#Decorative Lawn Flags | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babiebom · 5 months

Text

When You Fall (VIII)

A/N: i got the sweetest message from someone(idk if they’d want me to call them out) and somehow it made me want to start on this chapter so I guess it literally just takes someone being nice for me to actually do something lmao. Also happy new year!! Also also whenever I’m writing one of these chapters and the tumblr notif shows up it jumpscares me. Like how do y’all know?

Tw: depression, reader decides to force themself to be happy, cursing. The usual

Wc:3.0k

Previous Next Masterlist

Sweat dripped from your forehead as you attempted to clear some of the farm from debris. It was taking long to clear everything, and though you knew that most of the land would be unused until you actually got enough money to plant more things and get a coop or barn.

Shadow ran around wildly, barking happily as she snapped her teeth at the air. It’s funny, watching her as she runs. Getting pets didn’t make being in a depressive pit completely go away, but they did make that pit less dark, less daunting and lonely. Mango lazed around on the porch, his tail slowly waving side to side as he watched you.

Sticking your rake into the ground and wiping the sweat again, you grin at your animals, letting out a labored breath. “Okay, so, I love you both very very much. And I’m sorry that I can’t take you but they’re hosting an Egg Festival in the town and I’m going.”

You move to sit on the porch, Shadow dashing to crash onto your lap. You open your arms and let her move her big body onto you with a roll. “And I swear I’m not going to enjoy being away from you both, but I have to go as part of my healing. I’ll be back soon.” Neither one of them did anything other than stare at you and then go about their own business as you get up and head inside to shower. Shadow trails behind you after a moment, her tail wagging so hard her butt wiggles along with it. You take one last glance at her as you finally get in the shower, hoping the day goes by quickly.

Walking into the town’s square, it’s like a decorating bomb went off. There are banners and decorative flags and other things littered around in a way that made you think whoever decorated spent way too long out here only for them to be messed up by the wind. There’s so many layers of tape that you feel irritated for whoever had to fix it.

“Farmer!” Pierre calls out from behind his booth. You want to ignore him, not really ready for social interaction but go over to him anyways. Forcing a smile onto your lips you lean on the booth counter, looking at the things he has stocked.

Some strawberry seeds, lawn flamingos, plants, a painting, a bright pink banner, a plush bunny, and a….decorative pitchfork? What kind of stock is this? What does this have to do with the egg festival? You blink a couple times and attempt to control the look on your face, maybe you could buy a couple of strawberry seeds. Even if you don’t plant them this season you can always wait. “Hey Pierre! Selling some good stuff?”

He smiles and moves his hand around, gesturing to his stock. “Yeah, looking to buy anything?”

“Sure…a couple strawberry seed packets…and that plush bunny.”

“It’s pretty cute huh? Okay that’ll be 2,500g.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. 2,500g? The man has to be insane! What the fuck costed so much that you were being charged this much? “Yeah, prices are a little steep. But I have to make a living somehow,” he chuckles when he sees your expression. You try hard to keep your face in check, not wanting to snap on the man in front of everyone. You were here to make progress, not to make enemies.

After giving him the money you take your new things and stuff them into your backpack. The letter said the festival ended at two, and looking at your watch it was only 9:30. That meant 4 and a half more hours of agony trying to force yourself out of a depressive pit that you aren’t really all too sure you’re ready to leave just yet for the sake of getting better.

Well, at least there’s food…

Hurrying along, the sight of the buffet table makes your mouth water. Not eating breakfast and working all morning in a large field without totally knowing what to do is a bad idea, but now that you’re looking at all the different types of food you can’t help but praise yourself for how lucky starving yourself got you. Now you can eat, then when you get home you can pass out and sleep until tomorrow. Like another rest day that feels like a reward after running around in the dirt.

As you fill your plate with food, you can see Gus and what’s his name…’Clive?’ You think to yourself, nose scrunching in confusion, ‘No, that's a stupid name. Carl? It has to be Carl…what other C names are there?’ In your thoughts you almost drop your plate and gain the attention of the two men, Gus smiles brightly and waves you over while the other man averts his eyes. Weird…

“Hey Gus!” You smile warmly at the older man. There was a twinge of stress in his eye, but it seemed rude to point that out to him. His eyes moved over the rows and rows of food and it occurs to you that he must have cooked almost everything himself being the Towns Saloon owner and all.

“Hey farmer! I was just telling Clint here…you’ve met Clint right?”

You shake your head at his question. You had only seen him around maybe once and heard his name in passing from the blue haired girl who was talking to him when you passed by and from Maru when you were in the clinic. Thank Yoba Gus said his name or you would’ve been stood awkwardly just like you are but more so because you wouldn’t have known his name. “Oh well, he’s the towns blacksmith…anyways I was just telling him how I hope everyone’s enjoying the food. I’ve been cooking for days to get the food ready.”

“Days? Wow thats a lot of work…”

“Yeah I made fried eggs, boiled eggs, poached eggs, deviled eggs, scrambled eggs, chocolate eggs, you name it!”

“I mean it is the Egg Festival…”

“Yeah, not to mention the other foods. I’d be upset if it turned out horribly.”

You take a bite of whatever was on your plate in front of him, trying to make a show of how good it is, but not really needing to act because WOW can this man cook. How’d he even make this? His eyes light up at your expressions and mannerisms, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of you enjoying the food. “No Gus, I swear this is amazing! You don’t need to worry about anyone not enjoying the food at all!”

“Thank you for the kind words, Farmer, it means a lot to me.”

You nod vigorously, not wanting to ignore him but now overcome with the urge to stuff down as much of the food as you can. What the fuck was in this? Drugs? You can’t even remember the last time you were this hungry.

With your plate you walk around, smiling at anyone who talks to you, and try to carry on conversations that you didn’t really care much about. It had been weeks since you moved here, and you were just now meeting everyone personally. There were so many people living here in Pelican Town that you wonder how you had managed to avoid 60 percent of them whenever you ventured out.

As you make your rounds to the buffet table for the second time, the sight of a bright red cape catches your eye and the man with the eyepatch flashes in your mind. You hadn’t seen him since that day, but you had to find out what those stupid jelly things are.

“Marlon!” You call out, rushing to the man in the corner. He looked surprised that you were speaking to him, but made no moves to walk away or ignore you. Instead he looked slightly pleased. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

His eyebrows quirk up in amusement, “I could say the same about you, don’t hear anything about you going around.”

You shrug and realize that just as much as you stick to your farm, he must stick to the caves and mountains. Neither bad, but awfully lonely when you think about it. You wonder if there’s anyone he lives with up there. “I just thought that you would prefer to be adventuring or something…like in the caves?”

“Yeah, but even with my bad leg I never miss a festival.”

“Oh…say you know down in the caves how there are…things right?”

“Yeah the monsters?”

“Yeah um, have you ever seen the little Jello creatures? They’re really tiny and all but are like really strong for some reason, and jump at you like they’re legless spiders?”

“The slimes? Yeah you have to be careful with them. They might be easy to defeat but can quickly overwhelm you if you’re not careful.”

He frowns at you and you swallow. That’s exactly what had happened. The stupid things were just too much the more you ventured down. But you’d be ready for them next time, and whatever else is down there. “Yeah, they kinda kicked my ass last time I went into the caves.”

He nods solemnly, as if he could relate. Maybe he could relate, having a bad leg and an injured eye and living up there. There had probably been times that he’s gotten overwhelmed and hurt. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. If he could get hurt down there, and you have already been hurt, who’s to say that you won’t just die the next time you go down? It’s weird to think just how lucky you truly were when you were saved.

Thinking of being saved…your eyes flit around quickly trying to spot the man that had saved your life. Maru and Sam had said that Sebastian had gone down into the caves himself to save you, and even though you hadn’t seen him personally since meeting in the Saloon, the need to thank him was always in the back of your mind. And now you have the chance, Yoba you wished you were home.

You bid goodbye to Marlon and shuffled your way to the trio standing off at the bottom of the town’s square. Rehearsing what you’re going to say in your head, you hope that it would be a quick conversation, that you wouldn’t stutter over your words and that you wouldn’t act so awkward that they think you’re weirder than you are. But as you clear your throat as you walk up to them, regret settles in your belly at the looks on their faces. It was like being in school all over again and the kids that you thought were cool were too tight knit as a group and hated outsiders.

Before you could say anything Abigail speaks first, staring straight at you. “Do you think I’m too old to do the Egg Hunt?”

You frown at her in confusion before shaking your head. “No?”

She punches Sebastian’s arm as soon as the word leaves your mouth. “Ha! I told you I wasn’t too old. It’s like, why stop if I’m having fun?”

“How are you having fun searching for eggs with actual children?”

“Hey! Searching for eggs is like going on a treasure hunt! Besides, your sister does it too!”

Sebastian rolls his eyes at her, looking towards the river without saying anything more, choosing to sip on the punch in his cup. Sam looks like he’s suffering and you tilt your head, silently questioning him. “Ugh…it’s my doze…allergies.” His nose is so stuffed up that his words seem heavy. You wince at him and nod in understanding, Springtime wasn’t the best for people with allergies.

Sebastian clears his throat after a minute. “You know what I miss? The rotten egg toss.”

Both Sam and Abigail agree quickly, words coming out both of their mouths too quickly for you to really understand anything they’re saying. They’re very enthusiastic about it, recounting things that happened in previous years. In your confusion you look over at Sebastian, and he swallows his drink quickly. “We used to do a rotten egg toss, a couple years ago. It was only for like two years, Mayor Lewis put an end to it pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, too many people complained that it stunk.” Abigail laughed. It sounded pretty fun, tossing rotten eggs at a target or something, but the smell…ugh.

Before you could say anything else, Sam says he’s going to get more food before the egg hunt starts and they put everything away. Abigail looks between you and Sebastian and smiles. “I’ll go with him, either of you want anything?”

You shake your head, plate still full from the second round. “Maybe some punch? If it’s not too much trouble?” She shrugs and looks at Sebastian who just hands her his cup. She leaves without another word and without turning back. Ha…now it’s awkward…

“I didn’t think you were one for socializing.”

You’re surprised at his words, but think that in a small town there are rarely secrets. Everyone must know that you’re suffering. “Yeah um, just had a bad couple of weeks. I’m better now, though, ready to mingle and become part of the town…being alone is no good.”

He snorts, glancing at you and your heart stutters in your chest. Did he think you were joking? Were you that obvious in your dislike of talking to others? “Yeah sure…been there once.”

You don’t ask him what he means, understanding that he’s seeing right through your fake chipper exterior. For a minute the silence stretches on, but it’s not as tense and awkward as it was before. Maybe it was a good thing he could tell you were faking, there was no need now that it was only you two. “Y’know I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

“For?” He sounds disinterested, but when you look at his face he seems more…uncomfortable.

“You saving me? Your friends told me you went down into the caves to get me.”

“Fucking…yeah. It was no problem. You should be more careful, though, I was only able to help because I noticed that you didn’t come up.”

“Yeah…I really should…anyways. Thanks for saving me, hopefully you won’t have to do it again.”

He shrugs and says nothing.

“I owe you one.”

“Sure.”

The mayor claps his hands loudly, speaking into a megaphone that he’s holding. “If anyone is participating in the egg hunt, gather round. It’s almost time to begin!”

“You participating?” He asks, and for a second you almost say no before remembering that the whole point of coming was to become part of the community and bettering yourself.

“Yeah…you?”

“Nah…”

You nod and cough into your fist, unsure of how to separate yourself from him. “Well, I guess I’ll see you…later?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m either at home, or at Sam’s or the Saloon during the weekends…”

“Okay, cool.”

You walk away quickly, confused as to how you had somewhat made a friend of him? There was that saying that misery loves company…maybe he was the perfect person to be miserable with. He seemed like he had problems himself. Mayor Lewis claps a hand onto your shoulder a little harder than necessary, causing you to wince. “Enjoying yourself, Farmer?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s good! It’s about time you introduced yourself to the townspeople. Everyone was so excited to meet the new farmer in town and you just…disappeared. They thought you were a recluse or something!” He lets out a laugh that makes you frown. You had forgotten how much this guy could talk.

“Yeah well, family deaths will do that to you.” You keep your face straight as you stare at him. He coughs and sputters out some words before the conversation is effectively ended.

After another minute and a half the egg hunt begins and your heart starts thumping in your chest. The kids are already running off, and Abigail is darting around so quickly that you think that she’s going to knock one of them over. Looking at the other participants, the urge to beat them overcomes you. Winning at this means that you’re officially part of the community right? You’re putting yourself out there?

Your feet move without another thought from you and soon enough your basket is full with eggs. Looking at the others it seems theirs are too. You can hear Lewis counting down from ten and your heart races even more. How were you supposed to win this? You run across the square, hoping to get one last egg.

Five…

Where are the rest of the eggs? What the fuck is there no more?

Four…

In the corner of your eye something yellow gleams under the sun. An egg! Near the river!

Three…

You dash towards the egg, hand stretched out towards it.

Two…

A couple more steps to go, you’re unsure if you’ll get there in time.

One…

Your hand closes around the egg and into your basket it goes. Your heart thumps and your breaths come out uneven. But you made it! The last egg.

Lewis calls everyone back towards the center of town, eyes gleaming as he looks at everyone’s baskets. He seems happy to see more people participating in a dying tradition. There were only two kids in town so an egg hunt is bound to get boring as everyone gets older.

It takes five whole minutes for Lewis to count everyone’s eggs, yours being the last basketbhe gets his hands on. “Nine…ten…” Abigail groans in annoyance next to you. “Eleven! The winner is the Farmer! Come up and get your prize!”

Prize? If you knew there was going to be a prize you wouldn’t have tried so hard. Now someone was going to be mad at you for winning instead of them. You walk slowly to Lewis confused as to what he could be offering.

“Enjoy!”

He hands you a straw hat…well at least it’s helpful?

106 notes · View notes

pieroulette · 1 year

Text

L♡VE $CAM – part 1

2023 | 18+ | 13K | ONESHOT × 3 PARTS | DARK ROMANCE TROPE

> short teaser <

With the fancy outer cover of the book being the prince saving his damsel in distress from the cruel, harsh world; it's only wise to assume that the inner pages consists of "happily ever after". However, rip the pages off and take off your rose-coloured glasses and see that the prince was never a prince, and the damsel in distress won't always be a damsel in distress.

GENRE slow burn romance, comedy, angst, character-driven story.

WARNING scammer! heeseung, prostitute! reader, reader is a bad bitch, prostitution, degradation, manipulation, red flags idk, Heeseung has a rotten view on women in general, messed up beliefs, and more to be updated on the next parts—also just in case, since it's slow burn don't expect any smut in PT 1 lol.

The little boy drew on the surface of his blooming world with the mighty sword within his fingers, swaying it up and around with a wide big grin on his face as a low volume of the sunshower emitting outside the huge glass window right beside him—the vibrance of the sun shone on his world, furthering the beauty before his very eyes. “Pretty, pretty!” he exclaimed in utter grin.

A tiny chime echoes through the house, coming from the doorbell itself.

He turned over his shoulder to greet his mother but was taken aback by the unusual sight; his mother carried a rather solemn aura, a stark contrast of how she used to everyday. That was one thing, however the perfect picture he had always been patient to wait for everyday was ruined by the empty hollow spot beside his mother.

His mother went to the kitchen, sitting quietly after she was done with pouring herself a cup of tea. It was different but little Heeseung stayed silent, fiddling his fingers as he also sat back to his usual spot—beside the couch, pencil colours brushing the white paper emitting through the disquiet atmosphere.

A fair hour had passed within a blink of an eye, yet his mother stayed in the same spot not budging even a inch resembling a lifeless doll. It brought an uneasiness in the little boy, searching for a way to soothe such an atmosphere yet he doesn’t how. How?

His round, joy-filled eyes beamed upon a thought—picking his mighty sword back to his little fingers and started to adorn a new piece of canvas with little doodles.

“Mom! Look.. what I draw!”

A huge castle stood brave, strong and still on the hard soil ground. It carries this prestigious aura looming yet the beautiful lawns were decorated with brightly coloured and blooming flowers—yielding a perfect mixture of a strong home yet warm and gentle or more so like a pair of arms wrapped around you—strong and gentle. Peeking through the open windows with the tied up curtains flowing gracefully, through the plumpy soft bed; a princess sat in her big, giant castle all alone by herself in hopes for her prince to come and save her from the witch caging her inside that place. But to her surprise, an armour came into view standing before her eyes as she slowly looked up to the wearer; a gentle smile adorning his lips—a warrior came for her instead. It was as if the canvas came to life. Their feet begin to gently rise, fall, spin, and halt—and the whole process repeats again.

Flipping through the pages, surfaces the image of the princess grabbing the warrior's extended palms. Little Heeseung was ecstatic observing his mother, his little fingers clutching on their own along with the colours popping up on the princess' dress. Little did he know, the colours weren't doing its wonders in the reflection of his mother’s orbs.

Hollow, hollow it was.

“This is mom and dad!” the little boy explained.

His mother sighed through his nose before looking up. "Heeseung-ah. ." He didn't hear much of it or rather his surroundings was consumed by the rain overthrowing the sunny clouds—to him, mother’s voice being submerged in the growing ocean.

It was suffocating despite the fact he didn't know what was suffocating, he just couldn't reach for the air even though the air was there. What was mom saying? He forgot though, like the child he was as the next day came and he continued his next piece of drawing. Still wondering where his father was as another spiral loop of forgetfulness consumes the little boy as soon as he gets back to his new piece of drawing to show to his mother—in hopes that such expression won't surface on her face again.

His mother would never say a word of compliment yet she would turn the drawings he gave into a wooden frame—hanging it on the yellow wall of their living room. A silent love. Soon the walls were adorned with many, many frames—each consisting of mundane yet simple days of the princess and warrior’s together; the princess and the warrior eating together for dinner. Next day, a drawing of the princess's hair being brushed by the warrior. Next day, the warrior brought a pet fish for the princess and together they raised it.

How long has it been? Has it been a week? A month, or a year? Today's dinner was lacking. The plates once had a big fish on the plate yet today it is smaller in size and has a lesser portion of rice. He stayed silent though, maybe today was just a different case.

“Mom, when’s dad going to be back home?” His question was met with silence yet notices the brief pause of his mother from taking the spoonful of rice—she stretched out her hand to rub the boy’s little ones.

“Soon.” a reassuring smile surfaces amidst the solemn dining room.

Only a bowl of soup. Next day, there's only a small portion of food and it was only him who was eating, his mother was just sitting with him urging him to eat. Why? What's happening?

Today, he was starving but still had the same beaming energy to finish his drawing before the clock strikes, signifying his mother's return.

A soft chime echoes.

Bringing his piece of canvas to show to his mother with happiness, though it ceased to exist when not only did his mother appear—the empty spot beside her was consumed by an unfamiliar face. Tall, big and burly. Was that his dad?

“D-dad?”

"This, your kid?" little Heeseung twitched against the deep voice, not at all the gentle voice he remembered. This wasn’t his dad. How many months had it passed without the familiar presence he’d been yearning for?

An abashed laugh emits from his mother as her hand brushes the man's arm, "Don't mind the boy, he won't disturb us."

"Hm, boy. Why don't you go outside and have fun with your friends then?"

"I don't have friends.”

Little Heeseung stood still as he observed the enclosed white patterned door—the door in which his mother went in through with that man—a room he still remembers his father going in through once before. The boy’s attention fell upon the pit patter of rain falling outside.

Sun rose up in the sky, the door pushed open as he waited for his mother per his usual routine—he was met with the sight of his mother being with a man again, however this time it was a different face. Next day, next day, next day. Different days, different faces, yet it was vivid in his mind—the pale dusty green paper that all the men placed on his mother’s hand.

Till the day of his 15th birthday, a big fat expensive cake was presented before him on the table. Balloons, and cards of heartfelt wishes were splattered all over the table along with presents. Behind him, there stood the yellow painted wall adorned with numerous frames—a stark contrast of what was before him—an unfamiliar face on the end of the table, whose arms were tangled in his mother's.

Disgusting.

Heeseung saw nothing but red as he grabbed the guy's arm, twisting it and bending it so hard to the point he's screaming.

"S-stop! I beg of you! Please stop!" your desperate voice had him frozen for a second. Pathetic, fragile, weak, and petite. You were all those words.

A woman in a sly attire appeared with her arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in a way that she finds the entire commotion amusing, her voice heightening sparks a stark contrast from her sultry face. “What in the actual fuck is happening here?!”

Everyone halted at once, snapping their heads to the woman.

Heeseung observed from his side eye as you stuttered, being unable to form coherent words, patted your back in hopes to soothe you.

"Hm, who are you?" a question directed to Heeseung himself yet before he could answer—came out the cries of pain from the men themselves. "I bought her with my fucking money and say, why don't you tell it to this bastard, that girl—" he pointed at you with eyes shot wide open in rage, "She belongs to me now."

The woman didn’t have to hear the entire news to understand the weight of the situation before her; the battered, ragged form of the men and your shuddered form in a tall dashing man whose arms were wrapped around you, rubbing you as if you were his lover, despite the obvious trickles of blood seeping out from his cheeks—amused she was as she can't suppress her stifle laugh.

"Ah, ah. How amusing. I didn't know our dear (Name) would have a fair bunch of guys lusting after her isn't it?" she glances at you, “The name’s Yunjin in case you’re curious. We’ll have to settle this in a humane way, everyone.”

"So fucking what now?" The men spat out.

The woman spinned around her heels, motioning for you all to follow her as she let out an audible chuckle, fingers beneath her chin. "What else could be the perfect way than solving it with extra money?"

A huge manor stood tall and firm on the hard ground almost resembling of that a castle yet the overall vibe; the dusty grey walls, splattered dark stains on the pillars and corners of each wall, the extravagant colourful lights flickering around the board hanging on the main entrance— truly living up to its name—a brothel fitting for such a situation— dark windows with some of them left open for cool breeze to flow in through, several women ranging from all sorts of age had their backs leaning against the grey cold wall with their hands stretched out as if to lure men into their respective quarters—those that smells old reeking money and insatiable lust.

It was Heeseung's first time to ever be in such a place but the smell, the thick perfume, bold powders, the disgusting lewd sounds echoing throughout the space, the alcohol, women throwing themselves upon other men and so on — was all too familiar. A long, deep aisle stretched out before them which led them to another hallway with closed doors on either side—private quarters that were obvious for a reason.

They went through a vast room with its ceiling high up in the air, resembling of what seems like a ballroom yet engulfed in the same vibe as the main entrance–there stood a woman in black exquisite attire yet contrary to Yunjin, her attire was somewhat modest.

"Hm? What brings you back here again, darling?" Heeseung noticed the question was no one but for you whose heads were hanging down the entire time.

Yunjin leans closer into her ear—the woman gasped in a somewhat exaggerated manner, "Ah, ah. Then what's your name, child?"

"Lee Heeseung."

"Then may I ask why do you have to stick your nose in someone's business? I do not see where you have to do such a disrespectful thing."

“I just can’t bear to see them touch her like that.”

"So you want her?" A smirk grow on the woman's lips.

"Yes."

"But I already fucking bought her!—"

She raised her hand instantly, motioning for them to stay silent.

"Oh dear, did I hear that right? Don't you think it's a waste of money to buy a used product? They already bought her with their money. Besides, we had other girls you might find more interesting than (Name)."

"I don't care. I'll bring her with me, tell me how much they paid for her and I'll double the amount." Heeseung repeated. "Just tell me how much you want."

"Perfect." The woman's dark red lips tugged up in the slightest grin. "5,000 won. They paid 5,000 won. How much can you bargain, dear?"

"Make it 7,000 won then." a series of gasps followed.

"Fuck as if I'll let you," the man bares his teeth, "9,000 won."

"10,000 won."

"15,000 won!"

"18,000."

The commotion had the entire people round the space with eyes ogling at the never-ending uprising price.

"This is the last one, 65,000 won!"

"150,000 won." Heeseung looks at the man with contempt, “If you aren’t still satisfied then i’ll give you 500,000 won and an additional 20,000 more if you leave us the fuck alone.”

“Fuck, I wonder what you see in her.” Yunjin covered her eat-shitting grin with her hand, seemingly pleased by the entire situation.

"THE FUCK?!" downright shock etched all over their face, unable to believe the ogling amount spread before their eyes.

"So? Can I take her with me?" Heeseung asked with one eyebrow raised, as if the 6 digits weren’t a tad bit of a hassle for him.

"Sweet, it's a deal then." The woman answered, "However I prefer cash instead of a meaningless piece of card. You do know how this little organisation of ours works, right?"

A brief pause had Heeseung in a thought, looking down he did before answering, "Fine."

"Perfect, perfect! Look, the time is fairly 3:06pm. Make sure to bring it by 5pm or else we can't guarantee she would still be here. Time equals money, dear sir."

Heeseung spun his heels to face you with eyes trying to comfort you, closing the distance between you as he spoke, "I'll be back, wait for me."

You nodded, blinking in uneasiness. "P-please.."

With that, Heeseung went off. His form disappearing into the sea of crowds. Your eyes glued to the distance, wondering if he'll do as he promised.

"Wait— you can't be serious?! How about my fucking money??" The men won't shut up since then.

"There's still plenty of beauties residing in these quarters, gentlemen. Consider checking some, who knows you might have a change of heart?"

"I don't fucking care. I want her." The man pointed at you with bare teeth.

"If you still don't understand—what we have here is nothing but a business, sir. Whoever pays the highest amount of money shall get whichever and how many maiden they please to— and you obviously don’t have one."

"Do I look like I give a shit?!-"

BONK!

“Agh! Agh! Yunjin stop!”

Sighing through her nose, “Quit it will you? You’re becoming too invested in your roles for fuck’s sake, Jake.”

“We can’t help it, duh.” Jake puffed, then turned to face you in beaming eyes. “Madame! We did good right?! We could get an Oscar for this, fuck they should hire us.”

You gave him a thumbs up before looking out from the door once again and that simple gesture of yours brought a big smile on Jake's face and on the others—they bow with an immense respect for you before leaving.

“Yunjin! You could hire us to act for you next time then!—"

"Bish— for what?"

Hm? Would he come or not?

Twirling your hair round the tips of your fingers as you leaned against the doorframe, observing the sea of crowds waiting for that particular stranger. Would your plan fail or work? One, two, step forward, step backward you did as you spun around on the centre of the manor, your battered brown skirt flowing in a circular motion as your hands stretched wide open.

Would he come? You couldn’t care a bit less as you still had a fair line of men waiting to kneel before you.

Dawn painted over the once blue sky, replacing the feathery snow clouds with gold-veined ones. Sea of neon lights flickers through the stretched out line of the town—a low volume of flamboyant music spirals along with human’s desire to hide in this town—a shelter where humans shed off their outer layer of skin.

The woman in black attire approaches from behind you, “Madame, he’s here.”

“Hm?” fingers beneath your lower lip as the corners tugged up to kiss your growing smirk. Well, he had dug his own grave with his own hands. How pathetic. Meeting his dreamy eyes fixated on your form, replacing your bold fingers to fiddle the hem of your sleeves, looking down to avoid his intense ones.

You didn't expect it a tad bit that's why it gave you a fair surprise when he came in through the main entrance, his tall frame and dashing aura, with a suitcase in his tight grasp. Was he that enamoured by you? Who knows? There's still a fair amount of time to confirm such suspicions as much as you're compelled to believe it, after all you don't need him to like you—you need him to fall in love with you till he's willing to surrender his body, his soul, his heart and most importantly—his money.

“I told you I’ll come back.”

“H-ha, sir! Thank you for saving me.” Your soft ones hold onto his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. Your eyes hold utmost sincerity in it, gasping when he looks back at you with his intense ones. You gulped your throat, "Thank you for saving me. I'm really .. bad at this, I really don't know how I can repay you."

Meticulous planned lies, the same lies you uttered to people or to be exact, men — those with ogling eyes laced with lusts, hands dying to grab a woman's body, lips that won't wait for an immediate contact. Playboys, old men, nerds, boys next door, those that held an angelic appearance—you played them all. How embarrassing. This man before you was no different, he'll be at your mercy sooner and later. Likewise, a fair amount of time should be wise to take this seemingly gentleman down to his demise.

You observed as Heeseung's eyes softened against your nervous acts—almost wanted to melt before your quivering, fragile form; head hanging down, your hands trembling against his fingers as you tugged it. Of course, you'd spent years refining such petty acts designed to make men fall for it.

An audible chuckle akin to an angel's whisper, feathery and gentle hits your ears. "I'm only doing what is right to do."

"B-but why me?" You asked, "The-there's plenty of other girls inside. Why don't you save them too?"

Heeseung wondered how dense you could be to ask such a folly question, but suppressed the need to voice it out. "I’m afraid my wallet will turn dry in doing so."

Your expression screams ignorance and naivety.

Well, does he even need to wonder with your overalls? Yet, it was your fragile form that had him wanting to save you. Probably. In fact, that wasn't the only reason. “Don’t worry, someday someone will save them too.” or perhaps never, Heeseung thought to himself.

“M-may I know what’s your?..”

“Oh shit, I forgot to introduce myself didn’t I? Heeseung, Lee Heeseung. What’s yours?”

"Sr. Heeseung?.." you repeated his name under your breath—silence, silence it was that you forgot to answer back.

"H-Hey?"

"Oh? Uhm yes?" You pressed your lips in a tight manner.

"Care to give me your name?"

"(Name).."

"Pretty name, I wonder how did you even get to a place like that? It doesn't look like you're a local around here, anyways."

You look down, and he notices you fiddling your fingers between the hem of your dirty old skirt.

"It's okay, you don't have to answer."

"I was sold off."

"Oh. Thats— that's fucked up." Heeseung exhales, looking up to the sky before taking your hands in his, much to your surprise, “You don’t have to be scared anymore, you’re safe with me.”

Safe.. huh?

“W-where are we going? Sir?”

“I don’t have any idea yet but for now let’s go back to my apartment.”

You pursed your lips in a nervous manner.

A gentle giggle emits from the man, “Don’t worry, I can’t possibly let you live on the street, though.”

The conversation eventually died down as the cascading silence engulfed the entire space—silent yet serene it was with the dense greeny forests coming into view, the road filled with sorts of vehicles surfaced, the beaming green light alarming the drivers to go in through to all sorts of directions, the passing yellow vehicle with children in their little hops spilling out as an old woman guided them to a straight line, the low volume of cafes and speakers were emitting from afar, the lovely scene of the sun setting from the surface of the sky as it's deep orange hues painted the street the road, and a few minutes later a tall high buildings finally came into view.

You looked out from the window feigning amazement with your mouth hanging apart much to Heeseung’s amusement as he pulled up the car in the parking spot and a security guard approached to check his ID.

“Come.” he reached out his hands for you to take as you stepped off from the car. “This is where I stay.”

“Woah.” you exclaimed as you observed this luxury high-end apartment.

Heeseung taps a series of digits through the door’s handle—sadly, you were getting tired feigning fascination over the entire course, suppressing the need to roll your eyes when he guided you inside his apartment.

"That— That's so amazing!" your mouth gaped. “I-i’m sorry, it’s my first time.. My place is so deep in the village. I don't always have the chance to go out, it was a chance that only lucky ones had."

Heeseung couldn't suppress his chuckle, eyes crinkling in obvious amusement. "There’s no need to say sorry, I could understand why. In fact, I couldn’t guarantee I won't act the same way as you."

You gazed at all the expensive furniture, almost brushing your finger against the decorations on top of it before halting immediately.

Heeseung noticed your hesitance, "Don't worry, you can touch it."

Your eyes sparkled at his given permission and you immediately stroked your finger against the cold and exquisite material of the object, marvelling at its meticulous patterns — a masterpiece of a craftsman.

"Got a thing for this type of stuffs?"

"Hm. . Yes." You nodded somewhat ecstatic. “It’s so pretty..”

Heeseung went inside his room, pulling out a piece of shirt and pants that surely would look oversized on you—apologising in advance as he placed it on your shivering ones, "This might look big on you but I promise we'll get some for you tomorrow."

Eyes widening in fractions, you shook your head as you pulled your hands up. "T-there's no need to! you've already d-done so much for me, I.. really don't know where to keep my face already."

An audible chuckle escapes from his lips, looking down in mild amusement. "You're so adorable."

"Eh?!" you gasped.

"I mean?—"

A loud ring emits up in the air, interrupting him much to his annoyance. “I’ll take this phone first, just take a look around okay?”

You nodded in an ecstatic manner, observing his back as he disappeared into the corners of the walls. A low sigh, eyes darting around the space—softened ones growing into a menacing gaze.

In this vast spacious living room—that interior was somewhat really baffling for you. It wasn't your first time to be in such a place, even more so the place you've been in before was much bigger, marvellous and higher in status than this one.

Not that it matters now anyways.

With your expression growing disinterested in each passing second, you sighed dejectly as you halted your steps before a painting. He must have bought this a few years ago, what a great taste.

But too bad, too unfortunate — stroking the painting slowly at a delicate pace, he won't have much money in his pockets to buy anything like this anymore.

Crossing your arms as you tilted your head to one of the drawers, being aware of any hidden devices inside the apartment — you scanned the place and as expected, there's none. Truly, your experience in that place has given you a fair skill with a fair price.

Your eyes fell on an open box of a luxury watch inside it, holding the need it in between your fingers, scoffing that you'll have to take it slow and nice before even proceeding with your first move. Frightened that he might be suspicious of you real quick and you can't risk that.

Patience, patience.

After all, a human being's demise is his own impatience, an inability to bring into one's composure is an approaching deathbell.

“I told you we’re done, there’s no need to consider anything further.” Heeseung bares his teeth with the phone beneath his ears, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance despite how he tried to make his voice as civil as possible. “Fine then, one last meeting to settle everything.” hanging up, he lets out a long deep sigh before turning to the direction from where you’re from—the corners of his faint cherry lips slowly tugging up in a mischievous smirk.

“Why is there a need when I have you right here wrapped round the tip of my finger?” says Heeseung as he walks back to where you are in a leisure manner, head tilting down and eyes gleaming in sinister plans.

Baffling it was, as always, his tricks often worked. "(Name), was it?" Your name tasted sweet in his lips, on the tip of his tongue, and like that his cherry lips tugged up in a mischievous grin and his eyes squinting in amusement.

Getting the money was no hard task for him for it was years worth of cultivated money, obviously from the girls he had fooled.

He went through all that trouble only because he was fascinated by your naivety, different from most girls he fooled or encountered. You were so dumb and absolutely untainted from the dirty stains of this world that he wanted to be the first person to show you the true colours of it. Bored of the same patterns and criterions of his previous victims, he desired for a whole new different toy and it just happened when his eyes laid on you.

The moment he sees you in that pathetic form of yours, the desire to completely ruin you arises inside the depths of his rotten heart. It grows even more when the head of the brothel confirms your innocence, the fact that you were only sold up until a few days ago, that it was today you were bought. You reminded him so much of a particular someone.

He himself was never that prince nor warrior everyone wanted to be. He's fed up, fed up of being thought of as one, fed up with the way all these girls lust after him and nevertheless he still took bliss in it. Always wrecking their dreams apart and shattering it because he likes to see it. No, he just doesn’t like it. He completely loves it.

Ah, what a sweet luck he got to be bestowed with another toy to play with, another pretty toy to rip apart and show to her that the world isn't as pretty nor as colourful as she wishes to.

He's bored. He had a lot of bucks inside his pockets, a result of his scamming people or ladies to be exact, he needed something to toy around with for awhile. And you happen to be his perfect toy; an innocent lady with a fairy tale dream for this world. Heeseung doesn't think he's so evil for showing you the real canvas of this disgusting world, after all he's doing you a favour.

"Thank you for saving me?" Heeseung scoffed in amusement, "You'll thank me later."

Lies, lies, what could be more sinister than a bunch of lies woven together in a disguised form of your favourite fairy tale books?

“Hey.” The way your eyes shot up, rosy cheeks and trembling lips had him almost baffled but suppressed his grin from growing any further. It was only a few minutes that he left you here and yet he already fucking missed it, excited to his core to start his plans in ruining you but he should take it slow, he thought. For where is the fun of rushing? “So- how was it? Got any paintings that caught your sight?’

“H-hmm! They’re all particularly nice. I couldn't choose.” your head hangs down avoiding his gaze.

“I guess I can take that as a compliment then?” Heeseung smiles down at you, his hand finding its way to rub your arm as if to comfort you. “Hey, it’s okay. Wanna grab something to eat?” he said as he extended his hand out for you.

You were so painfully shy, cheeks burning red, eyes looking down to avoid his gaze, your fingers tucking your hair behind your ear every now and then, your wavering form as you can't keep your feet from shivering ever so slightly, hands interlaced in front of your tummy as if to give yourself a slight comfort. Every expression surfacing from your face is ruining Heeseung's patience that he wanted to just ruin you right now.

Taking his hand once again as you look into his eyes, not surprised that he’s going this far for this fake innocent persona you had on you. Afterall, this persona was a bait meticulously curated for such a person. Turning his back around you and a disinterested look splattered on your face—rolling your eyes up to the ceiling and eyebrows pulling up. His back holding the expression that mirrors yours as he guided you to the dining room.

Eyes that held fake affection, lips that sang flattering lies, touches that screams absolute affection and yet the heart and mind conspires in each others' demise. You two were well trained in this department, after all.

'I wonder how many days it would take to ruin you?'

“Oh shit.” Heeseung hissed after pulling the fridge’s door open, his back bent down as his head pushed inside searching for anything before fixing his posture upright.

You raised your eyebrow. “Is there–?”

He spun around brushing the back of his neck in an abashed manner, letting out an awkward laugh. “Sorry, I think I forgot to fill up my fridge.. My work had really put me through and through..” a lie, Heeseung snickered inside.

Your hands immediately shoot up as you shake your head, laughing. “It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m not that hungry anyways.. —It-it’s fine! Sir, you’ve really done so much in letting me stay the night here.”

“Uh..” Heeseung looks up to his cupboard and a bright smile adorns his face, “Would you mind a bowl of ramen then? Have you eaten it?”

Dripping raindrops hit the tall window before the dining room, gliding through and through till it hits the edges. The mixture of rain and the aroma of the boiling ramen was weirdly comforting. You rubbed your hands, pulling down your sleeves to cover your fingers.

“Here!” you turned to Heeseung as he placed the bowl of hot ramen before you, the spoon and a pair of chopsticks on both your sides. He then took his seat after placing his as well.

You took a brief sniff, eyes lighting up. “It smells so good!” taking a spoonful of soup and the twirled ramen on the tips of your chopstick onto your tongue. “The ramen tastes so good!” you exclaimed as radiant as ever. It did taste good, you thought.

“Right? Ramen is the only food I've been eating these days.” Heeseung smiled, “It’s my favourite too.”

“Isn’t th-that somewhat unhealthy?”

“Hm? It’s fine though, why bother to cook so much if you only eat alone, right?”

"I can see w-why.." you took another small sip from your spoon, indulging yourself in this tasty ramen.

Palms of his hands beneath his chin as his sparkling eyes observed you as you eat, he couldn’t help but find you endearing though. Endearing you were, as if you were going to break if you were given a cold harsh glare or a one touch would make you crumble apart in fear. How sweet, he thought—but how grateful could he be to be given such a entertaining sight—a toy—to play with and mess its contents onto the floor?

You almost choke on your food when you notice his eyes on you, wiping the corners of your mouth with the napkin from the table.

Heeseung eyes softened and muttered a small apology, telling you that it was just a tiny habit of his to observe someone while they eat or do something, that it was just.. “It’s just endearing to watch.”

Fuck. Such a cheesy line. You muttered within yourself. A coherent sentence a fool would only believe. Keeping the gentle smile on your lips as you kept on your shy demeanour. Son of a bitch thought he could fool me, you muttered on the back of your head as you smiled at him as you took a brief sip from the glass.

Heeseung had arranged the guest room for you before going off and telling you a simple goodnight much to your hidden displeasure and yet you kept the abashed smile on your face as it was simply your job afterall—to fool the living shit out of him and dig his cascading sea of money.

Through the mind of Heeseung however,

It won't take much time to make you succumb to him but he prefers to keep it slow, because where's the fun in revealing everything so quick? He wanted to see you rot in his touch, observe your innocence crumbles before his hands, fucked up expressions over your sweet dumb face, your trembling body writhing under his. Slow, fucking slow till he gets inside deep inside you.

His own personal toy, an ill-thought with a stark contrast over his gentle caress over your hair and cheek.

You weren’t asleep apparently, wondering if he’s about to do his first move but it gave you a mild surprise when the side of the bed was empty, the doors were closed and this bizarre serenity engulfing this room baffles you at most. You sighed through your nose, going through all your plans for tomorrow. Another day, another day.

Morning breathes its way through the sky once again. 8 o’clock strikes. Birds chirping in their own unique melody.

Today was the first morning. The first step of your plans in making the boy fall for you even harder than yesterday, you thought so as you stretched your arms upwards, pulling off the blankets from your body before standing up, looking around until you saw a sticky note on the table.

I’m out for groceries, i’ll be back before dawn. So don’t worry and make yourself feel like you’re home :) — Heeseung.

G-groceries? Your eyes twitched in annoyance as he would have woken you up and you’d had the chance to form a closer bond with him and yet he chose to do this? Fuck. Puffing in annoyance, you instead inspected the entire apartment.

“Home?” you inhaled the fresh scent engulfing the living room however the word tastes bitter on the tip of your tongue, though. You went around checking one and each of his belongings and to your surprise, there wasn’t that much of his things inside his room. It was fairly empty consisting of only the bed with blue sheets, and a few minor stuff. It was as if he didn't really live in this place.

As if his claims of living in this place since last year were mere lies. Weird, you thought.

Orange sunset poured over the blue rooftop. A soft chime, door creaking and faint sound of heels approaching. Ruffling his hair, there Heeseung came back in his casual fit, holding a bunch of plastic bags in his hands. His eyes fell upon your figure laying on the couch sound asleep with the TV turn on. The screen shone on the edges of your face.

You were truly a breathtaking sight as he watched you sleeping peacefully just like the precious and well taken care of you are.

He went to the kitchen, arranging the groceries he brought; one by one, to their respective categories; eggs, vegetables, meat, fish, beverages. This was the first time in awhile since he filled up the refrigerator, and even more so he couldn't help but chuckle over how insane he was for going this far — to the point he would treat you so well and good and then crush it sooner and later. Yet he couldn’t be bothered to cook for today as he wanted to test how far you were in your gullibility—lips tugged up in a small smirk as he separated the dishes he bought and placed them on the plate.

Eyes fluttering open at the sound of running water, you look over your shoulder to see him, preparing dinner. Train of memories flashes through your mind which had splattered a deep frown on your face.

"(Name)! Come here! C'mon, taste the food I made."

"Does it taste good?"

"Stop it! (Name)! Look, your lips are messy now. Cute."

Huh. What a bummer. Empty, hollow gaze quickly replaced with a beaming expression as your lips tugged up in a small grin, getting up on your feet as you strode off to the dining room to look at the dishes on the counter.

"Wah!" you sniffed in the dishes, “It smells so good.”

A low chuckle emitted from him, "Not that good, just learned it by myself. After all, I lived alone so it's only wise to learn some little life skills."

"It's still amazing.. Not all are can cook this good." you bit your lip. “Next time, c-can you let me accompany you outside for groceries, if you allow me that is.”

Heeseung looks down at you, your head hanging low makes him wonder if you’re really this painfully shy without him.

“Then let’s get you new boots and fits before we go out for groceries tomorrow.”

"R-really?"

Looking out from the window, today’s weather was calming to say the least. Placing the dishes on the table, you two sat together for dinner.

“Sr. Heeseung. Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a therapist.”

“Ha, I-i see..” you nodded.

“It’s a draining career, do you know my patient often racks up all the stuff after a meeting?” You feign laughter.

“How about you? What did you do before you happened to be in that place?” Heeseung asked.

Paused in mild surprise, you chuckled in an awkward manner. “I-I’m an artist.”

Munching the food in his mouth to pieces, his eyes widened slightly at your response, “Woah, an artist? That’s cool! What do you draw? Portraits? Animals?”

“Mostly portraits.” you answered, looking down to your plate. “If you want, I can draw a portrait of you, sir.”

“I would love to, but..” Heeseung pauses, lowering his spoon down to his plate. “Before that, it’s better to drop off the formals, you know? You no longer have to call me sir. Just call me Heeseung, after all we're the same age, aren’t we?”

“I-I don’t know if I can do that, sir—”

“C’mon just call me by my name.” he whined like a child.

“H-hee..”

His intense orbs looking into yours, as if hypnotising you even further. “I can’t hear you.” pouting, he pulls you closer.

“H-heeseung?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Louder.”

You had this growing smirk inside you as you could sense the atmosphere growing thicker and the tension between you was turning into a whole new different vibe—your plan doing its wonders. Closer, closer, you wanted him to get close to you.

“-Heeseung.”

“Good, try again!”

“Heeseung.” you repeated.

“Good girl,” immense satisfaction adorned his lips as he leaned in closer to your ears which made you close your eyes yet only his hand patting your head softly were what you felt before he pulled away, piling up the empty plates on the table.

Your eyebrow raises in confusion “Huh?” why didn’t he?-

“Sir— no, H-heeseung.. Why?” you couldn’t help but stutter at the bizarre outcome.

“Why? You should go back to rest soon, don’t worry I’ll do the dishes this time.”

A visible vein pops up in your neck in utter disbelief before you tugged his sleeves. “I-i..”

“Hm? Is there something wrong?”

Tightening your grip on the hem of his sleeve, you looked up with glassy eyes. “I–.. I don’t wanna sleep yet.”

“Oh, really?” Heeseung brushes his finger against your cheeks. “Alright.”

“Teng! You’re out!”

The fuck? Your eyes twitched at the barrage of chaos before you; the formed lego Thor’s hammer after year's worth of blood, sweat and tears—boards of puzzles with its pieces scattered on the floor, and the man himself pulling out a wooden block out from this piled wooden blocks on top of each other.

T-the fuck we playing Jenga for?! Your eyes widened immense disbelief.

“S-sir—”

“It’s your turn!” faint claps emitting from the friction of his palms as he beamed at you, acting like an almost different man from a few hours ago. Trying your best to keep your disguise up as you pulled out the wooden block carefully, muttering a thousand curses to yourself—this wasn’t your fucking plan.

Sniffing a huge deal of air, you reassured yourself. It’s okay, it’s okay. We still have tomorrow—

“AH! IT FELL! THE LEGO (NAME)!”

Third day. Beaming sun hiding behind the gold veined clouds, painted sea sky with tall high buildings intertwined with its glory peeking from your curtained windows. Yet as serene as it looks, you were pissed. You were consumed with utter impatience. Dried eyes gazing at the ceiling, poking your tongue inside your cheek in attempts to soothe yourself from your short temper tendencies.

That guy should’ve been snuck in between your legs by now, not play silly stupid children games till 4am in the morning. It has never happened this way before. What is he trying to plan, huh? You raised your eyebrow gathering a new wave of determination. Today he’ll succumb to your temptation afterall.

You went to the living room after freshening up, taken aback by the man standing still in the living room—wearing office attire or more something between that.

"You had work?.."

"Oh yes, I do. Got a few clients to attend to." you observed as Heeseung meticulously puts on his tie around his collar, “I’m sorry, I know I promise we’re going out to get your boots but tomorrow okay?”

Fuck what? He’s going to work .. today?! You snapped your head to the open calendar on top of the table, your eyes twitching yet softened in a swift manner when you looked up to him. “Y-you don’t have to apologise, Sr. Heeseung.”

He looks at you with concern. "Are you sure you can stay here?"

"I already appreciate it enough that you trusted me enough to let me stay here. Thank you."

Accompanying him through the door, you observed as he put on his leather shoes and at him; slicked back hair, white shirt with dotted blue tie and the black coat hanging on his arms paired with the black pants. Tall frame, dreamy eyes and faint cherry lips—a totally different image from yesterday, you snickered in the back of your head.

“By the way..”

Pulled away from your deep thought, “H-hm?”

“Uh, sorry for yesterday too. I might’ve gone overboard with those games that you didn’t get a good night's rest.” he pursed his lips in an abashed manner.

Taken aback, you shook your head. “I enjoyed it! It was fun, and nice. I— I’ve never had anyone to play with before so it’s a first time for me..” you looked down, “Thank you for that.”

Gentle caresses of his hand against your cheeks had your eyes widened, “I’m glad to hear that then.” his lips tugged up ever so slightly, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Wait for me to come back home, okay?”

Letting out a deep, long, dejected sigh that consumes the entire living room as you put your hands on your sides, looking down in immense of what the fuck. “Who cares for those useless boots anyways, when I got your feisty watches over here?” smirking as you did so, grabbing each and one of his precious items that you could sell later for good use.

Knock! Knock!

“Huh? Is he already back?” you furrowed your eyebrows at the entrance of the apartment before taking small steps and slowly opening it.

Heeseung grabbed ahold of his coat and threw it in his car as he drove off to the city, striding along the street till he stopped by in front of a luxury high end restaurant. Elite and expensive. People with high social status spilling in and out from this place.

Brushing his slicked back hair as he puts on his usual gentleman persona, the main entrance opened for him.

"Heeseung-ah! God, where the fuck have you been? Why aren't you answering my calls?!"

The voice was enough to make him roll his eyes to the back of his head but he suppressed the need to do so as he wanted to end this as effortless as he can and as trouble-free as it can be.

"WHAT?!" the cup stumbles upon the hard slam of the girl's hand to the table, "Did I hear you right? You want to break up with me?! Gaeul? Me?"

Heeseung sighed as he wiped the edges of his lips with a wet wipe, "Yes you did. Let’s break up."

"No but why?! Our relationship was so good all this time, didn't our last date go well? So why?—"

"We don't click, Ms. Gaeul. That's all. It would be better if we end it now and just try to become good friends instead."

"H-huh?" Gaeul scoffed irritably, "After all the things I've done for you? Okay, fuck. Then give me the Rolex watch, the Gucci fucking handbag, the LV and Nike shoes—"

"Okay sure."

"Fucking what?!" Gaeul couldn't believe it, "Just what had happened to you?! Why are you so adamant in leaving me? Did you have a girl or something? Heeseung!"

A soft yawn escaped from the young man as his gaze travelled all around the patterned designs of the restaurant, how beautiful.

"Lee Heeseung!"

"Oh god, Gaeul. Do you have to embarrass yourself even further? I thought you're better than that." Heeseung couldn't help but be baffled, it's not like he's so die hard for money, even so he only did all these for pure joy. Money, women, games. All of it was a game.

Death silence consumes the two of them as a series of hiss emitted from the blonde haired girl.

"Fuck, it's not like you're the only man I got. You—" Gaeul pointed at him as her jaw gritted, "I had a lot more men lining up for me, you're not the only one."

"Then I'm happy to hear that, Ms. Gaeul."

Gaeul leans back, sniffing through her nose in attempts to cool herself down. "Still, I had a party next week. My father will be over, you're invited—"

"I don't think I can come to the party." Heeseung got up on his feet. "We are only friends right now, Ms. Gaeul-ssi."

"Fuck don't worry, will you?" Gaeul tilted her head, ruffling her blonde hair, "Bring your girl or whatever you can think of, I'll bring my man. How about we see whether we're over or not, Heeseung?"

A game. How sweet. Heeseung loves the thrill of being challenged. So why not?

"Sure, why not?"

An audible groan emitted from the young man when as soon he went back inside his exquisite car, his phone rang vigorously in his pockets. His eyebrows furrowed upon a suspicious number. "Yes, who's this?" A long deep pause, in which suddenly Heeseung's eyes widened along with furrowed eyebrows. “What?!”

“Sr. Heeseung!”

“(Name), what happened?”

“I– i’m so-sorry,” you sniffed uncontrollably, “Th-they were barging and all and I couldn’t help b-but..”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, explain it to me properly so I’ll know what to do.” Heeseung brought you closer to his embrace, patting your head.

“I- I hit them with y-your pan—”

“My pan?” Heeseung’s eyes popped out, jaw dropping.

Your teary eyes keeps spilling out tears, “Y-yeah, and–”

A series of wailing and mouthy ruckus emits from the back of the police station, “Bitch! That woman is a bitch! Don’t trust her!”

“You fucking watch your mouth.” Heeseung spat out.

“Heeseung-ah! What kind of woman had you brought into your apartment? She’s the spawn of a devil!!”

“Yeah right!” says the man, sobbing as he pressed the white towel covered in ice onto his bruised eyes, hissing in pain as he did so.

“Well, if it wasn’t you trying to barge into my apartment then she wouldn’t have to be this nervous and scared, all because of you.” Heeseung raised his eyebrow.

“S-SCARED? N-NERVOUS? T-THE T-T- FUCK? AM I HEARING YOU RIGHT?!” another man with a bulging eye whines from the back seat.

“SHE FUCKING BEAT US TO DEATH!” they all screamed in unison.

. . . rewind

“Hello?” your eyes fell on a bunch of unfamiliar faces standing in front of the door—three guys; two were drunk and another sober, with a girl whose eyes peering at you like there's no tomorrow.

“Fuck I told you I was right!” the girl whined like a child.

You were met with a barrage of nonsenses thrown at you. The girl was whiny and desperate, asking where Heeseung was or who are you and where you came from, what you were doing here and sorta all of that. From the way she acts, you concluded that she was a piece of bitch dying for Heeseung’s attention. Not only that, the men beside her seems to be her friends which reminds you of the saying; bad apples would soon consume the rest of the good apples.

Pathetic, you thought and yet you’re still keeping up your sweet persona.

Till it unfortunately hits your nerves. “Please kindly get lost.”

“I told you right, if it wasn’t— fuck what?” The girl blinks twice, “D-did i hear you right, miss girl?”

“Yeah she told you to get lost.”

“Shut up!” the girl snapped at her cousin. “Did you just really–”

“Yeah I said get lost.” nonchalantly you say, fed up with keeping up your persona in front of useless pieces of shits not even tangled with your mission so who cares if they do know the real you?

“Pfft!” the girl held her sides, bursting into laughter. “Oh god, a petite girl like you having the nerves to tell us to get lost? Look at yourself first! You’re so petite that the wind can carry you!”

Staying silent as you can as you wait for her to finish her nonsense, “Are you done?”

“Yah. Bitch—”

“Fine then, wait for a min.” you shut the door right to their face much to their protests, until a few minutes later you stepped out of the door with the round object in your tight grasp.

“F-fuck—”

“Hm.. Now you got my attention, you son of a bitch.”

Grab!

"Sir," echoes a gut wrenching scream from the man himself as you bend his arm, twisting it till his shoulder spun to an unstable joint. "It would be nice if you tone it down as," you leaned in to whisper to his ear, "It's never wise to act bold in a territory you don't belong to."

"Who are you?!" it came out as a whisper laced in downright dread as before him, "Fuck help me! Oh my god— my arm, my arm!!"

You pulled away much to the man's outburst of pain, spun your heels around and snapping your fingers up in the air, a faint click almost resembling the sound of a flicking violin, your lips tugging up in a menacing smirk. You dodged the punch and kicked them by launching your leg up to the air, snapping the guys arm in a gut-wrenching sound.

The girl's jaw dropped in utter shock and disbelief with her hands cupping her mouth, letting out a gut-wrenching scream which alerted the entire neighbourhood.

end. . .

Crows cawing from afar as they finish off their story, your quivered form suppressing the need to roll your laughter from bursting into the air behind Heeseung.

A sigh left Heeseung’s mouth, “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. She?” he gestured at you and then back at them, “Beat all of you?”

Heeseung looked up at the ceiling seemingly fed up with the entire ordeal, memories flashing back to when he first met you eventually shaking his head.

“Okay then if you won’t believe us! But there’s a CCTV on your door right, let’s check that then and you’ll see we were telling the fucking truth!”

What's the use? You sighed. They won't even find that footage anyways as your minions had settle everything effortlessly. Pouting your lips with your crossed arms as you tilted your head to look at the computer screen blank and empty.

"I think there has been a malfunction—"

"WHAT?! YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!" The ruckus had your ear bleeding into pain, not wanting to be there any longer.

Tugging his coat, “Sir.. Can we just g-go back home?”

“Okay, I'll settle this real quick so they won’t bother you anymore okay?”

It didn't took long, actually. As he finally came back with that same smile on his face after telling you that the girl and her friends will be subjected to stay in the cell for a few days. Feigning a solemn face yet inside you were giggling.

“I- greatly apologise over what happened, though! I'm putting you in so much trouble.” you bow down in which Heeseung shrugs, shaking his head in a small smile.

“Ya, ya. Don’t mind it, sometimes we just can't avoid problems.” he patted your head in a gentle manner.

“Do you know them though..?”

“They’re just my neighbour after staying here for over a year. Hm, it’s just that I rarely talk with them.” you nodded still hanging your head down to make yourself look pitiful in front of him. “Hey, I guess we got the chance then to go outside for boots and new fits?”

Your eyes glints at the chance presenting itself before you, feigning an awkward laughter. “Sr. Heeseung. I couldn’t thank you enough with all these things you’re doing for me.”

“If you appreciate it then let's go, I'm going to buy one for myself too!”

So here you are with Heeseung inside a luxury store much to your surprise. Was he flaunting his money to you? By the looks of it, it was kinda obvious and you kept the growing amusement on your face from surfacing as he strolls over the sides, pausing every now and then to show you a piece of fit and asking you which one you like.

Nevertheless, you feigned a series of Pikachu faces whenever he pulls a dress with its price tag looming over you like a tsunami—when in fact, you're dying to have it and possibly sell it after. Let's just say, you got what you wanted.

You two strode off to take cover under the gazebo in the park as soft droplets of rain fell upon the both of you and a faint clap of thunder echoed in this city and soon the street had been drenched in endless pit-patter.

The shopping bags sat upright on the bench. Faint clap of softened raindrops hit the street, round puddles arising with the accumulated rain, and a green frog hops on the way to the side of the bench. The cool breeze caresses against your skin.

“The rain is so pretty.” you breathe out. Somehow this time, your words were true. You turned to look at Heeseung whose face was rather dull as he gazed out at the street. "W-what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Rain is not really my favourite thing to see." He answered.

You didn't question any further as it seems that he was emitting desolation from such a question and instead you asked something else, "How was work?"

"Uh, quite a wreck inside there not gonna lie." Heeseung lets out a soft tsk, “There’s this girl growling like a mad dog, kinda a karen if you know what that means—” he pauses after your expression contorting into confusion, “A Karen is that overly sensitive person who tries their best to ruin everyone’s day.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ even when you are fully aware of what it means, just making sure you look dumb enough before his eyes when you realise you were observing him for too long; his sublime face with raindrops trailing down his rosy cheek and tan skin, his bangs sticking to his eyelids as he brushes off the remaining raindrops off his drenched black coat.

Stop looking at him, why are you doing this? Snapping your head back to the sublime scenery of the rain hitting the ground, the sound was as if someone was playing piano through the rain and the main difference was the rain was the song.

Heeseung turn his attention back on you in which his heart skipped a beat. Your drenched white shirt, which hugs your hips down with your head hanging low, fingers fiddling the hem of your old pink grandma skirt. You truly look so innocent, he thought.

“You know, just stay with me." He suddenly voice out much to your surprise. "You don’t have to go back home to that kind of people who don't deserve to be called your parents, it just doesn’t seem right.” Heeseung said, “Just let me take care of you, please?

You didn't give an answer, waiting for him to say more before you could give a fitting response to him. Waiting to see how smitten he is for you. "W-what do you mean, s-sir?"

“It just.. feels lonely nowadays, and I don’t mind having another person to stay with. You know what I mean?”

You shook your head slightly yet your heart skipped a beat in utter excitement over your plan succeeding.

“I'll be your friend, we'll take care of each other and then—"

H-huh?! You rolled your eyes at the back of your head in your imagination. Pissed off at the fact that this man still is holding himself back. Sniffing a huge deep breathe in, you turn to face him with a sweet smile on your face. "I would love to!"

Yea right.

A puppy hops in front of you two, its tail wagging and tongue pouring out as it spun multiple times. The sight of the happy puppy brought a genuine smile on your face when just then an old couple came in through.

“Maeumi! Oh, sweetheart. I thought i’d lose you.” the old lady slowly bend her knees, the puppy immediately went to her arms. An old man stood behind her and his gaze fall on you along with Heeseung.

“May we sit here?..” husky and old voice had rubbed your heart in a gentle almost like hug.

You and Heeseung nodded in unison, with a small smile urging them to sit just far right between you. Just now you and him had a fair distance from together but now you were closer to him.

Watching the old couple go about their day somehow gave you this gentle touch of breeze, especially the white puppy wagging its tail beside the old lady’s leg.

‘“Puppies..”

Heeseung notices your heart eyes towards the puppy, tilting his head at you. “It’s adorable.”

“H-hm?!”

“I said it’s adorable, the puppy.” yet his eyes never left you. Is he trying to pull the shit pull and push game?

“I-it is..” you let out an awkward laugh.

“You wanna get puppies together someday? If you want, we could have another tenant together with us in the apartment.”

You unexpectedly let out a small burst of laughter much to your surprise, immediately covering your mouth with your hand with your eyes widening.

“I mean, sure? I- n-never had a puppy before.” your gaze fell on the puppy again, “They’re just so fluffy, and huggable.”

“I can see why.”

Turning your eyes back on him, “Sr. Heeseung, have you had a puppy before?”

Heeseung took a brief pause, deep in thought before answering. “I did as a child, it was cute, noisy and often it won’t leave me alone.”

The old couple’s small gesture towards each other; the grandpa tucking his wife’s hair behind her ear, and the abashed reaction of her—the sun beaming on the edges of their face, pouring soft raindrops behind them and the greeny leaves from the bushes—everything, the scenery was truly breathtaking it had your breath caught off on the back of your throat and one small question beats inside your heart—was this love?

“Are you two, perhaps, lovers?” the grandma suddenly asked such a question resulting in your eyes widening, yet you were unsure of what was Heeseung's reaction as well.

“U-Uh.. no!” you two answered in unison, looking at each other in giggles.

Rubbing his neck as an abashed smile surfaces on his lips, “We-we’re just a friend.”

“I see, perhaps you could ignore my useless opinions but you two could make a great couple.” the grandma spoke as her hand patted the puppy’s head, its tail wagging vigorously.

The question seems to put the two of you back to reality, as this thought echos in the back of your heads—A great couple? What a joke.

A few days have passed since you stayed here and yet nothing ever happens except for some flattering lines or suggestive touches coming from the man himself. To be fair, you’d expected him to give in to you in just two or four days at minimum. You couldn’t let this stretched out this far, though.

You had your minions watched over him for the past couple days and as expected this guy wasn't as innocent as you expected which made you chuckle mischievously.

"Fuck, I knew you weren't that innocent. Men are all the same." A somewhat rather solemn flashes through your eyes but you squint your eyes in return.

You heard Heeseung on the phone, his words trailing to your ears one by one and each of them confirming your suspicion for him. A scoff emits from you, somewhat disappointed but something you got rid of once you took notice of it as if this was even necessary? A lingering hope that is, foolish you. At least the truth unravels itself before you, at least it did. It’s time to get on with the plan, after all—it’s the very reason why you’re even here in the first place.

You just needed this guy to fall for you and make him spend all his money on you, that's all. Money. You need it for the brothel to keep going on. For the girls you promised to protect. You couldn't care any less whether or not he's innocent as an angel or as mischievous as a snake.

Of course, truly he looks dashing and charming for you yet he reminds you of someone else—nevertheless, you could compare him of a perfect man in disguise of an old, reeking money of a playboy, with plenty of girls queuing up in a stretched out line ready to begged on their knees just for a glimpse of his eyes on them.

The sun rose high up in the air when you followed behind Heeseung, to see which kind of girl was he meeting with so you had an idea of what to do with your plan.

"Huh? So he got another chick? Tsk, no wonder." You thought as you followed a few metres away from him. The sight of him having a sweet interaction with the tailor.

You sat on one of the tables in your disguised form; a brown hat, dark sunglasses on the tip of your nose, black coat hugging the sides of your knees as you sit upright, taking a long sip from your freshly made juice as you poured your ear into their conversation.

“You know we can do it together in the changing room—”

Your lungs burst into the juices flowing through your esopaghus, shooting it back up to the tip of your tongue much to your amusement over the bold words chosen–shaking your head in a low audible laughter as you wipe the spilled contents on your coat while muttering a thousand worth of disappointment.

“Well that can wait, love. However, I had a formal party to attend by the end of this week. Would you give me the honour to be the lady standing beside me?”

Huh, party? You raised your eyebrow at those words. Haa.. an idea beams up in your mind upon processing the newly received information—a smirk grew on your face, why not you instead? You had to he the one he’ll take to the event instead and you'll make sure of it.

Well dear, did it take a long time before the pair had finally finished their chit-chat and you hurried back faster to the apartment before Heeseung could. You almost stumble upon the stairs much to your attempt on getting to the front door, tapping the codes all over again and immediately snucking yourself inside.

"The fuck is wrong with them??" Heeseung's eyes widened in such an immense disbelief, scoffing every now here and then with the phone on his hands, unaware of your suppressed cackle as you sat watching the TV.

"...pfft." an audible laughter left your mouth which had Heeseung's attention on yours. You hastily let out another laughter, pointing your finger at the running TV show which had a pair of ducks hopping along the street.

Heeseung having the thought of whether you're that innocent or just dense in the slightest bit.

Of course, you literally hunt down every single chick on his list by ordering your minions from the brothel to handle them.

Oblivious he was to the fact that you went to the shop the other day wearing an attire tremendously different to when you were in Heeseung’s presence; a tight fitting socks, heels turning downwards to the sense it can digs its claws deep inside pervert’s throat, your tight fitting corset hugging your white dress flowing downwards your hips. Nonchalantly you walked through each section of dress, your finger trailing onto all of them as if you didn't know what to pick.

As expected, the tailor lady had her face constantly powdered with the makeup palette on her hand as she stood still in the reception counter, perfectly unaware of her surroundings. Ah, what a perfect day to put out a useless obstacle out of your way.

Your knuckles come into contact on the counter forming a few faint knocks, in which her attention falls on you with eyebrows raised.

“Y'know, take these few bucks and leave." you pushed the check paper to her hands much to her confusion.

"Huh? What are you—"

"Aw, sweetheart. Don't be so dense that you aren't aware that the man you often had inside your pretty little changing room belongs to someone else."

Her eyes widened in fractions, "What? Are you saying Heeseung?—" a fit of scoff escaped her thick red lips, "Miss, who do you think you are, huh? Going around to make up a ridiculous lie? Look at this."

She raises her hand up to your eye level showing you her index finger wrapped in a gleaming diamond ring along with her expression making out a mockery at you.

"Hm, guess I'll have to put you in your place then." You were about to burst into a fit of laughter when her eyeballs were about to pop out upon seeing the picture you had in your phone's lock screen; Heeseung in his deep slumber on his bed. "If I was you, I wouldn't stay with someone like him any longer."

"Then?!" Her voice heightened in rage, "How about you? Obviously he's cheating on you as well!"

"Nuh uh, we'll see about that." you spun around your heel as you lowered down your glasses, taking one last look at her over your shoulder—giving her a smug look.

Let’s just say the woman had her rage thrown at Heeseung; wailing like a hyena and screaming at him through the phone much to his displeasure and the cost of an ear injury. Telling him how horrible he was for making out a fool of her and on and on—yet Heeseung could only roll his eyes, not at all interested at the woman's rage as afterall she was only another toy for him.

Yet, it had his mind going through the vast space as his face were consumed with utter confusion, “Which one of them?..” he couldn’t remember which girl though, and couldn’t be bothered really. He had too many girls wrapped round her finger that he somehow forgot who is who, only paying attention to those who had more benefits to him.

"(Name)."

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I can ask for your help?" Heeseung's doe eyes pleaded with the utmost affection.

Ah finally, the sweet words you were dying to hear. You couldn't contain your grin as you watered the flowers with your back before him, spinning your heels to met his pleading eyes.

"Of course! Tell me, I would be happy to help!"

There he broke the news of him going to the grand formal party and you of course, pretended with putting your best interest regard to his problems.

Heeseung swore he's about to yawn over the thousand times he said this among the plenty of girls he went to.

"It's okay, you can bring me to the party!" you sighed in complete bliss. “But– i don’t really know much of the basic things..” you pursed your lips in an abashed manner, or actually, you lied.

Heeseung exhaled a deep thought before assuring you with a warm rub against your clasped hands, “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

It apparently baffles you that Heeseung went all the way in teaching you the basic etiquettes, unaware that you were actually well knowledgeable in all these stuffs—just fooling the shit out of him by messing it up intentionally—dropping the spoon on the ground, using the fork in a peasant mode, barbaric munching on the 5 star food much to his cringe expression and displeasure and yet he still tried to be as polite as possible.

You had a great time messing up with him, to be honest.

“Still, still.” his arms around your waist as he guided you through the dancing session. Teaching you the basics of waltz and all.

“You’re doing good.” yea sike. You purposely tugged at his sleeve so he can fall on you and your lips brushed against him in a millisecond, feigning utter surprise as you cupped your lips.

“I-I’m sorry!”

A deep chuckle emits from him, “It’s fine, it’s fine. Let's we try again?” his hand extended before you as he helped you on your feet. Your faces so dangerously close to his. You couldn't wait for the day of the party.

To have him beg for your touches, or possibly fall even more for you as you help him through his meetings. What and whatnots, it baffles you that the boy was keeping it slow and steady, a stark contrast from what you heard and saw before you that day. Was his plan to keep you beside him for a fairly long time? Who knows but it does seem to look like it. At first you had this rush flowing through your veins, intending to end all of it at once but now, your plan somehow change–who cares if he wants it slow? You could take all the time in the world as long as he spend his money on you.

Your plan was going entirely well as here you are trying a new fit one after another as Heeseung sat on the couch, eyes fixated on you while you choose which dress suits you the best.

“Which one?” you asked him with a big grin on your lips.

“Hm.. it looks good, try another one though.”

“This one might look good on her, sir.” the tailor pulls out another dress.

Well boy, did it goes on for an eternity before Heeseung and you finally agreed on the dress you wore right now.

“You’re so beautiful.” Heeseung breathe out in downright amazement, eyes refusing to falter from you. “Almost as if.. You were like a different person.”

Heeseung’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes beaming yet laced with confusion as he observed all of you; your rosy cheeks and your shy eyes fluttering away from his intense ones—your finger fiddling the hems of your dresses per your usual habit, licking your lips every now and often. He had to admit you were truly breathtaking as of this very moment.

“Have you decided sir?”

“-O-oh, yes of course.” Heeseung's eyes refuse to leave yours even when the staff talks to him.

He later comes back and approaches with you stars sparkling in his dreamy orbs, reaching his hand out for you to take. "Are you ready?"

Slipping your fingers into his hands, of course you're ready than ever—for him to give in to you tonight, "I'm ready!"

Moonlight embracing the sky, hiding behind the grey veined clouds, illuminating its proof of living onto this tenants of the world.

“Still remember what I taught you? Spoon, fork, the handkerchief—” you nodded with every word coming out from his mouth, going through all of them like a military drill. “You sure you’re okay?” Heeseung squeezed your trembling hands, worried eyes.

Nodding in an apparent smile, “Hm! I can do this.”

“You don’t need to talk much, though. Just stand still, with me. I’ll do the rest of the job. Easy, right?” He rubs your hand.

You look out from the window where the grand party was centred at. The scent of elite class and old money all gathered in this high end hotel.

Nothing new, apparently for you—it was another routine, a specific situation you were trained in. These little etiquettes and manners, you’ve mastered them so well. After this night, you’ll take the first move. You won’t let this day pass without achieving the grandeur of your plan—make him lust for you and kneel before you.

With your arms laced around his, the insides of the hotel unravel it’s magnificent scene as you and him went inside. Men and women in expensive attire, those with social status alike—the elite ones—gathered in this event. Low volume of waltz, an enormous choir and a whole orchestra playing in the background. Clink clanks of champagne glasses, red wine pouring onto the fountain of glasses, waitresses and waiters striding all over the space to deliver and attend to each guest. The bright glowing chandelier, emitting its orange hues—a sublime mood of fantasia.

Yet it brought your heart a fit of pang. All too familiar it was, isnt?

"Oh, so this is your new girl?" A blonde haired girl presents herself before you when you turn around—her fit consisting of a dark blue dress, hugging her fairly thin waist, the collars drooped down to show her bare collarbones yet the big fat diamond necklace round her neck adorned her overalls. Her fingers twirling the glass of half filled champagne, thick red lips adorning her face.

“Gaeul.” Heeseung confirms her presence, his hand wrapping your waist. Ah so Gaeul was her name?

"Wow, she looks so damn off, like ugh I get the villager type." Another girl appeared alongside Gaeul. Her aura exudes immense elegance as her flowy dark brown hair hugs down to her arms.

"I know right?"

"Just stop it. Gaeul, Yujin." Heeseung spat out, but then the father of the girl came and he excused himself to have a talk with the father. “She’s just–”

An old man appeared at sight with his hands on his back, an intimidating aura emitting from him as he observed each and one of you. “Dad. Look, can you believe that Heeseung will replace me with this girl? Can you talk him back to his senses, please?”

Gaeul’s father observes you meticulously before nodding and telling Heeseung to follow him.

There's an obvious hesitance in Heeseung's eyes yet whispers into your ears, “I’ll be back, okay? Just ignore them.” before disappearing into the spilling crowd, they must’ve gone inside the building you thought.

"So? How does it feel to have your feet on an elite party? Happy?" You turn to look at Gaeul's mockery eyes at you and Yujin's chuckling behind her.

Honestly, years of staying in the brothel had given you immunity to such people as you were subjected to horrors people couldn't even fathom—as all sorts of men and women had done unspeakable things either on you or on someone—they were cunning, rude, loud, physically abusive, they drained you out of your mind like a bloodsucker and all sorts of thing to the point you could say that these two are what you would call—

"Pathetic." You breathed out and it's safe to say that they heard you as expected from their exaggerated reaction.

"W-what?" Gaeul scoffed as she blinked in an abnormal pace, "What did you just say?"

"Pathetic, bitch, pathetic." You repeated before her, amused you were as her jaw dropped even further.

"Fuck? Watch your mouth, please! Who do you think you are?!" She tugged down your dress resulting in a huge slit almost revealing your thighs causing you to let out a yelp. "Now it suits you better, slutty bitch."

"Everyone!" Yujin clapped her hands up in the air—a series of gasps and murmurs emitted from the spectators themselves. The spotlight of the party was now on you. Fuck, you thought.

"You know..—" you were interrupted by a familiar silhouette grabs your attention from your side eye, your heart dropped upon laying your eyes on the particular person approaching.

“Huh, what's with the commotion, ladies? Chill abit, will you?” Familiar voice that sent chills down your spine, his slicked back hair, exquisite suit, that same smile you adore and grown to despise, his sparkling eyes under the lights. His whole being holding a pure weight of your past.

“Jay!” Yujin called out with a big wide smile on her face, a stark contrast from her intimidating aura a few minutes ago. You spun around without much hesitation wanting to leave as soon as you can before Gaeul tugs your arm.

"Where the fuck you think you're going? We're not done yet!"

"(Name)!" Heeseung appeared, surprise etched all over his face as he sees the entire commotion. "Fuck, let her go! Why are you so desperate like this!"

"Ugh!" Gaeul stumbled a few steps backwards as Heeseung pry off her hands from yours.

"(Name)? (Name)?" Snapped out from your oblivion of despair, you looked into Heeseung's eyes with your teary ones. "A-are?— What's wrong?"

Your eyes begin to burn in a sea of tears, gathering your entire strength to pull it in. Don’t fall. Don’t fall. It’s okay. It's okay you tell yourself however your trembling lips show otherwise, your clenched fist shivering not in freezing weather but the burning heat in your heart strings.

“Are you okay? Is it too cold for you? You know we can go back home if you want to, right?” Heeseung rubs his hands on your bare arms to provide a sense of warmth.

“N-no, i’m fine, i’m f-fine..” choking on your tears you did, don’t cry. No fuck, you can’t. “I w-want to go home. I really want to go home—”

“Wait?" as if a strong force pulled you back, “Am I seeing this right?” his familiar voice had you frozen much to Heeseung’s surprise. ”Is that you, (Name)?"

Yeah, it's me. You want to spin around and shout this at his face. The man who you gave your whole trust and love. The man who you wish for his loving touches, his familiar voice and affectionate words. The man who sold you off to the brothel. Your eyes began to tear up, darting relentlessly to prevent it from falling, you trembled under Heeseung’s arms.

The man who you’d thought to be the prince in your once fairy tale book. The man who sold you off to the brothel—Park Jay.

You and Heeseung turned to face them, and just like you—his nonchalant expression mirrored yours but brewed in an immense surprise. His mouth open, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned you up and down. "(Name)? I-Is that you?"

"Heh? You know her?!" others asked in utter surprise.

"I—I d-don't know what you're talking about?" You feigned a composed smile, yet deep inside you are crumbling into tiny pieces of shards with every passing minute of your eyes on him.

"Wait, you're not (Name)? That's weird. You really do look like her. You two had the same name though, except.." Jay chuckled, shaking his head.

"Why? Is there something about her?" Yujin asked with curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

A low cackle emits from him, "No idea. Just a random girl I met in a brothel. A prostitute, that is."

"What the fuck, you went into a brothel??"

"C'mon babe, it's almost 10 years ago. You can't be jealous." His amused face irks you, ripping your heartstrings apart as you observe him leaning down pressing a soft kiss against the young lady’s lips.

A random girl. A prostitute. You bit your lip in attempts to suppress your sobs. Crumbling you were in this hellhole of a reeking betrayal, a betrayal made up of lies.

“Then where are you from then? It’s just amusing, really—that I could meet two separate people with the same identical face. So I was wondering, who are you then?” his eyebrows raised in a comical way, waiting for your response.

Answer something. Something.

A firm squeeze on your bare arms had you looking up to the person in question, his eyes looking down to you in a comforting one, almost like home.

"I'd prefer you not compare her to such a vulgar term, Jay. Watch the way you speak to my future wife."

“Future wife?!”

🐾AUTHOR'S NOTE — thank you for reading my story and have a nice day :))

289 notes · View notes

innytoes · 7 months

Note

Hello, please do prompt 21 for willex!! So excited!

And also for @legolasghosty who asked for the same with Willex(ie). Because you all love the giant skeleton prompt lol.

You'd think after several months of being crammed into a tour bus during their first tour ever, Alex would have cringed at the idea of pooling their money to buy a house together as a band. But it wasn't like they were making Mansion Money (not yet! the Bobby in his mind shouted), and well, he kind of liked their little house. He liked seeing his friends every day. They each had their own bedroom, they converted the garage into a music studio, and there were enough bathrooms that nobody wanted to murder the others on a regular basis.

The house was in a nice neighbourhood, but nice in the way that people smiled and nodded at each other on the street, not nice as in 'everyone's lawn is immaculate and exactly according to HOA standards'. The house on the corner had an alarming amount of garden gnomes, there was a Little Free Library a few houses down, and apparently people went kind of hard decorating for the holidays.

Reggie had been more than happy to sweet talk the little old lady with the Pomeranian from down the street into giving up her source for decorative gourds. But it wasn't enough, so they decided to plan a trip to the nearest Spirit Halloween.

It wasn't like they planned to come home with a twelve foot skeleton. But it was there, and it was awesome, and when Alex had tried to object, Luke had turned to him with a: "We're the adults now, bro. We get to decide what that means."

And well, how could Alex object to that?

"Okay," he'd agreed. "But only if we can rig it so he's holding a pride flag."

And so, Clyde The Pride Skeleton was erected in their front yard, much to the delight of a lot of their neighbours. It wasn't uncommon for people to stop and take pictures, for little kids to shout HI CLYDE on their way to school, and for the local teens to salute him while biking past. Alex kind of loved it.

So yeah, he wasn't particularly upset to find a stranger in their front yard taking selfies with Clyde. The skeleton was located far enough to the front of their yard and they had enough greenery and porch between him and the house that their privacy wasn't exactly compromised. And well, who wouldn't want a picture with a giant gay skeleton?

The thing that was alarming was how this guy was taking selfies.

Because he was on stilts. Stilts high enough that when Alex looked out of his bedroom window, he was face to face with the beautiful, handsome, insane stranger in the front yard.

"Hi! I love your skeleton!" the guy called, waving as Alex opened up his widow in alarm.

"What the hell are you doing?" he called, a little alarmed. The guy was really, really high up.

"Taking a selfie?" Stilt Guy responded, wiggling his phone a little for emphasis.

"Okay," Alex huffed to himself, because obviously. "Why are you on stilts?"

"Oh!" the guy beamed. "Because else I couldn't get his face and my face in the frame!"

Which made a weird kind of sense but also who had giant stilts just lying around? How far had this guy walked with (on? that was a terrifying thought) giant stilts just to get a selfie with Clyde.

The guy moved around the skeleton, coming up to the window, and while Alex thought he should probably be more concerned, the closer the guy got, the more he realised he was very, very pretty. Besides, if he was a creep, he'd be easy to topple over.

"I'm Willie!" Stilt Guy said.

"Alex," Alex said. "Do you always have giant stilts with you, or did you make a special trip just to meet Clyde?"

"His name is Clyde?" Willie's smile became even wider. "I mean, I had them in my backpack, I just did a shift at the Hollywood Ghost Carnival. They're collapsible. You'd be surprised how handy they can be!"

"Uhuh. I bet you rescue a lot of kittens stuck in trees," Alex said sarcastically, and okay, maybe a little flirtatiously. Listen, it wasn't ever day that a handsome stranger hovered outside your bedroom window wanting to chat.

And so they did. For like half an hour, Alex sitting in the window sill and Willie shuffling around on his stilts. He told the story of Clyde the Pride Skeleton, Willie told him about his job at the Carnival, and they both flirted up a storm.

Alex was just about to offer Willie to come inside (through the window, through the front door, whatever would be easier in the giant stilts), when Reggie came running down the street.

"Guys, do we have a ladder?" he called. "Mr Emerson's cat is stuck in a tree in front of the Molina's house and she sounds so sad, we gotta help her out!"

Willie met his eyes. The mischievous smile was back.

Alex groaned. Okay, so he'd been proven wrong. "Actually I think we got something that will work!" he called down, and when Reggie turned to look, his face lit up.

Maybe afterwards, they could still grab a coffee or something. You know, on the ground like normal people.

#julie and the phantoms #willex #with vague reggiexalexxwillie vibes at the end there #fanfic #I wrote a thing #luke tries the 'we get to decide how to be adults' line on Alex more than once but it doesn't work for 'icecream for dinner 3 days in a row #willie would just strap on some stilts and take selfies with a giant skeleton

39 notes · View notes

lykoi-licks · 5 months

Text

Clothjectum | fabric objectum

A type of objectum (link) attraction felt towards fabric objects/items/things. This label can include:

- furniture (fabric couches, fabric lawn-chairs, mattresses, fabric encased chests, so on)

- clothing, blankets, towels, bedding (sheets, pillowcases, so on), fursuits, etc.

- plush toys, pillows, fabric decor (flags, fabric ornaments, so on), etc.

- cuts of fabric (a rectangle/strip/scrap/so on of material that has yet to be created into anything more)

- carpets, mats, rugs, etc.

- bags, such as purses, backpacks, fanny packs, etc

- non-bag accessories, such as bandannas, scrunchies, scarves, etc

- objects one usually wouldn't find attractive (such as the

arm of a wooden chair) that have been wrapped up in

fabric

- packaging options such as organza bags, silk sacks,

drawstring parcels, etc.

- any other fabric-based stuff I forgot :3

[“fabric” includes anything from (faux) fur, to (faux) leather, to cotton, to spandex, etc. anything that can be considered fabric falls under this. this is intended to be a very broad label that can be changed via personal attraction! someone might be attracted to all fabrics, a select group, most but not all, etc.]

Clothjectix | fabric objectix

A type of objectix (link) attraction felt towards fabric objects/items/things. A type of attraction felt towards fabric objects/items/things specifically made for non-posic beings.

Clothjectra | fabric objectra

A type of objectra (link) attraction felt towards fabric objects/items/things. A type of attraction felt towards fabric objects/items/things that falls under both clothjectum and clothjectix.

Tagging @object-concept-archive for reach, tell me to untag if needed /srs

I’ve seen labels like this for individual things (eg. plushies, blankets, pillows) (3 links) but not for multiple (which I’m starting to think I experience.) Flag colours are supposed to represent common colours used in material-production (black, grey, white, blue and red.)

These labels may fall under multum, (link) but only if one chooses to consider it such.

#objectum #objectum coining #objectum flag #objectra #objectra coining #objectra flag #objectix #objectix coining #objectix flag #multum #flag coining #orientation flag #mogai orientation #Clothjectra #Clothjectum #clothjectix #attraction to fabric #pemogai

29 notes · View notes

hobisfavoritespritecan · 2 years

Text

Got Something of Mine, Harrington?

Billy Hargrove X Reader x Steve Harrington

You decide to take Steve up on his offer to hang out in hopes that you can rekindle the part of you that still believed in love. What happens when your ex decides to show up and claim you're his?

⚠️ Warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, possessive behavior, toxic relationships, insecurity, past trauma, sexual innuendos, and angst ⚠️

(This is a choose your own adventure type layout, so whether you're rooting for Steve or Billy, you'll be able to read what joining their side would ensue)

It was only supposed to be a fun night with Steve. He had asked you to hang at his place once he saw that you had finally broken up with that shitty boyfriend of yours, trying to provide you with comfort and a good time. Steve was handsome, sure. But he had made his move a bit too fast after things had gone south with Billy. His charming smile and light touches had drawn you into all that he had to offer and who could say no to how sweet he had been? Exchanged glances from opposite ends of the room and notes passed back and forth, it was only a matter of time before Steve waltzed into your life and tried to sweep you off your feet. You only wished the circumstances could've been different.

Steve lived in the upper end of Hawkins; the richer and snobbier folks in town who listened to baseball games on the radio and held monthly barbeques. The houses were all lined up in a nice row with a patch of grass in between them with white picket fences and gardens that belonged on the front pages of magazines. Steve's house was further down the cul-de-sac and was the only one that had a lawn so big that a fence would look obnoxious around it. A bright blue house with white shudders and a white door to match, it looked picturesque and almost fake as though it were made out of clay. Apparently, the Harringtons had big hair and even bigger egos.

Knocking on his front door, you nervously tap your shoes against each other as you wait for him to open it and let you in. You took a couple glances around the perimeter of his house, still not fully used to being out on your own. Your dress was slightly provocative, but it was one of your favorites. Your ex had refused you the right to show it off to anyone other than him, one of the many bullets on the long list of his red flags chalked up in your mind. You had never been able to wear it out before, so this would be the first time anyone had seen it. The thought of Steve complimenting you on it filled your stomach with butterflies- dating again was going to be fun.

"Hey! There you are!" Steve opened up the door and smiled. The warm yellow light streamed down from the foyer and onto the front steps you were standing on. Almost immediately, the night felt more inviting and friendly as you basked in it, taking note of how wonderfully it shone onto the pavement below. Only when Steve shifted towards the frame to lean against it did you notice how he looked tonight. He was wearing a nice black button up with dark jeans. His hair had been tossed into a perfect spiral and you could smell the fresh products he'd used to style it. He looked really nice. A happy feeling took root in the pit of your stomach and encouraged you to follow him inside.

"Hey!" You said, throwing the enthusiasm back at him. As he led you towards the kitchen, you noticed just how nice the interior of the Harrington household was. It totally matched the modern exterior as there were abstract looking paintings hanging everywhere and the walls were painted grey. His floors were freshly cleaned too, sparkling tiles that refracted the light throughout the room. The entryway connected to the very yellow kitchen that was decorated with floral paraphernalia. Stepping further you noticed a picture of Steve hanging on the wall from middle school and you suppressed a laugh at how ridiculous it looked.

"Oh no! I forgot to take that down." Steve laughed and covered up the picture with his hands, giving you a dorky apologetic look. You laughed too, finding his impulsive embarrassment to be cute.

"It's okay, I think little Steve would be pleased to know that his hair gets better once he hits highschool." You said, earning another laugh from the boy in front of you. He pushed his hands into his pockets and a wave of expensive and good-smelling cologne filled your senses. If you had any doubts about being out tonight, they were gone now as you realized the awkwardness was mutual.

"May I set your jacket down somewhere?" He asked, reaching for the leather that rested upon your shoulders. You smiled, shrugging the heavier fabric off and allowing for him to grab it.

"Woah." He said, taking in the dress you were wearing.

Instant panic filled your vision as you realized you probably went overboard with the outfit. He was dressed so casually yet so elegant that you forgot that you went straight for something a little more formal than what one would wear drinking a couple of beers and sitting by the edge of a backyard pool. "Oh! Sorry, I know it's a lot I just haven't done this in a while and I got excit-"

"-Its perfect." He said, looking at you from top to bottom and then back to your eyes as the corner of his mouth turned up in a suggestive but polite way.

There was an unusual but comfortable silence for a moment before he cleared his throat and motioned his head towards the back. "The pool is behind the house. If you still wanted to go swimming."

You held out your hand for Steve to take and gave him a quick nod. "Absolutely."

He grinned at you and allowed you to lead him outside the kitchen door towards the inground pool. Night had fallen not too long ago and the stars shimmered down on the water below them, the lights from the inside of it reflected the small waves all over the deck. It was pretty and calming and you couldn't help but run your hand through it a couple of times, testing out the temperature. It was fairly warm considering how the night had started to cool down.

"I'm going to grab a couple beers. Would you like one?" Your date asks, smiling down at what you were preoccupied with. You looked back up at him and noticed how pleased he was with your sudden infatuation with the water grazing your fingertips. His eyes were bright and happy and his posture was awkward but confident and you were unsure how those adjectives could exist at the same time for the same human.

"Yes, please." You said, going back to the water and waving your hand around. Once Steve had left, you decided to take off your dress and shoes since your swimsuit was underneath. You had chosen a red bikini for this particular occasion, grinning at the mischievous idea now that Steve had confirmed your dress wasn't too revealing. You decided to wait with your feet in the pool and allowed yourself to take a deep breath and enjoy the silence of Hawkins. The crickets chirping and the cicadas were the only thing to be heard for miles and it was perfect. You could get used to this.

Except you wouldn't be able to. You tried so hard to let things go and to do what's best for you only for that plan to backfire every time you put your mental health first. It was impossible to let yourself go and enjoy just one night free of anxiety and intrusive thoughts. You knew from the moment you heard the Camaro pull up to the front of the house that everything would be ruined; of course you couldn't have started a relationship with anyone new when Billy still believed you belonged to him.

Jumping up and sprinting towards the door, you run inside to see Steve standing with two beers. "Uh is everything okay?" He asked, staring at you with concern. He seemed shocked to see you run in only for him to become somewhat lost when he looked at what it was you were wearing. "Damn...uh...okay we can go there." He said, not taking the cue from you that your rush to the kitchen was because you wanted to warn him what- or rather who- was coming. Your eyes widened in fear and you looked to the front door which was abruptly opened by the devil himself.

Swinging on its hinges and hitting the wall with a forceful hit, the front door was thrown back so harshly that if there was any confusion about who was visiting so late at night it was gone now. Dark red button up with a similar leather jacket to the one you came in with and black jeans, he looked just as terrifying and handsome as you remembered. A cigarette was placed between his lips and an earring shone from his left ear. He smiled that horrible shit-eating grin as he leaned against the doorframe and took a drag of his cigarette before stomping it out on Steve's pretty floor tiles. "Got something of mine, Harrington?" He asked in his gruff and raspy voice that was all too familiar to you.

You looked at Steve in fear and saw that his eyebrows had furrowed and his jaw clenched. He set down the beers on the island before crossing his arms and looking to you and then to Billy. "What the hell's going on here?" He asked, moving to your side; his stance instantly became defensive.

Billy, however, stood calm as ever as if he didn't just barge into a classmate's house at almost midnight. His hair had been slicked back on the sides into the mullet he usually wore it in and his sunglasses were among the mess of golden curly locks as they sat atop his head. He checked you out and whistled before turning to your date with a disgusted look. "Getting naked for another man, baby?" He asked, taking notice of the suimsuit you had on. Your blood boiled. It wasn't fair for him to do this. Not after how he had treated you by forcing you to go to parties of people you hated just so you could sit on his arm and look pretty. Not after he had denied your attempts at trying to love him via physical affection and only wanting you when he felt like it. Not after you had seen just how horribly he treated the kids Steve loved so dearly.

Standing next to Steve, you felt him pull you behind him as he moved to stand in front of you. He rolled up the sleeves to his shirt and looked Billy dead in the eyes. "Got a problem with that Hargrove?" He asked. The minute the words left his mouth you knew he was dead. Not only that, but he had just paid the bill for his coffin and nailed it shut.

Billy laughed and placed his hands in his jeans. "Yeah, I've got a fucking problem with that."

It was as if a switch had been flipped and Billy's confident and fake friendly demeanor changed as he charged towards Steve, pushing his chest forcefully offering to fight over you. Steve pushed back and spit down at the floor.

"Guys. Stop. Billy, you broke up with me a week ago. Fuck off." You said, now becoming more confident and standing in front of Steve to try and save him from your ex.

"So? That was last week. I say you're mine this week." He smiled and shoved you to the ground, pushing you into the picture of Steve. The glass frame shattered and you tried to brace your fall with your hands. This turned into being the worst course of action possible and you were left with deep open gashes along your arms and hands.

"Look what you fucking did to my girl, Harrington." Billy said, walking over to the island and taking a swig of one of the beers. Steve shoved himself into the intruder, punching his face with all of his might and a crack resounded throughout the echoey hallways of the Harrington residence. Billy recoiled slightly, putting his hands up as a trickle of blood ran down from his now broken nose.

"Looks like you've got some fire in you after all, King Steve." Billy said with another fake smile before throwing Steve to the ground and stomping on his hand. You heard his fingers crunch under Billy's boots and he winced in pain, yelling out a curse word before forcing himself back up, clutching his bruised fingers and staring daggers into Billy's eyes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Steve angrily shouted and grabbed a decorative plate out of one of the cabinets in the kitchen, holding it ready at his side to chuck at Billy's head if he needed to.

"What's wrong with me is the fact that you're trying to fuck my girlfriend." He said, moving in towards Steve and wiping his blood on the back of his arm. He put on his tough guy persona with a stance that would instantly turn away even the best of fighters.

"I. Am. Not. Your. Girlfriend." You said, standing up. In the time that Steve and Billy had been arguing, you had enough time to evaluate that your wounds weren't horrible. You had a couple cuts on your feet to match the ones on your hands and arms but other than that, you were fine. You would tell Billy off even with detrimental wounds if it meant saving Steve.

"What was that?" Billy asked, putting a hand behind his ear and pretending as though he couldn't hear what it was you were trying to tell him. So, you told him again.

"I said that I'm not your fucking girlfriend."

Nodding and pursing his lips, he grabs Steve by the collar and throws a punch to his stomach which sends him hurtling to the floor. He grabbed at his abdomen in pain before picking up the plate and chucking it at your ex. It hit him square in the head and you saw a gash starting to form above his eye. Blood dripped down from said gash, travelling down his temple and working its way towards his neck.

"Whoo!" He said, feeling the rush of adrenaline that came with fighting for you. When he had broken up with you -although he would never admit it- it was because he felt as though he wasn't good enough for you. Every word his father had told him had started to take root in his mind and swayed his decisions over whom he felt he was worthy of. But oh, he loved you so much. He wanted the best for you but he never knew how to express it. He wanted more nights like the one where he first opened up to you while the two of you were in his bed, staring up at the posters on the ceiling. He wanted to hold your hands again and remind you of all the reasons he saw you to be the most beautiful human being. It wasn't fair that you had to put up with him, he knew. But there was no way on earth he would ever let you end up with a guy like Harrington.

"Billy, Stop!" You yelled, trying to grab onto his arm only to be shoved out of the way once more. Steve had gotten another plate and threw it, this time missing Billy and sending it hurtling towards the wall behind the two of you. The ceramic shattered and joined the mess of the picture frame.

"I'll stop if you agree to come with me." Billy said, holding Steve by the shirt again with his head facing towards you. He couldn't lose you again. Not this time. Even with all of the thoughts that had driven him away from continuing to be with you, he knew that you were his only solace. And he knew he needed that back more than anything else.

...

(At this point in the story, there are two alternate endings, one where you side with Steve and one where you side with Billy.)

...

Choice one: Billy

You glanced towards Steve with the best apologetic look you could muster. It wasn't his fault that he had ended up in this situation and he had tried his best to defend you. It wasn't fair to him for this fight to continue so you did the best thing you could do to avoid the situation from getting more out of hand. Even if it meant Steve would hate you.

"Okay." You said, agreeing to your now boyfriend again.

"That's what I like to hear." He said, removing his hands from Steve and sauntering towards you, harshly grabbed your arms so he could see how badly you were hurt. He did a once-over before he took off his shirt and wrapped it around the arm that was bleeding heavier than the other one. Then, without a word he snaked his arm around your waist and led you out the front door towards his car that was parked haphazardly out front.

You turned your head slightly to see if Steve would follow you but he didn't. Part of you was thankful that he didn't since it would only lead to another unnecessary fight. The other part of you wished he would.

"Don't look back at him." Billy said, tone firm but less harsh as before. "You're mine."

Everything felt like it was crumbling around you. The night you spent with Steve and the relationship you were thrown back into was enough to get your heart racing even faster than before. You could feel some sort of anxiety attack take over every other emotion of yours as you tried your best to push it down and not to show Billy. His shirt was still wrapped around your cut and you could feel some of the blood start to soak through the fabric, trying to keep your mind on the sensation and not the events of tonight.

Getting into the car, you take your usual place in the passenger seat, eyes downwards. You let everything play through your head over and over until it was just too much and you could feel tears threatening to spill out over your cheeks.

"Hey." You heard your boyfriend say, placing his hand on your thigh when he saw that you were crying. His entire demeanor changed once again and it was starting to play tricks on your mind as you didn't know what side of him was real and what was for show. He was always like this.

"Hm?" Was all you were able to respond with, shoulders slumped.

"I love you. You know that, right? I wouldn't let you end up with some shitty playboy like him." He said, running his hand alongside your face and collecting your tears as he went. He was being so gentle now, you wondered if you had made up the entirety of your date.

"He-He's not like that."

Revving his engine, Billy puts one hand on the wheel and places the other around the back of your seat.

"Sure." Is all he says as he pulls out of the driveway and down the road to his house where he knows he'll be able to watch you. Just as you were about to turn the corner to leave the cul-de-sac, you caught a glimpse of Steve Harrington- former King of Hawkins High -standing outside on his front doorstep with a beer in one hand and an ice pack in the other.

Oh how you wished you could've stayed with him.

...

Choice Two: Steve

"In your fucking dreams, Hargrove." You said confidently, grabbing a knife off the counter and pointing it towards him in a threatening manner. "I'll slit your throat if you touch him again."

Billy grinned and let Steve fall to the floor as the boy clutched his stomach in pain. Walking towards you, he smiled with an antagonizing gaze. "Oh yeah? Is that a promise, girly?"

"Call me that one more time and I'll run you over in that shitty Camaro of yours." Not knowing where this spunk was hidden within you all this time, you held up the blade to your ex boyfriend in a menacing way, looking towards Steve who was still wounded on the floor.

"Damn!" Billy said, leaning against the wall and watching your date on the ground taking his deep breaths to alleviate some of the pain. "You're feisty today."

"You fucking ruined my date. What did you expect? A kiss on the lips and full compliance?"

He glared down at you with such intensity you thought he was going to kill you. You'd only ever seen that look once and that was when he had the fight with his dad in front of you. That day you had seen what Billy truly lived through and that memory alone was what allowed you to keep persevering through your relationship, convincing yourself that anything he did to wrong you was because he didn't know any better. Because he had gone through so much pain. Crawling over to Steve, you lift him up off the ground ever so slightly as you pull him into your lap to assess the damage. He wasn’t in horrible shape, but he definitely couldn’t take another hit to the abdomen and still feel well enough to attend classes the next day.

“(Y/N). Move away from him please. You’re only making things more difficult.” Billy said, leaning down to your level and staring you directly in the eyes. Things were different this time. His usual puppy dog gaze wasn’t enough to get you to fold and bend under his will, giving into whatever he so desired. The times when you would hold his face in between your hands and whisper sweet nothings into his ear even after he had treated you with a disrespect you didn’t think to be possible. The last time you would ever see this side of him again would be tonight.

In a firm but stern voice you glare at him with the same unshakable intensity.

“No.”

And with that, Billy nodded and placed his hands in his jean pockets, getting up and straightening himself out. He looked sad in a way, seeing you on the floor with Harrington whom he’d hated so much until this moment. Billy didn’t lose easily, but he trusted you. If you decided this guy was enough to satisfy you in the ways he never could, he would finally leave you be.

“I loved you, (Y/N).”

You felt frozen in time, not able to say anything else to the man before you. He was just a stranger who held a lot of memories, someone whom you would always share stories with but someone whom you would forget as the days dragged on. You wanted so badly to reach out for his arm and to urge him to stay, to allow him to come waltzing back into your life. But you knew you deserved better. You knew he deserved better.

“Thank you.” You said, as you heard Steve’s door slam shut for the last time that night. Then, you attended to Steve’s wounds as you wondered what would’ve happened had you rekindled the relationship you had with Billy.

And you knew deep down that you made the right choice.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things #steve stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 vol 2

263 notes · View notes

pyxy-styx · 4 months

Note

Have fun ;)

It's mostly minecraft castle plans lol

I'm considering building another chandelier cause they're fun to build, fancier this time. I'm gonna use glass and it's going to be glorious.

In the same room, it is gonna be the throne and tables, I'm gonna try and find a way to make torches (or candles, haven't decided) look cooler so they fit the vibe better. I'm also gonna build the roof the same way I did the bridges on top of that room so that it matches and isn't so blocky (which is funny considering what game this is in).

I'm also planning the roofs for the towers. I'm going for a Rapunzel vibe for those. I'm also gonna add this kinda open bit on them and windows for the guards. Also, a spiral staircase inside all of them, I think that'd be cool.

Then there's the front lawn, I'm thinking a garden on one side, stables on the other with a path lined with plants down the middle. The type of plants is going to depend fully on whatever block pallette the wife chooses, I'm planning out stuff for each option so there isn't any worry about ruining plans.

I haven't quite decided what I want to do on the side walls yet because they are shaped a bit funky, but I do know I want to spice them up a bit. Maybe just adding wood so they're not as flat??

On the same side as the stables, there's gonna be the guards' area, so bunks, weapon storage, all that fun stuff. On the garden's side will be kitchen and storage area.

I'm also slightly considering the idea of maybe building flags on top of the towers, but I haven't decided yet.

The gate is going to have doors in it so it can actually be walked through, as well as little openings in the walls of the middle bit so you can access the guard towers in the front without having to walk all the way to the kitchen or guard area. I'm gonna have the back bit built on the inside of the wall so that it looks a little nicer and, again, makes it look less flat.

There's also a bunch of small details I'm planning, like the decorations that are gonna go under the top bits of the front and back walls and the main room.

I haven't quite figured out what I want to do for the brides yet, I just know I want them to exist.

I'm also considering the idea of a fountain, but I don't think I have room for that.

More progress pictures, tonight was mostly fleshing out ideas and planning where I wanted things. I'm winging most of this

#i put a lot of thought into my builds lol #sometimes i just build them really fast cause i wanna get the ideas out #this world is more for practicing and messing with ideas so we're chilling

6 notes · View notes

gardenhouseflagsusa · 2 years

Text

Buy Decorative Mailbox Covers Online at Affordable Costs

If you are looking to modify the appearance of your mailbox from dull to dazzling and want to decorate your mailbox with beautiful and decorative Mailbox Covers, Garden House Flags is here for you. Mailbox covers are an excellent way to spruce up drab or rusted mailboxes.

Garden House Flags sells colorful mailbox covers and other simple yard décor. Magnetic Mailbox Covers continue to be an important part of outdoor garden décor. We specialize in creating an eye-catching garden, yard, and mailbox accents. From colorful yard flags to decorative Mailbox Covers, we have everything you need! When it comes to adding an artistic design to your property, it all comes down to the details. Our magnetic mailbox covers are an easy, versatile, and one-of-a-kind way to express your personality. And do so for each season and holiday throughout the year.

Mailbox covers are lightweight and easy to store. As a result, our clients can amass magnetic mailbox wrap designs. Customers enjoy changing the appearance of their mailbox whenever they want. Our magnetic mailbox covers, without a doubt, allow each homeowner's sense of style to shine through. Passers-by notice your property's distinct style when they see decorative mailbox covers. Mailbox covers are a simple way to improve a home's curb appeal. This is advantageous for homeowners who plan to sell their homes or who simply want to make minor cosmetic improvements. Decorative mailbox covers make a statement and show the world how stylish you and your family are!

The dedicated team at Garden House Flags assists homeowners in transforming worn, aged, or dented mailboxes into a like-new yard feature complete with artistic designs and style. Our magnetic mailbox covers are perfectly designed to fit a standard 6.5-inch by 19-inch metal mailbox. Every vibrant and decorative vinyl cover features an artist-inspired image. High-dye saturation is used in the production of the covers, which reduces the possibility of color fading over time. Allow our knowledgeable team at Garden House Flags to assist you when you're ready to improve the appearance of your lawn or garden. Call 574-208-2405 today to learn more about our numerous incredible products. Our garden products will enhance any home by adding color and style!

#Decorative Outdoor House Flags #Yard Flags For Sale #Garden And House Flags #Garden Flags For Sale #House Flags And Garden Flags #Double Sided House Flags #Unique House Flags #Clearance Garden Flags #Unique Garden Flags #Cool Garden Flags #Decorative Lawn Flags #Garden Yard Flags

0 notes

all-the-things-2020 · 7 months

Text

No Better Place - Chapter 2

Summary: Cassidy Yates meets her neighbors, courtesy of the crazy horse she just bought. One of them is the enigmatic Javier Pena.

Word Count: 2500+

Cassidy Yates rolled reluctantly out of bed. It had been after two when she’d fallen into bed, but horses want to be fed on time and if she didn’t get up soon, there’d be a chorus of whinnying to face, not to mention a very pissed off cat. She pulled on a pair of jeans and tucked her nightshirt into them, wriggled into a sweatshirt and jammed her long hair in a knot underneath a baseball cap. As she padded barefoot to the kitchen, Linus wound himself between her ankles, nearly tripping her.

“Damned cat,” she muttered. “If you’d walk in a straight line …” The smoky gray cat merely chirped at her and waved his tail. She popped open a can of Friskies, dumped it on a plate and sat it on the kitchen floor in front of him and Linus dug in. “You’re welcome,” Cassidy said as she shoved her feet into the boots that stood by the back door.

Outside, the sun was just peeping over the horizon and the birds were starting to rev up. It was chilly, but that wouldn’t last long and she enjoyed the cool air while she could. As she entered the barn, a chorus of whickers greeted her and she was wrapped in the warm, inviting smell of hay and horses.

“Good morning, kids,” she said as she unlocked the door to the feed room. It didn’t take long to fill three buckets with grain and supplements and lug them to the stalls. She swapped the full buckets with the empty ones from last night’s feed, then pulled the water buckets. She walked outside to dump and scrub them, and that’s when she saw it.

“Son of a bitch!,” she cried. Last night, when she’d finally gotten the trailer backed up and the crazy rescue horse unloaded, the pen had been in one piece. Now a whole section of fence was missing, shattered and piled on the ground. Hoof prints led away from the pen, heading east.

Once the other horses were watered and she’d given them each a flake of hay, she went back to the house for her keys, unhitched the trailer and drove the pickup down the long driveway. There was a ranch to her east, owned by an older Mexican-American man. Pena or something like that.

As she reached the gate of the ranch, she saw a bright bay horse trotting toward the outbuildings, its tail flagged and head held high. “Glad you’re feeling frisky,” she muttered. She laid on the horn, hoping someone would come open the gate quickly.

“You speak English?,” she asked when a young man strolled out from the barn.

“Of course,” he said sharply. “What do you want?”

She gestured toward the horse, which was now circling the corral behind the house. “I think that’s my horse,” she said. “He busted out of his pen last night.”

The young man shook his head. “I’ll get Senor Pena,” he said. “Drive up to the house.” He unlocked the gate and swung it open, closing it again as soon as she’d cleared the fence line.

Cassidy parked in the dirt drive next to a scraggly patch of lawn. There were several other pickups parked nearby, one a nice new Ford tucked under a carport. The rest were older Chevys and Fords, decorated with an assortment of dents and rust spots, much like her own blue beast.

“Can I help you, miss?” An older man came out of the house, his weather lined face the color of old saddle leather. “Chucho Pena,” he said, extending his hand. “Luis said something about a loose horse?”

“Yeah,” Cassidy said, hopping out of the truck. “I just moved into the McLane place a few weeks ago and I brought home a new horse last night. It was late and I put him in a pen but I guess he didn’t like it much. He busted out and I’m pretty sure that’s him messing around by your corral.” She gestured toward the pen where the bay was pacing back and forth along the fence.

Chucho took a long look and nodded. “He’s not one of mine,” he said. “Let me get my son out of bed to help you. That one looks like a handful.”

Cassidy agreed. “He’s a crazy one, but I’m going to cut him as soon as I can get the vet out. I’ll try to catch him myself, but I’d appreciate any help you can offer. It took three of us to get him in the trailer last night at the auction.”

She fetched a halter and lead rope from the bed of the truck and walked slowly toward the corral where the colt was prancing back and forth, tossing his head and snorting to the mares who stood placidly inside. She was sure they were rolling their eyes at the young stud.

“Come on, buddy,” she said softly as she got closer. The colt froze, ears pricked, and stared at her before shying away. He trotted a few steps, stopped, then hopped sideways. “Oh, come on, I’m not gonna hurt you,” she crooned. “I just want to get you home and give you some breakfast.”

They danced for about twenty minutes before the colt suddenly threw his head up and bolted several yards, his muscles quivering. Cassidy turned to see what had spooked him and saw a man. He was about six feet tall, dark haired, with a thick mustache, aviator sunglasses and a sour look on his handsome face. Tight jeans and a loosely tucked in red checked shirt made him look like he belonged on the ranch, but something about him told her he didn’t feel at home here.

“My dad said you needed some help,” he said, nodding toward the colt. “I’m Javi.”

“Cassidy,” she said, trying not to let her eyes linger too long on his body. She told herself that cowboys were not her type, but this man was definitely not a cowboy, despite his father owning a ranch. She turned back toward the horse. “He’s a Thoroughbred. Bought him at an auction last night. Crazy bastard but I think he’ll make a good horse once I work with him a bit.”

Javi nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

Cassidy thought for a moment. “Can you open the gate to the corral without letting the mares out?,” she asked. If she could get the colt in an enclosed area, he’d be easier to catch.

Javi cocked his head. “You want to put him in with our horses?”

“Yeah,” Cassidy said, keeping her eye on the colt. “If we can get him in there, then bring out your mares, I should be able to get him settled down enough to get a halter on him.”

Javi shrugged and opened the corral gate. The two mares watched him calmly. He walked slowly away from the gate and walked around the corral until he was positioned as far from the colt and the gate as possible. He clicked his tongue at the mares, and they pricked their ears before ambling slowly toward him.

Cassidy worked her way around behind the colt, carefully herding him toward the open gate. “Go on,” she said softly. “Go see your girls. Come on, buddy.” The bay snorted and started to move away from the corral, but Cassidy shifted her weight and flicked the lead rope, which pushed the colt toward the other horses.

The moment he was inside the corral, Cassidy swung the gate shut and all three horses began to move around the pen. The mares pinned their ears at the newcomer and soon he was standing, worried, against one side of the corral while the mares followed Javi as he walked slowly toward the gate.

Cassidy heard him speaking quietly to them in Spanish as he approached her. She unlatched the gate, her eyes never leaving the nervous colt, even as she felt the heat of Javi’s body behind her. “You go in and I’ll get the mares out,” he said quietly. Cassidy nodded, trying not to think about the timbre of his voice. Think about the horse, dumbass, she told herself. Letting a man distract her from her horses never worked out.

Once Javi had removed the ranch horses and Cassidy was alone with the colt, it was only a matter of time. She shook the lead rope at him and sent him trotting around and around the corral, hoping to tire him out a little before she attempted to put the halter on.

“Hah, hah, hah,” she chided every time the colt tried to slow down. “You want to run, you’re gonna run, buddy.” Finally, he flicked an ear at her and started to lower his head. She relaxed her stance and let him drop into a walk. Then she stopped turning with him and stood quietly. She heard the bay shuffling back and forth behind her for a minute before hoof beats slowly approached her. When she felt his hot breath blowing on her elbow, she turned slowly around. The colt stood less than a foot away, his ears still pricked but his eyes softer and not panicked.

“There we go,” she crooned. “See, I’m not gonna hurt you.” She held out the halter for him to sniff. When he didn’t shy from it, she slowly slipped it over his head and fastened the buckle. Once it was on, she attached the lead rope.

“Open the gate,” she called to Javi, who was leaning on the rail near the gate. The mares were gone, so he or Luis or Chucho must have taken them into the barn while she was busy. She led the colt through the gate, tightening her grip on the lead rope in case he shied from Javi. The horse did stop for a moment and blew sharply at the man, but he kept walking.

“How are you going to get him home?” Chucho asked as she led the colt away from the corral.

“Shit,” Cassidy said. She hadn’t thought about that. She’d driven the truck over without the trailer attached.

Chucho laughed. “Luis, saddle a horse for her,” he said. “And Javi, you follow her in her truck.” It was clear that Chucho was used to calling the shots on the ranch.

“Nice looking horse,” Chucho said, looking the colt over as they waited for Luis to bring her a saddle horse. “Where’d you get him?”

“Auction,” she said. “He’s a Thoroughbred but wasn’t fast enough for the track so they sold him as a jumper. But he’s a bit of a nut case and he went through about three barns before he ended up at that auction. I outbid the meat buyer for him.” She stroked the colt’s velvety nose. “I know he’s kind of skinny and wild right now, but he’s got that spark. Once I get him gelded and retrained, he’ll make a good riding horse.” She shook her head. “Don’t know why they didn’t cut him right away, but I guess he’s got good bloodlines or something. I don’t pay attention to all that. He could be sired by Secretariat for all I know, but who cares.”

Chucho nodded. “I like Quarter Horses, myself,” he said. “Quieter than Thoroughbreds and smarter. But I don’t care about the pedigree either. Hell, I don’t care where the horse comes from as long as it does its job.” He gestured toward the red roan that Luis was leading toward them. “That cabron came off my friend’s ranch; he bought a mare, was working cattle with her and one morning he comes out and she’s got this ugly thing beside her. No idea who or what the sire was but she was a good cow horse and Rojo took after her.”

Cassidy ran her eyes over the roan. A rough boned gelding, a bit of a ewe neck and a clunky head, not much of a tail. He probably had some Appaloosa in him, maybe mustang. Nothing like the elegant bay colt but he had a kind, intelligent eye. She nodded. “Thanks.”

Chucho held the colt while she swung into Rojo’s saddle. As he handed her the lead rope, the colt danced up to the gelding, sniffing and blowing. “Javi will drive your truck and he can ride Rojo back home,” Chucho said. She glanced over at Javi, who was standing back, looking bored and resigned.

“Keys are in the truck,” she called out to him. “And the gear shift sticks a bit going from reverse to drive, so you have to fiddle with it a bit.”

“Got it,” he said, turning on his heel and heading for the truck. Definitely a man of few words. Cassidy tried not to watch his ass as he walked away, but those jeans were so damned tight, she couldn’t help it. A chuckle brought her attention back to Chucho.

“He’s a ladies man, my son,” he said, “but he’s a mess. I wouldn’t get mixed up with him if I were you.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Just a bit of neighborly advice.”

Cassidy shook her head and settled into the saddle. Picking up the reins, she nudged Rojo with her knees, after making sure the lead rope was dallied loosely around the saddle horn just in case the colt jerked the rope from her hand. She needed to pay attention to the horses, not Javi Pena’s shapely ass.

The ride back to her place was uneventful, except for the colt shying at a jackrabbit and spooking Rojo into a crow hop that fortunately didn’t catch her entirely unaware. For the most part, she followed the side of the road but took a shortcut once she reached a trail she’d ridden a few times already and knew led right to her barn.

Javi was sitting in her truck when she arrived, slumped in the seat looking completely bored. He did hop out to take hold of Rojo’s bridle as she dismounted, though, and waited for her to lead the colt into the barn and tuck him into the stall she’d prepared for him yesterday. Should have just put him away last night, she chided herself, but after being in a tiny pen at the auction and in the trailer for two hours, she’d wanted to give him a bit of a turnout.

“Thanks,” she said when she came out of the barn. Javi was standing beside Rojo, stroking the gelding’s nose. He shrugged.

“Thank my dad,” he said. “I just do what I’m told.” He sighed. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she said.

Javi nodded and swung into the saddle. He took a moment to adjust the stirrup leathers to accommodate his longer legs, then turned Rojo and trotted off without a word. Cassidy watched them for a moment, trying not to notice the way Javi’s hips moved with the horse’s gait. Enough, she told herself. Chucho warned you, and you already have enough on your plate. Reluctantly, she turned away and headed back to the barn. She needed to feed, water and groom the colt before she could go back inside and change into something more appropriate for the heat that was already starting to build up as the sun shone down as only a south Texas sun can.

#pedro pascal #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #horses

7 notes · View notes

matildashoney · 2 years

Text

Delicate Point Of View: Chapter Three

MASTERLIST //ASKS // TAGS //PLAYLIST Word Count: 10.1K CW: swearing, sex ah, the new chapter is finally here! sorry it took so long, but i needed it to be perfect. i can't wait for you all to see what happens, and to understand the chemistry between hera & harry. as always, give me all your feedback and thoughts. i love you.

On Magnolia Street, in the heart of Holmes Chapel, only a five-minute drive from his mother’s house, a two-story house with a yellow front door, sits at the end of a cul-de-sac. Chrysanthemums and daisies decorate the front lawn, a stone pathway leading to the open windows. Numbering on the mailbox states the house number in white, and the tiny flag is set down against the plastic covering. Under the clouds is a shining sun, the rays beating down against their skin as they stand outside and admire the architecture of the home. Harry’s arm brushes against hers as she stares longingly at the home that is a near mirror image of the house that she always imagined herself living in in the future, the house she dreamt of building a future in. Hera is stunned, standing in the driveway of this home that is such an image of what she always wanted with him, the idea that something she wanted with him was no longer so far away, instead it was right there in front of her, waiting for her to walk through the door.

“Come and see the inside of the house,” Harry smiles, his hand touching hers delicately, their fingers nearly intertwining as he inches closer to her. Hera swears electricity currents through her veins when he touches her. “It’s like it was made for you.”

Hera, although trying to brush off the commentary, feels her heart swell against her ribs, knowing that whoever’s house this is has made Harry think of her, even after all this time. Hera, admittedly, spent many nights sharing her dreams and visions of her future house with Harry, the house where she would settle down and fall in love, start a family, and build a life in. Hera wanted it to be close to whatever city felt like home, and Holmes Chapel was the very first place that ever felt like the sort. New York City, Los Angeles, Nashville, London – nothing ever felt like the city that would make her excited to travel home. Hera was only ever excited to travel to those cities to see Harry.

Until Harry brought her home. Until Harry brought Hera home to Holmes Chapel for the very first time, the first visit with his mother, and maybe it was a mixture of the warm welcome from his family and the love from the city that made her feel at ease, but Hera swears, to this day, that she has never felt more “at home” in a city in her entire life. And although years have passed, Hera still clings to the idea of moving here, someday, whether that was with Harry or not, simply to cling to the feeling of home that she found in this quaint city so far from where she lives.

“Hera,” Harry says, pulling her away from her daydream and into reality, her attention travelling to where he is swinging the keys around in his hand, searching (presumably) for the key to the front door. Hera’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, trying to remember a moment where Harry had mentioned buying a house here, and when she comes up empty, she attempts to move away from her thoughts and focus her attention on him, and everything he’s saying to her. “Our first date a few years ago, would you say it went well?”

Harry opens the yellow door and gestures for her to enter the foyer, her eyes immediately moving around the entryway. Hera inspects the area carefully, very carefully. Collections of photographs of different countries line the walls and a mirror hangs just above the table that Harry tosses his keys and wallet onto. “Considering we were together for nearly a year and a half after that date, I would say it did go quite well.” Harry laughs and gently moves away from her (much to her dismay), reaching around her body and helping her shrug off her sweater, her vintage Pink Floyd shirt now on display. Harry smiles brightly, remembering the day he bought the shirt for her, the day he gifted it to her (Harry couldn’t wait to give it to her, showing her as soon as he made it home). Quickly, Harry shakes the grin from his features, taking all of her belongings and setting them beside his own on the table, Hera’s eyes falling to her feet when Harry delicately brushes his arm against hers, again. Coughing awkwardly to regain her attention on him, he gestures towards the end of the hallway, starting to walk to lead the way.

Hera’s heart inches into her throat, thrumming loudly against her skin. Her eyes trail over the walls, the navy blue and forest green accent walls catching her attention. Colors contrast against each other in the best ways, and she knows that whoever Harry hired to decorate knew exactly what they were doing, and exactly how to do it. Harry walks into the kitchen, smiling widely as the sunlight pours through the open windows and the cut glass from the doors leading into the garden. Hera doesn’t quite know what to say, taken aback by the beauty of the home, and Harry graciously leaves her be without many questions.

“Have a look around. I’m going to get everything ready for us to make lunch,” Harry hums, walking around the kitchen island and squeezing her hand encouragingly. Hera’s eyes make their way out to the garden, tears beginning to well in the corners as she takes in the sight of the magnolia tree standing tall in the center of the way, surrounded by a set of stones and flowers. “That’s my favorite part of the house,” he says with a softened smile, nodding towards the doors for her to walk outside. “You should go and see it.”

“In a minute,” Hera whispers, turning away from Harry and wiping under her eyes, sighing, and staring into the living room, eyes narrowing as she spots a photograph that seems too familiar, a photograph that looks like one that was taken of Harry and Hera years ago. “Bathroom?”

Harry is in the refrigerator, pulling out vegetables and pizza dough and sauces, barely taking a moment to look away as he says, “Through the hallway, to the right. Don’t take too long, I need your help cutting vegetables.”

Hera desperately attempts to hide the blushing on her cheeks, pursing her lips together as she walks into the hallway and towards the bathroom. All of this is too much, too many emotions and too many repressed feelings, too many memories rushing back to her as she walks through a house that feels like it was meant for her. Harry is in the kitchen, waiting for Hera to walk in and make a meal with him, to talk about all the things that they should’ve talked about years ago. Hera feels like she can’t breathe as she walks through the hallway, taking the first left she sees, and in that moment, in a split second, it feels as though her entire world has crumbled.

Hera’s eyes immediately haze over with tears, a new wave of heartbreak washing over her as she walks inside this bedroom that so evidently was intended for two, a bedroom that was never lived in, with an empty wardrobe and a near empty vanity. Hera walks towards the bedside table, the side that Harry always sleeps on, and feels the way her heart splinters in her chest, leaving bruises and aching in its wake. On what would have (she assumes) been his bedside table, is a photograph that she remembers clearly. Hera remembers the day clearly, the moment it was taken. Harry had taken Hera to Anne’s for the weekend, a way to get away from everything terrible that was going on with her mother and father. Harry had swept her off her feet, showing her the way home could feel like, and in that moment, she had finally felt something she was searching for, for a very long time. Hera felt at home. Harry is staring at her lovingly, in the photograph, admiring her in the light of day, and Hera was smiling, a real smile, leaning into his chest. Hera remembers that day because it was a day that she finally accepted that she was falling in love with Harry, that there was an opportunity to be in love with him and be loved by him.

Hera takes the photograph in her hands, unable to hide the tears falling helplessly down her cheeks. In a way, Hera misses the woman in the photograph, the woman that was so in love and so excited for her future, for their future. Harry, in every way, was her future, what she thought was her future. Harry was everything she wanted to have and love in her life, and in a singular moment he was gone, out of her life for what she thought was forever. Hera lays the frame where it belongs, walking out of the bedroom without shutting the door, her heart beating heavily in her chest. Hera wants to say something to him, to yell at him for bringing her to this house, for drudging up all of these memories, but a different part of her, a greater part of her, is telling her to rush into the kitchen and into his arms, to take back all of the harsh words and say all of the things she’s been wanting to say for so long. Hera swallows thickly, trying to process every emotion that she’s feeling. Hera walks into the bathroom, wiping her eyes and wetting her cheeks, trying to hide the flush on her skin and the tears that have fallen alongst her face. Knowing what she knows now, every decision she’s made with Harry feels like the wrong one.

“Hera? Cutting these vegetables is taking an awful long time without you!”

Hera grips the sides of the sink, looking at herself in the mirror. Harry is out there, and there are two choices. Hera can tell Harry how she feels about him, about everything. Hera can ignore the way she feels, and she can finish this date without saying anything and go back to Grant and continue her life as it was. Hera has two choices and standing in the bathroom of the house that (again, she assumes) was meant with her in mind, the choice she’s leaning towards is calling her, reaching out to her. And in a moment, Hera is walking out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, looking at Harry as he intricately cuts different vegetables, his attention completely unaware of her returning, saying something she really doesn’t mean. “Fuck you, Harry.”

Harry lays the chopping knife on the cutting board, setting his hands on the counter, his eyes travelling across the room to meet hers. “Hera?”

“Fuck you, Harry. Fuck you for everything.” Hera turns around and hides her face in her hands. Harry is staring at her; she can feel his eyes on her. Gaining the courage to say how she really feels, Hera turns around and raises her voice, “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“Hera. Hera, don’t say that,” Harry says softly, his heart breaking in his chest with her words, wiping his hands on a tea towel and walking around the island, trying to inch closer to her without her shying away from him. “Hear me out.”

“No, Harry! I, I don’t want to hear you out! Fuck. God, just, screw you for this house that I could only dream about having with you. Screw you for writing an album about me, a beautiful album with songs about us and about me and what we went through. Most of all, screw you for leaving me and making me think that you didn’t want me anymore when you so obviously did. Screw you, Harry. I hate you. I hate that I still love you.”

“Hera,” Harry whispers painfully, walking towards her and reaching out for her hand, his shoulders sinking as she shrugs away from him and walks further into the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen island. Hera turns away from him, staring at the magnolia tree, trying to hide the tears slipping down her cheeks. “Hera, look at me. I can answer all of your questions. I can make this right. I can’t lose you, Hera. Not again. Give me a chance, H.”

“Harry, I can’t look at you. I can’t look at you, because every time I look at you, I remember why I love you.”

Harry cautiously walks towards her, laying his hand on her shoulder, his heart breaking as he takes in the tears on her cheeks. “Hera, I want to talk to you. I want to explain myself and tell you everything. I want you, Hera. I don’t want to continue living my life without you.”

“Fine,” Hera whispers, harshly wiping her cheeks and folding her arms in front of her chest, eyes fixated on the magnolia tree outside the window. Harry is standing beside her, his warmth is radiating onto her skin, but she can’t look at him. “Go ahead and explain yourself.”

“Hera, I should have never left you, that night, or ever. I should have never left you,” Harry says first, his hand holding the counter and his other shoved into his pocket, his eyes tracing over her face to read her expressions. Harry was always good at reading Hera’s facial expressions, in every scenario. “I regret it, I regret that more than anything. I love you, Hera. More than anything in this world.” Hera can feel her heart twisting in her chest, the words she’s wanted to hear for so long feeling so foreign between them. “Hearing you talk about our future, all the things you saw us doing, as much as it scared me, I wanted it. I wanted that with you, I just, I didn’t know how to say it back. I made a stupid comment to Mitch, a comment I didn’t mean. I wasn’t sure how to show that to you, that I didn’t mean it, and I didn’t think that either of us were ready to get engaged that young. Mum saw this house on one of her walks around town, texted me about it, and before any of us knew it, the keys were in my hand, but you were already gone.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Hera mumbles, turning her head slightly to see his reaction. Hera wanted him to see how much this hurt her, how much she wanted this life with him, how much she wants this life with him, even now. “Didn’t you think I deserved to know that you wanted a future with me? Did you not think I would run away with you in a heartbeat? Anywhere you wanted to go. I just, I just wanted to be with you, Harry. And I wanted to know that you wanted to be with me, too.”

“Hera, I wanted to tell you, I wanted to talk about everything,” Harry says, reaching forward and wiping the tears from her cheek. Harry is grateful that Hera doesn’t shy away from him, this time. “You know me, H. You know I’m not good with my words. That’s why I wrote the album for you, instead. I wrote these songs for you, to tell you that I was listening to you, to everything you said.” Hera doesn’t say a word, encouraging him to continue. “I hid everything from you, for as long as it made sense, you know, until the album said everything it should. That’s when Isla and Sarah and Mitch told me to tell you.” Harry laughs with his next thought. “Had I known that you would actually show up to the show in London, that I could see you and hug you, again, I would’ve said everything to you much sooner. I would’ve worked up the courage to talk to you months ago, way before the album was coming out. I never thought you’d agree to be alone with me, again. Hell, I never thought you’d speak to me, again.”

“Harry.”

“No, Hera, it’s true. I, I told you years ago that I would never break your trust, that I would never make you feel unloved. I would always love and protect you, and I didn’t do that,” Harry swallows, tears welling in his eyes and overflowing onto his cheeks. “I wanted to give you more, Hera. I wanted to give you everything. I just, I didn’t think I could.”

“I didn’t want everything, Harry,” Hera says, sucking in a breath and using all of her strength to use her voice. “I just wanted you.”

“Hera,” Harry says softly, moving to stand in front of her as she leans back against kitchen counter, tears welling in her eyes, a softness taking over her features as they stare into each other’s eyes, the longing and yearning that has been cultivating over the last two years suddenly coming to the forefront of their minds, of all of their emotions, “would this have been enough? Would this house have made you stay? Knowing that I wanted to live here with you, that I wanted to be with you.” Harry’s hand suddenly comes to caress Hera’s cheek, and in that moment, she realizes that the tears that were clouding her vision have begun to fall along her cheeks. “Tell me, Hera. I need to know. No matter how hard it is to say, no matter if it hurts me.”

Hera nods silently, sucking in a breath as a cry shakes through her body. Her eyes squeeze shut, refusing to look at Harry as he leans in closer and lays his mouth against her forehead, kissing her sweetly. “Anything would have been enough, Harry. I didn’t want you to walk out the door. As much as I tried to pretend, I could never get over that, that you walked out on me, on us. I should’ve never asked you to go, but you shouldn’t have left.” Hera sighs through any fears and grabs the hem of Harry’s shirt, clutching him closer to her body. “I don’t hate you. I never hated you. I’m sorry for saying that. I just, I just don’t know how I am supposed to love you when you hurt me.”

“I regret leaving you, Hera. I need you to know that every minute of every day since I walked out the door, I have regretted leaving you,” Harry says softly, his eyes filling with tears, the vulnerability of the moment tangible to anyone that walked inside. “That was, singlehandedly, the worst decision of my life, and I have spent every day paying for it.”

Hera sighs and lifts her head from her chest, her glossy eyes meeting his as Harry runs his thumbs along her cheeks, “I have been so lost, Harry. I have been pretending that I’ve been okay, that I don’t miss my friends, my family, for so long. I have been pretending that I’m happy with how things are, but I’m not. I miss you; I miss the people that were in my life because of you.” Harry nods understandingly. He understands exactly how Hera feels. Granted, his friends haven’t gone away because they were apart, but he has felt like a limb is missing every day that they’ve been apart, that his heart has been outside of his body. He couldn’t tell anyone either, especially not the one person they shared. Harry runs his thumb along her cheek, encouraging her to continue. He wants to hear all that she has to say. He wants to get it all out in the open, all their feelings. He wants to start over. “Harry, I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to pretend like I’m not missing a part of me when you’re not around. Everyone wants me to choose myself, to do what makes me happy. And I want to. I want to do what makes me happy.”

Harry can feel his heart beating against the artery in his throat, the pounding vibrating through his skin. All of the tension around them is making the air thick and hard to breathe, and Harry is beginning to think that the only way he could breathe again is if he’s kissing her, if they’re touching each other’s skin. Hera’s next words can change their lives for the better, or they could very well change them for the worst. “And what makes you happy, Hera?”

“You, Harry. You make me happy.” Harry swears to himself that in that moment, in the heart of the house that he designed for them to share, in the kitchen where he envisioned making her breakfast and dancing around the island, he can see their future crystal clear. Harry can see the days ahead, the waking up early to watch her sleep against his chest, the shared space in the closet, the inviting his mother over for dinner. Harry can see their life ahead of him, the life he ignored years ago. Harry can see what Hera always wanted, the future of a family that is built on love. Hera sucks in a breath and tries to steady her shaky breathing, willing herself to tell the truth that is bubbling inside her. “And I want you. I want to be happy with you, Harry. I know that, now. I, you are the only one that would ever do something like this for me. And you are the only one I would want to. That’s how I know. I don’t need more time to think about it. I need more time with you.”

Harry gently lifts her face away from her body and encourages her eyes to meet his. Green eyes memorize the glossiness covering the dark brown that stares back, the quivering of her mouth, the furrow between her brows. He wants to remember this, the way this feels, the words being shared. He never wants to forget what this feels like, the feeling of knowing that the love of his life wants him as much as he wants her. Harry doesn’t ever want to forget this, forget the feeling of finally having her within arm’s reach, especially after thinking she was so far away.

“Oh, my baby,” Harry says softly, gently rubbing her cheeks and laying his mouth between her eyebrows, soothing the crease settled between them. “Hera, will you look at me?” Hera’s eyes meet his, leaving their original position centered on his abdomen. Harry’s thumb delicately traces over the fullness of her bottom lip, his nose nudging hers ever so slightly, a hot breath fanning over her mouth as their chests begin to rise and fall a bit more dramatically with every passing second. “Any minute of the day, I am yours. You never even have to ask. I don’t want to waste another minute without you.”

“We lost so much time,” Hera whispers, the tears welling in her eyes spilling over much too easily, falling into Harry’s hands as he holds her cheeks. “We wasted so much time, Harry.” Harry nods his head, delicately kissing her nose, under her eyes, her cheeks, peppered kisses dancing along her skin. He knows. He regrets every minute he spent away from her. He is sure that he’ll spend the rest of his life making up for lost time with her, trying to take back what he missed in their time apart. “I want you; I want every second with you. I don’t want to waste any more time pretending that we should wait.”

Harry’s eyes shut as he kisses the corner of her mouth, their breathing erratic and hot against each other’s skin. He can feel the warmth of her mouth, it’s calling him, yelling for his name. He opens his eyes to look, only for a moment, to memorize the way her lips look in the daylight, in the light of the window in the kitchen built for them. Harry leans in, smiling as Hera tightens her grip around the hem of his shirt and leans onto her toes, meeting his mouth halfway. Harry kisses Hera, slowly and lightly at first, simply taking a second to remember how it feels to kiss her, the way her lips slot perfectly between his. Hera deepens the kiss, pressing her chest against his, sliding her hands around his waist and holding him to her. Harry’s tongue glides against her bottom lip, and she sighs in content, the taste of him so familiar and welcome. His teeth bare against her mouth, biting her lip ever so slightly, wanting to illicit the sweet moans he’s missed hearing, the ones he’s dreamt about and heard when he’s alone at night. Hera complies easily, moaning into his mouth, drawing him impossibly closer, her fingers dancing along his skin beneath his shirt. Harry revels in the feeling, the way her fingertips are so delicate on his skin, but he needs more, wants more.

“I need to be close to you, H,” Harry whispers, his fingers curling around her hair and bringing her impossibly closer to his warmth. “I, I want to love you. I want to feel you, my heart.”

Hera’s eyes roll back with the name, a name he called her few times by accident in their year of dating in the past, a name that always made her want to come undone in his touch. He’s said it now, though, and Hera knows it wasn’t an accident. He means it. Hera thought, to be called “my heart” must mean something more than “my love” or “my baby”, it would suddenly mean, that she is in fact, the reason his heart is beating, his will to be, a feeling she had experienced with him and had yet to say. Hera nods hurriedly, the heat between her thighs and burning in her stomach yearning to feel close to him, to feel him in every inch of her skin. Her inhibitions about the date are long gone, far off with their conversation about what happened between them and the way they’ve missed each other’s presence. All Hera wants is to feel Harry.

“Our room is that way,” Harry breathes against her mouth, and the word ‘our’ makes her heart twist in circles, jumping at her throat. Hera wants Harry to take it out of her chest, to see the way it’s beating to the sound of his name on her lips. Her heart is in his hands, it always has been. “I want to do this right, Hera. I want to remember this for the rest of my life.”

“Take me there, Harry,” Hera murmurs, pulling away ever so slightly, smiling up at him as he drags his thumb along her plump bottom lip, coated in spit and plump from the pulling of his teeth. “I would go anywhere with you.”

Harry steals a kiss from Hera’s mouth once more before grabbing her hand and walking through the hallway, leading the way to the bedroom that was always meant to be shared between them. Hera’s eyes trail over Harry’s back, over his arms and the way the veins in his skin are straining as he holds her hand tightly behind him. More than anything, Hera wants to kiss the softest spot at the back of his neck, the spot she remembers would make him mewl at the contact. Harry can feel his heart fluttering in his chest, the anticipation and excitement building in his stomach as they walk past the photographs of the city and family and the things that Hera always spoke about wanting around her future house. Looking at it from afar, this house is theirs, in every way possible, and knowing now, that one day Harry would be walking Hera through it, ready to make love to her for the first time in a bedroom designed for them, he would go through all that they have just to have this moment.

Harry smiles slightly to himself when he notices the bedroom perched slightly closed, only enough to see that someone walked out of it in a hurry. Harry, still clutching Hera’s hand, turns around, scanning over her face for any signs of regret or hesitation. Hera’s cheeks are flushed, her mouth slightly open to breathe and her eyes wide as she stares at him expectantly. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret tomorrow.”

“I would never regret you, Harry.”

Harry nearly moans at Hera’s words, thinking about all that it means for them to be together intimately again. Connecting their lips together, Harry sighs against her, feeling the way her mouth moves so effortlessly on his, perfectly aligned and made for him. Hera’s arms wrap around his shoulders, a whine leaving her throat as his hands slowly glide down her body and reach beneath her thighs, delicately gripping her skin and lifting her onto his waist, carrying her into the bedroom connected to the hallway. Closing the door behind them, Harry sets Hera on the vanity counter, their mouths never leaving each other. Hera’s lips are swollen from Harry’s mouth when he pulls away, and the sight of it alone is enough to make him burst at the seams, to feel like his heart is going to overwhelm him and break his ribs in half. His thumb rubs along her bottom lip, taking in the sight. “Have no idea how much I’ve missed kissing your mouth, Hera.”

Hera’s eyes travel from his face to his chest to his waist, her hands dangerously nudging into the waistband of his jeans, slowly unbuttoning, and pulling down the zipper, nodding towards the tent growing between his thighs, “Maybe I have an idea.” Hera runs her hands beneath his shirt, laying her head on his chest and staring at him with what he swears is stars in her eyes, and it feels as though everything is right in the world, all of their issues and mistakes are in the past.

Harry nudges his nose against hers, kissing her lightly, soaking in the feeling of her warm hands on his skin. His throat itches with the words that are climbing out of it, the comfortability of the conversation making his skin tingle. “Hold on, just one second, my love,” Harry mutters, grabbing Hera’s cheeks and rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones. “How do we, you know, how do we want to do this? I, I really don’t want to talk about this, believe me, but I feel like we should, considering, you know.”

Hera knows exactly what Harry’s saying, nodding her head and wrapping her arms tighter around Harry’s waist, looking at him softly as she says, “’Cause we’ve been with other people since being with each other.”

“That, yeah.” Harry brushes a stray strand of hair away from Hera’s forehead, his hand travelling between her face and her thigh hitched around his waist. “I, uh, I want to be responsible with you. I don’t want to regret doing anything, or not doing anything. I, I need you to know that, yeah, I was with other people, but no one, absolutely no one compared to you, my heart.” His fingertips dance along her jaw, thumbing over her mouth. He’s imagined this day over and over again, the moment where he would get to feel her body against his once more, that he would get to kiss her, to tell her he loves her. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming against his skin, because the day is finally here. “I, I always use protection. I’m clean, and everything.” Hera purses her lips. “I hate that we’re having this conversation. This shouldn’t have ever happened.”

Hera’s face softens, cupping his face and bringing his mouth to hers. Harry smiles into the kiss, his hands holding her thighs tighter to his body. “I know, Harry, I know,” she whispers, willing him to look at her, to reconnect their eyes, “I wish it hadn’t happened, but it did. I, I want to be with you, Harry. And I need you to know that I’ve never, well, I’ve never gone bare with anyone but you. You have nothing to worry about with me. Grant and I aren’t together anymore.” Hera and Harry’s eyes meet for a moment, and the willingness behind Harry’s eyes tell Hera exactly what she wants to know. “I want this to last forever, Harry. I want it to be you and me.”

Harry looks at Hera in a way that she’s never seen before, a way that makes her feel like everything will be okay. “Hera, you and me, my heart, my soul, we are forever.” Harry connects their mouths, groaning at the way her hands instantly find their way to his skin, clutching to him. Her legs tighten around his waist, his hands moving from her face to her waist to tug at the hem of her shirt. “Can I?” Hera nods quickly, lifting her arms and watching as the shirt travels to the carpet without a second thought. Harry’s hands glide along her skin, ghosting over her chest and nudging the straps of the black lace bralette from her skin. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that I’m the only one you’ve been like this with, I’m the only one that’s felt you. I have missed you, so badly.” Harry kisses along her jaw and neck, his hands lifting her from the vanity and carrying her to the bed, smiling brightly when Hera laughs at the way she bounces against the mattress. Harry tugs at the hem of his shirt, yanking it off and letting it float to the ground with her own. His body lays against her, the warmth of their skin touching each other, the only thing hiding what they really want is the clothes beneath their waists.

“Harry,” Hera whines, her eyes squeezing shut as she savors the feeling of his mouth moving wetly against her skin, pressing kisses along her neck, her collarbone, her stomach. “Harry, please, baby.”

“Fuck,” Harry groans against her skin, hearing Hera say ‘baby’ for the first time in years making his entire body light on fire. His fingertips work swiftly with her jeans, sliding the material down her thighs, kissing the delicate skin lightly. “God, Hera, you smell so good. Need you, my heart.”

Hera’s chest heaves as Harry’s fingers work along her skin, gently pulling down her underwear and kissing her sweet skin slower and slower, inching his way to where she wants him most. He softly kisses her heat, barely touching her, making her body thrust from the center of the mattress and cause his hands to hold her steady. “Harry, Harry, I just, I want you.”

Harry nods against her, his tongue lying flat against her warmth and licking her arousal into his mouth, moaning heavenly at the taste. More than anything, Harry has missed the intimacy of these moments, of the vulnerability of tasting her and being the reason for her pleasure. He gently opens her thighs, his fingers tracing the outside of her heat. “You’re so pretty, Hera. God, you’re beautiful. All of you.”

“Harry.”

“My baby, my honey,” Harry hums against her skin, smiling as Hera reaches for his hands and tugs him upwards. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m coming to you, I swear,” he whispers, kissing the inside of her thighs and moving his way upwards, his fingers working quickly to shove the rest of his clothing off his body and lay above her. “Going to tell me if you want me to stop, right? Going to tell me how you’re feeling?”

“Always do,” Hera smiles, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and clutching him tightly against her skin, their naked bodies warm beneath the duvet and clinging to each other. “I’ve missed you. God, I’ve missed you, Harry.” Harry wraps his hand around his cock, pumping his shaft between his thighs and groaning as his thumb brushes against his tip, smoothing the arousal over himself. His heart is pounding in his chest, thinking about the way all that he’s envisioned over the last two years is about to become real – it’s no longer a dream, an imagination. Hera is really here, laying beneath him, ready to feel him so intimately and passionately. Hera grabs his cheeks, making him look at her. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, Hera,” Harry whispers, sputtering out a moan as his cock easily slides into her warmth, the resistance of her walls around him slowly lightening as he inches further and further into her, her thighs relaxing around his waist, the feeling of him so deeply inside of her so familiar and warm. Hera adjusts to him nearly instantly, the feeling of his hands clutching her waist and his mouth connecting to hers to share his love and affection for her. Harry thrusts against her, creating a steady rhythm, feeling the way her body reacts to him, the way her moans and whimpers are echoing around the bedroom that was made for them. Harry kisses Hera, deeply, connecting their moans and their tongues and the love that they have for each other. “God, I love you so much.”

Hera turns her head slightly, willing the tears to go away, willing the emotions to quit overwhelming her and to solely focus on how she’s feeling with Harry in this very moment, to feel the love and the affection and the wanting that they share for each other. Harry kisses her cheek, her jaw, her neck, before realizing the tears on her skin. He gently turns her head, making their eyes connect. Hera can read his face, the questions that he has, the way his body stills and the thrusting ceases for a moment. Hera tightens her legs around his waist, willing him to continue, shaking her head and bringing their mouths together in a sweet kiss. “I just, I’ve missed you. More than I think I realized. I need you in my life, Harry. I love you.”

“Hera, you have me, baby.” Harry gently moves his thumb along her nose and mouth, kissing her sweetly, before moving his hand between their connected thighs, drawing circles on the bundle of nerves drawing her closer to her orgasm. His thrusts are hitting the perfect spot inside of her, her moans drawing him closer and closer to his high. “Are you close, my heart? God, I’m close. You feel so good, Hera.” Hera nods hurriedly, her mouth parted as her head tilts back, the sensations of his fingers and his cock nearly too much to bear all at once. Hera hasn’t felt this good in so long, she doesn’t quite remember the last time she’s felt so content and vulnerable being so intimate with someone. Maybe the last time was with Harry. “Come on, my love. Cum for me. Fuck, I love you.”

Hera’s body tightens with her orgasm, her warmth clenching around him, squeezing him inside of her and clutching his body tightly against her chest, her face tucking into his neck to mute the moans and whimpers spewing out of her. Harry grunts, spilling his orgasm inside of her, his body stilling above her and delicately laying on top of her, embracing her body closely in his arms. Hera’s fingers brush through his sweat dampened hair, smiling lazily as he tucks his head beneath her chin, listening to the sound of her breathing. “Always made yourself comfortable, right here,” she laughs, kissing his forehead lightly. “Thank you.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion, lifting his head up ever so slightly to read her expression, “For what, my heart?”

“Everything.” Hera smiles, leaning down ever so slightly to kiss him, again. Hera can’t get enough of his mouth on hers. Harry grins, kissing her sweetly before gently pulling out of her and sitting back on his heels, leaning down to kiss her thigh before clambering out of the bed. Hera immediately sits upright, clutching the duvet to her chest to cover her modesty. Harry walks to the door, and her heart immediately twists, “Can you stay?”

Harry instantly feels guilty, turning around and walking towards the bed the lay a kiss on her forehead. “Only grabbing towels for us to shower, my baby. I’m not going anywhere, I swear.” Hera nods and fiddles with her hands on her thighs, trying not to look at the door as he walks into the hallway. Her mind feels hazy and unable to really process anything that’s going through her head, her emotions changing every minute. All that Hera can really think about is how Harry is there, they made love, he loves her, and they’re starting something, something they thought was way out of reach, and it’s making feel slightly insane. How has this happened so quickly? How did they go so long without each other? Hera would’ve never shut everyone out if she knew this was waiting on the other end of it. “Hera?” Hera’s head lifts from her chest, meeting his eyes across the room. Harry has three towels tucked under his arm, his hand outstretched for her to take. “You okay, my heart? Look lost in thought over there. Are you alright?”

“I’m okay, Harry,” Hera reassures him, slipping out of the duvet and onto the carpet, taking his hand and nodding for him to continue. Harry pauses for a moment, leaning down to kiss her sweetly, smiling against her mouth as she hums in content. “Can we stay here forever? I want to live in this fantasy with you, without anyone else getting in the way.” Hera leans her head against his naked back, her eyes fluttering shut as his muscles contract and tighten with his movements. Her lips touch his shoulder, a shudder waving through his body with the touch.

“Trust me, Hera,” Harry says firmly, turning away from where the water has sputtered on in the shower and towards her, taking her chin between his fingers and saying to her sternly, “Now that I have you, no one is getting in the way of that. It’s you and me, H. That’s it.”

Harry cracks open the shower door, gesturing for Hera to walk inside first. Her body instantly relaxes beneath the warm water, her muscles soothing in the heat. Harry steps in behind her, his hands delicately massaging over her shoulders and hips, his lips touching over her skin as she leans against his chest. Hera sighs, nearly moaning at the feeling. Harry is so different from anyone else, she thinks, in every way possible. He understands her, understands her in ways that she isn’t sure anyone else in the world ever will. He loves her, and she is certain he loves her more than anyone has ever loved another person, herself included. Hera wonders how she ever convinced herself to move on, when this is what was waiting for her across the world. Honestly, as kind as it was, things were never like this with Grant, never so vulnerable and quiet. And Hera hadn’t realized how much she missed that until now, until the love of her life is standing in front of her, caressing her skin, whispering his love for her. Harry delicately washes her hair, the water running over her head and face as she leans back, a giggle slipping through her lips as he leans down to kiss her nose. Intimacy, Harry thinks, could not get more special than this, than showering with your lover, adoring every part of them, soaking in the way the warm water hugs them tightly.

Hera turns around, turning the knob slightly to make the water warmer, her eyes widening when Harry’s finger traces over the ink on her spine. Hera turns around shyly, her chin tucked against her chest. Harry’s thumb and forefinger hold her face, encouraging her to look at him. “Don’t be shy. I want to see it.” Hera nods, sighing as the water rushes over her face and his fingertips run along her spine soothingly. “It’s beautiful, Hera. Kind of wish I went with you to get it, especially since it’s something so personal to us.” Hera can hear Harry swallow before his next statement. “I always thought I’d be the one to hold your hand while you got a tattoo.”

“Grant was there, actually. He, uh, he did his best to comfort me. He wasn’t you, though.” Hera can feel the way Harry’s attitude changes, the way the energy in the shower has completely transformed in seconds. Hera turns around, stepping closer to Harry and laying her hands on his chest, taking his attention. “Harry, it’s your turn to listen to me, okay?”

“I’m listening,” Harry murmurs, his hands gently lifting to hold her cheeks, his thumbs tracing over her cheekbones softly. “I’m listening very carefully.”

“Grant came with me that day because I didn’t know who else to ask. Last thing I had heard, you were in Los Angeles with Jeff, so I couldn’t really call you to come with me.”

“I would’ve found a flight back. I would’ve been there to hold your hand, Hera.”

“And that’s why I didn’t call you,” Hera says, a smile pulling lightly at the corners of her mouth. “I know you would have.” Her fingertips trace over the tattoos inked across his chest, his breathing steady with the feeling of the warmth of her skin touching his. “I wanted something that reminded me to be resilient, strong, to stand my ground, especially after making the decision not to speak to my parents anymore. After that, I really didn’t have anyone around me, beyond Isla. I didn’t have you; I didn’t have our friends. I felt like I was losing my footing in the world, and I wanted something to remind me of what I could be.” Harry can feel his heart soften with every word, the jealousy slowly fading into the abyss. “I went, Grant came with me, and everyone asked a thousand and one questions about what it meant. I didn’t answer a single question they asked, though. Clearly, the right person would understand what it means to me.”

Harry grins, his hands travelling from her body to hold her hands on his chest, lifting her fingertips to his mouth to kiss. “Grant is going to hate me, isn’t he? Not that I mind all that much.”

“He kind of already does.”

“Quite the reassuring gesture, Hera.”

“Honesty is the best policy, Harry.” Harry nudges his nose against Hera’s, smiling against her mouth as she tilts ever so slightly to capture his lips in a kiss. “Grant and I are over. After I saw you at Isla’s party and we talked and you mentioned the date being today, I just, I knew I couldn’t go into this with you without an open mind, without a clear head. I didn’t want anything to get in the way of us figuring things out.” Harry doesn’t hide the grin that spreads across his features. “Don’t get that goofy smile on your face like you think I was planning this all along. I did not think I would have sex with you today. I definitely didn’t think we would be in the shower together, either.”

“Maybe not the sex, maybe not the shower,” Harry hums happily, his mouth beginning to press gentle kisses along her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, anywhere he could reach. “Definitely thought we would kiss, though, and you didn’t want anything to make you feel bad about it. That’s why you broke up with Grant. ‘Cause you wanted to kiss me.”

“Quit thinking so highly of yourself.”

“Not thinking highly of myself, if it’s true.”

Hera giggles, the laughter echoing around the shower as she leans backwards in Harry’s embrace of her body to his, her arms tangled around his midsection and clutching him tightly. Her heart swells against the confines of her ribs, and for a moment, she feels blissfully happy, completely content with her surroundings and everything that is happening around her. Hera hasn’t felt that way in years, especially since he left.

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell me you stopped talking to your parents,” Harry says quietly, pulling Hera away from her daydream.

“Didn’t want to worry you or anything. Isla knew. I just, I wanted to do what you said, you know? I wanted to be happy on my own, without their input or judgement. I wanted to know what it was like to live my life for me.” Hera hesitates to say the next statement. “I just, I didn’t ever realize that would mean I would live my life without you.”

Harry looks at Hera, swallowing the tears welling in his throat and saying, “That’s not something you’ll ever have to worry about again, Hera.”

Hera kisses Harry sweetly, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. Harry smiles against her, peppering kisses along her face, whispering his affections to her over and over again, Hera is tightening her arms around his middle, saying, “I’m beginning to shrivel up, Harry. I think we should get out.”

Harry laughs, nodding his head and turning the water off behind her, standing in silence for a minute or two before reaching for the towels and wrapping her tightly. “My clothes are in the right side of the dresser. Grab whatever you want, I’m going to grab us water and a snack from downstairs.” Hera nods, tightening the towel around her torso, walking into the bedroom with him as a towel hangs loosely on his hips.

“Harry?”

Harry immediately turns around, stopping before getting to the bedroom door. His heart instantly softens, admiring the way the sunlight shines over her and her voice is light and airy throughout the room. He imagined this day so many times, in so many ways. He pictured what it would be like to have her in this bedroom, in the house made for them a million times, but nothing could ever be as wonderful as it becomes real. “Yes, my heart? Need something?”

“Two things.”

“Anything you want, Hera.”

“First,” Hera hums, reaching into a drawer and grabbing a clean pair of briefs, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he admires her pulling the cotton up her thighs, “a kiss.” Harry nods without a second thought and walks forward, grabbing her cheeks and kissing her deeply, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs. “Mhm, and secondly, I’m tired, now. Can we rest for a bit before we go and finish our date?”

Harry smirks proudly, laughing quietly to himself as Hera reaches for one of the vintage shirts in the drawer and narrows her eyebrows at him. “Of course, my heart. Get in bed, I’ll be right back.” Hera tugs the shirt over her torso, the hem hanging loosely at her thighs. Harry swears he’s never seen anyone look more beautiful. “I love you, Hera.”

Hera looks at Harry, a gentleness washing over her features as she walks around the room and pulls back the duvet on what should have been her side of the bed – the side furthest from the door, the side where he could protect her from anything bad in the world – and lays against the pillows, humming contently in the warmth of the blankets. Harry doesn’t move, waiting for her to say the words back to him. Hera smiles lazily, looking at him through hooded eyes, “I love you, too.”

Harry nearly slips rushing into the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water under his arm before walking around the kitchen island and making sure that everything was turned off, their intended meal now growing cold. Harry steps towards the glass doors that lead into the garden, staring at the magnolia tree that grows in the center of the space. Memories rush back to him – the memory of them walking through the Hampstead Heath Park, talking about how lovely the trees are, how resilient; the memory of planting the tree with his mother years ago, the conversations of how he would propose beneath it, of how much it meant to their relationship; the memory of standing beneath it when they split, the way it took everything in him not to cut it down; most importantly, the memory of her realizing that this entire home was for her, for them, that he always intended on being with her, despite the ignorant things he’s said. Harry sucks in a breath, turning around and noticing his phone vibrating on the counter, Isla’s name popping on the screen.

Harry slides his thumb along the bottom, holding the phone to his ear cautiously, knowing that whatever comes out of her mouth is going to be said in a hurry and without a filter. His eyes peer around the corner of the kitchen wall, ensuring that Hera is nowhere to be seen. Harry opens the garden door, stepping outside and soaking in the weather. His eyes fall to the center of the garden, the magnolia tree growing tall and strong in the middle of the grass. He admittedly didn’t watch it grow, it wasn’t really something he could handle, especially considering he couldn’t step foot inside the house without thinking of her and what should’ve been, what could’ve been. His heart twists in his chest, replaying her reaction to when she realized the house was for her, the way she rushed forward and kissed him. Harry runs his thumb along his lips, memorizing the way it feels to have her kisses on his skin again.

“Harry?”

“Yes, Isla,” Harry answers smoothly, collecting his thoughts and trying to regain control of his emotions, his mind is everywhere and anywhere, particularly it is in the bedroom where the love of his life is waiting for him to return.

“Hera isn’t answering my calls,” Isla says accusatorily, and Harry swears that if he was looking at her, he would see her eyebrows furrowing together and her lips pursed in a tight line. Isla, Harry’s noticed, always makes a similar expression when she thinks something is happening. Isla made the same face when Hera and Harry were flirting on Halloween in 2018. Isla made the same face when Harry told her he would call Hera about the album. Harry can only imagine Isla is making the same face, now. “Is Hera okay? Obviously, I didn’t want to be annoying when you two were driving up to Manchester, but I haven’t heard from her since before you got her, this morning. Are you on your way back to London? Have you two talked about everything, properly this time? Are you two getting back together? God, please tell me you’re getting back together.”

“Cool it, Isla. Can only answer one question at a time,” Harry laughs, shaking his head and leaning his cheek into his palm, his elbow perched on his thigh. “First of all, Hera is perfectly fine, I can assure you that.” Harry smirks to himself, turning over his shoulder to ensure that she wasn’t nearby. “Hera’s sleeping in our bed, safe and sound.”

“Our bed? Harry, what the fuck?”

“Nothing! Hera and I talked about everything. Made lunch together. All the date things, you know.” Harry can feel his cheeks heating with the conversation. He doesn’t want to say anything too revealing, especially considering they haven’t even talked about what they’re going to tell their friends. “Hera is fine, okay? That’s all you need to know. I will drive her back, later.”

“Later? Harry, what the hell have you been doing all day?” Isla gasps suddenly, and Harry can only imagine the face she’s making. “Harry, did you and Hera have sex?”

“I am not at liberty to share such information with you at this time, my dear friend. Not that I would tell you, either way.”

“Oh fuck,” Isla squeaks, a giggle echoing through the speaker. Harry smiles, the excitement rushing through his body unable to be hidden by a smirk and blushing cheeks. “You did. You and Hera are getting back together. And to think, this could’ve happened so much sooner if you had just shown her the house! Like I said.” Isla waits a minute and then says, “Not that I’m saying I told you so, but I told you so.”

“Yes, yes, I know you told me so.” Harry’s head turns to the sound of the door creaking open, his mouth pulling into a grin as his love sticks her head out ever so slightly, a smile pinching the corners of her lips. Hera steps onto the wooden platform, crouching down to wrap her arms around Harry’s shoulders, lazily kissing his cheek and whispering in his open ear, Come inside with me. I miss you. “I’ll be inside in a minute, my love. Give me a second to end the call. Okay?” Hera nods her head, laying her cheek on his shoulder. “Love you.” Hera grins, whispering, Love you, against his cheek.

“My love? Love you? Harry, are you kidding me?”

“Have to go, Isla,” Harry says hurriedly, pulling the phone away from his ear and turning his head ever so slightly, capturing Hera’s mouth in a kiss. “I’ll talk to you later.” Harry hangs up the phone before Isla can say another word, a smirk inching its way onto his features as Hera giggles against his skin. His hand squeezes her connected hands around his shoulders, embracing the feeling of her wrapped around him. “Thought you were asleep, by now, my heart.”

“And I thought you were grabbing waters and coming back to bed,” Hera giggles, standing upright and lending out her hand for Harry to take. Her eyes travel along his naked body, soaking in the sight, his towel still hanging low on his waist. Harry takes her chin between his fingertips and lifts her face, their mouths meeting instantly, as though pulled together by gravity. “Isla called you?”

“Naturally,” Harry laughs, pecking her mouth with a light kiss once more before nodding towards the house, gesturing inside, and setting his things on the counter. Hera leans against the counter, her eyes never leaving his, smiling as he walks closer and closer to her, his hands finding a home on her waist. “Isla was worried about you. All taken care of now, though.”

“Typical Isla.” Hera takes one of the water bottles and brings it to her lips, the liquid soothing the warmth in her throat. Honey eyes meet Harry’s, and she feels warm under his gaze, full of love and affection. “You and I have a lot to talk about before we go back to London. I think we should sort out what we’re doing, you know? Especially before Isla’s wedding. Maid of Honor and Best Man showing up together after not being together for two years will definitely draw some eyes, and judgement.”

“I know, I know.” Harry runs his hands over his face and walks forward, lifting Hera onto the counter with a smirk and settling between her thighs, his hands running over her skin as she squeaks in surprise. “Is it wrong to want to live in this fantasy for a while? Only you and me. I’ve just gotten you back.” He sighs and leans his chin against her chest, staring at her adoringly. Hera can feel how much he loves her. “I love you, Hera, I love you so much. And I want you to know that I’ll never make the same mistakes again. It’s me and you, my heart, that’s it. Always.” Harry swallows thickly, the anxiety and nervousness behind the words he wants to say itching at his throat. Hera can tell, running her thumb along his cheek to encourage him to speak. “I want to be with you, Hera.”

“Hm,” Hera hums as though lost in thought, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and hugging him tightly to her chest, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. His fingers inch further along her skin, pressing tightly to hold her nearby. “And here I thought that us making love and saying our love for each other and kissing and all that we’ve done today, in a house that was meant to be ours, was just for fun. No strings attached. Honestly, I had no idea that that meant we weren’t going to be together. Silly me. I’ll never make that mistake, again!”

“Quit teasing me, Hera,” Harry says warningly, squeezing her thighs and capturing her mouth in a kiss, the way her thighs tighten around his waist making him smile against her skin. Hera teases him, sure, but the way she’s kissing him and holding him tells him everything he wants to know. “You and me, my heart? Always?”

“You and me, Harry. Always.”

#harry #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #delicate point of view #1d harry #1d harry styles #harry x y/n #harry fic #harry fanfic

71 notes · View notes