#oh no my spicy sundress thoughts turning softe

[pinayelf-archive]

Hear me out….blushing m…..

[lalainajanes]

For klarosummerbingo, my “mango lassi” square! Did I order Indian food for dinner? Yes, yes I did.

Masks Off

When she notices the goon tailing her – shaved head, seasonally inappropriate leather jacket, neck tattoos – Caroline’s pissed off.

And exhausted.

She’d spent all day cooped up in the boardroom at Forbes Industries, listening to men twice her age complain about dividends and try to suggest that workers didn’t really need a raise subtly.

It had been a tedious and pointless exercise, one she suffers quarterly. Caroline holds 51% of the company’s shares and can easily wrangle another block of shareholders into voting with her. Her parent’s wills, read out fourteen years ago, had bequeathed a stake in FI to several loyal employees. People they’d loved, who’d stepped in to help raise Caroline after they’d passed.

The board knows she has the final say, and it kills them. They think she’s an idiot, that she’d bought her degrees and can’t comprehend the financial statements. They try to ply her with compliments and flattery, attempt unsubtle fibs – Caroline plays dumb and tolerates the bullshit because she knows she can control them. Another board might not be so easy to manipulate.

She’d had a headache by the time the meeting had wrapped, had been so grateful to see Enzo waiting at the curb. She’d practically dived into the backseat of the town car, had rolled the partition down, and enjoyed a satisfying debrief and bitch session on the drive back to her apartment. Enzo had offered to grab her dinner before he went off the clock, but Caroline knew he had a date night planned. She’d shoed him away, told him she’d order in.

Once safely tucked away in her place Caroline had gotten restless.

She’d changed out of her boring suit, pulled out the pins in her hair, and loosely braided it back. After changing into a pale blue cotton dress and pair of oversized sunglasses, then selecting a few Forbes Industries prototypes, Caroline had headed out for sustenance.

She hadn’t bothered to let her security detail know. She’s adept at sneaking away under their noses. The detail is mostly for show, to make sure no one connects Caroline Forbes, wild child heiress, to the vigilante who’s working on tidying up the city streets.

She’ll slip into the leather ensemble she’d commissioned once night falls and load up with weapons. Then she’ll head to the garage where she keeps her armored vehicles and larger toys.

There’s a new villain who’s been popping up more and more frequently on her patrols. She hasn’t caught him doing anything untoward just yet, and he’s yet to make the papers and have a ridiculous name bestowed upon him. She’s scoured papers from England, then the rest of Europe, checking to see if there was a reputation that preceded him. So far, she’s found nothing, but  Caroline knows he must be working on something big.

Why else would he be so determined to attract her attention? He must have some kind of plan cooking up, wants her looking in another direction when he enacts it.

The walk to the restaurant had been uneventful. Caroline had to wait a few minutes for her order to be ready, but passing the time on a bench outside, unnoticed, her people-watching undisturbed, had been a nice change from how she’d spent the rest of the day.

It promised to be a hot evening, even though the sun would be setting shortly. Sweat had begun gathering near her hairline, forcing curls out of her braid. Caroline had added a mango lassi to her order and collected her dinner, inhaled appreciatively at the warm, spicy scent emanating from the paper bag.

She’d begun her walk home, sipping her drink contentedly, weaving through the growing number of pedestrians who were venturing out for the evening.

She’d noted the guy shadowing her about three blocks from her building, had heaved a dramatic sigh that had the guy waiting for the walk light with her edging away.

She’d just wanted to stuff herself with naan, biryani, and saag paneer and become one with her couch for a few hours before she went out to take out her frustrations on some bad guys. Was that too much to ask?

Caroline takes a turn, heading east to where there should be fewer people, reaching into her bag to slide her fingers into the modified brass knuckles (not actually brass but a proprietary FI compound) and grasping the extendable baton.

She takes another turn to check that she’s not paranoid, but the goon mirrors it.

As does another person.

Caroline pretends to adjust the strap of her dress, twisting her head to get a better look at her second pursuer. It’s an impressively muscular woman, her considerable height only enhanced by her spiked hair, dressed in skin-tight shorts and a mesh crop top.

She doesn’t seem to mind that Caroline’s spotted her, wiggling her fingers and offering a challenging smile.

There are two possibilities. Either the people following her are cocky and stupid – really the ideal scenario – or they’re cocky because they’ve got a solid plan and some big guns.

When a hand grabs her upper arm and yanks her into an alley, spilling the mango lassi and staining her dress, Caroline suspects it might be the latter. She’s thrown against a wall, just managing to get her hands up to save her face from being smashed into the brick.

She hears footsteps pounding against concrete, and the two pursuers she’s noticed join the man who’d yanked her into the alley. Regretfully, Caroline drops her takeout and her bag and backs away, hiding her weapons in the folds out of the skirt. She forces a quaver into her voice, “What do you want?”

It’s unlikely that three people who seem to have stepped right out of the goon for hire catalog have just decided to rob her. Caroline doesn’t want to assume there’s a larger plot. She’s hoping this won’t turn into a big thing, and she’s out of luck if people are planning to kidnap Caroline Forbes for ransom.

But it’ll be even messier if a bad guy’s clocked her extracurricular activities.

The spiky-haired woman takes the lead, stalking towards Caroline. She’s got a knife in her hand now, “What do I want? Twenty million dollars, to start with.”

Oh good. It’s just a kidnapping.

Honestly, kind of an insulting one. She won’t even have to liquate any assets to come up with the twenty million. Caroline stops moving, straightens her spine. “Done!” she chirps brightly. “Wire transfer, or cheque? I can do cash too, but that’s like ten briefcases. What are you going to do with them after?”

She’s been hoping to catch her attempted kidnapper off guard, but the woman doesn’t falter. She snorts, “You’re funny. I didn’t expect that.”

“Thanks, I get that a lot. I’m chock full of surprises.”

Spike lunges forward, and Caroline dodges, stepping past her and whipping her arm out, until her weapon lengthens fully. She crouches, extending her leg and spinning while slashing with her baton. Caroline lands a brutal strike on Spike’s kidneys. Spikes grunts, stumbles forward, arm banding over her stomach protectively. Caroline completes her spin and rises, catching Spike with a punch before she pauses, poised on the balls of her feet, back to a wall.

Her would-be kidnappers no longer look as confident. Spikes spits blood, expression enraged. The other two watch Caroline with calculative gazes.

“Girls gotta keep in shape, right? The tabloids are brutal. It turns out the elliptical is super boring, so I had to find something a little more fun.” Caroline leaps forward, tucking into a roll, snagging a brick from the ground and using her momentum to throw it into Leather Jacket’s face.

The brick makes contact with a gross crunch of blood, bone, tissue, and teeth. Leather Jacket howls, his hand coming up to cover his head. She jumps again, thighs locking around his neck, spinning to bring him to the ground. She digs her knee into his spine, gripping his head and slamming it into the ground for good measure until he goes limp underneath her.

Caroline stands, wiping her hand on her already ruined dress. “One down,” she says.

Only to instantly regret the proclamation. Bonnie says she needs to lay off on the monologuing, and maybe she’s got a point.

She senses movement behind her, near the mouth of the alley. Caroline turns warily, head swiveling between her two attackers and the men who are now freaking rappelling from the rooftops. Six of them. In black tactical gear, strapped with weapons and wearing black ski masks.

Well, crap.

If she’d been on patrol, with her protective suit and gadgets, she might have been able to take them. Now, in flats and a sundress, with two flimsy weapons and no backup, she doesn’t like her odds.

Caroline tosses the baton aside, pastes on the smile she uses when she has to ignore paparazzi shouting rude questions about her sex life at her. She lifts her hands slowly, palms open. “So, I’m guessing you don’t only want cash, huh?”

“Funny and smart,” Spikes says spitefully, coming up behind Caroline and yanking her hair. “What a rosy life you must lead.”

She feels a sharp sting in the side of her neck, then a flood of wooziness. Brief pain when she collapses.

She’s vaguely aware of being heaved up and over someone’s shoulder, of being alarmed by how her limbs won’t cooperate when she tries to fight back. She’s tossed in a trunk, encased in blackness.

Caroline fights it, the tiredness, her thoughts growing meandering and disorganized. When the engine rumbles to life underneath her, Caroline loses consciousness.

* * * * *

Caroline realizes she’s tied to a chair as soon as awareness returns.

She can hear voices murmuring, too soft for her to make out any words even when she strains. Caroline’s slumped over, pulling against the ropes. She’s definitely going to have some fun bruises tomorrow. Her head’s resting limply against her chest, and she stays as still as she can, barely opening her eyes while trying to get a good look at her surroundings.

Unfortunately, she seems to be in a pretty generic warehouse—grimy, smelly, cavernous, decorated with random overlapping graffiti.

She spots a tray of shiny, sharp medical instruments to her right.

Which is not ideal.

Caroline tests her bonds slowly, checking for any give or weakness. Any kind of opportunity. One of her captors has eagle eyes and notices her movements. She flinches when his voice booms out, “Sleeping beauty awakes!”

Damn it.

Caroline lifts her head, rolling her neck to work out the cramp that’s developed. “I prefer the modern Disney princesses, thank you.” She’s not the type to wait around for a handsome prince to come to her rescue.

She studies the guy who’d spoken. He’s got steel-grey hair and tanned skin, thick biceps. His face doesn’t show even a hint of emotion, and he doesn’t acknowledge she’d spoken. She’d guess he’s a pro, probably some variety of ex-military, likely expensive. Caroline hears the clomp of heavy boots and twists her head to see some familiar faces joining the party.

Moderately damaged familiar faces, but she’s not sorry about that.

“So about that ransom,” Caroline begins hopefully. “Twenty-five million, was it?”

The guy who’d taken a brick to the face grunts, “Thirty now. For our trouble.”

Caroline can admit that’s fair.

“I get it. Plastic surgery’s not cheap. Not that I’ve had any work done, despite what the tabloids might claim. I’m only twenty-seven. Of course my boobs look fantastic in a bikini.”

No one even cracks a smile.

“Okay, so you’re not interested in jokes. We could discuss the fact that it’s super gross that people follow me around the world and stalk me with long-lens cameras. Am I not entitled to take a vacation?”

No response.

Caroline sighs, shifting in her chair in an attempt to get more comfortable. “Tough crowd.”

Spike drags a second chair over, sitting down and resting a booted foot on her opposite knee. “Thirty million dollars. I have a list of six prisoners that I need to be released from the Super Max. And I want something from the Forbes Industries Vault. The subterranean one that most of your employees don’t know about.”

Caroline tips her head back, considering. Thirty million dollars, no big deal. The prisoners might be hard to arrange, but she’s got connections. She knows exactly who she’d need to bribe. She can always scoop them up later, wrap ‘em in a pretty little bow and leave them on the steps of city hall.

The Vault though? That’s not happening. She’s going to have to figure out how they even know about it, who else might have bought the info, but that’s a problem for later.

“How about fifty million dollars and a couple of extra prisoners? Maybe someone from the asylum?”

Spike leans over, her hand drifting over the tray of instruments. She plucks up one with a serrated edge, twirling it through her fingers. “I know you’re used to snapping your fingers and getting everything your little heart desires, but this isn’t a negotiation.”

She leans forward, resting the blade against the dip between Caroline’s collarbones. She taps it against Caroline’s skin with each carefully enunciated word, “Money. Prisoners. Vault.” She pulls back, gives the instrument another spin. “That’s my only offer. You can say yes, and we’ll give you a phone, so you’re servants can start arranging things. Or, we can do this the hard way.”

She doesn’t insult Caroline’s intelligence by spelling out what the hard way would entail.

Caroline swallows, straightens her spine. “No one gets in my vault.”

Spike sighs in faux disappointment, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “The hard way it is, then.”

Caroline closes her eyes, holds her breath, waits for the first cut to come.

It doesn’t come from where she’d expected.

Glass shatters from high above, showering down, leaving dozens of tiny nicks across her bare shoulders. She feels a rush of air before a body landing in front of her, knees bent.

A familiar man, one who’s been taking up way too much of Caroline’s free time, smirks at her, “Hello, love.”

Caroline gapes at him, and he pivots, backing up until her bent knees brush the back of his calves. She sees few bright flashes, but his back obscures her view of what’s happening. Whatever he’s doing, it’s painfully loud. Popping sounds interrupt shouts and screams of pain, and heavy thuds ring out. Caroline cringes, tucking her ear against her shoulder in an attempt to muffle the cacophony.

Silence, when it comes, scant moments after the chaos began, is jarring. Caroline leans as far to the side as she can, eyes widening when she spots the pile of bodies. She watches as the man, who she doesn’t know if she can call her rescuer since at this point he might also be planning on ransoming her, yanks a handful of zip cuffs from his pocket.

He moves swiftly and with grace, seemingly very at home his body and aware of its capabilities. Caroline’s eyes narrow, mind whirling as he secures her attackers, and she tries to assimilate this new information. He pulls off his leather gloves when he’s done, returning to her side. His expression grows regretful, and his fingertips brush her shoulders, skimming over the cuts and scrapes there. “Sorry about these. The skylight was the best entry point. Make sure you clean them up, hmm?”

He steps passed her, and Caroline feels him make quick work of her handcuffs. She hears the snick of a knife unsheathing and stiffens, but he only uses it on the ropes that bind her legs and torso. Caroline shakes them off, stands hesitantly.

“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms and turning until they’re once more face to face, separated by the metal chair. “What exactly is happening here? Who are you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not yet ready for you to know my identity. In due time, I promise.”

Caroline sucks in a sharp breath, her teeth grinding together. “Um, how about no?”

He blinks, and Caroline steps a little closer. They’ve always met in the dark, and he’d purposely stuck to the shadows as he’d teased and tossed questions at her. She’s never been this close to him. His eyes are blue, his lashes annoyingly long in a way men never appropriately appreciate. He wears a black mask, covering from the top of his forehead to his upper lip. His hair is slicked back, but she thinks it might be on the lighter side, given the shade of his stubble.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight, but he doesn’t step back or shy away. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“I have had a garbage day. It was long, it was boring, I had to argue over things I know I’m right about, with people who think I’m a bimbo and spend way too much time trying to look down my tops. My dinner got tossed aside when goons r us scooped me up. I love this dress, and it’s ruined. I’m bleeding. I don’t know where my shoes are. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I want to go home!” she’s shouting when she’s done ranting, out of breath.

“Right.” Her rescuer, she’s decided on the term now, shoves the chair aside. He steps forward until his feet bracket hers, wraps his arm around her waist. Caroline grips his biceps, too shocked to admonish this rude invasion of her space. “Hold on. Step up onto my feet.”

She throws her hands up in frustration, “Hello? Did anything I just said sink in?”

His lips, which she’s now noticing are very nice, full and soft looking, compress. She’s pretty sure he’s trying to swallow a laugh. “I heard every word. I’m trying to assist in getting you home. In service of that, if you could please step up onto my feet and hold on.”

His right arm rises, and Caroline recognizes the device in his hand. She’s about to ask him if he’s seriously rescuing her with a device he’d stolen from her but thinks better of it.

He’d stolen the grappling hook from a vigilante who rocks a rose pink leather catsuit, not from Caroline Forbes. It would have been a monster slip, a true testament to how rattled she is from the day’s events that she’d almost blurted out her secret identity to a guy with questionable motives and an unknown name.

Instead, she smiles tightly, loops her arms around his neck, and gingerly steps onto his heavy boots. “For future reference,” she says sweetly, “I generally only like following orders in the bedroom.”

The strangled choking noise he makes as they hurtle upward is immensely satisfying.

* * * * *

Two days later, Caroline’s on her couch watching news footage of a gala she’d been supposed to attend. She’d had a great dress, red and scandalous, all ready to go, but trying to cover her scabby shoulders with makeup had made her look like she’d contracted some kind of infectious skin issue.

She’d sent her regrets and a fat check, resigned herself to a solo evening in her comfy sweats. On her TV, a society reporter’s chattering away about the guest she’d just finished talking to, a lech who’s at least smart enough to hire a publicist good enough to hide his dealings with loan sharks. She trails off in the middle of a sentence, fingertips coming up to press at her earpiece.

The reporter looks right at the camera, excitement on her face. “I’ve just been given some breaking news! A surprise guest has arrived, all the way from the UK. Klaus Mikaelson has shied away from public life since his messy exit from his father’s corporation five years ago. He’s built his own tech firm from the ground up. Buzz had been building since they announced their intention to go public. Let’s see if we can get a few words.”

Bored with the fawning, Caroline’s just about to switch channels. She knows all about Klaus’ Mikaelson’s company. Blurbs about it have been showing up in the intelligence reports she has complied since he’d lured a pair of promising engineers from FI’s Paris offices.

She’s planning on investing in his IPO because he might have scummy HR policies, but his business is sound.

There haven’t been many pictures of him available; apparently, he’d hardly been a social butterfly even when he’d been welcome in the family fold. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or so in the ones Caroline’s seen, in which he’d been gangly and angular and sporting a terrible haircut.

The image changes, swinging to the red carpet before Caroline can grab the remote. She pauses, impressed because Klaus Mikaelson has grown up nicely. She might be distracted by the flawless fit of his tux, which Caroline knows can cover a world of sins, so she leans closer as the camera pans up to his face.

And promptly drops her wine class.

The blue eyes. That smile, the dimple it carves into his stubbled cheek. She’d brushed her lips over that cheek barely more than forty-eight hours ago when she’d thanked him for what he’d done for her.

Klaus Mikaelson had accompanied her home the other night, had neatly deflected her probing questions, his amusement never turning to exasperation at Caroline’s dogged persistence.

She’d seriously considered inviting him into her home. She’d told herself it was only in search of more information, but a tiny part of her, the one that was unfailingly honest and sometimes gets her in trouble, had admitted her rescuer intrigued her, even without a name.

Well. Now she has one. A plan forms rapidly, and Caroline scrambles for her phone, digging it out of her couch cushions. She taps the screen, connecting a call to Bonnie. “Bon? Sorry to bug you when you’re off the clock. But I need you to find someone for me.”

She stands, walking into her bedroom as she explains what she needs.

Bonnie’s a genius, well worth the exorbitant salary Caroline pays her. She gets the address within an hour.

* * * * *

Caroline drops a rope onto the terrace of Klaus’ apartment, slips down with barely a whisper of sound, landing lightly. She hugs the side of the building, inching over to the open French doors. She’s fully suited up, hair tightly controlled, and mask on. She eases her foot over the threshold, eyes darting around.

Ugh, of course, he has excellent taste.

Caroline likes light and airy, fun patterns and textures. But she can appreciate the sumptuousness of Klaus’ living room. It’s done up in burgundies and neutrals, hints of gold. There’s a buttery leather sofa facing a fireplace, thick carpets that muffle the sounds of her boots as she walks further in. She can imagine a pleasant night in front of a crackling fire, curled up on the couch when the weather turns cold.

But she’s getting ahead of herself.

Her nose twitches, picking up the smell of curry, cardamom, and turmeric.

She hears a door click shut, whirls to find Klaus, barefoot and still dressed up from The Gala, though he’s ditched the jacket and tie. He leans against the now-closed doors to the terrace. He smiles at her warmly, “Hello, Caroline.”

Which answers one of her most pressing questions.

Caroline yanks her mask off, tossing it aside. “I realize this is going to give you déjà vu, but what exactly is happening here?”

Klaus pushes off from the door, ambles towards her, studying her reaction carefully. Caroline doesn’t flinch away or retreat. “I have a proposition for you. And I have dinner. Takeaway from that place you visited the other day when your evening plans were… interrupted. I even got the mango lassi.”

Caroline narrows her eyes, “I have weapons, you know. Way more than you’d think, given how tight this outfit is.”

He laughs, a low husky sound that Caroline knows would be easy to get addicted to. “I’m sure you do. I’m not worried about you using them on me. I only want you to hear out my proposal. You can leave anytime you wish.”

She wonders if it’s stupid to believe him, but she does. He’d had the upper hand two days ago, had no trouble dispatching the group that had taken her. If he had nefarious intentions, he could have picked up right where they left off with the torture.

Caroline’s learned to trust her instincts. They’re telling her she’s safe.

She tugs her hair out of its elastic, loosens her collar slightly, pulling the zipper down a few inches. “Mind lending me something to wear? This totally isn’t designed for sitting for long periods.”

Klaus directs her to a guestroom, gathers a few things of his for her to wear. When she gets to the dining room, she finds he’s arranged the food on gleaming platters and lit candles. Her mango lassi, in its plastic cup, looks wildly out of place.

Caroline refuses to find it endearing.

At least until she’s confirmed that her instincts are correct.

[hopelikethemoon]

sunflowers (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [Smut]

Title: sunflowers  Rating: Explicit  Length: 3600 Warnings: Smut (pregnancy sex, fingering, cuninglus, they’re so raunchy) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in Februrary 1997. Here is a link to the house that’s described and the dress she’s wearing.  Full disclosure this is not one of my favorite chapters, but YOLO. This is 100% Javier being turned on by the dress she’s wearing. Summary: Javier enjoys the dress Reader chooses to wear. 

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes​ @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow​ @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​  @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim​ @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper​ @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano​

“I can’t wait until we have our own backyard.” You mused as you joined Javier on the porch swing. You had always coveted the Murphy’s backyard, which was ironic considering you had only ever pictured yourself living in an apartment. 

The idea of a house — a real home had never crossed your thoughts. 

You grinned at Javier as you stole the sunglasses off his face, lifting the hem of your sundress to clean them off. You turned to meet his gaze as you pushed them up the bridge of your nose. Sure, you could get your own sunglasses… but where was the fun in that?

Javier slid his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “Hopefully those assholes don’t outbid us again.” He sighed, curling his hand around your hip and giving it a squeeze. 

“Maybe we should let them know who they’re bidding against.” You quipped as you rested your head against his shoulder, watching Josie as she played with Olive and Emily across the yard. They seemed to be in hot pursuit of an iguana or some other Florida-fauna. Steve was keeping a close eye on them. 

You closed your eyes as you tilted your face upwards, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin. “I’m glad the weather held out today. There’s definitely something to be said about seventy degree days in February.” 

“So am I.” Javier reached across to rest his hand on your stomach, his fingers sprawling out over the curve. “I like this dress.”

“Of course you do,” You rolled your eyes and swatted at his leg playfully. 

It was one of your favorite sundresses. You had worn it frequently last summer, but it definitely wasn’t made to be a maternity dress. The hem fell just below your mid-thigh, shorter now that your stomach had claimed extra fabric. And the sunflower pattern was stretched out where the soft fabric clung to your rounded belly. 

You despised the frumpy clothes that all the stores thought pregnant women wanted to wear. When you already feel like you’re becoming a beached whale, why would you want to wear a potato sack? 

This dress was cute… and your boobs looked amazing in it. Which was an added perk to the outfit. 

“What?” Javier feigned innocence as he tilted his head to look at you. 

“Nothing. Nothing.” You laughed and shook your head. You knew exactly where his mind had gone, given the way he was gripping at your hip. “I’m going to go see if Connie needs any help in the kitchen.” You told him as you pressed a quick kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Hey,” Javier grabbed your hand as you started to get up, “I’ll come too, baby.” 

You interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing lightly as you headed through the glass sliding that led into the Murphy’s kitchen. 

You and Javier had always been very physical people. You had never shied away from touching him, even years ago when you were both just friends. But today, you were certain he was being extra touchy. It had started at the condo — he’d held you from behind while you brushed your teeth in the bathroom, followed by his hand on your knee for the duration of the drive over to their house. And now you were certain he hadn’t taken his hands off of you since you arrived. 

“Something smells good,” You remarked as you released his hand and moved towards the stove to look at what Connie was making. You pulled Javi’s  sunglasses off and tucked them into the front of your dress. 

“I’m trying out this new recipe for stovetop enchiladas.” Connie explained, gesturing to the cast iron skillet on the stove. “One of the nurses on the floor gave me the recipe. I’m not sold on it yet.” She smiled at you, “How are you handling spicy food?”

You shrugged a shoulder, “Surprisingly it’s not as much of a trigger as it was with Josie.” You glanced back at Javier, who had his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the kitchen counters. And his eyes were very much on your ass. 

Oh. 

“Javi,” You started with a too-sweet voice, smirking when he met your gaze. He knew you caught him staring. “What do you think of this?” You gestured for him to come closer. 

He pushed off the counter and walked towards the stove, hands on his hips. “Hmm.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head as he looked at the skillet. “I wouldn’t call these enchiladas.” He offered Connie a sympathetic smile. “But it smells good.”

Connie sighed, “Let’s just hope it tastes good too.” She laughed a little as she moved towards the other side of the kitchen to finish working on the bowl of guacamole. 

Javier’s hand moved to rest at the small of your back briefly, smoothing his fingers over your back for he trailed them lower. You bit your lip when he gave your ass a light squeeze. “Hopefully we get the new place.” He remarked, looking towards Connie as his hand lingered on your ass. “We’re looking forward to entertaining.”

“Everyone except Tracy and Jeff.” You added with a laugh. “There’s so much room. I don’t think I’ve ever lived anywhere with that much square footage.”

He nodded in agreement, “I think pop’s ranch is the only place I’ve been that compares.” Javier walker back towards the counter he’d been holding up before, staring across the kitchen at you. 

“I mean I love the condo, but…” You made a face. “I can’t imagine the four of us living in it comfortably.” Your hand went to your stomach. “Plus Josie deserves her own room.”

“And the master walks out to the patio.”

“It also has a massive bathroom.” You pointed out. “That tub would change my life. I haven’t had a bathtub since my first place out of college.” 

Connie shot you a look, “You’re making me jealous! I can’t wait to see it when you have a housewarming party. Because you’re getting it.” 

“Don’t be too jealous.” Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, “It doesn’t have nearly half the backyard you and Steve have.” 

“We traded indoor space for outdoor space.” Connie said as she grabbed something from the fridge. “Luckily the girls don’t mind sharing a room.” 

“If ours decide they want to sleep together, then we’ll have a guest room.” You remarked as you walked over to where Javier was. “There’s plenty of space.” 

Javier shifted closer to you, draping his around your shoulders. “It’ll be nice to have something that’s fully ours. I’ve never bought a house before.” 

“It’s surreal.” You leaned into him, sighing softly. “Hopefully the owners don’t make us wait much longer. I’d like to be able to move in before I look like a beach ball.” 

“You look beautiful,” Javier whispered as he pressed a kiss to the spot just beneath your ear. The way that his breath danced over your skin had goosebumps forming. 

If this was how he was going to handle things two could certainly play that game. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, tilting your head to look up at him. “You’re sweet, Javi.” You said slowly, tracing your fingertips over the patch of skin where his shirt was unbuttoned. “Go see if Steve needs help with the girls.” 

His lips parted, “But—”

You cut him off with a kiss. 

Connie had her back turned towards you both as she tended to the skillet on the stove. And you were just bold enough, thanks to him, to slip your hand a little lower. You lightly grazed your fingers over the slight bulge in his jeans. 

“Later.” You promised, grinning up at him as you pulled away. “Hey Con, do you need any help?”

“Could you get the cheese out?” She requested. “Do you think it would be best to put it in a bowl? That way everyone can choose how much they want.” 

“That sounds like a plan.” You answered as you headed for the fridge.

Javier hadn’t budged from the spot you had left him in and you were fully aware of the fact that he was watching you.

You bent over to get the bad of shredded cheese out of the bottom drawer, knowing that your skirt had risen up the backs of your thighs. 

The glass door slid shut harshly as Javier ducked out of the kitchen quickly. 

 ———

 “What are you doing?” You questioned as you stepped out of the bathroom and found Javier lingering in the hallway. 

“I was waiting for you.” Javier answered before he closed the short distance between the two of you. He pressed you back against the wall. 

You pushed your fingers through his hair, looking up at him as your heart hammered in your chest. “You’re full of yourself today.”

“Baby, you’ve been driving me crazy all day.” He dragged his hands over your hips. Javier leaned in and kissed you and you melted from the intensity of it. 

Your fingers curled around the back of his neck, nipping lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled back. “We can’t do this here, Javi.” You breathed, brushing your nose against his. 

“They’re teaching the girls badminton,” Javier whispered, kissing you again. “They’re busy.” He ran his hand along your side. “You’ve been driving me crazy all day, baby.”

“Javier.” You warned softly, even as you dragged your fingers through his hair. “What has gotten into you?”

“That dress is really doing it for me.” Javier told you, sighing heavily as he took a step backwards heeding your warning.

“I wore it all of last summer.” You grinned at him, cocking your head to the side. “What changed?”

He pointed looked downwards at your stomach and you couldn’t help but laugh. “What?”

“You’re such a man.” Your hands went to your hips as you shook your head at him. “You wouldn’t be this horny if I had on one of those hideous maternity dresses.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You could be dressed in one of those potato sacks and I’d still want you, baby. You look… gorgeous.”

You smiled warmly at him, taking a step towards him. You brushed your fingers over the column of his throat as you leaned up to kiss him again. “You’re such a jackass.” You muttered against his lips as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. 

Javier’s hands trailed from your waist to your hips as he pressed you up against the wall again. His tongue swept out over your lips as they parted, seeking entrance. His hand slid lower, rough fingers dragging over the smooth skin of your upper thigh, just beneath the hem of your dress. 

The sound of the glass door in the kitchen sliding closed jerked you out of the moment. You pushed at his chest gently, slipping out from between him and the wall. While neither Connie nor Steve would be surprised by the two of you making out — you really didn’t want to be that person. As tempting as it was.

You quietly retreated back into the bathroom, pulling the door shut as quietly as possible. You turned the sink on, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed with desire he’d started to stoke within you. 

You couldn’t blame him… you did look hot in the dress. 

“What are you doing Javi?” Steve questioned from the other side of the door. You bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

“Waiting for her.” Javier answered. “Morning sickness.” 

You coughed quietly, before shutting the water off. “It wasn’t the enchiladas!” You called out through the door. “Don’t worry Connie about it.” 

“I learned a long time ago not to comment on the cooking,” Steve retorted with a laugh. “I hope you feel better. I just came in to get some water.” 

You pulled the door open a crack, “Hey Javi, do you mind coming in here?” 

“Sure thing, baby.” Javier stepped inside and smirked once the door closed behind him. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” You warned him, even as your eyes swept over the length of him. It wasn’t fair how easily he could get you wound up. “We’re not doing this here.” Your hands went to your hips, staring him down. “But you are going to take me home. Sooner, rather than later.” 

Javier reached out and traced his fingertips over your cheekbone as he leaned in to kiss you. “You’ve given us the perfect excuse to leave early.” 

You grinned up at him. “I think fast on my feet.” 

“One of the many reasons I love you.” Javier pulled you close and kissed you softly.

“God, you’re such a fucking sap.” You let your arms drape over his shoulders, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re lucky I like this sappy shit most of the time.” You brushed your nose against his, “Take me home, Javi.” 

“All I can think about is ripping this dress off of you.” 

 ———

“Is it just the dress that flipped your switch?” You questioned as Javier pulled into the parking spot behind the condo building. 

Javier’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip as he tilted his head to look at you out of the corner of his eyes. “It’s just… you. The dress is just the icing on the cake.”

Your cheeks burned hotly as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Well we don’t have to pick Josie up until eleven tomorrow so…” You looked over the roof of the car at Javier. “I’m tempted to tell you to do your worst.”

“I already planned to.”

“You did attempt to fuck me at the Murphy’s… why am I surprised?” You rolled your eyes, resting your hand on your stomach as you walked around the car to join Javier. 

“We had the bathroom to ourselves.”

You shot him a look, “What is it with us and bathrooms?”

He shrugged a shoulder, slipping his hand into yours. “I dunno, baby. But all I’m thinking about right now is getting you into bed.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the specific tone he took. You had once jokingly called it a ‘panty dropper voice’ and… you weren’t mistaken. 

It was a sheer miracle that you both managed to get into the condo and back to the bedroom with most of your clothing still on. 

Javier was good at making you feel worshipped. He had been the same way when you were pregnant with Josie — the reverent ways that he would stroke your belly, the way he’d kiss you like you were everything. 

He always seemed to know exactly when you weren’t feeling particularly confident about your body. For the man he used to be, he was remarkably skilled at being tender. 

“This is what set you off, isn’t it?” You questioned as you laid back on the bed and stroked a hand over your still-covered stomach. “What? Does it appeal to your caveman sensibilities?” 

Javier climbed onto the bed, carefully situating himself above you so he wasn’t putting pressure on your stomach. “That’s only part of it.” He smirked, sliding his hand over the soft cotton that rested against your stomach. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

You bit down on your bottom lip as you looked up at him. You reached up and curled your hand around the back of his neck. “You make me feel gorgeous.”

Javier leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, before he trailed a line of kisses down your throat, his tongue sweeping out over your skin. 

He moved lower, kissing along your collarbone before he sat back and started to peel your dress up your hips. “You’ve got to wear this again, baby.”

“Trust me. I will.” You laughed softly as you sat up and pulled it off over your head. 

Javier climbed off the bed, fumbling with his belt buckle, before he worked his jeans off, followed by his shirt. 

He rejoined you on the bed, laying down beside you. “C’mere.” Javier rasped out, his fingers curling around your thigh as he pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his nose brushing against you as his hand slipped between your thighs. “Relax, baby.”

You leaned against him, half fitted into his side as you let your legs fall open for him. He had his other arm curled around you, his palm resting against the curve of your stomach. 

You drew in a shaky breath as he brushed his fingers over you through your underwear. He groaned as he discovered just how slick you were. The heated looks he’d been giving you all day had you aching for him. 

“Is that all for me?” Javier questioned and you turned your head to kiss him, rather than answer. He drew a tight circle around that little bundle of nerves, making you moan against his mouth. 

Your hand trailed down his bare chest, nails gently scraping before you followed the path of hair that led beneath his boxers. You pulled back from the kiss, eyes on his face as you ghosted your hand over the outline of his cock, “Is that for me?” You mimicked his tone. 

Javier smirked at you, “What do you think?”

Your lashes fluttered as he slid his fingers under your underwear, working them through your sensitive folds. “I think you better not tease me.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and tore them down your hips. You wiggled to get them off, kicking the fabric down the bed. “I hate to disappoint you, baby. But I plan to take my time with you.”

Your lips parted with a breathy moan as he gave your cunt a swift swat. “Bastard.” You hissed out. 

“And you love it.” Javier retorted, pressing two fingers into you and hooking them just right. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, baby?” 

Your heart skipped a beat. You should’ve never told him how much you enjoyed it. “Javi, please.”

“Please what?”

You swallowed thickly and tilted your head to look at him. “Don’t stop.”

He drew his hand away from your stomach, fingers playing with your hair. “I won’t.” Javier promised you, his fingers slowly moving in and out of you. He pressed his lips against your temple as his thumb circled your clit. 

Your hips rocked upwards, your heels digging into the mattress as you reacted to his touch. “Fuck.. fuck.” He hissed out through clenched teeth. You reached down and rested your hand against his cock through his boxers, stroking him slowly. “I’m so close Javi,” You told him, tilting your head lazily to look up at him through your lashes. “Don’t stop.” 

And the bastard stopped abruptly. 

You keened, hips rocking upwards — chasing after his touch. “Javier.” You snapped, fingers tightening on around his cock. “I told you not to tease me.” 

Javier dragged your hand away from his cock, fingers curling around your wrist as he met your gaze with a wry smirk. “I have plans, baby. Don’t worry.” He released his hold on your wrist, reaching up the bed to grab a pillow. He lifted you up and placed the pillow beneath your head, dipping down to kiss you.

You relaxed back against the pillow and watched Javi as he started moving downwards. Your fingers played through his hair as he peppered your skin with kisses, a soft moan rising up in your throat as he ran his hands along your waist in his downwards pursuit. He settled between your thighs. 

“Goddamn,” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look like this?” He questioned, running his hands along your inner thighs. “You’re a mess.” 

You lifted your hips up off the bed, rolling them towards him. “I wonder why.” You shot back, glaring down at him, but it was hard to keep a straight face when he leaned forward and swept his tongue over you.

This time, Javier didn’t tease.

 ———

 “It’s surreal to think that this time next month we might be in our new bedroom.” You mused as you intertwined your fingers with Javier’s, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

“I know.” He chuckled, squeezing your shoulder, before he ran his hand down your arm and rested it against your stomach. “I’m the fucking luckiest man in the world.”

You laughed, “I’ve heard that a time or two.”

“Because it’s true.” He kissed your shoulder. “I did a lot of shit in Colombia that I’m not proud of, baby. And I feel like I shouldn’t get all this good shit because of it.”

“Didn’t we all do things we regret?” You questioned, tilting your head to look at him as you squeezed his hand. “But if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have Josie or Sofía.” 

“I know.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. 

“You’re allowed to be happy, Javi.” You brushed your fingers over the column of his throat. 

Javier pulled you in close. “I am happy, baby.” He pressed his lips to your temple. “I’m so fucking happy. And sometimes it doesn’t feel real. How good I’ve got it with you.”

“It is.” You promised him, “And I’ll keep telling you how much you deserve all of this if you go make me a grilled cheese and bring me a bowl of ice cream.”

Javier gave your hip a squeeze, “Anything you want, baby.”

[jinniesxlamp]

The Tables Have Turned - Chapter 9

LIST OF CHAPTERS –> Masterlist

Jimin’s POV

I watched carefully as Jin-hyung pushed aside his bowl, barely touching a quarter of it as he left to go practice more. Hoseok-hyung shook his head in dismay, taking a look at the almost untouched lunchbox.

“It’s been a week, hyung” said Jungkook, turning to Namjoon with a troubled look on his face.

We stayed quiet knowing the reason why he hasn’t been eating all week. Yoongi and Hoseok had shared to us what happened in the hospital. Jin-hyung himself surprisingly told us too about the things that happened once he got home with Y/N. Although she didn’t leave him physically, the way he described their conversation and the noticeable sadness in his eyes made it clear--he lost her.

Everyone was starting to worry with the amount of pressure he was putting on himself. He barely made it out the studio these days, practicing non-stop if not over exhausting himself at the gym. What made it worse was that he barely touched his meals. The managers tried buying all his favorites, even going as far as asking his mom to make him home cooked meals which he loved. But it was all the same. This had to stop.

“We need to do something about this, Namjoon. Look at him.” Hoseok-hyung continued to shake his head, folding his arms as he stood beside Namjoon-hyung.

“Hoseok is right. His skin has become dry from dehydration and his eyebags are only getting darker by the days. I’m surprised he hasn’t lost weight from the amount of exercise he’s been doing” Yoongi continued.

All six of us started to brainstorm on ways to make him eat at least. 

“I think I have an idea...” we turned to Taehyung, hoping he had found a proper solution to the problem.

Y/N’s POV

I entered the clinic as I got back from my lunch break which I spent with Mark. For the first time in such a long time--I learned how to smile genuinely again. Somehow, ever since he told me how he felt, I started to see things more clearly. Plus, the words G-Dragon left me with kept repeating inside my head. GD was right about passion and purpose. The answer to my questions had been there all along, it was I who refused to see it. That same night, I taught myself to understand the reality of what Jin and I were and in that same night I finally gathered enough courage to embrace the truth and simply let go.

We couldn’t divorce each other even if we wanted to, not unless it was absolutely the last resort. I still had to protect him, so did he. 

I shook my head not wanting to remember anymore of the sad encounters I had lately. Not long after, my phone rang.

“Yeoboseyo?”

“Noooonaaaa” I pulled my phone away from my ear at the sound of Taehyung’s shrieking voice.

“Taetae?” It’s been awhile since I’ve seen the boys and vice versa. Hearing him speak only reminded me of how much I missed him them.

“Noona, we were just wondering if you had time tomorrow?” My eyes blinked, not finding anything suspicious with his question--though I could have sworn I heard him mutter ‘ssshh, be quiet’ in the background.

“It’s my day off tomorrow, actually”

Taehyung’s POV

The six of us gathered around, making sure everything runs smoothly with the plan.

“Be quiet you fools, I can hear you from here!” Even our choreographer, Sung Deuk-hyung gestured to smack us in the head as he mouthed those words, afraid that Jin-hyung might have heard us.

We managed to orient each and everyone of the staff about today. Everyone was careful not to say anything to Jin--not really sure if this was a good idea or a bad one. Regardless of which, it was worth a try if it meant pulling Jin-hyung together. 

Manager Hobeom was sweating profusely, making all of us nervous while he was trying to ‘explain the tour schedule to Jin’ just to distract him for awhile. Luckily, he didn’t notice.

Yesterday, we figured out an indefinite way to resolve Jin-hyung’s troublesome behaviors--starting with the biggest one. His lack of appetite. No one thought that was even possible for Jin-hyung. It still remains a mystery how he didn’t even touch his mom’s delicious cooking the other day.

The plan was intimidating in the beginning for several reasons. One, we weren’t sure if you had anytime to get involved at all. Two, we weren’t exactly sure if this was going to alleviate the problem or make it worse.

When you told us you had the day off tomorrow, it gave all six of us so much relief and motivation to push through with the plan. We asked you to come over and prepare lunch for us today, making all kinds of excuses which were half true and the other half made up.

“Noona I want spicy beef stew”

“I want kimchi friedrice”

“Egg rolls”

“Japchae or Jjajangmyeon!!!”

An entire list of what we wanted you to bring went on and on since you kept saying ‘what else,’ not declining any of our orders and just plainly giggling.

I hope this works. 

Jin’s POV

I felt so lifeless, as in without feelings while I continued to practice the choreography with Hobi.

“Good. That’s it hyung!” A weak smile was the only response I could give to one of the compliments I usually loved to hear. Every thing else seemed meaningless to me these days. I also started ignoring Irene’s texts, not having the slightest interest to see her at all.

“Good job, hyung!” said Jhope, giving me two pats on the shoulder while we both tried to catch our breaths.

“Let’s go take an hour break for lunch” he said, dragging me back to the meeting room completely ignoring my constant refusal.

I gave up trying to free myself from him until we stopped in front of the right door.

He slowly pushed the door open as I wiped the beads of sweat dripping on my temples, entering without looking.

Then

A whirlwind of emotions came fast. My heart started to pound vigorously at the sight right in front of me. I felt the world slow down while I watched her beautiful lips move gently as she laughed, the way her silky hair bounced with every movement. She was so beautiful in her yellow sundress. How her soft, milky skin that revealed by her chest hypnotized me in such a way I couldn’t describe. And when her eyes captured mine, I suddenly remembered how to feel.

A weak smile formed on her precious face.

The air of awkwardness wasn’t something unnoticeable. Everyone started putting food on their plates while I sat stiff on my chair, something she noticed rather quickly.

I saw her stand up from the seat beside me, taking another plate and putting a little bit of everything on it before giving it to me.

She cleared her throat before speaking.

“So errrr--how has everyone been?” She asked.

“Good, everything has been great! Ha ha ha” answered Taehyung with a nervous laugh. 

“Jin-hyung has been doing great, noona! He learned the new choreography in less that three hours”

“Oh. That’s nice to hear” she replied to Hoseok, forcing an unnatural smile.

“It’s even better now that he’s eating”

Silence stretched across the room at Jimin’s comment with Y/N giving him a confused look. The sound of Namjoon kicking him from under the table wasn’t helping at all.

“I-I mean, not that he hasn’t been eating or anything” everyone watched him shove his food in his mouth, avoiding eye contact with everyone especially Y/N who was now observing me finish the last piece of meat on my plate.

For the rest of the time, everyone had become more careful with the things they were saying, making jokes and gossip instead of engaging in serious conversations.

“Noona, we should have barbecue at your house tonight. We haven’t been there in a long time” Taehyung pouted like a whining child.

“A-ah. About that....well I-I’m seeing a friend for dinner” I couldn’t help but notice the uncomfortable smile on her face at the mention of the word friend. I knew she meant him.

“Ehem..” Yoongi took the liberty of erasing off the unpleasant silence which transpired after

“Hurry up and finish your food, Taehyung-a” he said with authority.

Once everyone had finished their meals, they started to disappear one by one leaving me and Y/N alone in the room. We both knew what they were trying to do although we pretended to ignore it.

“Thank you for bringing us lunch” I said almost tongue-tied.

“You’re welcome” the way she smiled serenely and the stain of care in her voice gave me hope--that maybe she would turn back and see how miserable I am without her.

She was quick to keep everything, cutting our conversation short as she started walking out the room with me following her from behind. Bidding farewell to everyone, she bowed before making her way to the elevator. I offered to send her off which she insisted was unnecessary. 

Even after her shadow disappeared from the hallway, I continued to watch hoping she would come back so I can look into those eyes again.

“She still cares about you” my moment in deep trance was interrupted by Yoongi who was staring into the same direction. I wanted to believe him, but he could still be wrong.

“That’s enough reason for you to try harder. Get her back, hyung” 

“You make it sound so easy” I grunted, rolling my eyes in mild despair.

“Of course it’s easy--

He paused facing his back, ready to walk towards the studio room.

--She was yours to begin with. And she still is. You just need to show what she truly means to you

--And oh, stop being an in-denial, arrogant fuck.”

Mark’s POV

I gripped on my glass, not having taken a single sip off the alcohol I ordered while I waited. Drinking in a high-end bar with barely any lighting in the middle of the day was something I didn’t really enjoy. Usually, Y/N and I would have lunch in a nice restaurant along the streets of Seoul but today she had some people to meet. 

Earlier this day, I received a phone call, one which I didn’t expect and didn’t like to say the least. I sighed wondering why I came in the first place, fairly convinced I was wasting my time. My eyes studied the place, finding very familiar faces in the form of politicians and famous actors meeting people in secret. This must be one of those places. As I continued to observe, a woman sat down beside me, giving her order to the bartender. She waited for her drink and took a sip as I watched her with judgement.

“Let’s go straight to the point” she said, making me raise an eyebrow.

“Help me and I’ll help you” the conceit in her voice surprised me. She is something alright.

“I don’t think there’s anything I would want your help with” I answered back with the same amount of pride. 

A sarcastic smirk appeared on her pale face as she took another sip from her glass.

“Ask yourself then, why are you here if you’re not interested in what I have to say?”

I stayed quiet having no definite answer to her question.

“I need Y/N out of Jin’s life and you need him out of hers”

Her statement was something that surprised me, but I can’t say it’s something I didn’t expect.

“This is ridiculous” I stood up from my chair, ready to leave but she spoke again.

“He hasn’t been answering my calls and messages and every time we’re together he’s always thinking about something, or maybe someone else”

Hearing her just made me think of what a crazy woman she was.

“That’s your problem. Not mine” I said, attempting to move another step

“You do know that their marriage was out of an agreement right?”

Out of all the surprising things Irene had said, this was something that actually caught my attention.

“Mwo?” 

Did I hear that right?

“She was asked to marry Jin to overlap mine and Jin’s dating scandal. Why do you think he’s been seeing me this whole time even when he’s married to her?”

A second ago I wanted to leave hearing her sick intentions. But now I only wanted to hear what else she had to say about Jin, about Y/N--about them.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I think he’s actually affected with Y/N seeing you. They can keep their marriage. I don’t care about that. But I want Jin for myself and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way about Y/N.”

Something in me wanted to give in, wanting her to tell me things I didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry but this is ridiculous” I turned my back towards her, ready to take my leave this time.

“If he decides to get Y/N back, he’s only going to hurt her. I know Jin, he’s just not comfortable seeing Y/N give her attention to another man but that doesn’t mean he cares about her. That’s just Jin--unreasonably jealous, possessive of the things he never thought he would lose.”

I gave her enough time to finish her speech, after which I continued my way towards the door.

“When you do change your mind--you have my number” the way she said it sounded so certain, as if she knew I was going to consider her offer soon enough.

The rest of the day was spent trying to shrug off thoughts of Irene from the bar earlier. I couldn’t help but be bothered with all the senseless things she said.

Their marriage was just an agreement.

I sat inside my car, watching as other vehicles passed by while waiting for you to come out of the coffee shop you were staying at the whole afternoon. My thoughts were so lost into a half-conscious state that I barely noticed you get inside the car.

“Hello” your sweet voice took all the frustrating thoughts that lingered inside my head. The ever so gentle smile on your face sent flutters around my stomach.

“Is everything okay? You asked in concern.

The blush on your cheeks had become more obvious the longer I stared at you.

“Is there something on my face?” suddenly, you cupped your cheeks, blushing even more. I couldn’t help but giggle biting my lip. You were so cute.

“You’re just really beautiful.” I said, giving you one last look before driving out the parking lot.

We had dinner at a spaghetti place where we spent talking about our first experiences here in Korea, how learning the language was a tough challenge and all that. You started sharing about your family, how you became to be a nurse and learning it was because you ‘almost’ grew up in the hospital with your mother being a doctor and having her bring you to work all the time.

The longer we talked, the more I pictured you in all my days. Holding my hand, walking through parks and museums which you loved more than anything. I was finally conviced--I want to keep you.

Later as the night grew, we decided to go to a nearby park for some fresh air before we head back home. Somewhere along the road, you found an ice cream place by the corner. You grabbed my hand in excitement, asking me to sit on one of the benches as you got one for each of us. I was going to get it but you insisted saying it was only fair since I paid for dinner.

In about five minutes you came back with two chocolate ice creams on each hand.

“Thank you” I smiled, taking the one on your left hand.

“So....is it safe to assume your favorite ice cream flavor is chocolate?” I asked in almost a teasing way.

“Hm? What are you talking about? It’s our favorite.”

My body froze at your statement which I found to be odd--my favorite was strawberry.

Upon realizing what you had just said, the way your eyes widened so suddenly and how your tongue released itself from the ice cream gave you off.

You were thinking of someone else.