#dumb hopeless old man

[mortyinc]

op, i just wanted to you know that if i could only interact with Researcher Rick once I'd take his cheeks in my hands and kiss his forehead so lightly <333 He needs more love!

Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile.

[angelwhisp3rs]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pretty girl

Pairing: DI!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Leon met his new obsession in the college girl that is his friends daughter.

Tags: Smut; fluff; p in v; oral (f/m); loss of virginity; there's an age gap (i imagined reader being 23-25 and leon 37; he only met her as an adult, so no icky age stuff); breeding kink; a slight daddy kink; innocence kink (both are consenting adults! reader is not dumb and knows about it, and she teases leon with it, like a little minx!)

Notes: this fic has a slight darker theme (VERY LITTLE because a lot would go against my values), so if you feel uncomfortable with that, please don't read it! i have other fics that might be better suited for you! stay safe!

Also, this was one of my old fics!

The city always felt empty to her. Sure, she had her dad with her, but it was always missing something. Her dad is always off to god knows where, probably on his so called “missions”, while she had her studies and college classes. 

After that fateful day, Wednesdays became her favorite day of the week, as it was the day where Leon came to a cookout to celebrate one of their missions. With only one look, everything changed - as their eyes met each other, she knew she was his. His gaze gave her chills, the blue of his eyes showed a sea of emotions that she couldn’t pinpoint. He gave her a passing smile, and after that, hurricane Leon was a part of her day-to-day life.

At first, Leon wasn't really present at the usual football dinners or barbecues her father was used to having after every successful mission.

After some weeks, the man and her dad became close friends, since they fought together, saving lives. Her dad, however, had no idea that Leon wanted to fuck the brains out of his “treasure”. Whenever he had his famous barbecues on Sundays, he missed how hungry Leon looked at the girl, how her pretty dresses flowed, and always teased him of seeing the parts that he really wanted.

As their friendship grew, so did Leon's feelings. He felt like a pervert because of their age gap, but it was impossible to resist her smile, her laughs, her curves and her personality. He saw how the perverted fucks of the agency looked at her, and it always made him want to shoot every single one of them. He craved to claim her, showing her around as his, showing that these poor idiots would never have a chance with her. He knew that was impossible, until her dad died, so he did the best thing he could think of: he gave her gifts.

Whenever they went on long missions, Leon bought dresses, creams, perfumes and lingeries to give to her. Of course that the last items were a secret between him and her. It was really tough, but whenever he saw her wearing the special gifts, his heart and cock were pumped full of blood. 

So, he asked her, as a courtesy, to always model to him in private her gifts. She loved it. Leon looked at her with adoration, and such a penetrating look, that she couldn’t quite figure out the emotions behind them. But god, if she didn’t lose herself in his arms whenever he hugged her, and he touched her body as if he was inspecting his gift: her. Those were her favorite times, because she always came home with wet panties and hard nipples, so desperate for his touch.

Because of her father's protectiveness, and her hectic life, she had no experience, whatsoever, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew of the game of attraction they played, and knew how her so-called “innocence” turned Leon on to the point where his cock got too hard to touch. She wanted him to go crazy on her.

Leon was also aware that she wasn’t a hopeless innocent woman, it was all a fantasy that she happily indulged him every time.

After some time, some rookies got admitted to the D.S.O, and they casually made their way to the usual hangouts. She felt excited to have new faces in the usual events that her dad holds, but consistent socializing always tired her out. Because of it, she usually secluded herself in her room for some time - and her dad knew all about it, so it wasn’t news to him.

In one of the events held at her place, Leon returned from the bathroom and she was nowhere to be seen. The man grew worried, and went in looking for her. As he opened her bedroom door, he saw his pretty baby laying down tired on her bed. He approached her, caressing her head “Are you okay, baby girl?” 

She nodded, smiling softly at him “Just overwhelmed, don’t worry about it”

His heart softened, and went to sit on her bed, pulling her sideways on his lap. The older man's arms wrapped her in a tight hug, and shushed her. 

He pressed gentle kisses at her forehead, trying to make her feel better.

“You always know how to make it better, don't you?” She giggles, then nuzzles her nose in his neck. Fuck, she could feel herself getting wetter from his scent.

The man laughs at that, and he could also feel his cock hardening. He realized he had the perfect moment to have her to himself, and he wasn’t crazy to waste the opportunity. “You didn’t model to me the clothes you are wearing, darling” His hands move up her legs, massaging them slowly. 

She looks at him with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry, I had to help my daddy organize the barbecue today as he was running behind”.

Leon chose to ignore the tingling feeling he had whenever the word “daddy” came out of her pretty lips. “It’s okay, sweet thing” He pressed a kiss to her forehead “you can show me now, can’t you?”

She nods at him, then she starts talking sweetly, almost if the previous moment didn’t happen with that disgusting man. “Well, my dress you gave me last summer”.

He hums, passing his hands all over her body, feeling how the fabric behaves against her soft skin. “I remember it, pretty girl. Love seeing you wear it” His nose glides against her throat, creating goosebumps on her sensitive skin.

She giggles at his comments “that’s why I always wear it.” She feels him smiling at her neck, then keeps going to the most interesting part to both “and i’m wearing the pretty panties with the pink bow, the ones you gave me recently”.

He smirks, his voice getting huskier. “They are your favorite, isn’t it? Show me, sweet baby.” His hands move up her thighs, raising the hem of her dress to her waist.

She opens her legs slightly, so he has a better view. She prays he can’t see her arousal, she doesn't want to come off as easy, but it’s just too damn hard to resist him. The panties were her favorite for one thing only: how soft they feel. The white fabric was satin-like, and the bow on top made her pussy look like a gift wrapped for Leon's delight. 

His hands start massaging her hips, fingers passing through the fabric, not low enough to touch her clothed pulsing clit. His fingers trace the bow, and the hem of the garment, feeling how temping such little fabric can be. He couldn’t help but snicker as whenever his hands moved a little bit lower, her legs seemed to open a little bit more. 

He pressed kisses on her throat now, rewarding how much of a good girl she is, showing herself to him, becoming a needy slut in his lap as soon as he touched her. “Good job, sweet girl. I’m so happy that you like my gifts.” 

One of his hands moved to the top of the dress, tracing the pearl button in it. After some moments and soft whines from her, he moved a little bit to the side, tracing delicate circles where her nipples are. “Where is your bra, baby?”

Her pretty face hides in his neck, and she quietly murmurs “Didn’t want to wear it with this dress”.

With that, like a hunter preparing to feast on its prey, he smirks, and tells her with a condescending tone: “Oh, my pretty girl is not wearing one now? Is it too much with your pretty dress, baby girl?”

She nods and gives him a pout, knowingly starting that seduction game they played. Her cunt was wet and needy, pulsing for him. She was sure that it was red and puffy, and Leon was all aware of it.  

He tuts, one finger circling her nipple, other two lowering dangerously to unexplored places. “It’s okay, darling, you are always so good, let me think for you, okay? I’ll treat you well, not like any other man out there, angel”. He proceeds to lightly trace his fingers to her lower lips, going up and down, not pressing any force, just traveling his fingers to her precious pussy. 

Her slick starts to wet his fingers further, she now fully lays on Leon’s chest, legs wider than ever. The soft moans and whimpers leaving her mouth were music to him, his cock pulsing to fuck her and stretch that delicious hole open. Maybe she would even let her fuck her other puckered hole. Even imagining his seed seeping out of her holes made him go insane, but he had to be patient, give to her slowly, get her addicted so she comes back for more.

He whispers sensually to her ear, voice dripping with lust “Feeling better, sunshine? Or my needy, spoiled baby needs more?” his fingers don’t stop tracing her pussy over her ruined panties, sure that her slick was drenching his pants too.

“C-can I have more, Leon? Please?” She begs him perfectly, his eyes roll back in his head, finally hearing her say his name in that desperate tone.

“Let’s take off these panties, baby. We don’t wanna ruin them, do we?” He helps her remove the fabric, and his mouth watered at the sight. He had never seen a woman, in his entire life, be so wet and puffy for him like she was. He knew that after today, he would spend his entire life buried deep in her womb. His fingers traced lightly her naked pussy, admiring, collecting her slick, completely hypnotized. 

His fingers gently touch her entrance, gathering her juices and spreading all over her sensitive place. After getting it lubricated enough, he traced slow circles in her clit, and her body seems like it went through a shock, back arching and hands going to his hair. She moaned his name softly, making groans leave Leon's mouth in satisfaction. 

“Open your dress a little bit, princess, let me make you feel even better. My baby deserves it” She proceeds to open the top of her dress, her boobs spilling out. His free hand moves two of his fingers to her mouth, muffling her moans, to not attract attention, and wet them so he can pleasure her beautiful tits. She sucks his fingers wantonly, as his fingers circle her bud faster.

After some time, his fingers leave her mouth so he can finally abuse her neglected nipples, the slick from her saliva still present on his fingers. She had to bite her lip hard, eyes tearing up from pleasure. The man is in cloud 9, seeing her succumb to him so easily. 

“Is my princess feeling good, huh? Love seeing you like that, baby, you’ll come for me every day from now on, okay? I’ll give everything to you, make you only mine. Do you want that, angel?” His fingers start moving just right, and she is stepping each second closer to the edge. 

She can only give him desperate nods, the knowledge he wants to do it everyday fuels her further with desire - she was already obsessed with him. It takes Leon to start pressing kisses to her throat, and she unravels on his fingers, coming with his name on her mouth. “Leon, I’m coming, o-oh god… f-fuck…”

“That’s it my angel, fuck, how delicious you look. Come for me, and I’ll give this to you forever, okay, sweetheart? My fucking baby, from now on” his fingers move slower, letting her ride the waves.

She sits on his lap panting, heart beating fast, rosy cheeks showing the great work out she’s been through. The man kisses every inch of skin he can reach, completely satiated from seeing her spent body because of him. 

He lays her down on her bed, then grabs one of her pink towels to softly clean her wet delicious cunt, pressing a kiss on the skin at the top. He grabs one of the babydolls he gave to her and dresses her up, kissing her arms, legs and neck again, making the girl give him soft giggles. 

Lastly, he presses kisses to her forehead, and whispers to her ear “go to sleep baby, have sweet dreams, my love”. And she obeys him, letting soft beard patches and calloused fingers guide her to her dreams.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

One month after the barbecue, Leon didn’t make any advances on the girl again, letting her reach the peak of her desperation. He had seen the looks she gave her, and even if it was hard to ignore sometimes, he had to lay low to not raise suspicions, and maybe tease her some more. 

He entered the kitchen and saw her cooking the sides to help her dad with feeding the guests. As she stood cooking on the stove, he watched her silently, every inch of him burning with lust. He comes behind her, placing his hands gently on her hips, his lips moving against her skin. “I really missed you, pretty baby.”

She gasps, momentarily forgetting about the food, but not turning to him “Hm, not enough as you ignored me” 

His hands start massaging her hips, giving her a reassuring smile. “Sorry, baby, but we have to lay low, you know that” His hands now caressing her cheeks “After you help your dad, we can slip away from the guests and I'll reward you for being my special girl, how does that feel?”.

Her eyes light up, and she nods excitedly. He chuckles at her eagerness, and presses a loving his to her forehead, letting her be. 

Oh, how fun this night is about to be.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

They mingle with everyone at the barbecue, having some D.S.O agents and some of the neighbors from around. 

As she was washing the dishes, Leon was behind her every second of it, taking advantage that the kitchen was secluded from the hangout spot and pressing kisses to her neck and praises to her skin: “such a good girl”, “so obedient”, “so perfect”. She couldn’t help but feel her hands trembling a little bit as she did the dishes, she was hoping he forgot about his little “show”, otherwise she would have to show him her ruined panties pressed on her cunt. God, she was blushing from shame.

As she finished washing, before she could say anything, his raspy voice whispered to her ear, hands now touching her hips again. “Gonna model f’me today, sweet baby?” 

She gulps, nervous and excited: she couldn’t say no to him when his voice got like this. Ever since he touched her a month ago, she tried to chase that feeling again, every day having to hump her poor little pillow, to try to reach bliss again. Sadly, only he seemed to have the knowledge for that, causing her to go to bed with a wet needy pussy. “Okay…” her pretty voice was meek, playing coy with him.

The man smirked, as he had of an idea why she was shy. He gently grabbed her hands, giving her a reassuring smile, guiding her to his bedroom. As they got there, he sat on the edge of bed, legs spreading to accommodate her body between them. He starts passing his hands on her body, sighting heavily in pleasure, after denying himself of her body for days. “This dress is new baby, where did you get it, hm?”

She smiles at him, her redness still on her cheeks “I bought it when I went to the mall with my friends.” She twirls for him, the wind showing her pink panties hugging her bottom. He bites his lip, and gives her a smile “I like it, sweet thing. Looking like a princess, aren’t you?”

She giggles, and wraps her arms around him, her pretty face hiding in his neck again. She shines beneath his praises. “Thank you, Leon.”

He presses a chaste kiss on her cheek, his rough hands passing in her hair. She is his sweet little baby, he would take his sweet time with her sweet young body. “Lay down in bed, sweet baby. Need to check you entirely”.

She lays down for him, their bodies not at the edge of the bed anymore, fully laying down. He gently removes the straps on her shoulders, kissing every inch of her skin as the fabric passes by. She was breathing heavier now, he could sense how aroused she was. He pushes down the top of her dress until it reaches her waist. Her pink bra is shown to him, one that was one of his gifts for her. “Such a pretty bra, sweetheart. You always look so pretty in it.” He whispers as he traces the item.

He unclaps her bra, her perfect breasts at show to him. His mouth latches to one of them, while he pinches her other nipple. He rolls her buds with his tongue and fingers, the only sound in his room is her desperate and quiet moaning. “Oh god, Leon!”

He switches his fingers and mouth, giving both her delicious nipples the same treatment. When he is done, both are hard and sensitive, ready for more. He had to stop himself, or he would lose control way too quickly. He had to enjoy the night, after days of not listening to his needs.

Her doe, glazed eyes look at him, watching him as he watches her. His hands start to go lower, to the end of her dress. He raised up the clothing, and he groaned at what he saw: her matching panties ruined from her slick, her perfect lips pressing at the wet fabric. “Oh baby, did I do that?” She nods to him, her blush coming back. “Let’s take these out, hm?”.

After her consent, he removes her panties and dress too. Just like last time, her center was red, puffy and gushing. He sighs at the sight, and traces her lower lips gently, easing her into the sensations. Her quiet whimpers were heard, fuelling him to finally go a little further. Just using his thumb, he circles her clit, enough to make her feel good, but still not enough to make her cum. His mouth presses kisses to her neck, leaving love bites to her chest: his claim hidden, their lustful little secret. 

Her mouth forms and forms an “O”, and her hips pick up the pace, following his thumb, drunk on so little. The agent smirks to her neck, thumb applying just a little bit more of pressure. She wails louder, her juices soaking his sheets too. “Oh, baby girl… I have been mean, neglecting you, haven’t I?” As she agrees, he gives her a hungry smile, and whispers “no more of that, okay?”.

He crouches between her legs, spreading them apart, and flattens his tongue, licking her cunt. Her body arches at the new feeling, it was something she never felt before. He oscillates his movements in pressing his tongue in her, and sucking her clit to his mouth. Her moans get louder when he enters one finger in her hole, fucking it nice and slowly, letting she get used to it. His mouth doesn’t stop, distracting her from the intrusion. As she got used to it, he added another finger, wanton moans leaving her. 

She clutches his hair, it was too much, too much, making her orgasm closer. After days of not getting anything from him, his tongue and fingers pressing into that spot get her to her edge in no time, and she gushes in his face, Leon swallowing it all with low grunts. 

He goes to her face, and they finally have their first kiss, marked by her taste and their hunger for each other. He gently wraps his arms around her, letting her shaking body come down, while still connecting their mouths together. He parts to press kisses to her cheeks, murmuring soft praises: “did so good, baby girl”, and “such a pretty girl, all for me”.

After she calms down in his arms, he kisses her again, gently this time. He whispers to her, afraid of breaking their bubble: “that felt good, sweet thing?”

She answers him with an eager nod. At that moment, she was putty in the man's hands, he could ask her anything and she would do it, so he took advantage of that. “Baby, wanna make me feel happier?” he already knew her answer to that, but still had to ask. As she consents again, he starts unbuckling his belt, then, opening the buttons on his pants, not taking it off, it would be her job, after all. He stands before her, letting her sit on the edge of the bed.

The girl looks at him with wide eyes, hopeful and eager to please him. She had an idea of what he was proposing, and she was a mix of nervousness and excitement. He only motions with his head, and she proceeds to take off his pants, his hard, throbbing cock springing free. Her mouth salivates looking at him, ready to please him in any way he asks. 

He looks at her with a warm smile, then orders: “Take it baby, it’s yours. I’ll teach you how to do it”.

Not one moment later, she softly grabs his dick, tracing it and admiring it. He sighs, finally relieving himself from all this teasing he had to endure for a long time. He was gonna reap what he sowed. “Put the tip on your mouth, princess, it’s gonna feel even better for me”.

She obeys the older man, sucking his tip lightly. She was clumsy at first, not knowing how to move her tongue, but as she heard his grunts, she fixed her movements. Her soft hands jerked what she couldn’t fit in her mouth, she must’ve done something right, since his grunts turned into moans and huffs. “That’s right baby, suck me dry. Let me fill your mouth, angel.”

As she’s gotten braver, more started to fit in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks like he ordered. Her tongue traces the vein in his cock, and his moans began to get deliciously louder. Although still uncoordinated, her pace gets faster, and in minutes he rips her away. She was so into it she didn’t even notice how Leon looked: he was panting, sweat forming in his face, that was slightly red. “Got me so close baby, you were wonderful”.

She is happy at the praise, happier as he kisses her again - now their mouths had both the taste of them. Like a starved animal, the man gets on top of her, grabbing every inch of flesh he could come across. The kisses were desperate, but still filled with care for her. “Will you let me put it in, sweet baby? Will you let me make love to you?”

Her breath hitches, suddenly nervous. She knew that was coming, but an idea is different from the reality. He notices her nervousness, and slows everything down. He was eager, yes, but she was his baby, and he would take care of her whatever the circumstances were. “Hey, pretty girl, it’s ok if you don’t want to, I promise i won’t be mad-”

Her eyes widened “no, no, no! I really want it… I just don’t wanna disappoint you”. Even if she was naked, she felt exposed to him now. He smiled at her, pressing gentle kisses to her mouth “honey, you would never let me down. Everything we’ve done by now already feels like a dream to me, pretty things like yourself are never present in my life.”

Her body relaxes at the reassurance, and with a more confident smile, her arms wrap around his shoulders, letting him get on top. “Thank you, Leon. I’m ready”.

He hovers her smaller body, putting each of her legs on his hips. He could see her needy wet cunt gaping, desperate to have him. He grabs his member, and slowly pushes into her entrance, drawing heavy breaths from both of them. He slowly inserts more and more to her, checking her reactions, watching if it was too much.

On her end, she was going insane. Her previous orgasm, as well as his fingers helped her. There was a stretch, but it was such a pleasant one. They could feel him opening her tight gummy walls, the slow insertion being heartbreaking for both of them. 

As he is fully inside her, he gives the pretty girl a break. “That’s it baby, it’s all in. Did such a great job, letting me get deep inside your pretty hole” he whispers caringly in her ears, waiting for her to adjust to his size.

“I’m okay now, Leon. Please move” her sweet voice begs for him, how could he ever deny her?

He starts moving slowly, letting soft whimpers leave her juicy lips. “Fuck, baby girl, you are swallowing me. I knew your cunt would be this needy, I knew it.” He kisses her passionately, his hips rocking slowly into hers.

Her gasps and moans fuelled him, picking his pace. His body lowers into hers, chest to chest, fucking her throughly, looking directly in her eyes. “My, baby you look so good like this, drunk on my cock. Gonna give it to you everyday, I promise.”

If anyone saw her face, they would tell that she was high, but she was walking on clouds. His big cock made her so full, she finally felt like something was right in her life. That’s where she should be: underneath him, taking what he wanted to give her. “Oh, Leon, please don’t stop…oh god”.

“Won’t stop, baby. I’mma keep fucking you deep, just like my pretty girl deserves.” his hips pick up the pace, now sitting on his toes, arching her hips, making him finally reach that little spot inside her. Her moans are hard to keep down, but she bites her pillow. “Found it, baby. Gonna keep hitting it, darling.”

She now resorted to grabbing hard the sheets, boobs bouncing with his movements, he drilled into her in a way that brought tears to her eyes, she was overwhelmed in pleasure.

His cock throbs inside her, he wished to keep going for a long time, but the vision was too much: her sweet pussy enveloping him, creaming his cock with her juices, while her breasts move on her chest at his force, all that by chanting his name over and over again. One of his hands reaches her swollen red bud, circling it as he fucks her, hoping to make her cum as fast as he will.

“Leon, oh god I’m cumming, oh god, oh god, oh god, please don’t stop!” Her desperate moans are muffled by her pillow once more, her beautiful legs shaking around his hips. He grunts in response to her “that’s it baby, get your cum around my cock, let me paint your pretty insides, fuck, you are only gonna walk around dripping with my cum”.

After a few moments of this, she clamps hard around on his cock, her walls throb, and she cums around him, leaving a nice white ring around his shaft, his title being let out on a final scream. Feeling that, it triggers his own orgasm, making her clamp down harder as she feels him coming inside her “fuck angel, fuck, you are my baby girl, mine, only mine”.

His hips move slowly, letting both come down from their highs. He lowers, torsos touching, giving her a final passionate kiss. He finally stops moving, but remains kissing her, caressing her hair. “Good job, sweet thing, my pretty girl. You make me so proud” he lays beside her, putting her head to rest on his upper chest. 

She nuzzles his neck, basking in his affections. “Thank you, Leon. That felt so good”. 

Leon realized that they didn't have much longer to keep away from the party without being weird, but he figured she deserved a calm relaxation.

Finally, he was hers and she was his.

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2

Dustin visits the next day, sitting next to Wayne with the same book he’s had for the past few days. Turning to the page that was dog-eared, reading. Voices and all. Just like Eddie does when he’s practicing for one of those campaigns. Claiming that it’s better to get it down with someone else’s words so he can improvise. So he doesn’t have to memorize some script and can be in the moment. Let his mind do the workings along with the players. 

It’s one of the many parts of Eddie that Wayne sees in this kid. The dramatics, the drive. The snobbiness about certain things that don’t really matter to the rest of the world. But it matters to them, so it matters to the people who care about them too. 

If Eddie were awake, he might yell at the kid for turning the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. Even though all the books he gets are second-hand and already torn and bent in all sorts of ways. But it’s about keeping the art pristine. The author put their heart and soul into this work, it’s not meant to be sullied. Wayne saw Eddie bend the corner of a page a million times over though, he just likes making a big stink about nothing. Just to get a rise out of people, make them laugh. Wayne can imagine that Eddie liked to make Dustin laugh a lot. 

“Have the doctors said anything new?” Dustin asks after finishing the chapter. 

Wayne shakes his head. “Same old, same old. Don’t worry about it too much though, he wouldn’t want you to.”

“He wouldn’t want a lot of the things that happened over the past week. So he’ll have to deal with it.” After a pause, he asks, “How are you doing?”

That makes Wayne laugh. “You don’t have to go worryin’ about me either. You’re just a kid.”

“And you’re just a man waiting for your kid to wake up. The same way I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. At the end of the day, we’re all still people. That sometimes need a break. So, how are you doing?”

It’s scary how much Wayne sees Eddie in this kid. “It’s hard comin’ here to hear the same thing every day.” That’s all Wayne’s willing to say to a kid. 

Hard is definitely a word most people would use to describe his situation. Difficult, disheartening. Maybe even hopeless. But there’s still some hope in this old heart that keeps Wayne coming back day in and day out. Keeps him moving while only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Cause as soon as the night comes around, it’s right back to the plant. Making the money to pay for the care his boy needs to keep living. To pay for the roof over his own head enough so he’ll live to see it happen. 

Truth is, Wayne’s dying here. From the fatigue. From the endless waiting. From the slowly draining pool of hope. Nothing seems to change. Nothing gets better. Six days in a medically induced coma with no hopes of ever waking up. Wayne’s not dumb enough to think that the chances increase the more days pass without him showing any signs of improvement. 

Part of him says that this is the state Eddie will be in for the rest of his life. Wonders if it’s worth all of this just to keep him alive. If he’s really suffering in there and would be better off resting forever. But then the heart monitor keeps beeping and his brain is still active. Wayne’s boy is still in there, he’ll come back soon. 

“Yeah, I bet that’s hard. I still have hope though, I was there when he came in. He looks a lot better now.”

There’s a knock on the door that keeps Wayne from responding. It’s the Harrington boy, in normal clothes this time. Discharged. 

“Sorry to interrupt but your mom said it’s time to go home.”

Dustin dramatically rolls his eyes. “Which one, my actual mother or you?”

“Your actual mother, but I happen to agree with her. Come on, you got school in the morning.” Harrington crosses his arms, looking like he’s ready to start a standoff. 

But instead of fighting Dustin stands. “Have a good night Mr. Munson. I’ll still try to visit as much as I can even though school’s starting back up again.”

“Thanks, kid, I’ll try.”

Harrington ruffles Dustin’s hair as he walks out the doorway. Standing there for a beat before turning back to Wayne. “We’ve never officially met, I’m Steve.”

Steve holds out his hand, waiting for Wayne to shake it. Wayne debates whether that’s a good idea or not. Apparently, it takes too long as Steve returns his hand to his side. 

“I wanted to apologize for the scene I made the other day, you didn’t deserve that. I was just so shocked that they actually cuffed him to the bed. Still have him cuffed to the bed.” Steve looks at Eddie with a guilt that Wayne doesn’t understand. Like he’s the reason Eddie’s strapped to the bed. 

Wayne continues to say nothing, not quite sure what would be appropriate. Tell him that it’s ok, that it didn’t bother him. Or thank him for believing that Wayne knew was true. That his boy was innocent. 

There was more to this story than he knew. Something to do with the kid being there and the rich boy standing in the doorway looking like this is all his fault. When Wayne knows the same scars mark Steve just as much as they do Eddie. Steve made sure that everyone knew that. Using it as proof that Steve was there, and that Eddie was innocent. 

Steve was ready to offer himself up as a witness for a man that the town hates. Wayne should be grateful for that, but it doesn’t seem right. They were part of different worlds. Different status, interests. It didn’t make sense for them to be in the same place at all. Yet here they are supposedly having gone through the same vicious attack. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Steve continues when Wayne stays silent. “I’m more than happy to help out. Eddie was kind of a new friend and I hate seeing him like this as much as you do.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Wayne snaps. He hates charity, especially from this kid. For some reason he doesn’t really understand why. 

Steve is taken aback. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. I know my boy and I know how my boy thinks about people like you. So don’t go ‘round gaining sympathy points from the real people who are suffering.”

“I, I wasn’t,” Steve stammers. “I would never.”

“Steve,” Dustin yells. “Get your ass moving, we’re your ride too.”

Steve sighs. “Coming, Jesus. I’m sorry for offending you. I won’t bother you again.”

Wayne shakes his head when Steve leaves, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn’t harsh enough. He’s not sure. 

He’s not sure about a lot of things anymore.

part 4

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[fatesundress]

⭑ sunlight parallel pseudostars. tom riddle x reader

summary. your reunion is long overdue for the small thing it should be, sacred for the dingy place it finds you, and most consequentially, entirely on purpose.

tags. gn afab reader, part one of an inevitable part two but this one is just pining because nonny asked so nicely, yes there is fluff but it's a tom pov, so... i do what i can, post-hogwarts, mutual pining (but emphatically, arduously, overwhelmingly tom), tom and reader were hopeless fools in school who never confessed their feelings for each other, legilimency/occlumency training as flirting, reader definitely filter searches the slow burn tag, self-cockblocking, i can't tell if this is ooc even by my own delusional standards, hopeful 'ending' as an apology for my last tom fic, please accept this humble offering

note. finished my first request!! who knew i could do it! i apologize first and foremost for my inactivity and i want to say WOAHHH thank you so much for 400! i'm hoping to make up for my absence by turning this into either a two-parter or a longer mini-series. i did actually forcibly refrain from ending this in smut because i want to try my hand at a slightly slower-burn since my usual preference is like... at least 100k words of longing stares before they even hold hands. i'm trying my best.

word count. 4.9k

There’s something, at least, in the far table at the right side of the bar, that makes the process a tad less dull. It’s somehow quieter here than his flat over Knockturn, sparse with a few old wizards with beards caught in the froth of their cups, Tom’s bend of the pub warm from the fire, crackling with kindling and the scratch of his quill, drizzled in moonlight tealish enough to remind him of the Slytherin common room when little else does nowadays. Something — yes. A tolerable reprieve. The sort of monotony he likes.

As opposed to Caractacus Burke’s constant, doltish solicitations; Tom ponders when the day will come that the man strikes a deal so dumb it lights the tip of someone’s wand green and kills him. It doesn’t drive Tom to any immense grief to consider. On particularly tedious days, he staves off boredom by imagining doing it himself.

But this reprieve can only serve him so well. Tom doesn’t drink — certainly not the dreck they serve here, though he doubts even the finest of wines could tempt him to obfuscate his better senses — doesn’t dance, doesn’t take anyone home even on the rare occasion there’s someone in this pub of bearable taste (except the one time, and that was more a case study than a surrender to gratification). Essentially, he sits at his table and steals the heat and the barkeeps are wise enough to let him.

He’s mused over the exact verbiage of this tome for days. Alchemical equations are the one thing that still occasionally stump him, and Tom is eager to rectify that.

He puts quill to parchment. It bleeds when he comes up short of words. He holds infinitesimally tighter, and the ink spreads like tendrils imagined in the dark; the sort of amorphous shapes that appear on the ceiling when all the lights have gone out. He stares. He lets the shapes form, but finds nothing informative in them, and so sets his quill down and watches leaves fall from the chestnut tree splitting open the sidewalk outside.

Cold air wafts in when the door groans open. There’s the click of dress shoes and a murmur at the bar, followed by a tumbler shaking and a glass being poured.

“Oh, no — er — that one always sits alone,” he hears the barkeep say to the dress shoes.

Tom refrains from turning his head.

 “Doesn’t like to be bothered,” he adds, dress shoes skidded to a halt.

A pause. A sense of eyes on him Tom elects to ignore.

“I know.”

There’s a smile in that voice. He remembers it. The teeth of it, the lips, the tongue that sometimes darts between them.

It must be very late.

He’ll look up and realise there are things other than wine that can addle a person. Too many books, not enough books, not enough sleep, a day gone by without a single spell cast, an itch for control, wanting and not having, and,

you, after all this time.

The lattermost two have for a long time been the same.

Your hair is different than it was before, your figure presented in the rarity of your own clothes when he’s so accustomed to your school robes, but it would be rather bizarre if you ever wore those again. You’re too modern for muggle and magical alike — trousers and a formal shirt, hair somewhere between kempt and wind-blown, the aforementioned nice shoes Scourgified to a squeaky black as you come closer. (You’re coming closer. What a revelation.) A drink floats beside you, your fingers undulating softly to maintain the charm.

“You,” he says, like he doesn’t remember.

You grin. “Me. Sharp as ever, Tom. You look it too.”

The nebulous shape of acumen returns to him and it’s disarming enough to be disarmed — on principle it should not be occurring — but you also should not be here.

He stands. You present your hand as if practised for the proper convention of having it taken, October-cold gloves soft when his lips press to one and he wonders if the skin beneath is softer, or if callouses mar the mounts of your palm. He lingers as the thought does. (What are you up to now? Are you tried by new labours like he is; your knuckles hard from the work? Would they feel voltaic to touch as they once did?)

“Sit, please.” 

Increments of re-introduction tie him to the tangible instead of unfurling from the knots of why you’re here or how you’re here, which cannot possibly be tethered to reality because for all the hours he’s been with you, none in the last three years have happened awake.

There are the dark shapes on his ceiling again. The scraps won’t last. He’ll need to know the details. 

You’ll want to tell.

You take a seat in the chair he pushes out for you, glass sinking onto the table where the condensation immediately shades a ring into the wood. “This wasn’t where I’d expected to find you, you know.”

“No?” Tom asks, returning to his seat, “I wasn’t expecting you to find me anywhere, so the surprise is mutual.”

“I’d have written to warn you, but it was easier to find the places you frequent than the one you live in — wouldn’t know how to get my owl to you directly, you know — and I’m sure that’s not an accident.”

���I feel strangely as though I’m being accused of something.”

“Mm. Your guilty conscience.”

He smiles reflexively. Old habits. “I’m sure.”

You smile too, at least. “You know, when we left school, I gave it — what — two years before you were the youngest Minister of Magic in British history?”

“Then I’ve disappointed you.”

“No, I think I knew you well enough once to know even now that the fact that you aren’t only means you have something better in mind. I’ll have to trust your judgement, because I can’t imagine what that could possibly be.” You take a sip of your drink, twirling your straw as you do. “Come to think of it, though, brooding over a book in an establishment you patronise enough to have all the workers trained to leave you alone despite not even knowing your name is… very Tom.” 

“That one appears to have done a poor job,” he says with a glance at the barkeep. “You’re over here disrupting me. I think I’ll rescind my tip.”

“Still funny, too.”

“Still indecorous.”

“Still saying things like indecorous. You’d better tip, Riddle.”

“Be good company and I might.”

“Oh, I see. I need to prove that I’m a worthy disruption.”

“I was reading a very good book.”

The book was rubbish. His moleskin has roughly four lines of notes jotted on its open page, which he closes promptly, and hopes it doesn’t seem done with too much gravity. Your eyes like to wander, he recalls. Your hands, absentmindedly, too.

Torturous creature you are.

“I missed you,” you say, like you’ve never had the good sense of holding your tongue, or armouring your heart, or not feeding an animal without first seeing the size of its teeth. 

You are so withholding with your work, and so generous with yourself. He wishes you wouldn’t offer him so much. He’s never had the kindness not to take everything you let him.

“You missed me,” he prompts, already asking for more. 

“I missed disrupting you. No one else lets me — or calls me indecorous, and still lets me.”

“You were quite studious, in case you’ve forgotten. More literate than disruptive.”

You raise a brow. “My, I’ve never had a man call me literate before, and I’ve been courted plenty. I’m swooning.”

(Note: you’ve been courted plenty?)

“Inventive, then? Erudite?”

“Do go on.”

“I shouldn’t. I believe you were describing the manner in which you missed me.”

“It was just the one, unfortunately.”

“Why did you find me?”

This generates pause, at least, and that intrigues him.

Addendum: “Why now?”

“I was around,” you decide on, “and I haven’t been in a long time.”

You wanted to continue your studies after Hogwarts. He thinks he remembers that conversation; academics were the topic of most of your discussions, after all. Anything deeper was incidental, crumbs scraped off a plate at the end of a meal.

“Where did you go?”

You drink again. “Portugal, after school. But that was — it’s a bit of a story. I ended up at an academy in Iceland doing a few very boring, ultimately useless courses on spell creation and wandlore. Will you be horrible if I tell you I’m here because I left in the middle of term? Because then I didn’t tell you.”

“I suppose I knew you well enough once to know even now you wouldn’t have left unless you had something better in mind.”

You beam at him, and he acknowledges briefly that it feels like a reward the same way solving a problem does.

“I found you —” (You are far too generous; the question was already answered and here you are offering more) — “because I considered everyone I wanted to see again and you were the first person I thought of. I don’t like to deny myself the little things.”

“No,” he says, “you don’t.”

Rain trickles down the window, and the cool dark of autumn obscures half of your face. He wishes it didn’t, and that’s bizarre.

“I’ll be doing a course in Occlumency in Norway in the new year.”

Oh?

“I know you were always quite good at Legilimency, so don’t start,” you add hastily.

He itches not to smile. It is truth and not arrogance to say that quite good is an understatement.

“I didn’t know you had an interest.”

You scoff. “Please, everyone has an interest. It’s just hopeless for most of us, and painful to be hopeful to learn something so hopeless.”

“Well-put. A terrible ego punch for you, I’m sure.”

“It was. Until I tried Occlumency and realised I’m quite good at that, and then the wound closed a bit.”

“Glad to hear it. You’re honing the skill?”

“Slowly but surely.”

“And — you’re here seeking a teacher?”

“Oh, stop. I told you why I’m here. But if you’re — oh!” You frown suddenly. “Didn’t you say that you were going to apply for DADA after graduation?”

Ah, that. “Denied, unfortunately.”

“Seriously? On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that I’m too young.”

That and the matter of Albus Dumbledore and the air that is ceaselessly wasted on his breath.

“Oh, please; half the staff are over eighty, I imagine it might be nice to have a professor who doesn’t forget to grade their assignments every other week. You were Head Boy! That’s completely mad.”

“You’ll have to write an owl.”

“I could.” And you sigh, and stir your half-empty drink of what must be less than ten percent alcohol and ninety percent spice and apple. “Would you… would you mind, though? If your schedule isn’t terribly busy?”

“Teaching you?”

“Helping me with something I’m already good at,” you correct, “as an excuse for me not to go back to a very frilly muggle hotel by myself after coming all this way to find you.”

He echoes the part of that sentence that matters least — your invitation is all that counts, but he has no wish to make that obvious when you’ve always done this, always tugged on a string you seem unaware even exists. “Frilly muggle hotel?”

“What? I used to go to them when I was on holiday. Didn’t I tell you that?”

No. He would have clung onto it if you had. He didn’t even know you had the money for things like that after two wars, but then maybe that was something new. How would you have attained it while in school, though? An untimely familial demise? A wealthy suitor? You wore no ring. You came back to him.

Illegible signs for him to attempt to read.

“Well?” you ask, pulling two sickles from your pocket and leaving them on the table.

His answer is yes, naturally. 

It’s absurd you even feel the need to ask; your reunion is long overdue for the small thing it should be, because of the small thing you were, sacred for the dingy place it finds you, and most consequentially, entirely on purpose. You didn’t stumble upon each other in the aisles of a shop after years gone by, pressured into empty conversation for the courtesy of it. You missed him, so you found him — and Tom thinks he’s been missed before, in some vague sense by some people blurred long ago by unimportance, but — found? He reconciles not finding you himself by assuring he will make something of this.

“For a worthy distraction,” he says, putting down two sickles to match.

You grin, and he takes your arm again as you thank the barkeep and depart into the slow drizzle of the street.

You tell him of Ponte de Lima and the rootless craters of Myvatn, of old cathedral spires and covens masked as monasteries. You detail the scenery like you detailed your essays in school, and it makes the ennui of London marginally better — that you are walking it with him, talking about beautiful things, in a night dark enough he might not notice the usual absence of them here.

And then, as you step onto busier streets, you say you missed this too, and he is jealous beyond sense of the architectural blemish of Piccadilly Circus.

He glances away from you and the invisible path to your hotel for the first time since issuing Wizarding London for Muggle.

It’s a crowded tableau. The post-war square is spangled with flashbulb advertisements and buskers and skinny double buses orbiting Eros atop his fountain. People skip from hotel bars and teahouses in trench coats and long skirts. Someone outside the Trocadero looks dressed for burlesque. Storefront letters hiccup light through power abscesses and imminent bursts, and the lights… The lights herald cigarettes and chewing gum and Coca Cola and performances at the theatres on Coventry Street. 

You light up with them, sunlight parallel pseudostars. Tom feels half-blinded. He isn’t sure by which.

“You missed London?” he asks. It’s hard to hide in his tone how much he cannot imagine a reason why. All of the things you described in your travels sound better than this.

“I missed home.”

He possesses only a theoretical understanding of what that must feel like. The word itself is a thing long gone. There was Hogwarts, but it was never his.

“Well — I miss this,” you amend, “which I never remembered being like this, and maybe it wasn’t. All I saw in anything growing up was shelter. I’d look at buildings and imagine which ones could survive bombs, and which ones would shatter under gunfire. Since coming back, I’ve liked seeing it a different way. The lights, the people — The Criterion; they’ve a section called the Witches Cauldron, which is very risqué. You would hate it.”

His mouth twitches at the corners. “Risqué?"

“Mhm. Women with skirts over the thighs, men with skirts over the thighs, music with questionable lyrics, and really, borderline indecent comedy. But I think that's the heart of muggle theatre — the good kind, anyway."

“So I was right in calling you indecorous.”

“Hardly. I’m an observer.”

“Upstanding, then.”

You tug playfully at his sleeve. “Saintly.”

“You might revisit those churches in Portugal.”

“And you might learn to let something go. We’re here.”

He looks up at the little dais of steps before the big arch of your hotel door, stones cracked here and there, cigarette stubs smushed at his feet, and back at you, an inviting smile on your face.

“Come on.” You take his arm again and guide him in.

The lobby is all dark wood carved like lace. Fretwork in the moulding, fretwork at the counters, fretwork in the thick columns bolstering the mezzanine; and there, tables with seats turned to face the sound of music, the dulcet flicker of candlelight over plates of food that smell sweet for the hour. As you lead him up the stairs, he gives you a look that warns this was not what he was promised, but you shush him and he abides.

You are lucky for his intrigue. You are lucky for the dullness of his teeth at the maw of his hunger. He doesn’t pretend to understand — he thinks he likes not understanding.

The music gets louder. He can see the entire mezzanine from the top of the stairs; a woman is singing, a man is playing saxophone, the tables are set for dessert, and the plates are almost all licked clean.

You’re watching with the flicker of candles caught in your eyes now, grip imperceptibly tighter on his arm as you lean in to whisper. “There’s something new every night. Yesterday there was the most beautiful pianist. And they served this lemon pudding  — tonight I think it’s… torte? It’s chocolate, at least. It smells amazing.”

“Did you want to stay?”

He did not. It was a courtesy question.

“Just for a song?” you ask, rather more sheepish than suits you.

Just for a song, then.

You press against his shoulder. You’re warm, despite the cold walk.

“Do you ever practise on them?" he asks.

“Legilimency?” You shake your head. “I usually refrain from digging into the thoughts of innocent muggles.”

He raises a brow. “And the bad muggles?"

“I should like to do worse to the bad muggles."

He smiles. You smile too, though you resist it for a moment. “You're as wretched as you were in school."

“Wretched, was I? And what would I have found, if I'd sought out your thoughts back then?"

You laugh, face canted toward the performance. “Thoughts of Os on every O.W.L, what Slughorn meant by a semi-formal dress code, how to get into the kitchens at night..." You turn to him again. “And you? Do I dare ask what I would have found in yours?"

“Hm. Secrets.”

“Damn you.”

The saxophone swells before the last note fizzles out, the contralto timbre of the woman’s voice washed out by a small round of applause. You clap with the other guests, glance over at Tom, frown, take his hands and force them together. He doesn’t resist, but he certainly doesn’t aid the motion. His hands are instead idly patted together, palms hitting the sleeves of his coat and making for a very poor ovation. 

You give up without much effort, fingers looping beneath one of his cuffs to lead him back to the staircase. 

“Wretched,” you repeat.

You search your coat pocket for your key as you walk up the stairs, remarking the artwork on the walls and evidence of a drunk muggle man who spilled champagne on his way to bed last night — you tell him to watch his step, and he averts the side of the stairs where dark spots pepper the carpet. The place is fine elsewise. You mentioned the risqué of The Criterion and he can see notes of it here, in the late night music and the drinking and a few ogling men among the guests, but it’s nicer on the inside than he’d assumed by the exterior, and you can certainly handle yourself amongst debauchees without wands.

Tom stops when you do. Your room is the furthest at the end of the third floor corridor.

“Welcome,” you say, as the key clicks and the door swings open.

A frilly muggle hotel indeed. You flick a switch and the chandelier ignites, dim but extravagant. You go to light a few additional candles at the dresser and windowsill, clipping floral drapes aside as you do. The bed, a queen, matches the fabric of the drapes, with a thick lace skirt and golden brass rails. There’s a small table and two chairs, plush with cushions that loop through the spine and knot like hair ribbons. You tuck your wand away after the room has been brightened and fix him with a look that says, I told you.

“It’s clean,” is all the opinion he offers.

“Hard to make a mess in two days.”

A rather uncharacteristic thought crosses him. He can imagine ways which would not be so difficult.

“Of course.”

“Did you want anything? I could call for room service. Wine? Chocolate torte?”

“I’m more curious to observe your Occlumency firsthand.”

“Right. I’ve been depriving you.” You sit on the edge of the bed and slip off your coat. “I meant what I said, though; I’m good at it.”

“A battle of wills, then.” And he pulls a chair from the little table by the window, sitting it across from you.

You make a face. “This is why I studied with you and never challenged you to anything.”

“Perhaps you should have.”

“Perhaps… I might have saved myself from the predicament I’m in now.”

“You brought me here.”

“I did.”

“You enjoy the predicament,” he guesses.

You smile. “I do.”

He leans in with his arms at the wooden rests of his chair, fixed on the space between your eyes and then the apples of your cheeks, looking for new scars or freckles or stray eyelashes to cast wishes on. Mostly he wonders what’s underneath. That you have presented him the opportunity, even to wonder, feels almost like a wish granted. And Tom is not the sort of man to make them.

But here you are, and the room is quiet, and your gloves sound soft rolling off your fingers, and he should take a chance on one now. He should be greedy. He should want for more.

“Shall I count to three?”

He does. He does want more.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you say, and he can see you steel yourself before his soft surge into your mind.

Your resistance is like a cliffside. His effort is a wave, lapping at the rocks, seeking erosion. It’ll come. It never hasn’t.

You stay there in the cracks between the rocks, not pushing against him as much as shielding yourself from him. He leans an inch further from his chair and inclines his head. Your mouth falls open, breath caught on the sharp edge of his next intrusion. He eases forward but you only hold stronger. An impasse is reached — immovable object and unstoppable force.

Tom’s mouth curves at the corners, patient, persistent and proud. The chase is half of it. Your capability is the other.

“How did you discover your gift?" he asks.

“Don't distract me," you answer, and the softness tells him it’s an exertion for you to speak through this.

Tom nods, though distraction suddenly seems a tempting venture. If he pushes otherwise it will be painful.

For a while he just searches — between the old moss atop the cliff, the space where water strikes and memories propagate in verdant clusters, little runnels in the stone to keep little thoughts. He can see the outlines of those moments you’d described to him on your walk, but nothing deeper, nothing untouched. The abacus on either side of a Portuguese church but no hint of the nave or the apse. The flat horizon of Myvatn lake but none of the pseudocraters.

And still the walls stand, and the wave trickles through the runnels only to feed the moss.

You’re good. He wants to break you. He wants to be gentle. He wants to know if there is a way to do both.

Yes, he thinks there is.

Tom inches his chair closer. There’s perhaps an arm's length between your knees and his, and your expression flickers as you glance at the way it shrinks. A forearm, now. A ruler. Nothing at all, if you look long enough, think about how easy it would be for the space to vanish altogether. And he is thinking about it.

Your eyes dart back to his and he glides through the first crevice of your confusion he can find. A second’s glimpse is all he gets — words on an image of the skin unclad at his wrists, like words on the storefronts of Piccadilly Circus, they spell his name. There’s the cadence of a question. He resists the urge to sink back in his seat in honest pride; that the first thought he’s carved out of you is of his hands and sudden curiosity.

Perfectly innocuous, he rolls his sleeves to his elbows. There’s a quick twitch at your mouth.

“Do you know,” he says, searching again, “there’s something in particular I want to find.”

You indulge him carefully. You must anticipate a trick. “What’s that?”

“The moment you first missed me.”

It is a hard thing to be reminded of a moment and not draw it immediately to the surface. He can see on your face that you have to push the misbehaved thing down with force. But that’s only evidence that it exists, that it’s true, and he must see it like it’s his own. 

Is your missing him not his, in some way? Is his missing you not yours?

“I wonder if you missed me over quill and parchment,” he says, “in old libraries, at a café in Paris… Did you remember me by certain colours? By times of day? Or was it —”

There.

It’s the Athenaeum of Madrid, under the ceiling of the assembly hall. You’re craning your neck to admire the art, and you’re thinking how much he would have liked a place like that.

And then he’s back in the frilly hotel, and your face is in something like a gasp. You’ve swallowed it down, batted him away, but he can see it even from the outside; the curiosity is still there despite. The question unposed but sitting neatly on your tongue ready to be asked.

Tom smiles. “I didn’t know you went to Spain.”

“Well, I thought I might leave something for you to learn instead of be told.”

“Ah, so you let me in?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Will you?”

You glance involuntarily at the gap between you. Has it shrunk again? He can note the details of the face he’s missed without trying.

“Will you let me in?” he murmurs.

“I don’t think they teach this method of distraction at school,” you say softly, and now the words have been put in the air.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shifts his chair ever closer. His eyes go to your lips. And he does mean to look away but your mouth quirks the slightest degree upward and he stays there a moment because he was expecting something else.

“Didn’t I tell you I’ve been courted before?”

“Plenty,” he recounts.

You lean in. Your knees brush his. You incline your head so your eyes find the path of his, the smile on your face finally full. It’s an error of time that he doesn’t expect it because it must not be an error on his part. “Then you should know to make a greater effort.”

You hold a hand to his cheek, watching the motion as your warm fingers trail from jaw to white collar. And then you pull back; a breeze in the place you sat when you get up. 

“That’s enough for today, don’t you think?”

He recovers quickly, but there’s a lingering heat at his jaw and a curiosity he was faulted to have planted himself — he’s suffering the barest satiation for the million more questions he has. But you missed him, and you invited him here, and you wanted to see him in your mind, so he must wonder if you meant to plant some curiosity too.

“And tomorrow?” he finally asks.

There’s rummaging in one of the cupboards, the twist of cap from its tube, and the quick rush of the faucet before your face peers out from the bathroom’s thick archway, still with that smile.

You flick the light on and brush your teeth like he isn’t there. For whatever reason it’s the most disarming thing you may have ever done, and it reminds him that he had considered you torturous like it was something incidental, which means he’d begun the night with only one equation still able to stump him, and ended it with two.

He could sooner solve alchemy (the entire subject) than this.

“I’ll be out,” you say when you’re done, “but you’re welcome to join me.”

“And what might I be joining you in?”

“Tourism.”

“Tourism?” He inches out of his chair, rolling his sleeves back down.

You lean against the bathroom archway and the candlelight makes a sculpture of you. Your silhouette is a blaze tenderly burning the dark.

“It only feels right after years of doing it in other places, don’t you think? Every street I discover something I didn’t notice before.”

Tom looks at the toothbrush fitted in your hand like an unlit cigarette and imagines putting it back like he’d stomp one out, kissing you and tasting apple and cinnamon and mint stuck on the corner of your pretty mouth.

“Well? Is it below you?”

“Yes. What time?”

“Eleven,” you say, and your breath hitches beautifully at your bare collar when he glides into the archway beside you. “Is that all right?”

He brushes the dab of toothpaste away from your lip. “It’s perfect.” 

Your eyes flit down his face, and now it’s him smiling.

He places a kiss on the back of your hand, looking up at you through dark lashes and a smirk as he mutters your name, a soft remembrance, a rekindled wanting. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Tom.”

The noise outside his flat that night is trivial. He has not for a long time sat awake at night watching the sky instead of the shapes on his ceiling. He has not for a long time thought of you with the tranquil knowledge that he will see you again.

[jksprincess10]

Big man, little dignity

Summary: Joel saves your hopeless ass and he gets stuck with you for a while, but it doesn't seem to bother him.

TW: attempted rape, violence, age gap (yn is legal)

Tags: y/n is hella dumb, one bed trope, daddy kink, smut with plot, some fluff and petnames 

It was dark and you were dumb enough to go outside because you couldn’t sleep. You thought this city was safe enough. A community of squatters that got together after The Day. So you left your decrepit apartment where you lived alone and you walked under the stars, knife on hand just in case. You were still mindful of the fact that you were a woman, and the new world liked to remind you even more.

The area was cleared out of clickers and runners regularly by volunteers. You were useless in fights, but you were grateful of all the people who wanted to protect each other. You preferred staying behind and taking care of the gardens.

You wandered in the community gardens, passing a dark alleyway, when suddenly, you heard a noise. Like someone approaching slowly, mindfully but somehow still fucking up. You turned around, but it was hard to see anything in the darkness of the night. Soon enough, you felt strong arms grabbing you and pulling you in the closest alleyway. You dropped your knife on the way.

 “Get the fuck away from me.” You tried to sound menacing, but your voice was so low and so, so useless.

 He pushed you against the brick wall, facing away so you didn’t see who were attacking you. He was trying to take off your clothes. You cried silently, awaiting the moment where you were once again violated just for existing in a girl’s body.

 Without warning, the sound of a gun tore up the night sky. Then, a loud thump. Then, no more pressure on your hands. You were free and there was blood everywhere. You turned around and you were faced with another man. You felt the urge to run away, but he dropped his gun and put his hands up in the air.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” And you wanted badly to believe him.

He had a raspy voice and a thick American accent. You wiped your tears away, eyes still red and hands shaking. You slowly went towards him to see if you knew you savior. You didn’t.

He was almost 6 foot tall, in his late forties. Salt and pepper hair, patchy beard and a mustache that belonged in the 80s, tired but soft eyes.

“T-Thank you…” You finally managed to articulate.

He just nodded, then said. “You should sleep somewhere else tonight. I think they followed you.” But you had nowhere else to be, no one to go home to.

You had been so fucking reckless. So fucking stupid. And the time you get caught finally arrived.

You weren’t moving, except your shaky legs and hands.

“Here, come with me.”

He seemed especially awkward about it, like he hasn’t been much in contact with humans he didn’t kill. You nodded, then followed him. The road to the building he wanted to take you to wasn’t usually that long, but he did a few detours to outwit the people that wanted you dead or worse, enslaved.

Under his boots, the stairs creaked. The building was mostly abandoned, and he brought you to a door, which he locked behind him. He lit a few candles that made his tan skin look even tanner. He probably was outside a lot. You looked around to see a place that was as “charming” as where you lived.

Awkwardly, he gestured to the destroyed couch, where you sat, while he stayed up in the corner, analyzing your trembling movements.

“I can boil some water, do you want some tea or anything ?”

You nodded and he disappeared in the kitchen, coming back with only one fuming cup. Even a warm drink in this time was a luxury, so you were thankful.

 You looked like a scared little girl, hands gripping the cup like you were gripping on life.

 “What’s your name?”

 You told him. You had no reason to lie to him. He saved your ass back there.

“I’m Joel, nice to meet you. How old are you ? Young girls like you shouldn’t be outside at that time… it’s dangerous. Bunch of creeps.”

Well that felt… patronizing. He was probably a dad before all of this, so you couldn’t blame him. He looked like a dad. But you knew your short hair, big doe eyes and round face made you look like a teen when you were closer to 30 than 18.

“I’m 26. Not that young and helpless.”

That’s it, you slowly got your personality back. You could’ve sworn you saw a smile tug the corner of his chapped lips.

“So, what the fuck where you doing outside ?”

“Taking a walk. Couldn’t sleep with my dumb anxiety. And you?”

He seemed to understand. You sipped your tea, warm beverage going down your throat and warming up your body.

“Doing a delivery. I got… stuff for that if you need. Contraband. Will make you sleep through the night with no problem.”

A Ziplock bag appeared in his callused hands with a few white pills in it.

“What if you want to drug me?”

Your fear was legitimate.

“I’ll take one before and you’ll see it’s harmless.”

“Deal.”

So, he did, and you waited in silence. You looked at your clothes once you were done dissociating. They were covered in blood and having them still on made you feel dirty.

“I’ve got extra clothes if you need.”

“Do I wanna look like a middle-aged dad? Sure.”

A silent laugh escaped his throat. He got up to get you clean clothes: men’s shirt and loose joggers in which you would probably float. He pointed you to the bathroom, where you silently went. The mirror was half broken, drugs, alcool and various sketchy bottles covered the counter that was falling apart. In what’s left of the mirror, you could see your red eyes and trembling lips. You decided to look away and got changed. The joggers were hanging on by a thread on your boney hips.

“Do you live alone?” You asked as you went back to what was left of a living room.

“Yeah. You’re safe here. And I didn’t die yet, so take a pill and rest.”

He left you the only mattress in the apartment and he slept on his couch. The white pill slowly rocked both of you guys to sleep. It numbed your brain enough so you didn’t have to relive the last hours.

The next days followed almost the same routine. Joel seemed determined to keep you under his wings. You didn’t leave and he didn’t ask you to, even if his back hurt him because of his long nights on the destroyed couch. Soon enough, he brought you on odd jobs with him, but he discovered fast enough that you didn’t know how to shoot a gun to save your life. So, he taught you.

You were in an empty field, not a human or a runner in the horizon. He had put up some kind of homemade targets for you to shoot.

“How did you live for so long if you didn’t know how to fight, lady?”

“I took care of plants and stayed inside. You’re welcome for the food I’m growing, by the way.”

He laughed silently, like he always did. You never heard his actual laugh.

“Let’s get back to teaching you some things, sweetheart.”

It was the first time he gave you a pet name. You tried to ignore the jumping sensation in your heart and your flushed cheeks when he said it. Thankfully, his body was behind yours and he couldn’t see your face.

“Is it okay if I come closer and touch you to help?”

“Y-yeah, go ahead.” You liked that he cared enough to ask.

You felt his torso come closer to your back and his big hands grabbing yours so he could direct the gun correctly. His body was so warm against yours, his hands so rough. You tried to distract your mind with something, anything else.

“So you hold like this, and pull the trigger like this…”

He made you shoot and you jump a little at the loud sound, only getting closer to him.

“…And then here you can reload. Here, try for yourself.” He dropped his arms to his sides.

You did what he told you to do and managed to shoot the target. It wasn’t perfectly in the middle of the red circle, but it was a start.

After training for what seemed like hours, you went to the garden you cultivated to grab some food and put them in your bag, so you didn’t attract any unwanted attention.

“Hm, we should also get you a new mattress.”

“So you’re not going to leave?”

You smirked.

“Not until you tell me to.”

You were bad news. He felt like he was getting attached and losing you would break his heart.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get one.”

But they never did.

On a colder night, his warm body joined yours on the mattress. You felt strong arms pulling you closer against his chest and a breath got caught in your throat.

“Is this okay?” He murmured against your ear, sending shivers down your whole body.

“Y-Yes.” You sounded more breathless than you wanted to.

You turned around so you faced him, body still nestled in his strong arms.

“Look, I don’t want to be creepy or anything… I know I’m much older than you. Say the word and I’ll leave.”

“Joel, stop. You’re not creeping me out. I… like this. ”

His tense shoulders seemed relieved for an instant. Without thinking more about the complicated situation that would await you two broken humans, you pressed your lips against his. First, slowly, almost timidly, before fully tasting him. He had an aftertaste of coffee and whiskey, which you did not mind. You felt his palms cup your cheeks and his weight shift unto yours. You sunk into the mattress under his weight.

“Can we keep going?” He asked as you parted ways, breathless.

“Yes daddy.”

You said it without thinking, but he didn’t seem to mind, the lust in his warm eyes actually showed you how much he liked it. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, like the fire lit in your lower abdomen.

His lips smashed against yours once more, this time, rougher. His fingers hastily took off most of your clothes except your panties, leaving you vulnerable in the chilly air. You were suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. You had lost so much weight since the apocalypse; you were almost skin and bones. You hated this body that was given to you. It wasn’t healthy. Your boobs were always small, and you hated wearing bras, so they kind of had a mind of their own.

“So pretty, my sweet girl.”

He managed to reassure you a little bit.

“Take off your damn clothes.” You responded.

Your delicate fingers undid his green shirt, revealing soft trails of black hair leading to the mystery that was hidden under his pants.

“Sorry, I’m old and probably not as fit as –”

You cut him off with a kiss. “Stop, you’re so hot, my daddy.” You whispered against his lips.

He groaned and undid hastily his belt and soon, he was free of any fabric. He held his erection in his hand and gave it a few pumps.

“Please, let me…”

You shifted your weight on him, pinning him on the mattress. Your soft lips grazed his chest, following every scar and every crease. Finally, you put your prey against your lips, before taking him in. He groaned instantly.

“My sweet, sweet girl…”

You bobbed your head slowly, sucking in your cheeks so he could feel every surface of your wet mouth. His hand reached your neck and pressed, making you see stars. You sunk your lips deeper on his cock, almost choking on his length.

“Take your time, baby girl.”

And you did for a few seconds, before he pulled you away. You almost protested, but he grabbed your ass and pulled you on his face. He pressed you hard against his lips and his hands on your hips prevented you from moving away.

“W-Wait…”

Your cunt sat on his nose for a few seconds and the sensation of it already made you moan loudly. He licked up a stripe and teased your clit with his tongue. His beard felt rough on your thighs and would probably leave burn marks there. It seemed like he had done this so many times and it left you whimpering and helpless on top of him. Your hands pressed against the tapestry.

“F-Fuck, Joel…”

He sucked on your clit, harder, until you cried his name before your release. You came, hard. You moved away from his face, legs shaking, and saw his lips glistening with your juices.

“Will you let me fuck you now, sweet girl?”

His lips pressed against your chin, before touching yours. You nodded enthusiastically.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, yes please.”

His hands took their reserved place on your hips, guiding you over his erected length. He guided you as you slowly went down on him, slowly stretching your hole to fit him. Then, you didn’t have to do any more work. He pressed your body against hist chest and started thrusting your hips against yours. It was messy, dirty, even, but it was the first time you felt safe with a man in the same bed.

“Y-You’re so tight for me, sweet girl.”

His warm lips traced an invisible path on your neck as you moaned softly in his ears. His thrusts got rougher, and rougher, until you felt his release. His warm liquid filled your insides.

Your body dropped beside his, limbs weak.

“Fuck the new mattress.”

“Fuck the new mattress.” You agreed.

[kpophubb]

♥︎ нєєѕєυηց'ѕ вσуƒяιєηԃ нαвιтѕ ♡

❥ Hot and cute things lee heeseung does as your bf !

♥︎🄶🄴🄽🅁🄴: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗁𝖼 ᰔ !w:mentions of making out! // 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘦. 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪'𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺." ♡

✼••┈┈┈┈••✼♡✼••┈┈┈┈••✼♥︎✼••┈┈┈┈••✼

☆ 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗛𝗨𝗚𝗦- heeseung loves to feel you pressed closely to him. His large frame engulfing your tiny one, his arms draped around your torso and his chin resting on your shoulder in a protective and safe hug. Once he buries you in his embrace, he’s quite reluctant to let you go..; quietly surrendering himself to the beating of your heart against his chest and the blissful harmony of your mutual breaths colliding. He wishes everytime so time would stop, and he could be holding his beloved you like this forever. :’)

☆ 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗚𝗨𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨- if you’re his girl, you’re definitely up for his personal midnight concerts and acoustic live covers of beautiful love songs. His raw vocals and angel voice penetrating deep inside your heart, unraveling your deepest chambers bit by bit and his artsy fingers playing the chords of his guitar, the sweet melody accompanying his sweet voice to produce a magical masterpiece.

☆ 𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣- heeseung loves to sing you to sleep. As your head is rested on his chest, he would brush soft pats along your back and sing you romantic songs, kissing the top of your head every now and then in between. If you’re sitting infront of him, he would make sure to gaze lovingly into your eyes directly, holding and playing with your hands, brushing his thumb with the back of it as he hits the most beautiful notes with his honey voice. He would always end the song sessions with “I love yous” and silly (but shy) confessions, and you’d be both laughing like dumb little dorks inside eachother’s arms everytime he has occasional voice cracks from being distracted by your captivating beauty.

☆ 𝗚𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗕𝗬𝗘 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦- goodbye kisses are a must or else don’t be surprised to see a grown up 21 year old man pouting displeasing against your door frame, making at you the biggest bambi eyes asking for a kissy. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 it’s only when you give him a kiss on the cheek that he smiles and agrees to leave for work, but he’s the cheek kiss will never really ends there, for your romantic boyfriend would tug you by your waist and pull you in for a cheesy kiss on the lips as well. 😳

☆ 𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗦- heeseung is a total romantic. A hopeless romantic, who believes in buying flowers, leaving love notes and making grand gestures like kissing under the stars as significant. Thus, your doorbell ringing in random hours of the day, to opening them to a big giggling hee with a bouquet of flowers covering his rose is the very normal thing in your daily life. T-T <3 and every damn time, there’s a small handwritten note attached somewhere in the bouquet, and hints of chocolates accompanying the flowers on your rough days to cheer you up and make you smile.

☆ 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬 𝗬𝗢𝗨- hee is a total baby inside closed doors. He needs a lot of love and care, and smiles like a child when you bask him in your affection. Feeding him, cooking ramen for him, kissing his forehead, ruffling his fluffy hair and complimenting him a lot gets him mewling and curling into your lap like a happy little kitten. 🥺

☆ 𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗧 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧- isn’t this giving signature heeseung vibes? Cause this is how most of your nights are spent. Lots of laughter and midnight snacks, cuddling and messy kisses and at the end him bowing down whilst holding back his laughter like a gentleman and placing his hand out towards you to take it for a dance. He’s gonna rest his one hand softly at your waist and intertwine your fingers with the other, pulling you closer to him until his scent is infused inside your lungs like burning coal. Then, you both sway your bodies to the soft rhythm and lose yourself in eachother’s eyes while heartwarming and promising smiles creep up to your faces. Ofcourse, there might be some moments where your goofy boyfriend steps on your feet (accidentally) and ruins the moment by laughing out loud. <3

☆ 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗦- his love language is sending you playlists. He’s got assorted playlists for every kind of mood- for rainy days, for happy days, for sad days where you need to be loved harder, for car rides, for dinner dates and what not? Will send you Spotify links all day and be so ecstatic if you comment on his song choice and send him songs and lyrics in turn! 😍 sing along with him, and you’re his girl for LIFE!!

☆ 𝗚𝗟𝗨𝗘-𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗧-he has his hands glued to your waist all the time. Especially because it is so comforting to rest his chin on your shoulder and wrap himself to you tightly. Expect him to always steal kisses from you, and kiss your cheeks and neck so fondly whenever he’s doing so. Too often, the innocent kissing, turns to something far more steamy, his wet soft lips sending shivers down your spine as they linger on your skin much longer than needed.

☆ 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗞 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦- your cheeks are his favourite cushions to kiss. He loves to press his lips into your soft skin, and even just mushes them and fondles them out of care and laughs at you when it makes you unintentionally pout and you frown at his giggle. Cheek kisses are his go to form of kisses, signature kisses that he’s always giving you before going out or right after coming home. However, when you’re the one giving him a kiss on his cheek, he’s as bright as a tomato, blushing and being dorky like a teenager experiencing love for the first time.

☆ 𝗠𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦- heeseung’s a messy kisser. Kissing you so deeply and passionately while pressing you to whatever surface is behind, one second having his fingers in your hair and the other, his hands running up and down your hips. He makes you tiptoe to reach him and the next second, he’s lifted you up with your legs draped around his waist, carrying you to the bed. When his kisses are steamy, you can feel his hands hover over your chest, cupping them and his tongue darting inside your mouth, venturing for his sweet dominance that leaves you breathless and gasping for air.

☆ 𝗣𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗥𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗦- being heeseung’s girl means getting the vip princess treatment. Hence, expect him to give you piggy back rides on his back, and being extra goofy at times, running around and pretending to drop you. But the cutest part is ofc how he carries you on his back especially after your night dates, as you ruffle his hair from fondness and he mumbles your favourite songs all the way back home. :’)

☆ 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛 𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗢𝗢𝗙𝗬- to make you laugh, he’d do anything always. From wearing weird head bands and sunglasses to doing silly little dances and expressions that make no sense, he’s always doing it all just for the sweet melody of your laughter that reverberates throughout his entire body and makes him feel so Damn complete.

☆ 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗜𝗧 𝗢𝗡 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗟𝗔𝗣- it’s almost an involuntary action, the way he pulls your wrists and situates you on his lap, draping his arms around your stomach, and making you face him so he can land a soft kiss on your chin. Whether it’s intimate or soft, you know he is always pulling you on his lap, stroking your hips with his hands and exploring your mouth- so wet and deep with his artsy mouth.💋🫦

☆ 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥- man’s always so proud of you and so soft for you, ngl. He loves stroking your hand in easing, loving motions and patting your head to show his affection for you and silently deliver the message how proud he is of you. Gently caressing the top of your head with his palms and delicate fingers, occasionally even leaving a doting kiss on your forehead from time to time.

☆ 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗧- he’s your #1 simp. The kind of simp who cheers you on so loudly, but immediately gets shy afterwards lol. But still a simp right? He loves to call you his angel, his beautiful girl and looks at you with potential big bambi heart eyes. When you dress up for him, he sides your hair and plants a kiss on your shoulder, fondly gazing at your reflection in the mirror and calling you the most beautiful woman alive before giving you the most heart warming smile ever.

☆ 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗧𝗢 𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗦- hee loves enhypen and thinks of them as his own family 🥺 so if you blend with them and think of them as your family too, you are easily the trump card holder to his heart! >.< there’s nothing purer to him than watching y’all bunched up in the living room, telling jokes and playing games, eating together and behaving like the best of friends! They love you and care for you so much, and so do you in return. {You get Bonus points: if you’re already an engene ;) <3}

☆ 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚- do I even need to elaborate?? Hee’s obsessed with g a m i n g. And if you’re someone who’s good at it or knows about it, he’s gonna literally see you with a different light and might even poke your back trying to find out your hidden wings cause to him, you’re the “angel of his dreams” lmao. Even if you can’t play games, he’s gonna make you sit in between his legs so cozily on his gaming chair, and blabber all about the different levels and how to play. He’s so cute when he’s invested in it that you can’t help but give in anyway.

☆ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗦 𝗧𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥- heeseung loves cupping your face and pressing your foreheads together, closing your eyes, bonking your noses with eachother’s, mumbling soft I love yous against your lips, stroking them in feather light motions with his. He often does this with you while cuddling the most, that leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

☆ 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗖 𝗘𝗬𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦- eye contacts are his prime love language!! 100% gives you the most affectionate and loving doey eyes ever. Even when he’s sitting across the room for you or glancing at you from a distance, he’s holding eye contact with you and pouting his lips to blow a kiss. (And he soon laughs afterwards bc he’s just so weird in love😭) lee heeseung has a doting habit of losing himself in your beautiful, starry eyes with no idea of getting his way back. He’s just so so in love with you.

☆ 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗡- the feel of your soft, supple skin feels like heaven close to his lips. 💋😳 hence, he’s always looking for a chance to sneak his hands inside your clothes, touching your bare waist and playing with the hem of your under garments. He loves massaging your skin too, your exposed shoulders with ofcourse not his hands, but his feathery soft plush lips.

☆ 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗧𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗬 - tummy pats = happy babie hee!!>.< I swear he just goes into baby mode everytime he’s stroking your cute little tummy!! Your tummy is his c u s h i o n, he’s always mushing his face and nose with your stomach, making you tickle tickle and even falling asleep like that. He loves to roll his head on your stomach too, the way you laugh and twitch when his hair tickles your sensitive skin haha. All in all, he’s just the cutest baby ever for you!!!!! <33

☆ 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗨𝗚𝗦 & 𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦- his back hugs are intimate. Intimate in both a pure and hot way. The way he comes and drapes himself around your body from the back, pressing his heart beat towards your back and places his chin on your shoulder like fitting two pieces of a same puzzle together and finally having a beautiful, complete picture. He begins trailing butterfly kisses on your shoulder, bit by bit the feathery motions becoming deep with wet and hasty kisses plunging into your shoulders to your collarbones upto your neck. He loves sucking hickeys on your sensitive flesh and withdraws momentarily to trace the area with his nose, making you whimper and whine for more of his needy kisses.

☆ 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥- making out in the shower, with the feel of the hot water on your skin and the feel of your hot, wet tongues intertwined with eachother as your hasty breaths collide and make the shower panel bleary. There’s nothing sexier than that to the both of you, the sound of your muffled moans cancelling out by the sound of the shower tap, his fingers and hands running over your silky, naked body. His mouth never only leaves your mouth fed, but makes sure to explore in every other sweet areas of your skin, making you tremble and lose your footing from how good he makes you feel. Like he gives you a fulfilling taste like you’re floating in heaven at the same time the taste of temptation that burns you as intensely as hellfire.

☆ 𝗣𝗢𝗢𝗥 𝗣𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗨𝗣 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦- pls don’t even get me started on this one.. If you get texts like “are you wifi? Cause I’m totally feeling a connection” or “you know what’s on the menu? Me-N-U” randomly throughout the day, no you don’t have to take your boyfriend to a therapist, it’s just the way he is. T-T he’s low-key so proud and thinks of himself as funny, making proud smug faces and expecting you to reply. Even tho the lines are so bad, his expectant face is so cute that you type out a reply, cringing out and wheezing at the same time.

☆ 𝗞𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦- hee is a passionate vocalist and we all know how energetic he gets when he’s doing karaoke!! He’s gonna insist to take you for karaoke after your lunch dates, and tho it initially starts off as sweet serenading, soon enough, he will begin singing off pitch and loudly, embarrassing himself and being his questionable self, all to make you laugh and wheeze like he so adores seeing.

☆ 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗘𝗦- this is a must!!! Matching nike shoes oh pls! He’s gonna love to put your small feet in between his ones, gently tapping your shoes and teasing yours for being so tiny! But he finds it so cozy and will love to plan outfits together with the same shoes, and even take the Pinterest type couple shoe pictures!!🥺

☆ 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗦- midnight is his favourite date time. The world is so quiet, the night is so cozy and the city lights are so aesthetic and appealing. He loves making you wear his oversized jackets, and holds your hands, tucking your intertwined hands in his pocket and just walking in the empty streets while exchanging glances of blissful silence and heartfelt love. <3 y’all would take many blurry couple pictures (bc that’s his style) and kiss on the riverside, confessing I love yous and giggling together when you hear their echoes back.

☆ 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗖 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗣𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗦- he loves taking aesthetic pictures with you! The couple pictures we all envy and swoon over, making hearts together, hugging pictures without faces, forehead kiss pictures, piggy back pictures and what not! You are going to have a whole personalised album of your loving moments stored on his phone, and he’s gonna set some as his lockscreen and home screen as well! Proudly shows them off to his members too, but gets all chuckly and blushy when they tease their hyung for being so evidently lovesick. 🤭😳

☆ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗘𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗜𝗡 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗭𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗦- to heeseung, you look the most beautiful when you’re in his oversized shirts, hair up in a messy bun, bare face and just rolling on the bed or working in the kitchen. He’s gonna purposely request you all the time to keep wearing his clothes and you do so gladly, loving the feel of the soft material on your skin and scent on him lingering all over your body when you wear them, making you feel like home.

☆ 𝗖𝗨𝗗𝗗𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗖𝗛- couch> bed for hee! Cause basically everytime you’re lying on the living room couch to watch tv or work on your assignments, clingy hee always shows up from nowhere and dashes to squeeze you! He lies on top of you, squishing you with his weight and just behaving like a big 21 year old koala. He thinks cuddling is the best therapy in the world and really, hee cuddles makes you forget all your stress and gives you comfort and joy, like a fresh dose of pure serotonin!

☆ 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗗 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦- once he starts kissing, he just can’t stop kissing you. You taste so sugary to him, the feeling of your soft lips and the warmth from your rushed breaths- the combination that makes his head dizzy and needy like a mad man starving for ages. He kisses you like he’s a dying man and you’re his last source of oxygen, pulling you towards him till your bodies are pressed together and the heat from your body slips inside his and makes him feel hot inside. He can kiss you for hours and hours with no end, usually continuing throughout the whole night that only cease at the creak of dawn, when he falls asleep with his lips still brushed against yours. Move an inch, and there he is whining in his sleep at the loss of contact while being still fast asleep.

☆ 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗦𝗢𝗙𝗧𝗟𝗬- another very lee heeseung type love language! He just loves how soft and pretty your face is, and he HAS to scan every nook and cranny of your face tenderly with his artsy fingers. Tapping his fingers over your eyelids, over your cheeks and nose, Cupid bow, lips and jaw. Gets so fascinated by you as if he’s seeing a human being for the first time, and looks at you with starry eyes that glisten with endless awe. (Yeah yeah, proceeds to attack you with kisses soon after) ❤️❤️

✼••┈┈┈┈••✼♡✼••┈┈┈┈••✼♥︎✼••┈┈┈┈••✼

🄰/🄽: this fic is very special, dedicated for our lovely @hee-pster ♡ jan, I hope this little fic brings you comfort, joy and makes you feel warm and loved. I love you so much.

Tagging: @csmicbot (sorry I made you wait so long for this) @cloudcutter @yjjungwon @ingkai

𝕻𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝕽𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 & 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖘 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖊𝖓𝖏𝖔𝖞! :) <3

[2smolbeans]

Yandere CEO dilf x Childhood Friend Employee x Yandere Buisness Partner Reader (AU)

You want what he wants, but he doesn't want to share.

Based on my yandere CEO & COO story

Tags: Reader is protrayed as a flirty yandere, stalking, mentions of previous murder victims, rivalry, pettiness, the man ABSOLUTELY despises you, implied daddy issues, stalker stalking another stalker, mentions of a dead partner/wife, delusional thinking, thoughts of marriage/making the 'perfect' family.

Note: This is mostly just me writing scenarios/hypotheticals for my ocs-

Just wanted to make that clear! ^^

______________________

Hyun was young and dumb in his 20s and slept around too much. His friends would warn him to calm down, to settle down, or to at least take a break from the multiple fuck buddies. He didn't listen, and still continued to sleep around like the playboy he was. Eventually, it caught up to him when he got someone pregnant. It was an accident, and by god was it the first time he ever felt fear. He didn't love the mother, he had the power and money to dissapear from her life. But he wanted to at least do the bare minimum. So he listened to her, understanding that she wanted to keep the baby, that she wanted at least some help raising it.

Of course, he did everything he could to make her happy. Letting her live at his house, built a room for their baby, spending quality time with her, throwing money at her so that she could relax and take care of their child. He didn't love her, but he felt proud to be with her. She proved the one thing that mattered in his life. That even though him and his father had the same habits, the same mindset, violent tendencies, sadistic urges, and obessive habits.

they were two different people.

One was a cruel sadistic monster who joyfully indulged tortuing his loved ones, while being the most sweet charasmatic CEO to the outside world.

While the other was a cold stoic buisness man who happily beat down his competitors with no remorse, but being the most kindest gentle father behind closed doors.

It was something Hyun felt pride and comfort from. So when she died, he didn't know what to do with himself. They had been together for only two years. Two years, and just like that, she was gone. Now, only 22 with a two year old son, he didn't know how to raise him alone. He had a company to take care of, a son to raise, and nobody by his side to help him. He felt like a mess. It was hopeless.

Except, he had a friend who wanted to understand him. Someone who put him back on his feet and gave him a hand. That reliable somebody who often helped babysit and care for his son when he had to stay at the office for those long hours. A friend that's known him since he was 16, the friend that's been by his side since the birth of his child.

From the moment Hyun "tragically" lost his father to when had his first child, April was there as the supporting him. Always sleeping over, calling him, bringing all sorts of comforting sweets to cheer him up. He's done everything for him. He's the only one he can rely on.

And with the way April so happily dotes on his son, treating them like his own baby. It's given Hyun retrospective on a lot of things.. He'd be lying if he said he was never attracted to him before. God might as well smite him dead if he ever claimed that he never looked at his friend with a certain lense before. But then why did he sleep around? Why didn't he just pursue him and get it on with? Things could've been so different..

At the time, he was confused about his feelings. All he knew was that he was angry and annoyed about those strange thoughts and urges towards his dear old pal, how there was nothing that he could do about it besides hope that it blows over. But now? He knew better. Espically when April had made it clear in the past on how he wanted to be with Hyun..Sending him all sorts of mixed signals..Smiling at him with so much love, being so sweet towards him and his child, cuddling right up to him whenever he slept over.

He was beautiful and so loving. He was the puzzle, the missing part of the triangle. He was the ideal spouse, the perfect parental figure. It was clear as day that he was trying to tell Hyun that he was his since day one. Now that he was able to gather the pieces, finally knowing his final goal to provide the best for himself and his son, you come along. Ruining it all. Smiling all cheerful when you step into the room. Cackling like the witch you are, moving your lips a rat. Hating you was an understatement. He wanted you gone.

If he didn't care about the company, he could've killed you off like the others. But NOOOO. You were important, special. You were a business partner, somebody that could potentially generate more wealth and eliminate his competition if you worked with him. He had to play this one smart. He had to keep you for the sake of the company.

So grinding his teeth together, he smiled at you when the both of you agreed to sign the contract together. At first, working with you wasn't so bad. You were good at your job, diligent with the numbers, and hell, you even got the company on the spotlight for their new launch of makeup. He almost began to like you.

But then you started walking around the employee cubicles, talking to April out of all people. Smirking at him, teasing at him, even daring to put your hand on his shoulder. Hyun's seen the two of you together. He's seen how you've started to dress up more in the hopes of getting his attention. The way you would get close towards his face, just to see him blush and panic. How you would side eye anyone who dared to interrupt your time with him.

It was a constant battle every day. Hyun would be alone with April at a perfect moment, finally having him all to himself while he would ask him out for a nice 'friendly' dinner. For old times' sake. And just as things were about get good- you come bursting through the door. Hugging him and April at the same time, destroying the moment as you rambled about nothing. Grinning while your hands snaked towards his precious employee's chest, whining about how 'lonely' you were and how you wished someone could 'comfort' you.

Ohh he really fucking hated you.

He remembered asking you one time about how you felt towards April during a business dinner meeting. Commenting how he's seen you linger around him on multiple occasions. It was out of character for him, but curiosity the best of him..

"Mhn? He's just fun to play with. It's cute seeing him squirm. But.. I think I want to know him more. I can't help it, I'm a sucker for glasses~"

He wonders how nice you'll look hanging from a meat hook. :)

You weren't too much of a threat so far, just a bit flirty and annoying. You were a bit nosey as well, often staying late into the company quarters. Snooping around in places you shouldn't be looking. It was funny, really. You were so cunning, such the sweet talker - yet you weren't smart enough to think that he wouldn't keep an eye on you?

You weren't subtle stalking April as well. Hiding from a corner while you watched April walk to his bus stop? That was the equivalent of hiding behind a bush. Taking pictures of him while he's not looking with your cellphone? Subtle. Spreading rumours about certain people so that he avoids them like the plague? What are you, a wannabe Regina George?

Everything thing you do in secret, Hyun knows.. Maybe because Hyun was also stalking you while no one else was..A stalker stalking another stalker- the irony. Hyun just wished that someone would just whisk you away. Someone just as annoying, wealthy, crazy, and possessive to distract you from the person he needs in his life.

God, if only he had someone to introduce you to....

.

.

.

_______________________

[milknhonies]

The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 1 ll Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: Among the rain and misery at the bus stop you meet a stranger named August Walker, and he is 'awfully' concerned...

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Explicit, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Smut, P in V intercourse, No Contraception, Manipulation, Older Man/Younger Woman, Implied Suicide, Suicidal Ideation, Drugging, Loss of Virginity.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader (No Description)

Word Count: 10.4k

Author Notes: This story has been published in the past on Tumblr on my old account @milknhonies-old-account since I have created a newer account and I am currently editing the entire story because it doesn't suit my vision as the author. If you'd like to be included in or removed from the Taglist, please comment below

Inspiring Song: ‘Daddy Issues.’ – The Neighbourhood

A rush of air sucked out from your lungs as your hands and knees collided with the gravel pavement. Your stupid kitten heel snapped and your handbag had flown a couple metres in front of you.

Your heart thudded against your ribs as you poorly attempted to catch your anxious breath.

“Dumb. Very stupid. I perceived you to be smarter than this…” his voice dripped into your burning hot ears.

He was behind you, you knew that…with his hands in his suit pockets. His expensive leather shoes crunched on the rocky path the closer he neared you.

You hissed when the chilly night air whistled against your cut up palms. Blood rose up from your skin, shining in the light of the city lamp.

You flinched as his two fingers traced along your spine and pressed harshly down on the back of your neck.

‘Please no!’

With watery eyes, you watched him walk pass and collect your handbag. His lithe fingers dove inside and pulled out the phone. His lips pursed as he let it fall from his hand before crushing it under his foot.

The salty tears raced down your cheeks, gliding into your trembling mouth.

If only you could’ve screamed for help. If only there was someone in the alley way to see what had unfolded.

A hiccup escaped you and he softly cooed, “It’s alright now, I think it’s about time you received an education, my darling.”

You shook your head and felt the rise of bile in your throat.

“Please,” you begged with a raspy voice, “I won’t tell anyone. Let me go. I swear I won’t go to the police, just let me go!”

He tutted his tongue and wagged his finger. He crouched down, his soft hand combed into your sweat-soaked hair and tugged your head up. Your eyes met his icy gaze.

Hopelessness filled you. Begging had fallen on deaf ears.

“That’s right, you won’t tell anyone…but I’m not finished with you yet.”

As a gasp lifted from your lips he chuckled, “You’re precious if you think I’m letting you go after seeing that.”

His cold palm grabbed the sides of your throat and began to choke you. As the oxygen restricted, your little hands clawed desperately at his callous hand. Your feet flailed against the gravel. Tears raced down your face. It was impossible to scream out without any air to cry with. With every passing second, a dizzy blanket was clouding your mind and filling your eyes with black spots. His glare made your knees buckle. Exhaustion from fighting was taking over, your nails left his hands, your eyes were finding it difficult to stay open. Eventually your lashes shut, and you let your mind drown in the airless space of time....

2 Weeks Prior.…

05:12pm Monday 5th August 2024, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane, Australia.

“Y/N you haven’t met your requirements…again…” Your job seeking agent sighed with heavy disappointment, “This is your second demerit…if you can’t meet the quota next fortnight your Centrelink government payments are going to be entirely cut off, do I make myself clear?”

Your fingers pinch at each other, the skin falling away and your nails short as can be. Nodding your head, you bashfully hummed, “I just thought, my circumstances might’ve been enough reason for me not to find a job at this current moment?”

The woman looked at you sharply through her thick rimmed glasses and huffed, “Ah yes that’s right…your friend died, right?” her nose lifted in a light sneer. Her chipped nails clacked at the keyboard, in the reasons for inadequate job search results.

“Family member…actually,” you said, sucking in a deep amount of air to push down the tears forming behind your eyes…just thinking about him made you want to sob your heart out…

“Unless you can supply their death certificate to me, it’s not a good enough excuse.”

You inhaled sharply and nodded in defeat, “…how many jobs do I have to seek out again?”

Her lips twisted, she must’ve thought you were some idiot or bludger of the system. You wanted a job. You just had a tough time finding one. No one wanted to hire the girl that had fuck all experience in anything…no one wanted to hire you even though you had references all proving you were a hard and honest worker. You didn’t have the same networking and nepotism as the kids you went to high school with. They were all in university or in their family businesses. Some even had kids of their own now....

You were nineteen...still so unsuccessful.

You resented those fuckers…and hated yourself more for it. You were a classic for self-loathing and as much as you loved to preach about your confidence, it was all in vain because you knew deep down that you weren’t as smart, you weren’t as pretty and you would never ever be as rich as those around you. You knew you had to work three times as hard to make it through the world…but when…he died…that flew out the window… you were tired. You didn’t want to have to live in such a lonely world. You just want to sleep and sleep until there was nothing of you left.

Depression, one of the many stages of grief.

“To meet your government requirements, you need to hand out at least twenty-five resumes….by the end of the fortnight.”

You swallowed hard and shoved your hands into your jumper pockets.

“I’ll try my best,” you offered with a sickly smile. You rose out of the foam chair, slinging your bag over your shoulder and shuffled to exit her office.

Her brows lifted as she glared you down, “Don’t try Y/N, just do it.”

05:30pm Monday 5th August 2024, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane.

You were rushing to the bus stop shelter.

You wanted to cry. You were overstimulated and stressed. You could barely afford rent. The cost of living was in crisis, and you were finding it nearly impossible to find the courage to put forward your shitty resume.

You were frustrated. You didn’t understand the employment advocates role, they were meant to help you right? Help you write and hand in a decent resume to find a job; not make you feel like a failure.

Tears crawled up behind your eyes as you felt rain from the dark looming clouds fall. Starting to sprint there was a hope the rain wouldn’t drench; however, you still weren’t fast enough. The feeling of cold icy breeze mixed with your self-disappointment had you letting those pearly tears loose. You stumbled under the bus seat shelter and landed yourself onto the freezing metal bench.

You sobbed into your hands and asked yourself, “Why?”

‘Why did you leave your umbrella at home you stupid thing?! Why did the funeral have to cost so much? Why did rent have to cost so much? Why did the water bill have to be so fucking high? Why didn’t you talk to him sooner? Why was the milk that was clearly off not been thrown out? Why didn’t you see the signs? It was all your fault, right? Of course it was! You had to knit pick everything he did, you had to criticise and argue with him over things that truly didn’t matter...why, why, why?!’

‘Because you are a terrible person. An unlovable creature. No one gives a shit about you. Why would they love someone as ugly as you who resented everything in her life and didn’t take a chance to be grateful for anything. You were a mistake, and you shouldn’t be alive…you should run away…you should starve yourself or eat until you explode…you deserve nothing but punishment…you are evil…’

“Bad day, love?”

You jumped at the sound of a stranger’s voice. Peaking up from your warm snot covered fingers, you met man folding close his umbrella.

You frowned and wiped your mucus on your knees and embarrassingly whispered, “I’m alright.”

“Pardon?” He asked and sat down beside you. Your puffy eyes started to clear up and you noticed he was in fact holding a piece of fabric…a handkerchief to you.

He was handsome in a gentlemanly way, and he was ridiculously tall even while sitting beside you. His accent was pronounced and mannerly. British. You figured he was a tad bit older than you, be roughly at least ten years. Boys your age still had acne and didn’t dress in fine three-piece business suits.

He had a fuzzy moustache and a relaxing closed smile.

Your fingers tremble as you take the offering.

“Thankyou,” you said wiping your hands and blowing the last of the green sickly gloop from your noise. You felt embarrassed he could hear the grotesque noise come from your blocked nostrils.

With narrowed eyes you tried to hand back the disgusting handkerchiefs. He shook his head and winked, as if to gesture you keep it, which was fair…

“So…what’s his name?” He laughed lightly.

“Huh?” You weakly sniffled.

“Or her…I definitely don’t judge!” He held up his hands. When you looked at him dumbly, he leant his head down and whispered, “The moron that’s dumped you?”

A surprised giggle poured from your throat, “Oh, no, no one’s dumped me.”

“Ohhh, so you’re miss heartbreaker?” he drawled as he winked and nodded charmingly.

You quickly shook your head, “God no, never been in a relationship before.”

He tapped the side of his lip in thought remarked in dramatically put on surprise, “Then what’s a stunning girl like you sobbing for?”

You froze and shook your head. The lawyer said to keep it to yourself…you weren’t sure if you should’ve just lied to him. But it was his eyes, those sweet smiling lips that broke you down. You sucked your bottom lip and just let loose…

“My um…ugh... dad…he um…he….” You started to break into more tears as you felt forced to acknowledge what occurred, “d-died, he died, and I miss him.”

Your shoulders shook like leaves. The frigid air on your wet body was torturous.

His demeanour softened further, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He offered you a hand and held yours with a tight squeeze as you just lost it in your weeping. Your nose started to clog up.

Dear God, how many times had you already heard someone say that? ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ ‘It’ll get easier with time.’

Everyone you knew who knew about it would say it as if they knew the bastard…squeezing your eyes shut when you opened them you felt them roll and you noticed how he stared at you.

“Sorry,” you croaked. You wiped your face with the handkerchief again before you stuffed it back into your pocket.

He didn’t seem uncomfortable, his smile was soft, his eyes kind.

“You’re allowed to cry…” he suddenly said amongst the loud silence in the rain. He scooted closer to you and carefully placed his hand over your wrist. He tilted his head and murmured, “Did you know that?”

‘I know that, I just don’t deserve to. Not after what I did.’

You swallowed hard and looked away from him as you felt more tears come. You should’ve been disgusted by the way he was so informally getting to you, how his hot hand wrapped around your wrist and the other pinched your jaw, guiding your face back to look at him.

“I-” you choked and twisted your face as you started to wheeze, “I hate him so much…but I miss him and love him at the same time…I just want him back…why can’t I have him back, oh god.”

His eyes kept straight on you.

The bus was starting to pull up. When you noticed, you started to fumble to try and find your bus go-card pass. He let you go and watched you anxiously dive into your bag.

‘God where is it?!’

“Hey, hey! It’s okay.” He touched your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll buy you an uber, how’s that sound?”

You uncontrollably blurted, “Sounds like you’re pitying me.”

You glanced back at him to the bus and tried to stand up. His fingers curled around your jumper and tugged you back a little.

You flinched when you expected anger. A slap. A yell. Anything but his jolly laughter.

“And you think you don’t deserve it? You’ve lost someone you care about. You’ll never see him again. And the least I can do is get a smile back on a pretty girls’ face.”

You smiled and wiped your face as he shooed away the bus driver who was waiting. The bus driver rolled his eyes and threw up his hands before pulling away. The bus took off leaving you both to bare the strength of the rain and wind beneath the shelter.

“Besides…you can’t tell me the bus would’ve gotten you home faster, eh? Assuming you’re going home?”

You nodded and shivered, “Now the uber is gonna be pissed off, I’m dripping wet.”

He smirked, “Believe me. If he’s pissed off, I’ll just have to kill him.”

Now that…that was weird. Perhaps he was trying to exaggerate his gentlemanly nature to you, you wondered. Maybe, because he said it so casually, so it must’ve been a joke.

He took out his phone…sleek…the newest on the tech shelves for sure.

“So, um…where’s your address? Or do you wanna punch it in yourself?”

You told him outright where you lived. He smiled and typed away. He didn’t look like he posed a threat to knowing that information.

He just was a kind soul that gave you a bit of comfort through the day. You weren’t total sure where you sat with spirituality and faith, but you liked to imagine maybe your dad had sent this stranger.

‘Maybe he's an angel in disguise?’ you mused to yourself.

He put his phone back in his pocket.

“Actually, now that I realise, forgive me but I never got your name…I’m Walker, August Walker.”

You couldn’t help it…it was so unexpected, you burst into giggles and replied in a deep manly voice resembling James Bonds classic line, “I’m Y/L/N, Y/N Y/L/N, a pleasure to meet you.” And you stuck out your hand to him. He shook it tightly enough to make you wince and whine a little “Ow.”

His smile widened, “You have a fantastic laugh Miss Y/L/N. So other than dealing with your current grief, what else have you been doing today? You look like you were in an interview?”

You shook your head, “Oh no, it’s a little embarrassing but…I was just at the employment agency group over there.”

He followed your line of sight and nodded thoughtfully, no shame or disgust in his face, “Seeking a job then, are we?”

You smiled, “Yea, but no one’s hiring…”

‘Because I never put in a single resume…not anymore...what’s the point? Not when I won’t be around soon with how my thoughts are headed...’

He looked out into the stormy street with thought written on his face. His lips pursed and his brows descended. Without looking a back at you he then asked, “What type of work are you looking to go into?”

You shrugged, “Anything I guess…I have a talent for social media and a bit of amateur photography. I don’t mind the thought of working in a warehouse and stacking shelves neatly either. If I had the money, I think I’d study journalism.”

Sitting up straighter he rubbed his fingers over his moustache in thought, “Ever thought about not working at all?”

You snickered, but he didn’t find it funny.

“You’re joking right?” You lifted your brows, “Listen, if I didn’t have to work life would be a lot easier. But I’m living off the government right now. If I don’t find a job soon, they’ll cut me off.”

He looked down at you and softly asked, “But honestly…if you didn’t have to work, didn’t have to worry about rent or your next meal…would you be satisfied with not having to work a job? Some people use a job to escape their life, others use it to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. Some love and others hate their jobs. I’m just trying to figure out where you would sit in the equation.”

You liked him. For the first time in weeks, you felt unjudged, you felt comfortable, you felt safe and like life would be okay…you felt heard.

You jokingly replied, “Listen man, if I found myself being some sugar baby overnight, I’d happily take it. No work. There’s nothing better than I can think of…I know it’s shallow to wish that, makes me sound like a gold digger honestly. I just would prefer to live in stability.”

He nodded and chuckled, “I agree!” There was something warm and refreshing being here with him…you felt tingly...down there. A small blush grew in your face.

You saw a fancy black car roll up beside the bus stop hut. It was definitely not your average uber. It was an elite vehicle; it was a tesla. You tilted your head when you saw your new friend rise from the bench and open the umbrella.

“Well come on now, don’t dawdle,” he playfully scolded.

Practically leaping from the bench, you scurried under the umbrella with him. He placed his hand dangerously low on your back guiding you to the back seat of the car. It was fancy enough that the windows were to tinted black outside and the handles were flat on the door…and pushed out so you could open it. Very futuristic, you noted. You wondered just how much it cost to higher an uber of this type and class.

“Hope you don’t mind if I join you for the ride? I’m headed home myself as well,” he said as you slid inside. The warm heated seat greeted your cold wet bum happily. The driver you barely got a look at except that he appeared very professional with his driving gloves, and a driving cap.

You didn’t mind that August was going to join you. It was something you found yourself enjoying…besides you didn’t like the silence of an uber alone.

“Thankyou, honestly,” you suddenly said, “I was having a really shitty day, and you just seem to be my knight in shining armour. Thankyou for your kindness August.”

He leaned forward and turned up the heater and pointed the fans in your direction. A subtle sign, he cared…he was trying to warm you up.

He smirked, “It’s the least I can do. You’re too sweet to leave alone on the street. Anyone could’ve plucked you up and do God knows what.”

You accepted his compliment the best you could. Something buzzed inside of you. You wanted to ask for his number, but reconsidered.

You shouldn’t be feeling that…arousal…‘you’re not thinking straight, your dad just died, you’re clearly just clingy cause you’re broken…now you’ve become someone else’s burden for the day… god you’re a terrible fucking person.’

The car drove on and hit a set of lights.

“Y/N?” You liked hearing your name come out of his mouth, it sounded…sexy. His blue eyes glanced back at you.

“Y-yea?” your throat tightened.

He smiled at the stutter, “Would you mind joining me for dinner tonight? I know it’s quite forward but, I want to keep an eye on you. And listen, I can help you find a job, I do have a lot of connections.”

Your throat constricted. These types of invitations had other motivations attached to them. You weren’t very experienced in that department.

‘Say yes, c’mon girl.’

“I’m sorry but I don’t believe I’m in the right head space for dating right now.”

‘For fuck sake do you want to die alone huh? Maybe you should follow your dads’ footsteps you cold shrew.’

You anxiously recounted, “um, ugh, um. Listen, want to um, come back to my place? I have frozen lasagna and I um…I…no wait…I really don’t want to go back home.”

You couldn’t believe you rejected him so quickly. You were scared he was going to shut you out or kick you out of the car. Your heart wouldn’t stop racing. You wanted to say yes so badly it hurt. Why did your eyes sting? You didn’t see how badly you were breaking down. You were flustered beyond belief. Tears sprinkling out of fear and your mouth wouldn’t stop blubbering until his large hot hands covered your mouth and the back of your head.

Your eyes widened. The driver was watching from the mirror. The hand wasn’t harshly pressed, it was very gentle, you were just unmotivated to move away. His hand on your mouth smelt incredible and his skin on your lips tasted like a sweet salt.

You whimpered and kept crying.

“I need you to breathe through your nose,” he stated sternly… his voice was deeper, more in control, “Deep breath darling.”

You blinked back your tears and nodded, trying to calm yourself down and you took a deep breath into your lungs and coughed into his hand, you tried again and managed to succeed. You grounded yourself for him.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, “Now. I’ll ask again in a different way. Would you like me to take you to dinner tonight? Or would you like to go home? I’m being honest, I don’t think you should be alone tonight with the state you’re in.”

‘Good girl…’ your chest ached. You’d give anything to hear him say it again.

You felt small…without thinking you lifted your feet onto the seat and hugged them to your chest. You buried your nose into your knees and started to sulk. You didn’t know. You didn’t want to say the wrong answer.

“Jude, pull over,” You heard him say and felt the car pull out to the side of the road.

‘Jude…it’s impressive August cares enough to learn the uber drivers name, and that the uber driver obeys his request.’

The rain was getting heavier on the roof of the car. It was calming. You however were shaking. Your mind was racing a mile a minute.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

He undid his seatbelt and rubbed your back, “What for?”

A stuttering ensued from you, “I- I don’t even know you- and-and you’re super nice and- you- I just- I’m sorry for wasting your time and letting you spend the money on the uber. I can’t even pay you back, I’m so sorry. I can leave. I-”

Jude glanced over his shoulder at August who held up a hand to stay silent, the driver turned back and smirked at you in the rearview mirror

“Y/N,” August softly said, “I don’t care about spending money, I didn’t waste it. You’ve clearly been through a lot recently. And it doesn’t sound like you have many friends that are supporting you if you’re behaving like this….”

Finally, he pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, “Do you need help deciding what you want to do?”

You nodded pitifully and tried to compose yourself. His breath was so hot on your face and yet when he pulled back the rush of cold air attacked that spot.

“In that case… Miss Y/L/N, you’re coming to my place tonight, I have a large spare bedroom and bathroom. I have a nice television with all the streaming services. I also have a pool. And you and I are going to do whatever you like. We can order in food. We can talk until the sun comes up or watch as many movies as you like. Tonight, I’m going to be like your best friend. Tonight is about you.”

It stunned you by how causally he tapped your nose.

Your bottom lip trembled.

He smiled softly as reminded, “You’re allowed to cry, would you like a hug?” he opened his arms and moved his leg up onto the seat behind you, laying himself back a little on the door.

The driver did not protest to his passengers’ lack of seatbelt. He switched off the seatbelt alarm.

“Oh god, please, yes,” you hiccupped as you crawled into his arms. You laid your head onto his chest and felt him rub his hand up your spine and down again over and over. His chin sat on your head. He was huge and he made you feel safe….

As you felt the car move away back onto the street you shut your eyes…he was so warm and covered you like a blanket, you felt ridiculously safe…

06:10pm Monday 5th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane.

You didn’t notice you drifted off until you heard the car door shut from the driver.

Your eyes fluttered open before you weakly rubbed the crust that had built on your eyelashes. You groaned and released soft displeased noises.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

In fact, you did. It was the best sleep for the first time in weeks. It had been too long where you had lost rest over the horrible memories and nightmares.

It had stopped raining, but the smell was still thick in the air. The sky was dark, night had set in.

‘How long was I asleep?’

The car was parked inside a round driveway. A large house…a fucking palace…a mansion you’d see the cartel owning in a movie was in your eyesight as you say up. It was pre-modernist, cream and white stone and marble. The lawns were green, and the courtyard was massive, surrounded by hedges, a true botanical garden and a tall black fence gate.

“Where are we?”

The car door opened, and August sat you up so he could slide out and offer his hand to you, “My place.”

You blurted, “Woah.” And heard him chuckle.

“I imagined an apartment inner city or a townhouse north side but not this…”

He said he didn’t live that far from you, but this felt like the middle of nowhere...in a neighbourhood on the Northside...but the area...the building aged style. It must’ve been the southside. You decided this had to be near Sunnybank.

You smiled at the smell of wet soil in the air. It filled your lungs as you stepped out of the car.

Your head hurt…you cupped your eyes as the lamp lights hit them. You hissed. A headache was coming on, “Do you have any ibuprofen or paracetamol I can use? I’ve got a headache is all.”

“Of course,” he said gently.

August took one of your hands and guided you across the white gravel driveway to his front French door that was twice as tall as him. The foyer had your jaw dropping.

To the left was a grand staircase. To the right were two more large doors. And in the centre was a decorative lounge set. The ceiling had a round banister and on the top ceiling was a crystal chandelier.

He took you to the left immediately and entered an enormous kitchen.

The house you noted would’ve had to been influence by ancient Grecians aesthetics with the pillars that held up the second floor.

It was gorgeous. The benches were white marble with gold inlay and the grout on the back splash inlayed with the same materials. He wandered over to the top of a big black matte fridge. There was a cupboard above it. He pulled down a basket filled with little boxes of necessities like Band-Aids and alcohol wipes. August handed you a box of Panadol and fetched a glass of water as you awed at his kitchen space. A big island with two sinks really impressed you.

“This is massive!” You praised before downing two of the white tablets.

This was a billion times nicer than the flat apartment you were living in.

He took the glass back from you and placed it in the sink. He waved his hand, “C’mon I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping tonight!”

You toddled behind him aweing at the rest of the rooms you passed. He took you up the stairs to the second floor where you both passed the banister that looked down to the bottom floor.

He gently touched your back and guided you across the living room on the second floor. There was a more modernised setting. There was carpeted floors and a coffee table with a L-shaped white lounge. It was so pristine and clean. The television on the wall you swore was as big as a wall in your apartment. You floated to the glass French doors that held. Balcony and sitting area.

He came to a halt at a light wooden door and cracked it open. The room was amazing! The bed was a queen, and the bed was covered in a fresh made set of cream coloured covers. You liked the design and art. It had a European Victorian era feel, like you were walking into a royal bedroom…but in Australia.

‘Interesting design choices.’

You laid your tote bag on the duvet and sat on the edge. To your left was a bathroom and to your right was a big window that opened the view of the back yard. At the foot of the bed there was a spacious closet to hang coats and dresses. You couldn’t stop smiling until it really hit you….men are never nice….not for free.

“Um August?”

“Yes love?” he said as he opened the curtains wider and jiggled a lock to open the window. Cool air flowed into the room. The sound of frogs and cicadas filled your ears.

“…Are you um…expecting….” You breathed out a tight bundle of air and fluttered your eyes shut, your fingers started to fidget, “Um do you….are you wanting…ugh.”

He patiently stared at you from the window with his soft smile.

“Do you expect to have sex with me? Is that what this is? You ugh, pamper me? Play nice? And then guilt me into sex? I just don’t roll that wa-”

His hand held up to stop you from continuing. He laughed and shook his head.

“Y/N no, of course not, I don’t expect a thing from you tonight…I just hope to help you. You need help. And I think tonight.” He crouched down to your feet and held your hands, “…I can help you.”

You unleash the breath you were holding and grinned. It was too good to be true…maybe he was gay?

He stood back up, “You can leave your bag in here if you like, let me show you the rest of my- um actually.”

August rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lip with a quick thought, “Did you want to change into something else? I can throw your wet clothes into a dryer. I don’t want you getting sick.”

You looked down at yourself and felt guilty for dripping down onto his nice carpet.

“It’s okay! I need to change too! You kinda got me all soaked when we cuddled in the car,” he tapped your shoulder.

You nodded slowly, “but what…would I wear? Do you have anything that would fit me? I mean no offence you’re just a really tall guy…”

The hairs on the back of your neck rose. Was this some ploy to get you nude? He just told you he didn’t want sex...

“Oh yes, just moment!” He said and he left the room. About five minutes of ringing his carpet in your wet state he returned. In one hand was a large white T-shirt and towel and in the other he was pinching light blue men’s boxers.

“I don’t have…ladies’ underwear on hand. The bottoms are new so it’s okay if you wear them. They’ll be covered by the shirt. Oh, and a towel.”

You nodded and skipped off to the shower that was beside the toilet in the next room.

You locked the bathroom door behind you and stood under a spray of total heavenly warmth unaware of the actions of a sick man just in the room beside you…

When you finished. You slid into his clothes easily. The clean scent of fresh linen invaded your nose.

You abandoned your clothes on the tiled floor along with your shoes you felt guilty for not taking off the moment you stood inside his beautiful home.

Coming out you tiptoed to the window and looked out at the view of the patio and what you suspected was a pool house or a car garage.

You felt your hands having to go to your hips and waist and pull up his boxers. Even for your size they were too big…how huge was he below the belt you suddenly wondered.

A soft knock on the door spun your head around. August was in the doorway. No longer in a suit but rather a pair of cotton shorts and a button up shirt which he left unbuttoned.

He lifted his brows at your hands clenching your hips.

“The bottoms keep falling down…sorry!” You tried to laugh it off.

He smiled and took your dirty clothes from off the bathroom floor. “Let me chuck these in the dryer and I’ll show you more around yea?” he skirted out the room after your confident grin.

You stood out in the living room area waiting for him to return. You heard him close and turn on his dryer, before seeing him steer around the corner, “Please, come right this way.”

Going downstairs and rounding the rooms you were exposed to an office, another bathroom, another, living room and a games room with walls lined with bookshelves and a billiard table in the centre.

You both stepped out onto the patio. There was chairs and tables and a cooking area and bar.

He held out his arm, gesturing you to walk down some stone steps. As you walked, beautiful warm lights glowed awake in the gardens. He held out his hand and flexed his fingers....he wanted to hold your hand.

And you wanted to be held again badly. You put your hand into his and walked beside him on the concrete path. You passed a beautiful fountain with angels pouring the water from vases.

“What do you do- work wise- to afford all of this or is it generational wealth or-” You recounted, “I swear I’m not trying to be rude. I just…you must be a millionaire...or even a billionaire...”

August smiled proudly and chuckled, “Please, I’m very grateful and happy to have all that I own. I’m just a very hard worker. I know how to talk to people. I started out as an actuary, but nowadays I’m crushing the market with my investment properties and stock exchanges.”

Your eyes widened, “You have more than one house!?”

A sting of annoyance hit you. Of course, he owned investment properties. That’s how all these rich scumbags survived off the working class during this cost-of-living crisis.

‘He’s definitely a billionaire in this economy. Ain’t no way he can afford a property like this and more as a standalone millionaire.’

He laughed and nodded and winked, “Yes, I do, but I make more money off my clubs. I run a few elite groups. Night clubs, boat clubs, a golf club and more unique clubs, a lot of them are overseas...Oh and a the little Asian restaurant in Sunnybank.”

‘Dad used to deliver there...’ you tried not to dwell on his memory. Quickly you wanted to change the subject in your own mind.

You lightly giggled, “Oh is that why…you ugh…said you could get me a job? Mr boss man?”

He bit his lip and shrugged, “Yes and no.”

He didn’t elaborate. You were waiting for him to offer a bartending or cleaning career. Instead, he showed you the pool inside his giant pool house across from a lengthy tennis court.

The pool was long and rectangular with inner pool lights that reflected the blue water. It had a heating system and off the side there was a spa jacuzzi.

He held open the glass door. You tiptoed ahead of him and slipped to the ground to stick only your feet into the small bubbly pool.

He joined you and turned the machine on. He pressed another button and the roof seemed to move away. You jaw dropped again, and a small laugh escaped you. The stars were starting to appear against the black night sky. You’d never seen something so advance and magical in technology.

The warm lights of the pool yard flickered on. Steam rose from the bubbling spa and your nose wrinkled as you smiled back at him.

“So….how do you suggest I become a billionaire, take a course in stock market patterns?” You joked which started a bark of laughter in him.

“I just don’t think you’re cut out for it. That stress.”

It might’ve offended you, his cutting brush off. ‘Why can’t men just be honest and say they don’t want women in power?’ however after the death of your father, it was easier for you to just agree and kick your feet in the water lazily. Your stomach growled lightly.

“Guess that’s the dinner bell?” August joked as you sheepishly smiled and embarrassingly turned your face away from him, “Chinese? Italian? Sushi? Pizza, name it and we’ll get some delivered.”

You chose Chinese. Honey chicken was your favourite. He was a sweet and sour pork kind of guy.

You both ate it out back at the house upstairs in the living room. He was finding it difficult to use the chopsticks until he gave up and chose to use the disposable fork.

“Here,” he said stabbing his food and drifting it to your mouth, “What do you think?”

You never felt so comfortable as this with someone since your dad passed. Not even your high school friends were so…casual and inviting?

You smiled and opened you mouth to accept his fork.

You gagged and shook your head, “Now that’s awful! I’d be getting a refund for that, I’m lucky my chicken doesn’t taste like that.”

You burst into giggles as he opened his mouth gesturing that you feed him some of your dish now. You shook your head with a smile and complied.

Why did this feel…romantic…he really was a good guy right?

He winced and gasped after swallowing, “Too sweet.”

After throwing the plastic containers away you and he flopped on the white couch.

“So, what’s your movie request?”

You lazily shrugged and leaned against his arm as he flicked through the thousands of on demand movies.

It’s when you felt it though….something clawing at the back of your mind and gut…You didn’t want to watch a movie at all…

“Hey, can…can you show me how to play poole on your table in the games room?”

His eyes brightened, “Sure! C’mon then.”

‘God, he’s gorgeous…’

07:06pm Monday 5th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane.

The games room was still as impressive the first time you stood inside. He rounded the opposite side and started laying out the balls.

“Have you ever played before?”

“Yea, but I’ve kinda forgotten the rules?”

He smiled, not annoyed by your lack of knowledge. He looked eager.

“Well, I’ll reach you the easiest game I know, Eight Ball,” he assured as he passed you a cue stick.

He rubbed the chalk on the tip and set the game up.

August guided you gentle by the elbow and lifted the triangle cage frame from the balls clenched together.

“To start the game, we hit the white ball to hit the other balls. There two teams. Solids verses stripes.” He pointed to the two different balls, “which team would you like to be?”

You bit your bottom lip gently, “Hmmmm stripes!”

He smiled, “Then I’m solids.”

He then explained that you had to get all your team balls into the holes by hitting the white ball into them, but you weren’t allowed to let the white ball fall in too or else you missed a go the next turn.

You watched him lean down and start the game. Leaning yourself down you hit your balls in with a streak of luck, beating him.

“Used to play huh? I reckon you were pulling my leg, now Miss Y/L/N…you are whipping me!”

You couldn’t help the giggles flying from your mouth.

Eventually it became head-to-head as your luck ran dry…. Now it was do or die. You and he both only had a single ball left.

You leant down and stuck out your tongue as you aimed your cue… you couldn’t get the right angle though. It was tricky. You were risking hitting his ball instead and that would lose you a go next turn.

As a pair of hot lips touched your ear you jumped, “Need some help?” He purred.

Nervously glancing you licked your lips and nodded. He got behind you. Fuck, he was huge…you felt so warm in the pit of your belly.

His arms bared you to the table practically. His large hands readjusted your hold on the cue and sneakily slid down between your thighs to part them.

“Widen your stance, get really close.”

But his fingers lingered along your inner thighs… your felt sweat bead on your forehead confident he could feel the warmth radiating from your pussy. The boxer shorts you borrowed were also slipping down. You felt the cold air tickle your butt crack.

You aimed the cue and hit the ball….but it missed…

He laughed as you cheekily claimed, “You cheated! You made me miss! Sabotage!”

“Well how about we make it fair then? Let’s make a bet,” he chuckled, he chalked his que tip was he spoke, “If you win, you can have whatever you want out of me, a car, a house, a job, whatever, but if I win?...I get to kiss you.”

Your massive grin fell, and you stood away from the green covered table. Your heart dropped…maybe he wasn’t a gentleman….

“You said I didn’t have to have sex with you.”

His eyes were wide, while his voice was softer with his hand lifted, “And you don’t! I just think it would be nice if I could kiss you…if I win…you won’t even need to kiss me back. Just a peck on the lips is all. Or the cheek if that’s more acceptable?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and moved closer back to the table, “Alrighty then…”

He bent over the table and aimed his cue…he missed the hole. The ball smacked hard and bounced from the wall.

It was now your turn. You leaned steadily and tried to mimic what he was guiding you to do before. You breathed in and as you slid the long stick across your thumb, you struck home…your last stripe ball fall into the hole and you won the game.

You shrieked with happy disbelief and twirled around giggling, “I win, I win, I win.”

He shook his head smiling. And sat on the edge of the table watching you enjoy your success.

“Girls rule and boys drool!” You snapped with you little victory dance. You spun on your heel girlishly and wagged the cue stick.

You were drunk off your own winnings you collided into him a little too hard. He grunted. His hands peaked out and gently tugged your sides between his leaning legs.

“Now miss Y/N you’ve won the prize, what are you claiming today?” He said it like a game host which tickled your insides. He was grinning wide.

“Tesla, house? How about a fancy little doggy? Or a brand-new iPad?”

Your cheeks grew hot. He said he’d offer you anything…but he must’ve been joking surely…you didn’t want to push your luck by saying something silly as “a million dollars”.

You wanted him to like you, honestly. Your toes scrapped against the carpet in brief thought...you thought about how maybe you really wanted to give him exactly what he wanted...why hide that?

You sighed and glanced up at him and purred, “What about…a kiss from August Walker the most patient, kindest and generous man I’ve ever met in a very long, long time.”

You coyly cocked your head as you leant against him. His broad chest was hard and muscled. You experimentally placed your hand over his chest sliding it up to his neck.

He smirked, “Well I think we can come to some form of agreement for that then, yes?” His face leaned down and he pressed his hot lips to your wet almost drooling mouth. His moustache was rough against your nose and chin. Now you know what they meant in romance novels when kissing men with facial hair tickled. You just wanted to keep giggling as those dark hairs poked your soft skin.

Your wrist fully came up behind his neck. ‘God, this is surreal’.

You felt like you were in a romance novel or soap opera. You melted perfectly. It wasn’t the first kiss you’ve ever had but it was the most comforting and intoxicating one.

“Fuck,” you whispered against him as he pulled back a little before licking your lips softly.

His hands on your waist became hands beneath the shirt. He was slow and steady. Hot palms traced your belly and breasts and back. You gasped lightly into his mouth and felt his light squeezes. He pushed his head back.

“And how was that prize Y/N?”

You nodded and sucked both your lips into your mouth. You felt warm and light, with a bucket of butterflies in your tummy. You felt brave....

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this good. ‘Lord knows it’s been months.’

Finding his large hands under the shirt you touched them and guided them to grope your naked breasts.

“Not enough, need more,” you huskily begged.

He obliged. He slid off the billiard table and picked you up like you weighed the size of a small dog.

‘God he is so strong…’

He carried you quickly to his room, it was upstairs and across from the guest room he had put you in. He barely had time to turn on his lights with how desperate you were clinging to him, kissing his neck and ear.

He laid you across the bed and bent down over you. He parted your legs and pressed himself against you.

He whispered, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Do you want this? Because I can stop now but when my cock is inside you, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

You felt your blood pumping and rushing…God, you wanted this so bad…you needed this distraction…there was only one thing stopping you…

“I…I…I’ve got no idea what I’m doing sorry.”

A wave of embarrassment caught you fast. Your hands pressed into your eyes trying to not cry.

You choked up, “Um I’ve never done this…”

You felt him move completely away and you weren’t sure if that was something you regretted saying. You felt so ashamed. You must’ve disappointed him.

He pulled your hands away from your face and with your blurry gaze you managed to see his softened face. His cheeks were pink. He laid a hand on your head and ran his thumb across your forehead.

You whimpered. The humiliation was consuming you.

“Listen to me…” he soothed, “Your kisses,” he lightly chuckled, “That told me straight away you’re not very experienced...I don’t mind. Are you a virgin? I don’t mind if you are or aren’t. I can show you, teach you what to do. I don’t want you to feel scared tonight, okay?”

It was a weight lifted from your chest. You slowly nodded and swallowed audibly.

The grin on his face grew the widest you had seen it, “Good girl.”

Your chest squeezed with warmth. He thumbed away the two sneaky tears that had escaped your eyes. His fingers then hooked the large shirt off your head. It was habit to be modest, your wrists rose up and covered your chest.

With the tick of his tongue, he playfully disapproved. His nose shoved down into your neck and you squealed with a laugh as you couldn’t hold back from his moustache rubbing against the sensitive flesh. You felt his lips smiling against you, his head shaking a little. Large hands rubbed along your back and arms, before carefully pulling your wrists away from your chest. His lips and wet tongue made your toes curl as they drifted across your collar bone and down to your chest. With small fuzzy kisses, he pecked along your breasts.

Your eyes sparkled. He was so nice…he was so safe…making sure to make this easy and fun.

His nose pressed into the underside of your tit, and he breathed in, “God you smell incredible.”

The buzz of praise rose in you.

His mouth leaned up and he looked you in the eyes as he watched his lips around your right nipple. His hand reached up and thumbed the left one.

A deep guttural moan escaped your mouth as you watched and felt his hot mouth play with your buds. When he sucked, you knew you were done for. Your hips jerked. There was no friction but the boxers and air. Your clit was making you want to cross your legs tightly. But the way you sat; your legs would not be able to close.

After what felt like hours, but you knew really were measly seconds, he detached his mouth with a loud pop and sucked at your skin down the line of your belly. He eventually got to the hem of his boxers on your hips.

He was rough and it shot electric energy through you as you felt his hands pull them down with lightning speed.

You shrieked and cupped yourself. Now this was scary…you were hairy, and you felt embarrassed for not being entirely clean.

You could smell yourself and that was humiliating. No matter how many times the doctor said nothing was wrong you or your ph levels, just weren’t entirely sure. You never smelt anyone else’s musk like that before.

His eyes widened. You almost broke into sobs then. Could he smell it too?

He didn’t wait. No, he forced your hands above your head as he pushed you completely back.

He grunted, “keep them back or I’ll tie them back.”

A voice in your head joked that you should test his theory but in the logic of your mind you accepted to obey his request.

You watched as he pushed your knees further away and his mouth pressed into your inner thigh. Your thighs trembled as you bit the inside of your cheek to stop from giggling from the tickling pricks of his face.

He groaned incredible loudly, “You’re already so wet for me? I’ve never met such a girl that could drench her thighs like this,” he lied.

His face was so close you felt his hot breath fan over your lips and clit. The sensation caused you to involuntary jerk back.

He darkly chuckled, “Now, now, we’ve barely begun.”

Without verbal warning, his mouth dove between your legs. His giant flat tongue licked you from your back entrance all the up to your slut. His hands clamped down in your rising hips. He forced your hips to stay still as he licked away at every crevice and nook.

Your eyes couldn’t stay open. Your mouth couldn’t stay quiet. You were his moaning mess.

Who would’ve thought? Your luck…crying at a bus stop became moaning in millionaire bedsheets.

He didn’t seem to care about the hair or unkept scent. You didn’t comment on your legs, or your armpits and he was eating you out like a starved man…wow…those were green flags.

You felt bold…. your hands came down and found his head of curls. Your fingers brushed and combed and lightly tugged him in.

When he looked up, he looked like he was glaring…

“S-sorry,” you whispered as you pulled back.

He shook his head and put your hand back on his head.

You smiled. God he was fucking perfect…what if this was all just a dream?

This was a happy dream. It was erasing the memory of grief. Your broken heart was mending under his care. A man you had only met today, and you were panting under him, yearning to please him for his generosity. It made you feel smaller…but you didn’t feel…guilt…. you enjoyed feeling like you were now protected, and safe…

You felt his nose press against your clit, and you choked as your lower body buzzed and shook out a small orgasm.

“f-fuck!” You whimpered.

He pulled back, his chin was glistening with your wetness.

He abruptly stood tall and gruffly commanded, “Move up a little and lay back, I’m gonna fuck you, okay?”

You nodded and felt your chest tighten with anxious excitement.

You scooted your butt back on his bed. Your knees you fought yourself to keep open as he just stared at you…he was just look at all of you, his eyes flashing around from your legs to your chest to your face.

He made you feel…worshiped. He made you feel beautiful with how unbashful he was as he stared. He pushed down his shorts and started to climb onto the mattress with you.

But what was between his legs surprisingly turned you off…

“Wait…wait Aug-August…I…I don’t think I can take that….you…ugh.”

He was prideful…he sat back on his ankle. His erection jutted to the sky. He tilted his head.

“I have fucked smaller things than you darling. I know my cock will fit.”

“B-but” you whined, “it’s – that’s gonna hurt me.”

He crawled up closer and grabbed your ankles dragging you down to him. You squeaked and looked up at him with flickers of fright… he wouldn’t hurt you, would he? He hasn’t all day. But this was a sticky situation to be in…

He rubbed his hands on your knees.

“Trust me…it won’t hurt.”

Your lips curled into your mouth. You slowly nodded…he was right, surely it won’t hurt. He did just give you lubricating oral sex…you trusted him.

He kissed you again and stole your breath away as he shifted himself forward and spat loudly into his hand. He pumped himself once, then twice and sat the silk soft tip on your clit. He dragged it down to the entrance of your pussy and pushed inside.

Your hands automatically grabbed his arms that were beside your head.

“Deep breath Y/N,” he shuddered, “c’mon be a good girl, relax your body.”

You tried your best to focus. Looking between you was a mistake; he was so huge and intimidating. You were confident he was tearing your opening.

You pressed your eyes into his wrist and tried to breath in and out.

Your skin prickles with goosebumps as you felt the walls of your inside expand.

He was widening you and making you full. Not a crevice within was not full of him.

You felt the brace of your cervix and huffed and tapped his arm. There wasn’t any way he could go further without killing you.

Your eyes started to tear up. He pulled back slightly and pushed back in, taking your breath from your chest in a light gasp. He did it again. This time he moaned now.

“You feel incredible Y/N.”

You nodded, it was hard for you to speak, you didn’t know what to even say.

He pushed in again and you lazily smiled, he was rubbing against your G-spot. Maybe it wasn’t so terrible for him to be so big?

You clenched uncontrollably and heard him hiss with pleasure.

He began to pick up the pace and rock faster inside of you.

“Yes,” you whispered, “god yes, yes, yes.”

When he chuckled, your insides shook with ultimate excitement. You gasped and let out a light moan.

His hand came between you and thumbed your clit. You had to bite your knuckle to stop from shrieking too loudly.

But he growled and tore your hand from you.

“If you scream, it better be for me,” he grunted and licked your neck before nibbling your earlobe.

Your eyes widened. His face was hard and hot with concentration and restrain. His hips rippled the bedding as he fucked you. You mewled loudly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and moved your hips up. You thought he was hitting your cervix beforehand but surprisingly he now felt somehow deeper inside of you in a plain of pleasure. You threw your head back against the soft mattress and gutturally groaned.

You were confident you were going to cum soon. His brutal thumb kept flickering along your clit and the overstimulation of his mouth on your neck and his grunts and sighs above you finally set you into a blaze of heavenly flow.

You cummed with a silent scream. Your mouth was open and when your lungs found air, an exasperated cry escaped you. Tears fell and you moaned as you felt him continue to move until he himself froze up and sighed out his pleasure….it was when you now realised.

“Oh shit…you’re not wearing a condom.”

His eyes fluttered as he slowly pulled out and kissed your cheek.

“I’m gonna guess from the response you’re not on any pills or the shot? It’s okay I promise, I can get you some plan B. Let me clean you up first.”

It was so different to have met a man like him. He was like a unicorn in legend…he was perfect, handsome and kind.

You trusted in him.

He stood from the bed. You wouldn’t have bothered him to go grab a cloth, but your legs were lifeless. There was no way you were gonna walk on your own.

He waddled back from his master bathroom and kneeled to you. His hands spread your thighs further apart and kissed your skin. You giggled at his wiry moustache tickling your soft sweaty flesh. He took his time before cleaning you. He was staring at you. You didn’t understand why he was staring until a warm trickle poured out of your cunt…you sat up abruptly and tried to look down. You knew what it had to be…his cum…he had stuffed so much you were leaking out on his bed.

He was smirking…

He reached forward with the cloth towel. It was warm and wet on one half which he washed you with and then dried you in the other half. He stood up and said hushed, “I’ll be back.”

His lips pressed to your forehead, hot and wet.

It was maybe five minutes when he came waddling back, now totally flaccid, with a glass of water and a white tablet.

You felt bashful so nude and open on the bed. You thought about curling up in the blankets. You felt light and warm and needing a decent nap.

You looked up at him. He softly smiled.

“Open,” he whispered. Playfully you stuck out your tongue. He laid the pill flat on your pink tongue before pressing the lip of the glass to your lips. Greedily you drank down the pill. You took over the glass from him and gasped loudly when you finished it. You happily fluttered your eyes at him while he sat down on the bed beside you.

He was perfect. And yet…something didn’t sit right with you though.

“You keep…plan B in your home?”

Now that was disturbing…why couldn’t the man use a sheep skin condom? How many women does he sleep with? How old are the pills he’s keeping? How much of a playboy is he? It made you feel worthless.

All your happiness deflated. You were no longer special...you were just a number of his lays. And he took your first time…

He laughed and shook his head, “No, I don’t.”

That didn’t make sense because he just gave you a-

Your hands felt shaky. Your lips felt numb.

“Wh-what did you just give me?”

He took the glass from you before you dropped it. He put it in his side table.

“Aug-August…what was that?” You asked a little firmer, scared he didn’t hear you the first time.

“It’s plan B, right?” You started to beg.

When he didn’t answer you again, you knew something was truly wrong. It was dangerous. Your clothes were in his dryer, your bag down the hall. You were totally naked. You were totally vulnerable.

Your body was starting to experience drowsiness. Nausea was creeping in your belly. You hated this feeling.

You weakly moved down the bed. He didn’t try to stop you. He sat next to you and watched you lazily reach for and clench the borrowed t-shirt off the floor. You felt his hands pull it down your head, helping you dress. But you didn’t want his help, you wanted to know why that pill made you feel like the room was swaying even though you were sitting.

You pushed yourself on your feet and used the wall for support as you left this room. He was slowly behind you.

You knew now this was some sick game…he wasn’t watching over you to protect you, he was watching over you to toy with you.

“G-go away,” you whined as you tried to walk to the guest room to get to your bag and phone. You had been drugged and needed to call the police as soon as possible.

How could he have done this to you?!

You felt so exhausted. You heard his voice, but it was far away and you didn’t catch his words.

You finally got to the spare room but to get to the bed was a task impossible without a support wall. You slowly crouched to the floor and got to your knees. You were cold and naked and scared, but your heart was slow and relaxed by the drug. Your thoughts were racing. It was like your body wanted to be anxious but was too tired to match your thoughts.

Your fingers clenched the carpet as you crawled to the bed. Your bag felt so far away but you knew it was only two steps away.

As your hand reached for the mattress and your bag, August sat on the bed and took your phone from it. He waved it in front of your eyes and as you tried to grab it, he snatched it away.

“St-stop it,” you moaned. He laughed at you.

He shook his head and held the phone out to you, only to tear it back when you tried to grab it. He teased you. You started to cry. Frustrated and scared, you wept and felt your body giving out. Your arms fell forward, your face was pressed into the carpet.

The last thing you saw was his feet and his hand waving your phone in front of your face before your vision became black.

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[deadpool15]

Ch.2 To be loved

Seeing him was the highlight of my day. I remembered when I was nothing but an orphan, though I can't remember my biological parents. I sometimes like to think they died. It was the best way for me when I was just a kid. To accept the fact that even the ones who gave you life viewed as nothing but a mistake was difficult. My mother viewed her destiny as saving her country, getting rid of the drugs that were taking lives. In my opinion, people died all the time. Life was hard. We have no idea what someone is going through until they are pushed to the end. She would never understand that struggle. That pain. When I heard it was si-o behind all this, I had to know why. People have reasons, I had to be the one to see the good in him. Even if no one else could. I was falling in love, love makes you do dumb things.

Whether I was dumb or hopeless, I wanted to know him. Not the version he showed to the public, the fake smiles meant nothing to me. I wanted to see him truly smile, to be happy. I happened to be at one of my mothers many chain restaurants. And to my luck sitting there was the man I had hoped for, now I hadn't prepared myself to speak to him and I realized that when he had made eye contact with me. Stern, serious glare like he knew I was watching him. Talking to people wasn't necessarily the issue. I talked my way out of parking tickets, jail, and even school punishments as a child. I was a smooth talker, one thing I developed from my mom. Though he made me nervous, my hands were sweating, and I had the urge to convert into oxygen. I wanted to cry because as much as I hated to admit it, his opinion of me meant a lot. One accidental interaction, and I was hooked. He knew me as Tseg tseg rich spoiled friend. I wanted him to see me. It already pissed me off that he had eyes for my sister. She took everything from me without even fucking trying. I had to man up and fight for what I wanted.

"Hello sir, you probably don't know me, but my name is Danny. We kinda met before when I bumped into you at your company." He smiled though I could tell it was fake, after years of faking happiness myself. I knew a fake smile from a mile away. "Right, your Tseg's little friend, correct?" Irritation couldn't even be used as the word for what I felt in that moment, I wanted him to see me. "Technically, that's how we met, though I just wanted to say something t-to you. Please." I stood up drawing attention to myself truly not what I needed right now, but I had to tell him before anything else happened. My anxiety was through the roof, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die right then and there standing under his intimidating stare. I had to do this, though. He was the first person I felt genuine feelings for, and I didn't even know him personally. The effect he had on me was outrageous.

"I wanted to go out with you. I want to get to know you, and I know I'm not korean, and your parents may have an issue with that, but I mean Nationality vise I am. Everyone thinks I'm just this spoiled rich assshole, but i im not, and i want to show you that there is more to me than my money or parents' money. I have korean parents, so that counts, I'm well accounted for, and I have seen you before, and you're all I think about no matter what. I try to get my mind off of you, and my brain proceeds to show different connections to you. And if you p-plan to reject me, just sit here and silence, and I won't ever bother you again. Well, I hope so, I can try." He was astonished but my speech. Everyone had turned their attention towards us and started clapping. I hadn't even noticed at first. I couldn't handle rejection, especially not by him. I wanted to be with him, breathe in his scent, and help him with anything. Live a life with him. Silence was what I got, and I took the message. I had embarrassed him and myself.

Suddenly, walking out, trying to hold back tears, I was 5 years old me again. I'm sitting at my dance recital waiting for my mommy. She promised she would come today since I told her how much this meant to me. Sitting there for the next 4 hours in nothing but silence was the worst feeling a child could feel. The competition was over, I didn't even dance, missing a chance to get picked for a major academy. I saw dad pull up. Why did she hate me so much. "Honey, you didn't tell me you had a competition today, and I found the scouts there as well. I would've shown up, baby." I stared at him. I was a daddy's girl simply because my mother broke my heart before I could ever feel love from her. "I didn't tell you because I told Mommy. I wanted her to come watch me this time. To surprise her with my skills." Just glancing at him, I knew that look, the look of a father who was afraid to break their already broken child. I snapped out of it when I felt someone shaking my shoulders. Looking up, it was him. "I've been calling you for 20 minutes. You almost got hit by that truck. Are you even paying attention?" I stared at him, I didn't know what to say, would he care enough to hear. "You ran out before I could say anything. Scared? You're very pretty. And bold. I've never had someone confess their love for me in a public area at that. I admire that, while I don't really know you, I would like to get to know you. Experience something."

I was so happy at that moment that I completely ignored the world around me. I jumped onto him. He was startled at first but caught me with ease. I leaned back and cupped his face, pecking his cheek, and for that first time, I saw a genuine smile. A real surprise for me, I enjoyed it. "You look beautiful when you smile, like a hidden jem only made for the luckiest humans to gaze at." He stared at me, blushing. From that moment, we slowly got to know each other, getting closer day and night. Developing an unbreakable bond. I didn't care he was a so-called criminal. When I was with him, none of that mattered. I never asked about his business, letting him know if he wanted to tell me he could. I kept this from my family, I knew they would never approve of what we had, especially my mother. She didn't give a shit about me, but in a situation like this, she saw him as an enemy.

We sat at a Korean BBQ shop. It was simply nice to spend time at a place with no worries. "I could've taken you someone nicer, you know." I placed some meat on the grill what grabbing a piece and putting it in front of his mouth. He smiled and opened his mouth to eat it. "Is it good? And you know I don't care about expensive restaurants. I've been to enough in my lifetime. I just want to be with you. To be honest, you could've gotten fried chicken and took to me the beach to eat. It's the thought that counts, babe." He smiled at me, I smiled back until I realized the petname I gave him immediately going to apologize. "It's fine, I actually like it. Babe." Blushing, I gave him more meat. We talked about our days, he was stressed and I wanted to help. Thought he said I shouldn't stress myself. We finished eating and literally had a full-on battle over who would pay the bill. I won, "Maybe I'll let you pay next time." He laughed, grabbing my hand and walking out of the shop. While pda was no foreign concept to me, it still made me feel like it was the first interaction between us each time it happened. "Come home with me, please." I stared at him in shock. He had never asked me this. I had no experience in relationships, but usually, that leads to other things. I didn't know what was gonna happen, but I trusted him.

We showed up to his home. He told me to wash up for the night. I happily got in the shower to think I was happy. A foreign feeling. My shower lasted well over 30 minutes, I looked down and saw a towel and a button-up shirt. Luckily, I always kept a spare thong with me. Putting on the clothes, I walked out of the bathroom to find him already washed up and laying in bed. A blue robe and pajama pants on while he was on the phone. I walked out of the room to got place my clothes in the hamper, then grabbed a glass of water. I was drinking it while examining the home I had never been inside. Eventually, I walked back towards the room where he was done with his phone call. And looked up with a dropped jaw. I smiled at his antics. "You're still so pretty. With and without the makeup. Come here." Walking slowly towards his bed, he gestured for me to move closer. I crawled to him, and apparently, it wasn't close enough because he picked me up and placed me on his lap while holding my hips. I felt nervous. He noticed squeezing my hips with his larm hands.

I grabbed one of his hands, placing them in mine. Comparing the size and then kissing his palms, I looked up at him to see a bright smile. "I'm not tired yet." I told him it usually took me a while to go to sleep. I was just always up. He nodded and pulled me closer in a hug. Affection from si-o was always the best. I could tell he wasn't the most affectionate person, so I didn't push him. Though I craved his touch, I craved everything about him. Looking out the window, I saw the stars. "This reminds me of when my mom took me and my siblings camping once. It was weird, though it was fun." I continued to look at the stars until he spoke up. "You don't talk about your mother much. Actually, you don't talk about her at all. For a second, I thought she had passed." I was shocked by the thought of my mothers absence. Sure, I never spoke about her because there weren't any good memories, to be honest. "It's fine if you don't want to speak about it." I looked at his face full of concern he was so patient with me, but I wanted him to know and trust me like I did him. "It's ok, it's just.....there isn't much to talk about, you know. She was there but not there. She was always focused on my older sister. She was the amazing daughter who could do no wrong. And I was simply the girl that lived in her house, or that's what it felt like. Sometimes, it felt like I didn't have a mom to begin with. To think I used to pray to have a mother that would be there for me. Then my sister went missing, and as much as I hate to say it, I was happy, for once I though she would pay attention to me, realizing she had two daughters but it only got worse. I was just there, and I hated myself for the fact that I was happy my sister was gone. I've always been jealous of her she is better in every way. That's so evil of me, but I was so fucking lonely. She is such a good person, and makes friends so easily and everyone likes her but me they look down on me. I'm nothing more then a spoiled bitch using her parents credit card to fill the void."

Before I noticed, I was full on sobbing in front of him. I broke down, secrets I've never told anyone in my life. I was afraid of what the world would think of me. He grabbed my shaking hands, kissing them slowly, whining, moving up to wipe my tears. "Your feelings are normal baby, you went your entire life playing second place because your mother is a terrible mother, no offense. A bit of a bitch you know. No secret there since she is Hwang Geum Joo." Hearing that part made me laugh. Until I sat there shocked he knew of my parent. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." It was all I could say at the moment. He looked at me and pressed against my cheeks, letting me know it was ok. And he underdtood the urge to protect her even if she wanst good to me. Or cared for me, it seems."You are so amazing and kind and beautiful. She isn't better than you at all. I wish you could see the way I see you. You have lightened up my world as a whole. I was nothing but a cold, damaged asshole when I met you, then I realized no matter how my life pushes and kicks your ass its your choice to get back up. To keep going, you taught me that baby. All the drug business and shady stuff I do, you don't judge me at all. Sitting by my side supporting me no matter what I choose to do. When I was an orphan and Pavel took me in, trained me to become the person I am today, hit after hit. Missed meal after another, I prayed for a better life. You have provided that life." Hearing those words, my heart was swelled. I felt nothing but love for the first time someone chose me, loves me. I wasn't an option. I was a need. "I'm so glad you chose me or tseg." Hearing that, he laughing pulling me closer if that was possible. "I never liked tseg baby, she is a worker at my company that'd all. If anything, I had my eyes on you since you walked into the building." Similing in pure joy, I leaped forward, causing a groan to come of his mouth. Scared I hurt him, I tried to get up until he forced my hips back down. It was then I realized I hadn't hurt him. In fact, the moment u felt something hard poking me thigh, I blushed.

"How in the world did you get hard, sir?" He simply smiled at my words, moving me forward to the point where I was sitting directly on top of his hard on. My core pushed further into it slowly until he began grinding me against him. I couldn't help but moan. It all felt too good. "Have you seen my beautiful girlfriend sitting right on top of me in nothing but my shirt? If anything, it was difficult not to." Moans slipped from my mouth before I could let out a sarcastic response. Finally, I said the words I had been so afraid to ever tell anyone. "I love y-you." Hearing this, he sped up my hips against his, leaning in to capture my lips into a kiss. "I love you more, baby." We continued until we were left naked and bare before each other, and all the insecurities, abandonment issues, and pain left my mind. Leaving nothing but si-o. The night was a night to remember.

Stay tuned for chapter 3.

[mingiswow]

Chapter 01

CW: hate speech; hate comments; mentions of sexual assault; mentions of homelessness; mentions of drugs; mentions of eating disorders and diet culture, commentary on the industry, YN is introduced as mixed-race, half being Korean, and the other part is never mentioned.

YN's POV

“Soloist yn yln was recently seen at a restaurant in Hongdae with k-hiphop rising star Lee Ryuk” “The love is in the air: yn yln was spotted in Hongdae with Lee Ryuk” “More than just a song, yn yln and Lee Ryuk were seen together in Hongdae this weekend” 1. [+568, -0] Wow I can’t believe they are together. She's so much better alone. He’s just not worthy of her. 2. [+499, -5] yn and Ryuk are great singing together but I don’t want them to be dating.  3. [+486, -0] I just can’t accept that she did that to us! Ryuk is not good for her! 4. [+320, -67] You are all complaining about Ryuk but he’s the best thing yn could get. She’s just famous because she’s the niece of a Chaebol.  5. [+309, -0] Ryuk is not a good man. He smokes and drinks like an old man, yn deserves someone much better and that will treat her right. I bet it is fake. 6. [+225, -6] yn is a grown woman and she can do what she wants but that doesn’t mean I agree with her choices, she deserves so much more than a man-child like him. He mocked a lot of people before and was not held accountable. I don’t believe yn would date him. 7. [+175, -0] I won’t be a yn fan anymore if she confirms to be dating Lee Ryuk. I don’t want to be connected to these types of people.

My manager sighed by my side, her nails insistently tapping on her phone screen, probably dealing with my problems.

“Can you stop reading those stupid comments?” she spoke, her eyes still glued to her phone. The woman didn't even have to turn to you to know what you were doing. 

“I’m being massacred by a relationship that is already over” I turned my head to the window, watching as the quiet morning started to slowly awake. The buzzing started to slowly increase as people started to leave their houses for work. Seoul waking up.

Then there was silence, a quiet agreement between us both that I needed my space and peace before having to deal with the storm of fans outside the music show studio.

My mind was racing with thoughts. I felt guilty, ashamed, embarrassed. All my company’s staff worked hard for me to be where I was in my career; all for me to ruin it because of a shitty fuckboy, because I was dumb enough to fall for his words and charm. 

My management company was nicer than most of the ones in the business, allowing me to be - somewhat - free since I was their biggest name. My albums, shows and merch being their biggest source of income. 

I met Ryuk when we collaborated on one of his songs. He was the rapper, and I was the soothing voice on the chorus and bridge. He was a very talented man, one or two years younger than me, and having debuted a few months more than a year ago. He was nothing but nice, sweet and kind to me, saying romantic and flirty stuff all the time, treating me like a princess. So, me, being the hopeless romantic that I am, fell for him, blinded by all his red flags. 

Ryuk liked to play it cool to the public eye, saying stuff just for the clout, and acting like someone he did not seem to be. Not that I didn’t do that, it was part of our job after all, playing an act for the people who watched us. But his problem was that he was getting more and more problematic with his words. And the worst part was that his company was encouraging him.

Then he started to act like that with me after a few months of dating, showing his true self, ditching our dates - that it took us weeks of preparing since our schedules were always so full - to go out for smoking and drinking with his friends, coming back to my apartment completely drunk and high, asking for things I wasn’t comfortable to give him yet. Not that I was a virgin, it was that I wasn’t comfortable enough with him to do it.

The final drop was when one night he appeared in my apartment out of his mind trying to force me to sleep with him and when I refused he started yelling, spitting at me that I was a prude, then I was a whore, the throwing a bunch of gifts I had just received from my fans on the ground and walls, breaking and destroying them.

Last night we finally met at the same restaurant where he asked me to be his official girlfriend almost a year ago. I forgot to make a reservation so our table was a little visible from the windows, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to end all of this. So I did. I broke up with him and I was really glad I did in a public setting, otherwise, he would probably throw a tantrum. He just resumed his madness sending me a fudging paragraph of a text message, and proceeding to wait for my reaction. The text was far from nice, saying all the worst things and calling me all the worst names someone I thought once loved me could say. But I guess it’s better being written than screamed at my face in front of a bunch of unknown people.

I was so out of my mind, and, not gonna lie, relieved, that I failed to notice the crowd of fansites and paparazzi waiting for us outside the restaurant when we left. I just wanted to leave that place, to go back to my apartment and cry like a little kid in the arms of my manager. No. To cry like a grown woman who had her heart and trust broken.

“The director said we can have a meeting after the recording, is that okay?” I hummed confirming, still not looking at the woman by my side. “YN, sweetie, I know it’s a hard thing for you but soon a new scandal will appear and everyone will forget it” her soft hand caressed the top of my head and down my arms, squeezing my hand warmly.

“I know. I just feel so… disappointed in myself” I turned my attention finally back to her and met her motherly expression looking at me. “All the signs were there and I still chose to ignore it. I’m sorry”.

“Don’t be” Jiah shook her head, her smile never disappearing. “If the director says anything to you, I’m here to defend you, ‘kay? You’re my little girl and I’ll fight for you with my life” I chuckled and nodded, laying my head on her shoulder and letting a few teardrops fall.

Being a soloist was hard, especially after leaving my previous small company when the failed group I debuted in disbanded for an even smaller one. And even more, being a mixed-race idol. But I didn’t give up. I couldn’t give up. Not after so much work put on it. It was my biggest dream, even if that meant I’d have to go under extreme diets, plastic surgery, and training sessions that would last longer than my body could stand.

But I was lucky enough to be found and signed by my current company, they were far from my previous one. And the other ones around. They didn’t pressure me both physically and mentally, they wanted me to be true to myself and my art, wanted me to make good music, with soul, purpose. In the beginning, I didn’t debut per se, I was launched as a regular Korean singer,  outside the k-pop industry. The company, and myself included, didn’t mind if I stayed in the indie valley of Korean music, being known only inside the country, but after my first EP and music video as a solo artist was released, I regained a lot of my fans back, as well as new ones that truly enjoyed my music. I was praised by netizens and music websites articles for my raw and emotional music, which I always proudly said I was the one writing and even helping produce. 

After a few more releases, I was finally invited to participate in my first music show stage.  The rest was just a huge domino effect. Music shows, comebacks, officially being part of the K-Pop Industry™, participating in variety shows, and even having my own vlog series on my YouTube channel.

Me, my company, and all the staff were really happy with my success because they didn’t know if I was going to make it further than a few music shows appearances due to the way I was free to be the most of myself. Truth be told, the industry is merciless, those who don’t look the same, act the same, and even sound the same are ostracized, judged, bullied. I saw some of the prettiest people in the country being bullied online for such stupid things, things that did not make sense anywhere else but this industry. But I made it, I was the point outside the curve, the spark of hope for a change in the business, a role model for girls and boys who looked just like me.

The buzz of the city started to fade in the background as the loud screams of fans outside the studio started to increase closer and closer I got from it. I felt my hands clammy with anxiety, the rate of my heart increased absurdly fast and my breath become quick, short and shallow.

JIah was the first to leave the car, the square sunglasses framing her face perfectly as she walked with her perfect posture, making her look even more professional, and dare me say, scary. She was respected and loved among my fans, everyone knew how hard she worked for me and I always made sure to thank her every time I had the opportunity.

I took a few deep breaths before leaving the black car, shaking my head trying to make the bad thoughts go away and just focus on my fans and performance. As soon I left the car, I was flooded with even louder screams and flashing lights everywhere I looked. If there I was something I would never get used was the camera flashes going off all at the same time. They blinded me and made my head hurt, it even became a joke among my fans that from ten pictures taken of me, nine I would have my face scrunched or my eyes closed.

I bowed and waved to my fans, loads of them holding signs and gifts. I looked over at my manager who bowed her head and I went to talk to the people gathered in the cold air to get a chance to see me. Even after all these years, I still don’t get used to the fact that these people came to see me, to support me and my art. I smiled happily as I signed their albums, pictures, and notebooks, took some selfies with them, recorded special videos for their friends who couldn’t be there. 

I was really glad none of them brought the Ryuk issue up, only asking questions about my music, my comeback, if I had eaten or drunk coffee already, or even saying loving words about my work.

I made a few more poses for the ridiculous amount of cameras before bowing and sending flying kisses to the people and entered the studio, the warmth of the place’s heating system embracing me like a plush comforter was wrapped around my shoulders.

My lungs took the deepest breath I could, the anxiety slowly fading and taking place by another type of anxiety, this one more manageable and already known to my body.

“YN~ssi, please follow me” a girl a few years older than me, and a face of a few friends, called for me and my team. I followed her suit as I bowed and smiled at the other staff and a few other idols I met on the way, making sure everyone was treated equally. “Your performance is in a bit more than an hour, I’ll be calling you fifteen minutes before you go up on stage, make sure to be ready on time” I nodded and she left the room.

“She could at least pretend” Jiah spoke as the door closed in front of us, going straight to the table of goods. I always wondered if the other groups had the same table as me, and if they had, if they were allowed to eat. “Ugh! I love mubank so much, they have the best coffee” the woman grabbed two of the paper cups, giving one of them to me, which I gladly accepted.

After a few sips of coffee, my team finally started to work their magic on me as one of them recorded me for my vlog. 

My concept for this comeback was easily on the list of my favorite ones, it was very colorful, almost decora-like, inspired by the aesthetic of the early 2000’s. My hair was painted in a beautiful pastel shade of pink with half of my bangs and a single thick strand of hair in the front dyed blue. My hairstylist put it up in two high pigtails braided with extensions to make them look fuller and longer. I loved this look so much, It made me feel like a teenager again, being a little rebellious and experimental with my fashion and hair.

When I first debuted I was only sixteen, practically a child, with a mind even younger and immature due to years of training and lack of social interactions outside the company and the girls who would later debut with me. I wasn’t fully aware of the implications of our concept back then, I was just happy that I managed to debut. Being the maknae, I was constantly babied by the girls, the company, and our fans. But some of the fans - especially older men - were very… creepy, to say the least, with me. Both in person and online. I remember being scared of going to fan signs and fan meetings. And reading the things they’d say about me and my body online always made me sick, I hated it. But the company used me and my popularity among those men to the group’s advantage. As the comebacks passed, my clothes started to get smaller and smaller, to the point where my safety shorts were appearing. The choreographies became more explicit and sexual, and I felt like my parts, the ones where I was the the center, were even nastier. 

But, to my company's dismay, that didn’t stop your group from flopping. Two of the girls left due to unfair treatment and payment. They tried to replace them by putting three new members but only a few months after that one of the new girls got involved in a drug and cheating scandal and was kicked out of the group. The company started to treat us badly, not promoting us properly, and abusing us both mentally and physically, until the only two other original members besides me placed a lawsuit against our manager, an old disgusting man, who assaulted us. I didn’t have the money to pay a lawyer to sue them, but I got happy like I did when they won the case. The group was then disbanded and the company shut down.

After that, I felt lost, terrible, useless. I lost all my sense of self. That group was everything I had, everything I was. Without them, who was I? What I was going to do from then on?

For months, I used the little money left to stay at cheap hotels and look for places to work as I also looked for open auditions for other companies. I got severe allergies and rashes from bed bugs and other microscopic beings living in those old beds. I tried to reach what was left of my family but nobody answered, not that I expected them to, but it never hurts to try. 

After all my money was gone, I spent a few weeks going from house to house of my former members, who I still kept and keep contact with, but they also had their issues and I didn’t want to bother them any further. 

Then an angel appeared in my life. Jiah. She met me at my most vulnerable moment. I was sick, anemic, starving. I was living on the streets when she found me and recognized me. Jiah then took me to her house and gave me a warm shower, warmer food, and even warmer clothes. At the time she had a boring office job and was struggling with her at-the-time fiancé. She asked for a sign, something that showed her she needed to change, to leave everything behind and start all over. She considered me her sign. So, after that, she left her fiancé, and figured out she was lesbian, and all that pent-up anger inside her was her internalized homophobia crushing her. She left her job and started to work freelance for some of her previous clients. The real change came when I asked her to become my manager after I signed my new contract. 

Since then, she’s been by my side, being the manager I always needed and the mother I always wanted. 

“Fifteen” I heard the staff’s voice from before sound from the door, awakening me from my trip to memory lane. I was so lost, so disassociated from reality that I even realized I had my hair and makeup done, as well as dressed up.

“How long was I out for?” I asked Jiah, her eyes never leaving her tablet, already used to my moments of introspection. 

“Almost an entire hour” she answered and turned to look at me. “Try not to disassociate when doing other stuff, doll” she winked and nudged my side with a smirk, my cheeks heating at her comment. “Let’s go before I have to deal with that girl again”. 

We both left the dressing room and were met with another group in front of your door coming back from their performance. Their hairs were sweaty, falling to their faces and some of them had even taken part of their outfit off. I saw a camera behind them before bowing politely since they were my sunbaes, well, at least from my solo debut perspective. I excused myself before leaving for my performance but not without noticing a few murmurs and noises from the boys getting behind.

“I think you have famous fans” I jokingly slapped Jiah, giggling as I felt my cheeks heat a little.

Taglist: @venusmoonxnight @hanstarrs @mrskill2 @cupidcures @yoontaethings

[smallestapplin]

A hero’s journey

Note : this was written by @bellafragolina who asked me to post it here, so please direct all love to her!

Cw : angst, blood, major death. No spoilers.

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Link can see memories in your eyes. The tears that stream down your face each have a moment captured in their sparkling reflection.

He sees you, sat next to the fire with the old man, a guitar splayed across your lap. Your face was smooth and curious, and you understood his confused signing. You translated for him, and at the behest of the old man, followed him around as he discovered the plateau and worked through the shrines.

You marveled at the abilities of his Sheikah Slate always made him smile. The powers of the runes were magnificent, but Link didn’t feel the same wonder as you. Which is what made you so interesting to him. You weren’t from Hyrule, you had explained. His amnesia paired with your foreignness made you both a strange pair, but Link liked you. And you liked him, just him, even after discovering who he was from the old man.

Link sees your face scrunched in concentration. He’s pressed against you, teaching you to hunt. You weren’t the best with a bow or a sword, but Link was patient, and you were determined to learn. And you let him get close, let him discover how to touch someone again, how to pinch strangely rounded ears and grab hands. And you showed him how to be touched. Your fingers in his hair, legs pressed against his whenever you sat, your body near his for warmth through chilly nights.

You let him lie upon your chest. Link fell in love with your heart around the same time he fell in love with you. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, but you lifted it with ease, letting him find peace and relaxation and true rest in your arms.

Link’s arms tremble, struggling to hold you upright. His hands are sweating, and shaking. They’re red, stained by you, staring at him with those eyes full of every moment you’ve ever had with him.

You’re only still standing thanks to the sword still glowing within your chest, perfectly piercing. Link can’t find it in himself to move, to look away from your face as the darkness, the Calamity flakes away like dried blood in the water he’ll desperately scrub his arms clean in.

Your eyes carry each night spent tangled together. Each battle is spent back to back, you shooting while he fights with sword and shield. They hold the unveiling of the Master Sword, how you held him after the sword nearly killed him.

Your pride, your kindness, your love, all of it pours from you, onto Link.

The moment everything is clear, the moment you are you again, Link pulls the sword back. It makes a horrible, wet noise as it slides out of your chest. You collapse to the ground like a rag doll. Link tosses the Master Sword aside without a care, racing to kneel at your side.

A pool of blood immediately forms beneath you. Link is digging bottle after bottle from his Sheikah Slate inventory. Fairies spill out into the air, their pink dust frosting over your scrunched face. You’re gasping for air, choking on the potions Link pours down your throat.

But the wound won’t heal.

Link cradles the back of your neck, another bottle at your lips. He doesn’t remember feeling so scared before, so helpless, hopeless.

“Sor-ry.” His raw throat grinds out, desperate for you to know that this isn’t what he wanted. He wanted his house in Hateno to be filled with your dumb jokes and laughter. He wanted roughhousing and kisses and love. You taught him about those things.

Kisses in the dark, comforting and new and scary and good. Hugs and bodies intertwined, no expectations but to stay and to hold. He wanted a wedding like Bolson’s, eventually. He wanted to confirm to you that yes, he loves you. He has all this time, and he wants to love you properly now.

So many plans, so many dreams.

And now you lay bleeding out on the ground because he couldn’t protect you.

Promises of ‘together’ fall away, slipping out of his grasp as you spit up blood and potion, red red red all over.

You must be suffering, his failures weighing heavier on you than anyone. You, who shouldn’t even be here, who was dragged here because of him. Link whimpers your name as you smile.

You smile, and Link loves you desperately.

But love is not enough this time. And even as Zelda places a hand on his back, body still warm from heavenly power, Link feels devoid. All is gone.

All he cared about, anyway.

[softlyapocalytpic]

I feel like I remember a post going around a while ago about the inherent tragedy of Fallout 4 and the anti-climax that is Finding Shaun and- I just can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t.

(Going under a cut because this post got away from me LMAO)

It’s a tragedy. Your son is a cold horrific monster of a man who looks at people as experiments over being people. He’s egotistical to the point of thinking of himself as somehow larger than life- not quite godly, but something more adjacent to that- because of his control over life. *Because of how they groomed him to be. He was never allowed to be a “normal” kid. The Shaun we meet is doomed, hopeless, and it’s… heartbreaking. That’s your son and.

And he’s dead. He dies no matter what faction you choose. There’s no chance for true reconciliation.

(*There’s something to say about the parallels between Shaun and Maxson as characters that I’ve talked about to others in the past but still sticks with me. Not the post for it necessarily, but I wanted to mention it.)

For me personally, the ending of Fallout 4 wasn’t victorious, it was hollow. Now, part of that is definitely influenced by what I was going through at the time, but it has stuck with me how the only lights of hope I felt were… well it was Deacon. He made it less empty. Made it feel like it meant something good.

I didn’t like pushing the button though. I thought about all the shit that could’ve taken from Institute and used for the wasteland for something good. Thought about Shaun. Thought about how I couldn’t truly say goodbye to him. Felt like I was playing out the motions, and that fucking slideshow did nothing to help the hollowness.

It’s not victorious. But then we keep going anyway. There is still work to be done. And there’s companions to keep you company, to make the world a little brighter.

And Jesus Christ I love that fucking game. I love the sandbox and I love the way that when it hits? It fucking hits.

And guess what! Fallout 3? Fallout 76? Also fucking tragedies.

Sure, Broken Steel brings the LW back from the dead, but Lone died even if Lone isn’t “dead”. The slideshow still plays. You wake up and suddenly aren’t dead, but you should be. You should be. You, a nineteen year old kid were tasked with being a martyr. Sarah is pissed off when you ask her to do it. It should be you in the eyes of the narrative. You should be the one bearing the weight of martyrdom. Follow in your Father’s footsteps.

Fallout 76? I… your nuking the Appalachia repeatedly. Everything is gone by 2277. The bright future meant to rejuvenate the Wasteland ends up destroying it. Idfk what else there is to say on that front.

And these are just… the main Bethesda titles. 1, 2, and NV are arguably in the same boat but there’s a bit more in the sense that… well for those ones it’s much more about the “you’ve won, but at what cost?”. In the original Fallout, and let’s say you take the (I think more popular route) of talking to the Master rather than fighting him: you watch someone realize the weight of the atrocities they’ve committed, realize they had no purpose, and then kill himself and everyone there after you personally have gone through actually psychic hell to approach him. Then, you get kicked out of your only home you’ve ever known!

Fallout 2? You home is decimated, your people traumatized, and you must rebuild it from the ground up. You defeated the Enclave, but they took something from you that can’t be replaced or forgotten.

New Vegas… god there’s so much there and there’s another point I want to make to this post- make I can make it feed into this but- the Mojave gets ravaged by war. No matter who wins, atrocities will continue to have been done and to be committed. There’s deadly forces on the horizon who don’t give a SHIT about this petty war and the fucking dumb politics of these major powers. It will hit any faction hard and unmercifully. And there was still a war that consumed an entire land. So companion has a truly “happy” end. They’re all scarred and broken and have to make peace with the path they’ve chosen. People win, but they don’t win, y’know?

And I wish- as much as I love these tragedies- I wish there was more… hope. I wish that the world of Fallout allowed the brightness to shine through a little brighter. To allow the people who try to rebuild into something new to be more successful, to be allowed to take the narrative into their hands, bECAUSE HOLY FUCK DOES THIS DARK ASS WORLD HAVE SO MUCH MORE HOPE THEN ITS EVER GIVEN CREDIT FOR.

Begin Again is a rallying cry for me. The end of Lonesome Road, if you spare Ulysses, is a rebellion against the fucking cycle of violence and hatred. You want to BUILD something. Create rather than just regurgitate the old world into something more twisted than it’s corpse.

Surviving the purifier? Rebelling against the notion that you must die, that you must be a martyr, taking your life into your own hands? Watching a source of clean water be handed out for free and spread across the Wastes? Fucking! Breathing new life into Harold and so he breathes new life into the Earth?

Living even though you’ve lost all your family? Getting a new one in the people who follow you? Helping people rebuild the Commonwealth after it’s been terrorized and destroyed? Leaving this world stronger and safer then when you came into it?

Honestly- this post got away from me. @persephotea got me in my Fallout 4 thoughts (of which I have so many and they’re always trying to burst out of me) and I got to thinking about what I try to write about in my fics. Hope. Hope, hope, hope.

I choose a kinder Fallout world not because I’m trying to soften the edges, but because I want to believe that humanity has such an ability to be kind if it chooses to. That a world ravaged by destruction would CHOOSE kindness and growth. That despite all the darkness and selfishness, people would choose to Begin Again.

It’s all a fucking tragedy, but that’s only if the cycle continues. We can change it. We can end it. Just gotta choose to do it.

If you got this far, thank you for reading my tired thoughts and please please please share yours. I want to hear your thoughts so bad. Okay okay, I’ll post now.

[mikhardwheat]

Eddie learns who the well-known “babysitter” is.

Eddie: hey, so I was wondering, who is your "babysitter", as you say, because it never came to my mind, how can you all have one babysitter and aren't you, like, too old to have someone looking for you for money Lucas: he isn't getting paid Eddie: what Mike: he's basically volunteering as our chauffeur Dustin: he asked me once if we're going to pay for his fuel Lucas: not happening Mike: wasn't he the one who offered? Lucas: yeah, we didn't even ask for it Dustin: it was months ago, he didn't bring it up since Lucas: he probably just tried to be funny, man is hopeless Mike: tell me you laughed, because he'd try to make the same joke again, just to prove something Dustin: no, I didn't Eddie: so, who is he? They hear some shouting outside, sounds like Erica and someone else are arguing. Lucas: please, not again Dustin: hurry up, before she makes him cry and we all go home on our own Gareth: did this happen before? Mike: not really, but we try not to underestimate Erica Jeff: fair enough They all go outside, Dustin already is annoyed. Steve: are we talking in different languages or something?! Erica: your’s called "dumb and irrational" Steve: how's it me who is irrational? kids aren't allowed to the front seat Erica: says who? Steve: the law?? Erica: excuses, excuses Steve: what can be a possible reason for me to make this up? Erica: others are kids too, you let them sit there Steve: they are older, and we don't have enough space in my car for y'all to be in the back Erica: someone can use your trunk Steve: no. Erica: why not Steve: because we have enough seats, and if someone is going to the trunk, it is you Erica: that's discrimination. Steve: no, that's because you're sho- They notice other members of Hellfire club, standing silently not far away. Steve's expression immediately changes. Steve: hi, guys, how was the- Lucas: don't you dare pretend like we didn't see you arguing with an eleven years old just now Dustin, to Eddie: it happens frequently, but we usually don't let them be together for long Dustin: Erica, I own the front seat Erica: didn't know it was signed Dustin: look under, I left a signature ages ago Steve: you did what?? Steve runs towards his car to check out the bottom of the front seat, meanwhile Hellfire club starts saying their goodbyes to each other. Steve: Henderson, I almost had a heart attack, why would you lie about vandalizing my car... Steve looks around, all kids all already in their seats, even Erica. Dustin pushes him away and sits down in his place too, leaving no room left for arguing. Steve sighs, closing the door, and turns towards Eddie, who's still standing, watching them with a clear disbelief behind his eyes. Steve, smiling: kids, amirite? Eddie: Steve: Eddie: Steve, already concerned: dude, you okay? Eddie clears his throat. Eddie: ye- yeah, I'm fine, thanks Steve: well, it's already late, so we should head back Eddie: yeah, you do that Steve: thanks for your permission Eddie: I didn't mean it like... Steve: I know Eddie: so, you are the mysterious "babysitter" I heard so much about Steve: babysi- He looks at the car, full of awaiting kids. Dustin checks time on his wristwatch and Mike sends him glares. He purposefully ignores both. Steve: yes, that'll be me Eddie: cool. Steve: cool. Eddie: see ya later? Steve: I guess? They stare at each other, time's passing. They keep eye contact for half of minute or so. Someone in the car makes a noise, it snaps whatever these two had there going on between them. Steve: bye, Munson. Steve: bye, Harrington. Eddie doesn't move until the car disappears from his sight. Eddie: Eddie: did I really just said "see ya later" to the king of Hawkings?

[arent-i-the-fairest]

𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

the reader suffers the effects of a memory loss potion from an alchemy accident and can’t remember who these once familiar faces are.

⚠️ : angst with no comfort

author’s note : realistically, news of your amnesia would spread like wildfire throughout the whole school and you would get cured pretty much instantly (crowley would rather die than let this get in the hands of the press)— but no need to get all theoretical (´・ω・｀) 

a class full of idiots + dangerous chemicals + said class being left unsupervised = an alchemy incident bound to happen. 

“dude, no! that ingredient doesn’t go with the recipe, what it’ll do is—”

— too late. a thick, strong scented puff of smoke rose from the cauldron. everyone scrambled to cover their faces and sprinted to the opposite side of the room. all except for you, who was too late. you had inhaled too much of it and were feeling strange in a matter of seconds.

your head hurts so bad.

everyone’s stares are burning holes in you, curious what the failed potion had done to you.

raising from your hunched position, you stared right back at them, terrified. you thought out loud, “who are all of you?”

. . .

“… so, who’s gonna tell a teacher what happened to the prefect?” someone asked. dead silence rang across the classroom.

ace trappola

“hey, prefect!!” someone shouted at you. you stepped away from him as he got closer. confused by your reaction, he raises a brow. “what’s goin’ on with you?”

“.. sorry, i think you’ve got the wrong person.”

“huh? of course i got the right person!” he chased you as you walked off. “this is one of your weirdest pranks yet! and distasteful. seriously prefect, amnesia is nothing to laugh about. i’m disappointed, young [man/woman].” he teases, poking your arm.

you stop walking, and he stumbles as he bumps right into your back.

“it isn’t a prank! please leave me alone. you’re really discomforting me,” you hiss, facing him with an irritated expression. you walk off and he’s left all by himself in the hall, the realization that this is serious crushing him.

ace, being ace, doesn’t just sit by. comes up to you everyday and does everything he can think of to get you to remember him. bringing up some of your old adventures, showing you the same dumb magic tricks he always did for you, getting into mischief— all of these not helping at all. it frustrates him, just pushing him more to trying even harder to make you remember him. but with each fruitless attempt, he’s feeling more hopeless. and the feeling is eating at him.

he starts getting restless over this, and it’s easy to notice. those clouded eyes and the bags under them, the way he’s lost his peppy personality, and how he’s just trudging through the day with a smile and more attempts to get you to remember him.

when he’s finally at his wits end, no idea of how to fix your memory loss (or if there even is anything he can do to fix it), he just breaks down in front of you.

“… c’mon, prefect. you and me were so close,” he sniffed. “somewhere in that head of yours has to be some memory of me..”

all you could do was shake your head no and apologize.

“then.. i’ll just have to keep trying! i am not going to lose you.”

deuce spade

he found you stumbling around in the halls. when you met his curious eyes with your own, pure confusion spread across your face. now he’s puzzled too. was there something going on?

“prefect, why are you heading towards the mirror? we’re not allowed to leave yet, the school day isn’t done!” he scolds as he jogs towards you.

“how do you know my name?” you flinch. he skids to a halt at the question, eyes going wide. “i don’t believe i’ve met you before. oh, and by the way, would you mind pointing me to the exit of this building? i don’t know how i ended up here— damn it, i don’t even know where this is!”

“what are you talking about? of course you know this building— and of course you know me! deuce! we’ve known each other for several months now! come here, are you running a fever or something? i told you not to overdo it with the work..” he sighed, extending his hand forward only for you shift back.

“deuce, was it? i assure you, i don’t have a fever. now, i’ll be off.”

“huh? hey, don’t go—!”

deuce handles the situation in a much less constantly-in-your-face, aggressive way than ace. he’s mindful of his behavior around you since he knows you see him as a stranger and it would be strange for you if he treated you as though you were best friends— which you are! but you don’t remember that.

he still hangs around you everyday, trying to bring up and show you things that might make you remember how things once were, asking if any memories have come back to you. he grows more disappointed yet more determined when you tell him nothing’s come to you yet.

no matter how tedious it gets, he always seems to keep going. it’s admirable, but absolutely heart wrenching to watch. all this effort, yet he’s gone nowhere.. and to tell the cold, hard truth, probably won’t end up anywhere.

“you really still don’t remember anything?” he asks sadly, an almost defeated expression on his face. almost.

you shake your head. suddenly, a fierce grin spread over the boy’s face.

“it’s ok, i’ll keep trying! for our friendship! i swear, you’ll get all your memories back, prefect!” he promised, hand over his heart. “i’ll keep trying until the end of time.”

his positive attitude is contagious. you smile and nod, telling him you’re counting on him— but deep down, you’re doubtful. after all, memory loss is not something so simply cured like the poor soul seems to think.

do you have the heart to tell him it’s no use?

[aneenasevla]

Red Velvet - Chapter 1 (part 1)

MasterList / Akane’s profile / Art by @aneenasevla

TIMELINE: this story begins after Cookies'n'Cream and at the same time as Devil's Food. If you haven't read those, I recommend you check them out. This is part 4 of an ongoing series.

Chapter 1 - Hopeless (part 1)

"Huh? Girl, what the hell!", Akane almost screamed into her phone, while talking with her old high school friend. "I was just joking around!"

Her face turned very red. That stupid comment she made on Instagram under a photo her friend had posted was still there and she wouldn't take it back, but hey, people were always saying stupid shit on social media, right?

Yes, the men in that photo caught her attention, and she really liked that hot tanned guy too, but there were at least seven or eight girls asking for his DMs, so as a second option, she turned her attention to the other two, who were as big as gorillas. Apparently the bald one was a famous MMA fighter and she was well aware of how utterly thirsty her friend was for that type of man, so she decided to look at the other one. Blonde, his hair clearly bleached, and a face so dumb-looking that she felt a little sorry for him. Of course, as a joke, she asked for his DMs...

She just didn't expect that her damn comment would be taken seriously.

"Well... that's the problem, Akane. He didn't take it as a joke," Tomori sighs on the other end of the line, sounding a little tired. "Rihito is a very literal guy. Especially when it comes to women. It's been four months and he won't fucking drop it..."

"For fuck's sake… Giiiiirl…," she rubs her face, exasperated. It was her lunch break, so she was eating at a nearby convenience store. "I even forgot about that dude's face, can you believe it? I already have too much on my plate. But is he really bothering you? Tell your pet gorilla to tell him to knock that shit off! Isn't he a badass fighter or something like that?"

"No chance, sis, he’s one of Naoh’s best friends. The most he can do is tell him to leave me alone while I'm in the middle of work. But as soon as I go to sit with them during lunch break, he resumes with his bullshit", She snorts, and Akane can imagine her rolling her eyes. He goes like 'What about your friend, Tomori? Has she made up her mind? Did you give her my number?', and so on. Seriously, I like him, but it's getting really annoying. That's why I decided to end this once and for all and tell you what's going on."

"Holy shit, that sucks", Akane sighs. "It's just that I... I just dumped an idiot, you know who... dipshit wanted something more serious and I really, really didn't, he's a bum and has nothing going on for him, you know... ?," She remembers the fight they had. "Sorry, I don't know if I want an encore for a while. You were lucky, but you know I'm not... and I really doubt that the blonde gorilla can handle a Gyaru..."

"Shit, girl…," Tomori says sympathetically. She remains silent for about two seconds before saying, more quietly, as if she had brought the phone closer to her mouth "Look, if you don't want to, just say so, and I'll tell him to drop it. But...," She hesitates a little. "I don't believe he wouldn't know how to deal with you. He... well, he's a pretty intense guy. Not to say batshit crazy. You had to hear about all the crazy things that Naoh and he were up to, it even involved the police..."

"Oh, hell no… didn’t you hear what I just said?!," She whimpers. "I don't want an idiot who has a history with the damn dogs, Tomori..."

"I know, relax. They've straightened up, I swear," She sighs. "What I'm trying to say is that your lifestyle wouldn't be a shock to this guy, because he's seen and experienced a lot of crazy shit that I can't even name properly, you know?"

"Damn…," she sighs again. In truth, she didn't want to say that it had been a few months since she had kicked her stupid, good-for-nothing fuck-buddy to the curb, but she was still too upset to start anything new... The problem was that she was already feeling the urge, and Papa Satan knew very well the type of woman she was. Hiro, her brother in arms on nights out, knew very well what she was like. "Okay, here's the thing... do you have his Instagram so I can check it out? I want to see if he can make me wanna take off my panties… but hey!," she almost shouts into the phone, as a warning. "I'm not doing this for him, didja hear me? It's only to make him leave you alone, and if you said he can handle me, I'll go all out. I won't hold back on the Gyaru gear. I want to see if he can handle the heat."

"He doesn't have an Instagram account, but I have some photos that I took with them over the months, and others that Naoh sent me. I'll send them to you. And I appreciate it, but seriously, you don't need to force yourself. If you don't want to, just say so, and I'll tell him to knock it off. Rihito is insistent as hell, but he also knows when to throw in the towel," She assures, her voice becoming a little more urgent.

"Wait, what kind of dumbass caveman-wannabe doesn’t have an Instagram account these days? And seriously, what kind of name is Rihito? That's either a really stupid name or a nom de guerre or something. If it's a nom de guerre, I understand, I even think it's cool..." 

A straight man having a nom de guerre... that was news to her. But why "Rihito”? Why a name that literally meant “beyond human reason”?

"He says it's 'social media for sissies’. Yeah, I'll let you know that he's that kind of guy. And he's got a bit better over the last few months," Tomori grunts a little. "And Rihito is his nickname. Or his public identity, as he likes to say. He likes to act like he's a comic book superhero or something. It's cute and kinda ridiculous at the same time..."

"Fuckin' hell, woman, look what you got me into…," Akane lets out a grunt.

"Sorry! I swear I wouldn't even be bothering you if I weren't sick of this. I'm doing this more out of conscience, to make it clear to him that I at least tried, because again, you don't have to accept it," Tomori guarantees, her tone now softer. "I really didn't know about your situation with your fuck-buddy. We've been so out of touch lately, now I'm feeling guilty."

"Relax, honey, I’m also to blame. I've been busy at the beauty salon too. I've also been a little down and I'm not even going out with my friends from the Izakayas anymore. They're all kinda settling down too, since they're all in their late twenties or early thirties. They're becoming like the ladies whose hair I cut and dye in the most boring colors," she makes a theatrical sound of nausea. "Nothing against your hair color, Tomoh, but it's sorta like when you're making your cookies, y'know? Eventually you get tired of seeing them every day... speaking of which, I want a box of 'em. I'll pay you the next time we meet."

"I understand, Kane. I got sick of sweet stuff for a reason, after all," Tomori laughs a little. "And of course, I'll make you a pretty fancy box. I can even offer a discount, to compensate for the trouble... oh, shit, me talking like that makes it seem like going out with him would be fuckin' torture," She laughs more.

"I'm a warrior, my dear. You know about my battles and my scars'', which were almost metaphorical, of course. She prided herself on having very good skin, thank you very much. "I endured gaslighters and even stalker threats... what's a gorilla compared to that?"

She laughs loudly. "Yeah, ​​I know all about your struggles, hahaha! And yes, he is a gorilla. A gorilla plush, in this case. He's pushy and very inconvenient, but a really nice guy once you get to know him better. He wouldn't be one of my boyfriend's best friends if that weren't the case," Akane could almost hear her smiling fondly.

"Hnf… I can only believe it when I see it, so send me those damn pics. Don't say anything to him yet, I don't promise anything either. If there's one that shows his pants, I want it too. Gotta check it out to see if it's worth it...," she laughs quietly. "My lunch break is almost over, so I'll see it later. Then I'll give you an answer, okay?"

"Okay, I'll send it as soon as I hang up. The first one will give you a good idea of ​​the quality of this specimen. The four of them took it on a day when they decided to go fishing, so clothes were a bit unnecessary, haha. The others were on nights I went out with them, casual things... and...," She now hesitates a little. "Please, don't think that this is me trying to pressure you, but... send your answer as quickly as possible, please. If I have to hear one more "what about your friend, Tomori?", I'll be forced to commit murder, which will really harm my criminal record and probably cost me a relationship, haha."

"I'm an expert on this matter and I can say that you can claim self-defense in court!," she laughs loudly, snoring a little. "Okay, I got back to the salon and my boss is already glaring at me, so I'm going to hang up. Send those pics and I'll make my decision. A punch in your eye and a kiss on your check, honey! Bye!," She hangs up.

It doesn't take long for her to hear the sound of notifications coming in, indicating that Tomori had wasted no time and was already sending her the photos. The poor thing must have been really desperate to get rid of that Rihito guy. She takes advantage of the fact that she didn't have any clients at that time and opens the photos Tomori sent her, making a discredited pout. The Gorilla type was a kind of bodybuilder who worked out to get strong, on any and every body part that there was to work on, and they ended up looking like a Hulk wannabe. The Okubo guy, who her friend menaged to put in a leg lock, was that type of man, and with excellence. He was easily almost seven feet tall, which made her wonder, with some hilarity, how they managed to fuck without him having to contort himself like a pretzel. The second one in the right corner of the photo was the hot tanned guy who had made every single woman in their social circle wet their panties. He wasn't a mountain of muscles like Tomori's boyfriend, but he had his own defined biceps, triceps, chest and abdomen to show off, accompanied by a tanned skin that would make most of her Gyaru friends jealous. The third, on the far left, was the smallest of the four, and despite appearing to be pretty fit, he was nowhere near as large as his fishing companions. His straight black hair, his affable expression and his fox-like eyes gave him a somewhat intellectual air; most likely the brains of that group. And the last one, right next to Okubo…

"Gorilla" was certainly an appropriate definition. He was huge. Really huge, with a broad chest where you could bury your face in and stay there until you suffocated, and if you tried to escape, the absurdly muscular arms wouldn't allow it. His six-pack would give Tomori's boyfriend's a run for its money. His face at first glance wasn't anything special (the tanned guy was by far the most handsome of the group, there wasn't any doubt), but his eyes were big, green and very expressive. They showed a somewhat smug happiness as he lifted the huge fish by the fishing line, which seemed to weigh nothing to him.

"Hnmm…," she licks a little of the lollipop she had bought to accompany the tedious afternoon that would be the second half of her working day. She zooms in on the photo, wanting to see a specific part better…

And those stupid baggy swimming trunks didn't show much. Damn it. Normally she was good at figuring these things out. But it seemed proportionate, which left her giving it the benefit of doubt. Yeah... he seemed like her type. He could even become a nice fuck-buddy... she checked the other photos. They didn't have much focus, but they confirmed that she needed to see it in person to know... he had a nice ass too; apparently someone also worked well on that. She looked at a photo with another guy with wavy black hair, and she got a little interested, but she looked away as soon as she saw him sitting with his arm around the shoulders of another friend of hers. Oh, so Kanami the Butch got herself a boyfriend too? Attagirl! And a hot one too… she nodded in approval. Okay, back to the blonde guy.

After a thorough analysis, she shrugged. Yes, he was her type, in addition to having a nice body. He also seemed kinda cute and practically had “idiot” written all over his face. Just the way she liked it. She starts to tip a response.

Panther:

Verdict: he'll do

hey wolfie, tell this guy I wanna test him

but if he complains about my style, I'll kick him to the fuckin curb

also, you said rihito isn't his real name, right? 

what's this specimen called?

Wolfie:

you're completely within your rights, panther! 

but I don't believe he'll do that, he likes women who aren't afraid to show their bodies

naoh almost punched him once when he caught him looking at my legs lmao

and his name's ichiro 

nakata ichiro

but he prefers the nickname

again, superhero with a secret identity

kinda cringe xD

Panther:

I told ya, if it's a nom de guerre, I'm cool with it

I have one after all

still, don't send him my number yet

from what I know about this guy, he'll probably keep sending me dick pics 

no matter how much I wanna see it, it's still gross, c'mon

Wolfie:

I didn't give him your number for that very reason 

he'd definitely call you a hundred times and send you some gross stuff

but he calmed down when I suggested he make an instagram account to talk to you 

fragile masculinity, imma right?

Panther:

oh boy... I foresee some debates, and not the good kind...

sheesh, here comes a old hag for us to salvage

sort everything out for me and I'll give you a really nice trim as a thanks 

what do you say? 

afterall you now have a human king kong to impress

Wolfie:

girl, I love you so much! 

I'm in! 

and yes, he loves to run his hands through my hair, so it's good to keep it nice and smooth hahaha

they're coming back from their trip in a couple of days, so I'll give them the news 

you can choose the best day for the date

Panther:

any weekend is fine

I have nothing scheduled, not even for the holidays, so it's up to you

just remember that it’s almost winter, so I wanna go somewhere warm, for god’s sake.

Wolfie:

leave it to me!

now I'm gonna let you do your thing

 I know that's a lot of work hahaha

I'll send you a message when I sort everything out with him

I just have to let you know

I wasn't exaggerating when I said he's intense

he's the clingy type, and is kinda difficult to push him away

so, if you need to, put your foot down 

he's a bit clueless but he understands what ‘no’ means

Panther:

sweetheart, you're talking to a professional

get a grip

and I'm in the mood for a physical dude

mama’s gonna eat good 🍑🍑

Wolfie:

LMAO 

yeah, I know you

but I'm warning you for a reason

he's really strong

like, REALLY strong

so you better lay your boundaries from the beginning

cause if he grabs you, it will be difficult to get out of his hug lol

Panther:

bitch you're scaring me a little here

do you want me to fuck him or not?

"Tomori, I need help at table three...," Kanami's voice echoes from the counter, arriving in the kitchen and turning down the volume "There's a group of teenagers here and a young Gyaru here who eats like a freakin' pig... Sounds like my boyfriend, I swear…"

Tomori laughs loudly "Okay, Kanny, I'm gonna help you with Ohma's clone!," She calls over her shoulder before finishing typing her answer on the phone.

Wolfie:

go ahead, I said he's nice, and he is

it's just that I worry about how you'll feel, considering you just came out of a bad situationship

and he may not understand that at first

he's a nice guy but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed

Panther:

girl, don't rain on my parade 

let me have a taste first

I'm a pro, I'll fold him like a napkin, trust me

now bye, go find something else to do

And her icon went offline.

Tomori sets her phone aside and gets up from the table with a sigh. Well, her part was already done. Rihito was going to owe her a big one. She worries for a few seconds, wondering if that was a good idea. But she didn't fear so much for her friend. She feared more for her boyfriend's friend. He had no idea who he was messing with... but perhaps an experience with the fierce predator that was Agata Akane was what that dumbass needed.

…

"Wait, really, babe?," Okubo blinks, while they were returning home, after he sent the other three idiots away and picked her up from work. "You really convinced your friend to go on a date with him?"

"I did. Even I'm finding it hard to believe that it worked!," She widens her eyes at him, an arm around his waist while he rests his on her shoulders. "Do you remember that post I made on Instagram, a few months ago, with that photo we took that Saturday? The five of us, after we left the market."

"Yeah, I remember. And I also remember what happened a few weeks later. Rihito spent fuckin' forever talking non-stop, and on the second weekend we beat his ass because we were fed up. I even left him limping, so he got the message, hahahaha! But yeah, he even said this chick's name, Akane. He kept bothering Himuro to look at her profile and everything. That was the last straw, dipshit refuses to make a profile and wants to invade her DMs with other people's accounts. Can you believe it?"

"That's so mean, Naoh, hahaha!," She laughs loudly, resting the side of her head on his chest. "But yeah, he deserved it. Akane thought that his beef with Instagram was stupid, but she overlooked the rest. Lucky him," She shakes her head. "I swear to you, love, I only did it because he wouldn't stop bothering me. Every single day! All I had to do was sit down to have lunch with you guys and he would start talking his ass off! I was almost beating him myself, sorry about that."

"No, relax. I was actually hoping that next time you would bring your baseball bat because I’m fed up too. But the hardest part will fall on your friend's shoulders, you know, he could do something stupid and she would run away from him like the devil runs from a cross."

"Oh, you don’t have to worry about that…," She smiled at him, and that smile was sharp, almost dangerous. "Akane isn’t the type to run away like that. It's the others who run away from her. Rihito is going to be in for a real surprise, trust me."

"Hnmmm...," he didn't seemed very convinced. "Look Tomori, I don't know... I've seen Rihito go after lots of women, in all shapes and sizes, and... it's kinda sad, actually. He really doesn't know how to behave around women. I mean, he was even worse than me, he only behaved a little when we were all together and...," his eyes widened, and his face lit up. "I have an idea! Tomoh, how about a double date?"

"Huh?," She blinks at him, her mouth opening in surprise. "A double date? Like, you, me and the two of them?"

"Yeah! This way I can hold the idiot back. I mean... with us together, he'll hold his tongue and he won't feel obligated to impress her, you know? Not to mention that if you need to, you can take her to the bathroom and have a chat, then you can give me a hint as to whether everything's going well or not. I... I feel like I owe him this one,  y'know..."

"... Oh. You still feel indebted to him, don't you? For what he did after our disastrous first date...," That was now a distant memory that no longer affected her, so she could remember the humiliation of having to deal with a completely drunk Okubo in a public place without it upsetting her. "I understand. I think I would feel the same way. It was because of what he was willing to do that I concluded he was a nice guy after all."

"Yeah… so… do you think it'll work? And...," he pulls her closer to him, smiling mischievously. "I miss you, y'know... after we've both left, we can have some quality time for ourselves too. What do you say?"

She smiles sweetly at him, hugging him sideways, snuggling the side of her head against that broad chest that she loved to use as a pillow. "I was thinking the same. I miss you too... our last outings were to my parents' house, and there I can't cuddle with you the way I like, haha. So yes, it was a great idea!"

"See? From time to time I have some good ideas, I'm not that stupid…," he jokes, smiling at her.

"You're not stupid. You just have a simpler and more direct mentality, and a lot of good things can come out of that. Like now," She jokes too, taking his hand in hers and placing a small kiss on its back.

At that moment they arrive at his car. He opens the door for her, closes it when she gets in and walks around to get on the other side.

NEXT CHAPTER HERE

[bethanydelleman]

Why You Should Read Sense and Sensibility

Working our way up the least popular list...

Sense and Sensibility: A High Stakes Examination of First Impressions

Is Edward Ferrars really just shy, depressed, and in love with Elinor? Or is there something more?

Is Colonel Brandon old, boring, and infirm? Or is that just the opinion of a silly teenager?

Is Willoughby really the man of Marianne’s dreams? What is his true character and why can Elinor not seem to find it out?

Did Mr. Palmer make a mistake when he married his wife? Or is his indifference all a pretence?

Is Mrs. Jennings just a silly, embarrassing, old woman? What possible pleasure could the Dashwoods gain from accompanying her to London?

Is Mrs. Ferrars really that bad?

Are John and Fanny Dashwood really that bad? No, this one isn’t a mystery, it’s established right in Ch 2 that they are the worst!

And then you have Robert Ferrars... why is he so obsessed with bespoke toothpick cases? What is the root of his obsession with cottages? Is he really that dumb? Only some of these questions will be answered...

And why high stakes? Because for the most part, Elinor Dashwood faces all of this alone. Her father is dead, her mother is unconcerned, and her sister is a hopeless romantic. She’s the one left trying to figure everything out and despite her outward maturity, she’s only nineteen years old.

Sense and Sensibility is also a story about two sisters who despite being completely different would do anything for each other.