#smutish

Mark Grayson is a certifying pussy eater, his warm slick tongue running a lap over your already dripping folds, his hands holding your hips in place as they circle gentle motions, all while his own hips rubbed against the folds of your sheets for pleasure

"your such a good girl~" his hums and groans sending shivers down your spine, all while your hips chased his mouth, pussy soaking, oh god you were so close....

Mark Grayson who would watch as you squirm and squeeze his head as your back ached, toes curled and face flushed, nonsenses leaving your swollen lips unable to form any actual words

"Fuck your so wet..." his fingers playing with your hole as his tongue continued to suck the living hell out of you.

Mark Grayson who refused to stop even after your whimpers and pleases to stop and let you catch your breath, he wasn't moving , no way, not after he had been craving you all day, and especially not when he had you just where he's been wanting you, Right underneath him.

after the third time you would think he would have had his fill...right?

Nope

"Please, 'm sorry, just- please let me keep eating you out..."

michael, who enjoys whispering sweet everythin’s to you while in public, your lip being caught between your teeth tightly as you shifted in your seat uncomfortably, barely able to contain yourself or the flushed look on your face. one of michael’s friends eyes darting toward you in concern, “hey, you okay? you seem.. warmed up.” michaels hand tracing your thigh beneath the table as you both sat at a dinner, you’re just aching to move. michael, who had turned to tend another one of his friends turned back to you with a knowing grin on his face, you wanted to slap it off him so fast. “she’ll be fine, its just a bit heated in here.” —the cool air obviously filling the room, his friend stared for another beat then shrugged your expression off.

PAIRING: Jason Todd x female!reader

SUMMARY: After so long, Jason finds you, someone who understands him. Both of you fighting crime like you know best, guns blazing and knives drawn. But he feels guilty of not meeting you before. Being there to help you before. He asks to see your scars to see how many times you could have been unharmed by his hand but didn't.

TAGS: 17+ CONTENT | Mention of scars, nudity, angst and Fluff, smutish, Established Relationship, kissing, lots of kissing, breast kissing/licking,

W.C: 2.3k

AO3: Click here!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story and the title are inspired by 'On Your Side' by The Last Dinner Party. Also, this is my first time writing a Jason fic, so I try to make it close enough to the oc as I see fit it would be. If I made a mistake, I would like feedback. And also maybe the end was a little lacy, and I'm sorry for it, but, hope you like it!

content: fem!sylus don’t like don’t read, if you don’t like fem!lads then this isn’t the blog for you. sylus has big boobs like they’re so massive, sucking on her nipples for comfort/to sleep, this is just short and sweet, that’s it <3

wc: 725

yap: who likes boobies lads masterlist sylus masterlist

closing the door with a heavy sigh you make your way through your apartment, keys thrown into the bowl, shoes kicked off haphazardly, bag tossed onto the couch before it falls onto the floor with a soft thunk. waving a hand at it, your feet drag you to the kitchen, lazily pulling it up and eyes scanning for something.

you grab a half eaten sandwich -you vaguely remember leaving in there this morning- and close the fridge with a push of your hip. standing at the counter, you scarf down the sandwich, practically moaning at how good it tastes to your sleepy mind. the moonlight filters into the apartment, little beams of light leading you to your much needed happiness— your bed and girlfriend.

rounding into the room your heart stutters at the sight- sylus reclining against soft pillows, glasses low on her nose as her manicured fingers hold some well loved book.

she was wearing a tiny negligee, dark red in color and edges frilly. she looked like sin sat in your bed, smooth long legs exposed and muscles shifting slightly as she moved.

-🪼

the request is pretty much the summary. wrote this on the way to ice skating with gloves on so, if there’s typos, I apologize.

*the images above describe what I felt writing this btw I love dry humping idc*

He thought he got away with it. Him smiling and laughing with his friends, parading the flag around.

But he knew there was NO chance you would let that slide.

Connor regrets it, his hands tied, pants unbuckled, desperately bucking him into the air. whimpering like a fool.

“P-please baby” he whines, you grinding even harder at the sound of his begging.

Your hips move faster as your clothes cunt rubes against his shaft, your pussy already wet. Your hands pressing down on his lower abdomen as you moan.

“No.” You say, keeping a steady pace. “No, you can’t. This is your punishment.” You say, anger and hunger filling you voice.

“I’m sorry-“ he says before moaning again, the friction making the precum on his stick leak through his navy blue boxers.

You him as you get even faster, the friction from Connor’s hard dick making you groan and crave more.

But Connor wasn’t doing any better.

He had the hunger urge to rip the belt of of his wrists and pull if your little panties. To fuck you hard and rough.

But he quite literally didn’t have the energy.

So he had to sit there. Until you pushed him to the edge and he cummed in his pants.

“I’m sorr- fuck fuck fuck fuck” Connor whines, his underwear becoming sticky with cum and even drenching yours.

Mike wheeler X Y/N Harrington Fanfic. No, you’re not nerdy nor geeky. That’s too stereotypical for me.

Author’s speech: hello my baby girls. after days of waiting, you finally get the fanfic you’ve been wanted. Lowkey, this has some punctuation and grammar mistakes, but I’m not trying to hear all that in the comments section . There will be mentions of 80s slang so no y/n name is not Betty, Betty is a slang term. WARNING: this fanfic will have mentions of sex and sexual acts. If you don’t like that, you can get off. Also, I have not watched season five of Stranger Things and I’m not planning on watching season five of Stranger Things. So this is will be inaccurate, it will also have no mentions of the upside down or any of that boo-hoo ha ha shit. Enjoy. I’ll mention anything else in the comments.

Was it genetic to be as charismatic as a Harrington? Or were you both just teaching each other what you learned? Steve and you were the iconic duo of Hawkins, both curly fab brown hair with an intimate gaze that made the opposite sex fall to their knees in awe. Sure, your brother was an asshole, a womanizer at best with another girl hanging from his arm each given week, but you weren’t any better with guys. You viewed guys as placeholders, they’d come and they went! not like they’d do anything about it or had anything deemed irreplaceable by you. Once Steve graduated, you become the new monarch of Hawkins High School— Queen Y/N.

Your styles were different to say the least. Steve was serving the preppy 80s boy look with his Leatherman jacket and polo shirt back when he was your age, but you were different. Delayed to fashion on purpose, 70s galore painted on you like a groupie for the Rolling Stones; a catarrh brown jacket with a cold-tone, multiple color long sleeve under. Flared jeans with boots. And you can’t forget the long voluminous Harrington hair! You weren’t called the hair Harrington for nothing.  

You stood in the hallway, leaning back on the lockers as you talked to the group of girls that surrounded you.

“Why would he do that? She’s not even that pretty.” Emily huffed to Rodney, Alyssa nodding along with what Emily had said.

“She’s a butterface at best, like who does she think she is? Roaming around with your ex like that?” Rodney exclaimed, you looked at her with a knowing expression.

“Friendly fire, not like you’ve never walked around with someone’s ex.” She rolled her eyes at your statement, not bothered to deny the truth within it. You tapped your finger on your bicep, looking past her head to look at the group of guys passing by—the geek squad. Mike Wheeler center of the toothless one and tomboy pippi longstocking one. You never realized how attractive Mike was, his doe eyes looking almost innocent against those chiseled features. A slender girlish figure with shortish hair that you knew would look better long and ugh, that nose… you always liked guys with bigger noses.  

You watched his eyes catch yours, slowly grinning at him with narrowed eyes looking him up and down with a hand twirling a piece of your hair. His expression became flustered with a twitch in his hand, his eyes darting away from yours as he walked past the group. You watched him walk past, leaning forward to see him pass from behind your friend.

“You’re shameless,” scoffed Alyssa, causing you to turn back to them with crossed arms. You shrugged: “Audacity gets you results. You shouldn’t have learned that with your ex, lyssa." You Retorted, a snicker following suit by Rodney. She scoffed, crossing her arms and tossing some hair behind her head.  

“So! My ex list doesn’t exceed 20, like your hoe ass.” You snickered and looked at her squarely with a cruel expression: “Look who’s playing mother Teresa, as if she didn’t have a train run on her at last night's party. Get a grip, at least I have a roster to pick from and not my mommy's phone book.” You growled, pushing yourself off of the lockers and walking off. Followed by Rodney and Emily.

You sat in Science class, looking at the board carelessly as the teacher drilled on about some soundless theory you could give two fucks about. You looked away, noticing the frog-faced boy sitting right in front of you. Ironic, huh? With a grin, you leaned over your desk slowly.

“You’re actually into this bullshit.” you lowly whispered in his ear, looking ahead to not arouse suspicion. Mike stiffened, his hand stopping dead in his track, his heart pounding out of his chest with a Bob in his Adam’s Apple.  

“Why should I know how to tell a chemical reaction is a combustion? It seems so… senseless, huh?” You whispered with a smile, glancing to the side to view his face. You felt his breathing quickening, causing you to grin more with an eye roll, looking down at his notes.

“As a senior, I expected you to almost forget about work… let alone notes.” You leaned over, your feet in your desk chair moving his pencil out the way. “Can you move?” He sneered, grabbing his paper, you tilted your head forwards to glance back at him before rolling your eyes with a grimace. Sitting back down fully in your chair, putting your foot on the back of his desk chair.

Lucas waited outside the classroom after class, siding with Mike as they walked to his locker. “I didn’t know you and y/n were cool like that.” He looked over his shoulder to see you in a gaggle of cheerleaders and the popular kids, smiling but still eyeing Mike.

“Looks like she wants a piece of you,” Lucas teased, turning back to Mike’s pink blushed expression. He leaned back in the locker beside Mike's, a Laissez-faire expression with his ankles crossed over. “She does that with every guy…” he muttered, opening his locker and placing the lock inside the hole, his heart pounding out of his chest.

“And each guy she has, she’s fucked.” A cough escaped from Mike’s mouth, doubling over a bit of shock. “You know it’s true. And that look tells me she’s found her next prey.” He nodded over, looking back at Mike. Mike looked pensive, rubbing his lips together while touching his elbow with arms crossed. He shook his head subtly, looking at Lucas. “No man, you know I’m in a relationship with El.”

“Yeah, but you’re taking a break right now, don’t you remember?” Mike stiffed, looking back at Lucas with a conflicted expression. “You’re the one to talk, you’re in a relationship with Max.” He placed his hands on Mike’s chest. “This isn’t about me and Max! This is about you and Betty over there, and if I were you I’d follow through with her just for a week.” Nudging over to where you were, the girls talking to each other. Mike was deep in thought, turning back to his locker. Placing his things back inside.

He slammed his locker closed. There you stood behind his locker door, leaning your head against the locker beside it. “You talking about me with your friends already? I’m touched.” You softly told him with a teasing smile. He jolted. Not expecting you out of all people, he grimaced at you despite the pulse in his lungs growing thunderously.  

“What do you want, Y/n?” “You know what I want, Mike. I’m just waiting for you to realize it too.” You snapped back, slowly fluttering your lashes with a lick in your lips. His expression darkened, tightening his fists. “You don’t know anything.” He growled with forced anger. You looked him up and down, tilting your head with an eyebrow raised. “Looks like you don’t either…” He stopped, jerking back subtly at the observation you made. His eyes darted downwards, putting the lock back into his locker hole.

“Addy is having a party. Usually, some guys will beat and rob you for even stepping foot there, but I can get you in. Maybe even your friends too.” You proposed, leaning down to keep eye contact with him, arms crossed with a cocky expression. Already knowing his response.

He scoffed and looked back at you, yanking the lock to check before turning away. Walking off without another word. “Don’t keep me waiting, Micheal.” You yelled, waving with the scene of him reconnecting with his group. Max looked at Mike with worry, furrowed eyebrows with eyes that glanced from him to you “Do you know her, Mike?” She asked with a curious expression. Mike shook his head, stalking towards the classroom doors silently.

“Mike Wheeler was tempted by a Naiad,” Lucas joked. Dustin gasped and pointed at Lucas' mouth ajar in a dimpled smile. “Yes!!! She’d be a Naiad!! The mighty Paladin was tempted by the seductive Naiad.” He geeked out at them, a smile of pure glee at the mention of his favorite game, D&D. “Y/N L/N, level Five Naiad with her charisma through the roof! We HAVE to get her to play.–"

“No! Right now. I — I don’t even want to hear her name.” Mike snapped, annoyed at the thoughts racing through his head. The words that Lucas spoke to him, the rumors circulating in the gossip mill, the look of his eyes staring into his like he was the only thing that mattered at the moment— it was too much!!! He forced his focus back onto his own girlfriend. Though they were in a rough patch currently, he couldn’t do that to her…. But the thumping in his gut told him differently, the feeling of a damn waiting to burst told him he wasn’t so convincing to himself.

You fanned yourself with your manicured hands, the cheerleader uniform that appeared shorter, barely letting the breeze pass through it. “Jesus, H Christ. You’d think the devil is blowing on me like a porn tape! Where the fuck is that water boy!!?” You yelled in annoyance, turning your head to look at your teammates who were sweating on the floor.

“How long does it take to get some damn water? That butt fucker better not be goofing off.” You heard Lizzie groan, the heat exhaustion getting to you all. “Uh oh, geek squad is done with their little exhibition.” Laura snickered, the Hell Fire club coming out of the school’s doors.

You grinned, seeing the frog face. You stalked over to them, waving, “hiiii!” Your honeyed cheerful voice rang, causing them to turn their heads towards you. “Well, hello to you,“ you completely ignored the member, standing in front of Mike. “So, consider my offer?” He grimaced at your presence, his eyes darting around the greenery to avoid that gaze in your eyes.  

“Why do you want me there so badly?” He stated, not expecting the grin you gave him to be the response that came out first. “Why can’t I?.. It’s a waste not to have a knockout there.” He sneered at your words, shoving you out of his way to his bike. Those words echoed through his mind with annoying tranquility, the sound of leaves falling gently amongst the sound of your voice duplicating in his head. You could only watch with a grin, knowing you got Mike Wheeler right where you wanted him.

You sat on the counter holding a beer bottle, the sound of Diana Ross blaring through the house as people danced and laughed amongst themselves, surrounded by a group of of your own. “She has some nerve showing her face here.” You snickered, seeing Alyssa waltz in like some pity party host.  

You took a swig of the beer before getting off and walking over. “And you are?” You questioned her, tilting your head with that malicious smile you wore before pouncing. “C'mon Y/N… it’s me. Alyssa.” You scoffed and looked around before turning back to her. “Doesn’t ring a bell… and you’re here why?” You questioned her, Rodney and Emily were right behind you with teasing smirks and cackles. Alyssa looked embarrassed at her desperation, looking around for any inclination that she had someone on her side…But no prince came.

“Try not to throw up this time, tight throat.” You pushed past her to see the front door open. A Wheeler at the same party as a Harrington, after 5? Years. Mike made his way through the party with the two dweebs he always had, but you weren’t paying attention to them. You noticed his eyes shifting around before settling onto you, softening before returning to his cold gaze like a stray cat caught enjoying pets. All you did was grin, knowing the cat and mouse game started. You kept your distance, though made it clear where your attention was. You sat on the counter, laughing with your friends a little loudly; leaning forward with the beer bottle in your hand.

You looked up to see Mike grabbing a bottle, slithering beside him with the palm of your hand wrapping around the base of the bottle. “You sure you want that?” You muttered in his ear, your voice bodacious compared to the deafening music of Wham! He stiffened at the feeling of your chin brushing against his shoulder. He looked down to see your eyes flutter from the bottle up to him. Twisting your body to be in front of his.  

“I didn’t think you were coming.” You voiced to him, leaning against the counter with your elbows on the edge. He scoffed. “I never said I wasn’t going to — I just.” he stopped himself, taking a breath in hopes to better articulate his words with a dry mouth and fuzzy mind. You tilted your head to the side, smiling a bit, you noticed the two guys he brought. “You babysitting?” You questioned, testing the waters at how he would respond to you talking about his friends. He sneered a bit before fixing his expression, taking a drink of the beer reluctantly, a look of disgust appearing on his face.

“This shit is horrible.” He blurted, wiping his mouth of the bitter taste. You chuckled, taking a swig yourself. “You get used to it. C'mon, I know one of these guys has something good in their room.” You beckoned, pushing off the counter and walking off to the hallway. He stood frozen, unsure of what he should do. His body wanted to move forward, but his mind. His mind told him to stay. To yell at you for thinking he’d do something like that with you. To shout at how your hands wrapped around that bottle made him jealous. Before he knew it, he was leaning against the doorway of a room watching you search through it without a care in the world for who it belonged to or if they were OK with you touching their stuff.  

“Jackpot. Knew that bastard had something.” You snickered, standing up with two California Coolers. He looked at the bottles, familiar from the ones he saw his mom drink once but unknown to younger people buying them as well. You went over to the key chain holder on the wall, using the bottle cap opener to get the caps off the drinks. Taking your time leisurely. “Don’t you think we should get back to the party?..” he asked, you shook your head no with a relaxed expression. You turned and sat on the couch in the room, leaning with your hip pushed up against the corner that connected the cushions and pillows, your feet up against your butt. Heels beside the couch somewhere. He looked at the careless act admirably. Before he knew it, he looked back down the hallway before shutting the door behind him and sitting next to you. Three feet away from you.

“You’ll like this way better. It’s a California Cooler. It’s sweeter, you look like a sweet guy.” You snickered at the word play you did, giving him the green bottle. He looked at you reluctantly before taking a sip, his expression shifting from skeptical to shock and interest. “It’s fruity. Is this what San Fernando Valley tastes like?” “No, Mike,“ you laughed, turning your head down as he smiled with a snicker. “What? Is that not in California?” he asked, looking at your tickled expression with a slight fondness. “These came from Northern California. San Fernando is in South California.” You explained, his face growing red at his mistake, which made you laugh harder.

You both talked and laughed, the chemistry growing stronger with each snicker or banter being thrown around. The California helped ease the atmosphere he held up, starting to enjoy your presence… and forgetting your tendencies. 

“Are you serious?” You uttered out with a scoff. Mike nodded with a snicker himself. “Yeah. He stood on the cafeteria table and yelled that out. While I was at the table." you laughed at his explanation, purely howling at it. You fell back on the couch holding your stomach. He looked down at you with amusement, becoming hyper aware of how his body felt at that exact moment once he saw yours.

“Get up.” He chuckled, pulling your arm to get you back into a seating position. “An—And where was I!!?” You sobbed, sitting on your knees. He shrugged, taking the final sip of the bottle as he put it on the table in front. “Hell if I knew? All I knew was that he embarrassed us at that table.” You took a deep breath, trying not to laugh harder. “I’ll throw these away.” You spoke, standing up with the empty bottles.  

You paused when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, you turned your head to him with confusion. “Mike?” You questioned, his expression.. it was blank yet it held inner meaning, his face darkened with something adjacent to need. Before you could ask anything else, he yanked you closer to him your knee hitting the pillowy cushion of the couch The bottles rolling off to god knows where.

You completely forgot as to why you brought Mike here, why you even started going after him. Your mind turned into mush, now aware of his hand on your hip. You leaned in, your lips brushing up against his as he closed the connection, a sweet, tender kiss that fluffed the other's pillow like lips. He pulled back reluctantly, his body already needing more. 

“I—I can’t. I have a girlfriend,” he whispered, the guilt starting to creep into him. You leaned into him. “Is she here now?…” you asked him, kissing his neck with tenderness. Feeling the bob of his Adam’s apple, he tilted his head back against the couch. “Still.i-” he muttered, grabbing your hips to pull you off, you pouted before licking his neck and leaning your warm body against his.

He stiffed at the feeling: “Relax your mind… You don’t have to do anything else Mike. Just Stay with me.” He felt a slight nip, groaning with eyes that fluttered shut. He dipped deeper into the pleasure, softly breathing through parted lips. “Fuck it...” He chuckled, crawling into his lap.

Lucas talked with Dustin, getting stares from the guys around them, but no one really cared to bother them. Lucas was the first to notice the loud yelling in the corner of the room, seeing two guys push each other before slamming the other down onto a glass table. Causing everyone to scream and yell at the fight breaking out. “Yo, we have to go.” Lucas warned Dustin as he nodded. They looked around for Mike but saw no signs of him.  

“Where’s Mike?” He asked with a worried expression. Dustin shrugged. “I don’t know, went to the bathroom or something.” They looked down the hallway, rushing down it towards a door they assumed was for the bathroom.

They opened the door to see your back turned to them… on top of Mike’s lap bouncing at a fast stuttering rate. His hands on your upper hip with his face turned upwards at you, they assumed. Lucas immediately slammed the door, looking at each other with astonishment and horror. Horror from walking in on their friend doing…that and astonishment that Mike had to balls to do that here.  

After a while, Mike came out disheveled and reluctant. Fixing his pants with you behind fixing your own skirt and heels. You heard yelling from the front and immediately pulled them all to the back. “What happened!?” You asked Dustin and Lucas. They both shrugged, looking at each other in hopes of recalling how the fight even started. “They just started yelling about some girl,” Lucas responded, following behind you. Dustin nodded: “Yeah, something about her not liking the other guy. I don’t know, but they ended up breaking a coffee table and fighting over her.” You rolled your eyes at the explanation they both gave you, knowing exactly who it could be that was fighting.

“Probably Daryl and Adam again...I thought they got kicked out of the last party.” You whispered, you pushed them out the back of the house. “Wait — you know those guys?” Mike blurted out in with arched eyebrows and a wrinkle in his nose. You waved him off callously. “I was involved with one… or I think both—I don’t remember.” You shrugged, uncaring of the situation since you were out of the house. You saw flashing lights of red and blue, knowing the shitty neighbors, probably the cops once more.

You didn’t need to worry about that, you Already saw Steve’s car waiting for you “Gotta bounce, I’m outtie.” You voiced to them, hopping into Steve’s car.

▮ 𝗺𝗶𝗲𝗰𝘇𝘆𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘄 “𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀” 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗳𝗲𝗺! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

▮ 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 the 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻, kinda ooc 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝘀 “𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲” 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀, 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗮𝗷𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲, same with stiles towards reader (the voices).

▮ slight suggestive 18+ (pet names, good boy¹), 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘂𝗯/𝗱𝗼𝗺, fluff

▮ word count + fic : 𝟣.𝟤𝖪/ one-shot

▮ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Stiles is glad that, out of everything in this messed-up supernatural world, he finds normalcy in you. However, he can’t help but drift into thoughts of the opposite.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Friday, April XX, 2011

𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁 𝖺𝗂𝗋. 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖲𝖼𝗈𝗍𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗉𝗁𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖣𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗄, 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝖧𝖾’𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁.

You did. His pleas were oh so sweet.

𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖲𝖾𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇. You’d grabbed everyone’s attention. It’s not every day that someone transfers to Beacon Hills High School, especially in the middle of fall.

𝖳𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝗅, 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝖲𝖼𝗈𝗍𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖧𝖾’𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗎𝗍: 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽.

𝖶𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖺 𝗈𝖿 𝖲𝖼𝗈𝗍𝗍, 𝖠𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗇, 𝖫𝗒𝖽𝗂𝖺, 𝖣𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗄, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌? 𝖦𝗈𝗌𝗁, 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁.

𝖲𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝖥𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝖬𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗒. 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅. 𝖧𝖾’𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗀𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗒. 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

“𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄.

𝖫𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗒-𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾’𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒, 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

“𝖬𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾.” 𝖧𝖾’𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽.

𝖯𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽, “𝖡𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍-𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗌, 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗄𝗂, 𝖨’𝗆 𝗌𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗍.” 𝖲𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖦𝗈𝗌𝗁, 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

“𝖭𝗈,” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝖲𝗁𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽, “𝖨 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗇𝗈, 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅.” 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗁𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. “𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖨 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎.”

𝖫𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖿𝗎𝗅, 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. “𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽?” 𝖧𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽. 𝖶𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾, 𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍?

𝖳𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, “𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖾, 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝖼’𝗆𝗈𝗇.” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, “𝖢𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗎𝖾?”

𝖥𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗎𝗉, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖡𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗂𝖼 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽.

.꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀, 𝖺 𝟣𝟧-𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗃𝖺𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖲𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎. “𝖠𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾?” 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾.

He didn’t want the day with you to end early due to a distraction.

𝖢𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗄𝗂𝗇, “𝖭𝗈𝗉𝖾,” 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾, 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇. 𝖫𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖺-𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖣𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. “𝖢𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗌.” 𝖲𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗋, 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽'𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾.

“𝖴𝗁 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖨’𝗆 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗋. 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾, 𝖨’𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗇𝗈𝗐.” 𝖱𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌. 𝖧𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗓𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖧𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒. “𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒, 𝗆𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. “𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒, 𝗋𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄. “𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾. 𝖨 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾.”

𝖳𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖧𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝖳𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌.

Oh, he really is adorable. I could just-

“𝖨 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗒,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾, 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖽, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌. 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, you’re his light too.

𝖳𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗋𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝖳𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗎𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁.

“𝖮𝗉𝖾𝗇,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗍. 𝖧𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁.

“𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗒,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. “𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍?” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗊𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾.

𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽. 𝖧𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗎𝗉, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾. 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐.” 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾.

“𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁.” 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, “𝖬𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐. 𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑? 𝖶𝖾’𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒?” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

“𝖮𝗄𝖺𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖧𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗁𝖾’d 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.

𝖳𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖲𝗍𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽.

Brownies, huh?

▌a/n: thoughts? 😛 this turned out longer than expected, reader isn’t really that obsessive/yandere? as she’s tame but fuck it we ball + Stiles also on the same wavelength. So they made for one another. BOOM 💥

summary: five years after moving across the country in a family emergency, you have come back to wabang to pick up the pieces and find the person you never wanted to leave.

warnings: 18+, non-graphic/non-descriptive smut ???, sexual themes, mentions of death, mention of panic attack, public make out, some angst… rhett abbott will always come with warnings 🤷🏼‍♀️

a/n: this is short but i’m completely obsessed

it had been explosive, what you and rhett abbott had; something similar to supernovas colliding. friends since childhood, lovers all through high school and beyond. even after your parents moved to the city, almost a country length away, you had stayed in wabang. for rhett. with rhett. your parents had been furious at first. you were freshly out of high school, just barely an adult. they had promised you one last summer in wabang— a precious few more months with rhett. they had hopes of you in a proper college— maybe business school or law school in new york. instead, you chose to stay. everything you saw in your future was right here, you had argued. your mom cried. your dad didn’t speak to you for months. but it settled down and they eventually called on your twentieth birthday. you and rhett had moved in together by then; renting a small place not too far from (and not too close to) the abbott ranch. your parents came to visit twice in one year, then never again. your dad had started a successful business that required all of his attention and your mom became too used to the city and all it’s novelties to leave. you missed them terribly in the first few years but rhett and the abbotts had become more like your family than ever. you had convinced rhett to go to new york with you once or twice to see them, but he hated the city, and the people. rhett refused to get on a plane and insisted on driving. wyoming to new york was a hell of a drive, yet he still insisted on making it twice– there and back twice- just for you.

things were better for you than they had ever been. work was good, rhett was amazing. he woke you up every morning with soft kisses and breakfast cooking before your early shift. rhett was planning to propose and was looking at land. a bigger place you could build from scratch, room where you could finally have your damn donkeys and a handful of horses, and the eventual running of smaller feet. the ring sat in the glovebox of his truck. where it had been for three months while he stupidly plucked up the courage to actually ask you the question. rhett sat across from the chair you had been occupying seconds ago before you ran to the bathroom. small box resting in the pocket of his uncharacteristically nice jacket, his knee bouncing anxiously as he obsessively fixed his hair to give his mind something else to worry about. last night he had won his title for regional champion. tonight he took you out of town for a probably overpriced meal to celebrate, and finally take that next step towards everything he wanted with you.

it would have been perfect. rhett definitely would have cried, you definitely would have said yes; there would have been a historical kiss that likely got too hot and heavy for a public setting.

instead, you got the call that your father died and your mother was in pieces and couldn’t be alone. instead, you jumped on a plane, rhett driving you to the airport in silence, breaking every speed limit he crossed. instead, rhett was left standing at the terminal, watching your plane takeoff with everything he cared about and the only future he ever wanted. instead, you left wabang and rhett as quickly as you had fallen in love.

you had promised to come back. you had promised to get everything taken care of and then return right back into his arms. instead, you had to catch your dads failing business. instead, your mom got sick, slowly lost herself from a broken heart and died.

instead, you were away for five years.

——————

the heat of wabang summers would put anywhere else to shame. the humidity latched itself onto everything, collecting the dust and dirt along with it. your t-shirt was sticking to you, a few frizzy hairs poking out from your baseball cap, over your face. you prayed you didn’t look like a tourist. you prayed you didn’t look out of place, despite knowing this sticky air and the dirt under your shoes like you knew yourself. you leaned against the bleachers, taking in the stomping of cowboy boots and the hollers and yells of the rodeo crowd. god, you were home.

your plane had landed four hours ago and now you stood along the gates of the arena. the uber had looked at you like you were insane when you told him the address. you, in your damn pant suit and heels who changed in the backseat of the uber. the boots still fit. they slid on like they always had. comforting and wonderful, questioning why it had been so long. you had quipped a monotone ‘eyes on the road’ as the eyes in the rear view mirror caught you sliding out of your work pants. you had shorts on underneath them, for godssake. you stumbled out of the uber, heart in your throat, shaking, practically giddy. you had kept in touch with him. god, of course you had. but the daily texts got less regular as the city pulled you further away from him. you stopped at the gate, eyes on the arena and bleachers full of cowboy hats and boots. “ticket?” you fumbled for your wallet, which was one of the only things you had brought with you. hell, most of your things you had left here. and here there was no need for your new york clothes and business suits. god, what if he threw everything out? what if he hated you? what if he had moved on? you pulled out a handful of money, not bothering to look at it, not bothering to stop for a hand stamp as your feet blindly propelled you forward.

you watched the next rider half heartedly, wincing as he got thrown almost instantly. you might have missed him. how did you know he would even be here tonight? you didn’t. it was insanity that brought you here. unannounced. foolishly hoping he would be here. you pushed past a few people, mumbling an apology as they cast you dirty looks. your hands grabbed onto the metal bar of the gate, steadying yourself, trying to stop your head from spinning. “rhett abbott will be ending the night, as our final rider.” you damn near threw up at those words. you stumbled against the gate, clinging to it like it was the only thing keeping you on your feet. it was. the next rider had climbed the gates of the chute and you felt your heart stop.

rhett still looked goddamn good. only a little older, only a little less clean shaven. god, it suited him. he wore the same hat. the same red flannel. a new belt buckle and newer boots. it was him. you had to remind yourself to breathe, gasping in air and earning even more glares from beside you. you didn’t even hear the bell, your head felt like it was no longer attached to your body as you just watched him. somehow he had gotten even better. the same determination on his face, the same casual expression as he was tossed and thrown around. but there was something different behind his eyes. the usual light wasn’t there. rhett rolled off long after he needed to, gracefully rising to his feet with barely any dirt on him. shit, he hadn’t lost any effect on you. he waved to the crowd with a grateful smile that didn’t quite go all the way. he turned slowly, stopping dead in his tracks. the tight smile vanished, his eyes widened, his stance tensed and became rigid. you shrank from his gaze. now embarrassed, guilty, hating yourself and wanting desperately to run.

rhett had frozen. he had stopped dead in his tracks, ignoring the yells and calls of his name. he ignored the wranglers getting dragged by the bull as they returned him to his pen. he even ignored his own family standing up and waving their arms, cheering louder than everyone else. you couldn’t move. damn these boots, they weren’t used to being walked in anymore. you thought you may combust, heat rising in your face, heart pounding against your ribs like it was trying to break out. he was moving. shit, he was moving now. you had tensed, cursing yourself for the way your brain had turned to mush. do something. move. move!

rhett was climbing the gate, and you still stood like a damn deer in headlights. his feet hit the ground and the toes of his boots were nearly touching your own. he just stood there. his eyes were still wide, pupils darting back and forth across your face like he was making sure you were really there. you couldn’t breathe. no, you actually couldn’t breathe. there was no air getting into your lungs as your heart beat even more frantically. your chest tightened painfully. there was a roaring in your head and you almost wondered if this is what a heart attack was like. maybe a panic attack? he stepped forward then and your knees almost buckled. his right boot was right in between your own, eyes now dark and fiery. shit. his eyes had narrowed just slightly, a firmness and passion behind them. yell at me. please yell and scream and be mad at me. i deserve it. his shoulders were rigid, eyes burning into you like he was trying to set you on fire.

you finally exhaled. it was a sharp breath, having to force it out while your mind reminded your lungs they needed air, “i’m sor—“ his mouth was against yours before you could get the words out the rest of the way. his arms tucked under your own and held tightly against your waist. your back hit the side of the bleachers as he pushed himself against you until there was not possibly a single millimeter between you. you gasped against his lips, wanting to talk to him but not being able to physically speak— or breathe. his lips followed yours, not giving you a moment away from him, biting down on your bottom lip as you attempted to pull away to take a breath. god. you gasped again, hand fisting his shirt as his hand slid down just below your back jeans pocket. he squeezed just slightly and you swore your vision went black. his other hand slid just slightly under your shirt, pinching lightly as he lifted you off your feet. oh. oh hell, you were still in public. you almost didn’t care… this wasn’t the greeting you had expected. you had maybe fantasized about this every single night, but it wasn’t how you realistically thought you would reunite. rhett’s breathing was erratic now, breathing heavily against your ear as his teeth grazed against your neck, to your collarbone. you bit back a gasp, hands tightening on his sides to steady yourself— to attempt to pull him back slightly. easy. holy shit. rhett finally relented, head falling against your neck, breathing deeply, heavily, damn near panting. he had barely taken a breath since he got off the bull and you were mildly concerned about his health. but mainly just wildly turned on now… “you’re back.” his hand stayed under your shirt, now tracing small circles against your now-even-more-damp skin. “yes.” he sucked in a deep breath again, his eyes wild like he was struggling to hold himself back, “shit.” he drew in another ragged breath, eyes trailing you up and down, “how long?” you felt your heartbeat slow down to a slightly more healthy pace. “came straight from the airport.” rhett was breathing slowly, either to hold himself back or like he used to do to avoid beating the shit out of someone. “really? straight from the airport? didn’t stop and change out of your fancy new york clothes first?” he eyed you up and down like he was looking at a meal. you smirked just slightly and shook your head, “changed in the back of the uber.” rhett whistled lowly at that, “shit.” he eyed you with a look that damn well could have brought you to your knees. he pulled you closer again and your head spun. two fingers tucked into your belt loops on either side as he tugged you against him. “you’re..here? you’re staying?” you were breathless again as he held you against him, “i’m staying.”

**

two supernovas colliding had nothing on this. this was the asteroid that took out the damn dinosaurs. you hadn’t made it to say hi to his parents, or to tell people you were back. you had made it to a cornfield, windows of his truck cracked to avoid fogging up. “rhett—“ you worried slightly for the state of your wellbeing as his head bowed between your legs again.

“shut up.” rhett had climbed back onto the seat, lips, teeth and tongue now working down your neck and along your collarbone. “hey—“ it was quite hard to be firm or try remembering your train of thought when he moved his hips that way against you. “i said shut up.” his hand covered your mouth and you suddenly didn’t remember what you had even wanted to talk about. you just nodded stupidly, back to focusing on getting enough air to your lungs. it had been like this before. you knew that. but this had a new desperation and wildness to it. you had greatly underestimated your memories of him feeling quite that good, or him fitting that well against you as he held you, or the way he tasted, or the way he kissed you or touched you. and you certainly didn’t remember his name tasting so good over and over and over, until finally, you passed out.

“oh, shit.” you would have laughed normally, had you not been so out of it. rhett was looking at you from the passenger seat, eyes knit with concern, brows furrowed slightly. “i’m sorry.” you rubbed your face and groaned slightly, lifting your head from the back seat slowly. you sat up, feeling like you were out of your body. “damn.” rhett was still wide eyed, looking at you full of concern, overhead light flipped on so he could look you over. “i’m sorry. i just…” you coughed out a laugh, smiling widely as you shook your head. damn. he looked even more concerned as you laughed, shifting slightly, “uh-“ you waved a hand, “don’t apologize…” his body relaxed slightly, “are you alright?” you blinked slowly, still much more out of it than you cared to admit. nothing like getting off a plane filled with adrenaline, going straight to a rodeo and then hooking up again with the greatest love of your life in the back of his truck. your head was spinning. “great… i’m..yes.” you pulled your shirt back over your head, fingers fumbling as you attempted to button your pants again— they hadn’t even made it all the way off, you realized. rhett laughed this time, tilting his head just slightly as he looked at you, “god i missed that look.” you felt your cheeks heat up and attempted to rub your face again, until the stupid expression was wiped away. “i missed you.” he had climbed back beside you, facing you across the bench seat. you looked away, now feeling the guilt creep back in. “i’m sorry. i wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t-“ “i know.” he took both hands and kissed your knuckles, “you had to go. i know you did.” you felt tears threaten to spill and tried blinking them away. “i should have come back sooner. i— i didn’t want to leave you.” “hey, no.” he scooted closer to you, wrapping you up in his arms. you buried your face in his chest, breathing him in. he had put his clothes back on but the familiar smell of him still made you dizzy. his faded cologne, sweat, the slightest hint of dirt. “you needed to go. i knew you would come back eventually… when everything was taken care of.”

you shifted just slightly to look up at him, “it’s been five years.” “i know.” “five years, rhett. and i haven’t called, or…” he rested his head on yours, “it’s been five years and i haven’t been able to go a single day without thinking about you. and somehow i think i might love you even more now.” you really had nothing to say to that and the guilt must have been evident on your face. “hey.” he tilted your chin up to face him, “you’re it for me. even if you never came back. even if you found someone else and moved on. i would still be here. always. right where you left me.” well, shit. “i would never have found someone else. after mom died, the business finally sold. i knew i needed to get back to you. i didn’t even pack my shit. i grabbed a change of clothes…and my boots… and i just got on the plane……” rhett was just looking at you, holding you in his arms like you might disappear again if he let go. “i’m sorry i didn’t come to the funeral. i… things have been stressful here.” he put his hand up at your worried expression, “don’t worry about it right now. we have time for me to fill you in.” you relaxed slightly, melting further into him, “i’m sorry. i should have been there.” you kissed him softly, hand resting against his jaw as you held him there. “you needed to be here.” you kissed him again, smiling softly. “i love you.” you knew. he had waited five years and never stopped.

“i love you.”

he let his chin rest on your head again, his arms crossed against your stomach. “where’re you staying?” you had closed your eyes, just letting yourself get lost against him. once again safe in his arms. “i haven’t even gotten that far…” rhett’s lip twitched up just slightly, “come on. you’ll come home with me.” you didn’t bring yourself to ask if he was still in the same house- you couldn’t really handle thinking about that place. “i’m with my parents right now. they won’t mind. they love you… they’ll be thrilled you’re back.” shit. rhett felt the way you tensed, “we’ll get a new place. this one will be permanent.” you kissed him again and things finally felt okay. “let’s go home.” he held his hand out as you took it and climbed back into the passenger seat. your head rested against his shoulder as he drove back to the ranch in silence. as you closed your eyes, half asleep on the drive to the ranch, your knee fell against the glovebox. the same glovebox that held the same tools for all these years. the same glovebox that still held a ring, waiting– still— to be placed on the same finger it had been bought for, all those years ago.

—————

for the first time in five years, you woke up without the sounds of traffic, and in the arms of someone else. rhett had been awake for hours. he was silent, though, not daring to move an inch in case it woke you up. he was looking at you when you finally opened your eyes and from anyone else, it would have been creepy. he was propped slightly on his elbow, arm still stretched out under your head. his other arm was draped over your stomach, face inches from your own. he bent slightly to kiss your shoulder, the oversize shirt of his you had thrown on to sleep in exposing a few inches of skin that he focused on. you had missed waking up to this. blue eyes meeting you first thing in the morning with a sleepy kiss and an even sleepier smile. “hi,” you said it shyly, as if this was the first time you had woken up next to him. “good morning,” he met your lips with his, the sleepy, content smile growing wider. “did you sleep alright?” hell, yes. you nestled closer to him in answer, head falling against his shoulder. you suspected he had chores and farm work, just like it used to be. but you really didn’t feel guilty about keeping him from his work, or his parents for a while longer. “i have to…break it to my parents.. before you just go walking out of here.” you could hear his smile, and how he probably wouldn’t be embarrassed in the slightest when he told them. you kissed his chest in answer and smiled as he sharply inhaled, “i’m not going anywhere.” his arms tightened around you as he breathed deeply, “i usually sleep in a while the mornings after rides. but this might be pushing mom coming in and making sure i’m not dead.” poor cecelia would have a fright if she walked in. never mind that you were both clothed, that wasn’t guaranteed to be the case for long if he kept touching you like that. fingers tracing your hip gently- not needy, just needing to feel you. needing to know you were still really here. “i hear them up. i’d better go prepare them.” you smiled playfully but quickly pouted as he slid out from under the covers. rhett just smirked slightly as he saw your expression, pulling clean jeans on over his boxers and grabbing the blue flannel you always loved on him.

you debated getting out of his bed and getting dressed. but the sheets and pillow smelled like him and you had no idea what he had done with last nights clothes, or if he even still had all your old clothes around in here. there was a shriek heard from the kitchen, something shattered, then two male voices yelling. the door burst open and you shot bolt upright, thankful you were at least wearing a baggy shirt that hid certain things that usually required a bra. “it is you!”

“mom–!”

“cecelia—!“

rhett and royal protested at the same time, but she had already rushed into the room. again, thank god you wore a shirt and had your legs still under the covers. she pulled you into a hug before you could breathe, not sure if you should feel as embarrassed as you did. “oh, sweet girl, you’re back!” rhett was eyeing his mom from over her shoulder in exasperation, nodding to you gently in apology. you just smiled, keeping your arms around mrs. abbott until she let go. “cecelia-“ royal looked awkward from the doorway, not quite meeting your eyes but nodding to you with a tight smile that was still genuine. “oh, royal, it’s fine—“ cecelia finally released you and rhett visibly let out a breath. “mom…” his expression was pleading now, tone still soft but laced with embarrassment. “you’ll see her at breakfast, honey. let the girl wake up…” cecelia muttered an apology, though she looked at royal skeptically. “go on and finish fixing breakfast. i’m sure she’s had a long night. with the flight, and all…” something in royal’s tone was playful. a tiny suggestion that caused even rhett to fight back a smirk.

“please stay for breakfast.” cecelia nodded once, still smiling as she finally left the room. rhett closed the door behind her and you swore you saw him hold the handle a little tighter as cecelia said something else. “i’m so sorry.” rhett looked incredulous, cheeks slightly red, “i didn’t think she would come bursting in here…” you were just smiling, and rhett laughed nervously, “what?” he gave you his crooked smile, half smirking as he spoke, “what is it?” you pulled yourself from the sheets and stood up, head falling against his shirt again as you pulled him into a hug.

“i’m never leaving you again.”

“you’d better not.”

————————

taglist: