#it would be just like me to make up with my estranged kids and then immediately decide i need to make everybody hate me bc im too evil

[nobodysdaydreams]

Giving a complicated tragic childhood backstory to your favorite character is all fun and games, until you realize you need to account for how old all the other adult characters would have been at the time and realize that scenes that would work perfectly if one character was twenty three and the other was fourteen stop working when you need other characters who are played by adult actors clearly younger than they are to be in college at the same time so your story beats line up thematically.

[gasterofficial]

that's a mood, actually, yeah. also, being hated is comfortably familiar. it's a situation that one knows how to handle, alongside feeling like exactly what one deserves.

IT IS EASY. IT IS PREDICTABLE. AND I AM SO VERY TIRED.

PERHAPS IT TRULY IS WHAT I DESERVE.

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ TREAT YOU BETTER!

♰ featuring: sae itoshi + rin itoshi (mentioned) [blue lock]

♰ note: this one is a DOOSY and i'm not even kidding when i say it took me 9 hours and 45 minutes to complete this, over the course of two days of course. However, as my first time ever writing on tumblr, i decided to go all out! that being said, it would mean a lot to me if you would support this work by reading, liking, and reblogging!

sypnosis: why be with his lukewarm little brother when you could be with him instead? wc: 6.6k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. fem/fem-bodied reader. POST BLUE LOCK. sibling rivalry. implied thick/chubby!reader. sae is mean. jealous!sae. bully!sae. rin is 19. sae is 21. CHEATING. degradation. unprotected sex. fingering. squirting. rough sex. DUBIOUS CONTENT. spanking. dacryphilia. slut shaming. groping. implied size kink. minor angst. hair pulling. ONE face slap. pussy slapping.꒷꒦ view the second part here: part two.

Coming home for the holidays, birthdays, or other special occasions is somewhat of a family tradition that enables people to slow down and focus on spending quality time with loved ones. These kinds of celebrations give families that may otherwise be estranged from one another due to work or geography the chance to reunite and enjoy each other's company. And this reasoning was no different in the Itoshi household. What was the occasion for this month’s gathering? Well, it was Mama Itoshi’s birthday, of course!

You see, you have known Rin and Sae Itoshi since you were all very young. Your mothers were best friends, and by default, that meant that you three would become close as well.

Growing up with the Itoshi brothers, on the other hand, was . . . interesting, to say the least. Where Rin found your presence to be refreshing, Sae found you to be a nuisance. You didn’t care for football; you got in the way of his practice; and you were a girl. He always thought you were too weak to play with, and he didn’t hesitate to make his feelings known to you. Pulling your hair until you screamed, pushing you around when you weren’t even in his way, and calling you mean names until your little E/C eyes welded up with fat tears were just some of the things he would do to torment you. Had it not been for little Rinnie stepping in and protecting you from his brother’s outright bullying, Sae most likely would’ve continued until you cried to your mom about how mean Sae-chan was to you. But you would never do that. Your little crush on him would never allow you to get him into trouble.

Nii-chan! Don’t be too mean to Y/N. You’ll make her inner crybaby come out!

When Sae was especially cruel to you, Rin was always there to lift your spirits. He would tell you not to worry about his "meanie Nii-chan," take your hand and wipe your tears and snotty face, and lead you up to his room where you two could watch movies and play action figures away from his brother's taunts. Even if he could not take you away right away, for instance, if you three were at the park, he would always come and ride the swings or the big slides with you just to make you happy. Despite Sae’s every protest about how you were nothing more than a distraction to him, Rin, and football, you knew that your friendship was sincere and unbreakable.

As you three went through the ups and downs of childhood, you also weathered the storms of adolescence together. Sae left for Madrid, leaving you, Rin, and your previous feelings for his older brother behind to navigate the social awkwardness of junior high and share in each other's accomplishments while he was with his football team and you were at your respective clubs. Your friendship was a source of strength during those formative years, providing solace and understanding when the world seemed confusing.

As you two approached your high school years, something began to change. Accidental touches felt more like fleeting sparks, while innocent glances became lingering stares. Neither of you fully comprehended your newfound feelings, tiptoeing around the unsaid emotions that seemed to glimmer between the two of you until the day Rin asked you to be his just before entering Blue Lock. Now, for the past three years, you have been a happy couple, embarking on the dreaded hell of adulthood and the next chapter of your lives hand-in-hand.

Back in the present, the two of you were glad that Rin finally had some downtime from soccer—well . . . more so you than him. Even after the events of Blue Lock, he and Sae remained rivals, seizing any opportunity they could to humiliate each other on the field. That being said, Rin was almost always in the gym, meditating, doing yoga, or practicing his skills to pass the time. It was nice to be able to spend time together without the stress of his next upcoming game or press conference.

Because it was his mother's birthday weekend and all, she would, of course, invite her boys to come to stay with her and their father for the occasion, which included you too since you were Rin’s girlfriend. However, in the few days that you and Rin have already been at his childhood home, Sae had yet to arrive, and no one had heard from him since he texted his mother that he was on his way to the airport to depart. Regardless, the family was busy finalizing plans for their mother's big day. Mr. Itoshi was at the bakery finalizing the details for his wife's cake, Mrs. Itoshi was out for brunch with your mother, and Rin had gone for an afternoon jog because "staying cooped up all day will turn him into a lukewarm lard ass," in his words. As for you? You had just begun to rise, completing some housework in one of Rin’s old jerseys and washing the dishes on which you and Rin had just eaten a delicious breakfast.

After completing your tasks, you made your way back up the lavish stairs of their home with every intention of going back into Rin’s childhood room that you two were sharing for the weekend when you froze. Your gaze traveled to the opposite end of the hallway, to the closed door whose presence loomed in the distance—Sae’s room.

Memories from your childhood flashed back to you, of you watching him and Rin play all too violent and scary zombie video games, rewatching his matches, and, most begrudgingly, the numerous times he nudged your head with his foot and tousled your perfectly styled hair just to get a rise out of you.

Cringing internally at the past memories, you took a further step in the direction of Rin's room before hesitating once more.

It wouldn’t hurt to take a little peek inside Sae’s room, would it?

Despite your better judgment, you shuffled over the closed door and paused with your slender digits loosely encircling the handle. Your stomach churned and your heart thumped in your chest as your inner voice warned you not to enter another person's private space without their consent. But hold on—why were you getting anxious? Who was going to catch you when no one was at home? Turning the knob gently, the heavy oak door would give way with the tiniest of creaks, revealing a rather uninteresting-looking room. But given that Sae had rarely if ever, been home since junior high, it only made sense for it to be so plain. Aside from the plethora of trophies, medals, certificates, and framed photos that lined his dresser, what made it even more amusing was that those were only the leftovers from what could not fit in his trophy case beside his wooden dresser, which housed some of his youth team jerseys and junior trinkets.

You crept further into the cold room, wrapping your arms around yourself, and shuffled over to the plethora of awards from Sae's tireless efforts. As much as you weren’t fond of him, you had to admit that it was beyond admirable that a child was able to accomplish so much in so little time. He possessed a natural talent that professionals would kill for and others were envious of. Even though you were never interested in the sport, you envied him for being so naturally gifted at something he was passionate about.

“Some ‘monster genius’, huh?” You scoffed to yourself as your gaze fell on the last photo of Sae and Rin playing on the same team together before their relationship fell apart. Oh, how you miss those good old days of your youth.

“The fuck are you doing in here?”

Coming from behind you, an all too familiar voice startled you out of your reverie. Turning around, your wide eyes came to rest on Sae's form, which was motionless in the doorway, his stoic visage forever unamused, and his overnight shoulder bag resting by his feet.

When did he come in?

More notably, he’s . . . changed from the last time you’ve seen him since the U-20 vs. Blue Lock game three years ago. He was a bit taller, probably around 6’2” now. Because he was wearing a long-sleeved white compression shirt and gray sweatpants, you were able to see that his muscles were more defined than before, with every ridge and curve pronounced more vividly. His maroon locks had grown a bit longer, with his fringes now reaching slightly beyond his chiseled, clenched jaw, though his bangs remained forever lopsided and flipped back. And his turquoise eyes—had they gotten even sharper since the last time you'd seen them? The way they were glowering down at you, it was almost as though they were piercing right through your very soul.

“You deaf or something, you half-brained moron?”

Your eyes rolled exasperatedly into the back of your head as he rudely interrupted your thoughts. Only ten seconds after you reconnected, here he was spewing insults your way.

“Nice to see you too, Sae.” You grumbled sarcastically, internally dreading what this weekend would hold in store for the both of you.

In response, he hummed, remaining motionless in the doorway as his teal eyes bore into you with something unknown. The truth is, while you were distracted by his physical appearance, he was ogling you in the same manner. You had grown since the last time he’d seen you when you were back in high school. Your once innocent eyes now had a glint in them that could only be described as nubile; your once round cheeks had slimmed a bit to fit your maturing features; and your body . . . Damn, have you really grown over the years. You had developed a more feminine frame, with fuller thighs, widened hips, larger breasts, and a more prominent ass. You had developed into a truly breathtaking young woman, despite how much he hated to admit it.

“Almost thought you weren’t going to show at all.” You sighed, lazily checking your nails. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I live here.” His voice was deadpan and monotone, yet it held an underlying hint of irritation. “All these years have passed since grade school, and you’re still as braindead as when you were a child.”

“And you’re just as much of an asshole as you used to be.”

You resisted the urge to sneer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he was getting under your skin, as you dropped your arms to your sides. When you made this motion, his brows would furrow, and he would cast a scrutinizing glare at your choice of clothing.

Talking to him was futile, and you did not want to be in this room any longer than necessary now that he was there. “Good to have you home, genius.” You spat sarcastically, attempting to push past him to exit the room, when all of a sudden his large hand would seize your bicep, halting your steps.

Your head snapped to him, your gaze a mixture of frustration and confusion as your lips parted to shout a rebuttal his way; however, upon seeing the blazing fire that had ignited in his eyes, you hesitated. His eyes narrowed to thin slits, like two fiery coals burning fiercely within his sockets. The intensity of his gaze was enough to send shivers down your spine, making you acutely aware of the gravity of his sudden wrath. His jaw clenched tightly, showing the strain of controlling his rage, and his brows furrowed, forming a menacing V-shape above his oculars.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He seethed through clenched teeth, his voice deep and full of poorly contained malice.

You blinked. Your jaw dropped as you gawked at him, beyond perplexed. He had caught you so off guard that even you had to check what you were wearing to make sure you were not wearing anything objectionable. Nothing worth offending—fuzzy black pajama shorts that hugged your plush thighs, plain slippers, Rin's worn-out football jersey.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, you coy little slut.”

That silenced you effectively. Your eyes enlarged—almost lamblike—and your pretty lips drew in a subtle gasp. Any previous spark that had been ignited within you had quickly diminished, choosing silence over tossing more gasoline onto Sae’s roaring flames.

It appeared as though his entire being was directing his wrath into his single, piercing gaze as every muscle in his face tightened with each passing second. His lips, which are typically flat or curved into an unamused frown, were now deep-set, corners tugging into an awful scowl.

“Why are you wearing that lukewarm loser’s jersey?” When you should be wearing mine?

Now it was your turn to be infuriated as he insulted your boyfriend—his brother—the same person he had thrown out like garbage all those years earlier. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest that you could hear your blood pumping in your ears.

“So I’m not allowed to wear my own boyfriend’s jersey now, fuckface?” His gaze faltered. “You going to call me names for that too, Sae? Pull my hair? Spit in my face? Huh?”

“*What did you just say?”

“I said are you going to—”

“No, you cow-titted bimbo. The first thing you said.” He leaned in closer to your face, his eyes owlish and unblinking since you opened your mouth. You could smell his minty breath from the gum he had been chewing wafting into your face, “Say it again.”

“I’m not allowed to wear my boyfriend’s jersey?” You repeated, confusion etching your tone.

“That.” He snarled, his voice elated in a sick way, as though he had just found out the answer to some legendary riddle.

The hand that had been gripping your bicep now violently jerked you to the side, shoving you into his door. Before you had time to react, he crowded your personal space as his forearm pressed against the wood above your head, allowing you to smell the faint scent of his expensive cologne. “When did that happen?”

The initial fire that fueled his rage now transformed into a different kind of heat, a simmering and bitter envy that gnawed at his insides. He found himself grappling with conflicting emotions - on the one hand, he was somewhat happy that his blockhead of a brother managed to get a girlfriend, but on the other hand, it was you. The same girl that he had been pining over since you were first introduced to him all those years ago. The same girl that he thought was prettiest when she pouted at him with fat tears in her eyes and pleaded with him to be nicer to her. The same girl that consumed his thoughts 24/7. The same girl that he jerked his cock to at night after seeing how her fat tits in that all too small jersey bounced every time she cheered for his brother at that stupid game against Blue Lock. The same girl that, on all of those lonely nights overseas, he wished that, instead of fucking his fist, he was pummeling himself deep in your sopping wet cunt. The same girl that he was about to ruin before his brother got home from his whereabouts.

“Before Blue Lock . . .” Your voice was hushed, barely above a whisper, as though you were afraid of awakening a savage beast.

Three years. Three fucking years, and no one told him?! Not his mother, not his father, not Rin, not your stupid little social media (that he may or may not have been stalking) where you posted pictures of cats, candid photos of your friends, or whatever the fuck you got at your local coffee shop that day—not even you.

His once-obvious fury and visceral expression subsided, simmering beneath the surface in a contained inferno that burned with a ferocity few could fathom. Despite the turmoil raging inside him, he remained eerily calm, his stoic facade masking the storm within.

His demeanor exuded a cold, steely resolve that sent shivers down your spine and, quite frankly, took your breath away. There was an ominous sense of stillness in his presence, as if the air itself dared not disturb the calmness he projected.

“. . . Do you love him?” He spoke in hushed tones, each word enunciated with precision and purpose. There was no need for loud outbursts; the intensity of his calmness alone was enough to make you cower beneath him.

You were dumbfounded by his question, powerless to respond, and yet the longer you remained silent, the more you could see the cracks in his facade begin to scorch through his surface.

“D-Don’t be stupid, Sae. Of course I do, he’s my—”

You would never be able to finish your statement quick enough before his hands were on you, meaty palms digging into your hair, blunt nails scratching against your scalp as he grabbed a visceral hold onto your roots. The searing pain and astonishment coursing through your frame had you shrieking—in what? You didn’t know. Fear? Agony? Guilt?

Using his grip on you as a lead, he would tug you forcefully out of your slippers and down the hall to somewhere unknown. He ignored your screams as the weight atop your head forced your sight to the ground, your manicured nails digging into his wrist and clawing in an attempt to be freed.

“S-Sae, I-I’m sorry! Please, let me go! You’re hurting me!”

He said nothing, his heavy and deliberate footsteps speaking for him before he paused a short distance later. He threw you forward carelessly with surprising strength, causing you to land painfully on the wooden floors in front of you, barely having time to brace yourself with your palms. You had no time to catch your breath, though, as he shuffled over to you with fast-paced footsteps. Looking up fretfully, you would see Sae towering over you, taking notice that you were now on the floor of Rin’s room just before his bed.

“Sae—”

“Sae! Sae! Don’t be stupid; I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He openly mocked you, his lip curled into the faintest of sneers as he glowered down at you in hatred. Although even you could see that there was a bit of hurt behind his cruel teal eyes, “All you do is flap those pretty fuckin’ lips of yours, never knowin’ when to shut your stupid little trap.”

He relished in the way your bottom lip trembled and your eyes grew glassy, the same way they used to all those years ago.

“Still a little crybaby too, I see. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be sorry soon enough for leading me on all this time.” He grumbled, lunging for you again.

He snagged at your roots again, drawing a sob from your lips as he mercilessly dragged you to your feet. Releasing his grip on your hair, he instead chose to grab your jaw harshly in his palm, using his thumb and forefinger to squish your cheeks and pucker your lips so that he may smash his lips against your own. It was messy, sloppy, and full of passion and rage on Sae’s end. He smeared your gloss, claimed your brims, and forced his tongue into your pretty, pliant mouth, all with the intention of claiming you and your maw for his own—but you would never let him.

You belong to Rin! You were loyal to him! So then, why do Sae’s lips feel so damn good against your own right now? This was wrong. So, so wrong, and yet, why did you want more of him?

Your mind was cloudy. Your head was spinning. You couldn’t breathe. He was suffocating you. Your dainty fists beat at his beefy chest and shoulders, trying to get him to get off of you, but to no avail. Instead, he seized both of your wrists in the grasp of his other hand and squeezed painfully in a warning, forcing you to whine against his lips—a delightful sound that went straight to his hardening bulge that he shamelessly pressed against you, grinding sinfully against your hips.

When he finally pulled away from you, you clearly appeared dazed. Your eyes were half-lidded and glassy, yet you were silently pleading for him to give you more. Your plump lips had swollen from his being pressed so forcefully against your own, and a singular strand of saliva still connected your lips to his own—one which he would sinfully lick away with a salacious swipe of his tongue.

The hand he used to grab your face gently shook your head back and forth, his sadistic turquoise hues savoring your already fucked-out expression. “There’s the greedy bitch I know and love. Finally decided to show yourself, huh? What? You want more, hm? What about your little boyfriend, princess?”

“R-Rin . . . I love, Ri—” You were cut off when Sae’s expression flared, his hand releasing your face for naught but seconds before connecting with your cheek in a hard slap. You squealed from the impact, your head whipping to the side in shock, but you could not help but feel strangely aroused by the contact. He grabbed your cheeks in his palm once more and tightened his hold on your face, bringing you closer to him until you were nose to nose.

“Don’t lie to me, you little minx.” He snarled as he cut his eyes at you. “You don’t think I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at me after all these years, like you wanted me? Or that I haven’t overheard your stupid little conversations about how dreamy you think I am to your friends, huh? Or how about now, when you swear up and down that you love my loser little brother, when here you are already going stupid on me when I’ve barely even touched you?”

You clenched your eyes shut as hot, guilty tears rushed behind your lids. He’s right. You've wanted him—always have—but it was too late now. You were with Rin, and he was the love of your life. You could not possibly change that, could you?

“Just say it, Y/N.” He chided, his voice softer than it was before, yet it still held it’s cold, irritated undertone. “Say you want me, and I’ll make you feel better than that lukewarm little shit ever has.” He released your face and smoothed his thick digits over the top of your head, stopping only when he could rest his fingers beneath your chin and tilt your head to look up at him. Your gaze focused on him once more.

“ . . . I want you, Sae. B-But Rin . . . ”

Sae hushed you again, pressing his lips against yours. How badly he wanted that name to never again be uttered by your lovely tongue. When Sae pulled away again, there was the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“We’ll be quick, okay?” A lie. He was going to take his time fucking his brother’s name out of your memory. “He’ll never suspect a thing.”

Your apprehension was palpable, but ultimately you would succumb to sin and let desire and greed rule over logic and reason. You nodded, giving him the nonverbal go-ahead to stomp on the accelerator and never let up.

“Good girl.” He praised you, both hands abandoning your face to now grip at the collar of your shirt. In one swift motion, he ripped Rin’s jersey clean off of you from down the middle. “About time we got that shit off of you. The sight of it was makin’ me sick.” He spat as he tossed the tattered fabric over his shoulder.

You were not wearing a bra, so the violent motion had your breasts bouncing free after being momentarily released from their confines, allowing them to slap softly against the flesh of your rib cage—much to Sae’s viewing pleasure. You grew sheepish as he seemed to freeze, staring so brazenly at your bare breasts that you began to feel a bit self-conscious. Was something wrong? Did he not like them? Was he expecting more? Less?

In reality, the answer was none of the above. The midfielder swore under his breath as he shoved you back onto Rin's cozy comforter. He hastily climbed on top of you and used his body weight to pin you against the bed as his lustful hands began to grope and knead at your supple flesh, eliciting precious mewls with each delightful squeeze. His lips would latch onto one of your breasts as he dipped his head downward; the thumb and forefinger of his free hand would play with the other, teasing your nipples. His sharp teeth bit greedily over the delicate areola as his tongue flicked and laved over the hardening buds. The stimulation only served to heighten your arousal, as evidenced by the way you wailed his name like a sweet song meant only for his ears and how your thighs squeezed together from your excitement drooling from your folds.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Sae, who was busy alternating between pleasuring both of your breasts and growling under his breath, “Lewd fuckin’ body. S’all mine . . .” When he pulled away, there were visible marks left in his wake—light red splotches and indentations of hungry teeth imprinted on your skin.

He reached for the hem of his compression shirt and lifted it above his head, tossing it off to the side as he sat above you, staring lustfully down at you. He would manhandle you further after sliding off of your body. He pulled your shorts down in one motion, grabbed your thick thighs by the backs of your knees, and pushed them up towards your breasts. When he did, he couldn’t help but whistle, admiring how your puffy folds clung together and your inner thighs remained sticky from your translucent arousal.

“Has he ever made you wet like this?” Sae inquired, leering at you from between your thighs like a hungry lion with it’s eyes set predatorily on a helpless gazelle, to which your gaze would quickly avert. You and Rin had such a strong emotional bond that you never felt the need for frequent sex between you two. There were a few times, though, when Rin would fuck you after a winning game in a way that made you see stars, but those were always very far apart.

Your silence was all Sae needed for his answer. He crept back up onto you, chuckling sardonically as he held your thigh up with one hand, using his body to keep your other spread apart. He wanted to see all of your pretty expressions up close and personal when he ravished you. Swiping two of his fingers between your folds, the sudden motion caused your hips to jerk into his touch and you to keen with need.

Slowly, he inserted a single digit inside of you, hissing at how your walls selfishly gripped his fingers and eagerly tried to devour more of him. “Loosen up, will you, greedy slut?” He slapped your thigh with his other hand as your back arched with pleasure. “This tight pussy will never be able to take my cock at this rate.”

You tried to loosen up, you really did, but there was something so delicious—so tantilizing—about his thick, calloused fingers caressing your velvety walls that made you crave more of him. He continued to thrust his single digit inside of you, his teal oculars peering into your own with such intensity that it forced you to look away.

“Stop that.” His hand that grabbed the back of your knee slithered along your outer thigh until he could grasp your chin and force you to look back at him. “Eyes on me.” He ordered, to which you would nod dumbly amidst your pleasured mewls.

You felt the delightful stretch of another of his thick fingers pressing into your sopping cunt, thrusting in tandem with his previous one, as he leaned closer to you and his lips just barely touched your own.

“S-Sae, mmph, more, please, please, touch me more.” You begged, bringing a sinful smirk to the midfielder’s lips.

Unexpectedly, he would comply with your requests, pressing the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit and rubbing quick, pleasurable cricles with his fingers as he arduously sought out that sweet, sweet spot inside of you. You could not help but start sobbing his name, his thick fingers filling you to the brim even though he had yet to stuff his cock into you. Each time he curled upward inside of you, his impeccable skill had you gasping for reprieve.

It was nothing like Rin’s. His fingers were slightly thinner than his brother’s, but they were a tad longer too, able to reach the deepest spots within you without even trying. Sae's immense precision and experience, which allowed him to know exactly where your sweetest spots lay within you, made up for his lack of length.

“ . . . Are you seriously thinking about him right now?”

You were startled out of your reverie by his curious tone and thinly veiled anger. You tried to focus on his hardened features through your daze, but you couldn’t. The knot in your tummy tightened, and you felt an enormous wave of pleasure wash over you. Something big was coming, and you could feel it reverberating all throughout your core.

“He could never make you feel this good, could he? Never get this pretty cunt this wet for him, hm?” All throughout his monologue, you could hear the sinful squelching of your juices soaking his palm, dripping down his wrist, and splattering onto the floor. You were a mess beneath him. He would abuse that rough patch just along your upper walls until your toes clung to the sheets in ecstasy.

“M’sorry, m’sorry!” You mewled, breath coming out in short, high-pitched pants as you writhed under him, his pace increasing as he felt your walls fluttering around his fingers.

“Who’s making a mess of you right now? Huh? Speak up, princess; let me hear you say it.”

“—You, Sae! You, you, you! Hah, please, I-I can’t . . . ! I-I’m gonna—”

“Do it. Cum on my fuckin’ fingers. Make a mess for me, pretty.”

You did just that. Your body went rigid for naught but a second before your back was arched into him, and your head tossed itself back into the pillows as a chorus of unabashed wails of your release erupted from your pretty, drooling lips. Your release was immense—loud—as a gushing of juices from your pussy thoroughly drenched the sheets, Sae’s sweatpants, his abs, and his entire forearm.

You squirted. For him. For the first time ever.

It was uncharacteristic how an almost feral grin twisted on Sae’s lips, his fingers removing from your sopping cunt to place a few well-directed slaps on your far too sensitive and overstimulated pussy.

“Atta’ fuckin’ girl. Can’t believe my baby brother was keeping such a sweet little succubus all to himself—selfish bastard.”

You couldn’t even hear him; your chest was rising and falling heavily as tears of pleasure ran down your cheeks (and thighs).

“Hey, hey. You still with me?” His tone was soft, his typically impassive visage now meeting your own with furrowed eyebrows and a tinge of concern behind his bright hues.

You nodded—it was all you could muster at this moment, but it was good enough for Sae. He brought his soaking hand to your parted lips, lightly tapping the digits on your plump flesh in a silent command for you to clean him off. He chuckled. Your lithe tongue and eager brims slurped, licked, and sucked your mess off of his thick fingers that were now shoved down your throat without you even needing to be told what to do.

“You wanna do that again for me? On my cock this time, pretty?”

You were exhausted, your body already aching beneath him, but you still craved more from him. Another meek nod was given, your dazed eyes meeting his only to utter around his fingers, words garbled from his fingers on your tongue, “Wantha’ squirth’ awound ya cahwk.”

That was all Sae needed to hear as he stepped off of the bed, making quick work to discard his soaked sweatpants and boxers into the growing pile of clothes at the base of the bed. His large hands grabbed your soft hips, tugging you toward him with ease as he flipped you onto your hands and knees. He let out a growl, his hand raising to smack your plump ass once, then twice, on both of your cheeks before taking big, greedy handfuls of your flesh into his ravenous palms. This was undoubtedly already his favorite thing about you.

Standing by the edge of the bed, Sae placed your body horizontally across the mattress with your head facing the door. With a forceful push of your face down into the sheets, your view of the room instantly became obscured. You craned your neck back, peering at Sae from over the arch of your back as he grabbed one of your fat cheeks in one hand and used his other to line his cock up with your entrance. He slapped his heavy cock against your folds, his blossoming mushroom tip connecting with your throbbing clit making you both keen with ecstasy.

He couldn’t wait any more. He needed to be inside of you. He entered your drooling cunt with a single, calculated push, and your fluttering walls were already trying to devour more of him in response to the intrusion. Sae groaned as his hips met the flesh of your ass once he was buried to the hilt inside of you. His head lulled back as he dug his blunt nails into your flesh.

For the past three years, this—this right here is exactly what he had been craving, yearning over, and lusting for—and now he had it. He nearly came from the feeling inside of you alone, though; he’d be damned if he let the fun stop there.

A steady pace was quickly established by the midfielder's hips, and his long, deliberate strokes were deep enough to feel in your tummy and cause your toes to curl up in pleasure. Having had such a powerful orgasm not even minutes earlier, you were still fairly sensitive; however, that only made things all the more enjoyable.

“O-Oh my god, y-your cock, it’s t-too much, I-I can’t—”

“Don’t tell me you can’t, you cock-loving slut.” He snapped at you, cutting your pleas short with a sharp thrust of his hips. The rhythmic plapping of your ass against his pelvis resonated off the walls of the bedroom, lewdly ringing in your own ears. “This is everything I—we’ve—been wanting for years. Don’t tell me that now, all of a sudden—” He paused, groaning deeply through gritted teeth as you clenched around him. “—That this pretty pussy can’t take anymore when you’re gripping me so desperately.”

“B-But Sae, i-it feels too good! Like I’m . . . I’m gonna make a mess again!” You whined.

He thought it was adorable that even in the most deplorable and deprived of acts, you still attempted to hold some semblance of modesty. Oh, how you were both far past that.

If anything, that just fueled his aggression. He used your words as justification to pummel your poor pussy harder and faster, putting both of his hands on your hips and lower back and pressing his weight against you to force you into an almost painful arch as his pelvis slammed into your ass. Your vision went blurry from his unforgiving pace, and your throat went raw from your cries and screams of pleasure.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” He grunted in between thrusts, a hand raising to land a furious smack on your ass that caused you to mewl and your tiny fists to grip the sheets.

“Y-You, Sae! You are! Ngh, plea—”

“And who’s cock do you like better, huh, princess? Me or that lukewarm fuckface’s?”

You hesitated, but only for a millisecond, as you felt the blunt head of his cock caressing your sweet spot, pummeling into you over and over as your thighs began to shake, growing unable to hold yourself up from the stimulation. His thrusts faltered as his cock twitched inside of you. You figured he was close too.

“Yours, y-yours! Your cock feels so good, I-I’m gonna cum again! I’m ngh gonna cum all over your f-fuck-ing cock!”

He let out an almost animalistic groan, something between a chuckle and a feral snarl, “Yeah, princess? You really mean it?” He moved one of his hands to your hair, threading his fingers through it without yet pulling, almost as if he were waiting for your response.

Your response was almost instantaneous, and the adorable chorus of incoherent babbles and cries of "yes, yes, yes" left your head spinning. You had the sensation that you might pass out completely.

Your head was abruptly yanked out of the pillows, and your gaze was once again forced upward. Your eyes, albeit blurry and glassy, caught sight of the all-too-familiar figure standing in the doorway. Sweat dribbling from his forehead while dressed in a white windbreaker and sweatpants to protect himself from the elements during his jog, stood the one person who filled you with dread.

Rin.

He was back.

As your eyes locked onto the all-too-memorable teal ones boring into your own, your moans ceased. The logic and reason that you had previously dismissed for giving into your desires came flooding back. Guilt, which had been gnawing at the pit of your stomach, reared it’s ugly head once more.

He caught you.

With his brother.

The realization of your actions, the feeling of knowing that you hurt someone you cared deeply about and promised your life to, left you reeling. The enormity of the situation left you speechless and unable to respond.

As the shock slowly gave way to the depths of your despair, tears welled up in your eyes, this time of anguish. Your ability to control your emotions ran out, and you began to sob, letting the tears run down your cheeks. Each tear that ran free was weighed down by guilt and regret.

All the while, Sae never stopped thrusting behind you. Almost as if he remained unfazed by his brother’s—your boyfriend’s—sudden appearance.

“R-Rin—”

“—Save it.”

His initial shock, disbelief, and hurt gradually gave way to something else. He was angry, searing with anger as malice began to rise within him, a blaze of fury that threatened to consume him. Though he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at . . . Sae?

“You told me you would wait until I got back, Nii-chan.”

The air left your lungs.

. . . What?

Using the grip from your hair, Sae pulled you back into him, pressing your body flush against his own as he craned your neck back into an awkward angle, forcing your gaze to meet his own. A dark and unsettling satisfaction crept into his expression, the corner of his lips tugging into a smirk. His eyes sparkled with a perverse delight, reveling in the twisted pleasure he derived from your adorably bewildered and anguished expression.

Your breath hitched.

Your mind raced for answers.

Sae’s gaze lazily tore from your own and to Rin's, who still remained in the doorway, the forward’s eyes sinfully burning into the way your breasts bounced sinfully from each of Sae’s now slow, agonizing thrusts.

"You know, little brother, it is not too late to join in on the fun."

ⓒ vampiie 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

if this gets enough attention, i may make a part two!

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | now you got me

ix. now you got me by inhaler

series masterlist | previous | next

the happy little bubble you and luke made for yourselves inevitably bursted a few days after you made it official– though if you asked luke, you rejected his advances, which always earned an eye roll from you followed by a long kiss to his lips that had him silent for the next five minutes. you knew he was milking the hell out of you saying no to his question until he let you listen to the song, but you were his and he was yours regardless of the title. 

you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing as you ran your fingers down the marks on your neck. you added a turtleneck under your chb shirt, not having enough energy to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup, and you definitely didn’t have the energy to explain to people how you got them. thankfully, the weather cooperated with you today. it was unusually cold for the summer, a slight breeze entering your room from your opened window. as you continued to get ready for the day, your phone buzzed with a text from your dad. 

‘hey kid, can you come to my office real quick?’

you hadn’t spoken to your dad in weeks, not since he stormed out of the cabin after finding out what started the fight with your teammate. this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him. you texted a thumbs up and made your way out of your room. 

luke was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of everyone, looking at you with wondering eyes, “where are you going?” 

“my dad wants to talk.” 

“do you want me to come with you?” luke got up from where he sat. you told him last night that you’d been avoiding your dad as much as possible, and he did the same with you. as much as you guys butted heads, luke knew that it was taking a toll on you. you shared that you were scared about what would become of your relationship with your dad. luke, being as close to his mom as you were with your dad, understood. he knew what it was like to feel like your biggest supporter was giving up on you. it wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemy, and definitely not a feeling he’d ever wish on you. 

“no, it’s fine,” you clenched your jaw, shaking your head. 

luke’s shoulders slumped over as he stuttered in his actions to sit back down, “oh, okay–uh, let me know if you need anything.” 

you nodded and waved a small goodbye before exiting the cabin. your heart was pounding the entire time you made your way to your dad’s office. a lot of things had been weighing on you this summer– your probation, a possible dent on your record, your estrangement from your parents, luke– and it was a lot to handle. camp half blood was supposed to keep you away from the problems that existed in your day-to-day life, but it seemed to follow you. 

you entered your dad’s office to see him typing away on his laptop. his eyebrows raised when you walked in, motioning for you to shut the door. he closed his laptop and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. he took a deep breath, “hey, kid.” 

“hi, dad,” you replied, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. you sat on the usual chair in front of his desk and leaned back, “what’s up?” 

“i, uh,” he cleared his throat, “i just wanted to say i’m sorry for how we left things. i shouldn’t have stormed out like that. i was just angry. but not at you, at myself for making you feel like you had to fight these battles for me.” 

he leaned across his desk to hold your hands, “you’re my kid, y’know. my job is to protect you, not the other way around. so i apologize if i ever made you feel like you had to come to my defense.” 

“and i’m sorry for being mia the last few weeks,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands, “i’ve been in contact with my lawyers and they’re working on making sure the charges against you don’t stick so i’ve been pretty busy with that.” 

“you think it’ll get sorted out?” you asked. 

“yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s finishing up and i think you might even be able to play this season,” your dad smiled. “but i have to deal with a pr crisis right now that sprung up on me this morning.” 

your shoulders relaxed at your dad’s words. at least your probation was getting sorted out. that was one less thing to worry about. you tugged on the sleeves of your turtleneck as you got comfortable on your chair, “what’s the pr crisis?” 

he sighed, pulling out his laptop, “something with the band.” 

you hoped your dad didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes. because you hadn’t been talking to your dad, he didn’t know about the recent developments between you and luke. you two didn’t show much pda outside of the cabin, scared that one of the campers would break their nda and post a picture of the two of you. neither of you were ready to tell the world about you two yet. it’s too soon. you didn’t even have the “what’s going to happen to us after summer?” conversation yet. 

“what happened?” 

“some pap pictures leaked. it’s of this new actress in hollywood and a guy leaving her hotel room. the press is reporting that the guy is luke. it looks a lot like him and you know the media– they run any story that’ll get them clicks even if it’s not fully fact-checked as long as they add the word ‘allegedly’ to the article,” he rolled his eyes, turning his computer to face you. “nobody knows where the pictures came from, so we don’t know if it’s actually luke or not, but i’ve been on the phone with may and their team all morning trying to do damage control. she’s telling the guys about the pictures right now.” 

at first glance, your heart dropped to your stomach. the guy did look an awful lot like luke. the rational part of you knew that this was probably taken before the two of you met because you’ve seen him every day since and he was practically imprisoned at chb all summer, but then you thought of your impromptu trip to achilles’ arcade and it made you want to throw up. if luke could sneak away with you like that, it would’ve been easy for him to do the same when he was alone. 

were the nights he didn’t spend in your bed because he was “writing” just an excuse to sneak off to meet up with the girl in the picture? she was gorgeous, after all. blonde, tall, the perfect new hollywood star. they’d make such a great power couple. the two rising stars in their respective industries, the perfect pair. 

the boy’s face, who may or may not be luke, was covered by his hood, but you can clearly see that he was kissing the girl deeply, with his hand placed on the curve of her back. the next picture was them with their fingers laced together as she led him into the hotel, giggling at something he said. the guy had a similar build as luke and dressed the same way as he did when he was having a lazy day– sweatpants, hoodie, and converses. 

bile made its way up your throat as you continued to scroll through the pictures. you looked at the time stamp of the photos and closed your eyes, wincing, when you saw that they were taken two days ago. luke didn’t sleep in your room two days ago, nor was he in the cabin. he showed up the next day saying that he was in the studio, trying to finish up the song so you would officially accept being his girlfriend. 

you squinted at a close-up picture of the pair, zoning in on the guy's hand. you breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers immediately clutching the ring that rested on your index finger. you turned the laptop back to your dad, “that’s not luke.” 

his eyebrows shot up, looking between you and his laptop screen, “how do you know?” 

“look at his rings,” you pointed at the bands around the guy’s fingers, “luke doesn’t wear a ring on his ring finger anymore. and look, the guy has a ring there and it’s gold.” 

“how are you so sure? what if he just decided to wear it that day?” 

“trust me,” you waved off, “he’s particular about his jewelry. he stopped wearing one on his ring finger a while ago. and luke doesn’t wear gold jewelry.” 

your dad narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, shutting his laptop, “i didn’t realize you were that close to luke that you had his accessories memorized.” 

“ah– well,” you cleared your throat, looking down at your feet. you felt caught. “s’your fault, really. you made us live together.” 

“is there something you need to tell me, kid?” 

you got up from your seat, quickly making your way to the door, “geez, dad, i didn’t realize the time! i promised clar that i’d help her with camp duties, so i gotta go. thanks for all your help on the probation and permanent record thing. you’re the best!” 

you didn’t bother to turn around to see your dad’s reaction to your excuse. you knew that he could see right through you. 

you dad called from behind you, his joking tone camouflaged by his “dad” voice, “tell castellan that if he does anything wrong, i’ll kill him and his career!” 

“love you!” 

your dad shook his head, biting back the smile on his face, “love you too, kid.” 

as you were rushing back to your cabin, you ran smack dab into luke who was frantic, worry evident on his features. his eyes widened when he saw you and he placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you so you didn’t fall at the impact. 

“five star,” he sighed out, out of breath, “i don’t know if mr. d told you but those pictures aren’t me, i swear!” 

you had two options– you could one, tell him that you knew it wasn’t him and put him out of his misery or two, you could pretend to not believe him and make him sweat. luke looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg you to believe him. you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a powerpoint presentation listing the reasons why it wasn’t him in those pictures. 

you pursed your lips, “i saw the pictures luke.” 

“and they weren’t me!” he said, exasperated. his eyebrows knitted in anxiety, as he chewed on the nail of his thumb, “you gotta believe me, babe. i don’t know who that guy is but i can promise you it’s not me.” 

you tried not to swoon at the pet name that left his lips. “how do i know that? you weren’t home the night those pictures were taken.” 

“i know it looks bad, but look,” he ran a hand through his curls. “i finished the song the boys wrote and you can go listen to it right now, but then that night, i got caught up with a song idea about you and i stayed up all night to write it. you can listen to the demo right now if you want. you can listen to all the demos you want if that gets you to believe me. i think the recordings have timestamps too, so you’ll see i was in there all nigh–”

“down, pretty boy,” you couldn’t keep it up any longer. luke looked like he was two seconds away from bursting into tears and as much as you wanted to hear him yap, you didn’t have it in your heart to drag it on. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly relaxed at the feeling. 

your lips moved in sync as his hands found your waist, pressing you closer to him. his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted. it was the sound of clarisse and chris inside the cabin, tapping against the windows that pulled you and luke apart. you both turned to look at your friends who all had shit-eating grins on their faces. 

travis and connor were behind the couple, shaking their heads, “get a fucking room, you heathens.” 

luke flipped them off and pressed a softer, more innocent kiss on your lips before you spoke. “i knew it wasn’t you. just wanted to see you sweat a little bit.” 

“that was mean,” he pouted, but he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. he always seemed to smile after he kissed you. it made you want to kiss him again, starting a never-ending chain of kisses that would surely lead the two of you to be unproductive for the rest of the day. “i was so scared, five star, you have no idea. the fucker looked so much like me.” 

you laughed, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, “trust me, i know. my heart dropped to my ass when i first saw them, but i knew it wasn’t you.” 

“how’d you know?” 

“the rings,” you flushed, thinking about how crazy you must sound knowing these small details about him.

“shit, five star,” he whistled, surprised. there was a warmth in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body at the idea of you paying attention to these things about him. “nothing can get past you, huh? i didn’t even notice that.”

“yeah, at least you know not to sneak around behind me because i’ll find out,” you teased, lacing your fingers together as you slowly made your way up the steps of the cabin. luke stood in his spot, pulling on your hand to get you to to turn around. you walked over to him, confused, “what’s up?” 

“y’know i wouldn’t think of doing that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly serious. “i would never do that to you.” 

your eyes softened as a wistful look appeared on your face. you kissed his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of luke wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight hug. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, placing a feather-light kiss on his jugular, “yeah, yeah.” 

“‘m serious,” he pulled away, holding your face in his hands. he was staring at you intently, making sure that you were hearing his words. you never gave him an indication that you didn’t trust him, but luke knew that it was better to tell you these things straight up if he wanted to have a real relationship with you. he knew it takes a toll on the people he dates (not that he’s had any relationships like what he has with you) to see these bullshit stories online. if he was in your position, he knew the reassurance would help. luke placed a kiss on your forehead, “i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up if i can help it, five star.”

you let out a forced laugh, awkwardly shifting in his grasp, “yeah, given that my dad controls your contract, i know you wouldn’t.” 

luke frowned, “not because of that.” 

“uh huh,” you said, feeling too vulnerable right now. you didn’t know how to handle this situation, so you coped with humor, “he likes you so don’t worry, your contract extension is practically in the bag.” 

“y/n.” 

you tensed at luke’s use of your real name. he never called you by your name. he always called you by the nickname he gave you when he first met you. five star. you knew luke wasn’t in the mood to joke around. “luke, it’s fine.” 

“i don’t want to pick a fight,” he sighed, playing with the hem of your shirt, “but i just need to hear you say that you believe me when i say that. i wouldn’t cheat on you or do anything to make you feel like i ever would.” 

your voice shook as you spoke, “what if you’re just saying that because it’s still summer and we see each other every day? what’s gonna happen when i’m back in school and you’re out in the world traveling and living your rockstar life?” 

luke’s heart broke at your words. did you really think that he would forget about all of this once september rolled around? as if you didn’t consume his thoughts every day since he met you, as if he didn’t count down the minutes until he got to see you again when he was forced to be away from you because he had things to do, as if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his stomach when you weren’t next to him. he was starting to think you didn’t understand just how deeply he felt about you even when you assured him that you did understand. 

“i’m not gonna lie, long distance is gonna be hard,” he said, “but we can figure it out. i know it.” 

“i never knew you were such an optimist, castellan.” 

luke laughed at that. if only you knew how many times he psyched himself out of making a move on you because of his own pessimism. it only changed recently, when he finally decided to say fuck it and go for it. “for you? always. i’d be stupid not to be. you’re a good thing, five star.” 

luke fucking castellan. you pressed your head into his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your face. he gave you a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. he loved having you like this, all soft and cuddly with him like you didn’t want to let him go. he should be scared at how quickly he was falling for you, how attached he already felt. 

you kissed his lips again, pulling away with a smile, “so babe huh?” 

“babe, baby, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss you again. “anythin’ you want.”

[demonpiratehuntress]

I adored ‘love me again’!!! So I will honor your request for more OPLA!Sanji prompts 😁

How about OPLA Sanji and celebrating the victory over Arlong?

i'm glad you liked it! and thank you for the ask! :D

taglist - @kabloswrld

a much-needed break

OPLA!Sanji x F!Reader

summary - the crew beats Arlong and his crew, and you're happy to take some time off to celebrate, especially with a certain cook.

warnings - none

a/n - poor guy, when Nami ran past him to hug Usopp and Zoro, i wanted to give him a hug :(

"Wait, where's (Name)?"

At the call of your name, your head popped up from behind a rock. Exhausted and sore, you rose to your feet and approached your worried crewmates.

"Here."

Sanji was about to say something, starting to walk over, when Nami came running towards you guys. The cook opened his arms with a big smile, but the orange-haired navigator ran right past him to hug you, Zoro and Usopp. You caught the way his face fell, and when Nami pulled away you went over to wrap your arms around his neck.

He instantly cheered up, offering you a charming smile, "Hi."

"Hi," you smiled back.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, just smiling at each other with your arms around his neck and his hands on your waist. Your moment was only interrupted by the sound of a building crumbling, and you all turned and watched in horror as Arlong's stronghold collapsed, with Luffy still inside.

For a scary few seconds there was no sign of life, Then, miraculously, Luffy emerged from the wreckage and grinned down at you all.

"Nami!" He called out. "You are our friend! We are your crew!"

You turned to look at the navigator, who was covering her mouth with tears in her eyes. You put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she offered you a grateful smile.

-

Celebrations kicked in not long after, with the people of Coco Village overjoyed to be free from the menacing chokehold of Arlong. The crew stayed to celebrate, and to allow Nami to reconnect with her estranged sister.

You were sitting with Usopp and giggling at the exaggerated tale he was telling you of his defeat of Choo - the big-lipped fishman.

"And then he got all scared when he got a taste of my exploding stars, and started begging for mercy-"

"Was this before or after you played dead to trick him?" You asked, amused.

"Uhhhh, before...?"

You just laughed some more, before your attention turned to where Sanji was dishing out food he made for the joyous event. Zoro was approaching him, and you nudged Usopp and pointed in their direction. The two of you usually had a field day making fun of the toxic masculinity both men exhibited, and today was no exception.

As the two exchanged words neither of you could hear, you both watched in disappointment as Sanji just laughed at the swordsman before he walked away.

"That was anti-climactic."

"So disappointing," you agreed.

"You two wouldn't happen to be talking about me and the swordsman, would you?" A cheeky voice asked from behind you.

At once, the sharpshooter was up and gone, stammering out some excuse of needing to entertain the kids of Coco Village with his exciting stories of adventures that never really happened.

"Usopp!" You protested, sighing as the cook laughed and took Usopp's place next to you. "That traitor."

You felt the familiar feeling of butterflies blooming in your stomach crept up on you, and you tried your hardest not to let the closeness of his body to yours elicit a flustered reaction from you. You didn't want him to know just how much his presence affected you.

"Does my arguing with the oafish swordsman amuse you often?" He asked you, sounding amused himself.

"And if I say it does?" You finally met his gaze, teasing him.

"Then I'll be happy something good comes out of having to interact with him," the cook answered, pairing his words with something between a satisfied smirk and a charming smile.

That response and his smile earned a deep blush from you, "Oh yeah? What a romantic."

"That's what I've been saying!" He agreed. "I can be very romantic. If only someone would give me a chance to prove that." He smiled innocently, but the insinuation burned your cheeks more.

"And who's that someone?" You played innocent. "They sound very mean." And that's where you got him, because everyone knew he would rather die than badmouth you or Nami.

"I-well-"

"I thought so," you laughed, enjoying the flustered look on his face. "But maybe today's your lucky day. You should ask again."

His eyes lit up when you said that, and stood up eagerly, holding a hand out to you, "Then may I have this dance?"

"Dance?" You looked around, "But no one else is dancing!"

"Yes they are," he pointed to where a bunch of kids were holding hands and dancing in a circle together.

"Those are kids!" You laughed, "You want me to dance like that?"

"It'll be fun! We all needed this break anyway."

"Who's 'we'? You joined five minutes ago!" You teased.

He playfully rolled his eyes, and grabbed your hands to pull you up, "Come on, smart mouth. For that comment, you have to dance with me like those kids."

You just shook your head with a smile, letting him drag you towards an open space. As he linked both your hands with his and began to spin you and sway you every which way, you couldn't help but laugh as your body melted into the moment, syncing with his every move.

"See? Is this so bad?" Sanji asked, smiling so wide that the top of his head might as well have fallen off.

"Okay this is really fun actually," you admitted, then buried your face in his neck. "But people are staring."

His heart skipped a beat when you held him like this, and he had to take a moment to calm his racing heart before he responded, "If they're staring at anything, it's you, sweetheart. Not the dancing."

Your cheeks burned again, the butterflies from earlier returning, "You don't know that."

"Actually I think I would know better than anyone, since I find myself staring at you more often than not," he admitted unabashedly, with a proud smile.

"You do?" You pulled back slightly to look up at him, cheeks red.

"You already know this," he chuckled.

"Maybe I like hearing it," you replied, voice a little softer.

"Well then I'll remind you as many times as you like."

The look of adoration he was giving you coupled with his sweet and gentle tone lured you in until your lips were almost touching. With one nod of consent from you, they met in an explosion of bliss.

Sanji could have kissed you forever, and it was not an exaggeration. It felt so good to finally have your lips on his, he wished he didn't have to pull away. Alas, you both did have to breathe at some point.

"Seems like it was my lucky day," he grinned at you, planting soft little kiss on your forehead. He encased you in his arms, and just held you.

You laughed and relaxed into his grip, just as happy to stay like this as he was. The two of you swayed a bit for a few more moments before retreating back to your seats, finding a smirking Nami taking Berry from a defeated Usopp.

"Did you guys seriously bet on us?" You asked, laughing as you took a seat next to the navigator.

"Only because I knew I'd win," was her reply, smug as she pocketed the money.

You rolled your eyes with an amused smile on your face. Beside you, Sanji just laughed and laid an arm across your shoulders. You let her have the small victory, because today was about her finally conquering the fishman that had held her village captive for so long.

For the rest of the evening, you were content to just sit with the cook and watch everyone celebrate.

That is, of course, until Luffy's grandfather decided to intervene.

[777gojosgf]

THE SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED

777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…

777gojosgf: reader x ex!satorugojo

IN WHERE :: satoru gojo is indeed the smallest man who ever lived who has fucked it up with you beyond repair.

a/n: this hurts ANGST very ooc!satoru but i just wanted to write something like this for a while. and umm welcome back to me i guess…

ONE THING ABOUT YOU is that you didn’t like to give a show. no, instead you were always thinking about others and how they would feel if you were to say something. additionally you hated confrontation and especially those joined by others. it just wasn’t your style and added upon the anxiety you already felt on the daily basis due to the rocky situation you had with satoru.

you hadn’t asked him where he had been for the past week because you didn’t want to know. even though deep inside you knew that you knew enough.

there was no denying that he cheated on you with your best friend.

and perhaps that should have hurt you the most, the fact that he threw away a four year relationship just because he gave in to his desire. but it was the disrespect that hurt you the most. where did he get the nerve to treat you like that? you hadn’t done anything but love him truly for who he was and the smile he brought upon your face every single day. but you were afraid that those days had officially come to an end.

sometimes good things don’t last.

ever since shoko told you the news, you weren’t sure how to go about it. if you would wait until the both of you were back in the apartment you shared. where the memories and promises you had created with each other haunted the very same hallway where you broke down after seeing the photos of him and your best friend.

good riddance.

you whispered to yourself. good riddance.

but why was it so hard to believe?

and so, you hadn’t realized where your feet had brought you until you had found yourself on the grounds of jujutsu high. the anger that resumed inside of you made it seem as if there was a curse of a special grade roaming the area and the students knew better than to ask how you were doing. in fact, you looked terrifying.

your vision turned red and the only thing you could focus on was the terrible heartache that screamed for vengeance and an explanation.

for so far he was able to give you one.

the sound of the main door slamming in the teacher’s lounge echoed through the entire building, but unluckily for him his friends were there too.

but you didn’t care. not anymore.

because you have cared, you have been caring for years and apparently it didn’t mean shit.

the white haired male leaned against the wall as he watched you walk up to him, and some would say that he begged the gods above that he would make it out alive.

“baby—“ he started, reaching out to touch you like he always used to do but when you stood still in your tracks and flinched away from him…

he knew.

“am i a joke to you?” your question that desperately demanded an answer only made the entire room go quieter than it was before. the tension wavered through the air and he didn’t know what to say. perhaps because he didn’t expect you to ask him that out of all the things you could have.

why did you cheat? did you cheat?

but instead of that, you asked him if you were a joke to him.

“what do you mean? maybe we shouldn’t do this here—“ he once again miserably failed at trying to start his explanation because you took a step forward and all the words evaporated from his mouth while his vocal chords estranged. he didn’t dare to say a word.

“are you fucking kidding me, satoru? are you embarrassed that everyone is watching? because you didn’t care that you would embarrass me after fucking my friend, did you?”

you felt tears prickling in your eyes but not because you were sad. no, those tears had spilled in your apartment. instead, these were tears made out of pure anger. formed deep inside from the quiet resentment of him that you had tried to ignore and endure for days.

your hands trembled, “did you think i wouldn’t find out? do you believe i’m an idiot, is that all that i am to you? a pushover, a people pleaser?”

he didn’t say anything. there were tears streaming down his face as he knew that he had lost the one thing that mattered to him. four years of someone who loved him for who he was, and not for who he had to be.

someone who would have died for his sins.

and he threw it all away.

he knew that he couldn’t say anything that would change this and the way you felt, instead he was afraid that he would only ruin it. so he decided to take it.

“answer me.”

that made him snap out of his trance and he shake his head, stepping forward and meeting your eyes that were so full of fury he started to wonder if you weren’t a stranger.

“i fucked up, okay? i know that i did, and i cannot change anything that i did. and i know that it wasn’t right.” satoru muttered defeated.

but the only thing he heard was your laugh. it wasn’t a laugh he recognized. and it certainly wasn’t the one you let out the times before the two of you would go to bed but not before he made you laugh.

and at that same exact moment the two of you wondered the same thing.

do i know you at all?

but only one had the right to ask that question, of course.

“is that all you have to say for yourself? you can’t even apologize? because i have tried to figure out why you did what you did and if it was my fucking fault, satoru. after everything, i wondered if it was my fault. and i cannot believe-“ a sob made its way through your words and it was hard to keep the tears in now, but you had to. “i can’t believe this.”

“and i cannot grasp why you would. you deserve fucking prison for the way you have treated me these past weeks, making me wonder if i was the problem as to why you would ignore me in our apartment. ours! and i so desperately hate you for it.”

he leaned to touch your cheek, his hand rising and caressing it softly and you hated it that you let him.

“y/n, please. i can’t lose you. i am so sorry for what i did, but i can live with you hating me. i just can’t live without you.” his words embedded your skin and trailed up to your brain, almost planting it seeds and giving into his words,

but you had grown and knew better.

“maybe you should have decided that before you decided to throw this all away. i’m sure you have had a good laugh too considering the way you kicked the fucking stage lights. but you’re still performing, aren’t you? i would have given up my life for you every time. any fucking time. and while i was making promises and thinking about what the future upholds for us, you were busy giving into your desires.” your breathing had surprisingly calmed and the rational version of you had finally asserted itself into your veins as you wiped away the tears from your face and took three steps back.

“tell me. was it all worth it? was she good?”

what?

satoru couldn’t decide whether you actually asked him that or if his imagination was having its own little fun with him. but no, you truly asked him.

“baby don’t say stuff like that you know—“

“if you ever call me that again i will spoon the fucking six eyes out of you. now, tell me.”

fortunately the white haired male was wiser than to answer that question so he remained silent. his tears made its work onto his shirt and the crystal blue eyes that you had longed for since you laid eyes upon them, were now vibrant red.

you knew that he was feeling the same heartache like you were. the only difference however was that you were glad that he was.

“fine.“

and with that, you turned around to walk away.

but not before you stopped, turned around and threw the one thing that had mattered.

he caught the engagement ring mid-air that was a gojo family heirloom.

satoru swore that he loved you but the clues weren’t to be found.

perhaps you died dead at the altar.

“i’m leaving tonight.” you announced but it fell upon deaf ears and you let out a sigh before making your way back to the shared apartment leaving satoru behind at jujutsu high.

literally and figuratively.

after moving out the same exact day, having only taken a few personal belongings, you immediately booked the first flight out of tokyo.

that was the last time you ever saw him again.

©777gojosgf

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

can we have more disowned!Jason pls??

Bruce was thankful for the drive. It gave him time to think. Mostly of things to say.

He'd sent a new washer and dryer, only to have them politely but firmly refused. Not by Jason, which he expected, but by you. You explained that it was appreciated but not necessary. And then before hanging up the phone, suggested that he donate the money to a support group for estranged parents. Electronics for the kids were similarly received- albeit less politely by Jason. Jason outright sent them back in pieces.

It was a risk, and he knew that. But by the time he pulled into town and was driving down tree-lined streets he was resolved. He had grandchildren now. He had a son who was happy. A Daughter in law... It was- well. Not a 'normal' family but, why did that matter?

There was a new baby on the way. Surely you had to need something to make it easier? College funds? Was the house paid for? He went through the options over and over. Considering the things he knew from the court documents. How you'd come to have your niece and nephew in your custody. The long sad story that got there.

You were steadfast and compassionate- that he knew. And proud. An offer that felt like charity would be rejected. Because you were doing it- or had been doing it on your own. Caring for your grandmother and then your mother. Fighting with the courts. Running a business. And raising two kids. You didn't want charity.

He pulled up on the curb and checked his watch, frowning. Both cars were still in the drive. Which was odd. Dick had told him you usually took the kids to school and opened the store.

He walked up the front steps and rang the bell. Greeted by the cacophony of dogs barking and Jason grumbling as he lumbered to the door.

Jason rolled his eyes when he saw Bruce at the door. "Not now-"

"I come in peace," Bruce said holding up his hands.

"Now's not a good time," Jason said, picking up the Yorkie before she could bolt out the door.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, heart dropping. Jason looked tense. Stressed. Upset. "Are the kids-"

"There was a break in at the hardware. Y/N was working late doing the books. Local scumbags busted in looking for tools they could sell. And copper. They didn't know she was there, so when she walked out to see what was happening, they panicked. Busted her in the face a couple times and someone kicked her stomach." Jason exhaled slowly. "Boris got to them and scared them off when he heard her struggling. And then. Fuck. As if it wasn't bad enough, his fucking heart just gave out and her dog died."

"Jason-"

"Now is really not a good time," Jason repeated, swallowing hard.

And all Bruce can do is hug him. Hard. Jason never did do well when women were in danger. When they were attacked like that. And now it was one of HIS women. His wife. The mother of his children. And she hadn't been able to call him for help. "Is... everything okay?" he asked, releasing him when Jason started to pull away.

"They kept her in the hospital for a couple days and they want to keep her on bed rest for a while. They were worried about her back and her ribs. And the stress of it all. But- mostly she just... she's worried about the baby. She's worried about the kids. And she misses Borris."

"A good boy-"

"Her best friend," Jason said, smiling a little. "And then he had to go and prove he really did love her more than me... grumpy old fucker."

"I know it's not a good time," Bruce said, not wanting to add more stress to his son. Or risk upsetting you and making it worse for you. "But if you need anything-"

"Just make sure those scumbags stay in jail," Jason said. "Because if I get my hands on them, I'll break their fucking necks."

"At least you aren't going to shoot-"

"Y/N makes me store my guns and my ammo in two separate places," he sighed. "And she moved it after Ty found it- now I don't know where it is."

[yuzurins]

# i’m smitten with the thought of you

itoshi rin x gn!reader. sae and rin don’t have an estranged relationship. childhood friends to (eventual) lovers. crack don’t take this too srsly pls

“rin, say ahh!” you hold out a spoonful of cake in front of his face.

“shut the fuck up.” rin pouts, turning his head away from you.

you snicker, but your hand doesn’t falter. “come on! you know you want it~” you tease, dragging the end of the sentence as if you were talking to a small child.

he keeps his mouth shut, and you gush internally at the fact that he’s blatantly sulking. rin will never beat the allegations for being the cutest boy ever, even if he’s not the same as the sweet little boy you knew years ago.

desperately trying to hold back a laugh, you purse your lips and mimic rin’s little pout. “you used to listen to me much more obediently when you were younger.”

“you-“ you shoved the spoon into his mouth as soon as you get the chance. rin reluctantly complies but is quick to complain after. “that’s foul!”

you raise an eyebrow. “and that’s what the naughty boys get. tsk tsk.”

it’s obvious you don’t understand how wrongly your words could be interpreted by the way your expression stays unwavering. perhaps it was your dense disposition, or the fact that you’ve known rin since he was a kid in preschool.

rin thinks he’s being — and has been — painfully obvious about his feelings, yet you still fail to notice the faint blush creeping onto his face. even sae found out about it, and rin had to fight for his life to defend himself.

“rin. that’s practically incest-“

“oh my god nii-chan, you know that’s not true!”

sae can think you’re like a sibling to him, but rin doesn’t. in fact, he has never. he can’t deny that he’s had a crush on you the moment you were introduced to him as sae’s friend, and though it might seem like it was just puppy love, his current actions can prove that it isn’t.

“and you used to be so well-behaved back then.” you sigh dramatically. “did you know you would stick to me all the time, and get super jealous whenever i did anything with sae?”

the younger boy scoffs, standing up to go get a drink of water to make sure he doesn’t go insane from your ruthless teasing.

“hey! don’t run away!” you smile, eyes twinkling in amusement, as you get up to follow him. “it was really cute, i swear!”

choosing not the humour you, rin continues on with his task (that he could not care less about), humming in response.

you stand next to him and watch, occasionally feeling the need to poke him. starting from his arm, you string a line of pokes all the way up to his face, where you change your stance to pinch his cheek, a frequent action of endearment you used to do when you were younger.

needless to say, you were not expecting rin to grab your hand so promptly. and you most definitely were not expecting him to then lean towards you, not stopping until his face was merely an inch away.

“woah-“ you exhale as you stumble back slightly. he’s close enough for you to study all the details of his face, from the strands of his hair to the sharp curve of his jaw. he towers over you, his broad shoulders wide enough to engulf you completely into his presence. it’s funny, this scene is the complete opposite of what it was like as children, your roles entirely switched.

your breath hitches as his gaze locks onto yours, showing you all his pent-up feelings over the years for the first time. he’s determined, you can tell at least that much, but what surprises you the most is how dilated his pupils are; his eyes are begging to let you know his story, one of his long, endless pining for you, and you only.

it goes without saying you weren’t ignorant enough to overlook the reality that rin grew up, that he’s matured now. would it be cowardly for you to admit that you have indeed taken notice of his feelings at times, but refused to act on them in fear of losing him? what if you were wrong? what if rin didn’t like you that way? there was too much on the line, and you didn’t want to risk every memory you’ve made with him and sae for the past 12 years.

like an unspoken condition between you two, rin also knows the risks. he knows, but he’s so smitten it’s driving him insane. you’re a risk that he’s willing to take, and he’s had his mind made up since the beginning.

“yeah?” he whispers. “how about now?”

dumbstruck, you nod absentmindedly in response. almost like you were under a spell, and rin was the mastermind enchanting you.

rin smirks at the sight of your face heating up and flushing to a light red. “you still think i’m cute, y/n?”

“the cutest ever.” you’re quick to recover, flashing a small smile of your own. shameless, but you refuse to concede now. “care to prove me wrong, itoshi?”

“what the fuck are you two doing in the kitchen, oh my god.” sae deadpans. “rin, please pick and choose a better time to confess your feelings, thanks.”

you jump. rin groans.

“you need to pick and choose a better time to interrupt, THANK YOU.” rin scowls, letting go of your hand. the sudden withdrawal of his warmth disappoints you, but you smile nonetheless hearing their brotherly antics.

sae’s impassive, walking in between the two of you to refill his own water. “you two forgot all about me, i was getting worried that rin might’ve killed y/n or something.”

“as if!” rin rolls his eyes. “get out of here, at least let me finish.”

shooting him a quick side-eye, sae smirks at his little brother. “okay loverboy, just make sure to not make a mess in the kitchen.” and he swiftly makes an exit before any further retaliation.

“i hate him.”

“you know you don’t.”

rin sighs, closing his eyes for a few seconds.“i guess the cat’s out of the bag now.”

you laugh, and grab his hand to play with his fingers, a not very subtle attempt to hide your beet red face. “think it was obvious enough, rinnie.”

his heart throbs at your use of his childhood nickname. “took you long enough.”

“so, will you continue to show me how cute you are?” you ponder as you look up at rin.

“stop treating me like a child, jeez.” and that pout is back onto his face once again. “i’ll show you anything you want, but i’ll make sure you won’t see me as just a cute little boy anymore.”

a/n: this was so crack of me. not proofread btw i wrote this in one sitting. ^_^ @kouyun <3

[oddinary4bts]

Always Been You | hhj

☆ summary : when two estranged best friends meet again at their friends' wedding, an old spark reignites. You swear to yourself that you won't fall for Hyunjin again, until alcohol blurs the line between you two. Is it your fault if you find yourself drowning in the familiarity that is him?

☆ pairing: Hyunjin x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (technically 13+? There is no smut just lots of fluff)

☆genre: best friends to strangers to lovers, idol!au; fluff, some slight angst

☆warnings: mention of cheating, Hyunjin be a ghost, alcohol consumption

☆word count: 18.7k words

☆a/n: Sooo, yes I do write for both stray kids and bts. I really love this fic and I hope you guys will love it just as muuuch✨ enjoy your reading! Also I wrote this 2 years ago so obviously my writing has changed a lot but I hope you still like it!!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Prologue – five years ago

The smell of fresh rain on pavement filled your senses as you walked, legs moving in almost a half jog as you made your way to Hyunjin’s place. The hot summer air was rendered colder by the rain, and you quickened your pace as the rain doubled up.

It was unlike Hyunjin to invite you over at this time of the night, so unlike him that you had found you couldn’t say no. It was true that you had… sort of avoided him for the last week. Ever since Hangyeol had asked you out and you had said yes, to be precise.

The distant rumble of thunder had you moving into a quick sprint, right as Hyunjin’s house came into view. Though you loved the summer storms, you knew better than to stay outside when lightning was cutting through the sky.

You ran to the door, grabbing your phone to text Hyunjin that you were there. Though it was unnecessary, as the door immediately swung open in front of you.

“Hey”, Hyunjin said, moving aside to let you walk in.

“You better have a good reason for making me come here in this weather”, you said as a greeting, while Hyunjin shut the door behind you. You took off your shoes to put on slippers, before turning to look at your best friend.

“Let’s go to the playroom, I don’t want my parents to know you’re here.”

You furrowed your brows – the Hwangs had known you for a few years now, and had always liked you.

“Why?” you asked, unable to help yourself.

Hyunjin seemed to fidget for a moment, clearly uncomfortable under your gaze.

“What’s wrong with you?” you enquired, brows knit together.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, and he ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

Oh. So this was about Hangyeol.

“Let’s go to the playroom”, you repeated his words, walking around Hyunjin towards the sliding door that led to the small inner court of the house. The playroom was on the other side of the small court, and it sort of was your usual hang out spot with the rest of your friends.

You both took off your slippers as you stepped outside, grabbing them in your hands before you ran to the other side of the court as the storm had finally hit. Once you got into the playroom, you dried your feet on the carpet near the entrance, before putting your slippers back on and heading into the room proper. You sat in the L-shaped couch, Hyunjin’s foot tapping on the ground as you looked at him and an awkward silence filled the air around you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked once you couldn’t bear the silence anymore.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Hyunjin blurted out.

“I haven’t?”

“Oh.”

Another silence moved in the room, only interrupted by the tick of the clock on the wall.

This was unlike you. So unlike you that you felt dread moving through your blood.

“There’s something I need to tell you”, Hyunjin eventually said, his eyes meeting yours.

You pursed your lips, biting the inside of your bottom cheek. “What’s up?”

His foot started moving even faster, as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, even though you were starting to understand where this was heading to.

Hyunjin let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know. Jihoon-ah forced me to do this.”

As Hyunjin fell silent, you tilted your head to the side. “Do what?”

He looked away, his eyes falling on the painting that you had made with the rest of your group of friends a few months before. “I know you’ve started talking to Hangyeol. And before it’s too late, you need to know that I have feelings for you.”

He punctuated the end of his declaration with your name, uttered in a whisper that barely even reached your ears. It had the effect of a cold shower on you, and a stunned silence was all you were able to offer him.

“I… I know I’m a trainee and I don’t really have the time to… to give you what you deserve. But please don’t go with Hangyeol. He’s the worst.”

“You don’t get to tell me not to be with Hangyeol”, you let out. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Hyunjin gulped, wetting his lips. “Because he’s going to treat you like shit. He cheated on his ex.”

“They were together for two weeks, they barely even were a couple”, you said, your tone raising. “Why do you care?”

“I told you. I have feelings for you, I don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

Little did he know that his words were breaking your heart right now. “Jinnie, you don’t get to tell me you have feelings for me. I moved on from you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“A year ago? At Seonhwa’s birthday dinner”, you said, trying to explain, but not really wanting to.

Not when he was fidgeting twice more in front of your eyes, and you felt as if he was slipping through your fingers.

“I was dumb”, he let out. “But now that you’re graduated I thought…”

“What did you think?” you asked. “That I was going to crawl back to you?”

You didn’t know why you were as angry as you were. All you knew was that the more he looked distressed, the angrier you were growing.

“You’re my best friend, nuna, I’m not talking about crawling just… I’ve been a trainee for a year now and you’re always there to support me… I was stupid last year.”

“Fuck that, you asked me to just be friends and we are now, why are you screwing that up?”

“Why am I? You’re the one who decided to pursue Hangyeol”, Hyunjin spat, his tone finally meeting the venom in yours.

You scoffed. “Hangyeol already asked me out and I said yes, Jinnie, it’s too little too late.”

A stunned silence met your words, as Hyunjin just looked at you, lips slightly parted in surprise.

Not the positive kind of surprise.

“Don’t look at me like that”, you said, crossing your arms on your chest as you glanced away. Looking at that painting, and at the memories that it held.

“You’re dating him?” he asked, voice small, after a few more seconds of silence.

You sighed deeply, slightly shaking your head. “I am. You’re just my best friend, Hyunjin-ah, and that doesn’t have to change…”

“I don’t want to watch you get played by fucking Hangyeol, of all people.”

“Then you should have been honest to me before!” you exclaimed. “You shouldn’t have waited until I was with someone else…”

“I didn’t think you’d be with someone else! I thought… I thought we’d figure it out.”

“Fuck that, we had nothing to figure out, you’re just my best friend”, you said, repeating your earlier words.

“I know, I got it”, he said, shutting his eyes as he clenched his jaw. “No need to repeat it.”

“It hurts, uh?” you said bitterly. “To be told that.”

He glanced at you, though his eyes avoided your gaze. “Can you please just calm down?”

You scoffed. “Calm down? Please, you made me come here at midnight to tell me that you have feelings for me when I’m already dating someone else, what were you expecting?”

“Not that, honestly.” He finally met your gaze, and your heart broke at the pain in his eyes. “Not that at all.”

Your mouth fell open as you tried to find a retort but came up short. All you could think about was the way your heart was constricting in your chest, and the fact that you couldn’t quite breathe.

“Let’s take a few days to think about it”, Hyunjin said. “Just please consider it.”

“I won’t”, you said. “I don’t need to think about it, I’m perfectly happy with Hangyeol.”

“You barely know him.”

“And now you’re making me feel as if I barely know you. Did you really think I was going to wait for you? You said you wanted to be friends.”

He wet his lips again, his eyes scanning your features. “I needed time, I guess.”

“It was too long”, you said, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s getting late, I should go home.”

He breathed your name. “Please stay. Let’s just talk it out.”

You shook your head. “You’re the last person I want to talk to right now. Just leave me and Hangyeol alone.”

“So, you’re just going to drop our friendship like that?”

“No, I won’t. We’ll pretend tonight never happened and things will go back to how they were before.”

“I told you I don’t want to see you get your heart broken”, he said, voice small.

“Who says I’m going to get my heart broken?” you asked. “Just give him a chance.”

Hyunjin remained silent for a while, holding your gaze. You found you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face anymore, and it scared you shitless.

“If that’s what you want.”

*****

Present day

You stood behind Seonhwa, your hands a little clammy, as Jihoon was reading his vows.

Your friends’ wedding was a grand affair, one you had been expecting for quite some time now, as the two of them had been dating for what seemed like forever now. As the maid of honour, you had helped to prepare the wedding for months and to see everything going on perfectly felt quite gratifying.

Though, the sight of Jihoon’s best man made you feel… strange inside.

Hyunjin was dashing in his suit, blond hair styled in a man bun, piercing gaze moving from the couple to you every once in a while. Each time your eyes met, you felt as if your heart had forgotten how to beat.

You hadn’t seen each other in… well, years now. Though you had remained friends after that dreadful fight, you had lost touch as Hyunjin had debuted and grown distant with the whole group of friends. Or just you, apparently, if he was still Jihoon’s best man. An information Seonhwa had kept from you.

The ceremony moved on, and you tried to pay attention to it, ignoring the old ache in your chest every time Hyunjin looked at you.

You had been best friends, once. Until you had started dating your ex, and Hyunjin had confessed his feelings for you in the hope that you were not going to pursue your relationship with Hangyeol. Which honestly would have been the right thing to do, had you known any better.

Things had changed after that, and you had lost Hyunjin on your birthday the year he had debuted. He had ghosted you, actually. Had said he was going to meet you at the restaurant and had never shown up. Never answered any of your texts after that either.

Losing him had been sour, but back then you had Hangyeol, and you were happy with him. Or rather you had thought that you were happy.

After the ceremony, you moved into the reception hall, as your friends had decided to have a reception, a rare thing in Korea. The hall was a wide room decorated with plants and tall chandeliers, a room that looked straight out of a fairytale, if you were being honest. Especially with the soft fairy lights that were illuminating the place, and the crystal centerpiece that laid on each table. A long rectangular table held the presents that had been gifted to the bride and groom, even though most people had gifted money. Another long rectangular table was waiting for you all, at the end of the room.

Well, for Seonhwa, Jihoon, Hyunjin and you. The old squad, reunited after years apart.

“Have you talked to Hyunjin yet?” Seonhwa asked in ushered tones as you walked arm in arm towards your seats.

“Focus on your husband”, you reprimanded, though your eyes trailed to Hyunjin’s back.

“I can’t believe I’m married”, Seonhwa let out, looking down at the ring on her finger.

You chuckled, but you didn’t have time to talk more as you made it to your seats.

Soon enough, food was distributed, and you started eating, as the chatter of the guests filled the room with a euphoric buzz. Once dinner was over and the speeches were said, music replaced the conversation, and dancing ensued. You remained aside, looking over the evening, making sure that everything went smoothly, from the cake to the pictures.

As the night advanced, you found your maid of honour duties to finally be over, leaving you with… nothing to do but to watch the people partying and drinking. Soon enough, you found a glass in your hand, and you too indulged into the alcohol, as you watched Seonhwa and Jihoon partying as if there was no tomorrow.

“Hey”, a voice said beside you, and you didn’t have to look at the person to know who it was.

“Hey”, you let out.

You didn’t speak for a time, watching as your friends fell into a slow dance as a ballad replaced the lively beat that was playing a moment before.

“How… have you been doing?” Hyunjin asked.

You steeled yourself before glancing at him. He was much more beautiful up close, especially in the dim light. He looked… ethereal.

“I’ve been great”, you replied, politely, before your eyes moved back to the couples on the dancefloor. “How have you been doing?”

“Great”, he said. “I… it’s crazy to think that Seonhwa and Jihoon are married, uh?”

A small smile moved on your lips. “It is. We always knew that they were going to marry, though.”

“We did. Didn’t we make bets about it?”

You met his gaze again, your smile widening at the memories that filled your mind. “We did. You said they would have a kid before they married, didn’t you?”

Hyunjin chuckled. “I did. Seems like you won the bet.”

Eyes sparkling, you nodded. “I have. What was the winner supposed to get?”

“Wasn’t it a lifetime supply of bungeoppang or something of the sort?” he said.

“That, and the painting in your parents’ playroom.” You laughed as Hyunjin’s eyes widened.

“Right. Not our best work, though”, he said.

You shrugged. “You’re the only one of us who actually knew how to paint, it was to be expected.”

“You got paint all over my mother’s carpet”, Hyunjin recalled. “I had to buy a new one before she noticed.”

You laughed as your eyes moved back to your friends. “You didn’t want to move it, it was your fault.”

“Mmh, maybe”, Hyunjin let out, nodding slightly. “At least she didn’t notice.”

“Do you remember when we burned it? It smelled so bad!”

“It did.” He nodded as he put his hands in his pockets. “We were lucky we weren’t caught.”

“We really were. I think your mom would have hated me forever”, you said, a pensive look taking over your features as you recalled his mother.

You hadn’t seen the woman in forever.

“My mom has always loved you, she wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.” He shrugged as you met his gaze, an eyebrow cocked quizzically. “Trust me, as long as she hadn’t thought me responsible, we would have been good.”

“Right.”

Silence moved around you, and you took a sip of your glass.

“How’s work going?” he asked, words aimed to fill a silence you knew he wasn’t comfortable in.

“Great! I mean, I’ve published my first book”, you said shyly, avoiding his gaze.

He wet his lips. “I know, I’ve read it.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up to meet his gaze. “You have?”

He chuckled at the look on your face. “I rather liked Chung Hee. He kind of felt similar.”

You knew you had turned completely red when he started laughing.

“I… uh… right”, you let out, fumbling on your words. “I hope you didn’t mind.”

“No, on the contrary”, he said. “I liked it. Chung Hee and Cha Young’s ending was better than ours, though.”

“I didn’t want to write a book with a sad ending”, you said, your eyes falling to the glass in your hands.

“I… I missed you, Y/n.”

It was the raw truth behind those words that had you looking up at him again.

“I’m sorry for how things happened. I was a shit friend.”

“It’s okay”, you said, voice small. “I’m over it, now.”

He nodded once, before looking away, as the ballad ended and was replaced by another lively beat.

“You were right anyway”, you added after a time.

“About what?”

“I… assume Jihoon and Seonhwa told you about what happened with Hangyeol?” you asked.

He pursed his lips, before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So, at the end of the day, I probably should have listened to you”, you said, shrugging your shoulders. “But it’s all in the past now.”

He nodded once again. “It is. But I shouldn’t have acted the way that I did. I know it was a long time ago, but it sucked.”

“The night we fought, or when you ghosted me?” you asked, a tiny bit of venom seeping into your voice.

“Both. Mostly the ghosting, though. It was childish.”

It was strange to see how Hyunjin had matured. You didn’t quite feel like he was the teenager you had known, and you rather saw the adult in him. The man he was becoming every day.

“It was. But I’m not angry at you anymore. Being angry over stuff like that is a waste of time”, you said. Voice soft, because you wanted to reassure him. Wanted to relieve him of the heaviness that suddenly seemed to be plaguing him.

“You’re being too kind”, he let out, before sighing. “I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness.”

“Then why have you come to talk to me?” you asked, voice small.

He looked at you, scanning your features for a while before he spoke. “I wanted to apologize. When I saw you earlier… all the memories came flooding back. I don’t like the person that I was then, and I hate that I treated you the way that I did.”

“It’s okay, Jinnie, it really is. I’m over it now.”

His lips spread into a soft smile. “You’re as great as I remembered you to be.”

You chuckled slightly. “I’m the best, I know.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, don’t start with that.”

“The door was wide open, of course I had to start.”

He laughed lightly, his eyes sparkling for a moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you took another long sip of your drink to calm yourself down.

“We should hang out again”, he said. “You could come to my next concert. You always said that you were going to be my number one fan.”

A soft smile moved on your lips. “Oh, I’ve been following your journey through the K-pop industry, don’t worry about it.”

“Have you now?” He smirked and you chuckled.

“Of course. Just because we had a falling out doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to support you.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You know, a small part of me always imagined you cheering in the crowd. I’m glad I was right.”

You let out a loud laugh. “I’ve never been to any of your concerts, to be fair.”

You hadn’t been able to, even if you had gotten tickets twice.

“All the more reasons for you to come to the next one. We have one here in Seoul next week.”

“I’ll gladly come if you introduce me to Changbin”, you said, winking at him.

He scrunched up his nose as if in disgust. “I’m not even your bias?”

“Nah, you lost that privilege after you acted like a dick.” You shrugged, but mischief still lit up your gaze. “Besides, I’m more into Bangtan anyway.”

“Right, you already were into BTS back in high school”, he said, laughing. “But if I’m not your bias, then I don’t think you can come to my concert, unfortunately.”

It was his turn to wink at you.

“Your loss, then”, you said. “I have much better stuff to do anyway.”

“Of course you do. Like writing about me in a book.”

“Please, Chung Hee was merely inspired by you. I just used some of our stories.”

“Like that time we sneaked in the principal’s office.”

“Precisely like that.”

“And when you were sick because of some seafood and I had to take care of you.”

A blush crept on your cheeks. “You really read the book, did you?”

“Twice, actually. Seonhwa made me read it when she realized it was about us.”

You shook your head. “It isn’t about us. We never ended together.”

The silence that followed filled with tension as Hyunjin looked at you, his gaze intense with emotions you hadn’t expected to find there. Didn’t want to find there either.

“We indeed haven’t”, he said after a time. “Maybe… maybe we could try being friends again, though?”

It was hopeful, and it was what you wanted the most. Because talking to him right now had reminded you of what it had been like to have him in your life. The familiarity with which you interacted… you needed it, really. More than you imagined.

“I would like that very much”, you said, nodding slightly. “I miss your mother’s cooking.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing. “Of course that’s what you think of.”

“You can’t blame me, her kimchi is legendary.”

“I’ll ask her to make a batch for you, I’ll bring it at the concert.”

You grinned. “You better, if you want me to consider you as my bias.”

“Nuna, we both know I’ve always been secretly your bias.”

“Right.” You chuckled, glancing at the people around you.

Strangely enough, talking with Hyunjin made you feel … alone in the world. As if it was just you two, and you had an eternity in front of you.

“How have your parents been doing?” Hyunjin asked, the question taking you by surprise.

“Great! Awesome, really. They spend half the year in Toronto now, and my brother has gone back to Canada full time.”

“Oh, he has? He never really adapted to Seoul, didn’t he?”

You shrugged. “He was older when we came here so I guess… I guess it was harder for him? He was in his last year of high school and he barely was able to make any friends.”

“Yeah, I remember. You were always concerned for him.”

You nodded. “Still am. Though he’s engaged now, and they are expecting a child.”

“Adoption?”

“Yeah! Funnily enough, his boyfriend is Korean, but they met back in Toronto.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Awesome. He couldn’t fully escape Korea, couldn’t he?”

You laughed lightly. “Who can blame him, even I am in love with the Korean people, and you know how I hate people.”

Hyunjin laughed, before smirking. “Of course you are. That’s why I was always your favourite in high school.”

“You’re aware that everyone but me was Korean, right?”

He shrugged. “I still was your favourite, wasn’t I?”

You looked up, as if deep in thoughts. “Mmmh, I think I’ve always liked Jihoon better.”

“How scandalous, now that he’s married to Seonhwa.”

“I shall live my life in the regrets of never having told him he’s the better part of our group of friends”, you said, hand on your heart.

Hyunjin grinned goofily. “What a sad life.”

“At least I’ve got you as a consolation prize”, you said, winking at him as he furrowed his brows.

“Do you really, though?”

He winked as you pursed your lips to keep from smiling.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Always”, he said, cocking an eyebrow. “Especially if it annoys you.”

You chuckled, as silence moved around you. Though it was not an awkward silence. It felt comfortable with the familiarity that you always had had for each other… and you found you rather quite enjoyed it. Rather quite enjoyed that time and distance hadn’t changed you one bit. Even after the ache you both had caused the other.

“Do you want to dance?” Hyunjin asked, and your eyes widened slightly.

“I can’t dance with you, you’re a professional”, you replied quickly, as a small blush crept on your cheeks.

He shrugged. “Please, that’s never stopped you before.”

“You were barely a trainee back then, it doesn’t count”, you mumbled, as your heart raced in your chest.

He held out a hand for you, a small smile on his lips. Your eyes fell to his fingers, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight tremor of them.

So, he was anxious, too.

“Your loss if I step on your feet”, you finally said, grabbing his hand lightly, skin barely touching because you didn’t know if you’d be able to really hold him.

Not when your heart seemed to be dancing to its own beat now, a beat you didn’t know was echoed in his own chest too.

Hyunjin led you to the dancefloor, right as a song ended and a new one began. A wide smile spread on your lips as you realized it was a BTS song.

“Too bad they haven’t put any Stray Kids in the playlist, uh?” you said.

Hyunjin threw a puzzled expression your way, before leaning forward.

“What?” he asked.

You moved a little closer, so you could talk directly in his ear. “I said too bad they haven’t put any Stray Kids on the playlist.”

Hyunjin chuckled, and his warm breath tickled your ear as he moved even closer to speak. “That would have been a tad awkward, no?”

“Mmh, you could have shown us some of your choreographies, I’d say that would have been a win for all of us.”

He laughed once again, and you shut your eyes. The proximity of him… it felt so natural, and yet wrong. Wrong, because he had just barely come back into your life. You didn’t want to risk losing him by doing something stupid.

“Come to my next dance rehearsal. Then you can see me dance.”

He pulled away, just enough to look into your eyes.

“I’ll even introduce you to Changbin.”

Your cheeks once again tinted with pink. “That would be awesome.”

“But first, show me your moves, nuna.”

You chuckled, before downing the rest of your glass. “I hope you’re ready for a disaster.”

“It would never be a disaster with you.” He winked at you, and you shook your head as you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t remember you being a flirt”, you said, but before he could say anything else, Seonhwa threw her arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

Seonhwa drunkenly said your name in your ear, making you laugh lightly. “Dance with me.”

And just like that, Seonhwa pulled you away from Hyunjin, and the two of you started dancing together, laughing as you moved along to the music.

“You’ve been talking to Hyunjin-ah”, Seonhwa said as you spun in a circle.

You chuckled. “I would have continued if you hadn’t pulled me away from him.”

“I’m just waiting for the next slow song so I can push you back in his arms.”

You shared a laugh, before you looked down at the glass in your hand.

“I should go put that down somewhere before I drop it here and there’s glass everywhere.”

“Well, come back quickly, I asked for a slow song next”, Seonhwa said. “I’m not letting you avoid Hyunjin any longer.”

“I’m not avoiding him, you literally pulled me away from him”, you grumbled, glancing over her shoulder to meet Hyunjin’s gaze.

He smiled and you smiled back, though Seonhwa caught your attention once again.

“He’s been talking about you, you know”, Seonhwa let out, voice barely above a whisper.

The only reason why you heard was because the song ended, and the promised ballad started.

“You told him to read my book”, you said reproachfully.

Seonhwa shrugged. “Yeah. It didn’t take a lot of convincing, he had already bought it.”

Your eyes widened. “He had?”

“You seem to forget that you were best friends once.”

“He ghosted me”, you reminded your friend.

Heads started turning your way as your tones became more vehement, and as you stood unmoving in the middle of the dancefloor while people slow-danced around you.

“Because he couldn’t see you with Hangyeol”, Seonhwa explained. “Surely you were aware of that.”

“We were just friends”, you said, gaze flickering around at the few people that were looking at you.

Seonhwa didn’t know about your fight. Unless Hyunjin had told her, but she had never mentioned anything…

“You never looked at him as if he was just your friend.”

You clenched your jaw. “It’s your wedding, let’s not talk about this.”

“Y/n…” Seonwha let out, but you were already walking away.

To where, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you had to get away.

On your way out, you put your empty glass down on a table, not once looking back to see if someone was following you. There was a garden outside, and you walked to the middle of it, where you found a small gurgling fountain next to which you sat, eyes moving up to the starry night sky.

You took a deep breath to calm down the wild beats of your heart, as you scolded yourself. For causing a scene at your best friend’s wedding, mostly. But for also thinking that everything between you and Hyunjin could be fixed by a simple conversation.

You had to remind yourself that you didn’t know him anymore. And no matter how much you had missed him, he had still been the one to ghost you. On your birthday, of all moments. Were you ever going to be able to forgive him for that?

The answer to that came to you far quicker than you thought it would, as the shuffling of footsteps was heard over the gurgling of the fountain. Your gaze moved towards the path from which you had come, down which Hyunjin was now walking. Towards you.

He looked even better under the light of a thousand stars, if that was possible.

“Are you okay?” he asked, walking closer.

His hands were in his pockets, and he looked the perfect picture of nonchalance. As if everything that was in your past didn’t matter anymore.

And truly, maybe it didn’t.

“Yeah, sorry”, you said, looking down at your hands in your lap. “I needed a breather.”

“Can I sit with you?” he asked as he stopped a few steps in front of you, as if not wanting to invade your privacy.

You nodded, patting the stone bench next to you. “Yeah, come here.”

He smiled, and soon enough he was sat next to you. Almost close enough for your thighs to touch, and the space between you felt alive with electricity.

“Don’t listen to Seonhwa”, Hyunjin said after a moment of silence. “She really wanted to set us up tonight.”

“What?” you let out, bewilderment filling your entire being.

He chuckled lightly. “Seonhwa is a busybody, and she has taken it upon herself to set us up. She said we should have always been together.”

“She didn’t tell me that”, you admitted. “I… She knows we’re not even friends anymore.”

Hyunjin seemed to tense next to you. “And that’s my fault. I’ll forever hate myself for it.”

You scanned his profile as he was looking down at the ground in front of his feet.

“But I’ve matured”, he added after a time. “And I don’t want to live my life without you in it.” He looked up to meet your gaze. “You were my best friend, Y/n. You still are.”

“Hyunjin-ah…” you let out breathlessly.

“I’m serious, it fucking sucks without you around.”

Silence met his words, as the echoes of them seemed to fill the air around you.

“Seonhwa really shouldn’t interfere in stuff that doesn’t concern her”, you eventually whispered.

He chuckled. “Yeah, indeed.”

Another few beats of silence passed, as you just exchanged a long look. A look that conveyed more than words ever could.

“I’ll come to your dance rehearsal and your concert, Jinnie. It fucking sucks without you in my life too”, you finally said.

The warm smile that grew on his lips put the stars to shame. “I would love that. Let’s be friends again.”

“Let’s please be”, you agreed.

He wet his lips, as his eyes twinkled with emotions. The same emotions he could see in your own eyes, you were sure of it.

“You look beautiful, by the way”, he breathed. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didn’t really know how to approach you.”

You blushed, looking away from him. “Stop it. You aren’t usually one to compliment me.”

“It’s a new friendship, let’s set different rules for it”, he said, shrugging. “If you want.”

“You… just friends, right?”

He nodded. “I can’t offer you more anyway.” He paused, as you remained silent. “Not that you would want more, but you know what I mean.”

You almost said that you had wanted more since that day he had confessed to you, but you kept it in. Because it wasn’t entirely true, and your mind was just drowning in the softness of the moment.

“I do.” You nodded, a small smile growing on your lips.

And even though your heart seemed to beat steadier when he was next to you, you knew that you would be content in being just his friend. It was better than not having him in your life anyway.

*****

You bit your bottom lip, as anxiety moved through your blood. You had been anxious ever since you had gotten to the dance rehearsal, even more as Hyunjin had introduced you to the seven other band members. Who all seemed to know who you were already, and you didn’t quite know what to make of it.

You were currently at JYP entertainment’s studios, a place you had never expected you’d visit one day. The room in which you were was wide, with mirrors along one of the walls, in front of which the boys had been dancing for a while.

That also meant that you were hearing one of their unreleased songs on repeat, and you had had to sign an agreement not to record anything. It had all been very awkward, and you almost regretted coming. Especially after you were told you would have to sit in one corner of the room, from which the camera that was filming them couldn’t see you.

You hadn’t realized what being friends with Hyunjin was going to be like until you were sat in that corner.

“Fuck”, Hyunjin cursed as he plopped himself down next to you.

You looked at him as he wiped the sweat on his brow.

“I’m sorry I barely can talk to you”, he apologized. “I didn’t know we were going to be recorded today.”

You shrugged. “It’s okay, it feels like a private show.”

And it kind of did, but mostly it felt as if you were stuck in some kind of a dream.

You didn’t know if you liked it.

“Hope you enjoy it”, Hyunjin said, smiling as he took a deep breath. “It wouldn’t be so damn long if we didn’t keep messing up.”

“You’re the one messing up”, Changbin said as he stopped next to you two.

You looked up, meeting his gaze for half a moment before looking away.

You didn’t know what Hyunjin had told Changbin about you, but he was the member that had spoken to you the most ever since you had gotten here.

“We don’t usually have spectators”, Hyunjin said, shrugging.

You chuckled. “You perform in front of crowds all the time.”

“He’s been anxious about you being here”, Changbin admitted, and Hyunjin sprung to his feet.

“Shut it”, he said, pushing Changbin playfully as the guy laughed.

“Just being honest.” Changbin shrugged, and you chuckled as you watched Hyunjin’s cheeks turning red.

“Don’t listen to him”, Hyunjin said, meeting your gaze.

He held out a hand for you to take and you grabbed it as he pulled you to your feet.

“They’re just jealous that I’ve got a pretty girl coming to see me”, he added, winking at you as Changbin burst out laughing.

You knew you had turned beet red, but you tried to play it cool.

“So you think I’m pretty, uh?” you teased as you let go of his hands. “Too bad I really came here to see Changbin.”

Changbin’s eyes widened as he looked between the two of you. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“Who can blame you, Changbin’s the best of us”, Felix said as he threw an arm around said boy’s shoulders.

You laughed lightly, glancing at Hyunjin as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. He was smiling softly, and it warmed you inside.

Felix said something to Changbin that you couldn’t hear, and a second later the two boys were walking away, leaving you alone with Hyunjin.

“Do you like the new song?” he asked after a moment.

You nodded quickly. “Oh, it’s really good. I’m going to have it stuck in my head for a while now though.”

“The perks of hearing a song on repeat for hours on end”, Hyunjin said, laughing. “We should be done soon though.”

“No pressure, I have nothing to do today anyway.”

“Then if you want, I can give you a tour of the studios after?” he suggested, running a hand through his half-undone hair.

Though he had tied his hair back, dancing had caused him to be quite disheveled… and yet he still looked so effortlessly good.

It was unfair, really.

“Sure, I’d love to”, you accepted. “Only if we get something to eat too, I’m starving.”

Just on cue, your stomach grumbled, earning you a laugh from Hyunjin.

“Of course I’ll get you something to eat.” He undid his half bun, blond hair falling around his face.

You just watched him in awe as he tried to pull it back into a new bun, but failed to do so.

“Do you need help?” you asked, chuckling, as a few strands of hair escaped the bun.

“Honestly, I think I do.” He handed you the hair tie, before turning around.

You hoped he couldn’t feel your hands shaking as you raised them and ran them through his hair, once.

“You’ll have to bend down, you’re too tall for me”, you said, voice small.

“Right.” He obeyed, and you once again ran your hands through his hair.

It was silky soft, just like you remembered it, even though it was sweaty. You skillfully tied it back, massaging his scalp for a little before taking a step back.

Ignoring the way you could see Minho and Han looking at you and speaking in ushed tones.

“Thanks, nuna”, Hyunjin said as he straightened and turned to look at you, blocking the view of his band mates. “I’ll have to go back now, but we shouldn’t be long still.”

You nodded, pulling on the dry skin of your bottom lip. Hyunjin’s eyes dipped down to your lips, and you felt your cheeks burning.

Though they had been burning for a while, now, in all honesty.

You heard Hyunjin taking a deep breath before he turned around and walked away, leaving you standing there and feeling awkward.

You clearly couldn’t manage that friend thing at all.

You sat back down, fiddling with your fingers as the music started playing once again, and they went through the choreography a few times.

That distracted you from your thoughts… until you realized you were paying way too much attention to the way that Hyunjin was moving his body. It was then that you grabbed your phone instead of paying attention, because really you didn’t think you could trust your thoughts anymore.

You scrolled on Instagram while the boys practiced, not even realizing that the music had stopped until someone grabbed your phone out of your hands.

“Hey!” you let out.

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin asked. “Are we boring you?”

You scrambled to your feet, trying to grab your phone from Hyunjin’s hands, but he put it over his head, out of your reach.

“No, give me my phone”, you grumbled.

“Instagram is better than our dance rehearsal?” he asked as he looked up, scrolling on your phone. “Wait, were you really watching edits of us?”

“Give me my phone”, you begged as you tried to get to it.

He looked down at you, and you only then realized how close you were standing. Only then realized that you had put one hand on his chest to try to get to your phone.

You didn’t move for a time, only holding each other’s gaze. You looked between his two eyes, breath coming up short, until you glanced down at his lips.

That seemed to startle him out of the trance you had been in, and he took a step back, which almost made you stumble forward.

“Here”, he said, cheeks red and you grabbed your phone, a shot of electricity running through your arm as your fingers touched.

“Thanks”, you breathed as you looked down at the device to turn it off. “Are you finished yet?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can give you a tour now. Unless you want to eat first.”

He looked behind him, which had you looking at the other members too.

“I think the boys are going to get a bite and some drinks now, so it’s really up to you”, he said.

His eyes found yours again. “I… I don’t mind, do you want to go with them?”

He chuckled. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t mind what we do.”

You blushed, chuckling lightly. “Well then, we can go with them. If they don’t mind, that is.”

“Of course they don’t mind”, Hyunjin reassured you. “They’re going back home, though.”

“Right, you all live together”, you said.

He nodded. “Yeah, so I can give you a tour another time, maybe?” He scratched the nape of his neck, tilting his head to the side. “If you’d like that, of course.”

“Yeah. Yes, definitely.” You looked at Bang Chan, who was walking towards you.            

“So, are you guys coming?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’ll be right behind you”, Hyunjin replied.

“Don’t be too long, we’re starving.” Bang Chan smiled at you, before meeting up with the boys at the door. They exited the room, leaving you and Hyunjin alone, as the staff had already left too.

“Thank you for coming”, Hyunjin said. “I really am sorry I couldn’t talk to you more.”

A smile grew on your lips. “It’s fine, Jinnie, at least we’re hanging out now.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. And you’ll be happy to know I have some of my mom’s kimchi at the dorm.”

Your eyes lit up as you grinned. “This is the best day of my life.”

His lips spread into a smile too, and he nodded towards the door. “I can get you some of that bungeoppang too. Since you won the bet about Seonhwa and Jihoon.”

“Right, I had forgotten about that”, you said, laughing lightly. “Let’s do that. You’re going to have to give me that painting too.”

“It’s in my room, just leave with it”, he said, smiling. “It’ll be missed dearly, though.”

“Wait”, you said, eyes widening. “You brought it to your dorm?”

He wet his lips, nodding. “Yeah, how else was I supposed to remember where I came from?”

“A weird way to keep you humble.”

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “The dorm needed decoration anyway, so I figured why not.”

“Right.” You chuckled. There was a silence, during which you just looked at each other. You didn’t like the way that it made you feel inside, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. “Should we go, before the members leave without us?”

“I’ll grab my stuff, hold on.”

 You watched as he jogged to the other side of the room, where he had left a duffel bag with god knows what in it, as he hadn’t even touched it. You followed him as he aimed for the door, turning to look at you.

“I’m really happy you came”, he said, a soft smile lighting up his eyes.

“That’s what she said”, you joked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing.

“I really fucking missed your childish jokes”, he said as you left the room.

You grinned wickedly. “Happy to provide with your daily dose of bad jokes.”

He laughed, eyes crinkled with his smile. “Hopefully you won’t start with puns again.”

“Seonwha has always been better than me with puns, don’t worry about it.”

You continued chatting for a while, falling back into your usual familiarity, all tension gone from the conversation. You made it to the dorm as you talked and joked and laughed, as if no time had passed between you. As if you still were kids in high school, with no responsibilities and worries in life.

It was healing, really. To be with him like that again.

And even though you hadn’t known his band mates before today, they all were welcoming too. Warm, even, though they all seemed to be keeping some sort of a distance. It had you wondering what Hyunjin had said about you, and you figured it was better if you didn’t know.

After you all ate – Hyunjin’s mom’s kimchi was as good as you remembered – you sat in the living room of one of their dorms, drinking soju and beer and chatting about everything and nothing. The boys eventually started playing Smash on a switch, and you found yourself sitting on the couch, between Hyunjin and Changbin. The latter was sitting really close to you, and the heat of his body made you feel… strange inside.

All the stranger, because each time you looked at Hyunjin he had a knowing smile on his lips.

Was he trying to set you up with Changbin?

 “Should we invite Hayoon and her friends?” Bang Chan said from where he was laying on the floor.

“You want a consolation prize because I’ve just beaten your ass in Smash?” Felix asked.

Bang Chan threw a pillow at Felix, and the group laughed.

Only you seemed to have noticed that Hyunjin had tensed next to you.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Seungmin asked. “Didn’t she have sex with Jinnie last week?”

That explained Hyunjin’s tensing. Your eyes widened slightly, and you glanced at Hyunjin as the boy seemed to want to disappear through the floor.

 “Shut up, Seungmin”, Hyunjin grumbled.

There was a silence, and Bang Chan, Felix and Seugmin turned to look at Hyunjin. The latter’s eyes widened as he glanced at you, before resuming his attention on Hyunjin.

“Sorry bro”, Seungmin let out.

There was another awkward silence, only interrupted by the music of the game on the television. Bang Chan eventually scraped his throat, before handing his controller to Jeongin.

“Should we play another round?” he asked. “Who hasn’t played yet?”

Though you hadn’t played, you remained silent, sipping on your beer instead. You had never been quite a fan of beer, but you had assumed that drinking would help ease your nerves. It seemed you had been wrong.

Or maybe realizing that Hyunjin had an entire side to him that you didn’t know of was making you feel anxious.

“Do you want to play?” Changbin asked you, voice low so only you could hear.

You blushed slightly – talking to one’s bias was definitely not an easy feat.

“I’m trash, I don’t think I should play”, you replied and he chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter, we’re just playing around”, he reassured you, smiling softly.

You nodded once. “Alright then, I guess I can play.”

Changbin handed you the controller he was holding and you put your beer down on the coffee table in front of you. You sat back in the couch, glancing once at Hyunjin, who was looking down at the bottle he was holding.

“Do you know how to play?” Changbin asked.

“She’s just going to press all the buttons and call it a day”, Hyunjin said from beside you.

You stifled a laugh and you turned your head towards him.

The small smile on his lips reassured you in ways you couldn’t quite yet understand.

“And what about it?”

He laughed and you smiled softly, before turning back towards Changbin.

“I’ll be fine, I don’t care if I lose”, you said and Changbin chuckled.

“Jeongin is good, so you were probably going to lose anyway.”

You all laughed, and then started playing the game. You chose the Wii fit trainer as your character, which led to you being unable to stop laughing during all the fight, and of course Jeongin beat your ass. Though you couldn’t even stop laughing afterwards, especially not when Hyunjin played next and won against Jeongin, by playing with said Wii fit trainer.

You kept on playing for a while, and soon enough your mind was buzzing with alcohol and you felt far more comfortable with all the boys. It helped that Hyunjin was being a little sassy shit, and you and Changbin teamed up against him, teasing him to no end.

It was one hell of a great night, if you were being honest to yourself.

“How did you guys meet?” Changbin asked later that night, after Felix, Minho, Seungmin and Jeongin had gone back to their own dorm.

Bang Chan had disappeared in his room a while ago too, but Han was still with you, playing Smash online. He was currently winning his fourth game in a row.

“His first day of high school”, you said. “I was showing his class around the school and he started talking to me because he wanted to know where I was from.”

“And you had a tea and you dropped it on me, don’t forget”, Hyunjin recalled, tone teasing. “You’re lucky it wasn’t hot anymore.”

“You’re the one who ran into me, dumbass”, you said, laughing. “Wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been looking at me like that instead of looking at where you were going.”

“I was following you, of course I was looking at you! You just stopped dead in your tracks.”

“Mmh”, you let out.

You both turned towards Changbin, who had followed your exchange with slightly widened eyes.

“That’s cute”, he said as you just looked at him.

You all chuckled and then Han cheered, gaining your attention as he won his fifth game in a row.

“I’m on fire tonight baby”, he said, and Hyunjin high-fived him before sitting back in the couch.

“You’re only winning because you’re not playing against one of us”, he said.

Han turned towards Hyunjin, an offended look on his features. “Fuck off, Jinnie.”

You all started laughing, and then Han handed Hyunjin a controller.

“If you think you’re so good, then try to win against me.”

“I’ve drunk way too much for that”, Hyunjin admitted, shaking his head no. “Though I’d take another beer.”

You chuckled, feeling pretty drunk yourself. “I think we drank everything you guys had.”

“This is the end of the world”, Hyunjin said, putting a hand on his heart dramatically. “We’re all going to die.”

“Shut up, loser.” You laughed, punching him playfully in the shoulder.

Though you were still sitting closer to Changbin, the space between you and Hyunjin once again filled with electricity. As it often did now.

Hyunjin grabbed your hand, a smirk moving over his features. “We should play against each other. I’m pretty sure I’ll beat your ass.”

“Anyone here could beat my ass”, you complained. “Why would I play against you?”

“If you win I’ll let you sleep in my bed”, he said, head tilting to the side. “I’ll take the couch.”

You furrowed your brows. “Who said I’m sleeping here?”

Changbin chuckled from beside you, as if aware of what Hyunjin was planning. Because clearly, he was up to no good.

“I did”, Hyunjin replied, shrugging. “I won’t let you walk home so late.”

Brows still knit together, you grabbed your phone to check the time. “Oh shit.”

Han laughed as he threw you a look over his shoulder.

“So, you’re staying tonight”, Hyunjin declared. “And you get the bed if you win against me.”

“I’d say yes if I were you, Y/n”, Changbin said from beside you. “Chan’s room is close and he snores loudly, you don’t want to have to sleep in the living room.”

You glanced at Changbin, before returning your gaze to Hyunjin’s. “It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”

His smirk only widened. “Well then, why don’t we head to bed? I’m tired.”

Right on cue, he yawned, which in turn made you yawn too. Changbin and Han remained silent, as if aware that you two needed privacy for a moment.

“You promise to stay on your side of the bed?” you asked softly.

“Of course, nuna”, he replied gently, his smirk melting into a soft smile. “Shall we?” he asked, getting up and extending a hand out for you to take.

You did, entwining your fingers, before glancing at Changbin.

“It was nice to meet you”, you told him, before looking towards Han, who had started another game. “You too, Jisung.”

“Nice to meet you”, the two boys echoed, and you got up to follow Hyunjin to his bedroom.

Strangely enough, it felt as if your heart was going to burst in your chest. And not because you were happy, but rather because you were becoming more and more anxious with every step you took. You could feel Hyunjin’s hand shaking in yours, so you knew he was feeling exactly the same way.

What was wrong with you?

You walked into Hyunjin’s bedroom, and the boy closed the door behind you as you took a few steps forward in the cool darkness of the room. Red LED lights turned on, and you spun around to look at Hyunjin.

You looked at each other in silence for a time, until your eyes scanned the room, landing on the painting that was hung over his bed.

“I can’t believe you’ve put it on display like that”, you murmured, right as Hyunjin moved farther into his room, sitting on the side of his bed.

“It holds great memories, how could I not?” he whispered.

You walked to his side, sitting next to him, as he looked at his hands in his lap.

“I know we have barely started to talk again…” you started, putting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer. “But I’m really happy to be here with you.”

“You have no idea how happy I am too”, he replied, putting his head on top of yours. “You remind me of before.”

“Before what?” you asked curiously.

“All of this”, he said, motioning with his other hand to your surroundings. “Sometimes I forget that I wasn’t always an idol… and I miss it. I miss when life was simpler.”

You pursed your lips, moving a little closer to him. “I miss it too. Not when you weren’t an idol, because to me you haven’t changed, but when we used to make memories every day. Those are the best memories of my life.”

“Even when I accidentally burned some of your hair with your curling iron?”

You chuckled, smiling fondly at the memory. “Even that. All of it, if I’m being honest.”

Though you had looked quite weird for a time, as the strand of hair hadn’t grown back in over a year.

Hyunjin sighed and you looked up at him, pulling away slightly so you could gaze into his eyes.

“We were stupid, weren’t we?” he asked.

It was your turn to sigh. “We were young. Stupidity and youth often go hand in hand together.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “We’re still young, you know that, right?”

You nodded. “We’re not teenagers anymore, though. So, we’re a little less stupid.”

“I wish I still was stupid”, he murmured, as his eyes dipped to your lips.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you became all too aware of every inch of him that was touching you. “Please don’t”, you breathed.

He slightly nodded before getting up and moving away from you. “You’ve never dated after Hangyeol, have you?” he asked as he started rummaging through a drawer.

The change of subject had the effect of a cold shower on you. “No. Well, yes and no. I went on a blind date once, but it didn’t go well.”

“Mmh”, he let out, as he got an oversized white sweater out of the drawer. He threw it at you and you caught it, looking at him quizzically. “So, you don’t sleep in your clothes.”

“Oh”, you said. You looked down at yourself, and then at his unmade bed. “You still don’t make your bed.”

He chuckled, and when you turned to look at him your mind went completely blank.

He had taken off his shirt without you realizing.

You blushed, looking down at the sweater in your hands, as your heart went crazy in your chest. You heard him putting on a shirt more than you saw him, and you didn’t look up until he moved closer to you.

“There’s a bathroom outside of my room. First door to the right, if you want to get changed in private.”

You nodded, before getting up. “You’re sure you don’t mind me sleeping here?”

He smiled, cocking an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say it isn’t our first time sleeping together anyway?”

You rolled your eyes, before moving around him to head to the door. “Right, never mind.”

His laugh followed you out of the bedroom, and you went to the bathroom, where you changed, hands trembling slightly at the thought of putting on some of his clothes.

Just like when you were younger.

You moved back to his bedroom when you were done, only dressed in the oversized sweater, which rested around the middle of your thigh. Not something you would have worn in public, but it would suffice for sleeping.

Hyunjin was already in bed, scrolling on his phone, when you walked in. He glanced at you, and quickly looked away as you put your clothes down on the chair of his desk. He had put a wall of pillows in the middle of the bed, and you laughed as you moved closer.

“Did you really do that?” you asked, sitting on the left side of the bed.

He looked at you from his side. “I figured you wanted your privacy.”

You smiled softly. “How kind.”

You settled down under the covers, turning to face Hyunjin. You pulled down one of the pillows until his face came into view.

“I like the LED lights”, you said. “Gives the room a chill vibe.”

He looked around, before resuming his attention on you. “It does. Red is better when you go to bed anyway.”

You furrowed your brows.

“Something about your brain producing melatonin”, he said, shrugging his shoulders – which proved to be awkward in his position.

“Right”, you nodded.

You looked at each other for a time, until you looked away. Holding his gaze was becoming far too difficult when he looked at you like… that.

“You keep your hair tied back when you sleep?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

Change it from what, you didn’t know.

“Ah”, he let out. “I don’t.” He sat up, untying his hair.

It fell around his face, and he put the hair tie on his night table before lying down again.

“Can I play with your hair?” you asked, unaware that you were going to ask until the words had crossed your lips.

It was hard to tell in the red light, but you were pretty sure he had blushed.

“You’ve always loved to do that, have you?”

It was your turn to blush, and you really did hope that the red light was hiding it.

“Your hair is really soft”, you explained, or tried to, because really you had no idea why you had asked in the first place.

He moved closer, turning around so you had access to the back of his head.

It was easier to breathe when he wasn’t looking at you, you realized. That was until you started running a hesitant hand through his hair, and he sighed as you massaged his scalp.

“I think the part I missed the most about us is this”, he whispered, and you chuckled.

“I thought you missed my jokes”, you said, teasing.

He laughed. “Nothing beats you playing with my hair.”

“Not even when other girls do it?” you asked, as your fingers paused their dance in his hair.

He didn’t reply for a long time. “You heard what Seungmin said, uh?”

“Well, it was hard not to hear it, he yelled it”, you said, tone… hesitant, really. Because you didn’t know why you were bringing that up.

It wasn’t like you cared, no?

“I don’t date, if that reassures you”, he said. “But… I’m not against casual sex.”

You resumed playing with his hair. “Do you do that a lot?”

You would have given a lot to be able to look him in the eyes as you had asked the question.

“Not particularly”, he replied. “I don’t do feelings and relationships, so…”

“Because of the clause?”

He chuckled, and it sounded bitter. “Not really. The clause has never really stopped anyone.”

Your heart picked up its pace as the words settled in. “Then why don’t you?”

“I…” he let out, before pausing for a long time. So long you almost thought he was never going to reply. “I’ve never really met anyone that I’ve liked enough to consider that.”

You almost gulped, as your fight echoed in your mind, even though years had passed since then.

He hadn’t met anyone after you, he meant. You were convinced of it.

“I’m sorry”, you breathed.

“Don’t be, it’s not like I really have time to date anyway”, he said.

He turned on his back, glancing at you as your hand hovered next to his face. “Why didn’t you date after your ex?”

You turned on your back too, hand moving away from him, though the silky ghost of his hair still played on your fingers.

“It didn’t really end well, as you already know”, you whispered. “It’s been hard to trust anyone since then.”

Though he was unaware that most of your trust issues came from when he had ghosted you.

“I wish I would have been wrong”, he said gently. “You didn’t deserve the way he treated you.”

Your heart ached in your chest for a moment. You remembered the fight, and how he had warned you about Hangyeol… Ever since Hangyeol had told you he had been cheating, you had often found yourself wondering. Wondering what would have happened if you had listened to Hyunjin. If you had decided to give him a chance, back then.

A part of you wondered if you would have been like Jihoon and Seonwha.

“Nobody deserves to be cheated on”, you said, shrugging it off. Because you didn’t want him to remind you of just how much you had screwed up.

“Yeah.”

You fell silent, looking up at his ceiling, until he turned to look at you. It took you a while to look at him too. Your eyes fell to the mole under his left eye, and you pursed your lips.

“We should go to sleep.” Your words were barely above a whisper, and he slightly nodded.

“We should”, he agreed. “Thank you for coming today.”

“Thank you for inviting me, Jinnie.”

You exchanged a soft smile, until you yawned once again.

“I’ll take that as a cue to turn off the lights”, Hyunjin said, chuckling. “Good night, nuna.”

“Good night”, you replied, sighing as you nuzzled your face in the silk of your pillow. The room fell dark, the echo of the red light playing against the sudden darkness. “Stay on your side of the bed.”

He laughed lightly, the sound the last thing you heard before falling asleep, far quicker than you had in a while now.

*****

                You woke up with a pounding headache, feeling way too warm for your own good. You kept your eyes shut for a while, apprehending the moment you’d open them… until you realized why you felt so warm.

And no, it wasn’t because you were wearing a sweater.

Your eyes fluttered open, breath catching in your throat as you realized that Hyunjin was pressed against you, face nuzzled in your neck as you were laying on your back. His arm was on your stomach, and his soft breathing indicated to you that he was still very much so asleep.

Asleep and cuddling you, for God’s sake.

You didn’t move for a while, breathing in the scent of him as his proximity filled your nose with the fragrance of his shampoo, and maybe some cologne he had been wearing last night. His hair was tickling your face, and you slightly turned it away from him, though you didn’t quite feel like putting any sort of distance between you.

Not when he seemed so peaceful.

As your heart raced in your chest, you hoped that he couldn’t hear it. Really fucking hoped, otherwise you were afraid it’d wake him up.

You took a steadying breath as you shut your eyes once again. His room was still dark, so there was no use to getting up. Especially not when he was close to you like that, and it felt as if no time had separated you at all.

You wondered what he would think, if he were to wake up right now, so close to you you could feel his chest moving every time he took a breath. You liked to think that he would be happy. That, maybe, he had done it on purpose, and not while he was sleeping.

 It was a dangerous thought to have, when your friendship was still so precarious. So close to falling off the edge, you felt… threatened. By him. By the thought of him and his words and the way he was still looking at you after all these years.

Best friends indeed.

Hyunjin’s arm tightened around your stomach, and he pulled you even closer. Too close for your own comfort. Where the hell was the pillow wall anyway?

“Everything alright?” Hyunjin whispered, startling you.

“You’re not asleep?” you asked.

He chuckled, deep sound reverberating through his chest. “I was.”

He made no move to move away from you, and you felt yourself relaxing, even if the proximity of him… it was a danger. A threat to your own sanity.

“Seems I’ve crossed the pillow wall”, he whispered against the skin of your neck, and the feeling of his lips on you made you lose your mind.

“Hyunjin-ah…” you breathed out, heart beating out of your chest.

“I’ll go back to my side”, he said. Though he didn’t move for a time. As if waiting for you to ask him to stay.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t ask him that, knowing just how dangerous it was to let him in like that. He had broken your heart without a single ounce of regret, hadn’t he?

Though maybe you had been the one to break his heart in the first place.

The weight of his arm lifted from your stomach, and you almost whined at the loss of contact. It scared you shitless.

 He moved away, and the bed suddenly seemed very cold. Though the cold came from within, and you were all too aware of it.

“I’m sorry I cuddled you like that”, he said after a moment of silence.

“Oh”, you let out. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

In fact… you were disappointed. Disappointed that he had moved away, and you hadn’t asked him to stay close.

You rather liked to have him so close to you like that.

“Good.” He yawned, and you glanced his way, though you couldn’t quite see him in the darkness. “Good night”, he added a few seconds later, and his breathing evened out, indicating that he had already fallen back asleep.

You almost were jealous of it, as you knew sleep would avoid you for the rest of the night. Especially since your heart was still racing in your chest, and it didn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.

Fucking hell.

*****

The next few days passed in a weird anxious blur, with you and Hyunjin not seeing each other except that morning after you had slept in the same bed. He texted you a lot though, more than you had thought he would, and it really felt as if no time had passed. As if you were still the same Jinnie and Y/n, and really you loved every second of it.

Especially as you finished the first draft of your second novel, and submitted to your editor a week in advance. Not a big win, but something you were proud of nonetheless. It seemed you had found your inspiration back, and you were no fool.

You knew it was all thanks to Hyunjin.

The day of the concert came far quicker than you had thought it would, and you stood in front of your closet for a long while, not knowing what to wear at all. You still had Hyunjin’s sweater, but you didn’t feel it was… appropriate, for a concert. Especially not when Hyunjin had posted pictures of him in that sweater in the past, so fans could connect the dots between you.

Something you didn’t want happening, as you were just friends.

Instead, you chose a short black skirt, that you paired with a white t-shirt, along with black converse shoes. It was a cute yet simple outfit, that you paired with your lilac purse.

You curled your hair, putting on a bit of make-up too. Just eyeliner and mascara, as you had to get to the venue in advance. Indeed, Hyunjin had invited you to the soundcheck during the afternoon, and you didn’t want to miss it for the world.

You made your way to the concert venue with public transport, mind filled with memories of you and Hyunjin back in the days. Mostly, you thought about his parents, whom you hadn’t seen since before he had ghosted you, and whom you had already appreciated, as they had always made you feel welcomed under their roof. You wondered if Hyunjin would invite you over for dinner, and you thought maybe you should suggest it to him.

After all, he had been the one to invite you to the dance rehearsal earlier this week, and to the concert today. It was only fair if you tried to plan something now.

You made a mental note to talk to him about it when you would get the chance today, as you got out of public transport to walk the rest of the distance to the venue. You texted him that you were there, and he told you to meet him at a garage entry, which proved to be a lot harder to find than you had expected.

After fifteen minutes of searching, Hyunjin called you on your phone, clearly wondering what was taking so long. You picked up the call, unable to hide the annoyance from your voice.

“Where the fuck is the garage?” you asked and he burst out laughing.

“You know where the front doors are?”

“Yeah”, you let out.

“Turn left from there. It’s on the other side of the building, but that’s the quickest way to get there.”

“I’ll be there soon. But please stay with me”, you begged, as you quickened your pace to make it back to the front doors.

“They’re expecting me in five minutes, so be quick”, he said, voice sounding far from the phone. “I’ll hide so they don’t find me here.”

You chuckled, as you neared the corner of the building. “I’m almost back to the front.”

“I’d meet you there if I wasn’t afraid to be seen by fans”, he said.

“It sucks to be famous, does it?” you teased him.

Though a crowd of fans came into view, which surprised you, because the doors didn’t open until seven tonight. But then again, you also had arrived early to all the BTS concerts you had gone to, so you didn’t blame Stray Kids’ fans for doing the same.

You walked around the crowd, picking up your pace even more as Hyunjin sighed.

“They’re calling my name”, he whispered in the phone. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“I’m not going to start running, that would be suspicious”, you said. “Hold on, I’m almost there.”

Soon enough, you finally found the garage, and Hyunjin walked out of where he was hiding, though you could barely call it a hiding spot. The crew hadn’t really searched for him if they hadn’t seen him standing behind the bus.

“Hey”, he said, hanging up the phone as you came into view.

You jogged towards him, and you quickly hugged, before walking in the building.

“This place was far too hard to find”, you grumbled as Hyunjin led you down a hallway.

He chuckled. “I’m glad you made it though. Tonight’s going to be fun.”

As he smiled at you over his shoulder, you felt your cheeks burning. It was going to be fun indeed, especially since she was going to be with him.

Well, not when he was going to be on the scene, of course. But the rest of the time yes.

You followed Hyunjin down a few hallways, almost jogging behind him as he was walking far quicker than your small legs could allow you. He laughed at you, and you playfully pushed him.

“You’re annoying”, you said.

“You’ve got tiny legs”, he countered-back.

You squinted your eyes at him in annoyance. “The concert has better be good if you made me come here just to insult me.”

He chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked at you. “Our concerts are never bad, nuna.”

You moved into a wider room, where people were running around, trying to get everything ready in time for the concert.

“Hyunjin-ah!” a young woman said as she stopped next to you. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere, the others are already on the scene.”

“Sorry, I was waiting for her slow ass”, he apologized, pointing to you.

“Hey!” you let out, and you moved to punch him but he jogged out of your reach, before turning around and winking at you.

“I’ll be back soon, don’t miss me too much”, he teased, and then he was gone.

You just stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do. The young woman who had talked to Hyunjin hadn’t moved, and she looked between you and the place where Hyunjin had disappeared.

“So, you must be Y/n”, she said, as her eyes finally settled on you.

You nodded, though a slight blush crept on your cheeks. Had Hyunjin told everyone about you already?

“I’m Yuna”, the girl said. “Nice to meet you.”

You bowed at the same time, as you echoed Yuna’s last words.

“I’m Hyunjin’s hair stylist”, Yuna continued. “I was supposed to dye his hair before the soundcheck.” She sighed, and you only then noticed the hair product Yuna was holding.

“I can help you with that after, if you want”, you suggested.

Yuna’s eyes lit up. “That would be really helpful.”

“I’d be glad to help”, you said, smiling. Though a tiny part of you knew why you had suggested…

Goddamn it, were you really jealous of his hair stylist?

As you waited for Hyunjin to finish the soundcheck, you moved closer to the stage, though you didn’t really have a good view of it from backstage. A crew member told you that there were going to be TVs later, which was a relief, but you still managed to catch a glimpse of the boys as they sang a couple of songs, just to make sure the mics were well tuned and that everything was going to go smoothly later.

Once Hyunjin came back, along with the others, you stood to the side to let everyone pass, as Hyunjin was the last one in the line. He stopped next to you, a little out of breath and smiling widely, and truly he looked so happy it almost made your heart burst right then and there.

“Excited for tonight?” he asked.

You grinned back at him, unable to hold your smile in when he was looking at you like that. “Yes. But now we’ve got to get your hair dyed.”

He nodded, and you walked back towards the main backstage room. “Yeah, my hair is going red for tonight.”

“Ooh, can’t wait to see”, you said, chuckling. “I’ll help your stylist because I was the one to cause the delay.”

Hyunjin smiled, and his fingers brushed the back of your hand as you walked towards the chair where Yuna was waiting for you. The feel of his fingers against your hand had your heart missing a couple of beats, and you quickly pulled your hand away, pretending to put your hair behind your ear.

You were blushing again, for God’s sake.

“Yuna looks pissed, doesn’t she?” Hyunjin whispered as you walked, and you chuckled, though it sounded more like you were choking on air.

You really needed to get a hold of yourself when you were around him. You barely were friends again, and there you were letting your heart betray you like that.

“She does”, you said after a few more seconds of silence. “She probably hates me.”

“Nobody can hate you, nuna”, he reassured you, gently nudging you with his elbow. “Except when you’re being a little shit, then I do hate you.”

“Jinnie!”

You laughed as you punched him in the shoulder.

“You’re even worse than you were before.”

“Oh, you’ve barely seen anything”, he said, chuckling, as you finally reached Yuna’s side.

Yuna got up from the chair, motioning at it with her hand. Hyunjin sat, and soon enough she had a towel wrapped around his shoulders to make sure no dye got on his shirt. She then handed some gloves to you, and you put them on as Hyunjin carefully watched you in the mirror in front of him.

“What?” you asked as you grabbed some of the product.

“Careful not to get some in my eyes”, he said, winking at you.

“Just close your eyes and let us work”, Yuna said, patting him on the shoulder.

The familiarity of the move made you twice as jealous as you already were. You swallowed down the feeling, though it had a vile taste.

You really didn’t like how you felt around Hyunjin.

You all fell silent as Yuna showed you how to apply the product, and soon enough you got to work, as Hyunjin scrolled on his phone. As if he too sensed the awkwardness in the air. Or maybe that was just you, and you were being jealous for absolutely no reason.

With the help of the hair stylist, you dyed Hyunjin’s hair red, using a towel to prevent from putting some dye on his face, though the dye was said to be washable with water. Soon enough, Hyunjin’s hair had turned a bright shade of red, and the hair stylist sauntered off after having rinsed the little dye that you had accidentally put on the nape of his neck.

Hyunjin turned towards you as soon as the stylist left, a wicked smile on his lips.

“How do you like it?” he asked.

“What?” you let out.

He rolled his eyes. “The hair, dumbass.”

“I know, I was just teasing you.” You winked at him, and then made a good show of looking at his hair. Though he looked really fucking good, you weren’t going to tell him that, no? “It suits you well, though it’s a really bright color, is it not?” 

He shrugged. “It’s just for the show. It’ll wash off tonight in the shower.”

“My hard work, gone so soon?” you said, putting a dramatic hand over your heart.

“You’ll just have to do it all again at the next concert”, he said, chuckling. 

Though you didn’t miss the way his cheeks slightly tinted with pink.

“I can’t make it to all your concerts”, you said, scanning his features. 

His face slightly fell, but a make-up artist stopped next to him, and he couldn’t reply.

The make-up artist began by putting blue contacts in his eyes, before applying some make up on his features. You carefully watched, trying to ignore the weird tingle in your heart every time the make-up artist brushed her fingers against his face.

Really, it wasn’t normal for you to feel like that. That thought kept spiralling in your mind for the whole concert, so much so that you found you couldn’t quite enjoy it. No, panic was slowly gaining a hold of you, and you didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t know if you should accept that, after all these years, your feelings towards him hadn’t changed at all.

It was terrifying, really, even if he seemed to display those same feelings. He had broken your heart three times – when he had asked to just be friends, when he had told you about his own feelings, and then when he had ghosted you. You would be a fool to let him in this time, just because the timing seemed… better.

You pushed the thoughts aside when the concert finished, even though they kept haunting the far back of your mind. It was nothing a bit of alcohol wouldn’t numb anyway.

You returned to the dorms after the concert, along with the other members. They all seemed over energetic, and buzzing electricity moved through the whole group as they sat around the kitchen table, eating what you considered to be a literal feast.

It was easy to be with Hyunjin in a setting such as that one. He was a friend, and not… whatever else he could be when you were alone. Which was a relief, because those thoughts really weren’t that far. Even after all the soju that you had drunk while eating.

And it was fun. A buzzing kind of fun, the fun that came when one had their mind swimming with alcohol. Not enough to reach the point of no return, but just enough to reach… this feeling. This euphoria that was gaining control of you with every laugh and smile. 

The members of Stray Kids truly knew how to have fun, behind close doors. And they also really knew how to make someone feel welcome. Really, you almost felt as if you had always been friends with them, as if they were all part of that friendship you had shared with Hyunjin. And maybe that was the reason why you were so comfortable – because they were Hyunjin’s closest friends, like you had once been. Like you wished you would be again someday. 

“Nuna”, Hyunjin said, moving closer to whisper in your ear.

Everything in you stopped at once, and you hoped he didn’t notice the way you had stiffened next to him. 

“What?”

“What do you think about Changbin?” he asked. 

Your eyes trailed to the man in question, and you exchanged a small smile before you resumed your attention on Hyunjin.

“Why are you asking?”

“Do you like him?” he asked, once again moving close to you so he could whisper in your ear.

Your brows knit together. “I barely know him.”

“Would you like him?” Hyunjin asked again, speech slightly slurred by the alcohol.

You almost died right on the spot when Hyunjin’s lips brushed your ear as he spoke. You ignored the looks the other members were throwing at you as you focused on the space between you and Hyunjin.

There really wasn’t much space, wasn’t it?

“Why do you want to know that?” you enquired, voice breathy.

“You…” he let out. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Hyunjin-ah”, you breathed as he once again brushed his lips against the lobe of your ear. You slightly moved out of his reach, though you leaned to whisper in his own ear. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know”, he let out, and your eyes shut as he sighed, and the warmth of his breath brushed the skin of your neck.

You slightly turned your face towards him, no longer in control with yourself. All you knew was that you, too, wanted to press your lips against his ear.

Though you went as far as nibbling on his ear, alcohol inhibiting all restraint you usually would have had. All restraint you thought you had, actually.

Clearly, you hadn’t had much.

He sighed once again, a hand moving up so he could brush your hair behind your shoulder, and his mouth immediately moved, barely pressing on the spot where the collar of your shirt stopped. He left a light kiss there, and you slightly opened your eyes, looking down at him.

Until he moved up, face a few inches away from yours. Far enough so you could see the blue of his contacts and his red hair. Close enough to know there was no turning back now.

You leaned in, closing the space between you. The space and the time that had separated you, really.

You lightly brushed your lips against his, and your eyes shut in synch as Hyunjin let out a shuddering breath. Your heart started racing in your chest, and you were pretty sure you were trembling when he pecked her lips. 

You were in your own little world, away from everyone else. In your own little bubble of peace and contentment, really. A place where you should have met a long time ago.

You fully pressed your lips against his, the taste of soju on his mouth making you dizzy inside. Even more so, as he ran a hand through your hair, grabbing the back of your head to pull you closer as he deepened the kiss. One of your hands rested on his thigh, and you slightly parted your lips as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip.

Your tongues met in a passionate dance as a breathy sound bubbled in your throat, your other hand getting lost in his hair as you pulled at it. He grunted, and you wondered if he was shaking or if it was you. 

Maybe it was both of you.

And you were shaking… for what exactly? You didn’t even know. All you knew was that you were about to burst right then and there, and your heart couldn’t quite take it.

He whispered your name against your lips, and you kissed him harder. He met your pace, and you were pretty sure he would have pulled you in his lap had someone not cheered.

You pulled away from him, eyes wide, as you realized what you were doing.

His gaze met yours, and there was fear in his eyes. 

“I should go”, you said, and you were up before your sentence had ended.

Hyunjin followed you, slightly stumbling as you stormed towards the door.

“Y/n, wait”, he let out. “What’s wrong?”

Moving out of the dinning room, you walked down the hallway leading to the door.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, turning around to look at him.

You were shaking with your whole body now.

“We… we just kissed, it… Why are you freaking out?” he asked, and you tried to read the emotions on his face.

All you knew was that he too was panicking.

“That was wrong”, you said. “We shouldn’t…”

He chuckled bitterly, taking you by surprise. “It was time we kissed, don’t you think?”

“Just because Seonwha wants us to be together doesn’t mean we should be.”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Nuna, I’m not talking about Seonwha. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same about me.”

“We had this conversation once, Hyunjin-ah, and look where it led us.”

“It led us to tonight, didn’t it?” he pointed out, with an edge to his voice you definitely didn’t like.

“I don’t want that. I don’t want to be with you like that.”

“You kissed me”, he said, venom dripping from his voice. “You want it just as bad as I do.”

“You can’t just come back into my life like that, Hyunjin-ah!” You glanced at the door, though you were slowly starting to see red. It wasn’t anxiety making you shake anymore, but rage. “You came back when it was convenient for you, uh? You waited until I wasn’t with Hangyeol anymore, and then you pull off this shit?”

“You’ve broken up for months, I didn’t come back right away, didn’t I?” He scoffed. “I wouldn’t have come back at all if it hadn’t been for Seonwha.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have.”

The silence that fell around you was heavy, pressing you down as you felt your lungs burning. You just stared at each other. You tried to pretend you couldn’t see the pain on his features, but youncouldn’t ignore it. 

“Leave me alone”, you said, voice small. “I need to think.”

“What is there to think about?” he asked, and his voice broke on the last word.

You motioned between the two of you. “This. Whatever just happened. I… it’s better if we don’t talk for a few days.”

“Please don’t go”, he begged, and you shut your eyes as your heart sank in your chest.

“This is not the end”, you said, hoping he could hear the promise behind those words. “I just need a few days.”

You opened your eyes to see him blinking back tears. 

It came as a surprise that your own gaze was still dry.

“Okay”, he let out. “I’ll give you a few days.”

You nodded, scanning his features one last time before you turned around, aiming for the door. You didn’t hear him move, and neither did you look over your shoulder to see if he had. You weren’t quite sure you would have been able to leave if you had looked at him then.

*****

                You stared at the blank page on your laptop. Lost in the dizzying twirls of your thoughts. 

It happened to you a lot lately, quite honestly.

It had been a little over a week since your fight with Hyunjin. You hadn’t exchanged a single word since then and, frankly, you weren’t quite sure you wanted to ever speak to him again. You were embarrassed, far too embarrassed to acknowledge that you had kissed him. That you had wanted to drown in his sweetness, and in the way his lips had moved against yours.

You tsked, blinking a few times to chase the memory away. To focus on your blank page once again, and on words that had been avoiding you for days now. Since…

You scoffed, closing your laptop before sitting back in your chair, your head resting against it. 

You had been lying to yourself all those days, if you were being honest. Trying to convince yourself that you were angry at him, that you didn’t want him. You had never been a liar before, but it seemed Hwang Hyunjin brought that ugly part of you out. 

A part of you you didn’t think you had, but that had gained control of you when you had realized you were kissing him.

You wanted to hate him. Hate him for coming back like that and expecting them to be together. As if he hadn’t abandoned you for so long. It was unfair, really, that he expected you to be his after he had treated you like he had.

Why did you still want him so bad, then?

Seonwha had been furious, the last time you had spoken to her. Clearly, Hyunjin had told her everything, because she gave you the lecture of the century, calling you stupid and selfish.

You rather thought Hyunjin had been the selfish one. He hadn’t even considered the fact that you might just want to be his friend. He had…

You sighed deeply. You didn’t want to just be his friends. You didn’t think you wanted to be his either. That was why you hadn’t texted him yet.

You hated the effect that it had had on him. Because you had been unable to keep away from the idol part of him, and you had watched their two last shows online. Had seen him mess up a few choreographies. Had been able to see the hurt in his smiles, and in the way they never reached his eyes.

You knew him far too well for your own good.

You tapped your fingers on the back of the laptop, as you once again relived the kiss.

It had been the best goddamn kiss of your entire life, if you were being honest. And you doubted nothing would ever top that.

You had forgotten how to think, how to breathe, how to exist in that moment. All you had known was that there was him, and there was you, and you were two. Two souls, bound to be together. Bound together, lips sealing the deal. 

Maybe you never should have kissed him, because you weren’t quite sure you would ever feel the same again. As if it had made you realize that you were missing half of you, and that the only way to get it back was to be with him. Was to drink in the taste of him until you’d be drunk and old and grey, until eternity would set you apart, in infinite darkness.

You had always been a romantic, had become a writer because of it… but this was a next step. As if you hadn’t known about the love poets spoke about until that moment when your lips had touched. And really, you were aware of that. Were aware that he’d always be the better part of you, the sweet and loveable and kind part of you.

A part you were running away from, content in your own little misery. In that disgusting part of you that wanted him to hurt like he had hurt you. You knew it was wrong, because you knew he had been hurting too. You couldn’t imagine how you would have felt had the roles been reversed. Had he been the one dating someone toxic. Had you had to look at him slowly dwindling away to nothingness.

Though that was the part you couldn’t quite forgive him for. You had been dying, with Hangyeol. Had suffered more than you’d ever admit it to anyone. He had known it, all too well, and had chosen to leave without a single word. 

That silence… it had killed you, relentlessly. You had been forced to rebuild yourself, a little changed, and probably not in the right way. Though it had led to you breaking up with Hangyeol, if you were being honest.

Because, if you had had to choose between Hyunjin and Hangyeol, you would have chosen Hyunjin, no hesitation. 

You hadn’t thought that choice was going to be taken away from you, though. Hadn’t thought Hyunjin would ever walk out of your life… and now he had come back, and you were the one walking away.

You turned your head towards the sliding doors to your right, the city of Seoul coming into view. The sun was getting low in the sky, and you sighed once again. You hadn’t been productive at all today.

You got up from your spot, moving closer to the sliding doors, before stepping outside, the sounds of the city engulfing you. The balcony of your apartment overlooked a small plaza, and you looked down at it, watching people walking around, eating bungeoppang from the street vendor or just rushing to wherever they had to go.

It was strange how life seemed to be moving far too fast around you, when you were still stuck in that dorm kitchen, lips pressed against Hyunjin’s. As if time had stopped for you then, and you’d forever be stuck reliving the moments. Again and again, until you’d go crazy from it.

A breeze caught in your hair, and you shut your eyes, appreciating the warmth of the sun rays on your skin. 

Maybe you were being too harsh on him. Maybe…

Maybe you were meant to be together after all, and he wasn’t wrong. Maybe your timing had just always been off.

Then why did it still feel so wrong?

You stayed there for a while, a lot longer than you had first wanted to. Just letting the sound and smells of the city carry you through your thoughts, because really, there was no escaping.

The worst part was that you missed him, so much. Wanted to share with him every funny pictures that you saw on Instagram, wanted to hear him tell you about his days, wanted to see his smile and listen to his laugh…

Perhaps you had waited long enough. Perhaps you were two puzzle pieces that were meant to be together, and it was time you faced the truth. Running away from it wasn’t going to lead you anywhere good.

As if it finally clicked into place, you knew what you had to do. Though you had probably known it all along, and you had just been waiting for your stubbornness to give in to the feelings in your heart.

You walked inside, hands slightly clammy as you looked for your phone. Ignoring the voice in your head that was telling you not text Hyunjin. That was begging you to not be with him…

As if you were trying to punish yourself. 

Phone in hands, you just stood there for a moment, as realization hit you like a train.

Hyunjin deserved explanations, and some good ones at that.

*****

You sat in the couch, in that same spot you had been for the last hour. Hyunjin had replied to your text saying that he had a performance tonight, but that he could come over after, if you didn’t mind. And frankly, even if you knew you would be tired the next day, you couldn’t wait. Needed to set things straight between you, before he floated too far away for you to be able to reach him again.

Your television was turned on, a K-drama playing with the sound muted. You hadn’t been paying attention to it at all, and had just needed some sort of… company, as you were waiting for him. Because you couldn’t bare the darkness of your apartment.

Your eyes were lost in the void as you nibbled on the dry skin of your bottom lip, unable to focus on anything other than your racing heart. You didn’t even know what time it was, had stopped paying attention to the clock on the wall because time seemed to move so slow.

You couldn’t wait for him to arrive. Couldn’t wait to explain everything to him. Though you were anxious that it would be too little too late.

You startled as your phone started ringing next to you, indicating that someone was at the front door downstairs. Hyunjin.

You buzzed him in, your hands starting to shake as you got up to wait for him at the door. Fingers flickering, as the tick of the clock on the wall echoed every odd beat of your heart.

At this rate, you clearly were going to have a heart attack before Hyunjin was going to reach the door.

There was a slight hesitant knock on the door, and you quickly threw it open, to the sight of a slightly dishevelled and apprehensive Hyunjin. His eyes widened, mouth falling open, as you just looked at him standing there.

It was the five most awkward seconds of your entire life.

“Uh, come in”, you said, blushing as you realized you had been staring.

You moved to the side, blushing even more at the thought of him, in your apartment. The apartment in which you lived alone, with only a few plants to keep you company.

He walked in, staying a good distance away from you, as if he’d get burned if he touched you. He looked stiff, and he didn’t really hold your gaze, instead scanning the living room of your apartment with his gaze.

“Welcome to my… home”, you said, shutting the door behind him. “I… How was the concert?”

His eyes settled on you and you felt like a deer in headlights for a moment. Until he wet his lips and spoke. “You’ve finally decided to talk to me again?”

You gulped. Straight to the point it would be, then.

“Uh”, you let out. “I have an extra pair of slippers, if you want to come in. We can sit in the living room.”

A crease appeared between his brows, but he took off his shoes and put on the slippers, before following you to the couch.

You sat at the two extremities of it, a whole world between you.

“I… have been thinking”, you started, hands shaking. You hid their trembles by sitting on your hands, even if the position was somewhat awkward. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

He remained silent, only looking at you. Well, not quite, as he seemed to be looking at a spot right next to your face. You glanced at it, though there was nothing there.

“I… You mean a lot to me, Jinnie”, you continued. “We’ve been through a lot, and I guess I… was afraid to lose you?”

“Why would us kissing make you think that?” he asked, voice cold.

It took you by surprise, and all your resolve dissolved like some cotton candy in water.

“Because…” you trailed off. “We were best friends for years, and then I lost you. I don’t think I ever really allowed myself to realize just how bad it hurt to lose you.”

He scoffed. “You were the one dating that asshole.”

“You didn’t have to leave”, you said, your tone a little vehement too. “You could have talked to me.”

“I did, nuna. I told you what I thought about him and you still dated him.” He crossed his arms on his chest, slightly shaking his head. “It fucking sucked seeing you with him.”

“And I realize that now!” you quickly said, hoping to diffuse the fight that was starting to build up before it exploded. “I made some mistakes, and I’m sorry I did.”

Only silence met your words. He really wasn’t making that easy, wasn’t he?

“I think I panicked the other day because… you mean so, so much to me and I don’t even want to imagine a world in which I’d lose you again”, you said softly, looking away from him. “But at the same time, I’m pissed at myself for dating Hangyeol after you told me how you felt, and… and I don’t think I deserve you.” You blinked back a few tears. “I don’t deserve you, Hyunjin-ah. I don’t even understand why you still… want me like that after everything that happened. You deserve so much better than how I treated you…” You dried the tear that slipped out of your right eye with the back of your hand. “You deserve someone that’ll love you from the start, and that won’t torture you like I did.” You gulped, swallowing down the lump that had started forming in your throat. “I was selfish, to think that you were the one in the wrong. We both made mistakes, and… I guess I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness. Don’t think I deserve the kiss we...”

“I’ll stop you right there”, Hyunjin interrupted you, voice strained with emotions. “This is not about deserving each other.” You looked at him, heart breaking in your chest at the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks. “You don’t control who you fall in love with. And sometimes, people are meant to be lessons in each other’s life. Fuck’s sake, I thought you were a lesson for a long time. It hasn’t stopped me from feeling what I feel for you though.” He wiped his tears, chuckling, the sound bittersweet. “There wasn’t a day I wasn’t thinking about you, longing for you. But since that day I told you how I felt… it changed me. I couldn’t just be friends with you, and I had to get away.”

You nodded, vision blurred by a new wave of tears. 

“But fuck every day I thought of you. The boys helped me with it, and their friendship really helped through the pain of losing you, but the love remained. And when I saw you at Seonwha’s wedding… It took me back to the day I told you how I felt, and for a moment it was like not a second had passed. And I pictured myself living that moment again, with a happy ending instead.” He looked away, eyes focusing on the silent TV, as the credits of the K-drama rolled on the screen. “I’m rambling, sorry.”

“Don’t”, you quickly said. “Don’t apologize for telling me how you feel. It’s past time we tell each other how we feel.”

He smiled through his tears, wiping them away. 

“I’ve been in love with you all those years, Hyunjin-ah. Ever since that night at Seonwha’s birthday party.” Flashes of that night swirled in your thoughts as you reminisced the moment when you had told Hyunjin you loved him, and he had said he couldn’t be with you. “I’ve loved you every day and I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop”, he said. “I told you it’s not about who deserves who.”

“But it is though”, you insisted. “You… When you told me how you felt, I was scared. So fucking scared when I had been waiting to hear that for months. It pissed me off, though, because I knew it before. We both knew it.”

He nodded, meeting your gaze. 

“It’s always been you, Jinnie. Every moment of every day it’s been you. Even when I was with Hangyeol. Even more then. That night at the wedding… I saw a future with you. It scared me, and I panicked when we kissed last week but it was… the best kiss I’ve ever had. You are… so much. I can’t even say so much what… you are just so much… you.”

He chuckled, as he blinked back a few more tears.

“You’re everything that I want, that I’ve wanted, and I don’t deserve it.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because… I don’t know”, you said, shrugging as you too chuckled. “Because I’m young and dumb and afraid of commitment and afraid of getting hurt. And you’re… you’re an idol, you live in a complete different universe than I do.”

“I’m still the same.”

“You are. And that’s why I still feel like that about you.”

“Like what?” he asked, a teasing smile moving on his lips.

The sight of it made you feel like a rainbow had appeared in the storm of your life.

“Don’t make me repeat it”, you said, laughing lightly. “It’s… fuck why didn’t I tell you before?”

His face fell serious as he carefully watched you. “I didn’t think the timing was ever going to be right with you”, he admitted after a time. “Always thought that I would be forced to live my life knowing I’d let the one slip through my fingers.”

“I’m right here”, you said, voice filled with emotion. “I was really fucking dumb but I’m right here and I never want to leave again.”

“I won’t let you”, he teased you, as he reached out to grab your hand. And than seemed to be considering it for a time, before pulling you closer. Pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was the confirmation you needed. That he indeed was the one. That he was the love poets write poems about, and singers sing songs about. That he was the oxygen to your lungs, and the light in your darkest nights. 

It felt like coming home after a long journey. Head full of memories, heart full of feelings, but finally ready to settle down. To relax for a while, and to just enjoy being alive. Being there, in the moment. Not caring about the world. 

Just him and you. You and him. Intertwined on your couch in a dance of passion, lips against skin, skin against skin, breaths heavy with release and love and everything in between.

You felt free, like a bird soaring high in the sky, after years of being grounded. Like a kite in a summer wind, or a wave hitting the shore. 

It was an abundance of feelings you didn’t even know existed, yet felt just right.

He was just right. For you, that is. And you for him. Two souls, connected on a deeper level than you had ever thought possible, as if you finally knew the secrets to the universe. And maybe you did. Maybe he was the secret to your universe, and you to his. Maybe he was the rules of physics to which you responded, and you were the mathematics of his dreams.

When you were laying in your bed, somewhere between the hours of midnight and dawn, you took the time to look at him. Truly look at the boy you had always known – man now. And you knew. Knew that everything that had happened to you in life had happened for a reason. To lead you there, with him, to the place you were destined to find. Because the feelings in your heart… it was faith. You knew it. And instead of being afraid of it, as you had been at first, you welcomed it in with open arms.

Embraced it, really, because what else was there to do, when the love of your life was right next to you?

“What are you thinking about?” Hyunjin murmured, voice groggy with sleep.

Though you hadn’t really slept at all.

“You”, you whispered, nuzzling your face in his neck. The smell of him was almost enough to make you go crazy. “Us.”

“Look at you all cheesy”, he said, chuckling. The deep sound reverberated in his chest, and you smiled against his skin.

“I’m a hopeless romantic, what were you expecting?”

“Nothing less”, he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I wouldn’t want nothing less than that from you.”

You felt your cheeks burning, and you hid it by cuddling further into him.

“You know what?” Hyunjin said.

“Mmh?” you let out.

“I think I fell in love with you first.”

You chuckled. “Bullshit.”

“No, I’m serious”, he insisted. “The day we met. You were wearing the school uniform, and you had your hair tied back in a ponytail. You looked so cute and I couldn’t stop staring at you. That’s why I walked straight into you. I knew then that you were the one.”

“Why did you tell me you just wanted to be friends, then?” you asked, hand moving up so you could gently put behind his ear the strand of blond hair that was falling in his eyes.

“Because we were young”, he said, as if it explained anything. “I knew you were the kind of love I wouldn’t ever be able to walk away from. But I had this dream of being an idol… and I guess at the end of the day I was selfish, and took you for granted.”

“We both were selfish”, you whispered. “But we’re here now, and it’s all that matters.”

He smiled softly. “It is. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You blushed, giggling. “Who’s being cheesy now?”

He laughed, pulling you into his chest, hugging you tight against him. You put your head on his chest, right above his heart, and you listened to his heartbeat for a time, your own heart meeting the pace of his, as if they too had been in synch from the start.

“I love you”, Hyunjin said after a few more moments of silence. “Always have and always will.”

Warmth moved throughout your whole body, and you wondered if it was possible to be happier than you were then. You highly doubted so.

“I love you too.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

I hope you enjoyed!! I feel all fluffy rereading it, this couple was really fun to write. The way they are both hopeless for the other like🥺🥺

Let me know what you thought of the fic! Feedback is always appreciated

Love you all✌🏼

[rue-dixon]

Bro-in-law Dandan propaganda

Dandan playing both sides for his sister and Chilchuck.

Chilwife venting about Chilchuck to her brother. "He just never listens! He's so stubborn I'm tired of him!" while Dandan's just nodding and agreeing like "mhm yeah he just doesn't understand what you're doing through when he's gone at all."

Turn around now to Chilchuck, venting to his brother in law aka his closest childhood friend about the same argument. "She just doesn't even try understand how hard it is for me too." And Dandan is once again nodding his head agreeing, "of course not, she doesn't understand just how hard those jobs actually are."

Uncle Dandan, but the girls call him Uncle Dan/Danny. Who's also closest with Puckpatti. Meijack's a daddy's girl, Flertom a mamas girls, and Puckpatti's an uncles girl.

Chilwife bugging Dandan about not being married yet. And tires to get Chilchuck to agree with her and talk to him about it too. But Chilchuck is just like "let the kid do what he wants, he'll find someone eventually."

When he first saw his sister and Meijack after she just gave birth (him being a child) he said Meijack looked like a "wrinkly potato".

Dandan became a dungeon adventurer because of Chilchuck, who tired really really hard to talk him out of it. But Dandan said he didn't plan on going very deep and wanted to stick with treasure hunters instead of hardcore explorers so Chilchuck laid off finally.

"Chilchuck's like the older brother I never had!"

"I'd say Dandan is the little brother I never had, but I have two of them and they're both little shits just like him."

Dandan would always ask how his sisters and nieces were doing when him and Chilchuck would be working at the guild together. But always obviously had more interest in Puckpatti.

"How's my sister?

"She's fine"

"... and Puck?"

"She's fine too, as well as my OTHER girls."

"Right right.. I was just gonna ask about them next!"

Chilchuck and Dandan worked together to form the guild. Dandan taking care of things when Chilchuck was away or on very long jobs.

Chilchuck and Dandan poked at each other a lot as children. But became good friends as adults. Especially when Dandan was old enough to start drinking, Chilchuck was happy to have a new dedicated drinking buddy. They even stayed close after his wife left him, "she left me, not him." Little does Chilchuck know, she actually told her brother she was leaving and why she left. But he never told Chilchuck because she asked him not to.

Dandan making fun of his sister's situation, especially when he was younger. Even if he actually didn't care about them having shotgun wedding, he just thought it was funny.

"This wouldn't have happened if you just kept your legs closed."

"Only I get to call my sister a whore because it's funny. Anyone else who tries dies."

Uncle Dandan telling the girls crazy stories about their parents when they were younger. Stories that the two of them never wanted their kids to know.

Dandan: what's that?

Chilchuck: huh? Oh those are the brothels for adventurers.

Dandan: oh... you never used it did you?

Chilchuck: what? No! Why would you think I'd cheat on my wife?!

Dandan: just making sure...

Since Chilchuck wants to hide his family from work. He has to tell Dandan not to tell anyone that they're in laws. That they're just friends and that's it. And he'd prefer if he didn't bring up his sister or nieces in conversations. Dandan thought he was weird and got a little suspicious. But Chilchuck explained his reasoning and Dandan agreed, it didn't affect him much anyways.

Dandan: so, what are you and my sister fighting about now?

Chilchuck: what? Where did you get that idea from??

Dandan: you've been sleeping in the union quarters for three days straight. So what's she mad at you for this time?

Chilchuck: ...

He's a built in babysitter even if he kinda hates it. But he loves his nieces so it's ok.

When they were estranged he fully believed they'd get back together and wasn't worried about them getting an official divorce at all. And just waved it off every time he was asked about it.

"You kidding? They couldn't keep their hands off each other when we were kids. Practically inseparable. I'm sure they'll talk, realize how much they miss each other, have makeup sex and then go on like none of this ever happened."

Anyways why'd they make him so cute in the anime tf

[jacquesthepigeon]

I have personally seen cases where kids grow up as complete strangers to their heritage especially as is the case with my own cousin in California but that involved multiple factors

1) My aunt was isolated and practically estranged from boricua communities. There is a large latino population in California, yes, but it’s mostly Mexican, not a problem, but it’s drastically different from boricua culture. I cannot describe to you how sad it was to see her express relief at being around her people during holidays for the first time in over a decade.

2) Assimilation and shame was heavily encouraged. My aunt’s MIL, from Mexico, went as far as having her name legally changed to its English equivalent. Over the years since my aunt’s move to the states, there have been multiple incidents where she drastically exaggerated the state of the country and our living conditions (all way before the infrastructure, particularly electricity services, got noticeably Bad) based on sensationalist news articles. It got to the point where she called all of us “idiots” for staying.

Bringing it back to ML

According to a 2019 census, there were 71,500 parisians who reported being born in China, a figure that doesn’t account for descendants of chinese immigrants. That is a far cry from leaving Sabine isolated from her culture. She has ample resources to find and participate in a community of fellow chinese immigrants within the city.

In regards to assimilation and shame, just look at her fucking design and hobbies holy shit. It clearly doesn’t apply to her. As for her english (french?) name, it is a fairly common practice for people from various asian countries to adopt an english name. I’ve seen multiple explanations for this ranging from confucian self naming practices being influenced by exposure to western cultures all the way to workplace culture and convenience. In Sabine’s case, because her chinese name is so similar to her western name, I imagine it’s simply a matter of avoiding the headache of constantly correcting people on the spelling and pronunciation of her chinese name. It sucks that it’s something so many immigrants and even tourists have to do to be addressed respectfully but that’s also worth exploring within the narrative.

Which brings me to why it’s important that we recognize the crew’s intentions and POV when discussing how these characters and dynamics are written. They’re not considering any of these and countless other factors that affect how immigrants and their children interact with their own heritage. They want to be praised and lauded for being “inclusive” and “diverse” simply for commodifying a cultural aesthetic. They have no real concern for the people they’re profiting from or their lives and complexities.

So let’s assume for a moment that despite not being affected by any of the factors that I mentioned influenced my own aunt’s lack of educating my cousin about her culture, that’s still an issue that should be addressed specifically in regards to Sabine’s decisions in raising Marinette rather than pushing the blame onto Marinette for “not expressing interest” and learning on her own. The last few times my cousin has come to visit, we do our best to accommodate her and make her as comfortable as possible but when she inevitably lets it show that she is uncomfortable and would prefer to step away from the situation, my aunt has the nerve to shame her for not liking or participating in her culture. I assure you, my aunt was the only one blaming my cousin as we were all silently judging my aunt as she’s obviously the one responsible for it getting to this point, as we have been doing ever since we knew she wasn’t teaching my cousin spanish. So assuming this is the case with Sabine and Marinette, where Sabine had the means to teach Marinette at the very least the basics, and now Sabine is somewhat resentful of Marinette not figuring it out on her own, that is something that definitely needs to be addressed with close attention and care.

But they won’t.

Sabine is not a chinese immigrant in the interest of other chinese immigrants

Marinette is not a white-passing diaspora child in the interest of other white-passing diaspora children

There is no diversity or representation in this show that isn’t meant to turn them into props to make white men look better, be they fictional or real

That is the issue, not the existence of borderline caricature-esque immigrants or white-passing POC in the real world possibly getting representation. It’s not about them, never has been.

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 09

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

I went downstairs to see two of my estranged roommates, Allison and Luther with somber looks on their faces. I was about to speak up but stopped once I saw who they were looking at. It was Grace, who no longer moved or sang or comforted us.

She was dead, and I know robots aren’t alive but this felt like another death I'd have to witness.

“The two guys last night, the ones with the mask, did this to her,” Allison said to Luther. The two didn't look up to see me, both were in their heads at the death of their mother.

Grace was sitting in the painting room chair, the space we kids dubbed as her bedroom because she didn’t sleep or have one of her own. The only thing that was missing from her was her signature smile and her normal pale arm. Instead, her arm was sliced open by what looked like a knife and oozed out wires of all different colors.

I don’t remember the two gunmen carrying knives last night but who knows they could've gotten crafty. But It's sad to think If she was a real person, I would’ve been able to save her.

I made my presence known by stomping my shoe and moving closer to the pair. Allison's eyes slightly lit up once she saw me. “You’re okay!” She sighed happily.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I giggled with my arms open as she ran over to embrace me. Luther did not move from Grace's body though, his face was cold and distant. I didn't want to ask but I started to think, what happened last night?

“Oh god, have you seen Mom yet?” She whispered. “This has to do with Five somehow. I mean they were looking for him..”

I frowned. “I haven't seen him or Klaus in some time now and I'm starting to get nervous.”

Allison reassures me that they'll turn up but she turns back to Luther who has something to say. “I know I was arguing to turn Grace off, but it doesn't make seeing her like this any easier.”

“Poor Diego.” I blurt out. “This is gonna be so hard for him.” I couldn’t see eye to eye with him, like ever. But I did see him a bit differently after yesterday.

“Yeah, it's hard on all of us.” He says while walking out of Grace's room.

“Hey, wait,” I called out to Luther before he left. The giant man turns to look at me, uncertainly. “I know it was you last night, the one who saved me. I just want to say thank you for pulling that guy away from me.”

“You’ve saved me in my lifetime more times than I can count. I can tell something is off about you guys today and I don’t think I was awake to hear it but. I just wanted to say thanks.” I smile at him.

“But anyways you guys should talk. I'm going to go look for Klaus.” I shoot Allison one more goodbye before heading out.

“I'm glad you're okay, Y/n” I hear one of them mutter as I leave.

..

“Klaus?” I yell all around the mansion. By now I've checked all his normal spots. His room, my room, Ben’s room, the kitchen, Reginald’s bar, all the bathrooms and all the random nooks and crannies we'd hide in as children with Ben.

Ben.. to think I've been so preoccupied these past days to think about him. And I think about him all the time. He'd know where Klaus was instantly, he was just that type of person.

I go back upstairs to my room to change before heading outside. To check Klaus's frequent spots around town.

First, the alley where he'd buy drugs and all kinds of things. It was dingy and dark but I'd find him here a lot back when I was younger. I left the mansion but never left him. Even let him crash with me at my ex's house whenever he needed to, which my ex was never happy about. We found happiness in walking the streets and laughing with each other till sunrise.

But it wasn't always good, sometimes I'd catch him in a rough spot due to drugs and he'd push me away. I never stopped trying, I would never give up on him and he wouldn't if i was in his spot.

Next was my actual apartment. I hadn't been back in forever, maybe he got tired of the academy and came here? But my apartment was small and didn't have many places for him to hide, it was clear he wasn't there either.

The last place I could think of was a park we used to go to as kids. There'd be days when Reginald was less diligent about watching us, and after dark all of us kids would escape to come here. And have at least a few hours of solace before returning to hell.

I took a seat against a large tree that blocked the sunlight from shining in the park. He wasn't anywhere I'd known he would be. I thought he wouldn't leave town without telling me, but I'm not even sure. I let out small huffs of frustration as I buried my head in my hands.

Suddenly there were more tears on my head than there were in my eyes. I sniffle while looking up. The once-cloudy sky has turned into pouring rain and I'm outside without an umbrella.

..

14 YEARS AGO

“Are we ready to go?” Asked Klaus.

The three of us, Klaus, Ben and I decided we were leaving for the park. After a particularly hard day and mission, it was clear I needed out. Ben asked everyone if they wanted to go, but they all looked at each other then us and snickered.

They told us we should go just the two of us. We actually were about to leave, but Klaus was the only one stupid enough to join us. Just kidding.

The sky was clear this day but dark, meaning it was a clear indication that it was time. Diego and Allison told us they'd distract Reginald if he asked anything. We knew we couldn't go out the front door, instead we went out my window.

Klaus was the first one to jump down; he insisted that he was the bravest out of all of us. And Ben slowly followed after him.

That left me in the window, looking down at the very tall jump I'd have to land. I shook my head at the two. “Why couldn't we have left down Five's window? There are actual steps there!” I whisper yell.

Klaus chuckles. “We're already here, just jump!”

I know when jumping from a high distance without a cushion landing spot, it would help if you didn't look down. But my eyes were glued to the ground anyway. I would be fine if I jumped, any scars would go away but just the thought of it made me shake.

“Unless you're a chicken! That's okay, me and Benny will go without you.” He yells.

“Keep your voice down,” Ben says, elbowing him in the stomach. “Ow!” Klaus cries. Ben looks up at me. “But he's got the right idea! You'll be okay just jump.” He says stuffing his hands in his black jacket.

“Just go without me! I'll go to bed.” I reply, trying to smile at the pair.

“Y/n, listen to me. You'll be okay, jump and..” I didn't hear the last part of what he said.

“What??!” I yell.

“He said he's gonna catch you!” Klaus snickers. “Shut up Klaus,” Ben whispers back. “I will though, if I have to!”

I sigh not wanting to ruin their fun, I'm the one who wanted to go out anyway. “Okay, I'll jump.”

I take a small running start before leaping out of my large window. The wind in my hair felt great, it made me feel like I was almost flying. Until I looked down at the floor I was about to land on. I closed my eyes as I was about to scream and go head-first into the ground. But as I opened my eyes I saw that the cement never smacked me in the face. Instead, I land on someone else.

Ben tried his best but he is still a boy. He held his arms open but it ended with him knocking into the cement and me gripping onto his black hoodie for dear life. I quickly get off him and pull him to his feet as Klaus hollers in laughter at us.

Once he got up I could tell that Ben's head looked a little bruised as well as his hands. I placed my hands on his and watched as yellow wisps of light reached all of his bruises. "Thanks." He smiled and I nodded back. I stopped holding his hands when I heard Klaus almost falling back in laughter.

"You guys-" I cut him off before he embarrasses me by kicking him in the shins with all my might. "Not another word," I mutter.

He held onto his legs and whimpered in pain, now it was our turn to laugh at him on the way to the park. I did eventually heal him that day but seeing him embarrassed was too funny to see go away. We did this several more times, just the three of us. And honestly, it was probably more fun than the whole group.

..

PRESENT DAY

I laugh underneath the now suddenly wilting tree at the thought, but it slowly turns into sobs. I don't have Ben anymore but I've somewhat come to understand that, but now I lost Klaus too. And Vanya is gone, I'm truly all alone. I sit there for what I think is hours, thinking back. Until the constant pour turns into drizzling and I stand up to go back to the academy. Maybe take a bath.

I slowly made it to a crosswalk so lost in thought that I didn't even see that it said I can go. But I am brought back to reality by the sound of a honking car. Some dick in a van was honking his horn at me?

What I did to piss this guy off I do not know, this was above even a catcall. He was demanding I move. Deciding to ignore the shithead I start to cross the road, until he almost runs me over.

“There's a crosswalk sign, do you see that?” I yell at the van. But the ugly vehicle would not stop honking at me, after being soaked in the rain I'm starting to lose my sanity. So I walked over to the van, thinking I was going to lay into this man and give him all the rage I'd been feeling. And maybe kick his car a few times.

I look at the man's window to see it's not a man at all. It's a boy? I know this shithead. “Five? Why are you honking at me!” I scream at the pubescent boy.

“Get in.” He yells back.

..

The two of us sat in silence for a while. I watched this fake teenager drive around and honk at people who were being stupid like a full-grown adult.

“Why are you here?” I ask, feeling uncomfortable in my wet clothes. “I'm looking for someone, I saw you walking.” He mutters.

“Oh okay..” I pause.

“I was calling your name before I started honking at you. You should really look where you're going.”

“I was fine. Aren't you the one who tried to run me over?”

“...”

“I have a question. Where'd you steal this van?”

“I didn't steal it, I borrowed it from a man in an alley.” he insisted. “Very likely story Five,” I remark back.

“I'm going to give it back. whenever I'm done with it.

“Okay new question, how do you know how to drive?”

“I can do everything.”

I scoff. “Yeah okay.”

“Well, I have a question for you. Why are you walking alone without an umbrella?”

“Just for shits and giggles, I'm looking for Klaus, have you seen him?”

“Can't say that I have. Where do you want me to drop you off?” He says while taking a familiar path that will lead us back to the academy.

I turn to look at him with my eyebrows furrowed. “Can't I stay? Join you on your spy missions?” Five looks at me, clearly not keeping his eyes on the road. Almost in shock about me wanting to stay with him. To break the silence I force a cough. “I mean I don't know what else to do right now. I can leave If I'm cramping your style.”

“Okay” is all he says while turning in the opposite direction from the mansion. “Well, that means we are going to find someone.”

“Who?” I ask.

“You'll see,” Five tells me.

Five parked us in another familiar part of town, where Klaus, him and I were not even a day or two ago. “Oh no, Five we're gonna terrorize these people again?” I said while looking around.

“No, we're just going after the main man. I need more answers.” Five peers out the side window to look at a different busy street.

“You really think he's going to give you more information if you just barge into his office again?”

He turns back to me. “We're not going in, we're going to him.”

“Oh my god..”

Five explains that he plans to corner the man in his own car after he comes back from whatever hobby he does while out of the office. I try to tell him that this plan is going to go wrong but of course he doesn't listen. He reached into his glove compartment and grabbed a small pocket knife, and I'm sure he didn't just grab it to look cool.

“You told me you're going to ask for more information, Five,” I questioned while reaching for the knife.

He grabs the weapon back and holds it higher in the air. “Let's see where the night takes us.”

..

Five blinks him and I next to a tree, like the one I was at earlier. The tree faces a blue car that must've belonged to the guy whose name slipped my mind.

Not long after he walks toward us, with a tiny puppy in hand. He looked almost unrecognizable out of his lab coat, but not in a good way. His clothes reminded me of a jogging outfit they also matched his blue car.

He opens the car and places his puppy into the back seat then he starts to get into the car himself. Before he can sit down Five pulls me with him when he blinks into the car. Sitting me down in the backseat with the puppy who surprisingly is not barking at me yet.

Five blinks into the front seat, but the man doesn't even notice him. Only flinching back when Five lunges at him with his pocket knife.

“Oh, Jesus!” He cries out. Five doesn't even give him another moment to think before going straight into grilling. “One chance. That's all you got. One chance to tell me exactly what's going on in that lab.” He yells, putting the knife up to the man's throat.

So much for the peaceful approach. The man moves his eyes towards me for a split second and then back to the terrifying Five. “I… I manufacture prosthetic devices for fake patients. I bill the insurance companies and then sell them for cash on the black market.” He stutters.

“including eyeballs?” Five asked.

The man gulps. “Yeah, they're my biggest seller. I mean they sell like hotcakes. I--I've got a list, a waiting list, probably twenty buyers.”

“So the serial number, my uh, brother gave you..” He finishes my sentence. “Could've already been bought. Yes, off– off the books.” He says.

Five huffs like he's a chain smoker and starts to get more tense, letting the knife get centimeters away from the man's skin.

“I needed that list, Lance. Names and numbers, and I need it now!” Five screeches.

I take my eyes off them to turn to the dog that's nearing closer to me. At first, I tried to keep my distance but this puppy insisted on getting close. Which shouldn't be a big problem. It's a small dog, but something was off. I'm squeezing myself practically against the door to get away from this dog but he keeps getting closer. I close my eyes and I'm back to that day so many years ago.

I'm not there anymore, it's time for me to move on but I can't. My hands start to shake and my body runs cold. I couldn't help but think that this dog knew what I did to the other, way back when and wanted to take revenge.

While taking deep breaths I turned my head slowly to get a better look at the pup.. this dog wasn't going to hurt me, it didn't know what I did, and I was okay. So why do I feel like this?

“I don't have it. I mean, not on me. The only copy is in my safe at the lab.” Lance's words break my deep breaths and I try once again to focus on their conversation. This is for Five, as well as saving the world. Letting my depressing nature go is what I need to do now.

“Well, you start the car, then.” Five whispers. “Cause we're going on a field trip.” He slowly takes the knife off Lance's throat.

“O-Okay...” Lance tries to put himself back together at least enough to put his seatbelt on.

“Now.”

“Okay..”

..

Lance drives us back to the MeriTech headquarters which is also where Five’s van is. I'm the first to hop out of the car with Five and Lance a few steps behind me.

But I stopped in place once I saw dark smoke coming from the building. “Something’s wrong,” I told five. But he never stopped walking, and without a second thought, he rushed over to the fire. “Five wait!” I called out while chasing him down. Leaving Lance to his own devices.

The angry flames weren’t just in one room, it had spread throughout every single room in the building making it impossible to go inside. Five stopped at the entrance of the building when I caught up with him. We both stared at the building on fire.

“Get down!” I screamed over the sound of burning rooms as I tackled him to the ground. The flames rose from not just the building but towards us, causing an explosion of fire that could’ve killed him.

He wailed out at the sudden burst, but safely hit the ground. Me on the other hand, I was covered in marks. But thankfully my clothes were no longer wet, just slowly catching on fire. I dragged him out of the way more towards the street as I heard sirens in the distance.

“We need to move now,” I stress to Five but he doesn’t reply back. His eyes never break from the fire. “I know, I know but let’s go,” I say again hoping he would budge this time. But he didn't, so I grabbed him and pulled him back over to the van.

Once we get to the van without Lance, it is clear that whoever had lit the building on fire knew we were there. And I knew that because the front window was fogged with a message.

It read. “Your brother says hi.. brother? Which one.” I say out loud while thinking. Five finally started to move from his motionless state when I looked over at him. But he wouldn't be any help right now. The look on his face and the dullness in his eyes was a look I've seen on many people's faces before.

But then it hit me. “Klaus.”

…

Would you wanna be on a taglist for this story? Say taglist in comments

[bengiyo]

I’ve just finished my rewatch of Go Ahead, a cdrama you will probably never watch because it’s het and mostly about family trauma. But it’s one of my all time favs and one of the best things about it is the strong found family theme—it’s essentially about three broken families and how they join together as one to support each other. It got me thinking about my fav found family narratives, and especially those that are explicitly queer, because there’s often added life or death stakes in those stories. What are your favorite found family stories in queer media?

This is an interesting question, and I think you qualified appropriately right away by bringing up the life or death stakes of this kind of narrative. I think I want to make a distinction between "finding your people" and "found family" because I think these things often get blurred in romance stories.

Favorite Queer Found Family Stories

For me, a good found family story has to be about the found family component of it. Romance can be a significant portion of the story, but the primary driving relationships need to be about the queers being each other's primary network. I think estrangement from your bio family is a critical component, because knowing you are all each other has is a big part of it.

POSE (2018-2021)

It's really impossible to establish what found family looks like without referring to a show about ballroom culture in NYC in the 90s. We were dying. We were being abandoned. The houses gave people a place to be and a sense of purpose. These kids called their leaders Mother for a reason. Every single queer character in this show was saved by another character in this show before going onto save another character in this show. No show has ever done it like POSE.

Despite their fighting and bickering, Elektra saved Blanca. Blanca would go on to form her own house and provide shelter and support for multiple kids. There is a desperation to queer found family for me that makes it so important. Pray Tell's final choices still resonate with me to this day.

Queer as Folk (2000-2005)

We remember all of the fucking in this show, but this is another show where the queers are their primary support network. Their families aren't really there for them. Justin is kicked out of the house and lives with Debbie for a while, and is nursed by his community after being bashed. Michael and Ben adopt Hunter. Brian donates for Lindsey and Melanie. Debbie housed Brian in the past. Emmett's family disowned him, so his friends are all he's got. The community rallies constantly to protect each other.

Part of what makes this show so special as found family, like with POSE, is how often these folks piss each other off and get into huge fights. They fall out repeatedly in this show over fundamental disagreements that are not easily solved. Some of those fights are ugly in a way only people who know you best can hurt you.

The Fosters (2013-2018)

There's no way I'm not including my favorite TV lesbians of all time raising all them kids on this post. These two public servants found each other, made the difficult choices to be together, and keep expanding their family with more fosters and adoptees over time because there's always more love to go around. This show tackled how important it is to be able to call people family, and what it means for that to be a choice over an obligation. These two always found a way to make it work for their complex family and gave a budding queer the space to grow and be a brat of a teenager after saving him from having the shit beaten out of him for wearing a dress.

Sense8 (2015-2018)

From the directors of The Matrix (1999) and the creator of Babylon 5 (1993-1998), few shows are as queer as Sense8. Eight strangers suddenly become connected to each other and cannot turn it off. Half of them are queer in some way, and it's about their adaptation to each other and looking out for each other as they're literally being hunted. This is one of my favorite sci-fi concepts of all time, and I love the way their relationships outside of their cluster play into their dynamics.

She Loves to Cook, and She Loves to Eat (2022- )

This is a recent favorite for this, particularly because of Season 2. In Season 1, we know that Nomoto puts a distance between herself and her family because of the pressure to become a wife. In season 2, we learn that Kasuga has severed ties with her family because of the expectation that she surrender her own life to take care of her family. When she tells Nomoto this, Nomoto gets angry on Kasuga's behalf and they decide to commit to living together. They are also building their community around them, and I better see everyone in their new apartment in season 3.

Gameboys 2 (2022)

So much of what's going wrong for Gav in this season is that he doesn't feel connected to the rest of his bio family after his grandmother passed, and he's desperately holding onto all of the friendships he has because he's so lonely. It's why he's still close with both of his exes (Pearl and Terrence), and why he won't let them go. Also, he's falling apart and Pearl is the one making sure his bills get paid on time.

The Shape of Water (2017)

Shout out to my man Doug Jones for always playing creatures that everyone is attracted to. The way this movie is so much about undesirables choosing to love each other and saving each other. Go watch it if you haven't. This film is not about a sexual awakening. It's about loving inside of a white capitalist structure.

Not Queer But Good

Shout outs for my faves. Some have queer characters in them, but aren't inherently or explicitly queer.

The Golden Girls (1985-1992)

No one did it like them. A bunch of aging women living together and making the most of their lives still resonates almost 40 years later.

Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005-2008)

All of these kids are estranged from their families, and are building out something that works over the course of the show.

The Good Place (2016-2020)

I really love that this is a show about people who didn't get it together in life getting it together in the afterlife because they decided to work together, and then to care about each other. When you're literally being tortured by devils, you're all you've got.

What Doesn't Fit?

This is where things can get a little bit wiggly, but why I want to draw a line on this. I think that shows about queer friendship are important, but I also think that there's a difference between "we are all we've got" and "these people are the most important to me." So we end up with shows like the following.

Noah's Arc (2005-2006)

I often call this the Black answer to Queer as Folk, but I don't think it had time to fully-develop the found family themes in a way that QaF did with its much-longer runtime. Noah and his friends are super codependent and absolutely there for each other, but I don't think the absence of their families is explicitly attributed to their queerness but rather a byproduct of the focus on their gay life dynamics in LA. I love this show dearly, but there isn't a desperation to this that belies the family angst necessary for found family.

For The Boys (2021)

In many ways a spiritual successor to Noah's Arc, this show falls into the same place. The friend trio at the core of this is the most important relationship in their lives, but this show doesn't have the necessary found family angst.

What about QL?

For me, the biggest problem with doing found family in QL is that the primary genre is romance. These shows prioritize the way these relationships will turn romantic in a way that detracts from the found family component even when it's present. Also, because QL focuses so hard on coming of age plotlines, there's an element more of "finding your people" that supercedes any found family dynamics.

I Promised You the Moon (2021) is a good example of this. The primary drama of this show is about the romance between Teh and Oh-aew and the complications they face once they leave Phuket. Oh finds his people there and blossoms from it, but this is a story about how he and Teh can't get over each other.

As much as I love What Did You Eat Yesterday? (2019- ), the only real component of that is in Wataru's character. Kenji gets along with his mom and sisters, and Shiro is working on repairing the relationship with his family the entire time.

With Thai BL especially, I feel like they're big on friend groups, but not as big on found family. New Siwaj loves big friend groups that love each other, evinced by Love Sick (2014-2015), Make It Right (2016-2017), Until We Meet Again (2019), EN of Love (202), My Only 12% (2022), etc. He's done some great work in the space with queer friends, but not really queer found family.

Cheewin, a former collaborator of New's, also loves friend groups that have each other's backs. Probably his best example of that is Secret Crush On You (2022) with that friend quartet. The closest I think he came to found family was Uea in Bed Friend.

Another example that comes close is the unit that forms on their road trip in The End of the World With You (2023). I often think about this group of queers and the kid they adopted screaming to the heavens that they want to live.

Something I love, but which doesn't count for me is Our Dining Table (2023). There are powerful family dynamics here, but like in WDYEY they're adding Yutaka to their family and Yutaka reconciles with his adoptive family. I don't generally think that adding a romantic partner to your family counts as found family. Besides, Yutaka has a stable job and housing.

Final Thoughts

For me, the stakes are pretty high with queer found family, and it really needs to have a queer basis for me to feel strongly about it. Going back to their bio family is not an option, and often times the terms we use for traditional relationships don't always fit properly (yet another reason why Unknown got so much right). I don't think it's queer found family when they're students in college whose families just aren't around because they're paying for their kids to go to school. Finding your queer community as an adult is a huge part of growing up, but a queer found family is there for the really ugly and desperate parts of existence that your friends might not see.

[livwritesstuff]

If you need incentive to write the 04 scene of Steve’s mom meeting Eddie, Moe, and Robbie, this is it. The image of Steve stepping in front of them??????? Astounding and I am all but begging you to share what was said — if, of course, you feel the inspiration and need that extra push to write it :)

truly anything for you

tbh this is basically an extension of the last part of this

“–Also, my mom is here.”

“What?” Eddie yelps, which, yeah, fair enough, all things considered. Steve’s been estranged from his parents for over a decade now, so it’s only natural for Eddie to be completely shocked finding out that his mom is here, in their home. 

“Well…y’know, I invited them,” Steve replies as he shifts the way he’s holding their eight-month-old daughter Robbie. 

It’s true – he had invited his parents to the party that he and Eddie are throwing today to celebrate…they’re celebrating a lot of shit, actually, because they’d had a pretty wild few months, but he’s invited them to all the important things over the years.

Before Eddie can respond, Moe wanders over and tugs on the hem of Eddie’s shirt as she says, “Daddy, look at ‘dis, Auntie Robin put a flower in my hair.”

“I mean yeah, duh, Steve,” Eddie finally says as he absently picks up Moe (being mindful of the daisy tucked behind her ear, of course), “I mean, you always…Steve, she’s here?”

“Yeah, she-uh, I dunno. She showed up. We – I sorta yelled at her, I think…”

Steve trails off as his eye catches on a familiar figure hovering by the front door – his mom, he knows, even with her back to him. She must feel his eyes on her, because she turns in their direction, and by then Eddie had realized that something was pulling Steve’s attention so he’s turning too, and then Steve’s mom and Eddie are standing face to face, and alarm bells are going off inside Steve’s head that he can’t really explain, but before he can dwell on it, he finds himself slipping into an old tendency to just blindly act, to protect the people he loves before all else. 

Steve takes a step forward.

Where before he’d been standing in line with Eddie, Steve steps forward, meets his mother with a steady gaze as he puts himself between her and his family.

His mother isn’t blind to this. Steve can see on her face the way she recognizes that step forward for what it was, because he’s got one foot planted firmly between Eddie’s own, and his shoulder is blocking Moe from view completely, and he’s angling himself in a way directs Robbie away too even if doing so hadn’t been a conscious decision, because it all makes crystal clear the kind of threat that Steve perceives his mom to be.

She blinks at him, lips slightly parted, and for a moment Steve finds himself feeling a little bad for her – but only for a moment, because she made her choices just like Steve’s father did, and now they all have to live with them.

Steve lives with those choices every day by being the parent he had needed as a child, and right now that means standing between the parents he did have and the family he has now

“Steve, I–” his mom starts, “I need to be going, but…I’d like to be introduced to your…if you’ll let me.”

She’s looking at Robbie (trying to, anyway), and it makes Steve wonder if she’d even be here today if he hadn’t sent his mother a card back in the spring of ‘02 announcing the adoption of Moe, if he hadn’t spent the years since then sending her updates about his kids. She wonders if she would have shown up at all if it was just him and Eddie.

Steve loves his kids with a kind of love he had never experienced before, but the same is true for Eddie. Sure, it’s a different kind of love, but no less big and no less important. There’s no way in hell Steve will be allowing his mother to pick and choose which parts of his life she gets to participate in. If she wants to know the girls, she goes through Eddie first. Non-negotiable.

Before Steve can say as much, Eddie adjusts his hold on Moe (still keeping her behind Steve, he notices) to free up a hand and hold it outstretched.

“Ed,” he says, and he follows it with, “Steve’s husband,” and Steve can hear the shit-eating grin on Eddie’s face without even needing to look, and he knows that he’s smiling too because he always does when Eddie calls himself Steve’s husband. Then he adds, “Can’t believe we’ve gone this long without an introduction.”

Steve’s mother introduces herself and shakes his hand (though she doesn’t seem to have anything to say to his second comment, Steve notes).

Satisfied (because, frankly, Steve couldn’t really have asked for anything more, all things considered), he finally shifts to the side to introduce his daughters.

“This is Moe,” he says, “Wanna say hi, Moe?”

But Moe has suddenly gone uncharacteristically shy (or maybe she senses the tension and is wisely choosing the side that’s kept her snuggled and fed her entire life – she’s smart like that), tucking her face away in the safety of Eddie’s shoulder. 

Steve watches as Eddie murmurs something in her ear, watches Moe nod even as her little arms twine a little tighter around his neck.

She raises her head and gives a cautious, “Hi,” (with maybe a bit more side-eye than necessary, but…whatever. Moe is who she is).

“Hello,” his mom replies, with a kind of smile on her face that Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen before (a real smile, maybe, but he won’t dwell on that). She gives Robbie a little wave, “And who’s this?”

“This is Robbie,” Steve says, running a hand over her curls, “Can you say hi, Beans?”

Robbie only blinks her big blue eyes, one of her little hands clenched around a bit of Steve’s hair at the nape of his neck.

“How ‘bout a wave?” he suggests, mimicking a wave for his youngest daughter, who parrots the motion in his mom’s direction.

“How old is she, again?” she asks as Steve presses a kiss onto Robbie’s chubby cheek. He knows he already told his mother this but, in fairness, it certainly wasn’t the most memorable part of their contentious conversation not too long earlier.

“Eight months last week,” Eddie answers proudly. He looks at Moe again, “And how old are you, bug? Are you…” he pauses, pretending to think. He looks at Steve, “I think she’s only two, right?”

“Oh, definitely,” Steve nods, pretending to be serious, “Definitely two more than anything else.”

“No-o, I’m more three!” she argues, her little brow furrowing (Steve knew it would – with Moe’s third birthday only a few weeks away, they’ve had many a conversation about how Moe thinks she deserves three-year-old privileges because she’s “more three than two”).

“That’s right, you turn three soon,” Eddie nods, “And we’re gonna throw a…what kind of party?”

“A butterfly party,” Moe finishes.

Steve looks back at his mom.

“You’re welcome to come, you know,” he says, and beside him, Eddie shifts a bit closer, his shoe nudging up against Steve’s, “Y’know, if you’re around. I can send you the info.”

He already sent it. He knows he already sent it, but if this is his mom’s way of extending her own olive branch, of taking the first steps in restoring the relationship with her son, he’ll send it again.

“Sure,” she replies, running a manicured hand through her hair, “We’ll…well, you know your father and his schedule – I’d thought he would have considered retiring by now but…” she pauses, then shakes her head, “Yes, I’d like the details.”

Steve nods, makes a mental note to send his mom the information (because, despite his defensiveness, he really does want her to be a part of his life, his kids’ and husband’s lives too).

She takes her leave only a minute or two later, and when she does, Eddie turns to face him.

“Holy shit, Steve,” he says, wide-eyed.

“I know,” he replies, slowly shaking his head.

“Dude, that was crazy, and we’re definitely gonna have to debrief on whatever the hell you guys talked about earlier, but can I just say you got so fuckin’ lucky that Robin didn’t realize she was here.”

Before Steve can respond, he hears an ominous voice behind him say, “Robin didn’t realize who was here?"

[lets-try-some-writing]

Humanformers Unicron being former mafia boss 👀.. Unicron gets babytrapped by the goverment

Unicron: Whoever told you that child is mine is a liar. They must've mistaken me for my brother.. You see He is the lady man that ends up with his flings throwing kids at him.: I never slept with anyone outside or in my.. Job. And i was never drunk.

?: What about morphine? Being mafia boss is dangerous and surely resulted in some injuries.. That lead to someone using y-

Unicron: She is not mine.

?? :Good we took samples then. We can confirm that she is yours

Unicron: You-

? :She has no other relatives to take her in. Consider her as something that keeps you from going to prison. We will also give you a parole officer. Better watch yourself Mr Reaper

Unicron: ...Very well then

It was a surprise to literally everyone, but Earth (Or Terra), according to DNA tests, was indeed Unicrons. No one knew how she was actually conceived since Unicron hadn't been with anyone. Unicron certainly didn't believe she was his, but he took her in anyway. No use letting a baby die. He had hoped that his brother would never catch wind of the whole affair considering their estrangement and Primus's health issues. But Primus found out anyway, most likely through one of his illegitimate children. And so against everyone else's better judgement, Primus sent his youngest legitimate son over to give Unicron a congratulations gift. Poor Optimus was given no peace as he was coerced into child care on Unicron's behalf.

Optimus didn't actually like Unicron and still doesn't, but he keeps coming back of his own free will as a sort of pseudo CPS just to be sure Unicron is actually parenting. He is fondly regarded as "Mr. Thirteen" by young Terra since Unicron refuses to call him by his name and instead refers to him by his number. Optimus is not fond of it, but he tolerates it for his young cousin's sake.

Unicron may or may not scare the ever living scrap out of Optimus and the government in more than a few ways with the things he teaches Terra. An ex-Mafia boss has enemies, and he can't have his unofficial heir getting wrapped up into any of it. Terra being trained in the correct way to swiftly kill a man? Self defense obviously. She's a young woman in a world filled with creeps. Terra being taught the art of skirting the law? Unicron is just making sure she is ready for the hassle that is taxes and lawsuits. Terra being very VERY familiar with Unicron's old associates? What on earth are you talking about? She's just visiting some of her aunts and uncles.

Terra suspects nothing. The government is nervous but largely fine so long as Pluto is keeping a vague eye on the situation. Optimus is stressed. He's a dad too and Unicron's method of throwing Terra into the deep end of the pool to see if she swims or drowns in all aspects of life puts him on edge. One of these days, he is going to go to Primus to request payment for his efforts.

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Spring Fling

(gif by @pedropascalsx. I've given up using Tumblr gif search)

Pairing: Marcus Pike x virgin f!Reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 19,228. Oops.

Warnings: Significant age gap (almost 20 years), college-age reader, sexual tension, mentions of: strained familial relationships, divorce, unhealthy breakups, stalker(ish) behavior (PAST), therapy. Virgin/inexperienced reader, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected PIV sex and a lot of it, comeplay if you squint, Marcus’s filthy filthy mouth, happy ending

Summary: When you and your friend, fellow pre-Law student Emma, plan to go to Washington DC for spring break instead of the typical beach destination, she makes plans for the two of you to stay with her estranged father for the week to save money on lodging. You never expected Emma’s father, a man she says she’s barely seen throughout the years, to be so sweet, so troubled, and so unfairly pretty. Neither did you expect for what you'd thought was a one-sided attraction to turn into a spring fling... or maybe something more.

A/N: I got an ask asking about 'Best Friend's Dad' Marcus Pike, so I now post a question to you, dear reader: What if Marcus Pike had a college-age kid from his first marriage, one that he'd entered into at a very young age because of an unplanned pregnancy? Anyway to find out the answer read this almost 20k fic LOL

Masterlist

"We should go somewhere for spring break."

Your friend and fellow pre-Law student at the University of Texas, Emma, laughs. "Go somewhere? Like what, the fucking beach? And with what money?"

"No, no beaches. Somewhere cool. Somewhere unusual."

"Like what?" Emma asks, shoving another handful of chips in her mouth.

"I've never been to Washington, DC," you comment thoughtfully.

"I thought every public school in the entire country went to DC at some point," Emma remarks. 

"I had the chickenpox."

"Ew."

"Do you think that would be fun? Going to the Capitol for break?" you ask.

"I guess," Emma shrugs. "It's better than going to writhe on the beach with fifty thousand wasted twentysomethings."

"There's still the issue of how to pay for a trip. For any trip. I think I could cover airfare, but a DC hotel? Ugh," you say with a groan. 

"I could put the hotel on my credit card and work a bunch of extra shifts at Pizza Express afterward to make up for it," Emma says. "But that would pretty much max out my card."

"I can look up the cheapest spots outside the city," you suggest. "And we can take the metro in."

"Outside the city isn't going to be much better," Emma remarks. "We could… nah."

You look up, curious. "We could… what?"

"Well, my uh, my dad actually lives in DC."

"Your dad?" you repeat incredulously. "You've literally never mentioned your dad. I thought he and your mom were estranged?"

"Sorta," Emma says. "The official story is that they married too young and eventually separated."

"...And the unofficial story?"

"My mom found out she was pregnant at nineteen, and my dad wanted to do the right thing, so he married her. But I guess they weren't right for each other, because they were already divorced by the time I was two."

"Do you see him much?" you ask.

"I used to," Emma says quietly. "But my mom was never really enthusiastic about spending much time together, so it wasn’t very often. And then he moved to DC when I was a junior in high school, and I haven't seen him since. He always sends me cards on my birthday and Christmas, though. And…" she suddenly blushes, looking down and away.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What, Em?"

"He pays for my tuition."

"What?!"

"Yeah, I've barely had to take out any loans. It's just for housing and stuff."

"You ass, you never told me that!"

"It's not common knowledge," Emma mumbles. "Besides, no one wants to admit they've got an absent, divorced father paying the bills."

"But you'd want to contact him for this? For a place to crash over spring break for a week?"

"He's nice," Emma says quietly. "I always got the feeling that he wanted to do his best by us."

"I mean, if you're cool with it, it kinda sounds fun," you admit. "Better than Galveston, anyway."

Emma laughs. "Yeah, way better than Galveston."

"Holy shit, Em, you can see the Capitol from here." 

The two of you had emerged from the underground tunnel of the metro station, trailing suitcases behind you, into what feels like the middle of the city itself. The busy street is flanked with large condominiums on both sides, with--unbelievably--a view of the Capitol building in the distance.

"I think it's this one," Emma says, squinting at the address on her phone and back up at one of the buildings. 

"How do we get in?" you ask. 

"He just said to text him," Emma answers. "Hang on." She taps out a message on her phone before sliding it back into her pocket. "And now we wait."

You barely have time to check your email before the front door opens and a man emerges, striding quickly toward the two of you. You think he's about to envelop your friend into a crushing hug, but he stops short, eyes wavering with uncertainty as he looks his daughter up and down. His hand reaches toward her arm, but he hesitates just short of touching.

"Emma," the man breathes, the emotion evident in his voice making you want to duck your head and turn away from the scene. 

"Hey, uh, Dad," Emma says, giving him a sheepish smile. "Been a while."

"It's been six years," the man says emphatically. 

"Yeah."

You watch as Emma's father's fingers twitch toward her. "C-Can I–" 

Emma shrugs. "'Course."

The man carefully steps forward and wraps his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. His eyes close, his eyebrows pull upward to reveal a deep crease in between them as he holds his daughter for apparently the first time in six years. This time, you do look away from what feels like surprisingly tender and private moment. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for your graduation," you hear him say softly. "I was undercover for a case, and… Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm sorry. You don't know how badly I wanted to be there."

"S'okay," Emma says cooly. She steps back, and, for the first time, her father seems to notice you. 

"Hi," he says brightly, and his pained, heartfelt expression melts into an easy smile as he extends his hand to you. "Marcus." 

You don't know what you had been expecting. Maybe someone older. Maybe someone less… attractive. Not this frankly gorgeous man, with his boyish smile, pretty eyes that crinkle around the edges, slightly mussed brown hair that falls over his forehead, and the light smattering of facial hair that only seems to soften his features further. Not that he needed any help, in that respect. Slightly stunned, you step forward and take the man’s hand, trying not to trip over the syllables of your own name.

Marcus’s smile widens, and he repeats your name, which does nothing to quell the sudden burst of butterflies in your stomach–and are your palms sweating?

"Thank you for allowing us to stay for the week," you say politely, forcing yourself out of the trance.

"Not a problem," Marcus answers. "What a great destination for spring break! Whose idea was that?"

"Mine," you say with a little laugh. 

"My kind of girl," Marcus jokes. "Keeping my daughter out of trouble."

"Dad," Emma groans. "I'm not a kid."

"Well, last time I saw you, you were fifteen," Marcus says pointedly. "You're gonna have to let my brain do a little catch-up, here."

"Well, to start with, I'm not a beach party kind of person," Emma says. "I'm a nerd–y'know, being pre-Law and all."

Emma's father beams. "So I've heard. Well, I'm happy to host two nerds while they do a little sightseeing in the nation's Capitol. I can even," he adds with a conspiratorial smile, "give you a tour of the J. Edgar Hoover building. If–If you want," he finishes awkwardly, appearing hesitant and unsure again.

"Oh, cool!" you exclaim automatically, without thinking.

Marcus grins widely at your enthusiasm, and you find yourself staring at your shoes, biting your lip as you flounder under his attention. You're being weird. Stop it. 

"Y-Yeah," Emma adds, nodding hesitantly. "That would be nice... Dad. Thanks."

“C’mon,” Marcus says, grabbing both Emma’s bag and, before you can protest, yours. “Come on up. I ordered some pizza for everyone. You can get settled tonight and… go do whatever you two want to do in the morning.”

The two of you follow Marcus through the lobby and into the elevator. You can’t help but keep stealing little glances at him–the way his shoulders fill out the maroon henley he’s wearing over jeans, the way those shoulders taper down to narrow hips, the way he’s got the top two buttons of his shirt casually undone, showing you a hint of collarbone that has you damn-near salivating. Snap out of it. Oh, God, snap out of it. You’ve known the man for five minutes, and you feel like you’re losing your mind. It’s gonna be a long week if you don’t pull it together. 

Marcus opens the front door and gestures the two of you in before him. You stand awkwardly in the living room, looking around at the furniture and at the decor on the walls, looking anywhere but at your best friend’s dad, whose very presence seems to fluster you beyond all reason.

“I just have one spare room, hopefully you two don’t mind sharing…?” Marcus asks.

“That’s fine,” Emma says good-naturedly. 

“It’s just through here,” he says, walking past you. “I’ll set your bags down in there and show you around.”

The room is clearly his workspace–there’s a desk and a chair shoved into a corner to make room for a comfortable-looking guest bed. The side wall is covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and you subconsciously step toward them, eager to see what titles this man keeps on his shelves.

“Sorry, it’s kind of an… all-purpose room,” Marcus says sheepishly. “Bit cluttered.”

“I like it,” you murmur absentmindedly, still scanning the spines.

“‘Gardner’s Art Through the Ages’” Emma reads, crinkling her nose. “How many editions of this book do you have?”

Her father laughs. “It’s work stuff, mostly. Although there’s a few thrillers here and there. And some classics.” He approaches the shelves as well, and you can feel the hair on the back of your neck start to stand up on end at the sensation of his body hovering just behind you. You’re so… aware of him. You don’t know if it’s because Marcus seems to naturally command every space he’s in or if there’s something electric that’s pulling you toward him, but either way, your entire body feels as though it’s on high alert.

A sharp buzzing makes you jump comically, making Emma snort.

“That’ll be the pizza,” Marcus announces. “Be right back.”

You glance over at Emma, who is still staring disinterestedly at the bookshelves. “It’s a nice place,” you say conversationally. 

“Mmmhm.”

“You okay?” you ask softly.

“Oh, yeah,” Emma scoffs, waving her hand. “Just been a while. It’s weird. You know.”

“He seems nice,” you say.

“He is,” she remarks. “I told you he was. I just… don’t know him very well. Like he said, I haven’t seen him in six years.”

“Maybe this will be good, then,” you suggest. “Get to know him now that you’re an adult and all that.”

Emma shrugs. “Maybe.”

You look back at the shelves. Emma was right; Marcus does have an alarmingly large number of editions of Art Through the Ages. You furrow your brow.

“What does your dad do in DC?”

“Oh, did I not tell you? He’s in the FBI.”

You feel as though you’ve swallowed your tongue, but before you can garble out a response–something like, “Mmmgnnbbllgffnhh?”–you hear Marcus coming back.

“Get it while it’s hot!” he says cheerfully. “You guys must be hungry after traveling all day.”

“Oh wow, Dad, that’s… a lot of pizza for three people,” Emma says, her eyebrows raising in surprise and confusion.

She’s right–there are five boxes sitting on the small kitchen island, along with several options of drink.

“I had no idea what either of you liked,” Marcus reasoned. “So I got a few different options. Cheese, pepperoni, supreme, hawaiian, and some kind of vegan thing, just in case.”

“You know, you could have just texted,” Emma remarks, at the same time that you whisper, “Thank you.”

Marcus looks sheepish. “Wanted to surprise you. Anyway, dig in–there’s obviously a lot.” He laughs quietly to himself, grabbing three plates and setting them down on the counter. You grab three different kinds–supreme, hawaiian, and the vegan option, out of curiosity–and sit on one of the barstools opposite Marcus. Emma grabs two cheeses and sits down next to you.

“So,” he says after a few minutes of surprisingly companionable silence. “I know Emma is pre-Law. Are you pre-Law too?” he asks, looking at you with a friendly, curious smile. 

“Mmmhmm,” you nod, tight-lipped. You hate this conversation–the college-age version of ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ Everyone asks the question with good intent, but it always leaves you in an anxiety spiral, an existential crisis, because no matter how many times you’re asked, you have absofuckinglutely no idea. 

“What kind of law do you want to go into?” This question is addressed more to Emma, who immediately launches into an explanation of Environmental Law and the impact of climate change on public health. Marcus nods eagerly, giving Emma his full attention as she talks, watching her with a small smile. 

“What about you?” he asks when she’s done, turning to you.

You gulp. 

“I don’t—I don’t really know. Not yet, anyways.” You brace yourself for the judgmental eyebrow raise, the well-meaning advice.

“That’s okay,” Marcus says, smiling. “No one says you have to have it figured out at… how old are you?”

“T-Twenty,” you mumble, feeling more naive and inexperienced than you ever have before.

“Nah,” Marcus says, shaking his head playfully. “No one has it figured out at twenty. And the people who think they do? They change.”

His eyes go far away for a split-second, and you wonder what he must have been like at twenty. Did he already have Emma at that point? Did he just find out that his girlfriend was pregnant? Was he panicking, trying to figure out how to make things work? You wonder what it was that he had wanted to do, and what he had sacrificed for Emma and her mom. You wonder if he had wanted the divorce, or if she had been the one to suggest it.

“Anyway,” Marcus says, casually waving a slice of pepperoni as he talks, “I mostly work with criminal lawyers. If that’s something you’re interested in, I could arrange a chat with someone this week.”

“Oh,” you say, too stunned to say anything else. “Yeah, maybe.”

Marcus shrugs good-naturedly. “Think about it,” he says, giving you another crooked grin. His eyes crinkle around the edges when he smiles, and it makes your stomach do somersaults. 

“Yeah,” you say again, a little breathlessly. Your next bite of pizza misses your mouth entirely, and you manage to stab yourself in the cheek with your slice, transferring a glob of tomato sauce onto your face in the process.

Emma laughs, and Marcus’s eyes glitter with amusement as you frantically reach for a napkin. 

“So you do, um… FBI stuff?” you ask him clumsily, trying to break the silence.

“Yep. FBI Stuff. Says it on my badge and everything.”

“Why do you have a bunch of art books?”

“I lead an international task force dealing with art crimes,” he answers patiently. 

“What constitutes an art crime?” Emma asks, her mouth full.

“Theft,” Marcus lists, “forgeries, black market sales, dealing in antiquities, looting of archaeological sites…”

“Oh, wow,” you breathe, a dopey smile on your face. Emma shoots you a funny look.

“So it’s like, nerdy FBI stuff,” she says.

“The nerdiest,” Marcus agrees, smiling.

“Do you still have a gun and stuff?”

“I do,” Marcus says carefully, frowning slightly. “It’s in the safe for the week, though, while you’re here.”

Your stomach flip-flops at the mental image of Emma’s dad holding a gun, those warm brown eyes dark with focus as he stares down… an art thief. Or something. 

“Enough about your old man,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “What are you two looking to do tomorrow on your first day in DC?”

“Think we’ll hit the museums,” Emma says. “Get them out of the way first. We want to see the Library of Congress, obviously. Plus walking around to all the monuments and stuff. Oh, and the zoo!”

“Do you want my advice?” Marcus asks, and you both nod. “It’s supposed to be unseasonably warm tomorrow, and sunny. I’d do the monument tour or the zoo tomorrow if I were you. Save the indoor stuff for the end of the week, because it’s supposed to rain.”

“Monuments it is!” Emma exclaims. “Hey, can I… can I use your shower? I feel kinda gross from the travel day.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus hops up, leading Emma over to the guest bathroom. You listen as he points out a stack of towels intended for the two of you during your stay, the extra shampoo he’d bought, the spare toothbrushes just in case… Eventually he returns, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking hesitant again.

“Thank you,” you say again. “You went through a lot of trouble, and–”

“It’s no trouble,” Marcus says quickly. “No trouble at all. I–I have to admit I was surprised when Em–when she called, but I’m–I’m more than happy to host you two for the week. It’s no trouble at all,” he repeats.

“Okay,” you say dumbly. You’re staring again, unable to help the way your eyes are drawn to the way his arms fill out the shirt he's wearing when his hands are in his pockets like that. 

"You alright?" 

Your eyes flit up to his at the question. He's looking back at you, his head cocked to the side as he watches you. And suddenly, you can just tell–you can tell that he knows how flustered you are in front of him. 

You nod rapidly up and down in response, not trusting yourself to answer.  

"Good. Had enough pizza?"

"Mmhmm."

"Anything else to drink?" he asks. 

"Got any beer?" you ask with a quirk of your eyebrow.

"You told me you were twenty," Marcus reminds you. 

"Oh."

"And I work for law enforcement," he says gravely. 

Oh. 

"Oh, f-fuck, I um… I was kidding. Holy shit. I'm sorry. Seriously, I'm not a-a bad… student, or anything. I swear, I–"

As you continue to frantically backtrack, you realize that Marcus’s shoulders are shaking with laughter. 

"Oh, you're funny. Real funny. Ha. Ha."

"Next you'll be saying I should quit my day job," he says, his eyes sparkling. 

"I'm not sure what kind of art… crime… solver… you are, but I have to believe you're a better agent than you are a comedian," you deadpan. 

"You can come to my stand-up show on Tuesday and see for yourself."

Your jaw drops before you realize Marcus's lips are quivering with the effort of keeping a straight face. 

"You're on fire, tonight," you say, rolling your eyes. 

"You'll have to forgive me," he says, a gentle, more wistful smile gracing his lips. "I don't have company often, and it's been even longer since I've seen–" his eyes flick to the bathroom door, and he looks troubled for a moment. 

"Strictly off the record, if you do want a beer, I happen to have some," he says, changing the subject and smiling back at you again. 

"Nah, I'll save that favor for later in the week," you tell him.

"Noted," Marcus replies. He's looking at you again, still. He seems to be one of those people who gives all of his focus to someone when they speak, and the attention is starting to overwhelm you. 

"Hey!" Emma calls from the guest bedroom. "I wanna get started early tomorrow. Those monuments aren't gonna monument themselves."

You laugh and roll your eyes. "That's my cue," you say with a little smile. "Gonna grab a shower myself and call it a night."

"If you need anything, I'm a room away," Marcus says, but it only serves to remind you that this man will be sleeping in the next room.

"Got it," you say, nodding thickly. "Um, good night."

"Good night," he answers softly. 

When you reach the bathroom door, you turn around again–you can't help yourself. 

He's still looking at you. 

"Get up!

"Get up!"

"GET–"

"Okay!" you whine, throwing an extra pillow in the general direction of Emma's voice. "Fuck. I'm up."

You throw on a pair of jeans and a faded tee, scrubbing your hands over your face as you stumble out of the guest room and into the kitchen, where Marcus hands you a cup of coffee, which you accept with a grunt.

"Emma warned me that you weren't a morning person," he says. 

"God, it's both of you, isn't it?" you grumble. "Morning people."

"I guess we turned out alike after all," Marcus says with a soft smile, watching as you take a grateful sip from the mug. "What's the first stop on the list?"

"I dunno, she's got it all planned out," you murmur. "Of like, seeing the farthest place first and working our way back."

"Sounds like a plan," Marcus says. "You two have fun."

"What are you doing today?" Emma interjects, coming into the kitchen, grabbing a bagel off of the counter, and stuffing it into her mouth. 

"Well, it's Sunday, so… grocery shopping," Marcus says. "Any special requests?"

"Filet mignon," Emma says. 

"You got it. Want some lobster tails as well?"

"Mmhmm."

"I was thinking more along the lines of spaghetti and meatballs. Anything else you ladies would like?"

Emma shuffles her feet, and you frown slightly. You've never known her not to immediately say what's on her mind–and clearly, something is. 

"What is it, Emmie?" Marcus asks softly.

"Do you remember that one time that we came to your family's for Christmas–I think I was maybe twelve?–and you made…"

"...Tamales?" Marcus asks, his eyebrows shooting upward. 

"Yeah," Emma answers, her voice smaller than you've ever heard it. "I still remember those. They were really good."

"Jesus, I haven't made those in…" he shakes his head. "I don't even know. But uh, sure. We can do that. Tamale night. It's a deal."

"Thanks," Emma says, smiling. "And… really? 'Emmie?' Dad, I'm not seven anymore."

"My mistake," Marcus says with a playful wink in your direction–which might make your heart stop. "You girls stay safe. Text if you need anything."

Marcus was right–the weather is beautiful today. It’s perfect for walking endlessly from monument to monument, which you do all morning. You try to stay focused–thoughtfully reading the names on the Vietnam War Memorial and not thinking about Emma’s dad, in the plain white t-shirt he had been wearing this morning, in the produce section picking out apples. Even worse, you try not to imagine the sight of him cooking tonight.

He’s becoming a bit of an obsession for you, you can admit it. You want to know everything about him–what his job is like, what he does on the weekends, what he likes to read, what he did in the past to alienate the mother of his child enough that he’s barely seen his daughter–who he very clearly cares deeply for…

As you walk around the Washington Monument, you can’t stand it any longer. 

“Sooooo. It seems like things are going well between you and your dad,” you say conversationally.

“How do you mean?” 

“Less awkward, I guess.”

“It’s not that we don’t get along,” Emma says with a shrug. “We always used to. Like I said, I always thought he was nice. My mom…” 

“She didn’t like him?”

“She didn’t want to be around him. I don’t know why. They tried to protect me from the messy parts of divorce, but part of that means that I have no idea what their history is. She never talked about it. Neither did he.”

“Huh.” You stare in silence at the large white obelisk. “I wonder what happened.”

“I thought about asking my mom,” Emma says. “Lots of times, but I never got up the courage.”

“You should ask him,” you say quietly. “I get the feeling he needs to tell the story.”

Emma gives you a funny look. “That’s a weird thing to say.”

You shrug. “I’m weird.”

“Fair.”

The two of you walk until it feels as though your feet are going to fall off. 

“My feet are going to fall off,” you announce. “Surely there are no more monuments in the entirety of Washington, DC.”

“We’ve still got the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.”

“Uggghhhh, how important can he be? He’s unknown.”

“This was your idea,” Emma points out. “Go to DC for spring break! Stay with my best friend’s estranged dad! Walk around and see all the monuments and shit!”

“Too many steps,” you groan. “They should all be concentrated in one square mile of land.”

“One more,” Emma promises. “And then spaghetti.”

“And laying on the couch watching TV,” you counter.

“And laying on the couch watching TV,” Emma agrees. “...And tomorrow we go to the zoo.”

“No!”

Marcus chuckles as you stumble into his condo just after six. You immediately collapse onto the couch with an exaggerated groan.

“I’m staying right here for the rest of the week,” you announce.

“It’s been one day,” Marcus points out. 

“My phone’s step counter measures over thirty thousand steps,” you mumble. “I’m done.”

“That’s a lot,” Marcus concedes. “Hopefully that means the two of you are hungry this evening.”

“Fucking starving,” Emma agrees, crashing onto the couch herself and nearly colliding with you as she does so. 

“Well, since everyone is so tired,” Marcus says, the playfulness evident in his voice, “I’ll make spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Tamales are a group effort, so you two better be ready to work for your food.”

“I shall endeavor to do so,” Emma remarks with an exaggerated accent, causing you to laugh giddily. 

While Emma’s eyes are closed, you take advantage, watching Marcus–still with that same fitted white shirt–in the kitchen, boiling water, heating the sauce, and adding the meatballs. He must sense your gaze, because he turns, a characteristic crooked smile on his lips as he acknowledges you. 

“I know they’re frozen,” he admits, speaking of the meatballs, “but they always taste the same to me anyway.”

“I can’t wait,” you say, truthfully. “It’s been a long day.”

As if to demonstrate the fact, a loud snore emanates from the body next to you, making you grin.

“I’m glad you guys came,” Marcus says softly. “I don’t often have the opportunity to cook for… more than one.”

“No girlfriend?” you ask conversationally. 

Marcus laughs. “I’m… in between things, I suppose.”

“In between,” you parrot with a laugh. “How long have you been ‘in between?’”

He huffs. “Too long,” he murmurs. 

“How come?” you ask quietly.

Marcus frowns, thinking. “I dunno. No one recently has been… exactly what I’m looking for.”

“And what are you looking for?” you ask breathlessly.

“Spaghetti,” Emma mumbles from the couch.

“Spaghetti,” Marcus repeats, giving me a slightly melancholy smile. “Exactly. Come and get it, you two.”

Emma stirs, stumbling into the kitchen where two giant bowls of spaghetti and meatballs are awaiting the two of you.

“Holy shit,” she remarks. “Thanks for this.”

“Of course,” Marcus says. “I would never agree for you to stay and then not…” he trails off, unsure of himself.

You’re starting to realize that the bulk of Marcus’s most emotional statements go unsaid. I would ever agree for you to stay and then not take care of you, is what he hadn’t said. 

“Still doing the zoo tomorrow?” he asks, changing the subject, as always.

“Yup,” Emma answers.

He huffs, smiling wistfully. “Been ages since I’ve been to a zoo.”

“D’you wanna go?” you ask, before you can determine that it’s a bad idea.

Marcus looks at you, indecisive for a few seconds before he seemingly comes to his senses. “Nah,” he says, grinning. “You two have fun.”

“Are you sure?” Emma asks. “Apparently there’s a new panda baby.”

“That’s a hard bargain,” he admits.

“You should come with,” Emma decides. “It could be fun.”

“All right,” Marcus agrees hesitantly.

“It’s Monday,” you point out. “Don’t you have to work?”

“I’ll call off,” he answers quickly. “Not everyday one’s daughter is in town for an impromptu zoo trip.”

“Look at the little lad,” Emma gushes. 

“The what?” Marcus asks. 

The three of you are staring at the panda enclosure, watching the newest addition to the zoo cause chaos.

“The chonky boi,” you agree.

“I have no idea what you two are saying,” Marcus admits. 

“The baby panda is cute,” Emma offers. 

“That I can agree on,” he decides.

The three of you, you’ve decided, make a good team. You try not to think about how your heart burns whenever Marcus looks at you, how your stomach does flips whenever he laughs. If you’re going to be a good friend to Emma–and you are–you’re going to have to put this silly crush aside and accept the fact that he’s a package deal with your best friend. 

That doesn’t stop the way the man looks at you, though. 

You think you’re imagining it, at first. After all, Marcus seems to be the type of person who focuses completely on whatever anyone has to say. The more you’re with him, though, it’s hard to deny that he seems to look at you just a tiny bit longer.

You start to notice it all day–when you’re looking at the exhibits, Marcus is looking at you. 

He’s watching your reaction to them–smiling when you smile, laughing when you laugh. You can’t parse out the meaning behind his actions–does it mean something? If so, what? What does it mean? 

You can’t admit the truth to yourself until you’re in the insect house. Emma is giddy with interest, and you… are trying. 

“Are you okay?” Marcus asks softly in your ear–and you try not to shiver.

“Great,” you squeak. “Just don’t love the bird-eating spider.”

“I don’t like them either,” he confesses with a smile. “Do you need to leave?”

“Idunno,” you mumble, slurring the words together. 

“Emmie,” Marcus announces, “we’re going to take a little break, okay?”

“Mmm.” 

You and Marcus escape into the bright sunshine, and you let out an awkward laugh. “I can’t believe they have some of them loose in there–without glass or anything!”

“I’m not going back in that building,” Marcus agrees, laughing with you. “The giant orb weaver was the last straw.”

“That was awful,” you say, nodding.

“Come to think of it, I might be more of a baby panda guy, myself.”

“I’ll take the snakes over this,” you agree.

You sit down on a nearby bench, still giggling together as you wait for Emma.

“Is it weird if I say I’m glad you came?” you ask quietly.

“I’m glad I came, too,” Marcus says beside you.

“I think–” you begin, but Emma emerges from the insect house, grinning ear to ear.

“You think… what?” Marcus asks, but you shake your head and shrug.

“I dunno,” you mumble. “I just… think.”

“Hey, wimps,” Emma shouts. “They let me touch the tarantula.”

Marcus takes the two of you out to dinner at a casual burger spot near his place. While the tension between him and Emma has lessened significantly since the first day, it feels as though it’s been replaced by a thick cloud of tension between the two of you. 

There’s something about the man that speaks to you, something within him that seems to vibrate on the same frequency as something within you. Twin souls, you’d say, if you were in a mind to be romantic, except… it can’t be. He must be nearly forty–and almost twice your age. There’s nothing you have that he would want–nothing you could offer a man who has his entire life together while yours has barely started.

Still, the way Marcus laughs at your jokes and gives you knowing glances–as if the two of you are sharing some type of inside joke that you’ve had for years–keeps you flustered and breathless throughout most of the evening.

The glass of wine he offers when you arrive home doesn’t help, either. You watch the red liquid swirl in your glass and wonder how it would taste from his lips, instead. And, when you’ve reached the bottom of your glass, the fuzzy-headed feeling you get from the alcohol combined with the way your stomach swoops in its place every time Marcus’s eyes meet yours has you feeling dizzy and enraptured in equal parts. 

When he locks eyes with you over the rim of his own glass as he drains the last sip, you freeze, afraid that you’d been caught out–that he can read every dumbstruck expression on your face and knows exactly what he does to you.

But all he does is shoot you a little smile, announce that he’s going to bed– “Back to work for me, tomorrow”–and leaves you in the living room alone with Emma, trying not to look as though you’re checking out her dad’s butt as he leaves the room. 

The next day, you and Emma spend most of the day at the Library of Congress while Marcus is at work. As a result, neither of you are too tired to help when Marcus suggests making the tamales tonight. 

“I’m going to preface this by saying I’m not very good at making these,” he says with a laugh as he struggles with the dough. “My grandma only made these on special occasions, and I’ve done it myself approximately two times without her.”

“Well, the good news is that I’ve got no frame of reference,” you tell him. “So as long as they’re edible, they’ll be the best tamales I’ve ever had.”

Marcus chuckles and ducks his head; you can see the pink tinge on the tips of his ears as he continues to stir the mixture.

“Emmie, do you want to do the dough or the filling?” he asks. 

“Filling.”

“That leaves you with the fun part,” Marcus says to you with a playful wink. “You get to spread the dough out on the corn husks like this–” he frowns as a glob of dough gets stuck to the spatula. “I told you I’m not very good at this. But you get the idea.”

You really don’t; cooking has never been your strong suit. You do your best to spread the dough out, but after just a couple of repetitions, your fingers, your shirt, and the counter around you are sticky with dough. 

“This is not going very well,” you mumble. 

Marcus looks up from the tamale he’s currently folding and laughs joyfully. “That’s part of the process.”

“I really don’t feel like it is,” you shoot back. “It’s sticking to everything but the corn husks.”

“Here,” Marcus chuckles. And suddenly, he’s right behind you, his chest nearly touching your back as he reaches around you to gently guide your hands himself. “Like this.”

You can’t possibly focus on your task, not when you have to remind your body to keep breathing while Marcus’s hands are on you. Your eyes stare unseeingly down at the corn husk until he releases you. 

“Better?” he asks.

“Mmhm,” you hum, abnormally high-pitched.

“You’ve got some on your cheek,” he remarks with a soft smile. His thumb gently swipes across it, catching the stray dough and wiping it on a towel. 

In the end, the tamales are hideous, but they taste incredible. They might be the best meal you’ve ever had–or maybe it’s just the way Marcus had smiled proudly at you when your technique improved after his intervention.

After dinner, the three of you sit on the small couch and watch a movie.

“It’s in black and white,” Emma remarks, wrinkling her nose.

“Double Indemnity? It’s a classic!” Marcus protests.

“Old movies are always so boring,” Emma says. 

“It’s not boring,” he pouts. “The unhappy wife of a wealthy oil baron starts a dangerous, illicit love affair with an insurance salesman, and they hatch a plot to murder her husband and collect the insurance money.”

“That’s wild,” you laugh. “How have you seen this before?”

“I’ve always been told I’m an old soul.”

“Are you sure you’re not just old?” Emma teases.

“Hush. Watch the movie.”

The film is engaging, but all of the walking around of the past few days starts to catch up with you about halfway through. Before you know it, your eyes are drooping, and your head tips back on the couch cushion as you start to doze off. When you wake, the credits are rolling, and you’re no longer upright on the back of the couch.

You’re drooling on Marcus’s shoulder.

You startle, sitting back up with a frantic gasp and wiping your mouth in horror.

“Shh,” Marcus whispers, placing a calming hand on your forearm. “Emma fell asleep, too.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” you babble, taking in the little wet spot on his shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assures softly. “You’re tired. You needed the sleep.”

“Still,” you say. “I didn’t mean to…” you trail off awkwardly. 

“It’s okay,” Marcus repeats, even quieter still. His hand still rests on your forearm, his thumb subtly moving back and forth across your skin. 

Neither of you speak for what seems like an eternity, until finally, he breaks the spell.

“Should go to bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll wake up Emma. Go get some rest.”

“Marcus,” you whisper shakily.

“Go,” he whispers back. 

He squeezes your arm once, then releases you, and you reluctantly get up from the couch and cross to the guest bedroom door. You turn again, watching as Marcus gently smooths Emma’s hair back from her forehead as he rouses her from the couch. There’s so much tenderness in his eyes, and you wonder how much different he might be if Emma had been a more constant presence in his life. He seems so lonely–does he have friends outside of work, you wonder? Does he ever date? 

Emma sits up blearily and pads across the living room, walking past you and collapsing on the bed. You take one last look at Marcus, and follow her. 

The next morning, you feel as though you could cut the tension between you and Marcus with a knife. There’s something there–and you both know it. He seems to be doing his best to ignore it, avoiding eye contact with you, and busying himself with pouring a thermos of coffee and messing with his tie absentmindedly as he gets ready to leave for work. 

“Where are you off to today?” he comments lightly.

“Smithsonian,” Emma answers. 

“Sounds fun. I’ve got a deposition this afternoon that’s probably going to run late, so go ahead and grab something for dinner while you’re out. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

The only time Marcus’s eyes fall on you is in the moment just before he steps through the front door. He pauses, hand on the doorknob, and glances back in your direction, dark eyes watching you for a moment before he nods subtly and leaves.

It’s funny how just a simple, seconds-long moment of eye contact with this man can turn your insides to jelly. Your breath stutters as the door clicks shut, and you try to gather yourself again.

“What’s first?” Emma asks. “Natural History or Air and Space?”

You put Marcus out of your mind for most of the day, although he’s never far away; you’re able to call up the feel of his hand on your forearm at any given moment. You can imagine the burn of his eyes even as you walk through exhibit after exhibit.

True to his word, he’s not home for dinner. You and Emma grab sandwiches from a shop around the corner and eat them in the living room in front of the TV. It’s nearly seven when Marcus finally gets home, opening the door and greeting the two of you with a tired smile and a heavy sigh.

“How did it go?” Emma asks.

“Shit,” he answers, shooting her a crooked grin. “But I’ve got leftover tamales to look forward to, so the day is looking up.”

You watch another movie–Emma’s choice this time, and something a bit more current. You don’t fall asleep this time; you can’t, not with the way your body feels on high alert tonight. Marcus is sitting beside you again, as he was the night before, and all you can think about is how much you want to sink into his arms again–and this time, intentionally. You want to lay on his chest and have him wrap his arms around you; you want him to slowly turn and press you down on the cushions, to feel the weight of him on top of you, the light scrape of his beard on your neck, his breath in your ear.

A wave of arousal washes over you, heating your skin and sending a little trickle of damp into your underwear. You wonder if Marcus can feel it–feel the elevated warmth of your skin from where he’s sitting. You wonder if he can tell how much he affects you. 

When the movie ends, you can barely meet his eyes as you bid him goodnight, following Emma to your room. You can’t turn around to see if he’s watching you; you can’t stand another glance at that deep, burning gaze of his. 

Sleep evades you. You’re too hot, so you kick off the covers. Then you’re too cold, so you cover up again. You flip over the pillow, turn from your back to your stomach, and back again. The fantasy plays once more in your head: Marcus’s hand cradling the back of your neck as he kisses a path down your neck and to your chest. You want to feel the weight of him between your thighs, feel him pressing against your core. You’re dripping for him, and he doesn’t even know it. 

No one has ever done this to you, but he has. And he hasn’t even touched you. 

You wonder if he’d be bothered by the fact that you aren’t exactly sure what you’re doing in that department. You wonder if he’d be put off by your inexperience, or if he’d be happy to guide you in the act of pleasure. 

You’ve had a couple of fumbling encounters, rushed, frenzied moments as a teenager with boys who haphazardly stuffed a finger or two into you, but it didn’t feel like anything to you. Not really. No one has ever made you cum–just you, in the safety of your own bed at night, your fingers seeking relief that no one else has been able to provide.

Could he give it to you?

Your past experiences have been with boys; and Marcus is a man. 

Your legs shift, rubbing your thighs against each other as you try to find a more comfortable position.

You can’t find one.

Eventually, you give up–getting out of bed with a sigh. Maybe if you grab a drink of water and sit on the couch for a while, sleep will win out in the end. You pad into the kitchen, filling a cup in the sink and taking a few long sips. The cool water is a relief, so you run your hand underneath the water next and scrub it over your face. Finally sated, you set the cup down by the sink and turn.

To see Marcus sitting on the couch, dimly lit by the glow of his laptop screen.

You nearly double over with shock, the unexpected sight causing a spike of adrenaline to course through your body.

“Sorry,” he says apologetically. “Couldn’t sleep, so I was… catching up on work.”

The mirror image of a popular news site reflects through the glass picture frame behind the couch, exposing the tiny lie.

“Yeah, me neither,” you admit quietly. “Thought I’d sit out here for a while and see if that helps, but… sorry, I’ll leave you to it.” You make to turn back, to retreat to the room again, but Marcus speaks softly behind you.

“Come sit,” he says. “I don’t mind.”

Breath caught somewhere in your throat, you hesitantly sink down on the couch beside him. Marcus closes his laptop and sets it down on the coffee table, and the silence stretches out between you. 

“So, are you liking DC so far?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer eagerly. “I’m having a great time. I’ll… I’ll be sad to leave,” you admit. “Is that weird?”

“It’s weird if you’re talking about missing the Washington Monument,” Marcus teases. “Or the traffic.”

“I’m talking about the metro, obviously,” you joke. “The rest of the country could stand for some public transit options.”

“I’m not sure they should be taking their cues from DC,” he chuckles. 

“Pssh, I like it.”

“The novelty wears off, believe me.”

You lapse into silence again. You’re sitting close enough to Marcus that you can feel the warmth from his skin, even though you aren’t touching. You want to sink into him, to have him envelop you, consume you.

You feel yourself unconsciously shifting closer to him. 

Is it just your imagination, or did Marcus subtly lean closer to you?

The pull is inevitable; your eyes flick up to his, and you can almost feel the point of no return pass the two of you by. 

You lick your lips, and his breath catches in his throat.

“I wasn’t talking about the metro,” you say breathlessly. 

“I know.”

And suddenly, his lips are on yours. 

It’s not fast, not rushed or frantic; he doesn’t surge forward to take you. It’s simply that the two of you are close enough that at one moment, Marcus Pike is not kissing you, and then the next moment, he is. 

As with everything this man does, the kiss is soft and tender. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he gently tits his head as his lips move against yours. His mouth opens ever so slightly, and you feel a wave of pure want rush through you at the light flick of his tongue against your lower lip.

You make a ragged sound in your chest as your lips part for him, and your tongues slide against each other for far too short of a time before Marcus pulls back, suddenly, his eyes full of worry.

“Oh, shit,” he murmurs. “Shit, we… we shouldn’t.”

This time, you kiss him back. The neck of his soft t-shirt crumples in your fist as you pull him closer, opening your mouth to him, and his protests die at the feel of your lips on his. Instead, it seems to light a fire within him; one hand curls around the back of your neck and the other grips your hip and you gasp softly into his mouth at the feel of his hands on your body. 

Marcus breaks the kiss again, but instead of pulling back to give you more reasons why you can’t, this time he kisses a path across your cheek and down your neck. You’ve imagined the way his light beard would feel against your skin so many times over the last couple of days, but nothing compares to the reality of having him gently scrape his teeth against your neck as you arch your back to him. 

“Fuck,” Marcus whispers. “So sweet, honey.”

You whimper at the term of endearment as Marcus gently starts to shift positions, turning and guiding you down onto the couch, just as you’d imagined. 

Now that you’re horizontal, the kisses that started out tender and sweet start to grow more and more lascivious. You can feel the weight of him between your legs and his hot length pressing against you, his hips rocking slightly as he lazily explores you with his hands and his mouth. 

One hand creeps up your inner thigh and slips under your thin sleep shorts and underwear, gently grazing your folds and feeling the obscene amount of slick that’s already gathered there. 

“Shit,” Marcus hisses softly, reverently. “You’re so wet. How are you so wet?”

“You,” you answer earnestly, staring up at him with wide eyes. 

He laughs breathlessly in response, his eyes raking up and down your body, taking in your nipples peeking through the threadbare material of your tank top. His finger explores deeper, slipping inside your tight channel and immediately finding… something… that makes you gasp raggedly. 

“So responsive,” he murmurs playfully. “I’ve barely touched you.” He starts to slowly pump his finger in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit as he rubs against that little spot inside of you every time, and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and cling to him as this one little movement threatens to take you apart. 

“Honey,” he whispers disbelievingly as he feels you start to tighten around him. “Already?”

“I–” 

Whatever you had been about to say dies on your lips as you suddenly fall over the edge, shaking as the pleasure overtakes you. Marcus soothes you through it, whispering in your ear as you come down from your high.

“Wow,” you murmur. “Holy shit, that was amazing.”

Marcus pulls back and gives you a funny look. “What’s going on?” he asks, frowning slightly.

“Heh–you’re going to laugh,” you say, giving him an awkward grimace. 

He raises his eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’ve–kind of never done this before,” you admit, pressing your lips together sheepishly. 

“Oh shit,” Marcus breathes, sitting up fully as his eyes frantically sweep over you. “Oh, honey–no. I can’t–we can’t do this.”

“Why?” you ask, wincing internally at how whiny it comes out.

“It can’t–it shouldn’t be me,” he says softly. “That’s more than I deserve to take.”

“You’re not taking anything,” you protest. “I–I want it to be you.”

Marcus shakes his head again, but you can see the cracks in his resolve, the way his eyes are searching you, devouring you with his gaze.

“I don’t want it to be some boy at a frat party back home,” you tell him. “I want you. I want it to feel good. Please?”

Marcus’s expression is inscrutable as his eyes rake over your form, disheveled and sated, underneath him. Your heart sinks when he stands up, shame sinking down into the pit of your stomach, but then he extends his hand to you, and you look up at him, questioning. 

“I’m not going to let your first time be a quick fuck on my couch,” he says quietly and resolute. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to bed.”

Wordlessly, you accept his hand and allow him to pull you to your feet. You wobble slightly, still shaky from the orgasm, and Marcus draws you into his side, steadying you. He guides you forward, keeping you close as the two of you walk to his bedroom. 

Despite the fact that you were more than ready to let this man take you right there on the couch, the change in venue has your heart hammering in your chest. Now, it feels real. It feels intentional. 

“C’mere, beautiful,” Marcus murmurs when he feels your steps falter. His hand slides up your arm and across your shoulder until it curls gently around your neck, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of your skin. He presses a couple of soft, chaste kisses across your opposite shoulder, and your lips part of their own accord. 

“I need you to tell me if you don’t want to do this,” he says softly in your ear.

“I want–”

“I know, I know,” Marcus interrupts. “I want you to tell me if that changes.”

He gently guides you onto his bed, one hand on the small of your back to keep you from going too fast. 

“I wanna know what you like,” he murmurs as he hovers over you again, his hand coming up underneath the thin material of your top. “I wanna know what you don’t like.” 

“I–I don’t really know–”

“I know,” Marcus grins wolfishly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “That’s the idea.”

He starts to push the material of your shirt up, up, up, until your nipples are pebbling in the cool air of his bedroom. He gently pulls it over your head and casts it aside, looking down at you with undisguised hunger. He trails the backs of his fingers down the side of one breast and underneath. “I get to find out what you like,” he says. He circles one areola with the tip of his finger, making you shiver. “And I get to be the first to do it.”

He gently drags the pad of his finger across the little bud of your nipple, and you gasp for him as if you’d hit a live wire. 

“I’m gonna take a guess and say you liked that,” he teases. 

“Marcus,” you whine. 

“Shh,” he whispers again, just before his mouth engulfs your nipple. Your hand darts out unconsciously, tangling in the hair on the back of Marcus’s neck as you squirm under his hot tongue. You can’t tell whether you want to pull away or push toward him, but in reality all you do is whine and take what he gives you. He switches to the other one; lathing and flicking his tongue and pressing down until you whimper.

“So… fucking… responsive,” Marcus murmurs in between kisses as he starts to mouth his way down your belly to the band of your sleep shorts. His fingers dip underneath, poised to pull them down over your hips, but he waits–eyes flicking up to yours to gauge your reaction. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks quietly.

“I-If you want,” you laugh shakily. 

“If I want?” he parrots disbelievingly. “You’re saying that like it’s not a given–like I haven’t been thinking of burying my tongue in that sweet little pussy all night. If I want,” he chuckles to himself again, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs. “I need to taste you. I need to feel you fall apart on my tongue. The first one was kind of a surprise, and all I want is to feel you shaking again.”

You’re bare before him, but you don’t have any time to be self-conscious, because Marcus is laying back down on the bed, his face inches away from your pussy. He gently guides your legs over his shoulders before lowering his mouth to you. 

You aren’t sure who groans louder at the first touch of his tongue through your folds. 

Marcus makes a pained noise in his throat before murmuring, “So sweet, honey–fuck, you’re so sweet.”

His tongue is delicate, but precise; he flicks it back and forth against your clit, then dips down to lap at your entrance until you’re trembling for him. He’s tireless and patient, cataloging every whimper and moan he pulls from you as the pleasure slowly builds inside of you. In no time at all, you’re dangling on the precipice, your hips locking into place as you start to reach the point of no return. 

“I–I–” you stammer, trying to warn him.

Marcus hums enthusiastically in agreement, concentrating his efforts on your clit until you fall apart with a gasp.

He groans again, licking you through each little aftershock of pleasure until you’re boneless. 

“You squeeze me so hard,” he croons. “Can you feel that? You’re so tight around my tongue.”

“Shit…” you murmur. You’re too fucked-out to say anything else. 

“Gonna have to open you up a bit with my fingers,” he says softly. “So I don’t hurt you.”

You look up at him with half-lidded eyes. He’s still clothed–wearing sweatpants and a shirt, while you’re completely naked, and you frown slightly at the disparity.

“Everything okay?” Marcus asks, seeing your expression. 

“Can–Can I see you? You’re so… clothed,” you say with a little pout. 

He laughs, smiling widely so that the corners of his eyes crinkle, and your heart soars. 

“Of course,” he agrees, stripping off his shirt. “Of course.”

You raise up on one elbow, gazing up at Marcus’s broad chest, the light smattering of hair, and the soft swell of his belly. You can’t help but reach up and touch him, pressing your palm to his sternum and trailing down, tracing the little path of hair until it disappears under the band of his sweatpants. Your fingers curl underneath the band, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“These, too?” he asks with a teasing chuckle, smiling wider when you nod eagerly. 

His cock bobs free as he pushes his pants down his hips, and your eyes widen at the sight of him, thick and hard and heavy with want. Curiously, you wrap your hand around him, and you’re rewarded with a little ‘hnnngg’ of pleasure and surprise as you touch him. 

You gently trace the little ridges on his shaft, traveling up to the flushed, purple head, where the skin is even softer, and back down again.

“F-Fuck,” Marcus muttters. “Can’t do that too much, honey, or I’m gonna lose it before we even get started.”

“I like it,” you say with a little giggle. “I never realized they were so… soft.”

Marcus makes a broken, choked sound. “Jesus. You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

He falls onto one elbow, giving you a messy, passionate kiss before sucking his fingers into his mouth and gently sinking one finger into you again. His lips stay close to yours, noses almost touching, his eyes watching your face intently as he slowly opens you up. His fingers are so thick, and just like before, he seems to know exactly where to press up inside you to make the pleasure spark inside of you. He adds a second finger, and you whimper–you're already so full. 

"Little bit more," Marcus murmurs. "Doing so well for me–fuck–so tight."

He gently starts to slide a third into you, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit to offer some relief.

“Is it greedy if I say I want you to cum for me again?” he asks softly. “I want to feel it again. Can you do that for me?”

You nod dazedly–wanting to do anything, everything this man asks as long as he keeps making you feel like this. 

His fingers press up against your walls again, and you sob loudly into the room.

Marcus immediately muffles the sound with a kiss, swallowing your whimpers and cries in an attempt to keep the sound from carrying across the apartment. 

“Gotta stay quiet for me,” he whispers against your lips. 

“S-Sorry.”

“No, shh, don’t be sorry,” he murmurs. “I wish you could be loud. Wish I could make you scream for me. Just–fuck, honey, you’re right there, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing me–fuck, you get so wet. Give me one more. One more, and I’ll give you my cock. That’s it, that’s–yes–” 

Marcus breaks off on a groan as you clamp down on his fingers. It’s so much, you’re so full, and you buck against his hand, your lower back rising up off of the bed as he pulls it from you. 

You slump back down, breathing heavily, as he carefully withdraws his fingers. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, trying to get your attention. “Hey, I should have asked this sooner, but–are you on birth control? Do you want me to use a condom?”

“I-I’m on the pill,” you tell him. “If you… you know, if you didn’t want to. That would be–I’d like that.”

“That’s perfect,” he whispers, giving you a tender kiss. “I’d like that, too.” He pauses, and mutters a soft curse under his breath. “I wish I had some lube,” he remarks. “Just to be sure I don’t hurt you.”

You watch as he spits on his cock and takes himself in hand. 

“This will have to do, though,” he says as he slicks it over his cock and crawls over you. “And I’ll just go slow.”

He cups the back of your neck with one hand as he lines himself up with the other. His lips are inches from yours, but he doesn’t lean down to kiss you–no, he seems to want to watch your reaction as the tip of his cock notches at your entrance. 

“Don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers again.

“You could never hurt me,” you say confidently, and you watch as his lips part in surprise. “Marcus–” you add, as you shift your hips impatiently. “–just do it.”

Your eyes widen as you feel him push into you, his girth splitting you open. It can’t be much bigger than three of his thick fingers, but still, it just feels like more. It’s longer, certainly; he keeps pushing in, and even when you’re sure he’s reached the end, there’s still more. 

“Oh wow,” you hear yourself murmuring again and again. “Oh, Marcus.” 

“I know,” he returns, kissing your cheekbone, your forehead, your nose, and then finally, your lips. “I know, honey.”

He starts to rock his hips, slowly undulating them, letting his cock drag back and forth against your walls. It feels incredible–you never imagined how fucking good this would feel–and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s because it’s him. It’s Marcus–a man you’ve admittedly only known for a few days, but you feel as though you know him already–and you trust him completely. 

“Does it hurt at all?” he rumbles softly in your ear.

“No,” you answer emphatically. “It feels–holy shit.”

Marcus laughs breathlessly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can–can we do this again?”

He chuckles. “We’re currently doing this.”

“I already want it again.”

He starts to go a little harder, his thrusts a little deeper. His hand grips your hip for leverage, the other still cradling the back of your neck. He kisses you, a deep, messy, passionate thing, before burying his face in the crook of your neck and sucking a gentle mark into your skin.

“Feels so good,” he murmurs. “I’m not gonna last, not when you feel like this.”

“Like how?” you ask, smiling widely. 

“So fucking tight,” Marcus groans. “And wet, and hot, and–” he brings his thumb to your clit and starts to rub little circles around it. “I need you to cum again,” he says. “Fuck, you–you feel too good, honey, I’m not gonna last.”

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you murmur. 

“Please,” he says, a hint of desperation in his tone. “Please, baby, you’ve gotta do this one last thing for me. Let me feel it, let me make you feel good. Let me–let me–”

Your mouth falls open as you feel it wash over you. This is better than anything you’ve ever felt before, any relief you’ve been able to seek with your fingers–the drag of his cock along your walls only serves to prolong your pleasure, making each little aftershock feel like a new wave of pleasure. 

“Oh, fuck,” Marcus groans. “Fuck.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he shoves his hips into you one more time, emptying himself within you with a deep groan. 

The aftermath is quiet. After gently, tenderly cleaning you up with a damp cloth, Marcus collapses on the pillows and pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around you as you settle with your head resting on his shoulder.

“Was this a bad idea?” you ask quietly as you trace little shapes on his chest.

Marcus huffs a laugh. “Probably,” he answers.

“I don’t care,” you say resolutely, causing his hold on you to tighten. “...Do you regret it?” you ask, feeling unsure of yourself again.

“No,” Marcus says immediately. “No. I was drawn to you from the beginning. I’m sorry, I–I should have tried harder to prevent this, but…”

“I felt it, too,” you murmur. “Maybe we weren’t meant to prevent it.”

The two of you bask in the afterglow, reveling in the feel of your bodies pressed together. You can’t help but think of how tender, how loving he is–not just with you, but with Emma.

“Can I ask a personal question?” you ask, breaking the silence.

Marcus shrugs. “Sure.”

“This is probably weird to be thinking about right now, but… why does Emma’s mom not want you around?”

 Marcus sighs, his lips pressing into your forehead–not really a kiss, just a caress of your hairline with his mouth.

“That story doesn’t exactly paint me in the best light.”

“I want to know. I just… don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” he asks.

“You’re… you’re such a good dad–a good man. I don’t understand how her mom wanted nothing to do with you. I just don’t get it.”

Marcus nods, pressing his lips together. “I wasn’t always a good man,” he says quietly. “I tried to do the best I could for the both of them–for Emma and her mom–but I’m afraid I fell very short, in the beginning.”

“What happened?”

“We were in college when we found out she was pregnant,” Marcus says with a sigh. “She was nineteen, I was almost twenty-one. We hadn’t been together long; maybe a couple of months. She was terrified, of course–and so was I, but never told her that. I asked her to marry me because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Did you love her?”

“I cared for her, very much so. And even if we weren’t quite right for each other, knowing–” Marcus swallows thickly, “–knowing our child, my child, was growing inside of her made me feel deeply connected. If you had asked me at twenty-one, I would have sworn up and down that I was in love.”

“But not now?”

Marcus huffs softly. “I know a little better, now.”

“What happened?” you ask, tracing the line of his collarbone with the tip of your finger. “What did you do?”

“Well, the first thing I did was drop out of art school,” he says with a little laugh. “Didn’t think it would pay the bills, especially not with a wife and a baby.”

“You were an artist?” you ask, surprised.

“Wanted to be,” he chuckled. “At least at that time. So instead, I applied for the FBI. Joined the Art Crimes division. And shortly after I completed training… Emma was born.” His eyes are far away, a small smile on his face as he remembers. “And she was perfect. And I remember thinking, all the struggling, all the hardship, all the times Denise and I didn’t get along… it would be worth it, in the end. No matter what happened; because I had her.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “What went wrong?”

“Nothing in particular, at first. We struggled to make ends meet. We were two young parents with no idea what we were doing, and even though I might have known deep down that we weren’t right for each other, I just wanted it to go right. I wanted us to be happy, but in the end we were just too different. We didn’t work–and while I might have been blind to it at the time, Denise wasn’t. When Emma was barely even two, she filed for divorce, and I–” he sighs heavily again. “I went a little off the rails.”

You tilt your head and look up at Marcus. His eyes are stormy, and you can see the remorse etched into the lines of his face. You don’t ask how, you just wait patiently for him to continue.

“I didn’t want to be divorced at twenty-three. This wasn’t–it wasn’t the life I had expected for myself, not what I would have chosen, but because I had Emma, I didn’t want anything else. I always knew I would want a family, and so what if it happened… a little out of order?”

“What did you do?” you whispered.

“I tried to convince her to change her mind. She took Emma and went to live with her parents, and I’d call them every day, asking to talk to her. I wanted to persuade her–I thought that if she could just see that we had plenty of time, we could raise Emma and be good parents and still… still have time for whatever we wanted. That we could still build lives.

“When she never returned my calls, I started stopping by,” he confesses, his voice even quieter. “They’d always tell me she was out, so I started showing up at odd hours, trying to… trying to just catch her one time–I thought if I explained that she could do whatever she wanted, as long as we could just stay together and raise Emma, she’d agree. But the more I tried to contact her, the more she pulled away, and rightly so, honestly. I was badgering her. I tried to justify it at the time, said I was doing it all for Emma, but I, uh… It took me until much later to admit I was actually doing it for me. I was so scared of being a failure, and scared to be alone.

“Anyway, the court didn’t look very kindly on what looked to everyone involved like stalking behavior, and Denise was afforded full custody.”

“M-Marcus,” you murmur, unable to help the water gathering at the corners of your eyes. 

“Broke my heart,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “And I was angry about it for a while, but when it comes down to it, I was just angry with myself. It was my actions that lost me my daughter, and… well, I’ve had twenty years to come to terms with that, now.”

“How did you finally… come to face all of that?” you ask quietly.

“Therapy,” Marcus says with a genuine laugh. “And that is another story for another time.”

“God, what else happened to you?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles, “just another relationship that I fought way too hard for.” He playfully runs his finger down the bridge of your nose before tilting your chin upward for a soft kiss. “And you,” he murmurs, “need to go back to bed.”

Your emotions still running on high alert after Marcus’s emotional confession of his past, you surge forward and throw your arms around his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

“I’m okay,” he promises. “It was a long time ago.”

“You should tell Emma,” you say softly. “She never knew why her mom didn’t want you around.”

“Not really something you want to tell your daughter,” he says with a sad smile. “That you basically stalked her mom.”

“She’s grown up. She’s older than her mom was when–”

“Believe me, I know,” Marcus groans. “Don’t remind me; it makes this feel very… wrong.” He gestured between the two of you.

“Just trust me,” you murmur. “She’d want to know.” With herculean effort, you extricate yourself from his arms, grab your clothes, and redress. Feeling unsure in the way the conversation ended, you tell yourself not to turn around again when your hand lands on the doorknob.

“Honey,” Marcus calls out softly from the bed. “Good night.”

“Good night,” you whisper back, and then you’re gone.

“Where are you two off to, today?” Marcus asks conversationally over coffee. He’s made it stronger than usual today, and it makes warmth pool deep in your stomach at the reminder of your very sleepless night last night. You’re grateful for the extra boost of caffeine as well, of course–the morning seemed to come far too early after being up half of the night. Sleep had still been hard to come by when you finally returned to the guest room, after all; the conversation about Marcus’s past was still swirling around in your head, and every time you closed your eyes, you could still feel his hands on you. 

You never knew it could feel like this, never knew how good it could be with someone who really knew what they were doing. Someone so giving, so gentle and yet so ruthless in pursuing your pleasure. Someone brimming with passion, capable of both the softest prase and the most depraved filth in the same sentence.

If you had thought your thirst would be sated after finally getting what you’d fantasized about and more, you were a fool. The flame burns hotter than ever this morning, and the sight of Marcus in a suit with not a hair out of place only makes you think about how he had looked between your legs last night–that devilish smirk as he teased about wanting to taste you.

You wonder if you’ll ever see him that way again, or if last night was a fluke. 

Had he noticed when your fingers had trembled around the coffee cup he handed you? 

He had given you a soft, tender stare when you had first entered the kitchen, but that’s the only evidence you can find so far that Marcus is even half as affected as you feel. You can still feel him this morning, a subtle ache between your legs when you sit down, and you wish you could see some outward sign on him that this actually happened.

“Not really sure,” Emma answers Marcus’s question. “Kind of ran out of stuff to see.”

“Impossible,” Marcus chuckles. “Well, you can hang out here if you want, or if you're really looking for a distraction, you can come to the office with me.”

“The fucking FBI office?” Emma asks. “Are we allowed?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you be?” Marcus shrugs. “Plus, I might be able to set up some time for you to talk to someone in Legal,” he says to you. “Are you still interested in that?”

“Oh wow,” you breathe. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies. “I said I would.”

You nod, smiling up at him beatifically. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Perfect,” he grins. “Well, if you’re coming, we’re going to need to leave soon. Are you almost ready?”

“I’m ready,” Emma announces, shouldering her bag.

“Yeah, me too.”

Marcus winks at you, and you try not to let yourself react to it.

“Let’s go, then.”

You had assumed that you’d spend most of your day at the FBI holed up in Marcus’s office, doing nothing. You had imagined that, out of necessity, you’d be barred from attending any meetings or hearing about his department’s day-to-day activities, but when you arrive, his team seems enthusiastic to have you and Emma there. Much to your surprise, they even let the two of you sit in the back of the room while Marcus conducts a briefing. 

You listen, enthralled, as he discusses a recent forgery case that the team is working on. His demeanor, as it is at home, is good-natured and easygoing. He’s easy to smile, and engaging when he talks, and as a result, he utterly commands the room. His style of quiet, unassuming authority has you subtly squirming in your chair. Even though you have no idea what’s being discussed, you can tell simply by listening to his cadence of speech that he’s incredibly knowledgeable, and fucking good at his job. It’s clear he loves the work–and when you think back to the night before and his whispered confession that he had once dreamed of being an artist, you find yourself beaming with happiness that he’s clearly found something he loves to do. 

“People change.”

You suddenly recall his words the very first night you were there–his assurance that it didn’t matter that you had no idea what you wanted to do at your age, because there’s no promise that you’ll still want the same things in ten years. After last night, you realize that he was talking about himself in that moment.

You hope he’s happy and fulfilled.

He deserves it.

You watch him wrap up the meeting–delegating work to each member of the team and asking for updates–and every so often, as his eyes sweep around the room, they always seem to land on you.

As he promised, Marcus introduces you to Kimberley Alexander, the lawyer that his department works with most of the time. You’re nervous at first–you aren’t sure what you’re going to talk about, but you end up staying in her office through lunch, spending almost an hour and a half longer than you had intended, talking about potential jobs with the FBI.

Not because you suddenly have the desire to return to Washington, DC as soon as you can, nope. It does interest you–quite a bit, actually–but you can’t pretend that you aren’t excited at the prospect of living in the same city as Marcus. Would he want to see you again? Is he really interested in you, or is it just the forced proximity–because you’re convenient and available? If you had your own life here, would he be interested in a place in it?

When you find Emma and her dad again, they’ve clearly just come back from lunch. Emma thrusts a container into your hands, which you discover, with an exaggerated moan of satisfaction, is pad Thai.

“Must have been a good talk,” Marcus remarks. 

“Yeah, you were there for two hours,” Emma adds.

“It was good,” you nod. “Talked about, y’know, internships and stuff.”

“You wanna live here?” Emma asks, looking surprised and curious.

You try to shrug noncommittally. “Sure,” you say lightly. “It’s as good a place as any, and it would be kind of fun to work for the FBI, right?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you an unbiased answer to that,” Marcus says with a wry smile, “but I think you’d be a great fit.”

Your heart swells at his words. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” he says earnestly. “And I hate to do this, but I’ve gotta run to do a witness interview, and you guys have to stay behind this time.”

You watch as Marcus gives Emma a quick kiss on the forehead, and your eyebrows raise in surprise at the action. They’ve gotten more comfortable around each other in the time you’ve been here, but neither of them had seemed to be very comfortable with physical affection. Marcus, for his part, is always so hesitant–wanting to reach out, but seemingly afraid that he doesn’t deserve it, or worse, that it won’t be received well. You still remember the first day you saw him–when his hand twitched toward his daughter, seemingly desperate to wrap her in a hug, but he hadn’t allowed himself to do it.

What changed?

Marcus glances at you, and gives you a slightly awkward, stiff nod before leaving for his meeting.

You busy yourself with eating lunch, digging into the container they brought you.

“Tomorrow’s the last day, huh?” Emma says conversationally.

You gulp. You’ve purposefully been putting the fact that your time here has an expiration date at the back corner of your mind. Whatever you have with Marcus, it’s temporary by its very nature, and you know it.

You just don’t really want to think about it right now.

“Yup,” you agree, mouth full of noodles. 

“What do you wanna do? I’m kind of out of ideas.”

You shrug. “We could ask Marcus if there’s anything he recommends seeing that we haven’t already been to.”

“I think we should go as far out as the metro line goes,” Emma says.

“Why?”

She shrugs. “See where we end up.”

“Whatever you want,” you tell her. “Last day is up to you.”

“How’s the pad Thai?”

“Good,” you nod, mouth full. “What’d you get?”

“Calamari,” she answers. “Never had it, wanted to try it.”

“How was it?”

“Chewy.”

You laugh, taking another bite of noodles. “Think I’ll stick to my favorite.”

The two of you huddle together on the small, two-seater couch in Marcus’s office, watching YouTube videos and laughing together until he comes back near the end of the day.

Your eyes automatically brighten when you see him return, drinking in the sight of him–the crisp lines of his suit paired with the slightly unruly hair. You discovered last night how soft it is, and how much he loves it when you thread your fingers through it and tug gently. 

He meets your eyes, but quickly drops his gaze, and you try not to sink in disappointment. Did it not mean as much to him as it did to you? Or is he just better at hiding it?

“You two hungry for dinner?” he asks, putting his stuff back in his messenger back and throwing it over his shoulder.

Emma groans loudly beside you. “Gonna be honest, I’m not really feeling dinner.”

“That was a lot of pad Thai,” you agree.

“Good,” Marcus says with a smile. “Me neither. Let’s go home and have a lazy night eating popcorn on the couch.”

The moment you arrive home, though, Emma makes a beeline for the bathroom. 

“She okay?” Marcus asks you.

You grimace at the faint sounds of retching. “Doesn’t sound like it.”

When she emerges again, Marcus hands her a glass of water with a concerned expression. “Everything okay?”

“No,” she mutters pitifully.

“Was it the calamari?” you ask.

“Please don’t say that word ever again,” Emma groans, flopping down on the couch. “Fuck. Everything hurts.”

“What do you need?” Marcus asks, looking a little lost.

“Distraction,” she mumbles. “Long movie or something.”

Emma takes up the entire couch, so you and Marcus have to sit in opposite armchairs while you watch Lord of the Rings. It’s almost unbearable to you, being so close to him and yet not being able to touch, not being able to look at him for fear of giving everything away. If you two were to lock eyes, you know that you wouldn’t be able to hide your reaction to him. So much so that even Emma, who’s still alternating between running to the bathroom and collapsing on the couch, would have no choice but to notice. 

The pull to him feels overwhelming; the only thing you can think of doing is crossing the living room and sinking into his arms. It makes you feel guilty–your best friend has food poisoning, Marucs is trying to help by refilling her water and encouraging her to drink, and here you are, with nothing to do but yearn for your best friend’s dad. 

When the movie is over, it’s late; Marcus brushes Emma’s hair back from her forehead and suggests she go lie down. As she’s stumbling toward the guest room, Marcus touches you for the first time since last night–lightly wrapping his fingers around your wrist while Emma isn’t looking.

Your eyes meet, and he gives you a coal-black stare, trying to communicate without speaking. He nods subtly, and his meaning is easy to understand.

Come to me tonight.

You come to him in the dead of night. You lie awake, listening for Emma’s breathing to even out, and then waiting another thirty minutes after that, just to be safe. 

It’s nearly midnight when you slip into Marcus’s bedroom, but he’s still awake; his lamp is on, and he’s reading a book.

Waiting for you. 

The moment the door creaks open, Marcus casts the book aside without even marking his place, and rises to his feet. He strides forward and you meet him in the middle, a clash of mouths and hands as you come together desperately. 

“Fuck,” he whispers against your lips. “All fucking day, all I could think about was this.”

“Me too,” you mumble hastily in between kisses. 

“No idea how hard it was to concentrate on giving that meeting this morning,” he confesses, “with you in the corner looking at me with those eyes of yours.” 

He grabs your top and pulls it over your head in one swift motion and ducks down to lathe his tongue against your nipple, making you arch against him. 

“Ah!–Really?” you gasp. “I didn’t–you looked so… calm the whole day. Like it didn’t affect you the same way it affects me.”

“Doesn’t affect me?” Marcus repeats incredulously. “Honey, I am out of my mind with wanting you.” He pulls back, his palms cradling your cheeks as he stares at you with a disbelieving smile. “Do you not have any idea what you do to me?” he asks softly. 

Stunned, you shake your head.

Marcus laughs breathlessly, as he reaches down to encircle your wrist with one large hand and brings your hand forward to press against the front of his pants, where you can feel him, hard and straining against the fabric. “You feel that?” he rasps. “Do you fucking feel what you do to me?”

He shoves your flimsy sleep shorts down your legs and all but tosses you onto the bed. He strips off his own shirt and follows you down. “I’ve been half-hard all day,” he confesses. “I had to fuck my own hand in the shower this morning and still,” he groans. “As soon as I picture your face as you fall apart for me, I’m done for.”

“You thought about that?” 

“All fucking day,” Marcus promises. 

“That all you thought about?” you ask, your voice turning coy as you gain more confidence.

He chuckles darkly. “Thought about a lot of things,” he murmurs.

“Such as…?”

“Just–all the ways I want to have you.” 

“Show me,” you demand.

Marcus chuckles again. “Show you what, pretty girl?”

“All the ways that you want me.”

“That would take a lot more time than we currently have,” he says wryly. 

“Then show me how you want me most,” you say. 

“Let me get you ready first,” Marcus murmurs, starting to kiss a path down your body, intent on his destination. 

“No.”

“Hmm?”

“I want it now,” you say frankly.

“Honey–” he protests softly.

“Consider the fact that I’ve done nothing but think about what happened last night and fantasize about what’s going to happen tonight foreplay,” you tell him. “I can’t–I can’t wait. I don’t want it to be slow. I need–I need—” you trail off, searching for how exactly to find the words for what it is that you need. 

Marcus nods slowly, his eyes darkening as he watches you plead for him to take you now.

“You really want me to show you?” he asks quietly.

You nod.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, honey.”

You comply with a shiver, your heart in your throat as you turn around and put yourself on display for him.

Marcus mutters a soft curse behind you as his palm strokes up the skin on the back of your thigh and up over the swell of your cheek. 

You hear him spit in his hand, and you know he's coating himself in it behind you, easing his way in. He does it again, and this time you whimper softly as he cups you, transferring more wetness to your folds. 

"Already so wet," he teases softly. "Tell me if it's too much."

He slides forward, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, and your elbows nearly buckle at the overwhelming feel of it. 

Marcus doesn't wait for you to adjust, this time. He starts thrusting right away, his hands grasping your hips for leverage. He's pressing right on the spot that makes pleasure sing throughout your entire body. Once he's sure that his pace isn't too much for you, he starts giving it to you harder, snapping his hips into you over and over.

Last night was overwhelming in its own way, but this–this is devastating. You thought last night was the most pleasure you could ever feel, but you had no idea that this could wreck you so completely. 

You're crying out with every thrust, each punishing snap of his hips punching little pathetic noises past your lips as you take what he needs to give you. 

"Shhh," he reminds you. "Gotta stay quiet, honey."

You drop to your elbows, burying your face in the pillows to try and muffle the involuntary sounds, but you can tell it isn't enough. 

"M-Marcus," you whimper frantically. "I can't."

"Do you want to stop?" he asks (making you shake your head rapidly), "Or do you want me to help you be quiet?"

You nod frantically, although you have no idea what he means. You'd do anything to keep feeling his cock like this. 

Marcus’s hand wraps tightly around your mouth, quieting your cries and forcing you to breathe through your nose. Something about the action makes your pussy clench violently, and Marcus makes a quiet groan of pleasure above you. 

He fucks you harder and faster, one hand sliding underneath you to rub tight circles over your clit. 

"Cum for me," he rasps brokenly above you. “Fuck, please–” 

The soft plea is enough to end you. You wail into Marcus’s hand as you come undone, and he tightens his grip, muffling the sound. 

It doesn’t take long for him to follow–just a couple more minutes of brutal thrusts that have you whimpering into his hand, oversensitive from your orgasm. The minute he stills, his cock slips from you as he immediately collapses on the bed and pulls you into his arms. You’re both still breathing heavily, but he smooths the hair back from your forehead as he looks you over.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “That was a lot, I’m sorry.”

“‘Re you kidding?” you slur. “That was… amazing.”

Marcus laughs and pulls you close again. “I’m glad,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his words. 

“Can I stay here for a little longer?” you ask. “Just a little.”

Marcus pulls back again and looks down at you with an amused smile. “It’s cute that you think I’m done with you, honey.”

Your eyes widen. “You’re not?”

“Mm-mm. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the way you look when you come undone,” he murmurs, tracing the tip of his index finger down the side of your cheek. “You didn’t think I’d be satisfied with just once tonight, did you?”

You giggle. “I guess not.”

He fixes you with a fiery look. “Do you trust me?” he asks quietly. 

“...Yeah?”

He raises one eyebrow. 

“Yes,” you answer, with more conviction this time. “Yes, I trust you.”

Marcus kisses you tenderly before sitting back on his heels beside you. His fingertips trail down your chest, over the peaks of your nipples, and down your stomach, as though he can’t get enough of the feel of your skin. One hand travels further down, stroking the soft patch of hair on your pubic bone before he slips one finger gently inside you. 

You cringe slightly at the wet squelch of your combined release, but Marcus shushes you gently. “Love how wet you get,” he teases affectionately. “And I like knowing I’m there inside of you.”

You clench involuntarily at his words, your lips parting as you exhale shakily. 

He chuckles. “You like that? You like knowing that I get off on the idea of you carrying a little piece of me with you?” he asks, as he starts to slowly fuck you with one finger.

“What if I told you that I was thinking about it during that meeting this morning?” he continues. “I kept wondering if there was still a little in there from last night, leaking into your underwear as I talked.”

“Shit,” you mumble. “Marcus.”

“Wanna fill you up again tonight,” he remarks casually. “So it’s still there when you’re walking around tomorrow.” He groans softly. “Fuck–Can I–Can I give you my number? I–I want you to text me. Tell me you can still feel me.”

“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Yes.”

“Good.” He adds a second finger and presses the heel of his hand against your clit, working you up to another orgasm exactly how he now knows gets you off quickly. When you start to clench around him, though, he doesn’t stop. He starts to rub quickly back and forth on that little spot inside of you until something else starts to build. 

“M-Marcus,” you murmur. “W-Wait, I–something is–”

“Shhh.” He keeps going, rubbing harder and faster until he suddenly rips his fingers from you as you gush around them, soaking his hand and the bed.

“Oh! Shit,” you cry out, panicking. “What the f–”

“Fuck, yes,” Marcus groans, the sound coming deep from within his chest. “Oh, fuck, do that again.”

When he notices your expression of utter shock, though, he pauses, a slow smile of understanding spreading across his face. 

“Honey,” he says soothingly. “Was that the first time?”

You stare up at him, mouth hanging open. “I… I kind of always thought that was a myth,” you admit, ducking your head in embarrassment. 

“Oh, baby,” he breathes softly. “No, it’s definitely not.”

He lays down beside you again, gently tucking a wisp of stray hair behind one ear. “That was so good,” he praises softly. “So good to me.”

You smile shakily, but something is starting to nag at you.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus asks, noticing your hesitant expression. 

“I just… feel really inexperienced,” you admit quietly. “You know all this stuff, and I–it must be tedious, having someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, or–”

“No,” Marcus interrupts, his voice full of sincerity. “It’s not tedious at all. On the contrary,” he says with a little laugh, “the fact that I get to show you… that I’m the only one who can get you to do something you didn’t even know you could do–Well, shit,” he says with a crooked grin. He reaches down and palms his cock, which is hard and weeping again. “Look at what it does to me, huh?”

“Does that mean you’ll fuck me again?” you ask eagerly.

Marcus chuckles at your enthusiasm. “I did say I was going to fill you up one more time, didn’t I?”

When you wake up (in your bed, next to Emma, after sneaking back into your own room after Marcus was finally finished with you in the wee hours of the morning), your travel companion is decidedly not ready to go. 

“I feel like I’ve been run over by a train,” she grumbles. “And my stomach is still in fucking knots.”

“We can just stay around the house,” you offer.

“I don’t want you to lay around being bored just because of me,” she protests, flopping down on the couch with a groan.

“Not feeling any better?” Marcus asks, coming into the living room. 

“No,” Emma pouts. “I’m gonna stay here and rest.”

“What are you going to do?” he asks, looking over at you.

You shrug. “I don’t really know. Stay here too, probably.”

“How about this,” Marcus says carefully. “I’m supposed to be going to the National Gallery of Art today to give a little talk about forgery detection. If you wanted to come, we could… walk around the museum a bit, afterward?”

You try to keep your face neutral at the prospect of spending a day with Marcus. Alone. 

“Sure,” you say, hoping it sounds nonchalant. “Could be fun.” 

“Great,” he says lightly. “It’s a d–it’s a plan.”

It’s a date.

You’re giddy as you wave goodbye to Emma–who’s watching daytime TV and holding a bottle of Gatorade–and follow Marcus out of the door. 

As soon as the door shuts, he rounds on you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you soundly. “So glad you said yes,” he says breathlessly. 

“Why wouldn’t I say yes to that?” you tease. “Spending the day with you.”

“I don’t know,” Marcus murmurs playfully, capturing your lips again. “Good question.”

“Is this a date?” you ask coyly.

He pauses, lips parting in surprise. “Do you want it to be?”

Taking a big leap of faith, you nod. 

Marcus’s expression softens, and he threads your fingers together. “Then it’s a date.”

After his talk–which you listen to with eager eyes and rapt attention–the two of you stroll slowly through the galleries, talking. Marcus occasionally stops, taking in the artwork, and tells you little tidbits of information about each piece. He seems to be using the quiet setting as an excuse to keep you as close as possible; his arm wraps around your waist as he leans down and talks quietly in your ear, making goosebumps rise on the back of your neck whenever he speaks. He seems to know the effect on you–you had no idea art could be described so sensually. 

You lose the afternoon to each other; having lunch in a small cafe and then walking down the National Mall, hand in hand.

You pick up a sandwich for Emma, just in case she’s feeling better, on your way home. As you get closer and closer, every step starts to feel heavier and heavier. You never want this to end. 

Just before you arrive at his building, Marcus stops and spins you around, cupping your cheek and pulling you to him for a soft kiss. 

“Today was–” he starts, but breaks off, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” you agree.

“Listen, I don’t–I don’t know what your plans are after you leave tomorrow, but–”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

You’re both dancing around something big–both of you afraid to say what you really mean, and you know it, but you can’t bring yourself to take the leap. 

You had been hoping that Marcus would.

“It was nice,” you say lamely. 

“It was,” he agrees softly. 

Emma is looking a little less green when you arrive back home, and accepts the sandwich eagerly. 

“Sorry about today,” she says, her mouth full. “I don’t know what the hell that was.”

“It was the cal–”

“Don’t fucking say it.”

At first, when you hear Emma start to fall asleep beside you, you're paralyzed. You want to go to Marcus. This is your last night; if you want to say goodbye, you need to go to him this one last time.

You just don't know if you can face goodbye.

You don't know if you can face him. 

You aren't under any reservations about what this is. Marcus is a man, and you're nothing special. You're also nearly half his age. You gave him 'fuck me' eyes for three days, and he when he gave in to the temptation, you came willingly. But this was never meant to be a long-term arrangement. 

It was never meant to be in the first place.

You just wish your first time hadn't been with the total package. Marcus is sweet, kind, attentive, and can apparently make you cum like it was a competitive sport. How are you supposed to go back home, back to being around boys your age, and expect them to measure up?

You debate staying in bed. It would be the easiest thing to do. You could begin tonight: stuffing your feelings down and burying them deep, never letting them see the light of day again. You were on spring break, and this was a fun romp. A fling. You could leave it there and never give Marcus the goodbye he probably deserves. 

On the other hand… 

What's the harm in delaying for one more night?

You slip into his room for the third time in three days, and carefully close the door behind you. Marcus is shirtless in bed, and he beckons you over with a crooked, affectionate smile. 

"Fancy seeing you here, beautiful," he says, drawing the covers back with a playful raise of his eyebrow. 

Despite your heavy mood, you can't help but grin back and enthusiastically hop into bed beside him. 

He takes advantage immediately, grabbing you and turning you, and pulling you back against his chest with a playful growl. You're caged tightly in his arms, and there's nowhere you'd rather be.  

"This is nice," you hum contentedly. 

"Oh yeah? This all you want? Just a little cuddle?" Marcus teases, nipping gently at your shoulder. 

"What if it was?" You wiggle your hips playfully against his hardening cock.

"If that was all you wanted? Then I'd think really hard about dead puppies and my childhood neighbor Mrs. Fitzwilliam in order to calm myself down a little," he answers. 

"Mrs. Fitzwilliam?" you laugh. "Why?"

"When I was a little boy, I was convinced she was a witch. I couldn't so much as talk to her for years."

"Stop it, no you did not."

"I wouldn't joke about that," he laughs. "I was really scared of her!"

"Do me a favor and don't think about her," you tease. "I like how it feels against me."

"Would feel better somewhere else," Marcus says darkly. 

"Have somewhere in mind, do you?"

"I've had it on my mind all day," he says softly. 

"Show me," you murmur. "Show me what's been on your mind all day."

"Wanna know what I was picturing while I was giving that little forgery talk?" Marcus asks.

"Obviously."

"Then sit up, pretty girl."

He loosens his hold on you and you sit up, unable to keep the grin off your face. He sits up too, gently taking hold of the hem of your shirt and drawing it up over your head. He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your shorts. 

"Help me out with these," he commands quietly. 

You shimmy them down your hips and kick them off, still kneeling before him, now completely bare. Marcus sits back on the headboard and pats his thigh suggestively, giving you a wicked smile. 

"C'mere."

You giggle and bite your lip nervously as you crawl forward and straddle him.

"Wanna see you just like this," he murmurs. 

"I–I've never–"

"I know," he interrupts with a wry smile. "I've got you. Just wanna see you like this," he confesses, palming your jaw and rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone.

Your eyes start to flutter shut as you feel the tip of him breach you as you sink slowly down. 

"Eyes on me, honey." 

With a shaky breath, you open them again, holding Marcus's intense gaze as you impale yourself on his cock. Your lips part, eyebrows pinching together at the stretch of him–you don't think you'll ever get used to the feeling of being broken open for the first time. 

"That's it," he whispers. "Just like that." 

You slowly rock your hips, rising up and sinking back down again. You feel so full like this; your lips part and a breathy gasp escapes you as you feel the drag of Marcus’s cock inside of you. 

This is the first time you've chased your own pleasure with him like this; Marcus's eyes rake over your form greedily and as you ride him, you start to feel overly conscious of his scrutiny.

"Do I look okay?" you ask shyly.

Marcus makes a disbelieving noise and surges up, his hands starting to guide the movement of your hips as he kisses you messing, trailing from your mouth to your neck as he flexes up into you.

"Are you kidding?" he asks softly. "You're ethereal. A fucking goddess in my bed. And if you're thinking about that, I'm not fucking you right."

"That's a lie," you say with a lazy smile. "You're very thorough."

"Oh yeah? You like how I fuck you?"

"Mmmhmm," you hum. "Liked what you were doing last night."

Marcus chuckles deep in his throat. "Is that so? Cum for me like this, honey, and I'll put you on your knees again."

When his thumb presses into your clit, rubbing in small circles, it doesn't take you long to start to feel the pleasure growing in your core. You start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, no longer caring if your body is jiggling too much or that your face might look silly contorted with pleasure; all you can think about is chasing that feeling that’s building inside of you. Marcus helps you along, thrusting up into you, and you swear he must get deep enough to feel the very end of you. 

He whispers little praises and encouragements in your ear in that deep, raspy way his voice gets when he’s drunk on pleasure. You can recognize all his little foibles, now–the way he wiggles his wrist back and forth when something’s on his mind, the way he talks with his hands when he’s passionate about a subject, and the way he sounds when he comes undone.

You’re going to carry all of those things with you, now–the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way he raises one eyebrow when he’s being playful, and the way he sometimes mouths along to the words of his favorite old movies.

Is it possible to miss someone so completely after just one week?

You’re so deep in your emotions when you cum, you barely even realize that you’re about to until you’re clenching hard around him, grinding down on his cock as he works you through it, guiding your hips with his fingers pressing hard into your skin.

You’re still in a daze as Marcus flips you over, depositing you on your back and then turning you over onto your stomach on the bed. Rather than pull you up to your knees like the night before, he straddles you like this and sinks back into you, draping himself over your back as he starts to really fuck you.

Oh. This might be your favorite position yet–it’s the same angle as it was last night with the added bonus of getting to feel the weight of this man pressing down on you. His chest is against your back, his ragged breaths in your ear. His elbows cage your face and he entangles your fingers together over your head. It’s a sensory overload in nearly every way, and you’re drowning in the feel of him.

It’s so good that you feel your core start to tighten again.

“So soon?” Marcus teases breathlessly in your ear. “Fuck, I can feel you shaking. How are you so fucking perfect, hmm? You always feel like you were made to take me.”

His words inexplicably cause a lump to build in your throat. Made to take him, but this couldn’t, by definition, last. The statement only makes you wish that your compatibility didn’t have to be so fucking temporary. 

You’re teetering on a precipice–on the verge of both an orgasm and inexplicable tears. When Marcus gently brushes the shell of your ear with his lips and murmurs one last, soft sentence, you finally succumb to both.

“You can let go, honey. I’ve got you.”

You convulse with a wet sob, pleasure and sorrow overtaking you simultaneously. Blessedly, with your face buried in the pillow, Marcus doesn’t notice yet; he starts fucking into you with abandon until he lets go with a deep groan in your ear. 

When he finally stills, and he starts peppering kisses across your shoulder blade, you can feel him stiffen when he realizes that, mortifyingly, there are tears on your cheeks.

“Shit,” Marcus breathes. He carefully slips out of you and turns you over underneath him, quickly brushing the tears at the corners of your eyes. He kisses them away, whispering softly to you.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks frantically. “Honey, look at me.”

“No!” you exclaim emphatically. “No, I–I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“Talk to me,” he demands softly.

“I don’t–I don’t want to go home,” you whisper. “I don’t want this to end.”

“Oh, honey,” Marcus whispers. “Really?”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sure this is exactly what you’re looking for–for some girl to get attached to you after one whole week of knowing you…”

Marcus smiles and brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. “Attached to me?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” you say. “You’re just really nice, and you’re gorgeous, and you’ve been so good to me–”

“Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Please don’t cry.”

"Sorry," you say again.

"Hey," he says softly, still stroking your cheek. "You know something? You're wrong. You're not 'some girl.' You're sweet, and funny, and cute, and maybe having this girl right here be attached to me after one whole week of knowing me is exactly what I'm looking for."

"What are you suggesting?" you ask bluntly. 

“All I’m suggesting is that we stay in touch,” Marcus answers. “No pressure, no expectations. We talk, and we get to know each other better, and when you graduate, Miss Pre-Law,” he teases, lightly touching the tip of your nose, “if you still feel the same way, come back to me. Go to Law School at Georgetown. Get an internship at the FBI. And whatever it is that you do, I know of a place you can stay.”

"You'd really want that?" you ask, a slow smile starting to spread across your face.

"I'd be a fool not to grab onto this with both hands," he murmurs, stroking his hand down your side. "A damn fool."

"What about Emma?"

Marcus pauses, biting his lip. "She's a grown woman," he says carefully, "and I haven't had much of a place in her life growing up. I would hope that… once we see where this goes–if it goes anywhere–she'd understand."

You nod slowly. "Okay."

"I've rushed into things in the past," he says softly. "More than once. But I'm not in any rush right now. I want to take my time, get to know you, and if you're still looking at me the way you're looking at me right now in a year, I'll consider myself a lucky man."

Your smile is brilliant. "I'd like that."

"I'd like that, too. And that means tomorrow isn't goodbye, anymore." 

"No?"

"Nope," Marcus says with a grin. "Just 'see you later.'"

"Can I still get a goodbye kiss?" you ask.

He shakes his head playfully, but his lips descend to meet yours anyway. 

"Not a goodbye kiss," he teased.

"A 'see you later' kiss," you correct. 

"A 'you are so goddamn beautiful that I can't help to kiss you' kiss."

"You're making this too complicated."

"An 'I'll call it whatever I damn well please' kiss."

"An 'everything's gonna be alright' kiss?" you ask hopefully. 

Marcus smiles and kisses you long and deep. "Especially that."

– – – – – 

One year later…

“May I present: the graduating class of 2024.”

Along with Emma and the rest of the seniors in the auditorium, you throw your mortar-board hat into the air, shrieking happily as someone else’s crashes down on your head, instead. 

“Fucking finally!” Emma shouts beside you, and you grin widely. 

The last year has been a whirlwind for the both of you, and you know it. 

After reconnecting with her dad, Emma made an effort not to lose touch again. Eventually, he had opened up about his past and the circumstances surrounding his divorce, and at her urging, even began the process of making peace with her mom. They even had Christmas together, for the first time since Emma was two. 

And how do you know all this?

Well, Marcus hadn’t lost touch with you, either. 

True to his word, you both took your time and got to know each other from a distance. Talking to him was still as easy as breathing, and you’d spend entire nights at the beginning staying up far too late and talking well into the wee hours of the morning. 

It wasn’t hard to see that the something that was between you was still there and not going away any time soon. And the only thing you’ve found so far that rivals the strength of your friendship is the passion that you continue to have for each other in the bedroom.

Marcus would make trips when he could–some visits ostensibly to see Emma and other, more secret trysts where his only aim was to see you. (And see you he did; on most occasions, he’d barely let you out of his hotel room.)

Your beginning may have been a meteoric collision–two people forced into proximity that had no choice but to fall into each other–but the growth of your resulting love was slow and careful.

Eventually, you’d need to tell Emma, but it didn’t feel like the time was quite right, yet. Of course, when she visits you at Georgetown next year and you give her not your own address, but her father’s, the two of you will have to come clean. 

Right now, though, as you and Emma weave through the crowds of people looking for Marcus, you’re content to keep things the way they are. Everything is slowly falling into place, and that piece of the puzzle will fit into the rest when it’s ready.

“There she is!”

Emma beams as she hears Marcus call out, waving his hand frantically to catch your attention among the sea of people. 

She lets herself be crushed into a hug, her father grinning proudly and murmuring something unintelligible into her ear. After a few minutes, he releases her and turns to you.

“Congratulations,” he says–perfunctorily, but warmly. 

“Thank you.”

After a couple of beats, Emma rolls her eyes.

“Would you just kiss her already? Honestly, it’s more weird that you’re not.”

Two sets of eyes swivel to her in alarm.

“You… you knew?” you exclaim.

Emma gives you a disbelieving look. “Okay, the fact that you two both think you were being subtle means you might actually be meant for each other. Wow.”

“How?” you choke out.

“Are you serious? You two had bizarre energy when you met, and ever since, I see you smiling at your phone all the time,” Emma says to you. “And after that week, whenever he’s come to visit, you both act weird around each other.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

“Plus, you had a hickey on your neck one morning,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Real subtle.”

Oops. You shoot Marcus a look, and notice that he’s as red as a tomato. 

“Em,” he starts, looking pained.

“It’s fine,” she interrupts. “Look, it’s not like we had the closest of relationships when I was a kid. I'm getting to know you as an adult, and it just feels different than it would be if you had raised me. I’m not going to say it doesn’t make me feel fucking weird, and I don’t ever wanna know details about your sex life and I am not calling you ‘mom,’ but I guess I’ll just say… I get it. You two are oddly similar, and I wouldn’t want to stand in between you and happiness. Because I… you know. I love you.”

“Emma,” Marcus says, his smile turning watery for a moment. 

“Don’t… make a big deal out of it,” she grumbles.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughs, and gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead. “I love you too, Emmie.”

He pulls back and looks at you, his eyes sparkling, and you feel your insides start to heat up just from his gaze alone.

Those words are still new, between you–the first time was whispered softly in his ear in the darkness after spending all night wrapped around each other just a couple of months ago. Marcus whispered them back immediately after; he was achingly patient and careful to take his time with you, even though you’d felt that emotion emanating from each of you for months prior.

It was just–you didn’t want to rush things. Love was new to you. Everything was. And if Marcus was going to be your first experience with all of it, you had a feeling that you were going to want to savor it.

You know he feels the same.

Stepping forward, Marcus gently tips your chin up to meet him in a gentle kiss. The shape of his lips are so familiar now, you could probably draw them in your sleep. You know the way they move against yours. You know how it feels when he smiles against your mouth–which he does often, and right now.

“Congratulations,” he murmurs again. This time, the word is dark and full of underlying emotion–love, affection, friendship, pride–and you grin back as you kiss him once more.

“What now?” you ask with a little laugh.

“I have a few ideas,” he husks in your ear, inaudible to anyone else, before pulling back. “But right now?” he shrugs. “Anything you want. Everything.”

“What if I said that all I wanted was you?”

Marcus’s eyes soften. “Well, honey,” he says gently, “you’re in luck, because that’s the one thing I can give you.”

The end.