhaps because it had already accomplished its goal.

Dipper hastily swam over to his unconscious friend and wrapped his arm tightly around his waist. He pushed off of the lake floor and sped towards the surface. His lungs burned and he kicked his feet to go faster. Raz weighed almost nothing in his arms, but still, their rise to the surface was dauntingly slow.

Suddenly, their speed picked up as Dipper felt Lili’s psychic grasp wrap around him and pull them upwards.

He looked up and could see the sun shining through the surface of the water. His lungs were ready to burst, but he could wait just a few more seconds… just a few more…

Dipper nearly gasped as Raz was yanked downwards and almost pulled out of his hands. Dipper gripped the boy tighter in panic. He looked down to see a dark watery hand wrapping itself around Raz’s leg.

They were at a standstill. Dipper could feel Lili struggle to pull them upwards, but the hand of Galochio’s sturdy grip on Raz was immovable.

Dipper kicked with all his might. His chest bursting with the need to breathe. He could feel himself grow lightheaded. If Dipper passed out now they would lose Raz again, this time maybe for good.

Dipper, hold on to Raz tightly, got it? Lili instructed, but she didn’t need to tell him. Dipper already had a death grip around his Raz’s waist. It would take more than just some curse to take his friend away from him.

Give me back my boyfriend you stupid hand! Lili shouted. Lili’s presence in his head increased. He could feel all of Lili’s fear and desperation pour into him. He was rising again, faster this time. Dipper could feel the hand of Galochio pulling at Raz’s foot, but as long as Dipper held on, it was no match for Lili’s power.

Dipper broke the surface, breathing in deep gulps of fresh air.

They were flying above the water and towards the shore. The hand of Galochio had retreated back into the water, leaving behind a harmless, tranquil lake.

Lili had pulled them out of the lake so fast, they barely had time to slow down before Raz and Dipper landed hard on the lake shore.

Dipper had the air knocked out of his lungs as he landed on his back, his eyes staring up at the sky, unfocused. He tried to breathe, but his body convulsed, and he curled into himself as he began to cough.

To his right, Dipper vaguely heard the sound of coughing, gagging and someone trying desperately to inhale as much air as possible while their body tried to expel water from their lungs. The hard fall from the air may have expelled some of the water from Raz’s airways.

He also heard the other kids shouting Raz’s name worriedly. He desperately wanted to turn and look to see if his friend was okay, but his weak arms were shaking too much to lift himself off the ground. After a few more deep breaths, he was able to clear the dizziness from his his head.

He felt a hand on his shoulder grab him and lift him into a sitting position. He blinked up at the person helping him, and Mabel’s worried eyes stared down at him.

Dipper managed to sit up, leaning heavily on his sister. He looked over at Raz, who was laying on his side, breathing in air greedily. He seemed to have expelled most of the water in his lungs now, but just when it seemed like Raz could breathe uninterrupted, his body would convulse into a series of violent coughs.

Dipper just stared blankly at his friend, his whole body numb.

Raz had almost died, and not because of some monster or during a mission as a psychonaut, but because of him.

He felt so stupid. Of course he couldn’t break Raz’s curse. Dipper had no idea what he had been doing, and he had tried anyway.

Dipper’s eyes widened in shock when he heard Raz let out a small laugh. Raz was lying flat on the ground staring up at the sky as the other kids kneeled beside him.

“Well, I guess that was a bust,” Raz said and let out another chuckle, and then- “Ow!”

Raz rubbed his sore arm as he looked over at his girlfriend.

Lili pulled her arm back to her side after landing a substantial punch to Raz’s arm. “Do you think this is funny?” she snapped angrily.

Raz gave her a sheepish smile as he began to sit up. “Sorry,” he apologized, and reached over to give her hand a squeeze. “But I’m okay,” he whispered.

Lili scowled and looked away. Dipper wasn’t sure if Lili was mad at Raz for putting himself in danger in the first place, for joking about it, or both. Come to think of it, Lili was probably pissed at Dipper too, since it had been his idea. He really couldn’t blame her.

Dipper leaned away from Mabel to sit up on his own. “I’m sorry,” Dipper said quietly.

Raz couldn’t make it all the way up to a sitting position, so he settled for resting on his left forearm. He raised an eyebrow at Dipper. “What are you sorry for?” Raz asked. “It’s not your fault it didn’t work.”

Dipper shrugged, only now realizing how heavy his shoulders were. “I’m sorry I even suggested it. I should have known it wouldn’t work. This is my fault.”

Lili turned on him, her eyes alight. She got to her feet, causing her to tower over him. Dipper felt his mouth go dry.

“Did you know it wouldn’t work?” Lili demanded, her hands on her hips.

“N-No, of course not! But it was stupid to think it would. I shouldn’t have even-“

“Raz is a Psychonaut,” Lili interrupted, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “He’s responsible for his own decisions, no matter how stupid and reckless they are.”

“Yeah, but-” Dipper continued in frustration, but was cut off.

“You warned him it might not work.” Lili continued with a scowl. “We all knew it might not, which is why we tried to prepare in case it didn’t.”

“But we should have been more prepared!” Dipper pressed. “I should have had a better plan to test if the spell worked. I didn’t think he would get pulled out of his harness.”

Lili sighed, her scowl softening, but only for a moment. Dipper saw a flash of blue and felt something soft rest upon his head. He reached up and touched the brim of his hat. He hadn’t even noticed she still had it.

Lili shook her head. “You can’t be prepared for everything, duffus. Sometimes shit just happens, and we have to deal with it.”

“Umm… guys? If I can have a say in this?” Raz ventured.

Lili shot him an annoyed look, but didn’t say anything.

“First off, I’m pretty sure you saved my life,” Raz pointed out. “So even though your original backup plans didn’t work, I would say that you dealt with it pretty well.”

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, Lili did most of the saving.”

“That’s not how Lili tells it,” Raz said. “She would have never been able to get me out of the water if it wasn’t for you, so… thanks.” When Dipper raised an eyebrow in confusion, Raz pointed to his head in explanation.

Ah, telepathy.

“Yeah, it was really cool!” Neil added enthusiastically. “You just jumped in the water with no hesitation!”

“That’s my brother,” Mabel said, attempting to nuggie him over his hat.

Dipper pushed her away with little success, her arm still finding a way to stay around his shoulder.

“And just so you know, I don’t regret it,” Raz said. “Even though it didn’t work, I’m glad we still tried.”

“Seriously?” Coraline asked. “Even though it almost killed you?”

“Well… yeah,” Raz said with a shrug. “I got to try to break my family’s curse. That was more than I ever hoped for, and sure, it didn’t work, but maybe one day we will find a spell that will work. If we do, I hope you will help me with it. I uh, wouldn’t trust anyone else.”

Dipper froze. Again? Raz wanted him to go through that again?

Raz’s smile wavered in concern. “Dipper? Are you okay?”

“Yeah… yeah…” Dipper began, and suddenly he found that he couldn’t look his friend in the eye. “I’m just thinking about all of this. Everything that happened, and I’m sorry about how it turned out.”

“Dipper, we’ve been over this. It’s not your fault it didn’t work.”

Dipper shook his head. “No, not that. I just know how important it was to you and I’m just… sorry it didn’t work.”

“Oh…” Raz said softly. “Yeah… me too.”

When Dipper looked back at Raz, he was no longer looking at him, but back out towards the lake.

“You know,” Raz continued. “For a moment there, I really thought it was going to work. I really thought-” He cut himself off with an empty, humorless laugh. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Back to square one, right?”

“A-About that,” Dipper said hesitantly. “Raz, what happened today… that was really bad. If Lili hadn’t spotted you, I might have been too late. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Raz had almost died today. How could he be a part of that again? Raz might have been brave enough to risk his own life, but Dipper wasn’t brave enough to put his friend’s life at risk.

But then he saw Raz’s eager expression fall. His friend had still been so hopeful that they would still be able to find a cure, even after almost losing his life today. Then, Dipper realized something. Raz didn’t have a choice. The curse would kill him either way. He would either eventually drown like the curse predicted, or he could risk his life and try to break it.

Raz didn’t choose to risk his life today because he wanted to. He did it because he had to.

This also explained Lili’s attitude towards the whole thing. She usually didn’t like letting them take unnecessary risks, but she had supported Raz with trying to break his curse, even if she had been protective and grumpy the entire time.

Dipper was terrified he would fail again, and maybe next time, they wouldn’t be able to save Raz. It scared Dipper that he would get it wrong and let Raz down, but not as much as finally realizing that if he did nothing, the curse would kill his friend anyway.

Raz sighed. “I had a feeling you would say that, and you’re right. It’s not fair of me to ask you to go through that again, especially since even if you find another spell, there is no guarantee that it will work. This is my problem to deal with. It’s not right for me to involve you guys.”

“No, that’s not…” Dipper trailed off in frustration. “It’s not just your problem to deal with, and I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” Dipper swept his wet hair away from his forehead, pushing it back into his hat in a nervous gesture, unknowingly almost exposing his birthmark. “It’s true that I don’t want to ever go through that again, but I was so wrapped up in my own fear of making a mistake, that I wasn't thinking properly. There is only one way to make sure you never get that close to drowning again.”

“How?” Raz asked.

“We have to break your curse.”

Raz stared, his mouth parting in surprise. “But if we try and it doesn’t work-”

“Then we’ll deal with it, and we will keep dealing with it until we get it right.” Dipper said with renewed determination. Lili was right. Sometimes shit just happened.

“But this isn’t right. I can’t expect you to-”

“Let’s see... risking our lives, dealing with the supernatural, and getting in too deep with something we barely understand.” Dipper counted each item off on his fingers. “Sound familiar? We’re the Mystery Kids, it’s what we do.”

Raz let out an incoherent noise that was a mix of bewilderment and stunned laughter.

“But if we are going to do this, we are going to do this right,” Dipper said. “I thought I had already accounted for all the possible things that could go wrong, but I underestimated your curse. Next time we will be even more prepared. Also, we can’t just try out random spells the author left behind. We should research curses more, and see if we can learn anything about the Galochio family.”

“Maybe there are other things that can break curses besides just spells,” Coraline said. “Knowing Gravity Falls, there are things that are even more powerful than an ancient family curse.”

“Like a magical wish granting lemur!” Mabel supplied.

“Or just a normal wish granting genie,” Wybie added.

“Or that, for those of us that hate imagination,” Mabel said while elbowing Wybie playfully.

Wybie winced and attempted to rub his shoulder inconspicuously.

“I can ask some of the older ghosts and see if they know anything about curses,” Norman supplied. “I think some of the ghosts used to be part of different secret societies, like the Masons.”

Dipper winced but recovered quickly. “It might take a while, maybe even a few years to figure this out, but with all of us working on it, I think we have a chance.”

“Thank you,” Raz said suddenly. “Even if it turns out to be impossible, just... thank you all for at least trying.”

“Silly Raz,” Mabel said with a giggle. “Haven’t you been living in Gravity Falls long enough to know? Here, nothing is impossible.”

I hoped you guys liked this! Reblog, like or send me a message if you did!

#mystery kids #Mystery Kids Case Files #coraline #gravity falls #in too deep

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