#i was too tired to go to the louvre today. but tomorrow!!!!

[ripclaudia]

where alice stepped on a gum and made daniel scrape it off with a credit card (says louis) or a library card (says daniel)

[rrredgi]

Had the most violent attack of vicious tiny flies and their bites won't heal for like 4 days :( I'm not prone to allergies but these itch so bad I feel like a cat tower

[pascalepalaces]

"We Lock Lips" in Juked Magazine:

08.02.21

by Pascale Potvin

after Seduced: Inside the NXIVM Cult

That gripe of the city women with the men that tell them to smile—I do sympathize.

I’d accidentally joined a cult, at about nineteen. The members had claimed they’d help me find myself; I’d had no clue what ‘finding oneself’ might even entail, and so I’d figured I was the ideal candidate.

The company had created all of these personal development programs, and healthy lifestyle bootcamps, and all the more countless intensives. I had come to find, in the decade following, that finding oneself should be right down to the bone.

A similar sentiment was expressed to me, too, in more literal terms.

It would just be like digging into myself for gold, I thought; I knew I’d be happy if I was as thin as the others, that they were keeping me accountable in a way I couldn’t alone. I had paid a small debt, too, when I didn’t do my readings; my friends were only paving the roads on which I could push inward.

They did stop pretending, eventually, that the digital parts of my debt weren’t going up the ranks to the one man in the company—the only man, of course, that we’d ever need. Kenneth even broke the gap by texting me directly and often, asking for more pictures whenever he’d heard I’d eaten more than appropriate.

Though it was all innocent I was also all the way attracted to him, I will admit. How couldn’t I have been, knowing his mind, an aphrodisiac? Kenneth was playing Mozart by the age of six; he’d invented a new mathematics at just fourteen; he’d written books of philosophy in his twenties and boisterous prose. He knew he’d solve the hunger crisis as soon as he had the right influence; which teenaged girl wouldn’t worship such virtues no matter how aged?

So, like the others, I stared at every movement of his mouth as one would the Louvre’s latest.

Still, something was inexplicably wrong within me.

You don’t look too happy about it, Kenneth had responded to one November photo, just as I was turning back toward the road home. He had me stop in my tire tracks, again, to keep trying for a grin genuine enough for judgment.

I couldn’t understand why I kept screwing it all up, in the first place. I’d thought of him for so many miles of drives, had often rocked too far into the gas pedal; this task, for me, should’ve been easy. And yet ever since the start of our one-on-one classes I could only hold heat in my stomach.

Even once I managed an acceptable photo (good, but shave yourself when you get home, he’d reminded), I couldn’t feel the same indestructible that I had after his first teachings. The first part of myself I’d sent him had left me high, really believing maybe I could do anything;

It was devitalizing, not reaching something I’d once so easily held.

“So, did you finish your journal?” Alice asked when she found me loading the fridge.

“Yes. Almost,” I mustered for her.

“You know that I wanted it earlier.”

“Of course. But you asked me to fetch the groceries.”

“You know that making excuses only holds yourself back more,” she spoke, in almost a song. “I think I want you to get an early start tomorrow."

Early starts were always exactly four, inconsiderate of night classes prior.

“That isn’t really fair. I just couldn’t do it today," I retried.

But Alice no longer acknowledged me—and so I only put food away as she ate toast.

In a predictable pattern, I couldn’t enjoy my bath that evening either. My skin was still much hotter than the water surrounding me, my eyes still wetter.

Why couldn’t I get comfortable with anything? I had to wonder. What was I missing? Why was I not by some universe allowed to have what the other women had much more?

For months I had tried to tell Alice that I needed intervention—some extra guidance (please, I really needed it)—but she only ever told me I should work harder. I was the only one who could ultimately decide my own fate, with some help from Kenneth whenever he spared it.

After that, things had only seemed more hopeless.

Yet I started to think that if I acquired some proof that my concerns were solid, or a concrete example of how deeply my mind was wounded, then I’d only have to wait for our next family photo and then, she would see. (It was as I was moving my razor up my thigh that I had the quivering idea.)

Nothing happened, initially, when I moved the handle the wrong direction; I did it again just before the blood appeared, bringing with it a ringing pain. I gasped, the water around me.

I was on earth again, escaping.

A different panic came shortly, of course: there was no way Alice should see what I’d done. What an idiotic idea had overcome my idiot head, in its upset; now, everyone would come to see the cuts, and whether she would sympathize would depend on her mood.

Leaving the tub, I held some wet toilet paper against myself and searched the cabinet for some first aid. There was just one bottle of hydrogen peroxide, which bubbled and burned along with my stifling throat.

Later, I settled for toilet paper held up with tape.

There was no group photo for a few days thereafter, and so the first to see my marks was Kenneth at our next meeting. I was surprised to find he didn’t respond to my disrobing but to ask,

"What is it that you were punishing yourself for? Did it help?”

At that, I didn’t want to say anything wrong. “Not smiling well enough,” I mumbled. “And yes, I think it did.”

Kenneth nodded, and the most surprising part—the one that spread up from its cage in my chest through my neck—was when he lifted his head from its place between my legs and stood.

It was the first time I’d seen something in his pants, aroused.

I practically ran when he dismissed me, my vision all in swirls. He was supposed to be celibate beyond human capacity; he’d claimed he never took pleasure from the techniques. They were only for my benefit, meant to help me solve my issues with my body, with general vulnerability.

What had made his hardness too hard to conceal, this time? Was it my cuts? The idea that I’d bled? That I’d bled for him?

If it was just pain that made him bloody in one place, then, how could it be true he wanted us all to find joy?

Alice approached me the next morning, told me she’d like to go over my cuts with a cauterizing pen—to prevent infections, because of our minimalist healthcare, she justified—and I suspected she was making an excuse to brand me for him.

“You finally went out of your comfort zone this week. Let’s keep that rolling,” she was saying, with a coffee-stained sigh at my resistance. “If you get through this most intense pain, think about all the pain that’ll be so manageable in comparison.”

If I were to deny her request or, God forbid, leave entirely, I’d be more punished and my photos spread like spider legs. The cauterizing collateral. That video of me, forced to moan for my deceased father—it’d release like my body never could since the filming.

I had no choice but to take Alice’s advice, one way or another.

So, I accepted it not quite the way that she’d described.

I cut again, much more in the bath that night—this time all over the arms, again showing skin, finding myself in all of my blood and of course bone. Should I have gone even further?, I am wondering. Carved myself into the tiny thing of a woman Kenneth so desired?

Had he been taking secret pleasure, too, every time he’d kissed all of our cheeks and then our lips?

I went to the backyard before dawn and pushed my arms into the wet dirt, digging. I ran some blocks north, did the same in the garden of Blair and Beth and Jenny. I repeated and repeated. Digging for tetanic treasure. Looking for some lockjaw.

[yoonjinkooked]

Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien | Jimin

moodboard by the lovely and amazing @flajka, who was also my #1 helper and support through the torturous 10 month journey that this story was. 

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Strangers to lovers, smut, romcom

Warnings: explicit sex, slight exhibitionism (fingering, out in the open but not in public, boat sex, oral (f and m receiving) brief but gory painting description, a lot of cursing, Jimin will end you Word Count: 19k+  Summary: You keep meeting a handsome stranger in Paris. One coincidence after another leads to the most amazing trip of your life A/N: This shit took 10 months to write. Thank @flajka, Kehlani and Jimin’s sexy Paris photos.  Spotify playlists for this fic are: 1 / 2 / 3  - I had to separate them because you can’t put Edith Piaf on the same playlist as Ace Of Base.  Hope you enjoy! 

Looking up from the screen of your phone, you blink once, twice, three times – you are not where you are supposed to be and Google maps are the stupidest invention ever.

It took you two hours to find your Airbnb apartment yesterday, all because Google maps were not quite user friendly. Not to mention that your sense of direction was utterly pathetic.

Yet despite all of that, you were absolutely positive that finding ‘Shakespeare and company’ would be an easy task – after all, you were so close to it, having just spent 10 minutes mourning the fact that the Notre-Dame was still very much unapproachable. From there to the bookstore, the route should have been easy to follow but alas, it was not. Somehow, you have managed to confuse yourself even further.

Looking around in place, you breathe a sigh of relief when you see the green doors and a sign that tells you that perhaps your sense of direction isn’t as bad as you think it is – ‘Shakespeare and Company’.

There it is, the bookstore with such rich history, one of your must-see places in Paris, something that the ‘Midnight in Paris’ lover in you had to tick off the list – there it is, right before you and very much closed. You check the time, finding that it is almost nine – a quick Google search, which is something you should have done before leaving your apartment – tells you that it opens up at half past nine.

You don’t have time, you absolutely don’t have time to sit around and wait for it to open. It’s going to take you some time to reach the 7th Arrondissement and once you do get there, two museums await. Wasting time, waiting for a bookstore to open is not a luxury you can afford right now.

Perhaps you will have time before you leave. After all, you still have a week to spend in the city of light and although your plans are pretty strict and well-organized, you are aware that some changes are bound to happen. But you will leave that for the last day – right now, you only have a few minutes of your life to offer to a closed bookstore.

As you take photos of the famed location, you recall the comments your mother made before you left, about how a young woman shouldn’t travel alone in a foreign country. She had a point – one shouldn’t travel alone if they want to have at least one photo of themselves on the memory card. It sucks a bit but you don’t let it dampen your mood – you don’t need photos to preserve the memories. A selfie stick was always an option but it was also beneath you – something you’ve decided when they first appeared.

“Is it closed?” a voice asks from behind you, making you jump a bit, as you weren’t aware that you had company. The man looking at you seems to be about your age and a tourist, if the camera around his neck is anything to go by. The brief once-over you give him lets you know he is also unnaturally attractive.

“Yeah,” you tell him, offering him a compassionate smile when you see his expression sour. “It should open soon though – about half an hour, if Google is correct.”

“Thanks for the info,” he smiles, before he lifts up his camera and starts taking photos. You realize that the chit-chat is over, so you resume taking photos as well. Just a few seconds later, his presence gave you an idea.

“Hey, would you mind taking a photo of me?” you ask sheepishly, smiling when he nods his head at once. “I’m travelling alone and I just want at least one photo of me in the folder, you know?”

“I can relate,” he chuckles as he takes the camera from you. “How do you want to take it? Casually touristy, right in front of it or artsy, with you looking up at the sign in awe?”

“Artsy,” he laughs at your immediate response, to which you simply shrug. “When will I be artsy if not in Paris?”

“Touché,” he agrees, before directing you so that he can take a decent shot. “Turn a bit to the left.”

A few seconds later, it’s his turn. After settling your own camera around your neck, you take his and take a few photos of him as he stands in the same spot you did, looking up at the sign in fake awe. This gives you a chance to properly look at him for the first time. He is indeed handsome, insanely so. Dark brown hair swept away from his face, insanely clear skin and a jaw that could cut right through glass. Looking right at him is almost blinding and you rush to take the photos.

“All done,” you smile as you return the camera to him. “I think you have a few decent shots there.”

“Thanks,” he smiles as you adjust your backpack, ready to take your leave – Shakespeare will have to enjoy your company some other day. “Enjoy the rest of Paris.”

“Yeah, you too,” you smile back at the man, mumbling under your breath as you leave because it serves you right to meet the most handsome man ever half-way across the world.

By the time you finally escape the Parisian metro, you are dead tired. Musée Rodin was just as beautiful as ‘Midnight in Paris’ made it seem to be. You’ve spent the good part of the morning roaming it’s gardens, before finally moving onto Les Invalides, which housed the tomb of the oh so great Napoleon Bonaparte. That was arguably less exciting than Musée Rodin, with you actually giving up on it completely as soon as you saw his tomb. The comments you thought of while admiring the size of the tomb and him obviously carrying his complexes into afterlife were left to you alone, making you chuckle at random times and earning a few curious looks from your fellow tourists.

Your tourist escapades ended at Champ de Mars, with an impromptu picnic which included sitting on your jacket and eating a marvelous French feast made up from pre-packaged Starbucks caramel macchiato and salt&vinegar chips – mmm, so French it hurts. Originally, you wanted to wait for the infamous light show to start but after just an hour, you have already given up and made your leave, hoping not to get lost in the metro yet again.

Luckily, you didn’t. You were so tired by the time you got to the place you rented in the outskirts of Paris that you barely had the energy to shower. And tomorrow, with Versailles being your top priority, your day was bound to be even more tiring.

You are fuming, absolutely fuming, wanting nothing more than to curse out loud and stomp on the ground. You have been tricked and that was just the drop that made the glass overflow.

You woke up with a massive headache and after forcing yourself to eat a bit, you could finally drink medication. By the time you were ready to leave your rental apartment, the timetable you made for today was already long forgotten – you’re at least an hour late.

But that isn’t a problem. It’s not even the ever confusing metro, because somehow, with a lot of help from locals, you’ve managed to figure out where you should wait for the right ride to Versailles. All of it was a bit stress inducing but definitely not a problem. The real problem occurred when you were in front of the magnificent golden gates, which you couldn’t even see because of the massive line.

Clutching your fast pass ticket, you approach a smaller line leading to the entrance, hoping and praying that you weren’t wasting your time waiting there instead of in the massive crowd, hoping that your fast pass can actually let you pass, fast.

You were mistaken. Apparently, every single human being waiting in the long ass line also had the fast pass ticket. How long do people without a fast pass have to wait is a question you don’t even want to know the answer to. With a few huffs and puffs, you took your place in line, annoyed at anything and everything, starting from the stupid agency who sold you this worthless ticket, right down to your best friend who suggested taking this trip together, only to bail on you to let her boyfriend take her to Ibiza.

As if all of that was not enough to ruin your mood, rain had started to fall, damping your clothes enough so that they match your mood.  At least you were ready for it, having read up about the unpredictable early summer rains of Paris and making sure to never leave the apartment without your hideously yellow umbrella.

An hour and a half later, you finally put the damn fast pass into use and enter the extravagant home of some Louis – you’re not ashamed to admit to not know which one. After all, you were about to learn.

The inside of the magnificent palace left you with mixed emotions, in all honesty. On one hand, it truly is as grand and striking as you had always imagined it to be. On the other hand, the crowd was killing you. Teens running around and touching things they shouldn’t be touching, people looking at everything through the screen of their phones and cameras instead of actually looking… It all left you feeling a bit on edge and wishing you had a chance to attend a private tour or something. Knowing that you will probably experience the same thing later today in the Louvre wasn’t helping either.

Every time you would pass a window, you found yourself wanting to be outside and after an hour of torture and not being able to enjoy anything, you have finally given up – fuck the rain, fuck it all – most people are still inside to avoid the rain after all and you do have your trusted umbrella with you.

Stepping into the gardens of Versailles was the best decision you could have made and you regretted not making it sooner. There were very few people outside and even the light drizzle could not ruin the experience of such a beautiful place. It’s fascinating, really, to look from the balcony above and to not see the end to all the gardens, green labyrinths, with many fountains and statues placed at nearly every corner.

It was almost impossible for you to decide where to start, so you just decided to roam freely, with no end goal in mind. You don’t even bother with your camera much, once you reach the seemingly endless green maze. The view from higher ground is magnificent but as you walk around, all you see is green hedges, incredibly tall green hedges – a very literal maze of plants. The smell is comforting – a mixture of the familiar smell of rain and of plants – more specifically, grass.

You wander around, enjoying the peace and quiet. There are more people in the maze but they are far from you and compared to the crowd you were in just minutes ago, they are ignorable, unless they are heading directly in your direction.

You recognize him instantly – other than a few locals you’ve asked for directions, he is the only person you exchanged more than one sentence with – it’s the guy from ‘Shakespeare and Company’, walking towards you. Your fear of awkwardness makes you lower the umbrella so that you can pretend that you simply didn’t see him. You only lift the umbrella up when you see his feet walk by you.

It would be weird and awkward. What do you say to someone you recognize but don’t really know? Hey? What if he doesn’t remember you and you embarrass yourself for no good reason? No, this was completely ignorable, luckily for you.

You are not fast enough the second time. The next crossroad in the maze leaves you making eye contact with him, as he is standing parallel to you, with a solid distance in-between. Solid enough for you to still pretend you do not recognized him. The eye contact made you feel a bit uneasy because what if he remembers you too? The awkwardness you’ve wanted to avoid might have just doubled.

So you walk on, taking a left turn as soon as you find one, finding the first ‘hidden room’ of the maze and a breathtaking, extravagant fountain that all but begs for you to take photos of it. Consciously steering away from the direction he seemed to have been taking, you walk along.

Left, straight, left again, straight, a bit to the right – you even manage to lose track of your surroundings, hoping that you are heading towards the gigantic fountain you’ve seen from the upper balcony.

Yet somehow, you still manage to see him again and much to your dismay, make direct eye contact. He is standing parallel from you and before you turned around and started walking, you could see what looked like mild confusion on his face.

Crap. He must have recognized you to a certain extent and now you’re making it painfully obvious that you are running away from him. For no good reason, too. You could have simply said “Oh hey, I remember you from yesterday, enjoy Versailles” or something along that line and made your exit but no, god no, you just had to make a fool of yourself.

You’ve never taken pride in your title of awkward social potato and this little mishap has to rank pretty high on your list of embarrassing moments. Sure, weird eye contact isn’t that big of a deal but the fact that it could have been easily avoid it and wasn’t only makes it 10 times worse.

Surprisingly enough, as soon as you realize that you’re being ridiculous, you have a chance for a do-over.

By the time you’ve reached the grand fountain, with a very confusing yet majestic statue of horses in the middle of it, you see him again, standing right on the edge of it, luckily not looking your way. Once again you are reminded of just how good looking he is and it’s not helping you with what you are about to do, since insanely attractive men tend to make you nervous and tongue tied.

“Well, at least the Versailles was open,” you try to sound as casual as possible as you stand a few feet away from him, watching as confusion disappears from his face as he puts two and two together.

“I thought I recognized you,” he laughs and you realize that his laughter is as melodic as his voice. Damn him. “They opened yesterday minutes after you left,” he tells you and to that you shrug.

“Nine days in Paris aren’t enough – I had museums to see,” you tell him, watching as he nods in understanding, still smiling at you. “I hope you enjoyed it, though.”

“I did,” he tells you. “Since you’re here, would you mind taking a photo of me?” he sounds as sheepish as you did yesterday. “You’re the only stranger I’d trust with my camera,” he adds. He makes a simple sentence like that hit you like a full force flirt and by the time you actually take the camera from his hands, you are positive you are blushing.

You take a few photos of him, his insanely good profile in particular, hoping that you are not drooling all over yourself. “Return the favor?” you ask, lifting your own camera, to which he laughs and extends his hand to you.

Posing is always awkward, period. Posing to a hot stranger is borderline traumatic. You do it anyways, looking away from the camera because you’ve had enough “eye contact” with him to last you a lifetime. Awkwardly standing in front of him, you wait as he checks the photos before smiling up at you and offering the camera back to you. “Perfect.”

“Thanks. Enjoy the rest of Versailles,” you casually announce your departure, feeling relieved and regretful at the same time as you walk away from him, backwards. In all honesty, the kind smile on your face made you want to stick around for a while longer.

“Thanks, you too.”

You turn around and walk away, taking a deep breath to relax yourself. The Louvre awaits – hot strangers will have their turn some other time.  

Four days in Paris were enough for you to start your own list of unpopular, maybe even popular, opinions about the city. You were always interested in the city but never obsessed with it, like many are, so you’d say that your opinions are unbiased, at least to a certain extent.

For example, Parisians are nice and they actually do make an effort to speak English if you ask them something. Of course, not everyone has the same experience but the urban myth of them being condescending, rude and downright ignoring people who speak English was proven to be false.

Yes, the city is gorgeous but it has so much to offer beside a fairly tall tower.

And last, but certainly not least – the Louvre is overrated.

After waiting in rain, again (not the museum’s fault, obviously), you finally got inside, only to proceed and get lost four times. Actual four times, you had no idea where you were and where you were supposed to go next. You were nearly trampled in front of the Mona Lisa, all while watching in shock as the people were pushing each other to try and take a selfie with the iconic painting behind them. That was the first instance when you thought how much you hate people. The next one was when you saw a grown adult, a man in his 30s, grabbing an antique Greek statue by the balls.

It was at that point that the museum walking became torture to you. Paired with its confusing layout and the employees who either truly had no idea how to help you or simply didn’t want to bother with helping a pesky tourist, you ended up wandering aimlessly, looking at everything and nothing at all, wondering how much it would cost to get an exclusive, chaperoned, after-hours tour of the Louvre. Probably too much for someone who’s keeping cheap ramen in their rented apartment.

Muse d’Orsay, your present location, is something else entirely. It is painfully obvious that at least a third of the yesterday’s crowd only went to the Luvre because someone told them they should, you overheard a few say as much, and compared to that, the visitors of Muse d’Orsay came here on their own accord. It is decently full, but not crowded. The only place where you actually had to wait in line was in front of Van Gogh’s artwork, which was to be expected.

The entire place is casual, yet sophisticated, far less confusing compared to the gigantic mess that is The Louvre. You can take your time and go wherever, without having to consult a map and pray that you’re not confusing yourself even further. You can also sit and relax for a little while, which is something your tired feet are extremely grateful for but in a very unusual way, the people around you are making you feel uncomfortable. Most of them are casually sitting and sketching the gigantic clock, the centerpiece of Muse d’Orsay and while observing that is beautiful, it also remindes you that you are, to put it nicely, talentless in the same field.

So you keep on roaming, until you find your place on a bench set before an enormous painting. Definitely three times, if not four, your height, The Women of Gaul has your full attention. The piece is as eerie and hauntingly beautiful as it is confusing – like many times over the last couple of days, you’re not sure where to look first. What catches your attention, bizarrely, is the center character – a woman, standing tall and proud with an angry look on her face and holding a dead baby by the arm.

It appears as if she has killed the baby on her own accord – she’d rather lose everything she has than surrender. Admirable and scary at the same time. With all due respect to the masterpiece, she looks ready to bitchslap some soldiers.

“We meet again, stranger,” you only realize someone is talking to you when they sit a few feet away from you and you nearly choke on dry air when you realize it’s him – the Shakespeare guy, the Versailles guy, your unofficial photographer, in all of his ripped jeans glory.

“Wow,” you laugh. How big is Paris? How many people live here, how many tourists roam the streets every day? And yet three days in a row, you see him. “We keep bumping into each other.”

“Looks like our travel itineraries keep overlapping,” he chuckles. “I’m Jimin, by the way,” he adds, before the silence turns awkward. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” he offers you his hand, which you accept instantly.

“Y/N,” you shake his hand. “So, how’s Paris working out for you?”

“I love it,” he admits, looking away from you to focus on the much less friendlier woman in the painting in front of you. “I like it more than I thought I would, in all honesty.”

“Same here,” you admit, finding it quite easy to talk to him, given that you are usually definitely more apprehensive when it comes to people you don’t know. But hey, you know his name now – that counts, right? “From word of mouth alone, I thought it was a bit overrated but it has its charms. Plenty of them, actually.”

“Museums or city streets?” he asks, turning to look at you again. He has striking, dark eyes that have no trouble looking directly at yours – you, on the other hand, swallow a lump. “Which do you enjoy more?”

“A bit of both, depends on the day,” you sound way more casual than you feel. “You?”

“City streets,” he answers, focusing on the painting again. “Art is amazing but art is art, wherever you are. While cities… they’re all different. Each city has its own thing and as much as I enjoy looking at artwork, I’d rather pick… exploring the city, breathing it in. Polluted air and all.”

“Makes sense,” you agree, knowing just how right he is. A museum is a museum, whether it’s in Paris or the tiniest of towns. It’s fascinating but it’s still a building with four walls and a roof – outside, the streets, the people, the charm distinct to each city – that’s where all the fun is at.

“Have you seen the impressionism area?” he asks.

“Not yet, why?”

“Me neither,” he laughs, confusing you a bit. “Travelling alone is fun but at times it can get painfully dull. I thought maybe you’d want to look around the museum a bit more and then we can go somewhere?”

Oh. Okay. He wants your company. Surprising, yet flattering.

“I’d love to,” you find yourself answering, ignoring all the possible red flags you probably should have not ignored – after all, this is fairly similar to the plot of Taken, and you don’t have a Liam Neeson waiting to rescue you. Mr. Ripped Jeans Jimin has a point – travelling alone can be very dull. With how the two of you have been running into each other for days now, it seems like the universe wants you to have someone to talk to for a while. “Anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

“Montmartre?” he suggests after considering your question for a few seconds. “The stairs in front of Sacré-Cœur are always a good idea?”

He isn’t wrong - Sacré-Cœur is very much on your bucket list – scheduled for tomorrow, right on time to see the sunset. But at the same time, you have no specific plans for this afternoon and Jimin does seem like he could be good company.

Why not?

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, feeling a metaphorical punch to your gut when his face lights up once you agree with his idea. “Let’s see those impressionists first, shall we?”

The language barrier is quite something. Despite knowing a few basic French words and phrases, your pronunciation is so damn tragic, no transaction was possible without the use of English and sometimes, like right now, lots of waving and pointing.

Jimin was looking at you in amusement while you desperately tried to explain that you need one chocolate croissant. By the point the lady behind the counter understood what you wanted, you were more than happy to leave with whatever the hell she’d give you, even if it’s not your precious croissant.

“Do you want something? Are you hungry?” you ask, wanting to treat him to some food since he insisted on paying for the bottle of wine that is currently in his backpack.

He nods, proceeding to speak to state his order in what sounds like fluent French. “I got some for you too,” he tells you as he elegantly stands in front of you, taking out his wallet and smiling as he sees that you are about to protest. “No way,” he shakes his head. “I’m paying – I ordered more. Besides, if you are buying the chocolate croissant, you obviously have no idea what you’re doing.”

A comment like that could have sounded extremely condescending coming from anyone else, but from Jimin, with his kind smile? No way. “You did not just diss a chocolate croissant!”

“Oh, yes I did,” he chuckles as he rushes to offer money before you can – defeated, but a little glad, you return your wallet into the bag, thinking how maybe you will treat yourself to more than instant ramen for your lunch tomorrow. “I love chocolate as much as the next guy but the raisin one? Hell, even the plain one – much better,” he tells as he takes the bag and exits the bakery, leaving you to follow him.

“I’m all for experimenting but come on – it’s a chocolate croissant. It can’t be bad.”

“I’ve never said it was bad,” he laughs at you as you finally catch up with him and the two of you walk side by side. “I’ve just said others were better, which you will confirm once you try them. Now – do we walk or do we waste money on the lift?”

How can a question so simple be so complicated? Your feet hurt, you’ve walked more since you landed in Paris than you have the whole last month – of course you want to take the lift and avoid unnecessary stairs. On the other hand, stairs pretty much guarantee that you will have more time to spend with Jimin and so far, he’s been a decent companion.

“How about… we take the lift to go up and we walk on our way down?” you suggest.

“Deal.”

He didn’t have a chance to see Montmarte either, he tells you on your way up. Much like you, he had a schedule and he kept to it. Until today, when he spontaneously dropped his plans and invited you to spend the rest of the day with him. You did not have solid plans to begin with, so it wasn’t much of a change, save from the fact that you were in good company.

And good company he was – surprisingly, there weren’t many moments of awkward silence as the two of you tried to find a place that fits you both – that was a challenge, seeing as many people have gathered to enjoy the view, a nice drink and an impromptu performance by buskers. In the corner of the stairs, a little bit away from the crowd, the two of you sit and it’s a matter of seconds before Jimin is opening the bottle of wine with a swiss knife he pulled out of his bag – a bag that looks like it costs more than your monthly rent – not that you were paying any attention to it.

“So…” he starts, pausing to smile at you as he gives you your cup, before moving on to fill his own. “Tell me something about yourself. I only know your name and that we live in the same city.”

“And yet somehow we’ve met on a different continent,” you add, smiling when he ‘clinks’ his plastic cup against yours. “What would you like to know?”

“Anything,” he shrugs, nodding in approval at the taste of the wine. “Why Paris? Why alone? What’s your favorite color? An actor you hate but can’t explain why? Tell me anything.”

“Why Paris? Why not Paris? There are so many places I want to see, cities I want to explore and it all had to start somewhere. My friend had wanted to see Paris while I was pretty much up for anything. Of course, she then decided that Ibiza with her boytoy sounds like a better idea than Paris with her friend,” you add, sounding just a little bitter. It’s not the nicest thing she has done but you’ll get over it.

“And your boyfriend was not interested in the beauty of France?”

Now you are confused. His raised eyebrow and tiny, barely there smile, tell you that he is absolutely asking about your boyfriend for no other reason but to confirm whether or not you have one. However, this wouldn’t be the first time for you to completely misread signs and confuse flirting with casual conversation. You decide to play it safe and not waste time on reading between the lines.

“Don’t have one,” you shrug, looking away from him and focusing on the buskers. “It does get quite boring after a while. It would be nice to have a travel partner.”

“And if you don’t, you can always ask a random, kind stranger to take your photos for you?” you join in on his laugh, glad that you spoke up that day in front of ‘Shakespeare and Company’. If you hadn’t, chances are you wouldn’t have a conversation in Versailles, which then would not continue today.

If he can do it, so can you – the can of worms is wide open. “And what does your girlfriend say about you traveling without her?” you asks, before backtracking quickly. “Or boyfriend. Or one of each, really,” you add, making him laugh.

God, there really is no smooth way to ask about the relationship status of someone you barely know, someone you’re not even completely sure you like. If two are at a club, where the music is loud and they can’t even keep a conversation, ‘are you single’ is completely acceptable. And that setting is perfect for a rejection – if they say no, you just dance away to your drink or to the next person.

This? It’s a warm day in Paris and you are surrounded by people of all ages, families even. You have been talking about the city, travelling, art and now what, ‘are you single’ or ‘would you be interested in sleeping with me’ is the next topic of conversation? No, it doesn’t work that way. Especially when you’re not even sure what you want, much less what he wants.

“Well, I don’t have either of the two so I can’t really answer that,” is that a hint of a smirk you see on his face? Okay, you may not be a champion at flirting but it looks like things are heading that way.

“Interesting,” you mumble, earning an eyebrow raise from him. Shit. You panic and focus on the plastic cup full of wine, hoping that if you drink enough of it fast, the blush that is taking over your face can be attributed to the alcohol. It doesn’t help – you move the cup away and meet his eyes, only to find him obviously waiting for you to explain your comment.

“Are you going to explain why that’s interesting on your own or should I ask about it and force you to elaborate?” he asks and you immediately turn to your cup, making him laugh, loudly, in a way that makes his eyes crinkle and his whole body move.

“I’m awkward, please don’t make it any worse,” you tell him, a part of you hoping he won’t hear you.

“As you wish,” he is still laughing and you still want to die of embarrassment. That being said, him teasing you is a good sign, you think. Now, you’re fairly certain that you absolutely are in the flirting territory and while that doesn’t make things easier for you one bit, at least now you know you perhaps won’t make a fool of yourself if you are more straightforward. Or maybe you will. Who knows?! “Y/N, do you believe in destiny?” he asks and while you’re glad the topic is changed… really?

“That’s such a broad question,” you chuckle, pausing to think about it for a second. “I suppose I do, but you’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that. What kind of destiny?”

“Okay… first, do you believe that it’s all planned out? Like, your entire life?” he asks.

“Hardly,” you answer immediately, having thought about that already, many times in your life. “I suppose that to a certain extent, it is destiny. Like… the situations that you will be put in. But your reactions to said situations are your own. Destiny can’t control how you, or the people in your life, react to something. So I guess… no?” you try to sum it up, laughing at your own rant.

“Makes sense,” he agrees as he leans back, now almost lying down on the staircase, propped on his elbow as he looks away from you and towards the magnificent view of Paris. You realize once again that he looks like a full course meal, skinny jeans and all, and you reach for your plastic cup for solace, again. “Some things are set in stone… like where you’re born, who your parents are, maybe even who you’re going to be in life. But not the tiny details… like what kind of friend you are, if you can cook or not, who will be your first kiss and so on… Is that what you meant?” he asks, suddenly turning his eyes on you and faced with them, you nearly choke on the drink you’ve been hiding behind.

Damn him and his eyes. And his smirk. And yes, his ripped skinny jeans too.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“And what about us?” he asks, smirking your way again. “We’ve been running into each other all over Paris… that’s why I thought that there has to be a reason behind it… don’t you agree?”

“Could be,” you agree, knowing that no matter how skeptical you might be about the concept of destiny, even you have to admit that the amount of times the two of you have crossed paths this week is something unusual. “You think it was destined for two of us to meet and hang out on these stairs?”

“Why not?” he laughs, sensing the trace of skepticism behind your words, even though you mostly agreed with him. “I can accept that not every cute girl I meet is destiny playing its tune but we couldn’t have avoided each other even if we tried, could we?”

You’re cute. Okay. You can live with that. You can definitely live with that.

“What else does destiny want us to do?”

You’ll admit it, you feel bolder now, knowing how shamelessly he had admitted that he obviously thinks you’re cute. Sure, you’re not nearly as bold as you wish you were but… step by step?

“Well, there’s this party down at the 8th Arrondissement that I thought of going to. Nothing huge, just a regular club. We don’t have to, if you don’t feel like partying. If you do, we can sit here for a while longer and then take a cab down there or something?” he suggests.

First he thinks you’re cute. Then he wants you to go clubbing. Sure, he isn’t hitting on you per se, but he obviously wants to spend more time with you and knowing that makes you feel like you’ve won the lottery. Maybe it’s the butterflies that you’re feeling now, after ages of them being MIA, maybe it’s the way Jimin looks at you, with the tiniest of smirks gracing his face, or maybe it’s just Jimin himself – you’re not sure and frankly, it doesn’t matter. Bottom line is, he wants to spend more time with you and despite you not really giving a shit about destiny, you do want to spend more time with him too.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

And then he goes and bites his lip, mid-smile.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell you’ll survive clubbing with him. But you’ll be damned if you don’t try.

It didn’t take you long to realize that Jimin is a piece of work, in the best ways.

He is confident when approaching strangers, whether it was you, earlier today, or a random person to ask if the two of you could join their table. He can handle his drink and he does, in fact, drink quite a bit. His behavior doesn’t change – he’s still smiley, friendly, his words never slurring, his walk as perfect and sexy as it was when he was 100% sober – the only real change in his appearance is that three tequila shots in, he’s red in the face.

You? You’ve stopped drinking one shot ago, not wanting to push yourself into the state of ‘please fuck me in the alley behind this park, Mr. Stranger’ because you do tend to turn clingy after drinking a bit too much. No, this time around, you’ve kept yourself tipsy enough to throw away some inhibitions but sober enough to not jump on the guy in the middle of a crowded club.

And lord almighty, it is crowded.

You would have never thought that Parisians and a couple of tourists would be this into 90s trash music but here you are, dancing the night away with a hot as hell stranger to the tune of ‘Be My Lover’. You’ve been dancing nonstop for what feels like hours, the only break happening when he goes to the bar to get the two of you drinks and you take that chance to lean against the wall to catch your breath.

You want to chastise yourself for trusting a stranger with your drink but after debating it while you were still sober, you’ve come to the conclusion that you’re going to trust said stranger. 

Taking a deep breath, you rummage through your bag, trying to find something to cool yourself down with, settling for a brochure you had picked up in Musée d'Orsay earlier today. You fan yourself, staying comfortably away from the crowd that’s dancing like their life depends on it.

It’s hot, it’s crowded, you’re tipsy and if you’re being completely honest, you’re turned on. Yes, in a tiny, dark, hole of a club, with a 90s eurodance song in Spanish blasting through the speakers, you can still manage to feel that way and it’s solely because of him.

For the past two hours, he has been flirting with you in ways that make you wonder if he’s actually flirting of he’s a hallucination of your deranged mind.

He hasn’t stopped touching you all night, but he does so in ways that are not… obvious. He holds your hand while you are walking through the crowd. He puts his hands on your waist while you’re dancing, but they’re positioned in a way that makes you think he just enjoys having a dance partner, not that he wants to fuck your brains out. He is close, but not close enough to make you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wants to kiss you. It’s driving you insane and you’re feeling hot – literally and metaphorically.

The song changed to something a bit more bearable for listening, but still trashy enough, when you finally felt your body relaxing and calming down after the onslaught of senses it has been through in the last two hours. However, the moment you think you’ll manage to cool your head, you see him.

It’s not that he is hot. Sure, he is hot as hell and nice on the eyes, which is something you see others noticing, as they turn their heads while he walks past them, drinks in hand. It’s not that he is so damn charming, although that plays a part too. What’s really getting to you is simply the way he looks at you.

Even now, in the crowd, as he makes his way to your little makeshift hideaway, his eyes are directly on you. He’s not even paying attention on if he’s spilling your drinks or not – nope, he is looking right at you. And despite the feeling of panic that causes, you can’t look away. You can’t hide from it, you can’t fight it – you just have to keep eye contact with him, even though you feel like weak prey.

You’d lie if you say that there weren’t moments when his eyes would look… elsewhere. Your lips, your neck or at the tiny trace of cleavage your shirt lets him see (is that one a blessing or a curse?)…  That you could deal with, as much as you were figuratively on fire. But a man with confidence to look you directly in the eyes, all the time? Yeah, you’ve kind of wanted die.

Especially now, with him sliding through the cracks between people, smiling your way, eyes burning into yours. With mere seconds to get yourself ready for him, you take a deep breath, thanking your lucky stars that he looked away, enough to put your drinks on the table next to you.

“I know you didn’t want anything, but I got you a cocktail in case you change your mind later,” he tells you and the only reason you actually understand every word he is saying is because you are staring at his lips. The music is loud, loud enough to make you want to come closer to him and ask him to repeat his words but at this point, you are a certified lip reader because good god, his lips.

“That’s okay.”

You wanted to say more, you really did, but the moment he put those drinks down, his hands were on your waist and he was close now, closer than he was before, with just an inch of space between your face and his. And even this close, even with a damn inch between the two of you, he stares into your eyes, directly into your eyes, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. And frankly, he most likely does.

“Let’s dance, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You let him take you down into the crowd again, not even noticing the loss of your precious brochure you’ve used as a makeshift fan. You let him stay close to you and you let him keep his hands on you at all times. You let him take over your entire mind, knowing that at this point, you can’t think of anything that isn’t him.

Where? Where are guys like these? Where are guys who are confident, funny, charming and sexy, without trying to get into your pants like desperate teenagers? He has the right amount of everything and a part of you wonders where are others like him? But with him in front of you, directly in front of you, with barely an inch of thin air between you, does it really matter?

You’ve given up, totally and completely. You let him eat you up with his eyes, sway your hips to the beats of bad music in any direction he wants, smiling back at him when he smiles at you.

He is closer now, even closer than before, your noses brushing against each other every other moment. He is closer and you feel like you’re going to faint if he doesn’t do something, anything really.

It’s a weird feeling to describe. You don’t know what you want but you want it, bad. And while in theory, it would be easy to take the last step and just kiss him, you can’t do it. What’s stopping you – you don’t know, you really don’t. Yes, he hasn’t explicitly said that he wants you to do anything but his actions speak enough on their own. You could close the space between the two of you and end the misery but you can’t. Something is stopping you and at this point, it feels suffocating.

All of it. Him, the crowd, the sweaty bodies all around you – it’s too much. You need fresh air. Right now.

“What time is it?” you yell at him and you can see he’s surprised – you’ve mostly been quiet, overcome with everything else to form rational thoughts. Not only that, but you’re asking about time, of all things.

“Almost 1:30AM,” he tells you, after glancing on his wristwatch, before returning the hand back on your waist. “Why? Do you want to leave?” he asks and for one second, one damn second, you see a trace of something other than pure confidence on his face. It’s not insecurity or worry, not even disappointment. It looks like a mix of all three and something else, but it’s all very faint and lasts for barely a second before he smiles at you. “It’s okay if you do. Truly.”

“It’s not that I want to leave,” you mumble, before remembering you’re in a damn club. So, you close the space between the two of you and put your lips to his ear, brushing his skin as you speak. “It’s not that I want to leave. But I need some fresh air. We can come back if you want to.”

“You want me to go with you?” he asks as you pull away and you nod. “You sure?” he asks, looking at you with worry in his eyes. He’s questioning it, if only a little bit, probably worried that you’re running away and he’s being pushy. Which isn’t the truth. You are running away, but not from him, not exactly.

“Yes,” you laugh, taking his hand, as if to show that you mean it. He smiles back at you and leads the way. You think he’d go back to your borrowed table, so that he can finish his drink but he doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he leads the way to the area where you left your bags in exchange for 5 euros.

Seeing as you are the only ones leaving this early, the exchange for your stuff is quick and by the time you are breathing in the cool Paris air, it hasn’t been more than a few minutes since you’ve expressed your desire to leave. And the cool air helps. Well, it’s either the cool air or the fact that Jimin isn’t attached to you at this moment. With a bit of distance between you, you can actually use your brain.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he watches you take deep breaths. “We can walk it off if you’ve had too much to drink? I can walk you back to your place if you want to leave?” he suggests.

“No,” you smile at him, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by how helpful he is, as well as worried. “I’m not wasted. I don’t even know if I’m tipsy anymore,” you tell him. Sure, you might not be tipsy from the alcohol but he is a different story – you are very much drunk on him. But you won’t tell him that. “I just needed a bit of air. Maybe we can walk? Then come back or something?”

“Sure, yeah,” he nods and you lead the way. “You know, we don’t have to come back here because of me. I’m perfectly fine with just walking around. We can go somewhere else or find a bench to sit on. I can call a cab for you if you want to go back to your place.”

“I’m enjoying tonight very much,” you reassure him. There are… so many other things that you’d like to say, about him and the way he makes you feel, but you just… don’t have the balls to do so. So you simply settle with reassuring him that you’re enjoying the night. “Let’s just walk around and then figure out what we want to do next. The same goes for you – I’m fine with doing whatever you want to do.”

“You know, the last light show of the night is at 2AM,” he tells you, glancing at his watch quickly. “We can still catch it, if you’d like to. Maybe we even have time to go to the tower itself but we can definitely make it to Trocadéro on time?” he suggests and even though you normally refuse to be such a basic tourist, a huge part of you is excited at the thought of seeing the tower light up.

“I haven’t seen it yet. You want to go?” you ask, continuing with the tradition he had started of questioning everything for whatever reason.

“Sure, let’s go.”

There are people roaming around the area – of course there are, it’s Paris, there are tourists in every nook and cranny of the damn city. However, the numbers are smaller than they were when you went here the other day. You were definitely not alone but you did manage to find a section of the fence where no one was waiting with their cameras ready. Which is exactly what the two of you are doing now, waiting to capture the perfect moment of the tower lighting up.

You’ve been fairly quiet since you’ve left the club but it wasn’t the negative kind of silence, not at all. It was the silence that comes after a slightly overwhelming moment. You’re not sure if Jimin feels the same and if he does, he sure didn’t show it, but he was quiet along with you, speaking up only when you do, smiling your way whenever you’ve felt brave enough to make direct eye contact. It was comfortable and it made you realize just how much you have let this total stranger get under your skin.

“Doesn’t this feel a bit like the New Year’s countdown?” you ask, adjusting your camera so that the tower is right in the center of it – as much as Jimin is overwhelming, you still want to capture a decent photograph. It’s a once in a lifetime event. At least for us, non-Parisian commoners.

“It does,” he chuckles. “Ah, here we go!”

It’s impossible not to laugh at all the sighs of wonder you hear coming from around you. Yes, it’s a beautiful sight but… come on! It’s not a natural phenomenon; it’s a tower with lights on it! You sense Jimin reacting to it the same way you do, laughing a bit at the amazement of everyone around you but still taking a photo and enjoying the moment.

“Wait, let me take a photo of you,” he tells you and to your surprise, he doesn’t ask for your camera – he simply steps back with his. You don’t say anything and you try not to think too much of it but at the very least you are now expecting an exchange of social media or emails, knowing that you now have a perfect excuse of contacting him. Unable to hide a smile at the realization, you try to strike a casual pose, all while feeling like a complete idiot because he is looking at you again. “Wait,” he suddenly says and walks back up to you, reaching his hand closer to your face. “May I?”

You nod, not even sure what exactly you’re agreeing to here. Gently, he runs his hand through your hair, similar to the way he runs it through his own hair a few times a minute, messing it up a little bit. You don’t exactly have a mirror on you right now, but you imagine it’s the cute kind of messy, not the messy kind of messy. Why would he want you to look like shit for the photo? So, you let him, trying to ignore the way your pulse races because of him being so close. “There,” he steps away from you, smiling.

“Messy enough?” you joke, laughing when he does.

“It’s not messy, it’s sexy,” he tells you and yeah, your stupid heart is in overdrive, the butterflies in your stomach wilding and your face absolutely blushing. “It’s cute, natural. It’s more you than the preppy pose you’ve just tried to pull off,” and now he kind of insulted you.

“Hey!” you snap back, unable to keep a straight face when he starts laughing again. “You’ve known me for a few hours, how do you know preppy poses aren’t my thing?”

“I just know,” he shrugs. “Now act natural. Smile.”

You wanted to fight him back in a passive aggressive way and remain preppy but you just can’t – not with him making you smile. So you smile and giggle, pretending like he doesn’t have a camera in front of his face. If he wants you to be natural, you’re going to be natural.

After a few shots, he moves the camera away from his face and gives you the most blinding smile he had given you so far.

“Your turn,” you order him, unsure how you can even talk anymore. You feel like jelly on the inside and it’s actually quite worrying, seeing as you haven’t felt like this many times in your life. Of course, you liked people, you dated people, hell you’ve even loved a guy or two! But god good, they’re not Jimin. The guy has it all and all of it is affecting you in ways you didn’t know you could be affected.

You swallow a few lumps as you try to focus on the tower too, and not just him, because yes, it kind of needs to be in the picture too and that is the whole point of this, isn’t it? It takes you a few tries but you end up with a good shot. No matter how tonight ends, you’ll have a palpable memory of Jimin saved in your camera and you’d be lying to yourself if you say that doesn’t make you feel a bit more at ease.

“How can something be so tacky and so breathtakingly beautiful at the same time?” you ask while walking back towards the fence, letting the camera dangle around your neck as you stand next to Jimin.

“It really is amazing, isn’t it?” he chuckles. This time around, you are the one shamelessly staring – he is too preoccupied with looking at the tower. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if it’s Paris, or just tonight or maybe even you, but everything feels so… I don’t know, honestly,” he laughs, shaking his head as if he’s in disbelief. “I guess I’m just… really enjoying tonight.”

Here he is, this… beautiful, hot, kind, charming stranger, right next to you. Just a few days ago, he was no more than a fellow tourist. Just a few days ago, you didn’t think much of him. Today was a different story. Today, he didn’t let you push him into the back of your mind. Today he had made himself the focus of your day, night and quite frankly, this whole damn trip.

You don’t have to see him ever again if you don’t want to. If destiny keeps messing with you, you might run into him back home but by then, enough time would have passed for you to be able to keep your cool. If it goes good… it’ll go good. And if it goes bad, you can go back to pretending like none of this ever happened, and that your whole Parisian escapade was not Jimin centric. It might be easier said than done but you’re a tough cookie. You can do it.

Why not go for it? Seriously Y/N, why not go for it?

So you do.

You step closer to him and reach your hand out, putting it on his cheek and turning him to face you – he doesn’t have enough time to react properly but you can see the flash of surprise on his face. There is no time for him to say or do anything, because you lean in and press your lips to his.

Fuck it. Seriously, just fuck it. You’re here, he’s here and with doing practically nothing, he’d made you feel more than you’ve felt in months. As tacky as it is, you truly do only live once and you know yourself well enough to know you’d end up regretting not doing this.

You might regret it anyways, who knows. But you’d eat yourself away if you hadn’t gone for it.

You’d be lying if you said that the kiss is magical. Really, it’s awkward. Your lips are not much in comparison to his beautifully plump ones and while that could be overpowering, he technically isn’t moving. What you thought would be a kiss that would rock your world, ends up being nothing more than one slightly longer peck because he isn’t moving.

You can feel it – you’ve fucked up. You went for it and in hindsight, you shouldn’t have. Feeling absolutely mortified by his lack of response, you pull away, feeling even worse when you see the way he’s looking at you – no awe, no surprise, no excitement. He doesn’t look pissed either, or confused. It’s difficult to describe it but he’s almost… scowling at you.

You’ve fucked it up. But that’s okay. At least you won’t wonder about the ‘what ifs’.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away from him quickly. As much as you’re trying to reassure yourself that it’s better to know than to wonder, you’re absolutely dying on the inside. If there’s a hole near here in which you could hide, right this second, you’d go there. Alas, you’re out in the open and have to deal with the mess you’ve made. “I guess I’ve misread the signals. I-“

With his hand on your back, he pulls you smack into his chest, not leaving any room between the two of you whatsoever. All that you see is him leaning into you with his eyes closed.

It’s not a peck – it’s anything but a peck. His lips guide yours to open and not even a second later, you feel his tongue moving against yours. He pulls you even closer to him, your bodies practically stuck together, with your hands squished between you. You feel him run his other hand through your hair, turning your head a bit towards the side so that he can have more access to you, as if he hadn’t had enough to begin with. His tongue is relentless and you’re absolutely sure that you’re about to faint, knees barely managing to keep your body standing.

You have never been kissed like this. Definitely not in public.

He pulls away slowly, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he goes. He’s not scowling like he was moments ago, but he’s also not the cute, smiley Jimin he was for the better part of the day.

And you? You’re honestly struggling to breathe. A kiss is a surprise itself but a kiss like that is not something that’s easy to survive. You’re well aware that you’re practically panting because of him but it’s hardly something you can hide. You’re affected and you’re going to be affected, no matter how embarrassed you are about it.

“If you’re going to kiss me,” his voice is low, much lower than before and it’s not helping your situation at all. “You should kiss me like you mean it.”

Fuck everything.

You grab his shirt and pull him towards you once again.

Life works in mysterious ways. Just this morning, you were a regular tourist, doing regular tourist things, sticking to your itinerary as you try to cram all of Paris into one week. And now? Now you’re pressed up against a wall of a random building in a part of town you haven’t ventured into before, making out with the hottest guy you have ever met, who is also pretty much still a stranger.

You don’t even care about how uncomfortable you are in this position – him kissing you makes it all better, very literally. He is a marvelous kisser – hungry, but not overpowering, with lips for days. He smells of cologne you have never smelt before but somehow know you won’t be able to forget anytime soon. Even the soft cotton of his white shirt that your hand is digging into feels heavenly.

Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. All you can focus on is Jimin, to the point of even almost managing to ignore a whistle directed towards the two of you.

You’ve had it coming, really – almost dry humping in the middle of the street. When Jimin starts to pull away, probably because of the wolf whistle, you still chase after him, desperately trying to keep your lips stuck together. He still moves away but not too far – he nuzzles into your neck, leaving you gasping for air at the feel of his lips attacking your neck.

Is it too far? Maybe. But too far is the exact direction in which you want to go.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” you suggest. You’ve never directly propositioned sex to someone you weren’t in a relationship with and while you were internally panicking, you also know he probably won’t refuse you. Unless the thing you’re feeling against your thigh is his phone and not him being happy to see you. “My airnbn is a bit far but we can go there?” you suggest, not wanting to be too direct and invite yourself to his place. Honestly, you’d even go into a public toilet at this point, but you’ll keep that bit of information to yourself.

He doesn’t respond immediately and you would have worried about it, if he wasn’t preoccupied with biting your neck, with enough force to leave marks and make you want to crumble. You shudder, actually shudder with pleasure as you feel his tongue run over your skin. “The place I’m staying at is just a few minutes away,” he finally speaks up, stepping away from you for the first time in what feels like forever. “Do you want to go there?” he asks.

The way he looks at you tells you he’s asking you more than to just go over to the place he’s staying at. You know it, he knows it. Even though it was your suggestion, he is still checking in with you, despite probably already knowing that you’d agree to pretty much anything. You laugh at his question.

“Jimin… I’m… I’m more than fine with going to your place, yeah,” you settled for that. Letting him know that you’d let him fuck you in the middle of the street, right here, right now, might be a bit too forward of you. Incredibly accurate but perhaps too forward.

The beaming smile you get from him when you agree serves like a confirmation to yourself that no, this is absolutely not a bad idea. This is everything you’ve hoped for but didn’t think would happen. This is the brief romance that novels are written about, a story you might remember when 30 years from now, your 20something-year-old daughter goes on her first trip to Paris and you remember him. Jimin will be your story, one that you might revisit often, depending on how the night ends.

Taking your hand in his, he leads the way and you follow blindly, enjoying his touch even during simple handholding. You want to do more, so much more, but if you do, you’ll never get to your end destination. Jimin must have sensed that, because the two of you are walking faster than you did this whole day – now you actually have a goal in mind. And what a goal that will be.

“Not to bring the mood down but we could have been going to your place a lot sooner if you’d kissed me back in the club,” you admit. Maybe that was a little bit unnecessary but you want to break the silence between you – and if you can compliment him in the process, why not?

“Hmm, maybe,” he sighs, suddenly letting go of your hand, only to hug you around the waist and pull you into his side, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re not the only one that was worried about misreading some signals. I wanted to be sure, so I consciously waited for you to do something.”

“Thank fuck I did because that was a close one,” you laugh in disbelief, amazed to know how close you were to this simply never happening.

“Not gonna lie, I was worried,” he laughs too, giving you another quick peck. You’re positive that you’re blushing again. Every time he kisses you, your stomach does somersaults, excited at the thought of him wanting to kiss you as much as you want to kiss him. Which is a lot. More than a lot. “I’m glad you mustered the courage to kiss a guy that’s quite obviously wanted to kiss you all afternoon.”

“For future notice – be more direct,” you warn him through laughter. The lucky girl who gets to experience him next deserves to be spared the inner turmoil you’ve went through. He spent the entire night dancing on the line between being very direct and not direct enough. One step in either direction would have settled your dilemma, so hopefully the next person will have more luck.

“I’m a bit preoccupied with you right now, thanks,” he chuckles as he sneaks his hand down to your ass and squeezes it shamelessly. You jump up in surprise but don’t feel particularly troubled about being in public, seeing as there is no public around you, at all. It’s just the two of you, walking along the river, the boats moored along the way seemingly empty. Feeling brave, braver than you ever remember feeling, you’re the one who initiates the kiss this time, making sure to show him how much you want this. You move slowly, enjoy the feeling of taking the lead and the lazy movements of your tongues, interrupted only when you feel the need to bite his bottom lip, which is way more often than you’d be willing to admit. Somehow, you once again end up being sandwiched between him and the half wall behind you. Seizing the opportunity, you sit on the half wall, pulling Jimin towards you by the belt – his hands find their way to your waist as he situates himself between your legs. This time around you’re sure it’s not his phone you’re feeling. It’s a very prominent bulge, noticeable enough to make you salivate at the very thought of what’s hidden. You’re not the only one acting braver – for the first time tonight, Jimin’s hands find their way under your shirt, eliciting goosebumps on your back almost immediately.

It’s when his fingers move to the front and graze your bra that you remember the two of you are still very much out in the open. And while at this point you wouldn’t particularly mind letting him have you here and now, the last thing you want to add to your Paris story is being arrested for indecent exposure.

“If you keep kissing me like this, we’ll never get to your place,” you warn him and contradict yourself immediately, attacking his neck with bites that make him sigh and shudder.

“Thank fuck we’re already here.”

You reluctantly detach yourself from his neck, looking around in confusion – you don’t see a house around you, at all. There’s nothing but the walkway and the park across the street. And as much as you like Jimin, you’re not going to fuck him on a bench which he sleeps on. He sees your confusion and nods towards the river. It takes you a bit too long to connect the dots.

“You’ve rented a houseboat?!” you ask in surprise and he gives you a quick kiss, pulling away with a smile.

“Of course,” he chuckles. “Hotels are boring. Boats are awesome.”

“Who even rents a boathouse?” you ask in wonder, all the while feeling slightly pissed at yourself because why the hell didn’t you think of that? It sure would beat your tiny airbnb, with a building that has no damn stairs – nothing but an elevator. Why would you be locked in such a claustrophobic space when you can have a damn boat? Lesson learned.

“I do,” he smirks at you. “And tonight, I’m going to fuck a very beautiful girl on that boat. So I guess it was a good call. Don’t you agree?”

“Yep. Wholeheartedly. You win.”

You know you’re going to die of embarrassment when he realizes just how wet he’s made you but you’re past the point of caring. With the words he says and the way he kisses you, you and your pussy never stood a chance.

Before you can kiss him again and prolong the wait, he takes your hand and leads the way, first down a set of concrete stairs and then towards the second houseboat in a row; it’s close to the ones on its side, but not too close for comfort. Climbing up the stairs that lead to the impromptu balcony on the boat, you immediately realize the appeal of choosing housing like this – once you can take your eyes away from Jimin’s ass, that is. No, once you are not looking at it, you can appreciate the view the boat has – you can even see the Eiffel tower, a bit down the river. The deck has a huge table, a few chairs and way more plants that a boat deck needs. It looks comfortable, beautiful and with how easily accessible it is, just a bit dangerous. All the words you can use to describe the man who is now kissing your neck, standing behind you as you reach and lean yourself on the boat rail, hoping it is safe.

“I see you’re an exhibitionist,” you laugh when he pulls you back so that your ass is right against his crotch and good god, you can feel how hard he is as he rolls his hips against you.

“No. Maybe just a little,” he chuckles. You laugh too, until you feel one of his hands leave your hips and reach for the button on your jeans. You gulp, eyes widening and as if he can sense your alert, he doesn’t unbutton them immediately. “You?” he asks. God, consent is so fucking sexy.

You’ve never dabbled in it, never really thought about it either but now, in this predicament? “Maybe just a little,” your voice is low as you give him permission. You weren’t joking when you thought that he can do anything he wants, were you? It doesn’t matter, because you said yes and holy fuck, his hand is going down your pants.

You jolt immediately and how could you not, when he went straight for your clit, right off the bat. Jimin does not play around, that much is obvious. You can only pray the fence is secure enough to keep you out of the water.

“Didn’t think you’d be this turned on by foreplay in public,” he laughs directly in your ear because the moment he ran his fingers against your slit, you threw your head back to lean onto him more, afraid of your legs actually turning into jelly because of him. “I’m proven wrong.”

“You don’t know me well enough to assume my sexual preferences,” somehow, you manage to laugh and remain sassy, thought that is cut short the moment he returns his attention to your clit, circling it very, very slowly. “But I suppose you found out some.”

“And I have the whole night to learn, don’t I, Y/N?”

“You do,” you bite your lip to hold back a moan because he started rubbing his fingers against you, the sudden change from slow to fast catching you off guard.

“You don’t have to keep quiet baby,” he presses a quick kiss against your neck, pushing you more into the rail as he rubs himself against your ass in a manner that almost has you begging for more. You are, internally, but not aloud. Not yet, at least. “I don’t think anyone could hear you down here. And I know I want to.”

“Duly noted,” you moan out because he presses his fingers into you harder – with the pressure and the speed, you know you’re going to fall apart way sooner than you’d though.

There has to be some flaw, right? He cannot be this perfect, no human being can be this perfect. If you were to stick around long enough, maybe you’d find a personality trait of his that makes him less perfect than what he is now, in your eyes, but you won’t be staying long enough to find out. For tonight, you’re more than fine with letting him be your little perfection.

“Let’s go inside?” he suggests as he drags his hand away from you and that is by far the worst thing he had done the whole night. You never want him to stop touching you, but that can be arranged at a more appropriate location. You nod, or so you think you do, unsure of your movements and thoughts, and you let him pull you by the hand and towards the door, pausing to fumble with the keys.

He opens the door and you stumble inside as he puts his bag on a hallway table – you choose to throw yours on the ground, waiting for him to turn on the lights. The moment you can see him clearly, the passion takes over you.

Driven by it, you all but slam him into the wall, almost laughing as his eyes widen in surprise. You don’t though – you don’t laugh, you don’t say anything. You simply reach for the hem of his shirt and lift it up slowly, making sure that your fingers cross every inch of skin you uncover. Seeing him shiver is worth the torture you’re putting yourself through, because a part of you wants to drop to the floor and start unbuckling his belt. You fight your own instincts, wanting and hoping to give him at least a fraction of the pleasure he had given you just moments ago.

Soft to the touch but very well defined, his body is a work of art that could rival those that you have spent the last few days observing. The tattoo you discover on his ribs serves as a perfect imperfection, a blemish on the canvas that somehow looks so right. Gulping, you let him take off his shirt and as soon as he does, you’re against him, kissing those lips of his again.

You don’t stay there long – slowly traveling under his chin, down his neck and all over his chest, staying there long enough, pressing soft kisses and licks until he is properly panting. When his hips roll, subconsciously looking for any kind of friction, you decide to move further down, slowly kissing a trail down his stomach, looking up at him, enjoying the sight of him so visibly… distraught. The moment your eyes meet, he closes his. And now you know you’re doing it right, if for the first time he is the one afraid of eye contact and how deadly it can be.

“You’re killing me,” he chuckles nervously, his voice breathless. And you simply smile, slowly unbuckling his belt and pushing the pants down to his knees as slow as you possibly can. You want to offer a remark about how he’s clearly enjoying it but his cock is one major distraction, in the best way possible.

He’s hard and ready, the sight filling you with instant pride because you know that you did that. You made him like this. A little bit pliant, a little bit breathless and very much not ready for what’s about to come. He’s hard, twitching under your gaze, making your mouth water. You still take it slow, enjoying the pace set to tease him – slowly licking the tip of his dick, smiling as you watch his Adam’s apple bob from above you – he still can’t look at you.

“I love how you’ve been staring me down the whole night and now you can’t handle looking at me,” you admit as you slowly drag your hand up and down his cock. Of course, now he opens his eyes and looks down on you but the lump he swallows shows you that even though he responed to your challenge, he is still very much affected and you’re living for it.

“I see you like to tease,” is what he says, making you smile.

“Very much,” you nod, giving him a quick lick that is followed by another muffled curse coming from him. “But I can be kind too,” you conclude, before finally taking him into your mouth properly.

It’s a bit of a challenge but you are more than happy to take it, slowly sinking your mouth up and down his dick, enjoying the symphony of noises that is coming from him. Every sigh, every curse, every moan – it all just makes you even more adamant to give him the best head of his life.

“Fuck Y/N,” he barely manages to say, moaning as you speed up your movements. He gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly starts guiding you faster, eyeing your reaction, despite being momentarily distracted by the sight of you taking all of him into your mouth. “Fuck, you look so… You’re gonna make me come,” he lets out a slightly panicked laughter, gently pushing you away from him, to which you pout. Despite not being that big on blowjobs, giving one to Jimin felt somewhat like a privilege and you wouldn’t admit that lightly. Not wanting to stop completely, you squeeze him in your hand, slowly moving up and down, watching as he goes through another crisis. “Y/N,” he laughs in warning, making you stop, albeit reluctantly.

“Isn’t it the point to make you come?” you ask but still stand up when his hands grab yours by the elbows and he lifts you up to stand next to him.

“Absolutely,” his eyes don’t leave your lips and he gives you a quick kiss, biting into your bottom lip hard enough to earn a moan. “But not like that, not before I fuck you. Not before I have my way with you.”

The smile on his face looks sinister enough to make you even wetter than you were moments ago. He doesn’t sound like a man who makes promises lightly and you get your confirmation as he puts his hands on your hips and starts pushing you back towards the room behind you. You’re too fucked out to notice anything other than the fairly modern design of the furniture around you. Before you can notice anything in particular, your ass slams into a hard surface and you jump up, letting him settle between your legs again and kiss you even harder than he did all night.

You’re the target now, and good god, you’re loving it. His lips alter between being gentle and harsh, kissing you with so much passion before biting, as if he wants to show you that he’s the one in charge. And you let him. By god, you let him.

He takes your shirt and bra off quickly, not wanting to drag it out like you did, but the moment you’re half naked before his eyes, he slows down. If him staring you down made you feel nervous before, you are positively burning right now because he is eating you up. He doesn’t even have to touch you – just the sight of him, looking like he’s about to ruin you is enough to cause goosebumps to form all over your body. He comes closer, attaching his lips to your chest. You are losing your mind because he is purposely slow, kissing you all over before finally attaching his lips to your nipple, taking it into his mouth and slowly rolling his tongue against it. You swear you can feel him smiling, but you’re too far gone to check – especially not when his hand reaches for your other breast, squeezing it shamelessly. You’ve been able to control your noises for a little while, but the moment his teeth come out to play, you’re a goner. With his fingers and lips moving at the same time, you can only moan, reaching towards something, anything to hold and settling for his hair. You grip it, perhaps a bit too harshly if his moan is anything to go by – but he doesn’t stop you. In fact, he simply sucks harder, making you arch your back towards him.

He’ll ruin you. He will absolutely ruin you and you are perfectly fine with it.

After what feels like an eternity, he detaches his mouth away from you and your eyes meet. He truly is a sight for sore eyes, especially now when he looks so blissfully fucked out. His hair is a mess, his lips red from all the kissing and sucking, his torso a work of art. He looks so fucking hot, you moan. At the very sight of him, you moan. He’s not touching you, he’s not teasing you, he’s not doing anything but looking at you and that is enough to make you moan, moan and rut your hips in his direction, looking for friction which you find in the form of his thigh. He lets you, he lets you move against him. Your moment of pleasure doesn’t last long, because he steps back, fumbling to unbutton your jeans. You lay down, ignoring the cold of the table against your naked back, lifting your hips to help him undress you completely. Unlike the slow, sensual moves that you used on him, he is quick, taking them off as fast as he possibly can. When you’re left in nothing but your underwear, that is when he slows down again, crouching down out of your sight.

“Fuck!” you gasp in surprise when you feel him nuzzling his nose against your clothed center – you can feel how wet you are and you know, you know he can smell it, feel it, see it and you absolutely do not care. In fact, you’re even more turned on by the thought of it – he clearly is enjoying it and you want nothing more than to let him know how good he’s making you feel.

He doesn’t torture you for too long and other than a muffled curse, he doesn’t comment on how wet you are for him. Instead, he goes right down to business, using his fingers to move your underwear to the side and he immediately attaches himself to your clit, sucking on it harshly, with the same fervor as when he was sucking on your nipples.  

“Fuck, Jimin!” you moan out, gripping his hair with all the strength you have, knowing that that must have hurt – again, he shows no signs of having a problem with it. Fuck, he probably even likes it.

“What is it baby?” he asks, not waiting for your response and instead choosing to lick up your center. “Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you manage to reply, momentarily distracted by the feel of his finger sinking into you.

“If you let me, I’ll eat you out for hours tomorrow morning,” he tells you, pausing to bite on your thigh, a bite that you know will leave teeth marks, but you don’t protest. “As much as I’d be willing to do it for hours right now, I really need you on my cock.”

“Yeah, okay,” you laugh, biting your lip at the feel of him sinking another finger into you, slowly dragging them in and out as he stands up, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. You say nothing more – you couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You move your hips in time with his fingers, riding them like you would, and hopefully will, ride his dick in a matter of moments.

“Bedroom?” he suggests as he stops his assault on you. You nod, somehow managing to sit up, nearly laughing at the sight of him. Half naked, with his jeans still hanging right above his knees, his member standing up proudly. How he could wobble you towards the table in that state is beyond you. You don’t have a chance to ask, too distracted with the sight of him licking his fingers, all while looking directly into your eyes. He’ll be the death of you, that’s for sure.

You stand up, leaning against the table as he loses the last articles of his clothing – you barely have the time to take a few deep breaths before he starts kissing you again, his tongue overpowering yours as you moan at the taste of him. You don’t bother opening your eyes, letting him lead you towards the bedroom, trusting him that you won’t end up overboard, hoping that if you do, you wouldn’t be too turned on to notice. You hit a wall and a door on your way there, giggling by the time he is pushing you onto a bed, finally letting you breathe. Standing above you, he somehow manages to look both menacing and hot at the same time. His eyes tell you to wait, which you gladly do, watching him as you settle yourself on top of the covers. You choke on your own breath when you notice his ass, for the first time without the barrier of skintight jeans – it’s a sight, alright. You watch as he fumbles through his suitcase, smiling at him when he turns around, waving a condom at you.

No matter how much you’re into him, there’s no way he’s fucking you without protection. You’re glad he’s on the same page, not even stopping to suggest going bare. While you’d like that and you’re guessing so would he, it’s simply not happening. He walks towards you, not putting the condom on immediately, instead choosing to give his member a few strokes, enjoying the view of you on his bed, naked and waiting. Though your lip bite was an unconscious reaction at the sight before you, he is affected, grunting at the sight – the moment the condom is covering his dick, he is rushing to get on top of you, finally letting you feel his whole body against your own.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he tells you before kissing you passionately, flicking his tongue slowly as he settles between your legs. He doesn’t enter you immediately, instead choosing to grind onto you, making the both of you moan into the kiss. You’re the one who pulls away, if only for a moment.

“Please,” you moan out, enjoying the feel of his dick rubbing against you, pushing you closer to the edge – too close, considering you didn’t even have a chance to feel him inside of you. “Please just fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he gives you a quick kiss before finally sliding into you. Slowly and with ease, he fills you up in a way that makes you moan – louder than you did the whole night, feeling absolutely shameless. You don’t care, you don’t care where you are or who can hear you, if anyone – he feels that damn good.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you gasp, taken by surprise with him slowly rolling his hips into you. It’s as if he can tell you need no more time to adjust to him, he starts moving a bit faster with each roll of his hips, making you curse out as you grab onto him, your fingers digging into his skin. It seems he enjoys you being rough with him, showing him how good he’s making you feel because he isn’t complaining and you know it has to hurt. He wastes no time, dipping down to take your nipple into his mouth, never stopping his dick from moving in and out of you in the best of ways.

“God,you’re so tight baby!” he grunts as his thrusts become harder and faster, so much so that you faintly notice the sound of the bed thumping into something, most likely the wall. You don’t care, you really don’t – you pull him closer to you, blindly reaching for his lips, enjoying the way he overpowers your senses, even smell - he smells like sex and expensive cologne, the most mouthwatering scent you’ve ever had the pleasure of smelling. The moment your lips touch, you feel his hand graze your clit, eliciting a particularly loud moan for you. Unable to focus on anything, you give into pleasure and let him do whatever he wants with you, the onslaught on your senses killing the little sanity you had left.

You dare and think it can’t get any better than this and right as you do, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, pinching your clit between his fingers at the same time. You weren’t ready – you weren’t ready for it at all and with his actions catching you by surprise, you lose the little control you’ve had, coming hard. The orgasm washes over you stronger than any orgasm in your recent memory, making you gasp and moan, holding onto him with all the strength your body has left. He is losing his cool too – his hands give in and he’s pressed up against you completely, lips grazing your ear. “Just like that, come all over my cock,” he urges you through your high, his words making it even harder for you to calm down.

Body shivering, you somehow calm down your breathing – it’s a challenge, seeing as he still hasn’t stopped moving completely. He slowed down enough not to send you in complete overdrive too soon. Even his consideration is a turn on – almost as strong of a turn on as him using your body to pleasure himself, still rolling his hips into you and moaning softly, directly into your ear, the moan turning more high pitched when he feels your nails running up and down his back.

Turning your head towards him, you search for his lips. He kisses you eagerly, stilling himself inside of you for a moment, as if he wants to focus on the kiss and kiss alone. Slowly, he moves away from you and leans back, running his hand up your thigh. He raises his eyebrows as he pushes your leg up, asking you for permission. You nod, moaning as he moves your leg towards the side. Quickly, you turn to your side completely and judging by the moan he lets out, that’s exactly what he needed you to do.

You want to do more, you do. You want to ride him till you can no longer move but he is so damn overwhelming, all you can do right now is just… take it. And you’re not complaining. Slowly but surely, the pleasure builds up again and you realize there’s a strong chance you’ll come again. Suddenly brave again, you look at him, directly at him, as you put a hand between your legs and start rubbing yourself. The moment he realizes what you’re doing, he looks down, lifting your leg up so that he can have a better view. “Fuck,” is all he says, followed by the sexiest groan you have ever heard a man make.

“I’m so close,” you warn him, wanting to feel all of it again but somehow not wanting it to end.

“Come on baby, come for me again,” he urges you on. As much as you want to, you really don’t want it to be over anytime soon - the buildup was so damn hot and you simply don’t want to stop. Thinking about his earlier promise about eating you out for hours is what pushes you over the edge. Feeling Jimin and think of the dirty words he whispered in your ear is enough for you to come again, your entire body shivering with pure pleasure. Looking up at him, you notice the way his face scrunches, the way his voice is deeper and his moans never stopping… he takes over you again.

“I’m going to come,” he warns you, making you remember that he can’t come inside of you and fill you up, which is something you would really, really like. You settle for the next best thing.

“Come on me,” you tell him, moving your leg out of his still firm grip, and spreading your legs as much as possible, now having a perfect view of him slamming into you, much faster than he did before. “Come anywhere you want,” you urge him, biting your lip as his hips lose rhythm at your suggestion. In the speed of light, he slips out of you, leaving you empty and wanting more, more of him, more of his dick, more of anything he’d be willing to give you. You watch as he takes the condom off in the speed of light, still rubbing yourself and ignoring the overstimulation you are feeling, absolutely urged by the hottest sight you have seen in your entire life: Jimin, stroking himself with a firm grip, moaning loudly as he closes his eyes, his face scrunched in pleasure.

You watch in awe as he finishes all over you, the streaks of his cum reaching all the way up to your breasts. You have never, never in your entire life, experienced anything hotter than this. You know now, there is nothing hotter than watching Jimin orgasm. And you have never in your miserable life had sex nearly as good as the one you had now.

Jimin’s body gives up and he falls directly on top of you, making you chuckle. Your hands roam his back, as if you are comforting him through the aftermath, completely ignoring the fact that his now softening member is still rubbing against you. Both of you are sweaty, your bodies covered in his cum but you don’t care and neither does he. Once he is finally able to move, he simply leans a bit to the side, just so that he can look at you. And he does. With the brightest, sweetest smile that shouldn’t belong to a man who fucked you as hard as he just did.

“Hi,” you speak up first, shocked at how rough your voice sounds. Perhaps you were a bit louder than you thought you were. He smiles and you feel yourself melting again, accepting that you are whipped for him, way more whipped than you should be for someone you barely know. He doesn’t make it any easier on you when he leans in for a kiss, his lips slow and lazy and yours following suit, ignoring the butterflies that are going berserk in your stomach again. You ignore it all, shutting your brain off and enjoying the post sex glow that he is radiating with.

He pulls away but not before caressing your face and pushing hair behind your ear – a very sweet action for someone whose mouth can do all those dirty, lovely things.

“That was… wow,” he admits and for the first time since you’ve met him, you think you see a blush on his face – a blush that isn’t caused by alcohol, that is. Is he suddenly shy? Is it the post sex blush? You don’t know and you don’t care, as long as you can keep looking at him.

“Wow seems appropriate,” you agree, joining in his laughter. He is still chuckling as he nuzzles into your neck, giving you a few quick pecks before pulling away.

“Do you want to stay the night?” he raises his eyebrows, giving you a way out if you don’t want to take him up on his earlier offer. “I could call you a cab or even walk you back to your place. I’d like you to stay the night though.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can use my legs at the moment.”

It wasn’t supposed to be such a funny remark but for some reason, he laughs hard and after fighting it for a few seconds, you can’t help but join in. If you look past his hotness and the ease with which he communicates with people, he really does have a comfortable aura around him – if he laughs, it’s contagious and you don’t mind joining in.

The two of you calm down and after a few moments of silence, he runs his hand through your hair again, pushing it away from your face as his eyes focus on different parts of it – first your eyes, then your lips, then your cheeks. It looks as if he is trying to memorize you and to that you can relate because this is one night you’d never want to forget, not one part of it. And not one part of him. “Let’s go and get cleaned up?” he suggests.

You’ve lost count of how many times you have let him take you by the hand and lead the way for the both of you. You are yet to regret those decisions, gladly letting him lead the way now, knowing that wherever he takes you… it’s going to be good.

You wake up feeling content, well rested and sore, all at once. With a dumb smile on your face, you giggle and bury your face in the pillow – it smells of him, making your memories of the night before even more vivid.

His promise of devoting hours to you and your body this morning did not wait until dawn. It all occurred the night before, with you still kissing one another by the time sun had started to rise and the birds had started chirping.

It all comes back to you in flashes, the bath you took together, the way he caressed your skin as he was washing you up, before his hands went a bit further south. Both the sweet words and the dirty talk are engraved in your mind forever, just like the way he made you feel all of last night.

You knew it before, you’re sure of it now – he has ruined you. He has absolutely ruined you, in the best way possible. And you don’t want it to end.

You knew it had an expiration date. This is a trip romance – short, sweet, steamy and memorable. It had an expiration date the moment the two of you shared the first smiles in front of ‘Shakespeare and company’. While the thought of it does leave a bitter taste in your mouth, you’re a big girl and you can live with it. Smiling, you decide to enjoy the morning, or early afternoon, with Jimin. You’ll deal with the negative side effects later.

“Afternoon, beautiful,” you hear him, turning around towards the direction his voice is coming from – he is leaning against the doorway, smiling at you, looking too hot for his own good with gray sweatpants, a white shirt and a part of his dark hair pulled back in a makeshift bun. “Did you sleep well?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he smiles as you close your eyes and shamelessly yawn, remembering a second too late that you should put a hand over your mouth. You open your eyes just in time to see him sitting down on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your naked thigh and slowly moving it up and down your skin. It’s not as sexual as his touches were last night – in fact, this feels more comforting than anything else. “How long was I out? Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I slept like a log. And it’s 2PM now, so you’ve had a few hours.”

“2PM?” you’re shocked to realized you’ve already lost half the day. It was very much worth it, though.

“You have somewhere to be?” he teases you, probably unaware how he makes the butterflies in your stomach go nuts. You have a sneaky suspicion that he’s not aware of your dilemma – do you go, do you stay? Does he want you to go or does he want you to stay? What are you even supposed to say now?

“No, not really,” you shrug, cowardly throwing the ball into his court. You’ll admit it, you’re a whimp and you are more than happy to let him decide if you should be on your way or stick around a bit longer.

“Well, I’ve made us some quick lunch. I wanted to order something but wasn’t sure if you’d want to stick around for food… so I figured I’ll make something and eat both portions if you bolt,” he admits through laughter and you’re immediately relieved – you weren’t the only one uncertain about everything.

“I don’t have to bolt. And I’m also kind of starving,” you admit, shuddering when you remember that the last thing you ate was a croissant almost a full day ago – you’re absolutely starving.

“We can eat on the deck if you want?” he suggest, before breaking out into a sudden smile.

“What?” you ask, confused with how he’s looking at you. You either have something on your face or he’s going to make this whole thing 20 times more difficult and you’re afraid the second situation is more likely.

“Nothing. You’re just beautiful like that,” he shrugs as you let him run his hands through your hair.

“Half-dead and messy looking? I’m sure I am,” you roll your eyes.

“Not messy. Sexy,” he corrects you, the same way he did last night. With a sigh, he pulls away and stands up. “I’m starving too, so you’d better hurry up if you don’t want me eating you up instead.”

“I don’t think I’d mind that, to be honest,” you admit, hiding your face in his pillow, knowing that you no longer have the dark to hide the blush that appears whenever you say something a bit more straightforward.

You expected him to say something or maybe laugh – you absolutely didn’t expect to feel his teeth on your right ass cheek. You jump up in surprise, nearly hitting him in the head when your leg jerks, but that only makes him laugh. You’re smiling way too wide for someone who’s just been bitten on the ass and you decide to scream into the pillow once he’s away enough not to hear it.

“Your clothes and underwear are dry and clean but feel free to steal that shirt from me,” he winks at you. “I’ll wait on the deck.”

With that, he leaves you alone to get dressed, try to gather your thoughts and maybe, just maybe, control your emotions a little bit. It would have been a lot easier if he was the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kind of guy but surprise, he’s not! No, he fucked you like a full-fledged sex god, giving you the best night of your life, while caring enough to throw your clothes into the washer and drier and even wanting to feed you the next day. Nope, still no flaws in sight for Park Jimin.

You wash up quickly, slapping yourself a few times for good measure, hoping to calm yourself down enough to be able to turn around and leave very soon. You still don’t know if it had worked but your bag is packed and you join him on the deck, dressed in your jeans and the shirt he wore yesterday that he generously let you sleep in and steal for good.

He doesn’t notice you immediately, leaned back in the chair with his eyes closed. The sight of him sitting like that, with his dark hair pulled back and tied, his neck in full view and all but glowing in the sunlight makes you want to cry. The man is actually so goddamn pretty it almost brings tears to your eyes. It doesn’t help when he notices you and smiles at you, pointing at the two bowls set on the table.

“I know it’s just noodles but honestly, I’m too pretty to know how to cook,” he explains as you take a seat. You burst out laughing at his comment.

“Cocky yet very true,” you nod in appreciation. “Don’t worry, I love ramen.”

“It’s lame but I at least I’ve added poached eggs,” he tells you, looking oh so proud about adding an extra ingredient.

“Nothing beats instant ramen,” you reassure him. “It smells of youth, not having enough money and artificial flavoring. I’ve never felt more at home,” this time around, it’s he who laughs, wishing you a good meal as the both of you dig into the food. You weren’t lying when you said it’s more than okay – you just need some food in the belly and it’s not like you’ve expected him to greet you with a full course meal. It’s the thought that counts and it’s more than enough. Actually, it might even be too much.

Halfway through your lunch, the silence between you turns slightly uncomfortable. It isn’t anything that either one of you did – it’s just the entire situation. The clock is ticking, the both of you know it and neither one of you is quite sure how to act about it. You can’t stay here for another day, even if you wanted to – your stuff and a huge chunk of your money is back at your airbnb. Even with that little detail aside, you’re not even sure if you want to say – not to mention, if he wants you to stay or not.

But it feels… wrong. It feels wrong to leave just like that, pretending like he hadn’t given you an amazing night. Not only was the sex mind-blowingly good… even before that, he was a perfect travel partner yesterday. He’s good company and knowing you’ll be saying goodbye to all of that… it doesn’t sit well with you.

Despite avoiding eye contact for a few minutes now, you fail and the moment your eyes meet from across the table, you know you’ve reached that page of the little novella the two of you wrote. He knows it too, setting away his chopsticks, sighing as he leans back into the chair. You say nothing, watching him as he stares you down, slowly shaking his head.

“I don’t want this to end,” he admits. You stay silent, following his suit as you put away your own chopsticks and lean back into the chair, completely shutting down the rest of the world – you no longer hear the birds or passing boats. You don’t see the tourists walking along the river, you don’t even feel the subtle waves that gently sway the boat you’re on – you can only focus on him, on his face, on the way he looks bothered by this. “It feels wrong to end this but at the same time, doesn’t it feel like the only proper way to go about it? Am I making any sense?” he asks, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah,” you nod immediately, assuring him that you do understand it. “It feels good, it feels right, like it would be a shame to walk away from but… what else can be done?”

“Exactly,” he agrees, leaning towards you. “It feels equally right and wrong. What are we going to do?”

You can go back to get your stuff and spend the rest of the trip here with him. You can exchange numbers and meet up back home. It could lead to something beautiful, a continuation of a marvelous chapter one, just as easily as it can lead to a complete disaster. Life’s unpredictable and you don’t know if it’s worth it to possibly ruin this amazing… encounter.

How can you even find an answer to that? Not like this whole thing hasn’t been…

“You believe in destiny, don’t you?” you ask him, suddenly putting two and two together, smiling at the confused nod he gives you. “We met here so many times. Different days, different times, we somehow ended up together. Who’s to say that won’t happen again?” you ask.

“What are you suggesting here? To… see if we meet again?”

“Exactly,” you nod, feeling proud of the solution you’ve come up with. “You believe in destiny and I don’t. If we meet again, I’d be willing to question that belief. We go our separate ways. If it ends up being a onetime encounter, we’ll remember it with smiles on our faces. And if we meet…”

“I don’t let you walk away again,” he smirks at you. You don’t say anything as that smirk turns into a genuine, real smile. He means it, he actually means it. And if you meet him again… you will too. “What happens if we run into each other back home?” he asks.

You remember how you talked last night, realizing that the two of you were hanging around the same places before, perhaps even at the same time. It made you wonder how many times you have passed one another, without a second glance, thinking of other things, of other people. Running into him back home seems more likely than seeing him again here in Paris.

“Then we say hello and see where that takes us,” you answer adamantly.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

He offers you his hand from across the table and you shake it firmly, suddenly a lot more hopeful than you were moments ago. No, you don’t believe in destiny but if there’s someone that could make you question that, it’s Park Jimin himself.

“Fucking hell,” you curse under your breath as you wrestle your way through the crowd – for the first time since you’ve arrived in Paris, you were stuck in the metro during rush hour and you have never felt so many backpacks smacking your face in such a short amount of time.

Trying to get Google Maps on, you make your way up the stairs and into fresh air, taking a deep breath when you do. If your phone is correct and based on your previous experiences, it’s probably not, you’re a five minute walk away from the Luxembourg Gardens.  A perfect way to end your last full day in Paris – outside and hopefully away from any kind of crowd.

You walk in the direction your navigation deems right, checking every few seconds if it had started spinning out of control like it did yesterday – there is nothing more stressful than your GPS telling you to turn right and once you do, immediately telling you to take a sharp left.

It’s the smell that makes you take a detour – it’s always the smell. Sure, you could continue to sheepishly follow your navigation but when the smell of freshly baked pastry smacks you in the face, you know where you’re heading. The bakery is fairly empty and you test your poor French as you order a plain croissant.

Damn him and his plain croissants. Something that should be so simple and so irrelevant now irks you, almost to the point of you changing your order to a chocolate one. You don’t, already knowing that you’re nowhere near proficient enough in French to explain your change of heart.

The lady behind the counter is a bit of a bitch, not waiting for you to put your wallet away before she hands you your meal, giving you a dirty look when it takes you a second too long to take it from her. Offering her a sour, kiss-my-ass smile, you take the pastry and head towards the door, now trying to juggle your food, phone, wallet and the door handle, all at once.

You’ve just managed to close the door behind you and turn around, nearly avoiding a collision.

“Jesus Christ!” you gasp, gripping your phone and the pastry harder, stopping them from flying out of your hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!”

Your heart stops at the sound of his voice. You slowly look up, scared of both confirming and denying your suspicions, unsure which one would hurt more – him being here or him being a product of your imagination. You know that voice and you know it well.

It’s him, looking panicked and checking if you have a hold on your things. “I’m sorry, I…” he goes mute once his eyes meet yours and he realizes it’s you.

Jimin stares at you, not saying anything. One second before the encounter turns uncomfortable, you watch in amazement as he grins at you, a grin so wide and genuine your heart skips a beat.

“I… I could have dropped my croissant.”

He huffs a small laugh at your horribly timed Vine reference, pursing his lips as he tries to hide his smile – why, you don’t know and don’t care to find out because he can’t do it. He can’t hide his smile and it’s evident that he’s happy to see you. So are you, thanking and cursing at destiny at the same time.

Taking your empty hand in his, he says nothing as he intertwines your fingers and starts walking, slowly leading you away with him. You follow him, desperately thinking of what to say, of what to do but somehow too panicked to actually do anything. It feels like one of you should do something and apparently, he thinks the same because he suddenly stops and turns your way.

He puts his hands on your face, pulling you in for a kiss. The moment your lips are pressed against his, you remember how much you’ve wanted to do this since the last time you’ve kissed him, before walking down the steps of his boathouse. The relief that fills you as he deepens the kiss makes you a reluctant but firm believer in destiny.

No words are needed, you know that now. So when he leans away and smiles at you, you smile back, reaching for his hand again. He leads the way and again you follow, knowing you’re definitely not going to regret it this time either. THE END

[enviedear]

secrets that you keep → peter parker

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in a consolation trip back to europe, the kids of midtown high are eager to have a normal vacation, finally. but you on the other hand are on a mission. something weird is going on with peter parker, and you’re going to figure it out.

PAIRING ⌙ peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.4k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“-smaller group than before, but we’ll still have fun guys. the tour company has made precautions for you kids. there will not be a repeat of last year.” mr. harrington babbles.

you sink lower into the bus seat. you did not want to be back in europe. truthfully you want to be anywhere but here. wherever, here, was. no one knew. cell service went out about five miles back and the bus driver didn’t speak english. 

“yeah guys, don’t worry. this trip is going to be ten times worse than the last. it’s already started bad since we don't know where we ARE!” flash yells, running a hand down his face.

mr. harrington tries to calm him and the rest of the bus down, to no avail.

you block out the commotion and stare out of the bus window. grass, farm, cattle, shack, more grass, more farm. and not one single cell tower in sight. this is it, you think, this is how it ends, stranded in a foreign country with the most annoying people you’ve ever known.

“guys, GUYS! my service is back,” betty yelps. “it says we’re in wiveliscombe, and that it’s going to be three hours until we reach london.”

her words are met with groans.

“at least we have cell service now.” jokes peter parker, who’s sat in the seat across the aisle from you. he’s cute and nice, but weird. last year’s trip he had about a thousand excuses as to why he’d leave the group and if it happened this year, you were gonna figure out why. no matter what it took.

“mhm, and since we have access to the endless possibilities of the internet again, we don’t have to talk..” you huff.

“i.. sorry. i didn’t-” you cut him off by placing your earbuds back into your ears and turning the volume up. 

something about peter irked your nerves in a way you couldn’t understand. maybe it was the way he knew fucking everything. maybe it was the way his body became incomprehensibly fit in such a short period of time. you really couldn’t understand that. even went as far as to do research on steroids, but found there was no way he could be using those. most probably it was the nonsense of his idiotic excuses. he might be able to fool everyone else, but not you. you knew there had to be something going on.

he and his stupid cute little brown curls, button nose, and six pack were under your firm watch.

by the time the bus reached the hotel the sun was beginning to set. jet lagged and in need of a long shower, you’re one of the first to fly into the hotel.

“It's me and you for the next week.” mj smiles, holding out a room key for you. truthfully, you really liked mj. she was cool and liked a lot of the same things as you. but she had one fatal flaw in your eyes, she used to date peter parker.

it was a short lived relationship, almost everyone saw it as a fling. peter and mj were just… too different. but they remain close friends.

it’s not like you were jealous... just, a tad bit jealous. besides, that ship had sailed and your goal wasn’t to end up like mj on the last trip to europe. no, you had other plans.

“cool. we can watch murder mysteries tonight and grab some snack from the convenience store down the street.” you grin.

the rooming situation for everyone else took entirely too long. it started with flash being upset that his room requirements weren’t being met. he wanted nothing to do with a roommate. this, caused his previous roommate, zander, to object to rooming with someone so, ‘coddled’.

took a full twenty minutes to resolve the issue. 

“mj, you still wanna visit the national gallery tomorrow?” asks the one and only peter parker.

“uh, yeah. y/n, wanna join?” she questions.

you were ready to object, finding it far more intriguing to stay in and sleep but then you remembered your little mission. if you wanted to figure out what peter parker’s deal was, you’d have to be around him. 

“sure. nothing better to do.” you shrug, peering straight into peter’s eyes. 

“i, uh- i thought we’d get an early start to the day. ned wants to go on the jack the ripper tour, so that gives us until one to look through the museum.” peter rambles.

“alright, me and y/n will meet you two down here around ten thirty.” mj clarifies.

“see you then. night mj,” he looks to you. “goodnight y/n.”

you narrow your eyes at him, “sleep tight parker. busy day tomorrow.”

with that you and mj enter your room, ready to sleep off the jet lag. and soon enough, sleep carries you into her open arms, preparing you for the day ahead.

the next morning consists of peter and ned rushing in and out of their room. the duo forgetting nearly everything they needed for the day. it was extremely annoying. but you’d take watching the two ninnies scramble about over this tour you’re forcing yourself to get through right now.

the national gallery was proving to be a bore. maybe it was you. or maybe it was the dull ass tour guide. either way, you’re finding it hard to focus on any of these artworks around you.

“this is the arnolfini portrait. it’s the work of jan van eyck and it is believed to depict an italian merchant named giovanni di nicolao arnolfini. this painting has remained in the national gallery since 1843.” the tour guide drones.

you peer up at the art, searching for anything to interest you about it. you try to focus of the dark green of the woman’s dress, then the small dog, but nothing about this art is appealing to you. instead, you find the whispered conversation going on behind you to be much more intriguing.

“ned how am i going to make it all the way to japan and back here before the ripper tour?” peter grumbles.

japan?

“i don’t know, but i really don’t want to go on a tour of the most infamous and creepy serial killers of all time without my best friend.” ned whispers.

“but mj will be there, and.. y/n.” peter assures.

“great. they both creep me out. that’s like, two extra loads of creepy added onto the already creepy tour.” ned huffs.

“dude, i have to go… mr. stark is waiting on me.” peter pleads.

you hear ned give an annoyed, “fine.”

you wait a few seconds before turning around to face peter’s friend.

“where did peter run off to?” you ask, as innocently as you can.

“uhhhh- the bathroom. the uh, hotel bathroom. yeah, must have been those tomatoes he ate with his breakfast today.” ned gulps.

“mhm. well i think i’ll meet up with him. he shouldn’t walk all the way back alone.” you smirk, shoving past ned and running the direction peter went.

it took a good minute to find him outside, the boy running into a bakery. but once your eyes find him, you rush straight in, right behind him. eyes narrowed and full of questions. 

the brown haired boy quickly enters a bathroom and you grin. 

no escaping now, parker.

you wait outside the bathroom eagerly. only for minutes to pass. no sound escapes the room and you furrow your brows.

you knock on the door, no answer. annoyed you open the door, only to be met with an empty bathroom. 

an empty bathroom with an opened window.

what the fuck?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“we’ve been upgraded!” mr. harrington gleams, looking down at our tired faces.

“last time we were upgraded we almost died.” betty sighs.

“ah- what did i say, we’re not going to repeat last year,” harrington retorts. “now...how do you guys feel about paris?”

well those words certainly livened up the breakfast table. train tickets are soon passed around, and you study yours, spoonful of yogurt still in your mouth.

“hey y/n, mj and i are gonna go to the louvre when we get there,” ned grins. “wanna come with?”

you chuckle, “another museum? nah, i’m good.”

mj quirks a brow at you, “this museum is home to the mona lisa. it’s not just any museum.”

“and the mona lisa is not just any painting… it’s an ugly one.” you huff.

ned guffaws at you.

“honestly, i might skip out too.” peter says.

you turn to face him, “great. you and i can explore paris while mj and ned explore another museum.”

he shifts in his seat, “i dunno i was thinking of-”

mj cuts him off, “i think that’s a great idea y/n. don’t you, peter? you remember what harrington said.. no repeat of last year.”

her eyes are cold as she awaits his answer and he fidgets more in his seat.

“i just think it might be best for me to stay here… ya know in case mr. stark needs anything.”

you roll your eyes, “dude, you’re just an intern. what could he possibly need that his other ten thousand interns can’t do.”

“technically he only has like six other… interns.” peter mumbles.

“but uh.. they can handle whatever mr. stark needs from you. i mean they’ve been av- uh, interns, for a while.” ned says, eyes pleading with his friend.

peter sighs before smiling at you, “alright, me and you versus paris.”

no peter parker, me and myself versus your dirty little secret.

somehow you got to sit next to peter in an empty train car for the ride to paris. and holy shit.. could he talk.

his eyes did have a way of lighting a fire inside you as he talked but, that, was not the point.

it was between an empty car with peter or full car sat between flash and harrington.

peter is always better than the latter.

“-anyways, how’d you convince your parents to let you go back to europe?” he asks.

“i didn’t. they made me.” you say simply.

peter slumps into his seat a little, “uh, why?”

“because when they were younger they traveled the world. i dunno, i guess they expect me to want to as well.” 

“oh. well, are you enjoying it so far.” he asks.

i’d enjoy it more if i could figure out your damned secret, parker.

“sure.”

and then, finally, peter is quiet. 

but not for long, as the train comes to a screeching halt.

over the train speakers comes a booming voice, “veuillez rester calme. le train s'est arrêté en raison d'un dysfonctionnement du moteur.”

your body tenses and you look at peter, “please tell me you understand french?”

“a little.. i dont think we need to worry. they said it’s just an engine malfunction.” he nods, looking around the train car.

you try to breathe. 

everything is okay. there’s no evil robots coming to destroy a train car with two innocent teenagers. that’s so pre civil war. just breathe. 

suddenly a loud bang is heard from the car behind you. not just any bang… a gunshot.

“holy shit.” you whisper, stiff as a board.

peter on the other hand is rummaging through his bag.

“parker! what the fuck are you doing?” you hiss.

“i.. just trust me okay? when i tell you to run… run.”

you look at him with a scowl, “i’m not going to be the sacrificial pig for slaughter, asswipe.”

he rolls his eyes, “i’m going to run with you. we’re going to find an empty car and then… wait for spiderman.” 

you blink. the kid’s gone insane.

“peter. listen, i know coping with your own inevitable death can be hard but, spiderman.. really?” you groan.

another loud bang comes from the car behind you. 

peter looks at you, taking your hand in his. 

the door to your car bursts open.

“run!” peter yelps, rushing into the next car, the gunmen not far enough behind.

“holy shit i’m gonna die.” you scream.

peter throws something at the gunmen when the two of you enter the next car, separating the two of you from the monsters.

but the kid didn’t throw just anything at them. motherfucker threw a damn door. a metal train door.

by the time you process the information, peter is pulling you into a cramped bathroom.

“i don’t have much time but basically, hi, i’m spiderman. those guys back there are people tony stark pissed off really bad and i need you to hide in here until i fix this issue.”

with that he pulls his jacket off revealing the spiderman suit you’re so used to seeing on the news.

“that’s your secret? this entire time i’ve been hanging around you trying to figure it out, and it turns out you’re spiderman. i would have thought anything before fucking spiderman.” you dwell, eyes wide.

he slips his mask on, “wait, you only hung out with me because you thought i had a secret? i mean.. i did but-”

another loud bang interrupts him, “nevermind. we’ll talk about this later. stay here and don’t tell anyone what i just told you.”

you nod, and watch him exit the bathroom.

so much for “not a repeat of last time.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“at least it wasn’t witches this time.” mr. dell sighs.

your entire fourth period groans. 

“what! our world is infested with witches now. i don’t even know why i’m teaching science. i’m gonna turn around one day and suddenly i’ll be teaching witchcraft.”

your eyes return back to your desk, staring a hole into the old wood. your trance is broken by a crumpled piece of paper. you roll your eyes and turn your attention to peter, who after europe has been watching you like a hawk.

you open the paper to see, ‘listen, mr. stark said i need to get written evidence that you won’t spill the beans. please sign below.’

you grimace but sign at the bottom of the paper and hand it back to your new ninny friend.

that’s right. friend. despite being one of the most annoying people on the planet, with the weirdest secret ever.. peter was nice. he was really nice. he liked almost everything you did and listened intently to whatever you had to say.

“earth to y/n.” his voice calls from beside you.

“oh? is class over?” you ask.

he nods and holds his arm out to you. you take it and give him a half smile.

you may find peter parker to be the weirdest dude ever, but you can’t deny that the secret superhero is starting to flood your mind. you never thought you’d be the one to say it, but peter parker is the coolest weirdo you’ve ever met.

and besides, your mission was a success. you figured out his secret and obtained a friend along with it.

well, friend, until you could complete your newest mission.

telling him you like him. like, a lot.

[starrynite7114]

A preview for a new story <3

Good morning everyone! I was hoping to have an update ready for today, but I currently though. However, I do have a preview for a new story I’m writing. 

Let me know what you all think! If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave a comment below! 

Alena groaned as she heard her phone rang for the umpteenth time. 

It was a Saturday.

She was allowed to sleep in.

Her eyes opened wide then when the day sunk in. Picking up her cell phone, she sat up and saw multiple missed calls from Angel, EZ and Felipe.

She clicked on Angel’s name, cursing under her breath. 

“Where the fuck are you?” Angel growled out.

“I’m so sorry Angel,” Alena groaned as she laid back on her bed. “I had a late night at work and I missed my alarm earlier.” She looked at the clock beside her bed and it read ‘10:35am’.

He sighed. “It’s fine, I was just worried. You didn’t even text me querida.” 

“I,” she bit her lip, internally groaning for forgetting to do such a simple task. “I thought I did. Sorry my-“

Angel cut her off. “Your co-workers took advantage of your kindness yet again and you did their work while they went out to party.” 

Alena hated how well Angel knew her. But she nodded her head meekly as if Angel could see her. 

“Cruz is looking for mama.” 

She smiled thinking of her son. Well, technically, Cruz wasn’t her son. Cruz was Angel’s son with his ex-girlfriend, Valeria. The woman didn’t want Cruz so she put him up for adoption without even telling Angel. She told him that she would rather he be in the system than have a father like him. That she wanted no reminder of him in her life. When Angel went to the orphanage to retrieve his child, they gave him a difficult time due to his criminal background along with his history with the Mayans. They told him he didn’t have enough stability to care for a child. 

Typical systemic bullshit. 

Alena had a good job, or well, a respectable job that people would see as stable. Being Angel’s friend, she offered to pose as his fiancé so that Angel could get his son. It was a fight, but eventually they were able to bring Cruz home and Alena has been taking care of Cruz with Angel ever since. On his birth certificate, it was Alena’s name that was on there along with Angel’s.

One may wonder why would Alena even adopt a child that wasn’t hers? 

Many people, including her family, have called her insane and too kind to help Angel out the way she has been doing for the last few years. They were never together and were only friends, yet, they were co-parenting.

But Angel saved her all those years ago when she was merely sixteen years old. Things would have been different if Angel wasn’t there.

Alena moved to Santo Padre with her mother when she was eleven years old. She lived in the apartment building down the street Angel’s home. She was EZ’s age, so she ended up being in the same class as him. For lack of a better term, she was EZ’s rival when it came to academics. She hardly participated in any clubs, sports or any activities, but when it came to academics, she definitely rivaled EZ. Angel always teased EZ that not even his spooky gift could beat Alena. Due to living in the same neighborhood, they always seemed to walk home together and she eventually befriended EZ then Angel. 

They weren’t her best friends, but she definitely considered them good friends. Her best friend, Carla, was EZ’s current girlfriend. Carla moved to Santo Padre at the age of fifteen and became a part of the triplet with EZ and Alena. Once EZ was out of jail, their feelings became more apparent especially since Carla stuck by EZ. Though, they couldn’t lay blame in Emily since EZ did push her away. 

She adopted Cruz four years ago and now, she was his mother and she wouldn’t do a thing to change it. Her and Angel co-parented well. Their schedule never veered from the usual, but she usually was in San Diego during the week and from time to time Cruz came with her. Mostly, he was in Santo Padre since Felipe could watch him when Angel was working. Angel insisted that she didn’t have to take care of Cruz, her helping him get his child was enough, but she grew fond of the child. 

She would do anything for Angel and now she would do anything for Cruz. They might not be blood, but he was her son.

“Shit, okay, let me just change into some sweats and I’ll head over.” Alena maneuvered out of bed. The guilt seeping in that she didn’t come home last night as she intended to do so. Well, she didn’t go over to Angel’s.

“Don’t bother,” her room door opened and the giggle that flooded the air made her smile.

“Mama!” Cruz greeted her, jumping on her bed. 

“Baby!” She opened her arms as Cruz jumped into them. Looking up at Angel, he leaned against the door frame and smiled at her. “I’m really sorry.” She pouted. 

Angel groaned. “Please don’t do that, you know that pout makes me powerless.” Alena laughed at his words. “I know, it’s fine, I know how you are.” Angel sighed walking over to sit at the edge of her bed. “Really wish you wouldn’t let them walk all over you.” 

“It’s not a big deal, I was staying late anyway and they didn’t anticipate it to be busy yesterday.” Alena’s eyes were focused on Cruz who was cuddled into her arms.

“That’s not the point Lenny.” Angel hated how kind she was, it was the reason she was stuck in California in the first place. She was going to Europe, Paris specifically, to become a curator for the Louvre, an opportunity that came once in a lifetime, but she stayed in Santo Padre, and was doing scut work. It upset Angel, but she wouldn’t leave, because if she did, Angel wouldn’t be able to have Cruz and she didn’t want that. It was Angel’s chance to be a father, to have a family.

“How was last night?” Alena knew how difficult it was for Cruz to sleep when he knew she was coming home.

“Awful.” Alena noticed the dark bags under Angel’s eyes. “He wouldn’t stop calling for you. And I tried calling you but your phone was off.”

“Sorry, I forgot to charge it and I just,” she kissed the top of Cruz’s head as she felt his breathing even out indicating he was asleep. “I’m really sorry Angel.”

“Stop apologizing, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Angel moved so he was sitting right beside her. “I’m going to have to either buy you another phone or those power banks.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You have to start saying no querida, you’re not getting paid enough to handle everyone’s load.”

“I just want to help.” Alena laid down with Cruz in her arms. 

Angel followed suit, resting his hand behind his head. Even though they didn’t start off tangled in one another, eventually when he woke up, he knew Alena would be wrapped around him with Cruz in between them. They had a weird dynamic, Angel could recognize that, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

“Baby, just say no next time. It was their work to do, not yours.” Angel turned and wrapped an arm around Alena and Cruz. “We’ll just take a nap then we can head over to Pops, family dinner.”

“Isn’t family dinner usually tomorrow?” 

“Two nights of family dinner, didn’t want to argue with the old man.” 

Alena laughed. “Okay, we got to stop by the pharmacy, Cruz needs a refill on his inhaler.”

“I already got it.” Angel closed his eyes. “Go to sleep, I know you’re tired, sleep in for once.”

Alena closed her eyes, kissing Cruz on the forehead one last time before her world went dark. 

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Sinners & Saints-Chapter 9

         A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapters on AO3

Chapter Nine (NSFW)

Claire and Maia packed all the personal belongings until late into the night. Claire and Jamie would leave with the helicopter in the morning and Darius would take the boat to the island of Mykonos where it would be stored in dry dock, under cover.

“Thank you for helping me, Maia. I think we’re done and if we forgot something I’ll buy it new. Get some sleep dear one, tomorrow starts early.”

Claire pulled on a black silk suit with a short skirt, tailored jacket, and starched white shirt. Black heels and the blonde wig transformed her into the billionaire’s wife, and she walked with purpose onto the forward deck with the kitten tucked under her arm. The men swiveled their gaze, stuck on the long legs coming toward them.

“Good morning gentlemen, this my engineer…” Claire froze mid-sentence realizing they had not talked about Jamie’s name for introductions. Jamie smiled and extended his hand introducing himself as Gregory Patton.

“Ah, yes, Gregory.” They piled into the chopper and watched Darius wave from the deck before running to pull anchor and make way for Mykonos.

Jamie watched the pilot openly flirt with Claire and shoved his hands under his legs to keep from balling his fists. Thomas was giddy with the almost three-hundred thousand he made in two hours of work, so he was oblivious to everything. When the yacht came into view Jamie was enchanted. It was all white and huge compared to the other boat with three decks in the back, and two in the front. He forced himself to look out the window at the ocean to hide his wonder.

Claire and Jamie walked into the saloon as the chopper was already in the air. They were met by the owner’s wife who looked very distressed. Claire smiled and held her hand out asking if everything was alright.

“Yes, Misses Dunn but I’m afraid Adso is very unhappy today and unwell. He forgets so much these days and he doesn’t want to lose his beloved boat. It’s time for us to go ashore and be looked after by our children. Please understand if my husband is short with you.”

“I promise, and I understand. Who would want to part with this?”

They found the owner on the upper deck sitting in shade looking like he lost his family, his dog, and his best friend. Claire felt tears press against her eyeballs and took a deep breath. At that moment she shed her impersonation and became Claire, the compassionate, loving, woman Jamie fell in love with.

“Mister Rosen! How nice to see you again. This is Gregory, my engineer. I understand the money has been transferred and you have papers for me to sign.”

He didn’t look up at her or acknowledge Jamie. Claire sat down next to him as his wife explained she had purchased the boat and they would soon have to leave.

“Before you do, I was hoping you could give me the history of the boat and what it can do. Like, what are the upgrades and why did you choose them, what is the farthest you have taken it?”

When he didn’t respond she asked, “what did you love most about this boat?”

He seemed to grunt and liven up a bit, looking at her and the kitten.

“What’s that?”

“This is my kitten. It will live here on the boat with me.”

“What’s its name?”

“Adso.”

“Adso? That’s my name.”

“Well, that is fitting, isn’t it? Now then, what kind of adventures can I have on this magnificent boat?”

That seemed to break the older man out of his shell. He reached out to stroke the kitten and smiled as he launched into his stories of the exciting places they had been on the yacht. Claire’s probing questions kept him talking and Jamie watched him look younger with each sentence. Claire talked to him like they were old friends, took her jacket off and put her feet up. Jamie was ready to burst with pride in her and her compassion for the old man.

After two hours of laughing and storytelling, the wife told Adso it was time to go. The man looked at Claire with such excitement and said he was glad she would live here from now on.

“One more thing, sir. Whenever you want to spend a day exploring please do it with me.”

It was a great way to put closure on a difficult transition. He would always be welcome. Adso’s wife hugged Claire hard, knowing she just spent two hours out of the kindness of her heart and she loved her for it. She took her husband’s arm and walked across the saloon where their trusted captain waited to tender them ashore.

“You know, I think the engineer is sweet on our Mary, ha!”

Claire watched the tender pull away from the boat with a tear in her eye. Strong arms encircled her waist and Jamie’s silky voice spoke his pride, devotion, and love into her ear.

“Are you ready to see your new home handsome?”

“Lead on love.”

They started below deck in the engine room and laundry, came up one flight to the guest cabins and crew area with a separate kitchen and living area, up another flight to the main saloon and forward deck with a shaded area and table for dining and a sun area with lounge chairs, they went up a flight to a second saloon with full media support for movies and television with a second forward deck. Up another flight to the bridge with the captain’s quarters and the sun deck. Jaime was confused because they reached the top deck, but he hadn’t seen the master bedroom. Claire led him down to the main saloon showing the dining area, the galley, and straight ahead was the entrance to the master suite that blew Jamie’s mind. The level of luxury was astounding and beautiful. There was a separate deck for this bedroom that gave them privacy from the world. Large windows in the bedroom and bathroom, and a sixty-inch flat-screen that rolled out on command.

“Well, how do you like your new boat sweetheart.”

Jamie stood and caressed her cheek, holding her to him. “This is Mary Dunn’s boat and I will think of you every day for the rest of my life, on this amazing yacht. It’s my gift Claire, a trinket compared to how much I love you.”

Claire wiped her tears and gave a brave face, “I have something to celebrate our new home, I hope the Rosen’s left some glasses.”

The galley had a full service for eight; glasses, dishes, flat wear, stem wear and serving bowls. Claire pulled two glasses and opened the one bag she brought on the helicopter. She set the bottle of fine whisky and two glasses on a tray and went to Jamie on the forward deck. They toasted their new home and kissed, another glass and another kiss, the third glass made them lose themselves in a kiss that was life-sustaining for them both and they stopped thinking of life alone.

“Jamie, I remember you have a birthday this month, is that right? It was in the Louvre when we spent the afternoon talking and admiring the art. I believe the date is the twenty-first?”

“What a memory mo chridhe. The only thing I remember from that day is your skirt being pulled up by the wind, and how much I wanted to kiss you.”

She pulled his arms around her and looked at his half-smile. “Am I right?”

“Aye, you’re a clever lass.”

“I want to make your birthday memorable, what is your pleasure?”

“Marry me, Claire Beauchamp.”

She had not heard her real name in quite some time and to have it linked with a proposal made her eyes sting with tears. Jamie hugged her and asked if that was a yes and then chuckled at her tearful response that it was. He hugged her to him and felt humbled that she would pledge herself to him with such an unknown future.

“I’m not going back, Claire. I figured I couldn’t outrun them with face recognition in all the airports, banks, even department stores. Fingerprint evidence left behind everywhere I went, they would catch me eventually so I didn’t see any possibility of running. All that changed when you bought this boat, Sassenach. We just stay on the water and keep moving.” He touched her cheek, “it’s not perfect, but I will be so damn grateful for every day I have with you.”

Jamie kissed both of her wet cheeks and then a long kiss to her mouth, full of promises and love.

The sound of a boat horn pulled them apart and they looked for the boat that was pulling up to the aft deck to offload all their belongings. Darius boarded the yacht and worked the hydraulics for lowering the back platform where they all pulled bag after bag out of the arriving boat. Darius thanked the man who shuttled them back from Mykonos and Jamie handed the man a one hundred dollar bill which made him very happy.

The platform was raised back to its resting position and Claire looked at an exhausted captain and first mate. It was quite an undertaking to prepare a yacht for dry dock. A checklist that required several hours to complete and then pulling their belongings to the transport boat that would take them back.

“As the owner of this craft, I order you two to your quarters until dinner. Take whatever you need to get out of those uniforms and disappear.”

Darius looked at all the bags to be brought in and Claire exerted her position over the tired captain.

“That is an order captain, be gone with the both of you.” She smiled at Maia and felt bad she handled so much alone, the poor girl was about to collapse. “Wait! You are both required on the front deck for five minutes please.”

Claire poured four glasses of whisky, thanked them from the bottom of her heart, and they threw them back. “Now you can go.” She couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out when she was commanding but noticed the other couple did not argue. They were too tired.

The day was overwhelming for everyone. Claire had tempted Jamie’s sexual appetite too many times throughout the day, with marriage proposals, touring the boat, an intimate introduction to their bedroom. By dinner time he felt like a live wire and could not relax. Claire surprised everyone with a lovely chowder of leftover lobster, snapper, potatoes, cabbage, onions, and spices. She served the other three at the table and set warm rolls on the table as well as a large salad. It was delicious and she seemed so happy to do it, even Maia was happy to be served.

The frumpled couple retired to their rooms straight away and Claire cleared the table and started cleaning up. Jamie held her wrists to prevent her from grabbing another plate to rinse and turned her around kissing her soundly.

“Let me finish so you can get ready for bed. I want to sleep for twelve hours with you in my arms, but we have other business to attend to first.” He pulled her hand to his concrete erection and she gasped, smiling slyly.

Jamie made short work of the remaining dishes and slammed the dishwasher closed. His long arms reached every last crumb on the table and counters and leftovers were stowed in the vast refrigerator. He locked up, turned lights off, set the alarm, and grabbed the whisky and glasses on his way to the master cabin. When he stepped under the rainbird shower-head he decided it was the most exquisite shower he had ever felt. Entering the bedroom he noticed the covers turned down, but he was missing one fiancé. He looked beyond the huge sliding glass door and saw his love reclined on a double lounge. She was naked and he stepped into a beautiful night with his love ready to ease his pain.

“On your back, soldier.”

She stretched her long legs on either side of him and brought her warm mouth down on him tenderly, slowly, feeling him fill her to her throat. He moaned and gripped the lounge to keep his hands from forcing her down on him. Jamie’s head was spinning in her erotic ministrations and groaned when she straddled him, sliding her body down on him with a moan. He watched her in the moonlight, so beautiful, so lost in her arousal. He knew she had changed in the time they were together but had not the brain space to figure it out right then.

Claire was swept away with carnal love and she watched Jamie’s face feeling more and more out of control.

“Come for me lass,” was the last thing she heard before the winds of erotic release made her deaf and her body left the earth in the pulsing delight that rolled through her.

Jamie held himself back until he watched her face in orgasmic release and he groaned pulling her hips down on him until he was spent. He carried her to the enormous bed, laying her on soft cool sheets, a gift from the owner. When he turned off the lights, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, and it took a while to find his future wife. He held her close and thanked God for such a spectacular woman, come what may.

The tall man covered ground faster than the average human due to his extraordinary stride. Usually an advantage he appreciated unless he was on his way to a dreaded appointment, like today. The Senator’s secretary didn’t move fast enough for Hesser, so he strode into Frank’s office and told him to hang up the phone.

“Nice of you to barge in this morning. What do you want?”

Hesser almost felt sorry for the ignorant punk in front of him who could no more win the gubernatorial race than fly to the moon. He needed Hesser behind him and Doctor Beauchamp at his side if he had a chance in hell.

“We are running out of time to bring your bride back Randall, let’s take a look at some possibilities of where she might be. We know she was in Chicago, Paris, Italy, where else might she have friendlies that would give her shelter? What languages does she speak?”

When Frank didn’t jump to answer the question, Hesser stood up and grabbed his collar yanking him to his feet.

“You better take this seriously Randall, without her you lose and your career is over. You are here because we want you here, it’s not your merit or sparkling history in politics you sanctimonious idiot. Let’s add worthless to that list.”

Hesser was disgusted leaving Frank’s office and dialed his cell phone as he left.

“I need fifty more agents assigned to the Beauchamp case. I will send you their destinations in an hour. Make the travel arrangements and copy the dossier for each of them.” He clicked off his cell and tried to remember which of the Greek islands they visited on their honeymoon. He couldn’t remember a single one and barely remembered his ex-wife's face now.

The moment Claire’s eyes opened in the morning her heart rate bounced into the happy zone and everything she saw made her want to jump up and down. After a delightful shower, she pulled on a bikini followed by shorts and a loose top. Her shipmates were in the galley preparing breakfast, decidedly concerned over the lack of food.

“We have the same amount of food, it just looks sparse because the frig is bigger. Okay, okay, we will buy food today.” She laughed at the sad faces and left them to open the doors to the wonderful sea breeze.

Over breakfast Claire asked how long it was safe to sit on this anchor, “is it okay to just stay here for now?”

“No.” Darius finished his coffee and pulled Maia into his lap. “I need you to weigh in on this Maia so stay for a couple of minutes before you start cleaning up. I think it’s logical Hesser will search the Greek islands next because it makes the most sense, Italy to Greece. I say we move on to Croatia as soon as the supplies are restored. One more thing, you should go ashore as a blonde, just in case.”

“I agree Sassenach, or stay onboard and let the rest of us go ashore.”

“I need some things so I have to go, but I’ll wear the wig. Let’s split up, each with our own list, we won’t be as noticeable that way and only buy what you can carry to the beach.”

They went their separate ways and Jamie caught up with Darius on the bridge. He requested some time, so they sat in the captain's chairs and faced each other.

“You’re a captain of a ship Darius. Can you marry us?”

Darius looked long and hard at Jamie. “You’re both running for your lives and you want to get married?”

Jamie looked at his hands folded in his lap. “I suppose you feel there's a lifetime to do the important things, but I don’t feel that way. I asked her and she said yes, so we want to do this as soon as possible. We will say our vows in front of the Almighty and that’s enough for me.”

“Jamie, I can marry you in international water but I cannot file the marriage in Greece, or anywhere in the world, it will lead them to you.”

“It’s enough to know we did it and if something happens to us you can file the marriage certificate post humus.”

“Okay, that’s enough of that!” Darius got up shaking his head and turned to Jamie before he left the bridge, “I’ll marry you. We head 200 miles out for the ceremony and then set course for Croatia.”

Jamie felt tingling in his head and wanted to shout it out the window of the bridge. Several deep breaths and a smile that made his cheeks hurt were good enough. He joined the others for making lists to shop.

Claire ushered Maia into her room and led her out to the deck where they sat knee to knee.

“Jamie asked me to marry him.” She almost fell over when Maia launched herself at Claire in a happy hug. “I hope we can marry on the boat, but I want it to be special. I need a dress and some kind of decoration. Will you stay in town with me and help me?”

Maia’s eyes brightened and she stammered something about forgetting her whole list and sending the men back to the boat to unload.

“If we start early enough, we should have at least a couple of hours to shop.”

“Perfect! You are my best friend Maia.”

Little Maia blushed at that compliment because she had put Claire on a pedestal from the first day. She was deeply touched.

Jamie and Darius spent the afternoon spearfishing while Claire and Maia created lists for everyone, laid in the sun, and then gawked at the enormous lobster and grouper brought back by the men.

Jamie was fascinated by the hydraulics lifting the tender out of the water and seemed to never run out of questions when Darius was around. The next day he had the tender on the water, tied to the back of the yacht when Darius walked onto the aft deck.

“For a guy new to the water you learn fast. I appreciate the help and think it’s time you became a proper first mate if you want to.”

“Yes, I do want to but it will hurt Maia’s feelings.”

“That little beauty has very deep feelings but they’re limited to love, compassion, support, and stubbornness if that’s a feeling. You watch, she will start teaching you too and your head will spin from too much information.”

Jamie locked the boat alarm into his phone app and they piled into the tender to shop in Santorini. Between the four of them, Jamie carried the lion’s share of groceries back to the tender an hour later. Like on cue, Maia pulled a folded paper from her pocket and complained about forgetting most of the items on her list. Darius looked at all the frozen food and said he would be back to get them.

“So we meet here in four hours?”

“Four hours?”

Darius shook his head in agreement and the girls watched the tender speed away before they ran to a garment shop.

Claire was getting upset because she couldn’t find anything suitable. Maia looked around trying to help her friend and saw something perfect for the occasion. She brought it to Claire who looked it over with a critical eye.

“You will shine in this color Claire, the fabric is beautiful.”

Claire looked Maia up and down and strode across the dress shop to pick the same garment out for Maia who was thrilled with the gift. Claire would wrap herself in a soft sarong in deep blues and gold. Maia’s sarong was graduated pinks and dark green leaves sprinkled throughout. The garments felt luxurious and the women were happy. Claire inspected the men’s shirts and pulled a gorgeous white collarless linen shirt out for Jamie.

“Be a good girl and give this to Jamie tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, shit, there’s something else I need. Is there a place around here to get artist paint?”

“Yes, and I will get the decorations and champagne while you do that.”

Maia was gone in a puff before Claire could say a word. She found a nightgown that looked and felt much like the one she wore in Paris and then made her way to the craft store. Claire struggled with so many bags that were getting heavier by the minute. Maia swooped in on her and took half of them giving a puzzled look at the contents.

“It’s Jamie’s birthday tomorrow. I want to give him something from his past and hope he will try to paint again. I need to hide this stuff in a bedroom downstairs, can you help me?”

Maia looked at her like she was kidding and pointed to the tender as their feet sunk into beach sand. Fortunately, Darius came alone saying Jamie was preparing dinner and making quite a mess. Claire collapsed into her seat, exhausted from her shopping marathon. Once back at the yacht, Maia grabbed the bags with art supplies and pointed to others for Darius to bring. When Jamie came out he grabbed Claire for a long hug. He held her to him as he pulled the tender out of the water with the wench and stowed it safely in the boat garage, returning the back platform to its upright position.

“You're rather good with all these buttons handsome. It’s kinda hot.”

“That fits nicely into my plan Sassenach.”

“Which is?”

“Something to do with lobster, whisky, a slave to my pleasure and you … oh! Sorry love, I’m burning the rolls.”

Jamie ran into the boat heading for the galley and Claire shook her head and laughed.

Spirits were upbeat through dinner. They had food for several weeks, a plan to get to Croatia, and a wedding tomorrow. They were all very happy to embark on the next adventure. Maia cleaned up after dinner and Claire went up to the sundeck that had full-size mattresses across the deck that she could lay on. She smiled up at the stars and couldn’t wait to feel the wind in her hair when they were racing to Croatia.

“I’ve been looking high and low for you love. May I join you?”

“Actually, I think you will be very comfortable here Jamie. There are blankets under the bar if you get cold. I love you so much. See you tomorrow to take our vows.”

“But Sassenach, wait, what about a slave to my pleasure and ….”

“That I will surely be, tomorrow. It’s bad luck to be together before the ceremony sweetheart. I’ll miss you tonight.”

Jamie found himself alone on the upper deck, but the stars were brilliant diamonds sparkling in the black sky and he never tired of that grand view. He laid on his back and looked at them for exactly three and a half minutes then he fell asleep.

Claire arranged the canvases, paint, brushes, and other supplies in one of the bedrooms below deck. She prayed she was not overstepping but could not resist trying. He was a brilliant artist so how could he ignore such a big part of himself? She locked the door and went to her room. She was exhausted.

Darius went to sleep right after dinner. He would get up in a few hours and turn the boat toward the open ocean. It would take eight hours to reach international water and he hoped to be there before everyone woke up for the day.

Maia paced the lower saloon, checking her cell phone every other minute. She had slipped away from Claire when they were shopping to find the flower shop run by her brother’s best friend. He was happy to see her and helped her pick out three buckets of fresh flowers and garland. She gave him every penny she had, a gift to her friends. He was supposed to be here to drop them off and she started getting nervous. Another ten minutes and she got a text that he was at the aft deck. He kissed her cheek and waved, soon swallowed up by the black night. Maia stowed the flowers in the second refrigerator and sighed in relief before locking up and setting the alarm.

Jamie felt cool air on his face and opened his eyes. He could swear the boat was moving, and fast. It took a minute to remember why he was on the sundeck alone and by then he was sure they were moving. He walked downstairs to the bridge and almost scared the skin off of Darius.

“Jesus, Jamie, I didn’t expect anyone to be walking up on me. This baby is quiet, like a purring kitten. God, I love this boat!”

“Uh, where are we going?”

“You want to get married tomorrow, I mean later today, so we’re heading for international water, be there in four hours. I need something to munch on.”

Darius headed for the stairs to the galley and Jamie swiveled his head from the bridge to the retreating Darius.

“Don’t you need to drive the boat?”

Darius had a mouth full of food and shook his head trying to say autopilot. Jamie looked worried about going this fast with no one at the helm. Darius slapped him on the back, “if you’re not going back to sleep let me show you around the bridge. Why were you sleeping on the sundeck?”

“Claire says it’s bad luck to be together before the wedding.”

Darius laughed so hard he almost fell out of the captain's chair, “that’s rich, it’s what I love about women, they never make any sense when it comes to love.”

They could see the first rays of sunrise by six in the morning and it was the most beautiful sight Jamie had ever seen. He watched the colors change in the sky and on the water, purple, indigo, scarlet, orange, and a lite blue on the horizon. They were surrounded by water without a hint of anything else as far as the eye could see.

“Did you hear that?”

There was a crash below and both men stiffened and quietly crept down the stairs. Seeing a bucket of flowers come around the corner almost scared them half to death. Maia looked up at them on the stairs with a very strange expression and kept walking toward the forward deck. They got back to the bridge in time to answer the ringing phone.

"How long until we’re there?”

“Maybe an hour, why?”

“Drop it to five knots, the wind is blowing my flowers apart.”

Darius pulled the throttle back, “God she’s bossy sometimes.”

Claire stretched in her magnificent bed and smiled at the smell of bacon and sausage. When she realized this was the day she was getting married, she bolted upright in bed with a gasp. A minute later she was heading for the bathtub and panicked it was already nine o’clock in the morning. She opened the big glass door to the deck and looked around, she was pretty sure Santorini and all the moored boats were missing, in fact, she saw nothing but water on all sides and they were moving!

Maia brought a tray of food for her and explained that Darius left Santorini at one o’clock in the morning and they were now in international water.

“How does ten o’clock sound for your wedding?”

Claire swung her head from Maia to the bathtub to the sarong that hung on her closet door. Her face was pale and she nodded her head vigorously. Maia laughed and told her to relax and take her time.

Claire felt overwhelmed with bombarding emotions and wondered if Jamie was a basket-case too. He must be she decided. Meanwhile, Jamie and Darius crashed in the saloon watching a prerecorded game. Maia hung Jamie’s new shirt next to the couch he was sleeping on and decided to let them sleep for a while longer while she pressed Darius’s uniform.

At nine-fifty, Maia came down to the saloon with her new dress, makeup, and curly hair cascading down her back. He shook Jamie’s arm, and then Darius, and announced the wedding started in ten minutes. The two of them were blinking hard and shaking the sleep off as Maia handed Jamie the new shirt, clean jeans, and left giggling.

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp and James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser said the traditional vows on the main deck surrounded by their two close friends and sweet-smelling flowers. Neither had a certain future, both were being hunted, and they would never stop running, albeit in luxury. They seemed oblivious to their circumstances and kissed like they were all alone in the universe. Afterward, Maia brought out champagne and fluted glasses to toast the newlyweds.

At the same time, CIA agents were landing on every Greek island with an airport, while others flew into Athens and hired a boat to their assigned island. Five agents were pulled off Italy and sent to Greece for a total of fifty-five CIA agents looking for Claire and Jamie with eight by ten glossy photographs of face and body. They were told to follow and get their location but do not engage, that privilege was reserved for Hesser.

[lovely-van]

rainy sunday

word count: 1300

notes: just a little fluff i wrote because it’s been raining for like three days straight where i live and i was inspired by that. i’m going to try to work on some requests soon so keep an eye out for those :)

“Baby, wake up.” 

Van groaned loudly, mumbling something incoherent, and buried his head further into your neck. You laughed softly, rubbing up and down his bare back slowly, fingers dipping over his spine. “Vaaan,” you sang, “it’s already noon. We should get up.” 

The window in your bedroom was cracked and soft sounds of the rain pattering outside flowed in and spread throughout the room. Van mumbled something else but didn’t move. You brought your hands to his hair, dragging your fingers through the tangles and scratching his scalp. He sighed softly, clearly asleep still. 

It didn’t surprise you that he was still sleeping - the boy could sleep through an earthquake truthfully. He had a habit of staying up much later than the average person, usually strumming on his guitar in the living room or reading a book while you snoozed next to him in bed. You thought you were a night owl, never going to bed before midnight, until you met Van. Often, if you had an early shift, you’d wake to the sound of your alarm and roll over to see his sleepy eyes staring back at you, a tired smile on his lips. “Did you sleep?” you’d ask and he’d shake his head, setting down his notebook and pull you close to him for a moment, feeling your warmth until you had to get ready for the day. When he eventually did fall asleep, he’d be out like a log, not moving an inch until you woke him up, usually. 

You smoothed his hair back, pushing it off his forehead carefully and looked over his face, cheeks rosy from sleep, purple under eye circles evident on his porcelain skin, pink lips parted as he snored lightly. He was a work of art, a combination of sharp angles and soft curves covered by a landscape of colors. Freckles dusted across his nose like constellations in the sky on a clear night, the curl of his eyelashes shooting out onto his cheeks like a meteor. 

You brought a hand up to his face, dragging your thumb across his chapped bottom lip. “Baby,” you mumbled. “Love.”

Van hummed against your skin, shifting slightly. “What?” he mumbled, his voice muffled. 

“Wake uuup, please,” you whispered, scratching your nails down his back. Van groaned softly. He was such a pain to wake up in the mornings. 

“Have to?”

“It’s late, the day’s wasting away,” you said with a soft laugh, poking his cheek. 

“Fuck the day,” he mumbled. He leaned back a little, just enough so he could look at you with squinty eyes. “Wanna go back to bed.”

You chuckled, bringing your hand up to his face and stroking your thumb across his cheek. “But it’s late and we have stuff to do today.”

Van stretched dramatically, joints popping before rubbing his eyes. “Don’t wanna do stuff,” he muttered, resting his head in your shoulder. 

You moved your hand back to his hair, his eyes fluttering shut when you started scratching his scalp again. “Baby, you’re killing me.”

“Honestly though, think we should just stay in bed all day. It’s fuckin’ raining and shitty outside and I just wanna cuddle you. We can get our shit done tomorrow, yeah?” Van suggested, voice still scratchy as he opened his eyes again to look up at you through those long eyelashes. 

“You’re serious?” you asked softly with a little smile. He nodded, lips curling up to return your smile. 

“Mhm. Just you and me, here, all day.”

You nodded, unable to resist him of course. You leaned down and kissed him softly, all chapped lips and smiles. Van shifted, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you gently so you’d move to straddle him. He sighed into the kiss before pulling away, your foreheads pressed together. His hands lazily moved up and down your body, fingers tracing over every curve and dip. “You’re a bad influence,” you said with a small smile. 

He shook his head, crooked grin painting across his face. “Me? How?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “There were so many errands I wanted to do today and now I’m not gonna do anything.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tight to him, your head resting on his chest. You could feel every beat of his heart as he reached up and stroked your hair softly, smoothing it down and tucking a piece behind your ear. “I think this is better,” he mumbled. 

The rain was coming down even harder, thunder sure to start at any moment. Sure, you had a lot to do for the day - grocery shopping, bills, that kind of thing. But here was Van, begging you to stay cuddled up in bed with him all day? There was no way you could turn that one down. 

“I love you,” you mumbled, tilting your head up to look at him. He smiled lazily, eyes full of sleep still, and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. 

“And I love you,” Van said softly, eyes shining when he pulled away, hands running up and down your back. His hair was a mess, sticking up at every angle, his under eye bags probably getting larger every second, the lack of sleep over the past few months clearly catching up to him. But God, he looked like he belonged in The fucking Louvre. 

“Ooh, we can order takeout later,” you said after a moment, grinning at Van. 

“Mhm, great idea,” he replied softly, yawning and running one hand up and down your thigh and the other pushing your hair off your shoulder. “But who’s gonna make the tea?”

You groaned, flopping your head back down on his chest. He chuckled, scratching your back gently, making goosebumps rise up on your skin. “I’d do it but you’re on top of me, love,” he muttered in your ear. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it.” You pulled yourself away from Van, searching for his sweatshirt to throw on so you wouldn’t be walking through the freezing house naked. 

“You look quite beautiful this morning, y’know.” You glanced over at Van still on the bed after pulling the hoodie over your head. He was lying on his back, blankets pulled up to his chin, a tired smile on his lips. 

“So do you,” you replied honestly, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. You slipped out of the bedroom and hurried down the steps to the kitchen. You flipped the kettle on and pulled out both you and Van’s favorite mugs.

A crack of thunder sounded outside and you jumped slightly, nearly dropping the kettle as you poured the water. “Jesus.”

You sped through the house as quickly as you could, careful not to spill any tea as you climbed the stairs. 

When you pushed the door open with your hip, you looked up to see Van curled  up in bed, facing you. He reached his arms out and made small grabby hands at you. “C’mere,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the blankets. 

You set the mugs down, sliding in next to him as he lifted the blankets over you both. You wrapped your arms and legs around him tightly, burying your head into his chest, breathing him in. He held you close, one hand stroking your hair gently as he hummed. “Gone too long,” he whispered. 

You laughed into his chest softly. “Missed me, yeah? In those five minutes?” you asked in a muffled voice. 

Van reached down and kissed the top of your head. “I always miss you, love,” he replied. “Doesn’t matter if it’s only ten seconds. Always miss you because I fucking love you.”

The thunder continued outside and you figured you had a few missed phone calls and emails you could attend to, that there were things to be done before the wedding in a few months. But you didn’t care about any of that because it was Sunday and it was raining and all you cared about was Van. 

[babysackville]

Tuesday 26th October 1824

8 40/60

2 1/4

Ate grapes and at 9 1/3 sat down and wrote out the translation from the Italian made on Saturday then from 10 34/60 to 11 35/60 translated letter “18 ottobre” page.6 Jacopo Ortis – Then breakfasted – went and sat ¼ hour with Mlle de Sans who is better this morning and Mme Galvani came at 12 ¾ staid till 2 10/60 Shewed her translation and spent the rest of the time conversing – waited ½ hour (cutting open the leaves of my Italian dictionary) for Mrs Barlow for 3 to 5 walked with her in the Tuileries Gardens - She would make me have the Jounal des Debats to read – nothing particular in it but an account of the late Kings funeral yesterday – just skimmed it over.

Conversation in our usual style she believes I have had a great deal of  experience but acquits all my friends, thinks I respect them too much, why did I not so respect her. I pretended I respected her as much but liked or loved her better and thus explained all satisfactorily but whatever experience I had had she did not blame me more than other men. But even thought more allowance was to be made for me than for them she owned she was interested for me she should be ungrateful if she was not, but it was not all gratitude. No no she certainly liked me I said she kept me in better order than any one in the house and I am now all on the respectful. 

She said I astonished Madame Galvani at first who once or twice said to the Mackes she thought I was a man, and the Macks too had wondered, Mrs Barlow herself had thought at first I wishes to imitate the manners of a gentleman, but now she knew me better it was not put on  - Told her I had asked Madame Galvani to buy me a curious sort of book and she had got it for me but would not say what it was, it was in Latin – Asked Mrs Barlow if she thought I was capable of being in love, she thought yes, I said then I was so with her, she said would soon go off. She thought her being so much with me was the best way of luring me, ah said I you know better than that but she trusted me, thought me most honorable and that was the greatest obligation by which she would bind me to deserve her confidence – She wondered what Cordingley thought of me, oh merely said I, that I have my own particular ways, I happened to say my aunt often said I was the oddest person she ever knew. Mrs Barlow said but she knew all about it does she not, oh said I she and my friends and myself are all in a mist about it – 

Got home at 5 dressed Sat ¼ hour in the drawing room and sat down to dinner at 5 50/60 came upstairs at 6 50/60 – had my hair curled – Mrs Barlow came to me at 7 25/60 sat with me here till 8 1/2 and then in her own room till 9 when we went downstairs to join the party a regular soiree this evening, 4 ladies and several gents in addition to our home circle who began to come as soon we entered the room - After looking about me and talking to Miss Harvey and Mrs Heath, took my seat for the evening on the sopha next to Mrs Barlow agreeablized to her and those around me – gave letters to form words and made out those given to me – Mlle de Sans with us – came upstairs at 11 ¾ - 

Madame de Boyve looked very well very handsome tonight and did the house well, and the evening went off well – one [white and 1 scante table] [I] am to go to the Louvre tomorrow with Mrs Barlow. When with me this evening she made me tell her the the book was Johannes Secundus containing instructions how to spend a honeymoon and how to lie awake all night and agreeableize to ones friends. Kissed her several times said how well I would behave but said she, I will not sit up late with you at nights. On leaving my room I kissed her throat she looked grave and said she would not come again. I have before said I liked to see her dressed and put her shawl a little back she always drew it forward again, mere coquetry, she begins to blush a little now and then and look rather pathetic. I asked why she had said last night she could not be happy she said she was low she longed to have a home, reminded her she might marry when she liked, she said she might if she had not shut herself up so many years. She likes attention and had not much from the men tonight after waiting a while, she said nobody had given her a word of course I gave her one directly. She would not suit me I should tire of her but flirting with her amuses me now – 

Heavy rain last night and till about 12 this morning – fine from about 2 till after dinner – more rain later in the evening – Fahrenheit 64 at 1 10/60 after the hour had past finished writing all but the 1st 2 1/2 lines of today – E… – ½ hour eating grapes – 13/4 it is now raining fast – High wind all day -

(Diary reference: SH7MLE80064)

[seasonofthegeek]

Value Me

Today’s drabble was requested by the wonderful @128andfalling for Ladybug and Carapace.

"I’m here to relieve you, Spots,” Carapace announced with a mocking salute. “Coffee?” He held out a dented blue thermos and Ladybug reached for quickly.

“I think I actually fell asleep at one point. This has to be the most boring stake out ever,” she complained. “And for this being Chloe’s idea, she’s yet to show up for a shift.”

“Are you really that surprised?”

“No,” she pouted, taking a scone he produced from the soft lunch tote he’d attached to his shield for the trip over.

The Louvre was showcasing a very rare diamond from a traveling exhibit and the mayor had insisted the heroes of Paris keep constant watch over the item until it’s week-long time in the city was up. 

“I’ve been tempted to leave because we fight Hawkmoth and he only cares about these jewels.” She tapped a fingertip to her earring. “But I just have that funny little feeling that if I did leave it unguarded, something would happen.”

“So here we sit,” Carapace sighed. 

“Here we sit,” she agreed. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Well, I know how grumpy you get when you’re hungry.”

Ladybug stuck her tongue out. “Everyone gets grumpy when they’re hungry.”

“Yeah, but you get, like, comically grumpy until it turns and then you just get mean,” he teased.

“I do not!”

“Do too. Here, take a second scone just to be safe.”

“I’m going to stuff this scone somewhere very uncomfortable if you don’t cut it out,” she warned.

He grinned and pushed the scone toward her mouth. “See, mean.”

Ladybug primly bit into the scone and looked the other way. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon and it was that magic period where everything seemed a little soft, a little hazy. She yawned and realized just how tired she was from her all-night guard duty. 

Carapace bumped his shoulder against hers. “Why don’t you go get some sleep, Mari? I’m here until Nora can take the twins for Al.”

“You’re going to be so bored by yourself.” Ladybug yawned again and rested her head on his shoulder. “I can keep you company for a little bit, at least. You did bring me breakfast after all.”

He chuckled and enjoyed her warmth radiating against the left side of his body. “You don’t need to do that. I brought you breakfast because I wanted to, not to bribe you.”

“I like being with you though,” she murmured sleepily.

“Is that so?” When he received no answer, he relaxed a little beside her. “I like being with you too.”

After a few minutes, she wove her arm in between his arm and body and snuggled in closer with a happy sigh, her cheek pressed to his shoulder. After a few more seconds though, she was adjusting again with a little huff. “Can you put your arm around me?”

Carapace blinked in surprise but obeyed and then Ladybug was snuggling against his chest. “Much better,” she whispered as her eyes slid closed. 

She soon fell asleep and he sat as still as he possibly could even as his back, shoulders, and neck began to ache. He noticed pictures being taken of them in their perch right outside the Louvre and he really did think about waking Ladybug up but she kept making soft sounds every few minutes in her sleep and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was sweating under his suit by the time she finally stirred.

“I think I fell asleep.” Ladybug straightened with a groan and Carapace rotated his arm to try to get some feeling back into it. “Wow,” she blinked. “It’s bright now. How long was I out?”

He gave her a sheepish shrug. “An hour or so, maybe closer to two.”

“What?! Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you’re cute! What was I supposed to do?”

Deep pink ran out from beneath her mask as she stood and stretched. “I’m really sorry. That must’ve been super uncomfortable.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” He stood with her and twisted from side to side. “Besides, I’ll take hanging out with you any way I can get it, even if I do bore you to sleep.” He grinned at her but felt his smile falter at the expression on her face. “I was...it’s a joke, Spots.”

She shook her head. “No, but we should hang out more, just the two of us.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, we can do that.”

“Like tonight?”

“Tonight?”

She nodded, eyes hopeful. 

“Uh, yeah, I can do tonight.” Carapace pushed his hood back to scratch at his head. “I might be a little tired after doing this all day so maybe we could just watch a movie at your place or something?”

Ladybug frowned then. “Right. Of course you’ll be tired. How about tomorrow night?”

“Oh...okay. So no on the movie tonight then?”

“Well, we can, I guess, but tomorrow will be a date.” She straightened, rolling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. “Is that okay?”

“A date?” He swallowed hard. “A date with like you and me?”

Ladybug bit her lip but stood tall. “Yes.”

Carapace tapped the side of his goggles. “And you know this is Nino under here, right? This isn’t a case of mistaken identity or something?”

A smile tugged at her lips and she relaxed a little. “Yes, I know exactly who you are. Should I ask if you know who I am?”

“Like anyone could ever forget you, Mari,” he said softly.

The deep blush was back and she ducked her head shyly. “Okay, so yes, if you would like to, I really want to go on a date because you’re fun and cute and you just let me drool on you for two hours and I’ve been trying to work up the courage to do this for a while now.”

“It was only a little drool,” he promised. “And I’d absolutely love to go on a date with you, Spots.” 

Buy me a cherry coke?

[namjoonsteeth]

Back To You- Day 4

Title: Back To You (mini-series) Day 4 of 7

Word-Count: 4.8k

Summary: Jay has been Eden’s weakness for far too long. As much as she tells herself she’s over him, all it takes is one call for her to drop everything and fly to Rome for a week to help him out. He wants a second chance, she just wants to stop being so foolish when it comes to him. They both have 7 days in Italy to figure it out.

I’m blindfolded while Jay holds my hands leading me in the right direction. It would feel like one of my sex dreams except I keep tripping and I can hear him laughing quietly behind me. When he’d asked for a day, I expected exploring the city again, seeing all the touristy stuff in the daylight. Instead, he’d told me to dress comfortably, blindfolded me, and here we are with me holding on to him for dear life while I walk aimlessly.

“Step up,” he instructs in my ear. I do as I’m told, lifting a foot and searching for a step. I guess he grows tired of me missing it because his arms wrap around my waist tightly and lift me up over the ledge. 

“We get it, you’re strong,” I say rolling my eyes even though he can’t see them. “One day, that smart mouth is going to get you in trouble,” his lips brush my ear softly as he whispers. His arms stay around me while I lean into his chest. Intimacy. I feel it. It’s still too much. This feels ‘flingy’, temporary, like maybe at the end of the week we’ll be done. Maybe that’s what we need. A few days to get enough of each other so we can go our own way. 

I turn my head. I can tell I catch him off guard because he freezes around me. I smirk at him. “What are you going to do about it? One day could be today,”

“You’re different,” he says quietly. 

I shrug. 

I can’t explain it either. It’s like I’ve been trying so hard to keep him at arm's length that after yesterday, I’m finally really ready to let him in again. I’m learning that when it comes to Jay it’s all or nothing. I can either be totally mad at him and want nothing to do with him, or I can be 100% on his side. I can’t do lukewarm when it comes to him.  

“I said I’d try right?”

He stays silent. Instead of speaking his grips on my hands tighten as he leads me further. Wherever we are is freezing. He senses my discomfort, his hands sliding up and down my arms. 

“Almost there,”

He spins my body and pushes my shoulders gently for me to sit. My butt hits the chair with a thud and I feel him sit across from me. 

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

He doesn’t answer, instead, his hands gently pull at the fabric covering my eyes. It takes me a few seconds to adjust to the light and a few more to realize that we’re on a plane. 

When Jay told me to grab my passport last minute, I figured we’d be doing some traveling. Not get on a plane kind of traveling. I can’t imagine where we’d need to take a plane to in Italy. Maybe we’re going to some hillside where they make wine and step on grapes. Maybe we’re going to pick out cheese or something. Whatever it has him really excited because he hasn’t stopped smiling at me. 

“Where are we going?”

His smile widens at my question. His shoulders lift and drop adorably. “I dunno,”

“You don’t know?” I raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Nope,” he smiles. 

“I have a shoot tomorrow,”

“We’ll be back by tonight,”

I sigh. 

“Ok,”

“Ok?”

Nodding, I smile at him. “I trust you,”

I want to tell him that I don’t need all of this. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong. But I really don’t need him to go out of his way for me. All I really ask for is time. Time to get used to being around him again. Time to accept that I still really want him. But I don’t say anything because he’s clearly really excited for whatever he has planned. 

The plane ride takes a little more than an hour. We fill it with me trying to get our destination out of him. He doesn’t budge. He just looks at me with soft eyes. When I give up after about forty minutes, Jay switches seats so that he’s next to me. 

“I’m going to blindfold you again once we land,” he warns with a smirk. “I don’t think it’s necessary,”

He shrugs. “Probably not, but I like it when you hold on to me. It makes me feel like you trust me again,”

“I do trust you,”

“Do you?” He asks seriously. His hand squeezes mine gently. “Do you trust that I won’t ever do anything to hurt you again,”

“You can’t promise me that, Jay,”

“I can if it means losing you again,” he says softly. 

My heart thuds hard in my chest. I can’t help but hold on to him a little tighter. I want this so bad. I want him, in my corner, reminding me how much he wants me too. 

“Ok, I have to blindfold you again,” he pulls out a piece of fabric, the toothy smile from earlier back in place. 

I roll my eyes and stay still as he covers my eyes. 

“You also have to wear headphones,”

“Jay!”

“10 minutes max,” he says. “Listen to three songs and then I promise it’ll be worth it,”

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. Still, I wasn’t lying when I told him that I trusted him. That’s the issue. I trust him too much. He slips headphones over my ears and of course, it’s his voice that’s playing. His hands guide me up out of my seat and he helps me get off the plane without falling on my face. He pauses the music. 

“You have to get in the car so watch your step,”

The music plays again not giving me a chance to ask questions. His hand lays on my head helping me duck into the vehicle. He even stretches across my body to buckle me into the seat.

Even with my senses cut off, it’s too much of him around me. I’m covered in his smell, his touch, his skin brushing against mine. It’s making him thirty times more potent. 

We drive for what seems well over ten minutes before the car finally comes to a stop. I wait for Jay to take the headphones off before his hands go to the fabric that covers my eyes. 

“Before I take this off, I just want to say that we’re here one hundred percent because of you. This trip is all for you, Eden. Whatever you want to do just let me know. I have some stuff booked but if you want to do anything else-,”

“Jay, I’m impatient,”

“I know, baby,” he laughs before pulling the fabric off. It takes a few long seconds for my eyes to adjust to the light but when they do, they immediately fill with tears. 

“Shit, don’t cry, Eden,” Jay says pulling me into his side. 

“We’re in Paris,” I whisper looking at the iconic glass ceiling of the Louvre. 

“We’re in Paris,” he echoes looking down at me fondly. We both climb out the car. He lets me take in the fact that I’m actually in France. Its the one place I haven’t gone yet and it’s the one place I’ve been dying to get to. Everyone wants to go to Paris. In my company, all the jobs get snatched up so quickly I can barely blink before they’re off the sheet. 

Before I can control myself, I wrap my arms around Jay’s neck and press my lips against his cheek. He catches my body easily but is taken off guard by affection. 

“Are you happy?” He laughs. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jay? This is insane.”

I’m so excited that I’m bouncing on my toes and gripping his hand tightly. He follows behind me as I lead him toward the huge angular glass shape in front of the museum. 

I can’t believe he’s brought me all the way to France. I’m in Paris, damnit. My fingers slit through his, while I hold him tightly. I can’t think of one thing I ’ve ever wanted to do more than this. Of course, I could have saved and gotten here by myself, but ever since the promise he’d made me, it never felt right to go. 

“Thank you,” I tell him as we get in line. 

“I promised, didn’t I?”

I nod quietly trying to keep my excitement under control. The Louvre is everything I want it to be. There’s no other way to describe it. Walking through I’m so transfixed that I hardly mind that I’m not allowed to take photos in a large part of the museum. My camera hangs pretty much unused around my neck as I try to take in as much as possible. 

Jay moves with me quietly, asking questions but otherwise letting me see everything. At some point, he lets go if my hand and we walk with his chest presses against my back and arms wrapped around my shoulders. 

I wonder how we look. If anyone sees anything in the small things, like the way my hand comes up absentmindedly and smooths over his forearm or how he stays quiet when I linger in front of something particularly interesting and lets me marvel in peace.  

“The Mona Lisa is here,” I tell him. 

“Hmmm,” he hums. 

“So is the Venus de Milo, there’s also all kinds of paintings of like the Greek and Roman mythologies,”

He says nothing but makes that humming sound again. I turn my head so I can look up at him. “Are you bored?”

He shakes his head, smiling down at me. “You really like this stuff. I’m just happy that you finally get to see it,”

I can’t keep the goofy smile off my face. I feel dizzy like I’m drunk on art and Jay Park at the same time. Two years ago this would’ve been my dream come true, now I’m realizing that it still is a little bit. I can’t lie to myself. I can’t pretend that all this time that we’ve been separated, I wasn’t waiting for a miracle that forced us back together. That I wasn’t waiting for an excuse.  Because I was. I wanted all of it. I still do. Even more than before. There really are only two options for after this trip. Option one, somehow we make it work. Somehow despite how much time it’s been and how much tension I’ve held in my heart, we figure it out. Option two, none of this matters. None of the gentle touches, none of the sweet words, apologies from both of us, none of it will be enough to keep us going. 

“Eden, what’s wrong?”He pulls me out of my thoughts. His brows pull into a frown. 

“Nothing,” I tell him shaking my head. I surprise even myself when I press a quick kiss against his arm that’s across my shoulders. “Let’s keep going. I need to see everything,”

“Everything!” He teases with a wide smile while walking with me pressed tightly to his chest. 

I won’t think about the end of the week, at least not today. I’m here. I’m happy. Even happier that it’s with Jay. I’ll think grown-up responsible thoughts tomorrow. 

It takes us hours to get through. Bless his heart, Jay didn’t complain at all. He asked questions and listened while I or someone else explained about something we were looking at. 

When we make it out, he asks another couple if they could take a picture of us with the museum behind us and then we’re off. 

“What’s next?” I ask, excited for what he has planned.

“I’m going to feed you and then we’re going to the next thing,”

“I’m not hungry,” I pout, ready to see more of the city. 

Jay laughs and helps me into the car. He never lets my hand go and I never want him to. 

“You were five minutes away from complaining that you haven’t been fed. I can’t win with you,”

I laugh. 

“How long do we have?”

“Don’t stress about it, Eden. The whole day is yours to see Paris. We have time,”

We eat in a small cafe in the city. It’s so weird that I find myself marveling at all the things that I wouldn’t ordinarily find interest in. The tables are cute, the chairs, the little chocolate shop next to the cafe that Jay wordlessly takes me to after we eat. 

I smile up at him as he swings his arm over my shoulder, holding me tight against his side. 

“Get what you want,” he tells me. 

“I feel like you’ve been dying to tell a girl that all your life,” I tease him. 

He raises an eyebrow at me. “You want a limit on your chocolate spree?”

I leave him knowing he’ll follow. “I have my own money, you know? You don’t have to keep paying for everything,”

“Well how about when we’re both free, we can take another trip and it’ll be your treat,”

I know what he’s doing. Planning for the future to see where I’m at with all this. Truthfully, I wouldn’t be able to give him a clue one way or the other because I don’t know myself. 

“Do you think two pounds of chocolate covered strawberries would be doing too much?” I ask, changing the subject. 

“Do you want two pounds of strawberries?” He asks. 

“You know I’ll eat them? But is that like doing the most?”

His arm comes around my shoulder again laughing at my dilemma. “Do whatever you want, Eden. I’ll get you two pounds of the strawberries,” he says. “And whatever else you want,”

I don’t end up getting two pounds, only because I didn’t want to carry them around all day. I get one instead and refuse anymore else Jay tries to buy me. 

“What are we doing next?”

“Waiting for someone to pick us up,” he tells me. 

“An authentic Parisian experience, huh? Jaybeom you’re really going all out,”

“Have I ever told you how funny you are? Genuinely, you’re hilarious,”

We aren’t waiting long. The more time passes, the more I’m seeing just how well Jay planned everything. Our car picks us up near the cafe and shop and takes off without asking exactly where we’re headed. 

“Will we be back at the villa by tomorrow?” I ask him. 

His hand finds mine again. It’s so natural, easy like he’s been doing it for the last two years. I wonder if he ever feels the same hesitation when he touches me as I do. And I wonder if he feels it becoming easier and easier with each day that passes. I can never tell what he’s thinking. 

“We’ll be back by tonight. You have a shoot to do with hoody tomorrow, right?”

I nod a little disappointed that I can’t stay with him like this a little bit longer. Call me greedy, but I want more time pretending that things aren’t what they really are. I’m France, it’s me and Jay in love without much responsibility. I don’t want to go back to where other things can get in the way. 

The easiest solution, don’t let any of it get to us. It’s the only thing that makes sense really. Unfortunately, that’s not how it works. Even if by accident, my heart can’t suffer another blow; not from him. 

He squeezes my fingers, getting my attention again. “You’ll be tired, that’s ok, right? We can go back earlier, whenever you want,” he assures. 

I shake my head moving so that I’m in his space more. I’ve been feeling bolder today. The parts of me that just want things to be how they were so long ago, they’re aching to cling to him. I’m so close to giving in. So close to allowing myself to just forget about how I’ve felt for two years. It should matter that he hurt me. I should care about it all but...I don’t. 

The drive takes about twenty-five minutes through a bit of traffic. I’m so distracted by Jay that I’m not paying attention to anything else. I can’t take my eyes off of him. 

“I saw some of the final edits that you did,” he tells me. His thumb rubs against the back of my hand absentmindedly. 

“Yeah?”

“They were good,” he says while looking proud. “Really good. I didn’t forget how talented you are. But I forgot that it’s all so effortless for you,”

“It’s not effortless,” I tell him. 

“It seems like it. I miss looking at your stuff,” something in his eyes soften as he stares back at me. “I really just fucking miss you in general,”

“We’d miss each other even if we were together, Jay. We live on opposite sides of the world,”

He shakes his head. “It’s different. I couldn’t hear your voice when I wanted. I haven’t made you smile in years. I think about you every day, Eden. What you’re doing and if you’re thinking about me too,”

His fingers twist around mine as he catches my eyes. “Mostly, I thought about how I can get you back,”

I sigh looking out the window as we pass by tourist taking pictures and Parisians trying to live their life. 

“You told me you wanted to run away to Paris,” 

Jay continues to talk. I think he knows that I’m struggling to find something to say. As much as I rack my head and my heart, I can’t think of anything to give him. I don’t know how to be in the middle with him. So instead of giving him half the truth, I keep how much I still need him tampered down for now. Besides confessing that nothing’s changed that I still feel the way I felt back then, there’s nothing for me to say really. I also doubt he wants to hear anything other than that either. I’m doing us both a solid by keeping quiet. 

“I wanted you to see everything you wanted so badly, Eden. Even back then I was trying to figure out when I could work a trip to France into our tour schedule,”

“You didn’t have to do this Jay,” I tell him for what seems like the hundredth time. 

He ignores me and probably rolls his eyes too. His fingers squeeze mine again but he says nothing. I wonder what he’s thinking. If he has any plans to give up. If there’s a limit to how many times I can push him away. I’m starting to hope that he never listens; that he always tries to change my mind. 

There’s no hiding the Palace of Versailles.  He wouldn’t be able to surprise me any way he tried. There’s something about even the area that said that we were somewhere important. I knew before we even pulled in front of the palace itself. 

I feel my smile spread back in place. I’m so happy. I’m so fucking happy I could cry. I feel Jay’s eyes back on me and I can’t help but wrap my arm around his as we get out of the car. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” I whisper. 

“Come, we have to meet our tour guide in like five minutes. We’re running a little behind,”

He leads me across the vast property toward the entrance of the palace. I’m so excited I can barely take everything in let alone take a decent picture. Jay has to drag me away from the fountain, promising to stop by on our way out. 

His arm slings over my neck as we maneuver through the crowd of people waiting. I look up at Jay.

“Aren’t we going to get in line?”

He shakes his head and points to the stocky guy in the corner. “Private tour, baby,”

“I’m paying you back,” I tell him rolling my eyes. 

“You’re hilarious,” he stops walking, giving me all of his attention. “You want to pay me back, tell me you’re really fucking happy again and that’ll be enough,”

“Really? That’s all you want?”

He nods and we walk again toward our guide. 

“Jay and Eden, right?”

Jay nods pulling me close to his side. 

“Great! Let’s begin with a little history of the palace and architecture,”

Jay’s bored for a good portion of the tour. His alternates leaning against me, his chin pressed into my shoulder and pulling me so that my back rests against his chest. At some point, I reach over to intertwine my fingers with his just because. I like that I can. I like that I want to. 

We walk closer together than even at the museum; always touching, always in contact. We go through the palace with me asking questions and pointing out things that particularly sparks my interest. The tour guide lets me know we can take as much time as we want in any of the areas. There’s so much to see and take in because every bit of the palace is art. The floors, the ceilings, the lighting, it’s all so grand that I can’t even begin to put it all into words. It’s amazing. 

When the tour is over, hours have passed. I felt bad a while ago so I suggested we wrap it up but jay kept insisting on seeing more. By the time our car picks us up it’s just before five. I feel like we’ve been everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

I’m still so happy I feel like I could burst. This is the trip I’ve always wanted. And Jay made it happen. I’m sure eventually I would’ve gotten to see Paris but this is different. This is with Jay. 

When the car stops I know exactly where we are. We get out and Jay looks around, confused. I smile up at him already knowing what’s wrong. “Are we at the right place?” He frowns to himself cutely. “Pont des Arts Bridge, right? Where the locks are supposed to be,”

“They removed the locks years ago, Jay,” I can’t help but smile up at him. He looks so dejected staring at the clear glass where the metal used to be. 

Still, it’s a beautiful view. The expanse of water flowing below us while other tourists lean against the bridge to take pictures. It’s so pretty I can’t even begin to miss the locks. The atmosphere is still quite romantic, especially with Jay. 

“This is supposed to be the most romantic place in the world,” he pouts. “It is romantic,” I say looking around us. With my hand in his, I lean into him and squeeze his fingers in mine tightly. I watch as he digs into his pocket a pulls out a tiny metal lock and a sharpie.  

“What do I do with this then?”

I shrug letting his hand go so I can lean over the rail of the bridge. I don’t know how he did it but he managed to pick the nicest day of the week to come out. It’s not too hot or not too windy. It’s also not as crowded as a weekend would be. 

“Keep it,” I say. “We can find another place for it,”

Jay tucks the metal back in his pocket, still looking dejected and disappointed. Seeing how much work he’d put into this trip just for me, I’m grateful. Grateful and so so happy. 

I take a couple steps closer to him, smiling shyly when he looks at me. I pull at his arm so I could wrap my fingers around his. Immediately, his fingers slide around mine, gripping mine tightly. 

“I’m happy,” I tell him. “It was a really good day and I’m super happy,”

“Enough to let me kiss you?” He says jokingly. 

It takes us both off-guard when I lean in. 

I kiss him. 

I don’t really make the decision. Something in my body takes over as I move my lips toward his. 

I reach up wrapping my arms around his neck, drawing him close. His own arms circle my waist holding my body against him. 

His lips feel like I never forgot them. His tongue feels like crashing, falling, and flying all at once. I don’t remember the last time a kiss made me want to just take all my clothes off. 

That’s a lie. 

I remember him at my apartment door, drunk, and begging me to let him in. And when I finally do open the door to keep him from waking up my neighbors, his mouth touched mine so swiftly it felt like my whole world tilted. That kiss made me want to take my clothes off too. And we did, fucking against my door at three o’clock in the morning because it felt like we’d combust if we didn’t. Only two hours later I was throwing him and his cell phone that wouldn’t stop ringing out of my place. 

Even thinking about all that doesn’t stop me from pulling at the ends of his hair and trying to get close to him. He pulls away first, breathless, chest heaving against mine. 

“You kissed me,” he says smiling. 

“Did I?”

“I’m like 80% certain you did. Are you ok? Are you sick?,” he frowns. I reach up and use my thumb to smooth away his wrinkles. 

“I couldn’t help it,” I whisper. 

I feel shy. Like for some reason even though I know his mouth like my own, it’s all new. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me. Maybe it’s because we’re in fucking Paris. Maybe it’s because I can’t think of any other place in the world I want to be than with him and that seems... almost impossible. 

I lean up and kiss him again, because I can. His arms hold me tight against his chest. When I pull away, he follows me peppering the side of my lips with quick kisses. I laugh turning my head to move out of reach. 

“Well, that took less time than what I was expecting,” he jokes moving my hair out of my face. 

“You brought me to Paris just to kiss me?”

He shakes his head. “I brought you to Paris because it’s the one place in the world you wanted to go. And selfishly, I wanted to be the first one to bring you here,”

I believe him. 

That’s my first problem with Jay. I believe him too easily. I take what he says without question. It’s been like that since the beginning. All it took was one time for me to be wrong. 

When you’re willing to bet your life on the way someone feels about you, and then it all turns out to be wrong...it breaks you. It broke me. Letting him back in, so easily, so quickly because I what? I believe the look in his eyes? The words that come out of his mouth? 

I pull away from him suddenly embarrassed. His hands on my waist don’t let me get too far, though. His dark brows pull in as looks at me worried. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel kind of,” I shrug trying to think of what exactly to say. “Foolish,”

Jay blinks at me, his hands holding me tighter. 

“You feel foolish? For kissing me?”

I shake my head. “Not for kissing you. For being so easy,”

Jay scoffs, rolling his eyes at me. His hands drop from my body and he pushes them through his hair. 

“Easy? It’s been two damn years Eden. I’ve been in love with you, watching you date, and live your life, and be ok without me. None of this has been easy,”

I touch his arm softly pulling his attention back on me. “Don’t get mad. I’m just being honest with you,”

My lips twist as I think about how to get him to stop looking at me like I’m constantly breaking his heart. Smiling, I lean against him, pressing my chin to the center of his chest while I look up at him. 

He stares at me, his frown still not softening. I purse my lips in a pout. “Kiss me,”

His face softens and his eyes roll his arms come back up around my waist. He presses his lips against my pout. “I’m scared you’ll run from me when we get back,”

“I’m right here,” I reassure him. 

He’s quiet for a while. A hand reaches up and his thumb runs across my bottom lip. I wish I could know what he’s thinking, but right now I’m not even sure what I’m thinking. I’m in Paris with someone I’ve wanted to be in this spot with for a really long time. 

“Are you?” He asks finally. “Through tonight, through the rest of the trip, after the trip? Are you with me?”

I could tell him yes that I’m a hundred and ten percent down to try whatever it means to date Jay Park from halfway across the world. I could also tell him no, that I’m so scared to hit the ground that I can’t imagine walking on eggshells for the duration of our relationship. Instead I tell him the truth and hope that he gets it. 

“I’m scared that I like you too much to make a rational responsible decision. I also know that I like you too much to let you go again,”

Jay’s arms tighten around me, his cheek presses against the top of my head. We stand like this for a little longer watching as people pass us by. On this bridge that used to be filled with locks and people promising each other forever, I’m wondering how many of them are just like us; on the verge of maybes.

[noona-clock]

Journal Entries

So sorry! Hmm. Maybe a fluff scenario with Jongdae / Reader who go out and have fun at a new, fun place that neither of them have visited before (so sorry if this is too general? mostly wanting fluff hahahah) [maybe a trip abroad?]

@mabluan, I really had to ponder on where this would be and I hope that I wrote it well enough! I also tried a new style of writing, so I hope that’s okay! Either way, there’s definitely fluff here!! Enjoy, love! 

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Jongdae x You 

By Admin T 

Monday: 

We finally made it to Paris! The flight took forever and we’re super jetlagged but the Airbnb that we found is super cute and homey. Much better than staying at some overpriced hotel. We went straight to the Louvre and spent all day there. I’ve never seen Jongdae so quiet and so still and in awe! But what impressed me even more was that he’d explain the paintings he knew about to me. It was a different side of Jongdae- the artistic, somewhat quiet and inspired one. I loved it. I love him. 

Tuesday: 

We did so much today and I’m super tired, so here’s a list: 

Coffee + bread in Paris = AMAZING 

Musée d'Orsay is a wonderful museum but we almost got kicked out because Jongdae and I kept laughing at the naked art 

Jongdae makes a good head rest when you’re tired 

Passed by the Arc de Triomphe and took all the jumping pictures we could take until everyone got annoyed by us

Passage des Panoramas was so quaint and so sweet but not to my wallet because of all the shopping we did 

Found a little cafe around the corner and had dinner and wine outside 

I love this city 

I love this man

Wednesday: 

I had nothing planned today. Figured we’d get to what we can. But Jongdae surprised me with a Seine River cruise with sightseeing and romantic dinner included. 

You already know how I’m going to end this entry for the day. ❤️

Thursday: 

More touristy things: Luxembourg Gardens, Musee Rodin, Sainte-Chapelle. 

But what took the cake was THE OPERA. THE. OPERA. My heart. I’m sure Jongdae’s heart exploded too. If he was in awe at those museums, that was nothing compared to this. 

We also got to dress fancy and stuff, so that was fun. 

I ❤️ Jongdae. 

Friday: 

Writing early today but we’ve got the Eiffel Tower planned for the night. Taking our time this morning. Will write more tomorrow. 

“Wow,” you murmured as you both looked out at the view. You’d both decided to go during nighttime to get the best view of the city and you were glad that you both did. The stars in the sky were bright, contrasted against the dark sky while the aged buildings shone throughout the city. 

“Yeah,” said Jongdae, reaching for your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. You glanced over at him and smiled. “Did I tell you how happy I am that we both finally got time away together?” 

He laughed softly (and somewhat shamefully) and nodded, “Almost everyday, Y/N. You’re making me feel guilty now!” 

You shook your head and laid your head on his shoulder while you looked out at the view once more. “It’s not that!” you chuckled while he kissed the top of your forehead. “I like making memories with you, y’know? It’s fun. And it’s our memories.” 

There was a silence as you both took in the view. It didn’t even matter that the top of the Eiffel Tower was crowded with other tourists or that everyone was too loud. The both of you were in your sudden, peaceful circle and no one else can interrupt you both. 

You reached for your phone to snap pictures, even taking a few selfies with Jongdae and thought to yourself that these were ones that you both definitely will have to print and frame later on. 

“Hey, Y/N,” said Jongdae as he tugged at your hand. “What’d you said earlier... about making memories with you.” 

“...Yeah?” 

You noticed that he glanced around him and your brow furrowed in confusion. What was he up to? You’d thought he’d outdone himself with all the surprises on this trip already. 

Then, he got on one knee. His other hand reaching for his pocket to retrieve a small, black box that could only hold one equally small yet very important thing. 

“Jongdae!” you whispered, your eyes wide while his eyes turned to crescents while he laughed softly, his smile bright. 

“Y/N,” he continued, ignoring all the murmurs and excited mutters from the other tourists around. “I can’t imagine my life without you and I want to keep making more memories with you, whether it’s here in Paris, in Korea, at our first home, with our family... if you’d let me. If you’d do me the honor, I would love to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

Saturday: 

I’m engaged! I’m going to marry the man I love. 

[karasunocurry]

Atsukashiyama Ibun Paris report

So I’m home and I feel like I’m in a post-convention depression more that I’ve felt after recent cons xD I was kind of sad that I wasn’t at Japan Expo Paris, I didn’t actually know beforehand they’d be there ^^; and I couldn’t take days off or afford to go either way, but I’d been looking forward to the musical for an entire week (including losing sleep over it, oops). I went to Paris on Friday and met up with Edo and did some shopping for items we needed (or didn’t need but I have a backscratcher that acts as extendable Ishikirimaru prop now xD). Later met up with Mai & Katy and then had a late but well-deserved dinner at a Japanese restaurant.

Saturday I attended the fanmeet near the Louvre. It was warm and we tried to stay in the shade of the trees. Some people came in cosplay (brave! but not smart xD) and it was fun to see all the itabags gathering. I didn’t talk to that many people but it was great meeting @sohmariku and talking about Japan and subbing. There was a lot of things going on in terms of ‘what we can do for the boys’, like signing a flag, writing short messages for Kitazono Ryo and even recording video messages (which I fucked up- and once I make a mistake I’m done for xD). Took a break early in the evening because I was tired and started getting a really bad headache, but met up with a group of people for dinner, and then went to bed. For some reason, woke up way too early every day but *shrug* it must be a jiji thing.

Sunday- performance day

Aaand then it was Sunday. I’d also decided to write letters on a whim but I only ended up writing two (for Sakiyama & Ryuji) and a get well soon card for Ryo.  I went to the venue around 10, to meet up with Edo and Katy again and check how everything would be organized. It appeared that goods would only be sold 45 minutes before the show. Uhm. I didn’t think too much of it at that point, but luckily Edo was very much set on getting in early for merch, so I was also pretty much in front of the line of one of the entrances.  Good thing too, because the goods stand was too small and too slow to allow many people to actually get their stuff. I managed to buy bromides, the pamphlet and a penlight - decided against the DVD bc I can get it cheaper online - and after I went to the toilet, they already announced that not many more people would be able to buy goods. I went in and took my seat and was later joined by Senta, who’d never watched the musical before so it was fun to afterwards hear what she thought of it and explain some more about the connection between the swords and their former masters. I wasn’t very much at the front but had a good view on the entire stage. At first the full cast and the producer (and writer?) took the stage to explain the Kitazono Ryo’s medical condition - he’d been diagnosed with retinal detachment and was advised not to act on stage, but he could do his lines and vocals. They then called him on stage, and you could tell by his posture and face that this was a very difficult thing to do. Ryo cried through his words and could hardly speak, it was so very sad to see him like this, apologizing for not being able to be on stage. He got a big round of applause and took a spot behind the audience from where he’d act out his lines. [spoilers ahead]

The musical started off differently, with Mikazuki doing a dance - immediately making the link to Tsuwamonodomo stronger - while the ‘human’ story played out behind him. They also added that smithing song between Mikazuki and Kogitsunemaru. There were some obvious changes to the musical, but mostly subltle changes in conversations and little things added here and there. The overall flow of the story remains the same, of course, but the musical has evolved through time and you can tell that there’s improvement in all aspects (although it was always great haha). The presence of Kogi on stage was not a big problem for the course of the story, since his interaction is mostly limited to speaking to others, aside from the song he shared with Mikazuki and ofc in the group scenes, there is an empty spot, but even so his character was there. It was still sad to see everyone looking at that empty spot, but I’m just glad that at least he was allowed to and able to perform by speaking.

I love the scenes with Benkei and Iwatooshi - let’s be honest, Iwatooshi is the new guy at the citadel in this piece and he’s so fucking strong, bless him. Just like his former master, he’s a good man with a strong sense of duty and good intuition. And his doubt and resolve are played out very well. Araki Kentaro is also great as Yoshitsune, in every performance he’s been able to express the duality between human Yoshitsune and possessed Yoshitsune very well. 

I also think everyone grew in their respective characters and the singing was also better than before. Everyone’s performance was outstanding. Mikazuki’s elegance, Iwatooshi’s strength, Ishikirimaru’s protectiveness, Kashuu’s vigor, Imanotsurugi’s enery and Kogi’s empathy, it was all there. I just love how these characters influence each other. At the end, the fighting got more intense than it was before, adding some dramatic despair that I don’t think I felt before during that scene, and I don’t think anyone would ever complain about Daichi’s bare back :) The Idol Live part was all new!! Surprisingly, I wasn’t expecting that and as people later pointed out, it was nowhere hinted at either - no idol outfit bromides for us yet, but I’d love to get those!.I love the new outfits, they were very nicely coordinated, the original character colours were used very well, and the jackets with connecting lines look so fabulous <3  The songs were also very good! Very upbeat and catchy and boi the dance moves!! I was really impressed and as Ishikirimaru fan I’ve been eyeing Sakiyama most of the time - hard to ignore his tight pants and smooth moves xD I have a vague feeling they also gave him more center stage time? His popularity has climbed since the first Atsukashiyama run so I guess they might take that into consideration? It made me happy to see that they looked like they were having a lot of fun, despite everything, that they were giving their all in a foreign country, and by the amount of pen lights and different colours, everyone had fans and I hope they felt our love~

They also kept up with the misogi tradition where someone has to say a line in repsonse to a given situation. Mikazuki got picked and instead of giving us a line, he had to flash his back, this kinky mofo. Mario ma boy you  know what you’re about don’t you. <3 At the end they all presented themselves in French (v cute baww), aaand it ended with otokomichi as usual but that entire song/act is just A+++, it’s such a motivating song. Everyone looked happy. They got a lot of applause, a standing ovation WELL DESERVED and in the end, all pen lights turned yellow to wave at Ryo as he left his spot. I hope he got some strenth and courage from it, and felt less burdened. I went out... Edo and Katy went to the evening performance too. I was thinking of just hanging around or maybe going to the hotel but - France had just won the world cup and Paris had exploded into a chaotic soccer mess that I wanted no part of - so I bought a rank 2 ticket and went in again. (yolo is a thing, this might well be the only time to ever see a toumyu live) Things about seeing it twice:  - Ryozono had regained his composure. I think that the successful afternoon performance and the fan’s reactions had made him feel at least less worried. He apologized this time with a strong and confident voice. Bless him. - There was a scene where Ishi wanted to draw Kashuu’s portrait (ref to Mihotose), but he forgot his pen xD He glossed it over real smooth. GJ Sakiyama <3 - It was misogi time for Ishikirimaru!! I may have screamed. I wish I’d remembered exactly what he said but it was about hugging, I think my brain just melted hence the bad memory. ^^;;;

- For the idol performance we took different seats at the side to see the actors from closer by.<3  - Sadly there were a lot of empty seats for the evening performance. It would’ve been hard to get home when the musical was over so I understand but I also think they should have done a better job at promoting the entire event. It’s alway been hard to get information, most of it  had been translated by fans from the official Japanese site. People came from all over Europe and more people would come if you’d done proper promotion beforehand. Uhm... I think that’s it. It was great. I had an amazing time with the people I was with and talked to and I wish I’d been there today as well to talk about it even more but HMU ok.

Can I just say I’m into hell even deeper now? That I fucking love Tsubasa? But also Daichi? But also Mario? Actually EVERYONE??? I’m really really really happy I decided to go, best decision, kill me now (but I’m already dead), I haven’t been able to think of anything else and I’m definitely not ready to go to work tomorrow. I hope this does still open doors to more (tourabu) musicals and/or stage plays to come to Europe. It’s very niche but it’s still a growing fandom. I’m more motivated again to do some subbing to spread the love for the stages/musicals that I like and hope people will join us in this hell and start supporting the boys and their work.

<3

more random stuff on twitter

[historian-in-pearls]

Aaaaall the warm-hearted asks! 😊😘💖 With "Name three things (for each) you'd love to do if/when you visit London, Paris and Oslo" for the final question 😉💕💖🌹🗼🌷🍦

THANK YOU, you're so good to me!!

Weather - What do you love most?

Besides my loved ones--coffee, books, classical music

Dove - How do you express love?

I'm very verbally affectionate. I also love taking care of people--making them food or coffee, bringing them treats, looking after their needs of all sorts.

Friendship Bracelet - What does friendship mean to you?

Friendship is being there for a person, holding their good things & bad things like you would your own. It's also laughing a lot.

Loveseat- Describe your ideal house

I'd love a bungalow or Victorian cottage. Tons of colors and patterns and life. Plenty of bookshelves with rolling ladders. A little garden.

Record Player - Love songs or breakup songs?

Love songs. I'm definitely a romantic at heart.

Stargaze - Celebrity crush?

The late, great John Quincy Adams

Planter - Do you have a green thumb?

I'm working on it. Right now I'm struggling with houseplants. I do have an herb garden of which I'm very fond.

Linen - Do you prefer being friends with someone before starting a romantic relationship with them or starting straight into love?

Friendship first. I like that foundation to be there, because a firm foundation gives the base for all sorts of growth.

Hot Cocoa - Three things you love about yourself?

I'm smart, creative, and compassionate.

Valentine - Do you like pda?

I do not. I'm very private about that area of my life and it always surprises me when people aren't.

Succulent - What are you looking forward to?

It's going to SNOW tonight and I'm seeing two of my closest friends tomorrow night! It's going to be lovely.

Bath bomb - What is the best form of self care?

Taking care of what my therapist calls your "vulnerability factors"--making sure you aren't too hungry, thirsty, tired, or over/understimulated.

Roadtrip - Where is the farthest you’ve been from home?

Anaheim to the west, Lille or Madrid to the east.

Brown Sugar - What is making your heart warm today?

A close friend texted me this afternoon telling me she's making a cake for my birthday dinner with them tomorrow night. So sweet, and she's the best baker I know!

Pearls - Do you want to get married?

Someday, probably, once my mental health is sorted out.

Seaside - Ideal date?

Dinner and the symphony.

Luna Moth - City or country?

City, definitely. I appreciate the country, I really do, but I can't manage without the symphony, ballet, bookstores, theater, etc etc.

Velvet - What is your style?

My style is a weird mix of girly/classic/bohemian. It's peculiar, but it suits me, I think.

Cupcake - Are you in love?

I am not, for which I am frankly thankful because I have enough going on as it is.

Romcom - Is your story a comedy or tragedy?

A comedy, definitely. Even I have to laugh sometimes.

Sunset - Ask anything you want!

Okay, things I'd like to do in...

London: I went to school here, and I'd love to revisit my old haunts in the Regent's Park area, go back to the British Museum, and go shopping & for tea at Harrods.

Paris: One of my favorites! The Louvre, Saint-Chappelle, and Notre Dame, for sure.

Oslo: In my top three of places I'm dying to visit. I want to go to the Viking Ship Museum, the Oslo Fjord, and the Norsk Folkemuseum. Someday...

[munofsilver]

Hidden Secret Chapter 6

Nathaniel and Malissa have a nondate at the Louvre. Things are going well for now. Ao3 Link.

Sabrina comes home to a panic Chloe. She's wearing Malissa work uniform, but her wig and contacts are off/out. Her hair is still up in the wig cap. The half Chloe and half Malissa is pacing back and forth bitting the tip of her thumb while holding her old teddy bear, Mr. Cuddly. Sabrina drops her stuff and rushes to her friend. She didn't even close the door. “Talk to me,” she said holding Chloe's shoulders. “I think I have a date with Nathaniel, tomorrow,” Chloe squeaked. “What?!” Sabrina yells causing the downstairs neighbors the bang on the floor.

“I was hoping you were going to join us, but I was stupid I made a sightseeing trip with him without asking if you were free,” Chloe looks like she's about to cry. “Talk me through this, Chloe.” The blonde hair girl takes a few deep breaths. “Nathaniel invited me to go with him to the Louvre, I was planning on going this weekend with you. When I told him that he said he doesn't mind. Now that you can't.” Chloe doesn't need to finish.

“See if you can get out of it.” Sabrina looks at her. “It's too late for that isn't it?” Chloe nods her head slowly. “Don't freak out. Just stay far away from him and don't do anything else,” Sabrina adviced Chloe. “We also have class Friday. What if he wants to take me to dinner before class?” Chloe is still panicking. Chloe looks down at her arms. She forgot she was still holding Mr. Cuddly. She brings him to her chest and gives him a big hug.

Wanting to change the subject hoping it would help Chloe feel better, Sabrina speaks again, “Did you get your ears pierced like you wanted?” Chloe stops hugging her teddy bear and looks at Sabrina. “Yes,” she shows Sabrina her earrings. “Nice, cute starfish.” Chloe smiles and puts Mr. Cuddly on her bed. “I also got these,” she places a small white folded bag in Sabrina's hands. Inside was a little white box with a note taped on it. “Did you read this note?” Sabrina asked. “What note?” Chloe takes the box and looks at the note. Nathaniel has given her his number.

Nathaniel couldn't stop smiling, he's very excited about his date with Malissa. Then his smile just leaves and is replaced with shock. “I have a date with one of my students! I can't do that. I should cancel.” He thinks of Malissa being sad that they didn't go to the Louvre. “I need a new idea. I don't want to disappoint her.” He sits down at his drawing desk, thinking. Then he picks up his phone and just stares at it for a bit.

He jumps when his phone rings. It's his mother, that's a surprise. “Hello, mother.” There was nothing for a bit before a very tired sound womon spoked. “Hello, son. I just got an odd call.” There was a yawn. Before Nathaniel could ask or say anything his mother spoke again. “You're sister told me that you have a date with one of your students.” Nathaniel is going to kill his little sister. “Nathaniel Kurtzberg I know you and your student are both adults, but you shouldn't be dating your student. Could you at least wait until the class is over?” Nathaniel is so not up for this.

She didn't have to use his full name. “Mom it's not what you think. She's new to Paris and I just want to show her around the Louvre. That's all mom. It's not like I want to be her boyfriend.” He defends himself. “Besides her roommate is also joining us,” he lied. “I didn't hear about that part. I'm sorry for yelling. Love you son.” The call ends. Right away Nathaniel makes a call. “Natalie Kurtzberg why did you tell our mom I was dating, Malissa?” “What's with the full name?” she asked.

“You know what you did,” he growls. “You mean about the date?” She acts like she doesn't know.  “Why just why?” Nathaniel is getting a bit upset. “She called to check up on me and she asked about you....” She trailed off. “There are many things you could have said, not I have a date with one of my students, when you know I don't.” He only hears snorting. Natalie does that when she trying not to laugh. “You can make it up to me, by going with us to the Louvre tomorrow at six,” Nathaniel tries to hide his disappointment.

“Why, bro?” “Natalie you know I don't like it when you call me bro. Her roommate can't make it and I don't want to cancel on Malissa. I know it would disappoint her,” he voice turns sad towards the end. “Nath, why do you need someone there with you two?” Her tone is full of concern. “Then it would be a date. Not a friend date but a real date,” he looks over some half-finished drawings. “What's wrong with that? Is it cause she's one of your students?”

When Nathaniel doesn't say anything Natalie knew that was the answer. “Why does that bother you?” Nathaniel sighed, “I'm not sure. We both are adults. What would others think?” “Who cares? I know mom would not happy about it.” “There's a reason for that,” he cuts his sister off. “I know. I was there when it happened,” she walks over to her bed and lays down. “You were also five at the time and I was fifteen.” Nathaniel stated “Whatever, just because of what happened with mom doesn't mean it's going to happen to you. I had a few good talks with Malissa and she doesn't seem to be that type of person. I would hold off being her boyfriend until you had a few dates. If you want me there with you, I will.”

Nathaniel was very happy and glad to hear that. “Thank you. Can you call Malissa and tell her you're coming?” Nathaniel leans back in his chair. “Why can't you?” Natalie sits up. “I don't have her number.” Nathaniel turns in his chair to face a wall. “I guess I could give it to you, but I have to go now.” She ends the call. Nathaniel was about to call her back when his phone rings again. It's a new unknown number. “Hello,” he answered the call. “Nathaniel, this is Malissa.” Once again he jumps up, this time right out of his chair. Lucky he didn't drop his phone.

“Why would he give me his number?” Chloe just stares at the note. “He does want to get to know Malissa,” Sabrina puts the box back in the bag. “We both know that's a bad thing,” Chloe growls. She doesn't need this right now and is about to freak out again. Chloe grabs Mr. Cuddly again. Then she drops him. “This is good, now I can cancel the date with him,” she says with glee.

“Chloe before you do, you may need to think carefully about what to say. Remember if you cancel it you still have the class with him in the evening.” Sabrina makes a good point. Chloe thinks for a minute then she claps her hands together. “I got it. I can say I got called into work.” Sabrina doesn't say anything for a bit. “He knows where you work and might try to see you there.” Sabrina makes another good point. “Damn Nathaniel,” Chloe shouts and she flops on her bed.

They both think of a reason for Chloe to not go on the date. Sadly not much comes to mind. “What if I had a funeral to go to?” Chloe asked sitting up. “Too soon unless the person died today,” Sabrina sits in the orange chair. “I know a wedding is out cause I would have known about it a while ago.” Sabrina nods in agreement. They both go back to thinking. “Why haven't I thought of this before?” Chloe claps her hands. “I call in sick,” she stares at Sabrina to see what she says. After a while, Sabrina smiles. “If you don't mind missing your class, then that's a good idea.” Chloe with a plan picks up her phone.

“Malissa, hello, hi,” Nathaniel tries to sound cool. To bad he kind of failing at it. “Just wondering, why did you give me your number?” Her tone is neutral. “Was that wrong of me to do?” Nathaniel's voice lowers. “Not at all. I was just wondering. If you wanted to exchange numbers you could have told me.” Nathaniel finally breaths. “I guess I could have after I pierced your ears.” They both laugh. More like he laughs and she just chuckles. “My sister wants to join us tomorrow. I hope you don't mind,” Nathaniel smiles at no one. Chloe is beaming with joy. “I don't mind at all. I like your sister. She seems full of energy.”

“She's only seventeen. So she has nothing but energy,” Nathaniel smiles. “She's only seventeen,” Chloe shouts dropping her phone. Nathaniel can hear her saying, “Nathaniel's sister is seventeen.” Then he hears Sabrina's voice. “I know. She's ten years younger than him. You might want to pick the dropped phone.” 'I wish I could see her now.' Nathaniel stops that thought before it could go any further. “She doesn't look that young,” Nathaniel could hear Malissa speaking now. “The phone,” Sabrina stated pointing to it again.

“Sorry,” Malissa tells Nathaniel. “That's alright. Natalie does look older than she really is.” “I kind of feel bad that she paid for lunch. I'll pay her back at the Louvre,” she said more to herself than anything. “You don't need to,” Nathaniel jumped in. 'Oh, right I'm on the phone.' Chloe mentally slaps herself. “So we're still on at six or do we need to change the time cause of your sister?” Malissa coughs to clear her throat. “Still on at six,” Nathaniel happily chirps. “See you then,” Malissa ends the call.          

Right away Nathaniel adds Malissa to his contacts. Now he has her number, just what Nathaniel wanted. “What should I wear?” Nathaniel rushes off to his closet, looking at his wardrobe. “I need something that says this isn't a date at the same time not too casual.”

Chloe puts down the phone and frees her hair from the wig cap. “No need to worry. His sister is joining us,” she says happily. “I got that,” Sabrina laughs. Chloe is now dressed in Chloe's clothes. “Now that it's all over, what would you like for dinner?” Sabrina asked on the other side of the door. “If you don't mind I already put a roast in the slow cooker before work today. It should be ready in an hour.” Chloe answered as she opened the door.

After dinner, Sabrina does the dishes while Chloe cleans the bathroom. While cleaning Chloe hums a little tune. She didn't even notice she was, and if Sabrina was there she would have. After cleaning they both relax in the living room, watching some TV. It was a movie about the heroes of Paris. Ladybug and Cat Noir. The movie was made years ago. “Remember when we use to dress up like them and act like Jean was an akuma we had to fight,” Sabrina glances at Chloe with a small smile. Chloe smiles as she remembers. “Those costumes were really good. We had fun.” Chloe looks at Sabrina. “Right?” Sabrina nods, “We did have fun.”

“I also remember seeing this movie in theaters,” Chloe happily sighs. “You went to see it like twenty times,” Sabrina comment. “No, I didn't.” Chloe defends herself. “I was only ten times.” Sabrina just laughs. “I remember you dressing up as Ladybug when we went to see it for the first time.” Chloe lays her head back against the wall. “You where Cat Noir.” Sabrina smiles widen.

Nathaniel is watching the same Ladybug and Cat Noir movie at home. While watching he draws like he usually does. This time he draws Ladybug and Cat Noir the newer ones. Their costumes have changed over the years. Nathaniel wonders if new people are Ladybug and Cat Noir.

He draws them in a hero pose fist pounding like they use to after defeating the akuma. Since there hasn't been one in years so they don't really do much. The police can handle most things. If they can't then the heroes will step in. At the end, they just leave no fist bump or anything. That's fine they have lives of their own. Since Nathaniel knew Ladybug was his friend Marinette when they were sixteen. He only found out cause she transformed in front of him by accident. He never told a soul and never will.

When he's done drawing he looks it over, and do little touch-ups. “Should I color this?” He asked himself. “Should I use markers or?” Still talking to himself. He starts to color it and halfway through he looks at the drawing he did of Malissa. Setting aside the hero drawing he starts to color the one of Malissa.

Nathaniel can't stop checking the time. They are going to meet at six and he got here at five. Very early but he didn't want to have them wait long, or at all. He's not sure if he wants Natalie and Malissa alone together for long. The thought of those two talking scares him. It's 5:30 he still has a half hour. Maybe he shouldn't have come so early.

In his head is a plan of what he wants to do today. Where to go, what to talk about things like that. Maybe even have some dinner before class, and of course, offer her a ride to class. Even a ride home. They could talk some more. That would be nice. Walking around the outside by his car he looks around wondering where Malissa would appear. He knows his sister would be dropped off by their mother.

“5:45 they should be here soon,” Nathaniel whispers to his phone. “Then again Natalie might be a little late,” he still whispering. “Are you talking to yourself?” He quickly turns around to see Malissa wearing grey shorts and a matching shirt with white socks that go up to her knees with black shoes with light grey tips where her toes go. Her hair is down and Nathaniel can't help but think how cute she looks.

Nathaniel also couldn't help but blush. He's not sure if it cause she's cute or causes she caught him talking to himself. Nathaniel feels like he's a bit more dressed up than her. He's wearing black jeans, his usually white shirt light grey jacket. Same shoes as always. He doesn't have any other pair but one for his only suit. He noticed that Malissa is still staring at him. “I was just checking the time,” he tries to hide his embarrassment.

They wait a few minutes for Natalie. While they are waiting Nathaniel tries to talk to her. “Do you have any siblings?” “I'm the only child, my mother died when I was a baby,” Malissa was kind of laying. Chloe is the only child, but her mother is still alive, at least she thinks her mother is alive. Chloe hasn't seen her mother since she left when she was five. Nathaniel looks at her sadly, “I'm sorry.” Malissa puts on a fake smile. “It's okay. My father told me all about her and I still have pictures of her.” Nathaniel's smile returns. Will half of it did. “That's good. My father died when I was thirteen.” Now Malissa has a sad look. “I'm sorry,” she copies him. “It's okay. He was sick for a while beforehand.” Nathaniel phone beeps.

He got a text from his sister. “It seems Natalie can't come.” He tells her. “Is everything alright?” Malissa has concern in her voice. She still doesn't want to do this alone with Nathaniel. Sadly it looks like she won't be having a choice. “She needs to study for a test and homework. Another word she's grounded again,” Nathaniel sighs. Malissa doesn't say anything, she just checks her phone and turns it off. Nathaniel turns off his phone also. “Shall we?” He asked.

Natalie puts her phone down. She hopes Nathaniel won't be too mad at her. She lied about being too busy to come. She just thinks Nathaniel and Malissa should have some time to get to know each other. There is also a chance he wouldn't find out. She just hopes he doesn't cancel. Given the time Malissa is most likely already there and Nathaniel wouldn't do that. Natalie will just have to call her brother to get the details later. Since she has nothing to else to do, she gets started on her homework.

Inside the Louvre Nathaniel is showing Malissa around. He used to come here a lot when he was younger. Remembers just looking at the artwork for inspiration. When they go to the Mona Lisa, Nathaniel remembers when a fake Cat Noir stoled it. Thinking about it made Nathaniel think of a question to ask. “Have you ever heard of Ladybug and Cat Noir?” “I saw a movie about them last night. It was on TV,” Malissa answered.  

Even though that didn't really answer Nathaniel's question. “I saw that movie last night also. I even made a little sketch of them,” Nathaniel speaks with pride in his voice. “Do you know of them besides the movie?” “Sabrina told me about them,” Malissa looks closely at the Mona Lisa. “Did you draw them a lot?” She asked looking at Nathaniel while facing the painting. “I use to draw them all the time when I was a teen and they were still fighting Hawkmoth, now only once in a while.” He dares to take a step closer towards Malissa.

“Maybe I can show you sometime,” he dares to say. He normally doesn't let anyone see his old college sketchbook. “Did you draw anything else?” Malissa walks over to the next painting. Nathaniel follows her. “Many things. I use to spend most of my time drawing.” Chloe/Malissa remember Nathaniel was always drawing in class. In fact, he got caught once and when Chloe saw his sketchbook she mocked him causing him to get akumatized. She felt guilty for doing that. She feels guilty for a lot of things she did when she was younger.

“Why did you move to Paris?” Nathaniel doesn't want to stop talking with Malissa. “I wanted to start over in life,” she shrugs. That is true for Chloe. “So you decided to move to Pairs,” Nathaniel comment. “My mother was born in Pairs and I always wanted to go to. Besides, it would be pointless to start over in the same place.” Nathaniel nods in agreement, “That does make sense. How do you like Paris?” “I love it,” Malissa said a bit loud causing Nathaniel to laugh. The blush on her face only made it worse. Nathaniel laughed more while thinking she's very cute like that. Should he think about his student like that? He wonders.  

“What did you think of the movie you saw last night?” Nathaniel is not going to let this conversion drop. “I liked it,” she chirped. “Did you know that there is a squeal? It has the other heroes in it,” Nathaniel smiles. “Other heroes?” Malissa acts like she doesn't know. Nathaniel will have to tell her about them later. He wants to talk about more than the heroes of Paris. He notices the earrings he uses to pierce her ears.

“How are the new piercing?” Malissa moves her hair behind her ear. “Fine. Natalie said you did her tattoo. I thought you had to be eighteen for that.” “Our mother said I could as long as it's not in a private place or neck.” Malissa look at the painting and Nathaniel moves closer again. Then his phone rings. “Sorry,” he picks it up. It's Lila again. He moves to the far side of the room so Malissa can't hear. He doesn't accept the call but he does send Lila a text. Then heads back over to Malissa. 

[raefill]

I would legit love to hear you answers to every single question. I don't know if you feel like actually doing them all, but if you did... I'm JUST SAYING I'D READ THE ANSWERS, ok.

1: Is there a boy/girl in your life?Yeaaaah but my romantic prospects are pretty bleak tbh, I graduate and move away in a few months

2: Think of the last person who hurt you; do you forgive them?No, not really. But I’m not mad about it anymore.

3: What do you think of when you hear the word “meow?”CUTE BABY CLOSE BY !!!!!!!!!

4: What’s something you really want right now?to cry, i’m having the big sads

5: Are you afraid of falling in love?always

6: Do you like the beach?i love the beach!!!!!!!!! i grew up in a seaside town, the beach feels like the best parts of home

7: Have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?yes ?? it was cramped and uncomfortable 

8: What’s the background on your cell?the photo of me, san, kahl, chez, frau, bagel and spags in the louvre

9: Name the last four beds you were sat on?mine(right now), Thea’s, Lizzie’s, .. Keir’s?

10: Do you like your phone?yeah but i’d like it more if the screen wasn’t so cracked

11: Honestly, are things going the way you planned?lol no, it’s definitely not

12: Who was the last person whose phone number you added to your contacts?i genuinely don’t remember !

13: Would you rather have a poodle or a Rottweiler?rottweiler, i love dogs that look a little mean but have big hearts

14: Which hurts the most, physical or emotional pain?pffffft, that’s hard to answer but i’d say generally emotional, most of the time it’s harder to get rid of emotional pain

15: Would you rather visit a zoo or an art museum?both ?! i want to support the breeding of endangered animals that happens in zoos and see the cute animals but also i love a good rembrandt ?!

16: Are you tired?exhausted

17: How long have you known your 1st phone contact?since i was born

18: Are they a relative?my mother!

19: Would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?not a fucking chance

20: When did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?a few hours ago, i think

21: If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?i don’t believe there’s a way to know nor do i think love works that way

22: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?hell yeah i would

23: How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now?none!

24: Is there a certain quote you live by?“if you make bad choices, own them” - my dad 

25: What’s on your mind?god, everything, idk im having a high key anxiety day

26: Do you have any tattoos?one pretty big one on my thigh

27: What is your favorite color?black !!!!!!!!!!

28: Next time you will kiss someone on the lips?maybe tomorrow, we’ll see how it goes

29: Who are you texting?uhhh, no one? everyone is asleep

30: Think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on a couch?yes

31: Have you ever had the feeling something bad was going to happen and you were right?all the time, my gut rarely lies

32: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?yes, his name is keir and he’s one of my best friends

33: Do you think anyone has feelings for you?i mean i’m dating someone so i fucking hope so

34: Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?no ? i dont think ? i’ve had people say they’re big or the colour is interesting but idk

35: Say the last person you kissed was kissing someone right in front of you?i’d cheer her on

36: Were you single on Valentines Day?yes

37: Are you friends with the last person you kissed?yes!

38: What do your friends call you?rae ?

39: Has anyone upset you in the last week?yes

40: Have you ever cried over a text?pffft, yah

41: Where’s your last bruise located?my knee

42: What is it from?i fell over my own computer chair

43: Last time you wanted to be away from somewhere really bad?today

44: Who was the last person you were on the phone with?my mum, i think

45: Do you have a favourite pair of shoes?not right now, most i just wear my plain black docs

46: Do you wear hats if your having a bad hair day?no, i just tie is back

47: Would you ever go bald if it was the style?no, i really dont like my ears, idk why

48: Do you make supper for your family?yeah, my mum and step dad can’t cook

49: Does your bedroom have a door?ofc it does? what kind of bedroom doesn’t have a door? get these pretentious loft bedrooms out of my face

50: Top 3 web-pages?tumblr, ao3, youtube

51: Do you know anyone who hates shopping?plenty!

52: Does anything on your body hurt?period pains are all the rage today

53: Are goodbyes hard for you?yeah but i don’t tend to cry until they’ve already left so i look like i take them just fine

54: What was the last beverage you spilled on yourself?water......... this morning

55: How is your hair?fine? a bit damaged from the cold weather

56: What do you usually do first in the morning?wish i was still asleep

57: Do you think two people can last forever?yes

58: Think back to January 2007, were you single?i dont fucking know

59: Green or purple grapes?GREEN or get out of my face

60: When’s the next time you will give someone a BIG hug?tomorrow~

61: Do you wish you were somewhere else right now?yes

62: When will be the next time you text someone?tomorrow!

63: Where will you be 5 hours from now?probably in bed still, but asleep

64: What were you doing at 8 this morning.sleeping

65: This time last year, can you remember who you liked?no, i was getting over the end of a four year relationship

66: Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile?no

67: Did you kiss or hug anyone today?no

68: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?this sucks

69: Have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?many times

70: How many windows are open on your computer?ten! and they’re mostly your fics corey, go figure

71: How many fingers do you have?ten

72: What is your ringtone?i dont know, my phone is always on silent

73: How old will you be in 5 months?22 ~

74: Where is your Mum right now?sleeping in bed probably, idfk, she lives hours away

75: Why aren’t you with the person you were first in love with or almost in love?we grew up and grew apart but we were still okay until i had about four-six months of depression where i had to stop myself from doing something stupid daily and he didn’t notice despite us living together and sharing a bedroom (and those times i told him and he shrugged)

76: Have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?yes

77: Are you friends with the people you were friends with two years ago?yes! i still love them very much

78: Do you remember who you had a crush on in year 7?annabelle

79: Is there anyone you know with the name Mike?yes, there’s some grad students in the psych department called mike, they all look kinda the same too

80: Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?yeah, i miss being able to do that regularly

81: How many people have you liked in the past three months?more than i can count, my polyamorous ass has a crush on about seven people currently

82: Has anyone seen you in your underwear in the last 3 days?no

83: Will you talk to the person you like tonight?i’m talking to one of them

84: You’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?i’d literally never do this

85: If your BF/GF was into drugs would you care?depends which drugs and how often, no one cares about a joint every few months

86: What was the most eventful thing that happened last time you went to see a movie?i spilled my popcorn and managed to hide that i had spilled it from my date pahaha

87: Who was your last received call from?my mum, wow it sounds like i talk to my mum a lot more than i do

88: If someone gave you $1,000 to burn a butterfly over a candle, would you?yes, i hate bugs, give me the money

89: What is something you wish you had more of?time, energy, patience, money

90: Have you ever trusted someone too much?no, i’m not someone who trusts easily

91: Do you sleep with your window open?only in the summer

92: Do you get along with girls?yes, anyone that doesn’t get on with someone because of their gender is an asshole

93: Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth?nope

94: Does sex mean love?hell no, it can be an expression of it but no

95: You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?yeah she wold be freaking the fuck out because she’s locked in a room!

96: Have you ever kissed anyone with a lip ring?no, actually, i haven’t

97: Did you sleep alone this week?yes

98: Everybody has somebody that makes them happy, do you?yes ? 

99: Do you believe in love at first sight?no, not at all

100: Who was the last person that you pinky promise?one of my besties, holly