#There's nothing wrong with wanting to save a little money so you can afford more food or have some cash in savings or whatever
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People buying massive quantities of clothes from thrift shops, especially plus-sized clothes to "cut down to fit them" or warm jackets come wintertime, solely to resell for a higher price or just wear once in a YouTube haul video, who also never donate to thrift stores, therefore driving the price up so poor people can't afford clothes anymore: Bad! Cut it out!
Telling people that Only poor people should ever shop at thrift shops, despite the fact that thrift shop workers are constantly saying they have a surplus of clothes that are thrown away and BEGGING people to buy from them, and clothes from thrift shops are the most environmentally friendly way to go, but ignoring all that and in the process making poor people feel like they're "not poor enough" to shop at a thrift store because no one ever feels Poor Enough: Also bad!!! Cut it out!
#Im going to bite someone I swear to God#If you seriously think some middle class person who occasionally gets some jeans from a thrift store so they can afford to like#go on a weekend vacation instead of buying new clothes from Target#is the problem#I literally want to kick your ass so bad#You guys hate frugality so much it's insane to me#There's nothing wrong with wanting to save a little money so you can afford more food or have some cash in savings or whatever#You don't have to be The Poorest Person Ever to Deserve to shop at a thrift store#IDC if some multi millionaire goes to a fucking thrift store on occasion as long as they donate their old clothes. Give back u know#And don't take the high demand items#Like warm coats in a cold climate right before winter. Or good tennis shoes#Like my god use some common fucking sense#There's nothing wrong with supporting a small local business that helps poor people and is eco friendly#As long as you're not being a dick about it
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cherry pits - psh (m)
this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?
(Spoiler: wrong.)
genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl
word count. 12.9k
a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!
You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.
Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.
One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.
That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money.
Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.
Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.
You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.
The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.
A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.
Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.
As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.
You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty.
You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.
You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.
“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”
“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”
“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over.
The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.
“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.
You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”
You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.
—
That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.
Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.
You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice.
Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.
“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.
“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.
“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house.
“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”
He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples.
“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.
A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior.
“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.
“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.
He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”
“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.
“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.
“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.
“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.
“Sunghoon?”
“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.
“Just water is fine.”
A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.
“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”
“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).
“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”
“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.
“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.
“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”
“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”
“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”
“So you're a student?”
“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”
You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms.
You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?
You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.
“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.
“She’s turning eight this summer.”
“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”
“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”
“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”
“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts.
He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”
You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”
“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”
“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.
He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.
“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”
He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”
“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.
Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.
“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.
“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away.
On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of.
Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly.
“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.
“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”
“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.
“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.
“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”
“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.
“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you.
“C’mon, mom!”
“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”
“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.
“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”
Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.
He does live right by, after all.
That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.
“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”
You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.
“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”
“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”
You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic.
—
One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.
Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.
Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care.
Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.
You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.
“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein.
“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.
You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.”
He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”
“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”
A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”
And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.
“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.
And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right?
Wrong. It’s unbearable.
Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.
At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.
Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-
Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us.
You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.
“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”
“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”
“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”
“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”
“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.
He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”
“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.
Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”
You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”
“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.
“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.
Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.
You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well.
You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice.
He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.
Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you.
He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them.
His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.
You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss.
A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.
“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.
“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.
“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.
“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.
Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”
“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.
“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.
—
Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor.
A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table.
“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you.
Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.
This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy.
It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.
The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.
At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.
The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.
When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.
Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.
You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.
He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hi, Sunghoon.”
He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.
Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.
Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.
Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style.
Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.
She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”
“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.
“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.
“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.
He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.
“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”
“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”
“No, that’s the thing-”
“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”
“No, just listen-”
“So let’s just forget about it, and-”
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.
“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.
“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”
There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”
“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”
“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.
“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.
“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.
“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.
Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.
You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.
Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.
As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly.
“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.
“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.
“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.
“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.
“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.
“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.
“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.
“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.
He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.
Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.
You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.
“Really?”
“Really.”
After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.
You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”
“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.
You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.
You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”
You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.
“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.
“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.
“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.
“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”
He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”
“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.
He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.
“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”
The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.
“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax.
You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.
Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.
His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.
“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.
“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.
“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.
His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.
You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.
He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.
“Was that too much?”
“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.
“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.
“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.
“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.
You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.
—
You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.
“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.
“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.
“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.
“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”
“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.
“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.
“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”
“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.
“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn.
“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.
There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?
The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.
this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!
permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)
© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#enhypen hard hours#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon fluff#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfiction#sunghoon fanfiction#enhypen imagines#sunghoon imagines
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Do a remaster on the Yan bailey smut but this time it’s DOB yan bailey please and thank you 💕☺️💕
God, I want all of the Dob characters so badly (dob harper is so disgusting I wanna fuck him until I bleed out.) Back to badly tho!!!
AMAB Bailey | GN PC
Bailey has always been kind of a mystery. He's got a lot of things that a caretaker wouldn't have. Nice clothes and, a polite demeanor. He's always well put together and calm. It's nothing like you would imagine someone surrounded by children to be. He's so kind and clean that you're not even sure why some of the more deranged threats you've heard around town threaten to send people to "the caretaker"
Bailey is so kind to you that the moment you're in his office begging for any kind of job he agrees. You tell him you're new to cleaning and general care but you'll do your best. And to your surprise, he believes you.
Every hour he checks on you. He makes light conversation with you and pats your little head. You always smile at him when he does these things it makes you both feel nice.
Near the end of your first shift, you saw him in the kitchen. His gloves are shoved haphazardly into his back pocket and his sleeves rolled up to the elbow as he portions and cuts bits of meat for a stew. His hands are a bit shaky his knuckles are covered in bruises, fresh ones. He seems a little frustrated so you offer to help.
He steps aside letting you... and from then on you are allowed to stay even past dinner. Bailey still pays you for your time as long as you eat in his office with him.
The first meal you both had was strange. He kept staring. Every spoonful of stew was good but slightly strange as Bailey watched. It's like he was waiting for something to happen... you could never figure it out. But he got less strange after that. Every meal since he's been staring less and less. You're grateful for it.
Getting paid by Bailey is always a journey though. He jokes and laughs and makes conversation with you. It's clear he's stretching out this time he's supposed to be paying you for your work. One time he even joked that if you married him he'd take care of the loan sharks that were terrorizing your family....
You never mentioned them to him before...
Bailey's advances only get less subtle as the days and weeks go on. It's good work. You get a meal every day. The orphans call you "mom" sometimes and Bailey refers to you as his spouse. Every day there's meat on the table and you get enough money each week to keep you and your family above water. But never enough to quit your job with Bailey...
And then it happens. You bring up the wrong question while you're helping make dinner. But how were you supposed to know?
"Where do you get all this meat anyway?" You ask offhandedly. Sure you're curious but you are not pressed for the answer. In your mind, it doesn't matter. Bailey can afford it. So why wouldn't he?
Bailey twitches a bit he smirks when he tilts his head at you. "I cut my meat. I save every bit. Makes things cheaper." He explains but he pauses too long between every sentence. Like an inside joke, no one is laughing along too.
You try to laugh it off but Bailey gets closer. "You want to see it?" Bailey asks. But you back away from him. You don't.
Bailey reaches out to pet your head just like the softer moments before. "You are basically part of the family. I can tell you."
Family. That dreaded word again. Bailey brings it up in front of the orphans far too often for your liking. You don't need to be Bailey's family. You have your own.
Bailey grips your hips before shoving you into the counter. It hits your lower back stunning you a bit. You didn't see this coming- his gloved hands press bruises into your hips.
He leans down to kiss you forcefully his mouth tastes of blood. So much blood that it's got to be unhealthy. You choke as his tongue presses over yours your mouth is coated in his saliva.
Bailey pulls away from you a bit before he hooks his hand into your waistband and shoves it down exposing your body to the warm air of the kitchen. Bailey hoists you up onto the counter with a surprising amount of strength before dipping his face between your legs to lick at you.
Bailey is covering you in his drool no part of your groin is left untouched as he licks and bites away between your thighs. You trembling now your mouth still tastes like blood and you bite back moans and little sounds as Bailey makes sure you feel thoughily violated.
It feels like hours before he pulls away from your hips. He adjusts them as close to the edge of the counter as he can before he unzips his pants letting his cock spring out and tease at your wet hole. He pets your head lightly before grabbing you by the back of your neck and holding you tightly before thrusting in. Bailey is so rough with your body that it hurts. No matter how hard he tried to prepare you. Bailey is big...
He leans in still holding you by the scruff before whispering to you. "You're mine now." He lets out a dark chuckle before he continues his thrusting is getting worse. The counter rattles with every movement and what's worse is Bailey seems to be enjoying himself too much. You tried to be nice and accept his help. You just wanted a job. You just wanted things to be easy for once
You whimper and whine as he keeps pressing into you your body feels cheap and used as Bailey holds you tightly Bailey rubs the outline of his dick in your stomach with his thumb. He's proud as he feels it making you look.
when bailey finally cums inside you he keeps your hips pressed tightly against his. Every twitch of his dick is felt by your over-sensitive walls. And bailey laughs a bit when he finally pulls out he grabs your leg keeping your spread open as he looks at your hole dripping his cum onto the counter.
"You look good enough to eat-"
#bailey the caretaker#dob bailey#dob#tw violence#tw rape#tw dubcon#tw cannibalism#tw implied forced cannibalism#tw assault#tw ass eating#tw cunalingus#tw forced family#tw loan sharks#????#this is going in the books guys!!#i had way to much fun#my meaty man (*￣∇￣*)#yan dol#yandere#tw yandere#yandere tropes#x reader#gn reader
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Can I get a sugar mommy/daddy gn s/o x greasers headcanons?! (nothing creepy, and no age gap like that but I’m talking if like they dated a really rich soc who got them anything they wanted) I just think this would be super hilarious and kind of a good concept for a dynamic
Much love thanks youuuuu!
ILYSM and shore🫶🫶BTW IM doing these hcs with @urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites ‼️ check out their blog🫶🥰
ponyboy:
guy lowk balling after you start treating him to material things
like don’t get me wrong he’s really gracious
but everyone starts noticing his newer jeans and how you guys always go to nicer, more expensive restaurants
its honestly really cutie
and he always says thanks no matter what like even if it’s actually not that big of a deal he’s like
”🧍♀️🫵😀no. thank YOU”
LMAOO
johnny:
probably barely understands what’s going on ngl
just cause he has never been treated that nicely when it comes to material things
so it makes him kinda uncomfortable at first
cause money was such a tight subject in his awful family that he’s like NO don’t get me that ring and when you do he genuinely appreciates it
probably doesn’t really express it though, other than a quick “thanks😀”
but that’s ok cause bro has had a hard knock life asf✊
sodapop:
goes a LITTLE crazy with the shopping
but for genuine stuff like clothes or shoes or smth
not like TWO BIT (more on him later)
ANYWAYS
once he finds out you’re paying for dinner he gets MANY apps and ‘serts
as the middle child he kinda has to try a bit harder to get attention when it comes to his brothers
but he really appreciates all you do for him🫶
darry:
SAYS NO TO YOU PAYING FOR STUFF
but in like, an affectionate way🥰‼️
just cause he’s already used to having to work for everything he’s gotten
he doesn’t really like you paying for him bc of that
but you just keep. insisting. and he’s very thankful
bc he gets to save money on like groceries or smth actually important😭
dally:
probably just like
”*scoff* no.”
he just seems the type to not accept that cause he has an EGOOO
like if he and cherry (or someone like cherry) went on a date and they offered to pay he’d be like 🤨
“uh…what?”
but that doesn’t mean he’s paying for your luxury fashion sprees
yall just go to wherever he can afford so like
…the dumpster🧍♀️
LMAOOOO
two-bit:
GOOFY
i feel like i start all his hcs with “GOOFY” but here we go again
probably buys candy or cigarettes or pranks just dumb stuff
and he comes back with an armful of crap and you’re like
”o-okay then🧍♀️”
it’s funny though cause you learn to lighten up a bit
eventually you cut his money supply off tho LMAO
steve:
probably doesn’t really notice
but his household life SUCKS too so he seems like a johnny type reaction dude
just awkwardly says thanks
BUT
he really does remember all the nice things you do for him that you didn’t have to
very sweetie🥰
ANYWAYS MY INBOX IS OPENNN🫶‼️‼️
#the outsiders#dallas winston#ponyboy curtis#johnny cade#the outsiders sodapop#darry curtis#steve randle#two bit mathews#matt dillon#sodapop curtis
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Hi, I’m not sure if you’ve answered this already, What kind of paper do you use when printing your pages?? I’d love to try my hand at book binding some of my faves that I have saved on my library, I’m just super nervous lol
Sure!! So, there's a WIDE range, even in my latest books, because there's a couple characteristics I'm juggling. The set I still have to write up a post for, it was done on inexpensive staples paper (I still have multiple packs of this stuff stored), while the two books I posted before that are done on the Church Paper bookbinding special. I spent MONTHS working from extremely generic, cheap paper, and I stand by the idea that there's nothing wrong with it! Fancy paper is one way you can level up your bookbinding, but it's not the only way, or even the first one I could pursue. Before I say anything else, I personally do encourage people to buy the really affordable staples paper without fussing about the other stuff, so they can focus on other aspects of the hobby without spending money on something you're going to print on, fold, glue, and ruin. You'll have plenty of opportunities to mess up your paper, you don't need to spend fancy money until you're comfortable.
(and you can stop there if you're overwhelmed! I think that's an entirely valid perspective to bookbind from).
First, the easiest characteristic I'm juggling here is paper color. Most books run somewhere in the bleached-white range to ivory. Some people think bleached-white is a little stark, or that ivory is just too yellow. I don't personally have strong feelings, but some people do. I might choose a cream paper if I want an antique vibe, or I might choose white if my endpapers have a stark white I want to match, but it only matters as much as you want it to.
Second, paper weight. I fuss less than I probably should, but even basic printer paper runs a range from very thin to noticeably thick. That matters to me, occasionally, for fiddly projects. I have my 32 lb paper because I needed to make wedding guestbooks feel as thick and substantial as possible. If I have a long book I want to wedge into my guillotine, I'll pick thin paper to minimize bulk. This isn't something you have to be concerned with at this point.
Third, and arguably most mechanically important, is paper grain. I really don't like the emphasis that gets placed on this when beginner bookbinders are trying to get a grasp on the hobby for the first time, I don't want you to stress about this more than you want to. I ignored it completely for months. But the idea is that paper has a grain, as if it was a miniature bamboo mat. In one direction, you're working with the grain, and it will bend or fold more easily. In the other direction, you have to force it a little. Ideally, all materials you use with a grain will have it running parallel to the spine of the book. For the pages, it means your pages will flop more easily in the directions they ought to be turning, if that makes sense.
Most commercial 8.5x11 paper is long grain, which is "wrong" for half-letter books. If you fold a piece of letter paper in half like a hamburger, the grain is wrong for a book. My position is that this is NOT something you should feel obligated to account for at first. I spent months working with the wrong grain, my wrong grain books handle absolutely fine, they aren't in worse shape than my books with the right grain, i think accessibility and not overwhelming beginners is more important than enforcing a bajillion best practices right from the start.
The link for church paper I provided is special because short-grain paper, if you can find it, will have the right grain direction for a half-letter book. At this stage in my bookbinding experience, if I'm making a half-letter book, I'll look to my short-grain paper first. If I'm making a quarto, I'll look to long-grain. If there's some other characteristic of the book that steers me towards the wrong grain, I'll just let it happen. I include this because I feel obligated to say it, not because I think you need to worry about it right now. A book that exists is better than a book that doesn't exist, and it's entirely valid to make it with whatever paper is most convenient for you to acquire. Even if you do every possible step totally wrong, a handbound fic will easily, EASILY last for years.
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Neighbors
The apartment was a good price for its level here in Coruscant. Rent to own. You don't see anything wrong with the foundation or the piping or the paint to indicate expensive trouble. Most of the neighbors seem fine. It’s right next to the Jedi Temple and its weird wizard monks. But the price…
You move in and nothing happens. You've heard all manner of rumors about the Jedi but the only encounter you have is a normal, neighborly delivery of home-made treats. Everything is amazing, do the Jedi put crack in all their food or something?
Half a year later there's a plumbing issue. It behaves itself only when somebody else comes by. You’re at wits ends. They’re your neighbors, that means they should help you out right? So you go to one of the temple guards.
Umm excuse me, my house, my apartment there's something wrong with the plumbing but no one seems to figure out what it is or believe me. Can you check on it? The Temple Guard might as well be made of stone. But minutes later another Jedi comes.
She does indeed check the problem and fix it. It would have cost you who knows how much. You insist on feeding her. Afterwards you take meals to the Temple for a week. They really did save you a lot of money and it's neighborly.
When Qui-Gon Jinn's death appears on the news, you give your condolences. And your gratitude they stopped that awful Naboo invasion. The Trade Federation is awful. But the new chancellor sounds like he will do right thing and kick them out of the Senate.
He never does.
When the war comes, you give the Jedi some good luck victory herbs you grew in your kitchen and thank them for their service. And find out they were drafted into that service. The one you meet would much rather negotiate for peace. You’re sorry.
The Jedi grow weary. You bring them what you can and help what you can. So does everyone in your building. The Jedi are constantly injured, tired, and the war only grows worse. Others say they're warmongers. You and yours post the truth on the holo net.
The truth doesn't seem to matter to anyone else, even when the Jedi defend Coruscant itself and everyone near the Temple takes shelter during the invasion. You help deliver things to their Infirmary, to the Jedi and the clones there. They are too kind for war.
One night you wake to screams. To blaster fire. You grab your pepper spray in one hand and a hammer in the other and peek out your apartment door. The temple is on fire. Awful sounds within. You should help them. That is neighborly. You are afraid.
You finally work up the courage to get to the door. There is no familiar guard. You knock very quietly. No one answers. You swallow and nudge the door open. “Hello,” you whisper “Are you alright?” You can only hear more screams and shots.
Finally a Jedi appears. They look awful. They beg you to help the little ones in their arms. “I’ll be right back,” they assure as you take the little ones. They lied. They never come back. You learn about the treason later, but that's not possible. And even if it is…
They didn’t deserve THIS.
The new emperor moves in. The wiser of your neighbors move out. You hide the little ones and feed them. When the clones come looking for Jedi you lie. The laws pass and the neighborly aid you give becomes illegal. They’re so young. You hope they’ll be okay.
Some people didn't want to be around the Jedi temple. No one really wanted to be around Palpatine’s palace. Not even his cronies. You are caught because you can't get anything for your place and you can't afford to move.
There is something wrong with the emperor's palace. It's haunted they say. He does unnatural things there. You can feel the cold coming from that place. You don't dare welcome them with food. They don’t bring you any. Some nights you still hear screams
one night you swear you see the ghost of a temple guard, several burned holes in them, blood dribbling down their robes. The ghost looks at you at points away. You can't afford to move but you go anyway. Afterward you learned the building and inhabitants were…confiscated.
#Star Wars#jedi#Jedi order#writing#Jedi as neighbors#canon compliant#Prequels#You're just a normal person living in Coruscant#Clone Wars#Tragic
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The Last Chance (II)
Chapter 2: Finding
Here is the second part of my short series for Ben, that I’ve written based on a request for my Comeback Event! The trope requested was ‘wrong time to right time’.
I hope you like this second part! Tell me what you think about it!
****
Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader
Warning: angst… with a happy ending 😉 But for this first part, it’s rather just a mix of angst and fluff.
Summary: you and Ben have been caught in a game of hide and seek for decades now; always loving each other at the wrong time in your lives. Can this finally be the right moment for the two of you?
Word count: 5600
John seems a little bored, but you’re still thankful that he’s not complaining or pushing you to leave. You know you’re spending too much time in this bookshop, but you can’t help it. This used to be your bookshop.
Your fingers travel across the soft covers, you take in a deep breath to fill your lungs with the specific scent of new books.
You used to come here as a student. It was a long time ago though. A decade has passed since you’ve been back in this neighbourhood. How time flies…
You remember coming here with Cassie to buy as many books as you could afford with the money you saved from working during the summer. You remember coming with him too… with Ben…
He always carried your books, until he started buying some for himself too, and you always walked out with two equally large piles of books in your arms. He joked that you were even more obsessed with books than he was, and you always contradicted him.
You stare at this corner, over there. It’s dimly lit because of a tall shelf blocking the nearest lamp suspended at the ceiling. Shelves of wood. Leather covers. You remember how Ben kissed you there that afternoon. It was raining, he was soaked, just like you. You remember his wet hair falling before his glimmering eyes, and his loud laugh, and the way raindrops slipped down his cheek to hang at his jawline, as if they didn’t want to fall…
You look away. This is ridiculous. You haven’t seen Ben in ten years, and for all you know, he’s off somewhere on the other side of the planet to work on a film or a tv-show. He’s probably in LA, under the sun. Meanwhile you’re in London, under the rain…
Still, you don’t regret coming here. It’s nice to see that this place has barely changed since the days when you were a student gathering books and happy memories between these walls.
John is on his phone now, and you don’t pay any attention to him. He’s not worth it. He’s nice enough and he’s good in bed, so you’ve given him a chance. But it’s been two months and you can already tell there’s nothing there. You’re looking for something more, and he can’t give it to you. He’s a little too… self-centred.
You wonder why you’re here with him at all, actually.
You pick up a book, turn it around and read the summary written at the back. The pretty cover caught your eye, and you’re weighing your options. You’re already carrying three books in your hands, maybe that’s enough for one trip to the bookshop. You can hear Ben’s voice though…
One can never have too many books, darling…
It’s funny that you’re thinking about him like this today. You haven’t really thought about him in a long time. You are reminded of him whenever you see an article in a magazine, a picture of him on a bus, his face on a screen. But then again, you spent a lot of time together in this bookshop, it must be the reason why he’s in your thoughts right now.
You walk around a table, scanning the covers and the titles, with four books in your arms now. Still, you want to stay a little longer; might as well keep hunting then…
You look around in search for inspiration when you notice a silhouette you’re almost certain to recognize. Tall, dark hair… his back is to you, but the height is the same, and his posture, and everything about him…
Surely, you’re merely hallucinating. It’s just the past playing with your head because you came back in this stupid bookshop…
You can’t help but stare though, and he must have felt your gaze because he turns around now with a slight frown.
And it’s him. It’s Ben.
You let out an audible gasp, your eyes growing round. What are the chances for you to see your ex here? He’s supposed to be on the other side of the planet?!
You recognize him in an instant though, you had no doubt in your mind that it is truly Ben standing there, before you. His face, his stubble, his dark eyes… dear God, those eyes…
And he seems to immediately recognize you as well, because you see his eyes growing round with shock, his eyebrows shooting up and his lips parting. He seems to be as aghast as you are.
You tighten your hold on your books, hesitating. Should you go talk to him? Or ignore him?
You told him you didn’t want to see him again when the two of you broke up, but then again, this was ten years ago. You are over him now. And he is over you. Surely, a hello can’t hurt.
He starts walking towards you, dark eyes fixed upon your gaze, and you advance as well, forcing a shy smile to your lips. You both stop a couple of steps away from each other.
“Y/N?”
You nod.
“Hi, Ben.”
“Wow… I… I did not expect to see you here,” he admits. “But… how are you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m… I’m great, huh… I’ve moved back to London a few months ago and… thought I’d come back to this bookshop. You know, now that we’re over thirty it’s time for melancholia and all that cheesy shit.”
He laughs, this same laugh you remember perfectly. He still seems a little lost, a little aghast, but he’s laughing all the same, and it still feels warm and reassuring, even after all those years.
Damn, he is even more handsome than the last time you saw him, how can this even be possible?
Meanwhile, he thinks you haven’t changed a bit. Still the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Still hilarious.
Damn, you’re even more beautiful than the last time he saw you, how can this even be possible?
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, as long as the conversation doesn’t end so quickly and you don’t leave, but he finds himself at a loss for words. Seeing you again like this, unexpected… it’s too much for him.
“What about you?” you ask, and he’s thankful that you’re speaking again, that you’re not simply disappearing. “I thought you were somewhere exotic like… LA or… Toronto… or Sydney. But not here in this awfully wet weather.”
“I… I’m here to see my family, actually. I’m flying to New York in a month.”
“Oh, I see. So, these are your vacations, sort of?”
“Exactly. Vacations spent with my mom who is still forcing me to cook more and playing the emotional blackmail of disappointment to do so; and trying not to answer my dad’s questions when he tries to play shrink on me; and with my little brother driving me nuts…”
“So… very good holidays, then.”
“Extremely nice, indeed.”
You exchange a smile. Yours is still as infectious as it was ten years ago. Bright, luminous, you could outshine the sun…
And he still has this freckle under his right eye, that beauty spot you loved so much back in the days. You still adore it now…
He’s about to speak again when you feel a hand rest on the small of your back. John has just appeared by your side.
“Are you ready? You’ve got everything you wanted?” he asks in a sweet tone.
You nod, before turning to Ben again.
“Huh… sorry… this is John. And John, this is Ben.”
The two men shake hands, and Ben studies John’s features. He wears nice clothes. Blond hair and handsome face, he can’t deny it. Strong handshake. Maybe too strong to be friendly, but Ben doesn’t mind. He feels like he doesn’t really want to be friends with this guy, anyway.
“How do you two know each other?” John asks, his hand still on your back, and Ben doesn’t need any more explanation to understand that he’s at least your boyfriend, at most your husband.
Your husband… are you married? You could be, after ten years, it would be perfectly logical. Maybe… maybe you even have children…
You’re not sure what to say, you don’t want to tell that Ben is your ex. It’s none of John’s business anyway.
Ben comes to your rescue, luckily.
“We went to university together,” he answers. “We haven’t seen each other in… a long time. Better not count, at this point,” he jokes, and you feel John relaxing by your side.
“Oh, that’s weird that you’re bumping into each other like that!”
“Yes, it is.”
“We… we used to come here to buy books together, back in the days,” you added, and you saw Ben’s eyes growing more tender.
“We spent all the money we had on books…”
“I still do,” you joke, showing the four books in your arms, making Ben laugh and John smile.
“Well… you haven’t changed a bit,” Ben adds, his voice a little weak, but then his throat has tightened, and it’s harder for him to breathe.
“You haven’t changed that much either.”
Ben doesn’t know what has gotten into him when he speaks again. Because… this is a bad idea. The two of you broke up for a reason, and you said you never wanted to see him again for a reason and now… this man could be your husband, you could have kids and then… is it a good idea to ask you this? When clearly, judging by the way Ben’s heart is beating faster and faster by the minute, he’s clearly not completely over you.
Or no, it’s not true. He is over you. He is. He’s had serious relationships since the two of you broke up. He loved you dearly, but he has fallen for other women since your breakup. And he has an amazing life, and a great career, he’s doing what he wanted to do when he was younger. He loves it. He has a great life. He’s over this, over you, over your adorable smile, and your pretty eyes, and your infectious laugh, he is over all of this. He hasn’t thought about you in a long time.
He's over you, and yet, it’s so strange to see you here, like this… he wants to know what has happened in your life since your paths parted. He wants to know if you’re happy.
And so, he makes you an offer that surprises you both.
“Actually… I mean… it’s so crazy that we’re meeting here like this… what would you say if we grabbed a coffee and caught up on lost time?”
You raise your eyebrows, and he can see that you’re hesitating.
“I mean… I’m only staying for a few weeks, but… maybe we can take an hour to talk around some coffee or tea and then we’ll go our separate ways again. Would you like that?”
You want to say no. You really do. Because, you’re over him. You’ve had serious relationships in these ten years that followed your breakup. You’re happy, you have a nice job.
You’re over him… right?
Your heart is beating so fast though, as you stare into his eyes. Still as dark as they were ten years ago. A shade of brown so dark that you can’t see where his pupils start and where his irises end. It drives you crazy…
No, you’re over him. All of this… it’s just because you’re seeing him again after so long, out of the blue, and you’re kind of in shock because of it. That’s all. You’re in shock.
But if you take some time to talk with him, then you’ll realize that Ben belongs to the past.
“Actually… that would be lovely. Yeah, I’d love that.”
Ben grins.
“What about… I saw that this old coffeeshop where we used to go… the one around the corner of this small street, near the park… do you remember that?”
“Of course, I remember.”
“Apparently, the place is still open. Maybe we could meet there?”
“Alright… Saturday afternoon?”
“At four?”
“Perfect!”
“Alright!”
You grin at each other like two idiots. You don’t even notice anymore that John is standing next to you, that you’re in a bookshop surrounded by people. You just… stare at Ben and his wonderful eyes, and his warm smile and…
… you can’t wait for this cup of tea.
You’re more nervous than you care to admit. It’s ridiculous because this is just Ben. Ben who used to be your boyfriend, Ben whom you have not seen in ten years. You don’t need to be nervous. You know him already, or well, this old version of him. You don’t need to impress him, because the two of you broke up and it was for the best, really. No need to be nervous. Not at all…
Still, as you wait for him, sitting at a table next to a large window, you are terribly nervous. You try to distract yourself by looking at all these strangers passing by. The sky is grey but the weather is not bad today. You want to go for a walk after this. It’s the beginning of spring, there must be flowers in full bloom already, somewhere.
You’re busy looking at the cars passing by, and you don’t notice the door of the café opening and closing. You only notice Ben once he has already reached the table.
“Hi,” you greet him with a broad smile, and he gives you a matching one too.
“Hello.”
He sits down, takes off his grey coat. You notice that he’s blushing, and you can’t help but smile. He’s still shy…
You order some tea, and it’s awkward at the beginning. He looks as nervous as you, and rightly so. He’s more nervous than he’s been in years. In a good way though. No matter his nerves, he’s happy to see you.
You look so beautiful like this…
“So… how are you doing these days? How is work?” you ask, deciding to lead the conversation, as Ben remains quiet for now.
“Good. Great, actually. It’s working out pretty great.”
“I saw your face on a few buses along the years…” you joke, and he chuckles, but still seems embarrassed.
“Right… yeah, it’s worked out well.”
“I’ve watched some of your stuff.”
“You have?”
You nod, cursing yourself for confessing this so easily.
“And… you weren’t too ashamed of me, then?” he jokes, but you look serious when you answer.
“I’ll never be ashamed of you, Ben,” you shake your head.
He feels his throat tightening, and he has to look away.
Damn… he’s been here for ten minutes and you are already turning his whole world upside-down…
“I mean… at the exception of the boyband incident…”
He explodes with laughter, and you do too. The tension in the air diminishes a little. It feels good. You feel yourself relaxing in your chair at the sound of his loud laughter. It’s soothing, happy. Just the way you remember it.
“Let’s not bring that up, please. I’ve done so many more things since.”
“More ridiculous ones? For that kind of stories, I’m all ears.”
You’re laughing again, and Ben is finally relaxing. It’s still you. Even after ten years, it’s still you right there, in front of him. Same laugh. Same adorable smile. You still make him feel warm and happy and joyous. You’re still hilarious.
He’s missed you so much, more than he will ever admit.
You talk about his career for a while, he tells you some funny stories, and time flies by without either of you noticing. Your cups are empty, they have been so for a while, but you don’t care. When the conversation drifts back towards you, it’s been almost an hour. You tell him about your career, your family, your friends.
“So, you’re still writing, then,” he says with a tender smile on his lips.
“Yep. In a very small newspaper, which will never earn me a Pulitzer. And I am very happy about it. It’s not really my thing. I prefer to be… invisible. I’m not ambitious enough to be in the spotlight, I reckon.”
He nods, and you notice that he clenches his jaw.
“You would have hated my life,” he states, you know it’s not a question, more of a fact. “I’m not that famous though, you know? It’s very rare that anyone recognizes me in the street.”
“Yeah, well… Still… you have a Wikipedia page. That’s already way too much for me.”
Again, he nods his head, looks down at the inside of his empty cup, at the brown stains left by tea on the white porcelain.
“We were right to break up, weren’t we?”
He doesn’t look up at you again before he’s finished asking his question. You give him a reassuring smile.
“Yeah, I think we were right. What else could we have done?”
He takes a deep breath, sitting straighter again on his chair.
He’s got stubble colouring his cheeks, almost a beard really, at this point. You decide it suits him. You wish you could run your hands up and down his cheeks, just to know how it feels to touch him like this…
“You haven’t told me anything about John yet!” Ben points out.
But you merely shrug.
“There’s not much to tell, really. We’ve been together for a couple of months but… I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not like there is any drama behind it. He’s nice but… we don’t like the same things. And he finds the things I love boring, and I’m really not interested in the things he loves so… I don’t know, we’ll see.”
Ben hates the way his throat tightens when he’s about to ask his next question. He hates that he dreads the answer, because he wants you to be happy. You were something ages ago, but now… he genuinely hopes you’re happy and have a fulfilling life. It’s selfish of him to wish there was no one in your life…
“And… do you have children? An ex-husband? Or wife, who knows?”
You chuckle, but shake your head.
“None of the above. You?”
“Nope. It’s hard to settle down with my job and… everything, really. It’s hard.”
“Because you travel a lot?”
“Yeah, I would be lying if I pretended it’s not an issue. But then… I’m a little cautious too, too much perhaps. But I know some people are not around me just for my wonderful sense of humour, let’s put it that way.”
“Oh… that must hurt.”
“It does, the first time around. Then… you expect it.”
“I’m sorry something like that happened to you. You don’t deserve to live something like that.”
“Because someone else does?”
“I mean… you’re… you’re you.”
He frowns at that, amused. You struggle to find the right words, unwilling to be too earnest, but you end up speaking your mind anyway.
“You’re probably the kindest person I’ve ever met. That’s what I meant. You’re a nice guy.”
He gives you a tender smile, maybe too tender…
“Although, you must admit that you’re sense of humour is terrible, so…”
“Shut up!”
You’re both laughing again.
“I’m hilarious,” he protests.
“You truly are. In a very cute way.”
“Ha… I’m still not a bad boy, that I’ll admit.”
“Good. That would have been too cliché. The hot guy being a baddie…”
“You think I’m hot? I didn’t even have to use the drummer-in-a-rock-band argument this time around!”
You’re in public, maybe you shouldn’t be laughing so loudly, but you don’t care. You haven’t laughed this much in ages.
It feels good to have him back.
He checks his watch, and winces.
“We’ve been talking for almost two hours now…” he says, looking guilty. “I’m sorry if you’re late for something…”
“No, no, no! I… have nothing planned after this. Do you?”
“No, nothing.”
“I just… I wanted to take a walk, that’s all.”
“That’s nice. Flowers have started blooming, it’s the perfect season.”
“Exactly.”
You bite your lip before asking your next question, and Ben’s heart melts under his ribs…
“Would you like to take a walk with me then?”
He gives you one of his brightest grins.
“Yeah, sure… I’d love that.”
You leave the coffee shop and walk across the streets of London, end up eating a pizza sitting on the banks of the Thames, before heading for a pub.
And all the while you’re laughing. It’s easy to be around Ben. You thought it wouldn’t be after so long, after what happened between the two of you, but it is. It truly is as easy as breathing. Conversation and jokes and banter come naturally between the two of you, and when silence settles for a while, it is a warm and welcoming one.
He insists on walking you home, cause it’s already past midnight when you walk out of a bar and decide to call it a night. He walks all the way to the door of your building, and the truth is, he’s not being zealous solely to ensure you’re not bothered by some drunken guy in a dark alley. He simply doesn’t want this to end…
“I’m leaving in three weeks,” he says out of the blue, right when you’re about to bid him good night.
“I know.”
“Well… I thought… I don’t know about you but… I had a lovely time today. It felt… it was great to see you again, and to catch up.”
“Yes, it was nice. I’ve enjoyed this afternoon… turned evening… turned night…”
You both chuckle, Ben burying his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. He’s nervous, you can tell. He’s blushing again, enough so for you to notice it in the dim light of the street. He’s handsome like this, with his grey coat, and dark jeans, and white shirt…
“Well, as I still have a little time before leaving… maybe we could do something together, before I go. We could… I don’t know what you would want to do but… I’d love to see you again, at least once, before I leave.”
You’re hesitating, he can tell. You’re biting your lower lip nervously, looking away.
You’re beautiful like this, bathed in golden streetlights…
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he goes on, a kind smile on his face, although he’s terrible at hiding his disappointment. “I get it. We were… something a long time ago, but we’re not anymore. And the plan was to never cross paths again. So… if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine. It’s okay, Y/N.”
But when you look up at him, you’re smiling.
“Have you been to the British Museum since you’ve come back? I heard they have a special exhibition about Italian Renaissance these days.”
“I… no, I haven’t. Sounds interesting, though.”
“We could go together. Next Saturday? Some people here have a regular job during the week…”
You both laugh, and a grin remains on your two faces when Ben nods.
“I’d love that. 2pm?”
“Perfect. Goodnight, Ben.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
You don’t push him away when you see him bending down towards you. You don’t stop him when he cups your face, his thumb brushing your skin. You don’t move away when he leans to drop a kiss on your cheek, lips warm and soft. It’s tender and delicate. You can’t help but close your eyes.
It only lasts a few seconds, and then he’s gone again, hand falling back to his side, and lips curving up in a smile as he looks at you.
You smile up at him, trying to control the way your heart is pounding against your ribcage. You hurry to the door, and he waits until you’ve disappeared to head back to the Tube.
When you go home, you fall on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to process this crazy day of yours. You reach for your phone, scroll down to John’s name to send him a text.
We need to talk tomorrow. Can I drop by?
Send.
You wait until the little ticking symbol appears on the screen to make sure the text has reached its destination, and you look up at the ceiling again.
You need to break up with him…
It’s raining again, you don’t mind though. You like the sound of heavy rain on the glass dome of the museum.
You’ve spent most of your afternoon walking across the galleries with Ben, talking, looking at the exhibits. You’re not sure when you’ve started holding his arm, but you’ve been walking in a leisurely pace like this for a while, that’s for certain.
You’re crossing the hall now, heading towards the exit, walking across the white room. There are children running on your right and laughing. Some tourists take pictures of the entrance hall. It’s busy. There are many people going back and forth, in and out of the galleries. You don’t really notice any of them though. Ben has slowed down, and you’ve noticed the way he stands a little closer to you now.
He doesn’t want this afternoon to end, and neither do you.
You’re not sure what you feel, or why you feel this way. Is it all because Ben was your first love? Is it because of how things ended? Is it out of melancholia?
You’re not sure. Do you like him still? Do you… do you love him still?
You’re not sure, and it doesn’t matter. He gives you butterflies in the stomach and it’s enough.
You linger there, on the threshold. Right before the exit, under the tall columns of stone. It’s quite cold outside, and you shiver. Ben takes your cold hand in his in response.
“I don’t want today to end,” he confesses in a whisper.
“Me neither…”
You stare at each other for a moment, unable to move. You try to read through him, but you can’t…
Someone bumps into you, apologizing, but it’s too late. The spell is broken, the moment has passed. You clear your throat taking a step forward to leave, but Ben doesn’t move, and you have to turn around with a frown.
He’s still staring at you. There’s something strange in his eyes, you’re not sure what it is. He seems a little out of breath, too.
Instead of following you, he takes a deep breath, as if gathering his courage, and he pulls you away. You follow him in silence as he guides you further away, down the passage between the façade and the columns. It’s not really intimate, but it’s out of the way enough, and no one seems to care about the two of you. Actually, you don’t care about anyone but Ben either, at this moment.
“Ben? What’s wrong?” you ask, still frowning.
He stops before a column, near the end of the row of tall pillars. It’s far enough from the entrance for the sound of the heavy rain to almost fully cover the humming of distant conversations from the visitors of the museum. It’s quiet enough.
He takes another deep breath, letting go of your hand and unlocking your arms. He doesn’t step away though, he merely stares at you some more, facing you. He opens his mouth, and you’re sure you’re going to melt under the intensity of his dark eyes. There’s something urgent there, in his gaze. Like… like he’s doing something crazy, something risky, something he didn’t think he would have the courage to do.
But then, a thought seems to pass through his head and he relaxes again. Or rather, he looks less confident. His mouth closes, his jaw sets, his shoulders drop. He looks down at the tip of his shoes.
He’s not like that. He’s not this kind of man. Even if your relationship with this John doesn’t seem serious, he can’t possibly tell you all this when you’re not single. He can’t do it, even if it kills him. He’s not enough of a bad boy to do it…
You’re not sure why you blurt out the news like that. Perhaps because you’re hoping for Ben to say something… and you’re afraid that he’s giving up because of John…
“I’ve broken up with John, by the way.”
His head shoots up.
“What?” he asks in a breath.
“I told you… I didn’t like him that much so… we broke up. I’m single again.”
“Oh…”
“Not that it’s of any interest to you but… I reckon I didn’t tell you about that yet, so…”
“No… no, you didn’t.”
“So… here. I reckon I’ve really said everything interesting that has happened to me in the past ten years now,” you try to joke, but Ben is looking at you with this same intense stare again, and you can’t focus on anything but him.
He blushes, hard, his cheeks turning crimson. But he’s got to say it, because he might not have another chance.
“I know that this is… completely… not what you want to hear, I’m sure. Because we stayed away from each other for a reason, and… we were right to break up. Look at our lives, they are… so different. Insanely so.”
“I agree.”
“And… we couldn’t possibly have a relationship now either, because of how different our lives are, because we don’t want the same things at all.”
“I know.”
“And I should not say that but… despite everything, despite the fact that we haven’t seen each other in ten years, and despite the fact that we can’t be together in a serious relationship… I have to confess that I… I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever since that afternoon in the bookshop I… I can’t stop thinking about you, all the time. I even dream about you. It’s like… you’re keeping my soul, or something. And I have to confess, that… I really want to kiss you right now.”
You stare at him for a moment, unable to breathe, to control your pounding heart, to think at all, really.
He’s waiting for you to say something, anything at all. He reckons he’s fucked up everything, but does it matter? Because you haven’t seen each other in so long, and you were not even supposed to meet again, so what is there to mess up, really?
But instead of speaking, you decide to act. And before Ben can react, you’re leaning up to crash your lips to his.
And it’s just how you remember it. Tender and passionate, like your whole world has shrunk down to the size of his embrace. He wraps an arm around your waist, and holds your face in a soft grasp. You haven’t been kissed so passionately in years…
When the two of you break away, you’re breathless. He rests his forehead against yours, trying to slow down his heartbeat. He fails.
“Do you want to come to my place?”
He finally opens his eyes at that, looking up at you with eyes slightly round. But he recognizes the determination in your gaze. You won’t regret this, he knows it. You want this, as much as he does.
“I’d love that.”
You nod, grins slowly forming on your two faces.
“Maybe… maybe in two weeks, once you go back to LA we could… stay in touch this time,” you offer. “Not… I’m not talking about a relationship, because I know we can’t but… Still, maybe we could stop being strangers?”
Slowly, he nods. But he’s worried as well, you recognize the little frown.
Because… is all this a good idea? He’s acting very spontaneously right now, and he can’t say that he likes it. This is going too fast. It’s dangerous. He doesn’t want to get hurt, and above all, he doesn’t want to hurt you. If you’re to be friends, is sleeping with you now a wise decision?
“If we want to do this, to stay in touch after I’m back in LA… is it a good idea? That we… spend the night together, I mean.”
You shrug.
“I don’t know.”
“Then let’s… let’s make a deal. We spend tonight together. We spend… the following weeks together, actually. We stay in touch after I leave, but then… just as friends. These two weeks are the last time we’re more than friends. Because otherwise, it’s just going to be a mess…”
“Deal. I agree.”
“You’re sure?”
But you nod and give him a reassuring smile.
“I’m sure. I agree with that.”
“Alright.”
“Alright.”
Before you can add another word, Ben kisses you again, even more passionately than before, if that is even possible. He takes a step forward to press your back against the column behind you, while you lose your fingers in his hair.
He tastes of tea and something sweet… a fruit you can’t quite recognize.
When his lips leave yours to trace a hot trail of kisses down your jaw and neck, you run your fingers through his short beard, shivers running up your spine as he sucks on the skin of your throat.
“We should go, Ben.”
He finally detaches his lips from your skin, biting playfully your earlobe before taking a step back. You’re both out of breath again, his lips look a little bruised already.
He offers you his open hand and a grin.
“Let’s go then, darling.”
You hate the fact that your knees grow weak at the sound of your old pet name, but you take his hand anyway, and together you run under the rain, laughing, heading to the subway.
#ben barnes#ben barnes x reader#ben barnes x you#ben barnes x y/n#ben barnes fanfiction#ben barnes fic#ben barnes fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#writing#ben barnes series#series
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Kirishima’s Mystique:Price to Pay
Being a pro hero was never an easy line of work certainly and that wasn’t just taking into account the risks involved dealing with super crooks, nevermind homicidal villains and freakish genetic abominations. One of the biggest non-hazard issues had to the matter regarding collateral damage, many didn’t want to risk a repeat of the near fiasco that occurred for American pro hero Mr.Incredible after all. In his defence that guy he saved from committing suicide was being a petty ingrate but at least it was avoided, but all the same, it was an unspoken rule that you cause the wrong kind of damage! You’d better be ready to set it right.
For our resident hard headed redhead of course, he was seriously wishing he could turn back time and get out of such a situation he found himself in. Really who could blame the poor guy as he was currently bowing and kneeling low as one could before one very pissed off, swimsuit clad orange haired bombshell, apologising best he could but knowing it’d be in vain. After all you don’t go and trash an entire yacht belong to the one and only Ms.Nami, former international pirate and cat burglar, renowned cartographer and navigator and glamour model. No sir, Kirishima knew his goose was cooked and she was going to get her compensation one way or another.
it’d been a routine enough type of mission, pursuing a crook who was using their quirk for unlawful purposes with the chase having been taken right into a harbour. It’d been expected that there would be collateral, so of course a few old rusty tubs or a warehouse getting wrecked was fine but then the guy brought them right to where a high class quality luxury yacht had been docked. That was when it all went to hell when the owner herself returned to find her little ocean based home away from home severely damaged and messed up after he’d finished securing the renegade for capture. The moment Eijiro recognised her on sight and the livid beyond belief expression on her face, he knew he was fucked.
Kirishima:”Please miss, I know I said I’m sorry enough and I definitely can’t afford the repairs, but I promise you on my honour as a hero and a man to make it up to you!!”*The chivalrous himbo declared, swearing he’d do whatever it took to set things right with Nami, least enough she wouldn’t sue for everything he, UA and HPSCA was worth. She was a very influential woman with some potent connections snd economic influence that matched her quite boner inducing. Seriously she was sexy as hell even when angry, not that he’d say that out loud to her. He wasn’t Mineta after all and he was in deep hot water enough as is.*
Nami:*Her chestnut coloured eyes glaring at Kirishima with enough intensity to match a laser, she processed his words and thought them over. As pissed off as she was, she still had enough sense to see a good opportunity presenting itself when she saw it.*”So you’d be willing to do anything then? Alright musclehead, I think I have a way you can work off your debt…follow me…”*Snapping her fingers as she had the sturdy hero trailer after her inside to the inner decks of her yacht that hadn’t been wrecked. A mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a sly grin as she could feel the himbo try not to stare at her glorious backside and fail.*
Nami was sexy and she knew it, so nothing she enjoyed as much as money was having the attention of a man on her she had to say Kirishima was more than easy on the eyes. Feeling his own crimson red peepers glued to her swimsuit clad rear as she added a little sway and sashay, tempted to twerk and make those thing devouring booty cheeks clap. A bounce in her playful rep as her boobs jiggled before they soon came to the servants quarters, entering inside as she opened a closet and fished out a butler’s outfit and handed it to him. Making it clear she wanted him to strip and change into it as she decided he would work off his debt by catering to her on hand and foot for as long as need be until they were square and even.
When Eijiro began to do just that of course, Nami couldn’t help but feel herself getting tingly in all the right places as inches and acres of sculpted, training honed and carved muscle was revealed to her. Sensually licking her lips as he carefully laid out the uniform and stood clad in a pair of tight spat boxers which highlighted quite a well toned ass and felt her thighs become warm and sticky from the flow of arousal pouring forth from her snatch. He was certainly dashing in his hero outfit but seeing him near naked like this was reminding Nami how bad a dry spell she had been having recently, now she was staring to have a different idea in mind for how he could work off his debt to her. One that would scratch her itch and prove to be much more fun for the both of them as she walked up behind him, hugging his waist as her arms wrapped around it and she pressed her here,r against his back in a way she knew he would feel the weight of her soft, plump titties.
Nami:*Purring as she whispered into his ear sensually and seductively, her hot breath on his skin making him tingly as she caressed the crotch of his boxer shorts. Erotically biting her lip as she felt the raw size contained within.*”Mmm, you know on second thoughts, I think I have a better idea for how you can work and lay off your debts to me. One that I think is going to be much more fun for the both of us…..”*Emphasising her point as she slid her hand down the waistband of his spats, her palm and fingers now directly groping snd grasping his length and girth. Panting and gasping as she felt her arousal skyrocket at the idea of tastin snd feeling this slab of meat.*
Kirishima:”W-well, when you put it that way, can’t see a reason to say no….”*Hell given the choice between go knows how many days and weeks being a butler to cover the yacht’s repair costs vs indulging in Nami’s sudden sexual thirst? It was clear which was the better option as he turned his head to allow Nami to press her lips to his, their tongues dancing together with sloppy desire as the glamour model moaned wantonly. The sturdy stud moving to sit on the edge of the bed, their liplock breaking with a strand of saliva between them as Nami knelt on the floor and pulled down his boxers. Gasping with delight as his cock sprang forth, smacking and resting on her face as she breathed in his manly scent.*
Nami couldn’t help but drool as lust flowed within her eyes, an erotic blush in her smiling face as she relished the sight and feel of such a slab of meat before her. Grasping it in her hands as she began to stroke and jerk him off, feeling it’s pulse as it grew erect with desire and proceeded to plant licks and kisses from top to base. Sucking, kissing and licking his balls before commencing with fellatio as she outright suffocated herself on his shaft as her chestnut eyes looked up at her newfound sex friend with devotion and delight. His groans and gasps of pleasure music to her ears before she popped her mouth off of his length and girth, giggling at the adorable pout he made finding his drool soaked cock deprived of her oral pleasure.
Only for her to proceed to ambush him with her personal patented “Happiness Punch” as she unclamped her swimsuit top snd undid the binding strings of her thong, letting them fall off as she took delight in his reaction. A gobsmacked reaction that contrasted with his twitching, pulsing lubed up cock as the tangerine haired hottie gave a sultry moan and licked her lips while cupping snd jiggling her magnificent titties in her hands. Which she followed through with sandwiching his shaft between those twin mounds as she began to trope and jerk him off with a marshmallow massage as she gave him a titfuck. Licking, kissing and sucking what was exposed from the valley of her glorious cleavage as he pumped and thrusted his hips out of instinct and reflect as her tongue’s tastebuds were dazzled by the taste of his flowing pre.
Nami had thought things were going well so far but the next thing she knew, it was getting even better as she suddenly found herself on the bed, head and shoulders on the mattress as she clutched the bedsheets for dear life. Her deepthroated moans echoing through the room as Kirishima her torso at a 90 degree angle, her legs spread as Kirishima had returned the favour for her blowjob titfuck combo by eating her out as his tongue plunged snd probed the moist folds of her snatch. Drinking up the flow of her nectar as he showed he was as good at giving back what he got, setting Nami’s nerves ablaze with spine tingling, mind numbing pleasure and ecstasy before he suddenly ambushed by penetrating her with his length and girth. Her vision flashing white as she was hit with an intense orgasm from the sudden invasion, inches of womb hammering, pussy stretching meat sinking in until he has bottomed out balls deep.
It was then and then Nami found her world being rocked as Kirishima proceeded to fuck her in a piledriver position, working her like some erotic butter churn as he aimed to work off his debts to her. Howling and crying with sexual abandon and delight at how good this this modern day caveman was fucking her as he soon shifted her body into a mating press, pushing her legs until her ankles were in either side of her head while her arms draping around his powerful shoulders as her tits pressed snd rubbed against his firm pecs as their tongues dancing together in a sloppy open air dance. Hearts flowing in her eyes as orgasms rocked her body one after another, her stomach bulging from his length and girth as her womb pulsed with the growing need to receive his seed and have him knock her up with his babies. Her brain’s inner voice chanting to get pregnant, toes curling at the idea of this himbo making her go on maternity leave as those heavy balls smacked and slapped her jiggling asscheeks like thunder.
How she loved every second of it, the raw, primal mind numbing spine tingling pleasure as this absolute unit of an alpha male lived out the sexual fantasies and wet dreams of most when it came to Nami. Pink glowing hearts in her her eyes as she currently found herself pinned up against the wall, arms and kegs draped around Kirishima’s muscular tank of a body. His cock jackhammering away into her snatch’s inviting warmth as a growing puddle of juices rained down on the floor, deepthroated moans pouring forth from her luscious dicksucking lips as she felt him blow his load finally. Hot, white baby batter flowing into her womb as her brain registered with delight at the fact that Kirishima hasn’t started going soft and limp, his cock as stiff and erect as it was when they started meaning their fun wasn’t anywhere close to finishing.
Nami:”Aaahn! So good, harder!! Don’t stop fucking me you sexy himbo!”*The tangerine haired hottie hollered and cheered on as she currently rode Kirishima cowgirl style, her face wearing an expression of what could only be called a bitch in heat as she relished his gaze in her bouncing tits. His hands shifting between groping them, squeezing her juicy ass or just showering her body with sensual affection.*”Aaahn, you’ve cum 3 times already and haven’t pulled out once!! Keep it up!! Make me have to go on maternity leave with your hero baby!!”*Such lewd remarks came forth from her mouth as the sturdy stud not only worked off his debts but wound up winning Nami’s heart and body. Which only made her want him to fuck her all the more.*
The bombshell and her newfound sex friend couldn’t help but lose track of time, minutes passing into hours as Nami experienced first had the depth and level of Kirishima’s sexual skills and experience. Every variety of position snd relentless orgasm strengthening the growing bind of intimacy between them as the tangerine maned minx found herself developing a few favourite positions. From the raw primal bliss of getting plowed doggy style to the closeness of a seated lotus as their bodies glistened with the sheen perspiration. The sheets stained with their juices, the bed trashed which Nami just added to her sex machine’s tab as they kept fucking until the need to rest and sleep finally took them.
There Nami laid atop Kirishima’s sculpted form, purring as she nuzzled him while feeling safe in his strong arms. Basking in the afterglow as his semi-sated cock rested between her thighs, his excess seed flowing from her creampied pussy, dreaming sweet, erotic dreams of further rutting with this man. After such a bout of passion like that, Kirishima hadn’t just made strides in working off his debts. Oh no, Nami felt this fine fellow had earned himself a very special reward, one she was going to offer soon as the chance presented itself…..after another couple of rounds of course.
A few days to weeks after this newfound snd forged erotic friendship, Nami surprised a few select premium fans of hers with a sudden stream. Showing off her newly repaired, renovated and refurbished yacht as a chink of its price ahd come out of the pockets of the crook Kirishima had caught, all the while she performed this tour in another sexy swimsuit. A mischievous catlike grin on her face as she came to her hot tub, showing that she wasn’t alone as the camera showed Kirishima in the hot, steamy bubbling water with none other than Mina and Maya, the bubblegum coloured duo rocking sexy swimwear of their own as they were making out with their boyfriend. Yes indeed, Nami had come to learn about Kirishima’s unique little relationship with the acid maker and the shapeshifter, who were more than eager and happy to bring her into their personal circle of intimacy.
Just when Nami thought her newly made bond with Kirishima couldn’t get any better, the fact that he was such a beast in bed that he couldn’t be just a one woman man sweetened the pot. So of course where she was celebrating her one month anniversary in her new relationship by showing off her shared stud to her fans as she shot a wink and blew a kiss at the camera. Placing her phone close by so it could get a good view of the show as she graced the hot tub with her thicc, sexy self, straddling Kirishima’s lap as she added her own lips and tongue to mark the three way kiss a foursome. Upping the intimacy as the 3 bombshells removed their bikini tops, flashing their big juicy tits to their alpha male as Nami’s stream began making record number views and donation tips, especially from her simps…including s certain grape-head who yet again cursed the chivalrous himbo for his luck with women, the lucky bastard!!
#sketchfan#sketchfanda#sketchfan85#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#one piece#one piece anime#one piece manga#nami#cat burglar nami#one piece nami#op nami#eijirou kirishima#kirishima eijiro#kiriashi#eijiro kirishima#kirimina#kirishima#kirishima smut#kirishima eijirou#mina ashido#ashido#darkereve#darwin núñez#darwin nunez#maya diva#maya divato#jagua tales#Naruho#utility pole spirit
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Seductively Destructive, Chapter 1
Summary: Loki returns to his hometown with his band, The Emerald Snakes, who are doing rather well for themselves. There, one of their biggest fans, Erin, not only gets to see them play their hometown gig, but she gets an invite to the after party too from non-other than the frontman himself. She can’t quite believe it when she ends up becoming one of the most envied girls in the world when she becomes Loki’s girlfriend. But she sees him through rose-coloured glasses and it’s not an easy ride for Erin as she knows he’s got a darkness in him, but she just can’t seem to pull herself away.
WARNINGS FOR FIC: HIGHLY DUB CON, manipulation, slight drug use, forced tattoo, alcohol, dark Loki. She knows Loki is bad news but can’t stop.
-
Erin woke up to Loki’s arms wrapped around her naked body. Her heart started racing instantly at the thought of what happened last night. Her body was achey, a clear reminder of it too.
But when she suddenly felt the motion of movement, her eyes widened in panic. The tour bus they were on, it was moving!
She squirmed out of Loki’s arms and sat up at the side of the bed, reaching over Loki she peeled the curtain back slightly to see the sight of other cars going the opposite way down the motorway.
‘No! No, no, no! This can’t be happening.’ She panicked.
‘What’s wrong, doll?’ Loki asked sleepily as he slipped an arm around her middle and tried to pull her back down on the bed.
‘You said the bus wasn’t leaving till afternoon!’ She screeched at him and tried pulling away.
‘Oh… I must’ve been mistaken.’ He said nonchalantly as he managed to wrestle her back down next to him, easily keeping her in place with a strong arm. ‘No need to be alarmed, nothing can be done anyway. We can’t stop on the motorway.’ He purred and nuzzled her neck.
‘Loki… I need to get home.’ She whined.
‘There will be a train or bus station at the next city.’ Loki said as his left hand started wandering down her body.
‘I can’t… I can’t afford that.’ She whined and tried grabbing his hand to stop him. ‘Please… don’t… I’m sore after last night.’
‘Ohh my poor baby. Relax, this will make you feel much better again. And if you can’t afford to get home, well, I guess it means you’ll just need to stay with me while we finish the tour.’ He grinned against her neck devilishly as his hand slipped down between her thighs, but she had them clamped tightly shut so he couldn’t do much down there as his hand just managed to squeeze between.
Erin tried not to panic as the realisation that she was stuck with Loki and the band for nearly two months hit her… She had no money to get home herself, and clearly he wasn’t going to offer to pay. Even though he could afford to. There were still loads of cities left on the tour.
‘Come on, open your legs more for me like a good little girl.’ He nipped on her neck, making her whine.
Her mind battled with her body for a moment, then she eventually let them fall apart. Earning praise and little nibbles on her neck from Loki as he began playing with her sore and tired body.
-
Two Weeks Earlier
‘Oh no, you’ve got your war paint on.’ Jane face-palmed as Erin came out of her room with some dark heavy make-up on.
‘Stop calling it that! It’s gig night, where we can be free and look as we want to. I can’t wait.’ Erin said as she bounced about excitedly.
Jane just smiled. She knew how much tonight’s gig meant to her best friend.
Erin had been a fan of The Emerald Snakes for years, but she’d never been able to afford tickets to go see them. Her job was very low pay, she barely managed to get by with her rent and utility bills. But she had saved up super hard for tonight’s show since she heard they were coming to town.
It was their hometown, too. So it was going to be a really special night. They weren’t at the point yet of selling out arenas, but Erin had a feeling they weren’t going to be too far away from that. She remembered when she was in primary school and everyone was raving about them in their beginning days, when they just played in their parents’ garage. Before doing some gigs in the local pub most weekends, then getting noticed and slowly working their way up.
The town had always been supportive of the band. Even if some of the residents weren’t a big fan of rock or metal music, they still supported the band. There was of course the odd person who thought them as devil music and didn’t support them at all, but that was a very small percentage of the people.
As soon as Erin was old enough to appreciate music properly, she fell in love with the band. Especially the singer, Loki. He was hot as hell and like a lot of people did, she had a huge crush on him. Her friend and flat mate, Jane, was a few years older than her and Jane remembered Loki when he was in secondary school. Typical bad boy that all the girls fawned over, but he had a sweet side too. He’d always been interested in music, getting straight A’s in all music subjects, but not so great grades in other subjects.
The band was currently just starting their tour for their newest album, it was their fourth one they’d released so far and was a huge hit. They just kept getting better. The third stop on the tour was their hometown, the whole town had been buzzing with excitement for over a week.
Erin had managed to talk Jane into going down early to queue so they’d get a good spot. So they both headed to the venue a few hours before doors. They were surprised to find quite a queue already, some people had been there since early morning to get to the barrier.
As time passed by and it got closer to doors opening, Erin’s excitement grew and grew. Her stomach was in knots she was that excited. When they finally got to head inside, she was bouncing with anticipation.
‘Not a bad spot.’ Jane said to Erin when they got the barrier at the side. ‘At least we won’t need to worry about crowd surfers here.’
‘And I’ll have the perfect view of Loki without looking over other people’s heads.’ Erin laughed.
While she was crushing hard on Loki and couldn’t wait to see him live in the flesh, she loved their music so much and appreciated the whole band. That’s why she was here, to enjoy it. And she was so excited to just let loose and rock out.
The support band that was on first was pretty good, Erin took a mental note of their name to check them out some more tomorrow. There was a second support band that wasn’t as good, she thought. But they got the crowd hyped up enough.
Finally though, it was time for The Emerald Snakes. The lights went down and the screams got louder as the music started, building everyone up for the moment that the band walked on stage.
When the lights on stage came up, revealing the whole band everyone went mad. Their stage presence was something else, they were known for interacting well with fans too, having some fun.
Erin let her eyes linger on Loki while she sang along with her hands thrown up in the air. His shoulder length black hair looked a little greasy as she had seen before in live videos. He wore tight black jeans with black boots, a slightly torn loose black shirt and some tattoos were showing on his arms. He had a big black snake tattoo with some emerald green highlights through it that started from its tail on his upper arm and winded down around his forearm and ended with its head on the back of his hand. Though that was hidden as he wore leather gloves on stage.
His stage presence was dominating, Erin found she was unable to take her eyes off him. He bounced around full of energy, his face beaming with pride and happiness at the crowd singing back his lyrics.
Loki looked out over the crowd that was screaming and singing along, everyone jumping and moshing. Some people were crowd surfing down to the front, having the time of their lives. He scanned faces, recognising some old friends and acquaintances that he hadn’t seen in a long time. Then he looked along the front row and his gaze lingered longer on one girl that was off to the side slightly, she had long black hair with a thick strip of bright pink through it at the side. She was singing along to every single song, not missing a beat. Head banging and enjoying herself as much as the others. But Loki felt something within him stir at the way her cheeks turned red from being under his gaze.
Erin felt like time had stopped when Loki looked directly at her, and when he winked at her with a smirk, she thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest.
Jane nudged Erin with her elbow, laughing at the way she was so frazzled just from a wink and a look.
During the show, Erin got plenty of looks and attention from Loki. But before the encore he went down the front to the barrier, and stood up on the ledge at the other side to lean into the crowd, letting some people sing into his mic and letting them grab at him. Grabbing some hands and often he’d kiss some girls on the cheek to get them screaming. He knew how lusted after he was and often used it to his advantage.
He made sure to climb up on the barrier where Erin was, when he towered over the top of her, she thought she was going to combust. He looked down at her and sang directly to her for a while, looking intently into her eyes. Though he didn’t move over the top of her to reach at people behind her like he usually did. But he gave her another wink before trailing a leather clad finger down the side of her face and under her chin, making her knees shake as he stepped down and went back on stage.
‘He’s so flirting with you.’ Jane whispered before the next song came on.
‘That’s just what he does.’ Erin laughed slightly nervously. It was exciting having his attention but she knew it meant nothing really. He was known for being a bit of a womaniser, being flirty and seductive.
During the last song, Loki always threw roses out into the crowd. The first one, he went to the side of the stage where Erin was and he threw one straight to her. She was delighted at getting one, she had always wanted one to press and frame, a keepsake from the gig alongside her ticket.
When the band all bowed at the end and thanked the crowd, the bass player threw some picks out into the crowd and Jane caught one, she gave it to Erin though as knew how much she’d love it.
The drummer also threw his drumsticks out as well for some lucky fan to catch.
Erin was on a complete high after the show, she couldn’t stop smiling and talking about her favourite parts. Jane had enjoyed it too and was on a high as well.
‘Why don’t we go see if we can meet them?’ Jane suggested as she pointed towards where the tour buses were at the side of the venue.
‘Really?’ Erin’s eyes widened.
‘Yeah, come on. You can thank Loki for the rose.’ Jane winked at her, making her laugh.
‘It would be nice to meet them. They put on such a great show!’ Erin said chirpily as they headed towards the buses.
There was a small group of people that were there waiting to get a chance to meet them. A small barrier had been erected around the bus area, to keep everyone at a distance from getting in the way of the crew packing up.
Erin and Jane waited patiently at the end of the barrier. When the band came out, it was the whole band apart from Loki that appeared first. The three of them were happy to talk to their fans and take pictures, sign tickets or anything else fans had. Erin was really excited to get her ticket signed by them all, and thanked them for a great gig.
Then there was a small screech from a few people in the crowd when Loki came out. He waved at them all and made his way over. He glanced down the crowd and spotted Erin, he gave her a wink before seeing to the others first and making his way down the barrier.
‘He is so into you.’ Jane whispered.
‘Shut up. He is not.’ Erin hissed back and nudged her.
Though as Loki got closer, Erin got more nervous. What if she made a fool of herself? She mentally slapped herself. That was ridiculous, he was still just a human too… All she had to do was say thank you and ask if he would sign her ticket. Surely, she could manage that.
‘Our turn.’ Jane said excitedly when Loki finished with the couple next to them.
‘Why hello there. Nice to meet you, I’m Loki.’ Loki said charmingly as he put his hand out towards Erin.
‘Hi! I’m Erin.’ She squeaked and put her hand into his. Loki surprised her by bringing her hand up for him to kiss the back of it.
‘Lovely to meet you, Erin.’ Her name rolled off his tongue, making her melt all over again.
‘The show was amazing, I’m such a big fan and have been for years! The new album is really great I’ve been playing it non-stop. Would you mind singing my ticket?’ Erin blurted out nervously.
Loki smiled warmly, sensing how nervous she was. ‘That’s very kind of you, thank you, darling. Of course I will.’ He happily signed her ticket for her.
‘Now, you look familiar somehow.’ Loki said as he pointed his pen towards Jane as he handed Erin’s ticket back to her.
Jane laughed and nodded. ‘We went to the same school. I was in first year when you were in your final year. So you probably recognise my face from passing in the corridors or something.’
‘Ah, that would make sense.’ Loki chuckled and then took her ticket too that she held out to him.
‘What are you lovely ladies planning to do now?’ He asked while he signed Jane’s ticket, though he glanced up at Erin.
‘Uhm, just heading home.’ Erin stammered.
Loki handed Jane back her ticket. ‘So early?’ He chuckled. ‘Why don’t you both come along to our after party, it’s being held at the Sea View Inn. Invite only, so it won’t be filled with the typical rowdy local drunks.’
Erin looked at Jane and they both smiled. ‘Yeah, sure. That would be great!’ Erin beamed.
‘Excellent. I’ll make sure your names are on the list at the door. See you there soon.’ He grinned widely as he took a few steps back, looking at Erin again rather intently and slightly licking his lower lip. Then he headed off into the tour bus to get changed.
Erin and Jane looked at each other, slightly stunned.
‘I guess we’re having a later night than we thought!’ Erin squealed.
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don't usually share this sort of stuff on here but the reason patreon matters to me so much is stuff like this
6/7 videos this month are demonetised. specifically limited ads, not no ads, but what that means for me is where i would earn $1 on a fully monetised video, i am now earning $0.10 on a limited ads video.
there's no reason they should be demonetised. it's a bot that flags them and yes i can manually file a counterclaim but i'm scared of youtube's reaction and scared of what happens if they double down.
i've even had some videos in the past be monetised, then demonetised after days or weeks. some videos demonetised and then re-monetised without me filing a counter-claim or changing anything, as if youtube realised it's mistake.
my most viewed video is "ASMR | Visiting King Wants Your Hand, Not Your Sisters [M4M] [Romantic]" currently at 95,100~ views (thank you guys so much for that). that's a nice chunk of income right if i'm earning $1-2 dollars per thousand views? well, it would have been. once the video was up and reached 1k views it got 'limited ads' placed on it and stayed that way until random when it was at around 50k views it got re-monetised. i'd changed nothing in the video or description or title, i'd not filed a counter-claim. youtube's bot just somehow realised it's mistake. so, they are admitting they were wrong to demonetise it. that's nice. so do i get the money for the 49k views i should have been paid for? of course not.
anyway this post isn't to 'woe is me' (though youtube's system for flagging is broken and it really doesn't like asmr creators, i've seen other asmr creators talk about videos getting demonetised a lot). i've had videos demonetised before, but never this many in a month. in the past at most it's been maybe half of one month's videos demonetised, never almost all. and january 2024 had 0 videos demonetised. but wow. this month youtube doesn't like me. and i don't know how long this will continue.
so as much as i am upset and frustrated and trying to save all my money to move into a better living situation (you know it's bad when your doctor presses you about why you're having physical health issues due to stress and you let some details slip and they go "oh shit, well there's no point in prescribing you meds when you're getting triggered at home, you need to focus on moving out of there" and i'm like i am i really am but my apartment application got rejected) but uh... sorry what was my point?
oh right. as much as i'm upset and yes this isn't helping with my current situation, i want to say thank you to my patreon members, you guys aren't just giving me some extra little money you are literally allowing me to live. i'm making enough money that i can afford to look at renting places, and i never was able to afford that before making these audios. so regardless of what youtube does, thank you patrons, i could not be any more grateful to you all, and let's hope a landlord accepts one of my applications and i get out of this stinky house soon.
#i get so caught up in updating you guys on discord and when im live on twitch i forget i want to keep you up to date here too#for anyone whos not in the patreon discord and isnt interested in livestreams or cant make it for timezones reasons#the vampire vents#the vampire rambles
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vent post, .. putting it under readmore cus its long.
sooo yeah, basically, idk waht to do with my life, and i feel like a burden in the sense that i cant provide for myself rn. i never talk about my living situation but i am almost 29 yrs old, unemployed and having to be supported by my friends cus my family is too poor to help me in any way. like i have to live with my friend���s parents which somehow feels even more pathetic than living w my own parents.. i mean ofc i am very grateful to them for helping me but the guilt racks up more n more each day. when i was 14 my mom told me, ok you’re old enough to work now so you have to get a job if you want literally anything for yourself that isn’t the bare essentials. u want anything other than canned soup for dinner? thats on u. so i got a job, at 14!!! i think back now and im like what the fuck. i was a child... but alas. i worked and worked, i was almost never unemployed my whole life after age 14, except for during 2020 pandemic, and these past few months.
work, work, work, i worked so many piece of shit jobs, i never went to school or anything, there were a few good jobs here n there but they’d always end up getting sabotaged by one of my bipolar episodes. a lot of times, when i was rly desperate, i wld resort to escorting, which i just fucking hated and have been put in a lot of compromising situations and ugh. yeah, what im GETTING at is, ive literally never had security in my life, ive never had resources, the past 15 or so years have been lived in survival mode, and 6 months ago i finally fucking crashed and burned. like, no, i fucking refuse to work anymore, im suicidal all the time, ive never been able to heal from anything that’s happend to me, i dont care if i die broke and alone, i just cant work these demeaning ass jobs anymore. im very grateful to my friedns who have been helping me not die since then, i try rly hard to live frugally, i only eat what i rly need, rarely treat myslef, etc etc.
but now its like, where do i go from here? i know i need to start thinking about generating income again and it makes me so fucking sick. all i can rly do is commissions, but i hate putting a price on art, its only fun to me when im doing it for free. i dont want it to stop being fun. i dont want it to be about money. im scared to try i guess. i definitely dont want to work another stupid job but i also just sit in the house all day and it feels unhealthy. i dont want to meet people, i dont want coworkers, hate putting myself out there cus i cant relate to anyone. hate watching them in real time slowly realize that theres something seriously wrong with me, its embarrassing. i just need something to do.. i dont have a car or anything, i dont even know how to drive because i always figured id be too poor to afford a car. and so far ive been correct about that.
i guess this post is pretty embarrassing too but oh well.. i figure at least on here some ppl can relate.. like fuck i cant even get a therapist to respond to me. everyone just keeps begging me to get therapy as if it will save me. im really lonely w all my feelings and memories. i feel like im in purgatory and all i can do is keep drawing pictures for ppl to enjoy and trying to post things that are uplifting so i can at least make someone elses day a little brighter. but i wish i had a plan or an answer or a real goal. i reallty really really want to be nothing.
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Fuck DWP and the benefits system. It’s so ducked up. Can’t have more than £6000 in savings or my benefits start to go down, so how am I ever supposed to save for anything? This includes having an ISA where the money can only be used to buy a house or for retirement.
I mean, I get they can only do so much and stuff, but the way everything is laid out is just so fucked up. It takes forever to even get benefits and a lot of people who need the give up trying to get them because it’s so damn difficult and there’s so many hoops to jump through.
I want to start my own business to try and earn a little so I don’t have to completely rely on benefits, but apparently the business account amount also counts towards my savings, which is ridiculous to me because it’s not my money, it’s the companies money. Sure, I own the company, but the money in that business account would purely be for reinvesting in the business, for buying more stock and materials. If the money were to be transferred to my personal account then it’d be mine, cause it’d be my wages, not that it would even be much. I just think it’s stupid.
Then there’s the fact that when I’m able to move in with my boyfriend, I don’t get treated as a separate person. It won’t be my savings only that affect my benefits, it’ll be our savings so I probably won’t get anything at all, which is insane because I can’t expect my boyfriend to pay for absolutely everything, all by himself. I need to be able to split the bills, especially since the majority of power used will be used by me since I’m always home. I need to be able to help pay for the food we eat and for my own stuff like my toiletries and any kind of entertainment I use to get me through the day so I’m not mindlessly staring out the window depressed all day because I can’t work. I can understand they want to take your partners earnings into account, but I should still be treated as an individual person. Sure, if I were to move in with a millionaire, done give me benefits, because as much as I’d like to be able to pay my own way with stuff it would be ridiculous to claim benefits while being with someone rich who can afford to pay for everything, even if you should be able to pull your own weight, which you would be doing if you were able to work properly. Unfortunately my boyfriend is not a millionaire (though I wouldn’t change a thing, I love him to pieces), and therefore will not be able to pay for everything all by himself. If I don’t get any benefits and I struggle running my own business, either in terms of sales or I’m terms of energy to keep it running in order to make anything to sell, then I’m stuck with nothing coming in and having to rely solely on my boyfriend, and that’s so unfair.
We need to be able to save for a house so we can live together. We need to be able to have savings in case anything goes wrong, like the boiler breaks or we have to pay for something in an emergency. We need to be able to pay for food, to pay the bills, to pay for the car for getting around, to pay for insurance etc. There’s so much stuff you have to pay for, and to have two people relying on one income that is only suitable for one person isn’t right.
Sorry, rant over, I just had to complain somewhere. Money is stressing me out and I’m worrying about the future and how we’ll manage everything. I want to enjoy the now but I’m just so stressed about the future and trying to plan things out it’s just not going that way at the moment. Fingers crossed my health improves and I can either get a normal job again or I can have enough energy to make my business a success and actually earn decent money to contribute to everything we want to pay for in the future.
Wishing everyone well and hoping things improve for everyone asap, especially for people struggling with their health, money, any struggles they’re currently facing tbh. I wish the world were a better place.
#disability benefits#benefits#benefits system#uk benefits#dwp#department for work and pensions#life sucks#money troubles#stressed#worried#worried about money#future
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Part 11 of the Hostage series, princes and pirates and imprisonment, oh my.
Masterpost is here. Tagging: @redwingedwhump, @whump-cravings, @burtlederp, @quirkykayleetam, @annablogsposts, @redstainedsocks
“I don’t understand,” Jak said. “Don’t you want to go home?”
His face was creased in bafflement, his hands dangling off his knees as he sat in the chair.
Rill awkwardly smoothed a hand over the sheet beside him on the bed, futilely seeking order in the creases and folds of fabric. “It… isn’t that simple,” he said.
“Why not?”
“It… it just isn’t,” Rill said. He sat back, leaning against the wall, and covered his face with his hands for a moment. “Your uncle sent you in here to question me about it, didn’t he,” he said, mildly accusing.
“Oh, sure,” Jak agreed readily. “But that isn’t really why I’m asking.”
“I just don’t want to be ransomed.”
“Do you think your folks can’t afford it?” Jak dismissed that with a wave of a hand. “If so, talk to Tallow, it can be a token amount. More to save face than anything. Tallow would always rather get something than nothing.”
“It’s… it’s not that…”
Rill sighed heavily. He took his hands away from his face, but still did his utmost to avoid Jak’s eyes - Jak, who was now sitting across the room from him, worried and earnest and apparently content to sit there looking at Rill for as long as it took to get an answer out of him.
Guilt plucked uneasily at his nerves. Back when they were imprisoned together, Rill hadn’t really intended to lie to Jak. It had just been… easier not to broach the subject. And what had it mattered, anyway, when they were both likely to die soon?
But then they hadn’t died, and it had moved from being just an omission of irrelevant information to a lie. And that lie was keeping him safe, he couldn’t abandon it no matter how bad it felt to be lying to Jak, who had saved his life for no reason and didn’t seem to expect anything at all in return.
Jak was a friend to Rill the Nobody. Would he still be a friend to the Prince Consort?
Well, Rill didn’t really intend to find out. No matter how long Jak sat there, frowning with the force of his concern.
“It’s not an amount of money that’s the problem,” Rill said, trying to skirt the issue, talk about it without talking about it. “It’s more that… I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already have been. It’s just… better that I stay away.”
“What? Stay away?” Jak shook his head. “And leave them wondering where you are, whether you’re dead? How is that better for them? You just want to disappear out of their lives? That’s fucked up.”
“I’m not disappearing,” Rill said. “They knew where I was. They will assume the Empire killed me.”
Could they be partially right? he wondered. Could the Prince Consort be dead and just plain Rill crawl away from the shell? The prospect wasn’t... terrible.
“And that’s awful!” Jak protested. “When you could go home safe and be happy - ”
“I don’t think I do want to go home!” Rill burst out. “Jak, they left me there!” He could not stay sitting any more. He pushed up off the bed and lurched upright, turning his back to Jak. There was no room in here to pace, not with the both of them in here. He settled for clenching and loosening his fists as he spoke to the closed door, his voice uneven. “Look, I’m not saying they made a bad choice or the wrong choice, but they left me there to rot. Did Tallow tell you that? The Empire asked for more than I was worth, so they left me in the Empire’s hands knowing full well what was happening to me.”
Rill heard Jak shift behind him, but he didn’t want to turn around and see his face. Rill was breathing a little harder, his throat burning. His eyes, too, which wasn’t usual.
“How am I supposed to - how can I - ” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Jak, how are you supposed to go back home after that? They’re not going to understand. I don’t blame them. But I just…”
He trailed away. The sound of his breathing filled up the room for a few seconds.
“Well, you probably should,” Jak announced.
Rill turned, startled. “What?”
“Blame them! Gods, man!” Jak slapped a hand down on his thigh. “What do you mean, you don’t think they made a bad choice? If they could have saved you they should have! That’s family!”
Rill managed a smile, through his prickling eyes and the lump in his throat.
“Jak…”
“More than you were worth! Calling yourself a burden! Bah!” Jak leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands in a ‘what gives’ sort of gesture. “Rill, who talks to you like this? Getting you back safe from the Empire should have been worth any cost!”
“In, uh… the idea is right,” Rill said, unable to find the words in Castar for what he meant. “The idea, the theory, sure, a life is worth anything. But that’s not how it works in the real world.”
“Yeah, it is.” Jak folded his arms and looked mulish.
“Well, what about lots of lives?” Rill asked. “You’d trade lots of people for one person?”
Jak shook his head. “Not trade lives. Risk lives, maybe, it’s different.”
Rill sank back down to sit on the edge of his bed. “It isn’t, really,” he said. “I can be… er, what’s the word in Castar for ‘objective’? No?”
Jak shrugged, nonplussed.
“I can look at the big picture.” Rill coughed into his arm, wincing at the pain. “One life isn’t worth many. It was the right choice.” Why did I bring this up, he wondered. Why get all choked up about Tali leaving me, and then explain in great detail why she was right? Why does this hurt so much? I don’t know what’s going on in my own head, how can I expect anybody else to?
“Look, I don’t see how this changes things,” Jak said after a moment. “OK, sure, you think they were right not to save you. You are wrong, but whatever. Why does that mean you can’t go home now? Uncle’s not going to ask to trade you for a dozen people.”
“No,” Rill agreed. “I suppose not.”
“So tell him who you are and go home!”
Rill bit his lip. He looked down at his hands, which were starting to heal up from all of the bruises and cuts he’d gained during his time in the army camp. He ran a thumb idly over a healing scab.
“Jak… what if they say no,” he whispered. “What if they still say no? They might not even entertain a negotiation.”
Rill was not sure he could take that.
“Do you really think that’ll happen?” Jak said, hushed and frowning.
Rill shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not… even before I was stupid enough to get myself captured, I wasn’t exactly the most useful to have around.”
He picked at the roughness on his skin, pulled it back to bleeding and watched the bead of bright red well up on his knuckle. Little merchant clerk, not good enough for the Queen’s hand. What use are you? A captain in uniform, very close by the Queen’s side. “Truthfully… they’ve probably replaced me already. It’d probably mess up a lot of people’s plans if I went back.”
After all, Rill being gone would solve a lot of political problems. Couldn’t be a lightning rod for political discontent if he died tragically, could he? And the new nobility would have no cause to complain. And Tali could finally get the kind of husband she’d always wanted.
“Who cares?” Jak demanded. “If I were you, I would take joy in messing those people’s plans up. They shouldn’t count you out so easily.” He leaned forward, making the chair creak under his weight, and pointed forcefully at Rill. “The more I hear out of you, Rill, the more I think maybe fuck your family. They’re not worth the name. You have to go back to make them eat their words! Be great and make them all regret valuing you so little.”
Rill rocked back, startled. The smile he found on his face tugged unexpectedly at a scab on his lip. “That’s what you’d do?”
“Absolutely,” Jak said firmly.
“Well, I’m not you, Jak,” Rill said. Which was unfortunate - if Rill had been more like Jak, the court would probably have liked him more from the start anyway. “I don’t think that would work for me. But thank you.”
Jak subsided, looking a little deflated. “You’re still not going to tell us, huh?”
“No,” Rill said. “I’m not.”
“If we asked and they did say no, Rill, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” Jak said. “I don’t really think Tallow would go through with killing you. He already likes you more than most Mainlanders.”
“I don’t think that’s true…” Except insofar as you all seem to hate us as default…
“We would figure out… something,” Jak continued. “Some other way to get the money, maybe, or some way you can work and still stay here. The ships pick up a crew member from one of the safe ports, sometimes - not often, but it happens, Skyle told me about it.”
Rill smiled sadly. Or, Tallow will contact the Empire and let them know he has a bigger prize than he thought. I highly doubt I’m going to be welcome as crew on a pirate ship, as funny as Tali and the council would probably find that.
“No,” he said aloud. “I’m sorry, Jak, but I’ve made up my mind. I’m not being ransomed. I’m not going home.”
And whatever happens will just have to happen.
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Hi Jenn,
I’ve been writing and illustrating published books for couple of decades, and while I’ve been happy with how my career is progressing (bigger publishers now, more frequent contracts, royalties!), I’ve never been able to make a living wage as an author-illustrator. Some part of me wants to believe I still have it in me to be financially successful as a writer-artist but it’s hard after so long. So I’ve been interviewing for a full-time art teacher job which would pay somewhat well (better than the $20K I made last year!) and provide benefits. I’m afraid, though, that I won’t have time to make books anymore, or to really focus on my craft like I do now. Do any of your clients have full-time non-writing jobs and are still able to make books? I know this is such a case-by-case scenario but maybe you could shed some light on this subject. Some part of me is like “just hold out a little longer and you’ll make it over the hump! Keep throwing yourself into your book work and focus like a laser!” and another part of me says “you’re 45 years old with no savings!”
I hesitate to ever give, like, actual financial advice to strangers on here. Everyone's situation is different! So take this as more general thoughts, and if any of it resonates with you, great, and if not, ignore me. :-)
To address some of the not-actual-questions: Listen, a steady paycheck and benefits is nothing to sneeze at. I don't know about you, but we are of a similar age, and I went from having Nothing Wrong with me to having Everything Wrong with me, health-wise, VERY suddenly. If I didn't have insurance, I'd be screwed. I don't have benefits at my job and luckily I can afford the $900+ a month it costs me to stay alive with private insurance, but if I was still on a bookseller's salary or something, I honestly don't know what I would do. So... if you are American and a good insurance plan is not something you currently have, that is an important thing to think about, IMO, as you (gracefully!) age.
Can you re-frame the problem into something positive? Instead of thinking of this as "a day job will stall my creative ambitions" -- perhaps a day job will actually PROP UP your creative ambitions?
Thought experiment: You take this job, and you like it. It's a challenge, but it also feels good to know you are having a positive impact, and perhaps your students even give you a boost of creativity. You do absolutely still work on your books, but now it's a couple hours in the morning or at night on weekdays, and one weekend day. You KNOW you have a paycheck coming and you don't have to rely on sporadic book income to get by, and you know that god forbid should you need it, you have decent insurance. Perhaps you are even able to get by entirely or mostly on job-money and put all or most of your book-money after taxes into savings to start building a nest-egg.
How does that make you feel? Does thinking about that bit of financial freedom and the idea of actually saving for the future relieve some stress? If you are less stressed and don't have to worry about hustling quite so hard at the book stuff -- might you actually feel able to take more risks with your artistic work and try things that you might have never felt you were in a position to experiment with before? If you KNOW you have limited time to work on your book stuff, are you the type of person who could buckle down and do it and make it work, or no? Does the idea of having having more of a strict schedule make you feel safe, or panicky?
I don't know the answers to these questions, obviously, but I do think they are worth considering. And of course: Nothing has to be forever. If you get the job and decide to try it and realize a semester in that it's not for you... for whatever reason! -- you can always stop!
To answer your actual question: I do rep illustrators who also teach or have other kinds of demanding full or part-time jobs and/or tiny children at home, or who work freelance doing things like animation jobs or magazine work or merchandise or other illustration-adjacent things that aren't strictly books. (Authors, too, of course!) Some of these folks are still quite prolific, and some not so much -- I have to think this is just up to their individual priorities and time management skills. Nobody is "like Kate Messner" of course, but for what it's worth, Kate did teach middle school full time and have school-age kids of her own when she signed with me, and still managed to write and publish and promote dozens of books before she quit teaching! So, yes, absolutely, it physically CAN be done, it just might mean a shift in your schedule and mindset. And that might or might not be right for YOU.
(My most recent podcast episode is with the lovely illustrator Cindy Derby, who has an infant -- we talk about how her time-management landscape has changed! And I have spoken to Kate on the pod before too. Maybe it would be helpful to give those eps a listen if you haven't?)
GOOD LUCK!
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As a fashion student how would you describe your style? And what are some of your favorite fashion looks that you always come back to admire?
Mmm okay you gave me a lot to discuss. So now you’re getting a detailed little mini fashion report I hope you enjoy <3
My Style: Lately I feel like my personal style has been largely influenced by a lot of vintage 1960s/70s trends. I feel as if that look will come to be a sort of lasting trend throughout the 2020s as a whole, which has to do with a lot of things. Push from sustainability movement has made people shop vintage a lot more, and 60s/70s were kind of the last era in American clothing before fast fashion and more polyester and tshirt styles really took over, so they’re going to be the most affordable/good condition thrift clothes to look for. It was also sort of the last era of masses still making their own clothes. Post-70s were when department stores really surged throughout the country. But a classic sort of 1960s shift dress (like the black one pictured) is a really fun, comfortable, and easy to make yourself design, since, it’s basically just a box lol. Even if you’re not very skilled at sewing, you could pretty easily take materials from an older dress and make it into a fun shift dress with a pattern.
Classics: Quality Jackets. I can never say it enough. You get so much more use out of them than any other item (besides shoes). There is absolutely nothing wrong with wearing the same jacket 5 days in a row! I think a good leather moto jacket, printed blazer, and either a solid peacoat or just a nice clean tan trench coat can instantly solidify a great wardrobe and go with pretty much anything you wear. (Honestly on days that I’m lazy and don’t want to really get dressed at all, I’ll wear tshirt/jeans or jean shorts, and just one of those three/fourish styles of jackets and instantly look put together and great). - the other big classic that I constantly recommend to people is to simply buy pants that aren’t jeans. Belted trousers are the comfiest long car ride pants I love them so much AND they look so much more professional than like, leggings or something. Corduroy pants or cigarette style pants are also really great and easily elevate any standard tshirt outfit. Love them, they never get old.
On the Outs: Pleather jackets and pants. Pleather really just, isn’t great in general. Yes, brands will tote it around as “Vegan” and promote it under a sustainability lens. But the reality is that for quality faux leathers (like what designers like Stella McCartney use) those are still going to be very expensive. And pleather is not quality. It’s extremely hard to maintain in the long term, and most pleather items land in dumpsters or resale after one season of wear. Save your money, skip it. Save up for real leather, find it second hand, or just skip it altogether.
Upcoming: Again with push from sustainability movements, brands seem much more interested in using deadstock fabrics, which we can do as consumers as well. The patchy/multi print blazer is something we saw on high fashion runways this year, as well as in a lot of street fashions. If the collar on a blazer you love is in disrepair, you can always mend it. Adding blocks or accents of other prints or colors will make it a more unique piece that’s really made just for you.
#anyways. that was super long and largely unnecessary but I have fun rambling about these things#I love your questions#I also think all the corset trend stuff needs to die but that’s for a whole different post or something I have a bone to pick with those#asks#fashion
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I know it's been one disaster after another since November, but here we are again.
The tooth thing that went wrong Tuesday that I thought was the usual bullshit turned out not to be. this meant no opioids for the surgical pain and thus at most two hours of super low quality sleep brought
So I went to the emergency dentist. It's bad. Apparently no one who does root canals takes medicare. I've no idea what it will cost as no one is open on Fridays. I left messages around. IDK. Given my lack of success with raising oven money, I doubt I can afford it.
I go back Tuesday before my surgical post surgical check and they will do what they can to save the tooth for now by trying to recap it. Odds are sixty forty on that. If I lose the bet I lose an essential middle molar I need for chewing on the more functional side of my mouth.
I injured myself rather badly trying to push the forage delivery box out of the way so I could leave the sofa. I will not know for a few days just how badly.
Now here's the real kicker. You know how I hate taking opioids because of that rare genetic thing that runs on my Mother's side of the family and the whole partially expressed gene thing that also triggers with anti-psychotics and at least some other psych meds? You know how I wanted off the oxy so bad I kept stretching between doses until I went into shock last Friday? And the whole switching to tramadol except for sleep Sunday and the barely taking tramadol mostly for sleep all week thing? Yeah, well the dentist was like you really need to take half an oxy so you can sleep. It'll be alright.
It is not. I've been getting weird little precursor warning sign things, like when I have a high fever, but nastier in tone. It was reminding me very much of the time they tried antidepressants for my post concussive syndrome, but it did nothing so they kept upping the dose and upping the dose until I had full spectrum hallucinations and paranoia? In that case I was rational and worked out pretty quick I was hallucinating and it was the anti-depressant.
So you know the thing that happened with my sensative to opiods relatives What does a hospital do when they have a violent person having an apparent psychotic break? They put them on anti-psychotics. What do anti-psychotics do to people with this rare ass genetic thing? Cause paranoia and hallucinations.
Yeah, so the half an oxy caused me to hallucinate today. It was only visual and I was rational, so that's good. It took about two hours for the blood level to drop enough to make it stop, but I'm super not enjoying the adrenaline surges and tachycardia.
I maybe managed about two hours of sleep later. At best. interrupted by what I think of as rotten orange dreams. This is a metaphor. This is how unpleasant sharp and vivid a rotting orange smells up close. Yeah. They aren't nightmares in the something scary sense, but fundamentally unpleasant in the something feels not right in my brain sense. They are the sort of dreams I get with a high fever, only the opioid version is nastier in flavor. it's hard to explain. so this was yet another impetus for taking as little oxy as I could get away with and just doing AS meds when I'm not trying to sleep most of this week, because even the tramadol has started giving me that kind of dream.
I suspect the issue here was that the last month before the operation it was incredibly hard to sleep without something to take the edge off the pain a little I was doing my in emergencies only three times a week and just making do with the very little sleep otherwise. (Normal, it's one or two tramadol at most in a month and only with things like, it hurts to much to move or U keep bursting into tears trying to make food because the pain is that bad or I'm being stabbed in the head headaches).
Add to this the post surgical meds and the oxy I had to take after for days to fend off shock and the tramadol I scaled down to as soon as I could begin to cope with the pain level and this is the most opioids I've allowed in my system since a botched surgery over a decade.
There are still two non-opioid techniques left in my quiver, but it is likely I will have to take a tramadol again between now and whenever it stops feeling like stabbing when I move in my sleep wrong, because Wednesday and Thursday night proved I can't yet get more than a couple hours of low quality sleep at best on just the AS meds. Long term insomnia also makes one hallucinate.
So I'm a mess. I'm going to be a mess for at least another week. links are backing up again, many of them urgent. Please be patient if I'm not up to the usual quality.
Not having a working oven is messing with my nutrition, but again being able to use that side of my mouth is worse. If you want to chip in towards the not covered my medicare denitistry:
If you would like to help: paypal.me/Gwydion
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