#Atlantic City restaurants

[phillygrub]

The Borgata Hotel Casino & Spa: A 20-Year Legacy in Atlantic City

The Borgata Hotel Casino & Spa: A 20-Year Legacy in Atlantic City - here's to at least 20 more @BorgataAC! Definitey @VisitAC soon! #foodtravel #foodtourism #JerseyShore

The Borgata Hotel Casino & Spa in Atlantic City is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year. Since its opening in July 2003, it has become the top-grossing casino in Atlantic City, attracting visitors from all over the world. Operated by MGM Resorts International, the casino hotel features 2,798 rooms and is the largest hotel in New Jersey. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Philly…

[colorisbyshe]

i literally cannot have a normal conversation with my mother.

i was complaining about having to come up with a costume for my hip hop class which recommended a red accessory and she said she had a red bandana

"no i don't want to do that, for a variety of reasons"

"well, it can be a gay thing."

"... mother, that was a gay SEX thing, i'm not wearing a bandana like that"

"gay sex thing?"

"yeah, the different colors mean... things i'm not talking to you about, figure it out on your own"

"is that why my gay roommate kept stealing all of my bandanas"

"i guess so??"

"well he's dead now. a lot of my friends died of AIDS"

"oh"

"yeah"

"..."

"gay sex though, really?"

"i'm not doing this"

[witekspicsoldpostcards]

Atlantic City / New Jersey - USA

[jaicourtneyfan]

Atlantic City Restaurant Week Preview 2017

[evelinerossi]

Dock's Oyster House USA-Atlantic City

[gardenstateofmind]

i actually love the cigarette smell of casinos bc it floods me with nostalgia

[evan-collins90]

Hotel lobbies, restaurants, & discos from the book, 'International Hotel and Resort Design' by PBC Intl. (1988)

1-2. Durham Hilton designed by One Design Center

3. Cincinnatian Hotel - designed by Edwards Design Group

4. Kinshasa Intl. - designed by Wilson Gregory Aeberhard

5. Hyatt on Collins - designed by Hirsch/Bedner Associates

6. Hyatt Regency Tech Center - designed by Wilson & Associates

7. Grand Bay Hotel - designed by Jeffrey Howard Associates, Diana S. Sepler Interiors, Regine's Interiors

8. International Crossroads Sheraton - designed by Interior Design Force, Inc.

9. Radisson Plaza VII - designed by CSA, Inc.

10. Castle Hotel & Casino, Atlantic City - designed by Kovacs and Associates

[hxneyfarm]

no holes in his plan

written for @steddiemicrofic | prompt: hole | rating: g | wc: 404 | cws: none

There can be no holes in Steve’s plan. He has to get this exactly right.

It’s been planned down to the most infinitesimal detail, from the flight to the hotel to the restaurant, the drinks and meals and desserts.

There can be no holes in his plan or his blazer pocket or the script he has written for himself.

The flight goes off without a hitch—they fly business class across the Atlantic Ocean and touch down in Barcelona with bellies full of white wine and surprisingly tasty airplane food, and then they step off the plane together to a gorgeous sunny morning that feels like an Indiana spring. 

Steve follows Eddie through the airport to claim their bags, watching the way the shoulders of his jacket pull taut with his movements. 

He checks again for holes in the pockets of his own jacket and finds nothing there but the little velvet box he’s been hoarding for months.

Eddie is alive, buzzing with excitement and awe in the back seat of the cab from the airport to the hotel, and Steve watches in wonder as Eddie’s dimples deepen in his cheeks with his broad smile. 

Steve’s plan can’t have a single fucking hole in it. This proposal has to be perfect.

The suite at the hotel is perfect, with massive floor to ceiling windows that let in the natural light and offer a stunning spacious view of the sprawling and active city below. Steve steps out onto the balcony where his plans are going to be put into action tonight and makes note of the slats in the floor beneath his feet.

He’ll have to keep a tight hold on the ring, so it doesn’t fall through the holes from his shaking hands.

Dinner is quiet and intimate, just the way Steve wanted it to be; they drink sangria by moonlight and stuff themselves with so much paella Steve thinks he might actually pop. 

Eddie bursts into laughter later when Steve presents him with the ring box, his features bathed in the colorful lights of the city below, and for a moment Steve wants to melt into the grated holes of the balcony floor under his feet, thinking he’s somehow fucked this all up.

But then Eddie reaches into the pocket of his own jacket, and there’s a ring in his hand, and they laugh together.

There was a hole in his plan after all.

[okaerina]

𖥻 THINGS — enhypen ◌ ִ ۫ ּ

syn ; things enha reminds me of !

heeseung !

dangly earrings, pendent chains, skinny ripped jeans, rock guitar, clubbing, late studio night, concerts, rainy empty street, love songs, specs, ice cream, deers, rainforest, going over the speed limit, long drive, polaroids, balcony, tattoos, collage campus, basketball, getting into fist fights, breaking rules, warm breeze, kisses, sharing earphones, untied shoelaces, sleeveless tops, cross jewelries, chase atlantic songs

jay !

red wine, ball dance, guitar, empty kitchen, champagne bubbles, tuxedo suits, runaway, black cat, fashion magazines, gold jewelries, camping, eucalyptus, biking, biker jackets, street racing, late night walks, city lights, porsche, cologne, the weeknd songs, loose tie, fancy restaurant, chanel bags, iced americano, home, long hugs, words of affirmation, eye contact, autumn, posh music, v necks, opera, musical recital, marriage, ancient churches

jake !

pancakes, golden retrievers, empty parks, cardigans, picnic, wolf pups, landscapes, abstract art, lip piercings, makeout sessions, mornings, cream, sheets, swimming, sand castles, tree houses, venus, varsity player, rings, clashing waves, sun shinning through curtains, backyard, champagne, sparkly eyes, netflix and chill, forehead kisses, caramel fudge, winter, jb songs, garden, lilies, lipstick stains

sunghoon !

sculptures, greek mythology, snow, ice skating, pointe shoes, swan lake, ice rinks, rhinestones, vampires, sharp canines, royalty, huskies, novels, cruise, 90s songs, ear muffs, moon phase, poetry, dandelions, maple leaves, vanilla shake, pearls, penguins, blush, lucid dreams, confessions, lullaby, archangels, romance movies, boyfriend coats, monsoon, hair blowing because of the wind, moles, tears, old love, unrequited love, ribbons, weddings

sunoo !

sun, tulip field, solar system, marshmallows, tteobokki, street food, shopping, karaoke, smiles, cute stationeries, stickers, secret diary, cheek kisses, mufflers, red foxes, bratz doll, playdate, selfies, carnations, easter, boba tea, bestfriends to lovers, cherry blossoms, lip gloss, skincare, disney shows, late night face timing, gossiping, watching kdramas, sanrio stuffs, blowing bubbles, photo booths, texts, horizon

jungwon !

kittens, valleys, teenage dream, gold fish, aquariums, subways, cds, headphones, empty bus rides, babybreaths, holding hands, first love, taylor swift songs, messy hair, vacation, countryside, group study, constellations, piggyback ride, dimples, converse, empty classroom, sheep cubs, indoor plants, mini cactus, namsan tower, han river, late fall, vintage hand written letters , young love, romcom, kitties

ni-ki !

graffiti, sunsets, baggy pants, late night dance jam, empty beach, bicycling, sea shore, ear piercings, watermelon, summer, slow dancing, grass field, bungeoppangs, duck chicks, disneyland, ps5, arcade, puma cubs, eskimo kisses, bracelets, youth, climbing fences, skipping school, skateboarding, mangas, school festivals, footsies, cute band aids, oversized attires, j-rock, night sky, laughters, slice of life, teenage, playfulness, photo booths, anime, shoujo manga

© aenfilmz / 02072023

taglist ; @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck @ichiibunztwt @enhawhoreist

[travelingare]

📍 Basque Autonomous Community‎‎,Spain!!

The Basque Country of Spain is a place like no other, with a blend of dramatic landscapes, rich history, and unique culture.

Here’s why it should be a must-visit:

🌊Stunning Coastline: The rugged Atlantic coast, dotted with fishing villages like Getaria and cities like San Sebastián, offers pristine beaches and scenic views. The famous surfing waves of Mundaka and the tranquil beauty of the Flysch cliffs make the coastline unforgettable.

🍽Gastronomic Heaven: The Basque Country is home to more Michelin- starred restaurants per capita than almost anywhere else in the world. From pintxos (Basque tapas) in the vibrant old town of San Sebastián to traditional dishes in remote mountain villages, the culinary scene is second to none.

🇪🇸Unique Culture and Language: Basque culture is distinct from the rest of Spain. The ancient Basque language (Euskara) is still spoken, and the region’s festivals, music, and dance offer a window into a culture with roots stretching back thousands of years.

🌅Natural Beauty: From the green rolling hills of the countryside to the towering Pyrenees mountains, the Basque Country offers some of the most breathtaking natural landscapes in Europe. Hike through the Urdaibai Biosphere Reserve, or explore the stunning Picos de Europa.

🖼Art and Architecture: The Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, a masterpiece of contemporary architecture, draws art lovers from all over the world. Bilbao itself is a testament to modern urban revitalization, blending old-world charm with avant-garde design.

🏛Rich History and Traditions: The Basque people have preserved their traditions and autonomy throughout centuries of foreign rule. Visiting towns like Guernica, which is steeped in historical significance, helps you understand the resilience of the Basque identity.

The Basque Country isn’t just a destination-it’s an experience, full of contrasts, where nature, food, and culture collide in ways that will stay with you long after you’ve left.

Have you been to the Basque Country before?

If not is it now on your list?

@vineyardsandvoyages

#visiteuskadi #sansebastian #spain #travel #travelingare #dronephotography

[3-2-whump]

It Started with a Gray Hair

<prev next>

After a couple months' worth of balancing two jobs, hardly getting any sleep, and running himself ragged, Khaled finally snaps.

Thanks @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for the feedback on this chapter, I've applied your advice and hope you like what I did with it!

TW/CW: emotional angst, emotional whump, defiant whumpee (?) (whumpee loses his last fuck to give), slave whump, captivity whump, alcohol, very briefly mentioned food whump (like it's barely there but I'll tag it anyways), intimate whumper, dub con, hate sex

Khaled noticed it when he was towel-drying his hair in front of the mirror after a shower. He accepted it wasn’t a trick of the light as he blew his hair dry in front of the mirror, and he finally confirmed it was exactly as he feared when he combed through his wild floof. Standing starkly contrasted against the black night of his hair was a single silvery strand, long and twisted and brittle amongst strong sable waves.

There was a sharp rap on the door, accompanied by his master’s complaints. Khaled ignored it, still horrified by the discovery of his first gray hair. It was less about vanity for him more than it was a visible sign of the passage of time, of how much time he’d spent living under this man’s thumb. His hands unscrewed the pomade jar on autopilot. He went through the motions of dipping fingertips into the sticky substance and running them through his hair, thoughts racing all the while. He managed to hide the silvery offender –the only one, as far as he knew, though where there was one, there were probably more, and what was that under his eyes? Lines?

“Sometime today, Khaled!” Thomas yelled through the bathroom door.

“Almost done, Master!” he shouted back as he rinsed the hair product off his hands. He hastily dried them and opened the door, subconsciously straightening out his shirt collar as he righted his posture.

“Everything alright?” It was funny, how he almost sounded concerned.

“Fine,” Khaled lied. As if he was going to complain to a forty-something year old man about his first gray hair.

“Well let’s go! We’re going to be late for the reservation I made!”

The restaurant they drove to overlooked a harbor boasting a panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean, plus or minus a few barges, with the city skyline largely forgotten behind the vast blue expanse. Regretfully, the outdoor seating was closed for the season, with it already being late fall, so the mob boss and his slave got a table indoors, right next to the wide windows above the balcony.

Whatever hope Khaled had of forgetting about the passage of time was quickly dashed by the first course. “We’ll take the antipasti plate, cured meats on the side, and your 2015 Merlot, two glasses, leave the bottle.”

Khaled cleared his throat, getting Thomas and the waitress’ attention. “Just one glass, please,” he corrected. “I’ll take a water.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Thomas asked. Khaled shook his head. “Best give him a glass anyway,” he whispered not too subtly. The waitress dutifully wrote down their order before leaving them to their complimentary bread basket.

“Ah, 2015,” the boss reminisced with a sigh. “The year my grandfather passed and I became the head of the Costa Family, what a tumultuous year!”

Yeah, 2015, the year I was kidnapped and sold halfway across the world to you, Khaled remembered. He tried to wash away the bitter memory with the water the waitress had given him, but the icy cold drink only numbed the sensation for a moment. He halfheartedly smeared some butter onto a piece of bread and picked at the marinated olives on their shared plate as his master kept reminiscing about how much time they had spent together.

“That was also the year I got you, wasn’t it?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you remember how small you were back then?” Thomas popped a salted almond into his mouth, chewing it only for a second before answering for him. “You were 5’1” and barely 90 lbs, a scrawny little thing. Then, with enough food and shelter and a stable environment-”

Khaled nearly choked on an ice cube.

“-you hit your growth spurt and made up for lost time!” The older man laughed, taking a hearty sip of his wine. “As soon as I bought you clothes that fit, you would need them replaced! You shot up like a weed over those first two years, and now look at you!”

Look at me now, Khaled bitterly echoed. His gaze flitted to the deep ruby liquid in his master’s wine glass, and then to the opaque green bottle set in the middle of their table. If he was going to make it through the rest of this dinner, he might change his mind about the merlot after all.

The man across from him helped himself to a slice of prosciutto from the side plate. “You’re a handsome young man, now twenty-two years old, 5’8”, 138 lbs. You’re built like a whippet, svelte and sexy in all the right places,” he crooned, throwing in a wink. “It has been nothing but a pleasure spending all these years with you.”

The bread on his tongue felt as dry as ashes in Khaled’s mouth. “I think I will take some of that wine, thanks,” he murmured. He leaned over the table to reach for the wine, but Thomas beat him to it.

Their hands touched on the neck of the wine bottle, two sources of warmth meeting on cold slender glass. Khaled shot his master a questioning look, only to receive a cryptically soft gaze in response. “Allow me.” Thomas took the bottle and effortlessly filled the spare wine glass. “Here you are,” he said, passing it to Khaled with a fond smile. Their hands met once again, the older man’s touch lingering just a bit longer than necessary on the neck of the wine glass as he stared into Khaled’s eyes. There was something softening the look in those steely-gray eyes, and it wasn’t just the candlelight ambiance. This look was warm and cozy, almost comforting like a fresh cup of tea; nothing like the fiery and lustful glances that promised Khaled equal measures of pleasure and pain. At least Khaled was used to the latter type of looks. The way Thomas looked at him now was almost as if –but no, Khaled thought, he’s just playing it up because we’re out in public.

“Aren’t you going to eat any more of this?” Thomas asked, waving down toward the sliced cheeses and grapes and nuts. Khaled hated how concerned his master sounded, making it sound like he cared.

“I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was,” he replied. He threw back the glass of wine and let the liquid pour down his throat, just to give his mouth anything to do other than talk to the man across from him.

“Oh, come on, Khaled, you know the dietary rules don’t apply on your birthday! At least eat something to absorb all that wine you’re inhaling?”

Brushing uncomfortably past the reminder that today was his birthday –the seventh birthday he had spent in slavery to his master, owner, and abuser –Khaled polished off the rest of his wine, instantly tipping his glass forward in a nonverbal request for more. “Why should you care?” he asked.

“Because maybe I care about you.” Thomas refilled his wine glass. He did that thing with his voice again, using the tone that sounded as if he were genuinely concerned. He was looking at him in that same soft and worrisome way as before. Khaled decided that he hated it. It made sense that the man would be concerned about his $150k asset, but anything vaguely resembling more than that was just …wrong.

He made a show of turning his head all about the restaurant, clocking how few patrons there actually were on a Monday night. “You can drop the act you know,” he murmured. “There is no one within five tables around ours, so you can cut the crap and just be yourself, Master.” The title left his tongue like a bitter epithet.

“Cut the –Khaled, what are you talking about?”

Oh, so he’s going to play dumb? Fine! You want to fuck with me, I’m the King of Dumb –wait, hold on. Khaled tipped back his second glass of wine, not stopping until the whole vessel was drained. Whether it was the insincere gestures of concern, or the accumulation of remarks about how much time had been stolen from him, or whatever the hell these soft and warm looks were, Khaled had decided he’d had enough. “I mean, stop being so goddamn nice to me, stop acting like we’re good friends or boyfriends or whatever lie you told these people when you made our reservations, and please, please, please, stop acting like you care about me beyond what I can do for you in bed!”

A few patrons turned their heads toward their table, since Khaled had raised his voice a little at that last statement. The mob boss glanced around with a flicker of nervousness in those gray eyes. “Khaled, baby, calm down,” he soothed quietly, opting to go for damage control.

Wrong choice of words, fucker! Khaled scoffed loudly, emboldened by the alcohol in his system. “You bought me, at fifteen years old, like an object, and you brought me into your empty, soulless home for what exactly? To leave me chained up and alone to slowly lose my mind for the first year I was imprisoned with you?” He slammed his empty wineglass against the table with enough force to rattle the silverware. “Nobody even treats their dog that badly!” he shouted.

“Khaled, keep your voice down, you’re drawing attention-”

The hypocrisy nearly made Khaled laugh. How dare you care about drawing attention onto us now, of all times! “And then,” Khaled continued, retelling his story as he raised his voice on purpose, “you took me to work with you and kept me on an extremely short leash, while the rest of the mafia treated me like the plague! Do you have any idea what they would say about me when you weren’t there? All the names they called me that I didn’t understand? Well, you made me understand, didn’t you?” His master reached out to hold his hand, but Khaled smacked it away, rising from the table to put even further distance between them. “Four years ago, this very night, the night of my eighteenth birthday, you made me understand, didn’t you?!”

“Khaled, shut up!” Thomas raised himself from the table, his livid eyes narrowed threateningly as he stared the young man down.

“You treated me like a whore –no, worse than a whore! You broke and violated my body nearly every night for years on end! You dolled me up and passed me around to your boys like a party favor until I was thrown away like garbage-” Khaled furiously blinked back the stinging sensation in his eyes “-back into your arms when they’d had their fill!”

A small squeak in their periphery interrupted their intense staring match. “U-um, excuse me, have you gentlemen decided on your entrees yet?” the waitress timidly interrupted. Both men fell silent as they realized the weight of a dozen stares were on their table, with both patrons and staff tensely watching them as they fought.

Thomas composed himself first. “No, thanks, I think we’re done here,” he answered gruffly. He reached into his coat pocket and fished out a few $100 bills. “Sorry for the inconvenience,” he muttered as he pressed the cash into the woman’s hands and strode purposefully towards the exit. Khaled himself muttered a quiet “sorry” before he followed his master out the restaurant, where they both picked up their argument where they had left off as soon as they reached the parking lot.

“What was that?” the mob boss shouted. “Fuck, boy, what is wrong with you tonight?!”

“What’s wrong with me?! I wasn’t the one who went out and bought a teenager to turn into their personal bed warmer!” Khaled screamed. “I wasn’t the one who stripped him of his clothes and wrapped him in silk and pimped him out to strangers he barely knew! I wasn’t the one who tore down everything he loved about himself-” Khaled’s voice broke on a wet sob he couldn’t suppress, “–everything that made him unique, to wring all the hopes and dreams from his broken body, just to build up whatever I wanted from his remains!” He raised an accusatory finger at the man he called his master. “That was you, you did that, that was all you!”

A brief grimace of an unnamed emotion flickered across his master’s face, disappearing before it could even be named. “You’re making it out to be way worse than it was!” he defended himself. He shook his head as he grabbed Khaled’s elbow and started steering him toward the car. “See if I ever let you drink again, fuck,” he muttered.

“Get off me!” Khaled yanked his elbow away from Thomas’ grip. He bit his trembling lip and swiped away the tears in his eyes. Any and all pretense of wanting to appear strong was abandoned as Khaled angrily wept.

“I could have loved you, you know!” He wrapped his arms around himself as his posture crumpled, squeezing himself in a hug as if he were desperately trying to hold his shattered pieces together for a little longer, if only so long as it took him to finish his damning indictment. “You wouldn’t know this, but I don’t have a father, at least not anymore,” he shuddered through ragged breaths, “but for a little bit, I thought I had you. If you had just been a little kinder, a little more understanding, if you had never touched me like that at all, I could have loved you like a father, and I think I was about to! But you didn’t love me, and I know you never did!”

“Hey, that is just not true!” Khaled heard the crunch of gravel under expensive leather shoes. A shadow cast over him as the mob boss leaned over the young man.

“Why didn’t you love me?!” Khaled glared up at him through his mess of tears. “What was it about me that justified pouring out all your wrath and your lust against me?! Why was it so hard to love me?! Am I unlovable, is that it?! Why-”

A rough hand grabbed him by his hair and tugged him forward. Khaled’s rant was smashed against a regrettably familiar pair of warm lips as Thomas brought him in for a kiss. Khaled clawed at the front of the man’s chest, fighting with a fervor he had not had since the early days to try and put the distance back between them. He groaned in protest against those smothering lips as his master maneuvered both their bodies and flipped Khaled back-first onto the hood of a car. Thomas broke the kiss and quickly covered Khaled’s mouth with his hand before the young man could say anything else. “You want me to love you?” he growled. “What does it look like I’ve been doing?!” Khaled thrashed against the hand on his mouth and the body pressing him down inch by inch into the chrome hood of the car. “I have been nothing but sweet with you for months now, but if that’s not what love looks like to you, I could always go back to what I had done before!”

The statement that would’ve struck terror and fear into him before now just made Khaled even more angry. He had finally freed one of his arms from where it had been pinned and scratched at his owner’s face. Thomas recoiled and let go of Khaled’s mouth on instinct to catch Khaled’s wrist in a punishingly tight grip. It wasn’t long before he had both of Khaled’s wrists pinned in one hand in front of him.

Khaled glared at him as he struggled against his master’s hold. “Touch me like that again, and I will scream,” he promised.

His master scowled, but ultimately released him and stepped away, allowing Khaled to peel himself off the hood of the car. They were still in a restaurant parking lot, after all. “At least wait until we’re in the car, you fucking savage!” he muttered.

They had just made it to the back of the boss’ Bentley when Thomas tried to grab Khaled in one hand and open the backseat door with another. Khaled dodged, and as Thomas reached for him to pull him into the car, he pushed into the man’s body and sent him falling backwards. His back met the seat of the backseat with a satisfying thud. Khaled wasted no time in climbing on top of him and closing the car door behind him.

“Cut this shit out!” the older man yelled, trying to sit himself up from where he fell.

“No!” Khaled pushed him down by the sternum. His master, in turn grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head back to bare his neck. The sudden pull made Khaled gasp. The warm, moist pair of lips kissing at his Adam’s apple made him involuntarily groan. He blindly clawed at his master while his head was craned up to the car roof. The pair of lips against his throat murmured a breathy request against his skin. “Let’s do it, here, now.”

Once the hand in his hair let Khaled go to begin tearing off his shirt, Khaled snapped his head back to stare down at him. “I’ll ride,” he said. Thomas blinked up at him as his hands retreated from Khaled’s waistband. “I’ll ride,” he repeated, his tone assertive and acerbic. His fingers moved over the button and fly of his pants before his brain could keep up with what he had demanded. Thomas mirrored the motions as he undid his pants and quickly whipped out his hardening member. “You have taken so much from me, you can at least allow me this, Master.” He pushed his pants and underwear down to his ankles, taking them off entirely before climbing on top of the dumbstruck man again.

Khaled straddled his master’s hips, splitting himself in half on his master’s cock as he gripped the front passenger seat and the back seat to steady himself. A pair of roughly calloused hands maintained an iron grip on his hips, but Khaled had set the speed on his own, pushing himself up and down the rigid shaft at a brutally masochistic pace. The familiar stinging burning sensation accompanied every movement as he pushed himself to his limits, but Khaled didn’t care. This was the most control he’d ever had –more like the most control he’d been allowed to have with his owner, and as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside of him with every punishing thrust, the repugnant act finally began to feel good.

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He did both.

“Fuck me!” Khaled looked below, into the eyes of the man he was riding. The mob boss was a mess, with his short blonde hair mussed up, top three shirt buttons undone, and outer suit coat long forgotten. “I don’t know what I did to get you so worked up, but I should do it again if it gets you this eager!”

“Shut up!”

One of the hands let go of Khaled’s hips to slap him across the cheek. “That is no way to talk to your Master!”

Undeterred, Khaled kept riding. After every abuse that he’d endured, there was no way a mere backhand was going to stop him. He felt himself smiling, a dark and twisted little upturn gracing his lips. “Oh, I know you missed this, you sick son of a fuck!” he gloated. “I figured those girls in the whorehouses could only satisfy you for so long! I am your perfect plaything, doing exactly what you have trained me to do!” His pace was becoming erratically frenzied as he sought release from the ever-mounting pleasure. Thomas bucked his hips into Khaled’s, trying to keep up with him as he squeezed the young man’s hips impossibly tight. That’s right, I can’t cum yet, not until he cums at least, I’ve got to get him to cum first, Khaled reminded himself.

“So, so tight –you’re gonna rip my dick off, Khaled!”

“What are you complaining for?! You wanted this!” he screamed. He was close, so close, he just had to hold out a little more-

A strangled mix between a roar and a moan erupted underneath him as a familiar pulse of hot seed injected deep within. Khaled didn’t take much longer to cum after that, spilling himself over imported cotton as he rode through the high of his climax. His grip on the front and back seats slackened, knees and thighs trembling with the effort to keep himself seated on the man’s cock. When Thomas finally let go of his hips to gently guide him down onto his chest –face first into the puddle of his own spend –Khaled went down limply without a fight. He rested his head against his master’s chest, picking up the sound of the older man’s heartbeat and the smell of cologne and sweat and sex radiating off his broad body.

“Holy fuck, Khaled.” Thomas’ voice rumbled in his ribcage as his fingers idly played with Khaled’s hair. “That was kinda hot-”

“Nope,” Khaled cut off, “stop talking. Please.” Fortunately, this time, he listened.

The mob boss and his slave fell into a contemplative silence as they lay against each other. The silence only broke by the fingers in Khaled’s hair, stopping as they twirled a single lock of hair. “Oh my god, is that a gray hair?” the man asked incredulously.

Khaled laughed/cried again.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire

[meazalykov]

redirection II

esmee brugts x barcaplayer!R

last chapter: redirection I

next chapter: redirection III

walking into my apartment, i shut the door and place my black nike sports bag on the bench in the foyer. there was a light breeze in the kitchen because i left the balcony doors open when i left home this morning.

i didn't want to do anything right now since i had a busy morning. i had to wake up at 6am, eat breakfast, get to ciutat at 8am, complete paperwork and contracts, do medical tests, take pictures for my first day, and have my first training practice with the team.

the excitement in my body wouldn't go away though. barcelona is the best club in the world currently, i had high hopes for this season and just want to contribute to the team.

turning on my phone that was in my back pocket, the time read 1:23pm. well, in europe it's 13:23. however, it would take me a while to get used to that as an american.

i saw a few texts from a phone number i didn't recognize too.

hi y/n!

what time are you free later?

we should go to la selva. it's a restaurant in the city. i haven't been there before but ingrid recommended it :)

i blushed as i remembered the conversation with esmee earlier. i appreciated the idea of going out to eat with her, i want to build bonds with my new teammates the same way i had with my old teammates back in washington.

considering that i've met her today, i couldn't say that i had a crush on her (yet). that would be too fast. however, i thought about her on the drive back to my apartment. i'm excited to spend time with a new friend and teammate.

y/n: esmee!!!!

y/n: i'm free around 17:00/5pm. i have to do some things for my apartment and i'll be ready.

y/n: i just looked up the location to la selva restaurant. it's not too far from my apartment. it's a 6-minute walk from me :)

i added esmee's phone number into my phone as "esmee :)" before i clicked off of imessage to go on instagram. clicking on my notifications, i saw "esmeebrugts followed you 5d" meaning that she followed me five days ago.

going on her profile, i see that some of my friends back in america follow her and she follows a couple of them back. everyone kind of knows each other in this sport so i am not surprised.

i don't go on instagram when i am not posting, so i felt bad when i saw that she followed five days ago. i followed her back immediately.

s/n went back to america earlier with our mom and i miss her already. we walked on the barceloneta beach before dinner last night, celebrating my new life in spain. she took pictures of me and i feel happy enough to post them on instagram.

(pretend this is you in the pictures)

y/n.l/n

barcelona, catalunya, españa

liked by esmeebrugts, sscofff, and 41,375 others

loving barcelona already 🌞💙

comments

y/nhive THE PRETTIEST

ingrid_engen So cool 😍

malpugh obsessed with you 🥹

woso21 when she scores in her debut I will be there

leahwilliamsfan8967 ME TOO!

randomuser267 Golden girl '23 ❓

janafernandez3 🥰

trinity_rodman 🔥🔥🔥

-

when i told esmee that i had to do things for my apartment before the dinner, i wasn't lying. throughout the past week i've been decorating my apartment so it felt like home. i know it will take a while to get used to this place, since i am across the atlantic ocean in a new country away from my old home.

three hours had passed and i've finished completing everything for my apartment. i picked up my phone from the coffee table and the time read 4:12pm/16:12. i saw i've received 5 text messages from different people:

esmee :) 2hrs ago: la selva isn't far from me as well, see you at 17:00!

trinity r 2hrs ago: heyy girl! how's barcelona?

emily f 2hrs ago: sent 2 tiktok attachments you at camp 😭💀

unknown number: hi its ingrid!

the first person i texted back is ingrid, i gave her my number before she left training earlier with mapi. i changed her contact name to just "ingrid e".

y/n: hi ingrid!

i texted trinity back as well, saying that barcelona is great and asked her how she's doing back in washington. i reacted to esmee's message with a like and emily's with the "haha" reaction.

i had about 45 minutes until i had to meet esmee at la selva, so i quickly went into my bedroom and changed into a different outfit than what i had on this morning.

deciding to do my usual hairstyle (imagine whatever you want, reader <3), i placed on a bit of brow gel, concealer, mascara, blush, and lip balm as part of my makeup routine. i constantly checked the time on my phone, making sure that i am not late to meeting esmee. i promise this obsession over the time just isn't due to my interest in her; with friends i'll try not to disrespect their time by being late to an event.

after putting on my outfit (photo above^), I checked the time and it's finally 4:45/16:45. i grabbed my purse, put on my sandals, made sure to lock my apartment door, and followed my phone gps towards la selva.

stepping outside, the warm weather with the nice breeze made me smile. my white oversized button-up shirt flowed with the soft breeze. usually, my social anxiety would plague my thoughts about hanging out with someone new in my life. i used to feel shaky and hesitant about these situations. however, i promised myself that i would be more open with others once i came to spain.

i turned the corner away from my street, heading to walk straight for about a quarter of a mile. suddenly, i saw a group of girls. one girl had box braids with a nice orange sundress on. another girl was a redhead with freckles, wearing a pair of jean shorts with a green shirt. the third girl, who was closest to a restaurant door they were standing out of, was a brunette and wore a 22/23 barcelona kit with a pair of light-washed jeans. these girls were a few years younger than me, if i had to guess.

when the girl in the barcelona shirt saw me walk by her, she gasped before coming up behind me and tapping me on the shoulder. i didn't walk past her to ignore her, i figured that since i'm new to barcelona i wouldn't be recognizable yet.

"are you y/n l/n? you look so pretty in person. sorry i- um- wow i am such a fan of your talent." the shy girl spoke with a spanish accent. i smiled at her as her two friends stood behind her, looking at me with admiration too.

"thank you so much! i appreciate your kind words." i responded.

the girl pulled out her blue-cased iphone to give to her friend, "can i take a picture with you?" she asked. i responded yes kindly.

after taking pics with the three girls, i continued to walk to the restaurant. turning onto the street where la selva was, i heard my imessage notification go off in my back pocket.

i clicked on my lock button to see that i received a text message from esmee. the time is currently 4:57/16:57. the restaurant is in view from where i am walking so i wasn't late.

esmee: i am here! i got us a table already so i am inside.

y/n: i am right outside. heading in now :)

as i approached the restaurant, i stopped and took a deep breath as my nerves started to increase in unfamiliarity. my social anxiety won't ruin this potential friendship i want to have.

i smiled in awe when entering the steakhouse. the place has beautiful lighting, nice vinery, and was pretty spacious. there was nobody up front at the hostess station, so i continued to walk into the restaurant to find esmee.

as i turned the corner, i saw the dutch girl sitting. she had her familiar braids with her back facing towards me. she's looking down towards her lap so i know she is on her phone.

if i knew her well enough, i would've scared her from behind. a "boo!" could've been funny. oh well, next time i will.

"esmee!!!" i said, going to sit down in the seat across from hers. the chairs in the restaurant were hanging from the roof, the whole area was pretty.

"y/n hey!" esmee clicked off of her phone and placed it upward on the table. i placed my bag in the chair beside my left leg before i fully acknowledged esmee's appearance.

i cannot deny it. i found her attractive since seeing her at training this morning. she had this shy and sweet aura to her. don't get me started on her adorable smile…

she wore a black nike hoodie and had on a nice gold necklace. i can't see her pants from below the table, but i believe i saw black cargos when walking towards her from behind.

"i'm sorry i am a little late, a fan recognized me and asked me for a photograph." i giggled. i knew i didn't have to apologize because it was exactly 5:00/17:00 when i arrived, i just hoped that she didn't wait long.

"it's totally okay! i just sat down when i saw your message about you being outside." esmee responded. the dutch accent when she speaks english is pulling me in, emotionally, as i look at her with a smile.

be cool, y/n. i thought to myself.

"okay that's good. i didn't want to keep you waiting." i commented.

"you're fine, no worries… so i see a fan recognized you already." esmee said with her recognizable smile.

i laughed lightly and was going to respond until a waitress came up to our table.

"hi, i'm maria, i will be your server tonight. can i get you started with any drinks?" the brunette, who had french braids in her hair, smiled at us.

i looked at esmee, seeing if she wanted to answer what she wanted first. she nodded her head at me, offering for me to go first. we nearly laughed before i said to maria, "i'll just take a water." esmee wanted the same thing and maria smirked at us before walking away.

"yeah, a fan did recognize me. she had on a pedri shirt and stared at me walking by her before she stopped me for a picture. she had her friends with her and they were so kind." i said.

esmee nodded her head, "that's good. i'm glad they were kind to you."

"same, the last thing i need for the end of my first week in spain is a mean person coming at me." i shook my head at the possible thought.

"have you had any fan interactions here since tuesday?" i asked esmee. it's monday today so esmee arrived in barcelona before i did.

"i had a few actually. a few oranje fans saw me and asked for a picture. i went to mexico with the team for a friendly on thursday and was able to meet more fans there too." esmee commented. the barcelona team had a friendly in mexico against club america from what i saw on their instagram pages. my contract wasn't signed until a few days ago, when they came back to barcelona, so i wasn't able to go.

"you're so lucky! how was mexico?" i smiled.

esmee looked up, thinking about her few days for the club america friendly, before looking back at me with a smile.

"mexico was fun. we didn't walk around or do much. however, i saw an old teammate from psv that plays at club america so that was nice. uh… it was nerve-wracking too." esmee said.

"i understand, it was your first time playing with the team. friendly or not. being nervous and excited is normal." i validated her feelings.

"that's true. i did good in mexico so the worry was for nothing." esmee lightly laughed as i looked at her with a blush.

maria came by with our waters and asked what we wanted to eat. realizing that we spent most of our time talking instead of looking at the menu, we asked for a few extra minutes. the waitress accepted it and smiled before walking away, giving us time.

esmee and i looked through the menus deciding what we wanted. most of the menu was in spanish, so we had to flip to the english part of the menu. while looking through the menu, esmee and i didn't talk. the silence between us wasn't awkward since there was a nice jazz song playing throughout the restaurant.

"have you ever had salmon?" i asked esmee. the girl looked at me with a smile before nodding. i smiled back before saying, "i never had salmon before. the salmon with pineapple and avocado sounds good though."

"you never had salmon before? you should try it, it's good." esmee said as she looked back at her menu.

"okay, i'll try that." i closed the menu and placed it in front of me on the table. esmee looked at the menu for a couple of more seconds before closing it as well, "i'm going to get the same thing." she smiled.

"copy cat." i joked.

"i am not copying you… you just have good taste." esmee rolled her eyes playfully which made me laugh.

"i'm just kidding es. you can copy me as much as you want to without me feeling annoyed." i smiled before freaking out internally, "oh my god, i hope she didn't take that as flirting. i don't want to freak her out already." i thought. my face still had a smile and esmee lightly laughed so i dropped the thought.

after maria came back and we ordered our food, esmee and i took the opportunity to talk a lot more. we discussed our soccer/futbol journey before coming to barcelona, our families, our upcoming game with madrid cff, and our love for video games. we have a lot in common.

the dutch girl never mentioned having a girlfriend while she talked about the people close in her life, i took note of that.

maria came back with our food around 45 minutes after we ordered. esmee and i didn't talk much as we had our food but it's okay. again, the silence wasn't painful or awkward to me. other conversations from people around us and the light music kept my mind occupied.

i didn't want to stare at esmee, since that would be weird for our first time hanging out, but she looked so pretty. sometimes when i looked at her, she already looked at me with a shy smile. this made me blush, she noticed it but didn't say anything.

the check came back and the price wasn't expensive at all. esmee and i forgot to ask if we could split the check but we didn't want to bother Maria who is helping with other tables.

"I can pay for it!" I said as I placed my silver credit card on top of the receipt on the table.

esmee shook her head no as she placed her credit card on top of the receipt, handing me my card back.

"I offered to take you here so it's on me." the dutch said. she wasn't lying but i didn't want to make her feel obligated to pay for my food when i can.

"yeah but-"

"y/n, it's okay." esmee spoke softly before Maria took her card and walked away. I blushed knowing that I couldn't debate with the girl.

"okay but next time I am paying."

"there's going to be a next time?" esmee teased, her eyes filled with admiration.

"oh absolutely!" I said enjoying her company.

Next Chapter: Redirection III

a/n: long chapter, hope you enjoyed :)

[valreifang]

Lee Felix Fic! Recommendations

(pt 1) my blog tw! — some chapters/oneshots may contain heavy smut,horror,angst read at your ownrisk. 🕷️ — smut 🐈‍⬛ — fluff 🐦‍⬛— angst

CHURCH – Chase Atlantic

▶• ||ıı|||ıı|||||ı|ıı|ı. 0:30

! Miniseries + synopsis

TWIN FLAME by @/seospicybin

• 🕷️🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛

— Back home for a summer holiday, you meet the new next-door boy, Felix, who will turn your summer into a burning bright one.

HAPPY PILLS by @/seospicybin

•🕷️🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛

— For the most talented dancer slash the most popular boy in art school, Felix could date anyone at his choosing but he chooses you instead, even though the whole school knows you’re a ticking bomb that could go off any time.

ON TOUR by @/seospicybin

•🕷️🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛

— Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band's photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who's not very welcoming of you .

Weathering your shades of blue by @/blossomwritesthings

• 🕷️🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛

— ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

! Oneshots/Drabbles

SUNSHINE by @/j-One25

• 🕷️🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛

— You officially hit rock bottom. Living in a shitty apartment in a foreign city, recently broken up with your cheating boyfriend and overall just done with everything, you decide to at least have a little bit of fun when reinstalling that useless dating app.

WINGS by @/j-One25

• 🕷️

— “Oh, poor Y/N, what happened to you?” Felix, your favourite fairy, asks once he witnesses your drenched clothes.

SWAN LAKE by @/j-One25

• 🕷️🐈‍⬛🐦‍⬛

— Felix has always been a hopeless romantic and believes he always will be. His life gives him hope again, when he meets you all unexpectedly for the first time.

HURRICANE by @/j-One25

•🕷️🐈‍⬛

— Freezing in your apartment due to a heater problem, it seems as if only one person can save you - your enemy Felix

but I'll know by @/yeahspider

• 🐦‍⬛

— one hour . that’s how long felix had to wait before he could see you again .

Already over by @/yeahspider

• 🕷️🐦‍⬛

— saying that what you guys had was never good to begin with . but they wouldn’t get it . because they’ve never been loved by lee felix .

Casual by @/yeahspider

• 🕷️

— felix was never good at taking it slow . when he loved someone who loved them fast and intensely. and it was no different when it came to you .

Why does it hurt? by @/skz317cb97

•🐦‍⬛

— When your soulmate Felix can feel everything you feel he wonders, why does it always hurt?

Untitled #6 by @/matryosika

• 🕷️

— It was an accident. He didn’t mean to see that. He was just curious.

Untitled #8 by @/matryosika

•🕷️

— He was always unpredictable. There was always something else hiding behind that warm smile and those bright eyes —something that, not even in a million years you would dare to figure out.

Voice by @/matryosika

•🕷️🐦‍⬛

— "you are doing so well, precious" felix says

[evelinerossi]

Atlantic City

Atlantic City in winter offers a different charm. Here’s a glimpse of what to expect: Morning vibes on the Atlantic Explore the Boardwalk Boardwalk Morning: Start with a stroll along the iconic Atlantic City Boardwalk. Enjoy the ocean views, shops, and maybe grab breakfast at a cozy café. Afternoon: Explore the Arts Garage or the Noyes Arts Garage for local art displays and workshops. View…

[royal-chandler]

Hi! For the ficlet prompt, my three words are:

wine, tremble, lazy

🩷

Thank you for the prompt! I hope this is to your liking! ♥️

---

In March, they steal away to Paris. 

That’s the romantic narration of it, anyway. In reality, Alex had given the law firm months' notice of his plans to use up his vacation time on his and Henry’s birthdays and then worked practically non-stop until the day of their flight, weekends included. Henry’s first draft of his novel was sent to his editor via email while their plane smoked on the tarmac, also having predominantly spent the majority of the lead-up to their hop across the Atlantic working heavily, splitting his time between his office and the youth shelter. 

They mimed passing ships in the night during those closing weeks—college-try handjobs in their morning showers, a conveyor belt of a la carte lunches and takeout dinners, and catch-up conversations that sped into snores under their blankets, against the kitchen island, and in front of the muted tv.  

At one embarrassingly low point, Alex had sluggishly hiked the steps of the brownstone, lost a battle with his set of keys, and called Henry to let him in because something was wrong with the lock. Stepping outside of the neighboring door, phone still pressed to his ear, Henry had laughed that their locks were actually just fine. 

All worth it, Alex decides, living to tell the tale and look over the cinematic heart of the city—the crowd of rooftops and warm shades of gold dotted from the streetlamps all the way to the Eiffel Tower—from his seat on their terrace as music spills from the hotel room.

A deviation from restaurant reservations and room service and at Henry’s insistence, it’s a Parisian picnic tonight. Alex doesn’t know how or when Henry had gotten it done, now that they’re in each other's pockets again but it’s a postcard setting. The round table is draped with the classic checkered cloth and topped with candles and a decanter of wine, and there’s an assortment of fresh breads, cheeses, fruits, and meats—including the chicken mousse that the Texan in Alex really hadn't wanted to like but is shamefully into.

He’s spreading it thick onto another pinch of bread when Henry comments, amused, “We’ll need to make some extra room in your suitcase to accommodate bringing a case of that back home.”

“Ugh yes,” Alex agrees, popping the bread in his mouth. Once he’s swallowed, he tacks on, “But we’ll have to hide it deep in our cabinets. Like not easily visible to our guests. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

“Think you're safe there,” Henry replies, rolling his eyes but his tone rings nothing less than charmed. “I truly doubt that anyone aside from you has ever uttered the words ‘a meat has no validity unless you can throw barbecue sauce on it.’”

“Okay, I’ll grant you maybe not in that exact syntax but the sentiment is out there. Trust me,” Alex insists before a sip of the wine he also wants to smuggle back to the States. 

Every single thing Henry has picked out for the night has been divine but Alex is most appreciative of the picture across from him. Henry is an academic stunner in his sweater, a soft earthy green that he fills out so perfectly with his broad shoulders and curved arms it’ll almost be a travesty when Alex hauls it off of him later. His hair is grown out and dark, partially swept back and behind an ear that’s now pierced with a circle of silver. Best of everything fucking wonderful, there's pretty crescent moons around Henry's mouth that rival the full one hanging above them.

“Whatever you say, love,” Henry says with his grin after waiting out Alex’s intake of him, wise to Alex as always.

“Whatever you say, love,” Alex parrots back, a second nature refrain. “Ooh speaking of, tomorrow’s your day, baby. Was there anything you had in mind?”

There’s a poignant change in Henry’s expression, his mouth so ready-set-go that Alex expects him to name drop another book store or museum with specific pursuits for wherever they go, to unburden an impassioned lecture on a literary figure or regale Alex with the lengthy history behind a painting they have to see and study. 

What Alex doesn’t expect is for Henry to come to his side and take a careful knee, to pull a square jewelry box from its hiding place in Henry’s pants pocket and for Henry’s hand to slightly tremble as it flips the box open before holding it out.

Alex doesn’t expect the gorgeous band of gold that shines in candle light and rings around his heart, claiming it.

“I’d love to enjoy the entire day with my fiancé if he would abide?” Henry offers simply.

“Yes,” Alex says, sure and within so slim a breath, his answer is merely a punctuation on Henry’s question.

Alex makes surprise wait until the ring has slipped on his finger, until he’s kissed Henry with the intent to do so for the rest of his life, until he’s got Henry underneath him and around him in their bed—lazy with love and then impatient with it. There, Alex will let surprise meet and then yield to the knowledge that tomorrow he’ll have a proposal of his own.