#im stuck in my sisters room all day trying to find internships or just feeling depressed bc im stuck in a room that doesnt even get light

[soleilstm]

(  jennie  kim  ,  twenty  -  one  ,  &  cis  female  )  who  ?  these  days  ,  it’s  all  about   soleil  ‘ sol ’  ryu   ,  who  comes  from    san  francisco ,  ca   and  is  making  headlines  as  an    actress    .   she  currently  has  a  fan  count  of  38k  ,  no  thanks  to  the  rumors  of  them  being  peevish  !  but  ,  on  the  other  hand  ,  their  most  devout  fans  say  they’re  actually  wilful  .  last  i  heard  ,  they  caused  quite  a  buzz  when  she  got  casted  for  the  lead  role  in  the  next  a24  film  !  it’s  no  wonder  they  remind  me  of   glitter  eyeliner ,  bitten  fingernails ,  the  quiet  grey  before  a  thunderstorm ,  deep  breaths  before  leaving  the  house ,  sickeningly  sweet  fake  laughter  &  the  addictive  flash  of  the  cameras   . 

     hi hi, how are y’all doing ? my name is bea, i’m twenty yrs old, i use she/her pronouns and i’m from the gmt tz ! i’m super excited to be rping with y’all and i hope my brand new muse sol might spark some interest in a few people so we can plot, plot and also plot ! you can find a little bit more about her underneath the cut as well as a couple wcs. if you like this post i’ll assume you want to plot and IM you, so click the heart at your own risk ! x 

statistics.

background. 

the  story  goes  as  following:  man  meets  woman.  both  man  and  woman  are  fresh  out  of  med  school,  trying  to  survive  their  internship  as  the  only  two  immigrant  interns.  they  get  closer  and  closer.  two  years  later,  a  baby  girl  is  born.  she  is  not  who  this  story  is  about.  she  is  the  warning,  to  the  man  and  the  woman.  she  says  ‘  you  are  great  doctors,  but  you  are  not  good  parents.’  sadly,  they  don’t  hear  her,  because  they’re  busy  at  work  while  a  nanny  takes  care  of  her.  she  grows  into  a  lonely  toddler,  until  that  fateful  moment,  at  age  five,  when  the  protagonist  of  this  story  is  born.  they  say  she  cries  and  giggles  in  the  delivery  room,  making  sure  no  one  can  miss  her  or  ignore  her.  even  her  own  mother  can’t  help  but  stare  at  her  scrunched  up  face,  stuck  between  a  frown  and  a  laugh.  they  call  her  soleil,  for  the  sun.  or  sol,  to  her  older  sister,  who  finally  has  someone  to  play  with.  

the  years  pass  the  ryu  family  by,  settling  into  a  peaceful  routine  for  the  most  part.  sol’s  parents  are  at  work,  vying  for  another  promotion.  her  mother,  olivia,  stops  by  the  house  every  once  in  a  while,  because  she  heard  daughters  that  grow  up  without  a  mother  turn  elsewhere  for  attention.  and  really,  she  won’t  have  either  of  them  falling  out  of  track.  there  is  a  path  laid  out  for  them,  of  science  and  medicine  and  upholding  the  family  legacy,  that  she  reminds  them  of  every  time  she  hugs  them  in  that  precise,  medical  way.  sol’s  sister,  rose,  listens  intensily.  sol,  on  the  other  hand,  becomes  very  good  at  pretending  she  is,  as  well.  it’s  all  thanks  to  the  theater  club  she’s  joined,  after  getting  a  half-asleep  signature  from  her  father  on  the  one  day  of  the  week  he  sleeps  at  home.  she  excels  at  it,  forming  her  own  little  world  where  they  can’t  see  her.  except  for  rose,  who’s  determined  to  make  her  care  about  what  their  mother  cares.  so  sol  goes  along,  because  she  doesn’t  want  to  hurt  rose.  she  would  never  do  anything  to  hurt  the  only  sincere  hug  of  her  life.  

but  peace  can’t  last  forever,  and  this  she  learns  on  her  junior  year  of  high  school.  her  mother  finds  her  early  acceptance  to  juilliard  by  accident,  stumbling  home  after  her  congratulations  party  for  becoming  chief  of  surgery.  rose  is  long  gone  by  then,  graduating  top  of  her  class  and  enrolling  in  medical  school.  sol  had  gotten  so  good  at  pretending,  they  all  believed  she  would  follow  suit.  in  that  very  moment,  sol  walks  in  to  see  her  mother  rip  the  letter  to  shreds,  her  face  a  massive  red  welt.  they  fight,  the  entire  night.  her  father  comes  home,  and  they  fight  some  more.  there  is  no  way  she’s  pursuing  this  nonsense.  there  is  no  way  she’s  ever  becoming  an  actress.  no  matter  how  much  she  cries,  cloudy  skies  taking  over  her  delicate  features,  they  don’t  hear  her.  they  never  hear  her.  she  gives  in.  she  accepts  her  fate.  she’ll  follow  rose’s  path,  if  that’s  what  they  want.  they  hug  her,  still  as  mechanical  as  ever,  and  she  goes  to  bed.  the  thing  with  being  as  gifted  as  she  is,  is  that  lying  becomes  an  art  none  of  them  will  ever  appreciate.  so  she  packs  her  bag,  a  hundred  dollars  in  her  pocket,  and  escapes  with  the  moon  high  in  the  sky.  

she  wishes  she  could  say  her  path  after  that  moment  is  without  flaws.  that  none  of  it  involves  days  upon  days  of  couch-surfing,  of  scrambling  for  minimum  wages,  of  terribly  missing  the  life  she  had  before.  at  night,  she  goes  to  sleep  wondering  if  her  dream  is  worth  all  of  this.  and  when  the  sun  rises  in  the  morning,  she  wakes  up  knowing  it  is.

after  that,  she  hustled  doing  a  lot  of  short  films  that  went  for  the  most  part  unnoticed  while  waitressing  on  the  side,  until  one  of  them  actually  made  it  to  a  major  film  festival  where  she  began  to  gain  traction  and  more  movie  roles.  it  wasn’t  until  she  got  the  role  of  joi  in  blade  runner  2049  two  years  ago  that  she  really  made  a  dent  and  got  noticed  by  the  big  producers.  now,  she’s  lives  her  life  day  by  day,  putting  her  work  above  everything.

personality. 

sol  is  the  most  stubborn  person  you’ll  ever  meet.  nothing  can  ever  get  in  the  way  of  what  she  wants,  and  it  doesn’t  matter  how  long  or  how  hard  she  has  to  fight  for  it.  .  .  she’ll  get  it,  in  the  end.  despite  her  confident  persona,  she  is  also  extremely  anxious.  she’ll  always  see  everything  through,  but  she’ll  spend  the  entire  time  imagining  everything  that  could  go  wrong.  it’s  a  part  of  herself  that  stays  perfectly  hidden  behind  gummy  smiles.  she  can  be  unpredictable,  as  well.  her  patience  levels  dim  day  after  day,  and  before  you  know  it,  something  that  made  her  smile  a  week  ago  now  irritates  her  to  no  end.  fame  definitely  has  something  to  do  with  it.  the  more  love  and  admiration  she  receives,  the  harder  she  finds  to  control  her  moods.  basically,  she’s  turning  bit  by  bit  into  a  diva.  right  now,  you’ll  miss  it  if  you  blink.  but  she’s  steadily  running  towards  it.  she’s  an  introvert,  and  though  she  can  carry  a  conversation,  she’ll  need  several  hours  to  recharge  afterwards  from  the  effort.  it’s  common  that  after  shooting  a  movie,  she’ll  retreat  into  her  apartment  for  a  week  or  two  without  contacting  the  rest  of  the  world.

connections. 

i’m  a  lot  more  open  to  either  brainstorming  or  fitting  in  your  wcs  buuut  i  could  see  one  of  these  three  tbqh.  but  like  i  said,  i’ll  mold  into  yours  or  we’ll  make  something  from  nothing  !

childhood friends if  anyone  comes  from  the  bay  area,  maybe  they  let  sol  couch  surf  at  their  place  for  a  while.  they  know  each  other  better  than  anyone  else,  but  it’s  also  something  really  chill  and  sweet.

rivals in  the  industry  could  be  a  lot  of  fun,  as  well.  they’re  always  battling  it  out  for  roles  and  polls  and  all  of  that,  maybe  it’s  positive  and  drives  them  to  do  better  or  maybe  it’s  just  a  lot  of  cattiness  and  low  blows  because  why  not  lmao.

exes, from  the  beginning  of  her  hollywood  chase  and  now  that  they’re  both  rising  it  got  harder  and  harder  to  be  with  each  other  so  they  called  it  quits  for  the  sake  of  their  careers  but  there’s  still  a  lot  of  lingering  feelings  and  jealousy  and  all  that.

[tickle-me-kylo]

Wrong Turn (Clyde Logan x Reader)

6,854 words. NSFW under the line. Also available here on Ao3.  Please leave kudos or comments if you’d like me to continue this plot line. 

Hey, @Clydeloganlogan, I wrote a little story about that time we met, baby!

You were so out of your element.

“Turn right onto Old Farm Road” your GPS instructed. You made the turn and were promptly met with a spray of red clay dirt and loose gravel under your tires. You slowed the car, confused. A dirt road? That couldn’t be right, could it? You quickly swung your rental car around and the GPS tried to recalculate, but... signal lost.

Just great. Lost in the backwoods of West Virginia. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a familiar banjo tune began to play. You flipped on your high beams and managed to find your way back to the main road you had turned off of. But... where were you supposed to go now?

You saw the glow of colored neon in the distance as you rounded a curve. As you got closer, you realized it was a restaurant, or a bar, maybe?

Duck Tape?

What kind of name for a bar was that? You parked your car and grabbed your phone, praying someone in this hillbilly oasis would speak coherently enough to give you directions to the motel. You walked through the door and your senses were immediately overcome by the smell of stale beer, tobacco in several forms, and a hint of cheap cologne.

The moment you stepped inside, every head in the bar turned to look at you. It got noticeably quieter as twenty or so pairs of eyes carefully looked you over, determined you were definitely not from around there, then went back to their conversations.

Wow. Must have been because you missed the memo about it being “dirty overalls and cowboy boots Friday”.

You opted to avoid the tables and booths and decided to tuck yourself into a corner at the bar instead, attempting to be as invisible as possible. Maybe the bartender would be able to...

‘Damn. They grow ‘em big in West Virginia!’ you thought to yourself as you and the extra-large bartender locked eyes with each other for what seemed like an awkward eternity.

He was handsome, with dark hair that was a little too long (but it looked good on him), and facial hair (something else you didn’t normally care for, but on him, it was perfection). He had on an old 70s band T-shirt with a flannel shirt over it, and jeans that were just tight enough to make you notice.

It was his eyes that confounded you. Big and brown, those eyes peered at you now like a scared little kitten. Why in the hell was this Sasquatch of a man afraid of 5’2” you?

“Hi!” You said to break the ice, and you thought you saw him jump a little at the sound of your voice. “Uh... I just drove in from Chicago.I think I’m a little lost? I was trying to find Hwy 5? My GPS crapped out on me up the road from here.”

The bartender just stared. You could have sworn this man’s fight or flight response was attempting to engage.

“Yeah, so...” you continued. “If you could point me in the right direction? Also, I’m starving. Do you guys serve food?”

“Yep.” He replied, and then proceeded to turn and walk away.  You sat for a moment, utterly perplexed, when you heard a chuckle to your right. You turned to the man sitting there, dressed in a grease-stained work shirt and baseball cap.

“Don’t worry about him.” The man said. “That just means he likes you. He’ll be back in a second with the menu.” He stuck out his hand. “Jimmy Logan.” He said. You took his hand and shook it. “The not so jolly giant over there is my little brother Clyde.”

“Little brother?” You said with a laugh. “What does your big brother look like?”

Jimmy pointed at you and slapped the bar as he laughed.

“I like you! You’re funny!” He said, taking a sip of his beer. At that moment, Clyde came back over, menu in hand. He looked at you, then at Jimmy, and back at you, frowned as he slid the menu in front of you, and walked away.

You looked over the menu and settled on some BBQ chicken nachos. Clyde took your order and tapped it into the point of sale computer. That’s when you saw it. Clyde had been holding his left hand behind him slightly since he’d walked over to you earlier, almost as if he had been hiding something. Now you saw why. In place of his left forearm and hand was a high-tech mechanical prosthetic. Jimmy must have seen you staring (although you hadn’t meant to).

“He’s sensitive about it.” Jimmy said. “The hand.” He tipped the neck of his beer bottle towards his brother, as if he needed to clarify who he was talking about.

“That’s understandable.” You replied. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be. He looks like a sweet guy too. Quiet. Does he ever talk?” You asked.

“Lord, yes.” Jimmy retorted with a chuckle, and took another sip of his beer. “There are nights when I wish I could shut ‘im the hell up!”

“Good looking guy, too.” You said under your breath, but Jimmy must have had excellent hearing because he raised his eyebrows at you and grinned. You blushed when you realized you’d been heard.

“Welp, gotta make a trip to the office, then I’m heading home.” Jimmy said suddenly as he got up from his bar stool. He drained the rest of his beer in one sip when he stood, then nodded towards you. “Been nice talkin’ to you, city girl! Be safe out there.”

You smiled at Jimmy and said goodbye. He was halfway to the back of the bar when you realized you still didn’t know where the hell you were!

“Wait, Jimmy!” You called. “Can you give me directions to Hwy 5?” Jimmy turned and smiled and shrugged.

“Clyde’s yer man for directions. Have a good night, doll.”

Clyde was looking at his brother like a deer in the headlights from the other end of the bar. Jimmy just winked at him and tilted his head back in your direction. You smirked. What had that little interaction been about?

In a few minutes, Clyde brought your food.

“So, it’s Clyde, right?” You asked before he could slip away again. He nodded shyly.

“Yep.” He said. “What else did my brother tell ya’?” His drawl was slow and very West Virginian, but every syllable was enunciated as if he had carefully considered each word before speaking it.

“Nothing really,” you replied “other than you’re a nice guy, and you can give me directions to the highway.”

“Well, yeah. I reckon I can.” Clyde said. You popped a nacho in your mouth as he continued. “Where on five are ya’ headed?”

“Comfort Inn motel.” You replied.

“You in town for long?” Clyde asked, and he stumbled on a couple of the words, as if asking that question made him very nervous. You grinned.

“For a week.” You replied. “Visiting my aunt on her farm. I didn’t want to roll in on her so late at night though, so I decided to get a room.” You flushed slightly, feeling like you were oversharing. There was something about Clyde, though. You wanted to get him talking for some reason.

You chatted for a while about the town, and your aunt’s farm. You soon discovered that, just like his brother said, getting Clyde to talk wasn’t that difficult once you had him engaged in a subject he was familiar with. He would chat with you for a while, then go take care of patrons, but as soon as he was done he would quickly make his way back to you.

You noticed the more comfortable Clyde got, the closer he would get to you as you conversed. Soon, he was leaning on his forearms on the bar right in front of you so that the two of you were at eye level. It was then that you realized just how incredibly gorgeous this walking plaid-covered brick wall of a man really was.

As the night became late-night, the bar gradually emptied until it was only you and two or three locals who required little attendance. As you were reminiscing about the tire swing your aunt had put in the big oak tree at her farm (you wondered if it was still there), Clyde came around the bar and took the seat next to you.

“What made you decide to become a bartender?” You asked Clyde. You were playing with the straw from your glass of soda, twisting it in your fingers. You were nervous. No, not nervous. You were... flustered? What was this guy doing to you?

“It was a necessity more’n anything, I reckon’.” Clyde replied. “When I opened this place, it did not occur to me that findin’ a qualified bartender would be s’hard. My sister Mellie makes a dern good cocktail, but her passions lie with hairdressin’, not bartendin’. Not to mention Jimmy near ‘bout killed a guy that popped her on the rear the one night she did work here. So I did the responsible thing as a business owner, and learned to do it my own self.”

“Wait.” You said, an element of surprise in your voice. “You OWN this place? Wow, Clyde, that’s impressive!” You leaned over without even thinking and brushed your elbow against his. The metal of his prosthetic was smooth and cool against your skin. You felt him retract his touch from you slightly, although you could tell it was more of a reflex than a reaction.

“You know what I do?” You asked him. “For a living, I mean.” You glanced at him. He turned his eyes towards you in anticipation.

“I’m a physical therapist.” You continued. “Just finished school last year, but I’ve been working with the VA in Chicago for six months already. I guess you could call it an internship, but I think I’m going to take a permanent position.”

“The VA?” Clyde repeated. “You work with veterans?”

“Every day.” You nodded and smiled. “Where were you stationed?” You were making an assumption, but you wouldn’t have made a bet that you were right.

“Lejeune, in North Carolina.” Clyde confirmed your educated guess. “‘Til I was deployed to Iraq.”

“Semper Fi.” you said in reply, and the look he gave you made something deep inside you quiver. “And at the risk of sounding cliche, thank you for your service.”

“Not at all.” He responded, and his voice was soft. “Knowin’ someone sweet as you appreciates it makes it a little bit easier.” You blushed at his words, although you didn’t know why. What was it with this guy? You decided to steer the topic away from an obviously difficult subject.

"So, um…. I know I'm only in town for a week, but..." you couldn't believe you were about to say what you were about to say to a guy you'd known for only a couple of hours. "Would you go to dinner with me one night? I've enjoyed talking to you, Clyde. I'd really like to get to know you better." "Darlin', I'd go to supper with you every night and twice on Sunday." Clyde replied in earnest, and when you looked up at him, the grin on his face made your cheeks go an even darker shade of crimson. "Got your phone on you?" you asked, and he fished it out of his shirt pocket. It was an ancient model iphone with a crack that ran across the top corner. "I don't have much need for one of them fancy smarty-phones." he said sheepishly when he saw your reaction. "I don't do a whole lotta' callin' or text-messagin'." "Well then," you replied with a gleam in your eye. "Let's see if we can change that."  You opened up his contact app and added your name and number, and then saved it. You leaned over so the two of you could look at the tiny screen together. You noticed that this time, when your arm pressed against his, he didn't draw back. You showed him how to open the contacts, and where you name was, and how to click the icon to call you. "Now watch this." you said.  You showed him how to open the messages app. "Send me a text." He looked at you like you'd just asked him to do the impossible. "Don't you have to have two thumbs to do that?" he asked, and you almost giggled when you suddenly realized he was serious. You smiled at him and shook your head.

"Not at all. Here, let me show you.” You took his phone and put it in his right hand. "You can hold the phone and text with your thumb at the same time." You put your own phone in your right hand and demonstrated, although your tiny hands made it look awkward, and you nearly dropped your phone twice. "Well, you get the idea.  And your hand is..." you stared at his hand and cleared your throat a bit when you realized you were taking a little too long to continue your thought. "bigger...I mean… big.. enough... so that you shouldn't have the same problem as I do.  Give it a try!" "What should I say to ya'?" he asked, and this time you did giggle. "Anything you want! And when you're done, press that little icon right there to send it." He balanced the phone in his hand and used his thumb to type. Damn, he caught on quick. You watched as he worked the tiny phone with skill, and your mind could not help but wonder what else those fingers could do. Your phone suddenly dinged, startling you from your daydream. You read the text he sent. 'tuesday night at 7? it is italian night at the elks club and martha edwards makes a mean lasagna.' You smiled like a smitten school girl and typed your reply. 'Tuesday night with you and Martha's lasagna sounds like the perfect date.' Once you hit send, you heard his phone vibrate. He clicked and read it, and smiled like a smitten school boy. "I suppose I could get used to that." he said. "I get kind of nervous when I have to talk on the phone. Writin’ is easier. I can think about what I wanna say before I have t'say it." He was still sitting close, right up against you, and his scent - the smells of the bar mixed with his own woodsy musk - was frankly intoxicating.  You felt that sensation deep inside you again. "If you think that's cool, check this out!" You turned and made a silly face and took a selfie with your phone, then sent it to him in a text. "Oh, darlin', you need ta’ stop." he said with a chuckle when he saw the texted photo. "I don't know if I can take much more. Bad enough I have to think about you 'til Tuesday night. If you send me pretty pictures..." "Who says we have to wait until Tuesday?" you said, and you could only imagine what look you had in your eyes, because when he turned to you and saw it, he froze. "I, uh..." he stammered, and you quickly realized your mistake.  This wasn't some slick Chicago city fuck-boy. Clyde was a man of honor who obviously respected the women in his life, and probably hadn't had a whole lot of one night stands, if any. "I'm so sorry." you said to rescue him from the awkwardness. "I don't know where that came from. I just... I guess I'm kind of taken by you, Clyde. That was uncalled for, though. I apologize." "No, no. Don't apologize. I… I’m flattered, darlin’. I wish I was as brave as you!" he replied. His face had started to redden. "Did the Marine war veteran just say he wishes he was as brave as me?" you laughed, and he chuckled along with you. "I don't think that was bravery, Clyde.  More along the lines of brazen stupidity on my part. You know what?  I should get going. I'm supposed to be at the farm for breakfast tomorrow. My aunt’s pancakes are something you never want to be late for!”

“Let me walk you to your car.” he said. “Gets real dark out in that parkin’ lot.” You smiled warmly at his chivalry. When you hopped off your bar stool and turned, you were struck with the realization of just how much bigger than you he was. He towered over you by at least a foot, maybe even a little more.  And dear God, he was broad in ALL the right places. The two of you walked side-by-side out to your car, and when you beeped the key fob on the rental, Clyde immediately grabbed the door handle before you could do it yourself, and opened your door. You climbed inside, and he leaned over to give you directions.

“Now when you leave the parkin’ lot, you’re gonna turn left, then take the second left, alright?” he waited until you had nodded in agreement to continue. “Take that road until you get to tha’ red light. That’s Highway 5. Take another left, and the motel is gonna be down about a mile. If you see the dairy farm, ya’ went too far.”

He gently shut the door of the car, and you promptly rolled the window down. He leaned over and rested his forearm against the door so that he was eye-level with you. “Now if you get lost, don’t try t’find yer way back here. Just gimme a call, alright?” You nodded up at him with a smile. Before he could stand, you quickly leaned over and snuck a kiss on his cheek. You thought he might burst, he looked so surprised.

“What was that fer?” he asked, but his voice was soft.

“For being a gentleman, Clyde Logan.” you said, and started the engine of the rental. “I’ll text you when I get to the motel, ok?  Don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Well, I’m prob’ly gonna do that anyway, just so ya’ know.” He stood then, and stepped back from the car. “Be careful, darlin’. Watch fer’ deer! They’ll jump right out in front of ya’”

You waved out of the open window as you pulled out of the parking lot.

The Comfort Inn wasn’t quite as comfortable as you would have liked. It looked more like the Bates Motel that had had a quick slap of paint and some new bed linens applied, but what could you expect this far out in the middle of nowhere? Once the attendant had given you the key, you parked your car in front of the door to your room and grabbed your bag and went inside. Thank goodness your room was on the front side of the building, where there was some light from the big bright sign by the side of the road.

Once inside, you took a quick shower, slipped on your favorite t-shirt and a pair of boy shorts, and slid into bed. At least the mattress was fairly comfortable, and the sheets were soft. No wifi (big shock) but you had just enough of a signal right off the highway that you would be able to text Clyde. That thought sent a little quiver to a place it probably shouldn’t have.

‘Made it to the motel!’ you sent. Before your phone screen could even dim, you saw he was typing a reply.

‘I’m glad your safe. everything there alright?’

‘Yep! Right as rain.’ you wrote back ‘Took a shower and I’m already in bed. No wifi here so no Netflix tonight.’

‘Netflix. that is the movie place on the internet right?’

You smirked. God, he was adorable. ‘Yes, it is indeed that movie place on the internet. I’ll have to show you how to Netflix and chill sometime.’ you typed, knowing full well it would go straight over his head.

‘that sounds real nice sweetheart’’

Mission accomplished. Now to seal the deal. You took a selfie in the low light of the room, the tattered neck of your sleep shirt showing a hint of your cleavage, and just enough of your bare hip in the pic to get the point across without being tacky or distasteful. You attached it to the text with the words ‘Sweet dreams’.

You thought for sure you had overstepped when he didn’t answer for what seemed like forever, or maybe that he’d fainted and hit his head on the bar when he’d seen the pic. You were into your second round of solitaire on your phone when it finally dinged.

‘Darlin your prettier than the first peach of the summer.’ he typed. You assumed that was a compliment and replied as such.

‘Why thank you, kind sir. You’re not so bad yourself, you know.’

‘Oh I don’t know about all that.’ he replied and you could nearly feel his embarrassment through your phone screen.

‘Trust me, Clyde. You are a very good looking man. You know what? Scratch that. Baby, you are HOT!’ you typed back, and even added the little flame emoji at the end.  Fuck it, you were going to put all your chips on the table.

Again, a long pause that made you nervous. Finally, his reply.

‘Well I’m not one to argue with a lady, so I will take your word for it.’

Damn, that hadn’t gone over exactly like you had wanted it to. Why was this guy so nice? You decided to dial it back a notch and maybe appeal to his heroic side.

‘It’s so dark out here.’ you told him in your next text. ‘Chilly tonight too. Glad you’re there to text with me or I might be scared.’

The little dots animated to show he was typing, and they seemed to go on forever. Either he was writing you a novel, or he was having trouble getting out what he wanted to say. You were betting on the latter.

‘You ok?’ you asked, ‘You can tell me anything, Clyde. I certainly haven’t had much of a filter tonight, but I can’t help how much I like you. I know it sounds silly, especially since we just met, but I was attracted to you the minute I saw you. I wish we’d had more time together tonight.’

The little dots stopped as he read your message. There was a pause, and then they started again. This time, it didn’t take long for his message to appear.

‘Me too.’ it said simply. But then, ‘Do me a favor?”

‘Of course’ you replied, silently hoping he was going to ask for another, possibly more risqué selfie (although you sincerely doubted he would).

‘Take a look out the window.’ You furrowed your brow as you read the message.  What the...? You slid out of bed and pulled back the curtain of the single window just enough to glance outside. There, on the other side of the parking lot was Clyde, standing against an old beat up pickup truck, phone in hand. You snapped the curtain closed and pressed your back against the wall, unable to suppress a giggle.  Holy shit!  You quickly typed a response.

‘Well what the hell are you doing standing out there in the cold? Come in here where I’m warm.’

Barely ten seconds passed before there was a tapping on the door. You opened it, making sure to stand back so no one would see you in your underwear. The room was dark, save for the little light over the sink in the bathroom which cast a warm orange glow out into the room. Once he was inside, you opened your mouth to say something cute and sassy to him, but before the words could come out, Clyde had you in his arms (both of them, you happily noticed). He lifted you up so that you were nearly face to face with him, sandwiching you between him and the door and god, he felt so good.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he devoured your mouth with his. He kissed you like he was starving, tugging at your lips, dipping in with his velvet tongue, wet and deep and delicious. For a moment, you forgot to breathe, and when you did, it came as a gasp. He took that as a sign that you were enjoying what he was giving you (yes, you most certainly were) and he continued without abandon.

You moved your hands down to venture underneath his t-shirt as he kissed you, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin. When your fingers found flesh, you felt him shiver, and goosebumps raised beneath your fingertips. You moaned against his mouth as you felt his huge right hand squeeze the flesh of your thigh, and then move up to grip your scantily clad ass. You bucked against him slightly and felt him react beneath you, the bulge in his jeans becoming even more pronounced. You backed away from his mouth long enough to get two words out.

“Bed. Now.” you said, your voice raspy with need, and being the gentleman he was, Clyde immediately complied.  He placed you gingerly on the mattress, took a moment to drink you in, and then began to undress himself. When he began to remove his flannel shirt, he looked down at his prosthetic. You spoke before he had the chance to get nervous about it.

“Whatever you’re more comfortable with is fine with me.” you said, and he nodded. He undid the straps and removed the prosthetic hand and laid it on the chair near the bed, then tossed his flannel shirt on top of it.  His t-shirt was next and my god, he was beautiful. You thought about helping him undo his pants (it was the physical therapist in you), but he had that down to an art form and had unbuttoned, unzipped, and shimmied out of his jeans before you could as much as reach forward to help.

You realized you were behind in the game a bit, and pulled your t-shirt over your head.  Your tits bounced free and you swore you heard him squeak under his breath, but he smoothly covered it by clearing his throat. You grinned and watched him continue to undress like it was the best show you’d ever seen.  And honestly, it did rank very high on the list.

He hitched his thumb into the waist of his boxers and slid them down, and it was your turn to squeak. However beautiful you thought Clyde Logan was, his cock was ten times as magnificent. If you’d had any question about whether the size of his more outwardly viewable body parts were in proportion to the less accessible ones, that answer was a resounding YES.

Just when you thought you couldn’t stand not touching him anymore, he was on the bed, his huge, warm body hovering above you. You ran your fingertips up his chest and around his neck, and when he leaned in to kiss you, your fingers found purchase in his long, dark locks. God, his hair was so soft. His lips were so soft. But there was one thing that was most definitely not soft, and when you reached down and took it in your hand, you felt his entire body react. Your fingers couldn’t even close around his cock he was so thick, and you silently wondered how it would fit inside of you. That was a challenge you were most definitely willing to accept, the thought of which sent a chill up your spine.

He balanced his weight on his left elbow above your head, his right hand exploring your body as you lightly stroked his cock with your hand. His touch was simultaneously rough and soft, and he soon had you writhing with need beneath him. Your tits, the size of which you had always been proud of, completely disappeared underneath his massive hand, and when he pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger, you cried out in pleasure.

“I’m sorry, darlin’” he said as he raised himself up off of you a bit, thinking he had hurt you.

“No, no.” you cooed, wrapping your free hand around his waist and pulling him back to you. “That was a happy sound.” You peppered his shoulder and neck with kisses and sighed against his skin when his fingers returned to your nipple. This time, he did not stop when he coaxed out your little cries.

His hand moved down and you wondered if it was possible to actually die of anticipation as he slowly slid his fingers beneath the top of your panties. When his fingers found your slit, you moaned into his shoulder, and you heard him draw in a breath between his teeth.

“God, darlin’, you’re so wet.” he whispered in your ear, and you hummed in response.

“Mmmmm… That would be your fault.” You replied with a grin, but then he slid two massive fingers inside you and you bucked beneath him. “God, Clyde!” you exclaimed, your fingers digging into his upper arms as he explored you, his thumb gently grazing your clit in maddeningly slow circles. He worked you into a near frenzy, your breath coming in little heated gasps. And the entire time, he kissed you gently here and there, every third or fourth kiss returning to your lips.

“Do you mind if I…” Clyde said suddenly, but then paused, unsure of himself. “I mean, would it be ok if I…”

“What do you want, baby?” you asked, your lips hot against his neck as you kissed and nipped at the flesh there.

“I’m just dyin’ to taste you, sweetheart.” he replied, and his voice was deep and filled with need. The mere thought of that man’s mouth on your pussy was enough to make you whimper so there was no way in hell you were passing up his offer. You thought about the logistics for a second, given your size and his (and the size of the small double bed) and came up with a solution.

“Lie down.” You instructed as you pushed him back with your hands. He did as you instructed, and when he was flat on his back, you slid your panties off and climbed on top of him, straddling his broad chest. “You want to taste me, baby?” You asked. He nodded. You almost felt guilty for teasing him, but on the other hand, you knew it was going to be worth it. You slid your fingers down into your slick folds and flicked your clit with your middle finger, whimpering softly. When your fingers were thoroughly wet with your juices, you removed them and held them over Clyde’s mouth.

“Open.” You instructed and his mouth popped open as if you had flipped a switch. You stuck your fingers in his mouth and moaned as he sucked your essence from them. You jerked your fingers out of his mouth and he made a disappointed sound which made you smirk. “More?” You asked, and he nodded his head, eager as a kid in a candy shop.

“Scoot down a little.” you instructed and again he complied immediately and without question (damn, his obedience was really starting to turn you on!) You raised up on your knees and positioned yourself over his face. Before you even had a chance to say a word, he had grabbed your hip with that massive right hand and thrust you down onto his mouth. You gasped loudly as he worked you with his lips and tongue and he grasped you so tightly against him, you wondered how in the hell he could breathe.

The noises he was making while he ate you out were utterly filthy. Wet, sloppy sounds accompanied his grunts of pleasure, and holy shit, they were driving you mad. You slammed one hand flat against the wall behind the bed to steady yourself as you reached down to grab a handful of that ample black hair. How was he so good at this? He knew just when to flick, and just when to suck, and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slid those thick fingers back inside you. You came undone — immediately and with little warning. Your knees weakened and you barely had a chance to utter the first letter of his name before you were pulled into one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had.

Clyde reveled in every second of your orgasm, and when you were done, he gently moved out from under you and took you in his arms (again, both of them) and laid you back down on the mattress. He reached over and grabbed his t-shirt from the chair beside the bed and wiped his face before laying on his side beside you, his left arm behind your head. You melted against him, his big arms engulfing you as you laid your head on his chest and breathed him in.

“I just need a sec.” you whispered. Your voice sounded dreamy and far away.

“You take all the time you need, sweetheart.” He replied softly. The fingers of his right hand were stroking little patterns on your hip, his breath hot against your hair as he laid patiently beside you, allowing you time to recover. You silently wondered how such a generous lover could still be single. Hell, was he even single?  How would you know?  You just met him that night, and had already climbed into bed with him. You sighed deeply against his chest. You had come to the country to escape, but you evidently had not been able to escape your own bad habits.

“You ok?” Clyde asked softly. He had heard your sigh.

“Mmm hmmm.” you hummed against his skin. What did it matter anyway? You’d be gone from this place in a week, and all of this, including Clyde Logan, would just be a memory.

Even though you were still floating from your orgasm, you couldn’t stand to make him wait any longer, and besides, his massive cock pressing against your stomach was making you horny all over again. You pushed him onto his back, still amused at how he had no trouble letting a girl half his size do whatever you wanted with him. You kissed him, and the fact that he still smelled and tasted like your pussy drove you a little crazy, causing your kisses to become deep and heated. You grasped his cock in your hand and he moaned into your mouth as you stroked him.  You flicked a bead of precum from the head of his dick and then broke your kiss with him so you could lick the sticky substance from the pad of your thumb. From the look on his face, you thought he might cum then and there.

“Mmmmmm.” you cooed, your thumb slowly caressing your bottom lip, then moving down between your breasts, down your stomach, and back to his cock, which twitched with anticipation of your touch. “I think I want more of that.”

You slid your body down his and when you reached your destination, you ran your tongue up the length of his ample shaft.

“Oh god, please, darlin’!” he exclaimed, and in response, you took his cock in your mouth. His breath hitched in his throat as you ran your tongue slowly around the perimeter of the head. When you released him from the warmth of your mouth, you weren’t surprised to hear him beg.

“Please. Please don’t stop.” he whimpered, which sounded utterly delicious to you in that deep, rich voice of his.

“Hold my hair.” you instructed, and scooped your hair back so he could take it in his hand. You returned to his cock, taking it slowly into your mouth as deeply as you could, but fuck, he was so thick. It wasn’t long before your jaws ached from the size of him, but you persevered, sucking him off while you stroked the base of his cock with your hand. It wasn’t long before you were both a mess, his cock and your lips slick with your saliva and his precum. His hand was grasping tighter at your hair, his hips jutting upwards with your downward strokes, his breath fast and shallow.  He was so close. You were anticipating feeling the hot stream of his cum hit the back of your throat when he released your hair and gripped your shoulder.

“Alright, darlin’.” he said, and then to your surprise. “Stop now.” you released him from your mouth and gave him a confused look.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, wondering if you’d done something that he didn’t like.

“Nothin’s wrong.” he explained. “I just didn’t want to… you know... do that in your mouth. Doesn’t seem respectful.”

You blinked at him, remembering the thought you’d had about him in the bar earlier. Respectful of the women in his life.  Boy had you called it. He patted the bed beside him.

“Com’ere, baby doll.” he said, and you felt a little tingle at his choice of new pet name. “I’ve got somethin’ better for ya’ than that anyway.” The desire in his deep voice rolled through you like thunder, and this time, you complied. You crawled up next to him, but he turned to fish for his jeans on the floor. When he found them, he reached in one of the pockets and pulled out a condom. Respectful and responsible, you thought to yourself. This guy really did have it all. You watched as he rolled it on, your breath quickening as you anticipated what was next.

He was so big -- not only his cock, but just huge in general, that it was incredibly intimidating to be beneath him, especially since you were so much smaller than him. He seemed to understand that, however, and knew how to defuse it. He began a campaign of sweet kisses that trailed against your hairline, down your cheek and to your neck, where he nuzzled for a moment, making you giggle as he tickled you with the hair on his chin. He chuckled at your response and leaned in against your ear.

“If I hurt you, just tell me to stop, alright?” he whispered and you nodded in reply. He dipped his fingers into your folds, as if he were testing to see if you were ready for him. You were. You spread your legs wide so that he could move between them, and wrapped your arms around his neck as he reached down to grip his cock and...

Oh! Oh my god. You felt your walls involuntarily convulse when he pushed inside you, unused to being so full and so stretched. He began his thrusts slow and shallow and you were thankful. It was a lot to take, but his patience allowed you time to adjust, and before long, you had both legs wrapped around his hips, and were meeting each of his thrusts with your own.

You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life.  Every nerve in your body was screaming with pleasure as he drove you mad with his long strokes. The head of his cock consistently found that elusive spot deep inside of you, and each time it did, you would cry out, which would only cause him to fuck you harder. You were soon panting as he growled and grunted like a wild animal atop you, and as you neared your release, you dug your nails into his skin and held on for dear life.

“Clyde! God, baby, yes” you screamed, repeating his name as a mantra over and over as stars filled your vision as you came. The second he felt your pussy tighten around his cock he threw his head back and you felt it deep inside you as he found his release.

He collapsed beside you, a heaving, sweaty, gorgeous mess. Once he had caught his breath, he rose up on his elbow and planted a kiss on your lips, then rose from the bed. Ah. So that was it then. The door to the bathroom clicked shut and you leaned over the side of the bed, searching for your panties and t-shirt. You had just laid hands on them when Clyde exited the bathroom. You were trying to convince yourself that you preferred this — a clean break without any complications, when Clyde was suddenly on the bed again and wrapped around you like a warm blanket, his head resting on your belly. Ok. Well, complications also made things interesting. Right?

You ran your hands back through his dark hair, occasionally twisting a strand around your finger as his breathing deepened. He fell asleep, a big warm puppy wrapped in your arms. But you lay awake, desperately wondering what you’d gotten yourself into.

All of this over one little wrong turn.