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#had such trouble making her look young but i think it ended pretty well
hotvintagepoll · 3 days
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Propaganda
Louise Brooks (Pandora's Box, Diary of a Lost Girl)—Louise Brooks started off as a dancer and went to work in the Follies before going to Hollywood. Disappointed with her roles there, she went to Germany and proceeded to make Pandora's Box, the first film to show a lesbian on-screen (not her but one of her many doomed admirers in the film), and Diary of a Lost Girl, both of which are considered two of the greatest films of the 20th century. She helped popularize the bob and natural acting, acting far more subtly than her contemporaries who treated the camera as a stage audience. After the collapse of her film career and a remarkably rough patch as a high-end sex worker, she was rediscovered and did film criticism, notably "Lulu in Hollywood," which Rodger Ebert called "indispensable." Also, christ. Look at her.
Vilma Bánky (The Son of the Sheik, The Eagle)—She's famous now for being a silent star ruined by the transition to talkies, unlike her frequent co-star Ronald Colman. I think that's a shame, as she has a real vivaciousness and charm in The Winning of Barbara Worth. In this *checks notes* western about environmental engineering, she rides around the desert and gets wooed by both Colman and a young Gary Cooper (good for her dot gif.) Even in stills from films that are sadly lost, I think there is a distinctive warmth and individuality to her. Also she is extremely hot in her extremely pre-Code dress in The Magic Flame.
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Louise Brooks:
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"Defined the style of the modern flapper. A gaze that could make a stone fall in love."
"Louise Brooks left a legend far greater than her real achievement as an actress, but even today few people have seen her films. In our own time, the fascination with Brooks seems to have begun in 1979 with a profile by Kenneth Tynan in the New Yorker, which revealed that the actress who made her last movie in 1938 was alive and living in Rochester, N.Y. Such was the power of Tynan's prose that people began to seek out her existing films, primarily this one, to discover what the fuss was about. What we see here is a healthy young woman -- she was 23 when the film was released -- with whom the camera, under G.W. Pabst's influence, is fascinated. There is a deep paradox in Brooks and her career: the American girl who found success in the troubled Europe between two wars; the vivid personality who briefly dazzled two continents but faded into obscurity; the liberated woman who had affairs with such prominent men as CBS founder William S. Paley as well as with women including (by her account) Greta Garbo but wound up a solitary recluse. And all of this seems perfectly in keeping with her most celebrated role in Pandora's Box. For despite her bright vitality, her flashing dark eyes and brilliant smile, Brooks's Lulu becomes the ultimate femme fatale, careering her way toward destruction, not only of her lovers but eventually of herself."
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"She invented having bangs to indicate that you have borderline personality disorder"
"chances are if youve ever seen a "flapper girl" character or even just art of a generic flapper type made after the 20s it was based on her appearance - particularly the bob hairstyle! she had some pretty rough experiences through her life before during and after her tumultuous acting career which ended in 1938 but she made it to the 80s, wrote an autobiography and did a lot of interviews that she was never afraid of being honest in about her own life or peers of the age, and apparently was unabashed about some affairs she had with well known women (including greta garbo!!)"
"She read Proust and Schopenhauer on set between sets. She was one of the original flappers/new women of the 1920s. She had a one night stand with Garbo and was the inspiration for Sally Bowles in Cabaret. Truly a stone cold fox."
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"on her wikipedia page it says her biographer said she "loved women as a homosexual man, rather than as a lesbian, would love them" and while i have no idea if this is true or not i thought that was very gender of her"
"despite being american she was big in german expressionist films and thus her aesthetic was unmatched!!"
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So far ahead of her time in regard to portraying complicated women. Timeless elegance. "I learned to act by watching Martha Graham dance, and I learned to dance by watching Charlie Chaplin act.” - Louise Brooks
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Vilma Bánky:
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I love Vilma Bánky! She was called "the Hungarian Rhapsody" and apparently had a thick Hungarian accent which I think is cute. Several men fighting over the same women can be very cliche but when I saw her in The Winning of Barbara Worth (1926) I got it because my god she really is that drop dead gorgeous. She's also a wonderful actress though, expressive yet natural. I read once that seeing her in The Dark Angel (1925)—a film now seemingly lost—inspired Merle Oberon to become an actress :)
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This is more of a factoid but she was apparently the women's golf champion at Wilshire Country Club through the 1940s. [link] I just think she's neat.
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I love herrrrr she’s my everything. Watching her kiss Rudolph Valentino in Son of the Sheik made me so flustered I had to pause the movie to cool down. She’s the prettiest the most beautiful the most incredible woman I’ve ever seen. I could look at a picture of her for hours
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petbacteria · 2 years
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clara to round off my healer portraits <3
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moongreenlight · 5 months
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Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”
Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.
But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.
He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.
He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.
He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.
You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.
He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.
He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.
He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.
He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.
You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.
You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.
There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.
Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.
He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.
And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.
“Alright?”
You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.
It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.
“You sure, doll?”
The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.
Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.
You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.
“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”
You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.
“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”
You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.
“I don’t know if that��s appropriate, considering…”
He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.
“What? Baking me a cake?”
You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.
“Never been a very good baker.”
He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.
“That right?”
You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.
“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”
It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.
“Sure.”
You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.
“It’s complicated, John.”
Your voice is mousy now.
“I know.”
A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.
“I just-“
“Then tell me to go home.”
The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.
“My husb-“
“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”
The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.
“John, he-“
A throaty growl from him.
“He’s not getting a lick of you.”
And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.
He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.
Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.
When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.
It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.
You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.
He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.
He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.
And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.
The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.
He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.
And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.
You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.
He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like
“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”
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imperihoe-writes · 6 months
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"Your hands around my neck."
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Colonel Alejandro Vargas / fem!Reader
Summary:  After a mission goes south, Alejandro finds himself stuck in a cabin with the most infuriating and tempting person he knows.
Content:  (fr)enemies-to-lovers, mild jealousy, protective Alejandro, blood and injury, lots of bickering, sex dreams, kissing, finger sucking, masturbation, consensual throat grabbing, he's so mean in the best way :(
↳ callsign for the reader is Schwalbe (swallow, like the bird, German)
Word Count:  6.8k
Notes:  The Alejandro Tales continue once more! This request ran away from me, and I wanted to make sure to do it justice. I haven't written smut quite like this before, but I thought it would fit within the context of the injuries mentioned. 🥀🖤
NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," she hissed, back pressed to the Colonel's as they fired round after round into the misty forest, tree bark splintering as bullets hit them. Night was falling fast and their line of vision was poor, the number of enemies remaining unclear.
"This," Alejandro ground out between clenched teeth, pushing into her further as they kept on wading through shin-high snow. "Is your fault."
"My fault?" Her voice rose several octaves, almost hysterical. "You were the one that left our only comm device in some random diner like a complete rookie!"
"Because you had to go and-"
They both ducked as another hail of bullets flew past them.
"-pick the only guy in that town to flirt with who works for Ivankov and is smart enough to tell that they're being hustled for information!"
"For the last time: I was not flirting with him! You charging up to us with zero knowledge of Russian in a never-heard-of town in the middle of nowhere was probably more of a giveaway that we don't belong than me vaguely asking about the mines!"
"He was about to draw a gun on you, niña zonzo. Which you would have known if you weren't so easily distracted by some pretty eyes and an easy smile." 
The sneer in the Colonel's voice was clear, and Schwalbe snarled. How dare he pin this on her! 
"What did you just call me?"
Alejandro reloaded his gun with quick movements, then pushed Schwalbe onwards. It made her stumble, and snow found its way into her hiking boots for the hundredth time and oh yeah, she was definitely going to kill him when all this was over.
"Never mind." 
"Respectfully, sir, be quiet then. This is your fault, and you know it."
Of course, he did. Alejandro felt stupid, like the rookie she'd accused him of being but seeing her leaning against the wooden counter, eating blini and smiling up at that blonde prick had lit up every single nerve ending in his body. 
The way her jeans hugged the curve of her generous thighs and butt as she shifted from one leg to the other, the heavy black sheepskin jacket hiding her chest harness full of knives and emergency supplies. She looked like a regular young woman enjoying a meal with a stranger, blending in with her open smile that made her cheeks puff in that annoyingly adorable way.
For a moment, he hadn't been thinking straight, and when the guy reached inside his coat in the same spot that Alejandro carried his own firearm, well. 
It had led to them speeding out of town in a rush, two black jeeps trailing them and one heavily bleeding Russian slumped over the counter. His bag, which contained the emergency radio, their fake passports and money had been left behind in the booth he'd occupied.
"I knew it was a mistake to go on this mission with you," he panted, groping for her hand as they ran along through the quickly approaching darkness, their car long abandoned in an icy ditch somewhere. Alejandro hoped they would find their way back to it in the morning. "Trouble just follows you like the plague."
Her fingers twitched and twisted out of his, teeth bared and hair wild as she whirled on him, exasperated. The sight stole the breath out of his lungs for a moment. 
"Then do us both the favor and request literally anybody else next time, Colonel! I'm so sick and tired of you acting like you're somehow better than me every time we cross paths!"
"That's not-"
A loud shot rang out from somewhere to their left, and Alejandro felt the warmth of blood soaking his side way before the pain hit. 
Schwalbe's eyes widened with shock, then she pressed him down by the shoulder in an often-practised move. With a grunt, he let himself fall to his knees in the snow, clutching the wet fabric of his sweater and pressing inwards against the bullet wound. 
She used his slumped body to steady her aim, then fired off three quick rounds. The silencer muffled the gunshot sounds, and suddenly, there was no more shouting, no more movement around them.
Gun still raised and eyes trained on somewhere behind him, she reached for his hand this time and Alejandro gripped her forearm with a hiss, pulling himself back up on unsteady feet. 
"Bastards," she swore and then glanced over at him. "You alright?"
"Never been better," he grunted sarcastically but didn't protest when she wrapped an arm around his middle and draped his right arm over her shoulders. 
"We need to get you somewhere safe, so I can assess the damage properly. Can you walk?"
"What if I said no? Will you carry me, little bird?"
"In your wildest dreams. I'd just leave you here for some wolves or bears to find as a midnight snack."
But despite his snark and the venom in her voice, they swayed onwards, tiny red droplets of blood on white quickly covered by evermore falling snowflakes. 
The hunting lodge was small, barricaded and looked like no one had come this way for months, perhaps years. 
A lucky find, truth be told, and Schwalbe left the Colonel panting and leaning against the side of the house as she pried away the rotting wood panels that crisscrossed over the entryway. 
Once inside, her boots trailed in a thick layer of snow, and only the tiny emergency flashlight around her neck provided them any light in the darkness. The lodge was tidy but smelled of dust and furs, an old table next to the cold fireplace, a tiny kitchenette and a singular bed pushed into the corner of the room. 
"Charming," she said drily, then turned to find Alejandro breathing hard behind her, shoulder against the doorframe. 
"Light the fire," he grunted, then shuffled over to the stained table. The old chair creaked ominously under his weight, even though he wasn't even wearing most of his gear. Schwalbe's eyebrows rose so high on her forehead that they almost disappeared. Alejandro stared back at her, dark eyes stormy as his jaw worked. 
"Por favor." He amended.
She huffed out a breath, then knelt in front of the fireplace and got to work. It wasn't perfect, but they'd been trained so thoroughly to survive in the wilderness that having some shelter and wood was a luxury. Schwalbe tried to ignore the pained huffs of the Colonel and the way her heart raced with worry, how her hands shook a little. 
As soon as the fire started crackling, helped along by an old tissue box, she waved him closer and he stood slowly, dragging the chair over. 
Every movement looked pained, but he hadn't lost all the colour in his face and still held his chin up. 
"Strip," she ordered him, undoing her jacket and rummaging through the strips of her heavy-duty harness that had pockets sown into it. It hugged her body tightly, and she struggled for a moment, cold fingers stiff from the ice and snow. 
"You should buy me dinner first, cariña," he drawled, undoing his belt onehanded to have more room to free his sweater and undershirt. "I like to get romanced before I show off the goods, you know."
"Please," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Keep those goods to yourself. I just need to have a look at that bullet wound, or otherwise, you'll probably die in my care and it will somehow be my fault as always."
"Always," he nodded seriously. She helped him pull off all the different layers as he winced and swore in low Spanish. 
Twisting his torso towards the firelight, she gently prodded at the torn flesh that continued to pump out dark blood with each breath. Thankfully, there was also an exit wound on his back, but it looked even worse.
"Bullet's out," she murmured, then rummaged around the miniature emergency kit for a needle and threat. There was a tiny tube of disinfectant, and his shirt had to suffice as the only clean-enough rag she could find. 
Alejandro suffered through it, clutching his knees so tightly that she thought he might break them and only occasionally exhaling sharply when the thin needle pulled at his skin too much as she weaved him back shut again. 
"Gracias," he bit out as she finished his back as well, the flesh swollen and red. The thin roll of gauze was hardly enough to wrap around his thick torso twice, and Schwalbe held her breath as she came so close to him, trying not to get distracted by the shower gel he must have used that afternoon, or the warmth his skin gave off as she wrapped her arms around him to tie the knot.
"You're welcome," she said seriously, then grinned. "Bet you're glad we're here together now, aren't you?"
Alejandro glowered, dark eyes burning into hers. She swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close their faces had become, and the way she practically knelt between his legs. 
No, no, triple no! She shouted at herself. Not the time, not the place, and definitely the least deserving man to get flustered about!
"I am," he said eventually, brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek and then rose in the next moment, wincing. 
"Where do you think you're going?" She hissed as he made a beeline for the door, unbothered by the fact that he still wore no shirt. 
"Taking a piss," he rolled his eyes, glancing at her over his shoulder. "And then I need time to think."
"About what?" 
Alejandro lazily gestured around the small hunting lodge.
"How we can make this charming place our future home," the sarcasm was dripping out with each word.
He's such an asshole. 
"I hope your dick freezes off," she muttered under her breath as he stepped outside, and for a split second, Schwalbe thought he might have heard. Then the front door fell shut behind him, a cold gust of icy air making the fire stutter before it resumed dancing. 
Schwalbe took the opportunity of being alone to strip down to her underwear, then hung up all the sodden clothes over the back of the abandoned chair and mantlepiece. The wool blankets that were folded neatly on the single bed were scratchy on her cold and damp skin, but she felt a thousand times better already, wrapped up in her cocoon. 
Alejandro barged back into the hut without announcing himself, teeth chattering and goosebumps all over his exposed chest. The look in his eyes was triumphant.
"Good news, I-"
The words died on his tongue as he took in her bundled-up form in front of the fireplace. His dark gaze flitted over to the sodden clothes hanging up, seemingly trying to figure something out before he cleared his throat.
"As I was saying, there is good news."
"Seargent Soap is waiting outside with a hot chocolate and fluffy socks?"
A tiny smile curled up the Colonel's mouth and he rolled his eyes as he came over to her, sitting down on the old fur rug slowly, wincing when he twisted his sides.
"Not that good, I'm afraid. But you left the car running, didn't you?"
"If you're about to start lecturing me about my carbon footprint then let me stop you right there, sir. I wasn't really thinking about the waste of fossil fuels when they shot our tires out."
Alejandro groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. 
"I'm only asking," he ground out. "Because much like the radio, our GPS signal and navigation history is traceable remotely."
"Oh."
"Yes."
They sat in silence for a while, watching the flames.
Schwalbe could feel the shivers going through Alejandro's body and sighed. She undid half of her cocoon of blanket, and draped it over his shoulders and back, with him reflexively holding onto it.
Dark eyes immediately found her face before dipping lower for just a split second, and Schwalbe was glad that her legs and knees concealed most of her exposed pink skin... and that she had left on her underwear most of all. 
"It is not necessary," Alejandro shook his head, trying to push the blanket back onto her and Schwalbe scowled.
"Your lips are blue, and all that teeth-chattering is disturbing my quiet time, Colonel. Just share the damn thing."
"Has anyone ever told you that you need to watch your tone around your superiors, Sergeant Major?" Alejandro grumbled, then scooted just a tiny bit closer until his arm and leg were pressed against hers and he pulled the blanket more securely over them both.
Schwalbe flashed him a grin that was all teeth and dimples.
"You do, sir. All the time."
"Apparently not often enough, eh?"
It made her snort, then she turned back towards the fire that burned the frost-stung skin on her face in the best way possible. After a brief silence, she nudged Alejandro in the side. The sharp hiss that followed made her eyes widen in alarm, and she quickly held onto his thigh as he tried not to curl away from her in pain.
"Oh mein Gott, I'm so so sorry, I forgot, shit, fuck," she swore, and the Colonel let out an amused, but pained laugh.
"You forgot that I was shot?"
Face burning with embarrassment, she continued to fuss over him until his breathing had evened out and he managed to sit up straight again, mock-glowering a little.
"So? What did you want to ask?"
"Just- If they can track our GPS, they'll come for us, right?"
Her voice was unusually small, face open and vulnerable as she huddled against him in the dark hut. 
Alejandro felt himself soften.
"I'm sure they would find it most unusual that we parked in the middle of the woods for hours and are not answering the radio. Rudy or Ghost will send someone, they know where we were from our last check-in."
Schwalbe nodded slowly, biting her lip as she frowned.
"You think you'll be able to hold on until the morning then? You're not in too much pain?"
Truth be told, his back and side ached like crazy, the steady thrumming of pain and wrongness a constant reminder that he'd gotten extremely lucky.
"I'll be fine," he reassured her, bumping his shoulder into hers. "Need to keep going so I can file that formal complaint over your behaviour after all."
Schwalbe laughed and for a moment, all he wanted to do was lean in and steal that sound from her mouth, taste it on his tongue. Which was highly inappropriate, not to mention unprofessional, and he was almost certain that one of her knives would end up between his ribs pretty quickly if he tried that. 
"If they don't come," she said, sobering up and looking up at him through her eyelashes. "I'll get the jeep tomorrow and go for help. We need to treat that wound properly, or otherwise, it'll get infected."
With a shrug, he agreed easily enough and they settled back in, warming their feet and hands as the room filled up with heat and the smell of burning logs. 
From the corner of his eye, he saw her head fall forward multiple times before she jerked back up, awake and alarmed until she realized that they were still safe. After a while, he nudged her and jerked his chin over to the bed, frowning.
"Go sleep, cariña."
To his surprise, she vigorously shook her head with a fierce scowl. 
"Absolutely not. You need to rest, Colonel. I'll keep watch, in case somebody finds us."
Her words had his heart fluttering a little from the worry in her tone, and Schwalbe blushed but set her jaw stubbornly, refusing to back down.
"No one will find us," he replied, brushing a stray curl behind her ear absentmindedly. "And unless you snore like a bear, I doubt they'd be very much intimidated by a sleeping soldier."
"I can stay awake!" She protested, and Alejandro groaned, praying for strength as he rolled his neck and frowned down at her.
"Fine, we'll both stay awake then. But perhaps it'll be more comfortable if you did that over there?"
He gestured towards the bed again, fighting against the smirk over her ever-darkening facial expressions. She looked ready to explode, and Alejandro had always loved fireworks.
But then she took a deep breath and smiled so sweetly that it left him dumbfounded for a moment. 
"Excellent idea. I think you need to stretch out your back and go easy on the stitches, so you should lie down as well."
It was a clear challenge because Schwalbe knew Alejandro would never be caught dead in the same bed as her. 
Which, well. You couldn't blame a girl for being a little salty about that, with Vargas being as infuriating as he was handsome. 
But the more rational part of her had always known that the Colonel lived and breathed his job, took etiquette seriously, and never acted out of turn towards any of the female soldiers in his care. He was a rare gem in this business, solely focused on making the world a better place. And-
"I suppose," he grunted, and was already halfway up in a pained huff before her brain caught up with what he'd said.
She quickly scrambled to her feet, exhaustion making her sway for a moment as she watched Alejandro wince over to the bed, the lack of painkillers clearly taking a toll on him. His back revealed several deep scars where it wasn't covered by the thin gauze, muscular shoulders bunching as he crawled onto the single bed and took up most of the space. 
Schwalbe stood, still clutching the wool blanket around her shoulders. Her heart was beating fast, and she hastily turned around when his dark eyes found hers again. She busied herself with restacking the fire in a way that would hopefully last for a few hours before it needed another batch of wood.
Eyeing her drying clothes, she ran a hand over the shirt, only to find it disgustingly damp still, the same as her jeans. 
Chewing her bottom lip anxiously, she resigned to her fate. Picking up the soft material, she was already slipping into it, one awkwardly positioned arm made sure that the Colonel didn't get more of an unwanted eyeful than he already had that night, when his deep voice rang out in the dark space.
"What are you doing?"
Schwalbe turned, confused, and saw that Alejandro had propped himself up against the wall with the only pillow available, eyes unreadable as he stared at her.
"Getting dressed?" It came out more like a question, even though it should have been real bloody obvious.
"You'll catch a cold, just use the blanket and let your clothes dry," he grumbled, arms crossed. Schwalbe raised one meaningful eyebrow at his own still-sodden cargo pants.
"I don't see you following your own advice, Colonel."
Alejandro rolled his eyes, head thumping against the wall.
"It's not the same, no? Besides, I need you to be healthy and fit tomorrow, in case they don't send an evac."
"How is it any different!" Schwalbe complained, but dropped the shirt back over the chair by the fire and bundled herself up in the blanket again before hesitantly walking over to the bed.
"I'm a man in charge of protecting you," he explained, slow like he was talking to a daft child. 
"And I'm a woman that kept you from bleeding out, so I don't see what your point is."
Alejandro clenched his jaw as she laid down next to him, and adamantly tucked the blanket tighter around her middle when Schwalbe tried to share again. Though he would never admit it out loud, the thought of her soft skin and thick thighs pressed up against him made him panic a little. It had been different when they sat in front of the fire somehow, but lying in the same tiny bed practically naked crossed way too many lines. 
"I wasn't going to bleed out," he grumbled, unable to stop talking as she wiggled around a bit to get comfortable. 
"Well if that's so then I'll just pull the stitches out again and go to sleep," she snarked back, but stilled when one heavy hand settled on her hip over the blanket, halting her movements.
"If you keep squirming you'll keep hurting me," Alejandro said quietly, and big eyes shot up to him full of guilt. "Just relax."
Schwalbe tried, pressed up against the Colonel with her face towards the fire and hyper-aware of every single inch of him.
"I'm not sleeping," she said, even though her eyes were already drifting shut.
"Of course not," he replied, a smile in his voice.
"And if you're cold you'll use the blanket."
"Mhm."
It was quiet then, both keeping an ear out for suspicious noises or movement beyond the single dark window, but all was well. Schwalbe kept nodding off, determined to be a good teammate and watch over the injured Colonel, but exhaustion eventually pulled her under.
Alejandro listened to the steady breathing next to him, and when he was one hundred per cent sure that she had fallen asleep, he let out a shaky exhale. His side and back hurt like hell, and he tried to alleviate some of the strain and pressure by slowly turning.
The only thing he saw of the infuriating woman in his bed were strands of hair, a nose peeking out of the scratchy woollen blanket and long eyelashes that fanned out against her skin. Alejandro looked down at her, feeling like a creep as he admired her round cheeks and the curve of her eyebrows that were relaxed for once.
I wish you would look at me like that when you're awake. But it was a futile thought, considering that the two of them had always been like cats and dogs. 
Pressed up against her as the big spoon, Alejandro finally found some much-needed relief, though his skin pulsated and he was fairly certain that the bandage was a little bloody by now. 
Schwalbe sighed and snuggled closer to him in her sleep, butt pressed against him and Alejandro closed his eyes for a moment, glad that they had a blanket between them and the pain of his gunshot wound was enough to keep him from having an embarrassingly obvious reaction to her proximity. 
Of course, the only woman whom I get a hard-on for these days would be you, he thought exasperatedly, annoyed with himself. And it was true. His last relationship had been years ago, the last casual sex? Lacklustre. He’d missed the sparks, though the one-night-stand had been lovely and eager, giving into him so easily. Which was nice for his ego, he wasn't above admitting that. He gazed back down at Schwalbe.
Bet you'd be a real handful in bed as well.
Before he thought himself into a dangerous hole he wouldn't be able to crawl out of, Alejandro turned his attention to the fire once more, arm resting above the young woman's head so he wouldn't crush her. The dancing flames and smouldering coals had something hypnotic to them, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy, the smell of soot and warm skin and wool oddly alluring.
Alejandro jerked back awake at the first tiny moan that Schwalbe let out, suddenly very aware of the way she was rubbing up against him in her sleep. Her naked shoulder was exposed, small hand clutching the old sheets underneath them. Sweat ran down her throat and, still half-asleep, hungry dark eyes followed the small drop down her collarbone and between her soft breasts, only concealed by the black sports bra. Her position squished them together and up in a way that made Alejandro swallow and avert his gaze, ashamed of himself. 
When she whimpered next, his attention shot back to her in alarm. Was she sick? Hurting?
He put one hand on her side to shake her awake, but then Schwalbe sighed again. 
"Ale-" she mumbled, butt pressed into his lower stomach, head curled up on his bicep. And when did that happen?
The hand on her side flexed, with Alejandro looking down at her flushed face, wide-eyed. She'd sounded so sweet, so- 
"-please."
Fucked out. 
"Cójeme," he swore quietly, trying to put some distance between them, sure that she wouldn't want him to see her like this. But the way she'd said his name like that, all breathless and-
"Harder, please-."
Alejandro watched her, enchanted by the way her lips parted, how her thighs must rub together beneath the blanket, her fast breathing. Is this how you'd look on my cock sweet thing? 
Shit. He had to stop her.
"Little bird," he said, his voice only a croak. "Wake up." 
Schwalbe squirmed some more against him, and Alejandro had to trap her under his arm, face close to her neck, or risk an elbow to his wound again. 
"Wha?" She slurred, slow to take in her surroundings.
"Wake up," he repeated, gently, swallowing. "You had- a nightmare."
"Alejandro?" Her voice was little more than a sigh, and she settled back down on his arm again, eyelids drooping. The sound of his name from her was like a shot of liquid arousal straight into his dick, and he closed his eyes for a moment, praying for composure. 
"Yeah, it's me," he said, voice rough. 
"Why did you stop?" She mumbled, grabbing his hand and moving it up her body and Alejandro thought he must be the one dreaming now. No, no, no, she's still asleep, she doesn't know-
"You were dreaming, it's not real," he murmured, trying to ignore the interested twitch of his cock as their joint fingers brushed over the softness of her breasts. Schwalbe faltered, confused.
"Hm?"
"You must have had a bad dream." Or a really good one, but he wanted to spare her the embarrassment. Alejandro didn't know if Schwalbe had someone waiting for her somewhere, and this was a point of no return. Though the thought of somebody else seeing her like this stabbed him with such a furious sting of jealousy that it made his lip curl.
"A dream?" She echoed, voice much clearer now and her whole body went stiff in his arms. Alejandro sighed. 
The young woman turned around so abruptly that it made him groan in pain from the sudden jolt of the bed. She sat upright, hair wild and chest heaving, blanket somewhere around her waist as she stared down at him, eyes as wide as saucers. A furious blush crept up her neck and chest, and she took in his sprawled-out form.
"I fell asleep," she stated, voice panicked. "Did I- what did I say?"
"Not much," he replied, and that was the truth after all. "You got a habit of sleeptalking?" He grinned, trying to lighten the situation, to distract them both and fuck, he really had to stop-
Schwalbe didn't answer him, face red. Taking pity on her, Alejandro propped himself up slowly, then scooted around her until his feet rested on the cold wood floor.
"What are you doing?" She whispered, and the soft sound reminded him of the way she had murmured his name so sweetly. He stood up slowly, and couldn't resist brushing one hand over her hair as he passed.
"Just putting some more wood in the fire. You should lie back down, the sun will rise soon."
He could feel her burning gaze on his back as he moved around the cabin, air blissfully warm now after hours of heating. He threw more logs in a pile, breathing deeply as he sat down on the chair, wooden legs scraping over the floor as he dragged it closer. Alejandro refused to look back towards the bed, cock still half-hard with shame running through him. This wasn't like him. This lack of control, the sudden hunger at every bit of exposed skin. 
The sound of bare feet coming towards him made him pinch the bridge of his nose, and Alejandro was ready to order her back to bed when a small soft hand brushed just underneath where the gauze dug into his skin painfully now.
"You bled through it," Schwalbe said, then rounded his slumped-forward form until she was standing right between the chair and the fireplace. "Let me have another look at it."
Alejandro stared up at her, unable to stop thinking of the body hidden underneath that stupid fucking blanket. The way the firelight illuminated her skin.
She pushed him back by the shoulder, and he allowed it. Small, deft fingers worked open the knot over his stomach, and then Schwalbe peeled away the fabric, making him wince. Her eyes never left his wounds, dusting some brown powder over it from a small tub, then she reached for her newly-dried shirt. 
"Wait-" he protested, but then she'd already ripped it down the seams with brutal efficiency, uncaring about ruining her clothes. She rolled her eyes.
"Layering up is not as important as keeping this from killing you."
Schwalbe continued to rip small long strips, and Alejandro watched through half-lidded eyes as her shoulders were finally exposed again from all her movements. She leaned forward, apparently uncaring, then circled his waist just like she had done hours ago, gently wrapping him back up. Repeating that same motion three times, Alejandro felt oddly protected and secured with the makeshift bandages.
There was a pause between them, a breath that was held as their eyes met. Schwalbe was still kneeling in front of the chair, gazing up at him from behind her eyelashes and looking like Alejandro himself had stumbled into a wet dream of his own. Thick thighs and soft stomach, smooth skin and dimples, black underwear complimenting her skintone. Fuck. He was so screwed.
"What did you dream about?" He asked, voice hoarse. The fire in her eyes burned brighter, and Schwalbe pushed herself up higher with one hand on his thigh. They stared at each other, then her eyes flickered down towards his mouth.
"I think you know."
"But I want to hear you say it."
Schwalbe's mouth quirked up in a small grin.
"So bossy, Colonel."
His fingers itched from the need to reach out and grab any exposed skin available to his hungry eyes, but he reigned that desire in, afraid he was completely misreading her body language. 
"I dreamt of you," she admitted, face flushing once more but still holding his gaze. 
"Did you?" His voice was barely above a whisper now. She nodded slowly, then leaned in closer. 
Draped over his lap like a cat, with her breasts pressed into his stomach, she rested her chin on his sternum, looking up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. How she managed to look both submissive and dominant, both sweet and fuckable, he couldn't even begin to comprehend.
They didn't speak, only looked at each other for a heartbeat longer, and then Alejandro surged down just as she came up, mouths clashing messily. Schwalbe whined, hands in his hair as he grabbed her waist and pulled her between his legs more firmly, bending her backwards as they kissed to grab a handful of her ass and knead it.
His side and back hurt and burned like a bitch, but Alejandro couldn't stop, couldn't get enough of her sweet tongue in his mouth. How soft she became for him, the little spitfire that usually got on his last nerve. 
She panted into his mouth, thumbs brushing along his jawline as he devoured her, clinging onto his shoulders. Call it post-ambush crazy or belated combat horniness, but god damn. Schwalbe was aching for him. Maybe it had always been there between them, underneath all the comments and eye rolls and exasperated sighs. 
The last traces of her dream intermingled with the reality of Alejandro against her, his massive hands kneading her butt in a way that made her core ache and legs tremble. When he winced again, she jerked away from his hungry mouth, only to have him attack her neck and shoulders instead.
"Ale-," she panted, eyes pressed shut in pleasure as he sucked into her jaw. "Wait."
His hands disappeared as quickly as he had put them on her, and the Colonel leaned back in alarm, eyes wide as he pressed himself against the back of the chair despite his injuries.
"I'm sorry, fuck, I-"
"Shh," she tried to calm him, rubbing her hands up his thighs as they stared into each other's eyes once more. "I would show you what exactly my dream was about in a heartbeat, but you're hurt. I don't think it's a good idea."
"That wild, hm?" He grumbled, longingly. She smirked back.
Alejandro grabbed her face in between his hands once more, and leaned forward only a little this time, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. Schwalbe felt her stomach do a backflip at the careful way his mouth explored hers, how he sucked on her lower lip and cradled her head like she was delicate.
He kissed along Schwalbe's cheekbone when he was satisfied with the amount of attention he'd given her, then murmured in her ear.
"Maybe you can demonstrate it, and next time, I'll know what you like."
Next time. She pressed her thighs together at the dark promise in his voice and squirmed on the floor, suddenly just as shy as she had been when he'd woken her up. 
Alejandro followed her shift in demeanour with great interest, mourning the way his body warred between his arousal and pain. His half-chub wasn't going to go away with her looking like this, but he doubted he'd manage to perform for her in the ways he wanted. 
Her small hand wrapped around his, and he was reminded of the way she'd dragged his fingers over her body earlier, how her butt had been pressed against him so deliciously. 
Alejandro had assumed that their journey would end over her tits, that she wanted him to play with her nipples or massage the soft skin there. His mouth went dry just thinking about it, but then she pulled his hand even higher until his index and middle finger rested against her mouth.
Still looking at him through lowered lashes, she licked the tips of his fingers slowly, like a cat. Electricity ran through him at the sensation, the way her pink tongue darted out to taste his skin. And before he had time to beg her for more, she sucked both fingers in. 
Alejandro groaned, leaning back as she sucked his fingers like she would his cock, looking both so innocent and demonic that he knew he was a goner. How the fuck was he supposed to look her in the eyes from now on and not think of how perfect this moment was, despite everything that had happened the previous evening? How badly he wanted to ruin her behind closed doors, or be ruined by her?
Schwalbe's eyes rolled back at the sound of him, and it took him a moment to notice that she had snuck her hands between her thighs. Playing with herself as she bobbed her head back and forth slowly, a little bit of drool running down her chin when he pressed his fingers down on her clever tongue.
"So messy for me, aren't you?" He murmured, kind of glad that he had the pain in his body to keep him grounded, to have him aware of how her hips twirled slowly against her own fingers and not be lost in the desire threatening to take over his brain. 
He lifted his other hand, circled her hard nipples through the thick fabric of her sports bra, then pinched them. Schwalbe squeaked, and arched into him for more. Alejandro grabbed a generous handful, kneading it roughly as she panted and squirmed, still sucking his fingers as her own hands stayed hidden beneath her soaked panties, rubbing at herself with desperation. 
Alejandro's cock twitched, and he hissed as his abdominal muscles contracted. When she arched back into him a second time, he cocked his head with a sly smile.
"Something you want, linda? Mouth too busy for once, isn't it? I think I like you best like this," he whispered against her cheek, pressing a soft kiss there as her breath hitched and she whined. 
But, since it wasn't in her nature to play nice, she surprised him once more by yanking one of her hands free and grabbing the wrist of the hand that was still busy kneading her perfect tits. He vaguely registered how wet her much smaller fingers were, but then she'd already guided his palm to her throat, closing their hands over it.
Alejandro felt her rapidly fluttering pulse under his fingers, how her throat worked and she swallowed around his fingers like an expert.
Schwalbe could watch the shift inside the Colonel in real-time. How his focused gaze became hazy, how the control slipped into greed. And god, his hand around her throat was massive and solid and so fucking hot, she was about to cum just from the exhilaration of it all. 
She'd dreamed of riding him like this, over that exact chair. That he'd let her suck him off until he was close and her jaw hurt, and then made her work for it as he lounged back and held her steady. The memory made her push her fingers deeper inside of her and she used her left hand to balance herself on his thigh, trying to focus.
But then Alejandro started applying the tiniest bit of pressure over her throat, withdrawing his fingers from her mouth only to claim her lips in the filthiest kiss she had ever received. He pulled her closer like that, and the pressure made her mind go fuzzy from the trust and care he put into the gesture. A sharp sting to her butt made her come back to reality, and he swallowed her laugh with his own grinning mouth.
"Didn't say you could stop, did I?" He rasped against her lips, and only then did she realize that the frantic circles over her clit had slowed to a stop, so she renewed her efforts, mewling as he watched her. His eyes had lost all colour in the low light of the fire, and Alejandro looked like a fallen angel, half-naked and bruised and gripping her throat and ass so possessively, she wished he'd never stop.
Her orgasm crashed into her all at once, knees hurting from kneeling so long, thighs trembling and nipples aching to be touched as she cried out, gushing slick all over her fingers. 
Alejandro watched and watched, drinking her in before kissing her mouth sweetly, rubbing over her asscheeks tenderly. She kissed him back with longing, tears prickling the corner of her eyes. 
The hold over her throat loosened, and his hand wandered into her hair instead as they kissed, gentle now. 
The gravity of what they'd just done loomed in the back of her mind, but Schwalbe found that she didn't care. She had never wanted anyone like she wanted Alejandro, in a challenging kind of way. 
He infuriated her, he was condescending, he was capable. She wanted to prove herself to him, wanted him to see her for who she was and never take her for granted, to never see her as just another soldier to go on missions with.
No, if she was going to have him for real, and she really really wanted to, then only if he continued to look at her with the same feral hunger and longing. She wouldn't settle for anything less. 
"Next time," she echoed his earlier words, pecking the corner of his mouth. His mouth twisted in a tiny smirk. "If you behave."
Alejandro gaped at her, then threw his head back and laughed. 
In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side With your hands between your thighs Stop and wait a sec Oh when you look at me like that my darling What did you expect I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck Or I did last time I checked Arctic Monkeys - 505
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TRANSLATIONS
niña zonzo - silly/stupid girl Por favor. - Please. Gracias - thank you cariña - darling/honey Oh mein Gott - Oh my god Cójeme - Fuck me linda - sweetheart
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This was so much fun and a long time coming. Hah. Get it? Like them circling around each other- forget it.
ANYWAY, I would love some feedback on how we all liked (or hated? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻) this dynamic!
If you enjoyed it, you can find my COD masterlist here, and my previous Alejandro oneshot here. I seem to reserve my longer pieces for him exclusively so far 👀
Hope y'all had a great day + night, until next time! - A✨
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 month
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Poly seb Charles omg
I just know reader is such a brat and brat tamer seb cannot deal with her attitude but Charles is always falling for her pouty smile and big eyes
A/N: Reader is 100% a brat and Seb doesn't put up with it, but one look at Charles and he's putty in her hands also this set in the last year of Seb and Charles being teammates
"Watch the attitude," Sebastian threatens, tightening his hand on the back of your neck, you hiss a little before deflating and leaning into his hand showing him you've given up. "Be a good girl," He whispers, knowing you shouldn't be acting out, especially in the Ferrari garage.
Seb has just finished his qualifying while Charles was just climbing out of the car. Noticing your other boyfriend you get an idea, you knew it would land you in trouble, but you were craving your favorite pasta dish and Sebastian didn't want to indulge you. He was the one to give into your whims and Seb was the one to ground you both.
You once noticed a pretty Ferrari at the factory and you just gave puppy eyes to Charles and it ended up in your driveway under an hour. Sebastian was annoyed while you squealed and hugged and kissed Charles who blushed. You had the 2nd Ferrari driver curled around your finger while you were curled around Sebastian's.
"Don't even think about it," Sebastian grumbles, seeing where your eyes have trailed too. "I wasn't going to do anything, just give him a kiss." You grumble, but Sebastian just chuckles knowing damn well that wasn't true. "Charlie," You call which has the young Ferrari head snap too you, helmet still on.
He is quick to take it off and runs over, leaning over the barrier and giving you a soft kiss, before placing multiple kisses on your cheek and forehead. "Seb, don't hold her neck so tight," Charles gently pries Sebastian's fingers away and kisses his hand smiling which has Seb's hard expression melting.
"You did so good, baby," Charles lights up under the praise and pulls Seb close and you know one more praise and you can get what you want from him. "And looked so pretty too," You giggle which has Charles blush and steal a kiss from you. "Charlie?" You ask, tugging on the waist of his fireproofs.
"Yes, love?" Turning away from Sebastian's wandering eyes and giving you his full attention. "I know you two have that super important team dinner, but do you think you can skip it and take me to that cute little restaurant?" You don't even wait a breath before Charles is shaking his head yes.
"Of course, we aren't needed at the dinner much anyways. Just to say hello, so we can stop on our way. I'll have Joris make us reservations, 8pm good for you both?" You smile innocently and look at Seb who just stares at you unimpressed. "Yes, it's perfect for me, I'll even wear your favorite red dress," Both boys eyes turn dark as you giggle and pull away skipping out of the garage with what you wanted.
912 notes · View notes
yunjardi · 5 months
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my heart bel♡ngs to daddy [series]
[young sugar daddy!jake × fem!reader]
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[click here for this series' masterlist to read previous chapters, general warnings, and playlist]
[!!chapter warnings!!: smut [mdni], DADDY KINK, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, oral, gentle sex, cockwarming, angst, crying, arguing, minor possessiveness (???), mentions of negative body image near the end, some fluff, lmk if i missed anything!]
*sorry for any grammar errors
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-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-♡-
chapter 16: the ugly truth?
"y/n, please, i really do love you," jake begged you breathlessly, "you're seriously such a big part of my life. what would i ever do without a friend like you?"
a friend.
a friend.
friends.
that's what you and jake are, huh?
the bubbly and shocked feeling that took over your body after hearing jake tell you that he loves you quickly fizzled away once jake uttered that 6 letter word.
that stupid 6 letter word.
how were you even supposed to react to this?
well, you reacted the only way your body would let you.
with anger.
"jake, i need you to do something for me, okay?" jake nodded as you took a deep breath inward before continuing, "once you walk out that door, never come back again. don't bother contacting me either because i don't wanna hear it. friends don't do what we do. you led me on, you asshole. now get out."
"y/n, i meant- i-"
"i said i don't wanna hear it!" you raised your voice, helpless tears falling again, "i-i think it's best if you leave now." your voice softened as tears uncontrollably rolled down your face, causing jake to cry too.
"i'm not going anywhere, y/n," jake declared with a stern tone, "i'm not letting you push me away, not after everything we've been through." you scoffed. "after everything we've been through? you're unbelievable, jake. i'm not gonna fall for your pretty-boy antics anymore, so you can forget about all that."
jake was at a loss for words. he'd never seen you be so cold before, not to him, not to anyone.
"listen, let's both just calm down. i know we're both heated right now, and we shouldn't be arguing when we're mad like this and-"
"will you shut up with your preaching and just go already?!" you yelled out in frustration, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a ball and be left alone. you didn't want to face the man who was actively breaking your heart into tiny little pieces any longer.
"fine," jake gave in, not saying another word and simply walking out of your house.
secretly, you wanted him to keep fighting for you even though it wouldn't make sense if he did.
the millisecond you heard the door shut, you immediately began bawling your eyes out.
you had no idea what was gonna happen next, if anything that is.
all you could do is sob helplessly in the same spot he left you in.
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you made sure to sob your eyes until you could no longer feel tears in your eyes before heading to work with heavier makeup than usual to cover your tear-stained skin.
calling your manager beforehand, you let her know that you were able to work from opening to closing for which she was quite pleased to hear.
you needed to be as distracted as possible so that you wouldn't think of jake's pretty, yet also cute, puppy face, and the way his hair flowed whenever he'd turn to look at you, and also-
damn, you were already failing your mission miserably.
you managed to pull yourself together on the bus ride to work and walk into the bar without any trouble.
lucky for you, the bar extra was packed this evening which meant you'd be too busy running around to think about anything besides alcohol and more alcohol.
there was no room to think about how much you missed jake's presence, how much you wanted him to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be okay, and you definitely weren't thinking about how much you missed the way his scent blinded you whenever he pulled you into an embrace.
it seemed nothing else could gain control over your clouded mind the way jake does. the way that only he could possibly do.
you were so distracted by faded thoughts of him that you nearly spilled drinks multiple times during your shift and nearly dropped a crystal wine glass floor because of how zoned out you were.
luckily, your mishaps were enough to keep you on your toes plus distracted for a teensy amount of time and by the time you checked the clock, customers were already on their way out for closing hours to come.
you volunteered to stay later than usual to lend a hand and clean up around the bar as an excuse to stay away from your thoughts for as long as possible. your manager found it strange, but she was thankful nonetheless to have some extra hands on deck helping out.
waving goodbye to your manager after cleaning tables and counters, you finally exited the building with a deep sigh and began to walk to the bus stop.
as soon as the night time air hit you, you were suddenly plagued with the most extreme wave of loneliness you'd ever experienced. you feared that you would feel lonelier at night because of the jake situation, and you hated that those fears were steadily becoming a reality.
your brain began to run laps as you started to wonder how things could have turned out if you'd been less nit-picky.
maybe you overreacted. maybe you made something out of nothing. maybe everything was your fault.
you couldn't help but sigh.
the walk home from the bus stop was when you finally let all the tears you were holding in pour from your eyes. you almost couldn't see where you were going due to the tears blurring your vision, but you eventually got to your house. your eyes jaded with tears, you turned the corner to enter your house only to be greeted by a figure sitting at your doorstep.
none other than jake.
he simply could not bear the pain of you not being by his side. he was determined to get through to you; whatever it would take, he'd do it ten fold. jake refused to let you go.
ever since you popped into his life, his greatest fear became losing you, and he refused to let that fear become a reality. he swore to himself that he'd do anything and everything to prove himself to you.
"w-what are you doing here?" you questioned jake between sobs, "i though i t-told you to stay away."
"i'm not going anywhere, y/n. hell, i'll sleep out here all night if i have to," jake declared firmly, his bloodshot and teary eyes gleaming in the moonlight, "trust me, you're not getting rid of me that easily." his tone turned slightly sly.
"jake..." you sighed out, "come inside. how long have you been sitting out here?" you asked whilst opening the front door. he shook his head, not wanting to answer as if it wasn't important for you to possess the knowledge of his time camping at your doorstep.
you let him step inside before you, locking the door once you both got inside.
"so, what is it?" you questioned him again with a sigh, "are you here to collect your things or something?" you tried to keep your voice steady, not wanting to show just how badly you were hurting.
"why would i? it's not like i'm never coming back," jake responded with the same stern tone as before, "you told me to leave and never come back, but i know you better than that, y/n. we both know that we're not just gonna let each other slip through our fingertips. well, at least i'm not going to.
you hated the ease that jake had when it came to seeing right through you and/or literally reading your mind.
he always joked that his sixth sense was 'reading y/n's mind,' but it was scarily true, especially in this moment.
pondering on how attentive jake had always been toward you was enough to have you bawling your eyes out again. thinking about all the little things he did for you every since the beginning made your heart feel like it was about to burst.
jake cautiously stepped toward you, testing the waters to see if you'd push him away if he got any closer, but to his surprise, you didn't. he took this as an opportunity to hold you in his arms, and he was relieved that you even let him do so.
he let out the most intense sigh of relief at the feeling of your head falling against his chest, certain that you were able to hear how quickly his heart pounded.
"shh," jake whispered quietly as he held you tightly, "i'm here, princess. don't cry. you're gonna make me start crying again, baby." you simply melted at his touch as he gently rocked you from side to side, comfort rushing through your body. once you calmed down, you were able to wipe your tears away from your eyes and look up at his tear-stained face. the sight of his upset expression made you bury your head back into his chest, a slight guilt creeping up on you from making him cry along with you.
but you began to feel guilt for another unrelated matter.
unfortunately, you were seconds away from ruining the endearing moment because you couldn't help yourself from expressing your thoughts.
"you're all dirty now," you uttered a soft whine as you wiped a few stray tears away from your eyes, "i was all over the bar cleaning up which made me all gross, and now you're probably all dirty now too."
all of jake's clothes were expensive, and knowing that the hoodie he wore most definitely had remnants of unsanitary bar grime, makeup, and tears made you shudder with unease. his cashmere prada sweater would definitely be unforgiving when it came to attempting to get makeup stains cleaned off of the material.
"is that really what you're worried about, silly?" jake asked with a refreshing yet shy smile whilst tilting your chin upward to look up at him. nodding, you felt your face shifting into a pout yet again and wanted to hide your face as a result.
"give me a second to wash up, please?" you gave jake another pout, embarrassed as you wiped the last stray tears away from your face, tears finally coming to a halt.
"only if i'm allowed to join," jake remarked with a cheeky expression, slightly too soon.
"fine."
--------------------------------------------------------
you should've seen this coming.
you should've known that you'd be under the warm water, letting it trickle down your skin, getting lost in a make-out session with the man who can't seem to make up his mind.
you could never seem to gain a sense of morality when the subject of the situation is jake.
you let him overtake you physically and mentally.
there was something about seeing you covered in droplets of warm water whilst steam surrounded the two of you that steadily made jake's desire for you grow deeper and more intense.
jake never knew until now that he had a 'thing' for seeing you with body wash suds all over you; it was like he unlocked a new part of his already-filthy brain.
"hey," jake uttered between kisses as his hands explored your soapy body, "everything i said earlier, it was all a misunderstanding. i love you, y/n, i really do. i just got nervous saying it out loud and started talking out of my ass as a result. please trust me when i tell you that i love you so badly."
your kiss with jake deepened, shutting him up before he could say anything else.
you didn't feel like responding, mostly because you didn't know what to say, so you simply kept kissing him as his hands continued to wander themselves around your body, unknowingly making your core heat up.
as soon as things began to wind down, you turned off the water, handing jake a towel as well as taking one for yourself.
upon arriving to your bedroom, the two of you put on some comfortable clothes as if you weren't about to get undressed in the next five minutes.
you two found your way onto the bed, kissing each other on the lips softly until the situation turned more erotic.
"you're so pretty," jake mumbled into your lips, "all mine." you nodded your head at his comment, "yours." jake seemed to be pleased with your response, it becoming more apparent that his boxers were growing tight.
you let your hands feel down his torso until you got lower, and lower, and eventually down to the waistband of his boxers, ready to take them off after only a few short minutes of them being on. jake followed suit, hastily getting your panties off and discarding them onto the nightstand.
continuing the intimate kiss, jake began to rub gentle circles against your sensitive clit whilst you took his hard length into one of your hands, slowly stroking it at the same pace as he touched you. amorous moans were the only sounds filling the room as jake smoothly slipped a finger inside your needy hole. he moved his hand slowly, feeling every bit of your walls against his slender finger as you began to moan helplessly into his mouth, gripping his cock and stroking it a little harder than before. the two of you moaned in tandem, using your hands to please one another until you reached your limits.
"wait," jake quickly broke the kiss, causing you to look at him as he still continued to rub your clit, "i need a taste."
his statement made your face flush red as you let go of his throbbing cock, letting it fall against his toned lower abdomen as he slid his finger out of your pussy, now positioning you comfortably against the headboard.
"don't be shy, princess," jake chuckled at your coy demeanor, "i've seen you before, silly, and i love what i see." he arguably made you more shy once he parted your legs, biting his lip at the sight of your wet cunt. jake wasted no time, going in for a taste half a second later. the feeling of his tongue against your warmth making a moan escape your lips as your fingers tugged on his pretty brown hair.
"fuck, that's so good, daddy," you mewled as his tongue worked wonders against your hole. you could feel the way he smirked against your clit every time he earned a little moan from you. jake practically lived to please you whether you realized it or not. "i need your cock, please, please, please?" you begged as he stuck his tongue into your soaking hole. jake looked up from between your legs, smirking at how needy his tongue made you.
jake positioned you onto your side, wanting to hold you while he fucked himself into you. he held your leg up, stroking his cock a few times before letting his tip enter you. you squirmed at the feeling, letting out a little moan at the feeling of his thick tip passing through you. slowly, he inched his length into you, his breath hitching at the way your walls clenched around him.
"good girl, so tight for daddy," jake breathed out as he began to thrust softly.
you could feel him so deep inside your cunt, your core quickly burning up at the sensation of his tip steadily bumping against your sweet spot.
jake somehow managed to fuck you like a whore whilst holding you like you were his precious princess.
his thrusts were gentle but very affective, making you twitch as you brought your hand down to your clit, wanting badly to reach your climax.
"daddy, right there," you whined quietly as you brought your hand from your clit up to his spare hand, bringing it around to cup one of your boobs. jake moaned at the way you held his hand against your chest, his core tightening and heating up alongside yours. the stimulation was too much. you found yourself cumming around the base of his thick cock, coating his pretty member with your arousal. "such a good girl," jake praised you as he brought his hand down to your lower abdomen, "you're so pretty when you cum for me."
"your turn, jakey," you urged him by reaching down to play with his balls, causing his head to fall back with a loud groan. he had no choice but to fill you up, ropes of cum shooting deep into your pussy as you both moaned at the feeling.
calming down from your orgasms, you two stayed in the position you were in before inevitably falling asleep as jake kept you close to him throughout the entire night as you both slept.
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the morning after, you felt deviously groggy as if you'd gotten drunk the night before.
the first thing you noticed was jake being gone.
for a second your heart shattered yet again, but your drama queen moment was interrupted when you noticed a handwritten letter on the bedside table.
my lovely princess,
i had to head home early this morning, princess, please don't alarmed by me not being there. i'm not sure if you're working this evening, but it would be great if you could stop by my place beforehand if you are.
-jakey <3
you let out a sigh of relief knowing that jake didn't leave out of pettiness or anything like that.
you rolled out of bed earlier than you would've liked to so that you could go and visit jake before heading to your shift. you couldn't help but wonder why he wanted you to be there. shrugging it off, you quickly got changed into your work uniform, the usual tight and cropped button-up that you barely had buttoned, and a short skirt.
after getting into your work clothes, you put on a significantly less amount of makeup than yesterday before feeding the fish and slipping on a pair of pretty black heels that were easy to walk in.
and you, of course, couldn't forget to bring (one of) your favorite bags that, of course, jake bought for you. since you believed that your recent fight with jake was now behind the both of you, you felt comfortable with using the clothes he'd gifted you throughout your time together.
feeling thankful for the fact that you made up with jake, it was now time to head to his place.
--------------------------------------------------------
after the lengthy train journey to jake's house, you walked up to his door and rang the fancy doorbell, waiting for him to come to the door.
you were greeted with a soft kiss from a handsome-as-always jake before he looked you up and down, seeming surprised and shocked at your skimpy work clothes as if he hadn't seen them before.
i mean come on, he literally met you while you were wearing these clothes.
"here," jake reached over to you, buttoning your shirt up higher and practically trying to cram your boobs back into your shirt in the process. he could've sworn they'd gotten bigger, but maybe it was just his dirty imagination. "much better," he sighed with relief. you couldn't help but giggle at his antics; you never saw the day where he'd but buttoning your shirt up.
"you're so silly, puppy," you chuckled as you gazed into his sparkly eyes, completely entranced by his handsome face.
you two stood there, your arms around his neck and his around your waist until you were brutally interrupted by a loud "ahem!"
startled, your head snapped in the direction in which the voice came from.
you couldn't believe your eyes.
"jake, w-what's going on here?" you questioned him with urgency as you stepped away from him, losing physical contact.
it had been so long since you've seen her face that for a second you believed that your eyes were playing tricks on you.
there she was, stood right in front of you.
the girl from the bar.
"y/n, just give me a chance to explain myself," jake begged to which you motioned for him to go on as you tried not to roll your eyes, "i just thought that maybe by bringing you both here, you'd bring this drama to a close, call a truce or something, you know?"
"you're joking, right?" you questioned him a second time, feeling like you were about to lose your mind, "there's no drama that needs to be 'closed,' and i don't appreciate the fact that you're bringing me face-to-face with someone who belittled me for months and went on to physically assault me. there is no drama; she's just- she's- a bitch! that's what she is, and i never want to see her again, jake!" your tone was firm, clear, and serious until you panicked after calling her a bitch. you couldn't help but feel your stomach fall into the depths of hell as you tried to hold back tears.
"now just who the fuck do you think you are, y/n?" she began aggressively moving closer to where you and jake were standing, causing your body to tense up, her knowing your name while you didn't even know hers making you fear her presence even more, "you- you're the bitch in this situation, so don't you get it twisted! why are you in jake's life in the first place? all you've done is take up all his time while you sit around and spend his money all while ruining his reputation! before you were around, he dedicated his whole life to his family's business, and once you waltzed in, he started wasting his time taking care of you like a liability. you're ruining him whether you want to admit it or not!"
her words brought you to a standstill. why did she seem to know so much about you and jake's relationship? more importantly, why does she think she has the right to say these things? more, more importantly, why hasn't jake said a single word?
"who are you to say any of that?" you blurted out furiously, "why are you so concerned about what we're doing? just mind your business! none of this would be happening if you just decided to leave him alone! leave us alone while you're at it! blaming me for random shit isn't going to change a thing; jake and i both know what's going on between him and i, and that's none of your concern. leave me out of this."
trying to remain calm, you took a deep breath only for her to start coming closer to a point where you could smell her flowery perfume.
"his business is my business," she stated firmly, looking into your soul via your eyes, "you better believe and internalize when i say that you're a no-good, useless commoner who could only dream of living the life we do. just because you think you're in cahoots with jake doesn't mean you're gonna snake your way into his life, you got that? you're just a bit of fun for him, someone he can use for a little while before he realizes that you're just a pathetic commoner who he shouldn't associate with. god, when will you realize that you're just an object that he can put his arm around and fuck when he has nothing else to do?"
at this time, you wished that your ears were deceiving you; you truly couldn't believe that anyone could say something as cruel as that seemingly without feeling any shame or guilt.
you also couldn't believe that you were basically having a cat-fight with another woman over a man. you never ever thought you'd get to this point, but jake... he just means so much to you to a point where you couldn't bear the thought of someone trying to take him away from you. god you felt pathetic for letting a guy take control of your emotions like this, but you couldn't help yourself; jake was so precious to you.
"soyeon, that's enough!" jake suddenly spoke up, shocking both of you.
well, at least now you finally learned her name after all this time.
"i'm not just gonna sit here and let you say disrespectful things to y/n! she did nothing wrong, and i'm sick of you thinking that she did. she's not ruining anything, and she's especially not ruining me! just leave her and i alone and find someone else."
"seriously, why did you bring her here?" you asked jake quietly, "you knew she wasn't going to be civil about this."
"y/n," jake looked into your eyes as he spoke, "i really thought things would be settled. in hindsight, i should've seen this coming, but i never meant to hurt you by doing this."
she seemed to smirk at the way you finally began to tear up.
"well you did," you spoke out, gently wiping your waterline to avoid messing up your makeup, "i honestly don't know how much more i can take. you told me that you loved me last night; was it all a lie? were you just sweet-talking me? i don't know what you want anymore, jake."
at this point, jake's feelings were as clear as mud.
"look at me. please don't cry," jake begged, wanting so desperately to wipe your tears away, soyeon watching the situation from just a few paces away.
"see, there he goes again," her voice making you tense up again, "taking care of you like a child. it's sad to watch, really. you're only stressing him out by acting like this, so go take your tears somewhere else-"
"haven't we heard enough from you already?!" jake raised his voice at her, "look, if you can't suck it up and leave her alone, then get out and never show your face around her nor i ever again!"
"how could you say that, jake?" she began crying out, "if it weren't for her, things would've played out perfectly! if it weren't for her, we'd be married!"
"m-married?" you managed to speak out as you looked over at jake in disbelief. after that, you couldn't get another word out, only mustering up the courage to take your phone and wallet out of the bag you brought with you (that was, of course, from jake) and leave it on a chair before walking out the door.
no matter how many times jake called your name, you couldn't find the courage to turn around. hearing the words that she said made your entire world crumble around you.
marriage? is that why he invited you to his house to meet her formally?
whatever.
you didn't want to think about it anymore.
you wished that jake's front yard and driveway wasn't such a strenuous walk because you could still hear him calling your name endlessly, begging you to come back.
"let her go, jake," you heard soyeon's loud and mocking voice, "she doesn't understand this lifestyle, and she never will."
maybe she was right. maybe you'd never understand because you weren't born into a rich and noble family like they were.
you couldn't hear much else once you got to the end of the excruciatingly long driveway, only being able to hear a loud "get out" that you presumed came from jake.
after finally making it out of his residence, you took a second to tell your boss that something came up and that you couldn't come in after all. luckily, she was understanding and thankfully didn't make you explain what went on which was a relief.
at that, you took your sad ass back home and planned to stay there for the next couple of days.
--------------------------------------------------------
"that's absolutely insane," yeji's jaw dropped over the phone.
you decided to call her and tell her the sequence of events because, come on, you can't hide anything from your best friend.
"and i'm a wreck over it," you admitted lowly as you spoke into the phone, "i think i just need some time to myself, you know? after all, i've spent virtually all my time with him since we met, so maybe some time apart will do us some good."
"who knows, maybe he'll finally make up his mind," yeji shrugged before letting you go, reminding you that you could call her any time no matter what.
you sighed softly once the call ended, feeling more alone than ever.
stupidly, you decided to open up his designated drawer in your bedroom where he kept some clothes and put on one of his hoodies. the smell of his clothes only made your heart shatter into even smaller pieces as you curled up on your bed in hopes that you could get some sleep, your eyes sore and tired from crying.
a sudden panic filled your body once you heard the sound of your front door being unlocked, causing you to jolt up from your bed.
"y/n, are you home? it's just me," you heard a familiar voice call out to you from the living room. you peeked from underneath your covers to see jake standing before you, holding out his hand for you to grab it, but you refused.
as much as you wanted to curl up in bed with jake and act like everything was dandy, simply seeing his face made you start crying like a baby.
jake's heart shattered into a million pieces at the sight of you crying.
he did this.
he fucked up.
and he was unsure if he could do anything to fix it.
"g-get out," you managed to stutter through your tears, "y-you're a liar; you d-don't love m-me. s-shouldn't you be g-getting ready f-for a w-wedding with h-her or s-something?"
"for fuck's sake, y/n, i'm not marrying her!" jake raised his voice at you unintentionally, "i don't even want her in my life, so what makes you think that i'd do anything of the sort?" you could only let out sniffles in response, letting tears trickle down your face as jake slowly approached you.
upon seeing you up close, he noticed that you were clad in one of his hoodies which only made his heart soften even more. he couldn't stop himself from climbing into your bed and sitting next to you, his back against the headboard as he looked down at you.
you turned away from him, not wanting him to see your puffy, tear-stained face.
"is it because she's prettier than me?" you asked, your emotions suddenly spilling out, "because her figure is better than mine? or maybe how her hair always looks perfect? is it the way that she always dresses up no matter where she goes? or how you and her probably have a lot more in common in a sense that you two both come from noble and rich families? if you really think i'm an unattractive nobody just say it."
you couldn't see it, but jake's face was in a state of shock, absolutely refusing to believe that your mind came up with all of those ideas.
"you don't really think that, right?" jake asked softly, getting his answer from the way that you stayed still and silent, "princess, how could i ever? don't you know that i only have eyes for you? please, look at me." you felt jake's warm hand meet your shoulder, helping you turn your body to face him.
you sat up against the headboard next to him, your eyes glistening as you looked into his eyes that seemed to be saddened upon finding out what was going on in the depths of your mind. jake couldn't help but stop and wonder how long you'd been feeling that way, and it caused a sinking feeling to bubble up within him.
"if there's one thing i want you to know right now, it's that i think you're the most gorgeous woman i've ever laid my eyes upon," jake declared, pulling you closer and closer, "i don't care what you say, i don't care if you disagree because this is my truth." jake eventually pulled you close enough to where you were sat on his lap, your forehead against his while he lowly mumbled sweet nothings to you.
"you know, ever since i first put my hands on you, i never wanted to touch anyone else," jake admitted in a whisper as his hands began to travel around your waist, "even the thought of being in this position with anyone else makes me sick to my core."
you let jake's hands feel all over you as you felt his obvious hard growing underneath you, letting a small whimper pass through your lips.
some would argue that your relationship with jake was in too fragile of a state to be intimate with each other, but you couldn't disagree more; you needed to feel jake in the most intimate and vulnerable way possible.
"please," you whined in a whisper, jake knowing exactly what you were asking for and following suit.
in the blink of an eye, you let jake slip his hard cock inside you, his hands still wandering around your waist as he pushed his hoodie off your body. you let out quiet moans as goosebumps formed all over your body from his touch. the combination of the slow movements of your hips against his along with the way his hands ghosted over your chest was enough to send your body into a frenzy.
not wanting to rush the pleasure, you slowed the movement of your hips to focus on jake's beauty.
you took time to adore the way his lips looked against your chest as he left gentle pecks along your skin, the way he ran his fingers through your hair, the way his eyes would meet yours, causing you to become shy.
"see how beautiful you are?" jake began, his lips finding their way back onto your skin, "i couldn't even imagine anyone else who i'd give myself to almost every goddamn chance i get. i want you all the time, you have no idea." his breathing slowed down as you began to kiss his soft lips.
it's impossible.
he's impossible.
jake sim is impossible not to fall in love with.
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a/n: sorry this one is so long and isn't exactly an easy read. i hope you still enjoyed it anyway and are looking forward to the next one <3 ily all and tysm for being super patient with this series. i love it so much and don't want to give up on it, so your support really helps <3
taglist: @axartia @jjhmk @valiantwastelanddelusion @jayroseyy @ayohahaha @asaheyow @lhsng @i-dalso @bunhoons @red-xherry @duolingofanaccount @lix-freckle3 @l0st-h0p3s @leeis @jaeyunology @green-orangeade @imbaeksbae @sunghoonmybeloved @tum73er @dilftime @qoh3 @sh1mja4yun @leeheeheeseung @jenshinee @sjakewrld @markleeisdabestdrug @futuremodeldiary @jeondolly @lil-iva @lalalalawon @noirgray @jckeplanet @teddy-lhj @meinapricity @jjkshies @bubbleseo @cherryunie @mqndnolia @bently-baby @fluffypiesstuff @ihrtk1ve @wonkiluvr @teti-menchon0604 @lovienikitty @rjsmochii @omgjwon @sunshine-skz @wy1999t @lv4rin @oceanyocean @nyfwyeonjun @mxshimoo @multifandombtvh @donghyckl @iloveoceaneyesss @jakeswhore @jinsfavoritedoll @brownsugarbaybee @heehee01 @mesopret @heesitation @heeverseblog @yoursjaeyun @mklhyvn @jungwon-xo @crazydelulu @kyurizeu @ineedsomezzz @beeomgui @graythecoffeebean @mixtape-racha @jaehoonii @wave2love @ifykyk3 @niniisnormal @miumiuoi
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schnarfer · 22 days
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Go Your Own Way - A Javier Peña One Shot
Young Javier Peña x f!reader
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Rating: Explicit 18+ minors dni
Word count: 10,868
Summary: Loving you isn’t the right thing to do
Content: 1979 Texas, very toxic relationship, sort of enemies to lovers if you squint a bit, absolutely no happy ending for our fuckboy Javier, no descriptions of reader except she has hair and there are outfit references, no specific ages mentioned in 1979 but they would both be early 20’s, Cheating/infidelity mentioned, smoking (OF COURSE), mention of drinking and drugs, two mentions of vomit, the good stuff? we’ve got flirting, kisses and smut; protected PIV, oral (f receiving), fingering, very light dirty talk, couple of light slaps, pet names (cariño, baby), Javier POV, I’ve tried to remove any overt British-isms but some may have slipped in, probably a bit of canon divergence, as well as wild historical and geographical inaccuracies but we’re going for vibes, yeah? and a note, we’re always Fleabag coded here. Let me know if I’ve missed anything. Over 18’s on pls and thank you.
A/N: OH BOY, when I say this one got under my skin. There are some very personal inspiration points for this and although I know I might disappoint some of you with the no happy ending for Javier, it’s what I always had in mind. Writer of emotional torment here, at your service. I can’t wait to hear what you guys think. Enjoy your visit to 1979 Texas and the fuckboy of all fuckboys that is young Javier Pena. I managed to slip in a Kate Nash lyric and a Taylor one, bonus points for anyone who can spot them.
Unbelievably huge thanks to my darling @pascalssbabyy for her unending support and to @katareyoudrilling for being my specialist advisor, including a deep dive into the history of Texas Universities. You guys are literally the best. Dividers by @saradika
Header Pic Important note: that’s not reader, that’s our beloved Stevie Nicks 🖤 All pics from pinterest.
Listen to: The whole of the Fleetwood Mac Rumours album, but specifically ‘Go your own way’. As a little treat you could maybe have a cry to Dusty Springfield’s ‘Son of a Preacher Man.’  
Go Your Own Way
Texas, 1979
Kingsville, Texas, is not a big town. Gossip spreads like wildfire, it’s practically the local pastime.
People around the same age, they brush up against each other in small ways that don’t always leave a mark, but names and deeds don’t easily get forgotten. Every time you’ve seen him, Javier Peña has made an impression. Not always a good one.
The first time you were barely a woman, fifteen and on the cusp of something. Stood under the festoon lights, holding an illicit bottle of beer which you didn’t much care for the taste of. There’s a carnival in town and everyone is here; young families, teenagers looking for trouble, old biddies tipsy on the punch that’s being served with wanton abandon.
Javier Peña is always full named, or slyly referred to as ‘the asshole’ by your guy friends. He’s a year older than you, brimming with a confidence that makes you giggle. As in, you literally giggled when being introduced. According to him, you and your girlfriends actually gasped. Recollections may differ.
What you do remember is that he was the type of man, boy then really, who induced giggling. Impossibly big, dark eyes framed by slightly scruffy dark locks, broad shoulders under a black leather biker jacket that led to an obscenely small waist in his slightly flared jeans. You can’t remember if you spoke to each other, but you do recall a break in his unreadable face for the briefest flash of a bright white smile in your direction. It’s there secured in your memory as the first time you met, and no amount of scrubbing can remove it.
The next time? A few years later, a house party, more illegal beers. They’re beginning to taste a bit better now. You hated to sit still at these things, fuck sitting pretty as if waiting for someone to approach you; you liked to wander around and chat (ok fine, flirt) with people. You resolutely refused to be a wallflower. Maybe have a little tug on a doobie if there had been one going.
You can remember exactly what you were wearing, low slung denim flares with your worn red Chuck Taylor’s, tiny little flower gypsy top that bared your whole midriff, matching daisies in your hair. You’d had a big, loose knit cardigan on when you left the house as your Mom would have just about passed out if she’d realised how much flesh you were going to have on display. A more lackadaisical mother ran this house, as was evident by the overflowing rooms filled with canoodling, grooving teens and the record player belting out the Stones.
Where were you? Oh yes, you were singing along to Jimi’s Foxy Lady and weaving your way through the crowd when you found yourself pressed up close to Javier Peña in the doorway. You’d muttered a ‘sorry’, but the warmth of your eyes on him and the way you bit your lower lip showed him that you didn’t have an ounce of real apology in you. Up close, you’d admired his fine aquiline nose and golden skin, soaking in his liquid brown eyes. He’d let his hands trace down your naked waist, holding you firmly by the hips before he’d given you the lightest of pinches.
“That’s alright my friend.” His voice was low, softer than you would expect, it had settled into you.
An electricity seemed to flow between you, his touch had ignited a light in your eyes that travelled to your lips, made you smile at him with a turn of your features that bordered on a smirk. With that one look, that one grasp, he’d made you feel powerful. You’d never felt that before.
Yet you’d walked away, ended up chatting to a fairly ordinary boy by a bookcase for the rest of the evening. An energy existing in you that gave you a certainty you didn’t normally possess, flirtatious glances shared with Javier Peña throughout the evening.
He had unquestionably made quite the entry in your diary that night.
You’d continued to circle each other at different events, always catching each other’s eye but never doing anything about it, as if you both knew somehow that your time would come.
And now? Now you’re sat across from him in a college bar, trying to work out what the fuck is happening.
There are five of you around the table and it already feels complicated, messy. Classic small town politics but moved to the marginally more anonymous location of Texas A&M University. Gossip is still the lifeblood of almost everyone here, but at least it moves at a slightly slower pace than home. The walls don’t feel quite so close.
Sat next to you, your best friend Grace; single, footloose and fancy free, devastatingly beautiful, making some big eyes at Javier Peña. Next to her, your close friend Lucy, who happens to be going out with Javier’s best friend Danny. Finally, seated next to you? A lovely boy that goes by Billy, who you’d been seeing for a short time during your first year here. It had fizzled out after a few dates, but he still seems to be harbouring a bit of crush.
See… complicated.
In the middle of it all, Javier Peña is brooding. Looking at you like he’s either going to devour you or try and wring your neck. As if there’s not a jumble of shouting and tequila shots and too loud disco music all around him. That it could just be you and him in the bar, sat under a twinkling glitterball with Chic blasting in the background.
There’s talk of a girlfriend, his girlfriend. And, well, you’re seeing someone, so what the fuck is with this energy that’s threatening to tip you off balance? That’s making it so you can’t take your eyes off him; you feel like he’s peeling off layers of your clothes with the power of his thoughts - leaving you naked and exposed.
Poor, sweet Billy can see it, watches dumbly as something unspoken drenches the air between you all. A want that’s making you breathless. Grace pulls at your hand, breaking you out of the spell Javier Peña has on you for a moment.
“Hun, I’m gonna go to the bathroom, you coming too?”
“Sure thing Gracie, I could do with some air actually.”
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Nobody had wanted to leave you two alone, you can see a weariness in their eyes, a hesitation that something dangerous is lurking between the two of you. The status quo is about to be disrupted. You don’t care. You’ve engineered it so it’s finally just you and Javier sat back at the table by the bar; you slipped away from the girls in a circle round their handbags on the dance floor and now your elbows are leant on the sticky surface of the round table, as you toy with the straw in your southern comfort and coke. Knees almost touching, out of sight.
“My friend Billy’s in love with you, that’s why I’m not going to fuck you.”
You splutter out your drink, not the opening to the conversation you were expecting. Why can’t Javier Peña just be normal for once?
“Sorry, what?”
He repeats it slowly, obviously enjoying every syllable, “Billy is in love with you.” Takes a sip of his whiskey, “Which is why I’m not going to fuck you.”
It’s absolutely maddening, this sureness he has, this self-assurance that oozes out of him. You feel pissed at him all of a sudden, how dare he think he could even touch you? What right does he have to share sweetBilly’s inner most secrets with you, an almost stranger?
You thought it was attraction, but maybe you fucking hate this guy.
There are so many reasons why this isn’t happening, but you choose the three simplest.
“You’re not going to fuck me because I don’t want you to. AND, by all accounts you have a long-suffering girlfriend, and I’m seeing someone anyways.”
You shrug your bare shoulders, take a good glug of your drink and lean against the back of the bench as you let your eyes flick up and down that beautiful, now frowning face. A prominent line between his brows, matching searching eyes.
“You exclusive?”
“No… but…”
The line disappears, he’s easy again.
“Then I could fuck you if I wanted to.”
It’s your turn to frown, hard, at him, “You know what, fuck you.”
“One day… one day I’ll fuck you so good you’ll never be the same again. I’d ruin you pretty girl, ruin you so you never want to fuck anyone else ever again.”
He’s smiling at you, but there’s darkness behind it and no levity in his eyes at all; he really means it.
You lean into him, placing your now empty glass directly in front of him and breath heavy into his ear, “In your dreams cowboy.”
He turns his face to catch yours, but you’ve already pulled away. There’s nothing quite like the dominance you feel now, tingling and exhilarating. You can still feel his eyes on you as you slink away, don’t need to turn to know his gaze is still boring into you.
You turn anyway; it’s just too tempting, you want a memory of what that level of lust looks like. Feels good. And you know he’s getting a taste of his own medicine, you’re the mirror image of him, sex screaming out of you and practically slapping him in the face.
He drabs his thumb against his parted lips, lights a cigarette, and you disappear into the night, ‘fucking asshole’ you mutter to yourself.
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Something was set in motion that night, from being on the periphery of your vision, Javier Peña is now a constant. You search out his name in conversation, hope to see him on campus, fuck him with your eyes when you do run into each other.
Collectively, people are not happy about this. Whatever… this is. Javier’s girlfriend is furious whenever your name is mentioned, you run in similar circles and a poison is spreading about your motivations; how you’re trying to lure him away, that you’re the brazen harlot set on sin. When anyone who has ever met him knows it is impossible to make Javier Peña do a single thing he doesn’t want to?
You’d laugh at how ridiculous it is, how fucking typical that it’s always the woman’s fault, but it stings and it follows you round like an accusation painted on your back. All of your close friends, except Grace who would back you up under any circumstances whether you were guilty or not, try and steer you away, try to protect you from the nastiness that seems to permeate around your obvious growing obsession with each other. You shake off the boy you’re seeing without a second glance, his name lost from your memory almost instantly.
You’re choosing to be blind to it. Impressively, wilfully, blind. The odd stab of remorse at how you keep dear Billy hanging around just to feel loved, have someone adore you, when what you really want is exasperatingly out of reach. Sorry Billy.
You find your grasp on reason is treacherously loose when it comes to Javier Peña.
A crowd of mutual friends have gathered out on the grass in front of the library and you and Javier have inevitably drifted close together. You sit in front of him, cross-legged, your limbs twisted slightly unnaturally as you curl into yourself so there’s no way you’re touching him and cautiously watch him smoke like a demon. It’s never looked sexier to be honest. Your course books are spread out in front of you, like you might actually pick up one and read something. As if your thoughts aren’t gallingly full of him.
You have to remind yourself you hate this infuriating man.
“Just say normal shit please Javi, not everything has to be a mind fuck.”
“What? All I said is that you’d look sexy knocked up. It’s a compliment?”
You want to throw one of these books at his head.
“Do they teach you this in your psychology course? Am I some kind of experiment?”
“No thanks, wouldn’t want to start messing around in there.” He plants a thick digit in the centre of your forehead, “Imagine what kind of depraved shit I’d dig up. And all about me? Horrifying.” His voice is deadpan, but his expression is pure menace.
“Jesus Christ Javi.” You attempt to disarm him right back, “How’s your girlfriend?”
His hand drops down away from you, but remains nonplussed, “Jus’ fine.” He huffs out. He’s lying on his tummy on the grass, notepad and textbook laid out in front of him, running a hand down his clean-shaven face and scratching at his chin.
“You’d look good with a moustache Javi.” You crawl on your hands and knees right up as close as you dare, an inch away from what feels like a disaster, “You’d look sexy.”
“Great… I’ll grow a moustache and knock you up, then we’ll both be unstoppable.”
You laugh, what else is there to do?
You can feel the heat of people watching you, gossip already spreading, eyebrows raised.
Fuck it.
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You’re stood at the top of the stairs of your student house, watching through the banisters at the long stream of friends piling in thorough the front door, clutching beers and bottles of liquor in brown bags. You spot Javier walking in with Danny and Lucy, holding a half full bottle of whiskey in his right hand and with a cigarette hanging lazily from his mouth as always. The beginnings of a moustache visible above his top lip.
“Who invited Javier Peña, you know I fucking hate him?”
Grace punches you in the shoulder, laughing at you, “I don’t know who you think you’re kidding, you’re obsessed with him?”
“Urgh, no thanks. He’s so arrogant, it’s obnoxious.”
“So, you won’t care that I heard he broke up with that girlfriend of his? Lucy said the poor girl finally had enough of him.” Grace rolls her eyes knowingly.
“Nope.” Excitement spirals up your spine, bringing a smile to your already parted lips, “Don’t give a shit.”
“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met babe.”
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It’s the middle of your party, but you’ve found yourself sat out on the street with Javier, bottoms perched on the edge of the sidewalk, the house thunderous behind you. It’s vibrating with music, long-haired friends everywhere, dotted on the front steps and leaning out of windows smoking.
“Fleetwood Mac!” You coo, “Ohhh my favourite.” You sing along for a few bars, “If I could Baby, I'd give you my world… How can I… When you won't take it from me?”
“Huh, you’ve got a great voice?”
“Yes, I do.” You give him your best pout and flutter of your lashes; something happens to you when Javier praises you. You imbibe some of that innate conviction he exudes, let it pour out of you and right back at him, “Don’t sound so surprised.”
There’s a beat.
You know you’re going to kiss him, there’s a static between you that fizzes so hard it’s almost burning you, singes at the blood coursing through your system and pulls you closer to him. It’s almost fun, seeing how you can stretch it out, resist this magnetic pull that’s grasping to bind you together.
Neither of you move, but he licks those pouty lips, stubs his ever-present cigarette out under his heel.
“You gonna quit playing with me, give me what I want?”
You tip your head, scrunch up your nose, “And what is it that you want Javi?”
“You. I want all of you. Now.”
Your head is thrown back in laughter when he launches himself at you; it’s clumsy and messy, too much teeth and want all at once. The kiss you would probably have had at 15 but the long, drawn out build-up has put too much pressure on this moment. It’s not a good kiss.
He pulls back, let’s out of a pant of frustration, “Shit, I’ve fucked it up already.”
“No Javi, you just…” You shake your head, brush your hand against his face, let a finger drag down his sideburn, rub the tip your nose against his handsome profile, “…need to slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”
You take control, slip off the sidewalk and coil yourself into his lap. One hand warm against the side of his face, other arm around his shoulder and neck, holding him back. You look into those devilish dark eyes and see hesitation where ungodly confidence normally resides. You push some of your hair behind your ear, prolonging his agony, letting your tongue trace along those plush lips but still hold him back, holding him firm so he can’t eat into you the way he wants. You feel him getting hard beneath you, a hot pulse in your cunt mirroring his want, declaring your own.
You whisper into his ear, “You finally going to make good on your promise Javi? You going to fuck me so good I can’t see straight? Use me just the way you’ve been fantasising all these years?”
“Fuck yes.”
You kiss him then. Still steady with what you want, forcing him to lick into you at your pace, gentle and needy, a twist of yearning that can build rather than explode. Little nips and playful nibbles, you can taste the cigarettes on him, practically breathing in the hunger that’s whipping around both your heartbeats.
Now this, this is a good kiss. Might just screw you up forever.
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Javier Peña has you on your bed, pressed up against the wall on your knees, hot kisses against your skin as he tugs off each piece of your clothing until you’re in nothing but your black lace panties. Not letting one inch of your exposed skin go untouched by his hands or those divine lips. He shakes his shirt off and pulls your nipple into his mouth, tender but firm with his teeth as you card your fingers through his hair, when something catches his attention.
You have a cork-board covered with pictures, band flyers, articles you’ve snipped from the paper. And tucked away on there, a photo of Billy and Javier sat in the bar where you first properly met. Javier has one eyebrow raised questioningly as Billy tries his best smoulder. You’d forgotten you had it pinned.
He falls back from your softening body and smiles a wicked smile at you, tilts his head and looks at you with those big brown eyes.
“That a picture of me cariño?” He rubs a thumb over your pebbled nipple before giving your ass a playful slap, followed by a rough squeeze.
You let a little pant out, “Maybe?”
He slips away, saunters over, takes out the pin and yanks the picture off the cork-board. He folds it over, so that Billy is no longer visible and stands it up on your bedside table.
“Much better. Now you can look at me, just me, when you touch yourself.”
“Like this Javi?”
You lean back against the wall, spread your knees so you can reach into your panties, feel your back arch as you dip your fingers into yourself and then drag them against your clit.
You gasp as in one smooth movement Javier pounces and rips the lace at your hips so you’re fully exposed, shoving the tattered remains of your panties in his back pocket.
“Better. Show me everything…” You stretch your knees wider, tilt your pelvis so he can watch as you spread your pussy and perform for him; you bite your lip and let your other hand reach up to your breast, caressing yourself and letting a little breathless ‘Javi, baby’ escape.
He likes that, preens at the nickname, gets up real close.
“Say that again.”
“Javi, baby, I want you.”
“Just like that, look how soaked you are… prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen cariño.”
He licks his own lips, runs his thumb over the wetness and appreciates the soft, almost musical noises you’re making as you run your fingers through yourself, so wet now, eyes lockedinto his. You’ve never felt sexier, or more powerful, the heat from his gaze warming your already burning cheeks. You feel dangerously close already and he hasn’t even touched you. Watching him lazily rub at the clearly visible hard length in his always too tight jeans is making you feel almost delirious. Straining against the material, but in no rush. Enjoying the show.
“Keep your eyes on me. Just like that cariño, making me so hard, fuck.”
You let out a little moan of frustration, “Javi baby, I’m gonna come, I wanna feel you.”
He’s between your legs in an instant, licks at your fingers as they dip in and out rhythmically, his hands pressed hard against your thighs. You’d like it to bruise, a sign he’s finally been here, finally tasted what you’ve been toying with for so long. You let your fingers be sucked into his mouth, he bites them softly but removes every last drop of your slick from them before he buries his face in your cunt, lapping at your already throbbing clit. It just takes one of his thick fingers pressing into you and you feel yourself begin to clench around him, the warmth of your orgasm dancing through you and roaring into your cheeks. You close your eyes involuntarily and enjoy the blissful sensation you’ve been dreaming of for all this time wash over you. Your first Javier Peña orgasm that he’s actually been here for…
You feel so sensitive you try to pull back against the wall but Javi clasps at your thighs, won’t let you move. He looks up at you, brown eyes blown to blackness with desire, lips wet with you.
“We’re just getting started cariño, I’m going to need at least one more before you’re even close to ready for my cock.”
You let out a breathless, “Shit Javi, that was intense.”
“Looks like you’ve been practicing for me.”
He doesn’t give you chance to respond, he takes both your hands and slides you down onto the bed, so you’re lying on your back, he’s not gentle but the force feels right, like he could do just about anything with you and you’d let him.
His head is between your thighs again, kissing up the soft flesh on each slide, trailing his fingers with a featherlight touch down your hips and making a shiver of excitement run down your back, you feel like you’re practically vibrating with longing as he reaches your cunt.
“I’m not kidding, really is the fucking prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, she’s so wet for me cariño. And tastes like heaven.”
You clearly don’t need it, but he spits at your seam and immediately runs his tongue through you, swirling the mix of you together and you buck your hips at the warmth, at the heavenly sensation that is driving you wild. He lets his tongue pulse on your clit and watches your reactions through bright, mischievous eyes as you grip onto his strong forearms and decide that it’s all been worth it. If this is what it’s like to have a man hate you because he desires you so much, bring it fucking on.
He locks into you, letting his tongue trace around your entrance before returning to your clit and continuing those electric pulses, edging you closer to oblivion which each touch.
He stops and you begin to whine at the lack of contact, but he’s kissing you again, he tastes like sex and want, a visceral experience of the unspoken tension that’s been dripping between you and is now twisting on your tongues and pounding in your veins. He offers you two of his thick fingers and you suck at them, wrapping your tongue around them and tipping your head back, letting him push them further into your throat. The way he’s looking at you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced, pure lust that’s seeping out of every pore, a heat that is making you almost dizzy.
You need to have some part of him in you or you think you might die.
It feels a bit more frantic now, he slips one, then two fingers into your heat quickly, curling them round as you buck your hips and he laps at your cunt again, an intensity that’s building which can’t be stopped. Where you had been focused on this being Javier Peña with his mouth on you, you now find every thought you’ve ever had has fallen out of your heat; you can only feel the sensations that are tightening inside you and making your legs begin to shake. Javi’s found a spot you’ve never reached before, it almost feels too much, making you wiggle underneath his touch and a long stream of obscenities escapes as you tip loser to bliss.
“Javi, fuck it feels too much, I can’t…” You almost, almost, want to pull away but he grips you tightly around your upper thighs with one hand and continues his rhythmic pulsing with his fingers while nipping, licking, kissing at your clit. Fuck it feels insane, almost like… oh fuck.
You swear, for a second everything goes completely white as your orgasm rocks through you, with a release so hard you feel like you’ve covered Javi and your aware he’s drinking you in, working his tongue against you as you continue to shake, almost like he’s guiding you through it.
“Jesus fucking Christ Javi, baby, what did you do to me?” You’re laughing, it feels so good, you can still feel it resonating through you, you have to flex your fingers to try and regain some sensation of normality. Javi props himself up in his elbows so he’s caging you in, grinding his still jeaned cock against you, his face glistening with your slick and a look that the devil himself would be proud of.
“That the first time you’ve done that?”
“Done what baby?”
“Oh cariño, I just made you squirt and it was fucking beautiful. I wanna make you do it again…” He kisses you, tanging your lips and your tongue in a way that feels so intimate, that you’re so connected you might just melt into him, “but first I need to feel that pretty pussy around my cock, fucking waited long enough.”
“Please Javi, baby, please, I need it.”
You watch as he slips out of his jeans, condom packet already in his hands. On his knees in front of you, perfect cock so hard, bobbing against his tummy, it’s making you salivate. Finest dick you’ve ever seen. You want it in your mouth, but he pushes you back down, forceful again, grabs you by the hips and yanks you forward, positions himself in front of you; you’re so wet he just glides in, a hiss leaving his lips as you tighten around him.
Everything feels hot and sweaty, you taste the salt on his skin, bite into his neck as he hits a punishing pace, gritting his teeth as he already teeters on the edge. You want to be lost like this forever, just the two of you entwined, intuitively moving together and fuck, it feels good.
“Shit cariño, feels amazing, taking me so well, like you were made for me.” He moves swiftly, hooks your legs over his shoulder, so he can reach even deeper, you feel like you can practically see stars every time he pulls almost right out and then bottoms out, the coarse hair of his base rubbing against your skin so deliciously. “You think I can make you come again?”
You nod furiously, as he presses your knee into your chest so he can begin circling your clit, his own rhythm becoming more jagged as he tries to slow the impending orgasm and coax one more out of you. You lift yourself up so you’re leaning with your arms outstretched behind you, meaning you can push up against him and let Javier kiss at your breasts and rub that fine nose against your jawline.  
You feel like you’re almost in a trance, your body belongs to him now; the warmth rising from your belly spreading up your spine and flooding your senses; “Javi, baby, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.”
It gives him the permission he needs to let go, spilling into you with a “fuck!” and you can feel him pulsing in you, crashing back to your lips and kissing you messily, both of you so soft and open you feel like you finally understand a twin flame; precarious, volatile but burning together with an insatiable need.
He doesn’t give you longer than a moment.
“Now we’ve got that out of our system, I see that as like, a one-time thing, yeah? Really fucking hot cariño … but,” He shrugs, doesn’t meet your eyes, “it’s all a bit complicated, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
You wait for him to explain but he doesn’t continue, is already lighting a cigarette and pulling on his jeans. You watch as he torturously pulls them up with one hand, no boxers, his tummy taunt, with the finest hair dappling the skin before thicker curls, shoving himself inelegantly into place. It’s only been a few minutes and yet you find you’re already hungry for him again, would give anything to reach out and yank those jeans right off, have his delicious cock in your hands.
You don’t. You sit wrapped in the sheet like in the movies, as if you haven’t just revealed every inch of your naked, desperate body to him. Haven’t just come so hard it’s still swirling in you, making everything feel soft and like he should be here, tucked up right next to you, soaking in it, revelling in it, pressed against your breasts and breathing in the afterglow magic.
He’s not. He’s halfway out of your bedroom already and still avoiding your piercing look. Fine. You channel a nonchalance you absolutely do not feel and give Javier your sexiest, poutiest gaze.
“Well, that was fun. Call me if you want a rematch.”
He doesn’t say anything, slips out of the door and into the still bubbling party below. You flop back on the bed, a mess of doubt and aching thighs, a dull throb where Javier has just been. A used condom on the floor. Romance has officially come to die in your bedroom. Fuck.
Somehow in the tangle of limbs this evening you’ve gotten the tiniest of cigarette burns on your inner forearm, just after the crease of your elbow. It doesn’t hurt, but the more you look at the singed skin, the more it looks like a heart. It clutches at something in you, something you know you’re not supposed to be feeling. This fucking man, getting under your skin, marking you in ways you least expect.
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The one-time thing would be hell of a lot easier if you didn’t keep running into each other.
Having gone months occasionally seeing him around, now it feels like whenever you leave your house, he’s right there.
Javier Peña is everywhere you fucking go; you can’t walk round the library, pop into the store or even cross the campus without running into him. You’re not sure if you’re accidentally stalking him, or he’s infuriatingly found a way to be one step ahead of you at all times. Remaining in your eye-line but permanently out of reach.
You’re practically half asleep riding the bus into town when his obnoxiously handsome face, new moustache looking just as sexy as you’d promised, pushes next to you. He’s all golden skin and that enraging single dimple when he meets your surprised eyes and gifts you the briefest of smiles. There are no seats, so you’re forced to stand almost, almost, pressed together.
“What are you doing on the bus?” You can’t help it, you sound accusatory, frustrated with him already before he’s even spoken to you.
“Hey to you as well.” Another all too short smile, before he’s back to his smouldering best, “Car’s at the shop. Gotta travel with the civilians for a few days.”
Javier Peña is fucking terrible at small talk, as you sway standing together very purposefully not touching and holding tightly onto the swinging handles from the bus roof, he just dives right in.
“So, do you regret it?”
“Regret…. Javi… What? You mean?” He grins at you, the asshole. “No, I don’t regret it. I’ve never… it’s never, I’ve not felt a connection like that before.”
“But you’ve gone on dates with Billy.”
You feel a heat rise from your neck and warm your face, it is impossible to keep anything quiet around here. Bigger then home at least, but still a network of gossip that seems to delight in your misery. Why shouldn’t you spend some time with a boy that clearly adores you, when the alternative is moping around after someone that seems to hate you and desire you in equal measure?
Whatever the fuck is going on in Javier Peña’s head, whether he really doesn’t care or has somehow worked out your entire schedule so he can randomly pop up when you least expect it, he’s definitely not picked up the phone and called you.
As much as you are loathe to admit it, to inflate that ego, you venture some truth, “Just a couple of dates… but Javi… He’s not you.”
“Didn’t I warn you cariño? Told you I’d ruin you. Make it so you’d never want to be touched by anyone else.”
Christ, he’saggravating, you roll your eyes at him, “Then why are you resisting this? Why are you holding back from me?”
The bus stalls and you fly into him, the teenagers behind you fall into hopeless giggles. You realise now they’ve been hanging on every word you’ve been saying to each other, drinking up the free soap opera in front of them and almost willing you to touch each other. His hands steady you and your heart is thumping so loudly you reach your hand to it as if you can quiet the thrumming. He pulls back from you, hands dropping to his sides quickly as if you’ve burnt him.
You want to stamp your feet, “You want me Javi, just admit it.”
He just shakes his head, gives you a blast of his softest look, the one that makes him look like a lost little boy and makes you want to slap it right off his face and kiss him all at once. You grip onto the plastic handle, slippery under your increasingly sweaty palm.
“This is my stop.”
As people file off the bus, you slump down in the now empty seat next to you. One of the teenagers leans forward to you, loudly popping her bubble gum.
“Bad luck girl, that man is fine as hell.”
“Don’t I know it.”
You both sigh together, eyes following those snake hips as he walks down the sidewalk, briefly glancing at the two of you now staring at him through the window. Strangers united in an appreciation of the way his jeans always fit just right.
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To your eternal surprise, he does call you. Late one evening, when you’re frantically writing an essay that’s due the next day and trying to stay awake with some rather disgusting instant coffee. The phone rings shrilly from down in the hallway and when none of your housemates answer, you begrudgingly make your way down the stairs.
Grace has got there first, she is grinning madly at you. Whispers, ‘It’s Javier Peña for YOU!”
“Hello?”
“Look. I’m sorry about on the bus the other day, I didn’t… uh… mean to be rude.”
You just kind of hum in response, nervously twirling the phone cord round your fingers as Grace dances around the hall manically, smiling wildly at you.
“Did you want to come over, to mine? Maybe Friday night? Thought maybe we should talk.”
“I’m supposed to be...” Grace kicks you real hard in the shin, “No, yes, Friday. Let’s do it.”
He gives you his address, which you scribble down on the notepad sitting on the wicker table that holds the phone. Drawing little stars around it as you say goodnight.
“Finallllllllly,” Grace drawls at you, she’s not a hugger but she does wrap her bare arms around your shoulders, giving you a little squeeze. “Javier Peña’s an idiot. He’s clearly in love with you.”
“I honestly don’t know what he is with me any more Gracie, he is a fucking mystery.”
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Javier Peña has the smoothest, most beautiful fake fur throw over his bed. It is completely incongruous to everything else about his hyper-masculine bedroom, his closed-off personality, his just about everything. You run your hands over it, delighting in the softness, an insight that maybe he is a man that is searching for comfort.
You look at him quizzically, fingers still deep into the warmth of it.
“My Mom got it for me before I left home. She used to have one I’d wrap myself up in, in the den. So, she thought it would… uh, remind me of home.”
“Did you just tell me something personal about yourself Javi?”
He barks a laugh, “Yeah, maybe, don’t get used to it.” He passes you a bottle of beer, sits on his desk chair as you lower yourself onto the bed and let yourself sink into the fur. “I normally put it away before I have friends over, but seeing as we’re just talking, figured it would be fine.”
“Oh, we’re not friends Javi.” You lean forward, cheers your beer with him before you lay back down again, it really does feel quite heavenly.
He looks slightly taken aback.
“We’re not friends?”
“I’ve got enough friends. We’re something else, I haven’t worked that out yet… but none of my friends have ever made me do what you did to me.”
You feel heat drip into your skin but choose to ignore it.
“I can’t stop thinking about it cariño… prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you coming all over my face. Fuck.” Those soft eyes are back, thumb rubbing against his plush lips, you can see his mouth is practically watering at the memory.
You lean up on your elbows, peer up at him as demurely as possible, “And that’s why we can’t be friends.”
“What about you and Billy?”
“What about us?”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
“None of your business. I’m not asking for a list of who you’re banging am I? I’d probably be here all night.”
He has the grace to look a little hurt, but there’s also confusion there. He’s unused to not being the one with the power, something about you disconcerts him and you like it. He can’t control your mouth and you think part of him wants to shut you up with his abrupt questions, but maybe, just a little, it’s a thrill that you challenge him.
You talk into the night. Annoyingly, you find the conversation between you flows deliciously, a push and pull of provocative flirting and gentle mocking. When he stops constantly trying to shock or unnerve you, there’s so much you share; from growing up in the same small town, to the many friends you have in common and even, underneath his taciturn exterior, there is a mutual sense of humour. Teasing, almost silly, definitely irreverent. You’ve never met a man that loves to swear as much as you do.
You find the coil inside you that is often so tightly wound around him, expecting a jab or something to unseat you, has loosened as you relax into each other. You’d never expected to feel comfortable around him, but it’s something akin to an understanding. You also discover your birthdays are five days apart.
“Oh shit,” You mutter, “I think we might actually be too similar.” That gets a wicked laugh from him, as if he’s known all along that you and he would share something other worldly in your connection. Greater forces at work perhaps. 
“It’s late, why don’t you sleep over. No… uh… funny business.”
“Sure.”
You know there isn’t a hope in hell he’s going to being able to stick to that. You’re going to enjoy seeing how quickly you can break him. You slip your bra off, wriggle out of your gypsy skirt so you’re only in your panties and your favourite Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. It just about covers your underwear, you look at him with a forced innocence that you couldn’t be further from. 
“Can I borrow a toothbrush… baby?”
It’s difficult not to smirk, not when he’s looking at you like that. Like a switch has been flicked; his eyes are hungry, almost ravenous looking, so dark and fuck, like he’s going to consume you whole. Your breath hitches, Javier reaches his hand out to the cotton of your t-shirt and where the peak of your nipples are visible through the thin material. He runs a thick thumb over one, before giving you the lightest of pinches; you feel your nipple harden under his touch and you shakily draw a breath in. He audibly groans, lets his thumb run over it in tight circles for only a moment, before he pulls away. A hard swallow follows.
He seems to just about collect himself.
“Bathroom’s down the hall, mine’s the red toothbrush…” His eyes flick up and down you, as you make to go out the door, “Jesus Christ, cariño put something over you.”
You pull the fake fur around yourself in one easy movement and trot off outside to the hallway, very pleased with yourself.
When Javier nips to the bathroom, you lay the fur back on the bed and curl yourself up under the covers, breathing in the intoxicating smell of Javier Peña that emanates from the sheets. You hate what a visceral affect it has on you, straight to your cunt, like a hit of a drug right into your veins. You artfully position yourself so he can just slot himself behind you, if he so wishes.
He does fucking wish. Slinks into the bed in his usual cat-like fashion, arm instantly wrapped around your waist, legs drawn up behind you so that his breath is hot against your neck, cock already pleasingly hard against your back. Just as it should be. The minty smell of toothpaste so different from his usual masculine, tobacco infused scent.
He whispers into your hair, “Gonna piss a lot of people off if we’re seen together.”
This is too easy.
“Well people don’t have to know, do they?”
You stay like this, quiet, strangely peaceful for once. The usual senseless amount of tension has stilled, and you just enjoy being in each other’s arms, breathing the same air. Neither of you running your mouths for once. A steady thrum of your heartbeats reassuring you both the longing is mutual.
Javier ruins it of course, but in the best possible way.
“Any idea what you’re doing to me? I can feel how hot your pussy is for me cariño, drivin’ me insane. This all for me?”
“All for you Javi, baby, always all for you.”
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There’s a thrill in trying to keep it under wraps. Which you are both absolutely, ridiculously terrible at.
The problem is, if you’re within five meters of each other, you need to be touching. And you don’t mean holding hands; Javi finds way to slip his fingers under your skirt, brush his hard cock against you in his always slightly too tight jeans. You fuck in the library, you fuck in the park, he clasps his hand over your mouth as he dips his finger into your cunt in the kitchen while your friends are drinking in the other room.
It’s like a madness has overtaken you both. Walking back from a bar one evening, you drop back from your friends and Javier literally throws you over his shoulder, squeezing your ass and whispers filth to you so that you’re practically whining into his perfect broad back, you’re so desperate for him to touch you. He pulls you down, so your legs are wrapped around that slutty waist, his hands clutching at the curve of you, your arms around his neck playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Cariño, the things I’m going to do to you when I get you alone. I want you screaming my name, coming on my cock so hard, I’m gonna get you believing in the existence of a god.”
It is divine.  
It is not subtle.
You’re not winning any popularity contests.
Teetering on the horizon is that these are Javier’s final months here. After the spring’s exams he’s going back to home, has a job lined up back with the County Sheriff. You’ve got another year of college left and you keep waiting for the two of you to discuss what’s going to happen then. But you never do.
You never discuss anything; you slink about in the shadows and fuck each other until you can’t think straight, but you don’t go out for dinner dates and the movies, plotting adventures or the future. Even getting him to agree to coming round to your student house and hang out with your friends for the evening verges on the impossible, he resists anything he deems as too ‘couple-y’.
He has never, not once, slipped his hand in yours.
You maintain the pretence that this is fine, you’re fine with this. If it’s the only way you get what you want; Javier Peña in you, on you, devouring you, then you’ll play along as long as you need to. You know, deep down, that you want more. That maybe, you deserve more.
The summer comes around far too quickly and suddenly Javier’s back home while you stay at your student house, working at the local paper over the break.
Javier Peña all but disappears from your world. You receive very occasional phone calls on his terms, his Mom answers the phone to you more often than he does; Javier’s always working, always out, never where you desperately want and need him to be. You feel your grip on him loosening, your hold on your sanity crumbling at the same rate.
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Things are spiralling. You drink far too much on your night’s out, cry on the stairs at house parties, spend hours waiting by the phone for calls that are never, ever, going to come. Your course work is suffering as you waste hours torturing yourself about what Javier is doing at home without you. Who he’s doing.
It eats away at you. You know you’re on the cusp of some kind of madness. There’s an exquisite pain in this level of self-destruction and you’re letting it consumer you whole. 
After a particularly disastrous night out where you got blackout drunk, again, spinning round the dance floor channelling your inner Stevie Nicks in a mess of sequins and eventually, vomit, Gracie crawls into your bed in the morning.
She hands you a glass of water, two aspirin, “You love him, don’t you babe?”
You swallow down the bile that threatens to become sick again. Everything hurts. You vaguely recall trying to kiss someone off the football team as a futile form of revenge, but for some reason the intoxicated disarray that was slurring pathetically didn’t turn him on. Oh shit, you feel shame rising up and you can’t hide from it.
“Is it that obvious?” You groan.
“I think you’re like, the best thing ever, you know that right? But babe, you’re going insane. And it’s so horrible to watch.” She strokes your hair, “I know you think Javier Peña’s the one… but…”
This is the closest Gracie has ever come to criticising Javier, she has always prioritised supporting you when everyone else has been so negative, so judgemental. It means the world to you.
“I think you need to weigh it up. How happy you are when you’re together, it is worth how low you feel when you’re apart, when he refuses to commit to you, to even call you his girlfriend? I think he loves you, but he’s no good for you.”
“I love you Gracie. Thank you.” You force a hug on her, she resists but you won’t let her go. She’s bony and not warm, but her reluctant arms around you are the most comfort you’ve had in a long time.  
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You’re back at home with your parents in Kingsville just for the weekend and you’ve had a stupid row with Javier, you don’t even really know what it was about, but you’d provoked each other to fury and instead of your usual angry make-up sex, he’d stormed off in a sulk.
You hate, hate, hate how pathetic you feel as you cry on your own in your childhood bedroom, an emptiness that claws at you as you long to feel his weight on you, feel like you would do almost anything to have his breath mingling with yours, to be able to smell the sweat on his skin.
How has it come to this, where there was once so much excitement and a rush of pleasure, now you only feel a kind of despair. Even when you’re with Javier it doesn’t bring you any joy; you’re always waiting, waiting, waiting for disaster to strike. Sometimes you feel like you incite it, just so you’re no longer hanging on a knife edge. It makes you uneasy. All. The. Fucking. Time. You’re in a constant state of flux that no one seems to be able to calm.
You’d both arranged to meet Lucy and Danny at one of the local bars, so you drag a brush through your hair half-heatedly, scowl into the mirror and begin to make your way there.
Your dad is in the kitchen as you walk through, somewhat nervously eyeing you and your still puffy face. He reaches out an arm to stop you dashing past, pulls you into hug, but you feel stiff and unlovable, unable to accept the kindness. He kisses the top of your head, tries to still you.
“Why don’t you stay in tonight kid, your Ma could cook up something special for you? You’re looking awful thin.”
“I said I’d meet Javi, Pa, I can’t just not turn up.”
You give him the tiniest of smiles, but he sighs heavily, and you avoid looking at his concerned face; you know he’s never been a fan of Javier. Too confident, too pleased with himself, too in control of his daughter’s happiness.
He gives you another squeeze and a rub of your arm before you head to the door. He calls after you.
“I wouldn’t want to be your age again. Not for all the tea in China.”
“What do you mean?” You hang back, your Dad doesn’t normally speak like this to you. You see the worry etched into his weathered face, a gentle force throughout your life.
“I remember what it was like, you feel everything so deeply. People always romanticise what it’s like to be young, but they forget how much it hurts.” He pauses. “It will get better my darlin’, I promise.”
A few stray tears escape your eyes and you press them back with the palms of your hands, try and give him what feels like a hopeful smile. One neither of you are convinced by.
You finally arrive at the bar, Lucy and Danny look surprised to see you but make room for you at the table. Something feels off. But then again, something always feels off these days.
“Where is he?”
They give each other a shifty look. Their easy, casual intimacy with each other makes you feel sick.
“I think he’s playing pool in the basement.” Lucy offers, after a considerable hesitation.
Dread is dripping down your spine as you descend the dark and dingy stairs.
Your stomach drops to your knees. She’s pretty, real pretty, in a petite, blonde, completely and utterly unthreatening way. Like a little shiny button, with perfect tits. She’s laughing, delightfully, cheerfully, as Javier is draped over her and aligning the pool cue for her.
Suddenly, everything has flipped on its head; you’re cast in the position of the long-suffering girlfriend, watching Javier Peña fawn over his latest obsession. Only, you’ve never even got to hold that particularly accolade. Apparently, you’re just a fuck-buddy, now thrown aside for his newest toy.
You know immediately that he’s fucking her.
What you didn’t know is that you can actually feel heartbreak, that it’s a physical pain. You can’t breathe, your chest is tight in a way that it hurts to exhale. It’s no exaggeration to say you stagger blindly back up the stairs, you can barely see a foot in front of you and your lungs heave with the exhaustion of crushing down the tears which are promising to expose you.
Javier is somehow right up behind you, isn’t he always able to do that? In-fucking-furiating.
He looks cross with you, like you’ve made a scene. “You need to calm down cariño. You and I? We’re not exclusive, you know?”
“Fuck you Javi,” You spit it out, “Fuck. You.”
Something has cracked in you; you can see everything clearly for a split second. This is not a thrilling affair; you are not star-crossed lovers. This is simply a man who won’t hold your hand in public, won’t even really walk next to you, but will happily paw at you under a table, fuck you in the darkness, hide you away like a dirty secret.
If he does love you, he certainly doesn’t respect you. 
“You know what? I get it now; I get why everyone always told me to stay away from you. You’re a fucking asshole. Whatever this was Javi, baby, it’s over.”
You jab your hand into his chest, you feel the wildness you’ve been suppressing tearing her way out; “I refuse to be your crazy lover who spends her night’s wondering if you’re fucking someone else. She’s welcome to you – I don’t hate myself enough to keep doing this. Have a nice life.”
Javier has that enraging hurt look in his dark eyes, the softness that makes you want to scratch it right off. He tries to put his arms on your shoulders, an attempt to calm you, but you feel brittle, shove him hard in the chest so he tips backwards. You give him a few slaps against his arms,pitiful really, but your dignity has well as truly left the building so you might as well lean into this tantrum.
There’s no going back; you’re not trying to be alluring any longer, you’re not going to make yourself small for him ever again. You didn’t win. You storm into the night.
Some bastard creep is following you home. For fuck’s sake, being a woman is exhausting. You can see this stranger lurking in the shadows and while part of you (only a tiny, tiny, tiny, part) thinks it would serve Javier Peña right if you were murdered, you might actually need to do something about it.
You know there’s a bar right round the corner that is more of an ‘old man’ type of place, you hope perhaps one of your Dad’s friends is there and will walk you home, or maybe you could borrow some change and call your Dad to come get you. You push open the door to the bar, still feeling the strangers eyes on you from behind and scan the room for a familiar face but you can’t pick anyone out. Everything is a bit blurry. The tears that you fought so hard to control are running freely down your face now, unstoppable, you don’t even try to wipe them away. A face comes partially into view, a young man, holding a guitar.
“Hey, hey, are you ok?”
“Some creep is following me and I was…” You gulp down some air, try and steady yourself, “I was hoping to see someone I know who could walk me home?” A full sob escapes and you hastily turn away, if you snot on this handsome stranger you will die. “I don’t fancy getting murdered and broken-up with on the same night.”
He walks you home this kind man, guitar slung over his broad shoulders and gently talking to you about your favourite music all the way home. At some point you stop crying. You find a peace talking to him that you haven’t known for years. Since... well, you know exactly since when. He leaves you on your front porch, gives you a shy smile before he heads back into the night.
He calls out to you; “I’m Sam by the way!”
“Thank you for rescuing me, Sam.”
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Javier POV
You’d bewitched him, that’s the only way he can explain it. He’ll never forget the look on your face when you’d first met.
You’d cast a spell that entwined you together, no matter how hard he’d resisted. And that first night together, the alchemy of your bodies, the intoxicating taste of your pussy, he was lost eternally. It was like he was infected, desperate and needy for another taste. He can’t be close to you without wanting to be physically inside you, can’t stop his fingers reaching into your warmth, pushing his hardness against you for even a moment of relief. He’s addicted to your cunt in a way that’s driving him to insanity.
There’s a sharpness to you; you won’t cut him any slack and it drives him to distraction. Makes him want to fuck it right out of you, but when you do slowly become more compliant, slowly lose some of the fight in you, he finds it crushes him; then it makes him cruel. The number of times he’s wished you’d slapped him, scratched his face to ribbons with the fire he can see in your eyes.
He knows he’s breaking you and he can’t stop himself.
He doesn’t want to be locked into you. Javier Peña can’t have his future tied up in someone else, have his happiness reliant on you. He simply will not allow it. Everything that he knows you’re silently offering; security, a kind of peace, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. He is not a good man. He secretly also understands, with you he’s met his match. That if he gave in, he’d be yours forever. Once his fingers are linked with yours, he’ll never be able to pull away.
So, he pushes and pushes and pushes until you break.
The way he feels about you, he hadn’t considered that you could feel any other way. He believes you also have him coursing through your blood in a way that makes you unable to even look anyone else. Yeah, sure, he’d been fucking other people, even toying with the idea of dating that Penny girl with the great tits, but he was sure you knew they weren’t really anything. Just dalliances, a man has needs, right?
When he’s ready, you can be together.
This arrogance is his undoing.
The rumour mill is in full flight, as it always is. Churning out gossip that filters back to him; you’re seeing someone, a musician, people have seen you around together. Once it starts, it’s like a flood. You’re singing with the musician, you’re sharing a kiss on stage, he’s asking you to be his girlfriend over a candlelit dinner. Javier’s blood runs cold.
He gets nervous, so nervous he even tries to ring you one evening. Something he has resisted since that night in the bar where you’d basically kicked him in the gut. He’d always had it in his head that you’d finish your degree, come back home and… well…. back to him.
That maybe he’d be ready for you then.
Gracie picks up the phone.
“Javier Peña, as I live and breathe.”
“Hey Gracie. Is she in?”
“Javier… honey. No. She’s out with her boyfriend.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah Javi, fuck. You, you really did a number on my girl?”
“She your girl, ey?”
“Well, my friend, she’s definitely not your girl any longer.”
These nerves, they’re becoming a lot closer to panic. A new swirl of town tattle reaches his ears; you’re leaving with the musician. He’s got a tour and you’re going with him, without a second glance back at him or Kingsville.  
Javier can’t wrap his head around it, that this is genuinely happening. That there’s even a possibly that you really, truly, are not his any longer. He had a vision of the future and you’d always been in it, and now it’s slipping out of view.
He speaks to Danny.
“You met this musician guy?”
“Yeah, he seems like a good guy. She’s going to go on tour with him as soon as term finishes according to Lucy. Javier, if you’re gonna make a move you better do it soon?”
He’s running out of time and he knows you won’t see him, short of turning up on your doorstep he’s got to find another way.
Music had always been so important to you, little touchstones in your relationship together. Maybe, maybe he can find a way to speak to you that way. Flipping through his records he knows the moment he sees it; this is the one. He puts it on the record player, lights a cigarette and pulls a bit of paper out in front of him.
All the things he never allowed himself to say to you, all the things he refused to even acknowledge in himself, he lets them pour out on to the paper. A different man – one that he’s only ever let you catch a glimpse of, one that he knows you still need to believe exists to even give him the slightest chance.
Dusty Springfield’s ‘Son of a preacher man’ plays and he copies some of it down in his neat scrawl.
Cariño,
I have so much I want to say to you, but I thought Dusty might say it better. Maybe it’ll help you’ll understand how I feel about you.
The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
The only boy who could ever teach me
Was the son of a preacher man
Yes, he was, he was, ooh, yes, he was
Being good isn't always easy
No matter how hard I try
When he started sweet-talkin' to me
He'd come and tell me "Everything is alright"
He'd kiss and tell me "Everything is alright"
I know I hurt you, but I want us to be together. When I think of you, I see all the things I want for us, together. I close my eyes and I see us swimming in the ocean together, decorating Christmas trees, sitting on the beach and watching the sunset, spending afternoons in bed together, fucking you forever, getting the hell out of Kingsville together, having a beer with your Pa, helping your Mom make Sunday lunch, fixing things for you, pulling your panties down and fucking you in our kitchen, buying you diamonds, watching your Pa make the wedding speech, laughing together.
Come back to me.
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Javier receives a parcel in the mail. The shape of a record. His heart is in his mouth as he rips off the brown paper and see’s the Fleetwood Mac single, ‘Go your own way’.
There’s no letter, just an orange sticky note attached to the front. It says simply; ‘I’ll always love you, but it’s too late baby”. You’ve drawn a heart. Water marks dotted on the cover he knows are tears.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The lyrics pierce him. Tears prick at his eyes and he has to focus on breathing steadily, fingertips at his temples, to be able to think at all.
“Loving you Isn't the right thing to do
How can I ever change things That I feel?
If I could Baby, I'd give you my world
How can I When you won't take it from me?”
He begins to understand now what he has lost, what he had in the palm of his hand and has frittered away.
His love for you, it doesn’t entitle him to anything.
And your love for him? Doesn’t mean you belong together.
There are still choices to be made, lives to be led that aren’t centred around him. He’s unwittingly become a secondary character in someone else’s love story because he couldn’t just get his shit together and admit to himself what he wanted. That it was always you, you, you.
What he loves most about you, your strength and determination, the fire that lights you, has made you able to walk away and leave him for dust.
That day, he walks into the reception at the DEA office and enquires about jobs, any jobs, that will get him the fuck out of Kingsville, Texas.
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bruisedboys · 9 months
Note
STAR TRIPPING, blurbs ─── send in a character + a prompt from the lists above and I’ll write you a blurb!
could do you do a fluff blurb with miguel o'hara for~
❛ was that your first kiss? ❜
❛ do you think i’m a good person? ❜
❛ what if i hurt you? ❜
ive never really requested anything and i don't if that's too many prompts, so very sorry, ignore this if it's too much !! <3
hi angel!! thank you so much for the ask. I just used one of these prompts, I hope you don’t mind! 🤍
SPOILERS FOR SPIDERMAN: ATSV BELOW THE CUT!
miguel o’hara x spider-person!reader, no pronouns used, fluff and a tiny bit of angst!
prompt — ❛ do you think i’m a good person? ❜
Miguel isn’t used to feeling judged. He doesn’t care what other people think, especially when most people who don’t like him are much younger and much more inexperienced, in his opinion (Read: Hobie Brown).
But with you around it’s different. He feels like he needs to be better. Kinder, maybe. He’s not exactly sure why. Or rather, he knows exactly why but doesn’t want to admit it.
You’re kind, you’re really kind, probably the sweetest most selfless spider-person he’s ever had to deal with. And he’s dealt with a lot. Miguel likes how kind you are. At first it sort of stopped him in his tracks, threw him for a loop. Now that he’s known you for a while he’s found himself acting differently, being more forgiving of mistakes, letting things go that he usually wouldn’t. He’d never admit it out loud, but he knows it’s because he likes you. And, more importantly, he wants you to like him.
Still, he messes up sometimes. A mission to catch a Vulture variant turns messy when the Spider-Woman from the dimension he’d landed in gets stuck in a problem she can’t get out of. Gwen Stacy — she’s young, and she’s on her own, and she’s lost. Miguel is hesitant to let her on. He’s more rude to her than he should be. Snarky, mean. But in the end he lets her come, because what kind of person would he be if he left her there alone?
When he gets back he doesn’t mean to seek you out but finds you anyway. You’re in his office, of all places. He stands in the doorway feeling awful, feeling like you’d hate him for how he treated Gwen today. After a while he clears his throat though he doesn’t have to, you probably already know he’s there, what with your spider-senses and all.
You turn from your seat and smile at him. “You’re back. How did it go?”
Miguel doesn’t smile though he’d like to if he could. You’re the only one who can ever get a smile out of him. “Good. Everything’s taken care of.”
“Heard you picked up a new recruit,” you say with a little lilt to your voice. You’re always excited for new recruits. Quite the opposite of Miguel, really.
Miguel nods. The topic of Gwen makes him feel nauseous. Why did he have to be such a jerk to her? “We did. Gwen Stacy, she’s in the med bay right now.”
Your brow furrows. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Just a little scratched up.”
You nod. “Well, you probably want your office back,” you say softly, gesturing to the desk you’ve been occupying in place of him. “I’ll go.”
You get up and walk past him and Miguel almost lets you go but doesn’t. He calls your name before you make it out the door.
“Y/N?”
His voice comes out more strained than he’d meant it to sound. You don’t say anything but when he turns you’re looking at him with a worry to your pretty features. Miguel figures he must look quite troubled because you actually take a step forwards and put your hand on his forearm, so gentle it’s barely there, but it’s there, and it’s feels like dead weight to Miguel.
“Yeah?”
Miguel bites the bullet and asks the question he’s been asking himself for a long time. “Do you think I’m a good person?”
You blink at him. You’re silent for a beat. Then, “What’s making you ask that?”
Your hand drifts up his forearm and comes to rest at his elbow, your grip tightening ever so slightly. Miguel’s eyelids flutter lazily at your touch.
“I’m short with people,” is all he can manage to say in way of an explanation.
“You’ve got a stressful job,” you say reasonably. “It’s only human.”
“I was short with Gwen,” Miguel explains, finding the longer you touch him, the more he unravels. He stares at a point over your shoulder, “She didn’t deserve it.”
“Oh,” is all you say.
Miguel thinks his heart might drop out of his chest. Maybe it will and then he’ll keel over and die and never have to worry about what you think of him again. Unlikely. He’s never been that lucky.
He doesn’t realise how heavy the silence feels until you break it.
“Miguel? Can you look at me?”
Miguel looks at you. You’re pretty as ever. He’s always thought you were pretty, but now it feels suffocating. Like, if he doesn’t tell you soon, he’ll die.
“You’re not a bad person,” you say. “You’re good. You are. Everyone gets a little impatient sometimes.”
“You don’t,” Miguel says, because you don’t. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you get angry or upset with someone.
“That is so not true,” you say, shaking your head. “Ask Peter B, the other day I blew up at him for leaving Mayday’s toys all over the place.”
Miguel fights a smile. He can’t imagine you ever ‘blowing up’. “This is different, Y/N. You know what I mean.”
“I do know what you mean,” you say, your hand squeezing ever so slightly at his elbow. “And yeah, you have a short temper sometimes but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. What you’re doing here is good. You’re a good person, Miguel.”
You smile then, like you mean it, and Miguel knows you do. If he’d heard it from anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed them. But from you it feels real. He knows you wouldn’t lie to him, even if it was to make him feel better. You might be kind but you’re not dishonest. Yet another reason why Miguel likes you so much.
“Thank you,” he says. “You’re—“ He stops himself before he can say anything too serious, changes tactics though what he comes up with instead is still very much true. “I value your opinion more than you’d think. It’s important to me.” You’re important to me.
Miguel shifts his arm so he can take your hand in his. It’s bold. It’s unlike him. But it feels nice and your hand is soft in his and he hopes it will say what he can’t. He only holds your hand for a second before dropping it but it feels like an eternity.
“That’s okay,” you say sweetly. “Your opinion is important to me, too.”
Then, and Miguel is familiar with this by now, you get this look on your face like you’re going to make a joke, one that’s bad but will probably make him smile anyway. “If you still feel bad, you can always go and apologise to her,” you say, a cheek to your tone that Miguel adores more than he’d ever admit.
Miguel groans. You both know he’d never stoop that low. He smiles for the first time in what feels like forever.
“Would you do it for me?” He asks in a strained sort of voice, half joking and half serious.
You burst into giggles. Miguel feels his heart soar.
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satrs · 10 months
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𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐰𝐬 II 1
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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ᴬ young mother meets a single father, not knowing what that encounter meant for both her and his future.
ꜰᴇᴀᴛ���ʀɪɴɢ; ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 2.3k (this will props have a part 2. it 100% will)
Tags; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI. mention of children(obv). Mention of reader smoking. age gap(reader in early 20‘s toji in late 30‘s). nsfw content. fluff. Angst(?). Unprotected sex.
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You were at your breaking point.
First, you unexpectedly get pregnant at the young age of 18, not even done with college or anything to be able to take care of an infant.
And then, the father of your child took his legs into hand and run off, the idea of settling down with a child at such a young age was a thorn in his eye.
Here you were, all alone with a child in your belly.
But it will be alright. You’re strong, you would manage.
Even though the pregnancy was unexpected and a shock at first, you were quick to love the child inside of you, despite not knowing it yet.
This reminder always got you going, standing up when you fell. You did this all for the baby, for its well-being. You would try to be the best mother possible for the child, trying to give it everything it needed and desired.
And you were right. You made it. It was a rocky and hard way, but in the end, you managed. And your child was doing perfectly. That’s all that mattered.
You were now 21, your child was already born and the best and most perfect child a mother could ask for. It was a girl, such a sweet one at that, always smiling and beaming out of joy.
But it was still hard. At the age of 21 with a low-paid job like you had, you were trying to make ends meet and tried really hard to provide everything for your 3-year-old daughter.
Even if that meant working overtime and multiple jobs at a time.
And even if that meant working in that shithole you’re currently busy in right now.
You hated working in that bar, your boss being the biggest asshole you‘ve ever met(after the father of your child) by not having any regard for you being a mother, letting you work horrendous hours which leave you so exhausted that you can have little to no time with your daughter.
It would be better to quit but, where should the money come from then? The other jobs didn’t pay you enough, your main source being this.
„Here’s your order sir. Anything else to tend to your needs?“ you earned a quick thank you from the older raven-haired man seated on the barstool, „yes one beer, please. My son should be here any minute now. Those kids are always so damn late.“
You softly laughed at his little rant, earning a light chuckle from the man himself. „Ya should reallyyy think bout it before ya have some kids, pretty girl.“
Your heart thumped in your chest at his sneaky compliment, „Oh I already have one little girl. But luckily she’s not much trouble yet.“
The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise," Wow really? How old?"
"Three. And your son?" "That brat is seventeen now. It gets tough to handle his attitude all by myself, to be honest."
You smile at him out of sympathy, writing down the order he previously wished for. Alone? Is he a single parent like you? A good-looking one at that.
"You're a good lookin momma, you that?", you chuckled at his words and before you could return the compliment, your conversation with the handsome man got disturbed by the shrill sound of your boss's voice.
"You! Get your ass here!“, he shouted out of the door to the staff room, his voice as painful in the ear as nails scratching onto a chalkboard.
You sighed in irritation, biting goodbye to the handsome man and handing his order to another bartender, making your way to the asshole of a boss.
„What?“, you questioned, clearly irritated by his behavior. „Don’t ‚what‘ me. Stop getting all cuddly with my customers and just do your damn job or you can go home to that little rat of a daughter and eat from the trash.“
Your brows frowned in anger, your next words spitting out like venom, „Don’t you dare speak about my daughter like that you fucking bastard.“
„I talk however the fuck I want. I‘m your boss.“
You breathed out a pity laugh at his answer. „Like hell, you are.“ with that, you stomped out of the room, back behind the bar, too furious to notice the older man and his now-present son looking at you in confusion.
Throwing off your apron and throwing it onto the sink, your coworker looked at you in worry. „what’s wrong?“
„That dickhead in there is wrong! I‘m not working in this shithole any longer!“ you shouted, not caring for the eyes of the customers on you. hell- you even wanted them to hear what an asshole your boss was.
At the loud sound of your voice, your boss stepped out, rage visible on his face, as he made his way towards you.“Then get the hell out for all I care! Go and whore yourself out to feed that fucking child!“
„You should watch how you’re talkin‘ to a lady, sir.“
A familiar voice rang in your ear, the dark-haired male placing a hand on the enraged man's shoulder, causing him to shut up on the spot in fear.
You took this as your chance to huff out a pitiful breath at your former boss, stepping out of the bar and throwing on your jacket.
You're doomed. What the hell did you just do? How ridiculously stupid can one be, to quit the job you desperately needed to feed the child you had at home?
You pulled out a cigarette in frustration, searching for your lighter that you desperately tried to find, to no avail. "Fuck."
Your face contoured into an annoyed expression, frustrated that you couldn't even calm yourself with a smoke.
"You shouldn't smoke if you have kids pretty." You turned to the source of the voice, the man you served earlier extending his hand towards you, your lighter in it. The scar on his lip crinkled at the smirk he was flashing you, animating you to take the lighter out of his hand, turning your attention to the cigarette between your lips.
"Like you would care." Your venomous voice caused the man to laugh lowly, leaning himself against the wall right next to you, head turning in your direction, observing you. "I do."
his intense stare didn't bother you but somewhat startled you, causing you to flash him an irritated look. "Do you want something? Can't you read the room and get when someone wants to be alone?"
"Just felt like following ya. You're interesting ya know?" His gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, searching for an answer from you.
you finished your cigarette quickly, huffing out a breath at his answer, throwing the rest of the smoked-out stem to the ground, stomping on it before heading off.
"Need a ride?" He was quick to follow behind your trail, not showing any sign of leaving you so soon. What can he say? You were just the type of woman he would catch himself falling for and since he had a divorce almost 3 years ago, he felt like spicing up his single life a bit. You seemed to be the perfect candidate.
You wanted to turn and snap at him, but as you felt droplets of rain on your face, you figured it wouldn't be a bad idea. You still had some cash on you and would pay for the ride, and even if he would want you to pay for it in a different way, you wouldn`t mind. He was quite an eye-candy if you were being honest.
"What about your son?" He chuckled at that, "He'll be fine. Got here by himself so he can go back himself too." Your gaze was on him for some time before letting out a sigh.
„Alright fine.“
◇─◇──◇─◇
The drive was quiet, the older man sometimes taking a glance at you, making you nervous and looking out the window to escape his seducing gaze. „‚round the next corner right?“, he questioned, eyes fully turning in your direction when he stopped at a red light. The red light illuminated his face, beautiful features now more visible to you, not being able to tear your gaze off of his face.
„Huh?“, you questioned as your eyes flickered from his scar to his eyes, a smirk plastered on his face as he noticed you gawking.
„Your house.“, he said, a teasing smirk still glued to his face. „Oh yea. Right around there.“ He huffed out a small laugh at you, causing you to feel the heat rising up your face as you quickly returned your gaze to the window.
„So where’s yer little one?“, he questioned, quickly earning your attention back. „She’s at a friend's. She always is when I’m working this late.“
He hummed in an understanding manner. „What ‚bout the daddy?“ He was just so curious to know if you were taken or just like him, a single parent.
The empathetic part of him wished for you to have a partner, feeling bad for you to go through such a moment alone, with little to no help. But the other part hoped so desperately for your apartment to be empty and rocking your shit. Or in his car, he would accept both, no need to be picky.
You twisted your fingers, hand nervously brushing the back of your neck, „Not here.“ he noticed that you didn’t really want to talk about this topic, quickly dropping it. So he was right, you were just like him.
But damn did he feel bad for you. He couldn‘t imagine being in your shoes since he didn’t have to raise small Megumi alone, only since he was about 13 years old, a young teen. But you with a small three-year-old? It must be tough.
The car was quiet as he parked in front of your apartment, eyes glancing at your nervous form. You bid out a small thank you, not knowing what else to do. By the looks of it, he would clearly not need any money, if you take his experience car into consideration. Sex? He probably has a wife at home.
„Nahhh don’t say that. My pleasure.“ his smirk motioned you to nervously smile, unsure of what to say. „I don’t get much money but-„ he hushed you, hand placed on top of yours, stopping you from taking out your wallet.
„Nah doll don’t do me like that. You know I can’t take anything from such a pretty one like you.“ Wow so, definitely no wife I guess, you thought to yourself.
„But I can’t just leave, I‘m not like that.“ he looked out the window of your side in thought, an idea coming up his mind as he caught a quick glance of your plush thighs, nervously squished together.
God, he almost took you right then and there. But he had to get his mind straight. „Do ya got beer?“
◇─◇──◇─◇
Yeah sure, he wanted a beer, nothing else. Nonono you’re not getting this right. He didn’t actually plan to be in this position right now, your legs thrown over his shoulder as his cock was deep inside your fluttering cunt- he just wanted a beer, promise!
Oh, who was he trying to fool? He almost jumped out of joy as you offered him to stay at yours for the night since it was kind of late. And when you offered to fuck him with those innocent eyes and teasing voice of yours? Something else down there jumped too.
"Just like that pretty. Give it to me." Your hips bucked up, chasing the feeling of his massive girth filling you up so damn well, mewling as he groaned into your neck. This had to be the best and worst day of your life. Yes, you did get fired but fuck- getting laid after what seemed like forever? A fever dream.
His hand squeezed the fat of your ass, placing a harsh slap at it. "Oh fuck!", you moaned out, head thrown back into the sheets as you felt his pelvic bone grinding against your clit, only adding to the pleasure. "T-this gotta be the best fucking pussy I ever had-fuck! So damn tight." His movements only picked up, leaving you almost completely breathless as your body rubbed up and down along the sheets, your hands clawing at the older man's back, most definitely leaving marks on it.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum.", you stated, biting your lip hard as you felt the odd but familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach, toes curling as you felt a tingle roll down your spine. "Yeah? C'mon, cream all 'round my cock."
His words and the feeling of his tongue flicking your nipple was all it took for you to cum, back arching into his chest and walls fluttering around his length as you subconsciously bucked your hips into his, curses falling from his lips at your action.
"That's right, fuckkk- I'll fill ya up yeah? Sounds good?" he teased, eager to see your reaction, your eyes shot wide open, shaking your head violently no, still coming down from your high. He chuckled at your reaction, "Don't worry pretty, just kiddin'." You relaxed at his words, moans still fleeing your lungs because of the overwhelming feeling of his cock filling you up so well. It's been so long since you had sex, such a good one at that. This might be the best fuck of your entire life.
With a couple more sloppy strokes, he swiftly pulled out of your abused hole, the head was thrown back and Adam's apple throbbed as he released all of his semen all over your thighs and stomach, some even landing on your tits.
He plopped down beside you, the both of you catching your breath, silence filling the once loud room. He broke through the silence, turning his head to look at your exhausted form. "What's your name gorgeous?"
You looked at him confused before wholeheartedly laughing at his question, causing the man to let a sly smirk creep up his lips.
"Y/N.", you said, wiping the tears of joy off your face, now your turn to ask him the same question. "Some call me Daddy and some call me Toji." He shrugged, making you chuckle again.
You moved up to get yourself cleaned up, glancing at the clock as you realized. "Fuck, they'll be here soon-" Just as those words left your mouth the doorbell rang, causing the man to sit up on the bed out of curiosity.
"Shit, shit shit!", you paced around the room, taking a hanky to quickly wipe off the evidence Toji left on you, looking for something to dress up.
Toji was quick to dress up in his boxers and throw on his shirt. "Calm down. It's ya daughter yeah? Ya can dress up in peace, I'll get it."
You looked at him skeptically, unsure if you could trust this stranger you just met today. Before you could decline and get to the door yourself the bell rang again, causing you to panic. "Fuck! Alright go, hurry! Tell my friend I'm upstairs- cleaning! You're the plumber or something."
He moved in the direction of the door after chuckling. "A plumper in boxers?" You groaned in frustration, unable to get out of this situation. You couldn't possibly get the door while you were here, butt booty naked with cum on you. "Just go!"
He was quick to open the door, your friend's and daughter's eyes widening in shock, the unfamiliar face startling them. As he looked at your daughter he noticed how similar she looked to you, the same gorgeous eyes and hair, causing him to flash her a bright smile.
"Hey, little one. Yer momma is upstairs. C'mon, get in." He motioned your friend inside. She flashed a nervous smile, carefully stepping into your apartment with your daughter in her arms.
You never had guys over at your place, especially not older ones like him. What was going on?
You soon came to view, haptically running towards your daughter and taking her in your arm as you placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Hey, baby. Mommy missed you so much!"
She only looked at you confused, causing you to look up at your friend, a similar expression on her face. It was an awkward silence before your daughter's words broke through it,
"Mommy, is that daddy?"
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©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!
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Spring Fling
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(gif by @pedropascalsx. I've given up using Tumblr gif search)
Pairing: Marcus Pike x virgin f!Reader
Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)
Word Count: 19,228. Oops.
Warnings: Significant age gap (almost 20 years), college-age reader, sexual tension, mentions of: strained familial relationships, divorce, unhealthy breakups, stalker(ish) behavior (PAST), therapy. Virgin/inexperienced reader, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected PIV sex and a lot of it, comeplay if you squint, Marcus’s filthy filthy mouth, happy ending
Summary: When you and your friend, fellow pre-Law student Emma, plan to go to Washington DC for spring break instead of the typical beach destination, she makes plans for the two of you to stay with her estranged father for the week to save money on lodging. You never expected Emma’s father, a man she says she’s barely seen throughout the years, to be so sweet, so troubled, and so unfairly pretty. Neither did you expect for what you'd thought was a one-sided attraction to turn into a spring fling... or maybe something more.
A/N: I got an ask asking about 'Best Friend's Dad' Marcus Pike, so I now post a question to you, dear reader: What if Marcus Pike had a college-age kid from his first marriage, one that he'd entered into at a very young age because of an unplanned pregnancy? Anyway to find out the answer read this almost 20k fic LOL
Masterlist
"We should go somewhere for spring break."
Your friend and fellow pre-Law student at the University of Texas, Emma, laughs. "Go somewhere? Like what, the fucking beach? And with what money?"
"No, no beaches. Somewhere cool. Somewhere unusual."
"Like what?" Emma asks, shoving another handful of chips in her mouth.
"I've never been to Washington, DC," you comment thoughtfully.
"I thought every public school in the entire country went to DC at some point," Emma remarks. 
"I had the chickenpox."
"Ew."
"Do you think that would be fun? Going to the Capitol for break?" you ask.
"I guess," Emma shrugs. "It's better than going to writhe on the beach with fifty thousand wasted twentysomethings."
"There's still the issue of how to pay for a trip. For any trip. I think I could cover airfare, but a DC hotel? Ugh," you say with a groan. 
"I could put the hotel on my credit card and work a bunch of extra shifts at Pizza Express afterward to make up for it," Emma says. "But that would pretty much max out my card."
"I can look up the cheapest spots outside the city," you suggest. "And we can take the metro in."
"Outside the city isn't going to be much better," Emma remarks. "We could… nah."
You look up, curious. "We could… what?"
"Well, my uh, my dad actually lives in DC."
"Your dad?" you repeat incredulously. "You've literally never mentioned your dad. I thought he and your mom were estranged?"
"Sorta," Emma says. "The official story is that they married too young and eventually separated."
"...And the unofficial story?"
"My mom found out she was pregnant at nineteen, and my dad wanted to do the right thing, so he married her. But I guess they weren't right for each other, because they were already divorced by the time I was two."
"Do you see him much?" you ask.
"I used to," Emma says quietly. "But my mom was never really enthusiastic about spending much time together, so it wasn’t very often. And then he moved to DC when I was a junior in high school, and I haven't seen him since. He always sends me cards on my birthday and Christmas, though. And…" she suddenly blushes, looking down and away.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What, Em?"
"He pays for my tuition."
"What?!"
"Yeah, I've barely had to take out any loans. It's just for housing and stuff."
"You ass, you never told me that!"
"It's not common knowledge," Emma mumbles. "Besides, no one wants to admit they've got an absent, divorced father paying the bills."
"But you'd want to contact him for this? For a place to crash over spring break for a week?"
"He's nice," Emma says quietly. "I always got the feeling that he wanted to do his best by us."
"I mean, if you're cool with it, it kinda sounds fun," you admit. "Better than Galveston, anyway."
Emma laughs. "Yeah, way better than Galveston."
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"Holy shit, Em, you can see the Capitol from here." 
The two of you had emerged from the underground tunnel of the metro station, trailing suitcases behind you, into what feels like the middle of the city itself. The busy street is flanked with large condominiums on both sides, with--unbelievably--a view of the Capitol building in the distance.
"I think it's this one," Emma says, squinting at the address on her phone and back up at one of the buildings. 
"How do we get in?" you ask. 
"He just said to text him," Emma answers. "Hang on." She taps out a message on her phone before sliding it back into her pocket. "And now we wait."
You barely have time to check your email before the front door opens and a man emerges, striding quickly toward the two of you. You think he's about to envelop your friend into a crushing hug, but he stops short, eyes wavering with uncertainty as he looks his daughter up and down. His hand reaches toward her arm, but he hesitates just short of touching.
"Emma," the man breathes, the emotion evident in his voice making you want to duck your head and turn away from the scene. 
"Hey, uh, Dad," Emma says, giving him a sheepish smile. "Been a while."
"It's been six years," the man says emphatically. 
"Yeah."
You watch as Emma's father's fingers twitch toward her. "C-Can I–" 
Emma shrugs. "'Course."
The man carefully steps forward and wraps his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. His eyes close, his eyebrows pull upward to reveal a deep crease in between them as he holds his daughter for apparently the first time in six years. This time, you do look away from what feels like surprisingly tender and private moment. 
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for your graduation," you hear him say softly. "I was undercover for a case, and… Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm sorry. You don't know how badly I wanted to be there."
"S'okay," Emma says cooly. She steps back, and, for the first time, her father seems to notice you. 
"Hi," he says brightly, and his pained, heartfelt expression melts into an easy smile as he extends his hand to you. "Marcus." 
You don't know what you had been expecting. Maybe someone older. Maybe someone less… attractive. Not this frankly gorgeous man, with his boyish smile, pretty eyes that crinkle around the edges, slightly mussed brown hair that falls over his forehead, and the light smattering of facial hair that only seems to soften his features further. Not that he needed any help, in that respect. Slightly stunned, you step forward and take the man’s hand, trying not to trip over the syllables of your own name.
Marcus’s smile widens, and he repeats your name, which does nothing to quell the sudden burst of butterflies in your stomach–and are your palms sweating?
"Thank you for allowing us to stay for the week," you say politely, forcing yourself out of the trance.
"Not a problem," Marcus answers. "What a great destination for spring break! Whose idea was that?"
"Mine," you say with a little laugh. 
"My kind of girl," Marcus jokes. "Keeping my daughter out of trouble."
"Dad," Emma groans. "I'm not a kid."
"Well, last time I saw you, you were fifteen," Marcus says pointedly. "You're gonna have to let my brain do a little catch-up, here."
"Well, to start with, I'm not a beach party kind of person," Emma says. "I'm a nerd–y'know, being pre-Law and all."
Emma's father beams. "So I've heard. Well, I'm happy to host two nerds while they do a little sightseeing in the nation's Capitol. I can even," he adds with a conspiratorial smile, "give you a tour of the J. Edgar Hoover building. If–If you want," he finishes awkwardly, appearing hesitant and unsure again.
"Oh, cool!" you exclaim automatically, without thinking.
Marcus grins widely at your enthusiasm, and you find yourself staring at your shoes, biting your lip as you flounder under his attention. You're being weird. Stop it. 
"Y-Yeah," Emma adds, nodding hesitantly. "That would be nice... Dad. Thanks."
“C’mon,” Marcus says, grabbing both Emma’s bag and, before you can protest, yours. “Come on up. I ordered some pizza for everyone. You can get settled tonight and… go do whatever you two want to do in the morning.”
The two of you follow Marcus through the lobby and into the elevator. You can’t help but keep stealing little glances at him–the way his shoulders fill out the maroon henley he’s wearing over jeans, the way those shoulders taper down to narrow hips, the way he’s got the top two buttons of his shirt casually undone, showing you a hint of collarbone that has you damn-near salivating. Snap out of it. Oh, God, snap out of it. You’ve known the man for five minutes, and you feel like you’re losing your mind. It’s gonna be a long week if you don’t pull it together. 
Marcus opens the front door and gestures the two of you in before him. You stand awkwardly in the living room, looking around at the furniture and at the decor on the walls, looking anywhere but at your best friend’s dad, whose very presence seems to fluster you beyond all reason.
“I just have one spare room, hopefully you two don’t mind sharing…?” Marcus asks.
“That’s fine,” Emma says good-naturedly. 
“It’s just through here,” he says, walking past you. “I’ll set your bags down in there and show you around.”
The room is clearly his workspace–there’s a desk and a chair shoved into a corner to make room for a comfortable-looking guest bed. The side wall is covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and you subconsciously step toward them, eager to see what titles this man keeps on his shelves.
“Sorry, it’s kind of an… all-purpose room,” Marcus says sheepishly. “Bit cluttered.”
“I like it,” you murmur absentmindedly, still scanning the spines.
“‘Gardner’s Art Through the Ages’” Emma reads, crinkling her nose. “How many editions of this book do you have?”
Her father laughs. “It’s work stuff, mostly. Although there’s a few thrillers here and there. And some classics.” He approaches the shelves as well, and you can feel the hair on the back of your neck start to stand up on end at the sensation of his body hovering just behind you. You’re so… aware of him. You don’t know if it’s because Marcus seems to naturally command every space he’s in or if there’s something electric that’s pulling you toward him, but either way, your entire body feels as though it’s on high alert.
A sharp buzzing makes you jump comically, making Emma snort.
“That’ll be the pizza,” Marcus announces. “Be right back.”
You glance over at Emma, who is still staring disinterestedly at the bookshelves. “It’s a nice place,” you say conversationally. 
“Mmmhm.”
“You okay?” you ask softly.
“Oh, yeah,” Emma scoffs, waving her hand. “Just been a while. It’s weird. You know.”
“He seems nice,” you say.
“He is,” she remarks. “I told you he was. I just… don’t know him very well. Like he said, I haven’t seen him in six years.”
“Maybe this will be good, then,” you suggest. “Get to know him now that you’re an adult and all that.”
Emma shrugs. “Maybe.”
You look back at the shelves. Emma was right; Marcus does have an alarmingly large number of editions of Art Through the Ages. You furrow your brow.
“What does your dad do in DC?”
“Oh, did I not tell you? He’s in the FBI.”
You feel as though you’ve swallowed your tongue, but before you can garble out a response–something like, “Mmmgnnbbllgffnhh?”–you hear Marcus coming back.
“Get it while it’s hot!” he says cheerfully. “You guys must be hungry after traveling all day.”
“Oh wow, Dad, that’s… a lot of pizza for three people,” Emma says, her eyebrows raising in surprise and confusion.
She’s right–there are five boxes sitting on the small kitchen island, along with several options of drink.
“I had no idea what either of you liked,” Marcus reasoned. “So I got a few different options. Cheese, pepperoni, supreme, hawaiian, and some kind of vegan thing, just in case.”
“You know, you could have just texted,” Emma remarks, at the same time that you whisper, “Thank you.”
Marcus looks sheepish. “Wanted to surprise you. Anyway, dig in–there’s obviously a lot.” He laughs quietly to himself, grabbing three plates and setting them down on the counter. You grab three different kinds–supreme, hawaiian, and the vegan option, out of curiosity–and sit on one of the barstools opposite Marcus. Emma grabs two cheeses and sits down next to you.
“So,” he says after a few minutes of surprisingly companionable silence. “I know Emma is pre-Law. Are you pre-Law too?” he asks, looking at you with a friendly, curious smile. 
“Mmmhmm,” you nod, tight-lipped. You hate this conversation–the college-age version of ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ Everyone asks the question with good intent, but it always leaves you in an anxiety spiral, an existential crisis, because no matter how many times you’re asked, you have absofuckinglutely no idea. 
“What kind of law do you want to go into?” This question is addressed more to Emma, who immediately launches into an explanation of Environmental Law and the impact of climate change on public health. Marcus nods eagerly, giving Emma his full attention as she talks, watching her with a small smile. 
“What about you?” he asks when she’s done, turning to you.
You gulp. 
“I don’t—I don’t really know. Not yet, anyways.” You brace yourself for the judgmental eyebrow raise, the well-meaning advice.
“That’s okay,” Marcus says, smiling. “No one says you have to have it figured out at… how old are you?”
“T-Twenty,” you mumble, feeling more naive and inexperienced than you ever have before.
“Nah,” Marcus says, shaking his head playfully. “No one has it figured out at twenty. And the people who think they do? They change.”
His eyes go far away for a split-second, and you wonder what he must have been like at twenty. Did he already have Emma at that point? Did he just find out that his girlfriend was pregnant? Was he panicking, trying to figure out how to make things work? You wonder what it was that he had wanted to do, and what he had sacrificed for Emma and her mom. You wonder if he had wanted the divorce, or if she had been the one to suggest it.
“Anyway,” Marcus says, casually waving a slice of pepperoni as he talks, “I mostly work with criminal lawyers. If that’s something you’re interested in, I could arrange a chat with someone this week.”
“Oh,” you say, too stunned to say anything else. “Yeah, maybe.”
Marcus shrugs good-naturedly. “Think about it,” he says, giving you another crooked grin. His eyes crinkle around the edges when he smiles, and it makes your stomach do somersaults. 
“Yeah,” you say again, a little breathlessly. Your next bite of pizza misses your mouth entirely, and you manage to stab yourself in the cheek with your slice, transferring a glob of tomato sauce onto your face in the process.
Emma laughs, and Marcus’s eyes glitter with amusement as you frantically reach for a napkin. 
“So you do, um… FBI stuff?” you ask him clumsily, trying to break the silence.
“Yep. FBI Stuff. Says it on my badge and everything.”
“Why do you have a bunch of art books?”
“I lead an international task force dealing with art crimes,” he answers patiently. 
“What constitutes an art crime?” Emma asks, her mouth full.
“Theft,” Marcus lists, “forgeries, black market sales, dealing in antiquities, looting of archaeological sites…”
“Oh, wow,” you breathe, a dopey smile on your face. Emma shoots you a funny look.
“So it’s like, nerdy FBI stuff,” she says.
“The nerdiest,” Marcus agrees, smiling.
“Do you still have a gun and stuff?”
“I do,” Marcus says carefully, frowning slightly. “It’s in the safe for the week, though, while you’re here.”
Your stomach flip-flops at the mental image of Emma’s dad holding a gun, those warm brown eyes dark with focus as he stares down… an art thief. Or something. 
“Enough about your old man,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “What are you two looking to do tomorrow on your first day in DC?”
“Think we’ll hit the museums,” Emma says. “Get them out of the way first. We want to see the Library of Congress, obviously. Plus walking around to all the monuments and stuff. Oh, and the zoo!”
“Do you want my advice?” Marcus asks, and you both nod. “It’s supposed to be unseasonably warm tomorrow, and sunny. I’d do the monument tour or the zoo tomorrow if I were you. Save the indoor stuff for the end of the week, because it’s supposed to rain.”
“Monuments it is!” Emma exclaims. “Hey, can I… can I use your shower? I feel kinda gross from the travel day.”
“Absolutely.” Marcus hops up, leading Emma over to the guest bathroom. You listen as he points out a stack of towels intended for the two of you during your stay, the extra shampoo he’d bought, the spare toothbrushes just in case… Eventually he returns, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking hesitant again.
“Thank you,” you say again. “You went through a lot of trouble, and–”
“It’s no trouble,” Marcus says quickly. “No trouble at all. I–I have to admit I was surprised when Em–when she called, but I’m–I’m more than happy to host you two for the week. It’s no trouble at all,” he repeats.
“Okay,” you say dumbly. You’re staring again, unable to help the way your eyes are drawn to the way his arms fill out the shirt he's wearing when his hands are in his pockets like that. 
"You alright?" 
Your eyes flit up to his at the question. He's looking back at you, his head cocked to the side as he watches you. And suddenly, you can just tell–you can tell that he knows how flustered you are in front of him. 
You nod rapidly up and down in response, not trusting yourself to answer.  
"Good. Had enough pizza?"
"Mmhmm."
"Anything else to drink?" he asks. 
"Got any beer?" you ask with a quirk of your eyebrow.
"You told me you were twenty," Marcus reminds you. 
"Oh."
"And I work for law enforcement," he says gravely. 
Oh. 
"Oh, f-fuck, I um… I was kidding. Holy shit. I'm sorry. Seriously, I'm not a-a bad… student, or anything. I swear, I–"
As you continue to frantically backtrack, you realize that Marcus’s shoulders are shaking with laughter. 
"Oh, you're funny. Real funny. Ha. Ha."
"Next you'll be saying I should quit my day job," he says, his eyes sparkling. 
"I'm not sure what kind of art… crime… solver… you are, but I have to believe you're a better agent than you are a comedian," you deadpan. 
"You can come to my stand-up show on Tuesday and see for yourself."
Your jaw drops before you realize Marcus's lips are quivering with the effort of keeping a straight face. 
"You're on fire, tonight," you say, rolling your eyes. 
"You'll have to forgive me," he says, a gentle, more wistful smile gracing his lips. "I don't have company often, and it's been even longer since I've seen–" his eyes flick to the bathroom door, and he looks troubled for a moment. 
"Strictly off the record, if you do want a beer, I happen to have some," he says, changing the subject and smiling back at you again. 
"Nah, I'll save that favor for later in the week," you tell him.
"Noted," Marcus replies. He's looking at you again, still. He seems to be one of those people who gives all of his focus to someone when they speak, and the attention is starting to overwhelm you. 
"Hey!" Emma calls from the guest bedroom. "I wanna get started early tomorrow. Those monuments aren't gonna monument themselves."
You laugh and roll your eyes. "That's my cue," you say with a little smile. "Gonna grab a shower myself and call it a night."
"If you need anything, I'm a room away," Marcus says, but it only serves to remind you that this man will be sleeping in the next room.
"Got it," you say, nodding thickly. "Um, good night."
"Good night," he answers softly. 
When you reach the bathroom door, you turn around again–you can't help yourself. 
He's still looking at you. 
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"Get up!
"Get up!"
"GET–"
"Okay!" you whine, throwing an extra pillow in the general direction of Emma's voice. "Fuck. I'm up."
You throw on a pair of jeans and a faded tee, scrubbing your hands over your face as you stumble out of the guest room and into the kitchen, where Marcus hands you a cup of coffee, which you accept with a grunt.
"Emma warned me that you weren't a morning person," he says. 
"God, it's both of you, isn't it?" you grumble. "Morning people."
"I guess we turned out alike after all," Marcus says with a soft smile, watching as you take a grateful sip from the mug. "What's the first stop on the list?"
"I dunno, she's got it all planned out," you murmur. "Of like, seeing the farthest place first and working our way back."
"Sounds like a plan," Marcus says. "You two have fun."
"What are you doing today?" Emma interjects, coming into the kitchen, grabbing a bagel off of the counter, and stuffing it into her mouth. 
"Well, it's Sunday, so… grocery shopping," Marcus says. "Any special requests?"
"Filet mignon," Emma says. 
"You got it. Want some lobster tails as well?"
"Mmhmm."
"I was thinking more along the lines of spaghetti and meatballs. Anything else you ladies would like?"
Emma shuffles her feet, and you frown slightly. You've never known her not to immediately say what's on her mind–and clearly, something is. 
"What is it, Emmie?" Marcus asks softly.
"Do you remember that one time that we came to your family's for Christmas–I think I was maybe twelve?–and you made…"
"...Tamales?" Marcus asks, his eyebrows shooting upward. 
"Yeah," Emma answers, her voice smaller than you've ever heard it. "I still remember those. They were really good."
"Jesus, I haven't made those in…" he shakes his head. "I don't even know. But uh, sure. We can do that. Tamale night. It's a deal."
"Thanks," Emma says, smiling. "And… really? 'Emmie?' Dad, I'm not seven anymore."
"My mistake," Marcus says with a playful wink in your direction–which might make your heart stop. "You girls stay safe. Text if you need anything."
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Marcus was right–the weather is beautiful today. It’s perfect for walking endlessly from monument to monument, which you do all morning. You try to stay focused–thoughtfully reading the names on the Vietnam War Memorial and not thinking about Emma’s dad, in the plain white t-shirt he had been wearing this morning, in the produce section picking out apples. Even worse, you try not to imagine the sight of him cooking tonight.
He’s becoming a bit of an obsession for you, you can admit it. You want to know everything about him–what his job is like, what he does on the weekends, what he likes to read, what he did in the past to alienate the mother of his child enough that he’s barely seen his daughter–who he very clearly cares deeply for…
As you walk around the Washington Monument, you can’t stand it any longer. 
“Sooooo. It seems like things are going well between you and your dad,” you say conversationally.
“How do you mean?” 
“Less awkward, I guess.”
“It’s not that we don’t get along,” Emma says with a shrug. “We always used to. Like I said, I always thought he was nice. My mom…” 
“She didn’t like him?”
“She didn’t want to be around him. I don’t know why. They tried to protect me from the messy parts of divorce, but part of that means that I have no idea what their history is. She never talked about it. Neither did he.”
“Huh.” You stare in silence at the large white obelisk. “I wonder what happened.”
“I thought about asking my mom,” Emma says. “Lots of times, but I never got up the courage.”
“You should ask him,” you say quietly. “I get the feeling he needs to tell the story.”
Emma gives you a funny look. “That’s a weird thing to say.”
You shrug. “I’m weird.”
“Fair.”
The two of you walk until it feels as though your feet are going to fall off. 
“My feet are going to fall off,” you announce. “Surely there are no more monuments in the entirety of Washington, DC.”
“We’ve still got the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.”
“Uggghhhh, how important can he be? He’s unknown.”
“This was your idea,” Emma points out. “Go to DC for spring break! Stay with my best friend’s estranged dad! Walk around and see all the monuments and shit!”
“Too many steps,” you groan. “They should all be concentrated in one square mile of land.”
“One more,” Emma promises. “And then spaghetti.”
“And laying on the couch watching TV,” you counter.
“And laying on the couch watching TV,” Emma agrees. “...And tomorrow we go to the zoo.”
“No!”
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Marcus chuckles as you stumble into his condo just after six. You immediately collapse onto the couch with an exaggerated groan.
“I’m staying right here for the rest of the week,” you announce.
“It’s been one day,” Marcus points out. 
“My phone’s step counter measures over thirty thousand steps,” you mumble. “I’m done.”
“That’s a lot,” Marcus concedes. “Hopefully that means the two of you are hungry this evening.”
“Fucking starving,” Emma agrees, crashing onto the couch herself and nearly colliding with you as she does so. 
“Well, since everyone is so tired,” Marcus says, the playfulness evident in his voice, “I’ll make spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Tamales are a group effort, so you two better be ready to work for your food.”
“I shall endeavor to do so,” Emma remarks with an exaggerated accent, causing you to laugh giddily. 
While Emma’s eyes are closed, you take advantage, watching Marcus–still with that same fitted white shirt–in the kitchen, boiling water, heating the sauce, and adding the meatballs. He must sense your gaze, because he turns, a characteristic crooked smile on his lips as he acknowledges you. 
“I know they’re frozen,” he admits, speaking of the meatballs, “but they always taste the same to me anyway.”
“I can’t wait,” you say, truthfully. “It’s been a long day.”
As if to demonstrate the fact, a loud snore emanates from the body next to you, making you grin.
“I’m glad you guys came,” Marcus says softly. “I don’t often have the opportunity to cook for… more than one.”
“No girlfriend?” you ask conversationally. 
Marcus laughs. “I’m… in between things, I suppose.”
“In between,” you parrot with a laugh. “How long have you been ‘in between?’”
He huffs. “Too long,” he murmurs. 
“How come?” you ask quietly.
Marcus frowns, thinking. “I dunno. No one recently has been… exactly what I’m looking for.”
“And what are you looking for?” you ask breathlessly.
“Spaghetti,” Emma mumbles from the couch.
“Spaghetti,” Marcus repeats, giving me a slightly melancholy smile. “Exactly. Come and get it, you two.”
Emma stirs, stumbling into the kitchen where two giant bowls of spaghetti and meatballs are awaiting the two of you.
“Holy shit,” she remarks. “Thanks for this.”
“Of course,” Marcus says. “I would never agree for you to stay and then not…” he trails off, unsure of himself.
You’re starting to realize that the bulk of Marcus’s most emotional statements go unsaid. I would ever agree for you to stay and then not take care of you, is what he hadn’t said. 
“Still doing the zoo tomorrow?” he asks, changing the subject, as always.
“Yup,” Emma answers.
He huffs, smiling wistfully. “Been ages since I’ve been to a zoo.”
“D’you wanna go?” you ask, before you can determine that it’s a bad idea.
Marcus looks at you, indecisive for a few seconds before he seemingly comes to his senses. “Nah,” he says, grinning. “You two have fun.”
“Are you sure?” Emma asks. “Apparently there’s a new panda baby.”
“That’s a hard bargain,” he admits.
“You should come with,” Emma decides. “It could be fun.”
“All right,” Marcus agrees hesitantly.
“It’s Monday,” you point out. “Don’t you have to work?”
“I’ll call off,” he answers quickly. “Not everyday one’s daughter is in town for an impromptu zoo trip.”
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“Look at the little lad,” Emma gushes. 
“The what?” Marcus asks. 
The three of you are staring at the panda enclosure, watching the newest addition to the zoo cause chaos.
“The chonky boi,” you agree.
“I have no idea what you two are saying,” Marcus admits. 
“The baby panda is cute,” Emma offers. 
“That I can agree on,” he decides.
The three of you, you’ve decided, make a good team. You try not to think about how your heart burns whenever Marcus looks at you, how your stomach does flips whenever he laughs. If you’re going to be a good friend to Emma–and you are–you’re going to have to put this silly crush aside and accept the fact that he’s a package deal with your best friend. 
That doesn’t stop the way the man looks at you, though. 
You think you’re imagining it, at first. After all, Marcus seems to be the type of person who focuses completely on whatever anyone has to say. The more you’re with him, though, it’s hard to deny that he seems to look at you just a tiny bit longer.
You start to notice it all day–when you’re looking at the exhibits, Marcus is looking at you. 
He’s watching your reaction to them–smiling when you smile, laughing when you laugh. You can’t parse out the meaning behind his actions–does it mean something? If so, what? What does it mean? 
You can’t admit the truth to yourself until you’re in the insect house. Emma is giddy with interest, and you… are trying. 
“Are you okay?” Marcus asks softly in your ear–and you try not to shiver.
“Great,” you squeak. “Just don’t love the bird-eating spider.”
“I don’t like them either,” he confesses with a smile. “Do you need to leave?”
“Idunno,” you mumble, slurring the words together. 
“Emmie,” Marcus announces, “we’re going to take a little break, okay?”
“Mmm.” 
You and Marcus escape into the bright sunshine, and you let out an awkward laugh. “I can’t believe they have some of them loose in there–without glass or anything!”
“I’m not going back in that building,” Marcus agrees, laughing with you. “The giant orb weaver was the last straw.”
“That was awful,” you say, nodding.
“Come to think of it, I might be more of a baby panda guy, myself.”
“I’ll take the snakes over this,” you agree.
You sit down on a nearby bench, still giggling together as you wait for Emma.
“Is it weird if I say I’m glad you came?” you ask quietly.
“I’m glad I came, too,” Marcus says beside you.
“I think–” you begin, but Emma emerges from the insect house, grinning ear to ear.
“You think… what?” Marcus asks, but you shake your head and shrug.
“I dunno,” you mumble. “I just… think.”
“Hey, wimps,” Emma shouts. “They let me touch the tarantula.”
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Marcus takes the two of you out to dinner at a casual burger spot near his place. While the tension between him and Emma has lessened significantly since the first day, it feels as though it’s been replaced by a thick cloud of tension between the two of you. 
There’s something about the man that speaks to you, something within him that seems to vibrate on the same frequency as something within you. Twin souls, you’d say, if you were in a mind to be romantic, except… it can’t be. He must be nearly forty–and almost twice your age. There’s nothing you have that he would want–nothing you could offer a man who has his entire life together while yours has barely started.
Still, the way Marcus laughs at your jokes and gives you knowing glances–as if the two of you are sharing some type of inside joke that you’ve had for years–keeps you flustered and breathless throughout most of the evening.
The glass of wine he offers when you arrive home doesn’t help, either. You watch the red liquid swirl in your glass and wonder how it would taste from his lips, instead. And, when you’ve reached the bottom of your glass, the fuzzy-headed feeling you get from the alcohol combined with the way your stomach swoops in its place every time Marcus’s eyes meet yours has you feeling dizzy and enraptured in equal parts. 
When he locks eyes with you over the rim of his own glass as he drains the last sip, you freeze, afraid that you’d been caught out–that he can read every dumbstruck expression on your face and knows exactly what he does to you.
But all he does is shoot you a little smile, announce that he’s going to bed– “Back to work for me, tomorrow”–and leaves you in the living room alone with Emma, trying not to look as though you’re checking out her dad’s butt as he leaves the room. 
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The next day, you and Emma spend most of the day at the Library of Congress while Marcus is at work. As a result, neither of you are too tired to help when Marcus suggests making the tamales tonight. 
“I’m going to preface this by saying I’m not very good at making these,” he says with a laugh as he struggles with the dough. “My grandma only made these on special occasions, and I’ve done it myself approximately two times without her.”
“Well, the good news is that I’ve got no frame of reference,” you tell him. “So as long as they’re edible, they’ll be the best tamales I’ve ever had.”
Marcus chuckles and ducks his head; you can see the pink tinge on the tips of his ears as he continues to stir the mixture.
“Emmie, do you want to do the dough or the filling?” he asks. 
“Filling.”
“That leaves you with the fun part,” Marcus says to you with a playful wink. “You get to spread the dough out on the corn husks like this–” he frowns as a glob of dough gets stuck to the spatula. “I told you I’m not very good at this. But you get the idea.”
You really don’t; cooking has never been your strong suit. You do your best to spread the dough out, but after just a couple of repetitions, your fingers, your shirt, and the counter around you are sticky with dough. 
“This is not going very well,” you mumble. 
Marcus looks up from the tamale he’s currently folding and laughs joyfully. “That’s part of the process.”
“I really don’t feel like it is,” you shoot back. “It’s sticking to everything but the corn husks.”
“Here,” Marcus chuckles. And suddenly, he’s right behind you, his chest nearly touching your back as he reaches around you to gently guide your hands himself. “Like this.”
You can’t possibly focus on your task, not when you have to remind your body to keep breathing while Marcus’s hands are on you. Your eyes stare unseeingly down at the corn husk until he releases you. 
“Better?” he asks.
“Mmhm,” you hum, abnormally high-pitched.
“You’ve got some on your cheek,” he remarks with a soft smile. His thumb gently swipes across it, catching the stray dough and wiping it on a towel. 
In the end, the tamales are hideous, but they taste incredible. They might be the best meal you’ve ever had–or maybe it’s just the way Marcus had smiled proudly at you when your technique improved after his intervention.
After dinner, the three of you sit on the small couch and watch a movie.
“It’s in black and white,” Emma remarks, wrinkling her nose.
“Double Indemnity? It’s a classic!” Marcus protests.
“Old movies are always so boring,” Emma says. 
“It’s not boring,” he pouts. “The unhappy wife of a wealthy oil baron starts a dangerous, illicit love affair with an insurance salesman, and they hatch a plot to murder her husband and collect the insurance money.”
“That’s wild,” you laugh. “How have you seen this before?”
“I’ve always been told I’m an old soul.”
“Are you sure you’re not just old?” Emma teases.
“Hush. Watch the movie.”
The film is engaging, but all of the walking around of the past few days starts to catch up with you about halfway through. Before you know it, your eyes are drooping, and your head tips back on the couch cushion as you start to doze off. When you wake, the credits are rolling, and you’re no longer upright on the back of the couch.
You’re drooling on Marcus’s shoulder.
You startle, sitting back up with a frantic gasp and wiping your mouth in horror.
“Shh,” Marcus whispers, placing a calming hand on your forearm. “Emma fell asleep, too.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” you babble, taking in the little wet spot on his shirt.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he assures softly. “You’re tired. You needed the sleep.”
“Still,” you say. “I didn’t mean to…” you trail off awkwardly. 
“It’s okay,” Marcus repeats, even quieter still. His hand still rests on your forearm, his thumb subtly moving back and forth across your skin. 
Neither of you speak for what seems like an eternity, until finally, he breaks the spell.
“Should go to bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll wake up Emma. Go get some rest.”
“Marcus,” you whisper shakily.
“Go,” he whispers back. 
He squeezes your arm once, then releases you, and you reluctantly get up from the couch and cross to the guest bedroom door. You turn again, watching as Marcus gently smooths Emma’s hair back from her forehead as he rouses her from the couch. There’s so much tenderness in his eyes, and you wonder how much different he might be if Emma had been a more constant presence in his life. He seems so lonely–does he have friends outside of work, you wonder? Does he ever date? 
Emma sits up blearily and pads across the living room, walking past you and collapsing on the bed. You take one last look at Marcus, and follow her. 
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The next morning, you feel as though you could cut the tension between you and Marcus with a knife. There’s something there–and you both know it. He seems to be doing his best to ignore it, avoiding eye contact with you, and busying himself with pouring a thermos of coffee and messing with his tie absentmindedly as he gets ready to leave for work. 
“Where are you off to today?” he comments lightly.
“Smithsonian,” Emma answers. 
“Sounds fun. I’ve got a deposition this afternoon that’s probably going to run late, so go ahead and grab something for dinner while you’re out. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”
The only time Marcus’s eyes fall on you is in the moment just before he steps through the front door. He pauses, hand on the doorknob, and glances back in your direction, dark eyes watching you for a moment before he nods subtly and leaves.
It’s funny how just a simple, seconds-long moment of eye contact with this man can turn your insides to jelly. Your breath stutters as the door clicks shut, and you try to gather yourself again.
“What’s first?” Emma asks. “Natural History or Air and Space?”
You put Marcus out of your mind for most of the day, although he’s never far away; you’re able to call up the feel of his hand on your forearm at any given moment. You can imagine the burn of his eyes even as you walk through exhibit after exhibit.
True to his word, he’s not home for dinner. You and Emma grab sandwiches from a shop around the corner and eat them in the living room in front of the TV. It’s nearly seven when Marcus finally gets home, opening the door and greeting the two of you with a tired smile and a heavy sigh.
“How did it go?” Emma asks.
“Shit,” he answers, shooting her a crooked grin. “But I’ve got leftover tamales to look forward to, so the day is looking up.”
You watch another movie–Emma’s choice this time, and something a bit more current. You don’t fall asleep this time; you can’t, not with the way your body feels on high alert tonight. Marcus is sitting beside you again, as he was the night before, and all you can think about is how much you want to sink into his arms again–and this time, intentionally. You want to lay on his chest and have him wrap his arms around you; you want him to slowly turn and press you down on the cushions, to feel the weight of him on top of you, the light scrape of his beard on your neck, his breath in your ear.
A wave of arousal washes over you, heating your skin and sending a little trickle of damp into your underwear. You wonder if Marcus can feel it–feel the elevated warmth of your skin from where he’s sitting. You wonder if he can tell how much he affects you. 
When the movie ends, you can barely meet his eyes as you bid him goodnight, following Emma to your room. You can’t turn around to see if he’s watching you; you can’t stand another glance at that deep, burning gaze of his. 
Sleep evades you. You’re too hot, so you kick off the covers. Then you’re too cold, so you cover up again. You flip over the pillow, turn from your back to your stomach, and back again. The fantasy plays once more in your head: Marcus’s hand cradling the back of your neck as he kisses a path down your neck and to your chest. You want to feel the weight of him between your thighs, feel him pressing against your core. You’re dripping for him, and he doesn’t even know it. 
No one has ever done this to you, but he has. And he hasn’t even touched you. 
You wonder if he’d be bothered by the fact that you aren’t exactly sure what you’re doing in that department. You wonder if he’d be put off by your inexperience, or if he’d be happy to guide you in the act of pleasure. 
You’ve had a couple of fumbling encounters, rushed, frenzied moments as a teenager with boys who haphazardly stuffed a finger or two into you, but it didn’t feel like anything to you. Not really. No one has ever made you cum–just you, in the safety of your own bed at night, your fingers seeking relief that no one else has been able to provide.
Could he give it to you?
Your past experiences have been with boys; and Marcus is a man. 
Your legs shift, rubbing your thighs against each other as you try to find a more comfortable position.
You can’t find one.
Eventually, you give up–getting out of bed with a sigh. Maybe if you grab a drink of water and sit on the couch for a while, sleep will win out in the end. You pad into the kitchen, filling a cup in the sink and taking a few long sips. The cool water is a relief, so you run your hand underneath the water next and scrub it over your face. Finally sated, you set the cup down by the sink and turn.
To see Marcus sitting on the couch, dimly lit by the glow of his laptop screen.
You nearly double over with shock, the unexpected sight causing a spike of adrenaline to course through your body.
“Sorry,” he says apologetically. “Couldn’t sleep, so I was… catching up on work.”
The mirror image of a popular news site reflects through the glass picture frame behind the couch, exposing the tiny lie.
“Yeah, me neither,” you admit quietly. “Thought I’d sit out here for a while and see if that helps, but… sorry, I’ll leave you to it.” You make to turn back, to retreat to the room again, but Marcus speaks softly behind you.
“Come sit,” he says. “I don’t mind.”
Breath caught somewhere in your throat, you hesitantly sink down on the couch beside him. Marcus closes his laptop and sets it down on the coffee table, and the silence stretches out between you. 
“So, are you liking DC so far?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you answer eagerly. “I’m having a great time. I’ll… I’ll be sad to leave,” you admit. “Is that weird?”
“It’s weird if you’re talking about missing the Washington Monument,” Marcus teases. “Or the traffic.”
“I’m talking about the metro, obviously,” you joke. “The rest of the country could stand for some public transit options.”
“I’m not sure they should be taking their cues from DC,” he chuckles. 
“Pssh, I like it.”
“The novelty wears off, believe me.”
You lapse into silence again. You’re sitting close enough to Marcus that you can feel the warmth from his skin, even though you aren’t touching. You want to sink into him, to have him envelop you, consume you.
You feel yourself unconsciously shifting closer to him. 
Is it just your imagination, or did Marcus subtly lean closer to you?
The pull is inevitable; your eyes flick up to his, and you can almost feel the point of no return pass the two of you by. 
You lick your lips, and his breath catches in his throat.
“I wasn’t talking about the metro,” you say breathlessly. 
“I know.”
And suddenly, his lips are on yours. 
It’s not fast, not rushed or frantic; he doesn’t surge forward to take you. It’s simply that the two of you are close enough that at one moment, Marcus Pike is not kissing you, and then the next moment, he is. 
As with everything this man does, the kiss is soft and tender. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he gently tits his head as his lips move against yours. His mouth opens ever so slightly, and you feel a wave of pure want rush through you at the light flick of his tongue against your lower lip.
You make a ragged sound in your chest as your lips part for him, and your tongues slide against each other for far too short of a time before Marcus pulls back, suddenly, his eyes full of worry.
“Oh, shit,” he murmurs. “Shit, we… we shouldn’t.”
This time, you kiss him back. The neck of his soft t-shirt crumples in your fist as you pull him closer, opening your mouth to him, and his protests die at the feel of your lips on his. Instead, it seems to light a fire within him; one hand curls around the back of your neck and the other grips your hip and you gasp softly into his mouth at the feel of his hands on your body. 
Marcus breaks the kiss again, but instead of pulling back to give you more reasons why you can’t, this time he kisses a path across your cheek and down your neck. You’ve imagined the way his light beard would feel against your skin so many times over the last couple of days, but nothing compares to the reality of having him gently scrape his teeth against your neck as you arch your back to him. 
“Fuck,” Marcus whispers. “So sweet, honey.”
You whimper at the term of endearment as Marcus gently starts to shift positions, turning and guiding you down onto the couch, just as you’d imagined. 
Now that you’re horizontal, the kisses that started out tender and sweet start to grow more and more lascivious. You can feel the weight of him between your legs and his hot length pressing against you, his hips rocking slightly as he lazily explores you with his hands and his mouth. 
One hand creeps up your inner thigh and slips under your thin sleep shorts and underwear, gently grazing your folds and feeling the obscene amount of slick that’s already gathered there. 
“Shit,” Marcus hisses softly, reverently. “You’re so wet. How are you so wet?”
“You,” you answer earnestly, staring up at him with wide eyes. 
He laughs breathlessly in response, his eyes raking up and down your body, taking in your nipples peeking through the threadbare material of your tank top. His finger explores deeper, slipping inside your tight channel and immediately finding… something… that makes you gasp raggedly. 
“So responsive,” he murmurs playfully. “I’ve barely touched you.” He starts to slowly pump his finger in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit as he rubs against that little spot inside of you every time, and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and cling to him as this one little movement threatens to take you apart. 
“Honey,” he whispers disbelievingly as he feels you start to tighten around him. “Already?”
“I–” 
Whatever you had been about to say dies on your lips as you suddenly fall over the edge, shaking as the pleasure overtakes you. Marcus soothes you through it, whispering in your ear as you come down from your high.
“Wow,” you murmur. “Holy shit, that was amazing.”
Marcus pulls back and gives you a funny look. “What’s going on?” he asks, frowning slightly.
“Heh–you’re going to laugh,” you say, giving him an awkward grimace. 
He raises his eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. 
“I’ve–kind of never done this before,” you admit, pressing your lips together sheepishly. 
“Oh shit,” Marcus breathes, sitting up fully as his eyes frantically sweep over you. “Oh, honey–no. I can’t–we can’t do this.”
“Why?” you ask, wincing internally at how whiny it comes out.
“It can’t–it shouldn’t be me,” he says softly. “That’s more than I deserve to take.”
“You’re not taking anything,” you protest. “I–I want it to be you.”
Marcus shakes his head again, but you can see the cracks in his resolve, the way his eyes are searching you, devouring you with his gaze.
“I don’t want it to be some boy at a frat party back home,” you tell him. “I want you. I want it to feel good. Please?”
Marcus’s expression is inscrutable as his eyes rake over your form, disheveled and sated, underneath him. Your heart sinks when he stands up, shame sinking down into the pit of your stomach, but then he extends his hand to you, and you look up at him, questioning. 
“I’m not going to let your first time be a quick fuck on my couch,” he says quietly and resolute. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to bed.”
Wordlessly, you accept his hand and allow him to pull you to your feet. You wobble slightly, still shaky from the orgasm, and Marcus draws you into his side, steadying you. He guides you forward, keeping you close as the two of you walk to his bedroom. 
Despite the fact that you were more than ready to let this man take you right there on the couch, the change in venue has your heart hammering in your chest. Now, it feels real. It feels intentional. 
“C’mere, beautiful,” Marcus murmurs when he feels your steps falter. His hand slides up your arm and across your shoulder until it curls gently around your neck, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of your skin. He presses a couple of soft, chaste kisses across your opposite shoulder, and your lips part of their own accord. 
“I need you to tell me if you don’t want to do this,” he says softly in your ear.
“I want–”
“I know, I know,” Marcus interrupts. “I want you to tell me if that changes.”
He gently guides you onto his bed, one hand on the small of your back to keep you from going too fast. 
“I wanna know what you like,” he murmurs as he hovers over you again, his hand coming up underneath the thin material of your top. “I wanna know what you don’t like.” 
“I–I don’t really know–”
“I know,” Marcus grins wolfishly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “That’s the idea.”
He starts to push the material of your shirt up, up, up, until your nipples are pebbling in the cool air of his bedroom. He gently pulls it over your head and casts it aside, looking down at you with undisguised hunger. He trails the backs of his fingers down the side of one breast and underneath. “I get to find out what you like,” he says. He circles one areola with the tip of his finger, making you shiver. “And I get to be the first to do it.”
He gently drags the pad of his finger across the little bud of your nipple, and you gasp for him as if you’d hit a live wire. 
“I’m gonna take a guess and say you liked that,” he teases. 
“Marcus,” you whine. 
“Shh,” he whispers again, just before his mouth engulfs your nipple. Your hand darts out unconsciously, tangling in the hair on the back of Marcus’s neck as you squirm under his hot tongue. You can’t tell whether you want to pull away or push toward him, but in reality all you do is whine and take what he gives you. He switches to the other one; lathing and flicking his tongue and pressing down until you whimper.
“So… fucking… responsive,” Marcus murmurs in between kisses as he starts to mouth his way down your belly to the band of your sleep shorts. His fingers dip underneath, poised to pull them down over your hips, but he waits–eyes flicking up to yours to gauge your reaction. 
“Can I taste you?” he asks quietly.
“I-If you want,” you laugh shakily. 
“If I want?” he parrots disbelievingly. “You’re saying that like it’s not a given–like I haven’t been thinking of burying my tongue in that sweet little pussy all night. If I want,” he chuckles to himself again, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs. “I need to taste you. I need to feel you fall apart on my tongue. The first one was kind of a surprise, and all I want is to feel you shaking again.”
You’re bare before him, but you don’t have any time to be self-conscious, because Marcus is laying back down on the bed, his face inches away from your pussy. He gently guides your legs over his shoulders before lowering his mouth to you. 
You aren’t sure who groans louder at the first touch of his tongue through your folds. 
Marcus makes a pained noise in his throat before murmuring, “So sweet, honey–fuck, you’re so sweet.”
His tongue is delicate, but precise; he flicks it back and forth against your clit, then dips down to lap at your entrance until you’re trembling for him. He’s tireless and patient, cataloging every whimper and moan he pulls from you as the pleasure slowly builds inside of you. In no time at all, you’re dangling on the precipice, your hips locking into place as you start to reach the point of no return. 
“I–I–” you stammer, trying to warn him.
Marcus hums enthusiastically in agreement, concentrating his efforts on your clit until you fall apart with a gasp.
He groans again, licking you through each little aftershock of pleasure until you’re boneless. 
“You squeeze me so hard,” he croons. “Can you feel that? You’re so tight around my tongue.”
“Shit…” you murmur. You’re too fucked-out to say anything else. 
“Gonna have to open you up a bit with my fingers,” he says softly. “So I don’t hurt you.”
You look up at him with half-lidded eyes. He’s still clothed–wearing sweatpants and a shirt, while you’re completely naked, and you frown slightly at the disparity.
“Everything okay?” Marcus asks, seeing your expression. 
“Can–Can I see you? You’re so… clothed,” you say with a little pout. 
He laughs, smiling widely so that the corners of his eyes crinkle, and your heart soars. 
“Of course,” he agrees, stripping off his shirt. “Of course.”
You raise up on one elbow, gazing up at Marcus’s broad chest, the light smattering of hair, and the soft swell of his belly. You can’t help but reach up and touch him, pressing your palm to his sternum and trailing down, tracing the little path of hair until it disappears under the band of his sweatpants. Your fingers curl underneath the band, looking up at him with wide eyes. 
“These, too?” he asks with a teasing chuckle, smiling wider when you nod eagerly. 
His cock bobs free as he pushes his pants down his hips, and your eyes widen at the sight of him, thick and hard and heavy with want. Curiously, you wrap your hand around him, and you’re rewarded with a little ‘hnnngg’ of pleasure and surprise as you touch him. 
You gently trace the little ridges on his shaft, traveling up to the flushed, purple head, where the skin is even softer, and back down again.
“F-Fuck,” Marcus muttters. “Can’t do that too much, honey, or I’m gonna lose it before we even get started.”
“I like it,” you say with a little giggle. “I never realized they were so… soft.”
Marcus makes a broken, choked sound. “Jesus. You’re gonna be the death of me.” 
He falls onto one elbow, giving you a messy, passionate kiss before sucking his fingers into his mouth and gently sinking one finger into you again. His lips stay close to yours, noses almost touching, his eyes watching your face intently as he slowly opens you up. His fingers are so thick, and just like before, he seems to know exactly where to press up inside you to make the pleasure spark inside of you. He adds a second finger, and you whimper–you're already so full. 
"Little bit more," Marcus murmurs. "Doing so well for me–fuck–so tight."
He gently starts to slide a third into you, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit to offer some relief.
“Is it greedy if I say I want you to cum for me again?” he asks softly. “I want to feel it again. Can you do that for me?”
You nod dazedly–wanting to do anything, everything this man asks as long as he keeps making you feel like this. 
His fingers press up against your walls again, and you sob loudly into the room.
Marcus immediately muffles the sound with a kiss, swallowing your whimpers and cries in an attempt to keep the sound from carrying across the apartment. 
“Gotta stay quiet for me,” he whispers against your lips. 
“S-Sorry.”
“No, shh, don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “I wish you could be loud. Wish I could make you scream for me. Just–fuck, honey, you’re right there, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing me–fuck, you get so wet. Give me one more. One more, and I’ll give you my cock. That’s it, that’s–yes–” 
Marcus breaks off on a groan as you clamp down on his fingers. It’s so much, you’re so full, and you buck against his hand, your lower back rising up off of the bed as he pulls it from you. 
You slump back down, breathing heavily, as he carefully withdraws his fingers. 
“Hey,” he says quietly, trying to get your attention. “Hey, I should have asked this sooner, but–are you on birth control? Do you want me to use a condom?”
“I-I’m on the pill,” you tell him. “If you… you know, if you didn’t want to. That would be–I’d like that.”
“That’s perfect,” he whispers, giving you a tender kiss. “I’d like that, too.” He pauses, and mutters a soft curse under his breath. “I wish I had some lube,” he remarks. “Just to be sure I don’t hurt you.”
You watch as he spits on his cock and takes himself in hand. 
“This will have to do, though,” he says as he slicks it over his cock and crawls over you. “And I’ll just go slow.”
He cups the back of your neck with one hand as he lines himself up with the other. His lips are inches from yours, but he doesn’t lean down to kiss you–no, he seems to want to watch your reaction as the tip of his cock notches at your entrance. 
“Don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers again.
“You could never hurt me,” you say confidently, and you watch as his lips part in surprise. “Marcus–” you add, as you shift your hips impatiently. “–just do it.”
Your eyes widen as you feel him push into you, his girth splitting you open. It can’t be much bigger than three of his thick fingers, but still, it just feels like more. It’s longer, certainly; he keeps pushing in, and even when you’re sure he’s reached the end, there’s still more. 
“Oh wow,” you hear yourself murmuring again and again. “Oh, Marcus.” 
“I know,” he returns, kissing your cheekbone, your forehead, your nose, and then finally, your lips. “I know, honey.”
He starts to rock his hips, slowly undulating them, letting his cock drag back and forth against your walls. It feels incredible–you never imagined how fucking good this would feel–and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s because it’s him. It’s Marcus–a man you’ve admittedly only known for a few days, but you feel as though you know him already–and you trust him completely. 
“Does it hurt at all?” he rumbles softly in your ear.
“No,” you answer emphatically. “It feels–holy shit.”
Marcus laughs breathlessly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Can–can we do this again?”
He chuckles. “We’re currently doing this.”
“I already want it again.”
He starts to go a little harder, his thrusts a little deeper. His hand grips your hip for leverage, the other still cradling the back of your neck. He kisses you, a deep, messy, passionate thing, before burying his face in the crook of your neck and sucking a gentle mark into your skin.
“Feels so good,” he murmurs. “I’m not gonna last, not when you feel like this.”
“Like how?” you ask, smiling widely. 
“So fucking tight,” Marcus groans. “And wet, and hot, and–” he brings his thumb to your clit and starts to rub little circles around it. “I need you to cum again,” he says. “Fuck, you–you feel too good, honey, I’m not gonna last.”
“I—I don’t know if I can,” you murmur. 
“Please,” he says, a hint of desperation in his tone. “Please, baby, you’ve gotta do this one last thing for me. Let me feel it, let me make you feel good. Let me–let me–”
Your mouth falls open as you feel it wash over you. This is better than anything you’ve ever felt before, any relief you’ve been able to seek with your fingers–the drag of his cock along your walls only serves to prolong your pleasure, making each little aftershock feel like a new wave of pleasure. 
“Oh, fuck,” Marcus groans. “Fuck.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he shoves his hips into you one more time, emptying himself within you with a deep groan. 
The aftermath is quiet. After gently, tenderly cleaning you up with a damp cloth, Marcus collapses on the pillows and pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around you as you settle with your head resting on his shoulder.
“Was this a bad idea?” you ask quietly as you trace little shapes on his chest.
Marcus huffs a laugh. “Probably,” he answers.
“I don’t care,” you say resolutely, causing his hold on you to tighten. “...Do you regret it?” you ask, feeling unsure of yourself again.
“No,” Marcus says immediately. “No. I was drawn to you from the beginning. I’m sorry, I–I should have tried harder to prevent this, but…”
“I felt it, too,” you murmur. “Maybe we weren’t meant to prevent it.”
The two of you bask in the afterglow, reveling in the feel of your bodies pressed together. You can’t help but think of how tender, how loving he is–not just with you, but with Emma.
“Can I ask a personal question?” you ask, breaking the silence.
Marcus shrugs. “Sure.”
“This is probably weird to be thinking about right now, but… why does Emma’s mom not want you around?”
 Marcus sighs, his lips pressing into your forehead–not really a kiss, just a caress of your hairline with his mouth.
“That story doesn’t exactly paint me in the best light.”
“I want to know. I just… don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?” he asks.
“You’re… you’re such a good dad–a good man. I don’t understand how her mom wanted nothing to do with you. I just don’t get it.”
Marcus nods, pressing his lips together. “I wasn’t always a good man,” he says quietly. “I tried to do the best I could for the both of them–for Emma and her mom–but I’m afraid I fell very short, in the beginning.”
“What happened?”
“We were in college when we found out she was pregnant,” Marcus says with a sigh. “She was nineteen, I was almost twenty-one. We hadn’t been together long; maybe a couple of months. She was terrified, of course–and so was I, but never told her that. I asked her to marry me because I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“Did you love her?”
“I cared for her, very much so. And even if we weren’t quite right for each other, knowing–” Marcus swallows thickly, “–knowing our child, my child, was growing inside of her made me feel deeply connected. If you had asked me at twenty-one, I would have sworn up and down that I was in love.”
“But not now?”
Marcus huffs softly. “I know a little better, now.”
“What happened?” you ask, tracing the line of his collarbone with the tip of your finger. “What did you do?”
“Well, the first thing I did was drop out of art school,” he says with a little laugh. “Didn’t think it would pay the bills, especially not with a wife and a baby.”
“You were an artist?” you ask, surprised.
“Wanted to be,” he chuckled. “At least at that time. So instead, I applied for the FBI. Joined the Art Crimes division. And shortly after I completed training… Emma was born.” His eyes are far away, a small smile on his face as he remembers. “And she was perfect. And I remember thinking, all the struggling, all the hardship, all the times Denise and I didn’t get along… it would be worth it, in the end. No matter what happened; because I had her.”
You swallow past the lump in your throat. “What went wrong?”
“Nothing in particular, at first. We struggled to make ends meet. We were two young parents with no idea what we were doing, and even though I might have known deep down that we weren’t right for each other, I just wanted it to go right. I wanted us to be happy, but in the end we were just too different. We didn’t work–and while I might have been blind to it at the time, Denise wasn’t. When Emma was barely even two, she filed for divorce, and I–” he sighs heavily again. “I went a little off the rails.”
You tilt your head and look up at Marcus. His eyes are stormy, and you can see the remorse etched into the lines of his face. You don’t ask how, you just wait patiently for him to continue.
“I didn’t want to be divorced at twenty-three. This wasn’t–it wasn’t the life I had expected for myself, not what I would have chosen, but because I had Emma, I didn’t want anything else. I always knew I would want a family, and so what if it happened… a little out of order?”
“What did you do?” you whispered.
“I tried to convince her to change her mind. She took Emma and went to live with her parents, and I’d call them every day, asking to talk to her. I wanted to persuade her–I thought that if she could just see that we had plenty of time, we could raise Emma and be good parents and still… still have time for whatever we wanted. That we could still build lives.
“When she never returned my calls, I started stopping by,” he confesses, his voice even quieter. “They’d always tell me she was out, so I started showing up at odd hours, trying to… trying to just catch her one time–I thought if I explained that she could do whatever she wanted, as long as we could just stay together and raise Emma, she’d agree. But the more I tried to contact her, the more she pulled away, and rightly so, honestly. I was badgering her. I tried to justify it at the time, said I was doing it all for Emma, but I, uh… It took me until much later to admit I was actually doing it for me. I was so scared of being a failure, and scared to be alone.
“Anyway, the court didn’t look very kindly on what looked to everyone involved like stalking behavior, and Denise was afforded full custody.”
“M-Marcus,” you murmur, unable to help the water gathering at the corners of your eyes. 
“Broke my heart,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “And I was angry about it for a while, but when it comes down to it, I was just angry with myself. It was my actions that lost me my daughter, and… well, I’ve had twenty years to come to terms with that, now.”
“How did you finally… come to face all of that?” you ask quietly.
“Therapy,” Marcus says with a genuine laugh. “And that is another story for another time.”
“God, what else happened to you?”
“Nothing,” he chuckles, “just another relationship that I fought way too hard for.” He playfully runs his finger down the bridge of your nose before tilting your chin upward for a soft kiss. “And you,” he murmurs, “need to go back to bed.”
Your emotions still running on high alert after Marcus’s emotional confession of his past, you surge forward and throw your arms around his neck. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
“I’m okay,” he promises. “It was a long time ago.”
“You should tell Emma,” you say softly. “She never knew why her mom didn’t want you around.”
“Not really something you want to tell your daughter,” he says with a sad smile. “That you basically stalked her mom.”
“She’s grown up. She’s older than her mom was when–”
“Believe me, I know,” Marcus groans. “Don’t remind me; it makes this feel very… wrong.” He gestured between the two of you.
“Just trust me,” you murmur. “She’d want to know.” With herculean effort, you extricate yourself from his arms, grab your clothes, and redress. Feeling unsure in the way the conversation ended, you tell yourself not to turn around again when your hand lands on the doorknob.
“Honey,” Marcus calls out softly from the bed. “Good night.”
“Good night,” you whisper back, and then you’re gone.
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“Where are you two off to, today?” Marcus asks conversationally over coffee. He’s made it stronger than usual today, and it makes warmth pool deep in your stomach at the reminder of your very sleepless night last night. You’re grateful for the extra boost of caffeine as well, of course–the morning seemed to come far too early after being up half of the night. Sleep had still been hard to come by when you finally returned to the guest room, after all; the conversation about Marcus’s past was still swirling around in your head, and every time you closed your eyes, you could still feel his hands on you. 
You never knew it could feel like this, never knew how good it could be with someone who really knew what they were doing. Someone so giving, so gentle and yet so ruthless in pursuing your pleasure. Someone brimming with passion, capable of both the softest prase and the most depraved filth in the same sentence.
If you had thought your thirst would be sated after finally getting what you’d fantasized about and more, you were a fool. The flame burns hotter than ever this morning, and the sight of Marcus in a suit with not a hair out of place only makes you think about how he had looked between your legs last night–that devilish smirk as he teased about wanting to taste you.
You wonder if you’ll ever see him that way again, or if last night was a fluke. 
Had he noticed when your fingers had trembled around the coffee cup he handed you? 
He had given you a soft, tender stare when you had first entered the kitchen, but that’s the only evidence you can find so far that Marcus is even half as affected as you feel. You can still feel him this morning, a subtle ache between your legs when you sit down, and you wish you could see some outward sign on him that this actually happened.
“Not really sure,” Emma answers Marcus’s question. “Kind of ran out of stuff to see.”
“Impossible,” Marcus chuckles. “Well, you can hang out here if you want, or if you're really looking for a distraction, you can come to the office with me.”
“The fucking FBI office?” Emma asks. “Are we allowed?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t you be?” Marcus shrugs. “Plus, I might be able to set up some time for you to talk to someone in Legal,” he says to you. “Are you still interested in that?”
“Oh wow,” you breathe. “Really?”
“‘Course,” he replies. “I said I would.”
You nod, smiling up at him beatifically. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Perfect,” he grins. “Well, if you’re coming, we’re going to need to leave soon. Are you almost ready?”
“I’m ready,” Emma announces, shouldering her bag.
“Yeah, me too.”
Marcus winks at you, and you try not to let yourself react to it.
“Let’s go, then.”
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You had assumed that you’d spend most of your day at the FBI holed up in Marcus’s office, doing nothing. You had imagined that, out of necessity, you’d be barred from attending any meetings or hearing about his department’s day-to-day activities, but when you arrive, his team seems enthusiastic to have you and Emma there. Much to your surprise, they even let the two of you sit in the back of the room while Marcus conducts a briefing. 
You listen, enthralled, as he discusses a recent forgery case that the team is working on. His demeanor, as it is at home, is good-natured and easygoing. He’s easy to smile, and engaging when he talks, and as a result, he utterly commands the room. His style of quiet, unassuming authority has you subtly squirming in your chair. Even though you have no idea what’s being discussed, you can tell simply by listening to his cadence of speech that he’s incredibly knowledgeable, and fucking good at his job. It’s clear he loves the work–and when you think back to the night before and his whispered confession that he had once dreamed of being an artist, you find yourself beaming with happiness that he’s clearly found something he loves to do. 
“People change.”
You suddenly recall his words the very first night you were there–his assurance that it didn’t matter that you had no idea what you wanted to do at your age, because there’s no promise that you’ll still want the same things in ten years. After last night, you realize that he was talking about himself in that moment.
You hope he’s happy and fulfilled.
He deserves it.
You watch him wrap up the meeting–delegating work to each member of the team and asking for updates–and every so often, as his eyes sweep around the room, they always seem to land on you.
As he promised, Marcus introduces you to Kimberley Alexander, the lawyer that his department works with most of the time. You’re nervous at first–you aren’t sure what you’re going to talk about, but you end up staying in her office through lunch, spending almost an hour and a half longer than you had intended, talking about potential jobs with the FBI.
Not because you suddenly have the desire to return to Washington, DC as soon as you can, nope. It does interest you–quite a bit, actually–but you can’t pretend that you aren’t excited at the prospect of living in the same city as Marcus. Would he want to see you again? Is he really interested in you, or is it just the forced proximity–because you’re convenient and available? If you had your own life here, would he be interested in a place in it?
When you find Emma and her dad again, they’ve clearly just come back from lunch. Emma thrusts a container into your hands, which you discover, with an exaggerated moan of satisfaction, is pad Thai.
“Must have been a good talk,” Marcus remarks. 
“Yeah, you were there for two hours,” Emma adds.
“It was good,” you nod. “Talked about, y’know, internships and stuff.”
“You wanna live here?” Emma asks, looking surprised and curious.
You try to shrug noncommittally. “Sure,” you say lightly. “It’s as good a place as any, and it would be kind of fun to work for the FBI, right?”
“I’m afraid I can’t give you an unbiased answer to that,” Marcus says with a wry smile, “but I think you’d be a great fit.”
Your heart swells at his words. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” he says earnestly. “And I hate to do this, but I’ve gotta run to do a witness interview, and you guys have to stay behind this time.”
You watch as Marcus gives Emma a quick kiss on the forehead, and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the action. They’ve gotten more comfortable around each other in the time you’ve been here, but neither of them had seemed to be very comfortable with physical affection. Marcus, for his part, is always so hesitant–wanting to reach out, but seemingly afraid that he doesn’t deserve it, or worse, that it won’t be received well. You still remember the first day you saw him–when his hand twitched toward his daughter, seemingly desperate to wrap her in a hug, but he hadn’t allowed himself to do it.
What changed?
Marcus glances at you, and gives you a slightly awkward, stiff nod before leaving for his meeting.
You busy yourself with eating lunch, digging into the container they brought you.
“Tomorrow’s the last day, huh?” Emma says conversationally.
You gulp. You’ve purposefully been putting the fact that your time here has an expiration date at the back corner of your mind. Whatever you have with Marcus, it’s temporary by its very nature, and you know it.
You just don’t really want to think about it right now.
“Yup,” you agree, mouth full of noodles. 
“What do you wanna do? I’m kind of out of ideas.”
You shrug. “We could ask Marcus if there’s anything he recommends seeing that we haven’t already been to.”
“I think we should go as far out as the metro line goes,” Emma says.
“Why?”
She shrugs. “See where we end up.”
“Whatever you want,” you tell her. “Last day is up to you.”
“How’s the pad Thai?”
“Good,” you nod, mouth full. “What’d you get?”
“Calamari,” she answers. “Never had it, wanted to try it.”
“How was it?”
“Chewy.”
You laugh, taking another bite of noodles. “Think I’ll stick to my favorite.”
The two of you huddle together on the small, two-seater couch in Marcus’s office, watching YouTube videos and laughing together until he comes back near the end of the day.
Your eyes automatically brighten when you see him return, drinking in the sight of him–the crisp lines of his suit paired with the slightly unruly hair. You discovered last night how soft it is, and how much he loves it when you thread your fingers through it and tug gently. 
He meets your eyes, but quickly drops his gaze, and you try not to sink in disappointment. Did it not mean as much to him as it did to you? Or is he just better at hiding it?
“You two hungry for dinner?” he asks, putting his stuff back in his messenger back and throwing it over his shoulder.
Emma groans loudly beside you. “Gonna be honest, I’m not really feeling dinner.”
“That was a lot of pad Thai,” you agree.
“Good,” Marcus says with a smile. “Me neither. Let’s go home and have a lazy night eating popcorn on the couch.”
The moment you arrive home, though, Emma makes a beeline for the bathroom. 
“She okay?” Marcus asks you.
You grimace at the faint sounds of retching. “Doesn’t sound like it.”
When she emerges again, Marcus hands her a glass of water with a concerned expression. “Everything okay?”
“No,” she mutters pitifully.
“Was it the calamari?” you ask.
“Please don’t say that word ever again,” Emma groans, flopping down on the couch. “Fuck. Everything hurts.”
“What do you need?” Marcus asks, looking a little lost.
“Distraction,” she mumbles. “Long movie or something.”
Emma takes up the entire couch, so you and Marcus have to sit in opposite armchairs while you watch Lord of the Rings. It’s almost unbearable to you, being so close to him and yet not being able to touch, not being able to look at him for fear of giving everything away. If you two were to lock eyes, you know that you wouldn’t be able to hide your reaction to him. So much so that even Emma, who’s still alternating between running to the bathroom and collapsing on the couch, would have no choice but to notice. 
The pull to him feels overwhelming; the only thing you can think of doing is crossing the living room and sinking into his arms. It makes you feel guilty–your best friend has food poisoning, Marucs is trying to help by refilling her water and encouraging her to drink, and here you are, with nothing to do but yearn for your best friend’s dad. 
When the movie is over, it’s late; Marcus brushes Emma’s hair back from her forehead and suggests she go lie down. As she’s stumbling toward the guest room, Marcus touches you for the first time since last night–lightly wrapping his fingers around your wrist while Emma isn’t looking.
Your eyes meet, and he gives you a coal-black stare, trying to communicate without speaking. He nods subtly, and his meaning is easy to understand.
Come to me tonight.
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You come to him in the dead of night. You lie awake, listening for Emma’s breathing to even out, and then waiting another thirty minutes after that, just to be safe. 
It’s nearly midnight when you slip into Marcus’s bedroom, but he’s still awake; his lamp is on, and he’s reading a book.
Waiting for you. 
The moment the door creaks open, Marcus casts the book aside without even marking his place, and rises to his feet. He strides forward and you meet him in the middle, a clash of mouths and hands as you come together desperately. 
“Fuck,” he whispers against your lips. “All fucking day, all I could think about was this.”
“Me too,” you mumble hastily in between kisses. 
“No idea how hard it was to concentrate on giving that meeting this morning,” he confesses, “with you in the corner looking at me with those eyes of yours.” 
He grabs your top and pulls it over your head in one swift motion and ducks down to lathe his tongue against your nipple, making you arch against him. 
“Ah!–Really?” you gasp. “I didn’t–you looked so… calm the whole day. Like it didn’t affect you the same way it affects me.”
“Doesn’t affect me?” Marcus repeats incredulously. “Honey, I am out of my mind with wanting you.” He pulls back, his palms cradling your cheeks as he stares at you with a disbelieving smile. “Do you not have any idea what you do to me?” he asks softly. 
Stunned, you shake your head.
Marcus laughs breathlessly, as he reaches down to encircle your wrist with one large hand and brings your hand forward to press against the front of his pants, where you can feel him, hard and straining against the fabric. “You feel that?” he rasps. “Do you fucking feel what you do to me?”
He shoves your flimsy sleep shorts down your legs and all but tosses you onto the bed. He strips off his own shirt and follows you down. “I’ve been half-hard all day,” he confesses. “I had to fuck my own hand in the shower this morning and still,” he groans. “As soon as I picture your face as you fall apart for me, I’m done for.”
“You thought about that?” 
“All fucking day,” Marcus promises. 
“That all you thought about?” you ask, your voice turning coy as you gain more confidence.
He chuckles darkly. “Thought about a lot of things,” he murmurs.
“Such as…?”
“Just–all the ways I want to have you.” 
“Show me,” you demand.
Marcus chuckles again. “Show you what, pretty girl?”
“All the ways that you want me.”
“That would take a lot more time than we currently have,” he says wryly. 
“Then show me how you want me most,” you say. 
“Let me get you ready first,” Marcus murmurs, starting to kiss a path down your body, intent on his destination. 
“No.”
“Hmm?”
“I want it now,” you say frankly.
“Honey–” he protests softly.
“Consider the fact that I’ve done nothing but think about what happened last night and fantasize about what’s going to happen tonight foreplay,” you tell him. “I can’t–I can’t wait. I don’t want it to be slow. I need–I need—” you trail off, searching for how exactly to find the words for what it is that you need. 
Marcus nods slowly, his eyes darkening as he watches you plead for him to take you now.
“You really want me to show you?” he asks quietly.
You nod.
“Then get on your hands and knees for me, honey.”
You comply with a shiver, your heart in your throat as you turn around and put yourself on display for him.
Marcus mutters a soft curse behind you as his palm strokes up the skin on the back of your thigh and up over the swell of your cheek. 
You hear him spit in his hand, and you know he's coating himself in it behind you, easing his way in. He does it again, and this time you whimper softly as he cups you, transferring more wetness to your folds. 
"Already so wet," he teases softly. "Tell me if it's too much."
He slides forward, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, and your elbows nearly buckle at the overwhelming feel of it. 
Marcus doesn't wait for you to adjust, this time. He starts thrusting right away, his hands grasping your hips for leverage. He's pressing right on the spot that makes pleasure sing throughout your entire body. Once he's sure that his pace isn't too much for you, he starts giving it to you harder, snapping his hips into you over and over.
Last night was overwhelming in its own way, but this–this is devastating. You thought last night was the most pleasure you could ever feel, but you had no idea that this could wreck you so completely. 
You're crying out with every thrust, each punishing snap of his hips punching little pathetic noises past your lips as you take what he needs to give you. 
"Shhh," he reminds you. "Gotta stay quiet, honey."
You drop to your elbows, burying your face in the pillows to try and muffle the involuntary sounds, but you can tell it isn't enough. 
"M-Marcus," you whimper frantically. "I can't."
"Do you want to stop?" he asks (making you shake your head rapidly), "Or do you want me to help you be quiet?"
You nod frantically, although you have no idea what he means. You'd do anything to keep feeling his cock like this. 
Marcus’s hand wraps tightly around your mouth, quieting your cries and forcing you to breathe through your nose. Something about the action makes your pussy clench violently, and Marcus makes a quiet groan of pleasure above you. 
He fucks you harder and faster, one hand sliding underneath you to rub tight circles over your clit. 
"Cum for me," he rasps brokenly above you. “Fuck, please–” 
The soft plea is enough to end you. You wail into Marcus’s hand as you come undone, and he tightens his grip, muffling the sound. 
It doesn’t take long for him to follow–just a couple more minutes of brutal thrusts that have you whimpering into his hand, oversensitive from your orgasm. The minute he stills, his cock slips from you as he immediately collapses on the bed and pulls you into his arms. You’re both still breathing heavily, but he smooths the hair back from your forehead as he looks you over.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “That was a lot, I’m sorry.”
“‘Re you kidding?” you slur. “That was… amazing.”
Marcus laughs and pulls you close again. “I’m glad,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his words. 
“Can I stay here for a little longer?” you ask. “Just a little.”
Marcus pulls back again and looks down at you with an amused smile. “It’s cute that you think I’m done with you, honey.”
Your eyes widen. “You’re not?”
“Mm-mm. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the way you look when you come undone,” he murmurs, tracing the tip of his index finger down the side of your cheek. “You didn’t think I’d be satisfied with just once tonight, did you?”
You giggle. “I guess not.”
He fixes you with a fiery look. “Do you trust me?” he asks quietly. 
“...Yeah?”
He raises one eyebrow. 
“Yes,” you answer, with more conviction this time. “Yes, I trust you.”
Marcus kisses you tenderly before sitting back on his heels beside you. His fingertips trail down your chest, over the peaks of your nipples, and down your stomach, as though he can’t get enough of the feel of your skin. One hand travels further down, stroking the soft patch of hair on your pubic bone before he slips one finger gently inside you. 
You cringe slightly at the wet squelch of your combined release, but Marcus shushes you gently. “Love how wet you get,” he teases affectionately. “And I like knowing I’m there inside of you.”
You clench involuntarily at his words, your lips parting as you exhale shakily. 
He chuckles. “You like that? You like knowing that I get off on the idea of you carrying a little piece of me with you?” he asks, as he starts to slowly fuck you with one finger.
“What if I told you that I was thinking about it during that meeting this morning?” he continues. “I kept wondering if there was still a little in there from last night, leaking into your underwear as I talked.”
“Shit,” you mumble. “Marcus.”
“Wanna fill you up again tonight,” he remarks casually. “So it’s still there when you’re walking around tomorrow.” He groans softly. “Fuck–Can I–Can I give you my number? I–I want you to text me. Tell me you can still feel me.”
“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Yes.”
“Good.” He adds a second finger and presses the heel of his hand against your clit, working you up to another orgasm exactly how he now knows gets you off quickly. When you start to clench around him, though, he doesn’t stop. He starts to rub quickly back and forth on that little spot inside of you until something else starts to build. 
“M-Marcus,” you murmur. “W-Wait, I–something is–”
“Shhh.” He keeps going, rubbing harder and faster until he suddenly rips his fingers from you as you gush around them, soaking his hand and the bed.
“Oh! Shit,” you cry out, panicking. “What the f–”
“Fuck, yes,” Marcus groans, the sound coming deep from within his chest. “Oh, fuck, do that again.”
When he notices your expression of utter shock, though, he pauses, a slow smile of understanding spreading across his face. 
“Honey,” he says soothingly. “Was that the first time?”
You stare up at him, mouth hanging open. “I… I kind of always thought that was a myth,” you admit, ducking your head in embarrassment. 
“Oh, baby,” he breathes softly. “No, it’s definitely not.”
He lays down beside you again, gently tucking a wisp of stray hair behind one ear. “That was so good,” he praises softly. “So good to me.”
You smile shakily, but something is starting to nag at you.
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asks, noticing your hesitant expression. 
“I just… feel really inexperienced,” you admit quietly. “You know all this stuff, and I–it must be tedious, having someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, or–”
“No,” Marcus interrupts, his voice full of sincerity. “It’s not tedious at all. On the contrary,” he says with a little laugh, “the fact that I get to show you… that I’m the only one who can get you to do something you didn’t even know you could do–Well, shit,” he says with a crooked grin. He reaches down and palms his cock, which is hard and weeping again. “Look at what it does to me, huh?”
“Does that mean you’ll fuck me again?” you ask eagerly.
Marcus chuckles at your enthusiasm. “I did say I was going to fill you up one more time, didn’t I?”
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When you wake up (in your bed, next to Emma, after sneaking back into your own room after Marcus was finally finished with you in the wee hours of the morning), your travel companion is decidedly not ready to go. 
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a train,” she grumbles. “And my stomach is still in fucking knots.”
“We can just stay around the house,” you offer.
“I don’t want you to lay around being bored just because of me,” she protests, flopping down on the couch with a groan.
“Not feeling any better?” Marcus asks, coming into the living room. 
“No,” Emma pouts. “I’m gonna stay here and rest.”
“What are you going to do?” he asks, looking over at you.
You shrug. “I don’t really know. Stay here too, probably.”
“How about this,” Marcus says carefully. “I’m supposed to be going to the National Gallery of Art today to give a little talk about forgery detection. If you wanted to come, we could… walk around the museum a bit, afterward?”
You try to keep your face neutral at the prospect of spending a day with Marcus. Alone. 
“Sure,” you say, hoping it sounds nonchalant. “Could be fun.” 
“Great,” he says lightly. “It’s a d–it’s a plan.”
It’s a date.
You’re giddy as you wave goodbye to Emma–who’s watching daytime TV and holding a bottle of Gatorade–and follow Marcus out of the door. 
As soon as the door shuts, he rounds on you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you soundly. “So glad you said yes,” he says breathlessly. 
“Why wouldn’t I say yes to that?” you tease. “Spending the day with you.”
“I don’t know,” Marcus murmurs playfully, capturing your lips again. “Good question.”
“Is this a date?” you ask coyly.
He pauses, lips parting in surprise. “Do you want it to be?”
Taking a big leap of faith, you nod. 
Marcus’s expression softens, and he threads your fingers together. “Then it’s a date.”
After his talk–which you listen to with eager eyes and rapt attention–the two of you stroll slowly through the galleries, talking. Marcus occasionally stops, taking in the artwork, and tells you little tidbits of information about each piece. He seems to be using the quiet setting as an excuse to keep you as close as possible; his arm wraps around your waist as he leans down and talks quietly in your ear, making goosebumps rise on the back of your neck whenever he speaks. He seems to know the effect on you–you had no idea art could be described so sensually. 
You lose the afternoon to each other; having lunch in a small cafe and then walking down the National Mall, hand in hand.
You pick up a sandwich for Emma, just in case she’s feeling better, on your way home. As you get closer and closer, every step starts to feel heavier and heavier. You never want this to end. 
Just before you arrive at his building, Marcus stops and spins you around, cupping your cheek and pulling you to him for a soft kiss. 
“Today was–” he starts, but breaks off, shaking his head. 
“Yeah,” you agree.
“Listen, I don’t–I don’t know what your plans are after you leave tomorrow, but–”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
You’re both dancing around something big–both of you afraid to say what you really mean, and you know it, but you can’t bring yourself to take the leap. 
You had been hoping that Marcus would.
“It was nice,” you say lamely. 
“It was,” he agrees softly. 
Emma is looking a little less green when you arrive back home, and accepts the sandwich eagerly. 
“Sorry about today,” she says, her mouth full. “I don’t know what the hell that was.”
“It was the cal–”
“Don’t fucking say it.”
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At first, when you hear Emma start to fall asleep beside you, you're paralyzed. You want to go to Marcus. This is your last night; if you want to say goodbye, you need to go to him this one last time.
You just don't know if you can face goodbye.
You don't know if you can face him. 
You aren't under any reservations about what this is. Marcus is a man, and you're nothing special. You're also nearly half his age. You gave him 'fuck me' eyes for three days, and he when he gave in to the temptation, you came willingly. But this was never meant to be a long-term arrangement. 
It was never meant to be in the first place.
You just wish your first time hadn't been with the total package. Marcus is sweet, kind, attentive, and can apparently make you cum like it was a competitive sport. How are you supposed to go back home, back to being around boys your age, and expect them to measure up?
You debate staying in bed. It would be the easiest thing to do. You could begin tonight: stuffing your feelings down and burying them deep, never letting them see the light of day again. You were on spring break, and this was a fun romp. A fling. You could leave it there and never give Marcus the goodbye he probably deserves. 
On the other hand… 
What's the harm in delaying for one more night?
You slip into his room for the third time in three days, and carefully close the door behind you. Marcus is shirtless in bed, and he beckons you over with a crooked, affectionate smile. 
"Fancy seeing you here, beautiful," he says, drawing the covers back with a playful raise of his eyebrow. 
Despite your heavy mood, you can't help but grin back and enthusiastically hop into bed beside him. 
He takes advantage immediately, grabbing you and turning you, and pulling you back against his chest with a playful growl. You're caged tightly in his arms, and there's nowhere you'd rather be.  
"This is nice," you hum contentedly. 
"Oh yeah? This all you want? Just a little cuddle?" Marcus teases, nipping gently at your shoulder. 
"What if it was?" You wiggle your hips playfully against his hardening cock.
"If that was all you wanted? Then I'd think really hard about dead puppies and my childhood neighbor Mrs. Fitzwilliam in order to calm myself down a little," he answers. 
"Mrs. Fitzwilliam?" you laugh. "Why?"
"When I was a little boy, I was convinced she was a witch. I couldn't so much as talk to her for years."
"Stop it, no you did not."
"I wouldn't joke about that," he laughs. "I was really scared of her!"
"Do me a favor and don't think about her," you tease. "I like how it feels against me."
"Would feel better somewhere else," Marcus says darkly. 
"Have somewhere in mind, do you?"
"I've had it on my mind all day," he says softly. 
"Show me," you murmur. "Show me what's been on your mind all day."
"Wanna know what I was picturing while I was giving that little forgery talk?" Marcus asks.
"Obviously."
"Then sit up, pretty girl."
He loosens his hold on you and you sit up, unable to keep the grin off your face. He sits up too, gently taking hold of the hem of your shirt and drawing it up over your head. He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your shorts. 
"Help me out with these," he commands quietly. 
You shimmy them down your hips and kick them off, still kneeling before him, now completely bare. Marcus sits back on the headboard and pats his thigh suggestively, giving you a wicked smile. 
"C'mere."
You giggle and bite your lip nervously as you crawl forward and straddle him.
"Wanna see you just like this," he murmurs. 
"I–I've never–"
"I know," he interrupts with a wry smile. "I've got you. Just wanna see you like this," he confesses, palming your jaw and rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone.
Your eyes start to flutter shut as you feel the tip of him breach you as you sink slowly down. 
"Eyes on me, honey." 
With a shaky breath, you open them again, holding Marcus's intense gaze as you impale yourself on his cock. Your lips part, eyebrows pinching together at the stretch of him–you don't think you'll ever get used to the feeling of being broken open for the first time. 
"That's it," he whispers. "Just like that." 
You slowly rock your hips, rising up and sinking back down again. You feel so full like this; your lips part and a breathy gasp escapes you as you feel the drag of Marcus’s cock inside of you. 
This is the first time you've chased your own pleasure with him like this; Marcus's eyes rake over your form greedily and as you ride him, you start to feel overly conscious of his scrutiny.
"Do I look okay?" you ask shyly.
Marcus makes a disbelieving noise and surges up, his hands starting to guide the movement of your hips as he kisses you messing, trailing from your mouth to your neck as he flexes up into you.
"Are you kidding?" he asks softly. "You're ethereal. A fucking goddess in my bed. And if you're thinking about that, I'm not fucking you right."
"That's a lie," you say with a lazy smile. "You're very thorough."
"Oh yeah? You like how I fuck you?"
"Mmmhmm," you hum. "Liked what you were doing last night."
Marcus chuckles deep in his throat. "Is that so? Cum for me like this, honey, and I'll put you on your knees again."
When his thumb presses into your clit, rubbing in small circles, it doesn't take you long to start to feel the pleasure growing in your core. You start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, no longer caring if your body is jiggling too much or that your face might look silly contorted with pleasure; all you can think about is chasing that feeling that’s building inside of you. Marcus helps you along, thrusting up into you, and you swear he must get deep enough to feel the very end of you. 
He whispers little praises and encouragements in your ear in that deep, raspy way his voice gets when he’s drunk on pleasure. You can recognize all his little foibles, now–the way he wiggles his wrist back and forth when something’s on his mind, the way he talks with his hands when he’s passionate about a subject, and the way he sounds when he comes undone.
You’re going to carry all of those things with you, now–the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way he raises one eyebrow when he’s being playful, and the way he sometimes mouths along to the words of his favorite old movies.
Is it possible to miss someone so completely after just one week?
You’re so deep in your emotions when you cum, you barely even realize that you’re about to until you’re clenching hard around him, grinding down on his cock as he works you through it, guiding your hips with his fingers pressing hard into your skin.
You’re still in a daze as Marcus flips you over, depositing you on your back and then turning you over onto your stomach on the bed. Rather than pull you up to your knees like the night before, he straddles you like this and sinks back into you, draping himself over your back as he starts to really fuck you.
Oh. This might be your favorite position yet–it’s the same angle as it was last night with the added bonus of getting to feel the weight of this man pressing down on you. His chest is against your back, his ragged breaths in your ear. His elbows cage your face and he entangles your fingers together over your head. It’s a sensory overload in nearly every way, and you’re drowning in the feel of him.
It’s so good that you feel your core start to tighten again.
“So soon?” Marcus teases breathlessly in your ear. “Fuck, I can feel you shaking. How are you so fucking perfect, hmm? You always feel like you were made to take me.”
His words inexplicably cause a lump to build in your throat. Made to take him, but this couldn’t, by definition, last. The statement only makes you wish that your compatibility didn’t have to be so fucking temporary. 
You’re teetering on a precipice–on the verge of both an orgasm and inexplicable tears. When Marcus gently brushes the shell of your ear with his lips and murmurs one last, soft sentence, you finally succumb to both.
“You can let go, honey. I’ve got you.”
You convulse with a wet sob, pleasure and sorrow overtaking you simultaneously. Blessedly, with your face buried in the pillow, Marcus doesn’t notice yet; he starts fucking into you with abandon until he lets go with a deep groan in your ear. 
When he finally stills, and he starts peppering kisses across your shoulder blade, you can feel him stiffen when he realizes that, mortifyingly, there are tears on your cheeks.
“Shit,” Marcus breathes. He carefully slips out of you and turns you over underneath him, quickly brushing the tears at the corners of your eyes. He kisses them away, whispering softly to you.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks frantically. “Honey, look at me.”
“No!” you exclaim emphatically. “No, I–I don’t know why I’m doing this.”
“Talk to me,” he demands softly.
“I don’t–I don’t want to go home,” you whisper. “I don’t want this to end.”
“Oh, honey,” Marcus whispers. “Really?”
“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sure this is exactly what you’re looking for–for some girl to get attached to you after one whole week of knowing you…”
Marcus smiles and brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. “Attached to me?”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” you say. “You’re just really nice, and you’re gorgeous, and you’ve been so good to me–”
“Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Please don’t cry.”
"Sorry," you say again.
"Hey," he says softly, still stroking your cheek. "You know something? You're wrong. You're not 'some girl.' You're sweet, and funny, and cute, and maybe having this girl right here be attached to me after one whole week of knowing me is exactly what I'm looking for."
"What are you suggesting?" you ask bluntly. 
“All I’m suggesting is that we stay in touch,” Marcus answers. “No pressure, no expectations. We talk, and we get to know each other better, and when you graduate, Miss Pre-Law,” he teases, lightly touching the tip of your nose, “if you still feel the same way, come back to me. Go to Law School at Georgetown. Get an internship at the FBI. And whatever it is that you do, I know of a place you can stay.”
"You'd really want that?" you ask, a slow smile starting to spread across your face.
"I'd be a fool not to grab onto this with both hands," he murmurs, stroking his hand down your side. "A damn fool."
"What about Emma?"
Marcus pauses, biting his lip. "She's a grown woman," he says carefully, "and I haven't had much of a place in her life growing up. I would hope that… once we see where this goes–if it goes anywhere–she'd understand."
You nod slowly. "Okay."
"I've rushed into things in the past," he says softly. "More than once. But I'm not in any rush right now. I want to take my time, get to know you, and if you're still looking at me the way you're looking at me right now in a year, I'll consider myself a lucky man."
Your smile is brilliant. "I'd like that."
"I'd like that, too. And that means tomorrow isn't goodbye, anymore." 
"No?"
"Nope," Marcus says with a grin. "Just 'see you later.'"
"Can I still get a goodbye kiss?" you ask.
He shakes his head playfully, but his lips descend to meet yours anyway. 
"Not a goodbye kiss," he teased.
"A 'see you later' kiss," you correct. 
"A 'you are so goddamn beautiful that I can't help to kiss you' kiss."
"You're making this too complicated."
"An 'I'll call it whatever I damn well please' kiss."
"An 'everything's gonna be alright' kiss?" you ask hopefully. 
Marcus smiles and kisses you long and deep. "Especially that."
– – – – – 
One year later…
“May I present: the graduating class of 2024.”
Along with Emma and the rest of the seniors in the auditorium, you throw your mortar-board hat into the air, shrieking happily as someone else’s crashes down on your head, instead. 
“Fucking finally!” Emma shouts beside you, and you grin widely. 
The last year has been a whirlwind for the both of you, and you know it. 
After reconnecting with her dad, Emma made an effort not to lose touch again. Eventually, he had opened up about his past and the circumstances surrounding his divorce, and at her urging, even began the process of making peace with her mom. They even had Christmas together, for the first time since Emma was two. 
And how do you know all this?
Well, Marcus hadn’t lost touch with you, either. 
True to his word, you both took your time and got to know each other from a distance. Talking to him was still as easy as breathing, and you’d spend entire nights at the beginning staying up far too late and talking well into the wee hours of the morning. 
It wasn’t hard to see that the something that was between you was still there and not going away any time soon. And the only thing you’ve found so far that rivals the strength of your friendship is the passion that you continue to have for each other in the bedroom.
Marcus would make trips when he could–some visits ostensibly to see Emma and other, more secret trysts where his only aim was to see you. (And see you he did; on most occasions, he’d barely let you out of his hotel room.)
Your beginning may have been a meteoric collision–two people forced into proximity that had no choice but to fall into each other–but the growth of your resulting love was slow and careful.
Eventually, you’d need to tell Emma, but it didn’t feel like the time was quite right, yet. Of course, when she visits you at Georgetown next year and you give her not your own address, but her father’s, the two of you will have to come clean. 
Right now, though, as you and Emma weave through the crowds of people looking for Marcus, you’re content to keep things the way they are. Everything is slowly falling into place, and that piece of the puzzle will fit into the rest when it’s ready.
“There she is!”
Emma beams as she hears Marcus call out, waving his hand frantically to catch your attention among the sea of people. 
She lets herself be crushed into a hug, her father grinning proudly and murmuring something unintelligible into her ear. After a few minutes, he releases her and turns to you.
“Congratulations,” he says–perfunctorily, but warmly. 
“Thank you.”
After a couple of beats, Emma rolls her eyes.
“Would you just kiss her already? Honestly, it’s more weird that you’re not.”
Two sets of eyes swivel to her in alarm.
“You… you knew?” you exclaim.
Emma gives you a disbelieving look. “Okay, the fact that you two both think you were being subtle means you might actually be meant for each other. Wow.”
“How?” you choke out.
“Are you serious? You two had bizarre energy when you met, and ever since, I see you smiling at your phone all the time,” Emma says to you. “And after that week, whenever he’s come to visit, you both act weird around each other.”
“Oh,” you say dumbly.
“Plus, you had a hickey on your neck one morning,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Real subtle.”
Oops. You shoot Marcus a look, and notice that he’s as red as a tomato. 
“Em,” he starts, looking pained.
“It’s fine,” she interrupts. “Look, it’s not like we had the closest of relationships when I was a kid. I'm getting to know you as an adult, and it just feels different than it would be if you had raised me. I’m not going to say it doesn’t make me feel fucking weird, and I don’t ever wanna know details about your sex life and I am not calling you ‘mom,’ but I guess I’ll just say… I get it. You two are oddly similar, and I wouldn’t want to stand in between you and happiness. Because I… you know. I love you.”
“Emma,” Marcus says, his smile turning watery for a moment. 
“Don’t… make a big deal out of it,” she grumbles.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughs, and gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead. “I love you too, Emmie.”
He pulls back and looks at you, his eyes sparkling, and you feel your insides start to heat up just from his gaze alone.
Those words are still new, between you–the first time was whispered softly in his ear in the darkness after spending all night wrapped around each other just a couple of months ago. Marcus whispered them back immediately after; he was achingly patient and careful to take his time with you, even though you’d felt that emotion emanating from each of you for months prior.
It was just–you didn’t want to rush things. Love was new to you. Everything was. And if Marcus was going to be your first experience with all of it, you had a feeling that you were going to want to savor it.
You know he feels the same.
Stepping forward, Marcus gently tips your chin up to meet him in a gentle kiss. The shape of his lips are so familiar now, you could probably draw them in your sleep. You know the way they move against yours. You know how it feels when he smiles against your mouth–which he does often, and right now.
“Congratulations,” he murmurs again. This time, the word is dark and full of underlying emotion–love, affection, friendship, pride–and you grin back as you kiss him once more.
“What now?” you ask with a little laugh.
“I have a few ideas,” he husks in your ear, inaudible to anyone else, before pulling back. “But right now?” he shrugs. “Anything you want. Everything.”
“What if I said that all I wanted was you?”
Marcus’s eyes soften. “Well, honey,” he says gently, “you’re in luck, because that’s the one thing I can give you.”
The end.
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boydepartment · 7 months
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I'm sorry, I'm late- Hwang Hyunjin (oneshot version)
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Description: Y/n is a student teacher in a small town in France. Hwang Hyunjin is an idol who decided to run away after trouble started to arise again. He finds himself in the class where she helps, quickly they peaked each other’s interests. Both of them ran from something and it landed them in this small town in the middle of practically nowhere. One thing they both know is that the past always catches up and it is only a matter of time, so they better make the most of it.
Warnings: cursing, maybe a touch of dark subjects. There is French in this story, I am currently studying the language and I am not an expert. If you happen to speak the language and notice a mistake, please tell me! I am happy to learn and correct myself!      
a/n- this is a really old story i wrote a few months ago, and i still think about it, so i decided to compile all the chapters into one whole story. i always reread this story too IDK i cleaned it up a little too
wc- 25k ? MASTERLIST
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Chapter 1: His eyes
You sat up slowly, feeling the sun through your thin curtains. Your body felt refreshed, oddly enough. Looking over at the clock on your wall you hopped up.
You were late to class! You ran to the wardrobe to get a quick outfit. Throwing on some old clothes the ever so kind old lady, Gram, across the street gave you when you first moved here as a housewarming present. She also made you her special pasta, the thought made your mouth water, but you didn’t have time to relish that thought. You rushed to your bathroom washing up to look presentable enough to be running around a classroom helping the teacher. You grabbed your flats which were by the door and threw your book bag over your shoulder. Feet out you started running down the worn old street.
                “Morning Y/n!” One of your neighbors yelled from across the way. You mustered a morning as you kept running. You could not be late! That would look unprofessional! You started to see the town in the distance and took a second to breathe. What time was it now? You dug through your bag and found the watch you bought from the general store. 7:45am.
Alright! Finally slipping your flats on you took note to remind yourself to take a bath when you got home, especially since you ran barefoot all that way. You started to run again down the hill not noticing the person at the bottom. You ran straight into him, your bag swinging around you.
                “DÉSOLÉ! JE SUIS EN RETARD! (Sorry, I am late)” You yelled and kept running. Normally you learned not to apologize much here, but you really rammed into him.
However, it was worth it! You got to the small classroom in the tiny-tiny school in time.
                “Bonjour, Y/n. (good morning, Y/n)” Your higher up greeted you. You greeted him back with a nod and sat down in your desk which was sat by his. You were learning how to teach art here. Since the teacher was getting old and Mr. W noticed that you weren’t one of the young people to just leave the small French town after his semester class, he decided to take you under his wing. He would tell you how to thoroughly teach an art class, as well as help you with your French. For the most part a lot of people in town would cut you some slack, they pretty much picked up that you were young and at least trying to speak to them as much as you possibly could.
The classroom started to fill with young adults, it was the usual class, until someone who wasn’t ordinary showed up. It was the guy you rammed into at the end of the hill. The more you looked at him the more he stood out to you. His hair was chopped horribly, and his clothes had what you assumed to be the logos removed. You have read an abundance of true crime books in your youth so to say this man didn’t raise all the red flags would be a lie. He didn’t look like he would harm anyone though, that is what truly through you off about him. He looked like a scared ally dog.
Eventually you got tasked to clean up the brushes from last class, you quickly got up and went to the broken-down sink at the back of the room. You let them soak and you listened to the head teacher guide the class through the lesson. Soon that will be you leading the class, you couldn’t wait. Mr. W really knew how to captivate the learning starving artists, soon everyone was working as the record player near his desk started to play famous classical pieces. Your eyes drifted to the young man in the corner, once again catching your interests. You watched as he deliberately and carefully let the small delicate brush hit the thick paper. The sun hit him beautifully and you started to notice little details about him. Then he made eye contact with you, and you quickly went back to soaking and cleaning the brushes, you even went as far as cleaning various old materials used earlier on in the week.
As much as you tried to get your mind off him, you couldn’t. Huffing you grabbed a stool and sat next to him. He looked at you with a terrified look, he looked as if you caught him sneaking a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner.
                “You’re new here, I ran into you…” You mumbled and kept looking at him, he looked down quickly at his work.
                “I- yeah. It’s okay…” The young man went back to his painting.
                “Do you speak French?” You watched his line work again; his eyes watched the brush intently.
                “Very little, I have visited Paris many times, but I don’t stay long.”
You let out a small huff of a laugh, “Paris is quite far from here.” This caught his attention and he looked at you.
                “Good.” He said softly then turned back. You two have been talking in a soft tone due to people around you trying to focus.
You decided to keep talking, “did you just move here? I haven’t seen you around.”
                “Yes, a couple weeks ago. I was at the Inn until I moved into the neighborhood above the hill.” He dipped his brush in the paint again and kept the steady hold.
                “You live in the same neighborhood as me.” You said, “you’re also mainly a landscape artist.”
The man looked stunned, and he dropped the brush, “how can you tell?”
                “The way your lines are deliberate, you’re calculating in your head instead of feeling out the page and medium emotionally.” You said and made eye contact with him; he was a total mystery to you. After living in this town a couple of years, you learned about almost everyone. The town only sometimes got any new visitors until this guy just showed up.
                “You can pick up on that?” The man spoke softly, he seemed to walk on eggshells around you. Did you hurt his feelings? There was nothing wrong with deliberate and calculated lines.
                “Yes, mainly because I wish I could do that in my art.”
He picked up the brush again and dabbed it on the paper, “what mediums and styles do you work in?”
                “Portrait and abstract. For portrait I work in charcoal and watercolor, for abstract I work in all different types of stuff I can get my hands on.” You spoke softly. When a ghost of a smile graced his features, you almost felt your heart stop and you didn’t know why.
                “I hate working in charcoal and abstract.” His eyes followed his brush strokes again.
                “Which house do you live in?” You asked him.
He smiled again, “you ask a lot of questions.”
                “We haven’t had someone new actually move in since I moved in.” You quickly answered back.
The man acknowledged your statement, “the one with the dead rosebush in the front.”
                “It’s not dead forever!” You said rather defensively, mainly because you live right next to this house which you thought was vacant still, “it just needs some help.”
                “Ah so you know the house I live in?” He picked up a thicker brush.
                “Yes, you’re my neighbor. It is a small neighborhood in a small town. Also why is-“ you were going to ask him about his hair when Mr. W called you by his desk. You excused yourself and walked over. He ended up tasking you to clean up the chalkboard, something about his arm hurting him. If you translated that correctly.
As you cleaned up the old-fashioned school board you felt eyes on you, you knew they were the mysterious stranger’s.
Well, your mysterious neighbor.
After the class was dismissed, you helped clean up for the day and Mr. W excused you. When you grabbed your bag and walked out of the classroom you saw the mysterious stranger again. He saw you and you noticed he got nervous again.
                This guy was very odd.
You approached him, “you can go home now.”
                “You wanted to ask me something though.” He said and you two walked out of the school building. You looked up at him trying to remember what on Earth you were going to ask him earlier. You pouted a bit trying to remember.
                “If you don’t remember then I live next door.” The man said, he went to turn to the direction of the neighborhood, and you stopped him again.
                “Wait, what’s your name?” You had grabbed onto his sleeve. His lean figure whipped around.
                “Hwang Hyunjin.” Part of his expression told you he was nervous to say this, but still answered you.
                “Can I give you a nickname to help me remember?” There was no way you wanted to forget his name let alone accidentally pronounce it wrong. Between speaking English and now heavily studying French, sometimes your pronunciations could get a little wonky.
You saw him smile warmly at you, “Sometimes people would call me Jinnie.”
                Jinnie… How cute.
You nodded and repeated it then introduced yourself, “I am Y/n. Y/n L/n.” You put your paint-stained hand out for him to shake. He gladly took your hand and shook it. His hand was quite larger than yours and the next thing you knew he turned away and waved. You stood there dumbfounded, this man, Jinnie, was odd. But he was interesting and young like you. Part of you felt like you had to help him, no one really helped you when you moved to town. You didn’t want this man to go through that too. You made up your mind, you would show up at his door tomorrow and walk to school with him.
Your feet made their way to the heart of the small town, you greeted the locals, they were now kind to you and warm. You belonged here now to them. It was a foreign feeling, being a part of a community that was kind to you. Walking into the bookstore where you help part time you were greeted by your coworker.
                “Ah… Vous n'avez qu'à balayer le plancher. (I need you to sweep the floor)” She didn’t always give you tasks like this, most of the time it was restocking shelves or working the counter. However, you didn’t mind sweeping the floor. You nodded and went to the back room to retrieve the broom and dustpan. Everything was older and you thrived in this environment. You could be doing nothing at all, or cleaning, and you are happy. You loved it here. Maybe you romanticized a little too much though. The thought made you smile to yourself. After your sweeping your boss had you tidy up some shelves.
                “Um, Y/n!” She peeked her head in from one of the shelves, “A demain(see you tomorrow)??”
                “Oui. (yes)” You said simply, you planned on popping in tomorrow after school anyways, if she wanted you to help out too, you would gladly do so. You saw her smile at you then nod, walking off to other tasks. Once you were done you said your goodbyes and started to walk back home. Your little neighborhood wasn’t far from the town. Part of you felt excitement bubble up in you, remembering your new neighbor.
When you walked up the hill it was already nighttime, you honestly think you should start carrying a walking stick especially because it was a pretty empty field surrounding the small jumble of brick homes. The trees didn’t start until the back of the neighborhood. You never went that way though. Whenever you walked into the beaten path you found yourself once again becoming happy, seeing someone new here really greatened your appreciation for this town. You wondered if Jinnie had the same appreciation as you.
You unlocked your small house which you would be lying if you said it wasn’t some little cottage. You decorated it the past two years like that on purpose. Kicking off your flats you remembered how dirty your feet were. Letting out a small laugh, you walked towards the bathroom and drew yourself a bath. As you waited for the water to fill, you made yourself some tea. It was dark out now and you felt it would be a great way to end your night. As you washed your hands in the sink, you had a perfect view of your neighbor’s living room. You didn’t want to be creepy, so you closed the curtains, but not before taking note of how peaceful he looked reading a book that clearly enthralled him. Your heart pounded and next thing you heard was the kettle whistling. Quickly shaken out of your thoughts you waited to pour yourself a cup and head back to the bathroom.
Slipping into your nightgown which was yet another gift from your birthday last year from the kind lady across the way. She wanted to always repay you for bringing her your homemade pumpkin bread once every other week. She was your first friend here. You went under your covers and made sure your alarm clock was on this time. You had to get up a little early anyways, you wanted to walk with Jinnie to school.
                                                          ~+~
Shockingly, your alarm did wake you up. Excitedly you hurried to get ready, your feet pitter pattered to the wardrobe. You grabbed a dress and another sweater; you were always one for layering even if summer was quickly coming. That means you would have another year of student-teaching experience under your belt. It also meant you would spend more time at the bookstore soon, which made excitement bubble in your stomach. You walked to the bathroom and once again got washed up for the day. Teeth, hair, the homemade lip balm you made yourself, all done!
You slipped your socks and boots on, today felt like a boots day. The breakfast menu was some fruit and toast, you really had to pick up more food soon at the market. Maybe you would go in a couple days on Sunday, the town always had merchants come in and it was outdoor. You nodded to yourself and finished eating. Grabbing your bag you headed to the neighbor’s home, the one with the sad rosebush.
To say you were a little nervous would be a lie, you weren’t used to being the one to almost chase after someone, but Jinnie intrigued you. You knocked a couple times and he answered, seemingly already dressed.
                “Good morning, Y/n.” His voice was soft. Jinnie’s eyes looked tired.
                “Good morning Jinnie, do you want to walk with me to the school?” You really hoped he would say yes, he could be the only friend you have that was actually your age. Jinnie smiled down at you.
                “I would love to actually, let me grab my things.” He went to shut the door but then opened it, “you can come in.”
You took up his offer and decided to look around the house, it had been vacant since you had moved in. But it surely didn’t look like it got worn over time. You saw how he had already had stuff hung up, his art which looked recent, there was no sign of dust stains.
                “I have been painting a lot since I moved here.” He said now next to you, you nodded slowly.
                “I see most of them are of the town.” You noted, you recognized the general store and the fountain in the middle of town.
Jinnie hummed, “I used to paint flowers a lot, sometimes people or still lifes. But after moving here I have been inspired by the architecture.”
You finally got a look at his clothes, “you are wearing normal clothes today. No torn off logos.”
His brows furrowed, “you take note of everything don’t you? Our neighbor across the street gave me these. Said I was her old husband’s size.”
                “She did the same for me too.” You smiled at the memory, “if you want to thank her, I bake her bread once every other week. You can join me.”
His eyes, which were once tired, lit up, “I love bread.”
                “We will have to make extra then.”
After you talked about the pumpkin bread recipe you two started your walk to the school, the sun now just rising over the town.
                “It is hard to not romanticize this town.” He suddenly spoke, “although the people here sometimes act like they hate me.”
You let out a small huff of a laugh, “they do that to newcomers, if you want, I can help teach you some basic phrases. It will help them warm up to you more.”
                “You would do that?” Jinnie asked you, the cool spring breeze brushing through his hair.
                “Yes, in exchange that you help me with landscape art.” You said and put your hand out again, to shake on it.
                “Deal.” This time he actually grinned and shook your hand. You saw his toothy grin for the first time that morning. This man was dangerously charming.
You really couldn’t help the small glances you two would exchange during class, the small smiles, everything. He was an instant click for you. However, you didn’t let him distract you from your work, Mr. W would kill you if he found out you were getting distracted by some random boy. You started to study the art history books Mr. W assigned for you to take notes on, he always said if you wanted to teach a subject you had to know the history behind it. Your favorite artists were all landscape-based artists, mainly because you couldn’t do it. Your art was either the small details of people’s faces, or complete disordered abstract. Your mind once again wandered to Jinnie who was now cleaning his brushes, his art study on the town that was hung up by the door of his home was almost perfect in a way. You wondered how Jinnie himself just did that.
After the class, you picked up your history books and thanked Mr. W. Since it was Friday you wouldn’t see him until Monday, unless he called your landline asking you to come in. When you walked out you saw Jinnie waiting there for you once more.
                “Mr. W really knows how to capture the attention of students.” Jinnie spoke and held the door open for you. You walked out and waited for him this time.
                “I am very thankful to be able to learn from him, he wants me to take his teaching position when he is ready to retire.” Your bag swung a bit when you flipped around to face him.
                “You are very welcoming; I am sure you will be a good teacher.” Jinnie said, you two walked down the dirt path, almost to where the crossroad was.
                “Thank you,” you smiled at him, “I have to go to work… Which is in town…” You weren’t very good at goodbyes or see you laters.
                “I can bring you dinner tonight if you want, I mean you are helping me out with getting settled here. It’s the least I can do.” You two now stood at the crossroads.
                “I get home sort of late… Tomorrow though would be better, since I work in the morning and will be done by the afternoon.” You offered, you were curious to how good his cooking is, and you would never pass up on a free meal.
                “Alright, Saturday evening, I will cook and bring over the plates.” He nodded to himself. Before you were about to say goodbye he already flipped around and waved to walk home.
Jinnie was certainly a person you wanted to figure out, you even found the urge to try and paint him in your sketchbook. That urge hasn’t happened to you since high school.
While doing your chores in the little bookstore you saw some tourists, it seemed like your little town was gaining traction and that made you nervous. You liked how it was a small place to live, under the radar. This sort of put a damper on your mood, it had you overthinking.
It kept you over thinking into the next day as well, especially because that Saturday morning more tourists came by, and it scared you. You didn’t want people here, you realized while sweeping you had no right to say that. You were once a foreigner here too. Sighing, you kept mopping the same spot over and over.
                “I think it’s clean.” Someone spoke softly behind you, you turned around to see your other shop owner’s daughter, she was your second friend in town. She got you a job here with her mom in exchange of you tutoring her in English.
                “I-I’m sorry. There is just a lot on my mind…” You mumbled; she turned her head in confusion.
                “The recent abundance of tourists or that handsome man every girl in town is raving about?” She had a wicked grin on her face, “there are whispers about him living in the same neighborhood as you.”
You set the mop to the side, “it’s just the tourists, you know that makes me nervous and there seems to be more of them.”
She nodded, “you can head home early if you want, I need to make some extra money some of the girls in town want to make the handsome man cookies this weekend and I need to buy powdered sugar tomorrow at the market for the finishing touch.”
You thanked her and started to pack up, before you left you turned around, “oh by the way, his name is Jinnie.” You winked at her and walked out. The shop owner’s daughter felt like your sibling, although she wasn’t around often due to her schooling in the next town over. The time you spent with her you cherished. You took a deep breath then smiled to yourself, you had something to look forward to tonight and that was dinner with ‘the handsome man.’ You thought it was so cute that the girls were gossiping about him.
To thank Jinnie you stopped by the general store and picked up some flowers, that weren’t dead like the ones in his front yard.
                “Y/n!” You flipped around and saw your other neighbor, the kind old lady, Gram. You grinned at her; you had already paid for the flowers, so you went over to her.
                “How are you, Gram?” It was nice to see her out and about.
                “Well, I made friends with your next-door neighbor, Hyunjin.” She said and put stuff in her basket. You decided to walk with her and help her with her shopping.
                “Did you?” You asked and got something from the shelf she pointed to. Gram let out a small hum.
                “Yes, and I found out stuff about him for you.” She spoke slyly.
You laughed a tiny bit, “oh really?”
Gram let out a huff and nodded, “yes, he is a few months older than you. He traveled a lot, and he used to sing.”
                “That’s new information to me.” You mumbled to yourself.
                “I can’t hear you when you mumble.” Gram said back.
You apologized quickly and repeated yourself again.
                “There is a lot of things I feel you two could learn from each other.”
Your brows furrowed and pondered what she could mean by that. It was quite an odd thing to say but then again, she was odd herself. You helped your neighbor with the rest of her groceries and walked her back home.
                “Oh, tomorrow, Gram, I am going to the morning market, I will make pumpkin bread for you tomorrow as well, all fresh ingredients.” You said as you helped unpack her groceries in her kitchen. It was filled with old photos of her family; she also had a little collection of porcelain bunnies.
                “I am so excited for that dear.” Gram spoke from her chair in the living room. You finished up and walked in her very floral living space.
                “Is there anything else you need?” You asked.
                “Tell Hyunjin to bring me back my recipe when he’s done with it.” Gram then waved you off.
He borrowed a recipe?
You walked across the street to your humble abode and started to get ready for dinner with Jinnie. You set the red roses down on the table then started to your bathroom. You took a quick sponge bath and tried your best to look presentable. You had thrown out all your makeup a few months after you moved here, and you didn’t want to check the chest at the foot of your bed which was locked up with your old stuff for a reason. Out of sight out of mind. You dug in your wardrobe and saw a nice floral dress and slipped it on. Tying the back you smiled, Gram had a very good fashion sense in her youth. You rummaged through the little box of sewing supplies she gave you and found ribbons, you tied your hair with them. If he was making dinner you had to look presentable. Skipping to the kitchen you dug around your cabinets; you had wine somewhere around here. It was a housewarming present from the man who sold you this home. It had to still be okay… right? You never opened it. As you were rummaging there was a knock on the door, startled you hit your head on the top of the cabinet.
                “Ow…” You mumbled and wobbled up to the door. When you opened you saw Jinnie standing there with a basket in his hands, he must’ve gotten dressed up as well. He looked astronomical even with his choppy messed up hair.
                “Can I come in?” He spoke, a smile gracing his features.
You stepped out of the way and let him in, “do you like red wine? I am pretty sure I have a bottle here. Somewhere.” You mumbled and he followed you into the kitchen.
                “I could use a glass.” He set the basket down by the flowers. You had already resumed crouching by the cabinet, next thing you knew he was next to you helping you search.
                “Oh, the flowers on the table are for you. Figured you’d want something alive.” Chuckling at your own joke you moved the olive oil.
                “There it is.” Jinnie said while laughing slightly with you. He grabbed the bottle and set it on the counter, then put his hand out to help you up. You gladly took it and his soft hands held yours, then quickly let go when you were situated. Much to your dismay.
                “I do love the roses; they are my favorite actually.”
The corners of your mouth curved, “we will have to nurse the bush in your yard then.”
                “That we will.” He walked to the table, and you grabbed your glasses and the wine. Meeting him at the table you saw that he made pasta.
                “Gram said you really liked her pasta, so I tried my best.” Jinnie said and set the table.
                “I love her pasta; she made it for me when I first moved here.” You were quite surprised that he did this. You set the glasses down and poured the wine.
                “So, she said.” Jinnie motioned for you to take a seat and you did, he quickly followed. You saw he was waiting for you to take a bite. When you did you swore you could cry. It tasted so good, it wasn’t quite like Gram’s however, it was still so amazing to your taste buds.
                “You really- wow.” You wiped your mouth with a napkin, “this is really good.”
Jinnie grinned and took a sip of his wine, “I am so relieved, I was a little worried.”
                “You shouldn’t be, this is amazing Jinnie thank you.” You took another bite then washed it down with a small sip of wine.
Jinnie started to eat his food and he looked surprised, “you weren’t just lying to make me feel better, wow.”
Him being surprised by his own cooking made you laugh, hard. He looked up at you and started to laugh.
                “I thought you were just lying to be nice. Honestly.” Jinnie spoke between giggles. You kept giggling.
                “Tomorrow I am going to make that pumpkin bread for Gram, I just have to go to the market in the morning.” You said and took another bite of this amazing recipe.
                “May I join you? I heard the guy at the general store talk about the Sunday markets.” Jinnie asked. You nodded.
                “Of course, you can come with me, I’d love that.”
The way he was so charming and thoughtful really had you entranced. Jinnie was still a mystery to you and maybe that is what made you attracted to him. Or maybe the fact he has been the only guy around your age staying in this town longer than a semester. You didn’t know, but you weren’t complaining.
Chapter 2: His laugh
                “Good morning Jinnie!” You grinned as you swung open your door, the morning breeze already rushing at you.
                “Good morning, Y/n. I haven’t seen you in forever.” He joked as you locked up your home, you smiled remembering the previous night. Your dinner with him. Before he had left, you helped him clean his plates and you two pretty much finished half of the wine.
You two walked down the path to town, you really liked getting to walk with him. He started to open up and talk to you little by little. You think he realized he was in the same position as you, you were the only person near his age.
                “Gram said you told her you can sing, I forgot to ask you about that last night.” You said and he almost dropped his basket.
                “Gram told you?” He chuckled, you two were now at the top of the hill.
                “She did, I would like to hear you sing.” You said and looked at him, the sunrise warming both your bodies.
                “Maybe, I prefer dancing though.” Jinnie said and turned to you.
                “Dancing, singing, what else can you do?” You asked, Gram was right, he was something.
Jinnie smiled to himself, as if remembering something, “well, I can speak Korean too, some Japanese, uhhh…”
Your jaw was on the path, “and now you want to pick up French? That is very impressive.”
                “Korean was my first language,” Jinnie spoke softly, the tired features washed on his face again.
                “Can you show me your dancing one time?” You asked, wanting to change the subject. Jinnie once again smiled.
                “I would love to.”
You two arrived at the Sunday morning market not much later then that conversation. The heart of the town was bustling, you recognized the tourists again. You looked down and then up at Jinnie when he tugged the sleeve of your sweater.
                “What do we need to pick up?”
Some of the ingredients you already had at home, “we just need eggs, pumpkin puree, and cinnamon butter.” You said to him as he leaned down so he could hear you. He nodded and led you to the dairy stand. When the guy asked him what he wanted in French he started panicking and looked to you. You cleared your throat.
                “Je voudrais cinq œufs, sil vous plait. (I would like five eggs please)” You said to the man, he nodded and handed you the five eggs carefully. You softly set them in Jinnie’s basket and paid for them.
                “Merci! (Thank you)” You said to the merchant and continued on your way.
                “Thank you.” Jinnie said down to you. You smiled up at him.
                “This will be your first lesson, okay?” You grabbed him and pulled him to a bench. He sat down and you sat next to him.
                “Okay I am ready.” Jinnie said, his hands still gripping the basket.
                “When you ask for something, you say, ‘Je voudrais’ that directly translates to, ‘I would like.’” You explain to him, he repeated it back to you and you helped with pronunciation.
                “Then right after you say what you’d like, you then end it with ‘sil vous plait’ which means ‘please.’” Once again, he repeated it back to you, you smiled.
                “If you want you can even say, ‘merci,’ which is, ‘thank you.’” You further explained, “if you’re REALLY thankful, you can say, ‘merci beaucoup.’” He nodded and took note of your mini lesson.
Standing up you put your hand out instinctively, he grabbed it, and you led him to the next stand, this one had fruits. This is good practice. Plus, you wanted an orange to snack on. You led Jinnie up to the stand and he looked a little nervous. You told him how to ask for two oranges. When the guy asked him what he wants, he gulped and then spoke.
                “Je voudrais…” He looked down at you, you looked up at him and squeezed his hand, “deux oranges, sil vous… plait.”
You grinned at him, you handed the man the required money and you two got your oranges.
                “Jinnie that was amazing I am so proud of you.” You shook his arm that didn’t have the basket in it, in celebration.
                “My pronunciation was… okay?” He looked down at you, you nodded.
                “You did really well. The guy didn’t even look annoyed at you!” You giggled then continued to drag him around with you to get the other ingredients.
When you two were about to leave someone called his name, he whipped around and saw a group of five girls run up to him. You recognized one of them, it was your boss’s daughter.
                “We wanted to make these for you!” One of the girls said, another girl handed him a bundle of what you assumed were the cookies. He smiled awkwardly at them.
                “Ah… Merci… beaucoup!” He looked at you and you gave him a thumbs up. The group of girls started to giggle before practically running away. You heard whispers of, bel homme, and il est tres gentil. It made you laugh a bit and you two started your walk home.
                “What were they saying as they were walking away?” Jinnie asked you as you opened your front gate for him. You started to laugh as you dug in your pockets for your keys.
                “They were saying you were beautiful and very kind.” You saw his shocked expression and then you turned to open your door to your home.
Walking in, he set the basket down on the counter, and his gift on the table.
                “Well, that was very…” He looked at you.
                “Gentille.” You finished for him. Jinnie nodded and giggled then repeated what you said.
                “Gentille of them.”
You started to unload the groceries, leaving the ingredients for the pumpkin bread out. You saw at the bottom of his basket he had Gram’s recipe at the bottom. You smiled to yourself.
                “What can I help with?” Jinnie asked breaking you out of your thoughts.
                “Could you get the bowls and stuff please?” You asked him, he nodded and started on his first task. He retrieved them in no time and soon you two were baking.
                “JINNIE, CAN YOU GRAB THIS?” You wobbled your way from the back pantry where all the flours and sugars were, he quickly rushed over and grabbed the flour too, helping guide you to the kitchen.
                “Okay we did it!” Jinnie said and wiped his face. You started to laugh, and he looked at you with a confused look.
                “You have pumpkin puree on your face.” You reached up and wiped it off his forehead, still giggling at him.
Jinnie looked away from you, a smile on his face.
                “Can you preheat the oven?” You asked as you started to mix all your ingredients. He hopped to it instantly.
Once the bread was in the oven you two found yourselves looking over the bookshelf in your room, “you have a lot of good reads.”
                “Thank you.” You sat down on your bed and watched him, “I needed books to keep myself occupied when I first moved here.”
                “You don’t have a phone or a laptop?” He asked and turned around, holding a book of Monet’s work and history.
                “I do, they are just locked away, if someone in town wants to contact me, they can just use the landline.” You said simply.
Jinnie looked up from the book and right at you, “in that chest by your bed?”
You nodded, you didn’t look up from the book you were reading, “mhm.”
                “Can I ask why they are locked away?” You felt the bed shift, he sat by your sprawled out body.
                “Can I ask how you found yourself here?” You sat up now looking at him with curious eyes.
Jinnie thought for a moment, “I ran away.” He looked away from you as if he was ashamed of himself. Your features quickly softened.
                “It’s… It’s okay…” You spoke, just above a whisper.
Jinnie looked at you, “I was a coward. I am a-“
                “I ran away too.” You said quickly, his eyes widened, “there was a lot going on for me back home, um it became too much so I packed everything and left.”
                “Y/n, I understand that more than you know.” He said and grabbed your hand.
You looked up at him, “maybe one day me and you will go more into detail about why we ran.” You stood up still holding onto his hand, “but as for right now, we have pumpkin bread to deliver.”
                                                                                                ~+~
                “You know when I was a little girl, I used to have the most beautiful blond hair.” Gram said as she sliced the bread for you and Jinnie. She insisted you two have one piece even though it was your gift to her.
                “Your hair is still beautiful, Gram.” Jinnie said to her.
Gram let out a quiet laugh, “Hyunjin you are too kind…” She plated the bread and poured some iced tea for you both, and for her. Then she sat down.
                “Have you ever had Y/n’s pumpkin bread?” Gram asked Jinnie. He shook his head, “you’ll love it, I remember when she first made it for me.” Gram winked at you, and you smiled bashfully. Then you three dove in. Jinnie instantly complimented your baking. Gram told you this was your best batch yet.
                “I had help this time so maybe that’s why.” You smiled at Jinnie.
Gram laughed, “you better help her more if this is how good the bread is going to be!” She joked. You and Jinnie helped clean the cups and plates and she led you two to her living room.
                “I want to show you guys photos in my youth.” She sat you guys on the couch and then plopped herself in the middle of you two. Gram started to talk about how after some events, her and her husband decided to move into this little town to get away. Neither of them knew a lick of French but they learned together. You could tell Jinnie was absolutely enthralled with her romantic tale. His eyes lit up and he would ask her questions, she gladly answered. It made your heart warm; he was so effortlessly charming.
At some point she wanted to take her late afternoon nap, so she kicked you two out, Jinnie walked you to your door.
                “Walk with me to school tomorrow?” He asked with hopefully eyes.
                “I wouldn’t miss it Jinnie.” You spoke and stood at your doorway, the warm air in contrast to the breeze outside.
                “I will pick you up this time.” He said, you nodded and before you could say goodbye, just as usual he flipped around and waved. You shut the door behind you. Giggling you rushed to the bathroom, it was time to take a bath and settle down for the day. You still had to study your art history too. Oh, Jinnie just made you so giddy!
                                                                                                ~+~
 The next morning you knew you overslept because you heard knocking on your bedroom window. You groaned and rubbed your eyes, when you saw his silhouette through your curtains you hopped up and ran through your house, your slippers making you slide. Quickly, you opened the door and waved him in. Jinnie’s warm smile woke you up more.
                “Uh here if you didn’t have breakfast um make something, the pantry is yours!” You ran back to your room to get ready for the day. You threw on some old pants and a t-shirt. Your hair was a mess and part of you was a little embarrassed that Jinnie saw you like this. You threw on a straw hat and jacket, almost falling over you put on your boots.
                “JINNIE IS MY BAG OUT THERE!?” You yelled from your room. You heard him quickly walk around.
                “YES, I GOT IT!” He spoke back. You smiled and walked out, now ready to leave and walk to school with him. When you met him by the door, he handed you your bag.
                “Thank you!” You smiled and next thing you knew you two were walking to the school.
                “Oh, I woke up a little early this morning, so I made sandwiches for us, if you want to eat them with me after class.” Jinnie said and showed you the wrapped sandwiches in his bag, “I also took the two oranges from your fruit bowl.”
                “I will look forward to it, I shouldn’t have work today so I would love to have lunch. Especially your cooking.” Your heart felt warm around him again.
Jinnie let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, “I want to thank you by the way.”
You looked to him as you two just walked made it at the top of the hill, “why’s that?”
                “Welcoming me here, you could have just let me figure it out on my own, but you haven’t.” He spoke softly, “you are letting me depend on you.”
                “Well, you still have to help me with my landscape art.” You nudged him, Jinnie giggled.
                “I have that planned actually; I am trying to find a nice landscape for us.”
This sort of confused you, “you don’t want to paint the town?”
                “I will always paint the town, however, let’s say you get frustrated, at least you’ll have a nice view to calm you down.” He explained, “my first day here when I was still at the inn, I painted the general store, or at least tried to, and I couldn’t get it right. Then someone walked by, and it was the most beautiful view I have ever seen.”
You felt a pang of something, your stomach did flips, who captured his eye?
                “Did you ever get to see your view again?” You asked, Jinnie looked down at his feet, smiling to himself.
                “Almost every day actually.”
That’s odd, “do you know their name?”
                “Yes.” Jinnie giggled once more.
                “Do I know them?” Yes, you were nosy, you couldn’t help it.
Jinnie let out another laugh, except this time he threw his head back then looked at you, “yes you know them.”
You started to ponder as you two walked up to the school, “wait what’s their name?”
                “Y/n.” Jinnie opened the door for you, and you walked in, then spun around.
                “Yes?” You asked and took off your hat, Jinnie smiled at you and tried to fix your messy hair.
                “That’s their name.” He said simply and started to walk to the classroom. He left you dumbfounded in the middle of the hall. Once back to reality you started to run after him.
                “HEY!”
During class Jinnie would make an effort to not pay any attention to you, especially after how flustered he made you right beforehand. It made a little spark inside you; you thought it was funny. The way you’d catch him staring and then he’d dramatically look away. It made you laugh to yourself while you studied your history books. Mr. W started to teach the class about August Friedrich Schenk. You tuned in a bit always being interested by the way there was always an overwhelming dread in the art August Friedrich produced. You struggled painting animals so maybe that’s also why the artist also intrigued you. After the lecture Mr. W assigned you to run some errands to the other teachers, things like reports, attendance, stuff like that. You quickly did as you were told and found yourself greeted by your soon to be coworkers. One of them didn’t have a class for another hour so you found yourself making small talk.
                “Is Mr. W still being nice?” She asked and started to write her lesson plan on the board. She was the poetry teacher, Ms. Felicity.
                “Yes, thankfully, it is really different from being an art student in his class.” You took a sip of tea that she offered you in a paper classroom cup, “he has always been nicer to me though. I am thankful for that. He really has taken me under his wing the past two years.”
                “I’m glad, especially since you’ll be working here soon.” Ms. Felicity turned around and smiled at you.
                “Do you live in the next town over?” You asked, suddenly curious. She nodded.
                “It is quite the commute but it’s worth it.”
You nodded; you remembered the town over was very nice.
                “You know. I wanted to be the art teacher, but here I am doing poetry.” She spoke softly.
You two continued to talk until it was time for you to head back to Mr. W. You found yourself happy that maybe you made a new friend. You seemed to be lucky in that department lately. Walking back into the classroom you saw that Mr. W was close to finishing his lesson. You sat at your little desk and waited for the class to be dismissed.
                “Alright, you have your assignments for the next week, remember due March 13th. I will see you guys tomorrow.” The international students started to leave, Mr. W gave you more things to study for the upcoming week
                “I am very proud of your progress lately, Y/n.” Mr. W said, you gleamed at the praise.
                “Thank you so much, Mr. W!” You quickly picked up your notebooks and bag, packing up. Your teacher made small talk with you about the next assignments for the art students and then sent you off.
Once again you met Jinnie outside of the classroom, “hungry?” He asked. You smiled at him and placed your hat back on your head.
                “Starved!”
                                                                                                ~+~
                “The school has poetry too?” Jinnie asked as you two sat in the grass still in short distance to the school. You were laying on your jacket and you suddenly sat up.
                “Yes, did you not look at the classes?” You laughed and took another bite of the wonderful sandwich Jinnie made for you two.
                “Well… While signing up I was in a bit of a rush.” He said and sipped his reusable water bottle.
You finished off your sandwich and laid back down, “makes sense how you just appeared out of nowhere.”
Jinnie laughed, “I really did huh?”
                “Yes, shockingly. You just poofed.” You flipped on your stomach and looked up at him.
                “Is that why you ask me so many questions?” Jinnie teased.
You nodded, “that is exactly why I ask you an abundance of questions. You pique my curiosity.”
                “At least you don’t just see me for my looks.” He said quietly. Your brows furrowed and you could sense the sadness in his tone. It was a total 180. You wondered where it came from, especially where the statement itself came from. Yes, he was handsome, however did the people who he ran away from just see him as that?
                “No, I see you for your cooking.” You wanted to lighten the mood, anything to get that smile back on his face.
Jinnie rolled his eyes and smiled down at you, “okay Y/n. I see how it is.”
                “Alright! We both have homework to do!” You stood up and put your hand out. He took it and you helped him up, cleaning up your mini picnic you two went on your merry way.
                “We definitely should plant pumpkins in July.” You said and skipped along with him.
                “So, they’ll be ready for Halloween, right?” Jinnie asked, you hummed.
                “Exactly! The town actually does a whole thing for Halloween. It is really cute, too many tourists though.” You said, noticing once more he was lost in thought.
                “Hyunjin…?” You tested the waters of saying his actual name, this caught his attention instantly.
                “Am I in trouble?” Poor guy looked and sounded terrified, you laughed slightly.
                “Nono I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Jinnie nodded to himself, and he thanked you softly, “it’s just some weird stuff coming back to me again, I’ll be okay.” He reassured you.
                “I understand what you mean, that happened to me on my first birthday here. I hung out with Gram the entire day.” You recalled the memory, “it was weird not being around anyone I knew.”
                “My birthday is in two weeks.” He said suddenly.
Your eyes widened, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER!” You practically jumped on him; soft giggles escaped his lips.
                “We’ve been busy it didn’t come up.”
You huffed as you two made it up the hill, “what day?”
Jinnie thought for a moment, his way of keeping you in suspense, “hmmm I don’t remember.”
                “HYUNJIN!”
He looked offended that you used his actual name, “now I’m not going to tell you.”
                “Jinni- “
                “March 20th.”
You laughed at his suddenness, “okay good! We can plan something!” Jinnie looked at you, he looked a little unreadable.
                “You don’t have to…” He mumbled bashfully, you two walked into your neighborhood.
                “Well, I want to, I don’t want you to have the same sad birthday as me when I first moved here.” You were determined, “what kind of cake do you want?”
                “May I request your pumpkin bread?” He asked hopefully. You grinned at him.
                “Yes, you may!”
                                                                                                ~+~
The past week you and Jinnie would continue this routine of walking together to school and if you didn’t have work, you or he would make lunch. At one point he brought you lunch at work; it made you feel special. You found yourself cherishing his attention. He was way different from everyone else you have ever met. Hyunjin’s personality was as bright as the reflection of the sun on the water, and you were basking in it. There was never much to do in this town, you didn’t mind. But now that Jinnie was here, you had lots to look forward to, your schedule didn’t seem as mundane.
Saturday night you two were having dinner at your home once more, this time he brought you flowers, and you were cooking. You had music playing from the old music player in your living room.
                “What did Mr. W pull you aside for yesterday? I forgot to ask.” You said as you stirred the seasonings for the oven baked potatoes.
                “You forgetting to ask something? Impossible.” Jinnie joked. You turned around and gave him the stink eye, he giggled.
                “He wanted to look at my sketchbook, he said on Monday he wants me to bring in some of my work that’s on a canvas.”
You flipped around, “no way.” Jinnie gave you a look as if he didn’t know why you were surprised, “he’s scouting you!”
                “Psh no.” He waved his hand then took a sip of the wine he brought for you both.
                “Psh yes.” You said back and started to pour the seasoning on the potatoes. Once they were in the oven you sat down next to him at the table.
                “Mr. W takes one student from the class and scouts them, then if he chooses you then you get a trip to Paris for a chance to display your work at a gallery.” You explained, “I got picked my first year here when I was a student, look.” You stood up and grabbed the picture frame that was on your side table in the living room. You stomped back over and showed him the photo.
                “See look.” You shoved the picture frame in his hands, “I was really young and he really took me in. I owe him a lot.”
Jinnie smiled at your photo, you were holding what he presumed to be your artwork, you didn’t look much different, “your hair was shorter.”
                “That’s what you’re taking from this? Jinnie!” You grabbed the frame from him again, but he didn’t want to let go.
                “Wait I wanna look at you more.” Jinnie giggled, you sighed and let go of the frame. After a few minutes of him asking questions about your younger self he handed it back.
                “You really think he’s scouting me?” Jinnie asked and poured more wine for himself and you.
                “Absolutely! Whenever I walk by your station I may or may not peek at what you’re working on.”
Mr. W had to be scouting him, this is what your mentor does when he notices talent. Jinnie had that talent.
                “You look at my work while I’m working!?” He dramatically waved his hands around and it made you giggle.
                “I did when we first met, didn’t I?”
Jinnie thought for a moment then nodded, “okay you did but I let you.”
                “And why did you exactly?”
                “I told you; I think you’re pretty, beautiful, gorgeous even, the most beautiful view here. Why wouldn’t I give you the opportunity to be charmed by my work.” The wine must’ve started kicking in because he was getting bold.
You face heated up and you felt yourself scoffing, “you still have to teach me your methods. I am still holding you to that.”
                “I hope you do.” Jinnie said and leaned back smiling. He talked more about his walks he would take when you were working, saying he finally did find the perfect spot to take you painting. You eventually pulled out the bake potatoes and set up your plates, you also fried vegetables. Plating the food, you set it down in front of him.
                “This smells wonderful.” He smiled up at you. You smiled back warmly and sat in front of him, “can you teach me something?”
You picked up on him always wanting to learn something from you, “coffee grounds are bad for your drain… uhhhh…” You thought for a moment, “I don’t think Vincent Van Gogh killed himself.”
                “Oh? Elaborate.” Jinnie loved listening to you, and you loved listening to him. Eventually you two finished eating and you found yourself digging under your bed for old artwork. He wanted to see your portrait work.
                “Most of them I sold to tourists at the market when I first moved here. These are the leftovers.” You handed him the canvases and he looked at your art in awe. It ranged from big to small pieces, all capturing these people���s details. Their very soul on your canvas.
                “These are beautiful…” He breathed; he traced the canvas with his finger extremely delicately. You looked down.
                “You should’ve seen the ones that were sold, I didn’t want to let them go but I had to make money, and this was before my bookstore job.” You spoke sadly, he looked up at you.
                “We will make more pieces like these together.” Jinnie then looked down and more at your other artwork. The thought made your soul happy; you went to dig more under your bed and found old sketchbooks, one labeled abstract and you handed it to him.
                “These were from highschool, if they are a bit dark, I apologize, I don’t really like looking back at these much.” You handed it to him and ever so softly he took it and started flipping through the pages. You found yourself scooting next to him and looking at the worn pages with him. Your eyes went to his face, he looked concentrated as he read the words hidden in your work.
                “You made these in highschool?” He whispered, you nodded.
                “It wasn’t the best time in my life… Some decisions I made led me here though, so I guess part of me should be thankful.” You whispered back. The music from the living room still playing a bittersweet tune.
                “I can relate, although my last year was when I sold myself.” He flipped the page; you were studying him while he studied your work.
You looked back at the sketchbook in front of him, one day you knew you would find out about him. Maybe that night was tonight, “can you tell me?”
Jinnie looked back at you softly setting the book down, he was so gentle with your work, “yeah… I can tell you. But you can’t tell anyone else otherwise I have to leave.”
                “I promise.” You looked him in his eyes, you could drown in them. He stood up and led you to sit down next to him on your bed. You shifted so one leg was dangling off and the other was folded on the bed. He sat forward, hands together. He looked stressed.
                “Jinnie you don’t have to tell me if you aren’t ready.” Your hand found his way to his shoulder, and he looked at you.
                “No, it… it’s okay, I want to tell you.”
You nodded and got ready to have your listening ears on.
                “I used to live in Seoul, like Korea. I was very popular,” he looked away, “I was an idol, that’s why I can sing and dance. People really loved me, as much as I liked it, popularity comes with controversy. Almost every week something was wrong or something horrible was being said to me.” Jinnie took a deep breath and you grabbed his hand, he squeezed it and continued, “as much as I loved being in the spotlight and seeing the adoring eyes of people, I couldn’t take the constant pressure, getting in trouble for rumors someone else started, things I didn’t even do, I was tired, I was always scared of someone always watching me, so I ran the second I could. It is irresponsible of me, and I am sure the past month people have been freaking out, but maybe not, I don’t know, I wasn’t allowed to be active anyways when I left.”
Your hand squeezed his again, “I don’t think you’re a coward Jinnie, I just think you were burnt out and lost. That is okay and it doesn’t make you any less of who you are.”
He nodded, “thank you.”
                “Anything for you.” You spoke wholeheartedly.
                “Can you tell me why you ran?” He asked, you took a deep breath and nodded, Jinnie turned his whole body towards you, now he held both your hands in his large ones. He always wore the same rings.
                “In high school, I didn’t have a lot of friends, so when I finally did make them, I was naïve. I really landed myself in the wrong crowd. I was young and stupid to think these people actually did care for me. One of them I thought I fell in love with,” you felt your eyes start to water, “I was wrong, it wasn’t love, my frontal lobe hadn’t even developed so how was I supposed to know that what was happening to me wasn’t love.”
A tear fell from your eye, and he caught it with his hand. You continued, “at some point it started getting really bad, I got really scared for my safety and my family’s safety so I ran. I never looked back.”
Jinnie held tightly onto your hands, “thank you for telling me.” His voice was calming, and you found yourself crashing into him, hugging him desperately. He cradled you in his arms and let you cry.
                “It’s okay… Y/n let it out… I know…” His hand found its way to your head, and he played with your hair.
                “I miss being home, but I know it’s safer for everyone that I left.” You said in between sobs. Hyunjin just held onto you tighter.                 “I know… I know exactly what that feels like.” Hyunjin kept wiping away your tears as they fell, at some point he let a few of his own tears fall.
Chapter 3: His Kindness & His Birthday
When you woke up the next morning you had a killer headache, when you stood up your head felt like someone took a bat and constantly smacked you.
                “God…” You mumbled and walked toward your bathroom, you cleaned yourself up and started to recall what happened last night. When you walked out of your room you smelled food; good food, was Jinnie still here? You walked down your hallway quickly and saw him standing by the stove, he was cooking. Your curious eyes silently watched him as he stirred what you presumed to be scrambled eggs. He must’ve brought cooking ingredients over from his home. You watched as he swayed back and forth to the music he had playing on; he really could dance. It made you smile to yourself; he really could feel the music. It was impressive.
You didn’t want to embarrass him, so you walked back to your room and called his name.
                “Jinnie!” You re-walked down the hallway.
                “Cooking breakfast!” He called back, you walked into the kitchen, he turned around and grinned at you. The sun was peeking through the curtains, and he was illuminated beautifully, “good morning. Are you feeling okay?”
                “I have a bit of a headache.” You said and looked at what he was cooking, you were right, scrambled eggs.
                “Here, I’ll get you some water. Watch the eggs please.” He spun around and started getting you your glass. You hummed and watched the eggs; it was scarily domestic. Part of you didn’t mind, Jinnie is kind and you have never related to anyone as much as him.
Jinnie handed you a cold glass of water and took over the food again, “drink up, if needed we can run to a less secluded town for headache meds.”
                “I think I might still have some in the cabinet in the bathroom…” You pondered and sipped the water. He started to plate the eggs and put jam on the toast.
                “Where did you get all this food?” You asked, as you sat down on the table. He quickly put the food down and sat with you.
                “I had some back at my house and then I picked up the jam this morning from the general store.” He said simply.
You nearly choked on your food, “you walked to town this morning?”
Jinnie nodded, “mhm, after our crying session last night we must’ve both passed out. You were still asleep when I woke up, so I wanted to make you breakfast.”
                “That’s very kind of you.” You took a bite of your food and once again your tastebuds were delighted.
                “I figured it would be nice after yesterday.” He spoke softly. Yeah, yesterday… You were hit with waves of memories. He ended up telling you why he ran, and you told him why you ran too. He was an idol… Like a celebrity?
                “Do you have any questions? You have a cute funny look on your face.” Jinnie looked up at you.
                “So you were-“ You didn’t even know how to ask.
Jinnie wiped his mouth of any crumbs, “an idol, performer, celebrity, whatever you want to call it.”
You nodded, “are you ever going to go back?” Part of you didn’t want him to. Your eyes just watched him as he shrugged and looked away from you.
                “Not for a while…” He mumbled, then made eye contact with you, “so you’ll be bothered by me for a long time.” Jinnie smiled at you which you gladly returned to him.
                “I look forward to it.”
                                                                                ~+~
The next week on his birthday you showed up at his home in the early morning, you were surprised that he was already up. Sometimes you noticed you had to grab the key under his mat and get him out of bed.
                “Good morning, Y/n!” He said in a sing song voice, you noticed his basket was packed full of things.
                “Good morning, Jinnie!” You grabbed the pumpkin bread from behind your back, “happy birthday!”
You saw his eyes light up and he grabbed the bread, smelling it. After, he set it down and pulled you in a hug, “thank you!”
When he pulled away, he put his hands on your shoulders, “you’re free today right?”
                “Yes, I called off for your birthday.” You smiled brightly up at him.
Jinnie clasped his hands together, “perfect!” He quickly rushed to his basket and put the bread in, “we are going for a walk!”
                “Right now?” You questioned.
                “Yes!” He grabbed his basket and your hand, “we need to pick up your art supplies!”
After the pitstop at your home, you two went on your way.
                “It’s your birthday I should be surprising you!” You walked and swayed your bag back and forth. He giggled and copied your actions.
                “Well, this is how I want to spend my birthday.” Jinnie said, he led the way, walking in front of you. He would steal glances at you as you two walked.
                “Where are we heading?” You were so curious as to where your mysterious neighbor, companion, friend, was leading you.
                “You never fail to be so curious.” His voice was warm.
                “Welllllllll!” You continuously swung your bag back and forth.
Jinnie turned around to look at you and turned his head, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t pinpoint, “do you trust me?” He asked.
You nodded your head, “yes I do.”
                “Perfect.” He grabbed your hand and continued to lead you. You really tried not to get nervous, then your hand would become sweaty.
He started to lead you to the back side of the neighborhood, you decided to keep asking him questions.
                “Is thiiiis… A nice place we’re going to?”
                “Of course, it’s nice, I’m actually surprised that you haven’t been here.” He spoke.
You looked at him, “I don’t usually go this way. Can you still dance for me.”
Jinnie giggled, “yes Y/n.”
                “Sing?”
                “Yes, Y/n only for you.”
You started to swing your hands back and forth, you two were walking next to each other now.
                “Okay we are getting close so close your eyes.” Jinnie said excitedly.
Your eyes closed and you couldn’t help but smile, you let him guide you deeper into the trees. Your feet almost betrayed you a couple of times, with the rock and loose dirt, but he caught you and just held onto you tighter. You felt his warm hands on your arms then they covered your eyes.
                “No peeking.” He said, you let a giggle out.
                “I’m not peeking!”
                “Suuuure.” He teased.
In the next minute he took his hands off your face, “okay wait here.” You heard him giggling and shifting around.
                “I have to get cushions down n stuff.” He explained, “keep your eyes closed!”
                “I am! I am! I promise.” You covered your own eyes. You heard him shuffle around more until finally.
                “Okay open!”
When you opened your eyes you were met with a beautiful scenic lake, and Jinnie was standing there with a ‘well?’ stance.
                “I found this place a little while ago while getting lost to the town, total opposite direction. But it was worth it.” He jogged up to you, “plus it’s perfect to paint.”
You never really had someone be this thoughtful in years, let alone someone who wants to take care of you just because. It was hard to not get a little emotional.
                “Wow…” You breathed.
                “Perfect right?!” He grabbed your hand and sat you down on the cushion. He pulled out the canvases and paints.
                “Just try to paint it, I want to see you do it. Not how I do it.” He said and sat down next to you. You nodded, still in awe about this whole thing. You took out your brushes and started to paint, this time you felt eyes on you. You weren’t watching him paint; he was observing you now.
                “You’re making me nervous.” You spoke just above a whisper.
                “You do this to me all the time.” Jinnie leaned closer to you, you could feel his breath on you.
                “Does it make you nervous?” Your eyes kept going back and forth from the view to your canvas. You kept your stomach erupt in butterflies when he leaned even closer to you.
                “Yeah, it does.” Jinnie said, “you’re doing great by the way, I don’t see why you need my help with this.” He continued to watch you paint in silence, you were about halfway done.
                “Did you even need my help?” Jinnie teased.
You whipped your head over to him and bumped your face with his, he started giggling almost manically.
                “What?” You questioned him, waving the paintbrush, you ended up splattering paint on him. Now both of you were laughing.
                “You know what!” He grabbed a brush and started whipping paint at you too. You two started to battle with paintbrushes. The different color droplets started to spray everywhere.
                “Ah! Jinnie!” You grabbed a glob of blue acrylic paint and whipped it at him, he retaliated by grabbing yellow paint. At some point you two were chasing after each other.
                “Get back here!” Jinnie said, you turned around and saw he was right behind you. You yelped and started to run backwards right into the lake. Jinnie started laughing at you now that you were soaked. But when he skidded at the edge of the lake, he slipped on the mud. His body landed right next to yours with a splash. His head peaked out of the water, his hair everywhere. The water droplets mixing with the paint that stained his face. You didn’t know how he could look more beautiful.
                “Look who’s laughing now.” You teased him. His large hand splashed water at you. You gasped and splashed water back at him. You both eventually stood up still splashing water at each other. You started to try and wade away from him, still laughing. You made it out of the water and kept running.
                “Y/nnnnn!” He whined, you turned around and taunted him. You closed your eyes and stuck your tongue out. Before you knew it, he was dragging you back into the lake. You were yelping and laughing.
                “Jiiiinniee!”
                                                SPLASH
When you opened your eyes, you saw he was right on top of you, “whoops I fell in too.”
                “You schmo!” You laughed, closing your eyes again, and tilted your head back, letting the lake soak your hair.
                “Schmo?!” He grabbed your shoulders and lightly shook you, your giggles escaping you. When you opened your eyes again your hair was partially blocking your view. But once again you were met with his eyes staring back at you with that far off look he had earlier. Jinnie smiled at you like you were a warm cup of coffee on the coldest day of the year. His hand, still dripping with the lake water brushed your hair out of your eyes.
                “Tu es belle (beautiful girl).” Jinnie whispered under his breath.
                “Where did you learn that?” You whispered back, his hand cupped your cheek.
                “Picked up stuff from Gram.” His eyes never left yours, “she wanted me to know how to compliment you, to woo you per say… I intend to do so. Is it working?”
                “Oui.” You grinned at him and tilted your head back again, partially because you didn’t want him to see your flustered face. Your face burned when you felt his soft lips touch your cheek; your breath hitched, and you looked up at him.
                “Was that too much?” He asked his voice wavering slightly, one of his hands still held onto your waist and to the side of your face.
                “It wasn’t enough.” You put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him. He jumped a bit before quickly melting into your touch.
                                                                                                ~+~
                “I think that this piece is better than any of my landscapes.”
You looked at the painting you created which was now hung on his wall, “you helped create it.”
                “The paint splatters really do add to the landscape, don’t they?” Jinnie placed his hands on your waist, “definitely my favorite birthday present, this year.”
                “I’m glad this birthday was good for you.” You grinned up at him and tackled him into a hug. He started laughing.
                “You made it better.” He kissed your forehead.
                “Walk with me to school tomorrow?” You questioned.
                “Mmmm I’d have to check my schedule… I think I only have a rose bush to nurture with a gorgeous girl in the afternoon… Yeah, I can fit you in for a walk in the morning.”
                                                                                                ~+~
The next few weeks were peaceful, you and Jinnie’s routine became a part of your lives. He started to sleep over often, and you would sleep over at his home frequently as well. Your favorite thing to do with him was cook, sometimes he would sway with you while the pasta boiled. He would softly spin you while the bread needed to rise. Jinnie was a dream come true in your world. Your heart never felt so safe with anyone before. Life was simple and you two cherished that. The way he would look at you with love and adoration in his eyes is something you will always cherish.
Now you were painting in the living room of his home, he was picking up groceries so you two could bake together for Gram. You bit the end of the wood on your paintbrush, a sick habit you have developed over time. One Jinnie would giggle at.
                “My intended I’m home!” He called from the door, you quickly hopped up and followed his voice. There he was in all his glory, with his basket overflowing with groceries. You grinned and practically jumped in his arms. Jinnie yelped and then returned your giggles.
                “Miss me?”
                “Always.” You pulled away and led him to his kitchen. You helped him put away groceries and started to set up for the now weekly bread. Gram was very happy about this.
                “Oh, I also picked something up from the back of the market.” Jinnie sprung up and walked back outside, the way he sauntered always made you smile. He made you smile, especially when he came back from outside with this giant box.
                “This guy at the back of the market was selling things, and I noticed on your bookshelf you have a lot of old golden spine books at the top of your shelf.” He spoke excitedly, you honestly forgot about those old children’s books at the top, your main priority now was the old art books. Jinnie set the box on the counter, “the guy I think said that he had no idea if it still works, but! Even if it doesn’t maybe you could take the cases and make a collage.”
You opened up the big box and saw a ton of old VHS tapes, with a player to watch them. You saw old films from the 90s that ranged from The Titanic to old Disney Princess movies. Your eyes lit up, before you left home you had an obsession with movies of any kind. Your obsession slowed down when you moved here.
                “Jinnie what about a TV?” You looked up, questioning him.
He gave you a toothy grin, “when I first bought this house he mentioned a REALLY old TV in the attic. If it doesn’t work, we can just take a trip to the next town over.”
Once again, your eyes lit up, “Jinnie!” You hugged him again and he smiled into your neck.
                “I figured it would be nice to watch movies other than art documentaries in class, not that I don’t love them.” He mumbled, still holding onto you as if you would disappear any minute, “I also picked something else up.” He pulled away from you and pulled something out of his pocket, it was a small gold necklace, with a rose adorned on the front.
                “Jinnie…!” Your breath hitched.
He spun you around and placed the necklace on you, “he was also selling antique jewelry, he discounted it for me. It reminds me of the rosebush that’s now blooming outside of my house. All because of you.”
You turned around and hugged him tightly. Hwang Hyunjin was everything you wanted in a partner...
                “You’re so thoughtful.” You pulled away from him, looking at him with stars, “we can set up the movie night tonight and thank you so much for the necklace! Now! Gram has some bread to be made!”
Jinnie nodded with the same dreamy look and you two started baking up a storm. Gram was very happy seeing you two spend so much time together. You noticed how overtime Jinnie really did pay so close attention to her stories. He loved them, especially the love stories. Part of him didn’t seem real to you. When you two parted ways from Gram she gave you and Jinnie a hug and you two walked back across the street.
                “You seem to pay more attention to me than Gram now.” He teased, opening his door. You huffed as he let you in first.
                “I can’t help it, you’re cute when you’re enthralled in something.” You spun around.
Jinnie chuckled, “I’ll set everything up, do you want to maaaaybe plate some fruit and bread for us pleaaaase.”
                “Didn’t you just have my pumpkin bread at Grams?” Your eyes teased him. Jinnie whined and you quickly gave in. You skipped into the kitchen and started to make a snack, it was getting late and you assumed you were sleeping here so you sidetracked into his room. Looking around you found your set of pajamas that you kept at his home. Then you skipped back into the kitchen and finished plating your guy’s food. From the room you heard him curse slightly, you walked in and set the plates on the coffee table. Squatting by him you softly rubbed his back.
                “Want tea too?”
Jinnie nodded, his brows furrowed. You could tell he was determined to make this movie night work. It was something you really loved about him; he would try. You were never used to men like this growing up. You happily started the kettle and made tea.
                “MY DEAREST INTENDED!” He started running into the kitchen, “I did it! I did it!”
                                                                                                ~+~
                “Are you sure you want to go through the chest?” He asked as you knelt at the foot of your bed, you took a deep breath and nodded.
                “I think it’s time, plus I might’ve stole a couple photo albums, you’ll get to see baby me.”
Jinnie grinned at this and you unlocked the big trunk, it was like how you left it two years ago, almost three. You had an old sweater, joggers, your backpack, laptop, phone, everything.
                “Woah.” Jinnie said and started digging through the trunk of stuff. He was really looking for the small photo albums. You took out your phone and laptop, tossing them aside.
                “I totally forgot I packed this.” You giggled as you picked up a copy of The Shining.
                “Are you a Stephen King fan?” He mumbled, still looking for the photos of your past. You hummed.
                “I was, then I read IT and got weirded out.”
You heard Jinnie laugh, then he pulled out something from your backpack, “a Taylor Swift CD?”
                “I WAS LIKE 19!” You retorted; he started giggling more.
                “I prefer Lana Del Rey, but I can enjoy Taylor Swift.” He teased you, then he finally found what he was looking for. The small old photo albums.
Your body curled up next to him as you pointed out various family members, he listened intently. You thought going through this old trunk was going to be horrible, but with Jinnie, it wasn’t. He asked questions about your family and you happily answered them laughing or with stories that were stored in your memories. You even got reminded of some stuff. If something sparked a story in Jinnie he would tell it to you as well.
                “You’d love my mom.” Jinnie said and giggled at your baby photos.
                “I think my mom would love you, my dad is hard to win over though.”
Jinnie chuckled then looked at you with a serious look, “do you think we will ever see them again? Or even get to meet them?”
                “God, I hope so…” Your voice was quiet. You wanted so badly to introduce Hyunjin to your parents. You know they would love him and be so happy for you. He is everything your parents wanted for you. Respectful, smart, charming, they have always wanted that for you. Now that you have it, you want them so badly to see you this happy. They would be proud of you.
                “I think we will get to meet each other’s families.” Jinnie spoke suddenly. You looked at him.
                “You think?” Now you were fully pulled out of your thoughts.
Jinnie nodded, his hair falling in front of his eyes, which you pushed softly away.
                “I know we will get to. You are my intended after all.”
                                                                                                ~+~
You ended up being right about Mr. W scouting Jinnie for the next exhibit in Paris.
                “Jinnie you have to except it.” You paced back and forth, your feet pittering and pattering on the old wood.
                “Y/n I don’t know. Don’t you think that’ll bring too much attention to me?” You two were currently talking about whether or not he should take it. At this point the semester was nearly over, and that means the Paris trip would be soon. You knelt by him on the couch.
                “You could always do a fake name… Maybe cover your face…” You looked up at him, “Jinnie this is really big for your art.”
He looked conflicted, “if that doesn’t work then what am I going to do? Go back and leave you here? I can’t do that…”
                “You’re worried about having to leave me?” You leaned your head on his knee, he caressed your cheek. His fingers drifted to the necklace he gave you weeks ago. You seemed to only take it off while you bathed. Not that he paid attention to that or anything.
                “Of course, I am, I know I wouldn’t have a choice if I was found out.”
                “Hyunjin…” You stood up and sat next to him, his hair had grown out more and he had the same scared dog look to him again. Just like he did when you first met him.
                “Y/n, I don’t know what I would do, I know I sound crazy and I know it hasn’t been that long, I know I wear my heart on my sleeve and I know I romanticize every little thing, I can’t just- I-“
You put your hand in his, “it’s okay Jinnie. We aren’t at that yet, and that might not even happen.”
He nodded and took a deep breath, “I’ll explain my situation to Mr. W. Tell him my conditions and then we will go from there.”
                Your lips curved into a smile, and you kissed his cheek, “I’m so proud of you, Hyunjin, even if you decide not to go.”
Jinnie looked at you and he looked more relaxed, he squeezed your hand, “I love you so much.”
You had to force your brain to not make your tears flow, “I love you more.”
                “I’ll talk to him tomorrow after class,” he stood up, “I want you to come with me if I go to Paris.”
Jinnie pulled you with him, your body crashed into his and he held you.
                “You do?” Your eyes loved the sight of him.
                “I do.” He lifted both of your hands on his shoulders and put his on your waist, “I know you have work but-“
                “I want to go with you, I want to support you. I’d go anywhere with you.”
Jinnie smiled warmly at you, “I’ll have to hold you to that.”
                “You still have to sing to me.” Your eyes playfully narrowed at him, he huffed and swayed you two.
                “I sing to you all the time, it’s not my fault you’re always already asleep.” He gave you a funny look back. You pretended to be offended.
                “No fair! Sing me to sleep tonight!” You said, he giggled and spun you. You ended up crashing into him.
                “Say please my intended.”
You looked up at him, “please sing me to sleep tonight.”
Jinnie kissed you softly, you kissed him back and whined a bit when he pulled away, “as you wish.”
                                                                                ~+~
The next morning on the walk to school Jinnie really took in his surroundings like it would be the last time to. It really scared you. He wouldn’t get out of bed until you two absolutely had to. He wouldn’t let go of you while you cooked breakfast, and he wanted you to stay in the kitchen when he prepped your guys’ lunch.
                “Jinnie are you okay?” You noticed how he really was looking at the sunrise on the hill. He looked at you and sighed.
                “I’m just preparing for the worst.”
You were worried about him, “Jinnie, I know what I said but if you really don’t want to do this-“
                “My love, I’ve always wanted to have my art in an exhibit, and- and you’re right. I need to at least try. Maybe he won’t even care that I want to go by another name. That’s pretty normal for artists.”
                “That is true…” You nodded and mumbled, “but what if he looks up your legal name?”
                “I don’t think he will.” Jinnie said, “at least I really hope not.”
When you two finally made it to school you noticed how he didn’t let go of your hand. Usually he would, you both decided to only tell Gram about your relationship.
                “It’ll be okay Hyunjin…” You said to him, he nodded and walked into class first, finally letting go. You quickly followed after him. The whole time you could tell he wasn’t paying attention, his leg would bounce, and his brush would shake before it hit the canvas. It really hurt your heart to see him like this. You didn’t know what to do about this. He wanted this but his past life was still holding him hostage. No matter what though, you were determined to be there for him.
Chapter 4: Broken Trust
After class you waited for Jinnie to stop talking to Mr. W, you picked at your fingernails trying to calm yourself down. Seeing how nervous he was made you feel like throwing up. Taking a deep breath, you leaned your head back against the wall.
                “It’ll be okay…” You mumbled to yourself. Your eyes closed and you tried to calm yourself down. Part of you knew Jinnie had to go back at some point, even you had to go back at some point. You just hope that maybe it would be you two together going back and facing what you both left. You should really call your parents soon… Your eyes shot open, and you stood up when the door opened. Jinnie smiled at Mr. W and wished him a good day. Then he turned to you.
                “He is totally okay with it.” Jinnie beamed at you and hugged you tightly, “I really want you to come with me.”
Your giggles started when you felt his hair tickle your face, “I will be there.”
                                                                                                ~+~
                “I want to call my parents.” You said to him a couple days later. He looked up from his plate with wide eyes.
                “Are you sure?” Jinnie asked, his mouth full, eyes still wide.
You swallowed hard and nodded, “I’m sure. I think they need to know that I’m okay, all I left them was a note saying I’d be back soon. I feel guilty about it.”
Jinnie nodded, “do you want me to be next to you when you call?”
                “Please. I know it’s sort of a lot to ask but- “
He grabbed your hand from across the table, “nothing is too much for you to ask of me.”
Your nerves calmed and you nodded, “thank you Jinnie.”
                “You’re most welcome, my intended.”
After dinner you two sat on the floor, your landline phone and your actual cell phone next to each other. The plan was, if the landline didn’t get an answer, then it was a last resort to turn on your old cell phone and call.
                “Are you nervous?” Jinnie asked as he sat cross-legged in front of you. Your shoulders shrugged.
                “What if they get mad at me? What if they hate me for leaving?”
Hyunjin took a deep breath, “did they know what was going on?”
You nodded softly, “my dad even went to the court room, he stayed outside but he knew what was going on.”
                “I don’t think they will be mad.” Hyunjin lightly pushed the phone towards you. You took a deep breath and started to dial. Your hands shook and Hyunjin held your free hand.
                Brrrr brrrr brr- click
                “Hello?” It was your dad’s voice, you felt that feeling in your throat. You were choked up. You froze. Hyunjin mustve sensed this because he tried to get you back to reality asap.
                “Dad?” You said quickly, thankful Hyunjin snapped you out of it.
                “If this is some joke, I don’t think this is very fucking funny.” Your father’s voice was stern, just as you remembered it.
                “No-No it’s me. Y/n L/n, it’s me, your kid, the one who used to eat the dead flies off the bay window.” You spoke quickly, you saw Jinnie give you a funny look. He was trying to not laugh or make fun of you in this moment.
                “Y/N!” Your dad sounded relieved to hear your voice, “I-I’m so glad you’re okay… We didn’t know when you were going to come back, and you never answered any calls.”
                “I know… I’m really sorry, I was stupid and thought everything was going to be safer if I left.” You spoke softly.
Your dad let out a sigh, “Kiddo, your heart was in the right place… Home is safe now, we moved, and the door is always open for you.”
Your eyes started to water, “you guys moved?”
                “Yeah, a couple months after you left, we figured you left because of the situation, some people were saying that he finally- I don’t even want to get into it.” There was a pain in his voice.
                “I’m so sorry. I feel like it was my fault, I still feel like if I didn’t- “
Your dad interrupted you, “Y/n. Nothing was your fault.”
The tears fell and you covered your mouth, choking on a sob, you heard your dad tell you to breathe. Something that when you were a teenager, he had to tell you quite often. You were almost an exact copy of him, he knew how bad it could get. You missed this familiarity.
                “I’m sorry.” You repeated.
                “It’s okay, I promise. I will give you our new address, visit whenever you want. Please call whenever you want. I know you probably don’t want to disclose where you are and that’s okay. I’m just so happy you aren’t dead.”
Your father gave you the new address and you wrote it down. After catching up a bit, the call ended. Jinnie stayed by your side the entire time, he read his book and held your hand. When the call was finished, he softly set the book down.
                “How do you feel?”
You tackled him in a hug on the couch, “I’m so happy Hyunjin!”
                                                                                                ~+~
                “Okay Y/n is everything packed?” Jinnie asked, you nodded. After you called your dad, Jinnie figured going on a nice weekend trip would help with the heaviness of the past couple weeks. He didn’t tell you where you guys were going, but you trusted him with everything.
                “Can you pleaaase tell me?” You asked as you two walked to the town for the millionth time. He started to pack your bags in the rental car.
                “No, it’s a surprise.” He evilly giggled. You whined.
                “Can you give me a hint?” You leaned against the car.
Jinnie looked at you with his hand on his hip, “no.”
                “Have I been there before?”
He rolled his eyes and pecked your lips, “I really hope not.” He closed the trunk and you two started your drive.
                “I haven’t been in a car in forever.” You mumbled looking around the interior. Jinnie laughed a little and kept his eyes on the road.
                “Don’t get carsick, it’s sort of a long ride.”
You hummed and nodded, “Jinnie?”
                “Yes, my intended?”
                “Are you excited for the Paris exhibit?”
Your eyes watched as his toothy grin formed, “yes Y/n I’m ecstatic.”
                “Good!” You smiled, matching his grin.
As the car ride carried on, you started to doze off. Jinnie said it was okay if you fell asleep, so you let yourself doze off. When you woke, you were still driving, so you fell asleep again.
                “I have to get gas; do you have to use the restroom or anything?” He shook you softly awake. You stirred and looked at him sleepily. His smile at you warmed. He looked at you as if you were a warm blanket after a long day outside during the coldest of winters.
                “Mmm I’m hungry…” You mumbled and took off your seatbelt.
                “Okay let me gas up and I will go in with you.”
You nodded and waited for him, after he fed the car, he parked in the lot and opened your door for you. Your hand found his and you two walked to the little convenience store. When your eyes landed on all the snacks and things they practically sparkled. You hadn’t seen stuff like this for years.
                “Jinnie! Look!” You pulled him to the sunglasses. You grabbed a pair and put one on, “do these look nice?”
                “Hmmmm, try these ones.” He said and switched them out. You giggled as he put them on your face, after adjusting them and looking into the mirror you nodded. They were circular and red, very old fashioned.
                “I like these!”
Jinnie helped you to get some snacks and he paid for them, much to your dismay. Before you knew it, you two were on the road again.
                “We are almost there I promise, I know we have been driving for a few hours…” Jinnie mumbled and glanced at you. You sat there munching on some snacks in your new sunglasses.
                “Okay Jinnie.” You smiled and took another bite.
He wasn’t wrong, you two were almost there, at some point when the mountain road cleared your eyes met the blue ocean.
                “Oh my god!” You practically jumped out of your seat.
                “Nice way to kick off the summer?” He asked.
You turned to him, your hair a mess, sunglasses slanted, clothes disheveled, “YES!”
Jinnie smiled and started toward the small home he rented for the weekend. It was a walk from the beach and right when he stopped the car you started running toward the water. You craved the warm sand on your toes and the cold water on your skin. Your feet didn’t stop until you jumped into the water, clothes and all. You saw Jinnie laughing and jogging after you. He always looked like a dream, someone so perfect could only be in your imagination. Yet… Here he was. He wasn’t imaginary, he was just perfect in your eyes.
                “This is amazing!” You laughed and waved your new shades back and forth. Jinnie stood by the water letting it hit his feet. You noticed how he was taking it all in as well.
                “I know we have to take a trip to Paris next week, but I thought that this would be a nice way to relax before things get busy again.”
You jumped out of the water and hugged him, getting him, all soaked from the ocean.
                “Ah!” He jumped and tried to get out of your grip.
                “Jiiiiinnnnie!” You whined and looked up at him, his eyes softened, and he kissed you. Perfect, you caught him off guard and you threw both of your bodies into the water. Just like back at home in the lake, where he kissed you the first time. His laughter rang through your ears, you didn’t think you would ever get tired of hearing his laughter. Jinnie’s crazy, loud, stupid laughter. It could make symphonies jealous.
                                                                                                ~+~
You two laid in bed with the balcony doors open. The moon shone in, illuminated the room in a pale blue. Almost like the room’s saturation was turned down. The ocean waves could be heard, sometimes the breeze would move the curtains. You laid there playing with his hair, you took in every mole and every imperfection. To you though, the imperfections is what made him human. It’s what made him your intended, just as you were his.
                “I need to get it cut before the exhibit.” He mumbled into your arm.
                “My boss at the bookstore used to trim mine.” You whispered. Hyunjin nodded.
He slowly opened his eyes; he was so beautiful inside and out. Yeah, sometimes he was a little odd, memories flashed in your head. Sometimes he would chase the birds on the way home from class, other times you noticed he just wanted to watch movies to cry. Hyunjin was one of a kind in your eyes, he was caring and compassionate. No other person compared to his kindness. No other person compared to his uniqueness in general.
                “Do you know why I call you my intended?” He asked and his hand found its way to your cheek. Your mouth curved slightly.
                “Why is that?”
                “I intend to stay with you. No matter what.” He softly kissed your cheek.
Your breath hitched, “you think I’m worth that?”
                “You’re worth more than anything, that’s why I spoil you so. You deserve it, you deserve everything. I want to be the one to give you that happy ending.” Hyunjin pulled away from you, eyes locking, “you have made this the best few months I have had in a while. You gave me hope that my childish fantasies of love were true. I am so glad I found that my hopes are within you.”
                “I want a happy ending with you.” You breathed, he smiled at you.
                “What kind of ending?”
You leaned on your back now, “I dunno, maybe one where we are all old and sometimes gross,” you heard him laugh before you continued, “maybe have a nicer home somewhere else, one where we own it together.” You turned to him, “maybe even get a dog or cat. No birds though, you’d chase it away.”
You felt his lips on yours, “it sounds perfect.”
                “What about…?” You looked at him.
                “Hmm?” Hyunjin asked, shuffling under the blankets.
                “What about your family?”
Hyunjin’s face fell a bit before going back to a lovestruck look, “I will have to go home at some point, but I will always come back to you. I promise.” He kissed your hand.
                “I love you, Hyunjin.”
                “I love you most, my intended.”
                                                                                ~+~
On the car ride home, you felt yourself getting really carsick, like REALLY carsick. The previous day you two ate at some seafood place and it was not agreeing with your stomach. In the morning you threw up the fish and Jinnie had to watch over you. He made jokes with made you laugh. It wasn’t all bad. You learned that even if he got grossed out, he would still be there.
You two stopped at the gas station once more and this time he bought a matching pair of sunglasses, just to make you smile. Everything felt too good to be true. When you two got home, it felt right to be home with him. Everything felt so perfect with him. He led you to your room and straight to your bathroom. You had to bathe after that long car ride. Jinnie helped you wash up and it was the most vulnerable you have ever been around another human. It opened your world to what you were missing. After what happened you tended to close your world heavily. You didn’t want to love when you didn’t know what love even was. Now you do.
                “My intended, I am going to grab some clean clothes from my house. Lay down here, do you need anything while I am away?” He set you down by the bed, your wet hair soaking the pillow.
                “I’m okay.” You smiled up at him, he looked down at you, eyes full of adoration. Jinnie nodded and headed out of the door. You started to fade in and out of consciousness. The drive and the food poisoning were really hitting you. You were tired, exhausted even.
At some point, you faded awake and you felt Hyunjin lay next to you, he held you tighter than usual. Your neck felt wet, but you just assumed that he showered or something. Your body just turned more into him, you let him hold you. His breathing was staggered and you would have asked if he was okay, if your own body wasn’t on shut down.
                “I love you so much, please know that.”
~*~
The next morning you woke up feeling so much better. The sickness was out of your system, you could hear the birds in the morning. The light shown in your curtains, it felt perfect. You got up thinking Jinnie was making breakfast, skipping in the kitchen you noticed that there was a plate of food. But no Jinnie. Your brows furrowed and you looked at the scene in front of you. The plate of seasoned potatoes and eggs, his sketchbook, and a note.             
                           Y/n, I don’t even know how to start this, I guess I should just explain when I got back to my house to pick up my clothes one of my old friends was there, he started bawling and hugging me when he finally saw me again he started saying how they looked for me everywhere, even though they weren’t technically allowed to, he said that Mr. W ratted me out to JYP. That is the company I am signed to. He ratted me out Y/n, and they came to pick me up. Apparently, I am allowed to work again. They paid Mr. W handsomely to give them My location, and he did.
Your eyes started to well up, you knew he was too good to be true. You took a deep breath and continued to read.
                               I didn’t want to leave; I told my friend I didn’t. But when I was about to walk out toward your house, the rest of my friends were there too. Some of the strongest people I know were crying when they saw me. People who usually don’t hug me, hugged me. I wanted to wake you up. Take you with me, I wanted you to always be in my world. But I was vetoed quickly. I am so sorry that I have to leave like this. When things settle down I promise I will come back for you. I always will. I am leaving you with my sketchbook. I promise Y/n, I promise you my Intended. I will be back. I am so very much in love with you.
-Your Intended forever, Jinnie.
Originally, you felt sad. Now a wave of anger washed over you. You put on your shoes and ran out, it was Monday, you were supposed to leave for France with Jinnie today. That wasn’t going to happen because of someone whom you looked up to. And for what? Money.
Your feet led you to the school, anger was an understatement. You slammed open the school door and stormed into the classroom. Mr. W stood there, looking at you with a shocked expression. He clearly wasn’t expecting you so early.
                “What is wrong with you!?” You yelled.
                “His friends were looking for him Y/n.” Your mentor said simply, “I did the right thing.”
                “You did the right thing for MONEY!” Your voice still raised, “I am going to the exhibit fucking alone, I am taking his work WITH me.” You started grabbing all of Hyunjin’s canvases.
                “Hyunjin was going to go back eventually when he HEALED, you sold him out because of your own selfish wants and needs.” You spoke with a lace of venom in your tone.
Mr. W scoffed, “again Y/n he was going to go back eventually, they needed to know where he was, I just delivered. And how on Earth are you going to do this without me? I taught you everything you know. You are supposed to take my position here.” You did not like when men talked to you like this.
                “I went to the exhibit last year, and I think if I explained how you sold out the artist picked this year, they will fucking understand why you aren’t there to join me. Find another apprentice, I am leaving.”
And that you did, you meant what you said. The driver that was going to take you to Paris showed up, Mr. W didn’t meet you at your home like he was supposed to. He was a rat, a selfish waste of space. The driver helped you with Hyunjin’s work and your own work. You might as well try and turn this situation positive. The whole drive there was awkward.
The whole exhibit felt wrong.
It felt like something was missing.
He was missing.
                                                                                                ~*~
Only one good thing came out of it, people liked yours and his work, many people asked to sell his work to them. You declined but sold all your own work. You sold all your possessions through the bookstore manager back at that small French town. You erased your existence there. You settled down in a small abode in the city. In the heart of Paris, you resided. Mr. W got a bad reputation at that school, the poetry teacher told you. She hunted you down after you left. She would give you updates on what was happening. Until eventually she would stop calling. That was the last connection cut from that little French town.
Slowly, your own art got more recognition. A year had passed, and you got popular in the art scene. You could afford more, as much praise as you were getting, you still felt so very empty. Most nights you found yourself looking up above the mantle, your favorite piece. It was priceless to you, your favorite landscape.
You sat on the couch mentally preparing for your next meeting, it was going to discuss the next exhibit location. Taking a deep breath, you leaned back. You finally made a name for yourself but at what cost. It wasn’t even your fault. The world you learned was littered with selfish people. The more meetings, the more people, the more people, the more your optimistic mindset declined. There was never a day that went by where you didn’t miss Hyunjin immensely. You researched him behind the scenes, you kept an eye on him. When he posted on their Instagram that he purchased one of your works, you bawled for days.
Taking another breath you stood up, he knew where to find you, yet he hasn’t. That isn’t on you. Grabbing your things you headed down to the lobby of your apartment. You sat in a boring meeting until someone rushed in, it wasn’t so mindless anymore.
                “I am so sorry, someone literally stole my bike and I had to rush here.” The man was very tall, hair a mess now. His clothing was impeccable. He had a warm drink in his hand, his glasses almost falling off his nose. He quickly walked to his seat, which was next to you.
When the meeting went on you started to get curious of the man next to you. He was attractive, no lie. Your stubborn heart wasn’t going to pine after him though. When the meeting ended and the location of your exhibit was chosen you quickly walked out.
                “Wait!”
You flipped around and saw the man goofily run up to you, “yes…?”
                “I wanted to introduce myself, I absolutely love your work and it took a lot of digging to even get into that meeting.” He fixed his glasses.
                “Oh.” You said simply. The grown man nodded and stuck his hand out.
                “I am Kim Namjoon.”
You smiled and shook his hand, “Y/n.”
You two started to walk together, “so that’s your real name?” He sparked conversation with your closed off demeaner so easily.
                “Yes, you didn’t think my name was actually ‘intended’ did you?” You asked, adjusting your coat. It was cold in the spring, although summer was coming quickly. You could just tell.
Namjoon let out a laugh, another unique laugh. You felt yourself smile softly to yourself.
                “Well, I wasn’t sure. Sometimes people have distinctive names.” He spoke with a tone that was so interesting to you. This Namjoon was an interesting individual.
                “I think your name is nice, I’ve never heard it before.” You spoke. Your bag swung a bit, you looked up at him. Namjoon’s brows furrowed.
                “You haven’t?” He asked.
                “I mean, it could be familiar, but I don’t know. Should I know it?” Your voice was teasing. The banter made Namjoon smile.
                “Well, I was just. I was just in a music industry so it threw me off slightly.” He said quieting his voice.
                “Oh?” You asked.
                “Yeah, I was in a k-pop group. Sometimes I still make music, but the group is only sometimes now. I don’t mind, the space from all of that lets me enjoy other forms of art.”
Your heart got reminded of what it was stolen of.
                “That’s good that you are growing every day.” You said, your tone was cold. A total 180, Namjoon didn’t seem to notice though. As he walked you to your apartment he asked about your work, about you, he made sure you were comfortable.
You ended up letting him in your apartment.
                “So, you were in a k-pop group?” You were curious, “was the company bad in any way?”
Namjoon’s brows furrowed, confused by your question. Also confused by your sudden interest in that part of his life.
                “Well, when I first started yeah it was rough. But then we just started controlling our own little section of the company. So, I am now in charge of what I do.” He spoke, sipping the tea you made for him.
                “Ah…” You sat down at the table with him, you looked out the window at the city. This window of the house barely showed the Eiffel Tower.
                “You are different then how I expected you to be.” Namjoon spoke. You perked up.
                “What is that supposed to mean?”
He let out a laugh, “its not a bad thing, with how dark your work is, part of me expected a very tortured very damaged person. However, looking at you now, I can still see you have a little spark in your eyes.”
Your eyes softened, you really thought that spark was gone from your soul. But if a complete stranger saw it, maybe the spark wasn’t died out completely.
                “You can?” Your voice softened, you didn’t want to cave so easily. However, you felt your walls starting to crumble. When you moved to Paris and started to get popular you were telling men and women left and right to fuck off if they wanted to court you. It was even worse if they TRIED to court you. But Namjoon, he seemed sincere. Your heart dropped when you saw your piece above the mantle. You caved in on yourself. Namjoon picked up on this.
                “Was that too much? I’m sorry.” He quickly apologized, you rapidly shook your head no.
                “it’s just been a while since I have sat down with someone like this.” You took a sip of your own tea, “it isn’t bad. Its just something different for me.”
Namjoon nodded, “I am in Paris for about a week, I was actually planning on going to your exhibit because either way I wanted to meet you, but I am ranting, anyways, if you would like to do this more, like sit down and talk.”
You looked up at him and smiled, “I would like that.”
                He was a little awkward, but maybe he was charming you slightly.
                                                                                                ~*~
You two ended up exchanging numbers after he had tea with you that one day, a couple days passed and you two decided to go to a local restaurant down the road. He was going to meet you at your apartment, and you would buzz him up. You put on your makeup and got dressed, back in the small town your clothing was lighter colors. Now you noticed it was all black and navy blue. Dark maroons sometimes littered your wardrobe as well. As you got changed you didn’t see the text reading that Namjoon couldn’t make it today. When your door buzzed you let whoever was here, up. When there was a knock at the door you rushed over, your long black dress flowing as much as it could with your long cardigan over it. You slipped your heels on and opened the door.
                “Jinnie- “
Chapter 5: I’m Sorry, I’m Late
“Jinnie-“your voice got caught in your throat. There he was, in front of you. His hair was different, but the curves of his face and his moles were exactly where you remembered him. You tried to draw him many times over the past year; you could never perfect him.
                “I’m sorry, I’m late.” He spoke, his voice was just as you remembered it. God…
In a shock to yourself your face contorted, “late for what Hyunjin.” Your cold voice stunned you.
                “I had a feeling you would be upset with me.” His voice was calm, he looked somewhat different, his hair was blond and long. It was a total 180 from the short choppy dark hair of Jinnie.
                “Can I come in?” he asked softly. You took a deep breath and stepped aside. He walked in, his clothes were different too. More chic, he looked expensive.
You walked over to your phone to see that Namjoon asked to reschedule, what rotten timing.
                “You still have our piece we made together, over the mantel.” He noted. Your heart wanted to be so mad at him. You were livid, he had left for a year, no words, no letters, nothing. Hyunjin just watched you from afar as you did him. It’s not like you had any way to contact him. He could’ve easily contacted you, but he didn’t.
                “Why are you here?” You asked trying to sound stern, it wasn’t real though. When it came to him your heart was on your sleeve. Your cold tortured artist façade now crumbled completely; it always did when your heart missed him.
                “I’m here for your exhibit.” He turned around and looked at you, now leaning on the arm of the couch, “your home is nice.”
                “My exhibit isn’t until a few days.” Your voice once again slightly quivering. You felt your posture stiffen.
                “I know that.” Hyunjin walked toward you, your eyes weren’t on him, but you could hear his shoes. His now expensive, shiny, pointy, stupidly classy shoes.
You finally gained enough courage to look at him, his brown eyes looking straight into you. The rolls were reversed now, your heart was the scared dog.
                “I said I was late because I heard from the grape vine about Namjoon visiting for your exhibit.”
Your eyes widened, how? It was one day…
                “My friend is friends with Namjoon’s friend. He apparently talks nonstop about you and your work. When Chris, my friend, told me, I came here as soon as possible.” He went to grab your hand and you pushed it away.
                “So, you only came here when you found out someone who has an interest in me was now getting to see me?” Obviously, this hurt you. It felt selfish and that wasn’t the Jinnie you knew.
                “Y/n you know I don’t mean it like that…” Hyunjin’s voice was pained. It broke you a little more knowing it was because of your own words. You walked past him, and you heard his footsteps following you. Whipping around you poked his chest.
                “You didn’t even reach out to me! You bought one of my works second hand! You knew exactly where to find me!” Your voice raised, “I waited for you!”
                “I know you did, and I am so sorry, I got caught up in so many schedules. And it was a lot. My parents missed me, and I missed my friends and the next thing I knew- “
                “And then you have the absolute AUDACITY to come to my home when I just started getting over you!” You backed him to the edge of the couch again.
Hyunjin looked at you with wide eyes, then they trailed down to your neck, “are you sure about that?” His voice was just above a whisper. Your brows furrowed and your hand came up to touch what his eyes were glued to.
                It was the necklace he gave you, in your defense you never take it off. It just became apart of you, just like he did.
                “Don’t think I didn’t notice my works wrapped up under the couch either.” He wasn’t walking on eggshells anymore, he was stomping. Your eye twitched.
                “What do you even want to get out of this Hyunjin!?” You didn’t look at him.
You felt his warm hand softly grab yours, he was back on eggshells again, his grip was as if you were blown glass.
                “I want you just as I always have.”
That was it, there was absolutely no getting over him. Any progress you made in the past year was gone. You looked away from him.
                “Please… Look at me…” He was trying not to cry, “say anything please.”
                “Not even a text? Or a letter?” Your voice broke, the floodgates had opened wetting your face.
Hyunjin wiped your tears as quickly as they leaked out of his favorite pair of eyes, “I tried, I didn’t know what to say. I will admit I am being impulsive and stupid. I shouldn’t have dropped everything the second I heard Namjoon was going to be at your meeting.”
Your brows furrowed again, and you looked up at him, “you dropped everything?”
                “Yes, in a heartbeat, the second Chris told me I booked a plane ticket without telling anyone. I was scared and I couldn’t- I couldn’t let you- “
The anger was back, and you pushed his hands off his face, “you couldn’t let me get over you!?” You turned your back to him and hugged yourself.
                “I couldn’t let someone else have you! Y/n, I messed up so badly. I know I did, I hurt you and left you with a stupid note and I didn’t even think about how much it would hurt you in the morning. I was overwhelmed. I should have visited you right when I knew you were here.” Hyunjin was desperately trying to get you to hear him out. Your heart was in a war between loving him and hating him.
Hating him was fueled by how much you were in love with him.
                “You have until my exhibit, to fix this. To prove to me that you won’t just leave again with a stupid note.” You turned around and his eyes filled with hope. The same hope before yours and his relationship was tainted.
You ended up having to let Hyunjin stay in your guest room, he didn’t book any kind of hotel or anything. He truly just bought a ticket to France, to you. The rest of that day was spent with him walking around your home and taking what you presumed to be mental notes.
Your outing with Namjoon was going to get rescheduled at your exhibit. At this point, your childish heart wanted the entire Earth to stop so you wouldn’t have to be with anyone but Hyunjin. But the adult brain in you told you that Hyunjin needed to prove that he wouldn’t just leave again.
~*~
The next morning you woke up and flipped over, totally forgetting yesterday’s events. When you heard music playing from your living room you got scared. You sprung up and rushed in, no one was in the living room. It was BRIGHT too, usually you have the curtains closed.
When you entered the kitchen, there he was. You weren’t dreaming.
                “Oh, did I wake you?” He turned around, his beautiful face more visible to you now. You mentally thanked the headband he had on.
                “No, I just-“ you didn’t know what to say.
                “I opened your curtains in the living room and in here, you have beautiful views of the city.” Hyunjin smiled at you and set a plate down at your small table, meant for two.
                “You made breakfast?” You asked, eyeing the plate. Your eyes then went up to him, he looked tired, he was still in his pajamas. Hyunjin nodded.
         ��      “I am really jetlagged, so it was hard sleeping. I woke up really early and so I made breakfast.” Even through his drowsiness he smiled for you. You mumbled a thank you and sat down. You saw that he made a really good-looking fruit bowl with oatmeal.
                “I have hard boiled eggs in the fridge too. All picked up this morning. I didn’t want to use your food without permission.” He said and set down spoons and forks for you both.
                “You could have… It’s okay…” Your voice was quiet.
                “Do you have any plans today?” Hyunjin asked you. You took a bite of the fruit in the fruit bowl. He even picked the best fruit for you. You shook your head no.
                “Would you want to take a walk with me today? I was thinking about getting ice cream or a genuine French Crepe.” He took a sip of his tea.
                “Aren’t you worried about being recognized with me? Don’t you have fans?” You took a sip of your tea now.
                “Well, don’t you have fans now?” He slyly smiled at you, “I’ve heard some rumors about you.”
You gave him a look, “what do you mean?”
Hyunjin did one of his eye smiles and giggles, “you know at first, I was a little jealous when I heard that everyone in the art scene wanted to court you.” He sipped his tea and wiggled his eyebrows. You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you.
                “Not everyone.” You looked away, “they stopped after a bit.”
Hyunjin set his glass down which got your attention again, “ah of course they did, you gained the reputation of being unobtainable.”
                “Is that what they call me now?” You asked, now taking a spoonful of oatmeal.
                “Maybe, I wouldn’t call you that though.”
                “Confident, are we?” You asked him.
The man in front of you looked at you, a small huff of a laugh coming out of his nose, “maybe.”
~*~
He held the umbrella for you both as you walked down the busy street with him. A scene your heart never thought would come true.
                “Your clothes are darker colors now.” He noted, “they look nice on you.”
You nodded, “thank you, your hair doesn’t look choppy anymore.”
Hyunjin threw his head back and laughed, he almost hit you with the umbrella, “I got scolded and forced to get a haircut, they don’t let me touch it now.”
                “Your work?” You questioned. Hyunjin let out a hum of a yes. You frowned, “doesn’t it bother you…? Being put in a box like that?”
                “Oh, every day, but it’s worth it when I am on stage, dancing, singing, I missed it truly. I got my spark back.” He spoke with stars in his eyes.
                “Well, that’s good then. I am glad your trip helped you appreciate what you have.” You said and pushed your dark sunglasses up again.
                “My return though made me miss dearly what I gained on that trip.” Hyunjin said in a hushed voice, near your ear.
You looked at him, as much as you wanted to fight it, your heart belonged to him. It wasn’t time yet though; your mind was still scared.
                “The café is up there.” Hyunjin broke eye contact with you then led you to the café.
He ended up ordering for you in French, he spoke with confidence. It was a change from the markets in that oh so small town. You both sat outside after he paid.
                “I studied French on my free time when I got back.” Hyunjin spoke and took a bite of his sweet treat.
                “I was wondering how you spoke so confidently.” You sipped your hot coffee; you also picked a strawberry off your plate.
                “It made me think of you.” He spoke and gave you that stupid eye smile. It was almost torture.
You looked away biting back a smile, he was too charming for his own good. The little things he did were too much. It made your heart win the war over your brain.
                “Was the bed warm? In my guest room?” You questioned.
Hyunjin nodded, still smiling at you. He seemed thrilled to just be around you, “mhm!”
                “That’s… That’s actually a relief, I don’t usually have overnight guests.” Your lips curved into a smile. You looked up at him and his head was turned in question.
                “What?” You asked.
                “You don’t have guests?”
You shook your head no, “I don’t have people over like at all. One time my mom visited but that was a few months ago.”
                “You don’t get lonely?”
Your mind filled with memories of you sipping wine by yourself, letting a couple tears slip while the fire was the only thing that warmed your body. Quickly you snapped out of it.
                “No.” Your answer was short, “I did that before didn’t I?” Correction, you did that before you met Hyunjin. Then he opened your world only to leave you on the dark side of the moon.
                “Well, I just thought because your art style changed dramatically. The colors you used were always dark, dark reds, blues, blacks, greys. No more yellow or lavender.” He said simply.
                “Do you study my work?”
Hyunjin smiled again at you, with a knowing look, then he shrugged, “finish your coffee its going to get cold.”
                                                                                                ~*~
The next day he made you breakfast again, this time it was muffins and fruit. He even cut the fruit into little shapes; you know that he specially hand cut each shape due to the fact you didn’t own any kind of food cutters.
                “Good morning!” Hyunjin said cheerfully.
                “Did you rest well?” You asked sitting down, Hyunjin nodded.
                “I slept a lot better than last night; I usually get over jet lag pretty quickly so.” He set your food down and sat down next to you, “I also made peppermint tea this morning.”
                “Thank you…” You felt your face warm and the small butterflies erupted from your chest to your heart.
                “So today, are you busy with anything?” Hyunjin asked, you took a bite of your muffin. It was pumpkin.
                “Did you make these?” You looked at him, it tasted exactly like your pumpkin bread. Hyunjin nodded with a grin.
                “We made it so much that when I had free time, I wrote down the recipe. I used to make it in my dorm whenever I missed you. Let’s just say I gave my friend who actually bakes a run for his money.” He giggled and took a bite of his muffin.
                “That’s… Really sweet of you…” You spoke quietly, you saw Hyunjin smile warmly to himself. Part of you knew he truly does love you as much as you still love him. Your mind was starting to forgive him. Your mind then went to his original question.
                “I only have a small meeting today for the food being served at my exhibit.” You ate some fruit.
                “May I come with you?” Hyunjin asked. Your mind fought it and thought it over. Your heart once again won.
                “I think your insight will help.” Your words came off warm. You saw Hyunjin’s eyes widen a bit at your kind tone, then he smiled.
~*~
Once more he held your umbrella as you two walked, today it was actually raining so you actually needed the covering.
                “I don’t think it will rain the day of your exhibit.” Hyunjin’s feet slapped against the stone streets of Paris.
                “You looked up the weather?” Your eyes looked up at him. Part of him was offended and you can tell.
                “Can you please stop being so surprised that I do the bare minimum?” He looked down at you, he didn’t want to start an argument. As he was a man who preferred to communicate and say his emotions. He could never hold in how he was feeling, and you remembered that. One time you two had a small argument in the small town, he just said how he was feeling.
                “I’m sorry I am just trying to- I don’t even know. You’re right I need to have more faith in you.” You didn’t look at him anymore, “It’s really wrong of me to assume that you are going to do the worse.” You swallowed, you didn’t want to cry. But he was right. Hyunjin sighed and pulled you to the side of the sidewalk, under an awning. The rain was starting to get loud.
                “Y/n you have every right to be cautious of me. I understand what I did and I shouldn’t have just-“
                “Hyunjin…” You looked up at him, “you are right, I need to be more open minded, you were never wrong to me in that small town and you didn’t have a choice to leave. You said so in your note.” You dug through your purse and grabbed your wallet.
                “What’re you…?”
You kept digging until you pulled out his note, the one he left you at your small cottage, “you said yourself you wanted to take me with you, but you were shot down.”
                “You keep it with you…?”
Your eyes looked away from him and to the note that was in your hands, “yes I keep it with me…”
Hyunjin’s hand touched yours and he took a deep breath, “I’m still so sorry.”
                “It’s okay… Again, I know you didn’t have a choice, and I know you were so busy with your life and I started to become busy too and our lives just got so complicated… I need to stop being so cold to you…” Your voice was shaky, and you took a deep breath.”
                “Hey… It’s okay…” Hyunjin’s hand slowly and cautiously went to your cheek. You looked up at him, he smiled at you, “hi.”
Your heart loved the view in front of you and so did your mind, “hi.”
                “Let’s get to the meeting, okay? We don’t want to be late.”
That’s what you two did, you made it in one piece even in the rain. The meeting consisted of different cheese and wine tastings. Hyunjin would giggle at you everytime your face scrunched from the strong wine flavor and you would laugh at him when the cheese he ate tasted bad.
                “You said this one tasted good!” Hyunjin pouted while you were giggling evilly.
                “I thought it tasted great… Maybe your taste buds are broken.” You said smugly.
Hyunjin’s jaw dropped and he looked stunned, “MY taste buds!? You like bad cheese apparently!” He said loudly. You had to quiet him down while laughing. You two got a little tipsy while trying all the wine, you were nowhere near drunk, but you could feel a little buzz. You and Hyunjin were just constantly laughing at everything. In your heart you felt that this was perfect, you could live every day with him if you could. Before you two headed out you both made sure to drink water and have a couple slices of bread. Much to Hyunjin’s excitement.
When you two decided on the little snacks and drinks for your exhibit you two started your walk home, together. The buzz was starting to wear off which was good. Being publicly intoxicated could ruin both your public image, as if being alone together wasn’t enough to stir controversy. That fear wasn’t on either of your minds though, at least not at the moment. You and Hyunjin were both drunk on each other’s company.
                “I cannot believe you made me try that gross cheese!” Hyunjin said as you two walked on the sidewalk. The rain started to clear up, so he didn’t bother opening the umbrella.
                “You tried to get me drunk!” You joked back, Hyunjin dramatically gasped.
                “I would never! You drank the same amount as me!” He placed his hand over his heart. You let out a laugh and through your head back. You missed this so much, you missed him so much. You and Hyunjin exchanged glances at each other as you two walked and talked.
                “You know I wonder how our neighbor is…” You thought to yourself.
                “Gram?” Hyunjin asked and cocked his head to the side.
You nodded and messed with the rings on your fingers, “I still feel guilty for just leaving and selling everything.”
                “I am sure she would understand, maybe we could invite her to your exhibit!” Hyunjin suggested, your eyes lit up.
                “That is such a good idea!” You grinned up at him, Hyunjin gave you a funny but endearing look.
                “I think we should…-“ His voice trailed off and he looked in front of him. Your eyes followed him but before he could figure it out, he pulled you into the alley and started rushing.
                “What is this about?” You felt yourself giggle a little and you let him lead you. You were still in love with him, you couldn’t help it.
                “I think someone recognized one or both of us.” He turned three corners in the small alley and stopped to look around.
                “So, you dragged us into a sketchy ally?” You felt yourself laugh at him, he looked down at you confused and then looked around.
                “I guess I did… I panicked, okay?” You could tell he was a little embarrassed, once again you let a giggle slip out.
                “I just don’t want to have to leave again.” Hyunjin spoke softly, his voice was quiet. Your eyes softened when you looked at him.
                “You think they’d follow you again?” Your curiosity peaked. Hyunjin gave you a look and nodded.
                “Oh yeah, they will follow me to the ends of the Earth. I mean my brothers would, they aren’t actually blood brothers but they are the closest I have to them.” He was rambling, it made you forget you two were in some random alleyway.
                “Will I ever get to meet them?” You looked up at him and leaned against the wall. Hyunjin looked down at you.
                “You want to meet them?”
You nodded, “well of course I would. They’re important to you, are they not?”
                “Yeah… Yeah they are.” Hyunjin’s eyes kept staring into yours. His mind was running a mile a minute. You felt the rain start again, it was only a sprinkle and it felt nice. You looked up still leaning on the wall taking in the nice weather. You could hear Hyunjin breathe through his nose, and you looked up at him again. His brows were furrowed, and he looked frustrated.
                “Are you okay?” You asked, now you were genuinely concerned.
                “Please…” He mumbled, now it was your turn to look confused. The rain started to become heavy again, soaking both of you.
You heard Hyunjin mumble something and then look away.
                “I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you because of the rain.” You spoke.
                “Please let me kiss you again.”
In the middle of the sketchy alleyway, you let him kiss you. The war between your mind and heart was over, they made a truce to love Hyunjin.
And only Hyunjin.
~*~
The next morning you woke up to Hyunjin next to you, he was still sound asleep. Hyunjin looked so peaceful, it was just like when you woke up next to him in that little cottage of yours. Except now you two are older. His face was illuminated by the sun bouncing off your white walls. He was beautiful. You think if you ever spent a year without him again you would be heartbroken forever.
You carefully slipped out of bed, making sure that you wouldn’t wake him. You got up and did your morning routine and called your manager, you had an idea.
                “Hello Miss L/n.” Your manager said cheerfully, “what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice was always so powerful.
                “Do you remember the first exhibit when my work started to become popular?” You asked as you went through the fridge to make pancakes for you and Hyunjin.
                “Ah yes, the one that was meant for Mr. W’s student Sam. But then Sam couldn’t make it?” Your manager always remembered; it was probably because you paid her to do so but still.
                “Yes, that one, I want to put those pieces out again this next exhibit. I have Hyu- Sam, here with me. I would like him to see his work in an exhibit.” You spoke and started to stir the pancake mix.
                “How kind of you Miss L/n.” You heard her type from the other end, “I will add that to your exhibit and the pamphlet. This afternoon I will send someone over to pick up yours and Mr. Sam’s.”
                “Thank you.”
Your manager started typing again and hummed to herself, “alright, they will be there in the afternoon.”
                “Thank you, Mrs. Jean.”
You said your goodbyes and continued to make breakfast, blueberry pancakes and coffee. Smiling to yourself you started to flip the pancakes. You jumped when you felt arms slowly snake around you.
                “Good morning.” Hyunjin mumbled and buried his head in your shoulder.
                “Morning Jinnie.”
Hyunjin giggled and buried his head more in your shoulder, “I missed that.”
You hummed and he didn’t let go of you while you cooked. You moved to the right, Hyunjin moved to the right. You took a step back, Hyunjin took a step back.
                “Breakfast smells great.” Hyunjin was still very sleepy, you could tell.
                “I am glad, I figured I would make up for you making breakfast the past couple days.” You laughed out of your nose.
                “You don’t have to make anything up for me.” He finally let go of you when the food was done and set.
                “Oh, I have someone coming over today to pick up some artwork for the exhibit. Do you mind running errands?” You asked and sipped your hot coffee. You put creamer in it, Hyunjin didn’t put creamer in his. You took note of that.
He pouted, “why can’t I be here?”
You gave him a look, “Can you please just trust me. Pleaaaase.” You pouted back. Hyunjin groaned and took a bite of his pancake, after he drowned it in syrup, of course.
                “Jinni-“
                “Yes. I can run errands, anything for you.”
Your smile widened and you giggled at how much of a lovesick dork he was. It was hypocritical of you to laugh though, you were the same lovesick dork for him. You always were.
~*~
The day of your exhibit rolled around and you woke Hyunjin up.
                “Get up we have to get ready!” You grinned.
                “My ticket isn’t until 6pm.” Hyunjin rolled over again, his beautiful form facing you. You shook him again.
                “Don’t you want to walk into my exhibit holding hands with me?”
You have never in your life seen someone get ready THAT quickly.
                “Blue or black suit?” Hyunjin asked.
You looked up at him. He had light makeup on and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail, he looked divine already. He could show up in his pajamas and he would look so good.
                “Blue, navy blue.” You said and looked back at your vanity, you were deciding how to do your hair and makeup.
                “Is that because you’re wearing navy blue.” He teased. Your face grew hot.
                “Noooo…” You mumbled, he let out a loud obnoxious laugh that you were in love with.
You finished getting ready and you waited for him by the door, adjusting your hat and sunglasses. As much as wearing sunglasses indoors made you kind of look like an asshole, you became known to do so. You started wearing them at your first exhibit, it was so people couldn’t see you crying over Hyunjin and how you wanted him to be there so badly. You took a deep breath, maybe it was time to ditch the sunglasses.
                “You look beautiful.” Hyunjin said from behind you and looked at you in the mirror, “can we take a photo?”
You nodded and looked up at him, he whipped out his phone and took a mirror selfie with you. He took a few photos, one of him kissing the side of your head, one of him holding you, another one of him actually kissing you. He would have memories and photos of you with him.
                “We are going to be late Jinnie.” You laughed. He nodded and you two headed out to the driver.
~*~
When you two arrived early you talked to your manager and introduced her to Hyunjin. She was very excited to meet this other artist. Just like you, she fell in love with his art too. Mrs. Jean was also clearly scouting for another client. It made you smile with pride. You were always so proud of Hyunjin. They ended up talking about art, thank god your manager kept the surprise. She was clearly trying to sell him on becoming a client, part of you hoped so. That meant he would have to come to Paris more. Which means he could see you more.
Time passed and people started showing up to your shared exhibit. When you walked around and people chatted with you, you saw Hyunjin was chatting with a group of men that you recognized as people from his group. He didn’t look tense around them, and it didn’t seem like he was in too much trouble for running away again.
You sipped on your champagne and grabbed a couple of cheese slices from the table.
                “Good evening.” You looked to your side and saw Namjoon. Uh ohhh. You smiled warmly, trying not to panic. You ended up setting your little cheese plate to the side.
                “Oh! Hi Namjoon!” You were really trying not to panic. I mean you guys didn’t even go out, you had tea with him once.
                “Your exhibit is really beautiful! I am excited to go through the rest of it.” He smiled at you.
                “Thank you, Namjoon that means a lot.” You smiled, he smiled back and before you knew it you felt a hand on your waist.
                “Oh my god I know you.” Hyunjin said and put his hand out, Namjoon shook it.
                “You’re an idol too, right?” Namjoon spoke, “part of that group Stray Kids?”
Hyunjin nodded and shook his hand back, “yes, I am Hyunjin.”
                “Ahhhh yes you are talked about a lot, I have heard your name float around before.” Hyunjin shrugged with a sly smile. You could help but roll your eyes at Hyunjin being childish.
Hyunjin and Namjoon talked a little about work before Namjoon excused himself to look at the rest of the exhibit.
                “I have something to show you.” You grabbed Hyunjin’s hand with your free hand. You set your champagne down. Hyunjin smiled at you and nodded. You led him to the part of your exhibit that was dedicated to him. You saw as his eyes widened and he looked at you then back at his artwork. They were still in pristine condition.
                “You didn’t get to see your work in an exhibit, I wanted to make that up to you.” You said quietly. Hyunjin looked at you like you were the world to him. He was at a loss for words.
                “Do you like it?” You asked, scared you overstepped.
                “Y/n… I love it…” He mumbled, still in shock, “I love you so much. I-“
You watched, heart beating out of your chest as he got down on one knee. Your mouth was agape. He pulled out a small box, the ring shining under the exhibit lights.
                “I was planning to do this after the exhibit but my heart is telling me there is no other perfect time for this. I love you, y/n. I will make up for the time lost for the rest of my life with you. I thought about you every day and I will continue to only think of you every day. I want you to be my future, you already are my everything. My intended. Will you please marry me.”
Maybe you should have worn your sunglasses because you were crying over Jinnie again, but not because of sadness.
                “Yes Jinnie!”
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shiro-s2e2-erukinzu · 11 days
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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 96... You have been warned...! 👌
[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]
OMG!! THIS CHAPTER WAS BOTH SO GOOD & SO HILARIOUS!! 😆
This chapter is probably gonna be a new favorite of mine, especially because of that absolutely unexpected thing that happened right before the end of the chapter...!! 😵 So let's talk about it, shall we? 😉
Mission 96 starts back where we basically left of...
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...to see who will get to dance with Damian!!💃
To figure this out, Ewen and Emile come up with some challenges to see who is worthy to dance with their Boss Man!! 😆
The first challenge has to do with endurance so the young ladies have to stand on one leg and clap to the until only remain... And since Twilight's there to help Anya win at cost, of course he has a way cheat!!:
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But then, THIS HAPPENS...!!:
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ANYA ABSOLUTE NUT! 👏🤣👏🤣👏🤣👏🤣
Also... What Twilight said about his arm after Anya's silly antics was ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS TOO!! 😂😂😂
Moving on to the second challenge, the girls must do an obstacle course and who ever are the five fastest will advance to the third and final round!! 👏 A lot of the girls are struggling, but Anya is off to a great start!!
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They had to jump over a hurdle (which Anya fell on her face afterward, but still kept going 😂), get through a trap zone (which Anya ripped her dress and stuck for a bit LOOKING LIKE THIS...!!):
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THIS FACE OF ANYA'S KILLED ME!! 🤣🤣🤣
The final part of the obstacle course was the Inchworm Crawl, AND ANYA GOT THIRD PLACE, so she's still in this!! 👏😆
The third and final challenge was a quiz about Damian, and Twilight thought that he had it in the bag, but...:
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Twilight you silly, silly man...! 😌
Anyway, since this is quiz, of course Anya is gonna use her mind reading abilities to get the right answers...!! Though she almost slips up when she answers a question that probably only Damian, Emile and Ewen know, she makes up for it by missing some questions...!! Anya and one of the other little girls only needed one answer to win, and the question was: Who does Damian love the most?
At first I thought the answer was gonna be Anya, but I'm pretty sure that Ewen and Emile still have no clue that Damian likes her...! 😅 So everyone guessed, but Anya knew what the answer was...:
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MY HEART...!! 💗🥹💗
And so, Anya was victorious and got to dance with Damian!! 🎉
HELL, HENDERSON AND MARTHA EVEN GOT TO DANCE WITH EACH OTHER!! 💗😍💗 (This chapter is GOATED for that as well...!!! 👏😆)
Besides that, though Damian and Anya were having some trouble dancing with each other at first, they started to get hang of if it!! 😁 And then...:
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EXCUSE ME, WHAT!?!?
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Luckily, Damian didn't believe her, but THIS BOMBSHELL may have some ramifications if Damian just casually mentions this to either Melinda, Donovan or someone else dangerous in the future...!! 😱 I am confident that Damian if does eventually believe what Anya told him, he would most definitely keep her secret, but if he doesn't realize it soon, who knows what could happen...!! 😥
And that was Mission 96...
...A FREAKING AMAZING CHAPTER...!!! 👏👏👏
I still can't believe Anya told Damian the truth, though he doesn't believe her yet, it is very possible that he will in future...!! 😊
And to all those that those that thought that Damian would be the first one to know that Anya can read minds, I tip my hat to you guys...!! 👏😄 (Also the damianya shippers are EATING GREAT!! 👏😆👏😆👏😆)
Anyway, I think that's all I wanna say, especially since I know that I'd be here while spouting out theory after theory about what is to come (and wonder if this is gonna lead into Mission 100...!! 🤔) So until next time; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! 💗 LATERS!! 👋😄
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months
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Ari everything you write about Clark is an absolute dream! Thank you so much for sharing!
"What is it with you two, anyway," Clark asked, watching you navigate the downtown traffic at speeds that had him fidgeting with his seat belt.
You shrug carelessly, "When we were kids it was just easy to be friends. We were both too smart for our own good. And after his parents died; well. Shoving Bruce into whatever I was doing got him out of the house. And Jackie was a capable sitter and kept us out of too much trouble. So it gave Alfred a break."
Clark nodded. There was more. Everyone knew that. That had been Bruce's story for years. He'd ALWAYS talked fairly openly about how important you'd been to him. Especially then.About how much Alfred had adored you. Trusted Jackie. What he wanted to know was about Selina. That's what didn't add up. On paper, you and Bruce were a perfect match. The playboy and the Athlete. Young. Beautiful. Driven. Childhood Bestfriends. Beacons of a new and brighter age... If he tried he couldn't dream up a better story. Hell. Papers had been doing it for years. But instead, you were tooling around Metropolis thinking about getting a nice apartment there. And Bruce was still calling your phone and being ignored.
"When we got older of course, Bruce started to make other friends. Upper crusty, fancy friends. And that's where Oliver Queen came in. And about that time Selina was working her way in." You snort. Ollie, Bruce and I tended to make just enough trouble to be Salacious but not dangerous. To make a headline or two. Feed the Paparazzi. Get a little rambunctious. And between their money and my dimples we could get away with anything short of a felony."
"I believe it," Clark huffed. He'd been the victim of your pouting too many times to believe it had much to do with the money. You were too cute and too sweet looking when you looked up at him all doe-eyed and "Please, honey?" It was dangerous. He rolled over every time. And you knew he was gonna. Thankfully, you didn't exploit it for much more than getting him to carry you to bed. Or convincing him to clean your car off in the morning when it was frosty.
"And With Bruce being an awkward aloof little weirdo before he figured out how to act like a whore, it wasn't a bad thing having a couple pretty girls just in rotation. We laughed at his jokes. We teased him and made him blush- we made him human instead of an oddity."
"Until?"
"Until," you sigh, "Selina wanted him to herself and made it a competition. She wanted what I had with Bruce but she didn't understand what that WAS."
"Not romantic?"
"God no," you scoff, "At least not on my end. It's hard to want to kiss someone when you spend most of the time you talk to them wanting to choke them."
"Fair," Clark chuckled, refraining from pointing out that you liked that sometimes.
"I love Bruce. Dearly. But I'm not in love with him. I just- sometimes I feel more like I'm a security blanket to him than a person. Selina is a person. She gets to be complicated. She gets to be messy. She gets to fuck up. And I get to be there to put him back together."
"That doesn't seem fair," Clark said frowning.
"Life's not fair."
"Even after Jackie-" Clark broke off, biting his tongue. It was a sore subject. Painful. And he heard your heart stutter just at the thought. The sharp exhale, like it was still a gut punch made his own stomach clench.
"He wasn't there," you say simply. "He was training. He didn't even know- Alfred tried but. It's not like anyone could just call him. No one knew where he was. He just came back twice as ripped and twice as angry."
"And you were alone?" Clark said incredulously, "That whole time?"
"Alfred was there," you remind him. "And I did- do have other friends I just- it was hard."
"I know you told me to stay out of it, baby," Clark grumbled, "but Bruce really deserves-"
"What good would it do?" you challenge, "aside from make it harder for you to work with him later? I'm a big girl. I can handle it. And I will. In my own time."
"Alright," Clark said, claiming the hand that wasn't on the steering wheel and kissing it softly. "But. I'm gonna step in if I feel like he crosses a line."
"Which line?"
"One I really don't like."
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medakakurokami · 9 months
Text
I finished over 100 visual novels, here’s a long post with some recommendations
Last month I hit 100 Finished VN’s over on the VNDB and I thought I’d shoot out some recommendations while the Steam Summer Sale is going on (even though some of these aren’t going to be on Steam)
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I already have finished up some stragglers and caught some shorter titles so it’s up to 104 Finished, but all the better. I have been reading some VN’s since 2015, but it really became a hobby and a genre I was invested in during Covid lockdown in 2020. I had trouble getting into some of the popular titles, but a couple of games that were lesser known at that time really blew me away that year and I started digging more into the medium. I still have a lot to try out and other classics I’m still interested in trying, but here’s a top 10 I’m confident in recommending to most people, at least the kinda people that would follow this blog. A few of these recommendations are actually multi-part series, but hopefully accessible all around.
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Planetarian ($10 on Steam and Switch, ~$5 on sale)
This is a very late entry onto this list but I think it’s an easy recommendation. This is a very short 2-4 hour visual novel that got a well received 2 hour movie adaptation in 2016, but it was strong enough that even while knowing the plot everything still hit hard. It is a story set 30 years after an apocalyptic event destroys most of the world, as a human junk-trader comes across a planetarium with a somehow-still-functional robot named Hoshino still performing her daily duties after 30 years without customers or coworkers. It can come across as a bit saccharine, but it is a quick, well made, and effective tearjerker.
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Narcissu 1st & 2nd (Free on Steam)
Narcissu’s first two parts are pretty compelling stories to do with suicidal ideation within the scope of the terminally ill. Which is to say they’re also real tear jerkers, and pretty open about some harsh self-reflective emotions. They both have stellar endings, and can be quite immersive despite the very limited artwork (if the screencap looks weird, the game’s art exists within a narrow strip on the screen, with a sentence or two reading out the story underneath it). Maybe the least accessible on this list, but a $0 price tag makes it easier in some sense to get into.
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Umineko no Naku Koro ni / When The Seagulls Cry (~$50 on Steam, $30 on sale)
Umineko you’ve probably already heard of, and here’s me recommending it. Umineko comes in two parts, on Steam referred to as the Questions Arc and the Answers Arc. Despite the split, the overall story follows the events of a certain day on Rokkenjima Island in 1986 as a family meets to discuss their inheritance and their family’s mysteries. Unbeknownst to them they are soon haunted, over and over again, by the revenant of the Golden Witch said to live in the woods of their family’s island.
I’m in the minority of preferring the Questions Arc, where well written and deeply human characters find themselves in deeply inhumane and nonsensical scenarios. The Answers Arc back seats some of that to start delving into an esoteric explosion of clues and backstories, and was still very entertaining even if I was more invested in the episodic stories than the overarching mystery. This may also be seen as inaccessible, $30-50 for a slightly older title and over 140 hours long on average playthroughs, but it is deeply absorbing.
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Witch on the Holy Night a.k.a. Mahoyo ($40 on PS4 and Switch)
Mahoyo is me and Nasu’s marriage counselor, it really made me see the good in him. It follows a young witch co-habitating with her magic colleague and the puppy-like boy that unwittingly steps into their world at risk to his own life, just as unexplained apparent murders are witnessed in their town.
This could possibly be a higher level recommendation, though it was apparently intended to have sequels and you can somewhat feel that in the isolated feeling of its main conflict. Despite this, the game is definitely worth experiencing for its classy charm and extremely well made action sequences that at times make you forget you’re not watching a full anime film. It’s also a showcase of Nasu’s strengths in writing character interactions and comedy, and he finally lets Show take over and stops Telling you piles of mage society worldbuilding quite so often. It is also has some of the highest quality production value I’ve ever seen, second maybe to...
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Marco and the Galaxy Dragon ($20 on Steam/Switch, less than $10 on sale)
Marco and the Galaxy Dragon is an explosive opera of art, energy, color, and of course music. It follows the orphaned Marco and her dragon compatriot Arco as they hunt for treasure across the cosmos, finding their way to Earth on the hunt for Marco’s mother.
If Umineko’s 140 hours seems steep, Marco has you covered with a quick 6 hour rundown of a rebellious orphan fighting back against her space alien menace to find her own sense of place and identity in the universe, along with ALL the friends she made along the way. If Mahoyo feels like an anime film sometimes, Marco actually just has fully animated FMV cutscenes that are fun as hell and have their own unique artstyle to the VN itself. Thousands of pieces of artwork and a 52-track OST fill the game’s short runtime with no cut corners and and overflow of passion from the devs. Honestly even if you don’t want to read it go buy it, it’s cheap and they earned it.
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White Album 2 (You’ll have to be creative to find this one)
This is the only recommendation that’s currently only available in an adults only 18+ Rating for the English translation. That being said, it’s one of the few erotic VN’s that felt justified in its pornographic scenes. The story is split into two releases: Opening Chapter and Closing Chapter.
Opening is a short and powerfully delivered love triangle narrative following Haruki, Setsuna, and Touma as their hastily formed 3-man light music band falls into itself with feelings. It’s charming but gut wrenching and sweeps you into its drama very effectively before kicking you on your ass in the end.
Closing Chapter is a long and drawn out disassembling of their lives as they fail to heal from the wounds of the relationships seen in Opening. It, to great effect, takes the readers own experience with how fun and passionate the Opening Chapter was, and shows how trying to cling to halcyon days can make us so dispassionate about our present lives. Painful stuff! Good music, too.
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The Princess, The Stray Cat, and Matters of the Heart 1 & 2
a.k.a. Noratoto ($40 on Steam for both, ~$15 for both on sale)
This is a very personal recommendation, and maybe one more easy to make on this blog where many of my followers might be receptive to sincere but slapstick ecchi comedy as art. Every route is highly different however and to me, some are pretty average for galge, while others stand out as amazing. The comedy writing as well feels like it was written by someone with actual comic writing experience, and not just regurgitating the usual ecchi manga jokes.
The general premise of Noratoto is the protagonist Nora, being transformed into a cat by Patricia the princess of the Netherworld, and he must reverse this curse via a kiss before it becomes permanent. A benign fairy tale premise, but one that somehow gives way to underlying stories about existence and finding purpose in families and where that leaves those without families or with abusive or divided families (it is from the same developers as Marco and the Galaxy Dragon, and the themes of finding identity without family match up very closely). Uniquely it is a visual novel written somewhat in 3rd person, narrated by a motherly voice as if the VN was being read to you as a bedtime story.
Like I said, it is dependent on route and some come across as your usual ecchi gal-game schtick, but some stick out, and if every route was as high quality as Nobuchina’s in the 2nd game, it would probably be my favorite visual novel.
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The Original Ace Attorney Trilogy ($30 on most platforms, $10 on sale)
You’ve almost certainly heard of Ace Attorney already and have most likely played it. This is me telling any Ace Attorney fans reading that the original trilogy still reigns supreme (regardless of Turnabout Big Top). This is also me telling anyone who has held out on trying Ace Attorney to try it, and to start with the original trilogy.
Obviously this trilogy follows the Meme Man Himself, Phoenix Wright, as he defends the innocent and brings the guilty to justice acting as both lawyer and his own main investigator. While each case presents a unique mystery, the original trilogy has an underlying arc that reaches from beginning to end with a massive conspiracy that Phoenix has to breach to bring justice to the perpetrators and resolve the memory and regrets of his beloved mentor.
These games have some speedbumps as you may be banging your head against the wall trying to find the right evidence, but the experience that breaks through does so with gusto, succeeding on what it sets out to be: games that make you feel like you’ve brought justice to the world.
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Utawarerumono Trilogy ($40/60 each on Steam, trilogy bundle $62 on sale)
Utawarerumono was my first proper visual novel, and it set the standards pretty high. I’ve posted about it several times in the last few years, and it remains one of my favorites. It is a labor of love on the part of the developers (the same developers as White Album 2), who developed the latter two games over the course of several years and have made this the spearhead of their company for the time being. Which makes sense, since it is about war.
The first game follows a masked man who is given the name Hakuoro waking up in a rural village with amnesia, confused about the strange population of beast-men living there. Despite not understanding his situation, his ingenuity brings the village prosperity. When the local lords try to put the village under their thumb, Hakuoro and the villagers are able to turn the tides against them. Their village grows into a kingdom as Hakuoro seeks the mysteries of himself and the world around him.
The latter two games pick up some twenty years after the conclusion of the first, and follow a man who is given the name Haku, waking up in the woods with amnesia confused about the... you get it. He is met by Kuon, a young girl on her way traveling to the capital of their nation of Yamato. Haku graciously accepts her help getting out of the cold woods, and decides to join her to the capital. As events play out, Haku finds himself under the direct command of the nation’s leader the Mikado, and carries out missions on his behalf as the nation continues to drag itself into war and conflict and Haku also seeks the truth of his identity.
These games are expansive in scope while still putting a large focus on the day-to-day lives of its characters. Around 100 hours across all three games it is impressive how much story it manages to fit in, but the pacing does bounce around between sweeping conflict and sleepy conversations. It is also in part, a strategy RPG game with the battles in the war being controlled by the player. These are decently made, especially well in the third game, but don’t ask too much of the player and the story remains the main focus and biggest portion of the runtime.
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The House In Fata Morgana a.k.a. Fatamoru
($40 complete version on PS4/Switch, ~$40 main game + expansion on Steam)
I’ve gushed about this enough on this tumblr, I’ll keep it brief.
You are a formless soul who is led by the hand of a mysterious maid through the doors of a mansion on an unknown plane of existence. Through each door lies a story of the house in a different era, all following people bound together in ways that leave them cruelly and violently undone by the end of their stories. The connection between these stories, the mystery of the house and the supposed witch that resides within, and the mystery of You the wandering soul all slowly unravel in a bloody show of catharsis and soul. The game is dripping with traumatic poetic text, grating beautiful music, and all of its atmosphere geared toward being oppressive yet enticing. One of the best things I’ve read.
Honorable mentions:
Va-11 Hall-A and Endless Mondays get shout outs as some of the best Original English Language VN’s I’ve read, with cool artstyles and a mature cast they manage to be fun and relatable. Va-11 Hall-A delivers a great arc for its protagonist and Endless Mondays has great dialogue on the threat of automation of creative industries.
Grisaia Trilogy and Hatsumira are both absolutely raucous trilogies that are a lot of fun. Not wholly recommendable to all, Grisaia has some strong moments and a hilarious unique cast but is a mess overall (but we love Michiru). Hatsumira is a bit more consistent, a more stable and fantasy-oriented Grisaia.
A.I. The Somnium Files duology are detective games with highly divisive endings, but great comedy and characters that make them very easy to get through and enjoy the whole way to the end. It’s just a toss-up whether you’ll like that ending.
Sakura Wars games are finally being translated, and they are a great showing for anyone who wants to try some classic dating sim stuff but with some pizazz thrown in with the setting and mecha combat.
The Tears to Tiara duology by the same developers of Utawarerumono and White Album is also one to keep an eye out for. The first game's definitive version isn't available in English and the second game is stuck on the PS3 and no longer available digitally, but if they ever come out on Steam they are worth your time.
Nanairo Reincarnation and Kinkoi: Golden Loveriche are also two solid ecchi comedy galge. Both have surprisingly deep and genuinely heartbreaking underlying mysteries and conclusions.
I still have a lot I wanna read, Planetarian is the only Key novel I’ve read. On the docket are Labyrinth of Galleria, Little Busters, the 9 -nine- series, and Kara no Shoujo and White Album 1 releasing on Steam this year. Some classics I didn’t mention are Fate/Stay Night, Muv Luv, Steins Gate. Muv Luv I read Extra and enjoyed it, but never pulled the trigger on reading the rest, I may at some point on a whim. Steins;Gate I played through half of on PS3 and now my PS3 is in the closet, the VN is really good and has a unique atmosphere to the anime, buuuuuuut knowing the plot has made it hard to want to restart on PC or another console. Steins;Gate is good, if anyone is reading this far and hasn’t seen the anime or read the VN, do it.
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theblue6ook · 27 days
Text
The Young Years PT 3
Summary: This is a prequel to "Shit Interview" in the "Out of My League" series. Read about Bruce and Y/N in their troubled teens. What about their past makes them work so well together? You'll find out. (Hint: they've both been through major struggles.)
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader
a/n: Death and blood. Also, Bruce is all the drama. [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]
Caught [B(19) Y/N(17)]
First, it was selling illegal car parts. Then, it was modifying cars illegally. Then, it was racing. Y/N didn't have to worry about money anymore, but she still kept appearances up at Dorthie’s Flowers with Carrie; she didn’t want to look suspicious. The house was paid off, the utilities were paid, and she started saving money for her brothers' school funds. She was set, and even better, she was a winner.
Ronnie taught her how to properly drive at 13. The lot for the mechanic shop was pretty big, and honestly, there were barely any cops in this part of town. The only rule was don’t go past the narrows. Once she hit 14, she was starting to get good. After modifying cars, she’d head out and watch the races, watch the different moves people made with their cars, recreate them on cars they were working on, and if they got fucked up, she’d fix them before anyone knew. 
By 15, she was in races. By 16, she was coming in second. By 17, she was dominating. The money she had saved was insane, but there was one problem. The races were moving out of the narrows, and the cops were cracking down, particularly Don Colley and his partner Jim Gordon. All she had to do was keep her head down. She should have stopped. She had money saved, but the rush was so addicting, and the money was so rewarding. In her eyes, as long as no one knew who she was, what was the damage?
Getting caught. Getting caught was the damage. 
The last race she was in was over by Gotham Harbor. She was in first, per usual, when the police swarmed. She was on her way out, swearing and huffing, when one of the drivers, trying to make a break for it, spun out and crashed. She didn’t even think. She stopped the car and ran out to help, but it was too late. It was a horrid scene. The airbags didn’t go off, and his car had smashed him into the steering wheel. His chest was caved in, and there was so much blood everywhere. It smelled like gasoline and death. There was no mistaking it, the driver that passed was David Colley, the Comminsioner’s son, and oh did he blame Y/N. She was caught on the scene and the only one he had to blame. Boy, did he fight hard when she went to court, lucky for her, Jim Gordan saw right through it, and so did the judge…
“You were a part of the Martha Wayne Foundation?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“You say you were doing this to provide a good home for your brothers after your mother left? Help your father pay the bills?” 
“Yes, your honor.” Y/N felt the sweat on her temple, and her heart was beating so quickly. She felt fucked. She felt like she ruined her life, but the judge only hummed and thought quietly. There was a pregnant pause before he spoke, and the entire courtroom was on the edge of their seats.
“Despite having the wrong motivation, I think you have a good head on your shoulders. You’re young,” he continued, “I don’t want you to throw your life away in jail. So, here’s what I’m going to do. Not only will you return the money won to the court, but you will also complete six months of community service. Pay two fines, each $1000. One for the drag racing conviction and the other for the illegal gambling. Is that clear?”
It didn’t go over well with Don Colley. He ended up stepping down from the position of commissioner as Jim Gordon stepped up…it didn’t go well with her father either.
“What are you doing with your life?!” he covered his face with his hands. “You know what, it might have been easier if you were in jail and not wasting my money, my time-”
“Your money?!” Y/N interrupted. “Who’s been running your business? Who’s been providing? You haven’t even stepped out of the house in years!”
“Will you shut up! Do you not understand you are ruining your life-”
“Oh, so now you want to be a parent?” Y/N was up in arms. After years of picking up after him, providing, and putting food on the table, this is what she gets?
"You know what, go fuck yourself. You don't want me as your parent? You can get the FUCK out of my house!"
“The house I paid for? The house I clean and cook in and drag your ass into when it’s snowing. That house!?” she shouted until her throat hurt. Maybe she shouldn't have, she knew she fucked up, but she was so tired. So tired of taking care of other people. Every sentence she punctuated with a step closer to him until she was up in his face. 
"You're unstable. You're not good for me. You’re not good for the boys. You need to leave," he looked into her eyes. 
"I may be unstable, but you've always been a shit father." That seemed to be the last straw.
“GET OUT!” he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her out the screen door. He had never in her 17 years ever put his hands on her. He had always been silently grateful. Silently watching as she keeps the house running. He had never shoved her the way he did now. 
“What the fuck-” she said, stumbling down to the ground.
“You don’t live here anymore. Tell Carrie to pick up your things.” He went to step inside but paused, looking over his shoulder. "You can't live here until you get your act together, and I can't live with you until I get my act together."
Her father stepped inside. She heard her brothers through the door asking what was happening and where she was. Y/N sat out on the concrete steps and said nothing. Was there anything to say? Slowly, she stood and made her way down the block.
-
Bruce wasn’t sure what to consider his position here. Was he a prisoner? Would they let him leave when the time came? At least they were training him. They’ve been training him for the past two years. 
It wasn’t hard for him to leave Gotham. When he was fifteen, he received his diploma. He had skipped enough grades to get it and had enough credits through online courses. That was the deal with Alfred. You can go and travel, but you’re going to be officially educated. He traveled with Alfred for some time. Moving to different places, training with different people, learning different languages. Then, things went sideways. He was recognized. He was robbed. He could defend himself at this point, but not from twenty people. That’s ridiculous. In the end, he ended up in a Bhutanese Prison. This is where he met Ras Al Ghul. A strange man who had broken him out of prison and asked him what his plans were. Bruce didn’t really have a choice, so he told him. Now he was here, but honestly, where was he? He had no clue.
He had learned so much. He would continue to learn so much. He would solve his parents' murder, and he would solve Gotham. That was the plan. If he can survive here, he can survive anywhere.
He looked up at the ceiling of his bunk. He was bunked with many other soldiers and assassins; he wasn’t sure who they were. He had thought about Alfred. What he might be doing? What he did do after Bruce had been taken? The door to his bunk had opened, and there was the strange man who had found him.
“It is time,” he said. Bruce stood and followed him out to the training grounds. He sparred with different soldiers, at some points, several at a time. Another trainee was sparring as well. Eventually, they were tasked with sparring with each other. Bruce moved flawlessly, and his master smiled. He fought easily and used his opponent's faults against him until he had him on the ground.
“That’s good,” he grinned. “Now kill him.”
Bruce’s blood went cold. He looked over at the man, startled. “I can’t - I can’t kill him. He did nothing wrong. We were just training.” 
“Training is to prepare you for real-life situations. You may have to kill someone, so it’s best to do it now. Kill him.” 
Bruce held his breath, and his sword rose to strike. Training. That’s what it was. If I want to clean up Gotham, there has to be sacrifice. I have to do this- 
You really think this is what your father would have wanted? You going to prison for the rest of your life? To kill someone? 
The sword came down hard and swiftly, puncturing the ground. His master turned toward him, angry. He grabbed Bruce by the shoulder, shoving him to the ground as he dug his own sword into the struggling trainee on the ground. “Is this what you’re so afraid of? Death. These are the necessary sacrifices we must make for the good of the world.”
Red stained the snow around them, and the smell of blood lingered in the air.
“Well, that’s not the way I’m going to do it,” he stood stubbornly. 
“How do you expect order? How do you expect to deal with the chaos?” 
“Fear.”
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blues824 · 7 months
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Oooh, how about Jack x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader where she meets him in the woods surrounding Ramshackle on her way to deliver baked goods to Ace and Deuce who are sick, please?
Female reader, not Yuu! You are in the Pomefiore dorm because I said so.
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Jack Howl
Once you heard that the idiots were sick after being kicked out of Heartslabyul once again in the rain, you knew that you had to make them a warm meal. With permission from Vil, you whipped a few things up in the kitchen and you texted Yuu about you going to Ramshackle before you set off to deliver the goods.
It wouldn’t be that long of a journey, but you decided that since it was a bit chilly outside, you would bring your red cape that your grandmother had made for you when you were a young girl. You threw it on, grabbed your basket, bid your dorm-members farewell, and then you set out to Ramshackle, where Ace and Deuce were. Yuu really was too kind for their own good.
The only thing that you hadn’t considered was you hadn’t been to the dilapidated dormitory on your own. Usually, Trappola would lead you, and you wouldn’t be paying attention. So, as a result, once you went through the mirror, you ended up getting lost. You decided to stick to the path within the woods, but you had to admit that you had no idea where you were. Worst part was that there was no reception.
Your imagination started to run wild, and the dark forest was starting to creep you out. You were alone, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like there was someone in the trees, watching you. Every noise you heard made you jump. You were cursing as you stepped on a branch on the path, and you whipped your head in every direction. The branches looked like they were reaching out to you, the pattern of the bark of the trees looking like malevolent faces. 
Maybe, the worst part about this was being alone and that you were conjuring all of this up. Your grandmother created your red cape so as to protect you from harm, so you had nothing to worry about. The fabric was imbued with a protective charm, and your family swears by it. To be fair, you weren’t dead yet so it must account for something… right?
Suddenly, you heard footsteps behind you. You had your hand on your pen, ready to draw and use your magic, when you turned around. Turns out, it was one of your classmates, Jack Howl. You let out a huge breath of relief before laughing at your ridiculously overactive imagination. To be fair, you didn’t know him very well, so your guard was still up.
“Oh, I didn’t expect you to be here, Howl!”
“I didn’t expect you to be here either, L/N.”
“Are you going to Ramshackle to visit Ace and Deuce as well?”
“Yeah. I can’t believe those idiots managed to get sick. What do you think they got in trouble for?” You both started walking down the path, side-by-side. It did not escape either of you that this was the longest conversation you ever had with each other, but neither of you thought it valuable to mention.
“I’m pretty sure Deuce was dragged into it, but Ace probably stole a tart. Either that, or they failed Professor Crewel’s test.” The exam was incredibly difficult, but you didn’t have the opportunity to offer tutoring. You were the top of the class, mostly due to being under Vil Schoenheit’s tutelage, with Jack being above average in that class. You’ve noticed him sitting across from you, and you admired how focused he looked in class.
What could you say? He was hot, and you just so happened to notice!
“What’s that smell? It smells… nice?” You were confused as to what the wolf-man was inquiring about, until you remembered the baked goods that were in your basket as well as the containers of soup.
“They’re treats that I baked for Ace and Deuce! I felt bad when I heard they got sick, so I decided to bring them something to make sure that they get better!”
You were so cute, was what Jack thought once you said that. He also noticed you in class, and he knew that you were clever and incredibly smart, and you looked absolutely beautiful with your red cape. And apparently you made really good food because the smell of the treats within your basket could have made him drool. It smelled absolutely delicious.
It was unfortunate that he hadn’t talked to you much before, but to be fair your paths don't cross too often. You both were kept busy with your Housewardens as well as your classes and extracurricular clubs. Plus, Jack thinks that any free moment could be spent productively, and you seemed to use that philosophy as well. Even if you don’t, neither of you go out of your way to speak to each other.
Well, no time like the present.
“So…” You both spoke at the same time, making you giggle. Hearing the angelic sound made the wolf’s ears perk up and his tail wag, subconsciously happy that he made you smile. It took all of his willpower to get it to stop, but you noticed and thought it was absolutely adorable. You decided not to mention that either.
“You go first,” he quietly offered.
“Why, thank you! Anyways, I thought I was lost until you got here. If you could, would you please show me which way is the correct way to go?”
“It’s down this path. Would you like me to carry your basket for you?”
“I’m fine!” Again, you didn’t know him very well. From what Yuu had told you, he did help with sabotaging Savanaclaw’s plans to cheat, as well as assisting with both Leona’s and Azul’s overblots. Your instincts told you that you could trust him, but you didn’t want to take any chances. It wasn’t the first time where your instincts told you that a wolf was trustworthy.
This little adventure of yours actually caused you and Jack to get closer to each other, sparking a wonderful friendship, and eventually a relationship.
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