i'll never understand people who act all snooty about women who like "childish" scents. fuck you i love my cotton candy body spray and my cupcake scented deodorant and my marshmallow claire's perfume.

Daisies

His crown is made of daisies, his heart was made for you

Female reader

Ao3 Link

The Princess's knight was one of high pedigree. His father was a royal guard, his father’s father, his grandfather’s father, his family was the royal guard. Royal Guard ran in the man's blood. Which is why you were confused when he gave you a second glance.

You were Princess Zelda's hand maid. Really it was just a title, the Princess rarely needed or wanted help with the things you should do, such as helping her dress, doing her hair, she preferred to do it herself. That was something you admired about the princess; she took her life in her own hands. You were surprised she had heeded her father’s wishes of having an appointed knight.

When you saw the man following closely behind her you were even more surprised. That was Link, the son of Arn, the captain of the Royal Guard. You stepped out of the way of the Princess, bowing your head in the typical sign of respect.

"(y/n), how are you today?" She paused to ask. You lifted your head with a smile.

"I'm well Princess, and you?" You said kindly. She smiled.

"I'm doing very well." You heard a low huff from Link, and Zelda turned to him before rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure you know Link, (y/n)." She spoke. Link nodded his head slightly and you returned the nod with a curtsey.

"I've heard his name spoken, it's a pleasure to meet you." You said. He met your gaze evenly before turning his head away and scanning the corridor you were currently in. He surely was paranoid.

"Well, I should be heading off, have a lovely day." The princess said, turning back down the hall. You watched them go, paying close attention to Link. You wondered how things would change with him around the Princess more often.

***

As the months went on you grew closer to Link. He didn't talk very much, preferring to focus on his task of protecting the princess, but when the Princess was studying the guardians and the ancient technology you could often find him sitting a few feet away in the grass. He was more inclined for company then.

More often than not it was you talking to him, with little response. You would talk about your day, memories of the Princess, of her mother, you had managed to pull his age from him at one point. You had an inkling he was older than 18, but he confirmed he was in fact 20. The same age as you were. He was surprisingly stoic for someone so young, but you supposed that came from having Arn as his father. The man was not an easy one to impress.

"She seems to enjoy this technology." You said, plucking daisies from the grass and twisting them into a crown. You had made one for yourself already, you weren't sure why you were making another. You watched as Link pulled a daisy from the grass, pulling the tie from his hair and shaking it out. He tucked the daisy behind his ear so it nestled in his hair. You reached out tentatively, brushing your fingers through his blonde locks. He scooted back so he was sitting closer to you, pulling another daisy from the grass and handing it to you. You picked up his hint, slightly surprised.

You began to braid daisies into his hair, twisting the braids around the stems of the flowers to create a crown of daisies in his hair. He sat patiently, allowing you to put as many daisies as your heart desired. You looked up to see the Princess examining one of the guardians with Robbie at her side.

"I don't understand why, but it makes her happy." You said as you stopped braiding Lin's hair. It was now full of daisies and small braids. You toyed with the daisy crown you had set in in your lap, looking to Link to see him looking at the crown. He nodded to the crown sitting in your lap before tilting his head towards you. You set the crown atop his head, adjusting it so it was nestled into his blonde hair.

He sat up straight again, adjusting his position to hold his head high, wearing the daisies with pride. He remained silent for the rest of your "conversation," and when the time came for him to accompany the princess into the castle again, he stood carefully to keep the daisy chain on his head. As he walked away he turned back to you, giving you a small smile before following the princess into the building.

It grew from that moment. As you passed each other in the stairwell he would catch your hand, bringing it to his face to inhale the perfume on the inside of your wrist, and press a soft kiss to your knuckles before releasing it and following behind Zelda once again. A quick moment that left with heat burning in your cheeks for the rest of the day.

Sometimes, after the princess was sound asleep in her room, while he was supposed to be keeping watch outside the door, he would come find you. Often you were in the servants’ chambers, washing clothes or dishes, sometimes you would simply be relaxing. You weren't sure how he found the entrances; they were meant to be secret, but you supposed having grown up in the castle he had found nearly every secret there was in the old building.

Often times he would stand behind you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed while you did you chores. His presence was comforting to you. He was someone to talk to when the other maids and cooks had gone to sleep. You started waiting up later and later for him, hoping he would make it a regular thing to come see you.

And he had. Every night he would come see you. He started coming sooner, staying later each night, walking you to your room to leave a kiss on the back of your hand before disappearing down the hall like a ghost.

"Link has seemed more distracted lately, I'm not sure what's gotten into him." Princess Zelda had said to you one day while you helped her re-organize her closet. She had been given gifts from the champions and wanted to keep them nicely organized. You hummed as you thought of Link, his lips on your skin, how warm his hands were when he held your own, how strong they were yet how soft his touch was.

"I wonder if it's Mipha." The princess mused aloud. You froze for a moment, running your hand over the opal circlet that was a gift from the Zoran champion. You wondered what she could mean.

"(y/n) I'm going to tell you something and you must promise to tell no one." The Princess said, laying across her bed with her chin in her hands as she looked at you. You poked your head out of her closet, giving her a solemn nod.

"I swear on my life Princess, I won't tell a soul." You said as you crossed your heart before disappearing back into the closet to move the Rito dress to a more desirable location.

"Mipha recently told me she made a set of armor for Link." Zelda said, sounding distressed. You tilted your head, wracking your brain. Why did that feel so significant?

"Oh, forgive me, I forget you probably don't know as much about Zora. They are quite secretive." Zelda said. You heard the bed shift before she appeared in the doorway of the closet.

"Zoran Princess's make a set of Zoran armor for their future husbands! To propose!" She exclaimed. At those words you nearly dropped the topaz bracelet Urbosa had gifted the Princess. Propose? To Link? You had met Mipha, you didn't think she was his type, but you knew you couldn't compete with the Zoran champion.

"I don't know what to do (y/n), I love Link I just don't know how to tell him." She said softly. At those words you did drop the bracelet. It landed on the floor with a clatter and you scrabbled to pick it up.

"I'm sorry Princess, I, it slipped." You said, standing and facing her. She took your hands gently in her own.

"It's alright, nothing was damaged." She said. You looked up at her and saw concern painting her features. She placed her hand against your cheek, still holding your hands in one of her own.

"Are you feeling alright? You look pale." She said. She guided you out of the closet, gently taking the bracelet and setting it on her bedside table before leading you to the door.

"You should go rest, you look sick. I can handle the rest of this." She said softly before dismissing you. You bowed your head before stepping out of the door. Link was standing against the door, head turned to look at you as you left the room. He was standing with his feet spaced apart, back straight, arms folded in front of him. He looked strong, you could see why Mipha and the Princess pined for him. You shook your head with tears in your eyes before walking towards the servants’ quarters. You could hear Link's boots on the stone floor. You could imagine him struggling to choose between following you and guarding the princess.

He stayed, in the end. He remained with the princess to fulfill his duty to protect her. But you could have predicted that yourself.

***

That night he came down to the servants’ quarters at the same time as always. You had tried to finish your chores early, so you could avoid him, but he caught you while you were washing up the dishes. You refused to speak to him, to even acknowledge he was standing behind you.

You angrily scrubbed at the plates and bowls, stacking them on the drying rack next to you to dry before they could be replaced. One of the plates slipped out of your hands, breaking into pieces. You reached down to pick up the pieces only to have the palm of your hand sliced open. You let out a hiss and pulled your hand from the water. Great, now you would have to rewash all the plates left in the basin. You examined the cut on your hand that was oozing blood, looking for a towel to press to it.

Link stepped forward, gently taking your hand in his own. You resisted the urge to pull away as he turned your hand palm up, taking the white kerchief from his pocket and wrapping it around your hand and tying a neat little knot on the back of your hand to cover your wound. He lifted your hand to his own, kissing your knuckles again before looking up into your eyes. You swore you could drown in his deep blue eyes. You could drown in him, his presence even.

"Mipha made you a set of armor." You whispered softly as you looked into his eyes. He seemed confused, before it clicked for him. He remained silent.

"And the princess, she has feelings for you as well." You said, pulling your hand away from his and turning back to where the plate had broken, carefully removing the pieces and setting them off to the side.

"You would be a fool to reject either one of them." You said as you continued your work. He was silent behind you, but you could tell he was there by the warmth that radiated from him. You could even tell he had stepped closer, could hear his breaths beside you.

"And I know I can't compete with royalty, so please, just tell me what to expect." You said. You doubted he would speak on the matter. You had sprung this on him so suddenly, he would of course need time to think.

"Should I be prepared for the princess’s wedding, or one of the Zoran princess's?" You asked him. He was silent. You let your shoulders sag. You knew he wouldn't respond, but, you had hoped.

Link reached towards you, gently resting his fingertips on your jaw to turn your head towards him. He moved his hand to rest on your cheek, meeting your gaze. He took your hand, the uninjured one, in his free hand and placed your palm against his chest. You felt his heart beating strong and slow under your fingertips.

"It beats for you." He said. His voice was smooth and comforting, you wished you could listen to him speak all day.

"Don't say that." You said, trying to pull your hand away. Although you didn't resist when Link placed his hand over yours to hold it against his chest.

"Don't say things you don't mean." You whispered. He stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"I'm not a liar, (y/n)." He said. He turned you so he was standing between you and the basin, placing both hands on your cheeks and looking into your eyes. He leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. You could feel his heartbeat quicken as he leaned in, and you closed your eyes as your lips met. It was electrifying. His lips were soft and gentle, they moved in perfect sync with yours. You found yourself never wanting to pull away from him. He was warm and welcoming, strong, handsome, you could feel yourself being pulled in and you didn't mind.

Finally, when he pulled away you saw him holding a necklace with a diamond set in the center of a silver pendant. You cocked your head as you looked between his face and the necklace. What was it for?

"My mother," he paused, clearing his throat, "my mother told me to give this to the one who made me happy." He said, taking one end of the chain in each hand, offering to place it around your neck.

"She told me to give it to the one who made me laugh, who made me smile, who made me feel safe." He said. You turned around, and he expertly clasped the necklace behind your neck, letting the pendant rest against your chest.

"That's you." He said. You turned back around and placed your hand back against his chest. His heart was beating rapidly, you could almost hear it in the quiet room.

"What about the Princess? Or Mipha?" You asked in confusion as you touched the silver pendant.

"They're my friends," He said, "but you, I will love you until I die." He placed his hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he met your gaze evenly.

"And I will keep loving you until I'm forgotten." You rested your head against him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. You stood there with him for a moment, absorbing everything that had just been said.

When you finally pulled away, his face was concerned. He opened his mouth to speak, taking a deep breath.

"Tomorrow, the Princess is going to the Spring of Wisdom at Mount Lanayru." He said, running his hands up and down your arms, squeezing your biceps like he was making sure you were real.

"I'm aware, she told me last week." You said, confusion evident in your voice.

"Listen to me." He held your shoulders, looking earnestly into your eyes.

"When she leaves, sneak down to the stables, take a horse. A fast horse." He said. Now you were thoroughly confused, what was he talking about?

"Look at me (y/n), please. Run to Hateno village. There's a house over a bridge, it's mine, please stay there." He said. Was he asking you to run away with him?

"Link what are you talking about?" You asked. He pursed his lips, letting out a breath as his eyebrows furrowed.

"I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. Please, stay as far away from the castle as you can." He begged before pulling you into his chest for another hug. You felt him press his lips against your temple. You nodded against his chest, and finally felt him relax.

"I promise I'll come for you." He said. "When it's safe."

***

There was a picture on the sheikah slate. One that didn't make sense to him. He stood near the remains of the guardian he had just destroyed, avoiding the eye of the sky watchers as he looked to the clump of weeds and brambles near the building, where he had been sitting.

In the picture it was sunny. The sun shone on his back; he could feel the warmth emanating from the photo. He knew the location, remembered Zelda's routine of studying the guardians in the same area he was standing now. But, the girl. He didn't remember her.

In the photo he was sitting in the grass with his back to a girl of about his age. She had (h/c) hair and nimble hands. He had his eyes closed with a soft smile on his face while she braided daisies into his hair, with a crown of daisies sitting in her lap and a matching one on her head.

Something about the picture was familiar, calming, it made his heart beat faster and his palms sweat, but why? Why did it make his knees weak and make him wish he could go back, more than any of the other photos on the slate?

He took a step forward, digging through the bramble and finding a single white daisy growing hidden, tucked away from this evil in a safe thicket. He pulled it from the ground, inhaling the sweet scent of the flower. With that smell, everything came flooding back to him as it hit him like a guardian laser.

You.

He remembered you. He remembered the smell of your perfume, your soft skin against his own when he held your hands, coming to see you every night, stolen kisses in the stairwells and hidden corners. He remembered the night he gave you his mother’s necklace, telling you he would love you until he was forgotten. He remembered taking you to his bed that night and loving you until the sun peeked over the horizon.

He remembered the day he felt himself falling for you. The day in this picture, the day you braided daisies into his hair and placed a crown on his head, talking to him as if he wasn't the Princess's knight. As if he was nothing more than your friend, another Hylian who couldn't be plucked from a crowd of 100 instead of the Hylian champion.

He remembered your patience with him when he refused to speak. How you would watch his face closely for reactions rather than words as you spoke. He felt longing wash over him as his chest ached. It ached like he was dying again, it ached the way it did when he realized each of the champions was dead, but it hurt worse than that. He turned, leaping onto his horses back and turning it down the path away from the castle, riding straight to Hateno village.

***

You were working on chores around Link's small house when you looked down the hill and saw the white horse run wildly through the village. You shook your head. Sometimes the traveling merchants were in too much of a hurry to be cautious of the children around the village. You let out a sigh, dusting the photos on the night stand off while you toyed with the necklace sitting against your chest.

Purah had used you as a guinea pig for her anti-aging technology. It had worked on you, turning you back exactly 100 years. But on Purah, she had used more because she was older than you, but it had turned her into a six-year-old physically. You had laughed that day, for the first time in a while you laughed.

You opened the door with a basket full of clothes with the intention of washing them in the pond behind the stable. You closed the door behind you, turning to walk around the house. You froze in your tracks when you saw a man in a red tunic and brown pants standing in the field, stroking the nose of the black horse you had in the pasture with his back to you. You noticed the same white horse that had torn through town and huffed. Now the merchants had gone too far. You set the basket on the corner of the fence and wiped your hands on your pants before approaching him.

"Excuse me? You do realize you're on private property?" You called. He didn't turn to you, instead continuing to pet the horse. You huffed and stormed towards him. Your horse lifted his head, snorting with his ears pricked forward towards the man. What had gotten into him? You opened your mouth to speak again, only to be rendered speechless when the man turned to face you.

Standing in front of you, with his soft blue eyes and warm smile, was Link. Link, the same age as the day the calamity fell, with a single white daisy tucked behind his ear.

⌨️ Non-Zero-Sum Game | Sunmi

Request: Hey can I request a fluffy scenario where the reader is playing video games and Sunmi is bored so she tries to distract the reader? Thanks Plot: Sunmi goes to Reader's apartment after work, but it seems like Reader has something more interesting to do than to give her attention. Words: 1, 859 Genre: fluff Notes: i loved writing this one!!!! have a nice read! ♡♡

You were so focused that you didn't notice the sound of the key in the door, the door opening or even the sound of high heels echoing in the living room and stopping, being replaced by ladybugs slippers extremely comfortable for those white and tired feet, who walked slowly to the room you were in.

Nor could you hear these sounds with a headset at a high volume, with shots of different types of assault rifles and hand grenades exploding.

You also didn't notice the smell of the sweet perfume that took over the room, a smell that you used to praise every time it got stuck in your nose. Almost all of your senses were too focused on what was going on in those three huge screens in the computer desk positioned on the wall opposite to the entrance to that room.

On the screen, you had some goals: to kill members of the opposing team, to keep yourself and your teammates alive and, above all, to arm and activate a bomb in the enemy's defense field. It was not as difficult as it seemed, the hardest was to find a good team - which you, luckily, had already found - and set up a strategy.

Sometimes, these games were not just fun for you, they were a healthy competition and a challenge for your brain.

"On your right, gashinassassin!", you heard the high-pitched voice of your teammate, thej0k3r (or, as you called her since middle school, Sieun), alert you.

Your fingers worked nimbly on the keyboard and mouse, pressing the right keys and buttons to aim and fire at the right time, moving your avatar to the left side in order to hide behind the wall to get out of the opponent's sights. A colorful game with such realistic graphics on screens that size made you feel part of it, as if you were really there.

You felt your headset being pulled from your left ear and, before you could turn around, soft lips landed where the headset had been.

"Hmmm... I just arrived the apartment and this so-called gashinassassin didn't even give me a kiss...”, a sly voice found the tunnel to your eardrums and went straight to your stomach, waking up the butterflies that lived there.

It was her.

You grinned largely at the beautiful woman next to you.

"Hey, bab-"

Your voice was interrupted by the loud gunshot in your right ear and an effect you haven't heard in a while. Headshot. You looked back at the giant screen and blurted out a curse. A shot right in the middle of your avatar’s head!

"Now that you've died in the game, I deserve a decent ‘welcome, love’. Don't you think?", suggested Sunmi, still in the same clothes she wore before leaving your apartment early in the morning for an appointment.

You held up a finger as if asking her to wait a minute and adjusted the headset while listening to your team putting together another strategy. Now, your avatar was at the “starting base”. 15 seconds to "resurrect" and return with all energy in the game.

"Guys, I'll be right back, my girlfriend has arrived.", you said it pretty fast and, before you could hear any mockery from your friends, removed the headset and dropped it next to the mouse.

"Come here.", you called Sunmi, pulling her by the hand.

Sunmi sat on your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck, a tight hug. You sought her lips with yours and she let you smudge her lipstick. It didn't matter now that her makeup was all ruined, as long as you showed how much you missed her.

Ending this long kiss with short kisses, you smiled as you noticed Sunmi's completely smudged lipstick.

"You look like the Joker."

"I hope you're referring to the real Joker and not Sieun.", Sunmi raised an eyebrow and got up from your lap.

"Ewwww! No! Not at all!", you purposefully shook your body from head to toe and made a face of complete disgust.

Sunmi laughed as she ran her fingers through her hair, pinning it up in a bun at the top of her head.

"I'm going to take a shower. When I get back, forget about this game. I’m bored and wanna spend some time with my love.", she didn't wait for an answer and went straight to the bathroom in the suite.

"This is the last one-" you said, your answer being the bathroom door slamming shut.

Ever since she left the bathroom, Sunmi realized that your focus on the game was intense. She was wearing one of her baggy t-shirts and plaid pants, her hair still tied up. After so many hours dedicated to a program and participating in a competition game with other idols, Sunmi just wanted to spend time with you, watching a movie lying on top of you, kissing you now and then and enjoying that comfortable silence that only the two of you had.

Wanting to draw your attention to her, Sunmi grabbed your shoulders and started a massage. She kissed the top of your head, just above the curve of the headset.

"Farther to the right," you said, without taking your eyes off the screen.

"On the right shoulder?", she asked, placing both hands on your right shoulder.

"There."

She smiled, continuing the massage.

"NOW DOWN, DOWN, DOWN!!", you shouted, Sunmi almost fell backwards, startled.

"Idiot, were you talking to the people in the game???"

You took off your headset and turned slightly to the side, facing a Sunmi with her right hand resting on her chest, breathing fast.

"Sorry, it's very difficult around here...”, you pointed to the screen. “Did I scare you?"

Just Sunmi's angry look was enough of an answer.

"Sorry, baby, I'm going to finish here and I'll give you attention. It's gonna be really quick, okay?", you said, pouting.

Sunmi crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to make a sandwich.", and she left the room, without looking back or asking you if you wanted some.

After ten minutes, she returned to the room with a plate of that big sandwich and also a soda can. She placed the sandwich plate next to your mouse and opened the can next to your ear, so the noise would be loud for you.

She was standing, leaning her elbow on your chair, staring at the screen just like you. She picked up the sandwich, took a bite and there was mayonnaise on her lower lip.

"There, there, look!", she pointed at the screen at a soldier with an AK47 in hand. "Shoot!"

"No, no, this is Yeri, she is from my squad.", you smiled.

"Hmm..."

"No, I was talking to Sunmi.", your expression changed to full concentration.

Feeling ignored, Sunmi sat on the bed and turned on the television. On purpose, she left the volume almost to the maximum on a sitcom on Prime Video.

Feeling uncomfortable with the sound, you looked quickly at the screen and then at Sunmi. She pretended that she didn't notice your discomfort. Nothing would change until you turned your attention to her, that's how she thought.

A few more minutes passed and Sunmi started to laugh. It wasn't a natural laugh, you could see. It was a forced laugh, an outrageous laugh, which made you look back again for eye contact with Sunmi. Once again she pretended not to notice.

"Just a little while longer and the game will be over and then finally I will be able to give all my attention to her.", you thought.

The notes of a song you knew very well started to echo out of the headset and you tried to hide a smile. Sunmi was looking like a child in need of attention. Oh, how well you knew her! You would join that game with her. But, in the end, none of you would lose.

You turned off the microphone and chatted to your friends, saying you would need to quit the game. They did not object. However, doing it quickly for her not to see, you played a gameplay on youtube and pretended it was you playing it.

When a specific part of the song arrived, Sunmi sang at the top of her lungs:

"When will hug me and kiss me?"

You held back a laugh and simulated a cough. She danced to her own music on the bed, in a sloppy and completely beautiful way.

"Isn't it a little too narcissistic to listen to your own music?", you asked, swiveling your chair in a movement that would make you face Sunmi.

"Isn't it a little too bad to keep your girlfriend waiting?", she threw herself on her back on the bed and one of the pillows fell to the floor.

You got up and picked it up, put it back on the bed and threw yourself next to your girlfriend. She was angry, you knew that.

But you also knew how to put an end to that angriness.

"Go back to your game. I don't want you anymore.", with her cell phone in hands, Sunmi was looking for another song.

"Oh, so you don’t want me anymore?!", you feigned disbelief. "This is cruel!"

You approached your body to hers and she did nothing. But she also didn't try to move away. And she was starting to pout. How could she be so adorable?

"Cruel is to keep your girlfriend waiting.", Sunmi pressed the play angrily and Gashina started playing.

"Look! There is a very good player who uses the name of this great song as user in games..."

"I don't care.", she shrugged.

You chuckled and hid your face on her neck, stretched out your left arm and held Sunmi in a half hug. You kissed her shoulder.

"Forgive me... I'm here! I promise I won't play again now, I'll do whatever you want and I'll give you all the attention in the world."

Sunmi rolled her eyes.

"Funny... your game is still on the screen."

"It's just gameplay... a trap to see how far you would go.", you confessed.

"You are veeery funny.", Sunmi said, without a hint of truth. "You said you're going to give me all the attention in the world and do what I want. Is that true?", she asked, still pouting.

"Super duper ultra true.", you raised your pinky to her.

"Okay then.", she joined her pinky with yours and then you kissed her, pressing her against you.

After a while on that kiss, Sunmi separated your lips.

"How long has that gameplay been running?"

"A few minutes, why?", you slid your lips over hers.

"All this time you could be just giving me attention?!", she was indignant. “I was about to play the bass!”

"Oh, baby, come here.", you pulled her, laughing.

She would not need to ask for your attention. Never. Your eyes would always be focused on her.

Another kiss started and you both smiled. Healthy love games always ended with Sunmi’s lips’ taste and sincere, beautiful smiles. And the two of you ended up winning. There was no better game.

All in the Family

Chapter 48: The Patronus

The place was not even lit, which hadn't boded well the past few times for them, so Remus was quick to wave his wand and light the candles along the wall. It revealed nothing more than a desk with a suitcase on top, the rest of the room was cleared.

At first they all relaxed, recognizing an unused Hogwarts classroom, the view outside a crystal clear night, the moon newly waning. Then they heard the suitcase rattle.

"I swear to Merlin's sack if it's another three headed dog, I am out!" Frank hissed to no one.

"Thankfully we didn't have to deal with that one," Peter tried to offer, his voice too high pitched to convey any real comfort. "Plus, I've got a nice falsetto-"

"Someone summon the damn book and get us out of here before we have to find out!" Lily snarled, their wands all pointed either at the suitcase or at the door for the threat, but none seemed willing to activate anything. Finally Lily took a breath and followed her own advice, the suitcase went sailing into her hand.

She dropped it as if it had burned her.

"Evans?" James at once asked in concern, but too late, it fell open right in front of her.

A new girl now stood before them all, carefully set blond hair and pale fishy eyes in a neat pink dress, her face scrunched up in pure disgust. Eyes locked on Lily and storming even closer with a ranky, perfumed air she sneered, "I can't believe you did that freaky magic again Lily, mum and dad will kick you out for sure this time-"

James froze with no idea of what to make of this, even as the red heads eyes filled with tears and her wand began to lower, but Remus leaped forward and shouted, "Riddikulus!"

The image flickered for a moment, eyes still locked in on Lily. For just a moment, a boy now stood before them with long greasy hair and a hooked nose, but then it changed to a cartoonish looking dog trying to balance a bone on its nose.

Sirius could only muster up a very small laugh in surprise, but that only drew the boggarts attention onto him next, blank eyes focusing in and already beginning to change into a woman, except this time with haughty dark features and claw like hands as she shrieked at her eldest son what a disgrace he was, in a voice they all recognized from frequent Howlers in the Great Hall.

Padfoot blanched in disgust and tried his own form of the banishment, but then it only grew worse again at the weak attempt, flickering to Prongs, then Moony, and then Wormtail all with looks of horror and disgust upon their faces and spewing even worse things of betrayal and a friend they couldn't trust, all words they'd already said to him.

James pushed him out of the way and, ignoring the change to a skeletal snake-like face appearing from nothing, this time said with purpose, "Riddikulus!"

It changed to a yellow balloon and made a farting noise drifting lazily around the room. Peter made a forced attempt at laughter and they all tried to join in this time with understanding. It landed, flickered feebly between a rat, a pool of blood, a griffin, then settled on an erumpent, rearing onto its hind legs and horn pointed at Alice.

She shrieked and backed away in surprise, but gathered her wits back just as quick, all of them on guard now. She repeated the incantation and watched it shrink down to a fuzzy kitten chasing its tail. They all laughed this time with feeling.

It tried one last feeble attempt, rolling onto its back and nearly locking eyes with Regulus who backed quickly away with a truly horrified expression. Lily stormed forward with a vengeance. The image blurred, taking the shape of a person once more before she shouted at the top of her lungs, and then there was a fish flopping on the floor and singing some tune none of them recognized, but they all laughed anyways in surprise.

Finally, it vanished, the silence left behind though labored with still startled breaths was almost calm thanks to the way it had ended.

Lily very cautiously peeked back inside the suitcase, to find the book sitting innocently inside. "Well," she whispered, still breathing the heaviest. "I guess Harry gets those lessons from Professor Lupin."

They all shuffled for a moment back into more casual stances, everyone looking at someone with worry for this experience.

"Err, Evans, you sure you're okay?" Potter still asked her even as he was looking at his best mate, expression sallow to the extreme and twisted up, still glaring where the boggart had vanished.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and scooped the book up without comment to get to her place.

"An erumpent?" Frank put his arm around Alice and politely asked her. "I feel like there's a story there."

She made an awkward attempt at a giggle to fight off the full memory. "My dad took me to a sanctuary once, it did not end well. What's with you and griffins?"

"A wild one went onto our property once," he grimaced. "I'd be cat chow if my mum hadn't stepped in. Needless to say, I'm quite proud I didn't wind up in Gryffindor for that alone."

She did laugh that time, but both were now done soothing each other and watching Lily with still more worry. They wanted to say something to her, find some way to really make her laugh this off like they had, but she'd just found her place and read out the chapter title, causing an inadvertent but welcomed distraction. "That's not really the way Harry's going to stop this dementor problem." She turned accusing eyes on Lupin, who looked politely puzzled himself. "That's a seventh year charm, I only know of it because I accidentally did a practice quiz for a N. E. W. T. instead of an O. W. L last week. You can't expect a third year-"

Three Marauders decided to keep to themselves they did in fact know that charm, even if they weren't dementor tested, because there had been a study done on correlations between the form they took and similar animagus'. One, did not think that through.

"Do you know any other way to make a dementor piss off?" Black snapped at her, visibly swallowing but puffing up and nearly shouting. "You want Harry to be hearing you scream in his head for the rest of his life? At least Moony's trying something, I don't see any other Professor-"

"Padfoot," Potter placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Breathe mate, she didn't sick that boggart on you, or what came out of it, which was complete bollix."

He took a deep breath and blinked a few times, whatever he'd been yelling at in his mind finally being replaced with her vivid red hair. "Right, sorry Evans."

She just nodded without comment and tried to read on, putting the tid-bit away for later on how, interesting, it was Potter always seemed able to calm all his mates down. What would they be like when he wasn't around to do that?

Sirius had even less interest hearing Harry arguing with his friends, as if he hadn't lived through that enough. So he grabbed Regulus by his shoulder and began towing him to the farthest corner away.

He went stumbling along, but willingly, and straightened his robes and drew himself up imperiously when released. "The hell Sirius? You know you can just ask to have a word with me like normal?"

Sirius huffed and muttered for a moment about the kid before he asked in an almost gentle voice, "your class done boggarts yet?"

Regulus sucked on the inside of his cheek for a moment before answering, "no, at least, not like that. None of my Professors have ever mentioned them, certainly not Liz if it was supposed to come up this year, but Dad actually found one in his desk the day before Christmas Holiday ended. Told me I was going to practice on it this summer," he finished in a small voice. "Guess, now I'll be better prepared for it?"

Sirius had only wanted to somehow brush off the horrible things that boggartWalburga had said if his little brother had questions, but now he felt like he should ask more, for once. He'd flat refused anymore lessons like that with his parents after fourth year when they'd given him several dozen different lectures on not just how to do certain spells, but who they should be targeted towards, and that wasn't even getting into how they talked about beasts like trolls, goblins, and werewolves.

He'd tried to convince his little brother to join him and stop going to these as well, but the little brat had refused and told Sirius he wasn't going to disappoint his parents like that, then asked him to go outside and play a game. It was pure insanity! How long did Regulus think he could keep walking the line between appeasing their disturbed parents and keeping whatever moral compass he still claimed he had?

There was a small distraction from the discourse James was serving by Wood trying to work Harry off the team because of this dementor problem, his best friend shouting loud enough for the whole castle to hear, "Moony, if you don't get Harry a solution to those dementors, I'll banish them all from Earth myself!"

Wormtail gave a wild laugh for his usual antics, the both of them discussing loudly how they'd go about doing that when classes swung around to mentioning said professor again. Sirius looked up and around properly in concern when Hermione displayed, well, not a response they appreciated.

Regulus watched his brother eye Lupin with concern when the little Muggleborn girl seemed to know what was wrong with their newest teacher. Regulus felt affronted for a moment, he hadn't a clue if it was some disease he had or he was just consistently under the whether, but he also hadn't spent much time looking into it. Seemed the nosy little girl had done so and was now lording it, typical behavior of those less fortunate. He shifted his weight uncomfortably to the Muggleborn reading all this, the image of her fiery hair jumping to his defense and tackling the creature, and without permission guilt flooded him for the vicious thoughts. He slumped away from Sirius in confusion and sat by the desk as he tried to sort out all these conflictions in him. The boggart's shape for him, everything he'd thought he'd known being a lie, and still who to believe.

Sirius let him, as he didn't have a satisfactory answer for his own problem yet, and turned to enthusiastically egg Evans on with 'interest' of this new spell they clearly hadn't heard of!

Lily ignored their idiocies, but did stop curiously when the name of the incantation was given and how to invoke it. She hesitated, searching through her mind for something that might work.

Frank didn't have to think twice, summoning forth when Alice had agreed to go out with him and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" A white burst of light did indeed spew forth, but to his disappointment it merely faded away just as fast.

Alice waffled on anything to use. Her life had been quite mellow, nothing would really stand out in her mind that would give her much of anything to work with. She got more frustrated the longer she tried, thinking there must be some high point in her life as she flickered through memories with her parents, friends, and even Frank, but there was no peak producing silver to be found.

The Marauders all, 'gave it a go.' They all had great bruises on their prides to only produce very thick and consistent vapors of smoke without letting their true patronuses take shape, but they'd resisted the urge to brag to the world about their years too early practice in becoming animagus', they could hold off bragging on this too. Sirius turned to Regulus and called, to try and push some attention away, "come on then, give it a go! See if you and Harry are on the same level?"

'I'm nothing like that half-blood' he wanted to snap back, instinctively insulted, but took a deep breath and instead tried to respond to his brothers enthusiasm. He recalled the time he and Sirius had built a fort out of blankets in the study and Kreacher brought them snacks all night, the two whispering about all the adventures of the future, home alone as their parents went to a dinner party all night. A very substantial silver something began to materialize before him, but he was so surprised it faded away just as fast. He looked wildly over to see his brother beaming with pride.

James was watching Evans sadly, advice or something to help on the tip of his tongue. She was red in the face and muttering the enchantment with purpose, but barely a whisp was visible. Usually the ruler of the Charms room, he'd half expected her to be able to flawlessly enact this one, but she was clearly struggling with some aspect. When she opened her eyes and saw him staring, she looked even more angry and frustrated, turning back to the book with a despicable look, muttering about practice later.

She didn't exactly feel better that she was doing worse than Harry, or the fact that the boy had to create a fake memory just to produce results! She flushed with shame as she suddenly realized she may do better trying the same, nothing she'd come up with seemed to be working. Not the earliest ones of the first time she'd done magic, nor the more recent of her and Sev trying to create spells and jotting them down in his mums old potion book. She stamped her foot in frustration of what she was doing wrong.

The lesson was going brutally, and Evans' clear displeasure at her inability to do the spell wasn't helping things along. Constantly having to hear of your last dying words on top of lacking in magic her son was getting only half decent results in this same spell, more than her. At least Harry had an excuse for his lackluster work, his secret desire to hear his mother's voice, the only time in his life he would.

Then Peter fell back against the wall, clutching his ears in pain rather than keep hearing her stutter in surprise over James' last words. You-Know-Who closing in, and his brave, loyal, stupid friend standing his ground against everything. He should have ran, why didn't he run? This wasn't some animal that could so easily be tricked and fooled, this was a tyrant even Prongs couldn't face!

He watched his friend for several long moments, looking as if he were seeing a ghost in Evan's hands, but then his chest puffed up and he drew himself to his full height as if fixing to go ten more rounds with everyone in the castle. "Damned right!" He declared with actual pride.

Sirius and Remus looked on the verge of tears hearing of this, but then they too threw their shoulders back in pride for such a response. Peter wished the castle would swallow him hole in shame as he couldn't bring himself to do the same. His eyes flickered to where the Boggart had vanished, the tiny little rat that had appeared mocking him. He'd always been weak and small compared to them, even his fears, and the self-loathing only grew stronger for what he was, what his first reaction would always be.

Lily had just been given a whole new perspective of this future smacked into her face. There was still the loathsome image of being married to Potter for all of this to even be occurring, but for once that was the most insignificant bit. She held, in her hands, proof that James Potter, cared for her. Like she'd watched him do for his friends in the past few days alone, like she'd seen him even trying to do for her, now magnified in an action he clearly had no regrets for. For this one second, his last breath, he was not some arrogant prick trying to win her affections.

"Lily?" It was the quietest, most gentle way he'd ever called to get her attention. The reason he called her Evans was too rile her up and see her face him with that challenging look ready to go, but that's not what she needed now. "I don't regret it." The calm he infused into that, spluttered something out of her.

"How do you manage to- I don't even like-"

"That's alright," he actually shrugged, still looking like this of all things was a casual conversation. Not the birk that was blindly defending his friend, the arrogant idiot who couldn't see any opinion but his own, just his declaration this was a satisfying enough end. She didn't understand it one little bit. She turned slowly back to the book, because for once she didn't know what to say to him. Thank you didn't seem proper enough, when she couldn't return she'd do the same.

She almost, sympathized with Harry coming to tears over hearing of this. She'd tried, and failed, to put distance between the idea of this child being hers, and for the first time was again struck by just what the boy would think watching this. The first thing he'd ever heard in his parents voice was their life ending for his, and here the two of them couldn't even hold a civil conversation! The lad would probably cry ten fold if he was forced to hear this instead.

Some of James' confidence wavered when Remus, or Professor Lupin whatever, refused to elaborate on their friendship. He had no idea why his friend had been going out of his way these past thirteen years to not care for Harry, and dancing around the answer now was making him feel sick. Just what had happened?

Sirius and Remus exchanged terrified looks for the same, now watching Prongs as he finally looked worried about this future like hearing his own last words hadn't managed. Sirius roused himself, and in a fit of solidarity to chase that away shouted, "oi, who's up for round two with that Boggart! Professor Lupin's slacking, only letting Harry have three goes!"

Remus swallowed uncomfortably rather than admitting he wanted to quit again from this bloody story, but the other two looked relieved and laughed just like Padfoot had been hoping, even if both sounded extremely forced.

There was rising hope in everyone now as Harry finally got a good attempt off! Professor Lupin still had to step in, and it didn't seem encouraging the man who was teaching this couldn't even produce his own patronus to do it, but they'd take whatever they could get at this point.

Professor Lupin's even more cryptic comments about Sirius had the two shuffling closer to each other with unease, wishing more than ever there was some way to just get an answer already rather than all of this foul run around nonsense. Harry pausing to reflect on all of this was making them sicker by the moment, it took everything they had not to grab each others hands in front of everyone just for some comfort in this dreadful situation.

Thankfully the book lightened up from there and the moment passed without either having to acknowledge it. More chats of Quidditch and fond laughter at the little third year whining about homework between all the OWL students was really what everyone needed.

Time dragged on for Harry, Frank and Alice looked out the window curiously as if they were going to see the sun zipping by along with Lily's words, though thankfully they were saved from that experience. When the book did go back to talking about Harry in those lessons, Lily couldn't help her voice shaking again, not needing a repeat to know how much Harry needed this, and yet finally understanding why he'd never want them to stop. Her dismay at this was nothing to the Blacks reaction of finding out the oldest one was to be Kissed.

Sirius would have fallen if his friends hadn't caught him, his face a silent scream of fright, which set Regulus' blood boiling. No one and nothing made his brother look like that! "They can't do that! It's been outlawed- it's never even been allowed it's so beyond words! Just who the bloody hell is trying to hide what doing this to him!"

Hearing his little brother throwing a fit, over him, snapped Sirius out of it like nothing else could have. He'd stood there and watched in wonderment for a moment like everyone else before finally going over to him and wrapping a reassuring arm around his shoulders. Regulus immediately tried to shake him off, still muttering profane things Sirius was a bit proud to hear coming from his young mouth, but held tight. "I want you to remember this moment Reg," Sirius said with conviction. "Purebloods are not any more safe than anyone else from the bad things they do, or are framed for doing." He'd only been trying to distract the both of them from this future horror, but now his kid brother looked even more aghast.

"-But, Sirius, don't you see! This is why the Dark Lord's plans should be followed! He wouldn't let this happen to you!"

Sirius flushed in anger, his arm tightened painfully around the kid, but he remembered how shocked and afraid he'd been when hearing the news of You-Know-Who's real name and birth and forced himself to keep going reasonably. "No, Regulus, it wouldn't. I'll never follow him or what he wants, and he'd do much worse to me because of it. You've got to stop letting others tell you what to do-"

"Like you're doing!" He snapped, finally pulling away. "Both you and our parents just keep saying things, how about giving me a chance to see it for myself? All I've seen so far is someone deciding you're going to get your soul sucked out because you killed a bunch of Muggles! Who cares about them, but under the-"

"Shut up!" Sirius snapped back before he could say it again. "Do you even hear yourself? Murder's okay now, so long as it's not someone who can do magic? What next then, killing Muggleborn's will be okay because it's not you?" To his surprise, Regulus' eyes flinched to Evans and away, it was the first time Sirius had seen him even acknowledge her. "Then who, hum? Wizards without pure blood lines can go to? Then there will just be You-Know-Who's minions, and even those might some day choose to not agree with who goes next, and there won't be anyone left to stop him!"

He took a deep breath and tried to keep himself calm when Regulus just stood there, pale faced but with that insufferably stubborn look still set. He didn't seem to have a rebuttal for that though, for once. "Fine, think whatever you like," he muttered, stamping back to his friends.

Lily felt like backing slowly out of the room so as not to draw attention towards her and invoke another fight like that, even as she'd been unable to look away from the whole thing, completely riveted. The brothers were much more of a spectacle than her and her sister were, she was sure, but still she couldn't help but find herself sympathizing with Sirius Black of all people. She was full of that today apparently, as she wanted to consul the sibling who couldn't get through to the other. It made going back to reading feel ten times more awkward as she kept shooting him anxious looks, an apology or words of understanding on the tip of her tongue for him that he was clearly ignoring even from his own friends.

They were all so distracted it took a few moments for McGonagall's words to sink about Harry's Firebolt being returned to him, than Lily's good mood vanish as fast as it was back for those Marauders. They were a ball of pure energy and excitement Harry got the broom back while she just wanted to chuck it in the trash, considering Harry and Ron even went so far as to rub it in their friends face they'd been right all along. She still remembered Harry nearly being thrown from a broom once, was it beyond her son to admit it could have happened again and better safe than sorry?

She'd thought they were going to end on that high note for Harry, for once, but then another bomb was thrown into the mix for all parties. Hermione's cat had finally eaten Ron's rat. More than one relationship might be irreparable now.

NYR: July in review.

Post-July horoscope: “now my troubles are going to have troubles with me.”

Huge month, although kind of blurred into the last one and I find it hard to remember what happened when, exactly. It’s been over a month in lockdown and it’s at least one more month to go, so every day kind of bleeds into every other. There’s been a lot happening, though. A lot of it good, some of it sad, some of it stressful. In the last month:

started new job. I’m just over two weeks into it and I’m finding my stride. It’s actually working out pretty great, I like my coworkers, I’m good at it and learning a lot, and it’s the kind of thing I can see myself doing sort of indefinitely. I don’t think it’s going to be more than I can manage, although I am getting so tired by the end of the week. Love getting paid a decent wage, though. Feel like the university system could learn something from that. 

submitted a short story for publication. I won’t hear back until the end of the month, but I’m proud that I sent something in. I think there’s a decent chance they’ll accept it, but we’ll see. Either way, I’m pretty stoked that I took a swing at it. Especially given how hard it was to actually get done in the last couple of months, with everything else going on. Stressed out of my mind half the time.

reading a lot. I’ve been reading pretty regularly. Even treated myself to a couple of new books, which I’ve been keen to read for quite a while. 

finished short courses. There’s about one and a half left to go, but two of them are ready to launch, which is exciting. 

been social. It’s kind of exhausting after a week of working from home going back onto technology to be social with friends, but it’s been good to keep in touch with people. Keen to not have to do it over phone or zoom, though. Looking forward to going to a cafe or something. 

regular walks. I’ve tried to go out for a nice walk every day after work, which has been good for me. It’s been hard at points because of lockdown, and also weather and exhaustion, but it feels good to do and I’d like to find some nice walking tracks other than what I’ve been doing lately.

In August, I will:

keep reading. Really been enjoying it and it’s been a good hobby for decompressing after work or before bed. It’s funny how much more excited and able I am to read now that my thesis is on hold. While my thesis is over my head, it feels like any reading that isn’t for my thesis is frivolous and wasting time, and any reading for my thesis is high pressure because I need to be switched on and ready to take important notes. 

possibly apply for a writing festival? There’s a queer festival kicking off locally in the next couple of months and they’re looking for people to be involved. I’ve reached out to them with a few questions, and will probably decide to apply or not this week. Possibly it’ll be better to wait until next year when I’ve got more publications etc. to my name, since that’s what they seem primarily to be looking for. 

finish remaining short courses. Working full-time has really delayed this but I think it should be very doable for this month as a goal. One is really almost done already, and the other should be pretty light as far as work, just a bit time-consuming to work through the recorded content. 

research potential submission sites. There’s a handful I know of but I haven’t kept up with anything because I wasn’t seriously considering it. I feel like I really should tune in properly now and start prepping. There’s one in particular I already know I’m going to apply to with maybe some poetry soon, but I’d really like to make a habit of it. Got to get my name and work out there. 

do nice things for me. I’m not sure what yet, but there’s a slowly forming list of nice things I’d like. Replacing my old, truly dead pair of Docs. New clothes. New nail polish? Bath bombs. Books I want. Massages. Day trips to the city. Put aside some time to play games I like. Maybe get some new games. Perfume and cologne. I think nearly all these things won’t be doable until after lockdown ends, and maybe longer, but some of them I can get every now and then, and that’s something I’m going to do more.  

half an hour for tidying. As of tomorrow, we’re both working full-time, and that’s going to be deeply tiring for us both, I imagine. I’m thinking the way to keep on top of things is picking a room to focus on for half an hour in the evening, so I’m going to try that this month coming and see how it goes. 

take it easy. Not actually easy for a high-strung chronic overachiever with no idea how to relax, but I’m trying. I find it hard to accept I can’t do everything, all of the time, and it would be good for me to actually do nothing more often without trying to maximise my use of time. Got to stay as sane as possible, or it’ll all be for nothing anyway. 

1.1.2 HALLOWEEN NIGHT, SAME TIME

<<PREVIOUS ⏺ <<CONTENTS>>

2️⃣

Haddonfield, Illinois

Chelsea Keane heard a noise downstairs. She was pretty sure it was a door slam, although it was so far away in this big huge house that it was hard to tell. She took one more long pull off of the joint and stubbed out the roach in the ashtray that sat on the little wicker table in front of her. Beside the little ceramic disc decorated in scenes of Tijuana—now covered in soot, and the remains of her joint, sat her purse. It was a bag really, one of those reusable shopping bags from McNary’s Supermarket, covered in floral prints and little orange and yellow suns, birds, and bees, and little green leafy vines that formed letters which read: Earth Day 2014.

Chelsea rummaged in the bag, around tampons and makeup cases, the occasional lipstick, chapstick, selfie-stick, and ladies speedstick and found what she was looking for. A stick of Wrigley’s Gum. She unwrapped the foil, popped the piece in her mouth, balled the wrapper up between her fingers into a nice neat silver ball, and flicked it across the space in front of her where it landed between a hot water heater and the Centra-Vac system.

She returned to her purse, retrieving a small glass cylinder bottle of Dimension, the new perfume by Jennifer Love Hewitt, and bathing herself in the baby powdery aroma, thinking to herself of a Halloween, perhaps almost twenty years previous, when she had sat on this very couch and watched the actress run screaming across a square-shaped television screen while being stalked by a hooded man with a hook for an arm. Chelsea brought a DVD case out of her purse/bag. Ripe Blood. She turned it over and looked at the screenshots on the back…and the rating. Rated R for Graphic Violence.

Haven’t come much far sense my VHS copy of I Know What You Did Last Summer, she thought. Well, at least the picture quality would be better.

Hell..it’d be a lot better.

Ellen had her own theater.

Complete with a fifteen foot by nine foot screen, reclining seats, surround sound, and even a little kitchenette to nuke some popcorn and retrieve a few ice cold pops.

Lifestyles of the rich and famous, she mused.

Well, definitely rich, but only famous if you’re into watching people have sex on camera.

And there were plenty of people who were, and they paid good money for it.

What can you say? Sex sells.

And didn’t Chelsea know it too. Hell, if she hadn’t let Zeke Yates knock her up in the VIP room almost eighteen years ago, she’d probably be doing just as good as Ellen.

Well…probably not.

Chelsea tossed the DVD case back in her purse/bag and stepped toward the door at the far end of the room, careful to stay on the plywood flooring that designated Ellen’s “Smoking Loft” from the rest of the attic.

Ellen had been the smartest girl Chelsea had ever known. Chelsea presumed she would have ended up like her older sister Deborah, who also got her start in life as a dancer at the Rabbit-in-Red, although, perhaps not quite like Deborah. She didn’t see her son turning into a psychopath anytime soon and she didn’t see herself blowing her head off in the forseeable future either. Like her sister Deborah however, who was actually her half-sister, and nearly twenty years older than her, she had commited the Cardinal Sin of the biz.

“Don’t lapse on your birth control,” Deborah had told the young Chelsea and Ellen as they stood behind her on their first day at work, watching her attach fake lashes in the dingy mirror in the back haunts of the Rabbit-in-Red. “Better yet..don’t fuck the customers at all. VIP is for dancing, not fucking.”

She had pointed a picture of her kids, taped to the mirror then. “See those.”

The girls had nodded nervously.

“That’s what I got for fucking a customer.”

Chelsea had made the mistake, which hadn’t been such a big mistake afterall. She of course was quite fond of her son Joshua, but it was safe to say that the nine and a half pound baby had tanked her stripping career and any possibility of moving into the Adult Film Industry. Chelsea had packed on over a hundred pounds during her pregnancy, and post-baby had only been able to shake twenty of it. So she had settled down with Josh’s father, gotten married, enrolled in Illinois Central College, and got her bachelors degree in Communications.

Lou Martini, the owner of Rabbit-in-Red industries had hired her back—as an editor. That, combined with the few bucks her husband Whitey made around town doing the odd handyman job here and there had afforded them a decent life, with a decent house, another child, a beautiful daughter, and an overall pretty damn fine life for herself.

Chelsea stepped out unto the landing and pulled the door shut to the attic behind her and then descended the stairs toward the common room on the third floor. There was a white leather couch and a coffee table. A mini bar sat in the corner of the room with liquor that probably hadn’t been touched in years and a few pieces of modern art on skimpy end tables that probably hadn’t been properly looked at or analyzed in the same amount of time. The room was just for show, just like a giant, lifesize poster on the wall behind a thirty inch flatscreen VIZIO. Ellen in a bikini too small for her surgically enhanced breasts, sprawled on some exotic beach, sand on her knees and elbows.

Ellen was smart.

🎃

“So who is this person?” Penny Cornell asked, popping her bubble gum loudly before she spoke.

Josh looked at her in the soft light of the poolhouse. She was dressed as Velma from Scooby Doo, and he had gone as Fred, only they hadn’t bothered to get wigs or color their hair, so she ended up being a blonde Velma and he ended up being a Fred with black hair, which, in actuality totally ruined the ensemble and had in fact led to many of their peers on the streets that night during their Trick-Or-Treating run to ask, “So..what are you guys again?”

While Josh searched the cabinets in the pool house kitchenette for a proper shot glass for the Captain Morgan he had stowed away, from a mini bar that saw quite a bit more action than the one on the third floor of the main house, Penny circled the Pool Table, the stained glass lamp casting bright and blazing hues on the side of her face as she looked at the pictures on the walls.

Plenty of pictures of a certain blonde woman in lingerie. Some in a bathing suit. Some wearing nothing at all but a properly placed palm frond, or towel, in one, the handlebars of a motorcycle. Many had the blonde woman with various celebrities. Kid Rock, holding her by the waist, holding a cigar and smiling. There was one with Charlie Sheen, another with Myley Cyrus, and an older one, faded a little, starting to yellow, with future President of the United States Donald Trump. Penny’s face as she beheld these pictures was expressionless, her unassuming eyes taking it all in like a pediatrician examining the X-Ray of a kid who just broke his arm in two places.

“She’s known as Misty Dawn.” Josh said, finding a suitable shotglass, this one featuring the skyline of Charlotte, North Carolina. “She works for Rabbit-in-Red Industries. She’s a model.”

“I can see that,” Penny said, popping her gum again. Her eyes didn’t deviate from the pictures.

“She’s been in some movies too.” Josh added, unscrewing the top of the rum, “X-rated movies. Also done some webcam and stuff.”

Penny sighed and leaned against the pool table. “I see.” She said yawning, her pink wad of bubble gum visible in the corner of her mouth. “Porn must pay pretty well to have all this.” She said, waving her hand across the room to indicate that by “this” she meant this particular poolhouse as well as the mansion and the grounds beyond.

Josh poured a shot and held it out to her. “She’s kind of a star.”

Penny grunted and took the shot glass. She downed it, winced, coughed, and held it back to him. “And your mom knows her from work?”

Josh took the glass and poured another shot. “She and my mom grew up together. They were best friends in high school. Her real name is Ellen.”

Josh took the shot. He also winced and coughed.

The sound of heavy metal filled the room.

It was Josh’s ringtone for his cellphone. He pulled it from his pocket, looked at it, and then looked at Penny frowning. “It’s my mom.” He said and hit the green button on the screen.

“Yeah?”

Penny pulled her own phone out to look at it. Josh replaced the cap on the Captain Morgan and went about replacing the bottle into the minibar and the shotglass into the cabinet from whence it came.

“We are back mom,” Josh was saying, “Penny and I are outside. You probably heard Maddie, Dylan, and Cammie come in.”

Josh rounded the bar and took his girlfriend’s hand, pulling her toward the sliding glass door that led to the pool deck.

“Yeah mom, we’re coming right now.”

He hung up the phone and slid the door shut behind them. Penny was looking at the pool and the adjacent spa.

“I wanna get in that hot tub.”

Josh put a hand on her butt. “I wanna get in there with you.” He smiled wryly.

“Shoot, it’s hot enough to get in the regular pool.” She said as they started toward the main house.

“You’re telling the truth.” Josh replied.

🔪

“You’re gonna fall and bust your head if you don’t stop running around with that sword!” Cammie Cornell, age eight, dressed like a bumble-bee, complete with clip on wings, said, standing cross armed on the hearth.

Dylan Rawls, age thirteen and dressed like a ninja, was chasing little Maddie Keane, age five, dressed as Princess Elsa from the animated Disney film Frozen. Dylan had a plastic sword and was waving it at Maddie as she ran away from him in a circle, laughing and screaming and all the while making motions with her hands in an effort to use her “powers” to freeze Dylan in ice like her character would have been able to do in the movies.

Dylan, despite having already started puberty, was not a very mature boy. This could have been due to a lack of attention given to him by his mother, or as some psuedo-scientists would have suggested, it could have been due to a diet high in processed foods and high fructose corn syrup. His mother had never had him tested for mental defficiencies, mostly due to a nagging worry that he would fail the thing. Dylan wasn’t mentally challenged, that wasn’t quite right. He had been tested for and diagnosed as ADHD by the time he was seven, but then again so many kids were and his mother hadn’t really believed in it or the medication that was supposed to, and probably would have, helped her son. Dylan was in ways a very bright child, better at all the household electronic devices than his own mother, but in other was he was just plain immature. Chasing around a five year old in a living room with a plastic sword dressed as a Ninja after acne was beginning to pop out on his face and sprouts of hair was beginning to pop out on his balls was just case in point.

Dylan stopped and glared at Cammie, about to display another example of his immaturity.

“Don’t tell me what to do, this is my house.” He said between panting breaths.

Maddie stopped and collapsed into the brown leather sofa that faced the fireplace. Her face was red and her breath was heavy, but the smile didn’t leave her little face, nor the brightness in her little brown eyes.

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing like that?” Cammie shot back.

Dylan was about to reply when they all heard a voice from behind them.

“Cammie! Get down from there.”

It was Chelsea, she was descending the stairs holding her cellphone in her hand.

“Maddie, off the furniture please.” She said.

“Yeah Cammie, get down!” Dylan added.

Cammie jumped down from the hearth and stuck her tongue out at Dylan. He returned the gesture.

“Where is all your candy?” Chelsea asked.

“We put it on the stove.” Dylan said, pointing toward the open kitchen with his sword.

“I see.” Chelsea said, her eyes beholding the three large hulking pillowcases.

“They got quite the big haul didn’t they.”

It was the voice of Josh. He and Penny entered the room from the opposite side.

“They certainly look like they made out.” Chelsea said, placing her cellphone in her pocket. She reached into her purse/bag and took out the DVD case and held it out for her son.

Josh snatched it up. “No way! Ripe Blood!? It hasn’t even stopped running in the theaters yet.”

Chelsea smiled, “The Rabbit uses the same packaging and distribution company as the company who made the film..Danger—something or other..”

“Dangertainment.” Josh corrected and passed the case to Penny who looked interested.

“Right,” Chelsea said, putting her purse/bag on the stove next to the three pillowcases full of candy. “Well they give all their clients some freebees as promotional items. That arrived this morning.”

“Are we gonna watch it?” Josh asked, eyes wide and bright.

“You better your ass we are,” Chelsea answered.

“In the theater upstairs?” Josh asked.

“Um…yeah.” answered Chelsea.

“I’m scared.” Penny frowned.

“You can’t be afraid of scary movies if you’re gonna date my son,” Chelsea said, “Joshua loves a good horror flick. He gets it from his mom.”

Josh hugged his mother. The sentiment surprised her, but she appreciated it.

“Can I watch it?” Dylan asked.

Chelsea shook her head. “It’s too scary for the younger kids Dylan. Why don’t you go upstairs and play with Maddie and Penny’s sister…” she looked to Penny, mind scrambling to remember the girl in the bee costume’s name.

“Cammie,” Penny corrected.

“That’s right, Cammie,” Chelsea continued, “until it’s time to go to bed.”

“You guys wanna see my playroom?” Dylan asked. “I have an Nintendo WiiU, a ballpit, a bouncy house, even some laser tag!”

“Yeah!” Maddie and Cammie replied in unison. The kids began to ascend the stairs.

Penny and Josh read the back of the DVD case together while Chelsea opened the fridge, looking over their snack options in regard to their theatre experience.

As Dylan, Maddie, and Cammie reached the top of the stairs, Maddie asked him.

“Can I take a turn at your Wii Dylan?”

Dylan looked back and smiled. “You can, but Cammie can’t!”

“Why not?” Cammie whined.

“I don’t let fat girls play!” Dylan replied, in another epic display of immaturity.

With their eyes on the DVD case, and her head in the fridge, Penny, Chelsea, and Josh didn’t notice or hear Cammie descend the stairs fighting back her tears and exit the front door of the home

NEXT>>

You Belong to Me

Rating: M

Summary: "Brian’s Dom had been the one to walk into the kitchen it turned out."

Notes: I ended up having to repost this, lets pretend that didn't happen :')

AO3 Link

A quick note: There is the use of the title Mommy used in the dom/sub sense but the implications that title could have go no further than that. I mention it because I know that can still bother some people so I wanted to warn you.

I recommend Voodoo by Godsmack as a music companion piece ;)

Brian sat on his and Roger’s bed, filled with anticipation.

He had been sitting in the kitchen earlier, dinner in front of him, with every intention to do some music writing after his meal. He had been lost in thought about a chord progression that had been floating around in his mind for about a week now. So lost in fact, he hadn’t heard the back door open.

Roger had come in, cheeks rosy from the cold outside. He had shrugged off his coat, and strode forward to Brian, who was staring off into space.

Brian had jumped when his jaw had suddenly been grabbed, giant blue eyes entering his field of vision.

“Half hour. Wear a button down and the rainbow socks. Nothing else.”

Brian’s Dom had been the one to walk into the kitchen it turned out.

Brian had not been able to say anything in return because Roger went on to press his lips onto Brian’s. He then watched Roger as he walked to the stairs to the second floor, his hips swaying suggestively as he did so.

Now, as requested, he wore a button down white shirt, the specific rainbow colored stockings he knew Roger wanted and nothing else. He felt quite vulnerable.

After about ten more minutes of waiting a cough came from the master bathroom, a clearing of the throat and a false high pitched voice. “Are you ready for me?”

Brian pressed his lips together and his eyebrows raised. ‘Oh.’

Despite himself, knowing it was against the rules, Brian replied, “You know you really don’t need to do that right, Roger?”

The door to the bathroom opened to reveal a dainty looking blond wearing a too high of a skirt, high heels and a rather realistic wig. Her hands were firmly on her narrow hips.

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

Brian licked his lips. “Ah right, sorry,” He paused. “Rogerina.”

A sneer appeared on Rogerina’s face, and she stepped towards the bed as though she had been born in heels. Brian could see the head of her cock peaking below the skirt, a detail that hadn’t been lost by his own dick.

In a swift movement she put her foot on the bed, the point of the heel coming dangerously close to Brian’s balls.

“Oh you don’t even get to call me Rogerina tonight,” She said, matter-of-fact. “Or ma’am for that matter. Tonight you’re calling me ‘Mommy’.”

A blush bloomed across Brian’s face and Rogerina’s hand reached to caress his cheek.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Brian?”

He answered while staring up into her eyes, “Y-yes, Mommy.”

A delighted giggle tumbled out of Rogerina’s pretty little pink lips. “That’s more like it.”

The toe of Rogerina’s high heel pressed a bit firmer onto Brian’s crotch. As a whimper escaped Brian, his hands grabbed fistfuls of sheets. His eyes remained locked with hers.

“Now don’t you worry, Mommy will take care of you,” She said softly as she caressed his lips with her thumb. “You know I love it when you’re vocal.”

Brian nodded, his eyes still not leaving hers until she dipped her head and captured his mouth, her hand sliding to the nape of his neck.

His hands began to roam over Rogerina’s naked torso, her skin so very soft, except for her hands. He pulled her closer, raking his nails down her back to the top of her ass where the skirt started.

Rogerina let out a small gasp into his mouth. This made Brian gather her up in his arms so that she sat on his lap, her knees on either side of him.

“Hmm, how nice should Mommy be?” Rogerina asked rhetorically. She began to gyrate her hips to create friction.

Brian grabbed onto her ass underneath her skirt, thrusting up to meet her movements. “I’ll be a good boy,” Brian said faintly, his eyes wider than they usually would be, clouded with lust.

He kissed down Rogerina’s neck, licking her adam’s apple as he went. The smell of perfume and shampoo met Brian’s nose. Rogerina hummed and tossed her head back. “Oh I know you will be babe,” Her voice was caught in her throat and her fingers threaded upward through Brian’s curls.

When Brian began kissing her collar bone, she said, “But I’m still going to fuck you.”

Brian grunted in response, wrapping his hand around Rogerina’s cock; A much manlier moan to escaped her parted lips. She struggled not to break character while he slowly pumped her dick, but FUCK, his hand felt so good; especially the textured tips of his fingers from playing guitar all these years.

“Fuck Bri,” Roger said, completely breaking character. He panted as Brian palmed his balls and then pulled Roger down for a kiss.

Roger had no time to take in what was happening when Brian suddenly pushed Roger onto his back. Now Brian was straddling him, kissing him roughly. When they broke apart to breathe, Brian went for Roger’s neck, but this time he wasn’t kind. His teeth caught flesh between them, that he sucked on, and he reveled at the low grunts and moans coming from Roger’s throat.

“No fair,” Roger managed to choke out as he kicked off the heels and locked his legs around Brian’s waist.

Brian began to thrust against Roger, both of them incredibly hard. Precum leaked from the head of Brian’s cock and Roger reached between them to run his fingers over it. He glided his hands down Brian’s impressive length.

Brian’s face buried into Roger’s shoulder and he whimpered again, which finally reminded Roger to get back into character.

“You like that?” Roger said, switching back to his Rogeria voice. “Tell me how much you like that, baby.”

A muffled moan got lost into her chest as Brian nuzzled his face into her skin more as Rogerina’s hand sped up.

“Now now, use your words-”

“I-” Brian’s voice shook. He got onto his back as Rogerina moved to hover over him, her lips found his nipple, which she teased with her tongue, along with long even strokes back and forth on Brian’s cock.

“Hmm?” Rogerina hummed against Brian’s skin as she totally removed her hands from his body.

“Please, don’t stop,” Brian whined.

“Oh now I have to,” A wicked grin spread across her face as Brian let out a frustrated sigh.

“Come on, on your belly, ass in the air for Mommy.”

Rogerina reached under her skirt and palmed her own boner which had begun to ache.

Brian grumbled, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Do you want to be punished?” Rogerina asked, raising her eyebrows as she rubbed the head of her dick. It was hard to keep her mind in what she was trying to get Brian to do; everything felt so good. She knew, however, her prize, if she persisted, would feel even better.

Brian grumbled again and eventually said, “No I don’t want to be punished, Mommy.”

It came across a bit more aggressive than Rogerina would have liked but she changed her focus to Brian’s shirt instead. Rogerina helped him slide it down each arm after Brian unbuttoned it. Their eyes locked again in a battle of wills.

Brian’s resolve softened when he saw that Roger had put on eyeliner in the way he knew Brian liked. The moment of hesitation was enough for Rogerina to gain the upper hand. She gently but firmly pushed him down onto his stomach, exposing his unmarked back. She waited for him to put his ass into the air like she instructed. His rainbow striped socks made the display in front of her even more sexy as he allowed himself to become even more vulnerable than he was before.

Rogerina reached to their bedside table and took out the petroleum jelly they kept stored in it. She dipped her fingers in, mindful of the nail polish she had hastily slapped on her short nails when she was prepping earlier. She put the tin back and positioned herself behind Brian.

“I’m going to touch you okay?”

Brian nodded, pressing his face down into the mattress. Rogerina’s warm fingers slid their way to Brian’s hole, where she began to finger him with two fingers to start with. “Didn’t I say I was going to take care of you?”

Brian eagerly pressed backwards onto her fingers, arching his back. His hair was now a curly cloud around his face. His blush deepened and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Yes,” He gasped out as Rogerina added a third finger in, his eyes watering from behind his eyelids. “Yes, Mommy.”

Rogerina went on for a few more minutes, thrusting her fingers in and out while soft gasps continued to pour out from between Brian’s red lips.

When she eventually withdrew her hand to replace it with something else, it made Brian whimper, but he knew he wouldn’t be empty for long. Rogerina, though now mostly just Roger with a wig at this point, pulled off her skirt.

Brian was biting down rather hard on his lip to the point where the skin around it turned a bit white and that made Roger pause.

“Hey, are you okay?” Roger asked softly, running his hand down Brian’s back gently. Brian nodded.

“Do you want me to stop with the Mommy thing?”

Brian shook his head, nudging his backside closer to Roger, who smirked.

Victory.

Roger cleared his throat and put on his high voice again.

“Look at my needy boy,” Rogerina crooned. “Are you ready for Mommy’s cock now?” Another nod.

Rogerina got behind Brian and positioned herself, admiring for a moment how pretty her glitter nails looked holding onto Brian’s backside. She gave his butt a little slap of warning, and her cock twitched in anticipation. She placed the head of her cock near Brian’s entrance, and slowly she guided herself as she slid inside. Her breath hitched as she met the temporary resistance.

She carefully settled herself, her fingers reaching under Brian and milking his cock. A half sob tumbled out of Brian as he pressed his face into the mattress again and a grunt came when he relaxed enough that Rogerina felt she could thrust.

Brian was now very vocal. His eyes remained tightly shut and his fist clutched at bedding while he used the other arm to brace himself. He got help from Rogerina’s strong drummer arm holding him up too around the middle.

Brian grew steadily louder as Rogerina sped up both with her thrusting and milking his cock. Her hand grew tighter when he moaned out, “Mommy, please don’t stop!”

Roger grunted deeply and moaned Brian’s name as his thrusts became more erratic. It was clear he wasn’t going to last much longer.

Brian followed Roger’s thrusts, and eventually his cries just changed for moans for Roger to keep going. Roger didn’t care about their roll playing anymore, he was now just building towards sweet release, enjoying how warm and deep he was in Brian.

Roger began to let out high pitched squeaks that weren’t just playful exaggerations this time. He often did this before he was about to cum but it was also something Brian knew Roger was very self conscious about.

However, the sound drove Brian crazy. He could feel that he was about to cum himself. He let out one last ‘Roger, Oh my god, fuck, FUCK,” He hit his peak, gasping breaths coming from him deeply while Roger angled to hit his prostate over and over. It was becoming almost too much. Cum dribbled down onto the bed and Roger was still squeaking as he got closer to his own release.

Brian panted, “Finish... on...chest?”

Roger let out a frantic noise of agreement and slipped out of Brian so he could roll over onto his back.

Brian’s hand took over for Roger. Brian flicked his wrist the way he knew Roger liked most. The sight of Roger above him was gorgeous- his wig had unpinned completely and fallen off at some point. His eyeliner ran down his cheeks and his cherubic mouth was open and his head thrown back. It was a wonder Roger could hold himself up at all.

Roger thrust frantically into Brian’s hand, completely a sweaty, sexy mess.

“Bri-”

It didn’t take long for Roger to begin to shake and Brian pointed Roger’s cock to his chest and Roger cried out as he came, watching wide eyed as his cum spread on Brian’s chest. His mouth fell open and he panted. Unable to keep balance anymore, he collapsed next to Brian, absolutely spent.

“s’Good?” Roger said after a couple minutes of holding Brian and panting.

“Yeah,” Brian smiled and ran his fingers through Roger’s short, sweaty, hair.

Roger looked at Brian’s chest and rose a little to kiss it, lapping up the cum he just put there with his soft tongue. Brian sighed softly and ran his fingers over the back of Roger’s neck.

“Am I gonna get punished next time because I broke character?” Brian asked, a mischievous tint to his tone.

“Maaaaaybe,” Roger said sleepily running his fingers in light circles on top Brian’s stomach.

Brian pressed his lips to Roger’s damp brow. “Looking forward to it, Mommy.”

How to Be a Heartbreaker

Four simple rules to follow to break a persons’ heart. Should be easy enough, shouldn’t it? After all, it’s much easier to be a heart-breaker yourself than to have your heart broken. 

Warnings: Language, angst, one description of sexual assault (not rape). 

Word Count: 7.2k+

Based off the song How to Be a Heart-breaker by Marina and the Diamonds

(Unedited, I literally wrote this entire thing in a single sitting and now it’s 2 am so please forgive me, I’ll edit later. I don’t feel entirely sane right now.) 

This is how to be a heartbreaker

Boys they like a little danger

We’ll get him falling for a stranger,

A player,

Singing I lo-lo-love you

The lights at the club were terrible. You could barely see anything and you were practically tripping over your large heels as you climbed the stairs to the VIP area. You went out clubbing with your girlfriends often but tonight was a little different. Mina had recently met one of the city’s largest businessmen through work and he had invited her to bring her friends to one of the newly opened clubs in which he owned a stake. It was the sort of place you couldn’t get into with just money… you needed influence and apparently the men who owned this club had plenty of it.

“Wow, this club is amazing,” one of your friends cooed as your group entered the less crowded VIP area. It was still extremely dark but the music was pumping loudly. You raised an eyebrow at the terrible choice in music; why were they playing a song that was almost a decade old? But your friends were all gaping around in amazement. It wasn’t often that you got to come to the opening of the hottest new club and enter the VIP space. “I can’t believe we’re here; this is literally the hottest place to be in the city right now.”

You rolled your eyes. “You girls must be joking.”

“You don’t like this place?” Mina wondered.

“It’s not that bad. But the lighting is terrible considering that the floor has some stupid patterns carved into it; does nobody think about the fact that women need to walk here in heels? And I haven’t heard this song since I was ten years old. Somebody needs to fire this DJ.”

A deep, amused chuckle sounded behind you. You froze in your steps as you felt someone walk up to you from behind and caught a whiff of expensive, tantalizing men’s perfume. The voice made your entire body shiver as it spoke. “I’m sorry you feel that way. There’s nothing more important to me than making sure women are comfortable in my club,” he drawled. “Welcome, ladies.”

You whirled around to see the most beautiful man you’d ever met.

He was almost entirely dressed in black with silver hair falling into his dark eyes. You had never seen such an angular, perfectly shaped face or such luscious, pouty lips. They turned up into a smirk as he folded his arms across his chest lightly and introduced himself. “I’m Bambam. The owner of this club that you don’t seem to be particularly enjoying yourself at.”

Mina stepped forward flustered. “Hi. I’m so sorry. We were invited here by Jackson Wang-“

Bambam chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours despite addressing Mina. You had to admit that his dark gaze sent a tingle down your spine. You knew the sort of mind games men played and you knew that he was trying to get you flustered with the unwavering eye contact. His voice was low and smooth as he cut Mina off. “Oh, I know. Jackson is one of my investors. He should be around here somewhere, he never fails to find the ladies. But I have to ask. Did you mean what you said about the lighting and the DJ?”

You stared back at him, refusing to break eye contact. “I never say anything I don’t mean.”

“That’s a little upsetting,” Bambam admitted. One of his hands came up to rub his chin and you couldn’t help but notice how large they were; long, slender fingers that looked like they knew what they were doing. He chuckled when he noticed how your gaze had drifted down to yours hands. “I spent a lot of money on modelling this club and on hiring the best DJ. If my patrons aren’t enjoying themselves then something should be done about that. Don’t you agree?”

You smirked. “Some better music would make for a nice vibe.”

“In that case, would you ladies excuse me for a moment? I’m going to go see what I can do about the music. Please; have your first round of drinks on me.”

You rolled your eyes as he walked away, leaving you and your friends alone. One of them grasped your arm and squealed lightly once he was out of earshot. “Oh my God! Do you know who that was? That was Bambam! He’s that super successful model who quit his career a few years ago and became a businessman! He owns like, five or six clubs in the city, a bunch of restaurants and a seven-star hotel!”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes, thank you Miss Wikipedia.”

She blushed. “I read an article about him in a magazine the other day. He’s one of those eligible bachelor types. How exciting! It’s like meeting a celebrity!”

“Stop embarrassing yourself. He’s just a rich man and not an actual celebrity,” you told her. Although you were unwilling to admit it, Bambam had aroused your interest. Nothing pleased you more than putting men who thought they were the shit in their place. “Now, come on. He says he’ll pay for our first round so everyone go order the most expensive thing the bar has. Let’s see how much money this guy is willing to spend on us.”

Tonight would certainly be fun.

--

Bambam returned fifteen minutes later. You smiled to yourself when you saw him scanning the crowd and you knew that he was looking for you. You had found a seat alone by the bar while most of your friends had chosen to either dance, or chat up a group of handsome men nearby. You didn’t move or react to Bambam; you just crossed your legs in order to expose more of your thigh in your risqué dress as he made his way towards you.

“How do you like the change in music?” he asked you, pouty lips twisted into a small smirk as he leaned against the bar.

You sipped your drink calmly. “It’s definitely better. What did you do?”

“Fired the DJ and had him replaced,” he told you.

You raised an eyebrow. Despite looking like a proud man in his expensive clothing and with his smoldering charisma, there was a hint of childishness in Bambam. You were in no doubt that firing the DJ had been a little stunt to impress you. You could see it in his eyes. His insecurity, and his need to inspire awe in other people.

“Interesting,” you commented lightly. “I suppose it’s a relief that you managed to find another DJ but I think if you’d really put some thought into your club then you wouldn’t have hired the first one at all.”

Bambam’s eyes wavered. He licked his lips before letting out a small chuckle and stepping a little closer to you. His leg was now brushing against your knee. You could feel the expensive fabric of his pants against your bare skin. “Wow, you’re not easy to please, are you?” he asked. “Not to worry, I like a challenging woman. Can I ask you to join me for a dance since the music has improved? Or maybe you would like another drink first?”

You smirked. “Depends. Are you buying?”

Bambam chuckled. “I’ll buy as many as you can drink.”

“And I’ll drink as long as you can keep up,” you replied with a smile. “How does that sound to you, Bambam?”

Bambam wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he was completely enraptured by you. Most women either threw themselves at him blatantly or avoided him because he had a reputation for being a player. He had never met anyone like you; cool and confident, your words made you seem unimpressed yet your eyes were dangerously seductive. You were a challenge. A challenge that Bambam had to work for but he was fairly confident that the fruits would be sweet at the end. Women like you were never a disappointment.

“All right. What do you want to drink?”

You licked your lips. “Whisky. Neat.”

He couldn’t help but laugh in surprise. Wow, you were unpredictable. “Going straight for the hard liquor, are we? All right, then. Don’t get too drunk though, I’m hoping to get a dance out of you before the night is over.”

You smirked. “Let’s see if you’re up for it after the drinks. I’ll have you know that I have a very high tolerance for tequila.”

Bambam chuckled as the bartender bought you two glasses of whisky. He clinked his against yours before lifting it up to his lips. You lifted your own glass and let the alcohol burn down your throat, finishing it in one gulp. He seemed a little surprised and mildly impressed when he saw you set your empty glass down and order another one.

“Have I underestimated you?” he wondered.

“I’m afraid you have.”

--

You loved the pleasant buzz the alcohol gave you and you smirked while watching Bambam get progressively drunk. He was trying to keep up with you, drink-for-drink, but you could see how his eyes were becoming slightly unfocused and how he kept running his fingers through his hair. He kept making the silvery strands messier with each stroke. His cheeks were flushed slightly red.

“Are you seriously still sober?” Bambam asked you with a laugh as you gulped down drink after drink and merely smacked your red lips.

“Aren’t you?” you teased. “I’m not even close yet.”

“I don’t believe you. Come here and walk in a straight line,” he insisted, gesturing towards a small empty space in front of the bar. You rolled your eyes and stepped down from the barstool, landing neatly on your feet. You walked over to the other end of the bar and then strutted confidently back towards Bambam. You made sure to swing your hips seductively and you saw his intoxicated gaze scanning your body as you finally stopped a few inches away from him and flipped your hair back. You blew him a small kiss with your hand and then took your seat on the barstool.

“See? Perfectly sober. And I’m in heels.”

Bambam’s eyes had clouded over with lust. You could tell that the alcohol had an effect on him and whether he was only now realizing how attractive you were or whether his inhibitions had only now dropped, he stepped closer until he was inches away from you. His pouty lips were close to your own as he whispered. “That was a cute little show you put on, there.”

You blinked innocently. “Show? I was just showing you that I was sober.”

He chuckled. His voice rumbled deep in his throat as his warm breath tickled your skin. “And somehow, miraculously, you are still sober. But if I have another drink then I might not be able to control myself. I might just lean in and kiss those pretty lips of yours. So you tell me if we should have another drink or not.”

You smiled and leaned closer to him, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. His gaze drifted down to your fingers as you stroked the front of his shirt. “I don’t kiss strange men in public,” you told him in a low, soft voice. Your lips were close to his neck but you never let them touch his skin. “I like to be wined and dined first. So you can have as many drinks as you want, but I won’t be going anywhere with you tonight.”

You expected that he would look disappointed, but to Bambam’s credit he only smiled.

“In that case, let me take you out on a date. Next week?”

You leaned back and looked at him, the challenge in his eyes present. No. You never let the man set the terms. Everything had to be on your own terms and at this moment, you suddenly decided that you didn’t really want to go on a date with this Bambam person. He was a little too pretentious and childish for you and you merely bit your lip and leaned back.

“I’ll think about it. If you’ll excuse me, I believe my friends are leaving…” you said, climbing down from the barstool. You were surprised when Bambam gently grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Wait. You haven’t given me your name or your number or anything. How will I find you again?”

You smiled and then leaned up, moving closer to his face before giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. You let your lips linger on his skin for a few moments so that he could inhale the sweet scent of your perfume and then you pulled back.

“Let’s trust fate, shall we?” you suggested cheekily, before walking away to rejoin your friends. Bambam watched you leave with his eyes fixed on you as his gaze darkened. You were much more of a challenge than he’d originally anticipated and he decided that he had to have you. Nobody in their right mind would lose a woman like you.

Rule number one

Is that you gotta have fun.

But baby when you’re done,

You gotta be the first to run.

--

Bambam found you in less than a week.

He was waiting outside your office building as you exited after work, and you spotted him instantly. It was difficult not to. The man wearing what was clearly a designer suit and leaning against a sleek black sports car was attracting attention from almost everyone on the street. Dark glasses were covering his eyes and he lowered them when he spotted you.

“Hey beautiful,” he called out to you with a smirk. “Have a nice day at work?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He really thought he was smooth, didn’t he? You folded your arms across your chest and nodded. “I did, I had a lovely day actually. And let me guess… you just happened to have some work right outside my office? Is this meeting pure coincidence?”

Bambam chuckled. “Not at all. I realized after you left the club the other night that I don’t like leaving things to fate. Fate isn’t how I made my fortune. I control my own fate so I decided to come and see you. It wasn’t particularly difficult. You signed your name on the VIP sheet at the club that night and Jackson told me that the girls he invited all worked in this office.”

“Wow. Excellent detective skills.”

“You’re laughing at me. I don’t actually mind,” he told you lightly. “In fact, I rather enjoy making people laugh. The question is whether you would be willing to come and have a coffee with me right now. I know a place where they serve an excellent expresso.”

You shrugged. “Coffee doesn’t sound too bad.”

Bambam smirked and held the passenger side door of his car open for you to get inside.

--

Bambam took you to a small café that he owned. You were surprised that he chose such a cute, humble-looking place for what was evidently your first date but he answered your questions before you could even ask him.

“This was the first business I ever opened,” he told you with a smile, as he pushed your chair in for you and made sure you were comfortable. The café had a very cute aesthetic with patchwork quilts on the walls and little artistic sketches framed around. The entire place smelled heavenly, of freshly-made coffee. “I opened this place with the savings from my modelling work a couple of years ago. I could have expanded it, but I chose to leave it as it is and open up other business ventures instead. Not many people know about it.”

“It’s very homely,” you admitted as Bambam picked up the menu.

“Do you want anything in particular?”

You placed your chin in your hand and batted your eyelashes at him seductively. “I think I’ll let you chose for me. Surely you must know what’s good here, if it was the first business you ever set up.”

Bambam smirked. “You won’t be disappointed.”

You weren’t. The coffee tasted amazing and Bambam was surprisingly relaxed. He seemed extremely different from the suave, rich club owner that you’d encountered the previous side. There was a fun, lighthearted and childish side to him that you saw as he joked with you and let loose. You encouraged him to open up; asked him questions about his family and his early modelling career. Bambam admitted to you with a laugh that he had once dreamed about being a singer but he’d ended up a model because of his height and body structure.

You exchanged stories in that cute, cozy little café all evening and got to know each other. You told Bambam a few things about your own life; about your work and where you’d grown up. You kept the stories lighthearted and funny and Bambam listened to you with a lot of interest. Now that you weren’t under the dim, colorful lighting of the club, Bambam looked surprisingly cute and friendly. He even took off his glasses after a while and his eyes were soft as they smiled at you.

“I’ve never enjoyed talking to a girl this much,” he admitted almost shyly, once you had both finished your coffee. “Do you want to get a refill or..?”

You bit your lip. “I have work in the morning. I should probably get home.”

“Right, of course. Let me drive you.”

You followed him out of the café, letting him put his arm around your shoulder as he led you to his car. You were surprised that he didn’t even attempt to ask you to invite him up to your apartment when he dropped you off outside your apartment. Bambam merely gave you a hug goodbye, his arms lingering around your waist briefly as he bit his lip.

“Here. Take my number,” he told you. He handed you his business card with his personal phone number scribbled on the back. “And let me know the next time you want to go out clubbing. I’m willing to challenge you to a few more drinks.”

You laughed and took the card. “I will. Bye, Bambam.”

“Bye.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek lightly, giving him a sweet smile and a cute wave as you disappeared into your apartment building. You took the elevator up to your floor and then peeked out of the window in the hallway; Bambam was still standing on the sidewalk beside your building and smiling to himself stupidly. 

You turned and tossed his business card into the trashcan.

Rule number two

Just don’t get attached to

Somebody you could lose

--

You sighed as you stretched back in your stiff desk chair. Your boss had been pushing you to work longer hours this week and you were exhausted. There was no way out of it; you were due for a promotion to a rather attractive management position soon and you didn’t want to risk your chances so you worked about twice as hard as everyone else. It was getting dark outside when Mina came to your office and grinned.

“Hey, Miss busy bee. Are you staying late again or do you want to go clubbing with us tonight?”

You sighed and looked at the pile of work on your desk. It needed to get done but your brain simply refused to work. You could stay here all night and it probably wouldn’t get done. You needed a break. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come and get a few drinks with you girls tonight,” you replied. It had been a while since you’d last gotten out.

“Oh, good. Because the last couple of times the girls and I went clubbing without you, Bambam looked extremely disappointed,” she teased you with a giggle. “He came up and asked us why you weren’t with us. How the hell did you get a hunk of a man like that wrapped around your finger? He looks like a downtrodden puppy when you’re not there.”

You rolled your eyes. “Getting a man’s attention is easy. Keeping his attention once he knows that you’re interested in him… now that’s the problem.”

“Whatever. Hurry up and don’t be late. Bambam will be delighted to see you.”

--

The club was even more crowded than the last time you’d been here; business was clearly picking up but it didn’t matter to you. You and your friends headed straight to the VIP section courtesy of Bambam, who had put all of your names on the list permanently.

You saw a few of the bouncers whisper to each other as soon as they saw you. One of them went running off to the back room and emerged a few moments later with Bambam in tow. You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself. Had he really told his bouncers to keep an eye out for you? It was both flattering and cute of him. Maybe Mina was right; Bambam was more interested in you than you’d originally anticipated.

Lovely.

“So you finally showed up,” Bambam commented before he joined you, taking a seat on the sofa. His arm came up around your shoulders smoothly and you allowed him to scoot closer to you. He smelled wonderful and you let yourself relax against him. Bambam’s lips were pouting slightly. “You never called even though I gave you my number. I was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.”

You giggled. “You’re not the kind of man a woman forgets easily, Bambam.”

His chest swelled up with pride and his arm around your shoulder tightened. His fingers gently stroked the exposed skin on your upper arm as he angled himself towards you completely. Bambam’s dark eyes were fixed on you and you knew that he’d been waiting for you to come back ever since your little coffee shop date. You could see how attracted he was to you; it was practically written across his face.

“Knowing you, you probably want a drink,” Bambam guessed with a smile.

You giggled. “Then you clearly know me very well.”

“Stay put. I’ll bring you something I just had added to the menu. If you like it, I’m thinking I might just name the cocktail after you,” he teased you, his thumb coming up to stroke your cheek gently. You merely blinked as Bambam stared into your eyes longingly for a moment before finally tearing himself away from you and going to the bar to bring you the drinks. He returned with two cocktail glasses.

“This one remind me of you,” Bambam told you with a smile, handing you the colorful swirling drink. It had tones of dark red and light pink and it had an odd taste; both sour and sweet with a sort of tangy edge to it. He smiled as he watched you sip it. “It tastes sweet one moment and then bitter the next; there’s both a soft cotton candy pink and a dark, seductive red swirling in it. A little bit like you.”

You chuckled. “Oh? Do you really see two such contrasting sides in me?”

Bambam leaned closer to you and placed his thumb on the corner of your mouth. His voice was low as he spoke. “It’s the way you smile,” he whispered softly. “When both your lips curve up like this in a genuine smile then you look adorable; like the most innocent and pure woman in the world. But then you turn those same, gorgeous lips down a little bit into a seductive smirk…” Bambam’s thumb gently brushed against the corner of your lips. “And all I want to do is devour them.”

You looked up into Bambam’s eyes in surprise. There was more emotion there than you expected to see. Had this man really fallen for you? You had assumed that a rich, conceited man like him would never fall for a woman so easily. But he seemed to be wearing his heart on his sleeve. Had nobody taught this poor, innocent man to guard his heart more carefully?

You reached up and gently pushed his fingers away from your lips. “You’re ruining my lipstick,” you told him with a teasing smile.

Bambam chuckled. “And you’re ruining the mood.”

“Well, perhaps the mood wouldn’t mind picking up after I go to the bathroom and fix my lipstick?” you asked with a small smile. You placed a hand on Bambam’s leg lightly before you stood up. His arm dropped off your shoulder reluctantly as he nodded.

“Hurry back,” he told you gently.

You smiled and nodded. “I will.”

You exited the cordoned-off area and hurried towards the bathroom. To be honest, you had suddenly started feeling a little uncomfortable. You had no intention of falling for someone like Bambam. The scars of your past were too fresh for you to even consider ever letting a man into your life. You always kept your guard up, never let yourself fall for someone who could potentially break your heart. The brief happiness that came from being in love wasn’t worth the heartbreak.

But you were doing the same thing to Bambam.

You had assumed that he was just as thick-skinned as all the other rich, self-obsessed men that you met and interacted with, but Bambam was different. He had a soft and sensitive side that wasn’t even buried that deep within him; it simmered just underneath his surface. Should you be playing around with a boy like that? Should you let him continue to fall for you despite knowing that you would never let him into your heart?

As you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you didn’t like the woman who looked back at you. This had gone deeper than you intended.

This needs to end.

You took a deep breath and re-applied your make-up and fixed your lipstick and your dress. You would walk out there and leave. It was better if you never came back to this club again no matter how much Mina and the other pestered you. Bambam wasn’t the sort of person to harass you. Maybe he would track down your phone number and call you a few times but even he knew that you had never promised him anything and so he would let you go even if it hurt him.

Yes. You can do this. Let’s not take things too far.

You walked out of the bathroom, but your heart sank into your stomach as a pair of hands grabbed at you. You opened your mouth to scream but a large hand came down over your mouth and shoved you against the wall. Your head throbbed from the hard contact and you looked up, your vision slightly dizzy from your impact with the wall. A strange man was standing over you with a lecherous grin as he grabbed at your body with a gleeful laugh. “I knew I’d find one of you tarts if I hung around the bathroom. Come here, darling.”

You panicked and struggled desperately, your eyes widening. This man was much too strong for you and you felt your heart sink. Is this seriously happening to me? Am I about to get raped in the middle of a crowded club? Your heart was thudding in your ears as the man tugged at your dress. You heard a ripping sound and you struggled even more, the adrenaline pumping through you. No, no, no, please…

You closed your eyes and sobbed as the man grabbed you more roughly. You had pepper spray in your bag but you’d dropped it somewhere in the struggle and your mind wouldn’t let you consider what your other options were. Tears streamed down your face as you felt the front of your dress rip off. You tried harder to scream.

Suddenly, the hand on your mouth was lifted off. Somebody had ripped the man off you and you were suddenly free. You wrapped your arms around yourself, sinking down to your knees with your back against the wall. Your eyes were blurred with tears but you could see what had happened. A pair of bouncers had appeared but Bambam was the one who was punching the man in the face.

“You-fucker-how dare you!” Bambam spat as his right fist met the man’s face again. One of the bouncers was holding the man down while Bambam hit him, his eyes furious with rage. “Don’t-ever-touch her again, do you hear me? Do you fucking hear me, you piece of filth?”

None of them were looking at you. You took a deep breath and tried to calm down your racing heartbeat. You’re okay. You’re fine. Nothing happened. Your dress is a little torn but nothing happened. Get yourself together. You shakily got to your knees and clutched the front of your dress to your chest to cover yourself completely. A few more deep breaths and you had finally straightened your shoulders and managed to stop the trembling in your limbs. You wiped the tears away from your eyes. 

Bambam finally stopped punching the man and yelled for the bouncers to drag him to the police. He turned towards you, taking off his jacket and handing it to you while averting his eyes from your body. You accepted the heavy black jacket and slipped it over your arms, buttoning it up so that it would cover your exposed chest. Once you were one, you turned and saw Bambam watching you.

“Are you okay?” he asked you gently, his arms reaching out towards you but stopping before he touched your shoulders. “Did he hurt you? Do you need to sit down? I’m so sorry that happened to you. I told the bouncers to be careful around the women’s bathrooms but one of them must have stepped aside for a while.”

You cleared your throat. “I’m fine, Bambam.”

Bambam didn’t look like he believed you. “Really? Are you sure? That man was scary.”

You laughed him off, although your voice sounded alien even to you. Your fists were clenched tightly to help you hold yourself together but you slipped your hands into the pockets of the Bambam’s coat so that he wouldn’t see them. You forced a fake smile onto your face. It looking surprisingly natural; fake smiles were pretty much the only way you ever smiled anyway, and Bambam wouldn’t notice the difference.

“I’m really fine, Bambam. He shook me up a little but I’m okay.”

Bambam reached out to touch your face hesitantly. When you didn’t flinch away from him, he cupped your cheek softly. “Are you sure? Look, you don’t have to pretend in front of me. I know that was terrifying, I would have been terrified too. If you need to talk to someone or… or if there’s something I can do… should I go get your friends? Let me call Mina down here...“

You pushed his hand down before he could lift his phone to his ear. “No. I’m seriously fine, Bambam. I’m just tired because I’ve had a long day at work. I don’t want to ruin the other girl’s fun but I think I want to get home and go to bed. Can you just let them know that I’ve left? I’ll catch a cab-“

Bambam shook his head. “No, I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t need to-“

“Please. For my sake. Just so that I know you’re safe. Let me drive you.”

You forced another smile and let Bambam lead you out into the parking lot, where he helped you into his car. He kept looking at you and you could tell that he was worried about you but you kept your face emotionless. You weren’t going to break down in front of Bambam. You weren’t going to break down in front of anyone. You weren’t going to show a man your weakness and let him think that he needed to protect you from something.

As long as Bambam was watching you, you would pretend to be fine.

Rule number three

Wear your heart on your cheek

And never on your sleeve

Unless you want to taste defeat.

--

Bambam kept asking you if you were all right the entire car ride to your apartment. You were flattered by his concern but you answered his questions simply and without much fuss. After a few cold responses from you he fell entirely silent. But you could see him out of the corner of your eye, constantly checking to see if you were all right.

“Can we play some music?” you asked finally, deciding to break the awkward silence.

Bambam nodded and you fiddled with the music system in his car a little bit, before settling on a radio station that was playing a bright and upbeat song. It helped you relax and even Bambam calmed down once he was convinced that you really were okay. You made a casual joke about the lyrics of the song playing and Bambam chuckled, agreeing with you.

“I really did have a nice time tonight,” you reassured him. “The cocktail was lovely. I’m sorry it didn’t end very well.”

Bambam raised an eyebrow. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who should be sorry. I can’t believe I let something like that happen at my club. I never even imagined that an establishment that I set up could be used by disgusting men like that to get their hands on women. I’ve never been more ashamed in my life and I swear, I’m going to increase the security.”

You nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“But I really should have done it before that happened to you, right? It’s too little and too late,” he muttered. His fingers were gripping the steering wheel tightly and his jaw was clenched. You could tell that he was extremely angry with himself. “I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place. God, I’m such a mess. How am I ever going to manage this mess?”

You blinked at him. “Bambam, it’s fine. I won’t talk about it to anyone, your club won’t get any bad publicity.”

He looked at you incredulously and you could see the anger in his eyes; no longer directed at the man who had assaulted you but at himself. “I’m not worried about the fucking publicity! I’m worried about the fact that the woman I care about got hurt in my club and I don’t know if you’re ever going to forgive me for this. Fuck. I told myself that I would treat you like a princess if I could ever get a woman like you to agree to be mine and then I let this happen.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “O-oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Bambam apologized to you sincerely.

“I-it’s fine. I don’t blame you. Really, I don’t.”

Warning bells were screaming in your mind as you got out of the car and it was getting harder to hold yourself together. You bit your lip so hard that it almost started bleeding. Bambam refused to leave, insisting on riding the elevator up with you and dropping you off at your door. Your entire body was tense and when you finally reached the front door of your apartment, you turned and smiled at Bambam.

“Thank you for tonight, Bambam,” you told him softly.

Bambam stared down at you. His eyes were piercing into yours. You could see him trying to read you, trying to figure out what was going on in your mind. After a few seconds of tense silence he finally dropped his gaze. “No, don’t thank me,” he mumbled. “Just… just stay safe and call me if you need anything.”

You nodded. You stepped closer to him and leaned up, giving him a soft, lingering kiss on the lips before stepping back and smiling. “Good night, Bambam.”

Rule number four

Gotta be looking pure

Kiss him goodbye at the door

And leave him wanting more, more

--

As soon as you closed the door behind you, you felt yourself fall apart.

You leaned against the wall and sank down to your knees, sobs racking your chest. You weren’t even sure what you were crying about. Your palms had nail marks on them from how tightly you’d been clenching your fists and you simply let the tears flow down your face.

Your entire body felt dirty and disgusting. You could still see the man who had assaulted you in front of your eyes and you felt pathetic. Why hadn’t you been able to stop him? How could you have been so helpless and let yourself fall prey to a man like that? You felt hollow and pathetic. You should have been able to defend yourself. You’re so pathetic. What’s the use of a human being who can’t protect herself in this world? You felt scared and lonely as you choked out sobs.

Not only did your body feel disgusting, but you realized how much you hated yourself. How could you let yourself appear so weak in front of Bambam? He had gotten too close to seeing the real you, the vulnerable you that you struggled to hide from the world. Playing with him had been a stupid idea. You should have just stayed as far away from Bambam as you could. No matter what you did, in the end, you were the one who got hurt.

“Fuck.”

You heard Bambam’s low whisper and looked up to see that he had re-entered your apartment. You had forgotten to lock the front door and his tall, slender figure was standing in front of you. His eyes widened as he looked down at you pathetic, sobbing mess crouching on the floor.

“Fuck, I should have known you weren’t okay. Come here.”

You had no power left to resist. You let Bambam wrap his arms around you tightly. He hugged you to his chest and held you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as your sobs calmed down. You felt safe in his arms despite the creeping, unnamed, terrified feeling deep in your heart. But as Bambam looked at you with his soft, gentle eyes and his lips whispered comfort in your ear, you couldn’t remember why you had to be scared of this man. His eyes looked just as vulnerable as yours, his hands were shaking the same was yours were.

You leaned up and kissed him while hoping to forget. Bambam kissed you back through your tears, his arms stroking your back in a gentle, comforting motion. He was strong and he held you up as you both stumbled into your bedroom, your knees weak and your mind blank. You let yourself melt under Bambam’s warm touch as your mind shut off and your body was left to take over your senses alone.

At least when you were in someone’s arms, the pain was a little more bearable.

--

You woke up with a warm body beside you, and to the sound of gentle snoring.

Bambam looked extremely peaceful in his sleep. Rid of the expensive clothing and the Rolex watch and with his messy silver hair flopping into his face, he looked like an innocent young boy and not like the rich business tycoon that he was. Your head felt heavy even though you hadn’t had any alcohol the previous night. You stared at Bambam’s bare face pressed against the side of your pillow for a few moments, a small smile gracing his pouty lips.

Then you got out of bed.

Honestly, you felt a little lost and helpless. What were you doing? How had you allowed yourself to sleep with Bambam last night? Something was muddling your brain and making you incapable of coherent thought. You brushed your teeth silently and then snuck out of the bedroom. You wrapped a robe around yourself as you went to the kitchen and stared at fridge.

You stopped straight in your tracks, feeling as though someone had dumped ice cold water on you.

There, on the fridge door was a single picture. It was held up with a small magnet and it was larger than the average picture because you’d had it blown up intentionally. Ordinary women deleted pictures of the men who’d broken their hearts because they couldn’t bear to look at them. You had done it too; you had cleared your entire phone gallery of years worth of memories with the man who had broken your heart and left you a shattered, sobbing mess.

Except for this one picture.

This picture you’d printed out and had enlarged so that you could stick on your refrigerator every day and look at it. To an outside, it was an ordinary picture of a rather handsome man but it meant so much more to you.

This was the face of a heartbreaker.

You looked at it every single day to remind yourself of the pain a single man had caused you. To remind yourself that even the kindest, sweetest and most noble men would leave you in a heartbeat if they were bored of you. That nothing lasted the test of time. Not love, not affection and certainly not a pair of kind eyes or a soft smile. The nicest men were the ones who pierced the hardest. None of them were to be trusted. They’re all heartbreakers, at the end of the day.

Bambam was no different. He might seem genuine and caring and innocent now, but you had also thought all these things about the man in the picture in front of you at one point. You had truly believed that he was the one for you but he had left you. So would Bambam, so would they all.

At the end of the day, it was much easier to be a heartbreaker than to suffer at the hands of one.

You heard the soft padding of footsteps and a small yawn as Bambam entered the kitchen and blinked at you sleepily. He leaned against the counter and gave you a soft smile, his silver hair a mess on top of his head and his eyes barely open as he squinted at you.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he greeted you in a scratchy, sleep=filled voice. “What are you doing?”

As you tore your eyes away from Jinyoung’s picture, you felt your entire mind clear once again. The cloud had been lifted and finally, you knew exactly what to do. You were not going to have your heart broken once more. 

You raised an eyebrow at Bambam calmly. “I think the question should be what are you doing here.”

Bambam blinked. “Sorry?”

“This is awkward. I was hoping you would have left by now. I mean… you really should have snuck out in the early hours of the morning so that we could have avoided this awkward encounter. I’m not in the habit of having breakfast and coffee with my one-night stands.”

He stared at you for a long moment. You blinked back, refusing to avert your gaze from his. As he stared back at you, you saw it through your eyes. You saw the exact moment that Bambam’s heart broke, that his eyes widened and realization set in. You watched in cold silence as your figurative knife pierced his chest and struck the soft, sensitive organ inside. Bambam stared at you for a long moment  

“I see,” he whispered. “I guess I’ll leave now, then.”

“That would be best.” 

--

Girls, we do

Whatever it will take

Cause girls don’t want

We don’t want our hearts to break in in two

So it’s better to be fake

Can’t risk losing in love again, babe

--

All I Want [tom holland a.u] P.2

A/N: Hiii! Hope you enjoyed P.1! I’ll be posting part 3 tomorrow once I finish editing and all :)

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Smut.

Words: 2.2k

-

I waited most of my week and this evening looking at my phone, hoping to get a text message from Tom. But I received none, not a message, nothing. Not even a simple call or voicemail. Perhaps he had just forgotten? Maybe something came up? Now was not the time to stuff silly excuses into your head.

Shaking your head, you throw your phone onto your bed. What a shame, you thought. You had such a good time talking to him, and you thought he did as well but apparently not everything is as great as it seems.

Sighing, you get off the soft cushion of your bed and head to the shower. Yes, you thought, a nice hot shower to get rid of your stress and take your mind off of Tom for a while. Turning on the shower, you start to wash away your worries and your limbs with some nice suds.

The shower is peacefully long, making you feel refreshed and practically like a brand new person. Wrapping the towel around your body, you do the same with your hair and walk out of the bathroom to your room.

The phone laying sadly on your bed rings, causing you to roll your eyes at it. Just some more useless hope, you thought. If anything it was probably just Missy wondering again if you finally had slept with Tom. You were quite sick of it frankly and didn’t need a reminder of what could have been.

Answering the phone, you snap into the receiver. “Before you say anything, the answer is no Missy.”

“Rejecting me already?” The voice you’ve been dying to hear all week fills your ears. It’s actually Tom. “Also my name appears to be Tom, remember? Or have you forgotten me already?”

“Tom..?” You gape.

He chuckles into the phone. “Yes, that would be me, and you are Y/N.”

“Tom, hi,” You whisper stupidly and you smack your forehead.

“Hi love, how’ve you been? Sorry I haven’t called you, just been quite busy with work but I managed to spare some time for you.” He asks, softly making you smile. He hadn’t forgotten me.

“I’ve been good, and yourself?”

“Well to tell you the truth.. not so well,” He sighs which makes you frown at the noise. “May I ask how come?” You question, worried now.

“It’s just that, I made a reservation for two down at this nice restaurant,” He begins as your frown starts to disappear and morph into a smile. “but I have no one to accompany to it. It would be such a shame for it to go to waste.”

“Oh, what ever will you do?” You play along, biting your lip. “Truly a shame..”

“Yeah… unless, you’d like to join me?”

“Me? Hm, I’d have to check my schedule,” you playfully ponder. “but.. it looks like I’m free after all.”

“Great!” He coughs to hide his excitement then replaces it with a cool tone. “Tonight, at 8 work?”

“Tonight?” You look at the time and widen your eyes, only one hour! You’d have to start getting ready immediately. “Is that a no?” He questions nervously but you quickly reply. “No! I mean yes-no, 8 o’clock, that works.”

“Sounds good, I’ll pick you up?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Um, that’s okay! I’ll meet you there, just text me the address?” The last thing you want is for Tom to see where you live, an old creaky shit-hole in the ruins of London.

“Alright,” he replies, puzzled but doesn’t question further which makes you mentally sigh in relief. “see you soon love.”

“See you,” you whisper and hang up.

Quickly sprinting to the bathroom, you shut the door behind you and begin your process of getting ready for your date with Tom. Since he’s taking you to a restaurant, you decide to apply a tad more makeup than usual.

Some light foundation with a bit of powder and blush to bronze up and sculpt your face. You fill through your brows lightly and apply some mascara to widen your eyes. Finishing off with a pale coral lipstick, you blot your lips.

Happy with the end product, you fix your wet, messy hair into a more appropriate look. Air-drying it, and lightly curling it to make soft waves, you lock it in with some hairspray. Taking a time-check, you realize you have 25 minutes until your date with Tom and bolt to your closet.

You instantly go to your best wear, and pick out a white, off the shoulder top with some high waisted denim jeans and brown heeled boots. Quickly slipping on the outfit, you put in your earrings and spritz some perfume on your neck. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you nod in approval and slip on your coat.

With only 15 minutes left, you head out and check your phone to see where the date will be at. It seems to be a tad far to walk to so you hail down a cab. “44th Broad Street,” you say to the driver and he nods, driving to your destination.

Arriving at the restaurant in 15 minutes time, you pay the cab driver before stepping out and walking to the front. Should you wait for him here? Or go inside? You decide to stand and wait for him instead, looking at the phone to check the time, 8:01p.m.

“Waiting for me?” A sweet voice asks you and you look up. “I didn’t keep you waiting did I?”

“No, I just got here.” You shake your head and momentarily blush at his coy smile.

He looks absolutely handsome tonight. His hair is styled back with a few curls loose that accentuates his perfect bone structure. Sporting a beige coat and a navy blue button up underneath, paired with some black slacks and his boots.

Had you come underdressed? You bite your lip and hope he doesn’t notice.

“Come,” He sticks his arm out and you gladly take it, entering the restaurant. It’s all glitz from what you can tell.

The room is decorated with beautiful paintings and expensive wood furniture, you assume. Chandeliers are hung on the ceiling with a few candles on the tables, adding a nice touch to the old-glamorous vibe the place holds.

“Reservation for Holland,” Tom says to the man in the front counter and he reviews the list before nodding and leading us to the table towards the back.

Everything is so beautiful but you notice the lack of homeliness the place has, unlike your job, making you feel a bit out of place.

“May I take your coat, Bella?” You smile and nod, letting the Italian man take your coat as he does the the same for Tom before leaving us for a moment.

“Allow me,” Tom says, pulling out a chair for you, which makes you smile. You sit and he takes a seat across from you.

“What can I start you off to drink?” The man returns.

“A bottle of your best wine,” Tom smiles at you and the waiter nods, leaving us once again.

You look around the place and notice how peaceful is it, only hearing a few people chatter amongst themselves and classical music being played in the background. You return your eyes to Tom, now surprised, to see his eyes already on you.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he compliments, his eyes bright.

Blushing, you give him a soft smile. “You look sharp yourself.” He chuckles at your compliment and you swear you could fall just at the sound.

The waiter comes back with your drinks, pouring the red wine into two glasses and placing them infront of both of you.

“So what were you planning on doing with your reservation of two, before you oh, so asked me to accompany you?” You grin deviously before taking a sip from your cup. He grins back and leans forward.

“Can you keep a secret?” He whispers and you play along, nodding and leaning forward. “Good, so can I.”

“You don’t play fair, do you Mr. Holland?” You playfully remark, leaning back into your seat and he chuckles.

“Ah, I’m just teasing you love,” the nickname swells up your heart. “I was just hoping you’d go on a date with me.”

“A date? So this is a date?” You smile, teasing now.

“Only if you’d like it to be,” he smiles back. “that is of course.” You take another sip.

“I wouldn’t mind,” You whisper and he grins.

“So, you seemed to have been rather angry on the phone at the beginning, care to explain why?” He questions and you almost gulp.

“O-Oh that, I just thought you were my friend Missy.” Keep it cool, keep it cool. “Oh you were expecting someone else? Hope I didn’t disappoint.” He smiles sympathetically.

“No! I’m glad it was actually you in the end…”

“Actually me..?” He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his wine. Shit. Why, oh why did I open my mouth? Your subconscious clicks her tongue and shakes her head at you.

“I just,” You sigh and decide to come clean. “I just didn’t think you’d call and I got fed up with hearing my phone ring so much.”

“You didn’t think I’d call? Why?” He looks surprised. What for?

You shrug. “Just thought you forgot about me I guess.”

”Oh love, quite the contrary if I’m being honest,” He chuckles.

“I would have called you earlier had it not been for my busy schedule, being out of the city and all,” He explains and you suddenly feel dumb. “I thought you deserved more than just some sleazy text and that I’d give you a proper call. I was just waiting for the right time.”

“…You were?” You’re such an idiot. He nods.

“I’m sorry if you thought of it differently, but trust me when I say that you’ve been on my mind ever since we said goodbye that night.” He smiles and reaches for your hand, holding it with his as your cheeks begin to warm up.

“It’s not your fault, I was just being dumb and overreacting,” You laugh nervously. “I tend to do that.”

“Well then, let’s not think about that anymore and enjoy ourselves tonight, hm?” He grins and you nod, looking at the menu to see what else looks good tonight, besides him.

Two hours pass and you eat the most exquisite meal of your life. Carefully roasted meat and a fresh tossed salad with a hint of citrus that made your mouth explode with flavor. But now that you were a few glasses of wine in, you were suddenly craving something else, but you didn’t know what.

“Any dessert?” The italian waiter asks, taking our plates in one hand while refilling over glasses again. Another cup? Why not!

“The usual Giovanni,” Tom grins and the man nods, leaving us.

“Did you like the food?” Tom asks you, and you nod happily.

“Everything was so delicious, thank you for bringing me here.” You smile.

He throws you a small wink. “Anything for you.”

Attempting to not seem affected by such a small thing, you pretend to sip from your wine. But you’re sure he knows better, as he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb with a cheeky grin on his face.

The waiter comes back with the dessert, quickly placing it down on the table and is gone once more. It’s a small, glass cup with a scoop of mocha gelato, topped off with a mint leaf on the side and two silver spoons beside it.

“You need to try the gelato here, it’s the best I’ve had,” Tom says brightly, taking a scoop on his spoon of his dessert and leaning it towards your mouth. You take it, carefully licking off the sweet ice cream. The taste is so, so good on your tastebuds and you close your eyes momentarily.

Opening your eyes, you take a look at Tom through your lashes and all you can see is the dark gaze he holds. Oh my, did I eat it too inappropriately? Now embarrassed, you sit up and take another sip of your wine to hide your blush.

”Good, no?” He asks huskily, eyes trained on your mouth now.

”Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You reply, your voice now dropping an octave or two.

Your stomach begins to tingle and your legs start to squirm. He leans forward and wipes the corner of your mouth, then sucks off the substance from his thumb.

“I can think of another thing that might taste better in your mouth.” He replies smoothly and his words go straight to your core. Oh my.

“Hm, like what?” You smile, batting your lashes at him.

He mimicks your smile, leaning forward and you feel his tip of his shoe run up your calve under the table. “Perhaps it’s better to demonstrate, but I can assure you that you’ll enjoy it.”

“Want to put that to the test?” You challenge flirtatiously. Your inner goddess is doing flips and applauding you for being so courageous.

“Mine or yours?” He leans closer to you and you smile coyly. “Yours.”

He bites his lip and raises his hand up in the air, signaling the waiter over. “Can we get the check please,” He asks, and the waiter nods.

When you’re alone again, he turns to you and gives the naughtiest grin, that it makes your knees practically wobble.

Oh you’re in for a treat.

-

P.3

Good To Be Back

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Mark and his parents (OC)

Word Count: 3,542

Warnings: Jealous!Dean, fluff at the end

Request: Hey !I was wondering if you can do a Dean x Reader where they go on manhunt in the readers old town where she grew up and they run into her first love and things are kinda awkward since you left him to be a hunter and Dean is really jealous 

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Feedback is always appreciated

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Ever since you became a hunter, you’ve had to leave everything you knew behind. You cut all ties with the people you knew including your friends, family, even the person you loved the most: Mark Register. You had to drop them because you knew if any kind of monster knew who they were, they would use them as leverage to get to you.

It was hard, not going to lie. You left your family on good terms, telling them that you had to leave the town because you had some things to figure out. You’ve kept tabs on them so you knew they were safe and you would always leave them anonymous messages letting them know that you were safe and healthy, that you still loved them.

But your friends, on the other hand, didn’t go so well. Some of them understood you had to leave but your best friend, Melissa, didn’t understand that at all and was pissed that you were leaving. Before becoming a hunter, you and she were inseparable, always doing things and planning your lives together.

Then you dropped a bombshell on her that you were leaving and that things have changed but she was pissed at you. She had a huge fight with you and as much as you hated leaving her alone, you had to. It was easier this way.

Mark, on the other hand was heartbroken. You were each other’s first love. He was your first everything and as much as you wanted to be together, you just couldn’t. Before hunting, you thought that you would marry Mark and have a family together but then you left and met Dean Winchester.

You were so young, you didn’t fully know what love was but as you grew, you understood it and what you had with Mark, as much as you hated to say it, you didn’t love him as much as you loved Dean. Dean could make you feel things that Mark never could. Dean made you feel alive, he made you feel special and he made you feel safe.

Dean was the love of your life but he wasn’t yours. You knew he thought of you as a friend or even as a little sister. You knew your feelings were silly but you couldn’t help it. You saw Dean every day and you saw him at his weakest point and at his best. He knew more about you than anyone will ever get to know.

You took care of him when he was hurt and was there for him when he needed someone to be with. He did the same thing to you but just as a friend. You tried telling him once that you liked him but he shot you down before you could get everything out.

“Dean, I have something I want to say to you before I psych myself out.” You said, standing in front of him. He looked up from his laptop and gave you his full attention.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned that you were hurt.

“Nothing is wrong, I’m fine. But we’ve been together since before I even got out of high school. You’ve been there for me when no one else was. You’re my best friend and I couldn’t have asked for a better one. I don’t know if you feel the same way about me as I do about you but…”

“Y/N, I am going to stop you right there.” Dean said, interrupting you.

“Yeah?” You asked with a smile, hope in your tone.

“You know I like you. You’re the only woman I my life that has been consistent and I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. But that’s all you’ll ever be. Is a friend.” You lost your smile, trying to think of a way out of this to save yourself from feeling humiliated.

“Dean, if you would let me finish, I was going to say that I don’t know if you feel the same way about me as I do about you but you’re my best friend and I don’t think no one could ever replace you because you mean that much to me. Now, I don’t know if you feel the same way, but there it is.” You said, laughing it off, lying to him.

“Okay, good,” Dean said with a laugh. “I thought you were going to declare your love to me or something.”

“No, why would I do that?” You said, joking it off. He nodded and winked at you, going back to whatever he was doing on his laptop. You gulped and walked back to your room where you cried for hours.

He never felt the same way about you and you just had to forget about it but it was hard when he was with you every second of the day. So, when you found a case in your hometown, you got excited, hoping to see everyone you left behind. You knew it wouldn’t be easy but you wanted to try and fix your relationships.

“Sweetheart, you ready?” Dean asked, poking his head in your room.

“Yeah.” You said, grabbing your duffel bag. You turned around and smiled at Dean, walking past him.

“Are you wearing perfume?” Dean asked, getting a whiff of it.

“Yeah, I am. Why? I can’t smell nice?” You asked, looking back at him.

“No, you can. Just making an observation.” Dean said. You were hoping that Mark was still in town and that you maybe might run into him. Before Dean, he had been the perfect boyfriend and if Dean didn’t want you, maybe Mark still did.

You got into the Impala and in no time at all, you were zooming down the road. It didn’t take long to get to the motel you were staying at.

“Wow, this place is exactly how I remember it.” You said, looking around the town.

“Maybe you’ll find some of your old friends.” Sam said, looking around.

“Yeah, maybe.” You said, walking inside the motel room.

“So, what are we doing first? Going to the morgue or interviewing families?” You asked, taking out your Fed clothes.

“I can go to the morgue and you two can interview the families.” Sam said, shedding his jacket.

“Sure, let me get changed and I will be right out. “You said to Dean, walking into the bathroom. You didn’t know who was going to be interviewed but you were ready, whoever came into your path. It didn’t take long for you to get ready and before you knew it, Sam was already gone so it just left you and Dean alone.  

“You ready?” You asked, walking out of the bathroom, putting on your earrings.

“Yeah.” Dean said, grabbing his keys. You looked up and your heart fluttered at the sight of Dean in a suit. He looked gorgeous as always and as time went on, he got even better looking. He was like wine, he got better with age. You sighed when he left for the car and you looked in the mirror.

You didn’t know how long you could pretend that everything was alright when it wasn’t. You loved Dean and that wasn’t just going to go away. He didn’t love you back and that won’t ever change. You heard him honk the horn and you sighed, pushing your feelings down and walked out to him, getting inside the car.

“Sorry, who are we going to first?” You asked.

“Mr. Carson Register. Apparently, he saw something and have been trying to warn people but no one is believing him.” Dean said, driving down the road.

“Register?” You asked, immediately thinking of Mark. You knew for a fact that he wasn’t living with his parents but maybe he would be home. It was a long shot but you hoped for it. This way, you might be able to get over Dean with a few hookups. You knew that it was bad but you couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, why, does that name mean something to you?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Dean, you know I had a boyfriend named Mark Register. Carson is his dad.” You said, biting your lip.

“And you think Mark will be home? Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.” Dean said with a chuckle.

“I’m not.” You said in a small voice, crossing your legs. Dean got to their house and it was just like you remember it. You figured they would have moved out of this small town but guess not. Their house was always nice so you understood why they didn’t give it up.

You got out and looked across the street where you used to live. You knew your parents moved away but it was still your childhood home. It looked the same on the outside, you just didn’t know if it was still the same inside.

You and Dean walked up the steps and you knocked on the door, getting a bit anxious. Mark’s parents loved you but not after you left their son. You were with Mark for 3 years in high school, that you were for sure going to be with him for a long time. But that didn’t happen.

The door opened and Mark’s mother answered it. Her eyes landed on Dean and then slid to you.

“Can I help you?” She asked. She didn’t seem to remember you but you assumed it was because the last time she saw you, you were a child and, well, you grew into your body nicely. You looked very different from when you were 16 years old.

“Yes, my name is Agent Foster and this is my partner…”

“… Y/N Y/L/N.” You said, her eyes snapped to you and they widened. She took a step back and drank you in. Dean looked at you, confused as to why you used your real name. You couldn’t have given a fake name because if they remembered you, they would ask questions and you didn’t need that.

“Y/N? You’re back in town?” She asked, her eyes not leaving yours.

“Not quite. I’m here on business.” You said, showing her your badge.

“You work for the FBI?” She asked and you nodded. “Carson, come here, would you?”

“Actually, may we come inside? We have a few questions for your husband.” You said. She nodded and stepped back, letting you come inside. Their house was just the same as it was all those years ago. It brought back many, many memories and suddenly, you wished that you hadn’t taken this case.

“What is it, Beverly?” Carson said, coming down the stairs.

“Look, it’s Y/N as in Mark’s Y/N.” Beverly said, standing next to her husband.

“Y/N, wow, long time no see. You look different.” He said.

“Well, I was 16 the last time you saw me.” You said, chuckling awkwardly. You looked at Dean for some help and he nodded, stepping up.

“Mr. Carson, we would like to ask you a few questions about what you saw the other day regarding the death of Mary Webber.” Dean said, acting professional, showing him his badge.  

“I didn’t know the FBI would be interested in a case like this.” He said, walking down the hall and to the living room.

“Yes, well, I only go where they send me.” Dean said, following him. You looked over at Beverly to see her staring at me.

“Look, I know the last time we saw each other, we didn’t end on good terms but that was 17 years ago.” You said.

“You just lefty my son, never taking in how he must have felt.” She said, accusing you.

“Look, Beverly, I had some things to sort and that is why I left. I loved Mark and I felt terrible but it was just something I had to do.” You said, turning on your heels and following Dean inside the living room. You and Dean finished up questioning Carson and you got up to leave.

“Y/N?” You looked up and you met the eyes of the one person who you were afraid of seeing.

“Mark, hi.” You said, standing up straight.

“It’s good to see you again. You look amazing.” He said, looking at you up and down.

“And who are you?” Dean asked, hating the way Mark looked at you.

“Mark, Y/N’s ex.” He said, holding out his hand for Dean to shake. But that shake never came.

“Dean, I’ve mentioned Mark before.” You said, looking at Dean.

“You’ve mentioned me? I mean, you talk about me?”

“Of course, I talk about you. We’ve dated for three years.” You said, looking back at Mark.

“Right, then you left me.” Mark said, suddenly remembering the past. You nodded awkwardly and looked at Dean, taking his arm.

“We should go. It was nice seeing you again.” You and Dean walked out of the house but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Hey, could I talk to you for a minute?” Mark said, his hand never leaving you. You looked at Dean to see a hard look on his face.

“I’ll meet up with you, Dean.” You let go of Dean and he glared slightly at Mark before leaving you two alone.

“I didn’t know you were FBI.”

“Yeah, I love it.” You said, referring to hunting but he didn’t need to know that.

“Why are you back? What does the FBI want in this town?” He asked.

“The death of Mary Webbers. I know, weird but I go where they send me.”

“Right, well, if you ever need any help with the case, I mean, I am a police officer so I want to help you in any way that I can.” He said with a smile.

“You would do that for me?” You asked, smiling lightly.

“Of course, you know, I’ve missed you. This town hasn’t been the same ever since you left us.” You said. But you knew he meant me, not us.

“Really? At least your house didn’t change.” You said, biting your lip.

“Why did you leave?”

“You know why, Mark.” You sighed.

“No, you just decided to up and leave. You didn’t even finish high school. We were meant to be together and you just left me.”

“Look, Mark, I had to leave. There are things you don’t understand and I can’t really talk about it right now.” You looked over at Dean to see him impatiently waiting. He pointed to his watch and you nodded.

“Well, look, call me if you need anything.” He said, handing you his card. You took it and smiled at him, nodding.

“Thanks.”

“It was nice seeing you.” Mark said, leaning in and kissing your cheek. You blushed softly and smiled, walking back to Dean.

“It’s about damn time. It’s not like we have a case or anything.” Dean said, annoyed with you. He didn’t like Mark at all.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I would ever see him again. It was nice.” You said, smiling to yourself.

“Great, the only useful thing that happened was finding out that Carson knew nothing and that you got his son’s number. Great.” Dean said sarcastically.

“Actually, Mark is an officer and I bet he has records of Mary’s death. He only wants to help. I’ll give him a call later. Let’s just see what Sam found out” You said.

“I’m telling you Sam, you should have seen the way he looked at her.” Dean said, whispering hastily at his brother. The walls of the motel room were thin and you were in the bathroom, getting ready to meet with Mark.

“And? You didn’t want her and he does.” Sam said, typing away at his laptop.

“No, this is different. It was like he wanted to devour her right there. I’ve seen pictures of her when she was in high school. She’s grown… a lot and I’m just trying to look out for her.” Dean said, scoffing.

“Look, she’s meeting with him about the case. Nothing may even happen. Why do you care anyways? I thought you didn’t like her like that.” Sam asked. You didn’t want to hear all about how Dean didn’t love you like you loved him.

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked, walking out of the bathroom. Both boys stiffened up, more so Dean than Sam.

“Nothing, you going out like that?” Dean asked. You frowned, looking at yourself in the mirror. You were wearing a cute dress with snappy sandals.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You asked, looking at him.

“Nothing, aren’t you meeting with him about the case?” Dean asked, biting his own tongue from saying anything else.

“And I can’t dress like this?” You asked, putting a hand on your hips.

“How are you even getting there?” Dean asked, changing the subject.

“Mark is picking me up.”

“Of course, he is.” Dean muttered with an eye roll. There was a knock on the door and you smiled, grabbing your purse.

“That would be him. I’ll see you later.” You opened the door and Mark stood there, a smile on his face. He had a rose for you and you blushed, taking it.

“You look amazing.” Mark said, checking you out again. Dean huffed out and looked at Sam for help.

“Thank you,” You looked at the brothers to see them whispering and you sighed, setting the rose down on the table near the door.

“Shall we?” You nodded and took Mark’s hand, walking out with him. This should be interesting.

“Where the hell have you been? It doesn’t take 5 hours to talk about one little case.” Dean said when you walked back in the motel room.

“Sorry, Dean, we lost track of time.” You said, the smile never leaving your face. It felt so nice to catch up with Mark. No, you weren’t obviously getting back together but it was nice, pretending like nothing had changed. You even let him steal a kiss or two.

“Did you find out anything?” Sam asked.

“Yes, actually.” You told them everything Mark had told you. With that information, you knew what happened to her, who killed her, and where their bones were. This case was easier than you thought.

“Do you seriously have to do that?” Dean complained. You were texting Mark with a smile on your face. You were texting him when you were supposed to be helping them dig up the body.

“Sorry.” You apologized, grabbing your shovel and dug into the ground. You got into 3 digs and your phone went off again. You stopped and grabbed it, looking at his message.

“No, you know what, put the damn phone away and help out. I’m sick of you always being with him.” Dean finally snapped. Sam sighed and stopped digging, looking between the two of you.

“What? Dean, what is your problem?” You glared at him after replying to Mark.

“You are my problem. You think Mark likes you for you? You think he remembers you as the little girl he once knew? No, he just wants to get into your pants.” Dean said, glaring at you.

“Okay, I think we left the arsenal in the car. I’m going to check.” Sam said, leaving you. You knew that wasn’t true because the can was right next to your feet but he didn’t want to be apart of this.

“So, what if he wants that? At least someone does. If I remember correctly, you were the one who called me a friend. You said, and I quote, “but that’s all you’ll ever be. Is a friend”.” You glared.

“Well, maybe I lied.” Dean said, sighing deeply.

“What? Why would you lie?” You asked, confused more than ever.

“Because, every woman that I love end up either dying or leaving me and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. You are too important to me.” Dean said, admitting the truth.

“You love me?” You asked in a small voice.

“Of course, I love you. Who couldn’t love the way you care for people? Or the way you smile, laugh, cook or the way you keep going even if you’ve gotten hurt. Who couldn’t love you? Mark was a lucky man for having you and if you want him and not me, then I guess I will have to deal with it but I need to hear you say it.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Dean looked at you confused. “Of course, I’m going to pick you. I love you, Dean and that never changed. It’s always going to be you, no matter who came back into my life. I tried to tell you how I feel but you shot me down so I didn’t act upon it. It’s always been you.” You said, realizing just how close you’ve gotten.

Dean closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours, kissing you way better than Mark ever could. You held onto Dean, praying that this wasn’t some kind of dream but that it was real. Your tongues tangled with each other and it was the best feeling you could have ever felt.

“I promise, I am not letting you get away.” Dean whispered when he pulled away.

“You better not.” You said with a smile.

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Forever tags:

@the-band-parade @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @innernightwerewolf

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @winchesterandpie @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

Other tags:

@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @27bmm

The Unknowns: Two

This is a continuation for The Unknowns.  Which was a one shot and is now a long ass Prologue.  Part One.

Dean x Psychic!reader

Teaser/Summary: An AU sparked from a songfic challenge, The Unknowns is based on Season One Episode Nine, Dean met reader in Lawrence as a child and they created an unbreakable bond. At the end of The Unknowns, reader decided to stick with her boys because she felt something coming but she holds secrets; one she holds close to her heart and a few that she doesn’t even really know yet.

Word count: 6686

Lines borrowed from season one episode twelve, “Faith” in Bold.

The drive was quiet for the boys but their emotions were tumultuous even though they were trying to control it. Fortunately, baby always had a hypnotic effect on me, humming me to sleep when I truly needed it.

Fingers brushed over my cheek then my lips, the sensations pulled me from a dreamless rest. Dean smiled, his eyes echoing things churning inside me. He was getting worse but that familiar warmth still lit up and swirled at his touch.

He kissed me but it was too soft and too quick. I groaned and he chuckled, “we’re here. Sam’s waiting out in the mud.”

I sat up and looked out the front windshield as Dean opened the door. “I thought we were going to some special cardiac hospital?”

Dean climbed out and smirked as he held out his hand for me. “Yeah, apparently specialist doesn’t always mean doctor.”

I took his hand and climbed out then Dean laced our fingers together. Dean and Sam bickered as we made our way to the tent but I was too consumed by the heaviness hovering in the air to listen. I tried to pinpoint the source but the cloud cover only seemed to enhance it, bouncing it back down on the tent and mud.

The house nearby was surrounded by a flickering darkness. Shadows played off every corner as if the house itself were a black hole merely pretending to be an inviting object. It sent a shiver down my spine and Dean squeezed my hand.

We had stopped walking and I had twisted so far to continue studying the house that my arm ached. Like always, Dean had kept a hold of me, grounding me without derailing my perusal. I turned around and caught Dean’s glance, his brows drawn together before he looked forward with a tilt of his head. I followed his gaze to a pretty blonde woman in front of us. “Layla, this is Y/n.”

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand and I shook it bracing for the worst but I was surprised. She was so calm, like a tranquil lake on a beautiful day.

I gave her a genuine smile, “you too. Sorry, I was just off in my own world.”

“A nicer day than this, I hope.” I never quite believed it when I met a genuine optimist like the woman in front of me. She was dying but she was happy in her place, there was a hope there, a sense that everything had its time and reason. Not exactly someone I would associate with a faith healer in the middle of nowhere but then I’m a little biased. The tent revival scene reminded me way too much of cults and all that Jim Jones kool aid shit was terrifying.

“Thank you.”

“Come on, Layla, it’s about to start.” An older woman wrapped her arm around Layla and flashed a fake smile at us while turning her away. She still managed to smile kindly before allowing the older woman to lead her off.

“You okay?” Dean turned toward me squeezing my upper arms as he studied my face. Sam too but he looked away when Dean hugged me. His mouth brushing my ear, “we can leave, you just say the word. I’d rather spend a little time with just you in a bed somewhere.”

I glanced at the house and squeezed him, “we are in no condition for that kind of vigorous activity.”

His chuckle vibrated against my chest, “just because I want you naked, doesn’t mean we have to do any heavy lifting.” The image flickered to life in my head, the two of us skin to skin just talking and basking in the heightened sensation that swelled whenever we were together like that. We never could figure out a word for it, sometimes Dean joked that it was a high and that it was all in our heads. I once thought it might just be in mine.

I looked up at him and brushed my fingers over his lips, “I would love nothing more but if we don’t try…” That twinge in my chest again that only reminded me how exhausted I was but Dean kissed me and I fell into his distraction.

He pulled back with a cheeky smile but his eyes were far too tired to complete it. “Where’s that fearless woman that faced an ancient nature God to save my sorry ass?”

I pressed my hand to his heart and felt its sluggish pumps as it tried valiantly to keep blood circulating like normal but physically wasn’t up to the task. My heart kicked, pumping harder in response. Dean was always different for me, I could always feel more when it came to him but this was on a completely different level. I finally looked up into his sleepy gaze, “Sam and I can cut some ropes and burn down a tree. But this… “ I closed my eyes as his grief and guilt ricocheted through me.  

He pressed his forehead to mine, his voice barely a whisper filled with a sadness that gave a different weight to the words I’d heard so many times, “best friends forever.”

I stared into his eyes with a surge of energy swirling in my chest that I shoved his way. I had to have hope, I couldn’t let him go. “And ever.”

His eyes lit up and Sam tapped my shoulder. “Sorry, but we should get inside.” Dean grabbed my hand and started forward as Sam fell into step just behind me. “What did you see?”

I glanced at Sam, “the tent and the house… It’s like things I’ve seen before but different. It’s weird.”

“You can say that again.” Dean stepped inside the tent and I glanced back again before entering.

The atmosphere was a lot like a hospital or cheap clinic with the same emotions and scents except for that sterile component, the cleaning agents that gave a sharp orange or bleach tang that permeated the air. This was more field hospital but even that was putting it gently. Sure, no one was outright bleeding but the tinge of blood was there. Maybe that was just me. Sam and Dean didn’t seem bothered by it and it was too strong for them not to be.

I glanced around feeling the heavy darkness even more to an almost stifling point. Dean squeezed my hand again and I met his gaze. He was concerned. The man was dying and he was concerned about me. “It’s okay… sort of.”

Sam pulled us to the front, kindly asking a few people in the second row to move down filling an empty seat on the other side so the three of us could sit directly in front. I was surprised once again by the kindness the people showed until I spotted the woman with Layla sitting right front of us frowning at Sam. I sat beside him doing my best not to glare right back at the woman as Dean took the seat on the end and leaned against me. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. Something’s off.” I whispered very aware of Layla’s companion watching me from the corner of her eye.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

I was too nervous to take Dean’s bait and worried my bottom lip between my teeth. Dean’s thumb was rubbing mine in a soothing motion when Roy La Grange began his sermon and my roaming gaze paused on the table behind him. Sam nudged my arm and tilted his head indicating the very table I was just studying.

I leaned into Sam, “Coptic cross. A little old school for a revival tent.”

Sam nodded and I caught another scathing look from what I could only guess was Layla’s mother. I could slap that woman without regret if it wasn’t for the desperation that wafted off her like the cheap perfume and cologne others were using to mask the scent of impending death.

Dean mumbled a sarcastic remark and I flinched throwing him a disapproving look as I squeezed our joined hands.

Roy called him out, playing to the crowd with a clever and lighthearted reply. My stomach flipped. Dean’s hand tightened in mine as he shifted in his seat. The man was going to call him up but for some reason, I didn’t want him to go. It was crazy, it wouldn’t do any harm but there was a tug of war inside me. Dean’s agitation and slight panic only provoked both sides to pull harder. Sam’s hope surged forward and my head began to throb.

“I want you to come up here with me.”

I turned wide eyes on Dean but his gaze dropped as he shook his head. Roy continued trying to draw Dean up as the crowd encouraged him and emotions were slamming into me from all sides. The filters and blocks I learned to put in place at the age of six so I wasn’t overwhelmed were second nature but ever since waking up in the hospital it was like a dance I knew but my steps were clunky and stiff and not quite right.

I looked at the man who claimed to be a healer and focused on him while shutting out everything else.

Roy replied to Dean, “I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.”

Dean’s gaze was on me and I could almost hear him shouting for my opinion, my direction. I met his gaze and whispered the only thing I knew for sure, “he truly believes every word he said.”

Sam told him to go and I withdrew my hand from his, immediately cold at his loss yet the tug from two sides continued. I followed him with my gaze and listened to his conversation with Roy then his gaze sought mine again as Roy called the room to pray.

It started slow and quiet, a hissing just beyond my perception but loud enough along the periphery. I grasped Sam’s hand and he squeezed back but not because he heard it too. No, he thought I had hope, I could feel his own warming my hand and swelling in my chest but the feeling creeping along my skin was so far removed from that. The healer’s hand pressed to Dean’s head and the cold from Dean’s loss was replaced with a heavier dry chill, it slithered up my spine until it settled at the base of my neck and pulsed.

I gasped as Dean fell to his knees and a man appeared, old and decrepit. My chest convulsed and I squeezed Sam’s hand shouting for help but unable to actually vocalize it. Dean fell back as the heavy chill washed over me and I was frozen staring at the old man, the thing glaring over my head before turning that look on Dean. It was frustrated and angry, the emotions were coming off it in waves charging the air around it.

Sam moved around me and rushed up to Dean but I couldn’t move, I was physically stuck in the chair by the freezing weight still on me. The old man finally turned and disappeared. I drank in as much air as I could and threw up every block I knew to shield myself.

Dean sat up, his wild gaze flitting around before landing on me. His stare uneasy and confused but I knew without a doubt, he saw the old man too.

A few hours later, Dean was holding me against him skin to skin in the small motel bed while Sam was snoring in the neighboring one. Neither of us had discussed what had been on that stage. Sam had been so elated that things were different, in a good way for a change, that we didn’t want to burden him. At least not until we knew for sure what was going on. When we got into the room, Dean had made an appointment with a doctor in town for the next morning and we silently made a pact to keep it between us.

His fingers had been brushing through my hair for the last hour and hadn’t stalled at all. There was a newfound energy there but he thought it was tainted, he felt guilty. I may not have the ability to read thoughts per se but I knew him maybe better than I knew myself.

I stroked Dean’s chest as the day’s events ran through my head again, “he truly felt you were picked by God. That was real belief, even if you hadn’t made that remark, he would have picked you. When he patted me on the back when we left, he whispered ‘two for one’.”

“He thought you’d kill yourself if I died or something?” He pulled me impossibly closer as the thought itself frightened him. One of his greatest fears was hurting those he loved. He might already be blaming himself for something that never happened.

“I don’t know. All the odd sensations I felt, none of them came from him. He was… light. There was nothing different about him, nothing I wouldn’t expect. This is all very real for him and I think he would be devastated if he knew that something twisted was happening each time he healed. It doesn’t make any sense.”

He squeezed me and kissed the top of my head. “We’ll figure it out.” The heaviness in his statement settled upon my chest and I nuzzled into him.

“I can’t be sorry he saved you. I can’t regret that. I don’t regret coming here.” From the moment we left that tent, I had felt ten times better and it was more than just the loss of the exhaustion, it was the reversal of whatever was breaking apart deep inside me.

“It’ll be better tomorrow. After some sleep.” But he didn’t believe a word of it. He was afraid and maybe felt like he was on borrowed time that would be ripped away at any moment. I knew that feeling even though I had never been so close to death but it was an impression I had never been able to fully erase from my memory. No matter how good I thought I was at leaving things in the past, some things refuse to be forgotten.

“Dean…” I pushed up so I could look him in the eye.

He gave me a lopsided grin and touched my cheek like I was something delicate which meant that he felt fragile, “I know I don’t need to lie. I just wanted to calm you.” There was a peace that passed between us and I knew he could feel it but Dean Winchester would always be the protector.

“I’m with you.” I kissed him because there was no need for any more words.

~~

Two familiar quiet voices coaxed me into consciousness. Dean and Sam were whispering near the end of the bed. I blinked away the lingering sleep and murmured, “are you guys leaving already?”

Dean walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure you don’t want to come?”

It was tempting, he did feel better this morning. His energy was bright and spinning. “I think I’ll take the airport instead of another trip to a hospital and Rev Roy’s.”

Dean leaned down and kissed me, lingering a little longer than a usual morning. His guilt still weighed heavy on his shoulders but wasn’t as present as last night. I grabbed the back of his neck as he started to pull away, “it’s not your fault. We were supposed to come here. I know it.”

His eyes flicked back and forth then he kissed me again. “Best friends forever,” He whispered, dipping his fingers below the sheet teasing light touches at the top of my chest. I was reminded just how naked I was under that thin material. He flashed that knowing smile and pulled the sheet up.

“And ever.” His antics were refreshing. A reminder that he was still alive and still my Dean.

Sam smiled from the open door and gave me a small wave before walking away. I sat up holding the sheet to my chest as Dean grabbed the doorknob pulling the door with him. He stopped with a final look in my direction, “I’ll see you soon.”

“No stupid moves without me.”

“Never.”

He pulled the door closed and I searched for the cold residual in my chest from yesterday whenever he let go of my hand. It wasn’t there but there was something else that I couldn’t remember noticing before, not consciously anyway, but I felt him moving away. At least, for a while.

I shook it off as I checked my phone then walked into the bathroom for a quick shower. I never lingered on things I couldn’t explain just like I learned at a young age to never stay angry because life was far too short and no one ever knew when their time was up.

Mary taught me that. My father reinforced it.

I turned the water on with my mind still spinning. I went back to the small table between the beds and turned on the radio, flicking through stations before finding the right one and raising the volume.

I had an epiphany of sorts at the ripe age of twelve that if something was meant to be known and understood, it would continue to occur until it revealed itself. If I badgered myself with every little mystery that popped up, I would likely go insane in a very literal sense. I’ve found things have a way of working themselves out and the answer usually comes to me when I’m thinking of something completely different. But I still needed a little help to get my mind off the unknowns sometimes and Dean usually came up with the best distractions but music worked.

I headed back into the bathroom humming along to the music and stepped into the warm water.

~~

Pamela’s plane was right on time and as I waited in baggage claim, I noticed how quiet it was. Even with all the people around me and the high emotions that usually dwelled in an airport, my blocks were working perfectly. I watched as a man knelt to catch the two shouting kids racing toward him and the woman who walked behind them. I focused on her and the emotions bloomed in my chest like a bouquet; joy, relief, and a burst of love.

Love was a surprisingly difficult thing for me to understand as a child because it wasn’t what I felt when I looked at my family and even Dean when I first started to see it. The mixture of emotions and the way that it could come out of the blue multiple times a day. Pamela was the one who finally explained to me that love came in many forms and anyone could feel it but if I listened to my heart I would know it. She didn’t actually mean my physical heart but an intuition I didn’t understand yet. At the time, my heart wasn’t shaped like the real muscle that kept me alive but the shape I drew on paper and it controlled all emotions. It was my version of schoolhouse rock: psychic session.

Of course, as I got older I learned how truly confusing love could be for adults. I found it hilarious that I thought I could fully understand it as a child. Love was something that grew and evolved not only as you grow up but also as you learn more about others.

Her bubbly forest green energy sparked like a firework and I turned around. Pamela rushed toward me with her arms open and embraced me in a tight hug.

“I missed you.”

“You too, hon. Let’s get out of here. Way too noisy.” She shifted her duffle bag’s strap and headed directly for the exit with her arm around my back, “are you hungry? Because I’m starving.”

I had the cab driver drop us off at a mom and pop burger place near the motel and scanned the menu for something edible for Sam.

“Why don’t we order our food and eat here so we can talk and then order for the boys after?”

I glanced at Pamela and caught the gleam in her eye. She knew what I was just barely avoiding. “Okay.” We ordered then sat at a table by the front window.

“Am I going to have to pull it out of you or are you just going to ask?”

I fiddled with the napkin on the table, “what did you mean by it’s not possible?”

“Not playing it safe, huh?” She waited until I met her gaze and she examined my face. “It’s what you were describing with Dean. It sounds a lot like something our people used to do way back.”

“Our people?”

“Psychics, Witches, Pagans, Druids, whatever name tag you want to put on it. Back before vows and all that, we bonded. We felt so deeply that we sealed our souls. But things changed and where we once bonded without ceremony, a ritual had to be done to even get it. There are debates about why but when it came down to it, the bond just didn’t happen as much or as easily as it once did. I barely even heard of them just because of how drastic it can be when that bond breaks. I’ve always been on the side of the argument that we stopped bonding for survival purposes. But you know me, I’ve never met anyone who gave enough for that kinda thing.” She grinned and bounced her brows. She and Dean had a very similar playful side that always came out with serious subjects.

“Sealed our souls?”

She grasped my hand and her calm seeped into me, “if you felt… those things while he was dying, you’ve connected with him in a different way, like the connection you had with your dad but this one is much stronger. I always knew you two were very close but I never thought you could’ve created a bond like this. I guess I told myself you didn’t know the ritual, not even thinking about how it was done before them.” She took hold of my other hand, “a bonded soul is serious, not just the power it creates but the toll it takes. Have you ever felt the change when he enters the room or is just nearby? The difference inside?”

My gaze shot up from our joined hands to her questioning eyes. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I nodded.

“Those pains you felt were probably some of his, his soul connected to yours not just sharing the burden but your body was aching because his soul was losing power, his body losing its ability to sustain life. They were echoes. You probably felt them before with other emotions or feelings and just didn’t know it was different from your ability.”

I dropped my gaze down to our hands, focusing on the energies passing between us and swirling together. “I… he…” All I could think about was how much better I had felt when we were touching and the cold weakness that flooded me when we weren’t but I felt fine now. I closed my eyes and thought about him and felt a flare of heat in my chest. I somehow knew he was nearby, probably not the motel because it wasn’t that close.

I opened my eyes and stared into Pamela’s intense green gaze. She smiled and rubbed her thumb over the back of my hand. “But… we were separated for a year and I never felt any… there was nothing wrong.”

“Honey, have you ever felt… let down by him?”

“I’ve been disappointed and mad. We were separated because he let his dad talk him into keeping us apart with some safe distance bullshit.”

Something crossed her face but she quickly refocused, “but did you ever question your relationship? Question that he wasn’t yours?”

I thought for a moment, about the last year where we only traded texts every now and then but never spoke unless he had drunk dialed. I had pissed off my mother leaving college after only two years but he let his dad get into his head. He never had to say it because I knew it was John and I should’ve seen it coming when we met up that day and his dad was there. I know John used his greatest fear against him but even though we were separated and I was angry with Dean’s decision, I also knew that if I truly needed him, he would be there.

It wasn’t the first time John had taken him away from me. We were seven years old when John decided to leave Lawrence. When I found out what heartbreak was.

“He won’t let us hunt with him. Maybe your mom will let us stay.”

“He won’t leave you behind. He wants to find more but… he won’t leave you, he loves you with everything he is. You’re all he has left.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’ll still see you.”

“Can you… feel that?”

“No. I just know it. You know my number. You can call anytime.”

“But I won’t get to see you.”

I touched his chest, felt his heart punching my hand. “I’ll be right here always. Don’t roll your eyes. It’s rude.” I smiled but I couldn’t keep it up.

He laughed but it didn’t last as long as I wanted it to. I was trying so hard to remember all the things I would miss.

He grabbed my hand, “when will I see you again?”

“You know I don’t know but it won’t be too long. I’ll make sure of it.”

Our hands came together then pressed to our lips as we stared into each other’s eyes knowing it was truth.

It was the one simple truth we had since we were kids. “Dean is the one thing I’ve had faith in since I was five years old. He’ll never let me down.” Then something else hit me, “there’ve been times… a lot of times when I thought about him, focused on him and I… I could feel him, his energy but I always thought it was just… wishful thinking. Is that… could that be part of it? Even though I had no idea where he was?”

I met Pamela’s gaze and her eyes were shining, “you’ve chosen your soulmate and bound with him. That’s so much more than marriage. If either one of you dies,” her brows drew together and she lost that soft look as her gaze fell to the table for a few seconds, “what you felt with your father will be nothing compared to the loss of this connection.” She met my gaze with a seriousness that she rarely wore. “I’m always straight with you and you will lose a piece of yourself. Some never recover from that loss. That’s why I believe they stopped it but you two are strong and that bond will make you stronger together. That’s the good news.” Her face softened, “I know I may have been worried but that’s just because I care about you, honeybee. You’ve had this for years and never worried because you know yourself and you know him. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m sorry that I gave you that.”

“Right. No, it’s okay. ” I dropped my gaze to the table trying to file away the information she was giving while staying grounded at the same time.

“How was he pulled back from the brink of death anyway?”

I latched onto her change of subject gratefully. “A faith healer. The boys are looking into it now. The man fully believes that he is doing God’s will but the darkness that I saw around where he does it, the atmosphere inside his tent…” I thought back to the tent and the stage. “The smell of blood in the air, the feel of death. It was just wrong, you know?”

“Wait, what was that symbol you were just thinking of?”

I smirked, “I thought you didn’t read my mind to give me privacy?”

“You were shouting.”

“A Coptic cross. There was one on this table behind him.”

“Well, that’s getting somewhere. Old Egyptian cross in a house tainted with blood and death? Sounds like some good old death wrangling to me.”

“What?”

“And you claim to be from the country?”

“Just because I grew up in Kansas…”

She laughed, “oh honey, I missed you.” She leaned forward and brushed the back of her fingers over my cheek just like my dad always did. A hint of nostalgia swept through me as her smile softened, “your daddy would’ve been so proud of you.”

“Thanks.” I looked away trying to ignore John’s voice in a corner of my mind. You have to know he was worried about you being with a hunter. He knew what was at the end for us and he didn’t want that for you. I don’t want that for you.

“Two burger baskets for two beautiful ladies.” A tall dark haired man in an apron carried over two baskets and smiled at Pamela the whole way. Pamela watched me with worry twisting her sharp features but I shook my head dispelling John’s unnecessary concern.

She turned to the man and put on her best smile. “Well sugar, if you cook as well as you look, I may just stay in town for another night.”

I laughed silently as the man placed the baskets down and leaned toward her whispering something in her ear. She winked at me then rattled off the order for the boys, getting Sam’s tastes right down to the salad dressing. “We’ll need those to go and your number with it.”

I shook my head and picked up the burger. If there was one thing I was sure Pamela Barnes would never do, it would be tying herself to one man or woman for the rest of her life. She thought it was a shame not to try all of God’s delicacies. I wouldn’t mind at all if Dean was the only man I ever loved, actually, I preferred it.

~~

Pamela shared a few stories of recent clients during the short walk to the motel and I had felt so much lighter after talking with her. When we crossed the parking lot, we were hit by a wave of frustrated tension and I knew it was Dean. I stopped in front of our motel door and inserted the key with a pulse in the back of my head. Dean’s raised voice vibrated outward with hot waves of guilt and I connected with Pamela’s gaze.

“He’s taking it well.”

I opened the door and stepped inside. Sam sat at the small table, his laptop open in front of him and Dean stood only a few feet from the door. “I brought sustenance.” I lifted the bag of takeout boxes. It felt lame with the tension that made the room feel even smaller.

Dean strode to me, his arms wrapping around me almost instantly. I closed my eyes, the bag was pulled from my hand, and I slipped my arms around his middle as his need slammed into me.

“You couldn’t have chosen a finer specimen. I mean damn, you two just keep getting better looking. I’m jealous, seriously.” Pamela walked around us and moved further into the room. “Hey, short stack. Well, well, someone has definitely earned a new nickname.”

“Hey, Pamela. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“We got here just in time, I see.”

Sam chuckled, “you always did have amazing timing.”

I pulled away slightly to look up into Dean’s eyes. “Hey,”

He kissed me, cutting off any words for his benefit. I didn’t mind because I knew it was just as well this way. A lot of times we were better without words muddling things.

“So, did you get reaper yet?” I barely heard Pam over the need and struggle coming from Dean. “Oh, you boys were figuring it out but we’ve got other things to discuss.”

Dean pulled back but didn’t release me. His eyes flicked between mine then he whispered, “does this have to do with what you were going through? That thing I felt when I touched you?”

“You felt it too?”

“Of course, he would. One of the perks of the bond.” Pamela added as if it was completely natural to be able to overhear whispering from across the room.

Dean’s brow furrowed and he turned to her snaking his hand down to mine and lacing our fingers together. “Perks of what?”

“Like I said, we’ve got other things to discuss.”

Sam stood next to Pamela in front of the table glancing between Dean and me before looking back at Pamela. “You’re not saying Dean has a bond with a reaper, are you?”

He looked so lost and it was a relief that not everyone could hear us whispering. There were way too many things whispered around him that I would never want him to hear. Dean probably wouldn’t mind though. “With me, Sam. Dean and I sealed our souls, not exactly sure on how or when… but I was feeling that sick because Dean was dying and it was affecting me because of this… bond.”

Sam’s eyes widened and Dean looked down at me searching my face, “two for one?”

I nodded and Dean released my hand then changed his mind and grabbed it tighter. His free hand rubbed his jaw as he looked away. My own anxiety blocked outside noise and my stomach churned.

“Why don’t you two take a seat.” Pamela brought a chair over toward the beds and sat down.

I pulled Dean over to the bed we slept on the night before seeking the comfort I found there. Sam was still staring at Dean and me, his mouth slightly ajar.

Pamela smiled at him, “you’re welcome to sit, short stack.” Sam glanced at her and she shrugged, “until I find a new one.” He shuffled back over to his seat.

Pamela went through the same information she gave me while I focused on Dean’s hand in mine with my stomach in knots. I was memorizing all the things I would miss again.

There would never be a doubt in my mind about what we had done but with the life we led, it was difficult to gauge how Dean would feel about it. He loved me with everything in him but his greatest fear conflicted with the idea that his death would hurt me so physically.

Pamela got to the part about how death would tear a part from the other and I winced. Dean would never want to knowingly hurt me. He’s gone out of his way to protect me, to an annoying degree at times, ever since we were kids.

We never talked about marriage or any of that kind of thing so how could he want a bond like this? It’s not like we even knew that we did it, I didn’t even understand the extent of our connection and who knew if there was a way to disconnect it if he didn’t want it.

“No.” I jerked my head up and looked into Dean’s eyes. The smallest shake of his head and he pressed his free hand to the side of my face, “you know better than that.”

I stared in confusion and the corner of his mouth quirked up. Relief rushed through my muscles as his thumb brushed over my cheekbone then moved down to my jawline. He tilted my head up just a bit higher and grinned, “best friends forever.”

His relief swept through me as I answered, “and ever.”

That night on the roof and what followed shortly after we went back inside flashed into the front of my mind. The feel of his hands on me, the words we whispered as we connected in a way we never had before, and the lingering feeling after that always erased any worry. That was the night that old childhood saying of ours changed into a declaration of a different kind. It had to be that night that created the seal or bond but why didn’t we notice the difference then? Were we really so lost in everything that came with it? The heat rushed through me then his arousal twisted my stomach in a completely different way.

The look in his eyes darkened and he leaned down toward my mouth.

“Are they always like this? Because, hot damn.”

I glanced at Pamela, she was fanning herself while looking at Sam who only chuckled nervously in response with his eyes glued to his computer.

Dean kissed me but not like either of us truly wanted then cleared his throat, “so how do we take out the reaper?”

Pamela grinned, “you don’t, Chachi. You either break the control or take out the one who wrangled it.”

“Okay, then.”

“Wait, Dean, we can’t just take out Roy,” Sam argued.

“It’s not Roy.” I met Sam’s gaze, “he believes he has a gift from God and he… he was supposed to heal Dean. Even if Dean didn’t say anything, he knew we’d sit there and he told me two for one like he somehow knew that I would be… lost.” I cleared my throat, “it’s not Roy.”

“Well, I’ve never been a full believer in the man upstairs but I’ve seen enough to know there are a number of Gods at play in this universe. If Roy was tapped for this job I doubt he knows anything about the reaper. Someone close to him is your best bet.” Pamela met my gaze but only smiled. Her giddiness almost made me laugh.

“He’s got at least two assistants besides his wife that have full access to his house and that tent. They helped him to and from the tent yesterday. I just figured they were bodyguards with the way they were surrounding him but maybe one of them thinks a little too highly of their boss.” Sam was tapping away on the laptop probably trying to find more information but that wasn’t something they’d advertise.

“Someone with knowledge of early Coptic church ways. Find the spell caster and get a hold of whatever they’re using to summon and control. There are a few different ways and unless you know who the spell was originally created by, there’s no way to know what the control is.”

Sam gaped at Pamela from over his laptop. “I can call you whenever I get stuck on something like this again, right?”

“Awe, darling, you sure know how to compliment a woman.”

“So, we go to the next sermon and figure it out before someone else dies.” Dean threw out.

Pamela looked at me raising her hands, “I got a hot date so I’m going to have to pass.”

I smiled, “we wouldn’t make you go. We can handle this. Are you still leaving in the morning?”

She wiggled her brows, “depends on how well tonight goes.”

I was going to push but remembered she knew what she was doing and had a friend with demon experience helping. My gaze flicked to Sam and another flare of guilt kicked around in my stomach. Dean squeezed my hand and I looked up at him with questions distracting me, “why did you say no? How could you…”

He smiled as he leaned down, “I don’t have to be a mind reader to know you.” He gave me a quick kiss that left me warm and wanting so much more. He grinned with those laughing eyes knowing exactly what he was doing. “We’ve got work to do.”

“You know those echoes can happen at other moments. Have you experienced any during…” I snapped my head toward Pamela and she grinned, “hot damn indeed.”

Part Three

@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri , @jencharlan , @deanssweetheart23 @torn-and-frayed , @chrisatplay , @mogaruke , @captainemwinchester , @ashrod98 , @mrswhozeewhatsis , @purgatoan  , @caitsymichelle13  , @escabell

you only live forever in the lights you make (Keith/Shiro)

Title: you only live forever in the lights you make Summary: After the championship game, Keith is still learning about victories—both big and small. / High school basketball team AU. A/N: 90% of this was written just because I am a sucker for the varsity letterman jacket aesthetic. Bonus ~vibes~ to listen to while reading can be found here. Also check out @sheithzine if you’re interested in seeing this in PDF form + accompanying art by @ditaauraart ! :)

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut. 

“How’s the ankle?”

The cushions bounce slightly as Lance collapses next to Keith on the couch, smelling of Old Spice and perfume.  A Coke glistens in his hand; Keith uncrosses his arms to accept it, popping the tab.  He takes three big gulps, bubbles tickling the back of his throat as he looks at his right foot, propped up on Kimberly Moreno’s coffee table.

“It’ll be fine.”  His eyes flick toward Lance.  “You’ve got lip gloss on your face.”

Lance puffs his chest, pulling his letterman higher on his shoulders.  “What can I say?  Everybody loves a champion.  And by everybody I mean Nyma and by loves I mean—”

“Stop.”  Keith rolls his eyes.  “I do not want to hear these details.”

“Your loss,” shrugs Lance, smile refusing to dim as he bumps Keith’s shoulder.  Loss means nothing to either of them tonight, not when they’ve won, despite Hunk getting elbowed in the nose; despite the turnover that turned into their getting dunked on; despite Keith twisting his ankle during the second quarter and having to sit out the rest of the game, sweating through his jersey as their team eked out a 59-57 victory over Galra Tech.

It won’t make any headlines—Galra and Voltron are known more for their robotics teams than their basketball—but Keith can’t think of a better way to end the season.

“So, at the risk of sounding like a douche,” starts Lance, “but I’m really, really glad I got to play, even though it took your messed up ankle to put me in.”    

Keith blinks.  It’d been a sore spot for them right after tryouts, when Keith had gotten starter and Lance had gotten benchwarmer.  Especially since Lance had saved up to attend training camp that summer while Keith had waited tables.  To think that after all this, Lance still believes he didn’t deserve to be on the court—

“You would’ve gone in regardless of whether I got hurt or not, Lance.  You were good, tonight.  You are good, period.”

Lance grins, less bravado, more belief.

“Good enough to start next year?”

“Definitely.”

Lance opens his mouth to say more, but his eyes catch on something; abruptly, he stands up instead.

“You know, I just remembered—someone wanted me in the kitchen.”  Wink.

“What—” Keith swivels his head, confused, before a different figure enters his view.

“Nice speech.”  Shiro hands Keith a fresh bag of ice, dropping into the newly vacated spot.  His arm presses against Keith’s with the motion, and Keith swallows, distracting himself by flexing his foot and leaning forward to replace the water-filled bag on his ankle.

“It wasn’t a speech,” he mutters.  “And anyways, it’s not as good as one of yours.”

Shiro shrugs.  “You have plenty of time to work on it.  Captain.”

The word, though playful, holds a certain weight, a mantle Keith’s not quite ready for—not when he still considers Shiro the true team captain, warm beside him.  Coran had broken the news in the locker room after the game, to Keith’s stunned expression.

(“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” Lance scoffed later, clapping him on the back.  “Even I voted for you.”)

“You’ve got the stats to back it up, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Pidge comforted, adjusting her glasses as she riffled through the book.  She, too, had big shoes to fill, what with assuming Allura’s duties as manager.

And Keith has faith in his talent as a player.  It’s just the leading part that’s off—sometimes he gets tunnel vision, pushes people too hard, is too abrasive.  He isn’t a natural motivator, he isn’t—he isn’t Shiro.

Shiro, who on the first day of practice partnered with him for dribble drills because Lance and Hunk had already paired off.  Shiro, who took him shopping for basketball shoes when his old ones fell apart.  Shiro, who made sure that Keith ate before every game.

Shiro, who is graduating.

“Hey.”  A gentle tug on his ponytail, reminiscent of all the times right before the huddle when Shiro would look into his eyes and ask, how are you feeling, and just like that, Keith is grounded again.  The music’s heavy bass pumps in his ears.  Lance leans against a wall, talking to Nyma.  Pidge is destroying at beer pong under Matt’s watchful gaze.  Hunk and Rolo are arm-wrestling, the rest of the team in the backyard, upstairs, scattered through the house—joking, laughing, celebrating—and Keith gets a flash that this could be them next year, too, if he does his job right.

“You’re going to be a great captain,” Shiro reassures.

Keith lets himself lean a little closer.  “You think?”

“I know.”

*

Keith where r u

Hunk helping clean up, gimme like 15 min, sorry

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Keith leans against the fence, trying not to put too much weight on his bad ankle.

“Need a ride?”

Keith shifts, unsurprised at Shiro’s appearance this time.  “Um…yeah, actually.”

Keith nvm, going with Shiro

Hunk HA. Lance owes me $10. have fun ;)

Hurriedly, Keith swipes the message away, clearing his throat.  “Okay.  We can go.”

“Do you want to wait here? I can bring the car around, I parked a little far.”

“I can make it,” insists Keith, already turning to limp down the sidewalk.  It takes three steps before his toe catches, tripping him forwards—“Shit—”

“I got you.”  Shiro hooks an arm around his waist and drapes Keith’s left arm across his shoulders, fingers encircling Keith’s wrist.  They make a strange, hunched figure in the moonlight, hobbling together; Lance comes to mind, leering over his battered copy of Othello, mouthing “the beast with two backs” and Keith pushes it away, scowling—now is not the time—

The metal of Shiro’s car against his back is sweet relief. Keith rests against it, takes a few short breaths while closing his eyes.

When he opens them, Shiro is gazing at him softly.  “You always make things hard for yourself.”

“Says the one joining the military.”

“Hey, ROTC pays for my tuition.  It’s not a bad deal.  Something to consider, next year.”

“Yeah, okay,” but Keith doesn’t want to consider a senior year without Shiro’s booming laugh, the way he leans into Keith’s space without overwhelming.

His fingers find the door handle.

He turns.

Shiro kisses his cheek.

Keith freezes.

“What—”

“Sorry.”  Shiro’s cheeks glow pink in the moonlight, hands open at his side, and Keith leans harder against the car, suddenly unsteady.  “I should have asked—I don’t know if you remember—”

“Wait.”  Keith’s mind races.  “Is this about…”

Two months ago, Keith had decided to confess in the locker room, of all places, a choice that haunts him still.  It’s too easy to recall the curve of Shiro’s back as he’d pulled his shirt over his head.  His look of surprise, then hesitance: “I feel the same way, but let’s wait until the season is over, okay?”

Keith had thought that was Shiro’s delicate way of rejecting him; he hadn’t mentioned it since.  But now—

“I didn’t know you were going to make a move immediately after the season finished,” he blurts.

Shiro shrugs.  “It’s 1 AM. The stars are out, you’re leaning against my car…it’s all very romantic.”

A pause.

“Better than a locker room, anyways,” he adds, grinning.

“Shut up,” Keith groans, reaching for Shiro’s letterman jacket and tugging him forward.  Shiro catches himself, forearm braced against the window, other hand hovering over Keith’s hip.  Tentative, still.  Keith’s call.

In the dark, Keith follows the bob of Shiro’s Adam’s apple.

“I get why you wanted to wait, now,” he says, soft, the realization rolling around his mind like a ball circling the rim.  “If we were going out, and then I got captain…people would have talked.”

“And you think you’re not people-smart,” teases Shiro.  His eyes belie the lightness of his tone, heavy as they pin Keith in place.

“Maybe I’m only smart when it comes to you.”

Shiro chuckles.  “There’s a thought.”  His next words are closer, brushing the shell of Keith’s ear.  “Besides, I needed you focused on basketball, not me.”

“That’s a little conceited.”

“Is it?”

Fingers dance along the hem of Keith’s shirt and then they’re under it, pressed against the small of his back; Keith shivers, thinks of victories—big and small.

“Your hand’s cold.”

“Sorry,” murmurs Shiro, but there’s little remorse in it, just a smile pressed against Keith’s temple, a buzzer going off in Keith’s head.  A knee between his legs, their bodies aligning, and Keith thinks of that moment of grace when he releases the ball from his hands, watching it arc away from him with a held breath—and when Shiro finally, finally kisses him, it’s bleachers full of people rising to their feet, the thunderous roar of a crowd, the sweetest of sighs as the ball tumbles, headlong, through the net.

Really Long Character Survey

RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog !    tag 10 ! good  luck !

Tagged by: @sanctamater

Tagging: idk if you have some time to kill/are procrastinating, you can say I tagged you. This is really long. It’s good procrastination material.

BASICS. FULL  NAME : Diane Louise McClintock NICKNAME :  Miss/Ms. McClintock (does that count??) AGE : 28 when she dies BIRTHDAY :   23rd June ETHNIC  GROUP : Caucasian NATIONALITY :  American LANGUAGE / S : English, some basic French from holidays in Paris SEXUAL  ORIENTATION : Heterosexual. tbh though I’m not sure if that’s a definite thing, or it’s just because of the time/way she was raised. She might be a lil bit bi. idk. She doesn’t know either tbh. ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Heteroromantic, but see above. RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : Taken. Unmarried. Engaged sometimes, verse dependent. CLASS : Upper middle class on the surface. Very near the top in Rapture once she becomes Ryan’s official girlfriend. And then during the civil war, way down near the bottom of the class system, can just about afford a flat after selling her jewellery. It’s quite a shock for her because she’s never really been poor before. HOME  TOWN / AREA :  San Francisco. CURRENT  HOME : Rapture. Various places, verse/time dependent. PROFESSION : Baker (although mostly she worked the counter- she did little baking in practice); girlfriend of Andrew Ryan

PHYSICAL. HAIR : Blonde. Curly, but only because she puts it up in rollers before bed. Sometimes she does little victory rolls at the front, but not every day. It depends how she feels that morning. EYES : Greeny-blue. Little flecks of brown, if you’re up close enough to see them. Thick black lashes (is it mascara? if it is, she’s not telling a soul.)

NOSE : Quite thin and elegant, as far as noses go. Turns up a little at the end. FACE :  Classic oval face-shape, with a delicate chin. Rounded cheeks, which she furiously tries to hide by using make-up to enhance her cheekbones. But she still has cute lil cheeks. LIPS :   Always wearing lipstick. Red is her favourite, followed by a soft coral pink. But red is definitely her usual colour. Only time she is not wearing lipstick is when she goes to bed, but she slathers her lips in lipbalm before she sleeps so that her lipstick won’t dry them out. COMPLEXION : Fairly pale on the surface, although she is the sort who tans a little in the sun. Just a little. In Rapture, obviously she’s hella pale she’s on the bottom of the ocean. BLEMISHES :  She has a few freckles, which she hides with make-up. SCARS : well. if the civil war has started, she has a pretty major scar because she was caught in an explosion at her favourite restaurant and had to undergo extensive surgery to fix it. She is never happy with her face anyway, but especially after this. TATTOOS : None HEIGHT : 5 ft 1 inch. The one inch is important to her. WEIGHT : healthy. Diane is soft, soft, soft. She has a nice shape to her- not quite an hourglass, her hips are too wide in proportion to her shoulders/chest for that- and is soft. I can’t think how else to describe it. You cannot see her ribs at all. She is a good weight. BUILD :    shit i just described this in the weight bit FEATURES : She has rosy cheeks when she’s been outside on a day that’s anything even remotely resembling breezy. And she has a smile that can be beautiful, could charm nations, yet it’s heartbreaking when it’s paired with tears in her eyes. ALLERGIES :  Mint. It gives her a rash. USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  Roller-curls USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  A basic coat of foundation to hide all the things she doesn’t want the world to know about, red lipstick, mascara. Eyebrows are shaped and maintained well. USUAL  CLOTHING : She favours skirt/blouse combos, but wears dresses to events.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Being abandoned; dying alone; not being enough ASPIRATION / S : Diane is pretty sure she wants to marry a nice man and have kids, and then raise those kids and become a housewife/stay-at-home mum. POSITIVE  TRAITS : Loyal, dedicated, precise. She has, at the end of the day, a good heart and a strong moral compass. NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Fiery temper, judgemental, unlikely to question authority  MBTI : ESFJ ZODIAC :   Cancer  TEMPERAMENT :  Melancholic but with a close side-order of choleric SOUL  TYPE / S :   The Performer ANIMALS :  Wildcat VICE  HABIT / S :   Wrinkles her nose; taps her nails against surfaces FAITH : lowkey Catholic. She was raised in a Catholic family, but has never been especially religious personally, and it all stopped being important to her when she moved to Rapture. GHOSTS ? : Yes AFTERLIFE ? : Yes, although after she joins Atlas, Diane struggles a little with the concept of Heaven/Hell and Good/Evil. REINCARNATION ? : No. ALIENS ? : tbh I can’t see her being surprised if presented with concrete proof of aliens, but she’s likely to laugh and ask if you’re crazy if you bring it up, just because she thinks that’s how a lady should act. POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  Pre-Civil war, she’s not really political at all. Whatever her boyfriend thinks best, she’ll go with. Post-Atlas, she thinks for herself more, and is drawn towards the left side of centre. She’s spent several years dating Andrew Ryan though, so she’s never going to be far, far left. ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE : Diane has always (pre-fall) been pretty well-off, so she definitely has a preference for that lifestyle and those people most of her life. SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : In Rapture, once she starts seeing Ryan she’s basically at the tippity-top of society. EDUCATION  LEVEL :  Diane dropped out of high school at sixteen, as she had a stable boyfriend (Dr Mattie Richards, the reason my Diane even ended up in Rapture) and so if she was destined to be a good and dutiful wife for him, there wasn’t much more she could learn at school that would be of use (in her opinion).

FAMILY. FATHER :   Robert (Bobbie) McClintock MOTHER : Alice McClintock nee Laurent SIBLINGS : N/A EXTENDED  FAMILY : Her mother is French, and Diane’s grandparents and aunt still live there. This is why Diane spent a lot of time in Paris as a child, and why she has a basic grasp of the French language. NAME  MEANING / S : Diane- French form of Diana, meaning “heavenly, divine”; Roman goddess of the moon, hunting, forests and childbirth / Louise- French feminine form of Louis, which in turn stems from the German Ludwig meaning “famous war/battle” / McClintock- Anglicised form of the Gaelic Mac Gille Fhionndaig (Scottish) or Mac Giolla Fhionntóg (Irish)  meaning “Son of the Servant of Saint Finndag” HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :  Uhhhh not really... I do like to think of Diane as the sort of woman who is in the background, though. She isn’t going to go down in history, and if she does it will be simply as “wife of *this dude*”. But she contributes so much to the world and gives everything her all, and I think a lot of women throughout history have been Dianes in that respect.

FAVOURITES. BOOK :    Jamaica Inn- Daphne du Maurier. It’s enough of a romance that Diane can be seen reading it without feeling too self-conscious, but at the same time it’s hardly a romance at all? MOVIE : Singin’ in the Rain. Diane can’t really dance, and her singing is nothing spectacular, but when she feels down, it’s this movie she turns to. 5  SONGS : Are you kidding 5?? I am too young to know 5 50s songs that my daughter would enjoy!! ok. um. I’m going to cheat and use my above answer, and say the Singin’ in the Rain soundtrack. Especially You Were Meant for Me, which she just feels is so romantic gosh. DEITY :  There is only one god in Catholicism. HOLIDAY :   Valentines. Diane would be the sort to use it as an excuse to spoil her partner. Think an expensive restaurant booking, a new dinner suit laid out on the bed for them, a card sent to their office, a special effort to wear a dress their favourite colour that evening, etc. Diane loves being spoilt, but she also loves spoiling others. MONTH :  June SEASON :  Summer PLACE :   Her Auntie Estelle’s house in Paris, on the white-painted iron bench that sat in her garden by the fishpond. WEATHER : Sun, sun, sun! SOUND : The door opening and her partner coming home; the easy chatter of a crowd on a busy shopping street; music that can take her to another place if she closes her eyes and lets it; the click of heels against a hard floor; the pop of a lid being replaced on a tube of lipstick SCENT / S :   Rosewater; expensive perfume that smells of flowers and fruits; moisturising creams; hair product- hairspray and mousse; the strong smell of nail polish in an enclosed space TASTE / S :   lipstick accidentally painted on teeth before it’s noticed and rectified; strawberries- in cake, as a flavouring in lipsticks, in drinks, just by themselves, with cream; fruity little drinks that smell sweet and taste sweeter FEEL / S : A hand in hers, squeezing just enough to let her know that its there and attached to someone who cares; a brush running through freshly unrolled hair in the morning, separating out the curls; taking off a pair of particularly restrictive shoes and feeling her feet find themselves again ANIMAL / S : Birds, particularly canaries and doves. NUMBER : Nineteen- the age her mother was when she married her father. Diane is secretly disappointed that she’s now older than this and unmarried herself. COLOUR :   Coral pink; pastel colours.

EXTRA. TALENTS : Hair and make-up; acting stupid; cheering other people up when they are down BAD  AT : Cooking anything resembling a meal; self-confidence; trusting partners- she’s been cheated on before, and part of her still sees that as her fault. She can’t help but expect it to happen again. TURN  ONS :  Formal wear; dark hair; cleanliness; manners TURN  OFFS :   Bad manners; an unkempt appearance HOBBIES : Reading romance novels (/science, secretly); sewing (this comes in useful post-Atlas, as it means she can patch up her dresses when they get torn); planning events TROPES :  Break the Cutie ; Horrible Judge of Character ; Heroic Self-deprecation ; Always Second Best ; I Just Want to be Beautiful ; Took a Level in Badass  AESTHETIC  TAGS :  dresses/skirts that do the thing when you spin; bright, bold lipstick colours; dainty heels- especially ones with bows; bows in general tbh GPOY  QUOTES :  “Chin up, princess, or the crown slips.” - I have no idea where, I saw it somewhere once and it just fits her.

FC INFO. MAIN  FC / S : Amber Heard ALT  FC / S : Emilie du Ravin OLDER  FC / S :   N/A YOUNGER  FC / S : N/A VOICE  CLAIM / S : Miriam Shor GENDERBENT  FC / S :  N/A

MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?          A1 : I think I’d just call it Diane, or maybe Miss McClintock, because minimalist titles are cool. It’d follow Diane through from her arrival in Rapture up to her death. The first part, where she is still naive and innocent, would be all in bright colours and beautiful dresses and sparkles. The accident would trigger a colour change, and suddenly the world would look a lot darker- because Diane’s worldview is a lot darker from that point. I want to be super cheesy and say that whenever Atlas is onscreen, though, the colour returns- just a little- to symbolise the hope she feels. idk. Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?          A2 : Ummmmmmm... I want to say jazzy? Classy jazzy? idk. Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?          A3 : I played Bioshock 1 and 2, and wanted to write something somehow because I felt so many feelings (goddamn games making me feel shit) but didn’t have any solid ideas for a fanfic. Indie rp was something I’d been considering for a while, so I figured what they hey, and picked Diane because she’s so... interesting, and great. Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?          A4: I think it’s this idea that Diane doesn’t really influence Rapture’s fate, she isn’t one of the people that does science, or business, or whatever. Yet at the same time, she matters. She gets upset and she cries and she loves and she hates and she’s so incredibly human, and I love that about her. Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.          A5 : She’s a bit more impulsive than me, and a bit more blunt, so that makes her kind of hard to write sometimes. Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?          A6 : I, too, need to be wearing bright lipstick in order to feel even remotely confident. Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?          A7 : uhhhhhhhhhhhh.... idk.... She’d probably be happy that I’m quite career-driven and chasing my dreams, whilst at the same time be like gurl why are you single, let me introduce you to this guy... Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?        A8 :  Andrew Ryan (duh.), Atlas/Frank Fontaine, Jasmine Jolene, Alex @thegirlfallsfromthesky. She actually has very few friends. Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?         A9 :  My pinterest tbh. or Bioshock, in general. I see a Bioshock reference somewhere and think my daughter. Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?          A10 : idk don’t mock me I did this in chunks.

I missed doing updates on my Rolling Project Pan so here’s the finale. I started with 10 products and as I finished things up I replaced them with others.  In all I finished 22 items, have 2 stubborn ones and decluttered one.  A job well done in my humble opinion.  What type of project pans would you like me to do in 2018?

EMPTY

Lush’s Mint Julips is a lip scrub that I got as a sample. I found this really messy to use so I wouldn’t repurchase. It does OK at exfoliating the lips.

Paula’s Choice Resist Cellular Defence Daily Moisturizer SPF 25 was great on days I knew I would be outside for a long period of time. I didn’t get any tan or sunburn. I wouldn’t use this every day because after 3 days in a row I ended up with a couple pimples, which rarely happens to me.

Smashbox Photo Finish Primer is good, I just prefer the purple one that is pore filling.

Still one of my favourite moisturizers that doubles as a primer. Very excited that Shoppers Drug Mart is now carrying Embryollise Lait Creme Concentrate.

Embryollise Lait Creme Concentrate is one of my favourite moisturizers and can also double as a primer. I have a couple more to use and am relieved to hear you can now purchase this at Shoppers Drug Mart.

I loved this Quo Lip Oil that I bought on clearance for 99 cents. I’m hoping I can find it again because it’s much better than any solid lip balm I’ve ever used. There’s a bit still left but I got a cold sore and had to part with it. If you know of anything similar please let me know.

This is my go to brow product from Benefit Cosmetics. It’s the GimmeBrow! Unfortunately right now it is under recall because if it gets in your eye it causes irritation. I have never had an issue. I will get another one once they solve this issue.

I can’t get anymore highlighter out of Benefit’s High Beam. I was storing it upside down and got a bunch out that way, but there’s just no other way to empty it out. I used this as a mixer with foundation as well as sponged onto the high points of my cheekbones. The deluxe sample size is plenty big enough. I would never purchase the full size because it would go bad before I could use it up. Find a value set from Benefit to try out their products.

I highly recommend Magnifix Setting Spray from Lise Watier. Once I’m through my other sprays I would consider repurchasing. My makeup stayed on well.

It took me forever to use up this complexion pen No Dark Shadows. I used it to brighten my under eyes and highlight areas of my face. Twist up pens with brush tips aren’t my favourite tool but it’s a good product.

Olay Regenerist Wrinkle Revolution Complex wasn’t big enough for me to make a total decision on. It was nice and I’d use it again.

I’ve used up one of these deluxe sample of this Clinique Smart Custom Repair Serum before. My skin felt and looked good; I enjoyed the texture of the serum and would use it in the future, but I have serums I like better to spend my money on. There’s nothing bad about this serum so give it a try.

I have enjoyed the Ingenium Naturals Revita Purifying Citrus Cream. My skin was brighter, smoother and hydrated. I will be purchasing this again with my next affiliate promo order. https://www.ingeniumnaturals.com/?Click=1065 Here’s a one time use promo code for my followers: beauty15 (allowing for a 15% reduction on your purchases, as well as free shipping for all orders over 50$ USD

Neal’s Yard Remedy Frankincense Intense Lift Serum actually firms and lifts. It also smells great and left my skin feeling soft. When I’m in need of another serum this is high on my list to repurchase.

Lancome Creme Radiance Clarifying Cream-to-Foam Cleanser is for normal and combination skin. This has a very perfume scent that not everyone would like. I do not recommend this for someone with dry skin because it does clarify the skin and I think it would cause drying. My skin was squeaky clean for sure. The foaming action is fun. I need a more nourishing and hydrating cleanser now so this isn’t something I would repurchase, but I would use it again if it came my way. It removes makeup very well.

Benefit Cosmetics Roller Lash Mascara is one of my favourites. It just wear well, is easy to apply, and holds up in all weather.

I always use a toner and this one from Nivea did an OK job. It wasn’t anything super special so I wouldn’t go seek it out.

This Biotherm Moisturizer did not play well with my Smashbox pore filling primer, but it did hydrate. I would use this again but it didn’t wow me enough to go purchase.

I used Weleda’s Arnica Massage Oil on my legs and feet for hydration a couple times. The oil left (surprise) an oily residue on my skin that never soaked in.

I really liked this Maybelline Fit Me concealer. I would repurchase this. I used this for my under eyes and to cover redness.

This is a mini Smashbox Eye Shadow Trio in Filter. My goal was to hit pan in the vanilla shade and I did! I used this as a browbone highlight, all over the lid and sometimes to clean up if my eye shadow got too far out of bounds.

DECLUTTERED because the texture has changed and it’s really old.  I don’t feel comfortable putting this on my eyes anymore although I did use up quite a bit.

Mary Kay @ Play Eye Crayon in Over The Taupe

This is all I have left to declutter of the MK Eye Crayon in Taupe.

STILL HANGING ON

Benefit Hello Flawless Pressed Powder Foundation value pack size

I am so close to finishing this powder. I did repress it into the center and have used it a few times as a powder foundation but I’m going to have to carry this over into 2018.

This is a SallyGirl eye shadow that I think has been discontinued. My goal was to hit pan but I’m still using it. There is a big dip though.

  Some of these products have been sent to me free by PR companies for review and consideration.  Some have been purchased by me.

Rolling Project Pan Finale #projectpan #panningcommunity #finale I missed doing updates on my Rolling Project Pan so here's the finale. I started with 10 products and as I finished things up I replaced them with others. 

Angela was searching her brother's desk for her calculator when she ran across an odd-looking jar of brown stuff. She picked it up and read 'Pheromonic Testosteric...' followed by a foreign word not readable or pronounceable. She removed the lid, sniffed: "Mmmh nice," she thought, noticing only a little was gone, then put it back wondering what her geek brother used it for. She found the missing calculator and went back to her room angry and vowing to yell at him for borrowing without asking. He'd even gotten the keys greasy! The jerk! Angela lives at home and attends the area tech school in a program to become an LPN. She doesn't have the money for college so her aspirations are down-to-earth. She dreams: of working in a hospital, marrying a handsome doctor and moving out to the suburbs someday. She'll pull it off. She's an attractive 19 year-old, slender with beautiful eyes, blond hair, great legs, and blessed with nice, shapely tits. She dates - fucks a regular boyfriend - but it is tough to balance a social life with a job, school and living at home. When her one decent pen came up missing, she stomped over to Clark's room and found the door locked. He'd been locking it often the last few weeks. She pounded on his door. "Clark, open up, I want my pen back!" She heard some frantic movements followed by a suspicious delay before he finally opened the door looking breathless and a little sweaty. "What were you doing in there, beating off?" she said angrily. "Uh, no, of course not, and here's your stupid pen," he said, attempting to close the door but she blocked it with her foot and pushed her way in. As she walked past him, she smelled a musky sweet smell, sort of a mixture of sweat, mild perfume, and pine. He was wiping his hands on his pants as she made her way to his desk. Clark just turned 18 - an average-looking, geeky-smart high school senior. Ripe for teasing. "So what were you doing, then?" she asked, examining papers and piled up desk junk. "Just studying ... and doing some pushups," he said, appearing to cover up something. "Well, stay away from my stuff. If you need something, just ask, Okay?" That was odd - She was almost never nice to him. What was really odd was the vague sense of arousal she felt being in his room. Her nipples had actually gotten icy hard. He was staring openly at the points on her sweater. What wasthat smell, and that stuff on his hands? From that jar she found? She decided she'd keep trying his door until she found it unlocked. She'd catch him masturbating, or whatever he was doing in there and then really embarrass him. She tried twisting the knob a dozen times over the next couple of weeks and found it consistently locked until... It was about 9:00 PM when she tiptoed across the hall, gripped the doorknob and quietly turned it. It wasn't locked! He'd finally forgotten. She pushed the door open and crept in. His back was to her as she catuiously stepped forward. She noticed that same musky-sweet, masculine odor from a few weeks ago and again, felt a slight sense of arousal. He was shirtless, sitting in his chair, feet on the desk, hands moving in his lap. She had him! She tiptoed closer until she could finally see over his shoulder. He was using both hands to rub himself with some kind of lotion. It was on his belly, cock and balls. But what astounded her was the size of the limp penis he was massaging - it was huge! "Oh my God!" she gasped, feeling strongly aroused at his huge cock, glistening with the stuff he was applying. "Jeez!" he yelped as he jerked out of his chair, covering up with a towel. "I... I... What... Why are you here? Get out of my room, Angie!" She didn't move. She couldn't. She was suddenly very aroused; her nipples hardened even further. She wanted - no, needed - a closer look at that big penis. She studied biology and anatomy in her program at school, and she'd seen quite a few cocks in her life, but this was decidedly different. "Show me," she said. "What?" he said, confused and holding the towel in front of himself. "Show me your penis. I want to see your penis," she said, not even thinking about what she was saying. This was her little brother - shy, geeky, zits - and she was suddenly feeling horny enough to reach for his towel! "What? What do you want? What are you doing?" he blurted. "I just want to see your cock, so drop the towel and then I'll go away," she said, hearing but not believing she said it. He muttered, "It works," under his breath. Then he smiled anxiously and let her grab the towel from around his waist. "Oooh, my god!" she said, as she stared at his cock. It was long and thick, hanging limply between his legs. She was struck with a powerful desire to feel it. Part of her brain was telling her this is sick and wrong, but she could not resist. "Can I touch it?" she said pleadingly, reaching toward it. "Sure," he said, smiling haughtily now. "Sit there on the end of the bed and I'll let you feel it." "Your cock is so big!" she said as she wrapped her fingers around it. "How did it get that way?" As she gripped it, she felt almost an electric surge. "Oh, that feels really good," he said. "You know I'm a little shy and haven't dated much, and I obviously don't know about actual sex - about having sex - so I wondering if you can show me? Angie, I know you've had lots of boyfriends, so you know all about this, right? So will you teach me?" "Nn ... Okay, I'll teach you," she agreed, her brain clouded by wanton sexual fantasies. He began to get erect in her hand as she idly fondled him. His big cock was warm, almost alive as it throbbed in her hands. She could feel her good sense being replaced by irrational lust. "We're a little ahead of where dating usually starts,” she said. “What exactly do you want to know?" "Well, kissing, for starters, and petting? It's sort of weird for a brother and sister, I know, but you'd just be teaching me. We'd just be practicing." "Yes, there's nothing wrong with practicing," she replied breathlessly, not understanding how she could agree to this incestuous stuff. "Let's start with kissing," and she reluctantly let go of his hardening member and stood up. She put her arms around the back of his neck and told him to do the same. "This is hugging," she said squeezing him to her. "And this is kissing," she said, pressing her lips to his. They stayed clamped to each other's lips together for a long kiss, then she inserted her tongue into his mouth. She felt his dick respond further, pressing into her crotch. "I like kissing!" he said enthusiastically, and pulled her tighter with his hands on her taut butt, now searching her mouth with his tongue. Then, coming up for air, he grabbed at her breasts. "No! Not like that - like this," and she took off her blouse, bra and skirt. She brought his hands up to her breasts, holding them there and told him to gently rub and massage. "Your breasts are nice and your nipples feel good. They got hard like my penis gets. Is that good?" "Yes, it's very good. Now, use your fingers to pinch my nipples. Ooh, that's right, gently roll your fingers ...ugh ... around my nipples ... yes ... like that. You can suck on them if you like," and she cupped her breasts from underneath, pointing them upward toward his mouth. Clarke pursed his lips and sucked gently at her right nipple, then her left. Her knees began to weaken. Not from his technique, which was clumsy, but the electric, sexual feeling she got as he sucked and licked, getting her nipples wet. Her sexual arousal became stronger as her naked brother sucked her tits, his abnormally large cock pressing against her thighs and crotch. “That's fun! I think I get the idea.” he said, then pushed her back and sat her down on the end of his bed. "Could you give me a hand job?" he asked. “I've heard the jocks at school talk about getting hand jobs from their girlfriends." A frantic alarm went off in her head. A hand job? My brother? But she didn't attempt to leave. Sexual activity with her brother! He ambled forward to stand in front of her. She was mesmerized as she watched that big penis swing from side to side, partially erect and slapping his thighs. Why is this happening? She reached for his cock. Why can't I stop? "You like the feel of that big cock, don't you Angela?" he said in a confident voice suddenly so unlike her shy little brother. "So, show me what the cheerleaders do to their boyfriends." She used first one hand and then both on his huge member. It grew larger as she stroked. The shaft became so thick she couldn't reach her hand all the way around it. It was long enough that she could grip the shaft with both hands and still leave several inches uncovered, not counting the mushroom head. Precum began to leak from the tip as she stroked faster and faster. She felt incredibly turned on as she stared at this huge cock in her hands. Bigger than any boy she had fucked so far. Bigger than the guys in the porno movie she and her girlfriends secretly watched at a party. It was also incredibly hard, smooth and strong feeling - more rigid and dense than any of the boys' she'd been with. "I'm going to cum," he said very calmly. The sense of confidence and calmness he exuded was eerie, while she was so excited she could barely speak. She was getting juicy between her legs and her panties were getting wet. Precum leaked in a small stream from his cock - enough that her hands got wet and slippery. The tip of his penis was aimed right at her face as she stroked both fists rapidly up and down the meaty shaft. "Ugh!" he grunted just once and his cock began to pulse vigorously in her hand. He launched several ropy streams at her chin, nose and mouth. She stuck out her tongue, lapped up a glob off her lips, and as she swallowed his seed her own orgasm rippled up through her insides! He continued ejaculating for what seemed like a full minute. Cum began to drip onto her blouse and run down her hands as she massaged him, still cumming herself. "My God!" she said, astounded at the force and volume he'd unloaded, and feeling weak after her own orgasm. The huge, pulsing cock remained hard in her hands. Much different than the boys who came and then quickly got limp and disinterested. "How did your dick get so big?" she asked. I've seen you in your underwear - the last time I noticed you were pretty average. And how come you're not getting soft?" She had lots of questions. "What's that delicious smell?" "Why am I even doing this?" she thought, confused and somewhat frightened of her own feelings. She really wanted him to fuck her. How twisted is that? "It's really pretty simple. I found this sex cream on the Internet - from a porno website in Malaysia. It seems to be strong stuff. Pretty weird, huh? I've been using it for the last month to increase my virility and male attraction - something about pheromones. You can see my cock got a lot bigger! I'm also a lot more potent - I can cum four or five times and stay hard. I've even gained some muscle tone, and my zits are gone! It also said that females would find me irresistible after using it for a while, and that my sense of confidence would increase. The only bad thing is its awful smell. And the web site's gone: I get "The Page Cannot be Displayed" message every time. "Sexual potency cream? Those things are always bullshit," she said to herself. "Four or five times?" But she couldn't ignore the obvious. He was confident, irresistible, his chest was broader and more muscular, his face was clear, and his cock was huge. Whatever it was didn't smell bad to her - so good in fact it seemed to trigger lustful desire. She wanted to do dirty things with his cock as soon as that odor registered. She started to unbutton her splattered blouse. "Will you fuck me now?" she asked, amazed at herself for actually wanting something so perverse. She wanted him in her soaked pussy! "No, not yet, but I need sexual release more often since I started using this stuff, so how about doing me with your hands again tomorrow. Maybe sometime you can show me what a blowjob is. Come to my room after 9:00, tomorrow," he ordered. "I'll leave the door unlocked for you." Blowjob? Angela was very confused. Her lustful feelings for him overpowered her good sense. She felt disappointment at not fucking, but was thrilled at the thought of handling that monster penis again soon. * * * * * His transformation had begun as soon as he received the odd, brown jar. He started by massaging a small dab of foul-smelling cream onto his little dick and testicles each night. It tingled - almost burned - at first. He got an erection and masturbated after each application. After several days he noticed his scrotum and balls getting larger. After a week it was clear that his penis was longer and thicker. He had fewer zits as well. After several weeks he began to measure his erection and saw progress: 8 inches! 9 inches! 10! He became disinterested when his thick hardon went well beyond his 12-inch wooden ruler. The next several nights she found his door open and Angela eagerly entered. The musky, masculine scent was strong. As soon as she sniffed, her pussy got wet, her nipples got hard, and her will power evaporated. She was immediately a slave to his lovely, big cock. She felt as though she'd do anything for him, for it. That night he made her spread baby oil all over his penis and balls. He thought it might be sexy to make everything slippery. It was. She gripped the huge shaft in both hands and stroked vigorously until he came forcefully onto her chest. She wiped his semen all over her breasts and nipples, which made them tingle strangely. She wiped up a glob and brought it to her mouth, tasted, swallowed, and was quickly rewarded with an orgasm! There was something strange and addictive about that 'sex lotion' he'd been using. "I'd like to see you naked while you pleasure me," he said, a few nights later. She removed her clothes, parted her legs and displayed herself for him, hoping he might fuck her. He wanted something else. "First, I need to know about eating pussy. Tell me what to do." Her heart began to beat very fast as she explained the particulars to him. "Well, I'm going to lie back on the bed like this. Now, you lay down between my legs so you can reach my pussy with your tongue. Okay, you can lick and suck all along here," and she ran her finger along the length of her slit. "But licking my clit will really get me going," she enthused, pulling her lips back and apart. "Right there," she said, pressing lightly on her distended clitoris. He gave her a few tentative licks before inserting his tongue into her vagina - just a little way in. As his tongue entered, she felt an orgasm building. Once his tongue was in her, licking and searching, she was rocked with a powerful orgasm. He continued licking and sucking her pussy while waves of a continuous pleasure washed over her. "Oh my GOD!" she exclaimed, bucking her hips and covering her mouth to avoid screaming. He continued administering wet licks up and down her slit while she writhed as if in pain, cumming continuously. "You like that, huh," he said dumbly, not aware of the level of ecstasy he'd brought her to. Finally he withdrew his tongue from her pussy and sat up. "I guess girls really get off on cunnilingus." "Oh - Oh - Yes - Cunnilingus is wonderful," she said, out of breath and weak as the last orgasmic ripples still coursed through her. This confirmed it for Angela. His semen and saliva seemed to trigger orgasms all by themselves. Though she still wanted to feel his giant cock inside, she was almost grateful that he was finished with her for the evening. Something in that stuff he used had turned him into an orgasm machine. "No, just suck it," he said, standing there wearing only a t-shirt, his massive organ limp and swaying. "I need you to give me a blowjob so I know how it feels." It was only a week later and his cock was clearly longer and thicker. Give her brother a blowjob! That sexual potency cream must have damaged her brain! With difficulty, she sucked his soft dick into her mouth. She rolled her tongue around it, massaging it wetly and she felt it begin to stiffen and throb. Her head was forced back as it grew larger, pushing against the back of her throat. She caressed it with her hands, sucked and kissed the tip and shaft, and licked him with long, wet strokes of her tongue. "How do I taste, Angie? Good? You suck really good. Do you practice on your boyfriend's little cock? Is his as nice as mine?" he teased in an arrogant tone totally unlike her geek brother of a few months ago. "I like yours much better," she said, holding his dick against her cheek, then running her lips up and down the shaft. Once he was fully erect, gripping the base of his cock in her right hand, she could only get the head and part of the shaft into her mouth. His musky smell was intoxicating; overpowering any thought she had about how wrong this incestuous scene was. She was fearful of the changes in her brother's personality, yet enthralled with the allure of his immense cock. She sucked him vigorously, working with her hands, lips and tongue to pleasure him. He seemed perfectly in control; just standing there with his enormous erection getting all the attention she could give it, with no sign of being close to ejaculating. "Mmmh," She mouthed, looking up at him after loving his cock for a while. Don't you want to cum for me ... Hmm?" "Okay," and he simply unloaded into her mouth. No preamble. She couldn't swallow fast enough. Semen ran down her chin onto her breasts. And just as soon as she swallowed she began to cum herself - even more forcefully than before. She held him in her mouth for a long time while his cock pulsed and throbbed and delicious orgasmic spasms cramped her vagina. "Lick me clean," he said, "including my balls, and don't use your hands." His cock remained rigid as she licked the huge head, then all around the shaft down to the base, then, hands at her sides, she got on her knees to lick his scrotum, his enormous balls shuffling around inside. "Won't you fuck me now, Clark?" she pleaded. She sat down on the bed, spread her legs and worked her finger into her pussy while he watched. "No, you're my cock-sucking slut sister," he said. "That's all I need from you." She didn't understand what was happening to her. It actually turned her on to be called a cock-sucking slut! His attitude toward her had become distant and demeaning, but the chemically induced infatuation with his enormous dick grew so strong she'd lost all self-respect. When their mother was out, he would have her "help" him in the bathroom. Standing behind him naked, she would be required to hold him, aiming his dick while he pissed. He had her join him in the shower only to wash his penis, and then had her leave without so much as a kiss or a thank you. Her hunger for his cock grew so strong she would sneak into his room in the middle of the night to sleep next to him. He accepted her attentions as his need for orgasmic release increased. She crawled under the blankets and curled up between his thighs. She caressed his cock with both hands until it began to thicken and stretch out toward her as if it wanted to kiss her. She thought of it as separate from her brother - not his penis - but an independent penis that loved her. In his bed she clutched his giant erection to her chest, kissed it, licked it, suckled from it for several hours into the morning and woke up with it in her mouth. With their mother still sleeping he would finish off her loving attention with a gushing ejaculation. She gratefully swallowed, knowing this would trigger her own satisfying orgasm. Meanwhile, he continued to apply the mysterious potion. His penis became so large that he could no longer comfortably wear briefs. He asked her to help him figure out what to do about the prominent bulge. She bought boxer shorts for him, but his limp member hung down below the leg hem. It occurred to her use a silk scarf to tie it to his thigh. This created a long bulge reaching from his crotch toward his knee, but looser slacks helped hide it. His need for orgasmic release increased with the size of his organ. Angela attended to his sexual needs several times a day: the sleepy early-morning suck off, a vigorous hand job before school, sometimes one after school, sometimes a nightcap. She would occasionally suck him and fondle him while he did his homework, kneeling between his legs. He delayed his own ejaculation while she tended to his cock telling her "... it relaxes me while I study." Then the drought came. His door was seldom open - only a few times to let her come in to "service" him overnight. But it was either locked when she came home from school or her job, or he just wasn't there. He was out a lot. She became suspicious that he had a girlfriend. Someone else would be playing sex games with his big cock and she felt jealous. Jealous of whomever was his new sex slave. * * * * * "Clark, walk with me over to my house after school. We can study for the history final together, okay?” Wendy asked, in her best come-on voice. She had to insert herself next to him, shouldering aside the other girls smiling and talking closely to him. "Uh, Sure Wendy. I've got some of the important dates memorized already." That's how it started. Well, it really started earlier. She'd noticed Clark over the past few weeks: he looked ... well, good! The geek was changing. The zits were gone and he walked and talked more confidently. Girls seemed to flock around him all the time. And of course, there was that enticing hint of a bulge in his slacks. Her friends wagered he was 'padding' so she volunteered to check it out. She sat next to him at lunch and, laughing at their small talk, gently put a hand on his leg for emphasis. "Oh, excuse me, sorry," she said withdrawing her hand. But the thought of what she felt - what it meant - haunted her all day. And the way he smiled at her when she removed her hand, and that cologne he wore. Wow! Wendy Dean was a classic: Black hair, big dark eyes, and a wide, sensuous mouth. She was graceful, tall and slinky-looking, with breasts that were large for her slender frame, jutting out like a low shelf from her chest wall. She had studied ballet for a number of years until she simply grew too tall and busty for it. The lessons were free because her mother ran her own dance studio. "Where's the bathroom, Wendy? I gotta go before we start." Clark asked as they entered her house. Of course, he'd been accompanying female classmates home almost every day for the past two or three weeks! Locking the door, he took his potion from his backpack, applied a dab under his balls, and rubbed the remainder on his wrists, like cologne. He removed the scarf tying his cock to his thigh, then had second thoughts and tied it back. "Let's study in my room, Clark, it's quiet there.” As if it were noisy in the rest of the empty house. They studied for a while before Clark asked about the pictures of her dancing and the toe shoes hanging over her mirror. "My mom got me into it - she actually danced professionally for a couple years you know. I still practice just to stay in shape, but I'm too tall and too... big here," she said, pointing to her chest. "Hey, would you like me to show you a few of my old moves?" "Sure Wendy, that'd be great!" She grabbed one of her old dance leotards and went to the bathroom to change. She was affected like Angela, feeling an odd, powerful sense of sexual arousal. She put the leotard on without panties or bra. It was sheer white and a size too small. She looked at herself in the mirror, observing how blatantly sexual she looked and felt. She was a good girl who had never felt this hot - her brain crowded with insistent sexual images. She came back to her bedroom and watched his eyes grow wider, then close down a bit as he smiled at her. The too-small leotard was cut low so that when she bent down, her ample cleavage showed. Her nipples were hard and visible behind the thin material, which pulled up into her crotch, clearly outlining her mound and pussy lips. "Wendy, you look beautiful!" he said as she showed him a couple of turns. "Thanks! Clark, I've always wondered ... when men watch a woman dance - like ballet for instance - do they really enjoy the dance, or do they watch just to stare at the woman's boobs and crotch?" She was standing before him as she asked, her hands roaming provocatively over her breasts, flat stomach, and down to her pussy. "Both, I think, but I really like the way you look when you dance, Wendy," he said, approaching her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her firmly. She melted into him, responding greedily. His hands moved across her back and down until he cupped her ass cheeks pulling her into him. His tongue entered her mouth tasting strongly masculine, sensual, powerful. He sat on the bed and she stood between his legs, his hands on her ass cheeks, kissing her nipples through the leotard. He moved his hands around to the front and slipped his forefingers into the leg openings of the leotard, slid them down into the crotch and pulled on the material until it tore apart, exposing her. "Oh my god," she said quietly as his fingers brushed her wet pussy. He pushed the sides of the torn leotard above the wide curve of her hips, then put his hand between her legs and gently massaged her pussy, sliding his middle finger into her. He began moving it in and out, turning it left and right. She slowly rocked her hips in response, and pulled the leotard over her head. "I hope you don't mind that I tore your leotard, Wendy. Does this feel good?" he asked, looking up at her. "Yes, keep doing that," and she moaned as he continued attending to her pussy. "Sit here so I can show you something," he said, withdrawing his wet finger. She sat on the bed, dazed and rawly horny. He turned away and removed shirt, shoes and socks, slacks, and then his boxers. Wendy could see the silk scarf around his left thigh from behind and thought it looked rugged, stylish, sexy. Wearing only his wife-beater T-shirt and the scarf, Clark turned around and Wendy saw his giant organ for the first time, tied to his leg like a gun in a holster. He stood in front of her on the bed and said, "Would you untie this?" pointing to the knot in the scarf. She gasped then stared, mesmerized. She ran her palm over the scarf, along the length of his cock. "Did you tie your erection down so it doesn't show in school?" she asked, staring at the huge cock. "It's not an erection... yet. Go ahead and untie me and I'll show you," he explained. Clark's Malaysian sex cream had "re-wired" him. He now had control over if and when he got erect. He could literally will his penis to become hard or stay limp. With his sister's help, he'd learned he could stay partially erect, fully erect or soft, and stay that way for hours. He could control his orgasms as well, but release was essential - several times a day, in fact. "Oh, Clark!" Wendy gaped in total disbelief as she untied and dropped the scarf and saw his penis swing away, dangling hugely. "Watch," he said, "I'll make my cock hard for you," and stepped back, putting his hands on his hips. "Goodness," Wendy whispered, as she watched his penis begin to magically lengthen and thicken. It slowly drifted hydraulically upward, the bulbous head increasing in size before her eyes. "Clark! You're just making that happen?" "Feel it." He pointed, halting the process when his cock pointed at a shallow angle toward the floor. Wendy squirmed excitedly, breathing hard as she wrapped her fingers around it. She felt an electric tingle, sensing how warm and hard it was and marveling at its incredible size. She stroked it with both hands now, moving them along its length as it throbbed under her fingers. He made his cock course slowly up to full hardness while she continued caressing it. It stretched upward and outward, the tip extending toward her face. "It's soooo big. And soooo hard. My god!" She continued sliding her hands rhythmically up and down its rigid length. "I love the feel of your cock, Clark. Do you want me to do anything special with it, hmmm?" she asked, and she kissed the tip and rolled her tongue around the head. * * * * * Mrs. Dean watched her daughter and the good-looking boy with the enormous penis through the crack in the door. Shocked and angry at first, and ready to burst into the room, she held back, fascinated and feeling a bit horny. She'd wondered about her pretty daughter's sex life and now she knew. But the boy! My goodness! He was endowed like a donkey and seemed able to control his penis as if it were his arm! And he was clearly an accomplished lover for one so young. The more she watched, the more aroused Pam Dean became. She idly touched her breasts and crotch when Wendy danced for him. When he tore the crotch of her leotard, she started to stroke her pussy through her own. When he simply stood there, growing a giant erection - oh my! And as she observed her daughter lovingly fondle the young man's huge hardon, she pulled the crotch of her leotard aside and slipped two fingers into her own wet and swollen cunt. She watched Wendy lick his big cock and suck it into her mouth when she decided to act. Fully intending to throw the young man out and ground Wendy forever, she composed herself and marched into the room. "Mom! Omigod!” Wendy said, wiping saliva off her chin, looking sheepish. "Wendy! What - in - the - world!! ..." She yelled and then stopped. There was a musky, sweet scent in the room, sexy, irresistible. The young man did not cover up. He stood there, hands on his hips, a haughtily smile on his face, with his tremendous erection pointing at her. She stepped forward to scold him, tell him to get out, but was overwhelmed with erotic feelings. "My name's Clark, Mrs. Dean. Wouldn't you like to take off your clothes, too?" he said, stroking his hardon. A voice in her head said, "Stop! This situation is out of control!" But the voice was crowded out with lust, her will power dissipating as she stared at the young man's cock and his hand slowly moving up and down it's rigid shaft. "Mom?” Wendy said, puzzled as her mother, as if in a fog, began to slowly disrobe. "You have a nice body, Mrs. Dean. Your breasts aren't as large as Wendy's, but you have a nice ass and a pretty pussy," he said, and embraced and kissed her, his cock sliding between her legs, along the folds of her pussy. He gently pushed his hips against her while his tongue explored her mouth. Wendy just stared, confused and aroused. Mrs. Dean kissed him back, rocking her hips to intensify the stimulation his cock provided between her legs. Her daughter's boyfriend "... is a man!" she thought, "and he says I have a pretty pussy!" A man, a lover with a great big cock, so she might as well enjoy it! "Can I suck it?” Pam Dean asked. "You can both suck it. Wendy, you kneel here. Mrs. Dean, kneel facing Wendy. Closer,” Clark ordered. He maneuvered his cock between them and had mother and daughter take turns. Each took him deeply in her mouth while the other massaged his balls and stroked the massive erection. With his penis pressed between their mouths, they slid their lips and tongues up and down the shaft in parallel, almost kissing. They sucked, licked and fondled till he decided to ejaculate into Wendy's mouth. He knew what would happen. "Mmmmmffffff!" Wendy croaked, as semen hit the back of her throat. Then the orgasm began to flow up her insides in repeating waves. She sat back heavily onto the floor, breathing hard through her open mouth and cupping her cunt with both hands. "MMmm ... MMMmm ... MMMmm!" she moaned loudly. Mrs. Dean observed Wendy obviously experiencing an orgasm, wondering how it was possible. She felt envious! "Lie on your back across the bed, Mrs. Dean," Clark ordered. "Scoot down so your ass is on the edge. Yeah." Then he knelt down, put his arms under her thighs and brought her legs up onto his shoulders. His face now just inches from her trim bush and puffy, pink pussy lips he offered again, "You really do have a pretty pussy." Her pussy was wet and musky and tasted like sex should taste. He licked along the outer lips tickling her clitoris with the tip of his tongue. Finding her inner lips, he plowed his tongue deep into her vagina, licking her furiously. "Ahh! AHHH! AHHHHHH!!!" she screamed in orgasmic delirium. He lapped at her pussy lips; spread them apart and sucked at her clitoris. He extended his tongue and moved his head forward and back stabbing repeatedly into her, fucking her with his tongue. She came continuously. He'd sent her to heaven and hadn't even used that giant cock yet. "Wendy, lie here next to your mother. Now bring your knees up. Good." With mother and daughter lying beside each other across the bed, Clark gripped Wendy's ankles, and brought them up to shoulder height. He held her ankles, spread her outstretched legs apart, and then flopped his cock onto her belly. Her mother was still cumming mildly, massaging her pussy. "What do you want, Wendy?" he asked, in a taunting, arrogant tone. "Fuck me." "What?" "Fuck me please, Clark!" "Do you hear that, Mrs. Dean? Your daughter wants me to fuck her." He moved his hips gradually backward causing his cock to slide down her belly. He dragged the tip along Wendy's wet pussy lips and positioned it at the entrance to her vagina, then began to push slowly into her, stretching her. Her cunt was liberally lubricated as he pushed in further and further. She began to moan in delight as her insides were deliciously stretched. "Do you like it?” Clark taunted, "Do you like feeling my big dick sliding in and out? Your boyfriend, Sammy is a football player isn't he? Does it feel this good when he fucks you?" Wendy shook her head, 'no' unable to gasp out words. She moaned loudly as Clark picked up the pace. His enormous organ bumped the top of her womb each time he slid deep into her and she gasped with anticipation at being completely filled up. Her mother continued masturbating next to Wendy, watching Clark's hips thrusting forward and back. She watched his glistening shaft stroking in and out, wondering what it would feel like inside. Clark spread Wendy's legs even farther apart, holding her ankles with outstretched arms so her mom could watch. Her young vagina was warm and slippery; gripping his cock in a tight, velvety glove that felt better than any mouth he'd had his cock in. He felt his own orgasm begin to build and decided to let loose. Clark grunted loudly and slammed forward. "AAIEEEEEE!!” Wendy screamed as he started pumping into her. His organ pulsed inside her as they both came powerfully. Wendy writhed and bucked, cumming furiously, pinching and pulling her nipples so hard they hurt. Startled at the noise and the obvious intensity of her daughter's orgasm, Mrs. Dean sat up and watched while Clark slowed his thrusts to slow, deep strokes. Finally, he withdrew from Wendy's dripping cunt and ordered Mrs. Dean to prepare - she was next. "Lick me clean, Mrs. Dean, Mrs. Dean," he rhymed, "We're gonna have our own sex scene, indeed." He pushed his swollen, dripping cock into her face. She licked the bulbous head, then ran her tongue up and down the shaft while he toyed with her hard nipples. When he felt ready again, Clark had her lay on her back like her daughter. He positioned his cock head at her vagina and began to push, but had trouble getting the head past her tight opening. "Wendy, please get the KY Jelly. It's in the drawer in my night table," Mrs. Dean implored, eager for that big cock. Wendy returned with the KY and a good-sized vibrator. She squeezed out a liberal gob of the stuff and smoothed it over Clark's cock. Kneeling next to her mother, she gripped the shaft and guided it toward her mother's pussy. She wiggled the head against the lips, spreading them apart as Clark began to push slowly forward. He slowly slipped into her tight vagina, forward an inch, back a half inch, then forward another inch, repeating till he bumped against the end of her womb. Mrs. Dean was in ecstasy with her pussy completely filled and stretched by this boy's gorgeous cock. "Fuck me," she said, enjoying the lurid sound of it as she said it. "Fuck me with that thing of yours!" Clark began to piston in and out with methodical, machine-like movements, holding her legs wide apart at the ankles. He was impressed. She was tighter and warmer than her daughter and threw herself into fucking, moaning with each stroke and talking dirty. Sweat began to form on his forehead and chest. "Oh, yes! Keep pumping! Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh. OHhh!" she repeated. "I love the way you're fucking me! Use me up, Clark! Fill my pussy with your big cock! A little voice in her head was screaming that her adult sensibilities had been overwhelmed by something unnatural. But she was helpless as waves of raw pleasure consumed her. Wendy listened to the x-rated babbling and watched Clark pound her mother's pussy. Her emotions were a stew of shock, awe, and lust. Her brain soaked in sex, she laid down on her back, spread her legs so Clark had a good view, applied KY to the vibrator, clicked it on and began sliding it over her pussy. Clark watched it disappear into her juicy cunt. Mrs. Dean felt an orgasm building as Clark steadily reamed her. He brought her ankles together in front of his face, which squeezed her cunt even tighter around his cock, while he continued to thrust convincingly. "OH! CLARK! OOOOOO..." she yelled, cumming, straining so hard she almost peed. Clark then leveraged her legs down to the bed so she was now laying on her left side, still impaled on his erection. He coached her to move her knees up toward her chest as he worked his cock in, out and around. He bent over a bit and braced his hands on her thigh and her hip. Both their sexual sensations were exaggerated with his massive cock squeezed tightly into her, his weight compressing her legs. He picked up the pace of his thrusts as he began building toward a massive orgasm. "This - is - insane!" Mrs. Dean yelled in the general direction of her daughter. The vibrator hummed contentedly in Wendy's tender pussy while she watched her mother, Clark's fuck toy, writhe on the bed. Wendy stroked herself to warm sexual release, while Clark unloaded in several forceful spasms. Mrs. Dean felt the power of Clark's cock rock her insides with a crippling orgasm. She pulled up further into the fetal position, tears running across her nose, dripping onto the bedspread. He leaned over her curled up form, his cock still rigid as a closet rod, buried deep in her pussy. He could feel her vaginal muscles twitching periodically around his member, the last remnants of her orgasm. "Would you like to play this game again soon?" he whispered in her ear, finally withdrawing his tool. "What planet are you from?" Mrs. Dean joked as she sat up, sweaty and weak. "Yes, I'd like to get fucked like that again. My God! You're a machine - An orgasm machine! How many times does a divorced, dance-teacher mom get to have supernatural sex? Umm, How about I get a room at the Hilton for Friday night? Meet me in the lobby at 7:00?" "Wendy too." Her Brother's Giant Cock by Liv2licku© * * * * * Angela watched Clark leave about 6:30 carrying a gym bag. She jumped into her beater Corolla and tailed him, just like in the movies. Maybe she'd find out who his new playmate is and surprise them both! At the hotel she lagged behind and watched him talk to a woman - no, TWO women - in the lobby. Both women were dressed in very sexy clothing and makeup: the taller, younger-looking one with the big tits had on a very tight sweater, a short, frilly skirt and high heels. The shorter, older one had on a classic little black dress, heels and makeup to die for. Heads turned in the lobby as the sexy women with the erect posture began walking slowly toward the elevator with the handsome young man. Angela raced across the lobby and jammed her arm in the closing elevator doors, making them ease back open. "Hello Clark. Hello ladies. I'll be joining you all tonight," she boldly asserted. Mother and daughter stared at Angela, and all three of them breathed in Clark's intoxicating, musky aroma. "Angela! You can see I'm a little busy," Clark said. What are you doing here anyway? You followed me? Why don't you just head home.” "I don't think so. I'll be joining the two - three? of you, or hotel security will hear about this." Clark was confident, but not stupid, so he relented. "Ladies, this is my sister Angela and she'll be coming up to the room with us." Besides, having his sister there might make it even more fun. The four of them entered, sat down and realized that short of sex, they had little in common and nothing to discuss, but any inhibitions they had evaporated with Clark's sex-drenched emanations. "How about strip poker!" offered Mrs. Dean. "I haven't played it since I was in school." "Mom!" said Wendy on top of Clark and Angela's mumbled: "Okay, I guess." Mrs. Dean called room service for playing cards, and ordered sandwiches, salads and Cokes. They sat on the floor, munching and dealing cards. Clark was an abysmally bad player. The women enjoyed watching him remove shoes, socks, shirt and slacks while they were still mostly dressed. He now wore only his boxers with his penis hanging outside the hem against his leg. Mrs. Dean licked her lips, the girls stared. Then Wendy began to steadily lose. She was down to thong panties, thigh-highs, and her sweater when the tight sweater went up over her head, her large breasts jiggling provocatively with each movement. Her mother was obviously proud of her beautiful daughter, and even Angela thought she looked hot in the thong and thigh-highs. Clark lost again and removed the boxers, his last piece of clothing. "Well, game over! How about we let you keep playing if you give yourself a hardon the next time you lose," Mrs. Dean said, delighted with her idea. Mrs. Dean's black dress came off in the next hand and now she was down to panties, thigh highs and a thin, sheer bra highlighting her dark erect nipples. Clark thought she looked extremely fuckable dressed only in lingerie, her dark eyes accentuated with makeup, red lips glistening. All three women got enthusiastic as Clark lost again. "Time for you to make your penis get hard, Clark. Stand up so we can see!" He stood between them, put his hands on his hips and willed himself to a partial erection. The women watched with childlike amazement as it began to extend, curving down toward the floor at the same time that it throbbed and thickened. The room was filled with the musky scent of sex. "Like this?" he asked. "More!" all three yelled, hardly containing their excitement. "It'll need some attention if you want it bigger," he said gripping his cock. All three bounced up to their knees - Wendy and Pam Dean on either side and Angela in the prime center spot. With her hands propped on her knees, Angela leaned forward, opened her mouth wide, stuck out her tongue and slid it under the head of his cock. Then she wrapped her lips around it in an exaggerated gesture. Wendy and her mother looked on curiously. This was, after all, her brother's penis that she was so lovingly starting to fellate. The Deans planted their lips on either side of the shaft and began running their mouths up and down it. A while later Wendy switched places with Angela: "My turn!" Mrs. Dean followed the two younger women, feverishly using her mouth on Clark's cock, bringing him to a full, rigid hardon sticking so far out from his body it looked physically impossible. Wendy and Angela ran their tongues and lips up and down the shaft while Mrs. Dean planted wet kisses on the head, running her tongue all around it before sucking it deep into her throat. Wendy and Angela bumped into Pam's mouth on her down stroke into a three-way kiss with Clark's erect penis in the center. Seeing the women "kiss" around his cock gave Clark an idea. "Wendy, get on the bed with Angela, okay?" "On the bed with your sister?" she asked, knowing what he wanted, resisting only weakly. "Yes, lay down and take each other's clothes off and ... see what happens. Wendy climbed onto the bed with Angela and, giving Clark a questioning look, began undoing Angela's buttons. "Mrs. Dean, suck my cock while I watch." The thought of her daughter on the bed with Angela was troubling but exciting too. "That's it, keep going," he told Angie. Mrs. Dean began sliding her mouth up and down his pole, her hands cupped around his balls and the base of his cock. Wendy and Angela stripped each other down to panties when Angie gave Clark a questioning look. He just nodded at her; she knew what to do. Propped on her elbow, she leaned down and kissed Wendy on the lips. Her hand began to flutter over Wendy's breasts and belly. Slowly Clark watched Angela's hand begin to creep toward Wendy's thong-covered pussy. Her saw her hand cover Wendy's crotch and then her middle finger begin to stroke slowly up and down. Angie leaned down to Wendy's large breasts and gently began kissing her nipples and licking all around her dark and dimpled areolas. Wendy's inhibitions were gone. She accepted the deviant attention, breathing shallowly. Her hand found its way between Angie's legs and in the charged sexual atmosphere, Angie spread them wide so Clark could see Wendy's fingers stroking along her slit. As their passion got serious, Angie pushed Wendy back on the bed, then slowly kissed her way across her breasts, licked her way to her navel and down to the waistband of the panties. She pulled them off Wendy's hips, laid down between her legs, running her hands up the insides of her thighs to her puffy lips. Her own inhibitions demolished, she brought her face closer and licked another girl's pussy for the first time. The show that his sister was putting on with Wendy brought Clark to a new level of arousal. Mrs. Dean could sense the sexual tension through his throbbing cock. She felt Clark's organ stiffen and pulse and then several jets of cum hit her throat. As she swallowed she felt her pussy convulse and waves of pleasure drifted through her insides. She knelt next to him, a glazed-over look on her face, fondling his cock while she watched Angie begin to lick her daughter's pussy. "Does this mean Wendy is a lesbian?" she asked Clark in a quiet, almost slurred voice. "I don't think so. I think they're both just having a good time," Clark said while his sister licked Wendy's pussy, making 'Mmmmh' noises with each slurpy stroke. Wendy spread her legs out wide to either side so they formed virtually a straight line from pointed toe to pointed toe - a dancer's flexibility. Clark and Mrs. Dean could clearly see her wet, pink pussy lips and stiff little clitoris getting lapped. "You make my pussy feel so good, Angie. I think I'm going to cum," she said languorously. Angie slipped a finger into her and continued to lick when Wendy brought her feet back on the bed and started to thrust her hips up to meet Angie's mouth. "Ohhh, Angie!" she moaned, pulling up on her pubis to tighten the skin and heighten her sensation. "Climb up here," Clark said to Mrs. Dean, holding his cock. She straddled Clark's lap facing away from him and with difficulty began to sit down on his huge erection, slowly sliding it into her wet cunt. She planted her feet on the floor on either side of his outstretched legs and began bending and straightening her knees, fucking herself on the giant cock. Angela got off the bed and stood facing Clark and Mrs. Dean. Wendy sat down on the floor in front of her and inserted her index finger into Angie's vagina. She slid her finger in and out as Angie spread her legs. Wendy reached up with her tongue and started lapping at Angie's pussy while fingering her. "Help Wendy out, Mrs. Dean. You eat Angie from behind, " Clark said, lifting her off of his cock and pushing her toward the two younger women. Mrs. Dean, compliant, squatted down behind Angie, cupped her ass cheeks and starting licking her from above her anus to her vagina, meeting her daughter's tongue in the middle. Angie, feeling two warm, wet tongues between her legs from front and back started rocking her hips gently back and forth helping herself reach a creamy orgasm. She smiled at Clark as he fondled his cock. Clark stepped over to the three women, deciding to bury his cock in all three of them, Wendy first. He laid down on his back on the large bed while the women ran their hands over his balls, up and down the shaft of his big penis, each taking turns sucking, admiring it. "It's so hard! Feel it throb when she sucks. I can't wait to get fucked by this again!" They giggled, childlike grins on their faces as they played with their giant toy. Wendy then straddled him, planting her feet on either side of his hips, then squatting down slowly to slide his cock up her channel. She felt completely filled. Her legs got tired from squatting up and down, so Clark had her move to her hands and knees, getting behind her. He worked his organ into her and started stroking in and out. "Oh, My God!" she screamed feeling both pleasure and pain as his giant cock thrust rapidly into her juicy cunt. Meanwhile, Angie slid underneath her Wendy and spread her legs, positioning her pussy in line with Wendy's mouth. Wendy smiled, bent her head down, and sucked at Angie's pink pussy. Mrs. Dean got directly behind Clark, holding onto his hips and pressing her breasts into his back. When he slowed his thrusts, she reached around to his cock and held it in her fist while he slowly drove it into her daughter. Clark gradually increased his thrusts as he neared cumming. He pulsed into her, jerking forward in several spasms. Wendy came, grunting in a high-pitched screech, then collapsed, dropping her head into Angie's crotch. Clark withdrew his dripping cock, still throbbing, and had Mrs. Dean slide into position in place of Wendy. He pushed his cock into her in the missionary position until he bottomed out. She grunted loudly and started bucking and writhing to meet his thrusts. Clark unloaded again and she convulsed with pleasure for a second time that evening. Clark withdrew from Pam Dean's pussy, his dick dripping and throbbing, the head a dark red color, veins pulsing in the long, thick shaft. He stood up on the bed, placing his hands on his hips, proudly displaying his huge prick, glistening with pussy juice and cum from the Dean women. He then allowed himself to go soft. "Awwww," the women cooed in unison. "We like it better when it's hard!" "My turn," Angie said in an alluring, girlish voice. She walked on her knees over to Clark's penis, now limp and swaying. She caressed it lovingly with her both hands, massaging it while she looked into his eyes. "Let yourself get erect, Clark," she implored, and lifted his cock to her mouth to kiss the slit and lick all around the head. His dick lengthened and thickened as she administered soft licks and kisses. The Dean's, also walking on knees, got on either side of him. They kissed and caressed his ass cheeks and massaged the base of his cock and big balls with their hands while Angie sucked and licked his cock. "Lay down there on your side, Angie," Clark ordered, now rigid again. He then lay down on his side facing her and had Pam and Wendy help lift Angie's leg up and position his cock against her pussy. Mother and daughter lay down behind the brother and sister, pressing their breasts into their backs and supporting Angie's upraised leg. "What do you want, Angie?" he asked, staring into her eyes. "Fuck me." "You want your brother to fuck you?" "Yes, brother dear, fuck me!" and Clark thrust hard. Angie gasped as his cock drove into her. Clark watched her face contort with pleasure and pain. "Ohmigod!" She yelled, stuffed like she'd never been before. "YIKES! I feel like I'm splitting in two!" she said as her pussy was stretched and filled to overflowing. Clark slowly slid his cock in and out, stroking rhythmically, gradually increasing the pace. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she squeaked as each thrust pummeled her pussy. "AH! AH! AH!" she yelled louder as she neared her climax. Clark grunted once and unloaded a river into her that set her insides in motion. Her orgasm spouted up through her vagina ending in a cramped, tingling sensation at the back of her neck. Finally, she'd been fucked by her brother's giant cock! "Whew!" she said, limp and sweaty. "It was worth the wait." "Next Friday?" Clark asked over his shoulder, "Same time, same place?" "Oh yes!" the women chorused together. So, when you see three sexy-looking women out together, friendly, close, with contented smiles, you now have some background. Search for the arrogant-looking young man with a bulge in his slacks nearby. Incidentally, Serena, a classmate of Clark's recently found an elusive Malaysian website. She's a skinny, nerdy girl with glasses who ordered a breast enlargement cream: "Pheromonic Pregnenolonic ..." followed by two more unpronounceable words. In very small print on the little insert that accompanied the jar, she read "... sexually addictive breast milk." But that's another story.

ch 1-2

If by reading all I’ve written before, you thought I’ll start narrating my love story with one enigma that is Chloe Emberlight, then you’re mistaken.

There doesn’t exist a possibility of me being in love with her, and I’m sure that she doesn’t see me that way either.  

“You don’t like me, do you?”

“No. You’re creeping me out.”

“That’s too bad. I happen to find you amusing.”

Yes, to Chloe, I’m no more than amusement.

When I’m seeing her, somehow it ended up like I’m a moody infant throwing temper tantrum. She’d smile and the unsaid words would always be loud and clear, she’s looking down on me. It’s not something she can help, her state of mind just couldn’t see me and possibly anyone else as equal. I get it, it’s just the way she is. Even so, nothing can change that it’s not a pleasant experience, being with her.

Still, let us talk about Chloe Emberlight.

I’m going to tell you a story that happened through my perspective, but to be honest I’m not a protagonist material.

Once, someone said that to be a protagonist, one need to be strong. Sadly, I’m no such person.

Too bad, so sad, but that is reality. In the island where magic is abound, and everyone is magical and miraculous, I’m the only exception. The only human. No magic, no miracles. What makes me special there is what makes me so not special among the populace of this planet.

Chloe though, was protagonist material.

Long golden hair, clear blue eyes, smug smile, floral scent and white lacy dress, if you see a petite girl with these feature, high chance it’s Chloe.

Like a carefully crafted ceramic doll sprayed with perfume.

Eternal smile, unsettling eyes, and undeniable beauty.

Also, from being in her presence alone I could get a sense of how strong she is.

Maybe, among magicians, she’s the strongest. If she is, I wouldn’t be surprised. Not that there’s a competition or something to determine that.  

We’d often meet in her green house, filled with strange colorful plants from all around the world. Vines would crawl and tangle and untangle whenever I stayed quiet, slowly braiding themselves into intricate patterns. When she laughed, the flowers would bloom simultaneously. When her smile seemed stiffer and her eyes crinkled in anger, the earth shook as if it’s about to crack open and swallow me whole.

An earth magician.

During my first days with her, I noticed.

Unusually, hers included all things earthy and judging from the range of species in her greenhouse, also wide range of plants. Unlike most who’d only able to control one or part of the many things classified as ‘earth’ and ‘plants’.

And so, word of warning, be careful. Unless you met her when you’re skydiving where she’d have no access to earth or greens, she can almost certainly kill you without having to lift a finger. Perhaps even then she’d be able to kill you. I wouldn’t put it pass her to master many kinds of magic.

It certainly doesn’t help that she lives in a mansion with maids and my parents called her ‘miss’. Pretty sure they bowed a bit too. She must be very influential.

She seemed like she’s around June’s age and yet she has more control of her magic than even my parents.

Like I said, she couldn’t help but to feel superior. I can’t exactly blame her for it too.

That’s Chloe Emberlight.

A mysterious power wrapped in lace, nice and pretty.

Now, as to the question of how and why I’m stuck with her for few hours, every other day every week, it’s because of a fight June and I got into few weeks before.

Siblings. It’s normal and expected for us to get into fights. Actually, it’s normal for anyone in any kind of relationship to have disagreement. That’s why, I didn’t think much of it then. It’s just my sugar high sister getting mad because I refused to play with her. It’s silly, it’s normal, it’s not supposed to cause anything.

Except, it did.

I didn’t realize how alarming it made my mother.

That very night she had me sit down in the dining room, seemingly so serious and sad and unlike her. She’s usually smiling, June got her smile from her.

Apparently, my grades have been dropping. That in itself is not worrying for her, what does is the fact that it’s not because I play too much, or too focused in club activity, or maybe because I mingle with the wrong crowd.

No nothing.

If only it’s because I have my energy and focus concentrated on the wrong thing, maybe she wouldn’t be as worried. Maybe she could have chalked it up to me being in rebellious phase. Instead, I just seemed tired all the time, and as June would put it, it seemed as if I’m losing my soul. If left alone, it’s as if I’d just sleep forever, they said.

Tina waking me up every morning had become something normal.

Most of the time, she even had to wake me up for dinner too.

“It’s like you’re tired… tired of nothing. Sweetheart, would you tell me what’s wrong?”

Apparently, June was worried because of the same thing.

We used to play a lot. I used to accompany her and Tina everywhere. To the beach that June likes so much, to library, to the arcade, to the mall…

We fought a lot due to it too, has always been since the beginning. Me not wanting to go to where they want to go is not that odd. Most brothers, specially when asked to accompany their much younger sisters would if asked to go to some Princess Land. But back then, they’d just pout and be angry. Sometimes they’d go to where I pick. Sometimes I’d go with them anyway.

I never realized how alarming it was to my sisters.

When I just close the doors to their faces.

When I don’t even give alternatives.

When I just told them to go away.

The talk continued with June being all tearful, so very unlike her, and apologizing for nothings. Tina was usually not as loud as her sister, and when I realized it she was already tugging my sleeve and red-faced and hiccupping.

Then one of the apologizes June said happened to be, “I’m sorry people bully you at school because you can’t use magic… I’m sorry, big bro…”, and as anyone imagined it was not the kind of revelation my parents expected.

So yeah. It didn’t help that June and Tina are my adopted sisters, and it reached their ears that they might have been adopted because our parents are disappointed in me.

That’s why I mostly stayed quiet. I know that it’s not the case. It took a while until I could convince them, my sisters and both of my parents, that I really don’t believe them.

Long story short, they admitted me to therapy sessions with Chloe.

Before you ask, no, Chloe doesn’t have any license whatsoever. At least not that I know of.

They said Chloe was the only person who’d known someone who’s like me, who was born into family of magicians and yet couldn’t cause any miracles. They said they didn’t expect her to magically (lol) enables me to use magic, but at least hopefully I’d be able to learn some tips and tricks as to how to put the assholes in their places.

Well, since Chloe was, in lack of better term, Chloe, I guess they have great reason to expect something like that.

They said they’d refrain from talking to the teachers because I told them not to, I told them the retaliation would be dangerous, but… I know that they’d not hesitate if I get any worse.

I’d planned on faking my progress, but apparently Chloe’s method of fueling my spite works.

They always said that endorphin is the hormone which makes us happier, and it’s produced more when people are being active. Maybe. Was it like that? I’m not so sure myself. I certainly don’t feel happier, despite what everyone said.

How can I be happy when the first thing Chloe suggested was playing demon tag with her as demon, but the catch is being caught means that I’m dead.

She’s a demon. She really was.

She really thought it’s fine to sit and relax, drinking her stupid flower infused tea and eating her stupidly delicious looking strawberry shortcake, while the vines slither around like snakes and chased after me. In one corner of the greenhouse, there’s group of plants with leaves the shape of green tacos with thorns, the inside is red and wet with mucus. Somehow, the leaves moved and the tacos imagery in my head was replaced with huge jaw.

She gave a wave, then those jaws suddenly got bigger.

Much much bigger.

They snapped and snapped loudly and drooled and there’s no doubt in my mind that if I got caught I’d end up as fertilizer to those meat eating plants.

I forget sometimes that in this island practically anything is possible.

Controlling greeneries, something I usually associate with hastening growth or blooming of flowers, AS IN THEY DON’T BECOME GIANT MAN EATING PLANTS, can be much deadlier in this seemingly angelic girl.

I should have known, really.

I ran around, avoiding vines and grass and flowers and fruits and roots as all kinds of plants becoming animate and they only stopped when I got so angry I grabbed a potted plant, I think it’s meant for the newly rooted baby plants or whatever they call it, and before the small stem could become a giant beanstalk I threw the pot at Chloe.

Not to my surprise, the stem did grow bigger midair, and it helped propelled the pot. Green stalk chasing after me, and at that time I wished a pyromania was there to burn the whole place to ashes.

It landed on the sofa, the dirt ended up staining her pure white dress.

(I found out later that someone did manage to burn the greenhouse down, but it’s story for another time)

(When I met that boy again, I bought him ice cream on every opportunity, just because he made Chloe so much cuter)

The pot failed to harm her, and yet everything stopped. Chloe grinned so widely.

“Oh good. You still want to live.”

She commented as she brushed the dust off her dress. No stain was left behind. Definitely magic.

“Let’s see… what did Victoria told me again? Prescribe energy capsule? Huumm… hypersomnia, anhedonia… guilt? Ignorable, I think. Maybe no energy? Doubtful. You seemed so energetic running around my greenhouse. Concentration, quite sharp, I’d say. Maybe lack of appetite, then again the food in your place left things to be desired. Certainly no suicide ideation. You’re not that bad, boy.”

She listed off the things I’d later recognize as symptoms for depression so casually, tapping her finger to her palm all the while, cheerful smile plastered on her pretty face.

“Oh, dear, you seem so flustered. Kids these days, too little time playing outside, I say. You need to do more exercise. I’ll tell your parents to get you one of those console game that’s been on the rage lately. The kinetics game is quite fun, don’t you think so too?”

What the hell.

If you thought so too, then you’re with me.

She’s out of this world.

The shock was enough to snap me out of whatever it was making my family worried. The effect was, miraculously, instant even without magic per se.

My family loved her even more, sadly so.

My sisters too, thanks to the console.

The trip to the magicless human land was a good plus too, I think. June somehow managed to convince everyone to visit Hawaii and apparently was quite smitten with the place. With its sunny disposition, and clear blue sea and awesome waves…

“So you’ve realized? What you needed was just a vacation.”

She sipped on her tea.

“Not just any vacation. You needed to be away from magicians. Bendy power, your sister’s. Ask her to bring you to the human world more often.”

“… I will.”

She said just like an all knowing grandma.

“And eat your cakes, dear.”

She’s right, her cakes are better than in my home’s.

Still, it’s not the human world that made me feel better though, that’s her mistake.

Chloe smiled mysteriously and suddenly I doubted that she hadn’t figured that out yet.

She’s annoying that way.