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Best Student Credit Cards In Australia 2024
University is an exciting adventure, but it can also be a financial tightrope walk. Between textbooks, rent, study supplies, and that epic weekend trip to Byron Bay, managing your cash flow can feel like an impossible feat. Enter the world of Student Credit Cards! This handy guide dives deep into everything you need to know about these cards, from navigating the application process to using themâŠ
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THE GLAMOROUS
LIFE
boys with small talk and small minds
really don't impress me in bed
she said, "i need a man's man, baby"
diamonds and furs
love would only conquer my head
pairing: nicholas chavez x black!fem!reader
also starring: cooper koch and normani as valerie
read: part two
summary: itâs the year 1987. you and your best friend, valerie, are rising college graduates and are part of one of the most affluent african american families of the decade. yachts, designer fashion, handsome yuppies, diamonds, and grand soirĂ©es all sound like a ball, but to you, itâs so predictable. especially when it comes to dating. your not-so-friendly personality underneath all of that designer tends to be men repellent, until this one double date valerie sets up with a renowned tennis player and promising law student shifts your entire perspective.
inspo: fresh prince of bel-air, 1x19. cred to @fear-is-truth for the idea of an 80s au.
contains: lots of words, eighties au, reader is a bit toxic, yuppie culture, swearing, rudeness, alcohol consumption, arguing, nicholas gets reader together, enemies to lovers, fluff.
tags: @sabrinasopposite @supaprettyg @camiesully @zombigrlll @ellethespaceunicorn @rosiestalez @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl
âvalerie, for the love of god, donât make me go on this date. i swear on daddyâs credit card that i can get you backstage passes for the bad tour. hell, iâll even let you get with michael if it would change your mind. just please donât make go on this double date.â
you groan and plead while watching your best friend since birth, valerie hill, primp herself at her pristine, white vanity for a night on the town. she had a date with this tennis player named, cooper koch. apparently he was so talented in the sport, that he was well on his way to the olympics within the next year. valerie mentioned that he was bringing his friend, nicholas. she didnât really ask about him, what he did, nor if you were down for the double date, so you were practically forced into this. you both were the heiresses of the richest black families in the nation, so going out on dates to the most exclusive and expensive restaurants with the richest bachelors were the norm for you both. for you, the norm was getting so damn predictable. all of the guys youâve dated in the past only care about two things: getting paid and getting laid. it was enjoyable at first, but as you grew older, you realized that life shouldnât just be about drugs, money, and sex. it should have some sort of substance, some depth, some purpose. these guys never challenged you. they talk a big game with their cars and lavish spending, but itâs all a load of materialistic bullshit. each time you give them a chance, itâs like you want to put a combination lock on your pussy and forget the numbers. thatâs the energy you give out: cold, distant, snarky, rude, anything to get these yuppie ass wannabeâs out of your face.
but here you were, already showered and clad in a cream satin robe with curlers in your hair. valerie was the popular one out of you both. besides studying to take over the family business, she was a model. her face would be on commercials, billboards, and magazines. itâs no wonder why she had a line of men begging to breathe the same oxygen as her. you were studying business as well and in your free time, you would compose new masterpieces on the grand piano you were gifted when you were fifteen after perfecting the instrument since kindergarten. even with the pressure of performances, recitals, and competitions, you grew to love writing a new piece in different styles. your idols consisted of stevie wonder and quincy jones. your parents never really knew, but you were so lucky to have valerie be a support system for your passion.
your inner turmoil was interrupted at the ring of valerieâs telephone to which she picked up and answered with the customary âhelloâ. your brown eyes peer at her figure as your ears tune into the conversation sheâs having.
âhello?⊠oh, hey, cooper!âŠuh-huh. yeah, i canât wait eitherâŠoh, is he? well, sheâs definitely looking forward to meeting him.â valerie pauses to cut her eyes at you, in which you respond with the rolling of your own.
âokayâŠyes, three eighty five willard lane is correct. iâve already told the guard at the gate your names, so just give it to him and you should be good to go. thirty minutes? okayâŠsee you then! ciao for now!â valerie blows a kiss to the receiver with a smile on her made up face and hangs the phone up. she turns to you with those alluring deep, brown eyes thatâs captivated so many hearts. with a huff of her breath, she stands up from the vanity stool and saunters over to you, donning a long hot pink sleeveless evening dress that hugged her body just right. it was cut low with diamond straps paired with matching pink opera gloves and an assortment of genuine diamond jewelry that was adorned on her ears, fingers, neck, and wrists. you feel her palms on your shoulders and she gives you a knowing glance.
âi know that youâve been burned before, but for some odd reason, i got a feeling down in my gut that this guy is exactly what youâve been looking for. if heâs not what you expect within an hour, we can go home.â
âno bullshit?â you questioned with an arched brow.
âno bullshit, but please try not to have that stank ass attitude at dinner tonight, y/n!â
âi might bullshit on that, valerie. you know when i hear something stupid, my attitude canât help it. iâll try for you though! not my best, but iâll try.â
you retort with a smirk and release yourself from a giggling valerie. you take the last thirty minutes to get ready. you don your white, shimmery strapless evening dress with matching fingerless opera gloves. you perfect your hair and makeup to your liking. to say you looked beautiful tonight was an understatement. you bashfully receive the encouraging compliments from valerie in which you reciprocate the kindness. thereâs a knock on the bedroom door and valerie opens it to reveal one of the maids, letting you know that there are two gentlemen in the foyer waiting. your stomach starts to rumble with dread, but then it serves to your memory that you only have to give this man an hour of your time if heâs not up to par, so fuck it, just get it over with.
âah, shit. is it too late to take back what i said about michael jackson?â you curse under your breath, rolling your eyes slightly.
valerie nudges you playfully, her excitement buzzing in the air, but still some annoyance towards your irritability. âgirl, donât start. they just got here, damn! youâll never know, you might end up digginâ on him when the night is over. now haul ass!â
you suck your teeth and quietly retort, âdigginâ my ass.â
you grab your fur boas and designer clutch handbags. valerie takes the lead and you exit her bedroom to descend down the marble staircase of the hill manor. you keep your head down to watch your step, but then you hear a male voice circulating in the room.
âwow, you guys look absolutely stunning. the talk around town certainly donât do you ladies any justice. pardon my language, but iâd tell those shit-heads to eat every word.â
âoh, my. why, thank you, cooper! you didnât have to get the flowers, you know.â valerie responds with an elated smile.
you look up to see two handsome, strapping young men in finely tailored suits with one of their hands casually stuffed in the pocket and each with a bouquet of red roses in the other. they were caucasian and stood tall in the six foot one range with dark brown hair. one had curly hair, the other straight. one had brown eyes, the other had green. as valerie scurries down the rest of the stairs to greet the curly haired green eyed suitor with an embrace and peck to his cheeks to graciously receive her roses, you were still a bit reluctant to move any further down the staircase. you swallowed and you slowly follow her path, your sweaty palm smooths your dress down your waist before approaching the man with the scrutinizing, yet amicable brown gaze. youâve been all too familiar with this look before. thatâs how they ease you in. to keep your end of the bargain, you simply flash your award winning smile when he guides the bouquet in your direction with a casual grin on his lips.
âiâm nicholas. nicholas chavez. you must be valerieâs friendâuh, y/n l/n, right? i have to say i agree with cooper here. you look absolutely gorgeous and itâs a pleasure to make your acquaintance. these are for you. may i?â he greets with such an air of politeness. well, all of the guys have to with their background before they show their true colors.
âroses? cute. original. sure.â you somewhat dryly respond. you thanked him and took the bouquet in one hand and gave your free hand to his for him to place his lips on the back, your stomach fluttered and your cheeks heated when his eyes nor lips didnât pull away from you for a second. you pull your hand back before things got too awkward. after valerie calls the maid to put the flowers in a vase of water, sheâs already walking out the door on cooperâs arm, leaving you and nicholas standing alone in the foyer. he turns his large frame to yours and juts his elbow out towards you,
âshall we? we donât want to lose the reservation.â he quips with a smirk. so insufferable! typical yuppie. with a tight lipped grin, you nod and your hand circles around hisâbulging bicep. well, fuck! nicholas was indeed jacked. you donât let the tingles of your lower region let your guard down though.
âmm-hmm. i guess we shouldnât keep them waiting.â you and him step out into the starlit evening and you stop noticing two cars, one red ferrari f40 and a black chevrolet corvette. wait a fucking minute. why the hell are there two cars? you couldâve sworn that valerie said that all four of you were taking a limousine. nicholas led you to the ferrari, while cooper led valerie to the corvette. before they could go any further, you took your hand from nicholasâ arm and called out valerieâs name in a faux friendly tone and smile.
âi apologize, fellas, but valerie, a word?â you hastily ask cutting your eyes to your best friend that protested by standing closer to cooper.
âbut, y/n, weâre gonna be laââ you cut her short by taking her hand and scurrying a few feet from your dates, so they couldnât hear your griping.
âvalerie, you sneaky ass skank! you told me we were taking a limo. you ainât said nothing about going in two separate cars! what the fuck are you trying to do!?â you hiss in a whispered tone, you were hotter than a firecracker. dumbfounded, your best friend responds with a shrug and glanced over to the confused men, sending them a wave with an embarrassed smile before shifting her focus back to you.
âgirl, i didnât know either. i guess cooper changed his mind about it before he left! iâm not mad about it though. this is our chance to get to know them one on one. i might even get lucky tonight, honey! besides, i donât need you to scare off your and my date. ride with nicholas and donât be fucking rude. just give him an hour. you promised.â
ânot exactly.â you deadpanned.
ây/n!â she hissed in the lowest, yet sharpest warning tone.
âugh. fine, iâll ride with him. iâll beâcivil.â
âperfect. now letâs get our fine asses wined and dined.â
you both hurriedly walked back nicholas and cooper. like the gentlemen they were, they opened the passenger doors for you and valerie to enter their respective vehicles and buckle up. cooper and nicholas agreed to having cooper lead the way to the restaurant while nicholas followed behind. once they entered the driverâs seats, you four made your journey. you and nicholas didnât ride in complete silence. the radio was filling the car with phil collinsâ âin the air tonightâ faintly in the background. nicholas eyes glanced over to your figure briefly. you sat in the passenger seat, one hand in your lap, the other propped up on the door as you looked out at the glistening city lights through the window, not uttering a single word. you seemed so cold. was it something he did? something he said? what he said earlier wasnât really bullshit though. nicholas has encountered his share of women who were forgettable after a night of passion, but he honest to god thought that you were a breathtakingly beautiful woman with the world at her fingertips. heâd think youâd share the same sentiment as he did, but given your bored expression, perhaps not. he took the opportunity to turn the volume knob to the left to make room for small talk. nicholas clears his throat as he slightly grips the steering wheel, his eyes focusing on the road as he trails behind cooper.
âso, uh, tell me, y/n. cooper has told me that you and valerie are studying business. i assume thatâs going well.â
you sigh at hearing the âbâ word. it felt like such a curse. your head hurts at the very mention. you muster up an answer thatâs right to the point.
âyeah, i better be or iâll bring the greatest shame to the l/n family, so i suggest you shouldnât assume, nicholas.â you retort dryly, gazing at your rose red manicured nails. nicholas felt a twinge of a tingling pain in his stomach. itâs almost eighty degrees out, but it just got to thirty in here. talk about a cold shoulder.
âiâm sorry. i didnât mean to pry or make you uncomfortable. i was just trying to make conversation considering itâs a daââ you cut him short.
âi know how a date works, man. what are you? a prosecutor trying to present to me the evidence of exhibit obvious?â
âmatter of fact, i am, wellâ studying to be. iâm in the pre-law and criminology program at my university. just like you, itâs in my bloodline.â
âoh, well. i guess itâs a change from all the guys iâve met. theyâre always waiting for their folks to kick the bucket or step down, so they could inherit a position of power thatâs worth twenty years of work, but get it because they were born. theyâll spend a shit load of money and the bodyâs not even cold yet.â
âwoahâwow. iâve never seen it in that perspective, especially not from an heiress like yourself.â nicholasâ brows furrowed and he exasperatedly whistled.
âwow indeed, nicholas. itâs a goddamn shame. what the hell does me being an heiress got to do with it, huh?â you quiz defensively, cutting your eyes to the male. nicholas takes a deep breath and combats with a firm and calm voice,
âhey, thereâs no need to get defensive, y/n. iâm just saying most people from families like ours donât typically share the same thought as you nor careâi believe itâs an interesting perspective, not a bad one, so i donât blame you for believing that money could easily sway someoneâs morals.â
âhm.â thatâs all you could respond with and you returned your gaze to the window sitting in deep thought. who the hell did nicholas chavez think he was? why isnât he combating you with the benefits of all that luxury? did this man justâsympathize with you? something was definitely up with nicholas and not to mention, you were being a bit of a bitch towards him and he was still holding a civil conversation with you. there had to be a narcissistic, egotistical bratty yuppie prick underneath that calm and collected gentleman-like demeanor. you had a scheme: you were gonna push that limit to make sure that asshole makes an appearance at that restaurant.
the guys smoothly pull up to the entrance where the security and valet are standing. they get out of their cars to open the doors for you and valerie before handing their keys and a handsome tip to the valet to get their cars parked. you gazed up at the illuminating skyscraper of the restaurant before you. THE OPULENT HAVEN flashed itself so vibrantly in the city that even the stars had some competition. it was hypnotic to say the least. you stop your gawking when you feel a large palm rest itself on the small of your spine. your brown eyes lean up to see the familiar pair of nicholasâ, a grin playing across his chiseled face.
âi take it by the way youâre staring that this is your first time here. breathtaking, isnât it?â he softly whispers in awe with a matching expression towards the structure. you inwardly groan as your stomach does that thing again. here he goes with this fake prince charming, nice guy act. who was he to assume that you havenât been here? youâre y/n fucking l/n for godâs sake! oh, who the hell were you kidding? this was your first time at this place and it looked like a palace. you didnât want to let him know that though. heâs probably been here a thousand times with a myriad of women. you never forgot your scheme to release the animal within him, so you smirk with a quirked brow in his direction before you shot back in the same whispered voice,
âand who are you to assume that i havenât been here? it just looks very elegant, nothing more. youâre acting as if iâm a damn tourist to these kinds of establishments.â
âitâs not my intention to assume, y/n. iâve just noticed that you could see and appreciate the beauty in this building like i do. if it makes you feel any better, this is just my second time around. you donât have to be so guarded, you know? now, letâs get inside before our party leaves us behind. after you.â he gives you a once over to the see through revolving doors where cooper and valerie are standing at the hostessâ station awaiting your arrival.
âwhatever.â you grumble under your breath, rolling your eyes.
âi beg your pardon?â
ânothingâletâs just get inside.â
with a silent nod and his hand still on your back, he takes the lead for you to meet with the other two. the hostess guides you all to your table and it wasnât long before a waiter arrived. cooper takes the initiative to request the restaurantâs finest merlot, water, shrimp cocktails, and pĂątĂ© as the starting course of the evening. when the server returns again, you all agree to settle on the main course of the beef wellington and lobster thermidor, and topping it off with the crĂšme brĂ»lĂ©e. cooper and valerie start to break the ice with everyone at the table. you sat with your eyes down at your purse and courtly spoke whenever spoken to without getting caught peering at the ticking clock every once in a while. who knew that a fucking hour would take a lifetime? it also didnât help that when valerie was in her own world with her precious koch boy, nicholas tried every way possible to get you to open up and with every attempt, you respond to him with such a snarky and dismissive attitude. valerie tries her best to paint you as a decent human being to the best of her ability because she really likes cooper and the last thing she needed is you scaring him off because youâre pissed at her.
âso, nicholas! do you like music? y/n sure does. i bet you didnât know that sheâs very talented at the grand piano and has been doing performances and competitions when we coming up! she even dabbles in a bit of composing.â valerie chimed, gesturing her gloved hand in your direction like you were an exhibit on display.
âyeah, i love music and thatâs actually really cool, y/n. how long have you been playing for?â
âsince i was five. youâre about to be a top shit lawyer, right? you do the math and get the facts.â you retort as you take a sip of wine. valerie rolls her eyes and hisses your name as cooper places a hand on hers. his forest eyes giving her the reassuring look of âlet it goâ. cooper knew exactly what you were doing and as his best friend, he knew that nicholasâ politeness could only be pushed so far, they all just had to wait and see it all come to a head. after your response, you noticed how nicholas clenched his jaw, cleared his throat, and his composed expression returns with a tight lipped smile. what is this guyâs deal? whereâs his backbone? heâs just like the rest of these sorry ass yuppie motherfuckers.
âshot in the dark, here. seventeen years?â
âding, ding, ding! we got a winner!â you sarcastically cheered with a toast of your wine glass.
âthatâs impressive. you must be really passionate about it. what type of styles do you typically play? classical? baroque? romantic? maybe jazz?â he leans back casually in his seat awaiting your answer. you were quite surprised that a pre-law student had such a knowledge in that area.
âanything that sounds good to my ears.â you announce with an air of confidence and shrug your shoulders. there was no utterance of a thank you, not nothing. you were gonna make sure this plan to expose him for who he truly is doesnât all go to hell. it was pissing you off that with every brash comment you made, he would kill you with cordiality.
it was pissing you off so much that even the server was catching stray bullets from you.
âexcuse me, would you tell whoever the hell prepared this dish to please remake this? thereâs no way this was right because iâve had better at a fucking cheesecake factory.â the server stood with such timidity and tried plead their case on behalf of the chef.
âmaâam, we understand your concern, but i assure that the head chef has made itââ
âwait a minute, youâre telling me this is the work of your head chef? well, i guess itâs time for him to head back to culinary school because this is fucking terrible. this is ALL terrible!â your voice rose with frustration as you throw your lap cloth down on the table like a child having a tantrum and stood from your chair with your arms firmly crossed. all you could think was fuck this restaurant, fuck this date, fuck valerie, and fuck nicholas for foiling your plan. before you could bitch and berate any further, nicholas also stood up from his chair. âwait, nicholas, donâtââ, valerie tried to open her mouth to protest and deescalate the situation, but cooper gently grabbed her wrist, shaking his head to let valerie know that nicholas had this. she just needed to watch. he was composed, but he held a perfect posture with his chest was puffed up, he kept his hands flat at his side, and he looked at you with such contempt, such disappointment, before his baritone voice dominated the room.
âno, valerie, this is not okay. iâm sorry, but iâve got to get this off my chest.â he paused. his serious, deep gaze not pulling from your curious eyes before he resumes speaking, ây/n, your behavior this whole night was completely inappropriate and unacceptable. iâm not exactly sure what your problem is with me, but iâve done nothing, but try to be civil. i donât know what type of guy you may think i am, but where i come from, manners and decorum count a lot wherever and to whoever, so i canât just sit back and let your nasty, smart-ass attitude continue. you owe every single one of us an apology, especially to that poor server. now, if you refuse, weâll take you back home and continue the night without you. do i make myself clear?â
you stood there silently, still trying to keep your guard up, but the muscles of your crossed arms loosened. the furrow of your perfectly arched brows softened and a small smile crept on your painted lips while you listen to nicholas chavez set you, y/n l/n, in her rightful place. he was respectfully getting you all the way together and boy, did you get such a titillating rush from how he was so assertive yet, still had that integrity. he was exactly the type of man youâve been craving for in your circle. the type of man that wasnât afraid to stand up for whatâs right no matter how many times heâs given the benefit of the doubt. heâd make one hell of a lawyer. it was like you were seeing stars when his eyes bore into yours, awaiting an answer. you were so stuck in staring at him, his colossal frame stepped forward to be in closer proximity to yours. the warm chocolate hue of his pupils turn darker as they continue to stare down into your own. nicholas takes the opportunity to repeat his question with an added firmness, considering he didnât get an answer the first time.
ây/n, do i make myself clear?â
you swallow.
âyes, nicholas.â
you were so entrapped in his softening gaze when you gave in. valerie sat in awe and confusion as she witnessed you humbly apologize to everyone for your behavior, including the server and the night went on pleasantly. plus, you decided to give nicholas more than an hour, you decided to give him a chance. there was something about him that had some potential you craved to see more of. you werenât always the one to get second dates, but as you attentively indulge in amicable conversation with him, youâd hope you were redeemed enough to get that chance to see nicholas again. alone. although you hated him less, he was still a fine specimen of a man. he gave you a sense of warmth. that warm feeling didnât leave when he drove you home after dinner. it didnât leave when he walked you to the door. it sure as hell didnât leave when he bid you a sweet goodnight with another lingering kiss to your hand. the image of his beautifully sculpted countenance burned deep within your brain. nicholas was even the type of guy that made sure you entered your home first before disappearing into the night. a regular yuppie asshole would speed off as soon as you closed his car door. your heart pounded within your chest as you stared at the ceiling while immersed in your satin rose duvet. every single shitty word youâve ever said and every judgmental thought youâve had towards nicholas alexander chavez was immediately transformed into immense respect and burning desire.
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{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about How to Pay off Debt
Understanding debt:
Letâs End This Damaging Misconception About Credit Cards
Season 2, Episode 10: âWhich Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?â
Dafuq Is Interest? And How Does It Work for the Forces of Darkness?
Investing Deathmatch: Paying off Debt vs. Investing in the Stock Market
How to Build Good Credit Without Going Into Debt
Dafuq Is a Down Payment? And Why Do You Need One to Buy Stuff?
Itâs More Expensive to Be Poor Than to Be Rich
Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake
How Mental Health Affects Your Finances
Paying off debt:
Kill Your Debt Faster with the Death by a Thousand Cuts Technique
Share My Horror: The Worldâs Worst Debt Visualization
The Best Way To Pay off Credit Card Debt: From the Snowball To the Avalanche
The Debt-Killing Power of Rounding up Bills
A Dungeonmasterâs Guide to Defeating Debt
How to Pay Hospital Bills When Youâre Flat BrokeÂ
Ask the Bitches Pandemic Lightning Round: âWhat Do I Do If I Canât Pay My Bills?âÂ
Slay Your Financial Vampires
Season 4, Episode 3: âMy credit card debt is slowly crushing me. Is there any escape from this horrible cycle?âÂ
Case Study: Held Back by Past Financial Mistakes, Fighting Bad Credit and $90K in DebtÂ
Student loan debt:
What We Talk About When We Talk About Student Loans
Ask the Bitches: âThe Government Put Student Loans in Forbearance. Can I Stop Payingâor Is It a Trap?â
How to Pay for College without Selling Your Soul to the Devil
When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans
Ask the Bitches: I Want to Move Out, but I Canât Afford It. How Bad Would It Be to Take out Student Loans to Cover It?
Season 4, Episode 4: âIâm $100K in Student Loan Debt and I Think It Should Be Forgiven. Does This Make Me an Entitled Asshole?âÂ
The 2022 Student Loan Forgiveness FAQ Youâve Been Waiting For
2023 Student Loan Forgiveness Update: The Good, the Bad, and the UglyÂ
Our Final Word on Student Loan ForgivenessÂ
Avoiding debt:
Ask Not How Much You Should Save, Ask How Much You Should SpendÂ
How to Make Any Financial Decision, No Matter How Tough, with Maximum Swag
Your Yearly Free Medical Care Checklist
Two-Ring CircusÂ
Status Symbols Are Pointless and DumbÂ
Advice I Wish My Parents Gave Me When I Was 16Â
On Emergency Fund Remorse⊠and Bacon Emergencies
Should You Increase Your Salary or Decrease Your Spending?Â
Donât Spend Money on Shit You Donât Like, Fool
The Magically Frugal Power of Patience
The Only Advice Youâll Ever Need for a Cheap-Ass WeddingÂ
The Most Impactful Financial Decision Iâve Ever Made⊠and Why I Donât Recommend ItÂ
3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income)Â
Buy Now Pay Later Apps: That Old Predatory Lending by a Crappy New NameÂ
Credit Card Companies HATE Her! Stay Out of Credit Card Debt With This One Weird TrickÂ
Ask the Bitches: Should I Get a Loan Even Though I Can Afford To Pay Cash?Â
The Bitches vs. debt:
I Paid off My Student Loans Ahead of Schedule. Hereâs How.
I Paid off My Student Loans. Now What?
Hurricane Debt Weakens to Tropical Storm Debt, but Experts Warn Itâs Still Debt
The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years
Case Study: Swimming Upstream against Unemployment, Exhaustion, and $2,750 a Month in Unproductive SpendingÂ
Thatâs all for now! We try to update these masterposts periodically, so check back for more in⊠a couple⊠months??? Maybe????
#debt#mortgage#credit card debt#debt management#debt consolidation#pay off debt#student loans#student loan debt#loan#financial tips#money tips#personal finance
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thinking about modern au Kabru
ivy league college student, probably studying law and political science on a full scholarship. first time living away from Milsiril so he has to promise her, yes mom iâll call you at least four times a week, no mom i donât need your amex black card, yes mom the normal credit card is fine i need to learn how to budget like a Normal Person (it has a limit of $20k â thatâs not normal Kabru).
Milsiril insists for a long time that sheâll just get him a house off campus so he can have his own space (aka a place she can drop by anytime and possibly live a few months out of the year just to be close to him) but Kabru puts his foot down and tells her the best way heâs gonna make friends is by living with other students (bye mom).
his floor in the coed dorms is the party floor and he always makes sure to invite everybody (his nightmare is accidentally leaving anyone out and having them think that he doesnât like them). somehow itâs always a good time, everyone leaves with more friends than they came with, it never gets totally out of control, and plenty of girls who are interested in him (and a lot of guys too tbh) bring tons of baked treats so thereâs always free food. Kabru is the RAâs favourite person to have in the building (even though Kabru himself is messy but most of the people heâs friends with are nice and clean up after themselves).
he has a porsche (Milsiril gift for his 16th bday) but heâs adamant about not driving it unless he absolutely has to (because he doesnât wanna look like a douche). BUT he never says no when his friends ask for rides (so he ends up driving all the time anyway). he actually contemplates selling the porsche and going for a more practical car but Mickbell is like âdude you are not taking this away from me.â Kabru sighs and decides to keep it because his friends (Mickbell) like being chauffeured around in a fancy convertible (Rin, Holm, and Dia donât care, theyâre just glad they donât have to walk to the grocery store).
heâs probably on a casual texting basis with most of his professors and you know heâs going to all their office hours, grabbing beer with them just to keep chatting about life outside of school. and thatâs how he winds up in some super secret faculty group chat where heâs now privy to all the college administration gossip.
Kabru is elected for student council during his freshman year and heâs probably the favourite to be sc president one day.
he doesnât really date (gets too in his head about how he doesnât wanna ruin any friendships) but he does hang out one on one with a lot of girls and treats them all really well. he probably goes so far out of his way to be platonic that he flies a little too close to the âJust Like One of the Girliesâ sun, he kinda forgets that most people interpret it as flirting coming from him. which leads to a few awkward conversations. people feeling led on, a few angry jealous boyfriends, scathing dms about him being a girl stealing homewrecker.
itâs such a nightmare for him and he needs it to end right now. so he begs Rin to âdateâ him for a week or two and then publicly dump him just so the entire student body gets the message that he is Just A Friend.
Rin stares at him for a few seconds. then she laughs. she laughs and laughs. she laughs for a crazy long time. and then eventually she goes, âwow youâre an asshole, Kabru. no i wonât be your fake girlfriend. youâre gonna suffer and iâm going to enjoy it.â
and thatâs when Kabru has a moment of enlightenment. ok yeah. asking for that is probably really selfish and mean. maybe he needs to think about girlsâ feelings more and thatâs maybe more important than his deep seated need to be liked, and when has Rin ever been wrong about anything.
he apologizes. and so begins one of the more serious talks heâs ever had with Rin about being okay with not being liked.
he thinks he can really turn over a new leaf. the whole ânot worrying about what other people thinkâ thing goes pretty well â up until Kabru meets the aloof professor for his Monsters and Myths class who keeps forgetting and mispronouncing his name.
Kabru has never needed someone to like him So Bad, he needs Prof. Touden to like him as a matter of life and death, and heâs willing to look stupid for it (fails a midterm on purpose to justify begging for one on one tutoring)
#wow if you made it to the end of this post hereâs some surprise labru#kabru says fuck my gpa i need this white boy to like me#i am plagued by demons (labru professor/student situationship)#dungeon meshi modern au#ok but the Kabru Milsiril dynamic is my new favourite chew toy#especially them in a modern setting#all of the lavish gifts and expensive lifestyle that Milsiril would want Kabru to have#perhaps even as a way of depending on her forever (love to an unhealthy degree)#but Kabru is more interested in people than material things#so perhaps heâs a little out of touch financially (thinks a jug of milk costs $12)#but heâs still very much socially aware#enough to know that he canât just be another annoying trust fund kid with a dumb car and designer clothes and zero fucks about academics#so his social and academic excellence is probably in large part overcompensation for his privileged upbringing#and even the thought of someone not liking him gives him stomach cramps LOL#kabru my love you will always be famous#kabru of utaya#kabru#wasabi rambles#labru#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon
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Want to know everything that's ever happened in Project Sekai but don't have time to read all those stories? Guess what! For the low, low price of "it seems fun", I'll be summarizing every single event!
Feel free to request any summaries or card stories you'd like to see summarized. You may also submit your own summaries, if you'd like! Use the forms found in this post to do so :)
If you have a question about any of the stories as well, feel free to ask and I will do my best to answer! (Or just come and say hi :3)
If you'd like to use any of these summaries as part of a project (i.e. video essay, character analysis, etc.), you are more than welcome to! Just please credit this blog when you do so, since I do put a lot of work into each.
I try my best to get 1-2 summaries out a week, but iâm a busy college student doing this in my spare time, so things might be slow!
Masterpost links below the cut. All summaries will be tagged by unit, character appearances, and special type, if applicable.
THE ULTIMATE MASTERPOST SPREADSHEET
(Spreadsheet contains organized, filterable lists of all events and cards! I've tried making it as accessible as possible, but if you're unfamiliar with Google Sheets, just ask and I'll show you how to navigate it!)
Old Masterposts below! (Out of date, no longer maintained)
Key Stories
Leo/need
MORE! MORE! JUMP!
Vivid BAD SQUAD
Wonderlands x Showtime
Nightcord at 25:00
Mixed Events
Year 1 (Run! Sports Festival Committee Rush! - Scramble Fan Festa)
Year 2 (Time to Hang Out - At this Festival Bathed in Twilight)
Year 3 (Screaming!? Welcome to the Forest of Wolves! - Hello âą Good âą Day)
Year 4 (The Best Picture Wrap! -Wedding Live ⥠With Everyone!)
Card Stories
Any event card stories will be linked next to their respective events, as well as within the summary itself. (Initial 3* cards are part of the Main Stories)
Initial 1*/2* (Including 3rd Anniversary)
Birthday Cards
Fes Cards / Bloom Cards
Collaboration Cards
Card stories for events yet to be summarized
Miscellaneous
April Fools
#pinned post#project sekai#prsk#leo/need#more more jump#vivid bad squad#wonderlands x showtime#nightcord at 25:00#characters are tagged as [last name] [first name]#virtual singers are tagged as [unit abbreviation] [first name]#side characters with no last name are tagged as [unit abbreviation] [name]#main story#unit event#mixed event#world link#card story#new years#anniversary#wedding#valentine's#white day#fes card#bloom card#miscellaneous#april fools#<- special event types#not a summary#<- for anything else i may say on here!#masterpost
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Modern AU: Sugar Daddy | My Sugar Daddy Loves Me
Headcanon: Maglor, Finrod, Ecthelion, Thingol, Elrond
Request: Hi Mina I hope you doing well could you please write a part 2 of your sugar daddy au? With Ecthelion, Maglor, Finrod, Elrond and Maeglin - Anon
A/N: Not gonna lie, I had a hard time envisioning Finrod as a sugar daddy since I link those who are Daddy/DILF material as a sugar daddy. He seemed so aloof as a sugar daddy and more like Friends with Benefits lol.
Warnings: a female-focused reader, smut, breeding/creampies
✠Part 1 | Part 2
✠Modern AU Series
â§âË âïžâ
âĄđ àŁȘ ÖŽÖ¶Öž. Maglor
✠Heâs a world-renowned pop star who is beloved by everyone, and you are his lovely darling he met during a backstage meet and greet when he slipped his number into your back pocket and whispered, âCall me.â
✠Of course you called him because thatâs how you receive gifts on your doorstep after every performance he has, world tours, or when his albums go platinum. You are the mysterious lover that his fans talk about because of paparazzi.
✠For the most of your dynamic shared with him, you are kept a secret because, to him, it makes everything more thrilling. All those posts of him on vacation or tours with snips of your hands, legs or back, or the albums being written about you, make everything invigorating.
✠On the days when he does return from touring, you are showered in affection abundantly. Necklaces and anklets with your name or his name, dozens of roses, lingerie, the latest fashion wear, a lump sum of money floating into your account and some days between the sheets.
✠Plus, that pretty black credit card in your back pocket feels incredibly heavy with all the financial opportunities itâs allowing you to make. It doesnât bother him with you swipe his card to make your purchases because he has lots of trust in you (please donât rob him).
✠The dynamic between you both differs from the others who would reward you for excelling at your job or studies. With Maglor, heâll reward you for being silent as he takes you in the recording booth during breaks, support him during his concerts, and when he wins awards.
✠Apart from dropping all the materialistic gifts on you, Maglor takes him time to worship you from head to toe. You are, after all, the inspiration behind his best-selling albums, and he has inserted your moans as background vocals on some of his songs.
✠A passion lover you got as a sugar daddy with an oral fixation (best his mouth). He has to show you how talented those lips are; singing isnât all that he can do with his tongue. Plus, heâs also a guitarist, so let the realisation sink in with those fingers.
â§âË âïžâ
âĄđ àŁȘ ÖŽÖ¶Öž. Finrod
✠Right off the bat, his type of sugar daddy isnât for pleasure purposes and itâs the last reason why he was willing to care for you. He just wants someone to spoil and spend lots of time with because heâs rich and lonely in his mansion.
✠Being spoilt is something you never have to question because heâs eager to be your sugar daddy even though he doesnât consider himself as one. Heâll just tell you that heâs a good friend helping another friend out while handing you his unlimited credit card and a bunch of gifts.
✠The adventurous type to call you up in the middle of the night and TELL you that he already booked you all a flight a trip to a tropical island for two weeks filled with various fun activities. The idea that you have classes or work tomorrow doesnât sink in until youâre reminding him.
✠Itâs a frequent occurrence with him visiting/calling at early hours to check out new places in the city or for you to come over because his giant house is lonely. At some point, you are living in with him and all the maids have become familiar with you.
✠If youâre a college student, you are funded, and yes, he does have an interest in your academics. However, heâs a lot more understanding if you fail a course because heâs the reason (making you miss classes with those trips); he might suggest dropping out and letting him permanently care for you because he can also get you a decent job without a degree.
✠As I mentioned, pleasure isnât something Finrod is interested in during the agreement. Thatâs something you would have to initiate one night as youâre relaxing in bed or returning from dinner. Take the lead and make him rethink his agreement to incorporate it often and scrap the âfriendsâ talk.
✠He isnât someone who becomes stressed, so if anything, youâre the one whoâs getting the rough sex when youâre stressed. He is happy to help because if youâre keeping him company, he has to return the favour with an open mind. And trust me when I say, heâs good at what he does but acts casual as if he didnât strip away your ability to walk.
✠At least your time being his sugar baby will be fun and filled with excitement, something that outshines the finances and pleasure he blesses you with. His desire for companionship helps to make the dynamic between you two worthwhile.
â§âË âïžâ
âĄđ àŁȘ ÖŽÖ¶Öž. Ecthelion
✠Responsible for marketing some of the most valuable gemstones around the world; mostly invested in the diamond stock market. The first time you met him and stepped into his house, you noticed how much he was obsessed with the gemstone. You donât complain because itâs what he gifts you whenever you perform well for him.
✠He covers all your tuition expenses and living commodities and gives you one of his unlimited credit cards to shop for your heart's desires. In return, you must bring home good grades (heâll tell you whatâs good) and keep up your good reputation. He doesnât want you to ever tarnish your reputation.
✠Ecthelion is wealthy and educated, so he doesnât mind getting involved and invested in your field of work or degree program. Depending on what it is, heâll extend his knowledge, but if he doesnât know, heâll make attempts to get you good connections to boost your career.
✠So long as you maintain your good grades and reputation, youâre in it for life. Heâs taking you vacations to tropical islands, opera shows, shopping sprees, buying you the most expensive jewellery sets and clothes. You will be rocking the best designer clothes, Ecthelion isnât standing for you wearing simple clothes.
✠Of course, when you perform excellently for him, he will return the favour with more than just trips and money. He established in the beginning that he was seeking companionship during your deal, and as much as he wanted to keep things professional, something about the red lipstick you adore wearing sucked him in.
✠Perhaps allowing you to give him a blowjob under the table in his office during a quick visit and leaving lipstick smeared all over his cock made him change his mind about keeping things professional. He was pleased when you agreed to make the relationship more intimate than hugs and kisses.
✠He wastes no time whenever heâs stressed to relieve himself through you (with your consent). Youâre his little stress reliever, and in return, Ecthelion doesnât mind letting you use him to beat your stress. Sex is rough and steamy between you both. You are getting bent over countertops, work desk, pressed against the wall, heâs hungry beneath his professional demeanour.
✠While he is a formal and sophisticated gentleman, and he would not touch you inappropriately in public, that doesnât mean he doesnât purchase you vibrator panties and plugs. Youâre sitting beside him during a conference meeting and heâs causally playing with the speed on his phone, making you cum.
â§âË âïžâ
âĄđ àŁȘ ÖŽÖ¶Öž. Thingol
✠This sugar daddy is drifting over to the DILF side of things and do not be fooled by his silver hair, he isnât old, heâs simply trendy and into the latest fashion styles. Giovani, Armani, Dior, Marco Polo, Ralph Lauren and the list goes on. Thingol is an old-money type of sugar daddy, and he adores showing off his wealth to you.
✠To be honest, Thingol really want to be your sugar daddy because he saw you and liked you. At the time, you were a broke college student or young worker struggling in the business world who used the opportunity he was providing to build your career and status.
✠Thingol doesnât care about all that (at first), but he does ensure all your needs and desires are met. Tuitions paid, loans cleared, no negative credit score or empty bank account. Youâre the rich student on campus or your job that everyone is jealous of because he makes sure the world knows youâre spoilt by rolling up in some custom Rolls Royce or Bently.
✠Your unlimited credit cards weigh a ton in your pocket, but who cares because youâre rich and being pampered as you deserve? Of course, nothing in life comes for free and without payment. Thingol might carry some age because he has a fully grown child, but he isnât old.
✠He makes it clear that he would enjoy being intimate and seeking companionship in return for the wealth spent on you. Do you decline, of course not (you canât, or youâll end up poor again).
✠Thingol is the definition of old is the new young. This man has the stamina to last for a lifetime and makes sure youâre always satisfied. He can be stingy and demand that you give him more attention (heâs a receiver more than a giver). Youâll have to catch him in the right mood for him to be on the giving end.
✠But still, you canât complain because youâre getting good dicâ. Anyway speaking of spoiling you, he adores whenever youâre completely decked out in lingerie for him, i.e. just all the jewellery he bought for you and nothing else.
✠He does have a slight breeding kink, but it isnât intending to want children, so you have nothing to worry about. Thingol just enjoys the sight of prettying his sugar baby.
✠Know that heâll gift you some necklace or ring that informs everyone that youâre his and no one elseâs. If you ask him if it means heâs proposing, heâll reply with something along the lines of, âYouâre already mine princess, wedding ring or not.â
â§âË âïžâ
âĄđ àŁȘ ÖŽÖ¶Öž. Elrond
✠DILF number three and it makes perfect sense since heâs a descendant of many DILFs (Fingolfin, Turgon, Thingol). But Elrond doesnât mind being someoneâs sugar daddy, though his intentions are more for genuine purposes. If you want more, youâre gonna have to do all the work to show him that itâs more than paying your tuition and giving you money.
✠Nevertheless, he covers all your expenses and demands that you perform excellently in your field of study or job. Elrond would even go out of his way to personally teach you (and no, I donât mean bending you over the desk type of teaching) to ensure success is at your fingertips.
✠This man is the most passionate and dedicated sugar daddy who cares about your well-being to a great extent. Heâs well-rounded, so heâs fulfilling all your needs and wants, health, education, finances, basic commodities and living expenses. Please donât disappoint him by failing your classes, heâs pulling all his money into the best tutors.
✠In return for your devotion and passion for excellence, you are getting spoiled but not like the others. Elrond doesnât mind giving you money or taking you on shopping sprees or trips around the world, he simply doesnât want you dependent dependent on him to always provide since heâs building you up to become your own boss and financially secure.
✠Heâll spoil, but not to that extent. Such a philosophical man, teaching all about life and how to be independent and headstrong.
✠Now, as Iâve previously mentioned, if you want him to take you to bed, impressions are everything. Elrondâs the type to get impressed by your sense of elegance, sophistication and linguistics. Show him how skilled your tongue is, and heâll be wanting more. No doubt heâs rewriting the contract in his mind.
✠He has kids and knows how to ramp in between the sheets. In his state, he probably isnât interested in more given his desire for companionship, but that doesnât mean he isnât going to be giving out creampies. The sight of it is his catalyst for wanting to give you more and keep you up all night.
✠Heâs a gentleman in the streets and will incapacitate you in the sheets. Tricks up his sleeves despite having an old fashion appeal about him. Give him a dance dressed in some pretty lingerieânothing overly fancy, he likes elegance and simplicityâwhile he sips on whisky or brandy in a button-down shirt and his tie lazily discarded around his neck.
✠Treat him well because running multiple companies is tiring, so relieve his stress while he relieves yours and youâll be the happiest sugar baby ever.
Masterlist
Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @mysticmoomin @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @ladyenchanted @mcwentfandomtraveling @involuntaryspasms @aconstructofamind @addaigio
If you would like to be tagged, click the taglist link.
#silm smut#sugar daddy!au#maglor x reader#finrod x reader#ecthelion x reader#thingol x reader#elrond x reader#silmarillion imagine#silmarillion x reader#silmarillion headcanons#silmarillion smut#middle earth x reader#middle earth imagine#middle earth headcanons#middle earth smut#lord of the rings headcanons#lord of the rings x reader#lord of the rings smut#lotr smut#lotr headcanons#lotr x reader#maglor smut#finrod smut#ecthelion smut#thingol smut#elrond smut#x reader insert#x reader smut#silmarillion#doodlepops writings âš
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Dumb/Bimbofication (Strade/MC)
one of my top kinks that i totally overthought and ruined for myself for like two weeks lol, but the purpose of this challenge is to NOT overthink. STUPID. dumb. why are you so dumb, huh? i know you like being dumb, but just try to think for even a second, okaaaaay? :3
day 30: dumb/bimbofication second person. cw for incredibly dubious consent. please actually go to college. or donât. iâm not your dad.
"Ooh! You've got a student ID in here. What, trying to keep all those discounts even after you've graduated? You naughty thing."
You whimpered very quietly, your voice like the shivering mewl of a dying animal, as Strade sifted through your purse.Â
He tossed aside your personal effects flippantly, pocketing any cash you had stuffed between the folds (what little you did have), and flicked through your numerous credit and loyalty cards carelessly, covering the basement floor with remnants of the life you had before him.
If you could even call this a life.
"Nooo, hang on, this is pretty up to date," He then said after a beat, his features narrowing as he took a closer look at your ID, before his eyes went back up to yours, a dark brow raised in a silent question. "You haven't graduated yet?â He grimaced, but it was a sympathetic expression that didnât suit him in the slighest. âYeesh, you're a little too old to be at university anymore, aren't you?"
"I'm...a-a grad student," You murmured, idly licking your bloody lips (you refused to drink anything he had offered you and you were sorely regretting that decision now) and casting your gaze downwards, not wanting to look at him. "I...um, I teach sometimes, tooâŠguest lectures, that sort of thingâŠ"
"You're a teacher?" He asked, raising his brow.
"Teaching assistant," You corrected him, before looking back down. "Um...I'm...working on a PhD...in, um," You bit your lip, cringing slightly at the dramatic irony. "...Criminal psychology."
"Criminal-HAH!" He cut himself off with a hearty guffaw, a deeply indulgent smile spreading on his face, clearly thrilled by your discomfort. "Wow, what are the chances?! Hey," He sat forward with another laugh, pushing himself closer towards you. "If you survive this," If. "This'll be a great inclusion in your essay, won't it? They'll give you that fancy degree on the spot!"
Your lip trembled and you looked down again, trying to hold yourself together (trying not to burst into tears) and not think too much about the fact he said 'if you survive'.
If.
You'd read countless books, journals and articles about guys like Strade, the rare sadist (who were not so rare, with one in ten people identifying with sadistic traits, according to university study) who didn't channel his desires into relationships with vulnerable girls or tearing people apart online, but actually did something about it.Â
You should know how to deal with situations like this. And you did, on paper anyway.
Theory rarely worked as well, in real life, as they did on paper.
"Hmph," He chuckled, looking back down at the student ID before he tossed it aside (and even that stung a little). "Iâm not being fairâŠitâs impressive, really! You must be pretty smart, huh?" His expression softened slightly, golden eyes sparkling with mirth, before he reached out and ran a hand through your hair. "How lucky for you...beautiful AND clever. Most people only get graced with one of those features, you know?"
You didnât say anything, but you let your head follow his touch, a tear beading down your cheek.
You thought it best to play along, at least a little, and not piss him off anymore than you had to.
You did want to survive this, after all.
Strade let out a huff through his nose and gently (as gently as he could manage) brushed the tear away with his thumb, before his fingers wrapped around your chin and he forced you to look up at him again.Â
"I don't think smarts are good for much, though," He said cryptically, canting his head to the side with a strange sort of smirk. "Not in a situation like yours."
He then pushed his free hand through your hair, and forcefully slammed your head back against the support beam you were propped up against.Â
"HNGH-!"
Without time to prepare or adjust, you could feel your eyes widen and bulge out your skull, straining against your fragile eyelids, and your teeth rattle (you even wondered if heâd knocked something loose with the force of the slam), and a wound opened on the back of your head, near instantly, weeping and red, blood running down the back of your neck.
"NGH, s-stop!" You yelped, planting bound up hands (flattened into parcel-tape wrapped mitts, so you could move but not much else) against his chest and trying to push him away.
He laughed callously as you struggled against him, but he stayed where he was, bringing his free hand up and tapping your forehead with a finger.
A condescending little gesture that made your insides twist uncomfortably.
"How about you stop thinking first?" He said.. "It's like I said already, fraulein, smarts aren't gonna help you, and smart people like you,â He tapped your forehead again. âYou always think too much. So, stop using that thing in your head, hm?"
"Mmf," You sniffled, soft and pathetic sounding, from the pounding pain, even more tears running down your burning cheeks, as he shoved your head back against the support beam again, your head throbbing and oozing with blood the more he fucked with you. "Stop, please-"
"Come on, I alread told you what I want!" He said, somehow outraged, with a tut and a shake of his head. "Mein gott, it's really so easy. Just switch that brain off and focus on being...mm, cute, hm?â He smirked, clearly pleased with himself when your flushed cheeks flushed someohow darker. âAfter all, I don't think you're really cut out for thisâŠah, psychologist business, are you, fraulein?"
He reached out, running a finger down your face, before smirking and tilting his head.Â
"You know better than I do, you have to keep your emotions in check when you're dealing with criminals like me, sweetie. You need to stay calm if you want to think clearly. Didn't they teach you that in all those classes of yours?~"
He unexpectedly (totally expetedly, you were just too out of it to think right) slammed your head back into the beam, knocking your brain around even more, as another rivuloet of blood ran down the small of your back and trickled on the cement floor.
"Stop iiiit, stop thinking!" Strade teased, grinning lecherously, despite his evident frustration. as he leaned into you, bringing his mouth close to your ear. "Come ooon, you already know that you're not getting out of this, don't you? What are you clinging onto all those smarts for?â You felt the caress of his tongue run over the shell of your ear, and your grimace just set deeper. âYou might even like dumbing down a little."
He snicked again, his tongue tracing the line of tears on your flushed cheek, as his fingers, sticky with the blood oozing from your head. trailed down your heaving chest.
"I know I'll like it, anyway."
"Hhhh," You let out a deep exhale when he finally let go of your hair, your head sinking down to your thighs, barely able to support yourself.
Your head was hurting so badly.Â
You just wanted to be left alone.Â
"Heh, good for you. You're pretty stubborn!" He said, like he was paying you a compliment, moving closer to your slumped form for a moment. "They teach you that in your fancy college? How to put up with torture, threats, rape, that sort of thing? Sounds like a class I'd like a whole lotâŠ"
Strade pushed himself to his feet with a soft 'hup!', then, and paced over to his workbench, openinhg one of the drawers with a metallic clatter.
"Well, if you won't respond to violence...I think I know another way to, ah...turn your brain off, so to speak."
He rifled through the drawer for a moment before he produced what looked like a...egg vibrator.
Your head was still swimming from his pain, but your eyes widened, dreadfully wide (with dread being the operative word) and you forced yourself to sit up as he paced back towards you, smirking like a Devil at the clear fear in your expression.Â
"Ah, I know that look," He grinned as he took the knee in front of you again, moving his foot (the thick sole of his boot) over your ankle and pinning it still against the basement floor. âMm, maybe they donât prep you for rape, like I thought they didâŠmight want to talk about that with those professors if you get out of this one, liebling~â
"Ngh, no, no-" You grimaced as his free hand forced your thighs to part.
"Now, I'm not usually one to do this sort of thing.â He started, like you hadnât said a thing. âI've got a buddy who's way more into this stuff then I am, but, ah," He raised his eyes to yours, his expression giving away an eleation that made your stomach churn. "I'm getting the sense that a geek like you isn't so familiar with the more...intimate sides of things, hm? Sooo, maybe I should use that to my advantage?"
âNononono,â You grit your teeth with erratic fear, trying to guard yourself with your taped up paws, but he was stronger than you (and not dazed out of his mind), and was able to overpower you with ease, pinning your hips backwards and forcing the egg into the gusset of your underwear. âNo, Strade, please-!â
"And hey, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe youâre not a total prude like I thought, butâŠno offence, but you don't seem to be a very popular kind of girl," He teased with a shit eating smirk. "With your head in the books all the time, I'm guessing you didn't have much time to be...social, huh?âÂ
He kneeled between your spread legs then, forcing them to open to accommodate him and only pushing you more open.
âWell, no worries. I'll teach you how to have a good time...and turn off the brain for a few minutes, too."
âNGH!â
You took in a sharp inhale as the toy buzzed to life (where was he even hiding the remote?), the initial sensation unfamiliar and uncomfortable, especially when combined with your throbbing head.
"Mph, see, there we go," He muttered approvingly, his golden eyes focused on the way your face was twisting into a grimace, your legs trying to close around him as the buzzing continued, relentless, rubbing against parts of yourself that even you hadnât touched. "Now, that's a better expression. You don't have to think about that big scary brain of yours, now, do you? You get to just...let yourself be dumb for a while."
His free hand let go of your thigh and gently brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, before cupping your cheek.Â
"Doesn't that feel better? Doesnât it feel nice to beâŠaway from whatever life you were living before?â He tilted his head, giving you a considered expression. âYou don't have to think about those grades, those classes...all those books. Sounds like a real drag, doesn't it? You get to just enjoy the feeling for a little while, okay?"
"Okaaayyy..." You drawled, squeezing your eyes shut as your shaking hands sank down to your sides, the sensation from the buzzing toy simulationusaly overwhelming and...incredibly pleasurable.
You didnât even know your body was capable of feeling like this.
When did other people learn about this?
"Heh, that's a good girl," Strade murmured with a filthy grin, leaning in closer to you, rubbing his thu,mb over your cheek. "Thatâs much better. Now, you get to just be a cute little thing for me, donât you? You don't have to think about a thing. You don't get to worry about your studies, your job, your family...anything like that.âÂ
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.
âYou just focus on being...sweet, and pretty, and dumb. Can you do that for me? Hmmm?~"
"Uh huuuh," You breathed out, your tight expression relaxing a little as he used the egg to massage between your wet folds, teasing a node just above your dripping hole that made you see stars. "Oh, that's good...nhh..."
"Mhmm, see? Youâre feeling good," Strade chuckled, taking in the sight of you with an indulgent sigh, indulging in the way your expression was slowly relaxing and transforming under his touch. "So good, you became a cute, little idiot for me without me even trying. Hah!â
He increased the intensity slightly, watching your expression intently.
âYou're liking being a little puppet for me, aren't you? You enjoying this, even if youâre pretending otherwise. HnnâŠâ He grinned against your cheek, breathing you in. âYou like it when I make you feel like this, all mindless and dumb for me? Come on, let me hear how much you like it."
"Oh, god-!" You gasped, pressing your sweaty, tear streaked face against his shoulder (leaving a wet print on his shirt as you did so).
He chuckled kindly, not seeming to mind, and placed a hand to the back of your head, forcing your face closer.
"That's it, baby doll," He cooed encouragingly, circling the tip of the egg in a tight little circle against your cunt. "Feels good, doesnât it? Nice and intense? You don't have to use that head for a damn thing anymore. All those hours studying, thinking, trying to use that brain...well, it got you into some trouble all right, didn't it?â He pet your hair slowly, like he was petting an animal. âDonât let yourself get upset again, though. It could have happened to anyoneâŠyouâre just lucky enough that it happened to you, arenât you?â
"Mmhmm," You nodded (as best you could), biting your lip hard as you felt your brain (figuratively) start to slur in your aching, bleeding skull andâŠleak out of any available hole it could.
Maybe it would be better if you just submitted to him.
That's what all your classes told you to do, wasn't it? To...submit to what the criminal wanted, to play along, act dumb and pliant and easy, even if that meant losing yourself completely.
That had to be it.
"Good girl," He praised, his lips pressed against your ear again so you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Behaving so well, now, arenât you? You just needed someone to help you feel good, and nowâŠall those big thoughts you had before are just...slipping out of your head.â
âMmhmm~â
âIt's so much easier for someone like you, isn't it? Being a brainless, little doll? So easy to just listen to my every word and do exactly what I tell you? You can just...sit back and enjoy the feelingâŠyou don't even have to think about it. Thatâs what Iâm here for, isnât it, liebling?"
Yeah.
Submitting would be the smart thing to do.Â
"Hmph. So much for college, right?~"
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All I Wanted
chapter 02 "remember to slow down" master list previous chapter ⣠⣠⣠next chapter word count 5.3k (fuck) â cursing ⥠smut dress inspo bc im a visual person
The days that followed that night were a delicate dance, or like stepping on eggshells. There was an unspoken tension between you and Jake that hadnât been there before, at least not ever that you two would acknowledge. It was like that one drunken night back in college, when Jake had come by for a visit when he could manage to slip away from flight school and a night on the town turned into barely making it back to your small student apartment. You two never spoke about that night. Ever.
And now, there was a second night you two wouldnât ever speak of. When he finally became aware of your guilt.
So what do two people do when thereâs tension they canât address? Ignore it, and throw themselves into âbusyâ routines. Jake had a routine where he went for a run every morning at 7AM, which left you alone to shower and leisurely wake up at your own pace. By the time heâd return by 8:30 on the dot, youâd have breakfast ready for him when he finished his shower. You werenât sure if he ever noticed the way your gaze lingered on the beads of sweat that would slip down between his abs.
If he did, he never said anything about it. But.. Jake did notice it, how couldnât he? He was watching you like a hawk, knowing better than anyone else the turmoil in your mind. You were an overthinker, and even though he had begged you to stop fighting this, stop fighting him, you were too damn stubborn to listen.
Just like he had caught you admiring him, Jake admired you. When heâd get back from his runs and could tell you had showered because your hair still was damp, he would spend the next several hours watching as it dried. Heâd be able to see the way your skin glowed from whatever lotion you had used afterwards, and he could smell it from even the farthest side of the room.
And despite the busy routines, there were moments that betrayed the cracks in the facade. When there were moments of laughter, they were quickly followed by silence that suffocated the room. Or the times where Jake goes to pass you in the kitchen and his hand sweeps along your waist as he brushes past, thereâs an unspoken weight to it. There were even a few times where youâd start to say something and catch yourself, deciding it best to leave it be. Jake did it too. You both noticed it.
Putting aside whatever was brewing in that house between you two, the facade had to go on.
Invited to your parents 30th wedding anniversary, Jake and you had to buckle up for a night of normalcy, or whatever you two deemed normal at this point. At this point, lying to your family and friends had become the easiest part of this marriage!
Figures.
Your parents werenât shy when it came to throwing around money, which sounds confusing considering you had been drowning in medical bills and credit card debt before your knight in shining fighter jet came to your rescue. Their money was theirs, they paid for your college education which not a lot of people can say they got the same luxury, but beyond that you had to make it on your own. You were fine with that, itâs what you always expected.
To be fair to them.. You didnât tell them you were sick. Maybe if they had known, they wouldâve helped, but you never wanted to know for sure. You had been dead set you could handle it yourself and Jake was the only one who could see that while, yes, you could.. Youâd never be happy or you again without some kind of shoulder to lean on.
You mentioned money because the sheer cost of renting out Meanwhile Brewing, a craft brewery and taproom in south Austin, was a number you couldnât comprehend. It put into perspective how deep their pockets were to have been able to rent out a place of this magnitude, including bottomless drinks.Â
When Jake and you arrived, he had insisted on helping you out of the truck, feigning it was due to your attire, but really he wanted a chance to hold you even for a moment. From the second he saw you walk out of the closet the two of you shared, he was taken back.
Satin warm toned silver, thinly strapped, hugging the best of your curves and valleys and falling just to the mid of your calf, not to mention the slit on the side that came to the midpoint of your thigh. And donât even get him started on the way the neckline draped elegantly just over the crest of your breasts.
It was going to be a long fucking night, and Jake needed to help you out of the truck. It was a desperate attempt to get his hands on you that worked perfectly in his favor. As soon as he had your feet firm on the ground, Jake let out a low whistle of appreciation.
âRemind me to thank your mother for picking this number out for you,â Jake said before letting his grip on your waist go (reluctantly). The way your face scrunched up and you hit his arm made him grin.
âShut up,â you mumbled and adjusted the fabric. Fuck.. Was he wishing he was satin fabric right now?.. Yes. âYou donât mean that.â
âCanât a man compliment his wife?â Jake asked as you linked your arm with his and started to walk through the parking lot towards the back of the property, where already music was blaring and chatter was being made. âOr at least compliment her mom?â
âOh Iâm sure my mom would love some compliments from you,â you encouraged him as you two made it to the epicenter of the gathering. There were groups scattered over the grounds, and you were.. Kind of amazed your parents had this many friends. âIâm not even the tiniest bit surprised she got your measurements down to the smallest millimeter.â
âDonât remind me,â Jake said as he readjusted his sports coat. It was a nice cream that complimented your dress. And your mother got his whole look tailored just perfectly. âDrink?â
âGonna need it,â you admitted and he laughed, low and close to your temple as he pressed a kiss to the top of your heads.
âComing right up,â Jake said before taking his arm from yours and disappearing towards the taproom. You looked around the party in search of your parents.. There was no way you wouldnât be able to pick them out from this crowd-
The sound of obscene laughter and cute snorts filled the air and immediately you were drawn to it. It was an all too familiar sound you grew up with and used to agonize over when you feared judgment from your friends. Now, it was easy to find them in this large expanse of night sky and warm bulbs lights strung around the buildings.
Just as you neared your father spotted you and his expression softened.Â
âThereâs my girl,â he said and went to wrap his around around your shoulder, which you returned by encasing his side. Your mother was mid sip of a drink when she hummed.Â
âYou came!â She exclaimed and you laughed slightly.Â
âJake and I wouldnât miss this,â you reassured her.Â
âWhere is that handsome sailor anyway?â She asked looking around. You had to bite back a laugh. The fact your mother was this sprung out so early in the evening would ensure some fun.Â
At Jakeâs expense.Â
âHeâs just getting some drinks for us,â you explained and your father was quick to take hold of his other half, already knowing where this was headed.Â
âLetâs get some water in you sweetheart,â he said and you could see the care in his gaze. He led her away towards one of the buildings and disappeared from your view.Â
It was touching, it was.. what you had always wanted. To be looked at like that.Â
âIs that you, (L/N)?â
Forced from your thoughts, you turned to the new intrusion and faltered slightly.Â
âBen?â You asked with a slight smile.Â
Ben was your high school sweetheart, the guy you had the second most first with (second to Jake of course). While Jake had been the hot star football player, Ben was the hot marching band drum major. Two total opposites. Jake was walking charm, Ben had kept that charm for the right people who knew him best. The only things they had in common were.. well that they were hot.Â
And Ben still was. While Jake was ashy blonde and green eyes, Ben was black hair and deep brown eyes that screamed warmth. You hadnât seen him since you two broke up during sophomore year of college. Just before Jake visited actually.Â
Benâs eyes danced over you and you felt something flicker through your mind. They were eyes that had seen you before, but it had been so long that he needed a reminder.Â
You saw the way his gaze lingered on your hand. You knew what he was going to ask when he met your gaze once more.Â
âMarried?â He asked and you nodded.Â
âI am,â you admitted. Ben shook his head a bit, though you knew he wasnât being serious. âYou?â
âNo,â he said quickly before clearing his throat. âNearly, but no.â
âIâm sorry,â you offered and he shrugged.Â
âNothinâ to apologize for. Just wasnât meant to be,â Ben said and glanced you over one more time. âDo I even need to ask who the lucky guy is?â
Your brows furrowed slightly at his question. âI donât know.. do you?â
Ben laughed and you found yourself reliving the past. What was it with all the memories recently.Â
âMy moneyâs on anyone but Seresin,â Ben joked but when your expression didnât change, but his did - into a frown. âShit. Seresin?â
âYeah,â you said and Ben shook his head. âSeresin.â
âHuh,â Ben said and you found yourself.. on edge. Speaking of, where was Jake anyways? âThat.. surprises me. I guess I shouldâve known when I saw him-â
âYou saw him?â You asked and he nodded.Â
âYeah in the taproom-â
âSorry,â you barely excused yourself and headed in that direction. You managed to get through the turf grass to the taproom and stepped inside.Â
Just as littered with people as the outdoors, you scanned your eyes over the different faces and figures mingling. That was until you found him, talking to a blonde who was too close for your comfort.Â
Never once did you seriously consider this. You told yourself youâd rather not know what Jake did while deployed, or who he did. It wasnât your business, not really. This wasnât real!
So why did it hurt so much to see him let a woman stand that close, let her hand linger on him, let her look at him like she was? Like she wanted to steal him away and fuck him in the back of the truck he drove you two here in?
Too engrossed in the blonde and her figure, to your perspective, he didnât notice you. You slipped back outside and the nearest drink you could manage to get in your hand was quickly down your throat and then came another. As you held this one though, your hand trembled slightly.Â
Retreating outside felt like a necessary escape, that same unsettled feeling of guilt settled in. You didnât have a right to be upset. Jake wasnât yours, not really. He couldâve been fucking other women for the last year and it wasnât your business if that was the case.Â
Lost in your thoughts, a hand to your back startled you and you looked up to meet that all too familiar gaze.Â
âWoah- you ok, sunshine?â Jake asked and you bobbed your head in a nod. He eyed the drink in your hand, then down to the two he was holding onto.Â
âHowâd you get that?â He asked and you shrugged.Â
âTaproom.â
You could see his hesitation, that raised brow and quick glance over of your stance. Defensive.Â
Shit. Jake wasnât stupid. You must have come looking for him and saw him chatting to the complete stranger who had approached him.Â
If things werenât already tense enough, itâd be worse now. Jake didnât want to fold completely though.Â
âIs that so?â Jake asked in a measured tone.
You saw?Â
"Yup," you replied, maintaining a façade of nonchalance.
You saw. You saw him with someone else, and even though the rational part of your mind knew you had no right to feel upset, the emotional turmoil bubbled beneath the surface.
Jakeâs jaw was uncharacteristically tightened as he could only nod and let out a small grunt. When you did finish the drink in your hand, you took the one he had gotten you that now became your third drink of the evening.
Unfortunately, for you, Jake didnât leave your side for the rest of the night. Drink after drink, he was forced to watch you get sloshed, trying to mingle with your parents and keep you in check. He wouldn't classify you as a messy drunk, but at this moment you sure as hell were teetering on the line. You could barely hold a glass without a tremble in your hand.
What Jake didnât know was the tremble wasnât from your inebriation.
âMaybe we should slow down a bit,â he tried to tell you around 10 oâclock. He had hoped your parents were going to be wrapping up this thing, but turns out old people like to party too. âYou can barely catch your footing.â
âMaybe you should mind your business,â you said with a roll of your neck. âHubby.â
Jakeâs eyes narrowed at your tone. Those around the two glanced over with slight concern but more so annoyance. Again.. You were teetering on that fine line of becoming a pain in his ass tonight.
â(Y/N)-â he tried to grab your hand but you pulled away from him a few steps.
âIâm gonna go find someone who wonât lecture me.. Mmm.. Ben,â you said over your shoulder and Jake swore he saw God at that moment. A quick flash of him at least.
âExcuse me? Woah hey-â Jake said as he followed behind you as you walked along the perimeter of the turf grass, between the brewery and the taproom. He grabbed you by the arm and spun you back into him, careful to not be too forceful but luckily with a few drinks in ya, you were nimble. âDid you just say Ben? As in your ex Ben who played the clarinet?â
âSaxophone,â you corrected and Jake rolled his eyes. âYâknow heâs the only person to tell me he was surprised we got married?â
âThatâs because heâs an idiot,â Jake tried to say and you turned to face him with a scowl.
âYouâre an idiot,â you mumbled and Jake scoffed.
âSorry, what was that? I couldnât hear you,â he said as he leaned in with his ear and you pressed your finger into his chest.
âI bet you could hear that blonde,â you muttered and Jake hesitated.
âThatâs what this is about?â He asked and you shook your head no, taking a few steps back but he was quick to match each one. âThe chick in the taproom?â
âOh so you can hear,â you laughed and Jake nearly growled. Whatever escaped his throat was heavy and irritated. Youâd be lying to yourself if you said you didnât like it.
..Why?
âSo youâre drunk and jealous, is that it?â Jake asked as he towered over you. âIt was nothing.â
âIâm not drunk.. Or jealous,â you tried to argue but the way your eyes couldnât focus and the knot in your stomach told you otherwise, so you cleared your throat. âShe wanted you.â
âSunshine, even your mom wants me.â
âGross,â you said with a shake of your head, missing the way he grinned. âPlease donât ever say that again.â
âYou started it,â Jake said and couldnât help but laugh. But his laugh which normally was sweet to your ears only further annoyed you. His dumb laugh, dumb sandy hair, dumb perfect smile..
âDonât laugh at me,â you mumbled.
âThen stop being ridiculous,â Jake argued. âI would never dream of pickinâ up someone at your parents' party, which I came to with you.. You think that low of me?â
You hated that he was talking with reason, making sense. But it didnât ease that knot in your stomach that was screaming at you that he had liked the other womanâs attention.
âNo,â you finally admitted. âNever.â
âSo youâre not mad at me?â He pressed as he stepped closer, drawing your hands towards his chest and running his thumb over the back of your wrists.
Dumb smile, dumb eyes, dumb touch..
âNo,â you whispered. âNever mad at my aviator.â
âThatâs my girl,â he whispered and lifted your hands so he could place a quick kiss to your knuckles. While you felt a flush of warmth through your spine at his words, it was only then that Jake seemed to notice the true tremble in your hands and his grip tightened slightly.Â
âIâll text your dad and let him know weâre goinâ home,â Jake stated, more so than asked, you were mid-grumble when he shook his head. âHow many times do I have to keep telling you to stop fightinâ me?â
âOne more time,â you challenged and Jake felt his heart drop. He was sure you werenât aware of what you were doing to him but jesus fuck was he starting to lose his cool.
âCâmere,â Jake practically growled. He dipped low to hook his arm with ease under your ass and lifted you up and onto a shoulder. With a yelp you clutched onto his back and scowled at nothing as Jakeâs legs started back towards the parking lot.
âPut me down, Seresin,â you commanded weakly. Really, there was a tight knot in your lower belly. You felt him tighten his grip on your thighs.
âNo can do, Seresin,â he countered and you huffed.
With ease, Jake was able to walk you to his truck, with you thrown over his shoulder. You gave up fighting and let him carry you limp to the truck. With ease, he opened the passenger door and set you in the seat and even buckled you in.
âI put you down,â he said with a shit eating grin and you rolled your head away from looking at him.
âShut up,â you muttered and he laughed.
âOh come on, ease up lightweight,â Jake chuckled as he closed your passenger door. With him having to walk around the truck to get into the driver seat, it allowed you time to stew a little bit.
Why was Jake so.. Jake? Yâknow? Perfect. He could piss you off but then easily make you smile and laugh and be comfortable again. He just threw you over his shoulder to take you home - his home, your home. At the end of the day.. He was always there each night.
Maybe you were a little tipsy, because you donât even remember the drive. The only thing that shook you from your thoughts was your door being pulled open and Jake undoing your belt and watching you with a raised brow.
âDo I need to throw you over my shoulder again?â Jake asked. You shook your head.
âNope,â you declined, making sure the p popped in the air. Jake stepped aside and you slipped out the seat to the rocky ground, your bare feet meeting the dull rocks. Jake, in turn, grabbed your heels from the floor of the passenger side and followed you to the house, hand just at the small of your back to guide you up the steps.
Wordlessly you two went to your room and you were immediately letting your hair down from the clip that had held it up all night. Jake, as watchful as ever, took his sports coat off and tossed it onto the bench at the edge of the bed, and started to undo the buttons of his shirt.
âUnzip me?â You asked him and he was all too happy to do so. Jake stepped up behind you, one hand on your hip and the other finding the small zipper on your back and tugging it downwards
Fuckinâ hell. The more skin exposed to him, the more he realized there was no bra under this dress of sin. The fabric fell open as the zipper ended at your hips and he was reluctant to take his hand away. Very fucking reluctant.
âThanks,â you said breathlessly and he had to watch as you disappeared into the bathroom, holding the dress up by your chest. Jake ran a hand over his face. His patience and control was paper thin. How was he going to.. Handle this? Handle you? The thought of how bare you were, how easily he could get his hands on you was making him get hotter by the second.
Cooling his thoughts, the bathroom door reopened and there you were once again in one of his shirts, and it fell high on your thighs (those soft merciless thighs). You crawled into bed and stared at him and he felt uncomfortable under your gaze.
âWhat?â Jake asked, hating how his tone sounded nervous. You didnât notice.
âYou called me a lightweight,â you said and Jake nodded.
âBecause you are-â
âYou wanna talk about lightweight?â You asked him and Jake scowled slightly. âYou remember right?â
âCâmon donât bring it up,â Jake whined, having undone his dress shirt and tossed it onto the bench as well.
âYou got so fuckinâ hammered that night when my roommate turned you down,â you said before giggling. âAnd I mean.. it was brutal.â
âYeah and you were a mighty piece of work that night too,â Jake reminded you and you groaned softly, covering your face with your hands. âBeing a baby over your loser ex breaking up with you.â
âYou didnât seem to mind.â
It was a mumble but he heard you loud and clear. The night in question was never brought up, yet here you were.. being so fucking casual about it.Â
âMaybe not,â Jake admitted.
Fall, Sophomore year at UT. October 12th.Â
Reeling from your just two week fresh heartbreak thanks to Ben breaking up with you via text, you werenât totally surprised when Jake showed up at your apartment after days of radio silence. Unexpected but so appreciative of his efforts, you had done your best to welcome him with open arms.Â
And that led him right into your roommates arms. Or, atleast thatâs what he wanted that night. He was immediately smitten with the walking sex that was your roommate, and for some reason.. that bothered you.Â
She mentioned going to a party, he was all for it. And he fit right into the frat boy scene, getting to drink beer with the guys of the house and have women ogle at him all night long. Sure, heâd manage to catch you and here and there, but beyond that you were left to drink by yourself.Â
âThere you are,â your roommate managed to find you at some point in the night. You were a few beers in by then. âWhereâs your army guy?â
âNavy,â you corrected but she didnât react. âI dunno. Disappeared awhile ago.â
âHe asked me out,â your roommate admitted and something in you dropped. Probably just the alcohol. âDonât worry- I said no. I couldnât do that to you.â
âItâs none of my business,â you mumbled and sipped the lukewarm beer. Disgusting.Â
âOh come on, youâre totally into him,â she said and nudged you.Â
âWeâre just friends. I mean Iâve known him for like.. six years?â
âSo?â She asked with a raised brow. âHe drove all the way here from San Diego.. For you. If that doesnât scream heâs into you or desperately wants to fuck you then I donât know what does.â
Her remark stayed with you through the rest of the night. Finally getting tired of the smell of the frat house and the increasingly intoxicated crowd, you pushed your way through to find Jake, who was just finishing wiping the floor with a group playing pool.Â
âHey,â you said over the music, placing a hand to his arm. Jake turned to face you and grinned.Â
âThereâs my sunshine,â he said as he threw his arm around your shoulder. âMy favorite person.â
âYouâre drunk,â you commented and he chuckled.Â
âDoesnât change nothinâ,â Jake said and kissed the top of your head. âStill my favorite person.â
âOkay pilot, why donât we head back?â You asked and after some persuasion he agreed.Â
Getting Jake back to your place was a challenge in and of itself. He was chatty with anyone who walked past, it seemed like he was really laying into you as you walked through the campus, and he was just a handful. Jake never got like this.. But this trip so far was a lot of firsts.Â
When you managed to get him back to your place and through the front door, you both were a stumbling mess. Alcohol induced laughs and chatter flowed fine between you two. You eased him to sit on the couch and he sprawled out, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and looking you over.Â
âIâm gonna change,â you said and disappeared into your room. Stripping from your jeans and shirts, you slipped on some shorts and your fingers grazed over the new shirt you plucked from your closet. It was Benâs. Still, you slid it on and walked back into the living room and Jakeâs brows furrowed.
âOh come on.. youâre really gonna keep wearinâ his shit?â Jake asked as he stood, moving closer to you.
âItâs just a shirt,â you argued and he shook his head.
âTake it off.â
â..What?â You asked dumbfounded, but Jakeâs eyes.. they were dark and clouded, and so fucking hot.
Without another word, Jake lifted his shirt up and over his head, exposing his perfectly toned body underneath. His abs had abs, there was light hair over him that trailed low. And you meant low. Finally able to tear your eyes away to meet his gaze, he was watching you taking him in.
âTake it off,â he repeated, his voice low and intimidating.
You werenât sure what it was that made you obey but fuck did you carefully lift your shirt off, exposing your soft flesh underneath, only concealed by the old bra you were wearing. But Jake didnât seem to mind, his eyes lingering on your chest and the way it rose and fell with heavy breaths. Then, he handed over his shirt.
Taking it from him and putting your arms through and over your head, you looked down at the decal before looking up to meet his gaze.
âBetter,â he whispered.
There was a tension, a shock in the air as you both lingered before one another. You most definitely werenât confident enough to make the first move, so lucky for you - Jake was confident enough for the two of you.
âDo yâknow how fuckinâ stupid he is?â Jake asked as he closed the gap, his chest so close you swore it warmed you up. âGivingâ you up?â
âJake-â
âStop,â he whispered, his head dipping lower as he edged closer. âYouâre all I can think about. Even with all this distance between us you drive me fuckinâ wild.â
His fingers lightly traced a path along the curve of your jaw, leaving a trail of tingling sensation in their wake. With a gentle tilt of his head, and his dog tags hitting your chest, Jake captured your lips in a kiss that melted you.
It was slow, tantalizing. His lips moved against yours with a tender urgency, like if he stopped this would disappear. He was kissing you as if savoring the taste of something forbidden and sweet. His hands cupped your face, holding you in place while his tongue darted out over your lower lip, begging to be let in.
And you let him. Jakeâs tongue swirled with yours, eager to feel every bit of you he could, like he had been dreaming of devouring you for years. Your hands splayed across his chest, feeling every nook and cranny his chiseled front had to offer. And when your hands danced lower to the waistband of his jeans, an enticing growl escaped his throat. He broke the kiss, letting his lips linger with yours as he breathed you in, and you did just the same.
âFuck be careful,â he warned you but you shook your head. âYou donât know how long Iâve thought about this.â
âEnlighten me,â you whispered. A small smile broke out over his face and he took you up on the challenge. Picking you up, hands on your ass, he hoisted you up and you wrapped your arms around his neck, and legs around his waist. His arousal was evident as you felt him pressed against you.
Kissing along his jaw, Jake carried you with ease to your room, plopping you down on your flimsy full size mattress before climbing on top. One of his knees pushed your legs open, the other encased your side, and he was back to kissing you with nothing but hunger.
Neither of you could get a bearing, grasping at each other for anything you could get your hands on. Your fingers tugged on his hair, ghosted over his back and chest, even grabbed his ass when he grunted at. Jake, on the other hand, was feverishly putting his hands under your shirt, cupping your breasts over your bra before mumbling between your lips.
âThought about feeling your tits for so long,â he muttered against you and you nearly whined. âLet me see you , baby.â
He expertly was able to slip a hand behind your back, undoing the hook of your bra with ease. Now completely loosened, Jake lifted off the shirt he just made you put on (his shirt goddamn it) and your bra followed. Exposed to the chilled air, Jakeâs gaze was hungry, soaking in the sight of you. His fingers grazed the side of one of your breasts.
âSo fuckinâ beautiful,â he mumbled before leaning down to kiss your neck. His breath was hot, tingling you through your spine and you fought hard to not make a sound, really not wanting him to know how much he was affecting you. But this only seemed to stir him on, and he fully cupped your breast.
âNot gonna make a noise for me?â Jake muttered against your skin, rolling your nipple in between his fingers as he other hand went to your opposite breast. âI bet you sound so goddamn good.â
You wanted to fold badly, let him hear what was bubbling underneath. He nipped at your neck and your eyes fluttered shut, your breathing feeling like it was nonexistent. Everything about this was wrong, but he felt so so right.
Just as suddenly as you two started this, you both froze when the front door of the apartment opened, signaling your roommates return. Jakeâs hands stopped, his lips froze, and it was like all sober cognitive reasoning flooded both of you.
Jake and you never spoke of that night.
But tonight was the first mention of it in years. Jake and you were in a standoff, staring at one another with lingering tension and unanswered desire.
âMuch unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid.â â Fyodor Dostoevsky
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#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#jake seresin fic#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#top gun fic
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Femme Fatale Guide: Products & Services Worth The Save (or Saving On)
Fashion:
Socks (I love the HUE ones that come out to around $3 per pair)
Tights (another vote for HUE â around $10-13 dollars a pair and should last at least a season or two with proper care)
Layering tanks & tees
Underwear (buy them on a bulk deal â I love Skims' 3/$36 [on the pricier end here] â or getting luxury items on sale, especially pair from Natori or Hanky Panky [usually come up to around $10-$15 a pair]; Parade also has $6 underwear that's great quality for the price)
Trendy items
Costume jewelry (Mejuri, Aurate, and Justine Clenquet are great for the price; Catbird is the best in the game for a moderate-priced alternative to luxury jewelry in my opinion)
Beauty:
Cleanser
Facial Toner
Makeup Wipes
Acne Spot Treatment
Mascara
Brow Gel
Setting Powder/Spray
Shampoo & Conditioner
Body Wash
Body Scrubs
Hand/Body Lotion
Hand Soap
Vaseline (use it as a lip treatment, cuticles, dry skin patches, or as a hydrating eye cream)
Lip Balm (Palmers SPF 15 is my HG)
Makeup Sponges/Spoolies
Hair Ties
Home:
Lighting
Home Decor
Artwork (I have mostly Black & White photography from iCanvas and get so many compliments on them!)
Coffee Maker (a Black & Decker coffee maker or a French Press is all most people need)
Everyday Dishes & Glassware (I love Sweese, Smilatte, and Luigi Bormioli on Amazon)
Dishwasher-Safe Reusable Food Storage Bags/Snack Bags
Produce Saving Containers
Health & Wellness:
Deva Vitamins/Supplements
Fitness Youtube Workouts
Bulk-buying Oats, Beans, and Other Staple Foods
Frozen Fruits & Vegetables (when not in season, especially)
Listening to Podcasts via Youtube
TED Talks
Services:
Facials
Blowout
Dermaplaning
Teeth-Whitening
Mani-Pedi
Professional/Social:
Owning your full name social handles across platforms
Simple Investment Planning (Roth IRA, HSA, 401KÂ - anything involving index funds)
Get a great headshot (many colleges and universities offer their students/alumni headshots for free)
Cash-back & Travel-miles $0 Fee Credit Cards
#femmefatalevibe#girl talk#girl tips#girl advice#girl blogging#femme fatale#dark femininity#dark feminine energy#it girl#high value woman#dream girl#queen energy#female power#high value mindset#female excellence#the feminine urge#glow up#level up journey#high class#classy life#elegance#product recommendations#healthylifestyle#health & fitness#fashion and beauty#life advice#life tips#etiquette
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So those of you who have been following me may have noticed that I all but disappeared for about three months...well, that's because I've been planning to go to Japanese language school, and the wheels have really begun to start turning!!!!!!
I have been given the opportunity of my lifetime to be able to attend a Japanese language course at the International Study Institute in Tokyo's Shinjuku Ward. The course runs for a year, with the opportunity to extend it to two years, if my grades and money are sound [insert sound of children cheering here].
Being able to study Japanese locally and long-term has been a life goal of mine since I was fourteen. Though I'll probably never be able to fulfill my teenage dream of being an interpreter/translator for expats, this feels like the next best thing. Due to suffering from several comorbid chronic conditions that have majorly altered my life, most notably the beast known as systemic lupus erythematosus, I will probably never be able to seize another chance like this ever again. I won't be going in as a total novice, as I was able to take a year's worth of 1000-level Japanese language courses in collegeâŠbefore I had to drop outâŠâŠ Since then I've been self-studying and using language exchange apps for practice, but nothing will beat the experience of using it in the day-to-day.
At this point in time (January 2024), my first six months of tuition have already been paid for. I am currently in a quiet waiting period while I wait to get to the next steps of the Certificate of Eligibility/Student Visa process. Before that, though, I need to secure my flight and housing. For the sake of my health, safety, privacy and comfort, a sharehouse will not be an option; I will have to seek a private apartment. I am here today to request assistance with the aforementioned flight and initial housing costs. It's still too early to commit to either of those, but:
The average cost of flexible one-way flights from where I am to either of the two Tokyo metro airports (Haneda and Narita) is running around $1200
I am doing some preliminary apartment scouting and am hoping not to exceed $800 per month (I will be traveling with suitcases and will need to properly store them). The apartments I am looking at do not require a security deposit or key money, but will probably come with a guarantor fee.
Now because I'm not going over there through one of the more common avenues - through a university or a job - I have to do it myself. Real life has meant that I've had to dig into my bank balance a bit, and after paying for the first six months I'm a little under the 2 million yen (~$14k) threshold that Immigration likes to see for a year's study. I'm lucky enough in that I will at least have a regular source of (unearned) income, as well as a financial sponsor; it's just the bank balance, flight, and accommodation that are hanging me up. Right now I am setting the initial goal at $3000, but I expect to move those goalposts at least once. Any extra will go towards a flight home for the Christmas holidays in December. After that, it'll go towards paying down my credit cards as much as I can prior to leaving the United States.
I can provide my conditional letter of acceptance from ISI, as well as the school invoice and receipt of the bank transfer for the first six months of tuition upon request (identifying information redacted, of course).
Because there's still a couple of months until I'm set to fly out I put together a GoFundMe (now that's a name I haven't used in a while) to idly collect whatever help I can. At the very least I just need this post to circulate enough to eventually cast a wider net outside of Tungle.hell.
GoFundMe
If you can't use GFM, V3nmo and P4ypal are also options:
V3nmo: @/venus3palette
P4ypal: @/fantasytheater
Again: I'm not in that much of a hurry, and the situation isn't dire! Thank you for combing my wall of text!!!!
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Spring Fling
(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, Marcusâs 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 Emmaâs father, a man she says sheâs 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.Â
"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.Â
"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 wasnât 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. AndâŠ" 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."
"Holy shit, Em, you can see the Capitol from here."Â
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.Â
"How do we get in?" you ask.Â
"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.Â
"Hey, uh, Dad," Emma says, giving him a sheepish smile. "Been a while."
"It's been six years," the man says emphatically.Â
"Yeah."
You watch as Emma's father's fingers twitch toward her. "C-Can Iâ"Â
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.Â
"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.Â
"Hi," he says brightly, and his pained, heartfelt expression melts into an easy smile as he extends his hand to you. "Marcus."Â
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 manâs hand, trying not to trip over the syllables of your own name.
Marcusâs smile widens, and he repeats your name, which does nothing to quell the sudden burst of butterflies in your stomachâand 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.Â
"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 nerdây'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. IfâIf 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.Â
"Y-Yeah," Emma adds, nodding hesitantly. "That would be nice... Dad. Thanks."
âCâmon,â Marcus says, grabbing both Emmaâs bag and, before you can protest, yours. âCome 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.â
The two of you follow Marcus through the lobby and into the elevator. You canât help but keep stealing little glances at himâthe way his shoulders fill out the maroon henley heâs wearing over jeans, the way those shoulders taper down to narrow hips, the way heâs 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. Youâve known the man for five minutes, and you feel like youâre losing your mind. Itâs gonna be a long week if you donât pull it together.Â
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 friendâs dad, whose very presence seems to fluster you beyond all reason.
âI just have one spare room, hopefully you two donât mind sharingâŠ?â Marcus asks.
âThatâs fine,â Emma says good-naturedly.Â
âItâs just through here,â he says, walking past you. âIâll set your bags down in there and show you around.â
The room is clearly his workspaceâthereâs 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.
âSorry, itâs kind of an⊠all-purpose room,â Marcus says sheepishly. âBit cluttered.â
âI like it,â you murmur absentmindedly, still scanning the spines.
ââGardnerâs Art Through the Agesââ Emma reads, crinkling her nose. âHow many editions of this book do you have?â
Her father laughs. âItâs work stuff, mostly. Although thereâs a few thrillers here and there. And some classics.â 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. Youâre so⊠aware of him. You donât know if itâs because Marcus seems to naturally command every space heâs in or if thereâs something electric thatâs pulling you toward him, but either way, your entire body feels as though itâs on high alert.
A sharp buzzing makes you jump comically, making Emma snort.
âThatâll be the pizza,â Marcus announces. âBe right back.â
You glance over at Emma, who is still staring disinterestedly at the bookshelves. âItâs a nice place,â you say conversationally.Â
âMmmhm.â
âYou okay?â you ask softly.
âOh, yeah,â Emma scoffs, waving her hand. âJust been a while. Itâs weird. You know.â
âHe seems nice,â you say.
âHe is,â she remarks. âI told you he was. I just⊠donât know him very well. Like he said, I havenât seen him in six years.â
âMaybe this will be good, then,â you suggest. âGet to know him now that youâre an adult and all that.â
Emma shrugs. âMaybe.â
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.
âWhat does your dad do in DC?â
âOh, did I not tell you? Heâs in the FBI.â
You feel as though youâve swallowed your tongue, but before you can garble out a responseâsomething like, âMmmgnnbbllgffnhh?ââyou hear Marcus coming back.
âGet it while itâs hot!â he says cheerfully. âYou guys must be hungry after traveling all day.â
âOh wow, Dad, thatâs⊠a lot of pizza for three people,â Emma says, her eyebrows raising in surprise and confusion.
Sheâs rightâthere are five boxes sitting on the small kitchen island, along with several options of drink.
âI had no idea what either of you liked,â Marcus reasoned. âSo I got a few different options. Cheese, pepperoni, supreme, hawaiian, and some kind of vegan thing, just in case.â
âYou know, you could have just texted,â Emma remarks, at the same time that you whisper, âThank you.â
Marcus looks sheepish. âWanted to surprise you. Anyway, dig inâthereâs obviously a lot.â He laughs quietly to himself, grabbing three plates and setting them down on the counter. You grab three different kindsâsupreme, hawaiian, and the vegan option, out of curiosityâand sit on one of the barstools opposite Marcus. Emma grabs two cheeses and sits down next to you.
âSo,â he says after a few minutes of surprisingly companionable silence. âI know Emma is pre-Law. Are you pre-Law too?â he asks, looking at you with a friendly, curious smile.Â
âMmmhmm,â you nod, tight-lipped. You hate this conversationâthe college-age version of âWhat do you want to be when you grow up?â 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 youâre asked, you have absofuckinglutely no idea.Â
âWhat kind of law do you want to go into?â 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.Â
âWhat about you?â he asks when sheâs done, turning to you.
You gulp.Â
âI donâtâI donât really know. Not yet, anyways.â You brace yourself for the judgmental eyebrow raise, the well-meaning advice.
âThatâs okay,â Marcus says, smiling. âNo one says you have to have it figured out at⊠how old are you?â
âT-Twenty,â you mumble, feeling more naive and inexperienced than you ever have before.
âNah,â Marcus says, shaking his head playfully. âNo one has it figured out at twenty. And the people who think they do? They change.â
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.
âAnyway,â Marcus says, casually waving a slice of pepperoni as he talks, âI mostly work with criminal lawyers. If thatâs something youâre interested in, I could arrange a chat with someone this week.â
âOh,â you say, too stunned to say anything else. âYeah, maybe.â
Marcus shrugs good-naturedly. âThink about it,â he says, giving you another crooked grin. His eyes crinkle around the edges when he smiles, and it makes your stomach do somersaults.Â
âYeah,â 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 Marcusâs eyes glitter with amusement as you frantically reach for a napkin.Â
âSo you do, um⊠FBI stuff?â you ask him clumsily, trying to break the silence.
âYep. FBI Stuff. Says it on my badge and everything.â
âWhy do you have a bunch of art books?â
âI lead an international task force dealing with art crimes,â he answers patiently.Â
âWhat constitutes an art crime?â Emma asks, her mouth full.
âTheft,â Marcus lists, âforgeries, black market sales, dealing in antiquities, looting of archaeological sitesâŠâ
âOh, wow,â you breathe, a dopey smile on your face. Emma shoots you a funny look.
âSo itâs like, nerdy FBI stuff,â she says.
âThe nerdiest,â Marcus agrees, smiling.
âDo you still have a gun and stuff?â
âI do,â Marcus says carefully, frowning slightly. âItâs in the safe for the week, though, while youâre here.â
Your stomach flip-flops at the mental image of Emmaâs dad holding a gun, those warm brown eyes dark with focus as he stares down⊠an art thief. Or something.Â
âEnough about your old man,â he says with a self-deprecating chuckle. âWhat are you two looking to do tomorrow on your first day in DC?â
âThink weâll hit the museums,â Emma says. âGet 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!â
âDo you want my advice?â Marcus asks, and you both nod. âItâs supposed to be unseasonably warm tomorrow, and sunny. Iâd do the monument tour or the zoo tomorrow if I were you. Save the indoor stuff for the end of the week, because itâs supposed to rain.â
âMonuments it is!â Emma exclaims. âHey, can I⊠can I use your shower? I feel kinda gross from the travel day.â
âAbsolutely.â 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 heâd bought, the spare toothbrushes just in case⊠Eventually he returns, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking hesitant again.
âThank you,â you say again. âYou went through a lot of trouble, andââ
âItâs no trouble,â Marcus says quickly. âNo trouble at all. IâI have to admit I was surprised when Emâwhen she called, but IâmâIâm more than happy to host you two for the week. Itâs no trouble at all,â he repeats.
âOkay,â you say dumbly. Youâre 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.Â
"You alright?"Â
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 tellâyou can tell that he knows how flustered you are in front of him.Â
You nod rapidly up and down in response, not trusting yourself to answer. Â
"Good. Had enough pizza?"
"Mmhmm."
"Anything else to drink?" he asks.Â
"Got any beer?" you ask with a quirk of your eyebrow.
"You told me you were twenty," Marcus reminds you.Â
"Oh."
"And I work for law enforcement," he says gravely.Â
Oh.Â
"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, Iâ"
As you continue to frantically backtrack, you realize that Marcusâs shoulders are shaking with laughter.Â
"Oh, you're funny. Real funny. Ha. Ha."
"Next you'll be saying I should quit my day job," he says, his eyes sparkling.Â
"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.Â
"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.Â
"You're on fire, tonight," you say, rolling your eyes.Â
"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 seenâ" his eyes flick to the bathroom door, and he looks troubled for a moment.Â
"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.Â
"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.Â
"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.Â
When you reach the bathroom door, you turn around againâyou can't help yourself.Â
He's still looking at you.Â
"Get up!
"Get up!"
"GETâ"
"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.Â
"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.Â
"Well, it's Sunday, so⊠grocery shopping," Marcus says. "Any special requests?"
"Filet mignon," Emma says.Â
"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 mindâand clearly, something is.Â
"What is it, Emmie?" Marcus asks softly.
"Do you remember that one time that we came to your family's for ChristmasâI think I was maybe twelve?âand you madeâŠ"
"...Tamales?" Marcus asks, his eyebrows shooting upward.Â
"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 inâŠ" 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 directionâwhich might make your heart stop. "You girls stay safe. Text if you need anything."
Marcus was rightâthe weather is beautiful today. Itâs perfect for walking endlessly from monument to monument, which you do all morning. You try to stay focusedâthoughtfully reading the names on the Vietnam War Memorial and not thinking about Emmaâs 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.
Heâs becoming a bit of an obsession for you, you can admit it. You want to know everything about himâwhat 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 heâs barely seen his daughterâwho he very clearly cares deeply forâŠ
As you walk around the Washington Monument, you canât stand it any longer.Â
âSooooo. It seems like things are going well between you and your dad,â you say conversationally.
âHow do you mean?âÂ
âLess awkward, I guess.â
âItâs not that we donât get along,â Emma says with a shrug. âWe always used to. Like I said, I always thought he was nice. My momâŠâÂ
âShe didnât like him?â
âShe didnât want to be around him. I donât 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.â
âHuh.â You stare in silence at the large white obelisk. âI wonder what happened.â
âI thought about asking my mom,â Emma says. âLots of times, but I never got up the courage.â
âYou should ask him,â you say quietly. âI get the feeling he needs to tell the story.â
Emma gives you a funny look. âThatâs a weird thing to say.â
You shrug. âIâm weird.â
âFair.â
The two of you walk until it feels as though your feet are going to fall off.Â
âMy feet are going to fall off,â you announce. âSurely there are no more monuments in the entirety of Washington, DC.â
âWeâve still got the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.â
âUggghhhh, how important can he be? Heâs unknown.â
âThis was your idea,â Emma points out. âGo to DC for spring break! Stay with my best friendâs estranged dad! Walk around and see all the monuments and shit!â
âToo many steps,â you groan. âThey should all be concentrated in one square mile of land.â
âOne more,â Emma promises. âAnd then spaghetti.â
âAnd laying on the couch watching TV,â you counter.
âAnd laying on the couch watching TV,â Emma agrees. â...And tomorrow we go to the zoo.â
âNo!â
Marcus chuckles as you stumble into his condo just after six. You immediately collapse onto the couch with an exaggerated groan.
âIâm staying right here for the rest of the week,â you announce.
âItâs been one day,â Marcus points out.Â
âMy phoneâs step counter measures over thirty thousand steps,â you mumble. âIâm done.â
âThatâs a lot,â Marcus concedes. âHopefully that means the two of you are hungry this evening.â
âFucking starving,â Emma agrees, crashing onto the couch herself and nearly colliding with you as she does so.Â
âWell, since everyone is so tired,â Marcus says, the playfulness evident in his voice, âIâll make spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Tamales are a group effort, so you two better be ready to work for your food.â
âI shall endeavor to do so,â Emma remarks with an exaggerated accent, causing you to laugh giddily.Â
While Emmaâs eyes are closed, you take advantage, watching Marcusâstill with that same fitted white shirtâin 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.Â
âI know theyâre frozen,â he admits, speaking of the meatballs, âbut they always taste the same to me anyway.â
âI canât wait,â you say, truthfully. âItâs been a long day.â
As if to demonstrate the fact, a loud snore emanates from the body next to you, making you grin.
âIâm glad you guys came,â Marcus says softly. âI donât often have the opportunity to cook for⊠more than one.â
âNo girlfriend?â you ask conversationally.Â
Marcus laughs. âIâm⊠in between things, I suppose.â
âIn between,â you parrot with a laugh. âHow long have you been âin between?ââ
He huffs. âToo long,â he murmurs.Â
âHow come?â you ask quietly.
Marcus frowns, thinking. âI dunno. No one recently has been⊠exactly what Iâm looking for.â
âAnd what are you looking for?â you ask breathlessly.
âSpaghetti,â Emma mumbles from the couch.
âSpaghetti,â Marcus repeats, giving me a slightly melancholy smile. âExactly. Come and get it, you two.â
Emma stirs, stumbling into the kitchen where two giant bowls of spaghetti and meatballs are awaiting the two of you.
âHoly shit,â she remarks. âThanks for this.â
âOf course,â Marcus says. âI would never agree for you to stay and then notâŠâ he trails off, unsure of himself.
Youâre starting to realize that the bulk of Marcusâs most emotional statements go unsaid. I would ever agree for you to stay and then not take care of you, is what he hadnât said.Â
âStill doing the zoo tomorrow?â he asks, changing the subject, as always.
âYup,â Emma answers.
He huffs, smiling wistfully. âBeen ages since Iâve been to a zoo.â
âDâyou wanna go?â you ask, before you can determine that itâs a bad idea.
Marcus looks at you, indecisive for a few seconds before he seemingly comes to his senses. âNah,â he says, grinning. âYou two have fun.â
âAre you sure?â Emma asks. âApparently thereâs a new panda baby.â
âThatâs a hard bargain,â he admits.
âYou should come with,â Emma decides. âIt could be fun.â
âAll right,â Marcus agrees hesitantly.
âItâs Monday,â you point out. âDonât you have to work?â
âIâll call off,â he answers quickly. âNot everyday oneâs daughter is in town for an impromptu zoo trip.â
âLook at the little lad,â Emma gushes.Â
âThe what?â Marcus asks.Â
The three of you are staring at the panda enclosure, watching the newest addition to the zoo cause chaos.
âThe chonky boi,â you agree.
âI have no idea what you two are saying,â Marcus admits.Â
âThe baby panda is cute,â Emma offers.Â
âThat I can agree on,â he decides.
The three of you, youâve 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 youâre going to be a good friend to Emmaâand you areâyouâre going to have to put this silly crush aside and accept the fact that heâs a package deal with your best friend.Â
That doesnât stop the way the man looks at you, though.Â
You think youâre 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 youâre with him, though, itâs hard to deny that he seems to look at you just a tiny bit longer.
You start to notice it all dayâwhen youâre looking at the exhibits, Marcus is looking at you.Â
Heâs watching your reaction to themâsmiling when you smile, laughing when you laugh. You canât parse out the meaning behind his actionsâdoes it mean something? If so, what? What does it mean?Â
You canât admit the truth to yourself until youâre in the insect house. Emma is giddy with interest, and you⊠are trying.Â
âAre you okay?â Marcus asks softly in your earâand you try not to shiver.
âGreat,â you squeak. âJust donât love the bird-eating spider.â
âI donât like them either,â he confesses with a smile. âDo you need to leave?â
âIdunno,â you mumble, slurring the words together.Â
âEmmie,â Marcus announces, âweâre going to take a little break, okay?â
âMmm.âÂ
You and Marcus escape into the bright sunshine, and you let out an awkward laugh. âI canât believe they have some of them loose in thereâwithout glass or anything!â
âIâm not going back in that building,â Marcus agrees, laughing with you. âThe giant orb weaver was the last straw.â
âThat was awful,â you say, nodding.
âCome to think of it, I might be more of a baby panda guy, myself.â
âIâll take the snakes over this,â you agree.
You sit down on a nearby bench, still giggling together as you wait for Emma.
âIs it weird if I say Iâm glad you came?â you ask quietly.
âIâm glad I came, too,â Marcus says beside you.
âI thinkââ you begin, but Emma emerges from the insect house, grinning ear to ear.
âYou think⊠what?â Marcus asks, but you shake your head and shrug.
âI dunno,â you mumble. âI just⊠think.â
âHey, wimps,â Emma shouts. âThey let me touch the tarantula.â
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 itâs been replaced by a thick cloud of tension between the two of you.Â
Thereâs 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, youâd say, if you were in a mind to be romantic, except⊠it canât be. He must be nearly fortyâand almost twice your age. Thereâs nothing you have that he would wantânothing 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 glancesâas if the two of you are sharing some type of inside joke that youâve had for yearsâkeeps you flustered and breathless throughout most of the evening.
The glass of wine he offers when you arrive home doesnât help, either. You watch the red liquid swirl in your glass and wonder how it would taste from his lips, instead. And, when youâve 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 Marcusâs eyes meet yours has you feeling dizzy and enraptured in equal parts.Â
When he locks eyes with you over the rim of his own glass as he drains the last sip, you freeze, afraid that youâd been caught outâthat 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 heâs going to bedâ âBack to work for me, tomorrowââand leaves you in the living room alone with Emma, trying not to look as though youâre checking out her dadâs butt as he leaves the room.Â
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.Â
âIâm going to preface this by saying Iâm not very good at making these,â he says with a laugh as he struggles with the dough. âMy grandma only made these on special occasions, and Iâve done it myself approximately two times without her.â
âWell, the good news is that Iâve got no frame of reference,â you tell him. âSo as long as theyâre edible, theyâll be the best tamales Iâve ever had.â
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.
âEmmie, do you want to do the dough or the filling?â he asks.Â
âFilling.â
âThat leaves you with the fun part,â Marcus says to you with a playful wink. âYou get to spread the dough out on the corn husks like thisââ he frowns as a glob of dough gets stuck to the spatula. âI told you Iâm not very good at this. But you get the idea.â
You really donât; 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.Â
âThis is not going very well,â you mumble.Â
Marcus looks up from the tamale heâs currently folding and laughs joyfully. âThatâs part of the process.â
âI really donât feel like it is,â you shoot back. âItâs sticking to everything but the corn husks.â
âHere,â Marcus chuckles. And suddenly, heâs right behind you, his chest nearly touching your back as he reaches around you to gently guide your hands himself. âLike this.â
You canât possibly focus on your task, not when you have to remind your body to keep breathing while Marcusâs hands are on you. Your eyes stare unseeingly down at the corn husk until he releases you.Â
âBetter?â he asks.
âMmhm,â you hum, abnormally high-pitched.
âYouâve got some on your cheek,â he remarks with a soft smile. His thumb gently swipes across it, catching the stray dough and wiping it on a towel.Â
In the end, the tamales are hideous, but they taste incredible. They might be the best meal youâve ever hadâor maybe itâs 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.
âItâs in black and white,â Emma remarks, wrinkling her nose.
âDouble Indemnity? Itâs a classic!â Marcus protests.
âOld movies are always so boring,â Emma says.Â
âItâs not boring,â he pouts. âThe 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.â
âThatâs wild,â you laugh. âHow have you seen this before?â
âIâve always been told Iâm an old soul.â
âAre you sure youâre not just old?â Emma teases.
âHush. Watch the movie.â
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 youâre no longer upright on the back of the couch.
Youâre drooling on Marcusâs shoulder.
You startle, sitting back up with a frantic gasp and wiping your mouth in horror.
âShh,â Marcus whispers, placing a calming hand on your forearm. âEmma fell asleep, too.â
âFuck. Iâm sorry,â you babble, taking in the little wet spot on his shirt.
âHey, itâs okay,â he assures softly. âYouâre tired. You needed the sleep.â
âStill,â you say. âI didnât mean toâŠâ you trail off awkwardly.Â
âItâs okay,â Marcus repeats, even quieter still. His hand still rests on your forearm, his thumb subtly moving back and forth across your skin.Â
Neither of you speak for what seems like an eternity, until finally, he breaks the spell.
âShould go to bed,â he murmurs. âIâll wake up Emma. Go get some rest.â
âMarcus,â you whisper shakily.
âGo,â he whispers back.Â
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 Emmaâs hair back from her forehead as he rouses her from the couch. Thereâs 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 lonelyâdoes he have friends outside of work, you wonder? Does he ever date?Â
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.Â
The next morning, you feel as though you could cut the tension between you and Marcus with a knife. Thereâs something thereâand 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.Â
âWhere are you off to today?â he comments lightly.
âSmithsonian,â Emma answers.Â
âSounds fun. Iâve got a deposition this afternoon thatâs probably going to run late, so go ahead and grab something for dinner while youâre out. Iâm not sure when Iâll be home.â
The only time Marcusâs 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.
Itâs 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.
âWhatâs first?â Emma asks. âNatural History or Air and Space?â
You put Marcus out of your mind for most of the day, although heâs never far away; youâre 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, heâs 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. Itâs nearly seven when Marcus finally gets home, opening the door and greeting the two of you with a tired smile and a heavy sigh.
âHow did it go?â Emma asks.
âShit,â he answers, shooting her a crooked grin. âBut Iâve got leftover tamales to look forward to, so the day is looking up.â
You watch another movieâEmmaâs choice this time, and something a bit more current. You donât fall asleep this time; you canât, 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 againâand 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 itâfeel the elevated warmth of your skin from where heâs sitting. You wonder if he can tell how much he affects you.Â
When the movie ends, you can barely meet his eyes as you bid him goodnight, following Emma to your room. You canât turn around to see if heâs watching you; you canât stand another glance at that deep, burning gaze of his.Â
Sleep evades you. Youâre too hot, so you kick off the covers. Then youâre 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: Marcusâs 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. Youâre dripping for him, and he doesnât even know it.Â
No one has ever done this to you, but he has. And he hasnât even touched you.Â
You wonder if heâd be bothered by the fact that you arenât exactly sure what youâre doing in that department. You wonder if heâd be put off by your inexperience, or if heâd be happy to guide you in the act of pleasure.Â
Youâve 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 didnât feel like anything to you. Not really. No one has ever made you cumâjust 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.Â
Your legs shift, rubbing your thighs against each other as you try to find a more comfortable position.
You canât find one.
Eventually, you give upâgetting 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.
âSorry,â he says apologetically. âCouldnât sleep, so I was⊠catching up on work.â
The mirror image of a popular news site reflects through the glass picture frame behind the couch, exposing the tiny lie.
âYeah, me neither,â you admit quietly. âThought Iâd sit out here for a while and see if that helps, but⊠sorry, Iâll leave you to it.â You make to turn back, to retreat to the room again, but Marcus speaks softly behind you.
âCome sit,â he says. âI donât mind.â
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.Â
âSo, are you liking DC so far?â he asks.
âYeah,â you answer eagerly. âIâm having a great time. Iâll⊠Iâll be sad to leave,â you admit. âIs that weird?â
âItâs weird if youâre talking about missing the Washington Monument,â Marcus teases. âOr the traffic.â
âIâm talking about the metro, obviously,â you joke. âThe rest of the country could stand for some public transit options.â
âIâm not sure they should be taking their cues from DC,â he chuckles.Â
âPssh, I like it.â
âThe novelty wears off, believe me.â
You lapse into silence again. Youâre sitting close enough to Marcus that you can feel the warmth from his skin, even though you arenât touching. You want to sink into him, to have him envelop you, consume you.
You feel yourself unconsciously shifting closer to him.Â
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.Â
You lick your lips, and his breath catches in his throat.
âI wasnât talking about the metro,â you say breathlessly.Â
âI know.â
And suddenly, his lips are on yours.Â
Itâs not fast, not rushed or frantic; he doesnât surge forward to take you. Itâs 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.Â
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.
âOh, shit,â he murmurs. âShit, we⊠we shouldnât.â
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.Â
Marcus breaks the kiss again, but instead of pulling back to give you more reasons why you canât, this time he kisses a path across your cheek and down your neck. Youâve 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.Â
âFuck,â Marcus whispers. âSo sweet, honey.â
You whimper at the term of endearment as Marcus gently starts to shift positions, turning and guiding you down onto the couch, just as youâd imagined.Â
Now that youâre 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.Â
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 thatâs already gathered there.Â
âShit,â Marcus hisses softly, reverently. âYouâre so wet. How are you so wet?â
âYou,â you answer earnestly, staring up at him with wide eyes.Â
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.Â
âSo responsive,â he murmurs playfully. âIâve barely touched you.â 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.Â
âHoney,â he whispers disbelievingly as he feels you start to tighten around him. âAlready?â
âIââÂ
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.
âWow,â you murmur. âHoly shit, that was amazing.â
Marcus pulls back and gives you a funny look. âWhatâs going on?â he asks, frowning slightly.
âHehâyouâre going to laugh,â you say, giving him an awkward grimace.Â
He raises his eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.Â
âIâveâkind of never done this before,â you admit, pressing your lips together sheepishly.Â
âOh shit,â Marcus breathes, sitting up fully as his eyes frantically sweep over you. âOh, honeyâno. I canâtâwe canât do this.â
âWhy?â you ask, wincing internally at how whiny it comes out.
âIt canâtâit shouldnât be me,â he says softly. âThatâs more than I deserve to take.â
âYouâre not taking anything,â you protest. âIâI want it to be you.â
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.
âI donât want it to be some boy at a frat party back home,â you tell him. âI want you. I want it to feel good. Please?â
Marcusâs 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.Â
âIâm not going to let your first time be a quick fuck on my couch,â he says quietly and resolute. âIf weâre going to do this, weâre going to bed.â
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.Â
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.Â
âCâmere, beautiful,â 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.Â
âI need you to tell me if you donât want to do this,â he says softly in your ear.
âI wantââ
âI know, I know,â Marcus interrupts. âI want you to tell me if that changes.â
He gently guides you onto his bed, one hand on the small of your back to keep you from going too fast.Â
âI wanna know what you like,â he murmurs as he hovers over you again, his hand coming up underneath the thin material of your top. âI wanna know what you donât like.âÂ
âIâI donât really knowââ
âI know,â Marcus grins wolfishly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. âThatâs the idea.â
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. âI get to find out what you like,â he says. He circles one areola with the tip of his finger, making you shiver. âAnd I get to be the first to do it.â
He gently drags the pad of his finger across the little bud of your nipple, and you gasp for him as if youâd hit a live wire.Â
âIâm gonna take a guess and say you liked that,â he teases.Â
âMarcus,â you whine.Â
âShh,â he whispers again, just before his mouth engulfs your nipple. Your hand darts out unconsciously, tangling in the hair on the back of Marcusâs neck as you squirm under his hot tongue. You canât 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.
âSo⊠fucking⊠responsive,â 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 waitsâeyes flicking up to yours to gauge your reaction.Â
âCan I taste you?â he asks quietly.
âI-If you want,â you laugh shakily.Â
âIf I want?â he parrots disbelievingly. âYouâre saying that like itâs not a givenâlike I havenât been thinking of burying my tongue in that sweet little pussy all night. If I want,â he chuckles to himself again, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs. âI 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.â
Youâre bare before him, but you donât 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.Â
You arenât sure who groans louder at the first touch of his tongue through your folds.Â
Marcus makes a pained noise in his throat before murmuring, âSo sweet, honeyâfuck, youâre so sweet.â
His tongue is delicate, but precise; he flicks it back and forth against your clit, then dips down to lap at your entrance until youâre trembling for him. Heâs 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, youâre dangling on the precipice, your hips locking into place as you start to reach the point of no return.Â
âIâIââ 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 youâre boneless.Â
âYou squeeze me so hard,â he croons. âCan you feel that? Youâre so tight around my tongue.â
âShitâŠâ you murmur. Youâre too fucked-out to say anything else.Â
âGonna have to open you up a bit with my fingers,â he says softly. âSo I donât hurt you.â
You look up at him with half-lidded eyes. Heâs still clothedâwearing sweatpants and a shirt, while youâre completely naked, and you frown slightly at the disparity.
âEverything okay?â Marcus asks, seeing your expression.Â
âCanâCan I see you? Youâre so⊠clothed,â you say with a little pout.Â
He laughs, smiling widely so that the corners of his eyes crinkle, and your heart soars.Â
âOf course,â he agrees, stripping off his shirt. âOf course.â
You raise up on one elbow, gazing up at Marcusâs broad chest, the light smattering of hair, and the soft swell of his belly. You canât 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.Â
âThese, too?â he asks with a teasing chuckle, smiling wider when you nod eagerly.Â
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 youâre rewarded with a little âhnnnggâ of pleasure and surprise as you touch him.Â
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.
âF-Fuck,â Marcus muttters. âCanât do that too much, honey, or Iâm gonna lose it before we even get started.â
âI like it,â you say with a little giggle. âI never realized they were so⊠soft.â
Marcus makes a broken, choked sound. âJesus. Youâre gonna be the death of me.âÂ
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 whimperâyou're already so full.Â
"Little bit more," Marcus murmurs. "Doing so well for meâfuckâso tight."
He gently starts to slide a third into you, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit to offer some relief.
âIs it greedy if I say I want you to cum for me again?â he asks softly. âI want to feel it again. Can you do that for me?â
You nod dazedlyâwanting to do anything, everything this man asks as long as he keeps making you feel like this.Â
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.Â
âGotta stay quiet for me,â he whispers against your lips.Â
âS-Sorry.â
âNo, shh, donât be sorry,â he murmurs. âI wish you could be loud. Wish I could make you scream for me. Justâfuck, honey, youâre right there, arenât you? I can feel you squeezing meâfuck, you get so wet. Give me one more. One more, and Iâll give you my cock. Thatâs it, thatâsâyesââÂ
Marcus breaks off on a groan as you clamp down on his fingers. Itâs so much, youâre so full, and you buck against his hand, your lower back rising up off of the bed as he pulls it from you.Â
You slump back down, breathing heavily, as he carefully withdraws his fingers.Â
âHey,â he says quietly, trying to get your attention. âHey, I should have asked this sooner, butâare you on birth control? Do you want me to use a condom?â
âI-Iâm on the pill,â you tell him. âIf you⊠you know, if you didnât want to. That would beâIâd like that.â
âThatâs perfect,â he whispers, giving you a tender kiss. âIâd like that, too.â He pauses, and mutters a soft curse under his breath. âI wish I had some lube,â he remarks. âJust to be sure I donât hurt you.â
You watch as he spits on his cock and takes himself in hand.Â
âThis will have to do, though,â he says as he slicks it over his cock and crawls over you. âAnd Iâll just go slow.â
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 doesnât lean down to kiss youâno, he seems to want to watch your reaction as the tip of his cock notches at your entrance.Â
âDonât want to hurt you,â he whispers again.
âYou could never hurt me,â you say confidently, and you watch as his lips part in surprise. âMarcusââ you add, as you shift your hips impatiently. ââjust do it.â
Your eyes widen as you feel him push into you, his girth splitting you open. It canât be much bigger than three of his thick fingers, but still, it just feels like more. Itâs longer, certainly; he keeps pushing in, and even when youâre sure heâs reached the end, thereâs still more.Â
âOh wow,â you hear yourself murmuring again and again. âOh, Marcus.âÂ
âI know,â he returns, kissing your cheekbone, your forehead, your nose, and then finally, your lips. âI know, honey.â
He starts to rock his hips, slowly undulating them, letting his cock drag back and forth against your walls. It feels incredibleâyou never imagined how fucking good this would feelâand you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that itâs because itâs him. Itâs Marcusâa man youâve admittedly only known for a few days, but you feel as though you know him alreadyâand you trust him completely.Â
âDoes it hurt at all?â he rumbles softly in your ear.
âNo,â you answer emphatically. âIt feelsâholy shit.â
Marcus laughs breathlessly. âYeah?â
âYeah. Canâcan we do this again?â
He chuckles. âWeâre currently doing this.â
âI already want it again.â
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.
âFeels so good,â he murmurs. âIâm not gonna last, not when you feel like this.â
âLike how?â you ask, smiling widely.Â
âSo fucking tight,â Marcus groans. âAnd wet, and hot, andââ he brings his thumb to your clit and starts to rub little circles around it. âI need you to cum again,â he says. âFuck, youâyou feel too good, honey, Iâm not gonna last.â
âIâI donât know if I can,â you murmur.Â
âPlease,â he says, a hint of desperation in his tone. âPlease, baby, youâve gotta do this one last thing for me. Let me feel it, let me make you feel good. Let meâlet meââ
Your mouth falls open as you feel it wash over you. This is better than anything youâve ever felt before, any relief youâve been able to seek with your fingersâthe drag of his cock along your walls only serves to prolong your pleasure, making each little aftershock feel like a new wave of pleasure.Â
âOh, fuck,â Marcus groans. âFuck.â 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.Â
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.
âWas this a bad idea?â you ask quietly as you trace little shapes on his chest.
Marcus huffs a laugh. âProbably,â he answers.
âI donât care,â you say resolutely, causing his hold on you to tighten. â...Do you regret it?â you ask, feeling unsure of yourself again.
âNo,â Marcus says immediately. âNo. I was drawn to you from the beginning. Iâm sorry, IâI should have tried harder to prevent this, butâŠâ
âI felt it, too,â you murmur. âMaybe we werenât meant to prevent it.â
The two of you bask in the afterglow, reveling in the feel of your bodies pressed together. You canât help but think of how tender, how loving he isânot just with you, but with Emma.
âCan I ask a personal question?â you ask, breaking the silence.
Marcus shrugs. âSure.â
âThis is probably weird to be thinking about right now, but⊠why does Emmaâs mom not want you around?â
 Marcus sighs, his lips pressing into your foreheadânot really a kiss, just a caress of your hairline with his mouth.
âThat story doesnât exactly paint me in the best light.â
âI want to know. I just⊠donât understand.â
âWhat donât you understand?â he asks.
âYouâre⊠youâre such a good dadâa good man. I donât understand how her mom wanted nothing to do with you. I just donât get it.â
Marcus nods, pressing his lips together. âI wasnât always a good man,â he says quietly. âI tried to do the best I could for the both of themâfor Emma and her momâbut Iâm afraid I fell very short, in the beginning.â
âWhat happened?â
âWe were in college when we found out she was pregnant,â Marcus says with a sigh. âShe was nineteen, I was almost twenty-one. We hadnât been together long; maybe a couple of months. She was terrified, of courseâand so was I, but never told her that. I asked her to marry me because I thought it was the right thing to do.â
âDid you love her?â
âI cared for her, very much so. And even if we werenât quite right for each other, knowingââ Marcus swallows thickly, ââknowing 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.â
âBut not now?â
Marcus huffs softly. âI know a little better, now.â
âWhat happened?â you ask, tracing the line of his collarbone with the tip of your finger. âWhat did you do?â
âWell, the first thing I did was drop out of art school,â he says with a little laugh. âDidnât think it would pay the bills, especially not with a wife and a baby.â
âYou were an artist?â you ask, surprised.
âWanted to be,â he chuckled. âAt 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.â His eyes are far away, a small smile on his face as he remembers. âAnd she was perfect. And I remember thinking, all the struggling, all the hardship, all the times Denise and I didnât get along⊠it would be worth it, in the end. No matter what happened; because I had her.â
You swallow past the lump in your throat. âWhat went wrong?â
âNothing 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 werenât 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 didnât workâand while I might have been blind to it at the time, Denise wasnât. When Emma was barely even two, she filed for divorce, and Iââ he sighs heavily again. âI went a little off the rails.â
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 donât ask how, you just wait patiently for him to continue.
âI didnât want to be divorced at twenty-three. This wasnâtâit wasnât the life I had expected for myself, not what I would have chosen, but because I had Emma, I didnât want anything else. I always knew I would want a family, and so what if it happened⊠a little out of order?â
âWhat did you do?â you whispered.
âI tried to convince her to change her mind. She took Emma and went to live with her parents, and Iâd call them every day, asking to talk to her. I wanted to persuade herâI 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.
âWhen she never returned my calls, I started stopping by,â he confesses, his voice even quieter. âTheyâd always tell me she was out, so I started showing up at odd hours, trying to⊠trying to just catch her one timeâI thought if I explained that she could do whatever she wanted, as long as we could just stay together and raise Emma, sheâd 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.
âAnyway, the court didnât look very kindly on what looked to everyone involved like stalking behavior, and Denise was afforded full custody.â
âM-Marcus,â you murmur, unable to help the water gathering at the corners of your eyes.Â
âBroke my heart,â he whispers, his voice full of emotion. âAnd 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, Iâve had twenty years to come to terms with that, now.â
âHow did you finally⊠come to face all of that?â you ask quietly.
âTherapy,â Marcus says with a genuine laugh. âAnd that is another story for another time.â
âGod, what else happened to you?â
âNothing,â he chuckles, âjust another relationship that I fought way too hard for.â He playfully runs his finger down the bridge of your nose before tilting your chin upward for a soft kiss. âAnd you,â he murmurs, âneed to go back to bed.â
Your emotions still running on high alert after Marcusâs emotional confession of his past, you surge forward and throw your arms around his neck.Â
âIâm sorry,â you whisper.Â
âIâm okay,â he promises. âIt was a long time ago.â
âYou should tell Emma,â you say softly. âShe never knew why her mom didnât want you around.â
âNot really something you want to tell your daughter,â he says with a sad smile. âThat you basically stalked her mom.â
âSheâs grown up. Sheâs older than her mom was whenââ
âBelieve me, I know,â Marcus groans. âDonât remind me; it makes this feel very⊠wrong.â He gestured between the two of you.
âJust trust me,â you murmur. âSheâd want to know.â 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.
âHoney,â Marcus calls out softly from the bed. âGood night.â
âGood night,â you whisper back, and then youâre gone.
âWhere are you two off to, today?â Marcus asks conversationally over coffee. Heâs 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. Youâre grateful for the extra boost of caffeine as well, of courseâthe 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 Marcusâs past was still swirling around in your head, and every time you closed your eyes, you could still feel his hands on you.Â
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 youâd 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 nightâthat devilish smirk as he teased about wanting to taste you.
You wonder if youâll ever see him that way again, or if last night was a fluke.Â
Had he noticed when your fingers had trembled around the coffee cup he handed you?Â
He had given you a soft, tender stare when you had first entered the kitchen, but thatâs 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.
âNot really sure,â Emma answers Marcusâs question. âKind of ran out of stuff to see.â
âImpossible,â Marcus chuckles. âWell, 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.â
âThe fucking FBI office?â Emma asks. âAre we allowed?â
âYeah, why wouldnât you be?â Marcus shrugs. âPlus, I might be able to set up some time for you to talk to someone in Legal,â he says to you. âAre you still interested in that?â
âOh wow,â you breathe. âReally?â
ââCourse,â he replies. âI said I would.â
You nod, smiling up at him beatifically. âIâd like that a lot.â
âPerfect,â he grins. âWell, if youâre coming, weâre going to need to leave soon. Are you almost ready?â
âIâm ready,â Emma announces, shouldering her bag.
âYeah, me too.â
Marcus winks at you, and you try not to let yourself react to it.
âLetâs go, then.â
You had assumed that youâd spend most of your day at the FBI holed up in Marcusâs office, doing nothing. You had imagined that, out of necessity, youâd be barred from attending any meetings or hearing about his departmentâs 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.Â
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. Heâs 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 whatâs being discussed, you can tell simply by listening to his cadence of speech that heâs incredibly knowledgeable, and fucking good at his job. Itâs clear he loves the workâand 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 heâs clearly found something he loves to do.Â
âPeople change.â
You suddenly recall his words the very first night you were thereâhis assurance that it didnât matter that you had no idea what you wanted to do at your age, because thereâs no promise that youâll still want the same things in ten years. After last night, you realize that he was talking about himself in that moment.
You hope heâs happy and fulfilled.
He deserves it.
You watch him wrap up the meetingâdelegating work to each member of the team and asking for updatesâand 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. Youâre nervous at firstâyou arenât sure what youâre 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 youâquite a bit, actuallyâbut you canât pretend that you arenât 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 proximityâbecause youâre 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, theyâve 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.
âMust have been a good talk,â Marcus remarks.Â
âYeah, you were there for two hours,â Emma adds.
âIt was good,â you nod. âTalked about, yâknow, internships and stuff.â
âYou wanna live here?â Emma asks, looking surprised and curious.
You try to shrug noncommittally. âSure,â you say lightly. âItâs as good a place as any, and it would be kind of fun to work for the FBI, right?â
âIâm afraid I canât give you an unbiased answer to that,â Marcus says with a wry smile, âbut I think youâd be a great fit.â
Your heart swells at his words. âReally?â
âAbsolutely,â he says earnestly. âAnd I hate to do this, but Iâve gotta run to do a witness interview, and you guys have to stay behind this time.â
You watch as Marcus gives Emma a quick kiss on the forehead, and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the action. Theyâve gotten more comfortable around each other in the time youâve been here, but neither of them had seemed to be very comfortable with physical affection. Marcus, for his part, is always so hesitantâwanting to reach out, but seemingly afraid that he doesnât deserve it, or worse, that it wonât be received well. You still remember the first day you saw himâwhen his hand twitched toward his daughter, seemingly desperate to wrap her in a hug, but he hadnât 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.
âTomorrowâs the last day, huh?â Emma says conversationally.
You gulp. Youâve 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, itâs temporary by its very nature, and you know it.
You just donât really want to think about it right now.
âYup,â you agree, mouth full of noodles.Â
âWhat do you wanna do? Iâm kind of out of ideas.â
You shrug. âWe could ask Marcus if thereâs anything he recommends seeing that we havenât already been to.â
âI think we should go as far out as the metro line goes,â Emma says.
âWhy?â
She shrugs. âSee where we end up.â
âWhatever you want,â you tell her. âLast day is up to you.â
âHowâs the pad Thai?â
âGood,â you nod, mouth full. âWhatâd you get?â
âCalamari,â she answers. âNever had it, wanted to try it.â
âHow was it?â
âChewy.â
You laugh, taking another bite of noodles. âThink Iâll stick to my favorite.â
The two of you huddle together on the small, two-seater couch in Marcusâs 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 himâthe 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.Â
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?
âYou two hungry for dinner?â he asks, putting his stuff back in his messenger back and throwing it over his shoulder.
Emma groans loudly beside you. âGonna be honest, Iâm not really feeling dinner.â
âThat was a lot of pad Thai,â you agree.
âGood,â Marcus says with a smile. âMe neither. Letâs go home and have a lazy night eating popcorn on the couch.â
The moment you arrive home, though, Emma makes a beeline for the bathroom.Â
âShe okay?â Marcus asks you.
You grimace at the faint sounds of retching. âDoesnât sound like it.â
When she emerges again, Marcus hands her a glass of water with a concerned expression. âEverything okay?â
âNo,â she mutters pitifully.
âWas it the calamari?â you ask.
âPlease donât say that word ever again,â Emma groans, flopping down on the couch. âFuck. Everything hurts.â
âWhat do you need?â Marcus asks, looking a little lost.
âDistraction,â she mumbles. âLong movie or something.â
Emma takes up the entire couch, so you and Marcus have to sit in opposite armchairs while you watch Lord of the Rings. Itâs 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 wouldnât be able to hide your reaction to him. So much so that even Emma, whoâs still alternating between running to the bathroom and collapsing on the couch, would have no choice but to notice.Â
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 guiltyâyour 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 friendâs dad.Â
When the movie is over, itâs late; Marcus brushes Emmaâs hair back from her forehead and suggests she go lie down. As sheâs stumbling toward the guest room, Marcus touches you for the first time since last nightâlightly wrapping his fingers around your wrist while Emma isnât 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.
You come to him in the dead of night. You lie awake, listening for Emmaâs breathing to even out, and then waiting another thirty minutes after that, just to be safe.Â
Itâs nearly midnight when you slip into Marcusâs bedroom, but heâs still awake; his lamp is on, and heâs reading a book.
Waiting for you.Â
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.Â
âFuck,â he whispers against your lips. âAll fucking day, all I could think about was this.â
âMe too,â you mumble hastily in between kisses.Â
âNo idea how hard it was to concentrate on giving that meeting this morning,â he confesses, âwith you in the corner looking at me with those eyes of yours.âÂ
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.Â
âAh!âReally?â you gasp. âI didnâtâyou looked so⊠calm the whole day. Like it didnât affect you the same way it affects me.â
âDoesnât affect me?â Marcus repeats incredulously. âHoney, I am out of my mind with wanting you.â He pulls back, his palms cradling your cheeks as he stares at you with a disbelieving smile. âDo you not have any idea what you do to me?â he asks softly.Â
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. âYou feel that?â he rasps. âDo you fucking feel what you do to me?â
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. âIâve been half-hard all day,â he confesses. âI had to fuck my own hand in the shower this morning and still,â he groans. âAs soon as I picture your face as you fall apart for me, Iâm done for.â
âYou thought about that?âÂ
âAll fucking day,â Marcus promises.Â
âThat all you thought about?â you ask, your voice turning coy as you gain more confidence.
He chuckles darkly. âThought about a lot of things,â he murmurs.
âSuch asâŠ?â
âJustâall the ways I want to have you.âÂ
âShow me,â you demand.
Marcus chuckles again. âShow you what, pretty girl?â
âAll the ways that you want me.â
âThat would take a lot more time than we currently have,â he says wryly.Â
âThen show me how you want me most,â you say.Â
âLet me get you ready first,â Marcus murmurs, starting to kiss a path down your body, intent on his destination.Â
âNo.â
âHmm?â
âI want it now,â you say frankly.
âHoneyââ he protests softly.
âConsider the fact that Iâve done nothing but think about what happened last night and fantasize about whatâs going to happen tonight foreplay,â you tell him. âI canâtâI canât wait. I donât want it to be slow. I needâI needââ you trail off, searching for how exactly to find the words for what it is that you need.Â
Marcus nods slowly, his eyes darkening as he watches you plead for him to take you now.
âYou really want me to show you?â he asks quietly.
You nod.
âThen get on your hands and knees for me, honey.â
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.Â
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.Â
"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.Â
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 thisâthis 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.Â
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.Â
"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.Â
"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.Â
Marcusâs 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.Â
He fucks you harder and faster, one hand sliding underneath you to rub tight circles over your clit.Â
"Cum for me," he rasps brokenly above you. âFuck, pleaseââÂ
The soft plea is enough to end you. You wail into Marcusâs hand as you come undone, and he tightens his grip, muffling the sound.Â
It doesnât take long for him to followâjust 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. Youâre both still breathing heavily, but he smooths the hair back from your forehead as he looks you over.
âAre you okay?â he asks softly. âThat was a lot, Iâm sorry.â
ââRe you kidding?â you slur. âThat was⊠amazing.â
Marcus laughs and pulls you close again. âIâm glad,â he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his words.Â
âCan I stay here for a little longer?â you ask. âJust a little.â
Marcus pulls back again and looks down at you with an amused smile. âItâs cute that you think Iâm done with you, honey.â
Your eyes widen. âYouâre not?â
âMm-mm. Donât think Iâll ever get tired of the way you look when you come undone,â he murmurs, tracing the tip of his index finger down the side of your cheek. âYou didnât think Iâd be satisfied with just once tonight, did you?â
You giggle. âI guess not.â
He fixes you with a fiery look. âDo you trust me?â he asks quietly.Â
â...Yeah?â
He raises one eyebrow.Â
âYes,â you answer, with more conviction this time. âYes, I trust you.â
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 canât 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.Â
You cringe slightly at the wet squelch of your combined release, but Marcus shushes you gently. âLove how wet you get,â he teases affectionately. âAnd I like knowing Iâm there inside of you.â
You clench involuntarily at his words, your lips parting as you exhale shakily.Â
He chuckles. âYou like that? You like knowing that I get off on the idea of you carrying a little piece of me with you?â he asks, as he starts to slowly fuck you with one finger.
âWhat if I told you that I was thinking about it during that meeting this morning?â he continues. âI kept wondering if there was still a little in there from last night, leaking into your underwear as I talked.â
âShit,â you mumble. âMarcus.â
âWanna fill you up again tonight,â he remarks casually. âSo itâs still there when youâre walking around tomorrow.â He groans softly. âFuckâCan IâCan I give you my number? IâI want you to text me. Tell me you can still feel me.â
âOh my god,â you murmur. âYes.â
âGood.â 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 doesnât stop. He starts to rub quickly back and forth on that little spot inside of you until something else starts to build.Â
âM-Marcus,â you murmur. âW-Wait, Iâsomething isââ
âShhh.â 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.
âOh! Shit,â you cry out, panicking. âWhat the fââ
âFuck, yes,â Marcus groans, the sound coming deep from within his chest. âOh, fuck, do that again.â
When he notices your expression of utter shock, though, he pauses, a slow smile of understanding spreading across his face.Â
âHoney,â he says soothingly. âWas that the first time?â
You stare up at him, mouth hanging open. âI⊠I kind of always thought that was a myth,â you admit, ducking your head in embarrassment.Â
âOh, baby,â he breathes softly. âNo, itâs definitely not.â
He lays down beside you again, gently tucking a wisp of stray hair behind one ear. âThat was so good,â he praises softly. âSo good to me.â
You smile shakily, but something is starting to nag at you.
âWhatâs wrong?â Marcus asks, noticing your hesitant expression.Â
âI just⊠feel really inexperienced,â you admit quietly. âYou know all this stuff, and Iâit must be tedious, having someone who doesnât know what theyâre doing, orââ
âNo,â Marcus interrupts, his voice full of sincerity. âItâs not tedious at all. On the contrary,â he says with a little laugh, âthe fact that I get to show you⊠that Iâm the only one who can get you to do something you didnât even know you could doâWell, shit,â he says with a crooked grin. He reaches down and palms his cock, which is hard and weeping again. âLook at what it does to me, huh?â
âDoes that mean youâll fuck me again?â you ask eagerly.
Marcus chuckles at your enthusiasm. âI did say I was going to fill you up one more time, didnât I?â
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.Â
âI feel like Iâve been run over by a train,â she grumbles. âAnd my stomach is still in fucking knots.â
âWe can just stay around the house,â you offer.
âI donât want you to lay around being bored just because of me,â she protests, flopping down on the couch with a groan.
âNot feeling any better?â Marcus asks, coming into the living room.Â
âNo,â Emma pouts. âIâm gonna stay here and rest.â
âWhat are you going to do?â he asks, looking over at you.
You shrug. âI donât really know. Stay here too, probably.â
âHow about this,â Marcus says carefully. âIâm 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?â
You try to keep your face neutral at the prospect of spending a day with Marcus. Alone.Â
âSure,â you say, hoping it sounds nonchalant. âCould be fun.âÂ
âGreat,â he says lightly. âItâs a dâitâs a plan.â
Itâs a date.
Youâre giddy as you wave goodbye to Emmaâwhoâs watching daytime TV and holding a bottle of Gatoradeâand follow Marcus out of the door.Â
As soon as the door shuts, he rounds on you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you soundly. âSo glad you said yes,â he says breathlessly.Â
âWhy wouldnât I say yes to that?â you tease. âSpending the day with you.â
âI donât know,â Marcus murmurs playfully, capturing your lips again. âGood question.â
âIs this a date?â you ask coyly.
He pauses, lips parting in surprise. âDo you want it to be?â
Taking a big leap of faith, you nod.Â
Marcusâs expression softens, and he threads your fingers together. âThen itâs a date.â
After his talkâwhich you listen to with eager eyes and rapt attentionâthe 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 youâyou had no idea art could be described so sensually.Â
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 sheâs 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.Â
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.Â
âToday wasââ he starts, but breaks off, shaking his head.Â
âYeah,â you agree.
âListen, I donâtâI donât know what your plans are after you leave tomorrow, butââ
âI donât know.â
âOkay.â
Youâre both dancing around something bigâboth of you afraid to say what you really mean, and you know it, but you canât bring yourself to take the leap.Â
You had been hoping that Marcus would.
âIt was nice,â you say lamely.Â
âIt was,â he agrees softly.Â
Emma is looking a little less green when you arrive back home, and accepts the sandwich eagerly.Â
âSorry about today,â she says, her mouth full. âI donât know what the hell that was.â
âIt was the calââ
âDonât fucking say it.â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
On the other handâŠÂ
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.Â
"Fancy seeing you here, beautiful," he says, drawing the covers back with a playful raise of his eyebrow.Â
Despite your heavy mood, you can't help but grin back and enthusiastically hop into bed beside him.Â
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. Â
"This is nice," you hum contentedly.Â
"Oh yeah? This all you want? Just a little cuddle?" Marcus teases, nipping gently at your shoulder.Â
"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.Â
"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.Â
"Have somewhere in mind, do you?"
"I've had it on my mind all day," he says softly.Â
"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.Â
"Help me out with these," he commands quietly.Â
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.Â
"C'mere."
You giggle and bite your lip nervously as you crawl forward and straddle him.
"Wanna see you just like this," he murmurs.Â
"IâI've neverâ"
"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.Â
"Eyes on me, honey."Â
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 himâyou don't think you'll ever get used to the feeling of being broken open for the first time.Â
"That's it," he whispers. "Just like that."Â
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 Marcusâs cock inside of you.Â
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 thatâs 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.Â
He whispers little praises and encouragements in your ear in that deep, raspy way his voice gets when heâs drunk on pleasure. You can recognize all his little foibles, nowâthe way he wiggles his wrist back and forth when somethingâs on his mind, the way he talks with his hands when heâs passionate about a subject, and the way he sounds when he comes undone.
Youâre going to carry all of those things with you, nowâthe way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way he raises one eyebrow when heâs 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?
Youâre so deep in your emotions when you cum, you barely even realize that youâre about to until youâre 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.
Youâre 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 yetâitâs 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. Itâs a sensory overload in nearly every way, and youâre drowning in the feel of him.
Itâs so good that you feel your core start to tighten again.
âSo soon?â Marcus teases breathlessly in your ear. âFuck, I can feel you shaking. How are you so fucking perfect, hmm? You always feel like you were made to take me.â
His words inexplicably cause a lump to build in your throat. Made to take him, but this couldnât, by definition, last. The statement only makes you wish that your compatibility didnât have to be so fucking temporary.Â
Youâre teetering on a precipiceâon 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.
âYou can let go, honey. Iâve got you.â
You convulse with a wet sob, pleasure and sorrow overtaking you simultaneously. Blessedly, with your face buried in the pillow, Marcus doesnât notice yet; he starts fucking into you with abandon until he lets go with a deep groan in your ear.Â
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.
âShit,â 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.
âDid I hurt you?â he asks frantically. âHoney, look at me.â
âNo!â you exclaim emphatically. âNo, IâI donât know why Iâm doing this.â
âTalk to me,â he demands softly.
âI donâtâI donât want to go home,â you whisper. âI donât want this to end.â
âOh, honey,â Marcus whispers. âReally?â
âSorry,â you mumble. âIâm sure this is exactly what youâre looking forâfor some girl to get attached to you after one whole week of knowing youâŠâ
Marcus smiles and brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. âAttached to me?â
âI didnât mean for it to happen,â you say. âYouâre just really nice, and youâre gorgeous, and youâve been so good to meââ
âDonât cry,â he whispers. âPlease donât cry.â
"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.Â
âAll Iâm suggesting is that we stay in touch,â Marcus answers. âNo pressure, no expectations. We talk, and we get to know each other better, and when you graduate, Miss Pre-Law,â he teases, lightly touching the tip of your nose, âif 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.â
"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 goesâif it goes anywhereâshe'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."Â
"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.Â
"Not a goodbye kiss," he teased.
"A 'see you later' kiss," you correct.Â
"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.Â
Marcus smiles and kisses you long and deep. "Especially that."
â â â â âÂ
One year laterâŠ
âMay I present: the graduating class of 2024.â
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 elseâs crashes down on your head, instead.Â
âFucking finally!â Emma shouts beside you, and you grin widely.Â
The last year has been a whirlwind for the both of you, and you know it.Â
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.Â
And how do you know all this?
Well, Marcus hadnât lost touch with you, either.Â
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 youâd spend entire nights at the beginning staying up far too late and talking well into the wee hours of the morning.Â
It wasnât hard to see that the something that was between you was still there and not going away any time soon. And the only thing youâve 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 couldâsome 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, heâd barely let you out of his hotel room.)
Your beginning may have been a meteoric collisionâtwo people forced into proximity that had no choice but to fall into each otherâbut the growth of your resulting love was slow and careful.
Eventually, youâd need to tell Emma, but it didnât 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 fatherâs, the two of you will have to come clean.Â
Right now, though, as you and Emma weave through the crowds of people looking for Marcus, youâre 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 itâs ready.
âThere she is!â
Emma beams as she hears Marcus call out, waving his hand frantically to catch your attention among the sea of people.Â
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.
âCongratulations,â he saysâperfunctorily, but warmly.Â
âThank you.â
After a couple of beats, Emma rolls her eyes.
âWould you just kiss her already? Honestly, itâs more weird that youâre not.â
Two sets of eyes swivel to her in alarm.
âYou⊠you knew?â you exclaim.
Emma gives you a disbelieving look. âOkay, the fact that you two both think you were being subtle means you might actually be meant for each other. Wow.â
âHow?â you choke out.
âAre you serious? You two had bizarre energy when you met, and ever since, I see you smiling at your phone all the time,â Emma says to you. âAnd after that week, whenever heâs come to visit, you both act weird around each other.â
âOh,â you say dumbly.
âPlus, you had a hickey on your neck one morning,â she says, rolling her eyes. âReal subtle.â
Oops. You shoot Marcus a look, and notice that heâs as red as a tomato.Â
âEm,â he starts, looking pained.
âItâs fine,â she interrupts. âLook, itâs 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. Iâm not going to say it doesnât make me feel fucking weird, and I donât ever wanna know details about your sex life and I am not calling you âmom,â but I guess Iâll just say⊠I get it. You two are oddly similar, and I wouldnât want to stand in between you and happiness. Because I⊠you know. I love you.â
âEmma,â Marcus says, his smile turning watery for a moment.Â
âDonât⊠make a big deal out of it,â she grumbles.
âWouldnât dream of it,â he laughs, and gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead. âI love you too, Emmie.â
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 youâthe 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 youâd felt that emotion emanating from each of you for months prior.
It was justâyou didnât 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 mouthâwhich he does often, and right now.
âCongratulations,â he murmurs again. This time, the word is dark and full of underlying emotionâlove, affection, friendship, prideâand you grin back as you kiss him once more.
âWhat now?â you ask with a little laugh.
âI have a few ideas,â he husks in your ear, inaudible to anyone else, before pulling back. âBut right now?â he shrugs. âAnything you want. Everything.â
âWhat if I said that all I wanted was you?â
Marcusâs eyes soften. âWell, honey,â he says gently, âyouâre in luck, because thatâs the one thing I can give you.â
The end.
#marcus pike#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x f!reader#marcus pike x you#marcus pike fanfiction#the mentalist#the mentalist fanfiction#pedro pascal
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