#i did meet a lovely guy who i sipped wine with and had lovely conversation with all day long

[ikeuverse]

two worlds | psh

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader  genres: angst, smut, slight fluff wc: 7.6k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : some swearing, alcohol consumption, controlling father, a little argument. sex on the kitchen worktop, quick female masturbation, unprotected sex (pack before use, and do it safely!!!), cumming inside, sunghoon is too soft for now, i think that's it. lmk if i missed anything.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : you and sunghoon have known each other since university, but you belong to different worlds. that wouldn't be a factor that would prevent you and him from getting together, if it weren't for the fear of confessing to each other and, when that happened, you wouldn't be able to tell him that you were going away… to another country.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : i went through so many plots until i ended up with this one. it was my work after more than a month of writer's block, so i can't say if i'm satisfied with it or not. but at least it helped me write something. all feedback is appreciated, so i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 part 2 | masterlist ꒱

You thought it would be a good idea to go into the bar even though you had cried for countless hours before being there. Hesitating in that particular place wasn't something new for you, after all, it was where your friends met every Friday night.

You just happened to be there alone and in the middle of a Wednesday. The stress of your daily life and the weight you were carrying for fulfilling the wishes of your self-centered and petty father only made your mind spin and you succumbed to an absurd urge to drop everything and run. And you ran to the bar you knew so well. But not because you needed a drink urgently – although you knew the alcohol would be consumed somehow – but because someone there was your refuge at times like these.

Park Sunghoon was the owner of the best-known and most popular bar. Because he was the epitome of beauty, kind, and polite even in a sea of people who were completely drunk and came to that place looking to dance, rub themselves, and wind up with someone. But he was also known as your best friend since university and the guy who stole your heart.

It was hard not to fall in love with Sunghoon when he treated you so well from the moment you and he shared a few classes. When he brought you a steaming cup of coffee twice a week from his grandfather's coffee shop because you'd been there once and said you liked it. How did he remember that? You wondered every time you took a sip of the drink. But Sunghoon only thought, how could he forget?

All the details surrounding you were hard to forget and he came to realize that this was part of the little feeling that was going on between the two of you, even though Sunghoon was afraid to ask you out. Not because it would ruin the friendship, he was very forward-thinking and knew that neither you nor he would be able to do that because it was something beyond what the two of you shared. But because the worlds in which you and he lived were completely different.

You were studying to improve your knowledge and take over your father's company. You wore social clothes, high heels, and the most expensive imported perfumes so that you could meet your father's clients, who would be yours in the future, while you drank expensive wine and listened to banal conversations. At the same time, Sunghoon studied to understand how the corporate world worked, and business and to be able to take over his grandfather's coffee shop. When he passed away, he left it in his name and turned it into the bar it is today. Wearing shabby clothes, torn jeans, and blouses stained with all kinds of drink and food that he had already lost count of.

The coffee shop would have been very welcome if he was still a university student looking for a part-time job just to make some extra money, but with the end of university and a life full of bills and supporting himself, a bar would make a lot more money because he was now an adult. And adults liked alcohol, loud music, and a lot of flirting.

That's what he thought when he changed everything, from the paintings on the wall to the name of the establishment. His best friends became his partners to help run the bar and that's what helped him get a bit more of a head start on sales and popularity. Because they were well-known people at the university, and with Sunghoon being part of the soccer team and the popular kids, this consequently attracted many people who studied with them to become regular customers there.

You and your friends were one of them. Although you also liked to go to see Sunghoon and his best friends who were also your friends. That's why Fridays became a casual get-together for your group of friends.

But it wasn't today and that made you a little more apprehensive and tearful because it was the first time you'd been to the bar alone. You didn't go in with a friend or one of the boys waiting at the door to take you to the table they'd booked for the night.

Your steps were dragged and nervous as you passed people, bodies sweaty and dancing. Loud conversations as you heard someone cursing a soccer team from last night, another group of friends talking about kissing someone at the next table. You focused on every corner even though you didn't want to focus on anything and just went to the bar, lucky if any of the boys were there.

As soon as you finally got close, a few more steps and you'd be near the counter, but not before stopping and taking a look. Quickly sniffling to try to keep away the tears that were still collecting in your eyes because you didn't want any of your friends to see you cry. If you were lucky, the light in the bar would be so dark that it would camouflage your true face and you could make up an excuse and say that you just stopped by to say hello because you were nearby.

Your hands were hesitant as soon as you touched the counter in the empty space when a couple walked away after picking up their drinks and heading for the dance floor.

"Hello, welcome. What can I do—" Jay was one of Sunghoon's best friends and very much your friend too, not least because he was your best friend's boyfriend "Y/n?" his eyebrows arched in surprise and a small smile appeared on his lips as soon as he saw you.

"Hi, Jay" you tried your best not to sound shaky, although you knew that the volume of the music would mask your true feelings.

"What are you doing here?" he looked at you and then around "Is Stella or the girls with you?"

"No, no. I came alone" you pulled up a stool to sit down, your hands resting on the marble of the counter and your eyes darting to the numerous bottles behind Jay before you focused your gaze on him.

"Did you come for a drink?" he followed your gaze as you turned away momentarily, noticing that you were staring at the whisky bottles. After turning back to you, Jay sighed when you nodded slightly "On a Wednesday?"

"Are you monitoring me, Jongseong?"

"Ugh, I hate it when you all call me that, you sound like you're mad" he snapped and walked over to the side of the whisky bottles. Pulling out a bottle and a shot glass, Jay slid it in front of him and filled some of the contents.

Your eyes flicked to the label, slowly reading Hennessy. The brand was known to you, it was one of the whiskies your father used to drink. Feeling the burning sensation he supposedly felt every time he drank made you shiver, not from the alcohol itself, but from thinking about your father at that moment.

"Thank you" you said to Jay as soon as he held out the glass to you. A small smile captured his lips as you turned the glass over in one go.

"For God's sake, Y/n, take it easy" he warned "If you're having a bad day, this will only get worse."

"One more, please" you tried to ignore his caution. Jay just rolled his eyes and took the empty glass from your hand, filling it much less than the first shot.

Then the second, third, and fourth he didn't even want to say much. Although he had already put a glass of water in with the glass of whisky he had poured for you. Jay's silent request is for you to have at least a little more water next time.

You could protest and grumble at how overprotective he was, remembering how he was with Stella in the first place. Then with you and your other friends because, according to Jay, anyone who looked after his girlfriend also deserved to be looked after. That's why he was so protective and nice to you.

But this overprotection was nothing compared to Sunghoon's with you, and for a second your mind switched off from the fact that he could be there and would show up at any moment. You just didn't realize that it would be abruptly, knocking the glass out of your hand and slamming it against the counter.

"You've had too much to drink" didn't take a genius or being drunk enough to register Sunghoon's voice entering your ears. You only refused to turn towards him, but you felt the boy's presence right behind you.

"I think I'm a customer here today, so Jay, please" you ignored the fact that the glass was next to Sunghoon's hand and pulled it out to hand it to Jay.

You couldn't register his expression when he saw you pick up the glass, because your body was turned just in time along with the stool you were sitting on. Facing Sunghoon, who lowered himself to the level of your face.

"You're going home, right? I'll drive you" he said.

"Nope" you muttered back.

"We're not having this conversation here, Y/n."

"And nowhere else" your pout almost made him give in and lean forward to kiss you, but Sunghoon held back, his hands squeezing the upholstery of the seat you were sitting on and slowly rubbing the side of his thumbs against your leg.

He opened his mouth to say more, to force you out of there, or to make fun of the fact that he had been watching you for a while as you drank and talked to Jay while he served other people at the bar. He wanted to tell you more, to say that his heart was racing with worry because you were never one to drink like that and it was strange to see you so resistant. But all his words fell flat when Sunghoon looked deep into your eyes and saw you crumble.

You let the tears fall freely down your cheeks and the urge to sniffle and sob that you'd been holding in all night now surfaced when he wrapped his arms around you to hold you against his chest.

"Jay, you can take over here, right?" he asked.

"Sure, go ahead, mate" Jay said "Call me if you need anything, me and the boys will lock up here and run to you two."

You could imagine the sad smile Jay was giving Sunghoon to try and comfort him as he lifted you off the bar stool and walked with you through all those drunk people until he left. Still holding you against him for fear that someone might touch you or that you might disappear from his sight, Sunghoon didn't want anything to happen to you.

"Did you come by car?" he asked when the two of you arrived outside. The icy wind didn't even tickle your body because you were so immersed in Sunghoon's arms that you couldn't feel anything.

Pointing in the direction of the parking lot, he pulled you along with him until he was able to locate your car without too much effort.

"I need your keys" he asked, releasing your arms to turn towards you and look at you straight on.

Noticing every little feature of you since you'd arrived at the bar. The office clothes hugged your curves, and every piece of clothing looked great on you. The combinations of turquoise and gray further enhanced your beauty and every feature that Sunghoon had fallen in love with.

"No purse?"

"In the car" you said in a tearful voice, reaching for the keys in the back pocket of the pants you were wearing to hand them to him.

Sunghoon took them and unlocked the alarm for you both to get in, holding the passenger door for you until you sat down and he could close the door. Running to the driver's side and getting in too.

If it had been any other time, that silence between the two of you would have been comfortable and just what you needed amid so much confusion in your week. But it was killing you because you knew that Sunghoon looked furious. Maybe at you, you didn't know for sure, but you shrugged when you felt the tears still falling down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry" you whispered as quietly as you could, breaking the silence inside the car, which was still at a complete standstill.

The only sound coming from Sunghoon's lips were the interspersed sighs he gave, running his hands over his face and then through his hair countless times. Well, your apology shouldn't be accepted, after all, because on another occasion he would say that you didn't need to apologize. That it wasn't your fault or anything to comfort you. But Sunghoon wasn't saying anything and that made you cry even more.

You turned your face towards him to see if there was any glimmer of comfort or something you could cling to so that he wouldn't feel that way. Your eyes traveled down his figure, noticing the contrast in clothing the two of you were wearing. Sunghoon was wearing a beige shirt with a huge stain near the sleeve, probably a drink that some customer had knocked over or that he or the boys had made at the bar. There was a small tear in the collar and it was halfway down his hip. Sunghoon's torn and worn jeans gave the outfit a total charm and it made you smile through your tears because it was so characteristic of him.

"Sunghoon…" you decided to call him after you didn't get an answer from him, earning you his gaze straight away.

Sunghoon's brow furrowed at the sight of you crying next to him and his heart squeezed even tighter because he didn't know how to act in the face of so much worry and nervousness. He had seen you cry many times before, but what had gotten into him to act like that? Why was he being so rude when all you had done was go to his bar to drink and cry? Something was happening and he needed to act, but he wasn't thinking straight.

So he didn't think much of it either when he turned and raised his hands to hold your face, bringing your face close to his and leaning his forehead against yours. That act in itself was something between you and him beyond intimacy. Something the two of you shared, in a mute attempt to convey the will to go further. To break through that barrier to touch lips and kiss. But neither you nor Sunghoon had ever done that.

His thumbs brushed against your cheek, the delicate touch contrasting with the roughness of Sunghoon's skin against yours. His breath hitched against your trembling lips and you almost asked him to go further, but you held back.

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" he asked suddenly, in a whisper. His thumbs were still caressing your cheeks and you let out a shaky sigh at the question.

"I don't want to set foot in that place any time soon" you said.

Opening your eyes to find Sunghoon's gaze already on you, your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when he looked directly at your lips. But just as quickly as he did this, he managed to look away and back at you properly.

"So I'm spending the night in your apartment" he kissed your forehead, lingering his lips against your skin before pulling away and straightening up in the driver's seat "You need to tell me why you showed up here at the bar on a Wednesday, crying."

"And you'll need to tell me why you fought with me today" you pouted, hearing him laugh for the first time since you met that night.

Sunghoon agreed, starting the car's engine to get out of there and head straight to his apartment.

Staying up late talking about what had caused all this was the right thing to do, even if your body was begging for some sleep after a long hot bath. You remember telling Sunghoon that it was trouble with your father, as usual. The way the man wanted to control your life in the worst possible way, not content with having decided your future, he wanted to decide anything else that involved you.

But the subject was cut off there, you didn't want to tell your best friend that the real reason you were crying wasn't even your father's control over your life and his idiotic hunches, but that in a few weeks, you wouldn't be here anymore. You would no longer live in this country and, worst of all, you would no longer see Sunghoon. That was better left unsaid as you fell asleep in his arms, preventing him from leaving your bed after hearing all your wails, promising that you wouldn't cry about it anymore.

Even though it was hard to think that you would no longer be close to him. That, in all this time, you hadn't even managed to declare yourself or hear a statement from him. So now being in another country, with unrequited love – or so you both thought – couldn't be worse.

Either that or the little hangover that took over your body as soon as dawn broke and you opened your eyes. The slight difficulty in keeping them open when you groped around and didn't feel Sunghoon's warm body anywhere. Had he already left, then? Or had he decided to sleep in the guest room in the middle of the night? This last option is ruled out because you remember turning over a few times in the early hours of the morning or stirring in your sleep and feeling his arms around you. It was one of the times he slept in the same bed as you, doing so only when your friends went to sleep in your apartment and used the other two spare bedrooms. This was done more often than you thought, but it wasn't so important to think about it now.

Sitting up in bed after much pondering, you felt your head spin a little and your eyes finally open. Contemplating the moment when you should have been at your father's company – which would soon be yours – but here you were, in your apartment after a wave of hangover hit on a Thursday morning. It wasn't that bad, you remember doing it a few times while you were at college. The only difference was that the place would be full of university students, your friends who were supposed to meet up at the bar on Friday. But one of them was certainly there in your apartment at that moment, and you realized it as soon as you got out of bed to walk out of the room.

The smell of food invaded your nostrils as you walked down the corridor to the top of the stairs. Noises of cutlery and frying and an undeniable smell of coffee pulled you further and further into the kitchen of your apartment. Sunghoon was unbelievable and you knew he would do anything to see you well. You just didn't know that he would prepare an entire breakfast when the scene in front of you said so.

"Good morning" he smiled at you when he saw you leaning against the doorframe, sleepy and even more beautiful than he remembered.

Your smile soon followed and you almost fell back when your eyes finally caught up with him. He had slept without his shirt on, but seeing him like that right in front of you was too much. Sunghoon was wearing sweatpants belonging to Jake, who always left his or Jay's clothes at your apartment every time he went there with you, Stella, and his girlfriend. Sunghoon also had a few pieces here and there, but Jake's pants were the first he'd found the night before, so putting them on quickly to wrap you in a hug was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

"Good morning" you decided, pushing aside any thoughts and smiling at him, approaching in slow steps the slender, gorgeous guy who was preparing a mug of coffee "Is that for me?"

He hummed excitedly, putting a few things into the mug before turning and handing it to you.

"I found some things in your cupboard and I think I may have managed to replicate my grandfather's coffee, the one we had at university."

"Don't play games with me" you pouted as you picked up the mug "Are you serious?"

He leaned down to touch his lips to the top of your head, sniffing your hair and smelling the shampoo on your strands.

"You tell me" Sunghoon moved away to finish making the pancakes and arrange the bacon and eggs on the table on the other side of the counter, where he turned around and walked away from you.

Your eyes captured the whole moment as he took a long sip of coffee. It was just like his grandfather's, perhaps with a little more cinnamon and a hint of vanilla that you felt as the liquid went down your throat. It might have been Sunghoon's style, but the essence was completely his grandfather's from what you remembered from university. Smiling at this, you watched him set up the whole breakfast game while humming some tune you couldn't identify because your brain was focusing on his every move. The muscles flexed as he bent over to arrange the plates, or how his brow furrowed as he balanced the juice container on the table.

You didn't want to feel your heart squeeze at that scene because Sunghoon had already done it a few times. For both you and your friends, it was normal to see him excited about making breakfast or being so domestic. But it wasn't normal for you to feel like you might explode, that you needed to tell him that in a few weeks, you'd both be far enough apart that he'd – maybe – even forget about you.

"Hey, Y/n" his voice was desperate and snapped you out of your thoughts when you noticed him running away from where you were to come towards you. You only realized you were crying when he took the mug from your hand and ran his fingers down your cheek, collecting your freshly fallen tears "What happened? Did I do something wrong or…?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong" you sobbed quietly, your hands encircling his fists as Sunghoon held your face between them.

"So what happened?" he asked. "Is there something else bothering you?"

Yes. I'm practically moving out and we won't see each other for who knows how long. You choked on that thought as you looked into his eyes, the concern evident and the glint that adorned the dark orbs that you admired so much.

Your thoughts were consuming you as Sunghoon leaned towards you, trying to listen or hoping that words would come out of your mouth so that he could understand what was happening to you. In his mind, something at breakfast or the night before was completely wrong.

He may have overstepped the mark when he held you while you slept, keeping you close to his body the whole time. Or that he went through your kitchen and prepared a huge breakfast on a weekday when you were supposed to be in your office and you were here with him. But that didn't make sense and he just wanted to think that you were vulnerable from having bad times with your father and the weight on your back from trying to please him at all costs.

Sunghoon understood how burdened you were by this how much you disliked what you had and how your relationship with your father was, he understood from the moment you two met. That's what made you fall in love with him because he always understood you. And he fell in love with you because he saw you beyond any designer clothes you wore or jewelry your father gave you to put around your neck. He saw your eyes, your smile, he saw you for real.

And he was seeing it now, in front of him in your kitchen, and as your tears slowly dried until you stopped crying. Sunghoon thought about asking you again what had happened or if you wanted him to leave so you could be alone, but it was his turn to have his mind flooded with nothing but you when he felt your lips on his.

Suddenly, without any pretext, you simply leaned forward and kissed him.

Sunghoon's hands ran to your waist and pulled you against his body, afraid that this was his mind betraying him, or that he was daydreaming about your lips against his. But as soon as you whimpered softly to ask for permission to kiss him, he knew he wasn't dreaming.

Tongues soon intertwined and the taste of coffee in your mouth quickly passed into his mouth, making Sunghoon moan softly as he pressed you between his body and the kitchen counter. It was a repressed feeling since the time you two discovered such feelings and that you held onto until the present moment. If he had known that kissing you would be like this, that your mouth would fit perfectly on his, and that you would have the sweetest breath against his lips, Sunghoon would have kissed you much sooner. He would have taken advantage of every opportunity he had around you, your mouth, or the moments when you two almost kissed by accident. He should have done all this before because it was heavenly to feel your mouth move against his.

It was all too much and the way you were making him feel, but when your nails slid to the back of his neck, sanity had long since left Sunghoon's body. He slid his hands down your thighs and supported your body to place you sitting on the kitchen counter. The icy marble on your thighs and half of your ass where the shorts couldn't cover, you moaned against his mouth and leaned your body forward with a shiver running through you. Your chest pressed against his and Sunghoon fit between your legs, as little space as possible between the two of you.

Pulling away after a long while, he rolled his eyes to your lips to notice a thin layer of saliva and the redness of your bottom lip. Swollen and all beautiful while he wasn't much different. Your chest rose and fell to normalize your breathing and he kept his hands resting on the counter beside each of your thighs.

“Y/n” he called your name, voice hoarse like a plea for you to keep him between your legs even after the kiss was over.

"Yeah?" you answered him, hands running down his chest and feeling Sunghoon's heart speed up under your fingers when your hand stopped there. Your eyes stared into his as your legs pressed against Sunghoon's ass to press him between your legs.

“Shit” he moaned as the growing erection pressed between your legs, the heat of your still-covered pussy making him shudder.

Quickly Sunghoon's hands slid down your thighs and went to the waistband of your pajama shorts, grabbing the fabric without taking it out of place. You tightened your legs around his waist again and at that moment you saw him gain courage and roll your hips against his. Sunghoon’s dick was rock hard and you couldn’t hold back your moan as the perfect movement made the head of his dick press against your swollen clit. The wonderful friction of dry fucking as he alternated his hips between rolling and going back and forth, only to be able to draw moans from your lips each time his dick got the perfect pressure on your pussy.

“Sunghoon” you moaned his name, hands moving down from his chest to his stomach slowly. The nail scratched all the way down forming a red trail against the white skin in front of you. You stopped with your fingers on the waistband of the pants he was wearing, swallowing hard when his hand on the waistband of your shorts went down.

"Yes, my love?" he whispered. So deep making your pussy clench around nothing, and it was pathetic how you felt like this while he had barely touched you.

“Can you—” your voice hitched, your eyes closed quickly when Sunghoon's fingers entered your shorts and panties, going straight to your wet clit.

His moan made you moan too, combined with the pressure of his fingertips rubbing circles on your muscles in need of attention. It felt so good not to have to ask him for much, knowing that the impulse to kiss him was making you do this kind of thing that you didn't even know would happen. Much less him.

Feeling like you had kissed him was something Sunghoon never thought would happen, especially since you were always shyer than him. All the advances and physical contact between the two of you came from him, so he thought that, if one day there was a kiss between you and him, he would definitely make the first move. But since it hadn't happened, Sunghoon was left to enjoy that moment because he knew he was giving himself as much as you.

You could no longer hold back the desire he had to have you in his arms, at his fingertips, wrapped around his dick. Sunghoon wanted to feel you.

"That is good?" he asked as he ran his fingers down your pussy lips, parting them with the obscene sound of your wetness spreading. You would be embarrassed just to hear it, but you no longer cared as his fingers worked wonders on your pussy.

“That feels wonderful” you moaned as he circled his index finger around your entrance, feeling like you had clenched around nothing. As impatient as he is.

With a movement away, you almost cried when you no longer felt Sunghoon's fingers in your pussy. Almost grabbing him back and shoving his hand where you needed him most. But everything calmed down when you saw that he was grabbing your shorts and panties, asking you to lift your hips so he could remove what was getting in the way.

Soon the pieces of clothing were on the floor and you thanked the gods for being free down there, with his hand returning to surround your clit in circular movements. Sunghoon's nimble and skilled fingers made small drawings on your pussy while his other hand went up to your face and held it. Cupped between your cheek and neck so that he kept your face close to his while the fingers in your pussy were slid to your entrance.

“Don’t hide your sounds from me, okay?” he asked as he introduced two fingers at once, watching you bite your bottom lip hard. Sunghoon smiled when you opened your eyes to look at him, nodding as you let your moans come out freely.

The stretch of your pussy felt divine to him, his fingers covered in arousal and your walls clenching so deliciously as he went deeper with slow movements. Not because he wanted to torture you, but because he was taking his time as he felt you getting wetter and wetter so he could take his cock.

Meanwhile, his hands reached down with difficulty to the waistband of the pants he wore to sleep, pushing it down just to free the head of his dick. Because you didn't have enough strength to continue the work since Sunghoon's fingers in your pussy took away any concentration you had. He chuckled softly at your snort of displeasure at not getting what he wanted to do, then he leaned in to kiss your lips.

A tender, slow, and affectionate kiss. With your tongues moving against each other romantically, silently conveying that you two loved each other, even if it was never said in the first place.

Sunghoon removed his fingers from your pussy with a pornographic pop due to the amount of juices coming out of there. He took the opportunity to lower his pants to his feet and use his fingers, wet with your essence, to wrap around the head of his dick and smear it along with the precum that came out of there. That scene could be worth any orgasm he had as you watched him slowly masturbate in front of you, with his finger full of you and his precum. This was making you so hot that you decided to take off your pajama shirt, now matching his nudity.

You pulled him by the back of his head and kissed him. Wanting to occupy your mouth or something other than focusing on his dick that was already throbbing to be inside you, soon feeling him pull you closer to the edge of the kitchen counter and feeling his dick against your thigh.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” he asked gently against your lips, you sighed softly and agreed, whispering a slow “yes” to him.

As if he already knew your body, Sunghoon was precise in positioning the head of his dick in your pussy and sliding it from your clit, the soaked lips, and your entrance. Collecting even more of your juices until the head of his cock was in your hole. Slowly entering your pussy with almost stopping movements, just so that you felt comfortable each time he moved inside you to penetrate a little more.

Your nails scratched every inch of his skin that was visible and touchable to you, and he smiled, satisfied, knowing that those marks would remain on his skin for a long time. Not that it was a bother because Sunghoon would happily tell anyone who asked that it was his girl who had done it.

“Fuck” you grunted as his pelvis finally slammed against yours, his dick completely inside you. Big and throbbing, touching your spongy part in a slow movement that he made as he started to pull out and re-enter your pussy.

“Are you—” he moaned “Fuck, Y/n” Sunghoon’s lips found yours again.

Your hot pussy sucking his cock was the best feeling Sunghoon could have felt in his life. It was as if your pussy had molded itself to him in just a few seconds while he was inside you, no longer wanting to come out.

“You can move now, Hoonie��� calling him that nickname always made something in Sunghoon light up, but the way you whimpered and then moaned, made Sunghoon's hips slam hard against yours.

He would even apologize for how careless he was in fucking you like that because he wanted to take it slow and take his time. He wanted to enjoy every movement, but the excitement of hearing you call him made something click in him.

Responding to your requests, Sunghoon began to move between your legs. His cock moved in and out slowly but hit you hard every time his pelvis met yours. The sound of skin slapping together, accompanied by the moans you two shared was the soundtrack of that kitchen. Sunghoon went back to cupping your face in his hands, cupping each side of your cheek to keep your face in place as he fucked your hips against his. Your legs wrapped around him pressing your thighs against his waist to press him further as he bottomed out, his cock reaching your cervix with each hard thrust until the end.

“You feel so good, love” he moaned close to your mouth, his gaze falling between your bodies to see his cock being swallowed by your pussy. The white ring of his excitement wetting his dick to his pelvis when he got close to your pussy.

The lazy smile he gave you when he looked back at you, his face fucked up and his eyes focused on his every move.

“Hoonie” you called him.

"Yes, love?" he leaned in, mouth brushing against his and hip movements never stopping as he tried to hear what you had to say.

It could be the horniness taking over you, or the need to say it because you didn't know when you would have another opportunity. And if it would have. He could run away and never see you again, but you would need to take that chance while you were being fucked by him in your kitchen.

Your hands reached for his hands on your face, sliding one of them along the prominent veins on Sunghoon's forearm. He sighed softly at the touch, smiling against your mouth.

“I'm in love with you” your voice followed by a loud moan as he slammed his hips against yours, his cock entering your pussy completely.

The action itself was a shock because he wasn't expecting it. Maybe hearing you say that he was doing great, that his cock was something amazing, or something related to the sex you two were sharing. But never something he looked forward to hearing, not when his dick was buried inside your pussy.

Sunghoon slowed down the pace of his thrusts, remaining with his hands on your face before taking your lips in a slow kiss, sucking the tip of your tongue to your lower lip.

“I've always wanted to hear that” he sighed breathlessly, one of his thumbs going down to your bottom lip and pressing there “Because I've been in love with you since we met, Y/n.”

It would be romantically beautiful if he didn't have his hair disheveled, sweaty, and plastered to his forehead. And if you weren't oozing excitement from your pussy onto the kitchen counter and his dick if your body wasn't on the verge of exploding. But no matter how you and him were, hearing that made things a little better for you.

“Then show me” you whispered “Make me cum on your cock.”

He just nodded without having the courage to contradict you or say how sexy you were commanding him like that. Because Sunghoon also wanted to cum and it wasn't much different from you.

Returning the ministrations of your hips against his and burying his cock in you, he accelerated the pace of his thrusts, and the sound of skin slapping filled the kitchen again. His cock buried itself deeper and deeper into your pussy and soaked between your thighs and his abdomen each time he went even deeper into you.

Sunghoon pressed his thumb again on your lower lip, collecting some of your saliva so he could wet his finger and go down to your clit. Spreading your saliva there to stimulate the neglected muscle as he fucked his dick inside you.

“Come for me then, love. I want to hear you moan my name” he whispered close to your ear, sliding his mouth down your neck and biting the place eagerly.

Teeth dug into your skin as he sped up his thrusts as he felt his cock pulse inside you and your pussy squeeze him against its walls. Sunghoon could scream right then and there when he felt you contract around him, moaning his name as he asked and writhing on the kitchen counter. Your nails dug into his shoulders as a way to balance himself, taking possession of the man who fucked you so good and squeezed your clit until he extracted the last drop of your cum.

“I want you to cum inside me” you whispered close to his ear, taking advantage of the fact that Sunghoon’s lips were still on your neck “Please, Hoonie.”

You could be a huge motherfucker and he had never seen that side of you until now. But it also wasn't complaining that you were like that with him, on the contrary. It was great to see this side of you from the angle and position he was in.

Sunghoon gave a few more thrusts into your convulsing and overstimulated pussy, going deep with his dick until jets of cum painted each of your walls white, feeling the heat take over your pussy as he slid his dick inside you. Pulsating and incredibly skilled, pushing harder and harder until he stopped cumming inside you.

He was stunned and panting, teeth sliding across your skin and a hickey left in place before he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. Still keeping his cock inside you to have the heat of your pussy envelop him a little more.

“You…” he started saying, clearing his throat when he felt it dry. You knew what he was going to say, trying not to show any sadness and just focusing on the moment he was having. “You really meant that, didn’t you?”

“About being in love with you?” you asked, seeing him agree with a shy nod. As if he didn’t still have his dick inside you and had fucked you just a few minutes ago “Of course I do.”

“Good” Sunghoon smiled at you, kissing your lips to get out of your pussy and prevent you both from moaning loudly at the feeling of each other’s emptiness “Now let’s clean ourselves up, shall we?”

It was your turn to agree, accepting his help to get off the counter and go to your room.

You didn’t want to say anything to him about not seeing each other anymore or about how you were leaving. Many possibilities were running around your mind and you thought of something that might work. But none of them were involved in facing Sunghoon face to face after today.

"A letter? Who would send that nowadays?” Sunghoon laughed as he took the envelope from Jay's hand, rolling his eyes and pulling out a chair to sit down.

It was close to lunch and the bar wasn't even close to opening, but he and his best friends always went at that time to have lunch together and clean the bar before the night was full of the customers they always used to come to.

It was Friday and he was excited because he knew he would spend time with his friends and, more than that, he would spend his time with you. He would finally have you with him after telling you he was in love with you and hearing that you were in love with him back. Sunghoon could have sworn this was all a dream because less than two days ago he heard it, waiting for a long time since college.

But if all the waiting was made up for with the sex you two had in the kitchen, then continued in the bedroom and ended up in the bathroom of your apartment, he would be completely happy with having waited so long.

“Open it already, dude” Jay whined “Or I’ll do it and read it out loud.”

Sunghoon denied all of Jay's theatrics and rolled his eyes, opening the envelope that had no sender, only the recipient. He sighed as he unfolded the paper inside.

“It’s a letter from Y/n” he smiled at the paper when he recognized your handwriting.

Jay also smiled, remembering the day before when he received Sunghoon's call after he left your house. Telling everything that had happened, maybe omitting some details so it wouldn't be so embarrassing for Jay, but he still wanted to tell about the small statement. About how he saw the sparkle in his eyes when he heard that you were in love with him and how you shivered in his arms when he heard that it was reciprocal.

But also, how could it not? Sunghoon would be crazy if he wasn't in love with you back. He would call himself every name possible for not realizing how amazing you were and how passionate you were too.

As he read that letter, the smile disappeared and Jay did the same, not understanding why Sunghoon seemed so apprehensive reading something you had sent him. Not after the time the two of you shared.

“Hey, dude” Jay called him, but all Sunghoon did was crumple up that paper and throw it on the table.

Leaving without saying a single word he rolled up the bar door and disappeared from there.

“What happened to him?” Heeseung appeared next, startled by the noise the door made as soon as Sunghoon left.

Jay was just as confused as he was, not wanting to invade his friend's privacy, but he was worried and knew that Sunghoon or Heeseung would do the same for him if they saw him like that. So the boy did the most sensible thing, which was to crumple the paper to read the letter you had written to Sunghoon.

His eyes widened with each word before reading specific things you had written, one of them being the reason why Sunghoon had left there like that.

Maybe it was our last moment together because, in a few weeks, I'm moving to Switzerland. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just… I was scared.

Jay put the pieces together little by little. So that was the reason that made you go to the bar crying on Wednesday, you were moving to Switzerland. And you would lose Sunghoon one way or another because you certainly had your father's hand in this decision, which certainly wasn't his.

Now all that was left was to know what the boy would do with this information, because the way Sunghoon left that bar, he hadn't taken the news very well.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - part 1

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: reader has a boyfriend who is not so fond of spencer, or the fact that reader and spencer are best friends. this causes, yet another, argument between reader and her boyfriend. 

a/n: HEY GANGGGGGG!!!!!! so…… i have no idea when i posted last but frankly, idgaf!! so here’s some more food for you!!! this might be my fav series i’ll ever post tbh😉😉😉 also this isn’t in any specific season, i just have alex(i can’t remember her last name as im writing this) from s8 in here just because

————————————————————————

spencer and i held eye contact across the kitchen at rossi’s house one evening. 

he was involved in a conversation with morgan and alex, while i was under the arm of my boyfriend, james, as he talked to hotch about something. 

i wasn’t listening, just focusing on not blinking. spencer smiled slightly, struggling to keep himself from blinking. 

he pulled a face, making me smile and laugh quietly. 

“that’s cheating.” i mouthed. 

“no it’s not.” spencer mouthed back, smiling softly. 

i stuck my tongue out at him and crossed my eyes so that my vision became obscured. looking back with focused eyes made me realize he was blinking. 

“i win!” i cheer audibly, staying quiet enough to not interrupt the flow of words coming from james’ mouth. he did shoot me a confused look.

spencer rolled his eyes and sipped from the glass of red wine he had in his hand. he was sucked back into the conversation he was initially involved in, head turning towards alex as she started talking. 

i sighed and looked up at james, forcing a smile onto my lips as he kept on talking to hotch without giving me a glance. 

i shifted my gaze to hotch, finding him staring at me. his eyes had that worried look in them i saw sometimes and i smiled to assure i was okay. he looked away and i released a sigh i didn’t know i was holding in. 

“you ready to get going?” james’ voice got me looking back up at him. i took a few seconds to process his question before nodding. 

“i’m gonna go say bye and i’ll meet you at the front door, okay?” i took my arm out from where it was around his while he nodded. i turned on my heel and headed over to where jj, penelope, and rossi were standing. i said goodbye to them, which they were sad to hear, before going to see alex, morgan and spencer. 

“i wish you didn’t have to go.” spencer whispered while he gave me a hug. 

“i know, me too.” i whispered back, giving him a quick gentle squeeze before releasing him. 

“i’ll see you tomorrow, spence.” i waved to him and then everyone else before finding james by the front door. 

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

when james and i got to our apartment i immediately went to our room to get changed. 

“did you have fun?” i asked from the closet.

james stood in the doorway to our room, nodding. “yeah. that guys house was cool.” 

“rossi is very rich, and he will flaunt it.” i laughed. james hummed with a sound that told me he was unamused. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing it’s just… spencer was staring a lot.” he told me. “it’s like he’s got to hots for you or something.” 

i eyed him in my periphery. “he doesn’t.” i assured. my hands moved over the compartments in the closet while i tired to find what i wanted to wear after my shower.

“mhm, yeah okay. because friends gawk like that.” james sounded annoyed. “seriously, like it was kind of hard to enjoy everything when he was staring like that.”

“hey, don’t put your view of the entire evening on spencer.” i told him while exiting the walk-in closet. 

james rolled his eyes. “of course you’re defending him.” 

“i’m not defending him, james!”

“yes you are! you always do!”

“because he’s my best friend! you’d defend noah if i ever blamed him for something.”

james looked away, frustrated and biting back some remarks. “that’s different.” he muttered. 

i crossed my arms over my chest. “how? how is it different?” i asked. “is it because spencer and i aren’t the same gender? is that why?” 

james shook his head. “no, it’s not.” 

“oh, i think it is.” i scoffed, looking away at the floor. i kicked my toes into the carpet. 

the room got silent, and heavy with angst. 

“i’m sorry.” i apologized. “i didn’t mean to… make this into an argument, i just wish you’d accept that spence is my friend.” 

james sighed and walked forward, gently putting his arms around me when i was in reach. he put his chin on my shoulder and i did the same. “i’m sorry too. and i’m working on it.” 

i nodded slightly. “i know… but it’s been three years that you’ve been working on it.” my arms didn’t circle around his back in return. 

“stuff takes time… you know that.” james pulled away, hands on my waist as he looked at me. i nodded. “do you want me to order take out?” 

i nodded my head. “we already ate but sure.” james smiled and kissed me once. i didn’t close my eyes. 

“i’ll go order. you can change into something else.” he smiled and left the room. 

i sighed once he was gone, almost deflating. as i changed i glanced at my phone, itching to call someone.

“hey, mom.” i gave in and called my mom. 

she was delighted to hear from me, answering the call with a happy, “hey! how are you and james?” i sighed and rubbed my eyes. “did something happen?”

“yeah… well… i don’t know.” i replied. “we got into an argument.”

“about what?” 

“… spencer.” i uttered my coworkers name quietly. 

my mom sighed on the other end. “how’d it start?”

i went off in a rant when she asked, telling her about the entire argument. 

“… wow…” that was all my mom said after i’d calmed down. she paused. “well… what do you think of the whole conversation?”

i shrugged with an exhausted sigh. “i don’t know, mom. he just…” i put my head in one hand. “he doesn’t get it. spencer is my best friend and yes, friends are close, no that doesn’t mean we’re into each other. i don’t know why he gets mad at me for it.” i picked at my nails as spencer popped into my head.

“maybe he’s jealous.” my mom suggested it but she sounded very sure. “you do see spencer everyday and rarely ever see james.” 

“he’s not jealous.” i scoffed. “he knows spence isn’t a threat to our relationship. i… i love james.” i felt like i was convincing myself.

my mom hummed to herself. “you sounded hesitant.” 

i groaned. she can see right through me. “i have to go. thank you for talking with me.” i told her.

“of course. i love you.”

“i love you, mom.” i hung up and squeezed my phone in my hand. “you’re okay.” i told myself before walked into the living room where james was seated on the couch. 

he was working on his computer and didn’t look at me when i sat beside him. my phone was set on my coffee table.

“what’re you working on?” i wondered. my cheek rested on his shoulder. 

“just something i forgot to get done earlier.” he was vague but kissed the top of my head with a quick turn of his. “food will be here soon.” 

i nodded and closed my eyes only for a few minutes. 

my phone started to ring from where it was on the table and james grabbed it, answering the call without even reading the callers name. “this is james.” he said. “she’s right next to me, why do you need to talk to her?” 

i sat up from where i was rested against james as i listened to him speak with the caller. he sounded upset about who was calling. 

his eyes drifted to me. “mhm… okay, yeah, i’ll tell her. bye.” he hung up and set my phone on the coffee table harshly. “it was spencer. he said you guys have a case.” he said it without even looking at me. his jaw was clenched. 

my eyes lingered in his profile and with a quick swallow i stood up, phone in my hand as i went back to our room to grab my go bag and change into something else.

when i walked back out and headed to the door james looked at me from over the back of the couch. “how long are you gonna be gone?” he asked. 

i shrugged. “i’ll let you know when i get to the tarmac.” i said it nicely but he only settled into the couch again, his back to me. “i’ll see you when i get back. i love you.” 

he only hummed and i left.

[miss-bushido]

our bodies are oh so close and tight

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember week three, using the prompt 'rough' Title from the song 'Paradise by the Dashboard Light' by Meatloaf

Also inspired by this tweet from @_cydonic: “young, bratty Steve who always calls for his father's car when he's working so that Mr Harrington's long-time, trusted driver Eddie can fuck him nasty in the back of the rolls 🥰”

Rating: E

“Going somewhere, Steven?” his Mother asks as he walks past her in the living room, adjusting the sleeves of his navy blue blazer. She doesn’t look up from her latest bodice-ripper romance book, so he knows he can be vague in his response.

“Yes, Mother. Just out to meet the guys.”

“Mmm, make sure you drive safely.” He can see her interest in the conversation is waning as her eyes keep moving over the words on the page. She even reaches for her glass of Chablis. It must be a very interesting passage.

“Eddie will make sure that I get there in one piece,” Steve answers. There is no response to that. His Mother sips her wine, and is now fully engrossed again in her story.

It’s just as well. He doesn’t think she’ll even wait up for him. She never does.

And he doesn’t know what time he’ll come back home. Not that the Harrington’s ever cared when their son came home. He tested it once: stayed out for three days, sleeping in a different girl’s bed every night. When he finally came home, they barely registered it.

This kind of parental neglect has been going on since Steve can remember. Their wealth let them spoil him with all the toys, experiences, cars and vacations a young man could want. There were a myriad of tutors, nannies, personal assistants as well. Their boy would never want for anything.

Except for affection and love from his parents. The Harrington’s did not give this to their only child readily, and on some level they must have felt guilty over it, because they let him do whatever he wanted. Steve was spoiled and willful and bratty, and no one was around to check him on this attitude.

Until the Harrington’s hired their chauffeur, that was.

Eddie Munson was like nothing and no one Steve had ever encountered before. He was in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. He had an air of something about him: a hint of danger that only Steve picked up on.

He also didn’t take any shit from The Brat, as he had christened Steve.

The first time he’d tested Eddie was about six months after he’d been hired, almost three months ago now. He’d walked over to the garage where the Harrington’s cars were kept, just as Eddie was finishing wiping down the interior of the Rolls, his tongue poking out in concentration as he moved the damp rag over the steering wheel.

“I want you to drive me somewhere,” Steve said by way of greeting, brushing a piece of imaginary lint off of his blazer.

Eddie moved out of the driver’s seat, rag in hand. His hair, usually kept hidden by his chauffeur’s cap, was loose and long, brushing the tops of his shoulders. The white tank top he wore showed all the tattoos he’d kept hidden under his chauffeur’s jacket, along with the strong arms he had. “I just finished detailing the car, so it’ll have to wait-”

Steve sighed heavily, as if this was the most inconvenient thing in the world. “I don’t care. I want you to drive me-”

“No,” Eddie said.

“No?” Steve repeated, hazel eyes wide. No one had ever told him ‘No’ before. “Who do you think-”

“I don’t know who you think you are,” Eddie cut him off, voice even with a hint of anger, “but I’m not the one.”

“I’m your boss’s son, is who I am,” Steve answered, eyebrows furrowed as he came closer to Eddie.

“You’re a brat, is what you are,” Eddie retorted.

Steve blinked dumbly, not sure what to do. This conversation was not going how he’d expected it to go. “What did you say?” he asked, moving so he was in Eddie’s personal space.

Eddie stayed where he was, which was also unexpected. So the two were almost chest to chest. “I said that you’re a brat.” He leaned in as he spoke. “Just because I drive you and your family around doesn’t mean you get to treat me like shit.”

Steve blinked again, but this time at the closeness of their faces. He could see a spray of freckles across Eddie’s cheeks, how pink his lips were, the hint of red in his cheeks from his anger. It made something stir in his gut, an unexpected feeling of arousal.

It wasn’t that Eddie was unattractive: he was actually pretty gorgeous to Steve’s mind. It wasn’t even that he was a guy: Steve had experimented with a few guys in the past. He just hadn’t ever expected to be attracted to someone who would speak to him like this. Like he wasn’t important. Like he wasn’t the spoiled and bratty son of the richest man in town.

“Get away,” Steve managed, pressing his hands on Eddie’s chest to shove him back. He managed to move the chauffeur about an inch before Eddie recovered and grabbed both of Steve’s wrists in his strong hands and pivoted so that he shoved Steve’s body up against the car. Eddie’s left thigh was between Steve’s legs, unaware that he was pressing against Steve’s crotch.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Eddie growled, tightening his grip on Steve’s right wrist. “Do you understand me, brat?”

Steve breathed heavily but didn’t answer. No one had ever been this rough with him before. And he found he kind of liked it. In response to Steve’s lack of one, Eddie pushed his body against Steve’s. The motion of him doing that produced delicious friction of Eddie’s thigh against his crotch that made Steve moan, closing his eyes at the feeling.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised at this development. “You like that, huh, brat?” He asked. When Steve didn’t immediately respond, Eddie moved his thigh again, feeling Steve’s erection clearly now. “You like it when someone corrects your behavior?” He was whispering in Steve’s ear now, his whole body pressed against him.

“Maybe…” Steve managed, his voice already sounding wrecked. He turned to look at Eddie, and felt a shiver run through him at the predatory look the chauffeur was giving him. “Maybe I do.”

“You want me to correct your behavior, huh?” Eddie asked. “Put my hands on you? Punish you?”

“Fuck,” Steve breathed, biting his lip at the imagery.

“First things first,” Eddie said, his left hand moving off of Steve’s right wrist, sliding down Steve’s body before he cupped Steve’s erection. He squeezed lightly, making Steve moan filthily, the sound echoing in the garage. “You don’t get to shove me around. Only I get to do that to you.”

“Yes,” Steve breathed, hips moving against Eddie’s hand. “Yes, God, I want that so much.”

“Good boy,” Eddie said, continuing to palm Steve through his pants. “Second thing: if you piss me off, if you keep acting bratty, I’m going to take it out of your ass.” As if to prove his point, Eddie moved them away from the car so he could give Steve a hard slap on the ass.

“Oh my God,” Steve shouted, his cock kicking in his pants. He’d never been spanked before, and didn’t know if it was because it was new or because it was Eddie doing it, or both, but he felt like he could come in his pants from just that by itself.

Eddie bit his lip at the display before him. He had his boss’s son in the palm of his hand, quite literally. He didn’t know Steve had it in him to be this pliable, this slutty. He found he really liked the power he had over him. “Third thing,” he said, his right hand moving in circles over Steve’s cheeks. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you from now on. I’m the only one you’ll spread for. My pretty little whore.” He punctuated this by giving Steve’s earlobe a bite at the same time as he slipped his hand inside Steve’s pants, stroking his thick cock quickly. “Say it,” Eddie demanded, spanking Steve again as he stroked him.

“Only you,” Steve panted, head tilted forward, his right hand gripping the driver’s side mirror. He shoved his pants down with his left hand, his cock and Eddie’s hand wrapped around it springing free. The slick sounds of his precum sliding up and down his cock could be heard. “Only you get to fuck me,” he continued. “Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”

“I can see,” Eddie breathed. He pushed his own pants down so his erection could be taken care of too. He wrapped his right hand around his cock and began stroking himself, getting off on getting Steve off. “Next time, I’m going to fuck you in the backseat, and you better not get cum all over the leather, or I’ll have to punish you.”

“Eddie!” Steve shouted as he came hard, gripping the mirror tightly as he bent forward. His cum dribbled over Eddie’s hands, some of it dripping onto the garage floor.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” Eddie groaned, forcing himself to stop stroking himself. He brought his hand up and licked all of Steve’s release into his mouth.

“I want more,” Steve pleaded. He looked up at Eddie, lust and longing written all over his face. “I want to be in the backseat with you now.”

Eddie pulled Steve in for a kiss, his tongue sliding into Steve’s hot mouth. “You ever been fucked before, brat?”

“Once,” Steve breathed, gripping Eddie’s tank top as they kissed. “I think you’ll be better at it, though.”

Eddie smirked. “Damn right.” He slapped Steve’s bare ass again before he said, “Get in the backseat and bend over.”

Steve kissed his once more before he complied, opening the back door and sliding in so he was facing the passenger side door. He grabbed the edge of the leather seat, and arched his back, waiting for Eddie.

Eddie slid in after Steve, closing the door behind him. “Fuck, your ass looks so good.” He ran a hand over his cheeks, pleased to note the pink spots where he’d spanked Steve. “I have to have a taste.”

Steve cried out, gripping hard to the seat as Eddie spread his cheeks and began tonguing his asshole. No one had ever done this to him, and it was a revelation in pleasure. He felt the wetness of Eddie’s spit, his tongue working inside Steve, punching in and out of him. “Eddie!” he moaned. “God, fuck, it feels so good!”

“This is just the warm up,” Eddie murmured, almost losing himself in eating Steve out. “You taste so fucking delicious. Some day I’m going to eat you out all night.” He felt Steve’s hole clench around his tongue at this. “Sounds like you want that too, huh?”

“Want that, want you, want all of you. God, please, Eddie. Please fuck me!”

Eddie grinned, giving Steve one final lick before he straightened up. “Since you asked so nicely…” he murmured. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the little tub of Vaseline he kept there. It helped keep his hands smooth and soft after he worked on the car. Eddie uncapped it and scooped out a generous amount on his right pointer and middle fingers.

“This’ll be cold,” he warned Steve as he rubbed the lubricant over his hole. He slid both fingers inside Steve slowly, adding lubricant and getting him adjusted quicker. He heard the little hiss of pain Steve made and removed his fingers as quickly as he could. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you want me to stop?”

“If you stop, I’ll shove you again,” was the answer. Steve turned his head from where it was currently pressed against the seat, giving Eddie a knowing grin.

Eddie grinned back, returning to the task at hand of getting Steve’s hole nice and lubed and stretched for him. “There’s that brattiness we talked about,” he said, adding more Vaseline to his fingers as he slipped a third one inside of Steve. He slowly fucked Steve on his fingers, feeling him clench each time. “Someone should fuck it out if you.”

“Is that gonna be you?” Steve asked, practically drooling all over the leather.

“Does my little brat want that? Maybe I want to hear you beg a little first,” Eddie said, pulling his fingers out. He rubbed some Vaseline along his cock, which was red and aching from being ignored for so long. “And loudly. I want to make sure I hear you.”

“Please fuck me, Eddie,” Steve begged, the desperation in his voice taking on a fever pitch. Part of him knew that begging was part of the roleplay they’d stumbled onto, but he also was desperate to feel the other man inside him. “Please, please, pleas- oh fuck, yes!”

On the last ‘please’, Eddie began to push inside Steve, groaning loudly at how tight and hot he was. He slid in slowly and then slid back slowly, almost pulling out. “Is it good? Is it okay?” he asked, his own voice ragged, his hands clutching desperately at Steve’s hips.

“Don’t stop!” Steve begged, pushing back.

It was all Eddie needed. He thrust back inside of Steve, setting a rough rhythm as he fucked him. “You’re so tight,” he breathed. “Such a tight little whore. Can’t get enough of me, can you?” He heard Steve gasp, felt him clench around him. “Say it,” he ordered, delivering a slap to Steve’s ass again.

“I can’t get enough!” Steve yelled, a desperation in his voice. He was leaking precum everywhere all over the seat. Eddie’s words about punishing him if he got cum all over the backseat reverberating through his head. “I want all of you. Only you, please. Please Eddie!” He didn’t know what he was begging for at this point, but that didn’t matter as long as Eddie didn’t stop fucking him.

Eddie felt a shudder run through him, his hips snapping hard against Steve’s as he kept fucking him. “I’m gonna cum in your tight hole,” he panted. “I’m gonna fill you up, make you mine.” He reached between Steve’s legs and began stroking his hard cock, trying to match the rhythm of each stroke to each thrust. “I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

“Only want your cock, your hands, your mouth, oh fuck, Eddie! Eddie, I’m-!” Steve’s words cut off as he came hard while Eddie stroked him, thick ropes of cum spurting out of him.

Eddie gripped Steve’s hip tight with his other hand, the rhythm he’d built up beginning to falter. “Take all of it,” he groaned as he went over the edge, coming so hard inside Steve that he saw white. His whole body shuddered at his release. “God, Steve,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“So are you,” Steve panted, trying to catch his breath. He liked the way his name sounded in Eddie’s mouth. “I want some more.”

Eddie groaned as he pulled out, licking his lips at the sight of his cum leaking out of Steve. “You’ll get some more, brat.” He pinched Steve’s cheek, grinning at the outraged yelp he gave. “First, I gotta clean the car up before this becomes an issue.”

Steve pushed himself up onto his knees, a dull ache in his backside. “So much for the detailing. I got cum all over…” he trailed off as he felt Eddie’s arm wrap around his waist.

“It lets me know I did a good job,” Eddie whispered in his ear, giving his earlobe a light bite. “And I lied: I hadn’t finished detailing the car.”

Steve turned his head to look at Eddie. “Why’d you lie?”

“Because you were being bratty like usual,” Eddie answered. “Are you mad that I lied?”

“No,” Steve said, fully turning to kiss Eddie on the mouth. “Especially not after this.” He deepened the kiss, placing his right hand on Eddie's face.

Eddie broke the kiss to ask, “Did you actually want me to drive you anywhere?”

“I did, but I think I can have a better evening if I stay here with you,” Steve said, giving Eddie’s lower lip a small bite.

“Brat,” Eddie replied, spanking Steve on the ass again, a grin on his face. “Go upstairs and get washed up. Once I clean the car, I’ll be up.”

“But don’t you want to shower with me?” Steve whined, kissing Eddie on the neck, the jaw, everywhere but his mouth. He gasped when Eddie gripped his hair and tilted his head back.

“Do what I say,” Eddie growled, licking a line up Steve’s neck. “I haven’t finished punishing you yet.”

Steve groaned with longing. “Okay,” he breathed, following Eddie out of the car after they both pulled their pants back up.

He was about to go upstairs when Eddie grabbed him by the blazer and pulled him in for a blistering kiss. His hands roamed everywhere on Steve, and when he pulled back, nuzzling their noses together, he started to say, “If it’s too weird or too much…”

“I guess I’ll wait to shower with you after all,” Steve quipped as he pulled out of Eddie’s grasp, a big grin on his face. As he walked upstairs to Eddie’s apartment he heard behind him: “That ass better be on display when I come up there.”

“Why don’t you make me?” Steve called back as he hurried up the stairs, already beginning to shed his clothes.

-

Now back in the present, Steve waits outside at the edge of the walkway. Soon enough, he sees a pair of headlights coming down the driveway, circling and pulling to a stop right in front of him.

Eddie, his Eddie, steps out from the driver’s seat and walks around to the other side, opening the right back passenger door for Steve. “Your chariot, my liege,” he jokes.

“Cute,” Steve replies, running his fingers across the waistband of Eddie’s pants. He is rewarded when Eddie bites his lip, trying to keep his composure. Steve slips his hand further down to palm him over his pants.

Eddie gasps loudly, glaring at Steve as he slides coolly into the car. “Brat,” he hisses. It is said with all the love and affection Steve has always craved.

And it solidifies his decision to tell Eddie he loves him tonight.

After a few spankings, of course.

[junedenim]

2011

beneath the boardwalk, part 8 (series masterlist)

love is a laserquest

warnings: fluff, angst, fluff, angst

word count: 11.8k

I got a job at the New Yorker. Condé Nast moved me over as a staff writer. I'm not sure if it was because they knew my desire for the job, Fennel did some talking, I charmed David Remnick, or my piece in the Paris Review. I've never found out. Either way, it made an optimistic start to the year.

Alex took me out to dinner when we found out. It was a far more fancy dinner than our usual ones. He wore a suit because it was that kind of restaurant and I was the kind of girl who liked a man in a suit. I wore a navy-coloured dress with a cream-coloured cardigan. 

We went to Le Bernardin where I never figured out how Alex managed to get a reservation so last minute. Alex and I began to talk about things we had never talked about before. Often when living with Alex in those years, we had the same conversations over and over again. I was never bored by them but I never learned much about the history of Alex and I knew he knew little of me other than context clues.

He told me of his childhood basketball games and I laughed at tiny Alex trying to shoot 3 meters off the ground. "We were awful," he said, "like really bad. I was okay but only because everyone else was really awful."

I giggled and sipped on my white wine. "I can't picture you sporty. You've always seemed scrawny to me."

"Hey. I work out," he defended.

It made me laugh again. "Maybe now but I've seen pictures of you young. You could have snapped in half."

"Most basketball players aren't buff," he reasoned.

I countered, "Most are over 6 feet tall."

Alex always worried about overstepping. I believe I had previously scarred him with off-the-cuff recountings of my childhood. Alex didn't even know how Tommy died. He was scared to ask and I never wanted to touch the subject. He retreated to the nonsense and we talked about the days when I played football.

"Now, you," he pointed his finger at me, "you are not sporty."

I laughed with my wine. "That's why I only did it for a week."

The days were so short in that January. We had celebrated his birthday in Sheffield. It would be the last time he would stay home for his birthday. The following years got tricky for him to make it home and by the time he could, he had grown up and gone so long without it that the idea of returning home felt childish.

When we returned I started my new job and Al returned to Los Angeles. He asked me about it. He cited that it was a good meeting point for all the guys for making a record. He reasoned that I didn't have to come. He promised that it would be a short amount of time. He swore I wouldn't even notice he was gone. 

Truthfully, I didn't care much. Maybe if he had left for months but he was gone for five weeks. It wasn't much different than touring, in fact, it was easier because he was always in the same place. He asked me if I was okay with it and for that I noticed and appreciated his matured abilities in communication. I preferred not to go with him. I wasn't uprooted from my life and, in New York, I had found an occupation in both labour and leisure. I don't care whether he came or left. That should have shocked me more but it didn't. Life was too quick for me to care.

I acquired a group of friends that felt like my own circle of beatniks and lost generation writers, although that was mostly my fantasization of them. We drank, we smoked, we doped, but nobody shot their wife or was "going mad" from my knowledge. It often felt like elders embarking wisdom onto the youth. That wisdom was usually through buckets of liquor and the faux elegance of smoking a cigarette in between a small dinner and an even tinier dessert. But I liked it a lot.

Before Alex left, the band came to New York and we had a little party with some of their friends. It was a lowkey affair for the most part. We mostly drank and chatted. It didn't feel right to invite any of my friends to this dirty British fun, even if a few Americans slipped by the door. It was the only "party" Alex held in that apartment but it was probably the best we had. It felt nostalgic.

Alex and I sat in front of the couch with his arm around me while Jamie attempted to balance a glass on his head. We were all drunk and with no sober thoughts there wasn't much logic to letting a clumsy guy balance a glass of liquor atop his head.

It crashed to the floor, spreading out across our feet. It should have been tragic and mildly painful as Jamie proceeded to step in a piece and cut his foot, but all of us, even a bleeding Jamie were laughing. 

I tucked my head into Alex's shoulder, struggling to breathe with how hard I was laughing. His arm hugged around me and he was a cushion to fall asleep on. I felt warm from the alcohol but he felt even warmer in that January chill. 

Alex got up to sweep up the mess and I fooled around with Katie, grabbing a tambourine and smacking it against my hand. It was a racket and not very pleasing to the ear but Katie and I were laughing too hard to put any care into it. Both of us were very musically inept.

"I feel like we're in Will's basement," I told them. "Feels just as childish as then."

Jamie laughed. "I guess we haven't grown much." Or maybe it was just the alcohol that brought us back to those states. But, to me, it was the idea that whenever we were with each other like this, we would regress back to the ways we met. The behaviours we exhibited when we first bonded.

"Time goes by, I suppose," I sighed and rested my head on Katie's shoulder. Matt pulled the glass out of Jamie's foot, Alex got him a bandage, and Nick poured him another glass.

I don't know much of what went down in LA with Alex. He wasn't one to open up without prompting and I wasn't one to talk about anyone but myself in those days. He gave me pieces but I imagined he was in the studio most of the time, which wasn't wrong.

He returned halfway through February and things resumed as they were. I went to work. He stayed home. We often went out for dinner with those from my circle. Alex had befriended some of them and it wasn't like he talked much during dinner anyway.

At the tail-end of February, there was a dinner somewhere on the Upper West Side. I can't place where but I had red wine and chicken, I remember that much. Neither the food nor the restaurant is very important here, but Alex got white wine and steak. I don't think he liked either.

The group would fluctuate between obsessing over Alex and ignoring him. He didn't like the former, he appreciated the latter. They were yapping on about something when I turned to Alex, whispering, "Isn't this right old fun?"

He pursed his lips and nodded. 

I rolled my eyes and ignored him for the rest of dinner.

When we finished dinner, someone suggested continuing the night with drinks. Alex tugged on my coat like he was a little child who stood nothing above three feet tall. I looked over at him and he just stared at me. I frowned then he frowned. I wasn't sure what we were saying to one another. I wasn't sure if we were joking around or fighting. We passed on drinks and walked in the opposite direction.

"You don't want to have fun," I whined, tugging on his arm. He was stiff-figured with his hands in his pockets. He had all the signs of a man but looked to be about 17 and shy. "You don't want to drink, you don't want to talk. They think you're sullen."

Alex chuckled. "Aren't I?"

I tucked my arms away from him and moved over on the street, furthering the gap between our brushing bodies. "You like people to think that but it comes off as rude."

He shrugged. "Sorry." Not apologetically, just uncaring.

We stopped at a light. I lit a cigarette and he tapped his shoe on the cement. "What's got you down, blue boy?" I laughed in the moment thinking of the closeness in pronunciation to blue balls.

Something cracked within him, realigning the figure of him. He stood taller, dropped his hands out of his pockets, and slung an arm around me. "Just missed you." His hand reached out and pushed the strands back. 

My face felt cluttered and my cigarette-yielding hand felt full. I took it up to my lips, edged it right on the bottom of it. "If you missed me so much, why don't you kiss me?" I trapped the cigarette and blew smoke into his face.

He laughed at me, let go, and moved across the street. I was stuck on the sidewalk, left to chase after him. He was still laughing when I caught up to him. "What? What?" I never found out what he was laughing at, he just kissed me, all bright and smiling, teeth colliding. 

We went home and I undressed and showered. Alex did something, I'm not sure, but when I left the bathroom, he was in bed reading. I sought refuge in the covers, the chill of the air burning my skin. I scooted closer to him, tightened a grasp on his arm, and leaned my head on him. I was in perfect sight of the book but didn't bother to read it, instead tapping on his upper arm.

"Yes?" He didn't look up from the page but I spotted the cheeky grin spread on his lips. 

My finger stroked the corner of it. "Nothing."

He chuckled. "You want something."

I leaned back onto the headboard. "Why do you always think that? Maybe I just want to look at you."

He laughed again. "Well, you answered your question there."

I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I know." His eyes stayed on his book, flipping a page, somehow reading through all my talking.

I shelved my head on his shoulder. "Are you bored?" 

His eyes escaped the page momentarily before returning. "No. I'm reading."

"Okay." I left it at that but I worried that we were leaving one another behind. It might have been a typical thing for other couples but it was weird to have intimate separation from one another. I mean, sure there was having sex but it wasn't often that Alex and I went to bed in these different junctions. He felt stiff and awkward as of late and not just with other people. He was reading a book in bed.

I slumped further into bed. "What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"I don't know." He waited, thought some, and asked, "What are you doing?"

"I don't know," I replied. I waited. "Should call Stacey." I waited and felt the sinking in my stomach as we seemed to stay still. "I have the weirdest feeling."

"Your dad's fine." The book stayed open and his eyes followed the sentences to an impeccable degree. It was impressive and confusing, perplexing, but no longer infuriating. It was so strange.

I played with my fingers, tapping them on my stomach, picking at my shirt, and debating what to say and whether to say it. But I vowed to myself to talk to Alex and so I did. "I miss you. I miss you and you're right here."

I had no clue what he would say. I thought I might have been left with silence or a kiss or a question, some form of confusion. But he never shifted, didn't spare me a glance as I stared up at him so attentively as he casually said, "You're tired."

"Okay," I decided. I flicked out my light (he left his on, a new thing) and went to bed. I don't know when he went to bed or if he ever did.

*

One Sunday, Alex and I sat in Washington Square Park. It was just starting to get warm and bearable to sit outside for prolonged periods of time. The center fountain still wasn't running water so people were skating on it. There was loud music blaring from somewhere but I never found the source. People were selling things: clothes, music, art, Bibles. I was sipping on a strawberry banana smoothie and Alex was eating some kind of disgusting sandwich that was practically spilling over with its contents.

I could feel the chill of the bench through my jeans, but it was comforting rather than chattering. Alex looked fluffy in a leather jacket. It was like a Yorkshire Terrier trying to be an American Bully. 

I reached out and brushed my hands through the front of his mop top, trying to give sun to the part of his face that hid away from it. My hand crawled to the other side of him, putting my arm around his shoulders.

"Should I get my hair cut?" I was merely focusing on myself in this moment, not hinting toward anything. It was long, not yet too long, and my fringe had fully grown out sometime around the end of January.

Alex turned to me, getting a good look at me as if he were trying to determine his decision. He hummed in deep thought over this. "Maybe a trim."

I giggled. "You're just trying to agree with me."

He chewed through his sandwich. "No, I'm just being honest."

I hummed, uncertain of this. "You like my hair long."

He felt like I was trying to play games with him. "You're very beautiful, Janie."

I brushed it off. "You're just saying that."

"Jane." He turned to me with a very serious look on his face like he was about to break some bad news to me. It unnerved me to be stared at him in this way. "You say 'thank you' when someone gives you a compliment."

I couldn't help but give a little laugh. "You've been waiting to use that for years, have you?"

Alex smiled, very proud of himself and went to finish off his sandwich. "I have many tricks up my sleeve."

I would have kissed him if he didn't have sandwich residue all over his face. Instead, I reached for a napkin and wiped it off. "You're very beautiful too, Alex." Because I never said it enough. He had become more sure of himself through the years from getting older and growing into the person he wanted to be more but we all have that little voice gnawing away at us. Alex always fought off that voice for me and I never felt I put as sufficient of an effort in and I wanted to now. 

He looked over at me, still wiping his hands as his cheeks flushed. It was quite a sight for a 25-year-old man who had a habit of being evasive to his emotions. To be overcome by something I had said, it made me blush too. "Say 'thank you' now, Alex."

He moved closer to me, almost touching. "Thank you, Janie." Then, lip to lip.

He pulled back and threw out his trash. When he came back, I let him have a sip of my smoothie and put his hand on my thigh. "What should we do now?" Alex asked.

"I don't know." We sat and people watched for a while. We gossiped about the passersby and made up stories about their lives. They started out small with the suspicion that an elegant-dressed woman had lost her way and wound up in the park and ended with us pretending all the skaters were aliens.

Then, we went record shopping. Music history was close by. Electric Lady Studios is a block over and The Bitter End is around the corner. We went into the basement of Generation Records and searched through the stack of $1 records and giant posters. We walked away empty-handed beside a David Bowie sticker I bought for Alex. He stuck it to the front of his notebook.

*

I woke up late one morning. It must have been a Saturday. I was definitely hungover. I remember the blur of trying to get to bed the night before. I ended up landing in bed and Alex had to take me apart piece by piece and pull sleep clothes over me. I was very quiet, if not already asleep.

Alex was out of bed sitting on the couch when I crawled out of our bedroom. It was silence other than the padding of my feet as I poured myself a glass of water. I sat at our tiny kitchen table, taking small sips from the ice cold glass. Alex moved over into the kitchen and whispered the question of if I wanted anything to eat. I wanted an apple so he cut it up into little slices for me.

I took a bite of one before deciding it hurt my jaw too much to do. I pulled out a cigarette to ease the pain.

Alex laughed at my display: smudged makeup, rough hair, and a cigarette. To me, it was glamourous. Writing it still kind of feels that way but Alex was probably right that it was pretty ugly and pretty funny. "I think you need a shower, Janie, not a cigarette."

"You smoke," I stated matter of factly. As if, his smoking outdoors was comparable to that sight. I was breaking my own rule of smoking indoors, not that Al would reprimand me for that.

"How was last night?" He asked. "If you can recall it."

I squinted. "Don't mock me."

"I'm not," he insisted.

I sighed and sipped my water. "Fine. We went to a nice club and had a nice dance. What did you do?"

He shrugged. He seemed so casual but he was staring so intensely at me as if to X-ray me. "Hung around here. Called me mum."

"You should've come out with us."

"Nah. I'm not much for clubbing these days."

I hummed and frowned. "Not even for me?"

He rolled his eyes. It wasn't playful, it was rejecting. I enforced many notions that Alex didn't want to hang out with me. At least, that was my belief in those days. It wasn't fair to him to force him to go to those places or place blame when he didn't. I think I even knew that then. Besides, we were split branches. Neither of us wanted to acknowledge we were growing the other way.

*

The Paris Review's Spring Revel was my first personal award show. I was no longer the plus one—Alex made a very good plus one. I was going to accept the Plimpton Prize, which I believe was the first award I had ever won in my life, minus those participation trophies. 

Alex and I had already done our celebrating when I got the phone call. We jumped on the bed, we went out for dinner, we had sex—the trifecta. At the Spring Revel, I wanted to look sophisticated in the literary sense, whatever that means, but Fennel knew exactly what I meant. I wore a blue boatneck midi dress by Ralph Lauren, which I suppose screams American glamour. I was fancy proper without being frumpy or slutty. I quite liked it and Alex quite liked it. He just wore a suit, very easy for him.

I'm not sure why but I was most excited for the meal. Maybe because I didn't want to acknowledge people would actually be paying attention to me or maybe because, by the time the day came, I was really hungry. So, I ate my dinner, some meat and salad, and drank a glass of champagne. 

I had my photo taken with Robert Redford and James Lipton and then hid in the bathroom for 20 minutes after. Alex was my emotional support animal. I dragged him with me whenever I went to talk to someone. It was always an easy out for when the conversation lulled to say, "This is my boyfriend, Alex. He's in the Arctic Monkeys." Most people didn't know what that was and asked. The others were in wonder by it. He was a great deflection tool, something he usually hated, but I knew that he knew that I needed it by the way he squeezed my hand whenever I did it.

"What shall I do with the $10,000? What did you do with your Mercury Prize money?" I asked Alex as the night began to wind down. We stood, waiting for a cab and the last of that winter wind threatened the spring night.

The cab approached and Alex opened the door for me. It was a very special night. "Well, I had to split mine with three other people. I think I just put it in my bank account."

I scoffed, "Lame." He chuckled as he hopped into the car. "I feel like I should do something special with mine."

"What's something you really want?"

I looked down at my purse. "I don't know. I can't think of anything I would buy. Maybe clothes."

"Maybe we should take a trip," he suggested. He was risqué and tempting with just the raise of his brow. He gave so much away with his tone. His hand sculpted its way across my face and brushed forgotten strands behind my ear.

"We? Who said anything about sharing the money with you?" I looked over at him and knew I would spend all the money on him if he'd let me, which, of course, he never would. But I understood the desire to care for a person, to look after them for all the days to come. Suddenly, I liked the idea of putting the money away. Saving it for some lovely toy he'd like to play with. Or maybe just a rainy day. One of his, not mine.

He placed his hand on my knee and we might have been stopped at a red light or stuck in traffic but I couldn't tell. He leaned close to my ear, whispering delicately for just me and the wind to hear, "You earned it."

*

By the end of April showers, I had been washed out. Things felt sloppier in nature by that time. The streets always seemed to be glazed with a pile of rain and the wind always seemed to have me rushing out the door.

Alex was soaking up the last few moments of relaxation before the tour kicked off in about two weeks. I wasn't there for most of that. I was drawn in by work, even when I didn't have much work to do. Every outing had something to do with a co-worker or a co-worker who knew this person who was going to that person's party. I loved it. It felt like the definition of being young and fabulous. A hallmark for New York and a girl who dreamed of a Sex & the City lifestyle.

Alex didn't like those kinds of things. He was a quiet, misshapen boy, who much rather enjoyed the quiet joys of the bar down the street or smoking with one of our neighbors on the roof. I liked those things too but they felt slow and downy by comparison. 

Often, I would come home and find Alex on the roof. He liked the feeling of wind and it was an easy way to smoke outdoors without having to put his jeans on. He'd bring his notebook up with him but I often found it closed. He took more to reading around that time. It was an easy way to turn his brain off when he was so alone. I left him to think a lot.

I came home from work and didn't bother with going into our apartment. I trod up the stairs to the roof. His back was to me and I slid my hands down the front of him and said a quiet, "Hi."

He smiled and closed his book, dropping it down by his notebook, his pack of cigarettes, and his lighter. I sat beside him on the wicker bench that if you sat too far back on the strands in it would break. I stole from his pack and relaxed as stiff as possible. "What have you gotten up to?" I asked.

Alex shrugged, naturally complacent, but possessing an uncaringly cool front to him. I could always tell why people were drawn to him. Sometimes, it pissed me off how much he shrugged away all this attention people begged upon him, but it had always been his way and I loved that about him. He never deemed to change for anybody. He was firm in who he was, even if he hadn't yet figured out who he was. All the boys had been. Maybe because life had given them more freedom. They didn't have to be pretty and cool and mysterious and talented, yet they were. To me, it's obvious that you don't try to be those things because it negates the whole purpose but then unknowingly I wanted to be so much like him that it repelled people, the kind of people that really cared. Those who did, cracked through all that. They didn't see me as a cool girl in a white silk maxi skirt smoking on the roof with her quiet boyfriend. To them, I was Jane. To the closest, the one, I was Janie. And maybe that's the only way I'll ever be able to express how dearly I love Alex. Because things just made sense around him. It was as simple as that.

And when I strayed too far away, that is when I became a cool girl in a white silk maxi skirt smoking on the roof. But he shrugged and smiled and said he had spent the day reading and had gone out for lunch with one of his friends, the kind he knew really well and I knew in passing so the name isn't of much relevance. He had a nice time but was glad I was home now. That we were home together.

"Calvin is hosting a little get-together tonight and I said we'd go." It was simple, said over a puff of smoke, and a gaze at the clear blue sky.

But his brows furrowed and his cigarette grew ashy and he stared right at me though it took me too long to notice. "Really?"

I had expected this, his practice of reluctance. But I gushed and insisted, "It'll be plenty fun. Calvin always has nice parties and you've never been to his place. It's stunning. I'd use the $10,000 to save for a place like his. I'm sure I'm a couple of million off but it could be achieved in time with both our salaries. Maybe my parents would even—"

"Jane." He had been saying it the whole time but I was a buzzing alarm that refused to be put on snooze. He was tense and leaned back into his chair when I stopped talking. He shut his eyes like he was in the midst of a migraine. "God, do you hear yourself talk sometimes?"

Nothing mattered then. I hated myself. If he didn't like me, if he didn't want to hear me, then what was the point? However jolted I was, I was also stubborn. "Excuse me?"

"You just go on and on sometimes."

"Yes, Alex. I talk. It's what normal human beings do."

He shook his head and scuffed out his cigarette. His face was all wrinkled up in distress. "Jane, it's not a conversation if you're just rambling on about nothing."

"It's not nothing." It was my friend and the idea of a future. It felt so harmless and yet he was offended over it. "Thought you would want to hear about my day."

He crossed his arms and thought of something wise to say. I saw his face, full of that perturbed quality and a studious annoyance. I would have none of it. I stood up and walked to the roof's door. "Jane," he called after. I'm not sure what for. Apologize, lecture me, stare at me in disappointment.

"You're always doing this! You don't get to make me feel bad!" I yelled at him and stomped down to our apartment. I locked the door, even though I knew he was right behind me, I just wanted to piss him off. I stayed in front of the door so when he would open it, he'd be face-to-face with me.

And he was, but he walked past me. He knew my ploys too well. He was calm, swaying with himself and I was itching to explode. "I don't want to go to Calvin's place," he said. He sat down on the couch. Calm, cool, and collected.

"But I want you too."

"Jane, I've been to twenty of these parties you want me to go to. I want to relax on a Wednesday night with me girlfriend. Not fifty other people."

"You relax every day of the week. Let's go have fun."

"Jane!" He was yelling in an attempt to get through to me. "I don't find that fun. I don't find you coming home hammered fun. I don't find these people to be well-meaning and fun."

"You like Kaka and Fennel!"

"You mean going to dinner with them? Yes, I like going to places where I can talk to you without thinking you're going to throw up on me in the next sentence."

"Quit being so dramatic. Who are you even? That's how we met. Talking at places like this. Sharing a smoke after having too much to drink."

"Jane, I'm not 18 anymore. I have a different life now. I'm leaving in 2 weeks and you want to spend that time like that."

It felt wrong. I felt bad. I felt he had a point. But it was too late for all of that. This was an argument and it would only end when I got my way. "I like doing that! It's how I let loose after a long day of work."

"You don't have to be drunk to let loose."

All I could hear was him calling me my mother. "It's not being drunk. It's about being with my friends. It's about bitching about work."

"I don't want to hang around your friends. I want to hang around you. Why is that so hard for you? Do you not like me anymore?" He said it so seriously, it was terrifying.

My jaw fell open and it was like my life fell open. I was ready for the floor to let go and take me down with it. "Are you serious?" I grabbed my purse. "I might be a bitch or a drunk or whatever image of me you've conjured up in your head but I'm not that. You fucker." I didn't wait around. I stormed out.

I went to Calvin's. I had one shot and cried in the bathroom. Tasha came and held my hand. I was the biggest phony ever. She repeated last year's advice back at me but it felt like stones in my pockets pulling me down to the bottom of the river. I felt useless. My only choice was to sob. I was mourning, I could feel it, but not admit to it.

*

"Alex." I placed a hand on him, unsure if he was awake. 

His head turned slightly upwards and he mumbled, "We'll talk about it in the morning." He turned away, escaping further under the covers, further away from me.

I sat on my side of the bed for a minute, lost on what to do, knowing I would be unable to go to bed. I got up and went to the bathroom, changing out of everything, removing my makeup, and then sitting on the toilet seat. Then, I cried. I'm not sure for how long but there was a crack in me that everything was pouring out of and I couldn't patch it up. So, I let the floodgates go, smushed my hands into my eyes, and shook with sobs.

The bathroom door cracked open and I could picture Alex popping his head in but I refused to look up. I wanted to avoid processing all of this. I wanted to be left alone and I wanted him to comfort me. I wanted everything and nothing and I couldn't get either. "Jane," he peeped.

I shook my head from my position. Words wouldn't allow themselves out. I became non-verbal, trapped by my silent cries.

He sighed. I heard the door open more as he moved further into the bathroom. He closed the door like we were hiding from someone as if it wasn't just the two of us in this apartment. "I don't know what you want me to do, Jane." His back leaned against the door, his hand grasped the doorknob, and his eyes averted my figure as I looked up at him.

Crying seemed to cease and I stilled for a moment to think. "That's the problem. I'm so sick of this need you have to wait for what I want because it used to just be with things I wanted to do, which was fine, but now it's like you don't even know how to act around me unless I tell you how to."

"You yell at me whenever I decide against it. I didn't want to go out tonight."

"But I did and you berated me for that."

"Sometimes it'd be nice to spend time with you without fifty other people around."

"They're my friends. It's the same as us hanging out in Joanie's basement. The only difference is you don't like my friends."

"I don't give a fuck about your friends. I give a fuck about you and this constant need you have to go out and get drunk."

"What? I'm an alcoholic now?"

"Don't do this shite. This putting words in my mouth. I can't handle that."

"It's no different than who I've always been, Alex. The only thing that's changed is the people. You had no issue with this when it was your friends too. You just don't like it when I pay attention to things other than you."

"What like Robert? The guy in Aruba?"

I stopped and squinted. "Why? Why do you feel the need to bring shit like that up?"

"Because it proves my point."

"What? That I'm a slag? You want me to get it tattooed across my forehead?"

"No. It's that you always find other things to want instead of me."

"You were away! I didn't fuck Robert until we had broken up. And we were barely together during the guy in Aruba."

"That's your excuse?"

"That's not my excuse! It's my explanation, which you were fine with 3 years ago."

"Because I wanted you! I wanted to get back together and then you told me that. I'm not...it's fine. I understand. I'm not mad about that."

"Sure seems like it."

"Stop." He was serious and I flushed like my father was scolding me. "It's hard not to feel like you choose things over me."

"Because I have friends? You're the one leaving. You're always the one leaving."

"For my job! You don't think I want to be with you all the time? That I enjoy doing that to you? Even when I'm here, you go off without me."

I crossed my arms. "I'm allowed to have a life outside of you, Alex."

"I know. But it doesn't really seem like you have a life with me in it."

"It's because you do nothing. You sit around here all day and mope when I go out. You don't want anything, you want to sit here and watch Breaking Bad."

"Any time that I want something we have a fight or we break up. I want to go on tour. Break-up. I want to go to LA. Major fight. I want a relationship with you. You run away."

"When did I ever not want a relationship with you?"

"Oh, come on, Jane, I'm well aware that before my little posh comment to you, I called you my girlfriend, and then you didn't talk to me for months."

"That? I was a completely different person then. The fact that you have to go back that far to make your point is ridiculous."

"Then, fine, Jane. Let's leave it at that. I'm wrong. You're right. Nothing will change. That's fine. Okay. I'll bend for you, okay? I'm fine doing that because I want to make you happy. But would you do that for me?"

"I moved to LA for you! I upended my whole life, my career over there, for you! If I told you to quit the band, would you do it?"

"Don't play that stupid game."

"Answer it."

"No. But would you quit your job right now to go on tour with me? No. You didn't give a shit about Simon & Schuster. If you cared so much, you wouldn't have left. It wasn't like I was leaving forever, okay? We both have other priorities other than each other."

"Great! Then, me going out with my friends from work should be no issue."

"Every night of the week?"

"You went out to LA for 5 weeks and don't use the excuse of the studios out there. We live in New York now. You can't really make that excuse."

He shook his head. "I'm not fighting with you. I don't like it. I don't want to do it. I want to go to bed. There."

"So, when you're wrong then it's okay to go to bed."

"No. I'm tired. I don't like doing this. Fine, I shouldn't have left your side, but I don't revolve around you."

"I don't revolve around you."

"No, but I'm not even in your orbit quite frankly. You moved on and I let you. I put things ahead of you. I fucked up. But I don't think you even care about that."

"How do you know?"

"I've known you for eight fucking years. In and out, Jane. I've cried with you, I've fought with you, I've lived with you, and I love you. Is that so hard for you to understand? I know you haven't been shown it very much but this is what it is. And I want you through all of it. That's what I want. But you don't reflect that back."

"I hurt you so much. I get it."

"No, you don't."

"Yes. I do. You can comfort me and tell me you love me but you were hurt by tonight. You've been hurt by me for a while. It takes a lot for you to yell at me. And you've yelled."

"Sorry."

"Don't say sorry. Don't bend for me. I'm tired of beating you down. But I'm not going to change for you. I like my life. Love it. And I've never felt that way before, except there's one thing. I always feel like I'm failing you."

"No, you're not. We both fucked up. It's fine."

"No, it's not. That's what this whole fight has been about and I'm done with you comforting me and I'm tired of fighting. I love you but it just hurts because every move I make, I feel like I'm chipping away at you. I don't want you to dictate the way I act but I don't want to hurt you in the process." I sighed and thought for a minute, wanting to think every turn through. I kept falling down the same hole. "And you'll be gone soon and I think that'll help. Some time separated."

"You want to break up?"

I shook my head. "I don't want that. I'm not going to do that." I took a deep breath. "Maybe while you're on tour we should take a break. You readjust. I readjust. We'll come back and they'll be a whole new person to learn but that love won't go anywhere. I know that. That's never going to go away."

"What if I don't want that?"

"I think we both need it. We've been on top of one another so far this year but never with one another, maybe only briefly. It's been bitter. I don't like us this way."

"I don't either."

"You're never gonna get rid of me, you know that?"

He chuckled wetly. "Yeah."

"You're always going to be my friend. I'd be nothing without that."

"Not true. Goes both ways. You're right."

"Yeah. I know. Can't help it."

"I love you, okay?"

"Yeah. You too."

"Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

"Course not. You're not a pariah. I still like being with you."

"Good."

We went to bed on opposite sides and woke up on opposite sides. It was a weird few days where we co-existed with one another. We got along fine. I was at work and he went off at night. I think he went out drinking with friends but I never asked. We had sex one night. Alex and I were both drunk. Woke up naked with one another. We never talked about it but both understood it wasn't going to change anything. It was nice just to touch one another. 

About a week later, Alex packed up his things, not that there was much there. I would keep the apartment along with the furniture. He took his belongings and moved in with Matt temporarily. The tour started soon after. 

*

In a way, it was like when we broke up back in '06, except we were older and had been through this before. We talked on the phone when he was in London. It was a short call where we checked in on one another. He complained about a flight he took and I told him about something I was writing. He said he'd like to read it but I never sent it. That felt too intimate.

Truthfully, I perceived myself as being fine. I was doing great at work, I was having fun, I had friends, I only cried for one week, and only once to Fennel and Kaka. Truthfully, I was out of it. I was a machine and I betrayed myself by not letting myself feel anything. I had shamed myself for so long for being an emotional person, who sobbed in front of people at the slightest thing, but now I had become nothing. A cog in the machine.

I didn't betray all my old habits. I slept around. Not heavily but enough to get pregnant and not know who the father was. But it all felt understandable under the circumstances.

The week before Alex was due to return to New York for a concert, I wiped myself out. I drank, I smoked, I snorted. None were great combinations and by the end of the week, I burnt myself out. I spontaneously flew to LA and stayed with Opal for a few days. I mostly stayed in her place. I was probably depressed but not clinically. I called Alex and told him I was in LA and he made some joke about turned tables. We laughed. I wished him luck. We said we loved and missed each other and it all felt strangely platonic.

I decided to myself that partying was fine but spending the week going to your Calvin's parties wasn't worth it. I settled for Friday night drinks and dinners with Fennel and Kaka. It didn't always measure out this way but it wasn't a whole week with barely any sleep. My work had suffered for it and I decided I was going to write these experiences down rather than chasing the next high. It also helped that since I gained some favour in the New York literary scene and had re-crafted some of my old work, Jackson had set up several book deal meetings.

A lot of this was me unknowingly changing for Alex. Or maybe just unknowingly recognizing that he did have some points to his argument but that didn't mean he was completely in the right. I just needed to be better for myself.

Mostly, I decided that if I ever felt the need to break these rules I had set myself that would be okay too. For the first time in my life, I was completely on my own. Everyone who had taken care of me throughout my life was at a distance. I had people that supported me but I wanted to do it on my own. It was the first time I saw value in achieving something without having someone applaud for me at the finish line. They would always be there. He would always be there. But I liked the idea of patting myself on the back. At least for now, that would be enough.

*

Suck It and See was a surprise to me. It's strange how much time you spend with a person and how much is left uncovered. I had heard bits and pieces of things but everything was very distant at the time he made this record. It shouldn't have surprised me so much what ended up on the record considering the state of things but it's all retrospective here and things felt different in the moment than they did in writing.

The weirdest thing: I was jealous. I was jealous of my own self. These were words that I presumed to be toward me or some sex doll daydream vixen version of myself and I was jealous of her. I didn't experience these words of passion in the middle of lovemaking. Alex didn't roll over and say I was a thunderstorm (that would have been plenty weird). But I strangely desired that affection. To be told I was rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock and my skirt was a sawn-off shotgun. Maybe I was just getting lonely.

It was different from his other writing. I didn't find myself embedded in it. There was no "505" or "Secret Door" where I could pinpoint moments that he had drawn from, other than "That's Where You're Wrong," which even in itself was muddled (what does it mean for the sky to be a scissor??). 

I found myself questioning if all those times I caught him alone outside with a notebook were hidden clues to this album, especially with "Love is a Laserquest." I always felt he could read me before he even knew me and it had been a while since this quality had taken me aback, but I had all the air knocked out of me. It was depressing how much of a love song it was without seeming as such. But I locked it away in a drawer and decided not to touch it again. I wouldn't discuss it with anyone. I wouldn't make jokes about it to Alex and I wouldn't talk about it in mournful ways with friends. It existed, it was there, and I would leave it there. I would leave everything there.

*

The summer proved to be hot. Then, a heat wave pulled through and made it even more hot. At the end of June, Jackson flew out to New York and stayed with me for a few days while we made moves for the book. While it meant a great deal to be published, I tried not to think about it much. People had books published every day. I was still left with the question of if people were actually going to read it.

Alex was in the rush of festival season and we didn't talk much. He sent me two postcards. One from Paris and the other from Sheffield. I taped them to my wall, next to all my other trinkets from him. The contents of them were minimal. He was having a good time in Paris, Sheffield was all the same, nothing ever changed in Sheffield, but each ended with "Love, Al" and for that, I held onto something, even if it was hard for me to believe we still had much of a chance.

We told everyone, as we told ourselves, that it was just a break. People understood. He'd be away, I was reaching new heights in my career, and it gave us the freedom to sleep around. Many people in New York understood that part. However, Stacey was convinced that we were lying and everything had fallen to shambles and I was on the verge of killing myself. So, she flew to New York.

She was fully grown; an idea that is still so strange to me. She was cooler than I'll ever be with long legs and perfect hair that bounced with every step she took. But she still picked her nose and said friggin' instead of fucking and she could be a total bitch at times. I love her so much.

I often say Stacey factory resets me. I suppose since a childhood home hasn't existed for me since my parents moved and I try to avoid my parents besides the holiday season, Stacey puts things back in perspective. It feels like playing pretend with her. So, we went to the Plaza for lunch and pretended we were the kind of people who lived on Park Avenue and had nannies for our children while we went out day drinking. I used a tenth of my Plimpton Prize money on this lovely day in New York and that felt like a worthy recipient of my prize money.

When Stacey left, Jackson flew back to secure the book deal with Penguin and because I couldn't think of calling it anything else, I finally officially named it LA Times. It was weird to pitch a book that felt so far removed from that time in my life considering how much material I had written since then but perhaps that's why I was able to do it. 

I didn't tell anyone about it, except Jackson, obviously, and Opal. She came to New York and the three of us went out to a series of restaurants and clubs and shared my apartment for nearly the whole month of July because it seemed like a fun thing to do. Opal and I shared my bed and Jackson slept on the couch, which I suddenly found out was a pull-out. Alex must have purchased that one. Then, I felt like I was in Sex & the City. Or maybe Girls. I certainly felt like a Hannah and Opal seemed like a Marnie, or maybe a Jessa, but both in a good way. I hope.

A heat wave passed through at the time that seemed never-ending. My AC was shit so we didn't spend much time in the apartment. We went out for lunch at a place in Brooklyn where the AC had superpowers with how strong it was but the food never got cold. It was magical.

"I think you should call him," Opal said over her salad. The topic of Alex had been a tricky one. Sometimes, Opal and I stayed up nights talking about it, other times I shunned it. "I know he'll be happy."

I wiped my face with my napkin. Jackson sat there awkwardly. "I know he will be. That's not the problem."

"The reason why you're so bent out of shape over it is because you know it'll feel real once you tell him. You want to avoid that for as long as possible." In another life, Opal was a therapist. In this one, she was the type of girl to shove stones up her vagina for healing powers. She claims this very proudly.

"I'll do it in time."

"Do it before the book comes out."

I was never alone much—that was my excuse for not calling. But it played on my mind as to why I avoided it so much. I know a part of me wished to do it in person. To be able to jump on the bed with him and dance around with such excitement that it seemed nothing could ever be bad. I also knew that wouldn't be a reality.

So, that night I went up onto the apartment's roof and smoked one cigarette before calling him. Then, I lit up another one while the phone was ringing. He was somewhere in South Korea. I knew that much.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey. How you doing?" He was drunk. Not far gone, but lost to the sauce.

"I'm okay. How are you?" I debated putting off the news and telling him when he was in a more sober state but I knew it would be easier to tell him in this loose goose fashion.

"Good. Good. Hold on a sec." The noise diffused as he seemed to walk to a quieter place. I debated making a joke about partying but that felt too petty and snarky. The noise became muffled when he spoke again. "Sorry. Hi. Can you hear me?"

His tone was granular, inducing me to laugh. "Yeah. Yeah. I can hear you."

"You okay?" His concern was overt. I wondered how many times he had been anxious over me as if he pictured me in some alley with a needle hanging out of my arm.

"Yeah. Fine." I picked at the straying denim thread of my shorts. "I just had something to tell you."

"Yeah?"

It was out with it, at least that felt proper, even if it felt unnatural to relay the news to him this way. "Penguin picked up my book."

Silence rang on the other end and I thought the call had gotten disconnected. He cleared his voice and said, "You know, I knew it. You're a writer, Janie."

The dam broke and the water was let loose from my eyes. I was determined for it to not be overheard, but it was clear in my voice. He never commented on it as I never commented on his elongated silences. We both knew what it meant. "I'll buy you a nice car or something with the money."

"Nah. Just get me a signed copy."

"You'll get the first one."

I dedicated the book to him. He wouldn't see it for another year but I wrote it down that night. For the one who said, "You're a writer, Janie."

*

Alex called me a few days later. This time I was at a bar and excused myself for a smoke. It was the last day of July and it felt like the final day of the heat wave, even if more humidity was to come.

He was rough on the phone. His voice, his attitude, the way I pictured him running his hands through his hair, ripping at the roots of it. "Hey. What are you doing?" He asked.

"Just hanging out with some friends," I answered. "You?"

He took a heavy sigh and coughed once. He was smoking, I could tell. "I feel a little stupid, to be honest."

"Why?"

He waited, likely taking a drag and hanging with a deep thought. I nearly fell over when he said, "I, uh, just had sex with someone. Sorry if that's weird."

It was weird, not him doing it. Obviously, I had gotten up to my own business, but I don't know the decorum of calling your on-a-break girlfriend to let her know you fucked someone else. Still, I said, "No, I mean...well, I just." I struggled with how to respond. "Is there a reason you called me to tell me?"

He laughed. "'Cause I'm a soppy idiot, I guess."

"How so?"

"You know." I could hear him shift, either standing up or sitting down. The wind whistled around him. I wondered if he was outside while the girl he slept with was still in bed. I wondered how weird this was for her. "I've never..."

"You can't fake that you're a virgin when we met Alex," I joked.

He chuckled, coughing on something again. "Yeah, but I, uh, haven't done that with someone else in like seven years." He laughed through it awkwardly, not an ounce of him found it to be funny.

"Not even when we were broken up?"

"No." God, I really was a slag, slut, and a whore. Or maybe I was just normal and he was some modest conservative boy. "Well, I got a blowjob once."

"Hooker?"

"Very funny," he said dryly. "Anyway, I was smoking and thinking, you know, doing my worst. I guess, my impulses took over."

"Are we going to have phone sex now?" I quipped.

"Shut up," he chuckled. Something else happened around him that I wasn't able to catch. A moment later he said, "Thanks for listening. I'll, uh, talk to you soon."

"Okay. Sure."

*

Alex cut his hair in August. I received this news over Twitter and a text from Opal, who had just returned to Los Angeles. It was quite dramatic. No longer the kind of haircut down in a bathtub. I debated texting him about it but I didn't want him to think I was stalking him on the internet. I very much was, it was a lonely Tuesday night where I drank too much wine at dinner with Jackson (still celebrating).

However, this then caused me to make the mistake that I then had to do something drastic with my hair. Big mistake. Huge. The following night, I enlisted Tasha's help to dye my hair blonde. My hair...did not come out blonde. It was frizzy. It was orange. I nearly decided to just shave all my hair off if not for Tasha calming me down by having us watch Curb Your Enthusiasm. 

Most dreadful thing was having to go to work the next day. I thought about putting a bag over my head. I thought about taking off work. I thought about quitting my job. I thought about taking my head off. I sent a picture to Opal, my yes-man cheerleader, who told me it looked great and wacky and I should just own it. I wore it in a low bun with a hat on and took one step out the door before deciding to call in sick to work.

I made an emergency call to my hair salon, which didn't have anything available until Monday morning. So I faked a long sickness, which in a way was a real sickness because I just sat on the couch watching TV and ordering take-out for 4 days. The only time I went outside was to smoke on the roof, which I stopped doing after my neighbor saw me and gave me a strange look, likely thinking I had just escaped the institution. 

Monday morning, my hair stylist said to me, "You know, blonde just isn't your colour. You're too pale, it washes you out."

I melodramatically dived my head into my hands and said, "I know. I'm so stupid!"

"We could take you back to brown or we could...?" That dot dot dot seemed more appealing to me than going back to my old self, especially after staring at Bozo the Clown for the past few days. So, I went red, well, a coppery red. Tasha said I was a penny. It wasn't as good as my natural colour, I think I was blessed with the colour I was supposed to be. But if I was spiraling I'd like to associate it with a different version of myself.

It took all of this for me to realize that if I had stressed so much about changing my hair that maybe, just maybe, Alex's haircut wasn't to look cool for all the hot new babes. It was maybe to look cool for me.

Then, he got a new girlfriend.

I didn't know anything about her. She was tall, brunette, skinny with a cool name. I wouldn't label my feelings to be jealousy, maybe a little, but it was more like she had taken my toy on the playground and I had no chance of getting it back. 

I wouldn't even go into my preconceived notions of what "being on a break" meant to me because then we'd be getting into a whole Ross and Rachel debate that I'm just not up for. What was the difference between sleeping with people and dating people? There was one thing: Alex and I were now exes. We could call ourselves friends as much as we wanted but above all else the way the world would label us was the ex-girlfriend of Alex Turner and the ex-boyfriend of Jane Cavendish. 

I thought about being rash and going out to troll the streets until I got a boyfriend too but the logical part of my brain finally kicked in (frontal lobe development) and realized the whole reason why I wanted a break from Alex was that work and the extracurricular activities that came along with it were too much to maintain a relationship, especially since Alex had been my only long term relationship. To dive myself into anything but casual at that point felt reckless.

Instead, I focused on work, the book, and my friends. All three felt more valuable at that moment than some guy. I had balanced around friend groups since Barnsley and for the first time since I felt settled with friends I could call at the drop of a hat. I made Fennel and Kaka my emergency contacts. Tasha was who I went to if I wanted chaos. Opal was for sage advice. Jackson was my literary consultant. 

It made me laugh but I quite liked how grown I was. I flip-flopped a lot. I was also 25 so it made sense. I told Stacey this when she and her boyfriend broke up. She said it was stupid and then cried about how much she missed me. Cavendishes produce quite dramatic women.

*

The next time Alex came to town, I didn't avoid it. My life had intertwined itself in tight, deep fashions that there was never a possibility of me not seeing the band live. It would be weird to miss out on this tour, especially when we had established and fostered that we would remain friends. Whether growth or distance, I didn't have mixed emotions about this. I was quite excited for the concert.

Thank god I didn't miss it because it might be the wildest show of theirs I ever attended. It felt like the old days back when we were beneath the boardwalk or stuck in someone's basement and people were sweaty and climbing all over each other, including the band themselves. The venue was in Brooklyn, Music Hall of Williamsburg, a venue that only held 650 people, possibly the smallest venue I had seen them in since the pre-debut days. 

I took Jackson and Opal with me, who hadn't specifically come out for this show since Jackson practically lived with me since the book deal began and Opal had been trying to convince herself of ways not to move out to New York. However, I didn't want to go alone and Fennel's and Kaka's scene wasn't exactly a rock concert and Tasha didn't want to bring back bad memories. We made the wise decision to smoke a joint before going into the venue. 

I told Alex on the phone a few days before that I was going and he was happy about it but that was about it. I texted Matt and he was quite excited for me to meet his new girlfriend, Breana. I did think there was a possibility I would meet other girlfriends too.

The show started decently normal. They opened with "Pretty Visitors," they did "Fluorescent Adolescent," and then things seemed to unravel around "Brianstorm" when a girl climbed on stage and began dancing. I have found this to be the greatest way to interfere with a show. 

There's always the weirdos who climb on stage to try and hug or kiss the artist, but she simply climbed up on stage and started jamming out. I shun them for taking her off and interrupting her fun. She was quite the entertainment. They could use all the help they needed. 

During "The View From the Afternoon," Matt missed his beloved signature drumstick throw and catch, likely due to Alex trying to intercept it. Neither men seemed so macho anymore. However, Alex then jumped off Matt's drum set in an attempt to gain some bravado back.

I suppose the point I should be commenting on the most is Alex singing his new girlfriend's name in a song presumably written about me, however, I didn't notice it. I noticed Jamie screwing up his guitar solo after this. Maybe that shielded me from the bullet but I think even if I had noticed I wouldn't have cared much. 

Because there's something odd about Alex doing that at a show that I attended. I mean, she was there too, but I don't think that's why he did that. Maybe I'm being too self-centered to think he wanted to make it a point that he had moved on but I already knew that he had moved on and I was passed sobbing over it. 

Nothing I did could change it now, in fact, I was part of the reason why they were together now. If I hadn't implemented the break then the song would have had a far different outcome but I don't know how Jane sounds in a song. Pain, rain, strange, vain. They aren't very pleasant words and she had a nice name for an elongated note instead of "oh-oh-oh." Plus, I mean, the song was written about me, right?

In any case, after the show, I met up with them backstage. It was a small area for a small venue, close proximity to everyone. Alex and his new beau, Arielle, were off somewhere else while I got introduced to Breana and teased about my new hair. I then got paranoid about the fact that Alex would think I copied him somehow but considering how much I constantly talked about changing my hair, I realized that the alarm bells should be raised with him and not me. I very well could have done it before his haircut and he would have been none the wiser.

It was the first thing he commented on when I saw him. He was casually dressed with his leather jacket slung over his arm. The hair was slicked back but the front fell at different angles after the intensity of the show. He made a sound along the lines of "Woah" before saying, "Almost didn't recognize you there." His arms hugged around me and I was determined for no one to think of this interaction as awkward.

"Could say the same thing to you," I countered. 

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Suppose so." He waved to Jackson and Opal and I could spot the conflicting pull he had about whether to introduce me to Arielle or not. But if we were going to be friends he'd have to introduce the girl on his arm. "This is Arielle."

She hugged me. She was delightful and bubbly and her hair colour looked too similar to mine. I worried that I had made things awkward for her but she either paid no mind to me or was in the same boat as me to combat any tensions. "Jane," she said so lovingly, "I've read some of your work. Alex told me you have a book coming out. That's awesome!"

I wonder if she had cyber-stalked me like I had cyber-stalked her. Did she get a subscription to the New Yorker to read my pieces like I had downloaded Vine to watch her? Should I have complimented her Vines? Is that a thing you do? 

"Thank you." Deflecting attention away from me was key. I turned to Jackson and Opal. "These are my friends, Jackson, who is my book agent, and Opal, who introduced me to him."

They greeted one another and Arielle asked some questions about what Opal did for a living and what it meant to be a book agent. I stared at Alex. Not in that cumbersome longing way or flirtatiously. He smiled at me and I smiled at him. My lips nearly felt the urge to mouth if he wanted to step out for a smoke for me but I figured I wasn't in a position to do that anymore. 

But he moved to the other side of Arielle to get closer to me and asked, "What did you think?"

"Of what?" I thought he was asking what I thought of Arielle.

"Of the show?" He chuckled when saying it like he already knew what my answer would be.

There was no shrugging off this show or promising a more detailed review later, it was clear. "It was maybe the best thing I've ever seen and it had nothing to do with you guys at all."

He cracked a laugh and I joined him in it. "Yeah, we're thinking of bringing her out for all the shows," he said, referring to the stage climber. "How's the book coming along?"

"It'll be coming out in June. We finalized the book cover last week." It wasn't big and fancy. It was actually quite similar to the Suck It and See album cover with it being mainly just text. Although, my font was better than his font. Jackson wanted to put palm trees on the cover but I didn't like that. It felt too cheesy.

"Your author photo taken?" He knew how much I stressed about that. I found most author photos to be ugly and was determined for mine to not resemble my primary school picture day photo.

I slapped my palm to my forehead. "Don't remind me. I'll probably break out into hives while it's being taken."

"You worry too much," he chastised me. "You'll be beautiful in whatever photo you end up with. It's about the book anyway and you already know that's great."

I smiled but didn't thank him for how much that meant to me. I'm not sure what everyone did after that, I think they went for drinks, but there was no invitation to hang out after the show. Opal, Jackson, and I went home. 

When we said goodbye, I kissed everyone on the cheek. I wondered if that was too much. A lip gloss stain on the side of Alex's cheek from me.

*

a/n: i wrote the majority of this today and yesterday in random bursts of creativity while being sick. maybe being sick was key all along.

[httpsdana]

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬~𝐀 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐭 𝟕

summary: Barça players and talented footballers. Souls meet and sparks fly. But there's always a twist when it comes to love isn't there?

pairing: Ferran Torres x Gonzalez!Reader

warnings: cursing, slight age gap, angst

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"you're not afraid of dogs are you?" Ferran told y/n as soon as they stepped into the apartment. His dog ran to him, jumping on him when he appeared.

y/n smiled and shook her head, leaning down to pet the cute dog.

"her name is Roma" he said, taking off his shoes.

Roma started sniffing y/n, making her freeze in her place. When the dog was done, she jumped on y/n, nuzzling her nose into y/n's shirt.

y/n giggles at the dog's movements, scratching her head with one hand and steadying herself with the other

Ferran watched with a smile on his face how y/n was getting on well with his dog, who doesn't really like many people he has shown to her.

"she likes you" Ferran said, helping y/n stand up. y/n smiled and looked down at the brown dog that was looking up at her.

"I'm glad she does. I like her too" she said, making Ferran chuckle.

"i hope you haven't had dinner yet cause I made some really good pasta" Ferran started walking to his kitchen, while y/n and Roma followed him behind

"uh I don't usually have dinner so..." y/n said, smelling the delicious scent of the food he had made

"you don't? why not?" he was confused.

"i consider lunch my main meal. so I have a late lunch and a small snack at night" y/n shrugged. She looked around his kitchen. it was so neat for a guy living on his own.

Even his apartment was organized and smelled nice.

"you shouldn't do that you know" he said. He grabbed two plates from the cupboard and then two forks.

y/n helped him set the plates on the table for them to sit down.

"well that's how I built my routine" she chuckled.

"would you like some wine?" Ferran asked.

y/n instantly got uncomfortable at the mention of anything related to alcohol

"actually I'll just have some water please" she said in a low voice. Ferran picked up on her discomfort and put water for both of them

On dinner, they were sat chatting all the time. y/n has gotten more comfortable with him, and can finally say that she has a friend who she can talk to.

"tell me about your love life" Ferran said, when he felt like the conversation was slowly dying

y/n gulped, looking up at him while he intensely looked at her

"why would you wanna know about my love life?" she raised her eyebrows, making him smirk

"to see if i should improve" he said, the smirk still on his face

He was now shamelessly flirting with her, not even trying to hide it

y/n was taken back by his answer

"oh wow" she said, taking a small sip of her water

"well I never really had a boyfriend so..." she trailed off, making Ferran raise his eyebrows in shock

"how did you never have a boyfriend before?" he said surprised that no one had dated the beautiful girl sitting across from him

She shrugged her shoulders, poking her food with her fork

"i never really liked anyone. and if I did they'd either have a partner or are not interested in me" she chuckled, before looking up at him

"what about you? you tell me about your love life" she placed her chin on her hand, putting her elbow on the table to look at him

he broke eye contact immediately before shaking his head.

"nothing much" he replied blankly, making y/n realize he had something to hide or just felt uncomfortable at that moment

They sat in awkward silence for a while, until Ferran spoke up again

"you know i wasn't joking when I said this was a date" he said.

y/n's eyes snapped to his. She felt vulnerable under his intense gaze unable to keep looking at his gorgeous brown eyes

"you weren't?" she mumbled looking everywhere but at him

He shook his head and leaned forward, his arms on the table while he still looked at her face

"I want to get to know you better and go out with you" he said with no hesitation

y/n let out a sigh and looked at him

"why?" she asked him

"because I like you" he said, as if it's the most obvious thing

y/n's mind went blank. Her heart started racing and she was left speechless for a second

did he just confess to her?

She swallowed the lump in her throat and let out a shaky breath

"y-you do? but you don't even know me" she said, still comprehending what he said

Ferran laughed slightly and leaned back onto the chair.

"well that might just be a lie" he said. y/n furrowed her eyebrows and waited for him to speak up

"I have been following you and known you since I arrived to Barcelona. I know everything about you, as creepy as that sounds. The only thing I didn't know was that Pedri was your brother" he confessed

y/n looked at him with wide eyes. She thought she was being a creep when she already knew him. Turns out he was worse. But she didn't wanna tell him that she knew him too either.

"oh" she mumbled

Ferran smiled and grabbed her hand from across the table. y/n looked up at him immediately as their hands made contact

"I really do like you y/n. and I wanna try to see if something might bloom between us" he said softly, his thumb running over her knuckles in a comforting way

y/n felt her heart skip a beat. All she wanted was to tell him that she likes him too. But the thought of Pedri crossed her mind, and she couldn't help remove her hand from his.

Ferran's smile faded a bit while he waited for her to say something

"what about Pedri?" she said in a serious tone

"we can keep it down a bit to see if something ends up happening. If we start dating then we'll tell him and he can't do anything about it. If we don't, then there's nothing to worry about" he said, almost convincing her

When he saw her hesitation he let out a sigh and spoke up

"y/n, I'm ready to get on my knees and beg you for this one chance. I don't care what Pedri thinks. and you shouldn't either. this is your life and he's not supposed to control it" he said seriously

y/n let out a breath and looked at his eyes. He had a hopeful look in his eyes and a small smile. She couldn't say no to him, but Pedri was still on her mind and what he would think if he found out.

"okay" she breathed out. He smiled widely and grabbed both her hands again

"i promise you won't regret it" he rubbed her hands with his

She smiled at him, although what Pedri would think was still burning in the back of her head.

"i hope so" she squeezed his hands in her own

"shall we watch a movie now?" Ferran suggested. She nodded her head and helped him clean their dishes before they watched their movie

[migueloharaslave]

You stood in front of a mirror, tugging on the dress you picked to wear for the night. It has been a couple of months since you've joined alchemex and tonight the company hosted a little reward show to give recognitions to some of the Geneticists for their new discovery in their project.

You hummed as you walked over to the dresser, grabbing one of your vanilla scented perfumes. You gently sprayed the mist on yourself before walking over to the bed, which your boyfriend was stretched across of.

"Okay I'm about to go, do you need anything?" You asked Shawn, with a small smile on yourself. You and Shawn have been together since highschool, you two started dating when you were 16 and now your 24.

"No. I'm good. Go have fun." He muttered as he sat up in the bed, resting his back against the headboard as he continued to text on his phone.

"Okay.." You were expecting some sort of kiss goodbye just like he used to do.. but now he doesn't anymore. Sometimes it feels like Shawn doesn't even love you as much as you love him.

"Well, bye. Love you." You grabbed your purse and walked out the room, closing the door behind you.

You sighed, walking out of your apartment you felt nothing but guilt. Did you do something wrong? Did you say something? What if he isn't interested anymore? All those thoughts bottled up in your chest was ready to spill out.

You felt a lump in your throat and you decided to swallow to get rid of it, you didn't need to be upset about anything right now.

..You stepped into the venue, greeting some of your fellow coworkers as you shared laughs and giggles.

You smiled as you listened to them gossip about this guy.. one of the Geneticist who is apparently a real hot hunk of a man.

"He's supposed to be the lead on this project. I've heard he's single, but he doesn't really seem to be interested in dating." One of your coworkers spoke as she took a sip of her wine.

"No, I've heard rumors of him dating someone.. Whoever she is, she's lucky." Another coworker spoke, and as they continued their conversation you sorta zoned out.. thinking about your boyfriend.

You decided to excuse yourself from the group and went over to the bar. You told the bartender what drink you wanted, and he made it and handed it to you with a warm smile. "Enjoy your drink, Ma'am." He spoke in a tone of class.

And just as you got the drink, ready to walk back to the table with your gal pals, you bump into someone.

"Oh my god.. I am so sorry. I should had been paying attention." You quickly put the glass down and grabbed a napkin to hand it to the man who stood before you.

When you finally looked up at him, your eyes met his.. you stared at those eyes of his.. those dark crimson eyes seemed like something out of a film, something only a man from the dream could have and god his height, he had to be above six feet atleast. That nice bronze skin, slicked back brunette hair, the strong facial structures he had.. those broad shoulders, you could honestly tell he went to the gym.

"No, worries. It's fine, dear." He chuckled softly, taking the napkin and gently dabbing the liquid off of his black blazer. He then crumbled it up and tossing it in a nearby trashcan.

He cleared his throat, holding out his hand to you. "I'm Miguel O'Hara, it's nice to meet you, Ms..?"

You smiled softly as you took his hand into yours, feeling the rough calloused hand of his, you tucked a strand behind your ear as you spoke. "Y/N."

"Pleased to meet you. I haven't seen you around before, are you new?" Miguel spoked as he pulled his hand away, slipping them into the pockets of his dress pants and your eyes couldn't help but follow them.

You looked up at him, "Yes.. I started working here a couple months ago. I'm one of the new research scientists."Miguel looked at you up at down, seeming to be examining you.

"Well.. That's nice. I hope to see you around more now that I know your name, Y/N." The way your named rolled off of his tongue sent a shiver down your spine, you licked your lips as you felt them go dry.

"Yeah.. I'll definitely be looking around for you, yknow since your all.. tall and stuff." You giggled nervously then you furrowed your brows at your words, cringing at how awkward that was. You couldn't even talk to a guy, well a attractive guy at that. Was it weird to find him attractive when you had a whole boyfriend at home? Yes, but it isn't a crime.

Miguel gave you a look that seemed as if he was slightly confused but he just shook it off. "Well, I'll be going now. I'll see you around." He smiled at you one last time before waving and walking off.

You stood there, watching him. You dumbfounded, clenching onto your purse as your heart raced in your chest. You felt as if you wanted to faint not only did you see a most amazing hunk of a man, but you were.. attracted to him.

Just feeling like that for another guy made you feel guilty deep down inside.. you didn't wanna hurt your boyfriend's feelings.. but god that Miguel looked like he could do wonders to your body. Shaking off your wild thoughts you just asked the bartender for a shot of vodka, you grabbed the glass and gulped it down within in a second and sat it down. You whispered a small thank you and walked away, looking around you found your little clique again.

"Y/N! We were just talking about you." The girl laughed as you joined them at the table. You sat down at the table with them at a empty spot looking around, as your attention was soon drawn to the stage when you saw someone walking on up to a podium. "I was just looking around.. that's all." You said softly as you looked at her with a small smile.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the attention was focused on the stage to a man with a mic, "Welcome everyone. Tonight is a big night! We're recognizing our amazing geneticist team and their new project. Their job working on this project for months really paid off and it opened up a new path for more studies to occur. Now, will Miguel O'Hara and his team come to the stage." Your throat went dry at the mention of his name, was he the guy your coworkers were not too long gossiping about? You watched as he stepped onto the stage along with four other people and they smiled as they stood on stage behind him and he adjusted his tie.

Miguel placed those calloused hands against the side of the podium, leaning down to speak in the mic. "Thank you to everyone for the support on this project. It has been stressful these past few months while we worked on it, but we managed to get through it as a team. Teamwork is a major factor in this company, it's what keeps the creativity flowing and more ideas being produced. Thank you to my team for working on this project with me, although it took a lot of convincing.. and thank you to corporate for funding this project, it is highly appreciated. Hopefully this will open new doors for not only us, but also the new generation of scientist on their way. Thank you."

You sat there and clapped after that speech of his, you weren't really focused on what he was saying.. only on his voice, the way his deep voice sounds, the little rasp within it. Something about it drove you crazy.

...After more scientist got their recognition, along with hours of talking to random people you finally got home. You groaned as you walked into your apartment, kicking your heels off. "I'm home!" You called out to your boyfriend. You heard rumbling coming from the room so you went to go check and see what he was doing.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you walked into the room, looking around. Your bed was a little messy, but it looked like Shawn was sleeping by the way he was just casually laying under the sheets.

"Yeah! I'm fine. Didn't think you were coming home early." He chuckled, he stood up and walked over to you. He was in his boxers, which were something he usually didn't sleep in. You were taking off your jewelry and then you started to take off your makeup.

"I was too tired to stay for the after party stuff." You muttered as you looked up at him, you stood up walking up to the mirror next to your closet and he quickly followed you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing.. I just wanna follow you around." He smiled as he leaned against the closet door. He licked his lips as he watched you take your hair out of the bun you pinned it up in.

"Well, I'm gonna shower now." You smiled at him and pecked a kiss on his cheek. You walked out the room, and when he heard the shower start running he immediately open the closet door and as expected, there was a half naked girl.

"Jenni, Go before she finds out. Hurry up." He hissed softly as he shooed her out of the apartment.

(ERM THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC OBVIOUSLY ITS NOT GONNA BE GOOD BUT MY FRIENDS LIKED IT AND YEAH SO THIS IS IT PLEASE GIVE FEEDBACK, ADVICE, AND MAYBE IDEAS FOR PART TWO 😜)

[yunoclips]

heyyy i love your work sm i'm so happy to see someone pushing the sub nct agenda 🙏 i was wondering if you can please write an imagine where mark and reader are in a kinda new relationship and have sex together for the first time, and mark opens up saying that he's actually a virgin and reader helps him out thank youu!!!

Hey anon , Thank you so much for enjoying my work! I gotchu you with the mark request. I kinda got carried away .... so it's pretty long. I hope you don't mind but just incase I colored the part where everything really starts in red. I also incorporated a little birthday aspect cause I was late for his birthday. Happy Birthday Mark lee and I hope you enjoy anon ❤️

It was a warm night in the city. You and your boyfriend of 5 months had just celebrated his 24th birthday at a fancy restaurant. The night was filled with jokes , observing the people around you and heartfelt conversations. The night was still young. You two headed back to your apartment to end the night off. 

“Did you see the look on that guys face when the waiter took his girlfriend’s order ? It was priceless.” Says mark. He’s slightly giggling while kicking his dress shoes off at the front door. His smile so genuine, being in your presence made him feel unexplainable joy. He felt as though he found someone that finally saw him for who he really was. 

“No, I bet it must’ve reeked of jealousy though” Your voice dripping of smooth honey. Tone enveloping him like a warm hug. You take off your jacket hanging it by the rack near the front door. Making your way through the cozy apartment you pose an idea to him. “How about I light a couple candles and pour us a glass a wine. How does that sound ?” You say while bending down to take off your heels. Looking up at Mark, you can see he likes that idea very much. His innocent eyes light up and his smile grows larger.

“Yea I’d like that.” His smile could be heard from the tone of his voice. 

“Yea?” You playfully question before moving closer to him. You lean into his ear to whisper

“Why don’t you go take a seat on the couch. I’ll meet you there” When you move away you can see his chest rising and falling quickly. You chuckle silently to yourself before heading off to the kitchen. 

Grabbing two wine glasses and a bottle of rich wed wine , you head back to the living room. You find Mark admiring the collection of vinyl records you had hanging on the walls. 

“See something you like.” You ask , interrupting his day dreaming. Setting down the glasses and bottle of wine on the modern glass table. Picking up the matchbook , you start lighting the candles around the living room. 

“Actually , yea I do. That Stevie Wonder album you have up there is one of my favorites. Brings back so many memories.” Thoughtful smile lighting his face as he answers your question. 

There’s a quick beat of silence. All that can be heard is the sounds of a lit up city at night and the crackling of the candles. 

“Good memories I hope ?” You say while finally taking a seat on the soft cushion of the couch. You pop open a bottle and begin to pour. 

“Yea , of course.” He responds. Eyes fixated on the way you gracefully pour wine into the two glasses. Random thoughts start to race his mind. How were you able to open that bottle so smoothly? How did you know when the glasses were evenly filled? How did you collect all of these vintage albums? How was your home so cozy? How were you so perfect?

“You make music right Mark? I assume you’re passionate about it.” Questioning him , trying to get him to open up about what he’s devoted to. You take a sip of wine waiting for him to answer you. 

Taking him out of his slight trance , he starts speaking. “Um yea actually, I love to compose music. Rapping is just something that always stuck to me. Rap got me through a few tough times.” He pauses. Staring down at his hand , twisting the ring that wraps around his index finger. He starts again “I— uh… Gosh I sound like a loser right now don’t I?” He jokes, trying to lighten up the mood.  

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t restrict yourself from saying what’s on your mind. I’m always here to listen.” You say with genuine concern and care lacing through your voice. 

He stares into your eyes like the galaxy lies behind them. He nods hesitantly before he starts to speak again , nervousness coursing through his voice. 

“I mean — it’s just that I’ve never really been able to get this far without someone telling me that I’m wasting my life on music. I really love it you know.. I don’t know where I’d be without it honestly. Everything about rap draws me in. The cadency , the tone , the message.” He continues to ramble about his passion for music. 

Something about him discussing music so passionately turns you on. The fact that he can be so devoted to something despite the backlash he receives from the people he loves the most just displays his strong will. You stare at him in complete admiration as he continues to speak. Head resting on your hand that’s propped up by the couch. 

He starts to notice that you stopped responding to him. In worry he turns his head to face you but is instantly flustered when he does so. There you are staring at him with such a dreamy expression. He doesn’t say anything , just stares back. Letting the air between you two envelope you both and transfer you to another world where it’s only him and you. 

You stare at his luscious lips. Trailing from his bottom lip up to his puppy like eyes. Before you realize it you're leaning in. Finally kissing him like your life depends on it. Things start of slow and sensual. Almost like you two were breathing life into each other’s bodies. Then it starts to progress. Your hands run through his blonde hair. Gripping him at the nape Somehow trying to breathe him into your entire being. 

You try to take things further by straddling him. Hands running down his white button up before they reach the zipper of his slacks. You can feel him hardening underneath you. You get to unzip his pants while still keeping lips connected. A sudden resistance makes you pause your ministrations. Mark pulls back from the intense kiss , gasping for air. 

“W-wait , I-i’m a virgin. I’m sorry I know I should’ve said this before you started grinding on me b-but it just felt really good and I got caught up and I’m so stupid for forgetting to tel-“

Before he can finish his nervous mumbling you move off of his lap. Regaining your breath you turn to him. Grabbing his face with both of your hands. His cheeks getting squeezed between your hands. 

“Mark I need you to tell me right now if this is something you want. If it isn’t we can stop right here, I won’t be upset or disappointed.” You say while firmly staring into his big brown eyes. 

“I-i want this. I really really want this. I’m just scared , what i-if it isn’t good. What if I don’t make you feel good?” He says with wandering eyes. 

“Mark look at me, this isn’t about me. It’s about you. It’ll feel good regardless if I finish or not just because I’m doing this with you.” 

His eyes trail to your’s. Finally locking in , he gives you a nod. 

“Okay, we’re really doing this aren’t we.” You pause. 

“Let me go grab a condom from my room. I’ll be right back” You say while attempting to get up. Mark’s hand gripping your wrist prevents you from doing so. 

“W-wait. I have one in my pants pocket. Just for emergency y’know” 

You chuckle in pure adornment. “The man that you are Mark Lee.” 

Situating yourself back on the couch you reach for the condom in his pocket. Pulling it out and placing it on the table. You turn back to Mark who’s breathing erratically. Completely stiff. 

“Just breathe Mark. I’ve got you, I would never do anything that would put you in harm.”

Reassuring him. He doesn’t verbally respond but instead nods his head. Trying to take deep breaths. 

“Is it okay if I pull this off ?” You ask referring to his pants and underwear. 

“Y-yea that’s okay.” Responding , still breathing heavily but not as bad as before. 

With that you get off the couch to kneel. Grabbing his pants and underwear at the hem. You tap his thigh so he can lift himself and in one motion you pull off both of the pieces of clothing. They slightly get stuck at his feet but with a little tug they come right off. 

You look up in awe at the sight before you. Your boyfriends beautiful cock sitting against his abdomen. Hardened and red , pre-cum leaking from the mushroom tip. 

His breathing begins to pick up again. Before it goes back to it’s uncontrolled pace you grip the base of his cock. His breathing comes to a halt. You look up at him to see that his mouth is slightly open , Eye’s fixated on your hand. 

“Don’t forget to breathe markie. Just relax, I got you.” You say before you begin working on him. 

You start by placing a soft kiss to his tip. That alone has his abs contracting. You move on by wrapping your mouth around his entire mushroom like head, sucking at it softly. Trying carefully to not overwhelm him. You can hear a small whimper coming from him , almost like a hurt puppy. How cute. 

You continue to suck at his tip , showing it a good amount of love before you let up. You stare up at him , his mouth now hanging open. Face scrunched in a pained expression. You decide to maintain eye contact with him. 

Spitting on your hand you place It back at the base. Before making further movements you go back to sucking the head while continuing to maintain eye contact with him. His chests starts to heave. Eyes closing slightly , head lolling back against the couch before picking it back up to continue watching you.

You start moving your hand up and down his shaft slowly while sucking on his tip. The movements making his thighs shake slightly. You decide to speed things up , moving your hand faster , twisting it in circular motions when you get to the base. He fails to keep his head up. Mouth now wide open. His neck is more accentuated from the stretch. You can see his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. 

“F—fuck , f-fucking hell.” His words are slurred , like he’s drunk off of pleasure. 

You can tell that he’s close. You decide to let up. Stopping your movements. He picks up his head , staring at you in desperation. Before he can speak up you interrupt him. 

“Can’t have you finishing before we get to the main part.” 

Grabbing the condom you rip it open with your teeth. You stretch it open slightly and then lean down to slide it down his erect cock. He flinches bit from the sensitivity. You then stand up and slide your panties down under your dress. You can feel the wetness spreading over your lips. The slide should be easy.

You walk over to Mark , straddling him on the couch. You hook your finger under his chin forcing him to look at you. 

“Don’t forget to breathe. If it’s too much we can stop anytime.” 

He nods. Nd before he can think anymore you start to slide down on his cock. 

An overwhelming surge of safeness and security takes over him. You wrap around him like a hug that’s never-ending. It feels like his entire soul is being sucked in by the warmness of your walls. His mouth is agape. His breathing has came to a complete halt. His eye lids flutter and a single tear falls onto his soft cheek. 

You finally bottom out. You sit still for a minute , giving yourself time to adjust and him time to calm down. His chest starts to heave again. You lean in to steal a kiss , while he’s distracted you start to slowly move up and down. His mouth opens mid-kiss. Gasping for air,  letting out breathy moans.

You move your head back so you can stare into his eyes. The sight alone makes you melt into a million pieces. He stares up at you like a lost puppy , eyes sparkling with lust and desire. His cheek shining from the light of the moon reflecting on his singular tear. 

“I—I, uhhh fuck. I t-think I’m g-gonna, shit” He tries to get out a complete sentence but your movements prevent him from forming proper words. You know what he’s trying to say though 

“It’s okay baby boy. Let it all go, all you have to do for me is sit there and enjoy it.” With that you start to pick up the pace. You lean in ,resting your chin in the crook of his neck. Your hands wrap around his neck , running through the hair at the nape. 

Mark’s body is completely boneless underneath you. His arms can’t even reach to grab you for support. His body has completely surrendered itself to you.

You can hear him get silent. His body starts arching off the couch. Thighs flexing , abs contracting. It sounds like he’s choking on his air. The build up so intense that his ears start ringing and his vision goes blurry. Just as fast as the world builds itself, it comes crashing down. His body starts jerking violently as you can feel warm semen start to fill up the condom. You start to slow down your movements , trying your best to ride out his high. Your arms still wrapped around his neck. Your breathing pattern clashing with his , irregular and untimed. 

Silence and the sounds of heavy breathing fills the room. You don’t move though , the bubble you two have created is so warm and cozy that you fear that any movement will burst it.  But that bubble only lasts so long before the words of the boy underneath you pop it.

“I-i love you. T-thank you so much” He says in a shaky voice, almost like he’s crying. In fact he is crying , not from pain though. From pure happiness. 

And before anything else can be said you respond. 

“I love you too. Happy Birthday Mark.” 

[idkversace]

party- Virgil van Dijk

virgil invites you to a Robertson’s party and picks you up for awhile and no one notices you guys went out to make out.

Words: 2.159

Warnings: alcohol, smut, cute

*English is not my native language

POV VVD

With each passing hour the party fills up more and more, I didn't know that Robbo knew so many people, to tell you the truth I don't think he did, it was friends of friends that happened. I came straight from an appointment without thinking much about how I was dressing, but looking back now I think I should have gone at home, people are wearing linen shirts, well-pressed pants, women wearing beautiful dresses from very expensive brands, while my jeans and my sweatshirt made me comfortable and maybe too comfortable.

"Virgil?" - I hear Robbo calling me

“Hey”

"Bro, where were you?"

“Here, hey”— I answer, settling down and leaning on the counter that was behind me and taking a sip of my beer

"You've been looking at the door for ten minutes," Trent, who was with me, tells me

“I'm not”

“Waiting for someone?” A woman who just arrived says as she holds my arm and calls the bartender

“No” I say looking at the door but the truth is that I'm waiting, Y/N and I, we've been going out for some time and every time we talk I have the full conviction that I'm falling in love with her. I invited her to the party but because of the appointment earlier with some doctors and physiotherapists to help with a small injury I had during training I couldn't get it, but she proposed to come and then I would take her home. The woman who stopped next to me keeps bringing up the subject and I'm dry with words until I see her entering the house, she's stunning with a black dress that marks her entire body and sneakers of the same color, Y/N had already told me that High heels weren't something she liked to wear, and I admired more and more when she didn't just wear them to impress me or someone else. As soon as our eyes meet, they radiate something we've been holding onto for ages. Lust. Y/N nods indicating she saw where we are and I feel anxious, I feel anxious to be able to touch her, she walks over to me, stopping in front of me while I compose myself and hug her, the guys are not understanding because I didn't mention that she was coming and they had never seen her. While hugging I speak in her ear “you look beautiful” and she squeezes me in her arms and lets me go greeting the guys introducing themselves, I don’t fail to analyze how beautiful and smelling she is.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N” Robbo says

"Virgil didn't say you were coming, we're surprised. Nice to meet you” - Trent Speaks

“I didn't even know if I was going to make it and you do” I say as I turn around at the counter ordering two more beers. The bartender brings it to me and I extend one to Y/N who accepts and thanks.

We were talking for a long time and enjoying the party, some time later Bobby and Renata arrive and Y/N engages in a conversation with my friend's wife, while the guys and I discuss about the next teams we would face.

Y/N and Renata go in search of seeing Robbo's new house and greeting Robbo's wife. I see Y/N coming over smiling and stopping beside me as she touches my arm over the top of the sweatshirt I'm wearing.

"Want another beer?" I say getting close to her

“I'll take some water” she says smiling while looking at me with those eyes she remembered a few nights ago when we were at her house drinking wine and by the second glass she was already drunk and sleepy, I call the bartender and ask for a still water for her.

“That day was a disaster,” she says as we share the same memory and I nod laughing.

"It wasn't, you know it wasn't!" Y/N got up the other day late for work while I missed practice because we spent all night talking while she did her best to stay awake

“I can't drink wine without you, Virgil,” she says and kisses me on the cheek.

“I don't want you to take it without me, always wait for me” I say, touching her hand subtly, she gives me a smile

"Did your appointment go well today?" - Y/N ask me

“We are evolving in the conversation, I think it will be success” I say, but without putting too much expectation

"It's going to be all right, I'll be here if you need me."

“I doubt it, but thanks for the support”

“I have a question” I say changing the subject, I don't want to talk about the injury much less about boring subjects while Y/N is totally beautiful next to me, this time I speak getting very close to her ear.

“I'm at your service, big boy” Y/N speaks in my ear

"If I rob you of a few minutes, do you think anyone will notice?" I ask

"If they notice, let them think we're gone." - she says and runs her tongue over her lips. I take Y/N's hand and head towards the hallway, dodging some people.

The hallway is empty and dimly lit, I lean Y/N on one of the windowsills, my body covers the woman in front of me and I kiss her, I place my hands on her waist and she wraps her arms around my neck pulling me further and deepening the kiss, my hands roam her side. We broke the kiss out of breath.

“Someone will see,” she says.

"No one will see," I say.

“But what if someone sees it and tomorrow it's in the tabloids in England?”

“Okay, if you want to leave then let's go I'll go right behind you” I get out of front of her waiting for her to get out of there and leave, but I'm caught by surprise

“God! you're going to kill me Virgil” she says she pulling me back to where I was before.

Y/N kisses me with desire and sticks her body to mine, her hands go to mine and there she leaves some scratches, while one of my hands stops at her waist and the other is in her hair

"I wish we had it at home," she tells me.

“We can go there you know right?”

“We can't, Robbo is your friend, it would be ugly”

“It's ugly that you turn me on and you know it”

“Yeah, I know” she says and laughs, she kisses me again and I put her on top of the railing. Y/N stays at my height, I open her legs and fit in there, we intensify the kiss and we don't care who could pass.

I squeeze her inner thigh and Y/N shivers, her hands are on my neck.

I bite her earlobe and she sighs and I pull up her dress a bit and run a finger over her panties. Cum! she's wet ready for me

“Damn Y/N, I really wanted to take off this dress of yours” I say softly and my finger is still pressed on your panties

“Virgil! - she says like a supplication bumping my lips and I give a smile, I make a move to remove my hand but she holds my hand and looks at me with supplication.

I kiss her and she reaches further forward causing my finger to have more contact with her panties that are already wet, my free hand goes to her neck and I pull further forward intensifying and she spreads her legs further. I push her panties to the side and my finger makes contact with her clit.

“Virg someone will see” - she says almost like a low moan

“Shiiu no one will see everyone is crazy or dancing, calm down” I say looking at her

I start the quiet, circular strokes on her clit and she gasps and squirms looking for more contact, Y/N is on fire and seeing that I'm the one providing this, my arousal rises even higher. I stick a finger in her and I see her bite her lips when I start the back and forth slow and she wants to let out a moan, she kisses me pulling my neck hard and squeezes my hand closing her thighs around it, I understand the message and speed up the movement, she she bites my lips so hard I taste blood as she starts kissing me again.

“van Dijk” she moans softly in my ear and I intensify the movements and my thumb starts stroking her clit, I kiss her neck, I move my hand up and squeeze one of her breasts and Brooke moans softly, in a hoarse way in the my ear

“Please” - she says and I increase the speed feeling her shudder in my arms, she kisses me hard and cum on my finger letting go of Virgil in the middle of the kiss.

I withdraw my hand from between her legs and leave it beside her body, she is limp and sweating as she looks up at me with a satisfied smile, pulls me in for another kiss.

“How can I thank you?” - she asks me softly

"No need to thank you, you know."

"But I want to," she says and runs her hand over my erection.

“Y/N” - I say softly - “Come on let's find a bathroom, we need to clean up.” I take her dress down and take her off the railing and she holds my clean hand so we can find a bathroom, we meet some people along the way in the hallway and say hello as if nothing had happened.

We find a bathroom and enter it, as soon as I close the door, she presses me in it and kisses me. Her hand goes straight to my erection and starts stroking over my pants.

“Y/N,” I whisper to her with my lips still glued together.

“Shut up” she says and unbuttons my pants - “I must say you look really good in jeans”

"Are you going to praise me now?" - I say

“It's never too late” she says and laughs, her hand goes to my dick on top of my boxers and squeezes it.

I kiss her and she takes my cock out of my underwear and starts caressing it, making back and forth movements, one of my hands goes to her ass and lifts one of her legs making the dress lift and her ass is exposed, she fits the leg lifted at my waist and my fingers part the lace of her panties and I penetrate with two at once. Y/N intensifies the back and forth movements on my cock and I do the same with my fingers, we moan softly each other's name and kiss, my free hand goes to my neck and I pull her closer. I take her in my lap and let her legs open as my cock rubs against her entrance. I get in and out slowly as she pleads in my ear for me to fuck her hard, but I have to control myself because we're not home.

“Virgil” - she speaks softly almost like a whisper and I feel her once again spill into my fingers and I come along with her.

“This was intense” I say taking my cock out of her and lowering her legs, she rests her forehead on my chest and we take a deep breath until our breathing returns to normal.

When we're back to normal, we go to the sink and wash up. We straightened up and left the bathroom, I took her hand and walked towards the crowd.

“This was amazing” - she says squeezing my hand and twitching remembering the feeling of having her under me.

"At your service always" I say with a laugh.

“Well, God made us in a separate house because either I would be pregnant or we wouldn't leave the house” - she laughs

"No babies yet, how about that?" - I stop looking at her and kiss her affectionately this time. I want to ask if she wants to stay with me, if she wants to live with me, but I know that Y/N is independent enough to take care of herself, and I don't want to rush things with her, I want to do it right.

Renata walks by and tells us that Geral is back there, no one seems to have missed us, we go to the backyard and leave Y/N there and get a drink, when I come back they are laughing at something Robbo said, Y/ N looks at me and calls me, I go after her and hug her putting my arms around her neck and leaning against the backyard wall bringing her along with me.

[dior-elkie]

Matchmaker's Regret

Hakuba Saguru was known for his keen intellect and sharp deduction skills, traits that had earned him a reputation as a brilliant detective. He had a close friend named Hattori Heiji, whose passion for solving crimes matched his own. Yet, despite their shared love for unraveling mysteries, Hattori often found himself feeling incomplete, as if ‘something’ was missing from his life.

One evening, as they sat together in Hakuba's study drinking wine, surrounded by shelves of books and the faint scent of aged paper, Hakuba observed his friend's weird behavior. Hattori’s doing a certain pose right now which he does whenever he’s solving a complicated case. But right now, they’re just hanging out. So what might Hattori be thinking in that prett— in that head of his?

Tired of the silence, Hakuba finally decided to break it.

"Hattori," Hakuba began, his tone thoughtful, "I can't help but notice that you seem somewhat... weir— scratch that, you’ve always been weird.” He said as he fiddled with the wine glass’ stem. He coughed and continued what he was saying. “Well, I meant to say that you seem bored lately."

Hattori sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess.” He paused for a second before continuing. “Don't get me wrong, Haku, I love what we do. But sometimes it feels like there's something more I'm searching for. It feels empty inside here." He said as he placed his hand over his heart.

“Hm.” Hakuba wanted to tease Hattori for saying that but as he gazed over at him, he noticed the sincerity in his friend's eyes, the faint furrow in his brow showing a deeper sense of longing. So instead of teasing him, Hakuba adopted a more serious tone. "I understand, Hattori. It's natural to feel that way sometimes, especially when we're caught up in the routine of our work.” Hakuba leaned forward, his blue eyes gleaming with determination. "I believe I know precisely what you need, Hattori.”

“Hm?” Hattori looked at him. “You do?” He asked as Hattori nodded and smiled.

“What you're missing is someone to share your life with—a person you can love."

This got Hattori’s attention even more.

“A person I can.. love? I never thought of that before. My heart skipped a beat when you said it just now so I believe that you’re right.” Hattori chuckled as he came to this realization.

But then he slumped on his seat again, drink in hand. “But.. where can I even find love in the first place?” Hattori sighed again.

Hakuba smirked.

“I can help you with that.”

“Oh? Then pray tell.” Hattori sipped some of the wine before putting the glass back on the table.

“I have this friend in Tokyo. I believe he’s looking for someone too.” Hakuba smirked. “Don’t worry about getting along with him. He’s a detective too and has been solving crimes since high school, just like you. Moreover, I believe you have heard of him?” He said as Hattori just tilted his head, obviously confused.

“He was known as the Detective of the Eas—” He was cut off as Hattori started coughing. Worried by this sudden situation, Hakuba hurriedly grabbed a glass of water to hand it to him. Hattori drank it and calmed down.

“Are you alright?” Hakuba said as he sat back down.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m alright. I just can’t believe you’re friends with such a pretty big shot like him.” Hattori laughed, awkwardly.

“Did you just call him pretty? Have you guys ever even met?”

“Well, no. I just saw him in the news occasionally and thought he’s pretty. God forgives men who appreciate the beauty of other men.” Hattori rolled his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic. I didn’t mean it like that. Well, anyway. I'll get in touch with him and arrange a time for you both to meet up. Does that sound good?” Hakuba sipped some of the wine again.

Hattori nodded, slightly amused by their conversation. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Haku. I appreciate it."

Hakuba smiled, pleased that Hattori was on board with the idea. "No problem at all. I think you two will get along just fine. And who knows, maybe you'll even be able to work on a case together in the future."

The thought intrigued Hattori. Working alongside another skilled detective could prove to be both challenging and rewarding. "Yeah, that would be interesting. I'm looking forward to meeting him."

As they continued chatting, the evening wore on, filled with discussions about their respective detective work, shared cases, and the intricacies of solving mysteries.

~~

With Hakuba’s declaration, he set out to play matchmaker, determined to find the perfect ‘companion’ for his friend. He reached out to his friend from Tokyo, a young man named Kudo Shinichi, whom he believed would be an excellent match for Hattori.

He called him, one afternoon, and the other line immediately picked up.

“Hello? Hakuba-san? To what do I owe the honor?”

“Stop being so formal, Kudo-kun. We’ve known each other for a long time and I know you don’t act like this.” Hakuba bluntly said.

Shinichi laughed and said, “Stop being so serious, Haku-san. Then, what do you need me for?”

“Oh, well. I—  you said you’re looking for a date right?”

“Oh? Is this what I think it is? Are you offering yourself as my date? Hm, didn’t think you like me like tha—” Shinichi was cut off because Hakuba sensed the other was smirking, even though he couldn’t see him.

“No. It’s not me. It’s a friend of mine. He’s a detective too.”

Shinichi laughed at Hakuba’s blunt response.

“Well, I’m free anytime. Just text me when he’s available."

“Alright, I hope you two get along…. Oh wait, I forgot to tell him good luck with you..”

“Huh?! What do you mean by good luck with me? I am, like, the most kind and responsible person anyone will ever meet.” Shinichi huffed.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Hakuba said as he hanged up the phone without giving time for Shinichi to response.

~~

A week later, introductions were made, and from the moment Hattori and Shinichi met, there was an undeniable spark between them. (Hakuba immediately excused himself when the two walked into a cafe for their first date). They bonded over their shared interests, their conversations flowing effortlessly as they discovered more about each other.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as Hattori and Shinichi continued to grow closer. They spent countless hours together, exploring the city, solving mysteries, and simply enjoying each other's company.

Hattori found himself drawn to Shinichi's sharp wit and unwavering determination, while Shinichi admired Hattori's resilience and fearlessness in the face of danger.

Their partnership (dates) extended beyond mere crime-solving; they became each other's confidants, sharing their hopes, fears, and dreams late into the night. Hattori found solace in Shinichi's understanding nature, knowing that he was someone he could always turn to in times of need.

As Hattori's attention drifted further toward Shinichi, Hakuba couldn't shake the twinge of sadness that tugged at his heart. Each time he saw them together, laughing or solving cases to cases, Hakuba felt a pang of jealousy mixed with longing. 

He missed him. Hakuba missed his Hattori so much. He missed their late-night talks about cases and other things, and the competitive spirit that fueled their interactions. He missed the way Hattori talks, and moves, and the way Hattori gets excited whenever he talks about the books of his favorite author, Ellery Queen.

Trying to fill the void, Hakuba threw himself into his own investigations, but the thrill of solving puzzles, cases, and mysteries felt hollow without Hattori by his side.

One fateful day, as Hakuba was engrossed in deciphering a particularly complicated case, his phone rang. It was Hattori, his best friend who he hasn’t heard for weeks. His voice sounded excited.

“Ha-ku-ba-kun~ Guess whattt!!!”

“If you stopped screaming into my ears, then maybe I can guess it.”

“You’re as mean as ever”

“You deserve it.”

Hattori chuckled, “Well anyway, I have news!”

With a sinking feeling in his chest, Hakuba listened intently as Hattori revealed the news. His breath caught in his throat as Hattori confessed that he and Shinichi had decided to start dating.

For Hakuba, it was as if the world had come to a standstill. He felt a whirlwind of emotions coursing through him – surprise and a profound sadness that he couldn't quite comprehend. His mind raced as he tried to process the revelation.

He should have expected this, of course. He was the one who introduced the two men to each other because they were both looking for love. He knew that they had a lot in common, so it wouldn't be surprising to see them become close immediately.

He knew, of course, he knew.

But he hadn't anticipated they'd be together now even after only a year of knowing each other.

As Hattori spoke excitedly, telling his best friend all of what happened between him and Shinichi, Hakuba realized the depth of his own feelings. He had never fully acknowledged them before, burying them deep within his heart. But now, faced with the reality of Hattori being with someone else, Hakuba couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

Hakuba's chest tightened with a pang of sorrow, but he masked his true emotions behind a facade of happiness for his friend. "That's wonderful news, Hattori," he said, forcing a smile. "I'm truly happy for you both."

“Thank you so much, Haku. If it weren’t for you, we would have actually never met. I’ll make sure to make you my groomsman when Shinichi and I get married.” Hattori laughed, “Well, I gotta go now. I’ll see you around, Haku!”

As Hattori hung up the phone, Hakuba couldn't help but feel a sense of regret wash over him. He realized that his feelings for Hattori ran deeper than mere friendship—that perhaps when he helped Hattori find his happiness, he had overlooked his own desires.

Hakuba took a deep breath, steeling himself against the pain of unrequited love. He knew he had to let go, to find his own path forward without Hattori by his side. And as he grabbed a glass of wine (the same wine Hakuba and Hattori drank that evening), a sense of bittersweet acceptance settled over him, mingling with the echoes of what could have been.

Hii, I hope you had a great time reading that! Also this is an au where there's no conan and shinichi's personality is so much better than the 'before conan' in the original, if you get what i mean. also, shinichi and heiji is kinda ooc but erm thats alr, right?

[ewritesthangs]

Sugar Daddy! Pablo Scheiber x Reader

First installment of my Sugar daddy! Pablo Schreiber x Reader. I hope you enjoy, these things just come into my head and I want to share my creativity with readers all around. 

WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUTT, MATURE THEMES, MATURE LANGUAGE. 

You had met Pablo about three weeks prior to your date tonight with him. You were working as an on set medic for a new movie he was starring in. Pablo became infatuated with your beauty and you in general. 

As night fell upon the patrons of Vancouver, you and your best friend, who live together, were conversing about your upcoming date tonight. He sent you flowers today, along with 2 boxes. One box had a red satin mini dress and the other had authentic Louis Vuitton heels. You, of course, wore the outfit, looking rather delicious in the dress and heels. "Damn, Y/N I'd even fuck you in that attire." Y/BFF/N said with a giant smirk plastered across her devilish face. 

"Thank you, that is kinda the plan, Stan." You smirk, winking at her before gathering your stuff for the night.

"You got your implant, right?" 

"Like a month ago, where the fuck you been?" You chuckle and grab your light jacket, black in color. "I'll see you hopefully later. Or tomorrow. Who knows. I hope he doesn't kill me and just fucks me into oblivion." 

"Where did you come from?" 

"New found confidence in this thing." You spin around. The drive over to his hotel room was uneventful, except the wonderful performance you had put on for your stuffed hamster on your dashboard. 

You softly knock on the door. Was that too soft? You think to yourself before the door opens. 

Pablo takes a deep breath and smiles. "Y/N, you look ravishing." He was dressed in a "fancy" shirt which looked silky and some gray dress pants. 

"Well you don't look too bad yourself there, sweet cheeks." A nickname you have had for him since day one due to his charisma. You smirk and wink at him. 

His deep chuckle brings an alarming amount of joy to your being. One you had never experienced before meeting the incredibly tall man. 

"Please come in. Make yourself at home, dear." He steps aside to let you in. You saunter on in and he helps you take your jacket off and hangs it up. 

"Why thank you. Oh wow, nice room." You look around in awe, never really seeing this much luxury up close and personal. 

"Thank you. It's not too bad as a home away from home." You nod as you follow Pablo to his rather large kitchen compared to your small apartment kitchen. "Would you like some wine, my dear." He flashes you his beautiful smile. 

"Yes please." You smile back and grab the wine glass from him. "Fancy."

"Only the best for you, lovely." This statement made you blush. You take a sip of wine to deter from the blush. 

"I'm not that special." You say, causing Pablo to feign offense. 

"Y/N, you are the most special woman I have ever met."

"We met like three weeks ago."

"Time doesn't matter." 

"Philosophical. Impressive." 

"I try." He chuckles again. 

"So, Mister Schrieber, what is for dinner?"

"Homemade spaghetti and meatballs with a homemade bolognese." 

"Wait, you can cook too? What can't you do?" 

"Apparently 5th grade math." You both end up laughing at that comment. 

"Ready for dinner? I have something I am dying to talk to you about after dinner." 

"Oh? Yes I was ready when you said homemade." He serves you a hefty amount of food. 

"Eat up. I do not want you to be hungry." He winks and sits across from you. You guys engage in casual conversation as you devour the delicious food he had prepared. 

"Now, I am full. What is it that you would like to talk about?" You sip some wine. 

"I'd like for us to have a relationship of sorts. Now I don't exactly do the whole dating thing. Since my failed marriage I have tried to focus on my health and wellbeing as well as work and my kids. But I would love to be your sugar daddy." 

"Sugar daddy? Like you buy me things and I give you sex in return?" 

"Yes. I am quite wealthy, I want to spoil you, and I am infatuated by you," 

"Sugar. Daddy. Are there rules?" 

"I am the only one you are having sex with. I go by daddy." 

"Not many people like me enough to want to have sex with me." You shrug.  

"Well I do." He crosses his legs. 

"Okay. Yes." 

"Yes? Are you being serious?"

"A thousand percent." His excitement could not be contained at your confirmation. This was really what he wanted. 

"Would you like to start tonight?" You choke on the wine you were sipping. 

"Is that why you wanted me in this sexy dress?" 

"Maybe." He smirks. 

"Why not. I have been wanting to experience things with you. Why did I just say that out loud?" Maybe it was the wine getting to you. But you felt empowered with his words. 

"Good. Now I am usually a dominant male. I can have a submissive side when wanted. But tonight I am in charge." His voice got slightly deeper. This made your nether regions grow a little wet. You had a thing for deep voices. "Come." Pablo stands up and holds his hand out. You happily oblige. He takes you to his bed, pulling you close to him. His right hand goes to the back of your head and pulls your head to look up at him. "I don't usually do kissing either but your lips look so kissable." He gently kisses you at first to test the waters. Then he kisses more needingly. His lips were intoxicating. He pulls back and unzips your dress. "I want you naked, on the edge of the bed. Now, princess." You nod and give him a little show. He watches, biting his bottom lip. "Good girl." You lay at the edge of the bed. Pablo walks over to you and gets down to his knees. "I have wanted to taste you all night." His hands rub your calves then thighs before separating them. Exposing your freshly waxed sex. "Mmmm, someone was hoping for something to happen tonight."

"A girl can dream. But seems like the feeling was mutual." He hums before ever so slowly getting closer to your sex. Tantalizingly slow, to your dismay. You squirm under his gaze. 

"Patience, princess." He says softly before blowing some cool air onto your exposed clit. This made you shiver and moan. "You smell so sweet." He says before delving in. His tongue flicks your clit a few times before he sucks your clit into his mouth. Flicking his tongue as he suckles slightly. This makes you instantly arch your back and shut your eyes. The sweet sweet feeling of his amazing tongue on your swollen, neglected clit was all so much stimulation. A few breathy moans escape your lips and you rock your hips to his tongue wanting more friction. One of his hands rubs your thigh before he inserts two fingers into you. He pulls back to watch you. You look down to see his face glistening with your juices. In and out. In and out. Slow at first to you adjusted to his girthy fingers. He then picks up the pace. You bite your lip before throwing your head back. A soft little "Fuuuck." comes from your lips. 

"That's it baby, feel my fingers." He curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet, sweet g-spot. Your breath hitches and you rock your hips once more. 

"Ah yes." You moan out. He smirks, and halts his movements. Slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, causing you to whimper. 

"I want to be inside you when you come for me for the first time, princess." He stands up and undresses himself. Exposing his lengthy, girthy cock ready for you. "See what you do to me already, princess?" You sit up and nod. 

"Oh daddy, I need you right now. Please."

"Oh, begging already? Mmm such a sweet sweet sound." He licks his hand before pumping himself a few times. You lick your lips. He comes over to you. "Up on the bed more, princess." You scoot up onto the bed more, to which he follows. "You sure you're ready for all of this?" He smirks, you nod vigorously. "That's the spirit, princess." He dips his head down to kiss each tit before he slowly inserts himself. You gasp at his size but moan, it feeling good to have someone inside you after a few months of no action. He cradles your head with his arms as he starts his sweet, yet rough thrusts. You moan out loudly, louder than you ever have. But you didn't care, this man was making you feel good and people needed to know. 

"Ah oh fuck, yes." 

"That's it princess, feel me. Every little inch." He made sure you felt every inch of him. With every thrust. He knew how to take care of a woman. He rocks his hips into yours. "Say my name." 

"Daddy." You whisper. 

"Louder." His voice went dark almost. Very raspy.

"DADDY!" You moan out loudly. 

"That's it princess." He quickens the pace up slightly, feeling you clench and squirm ever so slightly. 

"I-i-i I'm close Daddy." You say, feeling the release rise up in your body, ready to release at any moment. 

He licks his hand before putting it between you two. He spits into his hand and rubs your clit, causing a whole other sensation to happen within you. You arch your back and rock your hips. "Cum for me princess, let me feel you all around me." That sent you over the edge. You pulsate around him, the feeling of euphoria raining over you as you cum all around him. A long, strangled moan comes from you, almost a scream. You needed that incredible release. You pant as he keeps thrusting into you, getting himself to the edge. "Princess, play with your tits." You were still in that just fucked stage of the aftermath, an afterwave of pleasure coming upon you. You begin to play with your tits, flicking and squeezing the nipple. He grunts and stills, a hot juice shooting into you. You moan. 

"That's it daddy." 

"You are incredible." He kisses your forehead before slowly pulling out. You both lay there panting. You were still dazed. 

"You weren't too bad, yourself." You manage to pant out. "Man I am out of shape." You say, once you have calmed down. Pablo just chuckles. 

"No you're not." He stands up and walks to what you think is the bathroom. You sit up, seeing him emerge with a towel. "Let me clean you up." He kneels again and pulls you to the edge. This caused a small squeak to come from you. He wipes you up, clean as can be. 

"Good thing I am on birth control." You smirk and giggle. 

"I saw the implant." 

"Well aren't you just observant." You caused him to chuckle again. 

"Would you like to spend the night? You look very tired from that good fucking." He asks, concerned you wont make it to your apartment. 

"I- yeah sure why not." You shrug, yawn and stretch. Pablo pulls the covers back for you to get in. You slowly crawl, tiredness having washed over you. He tucks you in, planting a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead. 

"Thank you princess." 

"For?" 

"Saying yes. And listening to my silent plea for you not to drive in your state of exhaustion." 

"Wine does tend to put me out after some activities." You yawn and snuggle into the man who now was laying next to you. He stiffened then relaxes, him finding an odd sense of comfort in your presence. 

"Get some rest, princess." He shuts off the bedside lamp, bringing you into the state of slumber. 

A/N:: Not my best work, things will hopefully get better. I hope y'all enjoy!

[oddinary4bts]

Yesssss post it pleaseee :)

Welpppp here it is under the cut, minors DNI as per usual, this is 18+

☆☆☆☆☆

The Forgotten Spaces | drabble (jjk)

☆warnings: drinking wine, mentions of smoking, one of laura's friends is a bitch, explicit content: fingering (mentions), jerking off

☆word count: 1.9k

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, August 13th

When Laura asked to hang out with her friends this weekend, Jungkook didn’t think it meant this: a nice restaurant outing with three other couples, all of them being people he doesn’t know. He didn’t expect he’d have to sit through an interrogation either. Laura’s best friend, Peyton, seems to think that there’s something fishy about him and, frankly, she’s starting to get on his nerves.

“So you tell me you’ve never noticed Laura before she texted you?” Peyton asks, one perfectly drawn eyebrow cocked.

Jungkook shoots a look to Laura, but she’s busy talking to the two other girls, while James, Peyton’s boyfriend is scrolling on his phone. The two other guys went for a smoke, and they have yet to return.

Now, Jungkook is an introvert. He loves parties, loves meeting new people, but only when he’s surrounded by the people that make him comfortable. Which, usually, means he tags along or forces Jimin to come with him wherever he goes. Needless to say, he feels far from at ease right now, and he’s already thinking about the game of Overwatch he’ll play when he’ll be back home.

Sooner than later, hopefully. Because he really needs to snipe a couple of heads at the moment.

“Well,” he says, and he gulps under Peyton’s inquisitive gaze. “I knew she was in my class, but we just never really talked before.”

“Why did you start talking then?”

Peyton is a bitch. She is. Jungkook hates her, hates the way she’s been watching his every move all night.

“She asked for help on her new camera because she knew I have the same model from a project we had last semester,” Jungkook explains, and he looks at Laura again, begging for salvation.

Laura ignores him, too busy with her current conversation.

“And what, four weeks later you’re a couple?” Peyton asks, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms on her chest. “You move fast.”

Jungkook is speechless. Speechless, as his treacherous little thoughts run back to the cottage. He clenches his jaw, looking down at the empty plate in front of him. A glass of wine is standing next to the plate, but he has yet to taste it. He figures now’s a good time as any, and he takes a long sip, letting the heavy robe of the red wine roll on his tongue before he swallows.

“Seems so,” he finally says. “It just worked well.”

“That’s great,” Peyton replies, and for the first time it doesn’t sound as aggressive. She lowers her tone, leaning towards him. “She really likes you, you know? She’s had a crush on you for like a year.”

Jungkook gulps, and he hides it behind another sip of wine. “Yeah?” he lets out when he’s put the glass next to the empty plate again. “What about it?”

“Do you not even care?” Peyton asks, and the venom is back.

“I mean, yes I do,” he quickly says. His gaze is a little widened when he looks at Laura this time, and she brushes a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. It makes her notice him looking, and their gazes connect for a few seconds before she turns back to her friend on her other side. “I do care,” he says more forcefully as he turns back towards Peyton.

“Leave the poor guy alone,” James tells Peyton as he turns off his phone and puts it face down on the table. “You’ve been harassing him.”

Peyton and James start bickering, and it finally brings the girl’s attention away from Jungkook, who breathes a sigh of relief as he slumps back in his chair.

Halfway through the meal, Laura talks to him for the first time since they’ve sat down. She asks if she can have some of his fries. He nods, because he hasn’t really been hungry, and she smiles brightly before grabbing one.

“Are you having fun?” she then asks, moving closer to him, cutting her friends out of the conversation. “I’ve noticed Peyton interrogating you earlier.”

His throat feels dry, and the sip of wine he takes only makes it worse. “Yeah, she was a little… intense.”

“She’s my best friend, she probably just wanted to do her best friend duties, you know?”

He does. And he could have done without it, or at least with some support from Laura. But he says nothing, just offers his girlfriend a small smile that has pink tinting her cheeks. She’s cute like this, and he feels himself relax a little.

“If you want, we can bail after dessert,” Laura proposes, and he doesn’t miss the way she suggestively looks down at him, a small smirk on her lips.

A smirk slowly moves on his own lips, even though he fully knows he’s not going to have sex with her tonight. Nothing stops him from teasing her though, right?

“Oh, can we now?” he flirts, leaning even closer to her. “You’ve got something in mind?”

“Well…” she trails off, and her gaze lights up with mischief. “Maybe.”

Her eyes are blue. Extremely pale, like the colour of the summer afternoon sky in the distance. They always shine a little, and he always finds it a little startling. They’re a little darker now, and he knows she’s horny.

“I’d like that,” he teases, and he brushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, the same one that keeps falling in her eyes.

And that’s how Jungkook finds himself seated on the passenger seat of Laura’s car later on, as she drives back towards the house. He has no intention of inviting her in – he still craves that Overwatch game – but when she puts a hand on his thigh, he quickly grabs it and interlaces their fingers.

She whines, softly, and he lets out a chuckle.

“Something wrong?” he asks her.

“I want you, JK,” she answers, and it’s a lot more straightforward than she has ever been with him. She usually backs off when it comes to flirting or saying stuff like that, so Jungkook can’t help the tightening in his lower stomach.

He’s a man, and Laura is attractive. He’s bound to get horny by her saying she wants him, right?

“Do you?” he asks, and he puts her hand on the console between them before reaching for her thigh.

She’s wearing a skirt, and he lets his fingers trail up and up, teasing her. And when she parks on the side of the road, ten minutes away from home, he does finger her, feeling like he’s doing something incredibly wrong. He tries to convince himself that it’s because anyone can see them, and it works – a little.

She comes without sensing his unease, and when she tries to reach for him, he gently swats her hand away. “Not tonight,” he tells her. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

She throws him a gaze heavy with lust, but she says nothing, turning the engine of the car back on. As she drives, Jungkook cleans his hand with a tissue, and he ignores the glances she throws his way. She doesn’t say anything until they stop in front of his house, and the sigh she lets out almost make him feel guilty.

“Why don’t you want me to make you feel good?” she asks. “I really want you, JK.”          

His heart constricts in his chest. “I know, sweetheart.” He hopes the pet name will throw her off, and it does.

She chuckles lightly. “Sweetheart? Since when do you call me sweetheart?”

Crisis avoided? Jungkook will have to thank his stars for it.

“Since I made you come in your car, mmh?” he says, smirk on display.

She laughs her pretty laugh, before saying, “Gosh, I can’t believe we did that.”

“I’m irresistible, what can I say?”

She looks at him with a slightly annoyed expression, before shaking her head. “You are. That’s why I want to have sex with you.”

Crisis not avoided after all it seems.

“Is there a reason why you don’t want to have sex with me?” she enquires, with a tiny voice. It sounds higher pitched than it usually does, and Jungkook is not sure he likes it.

“Should I make you come again then?” he asks, trying to avoid having to mention the accident because, frankly, he’s not ready to tell her.

Not just yet.

“No, I’m serious,” she says, whiny again. “Is it because of an ex?”

Jungkook freezes because, even though it has nothing to do about you, you still invade his thoughts, and something aches deep down. He sees your heart breaking in your eyes all over again, and he has to take a long breath to calm down.

“Trust me, it is not,” he says, sighing once more. “But yes, there’s something. It has nothing to do with you though.”

It’s as close as he’ll get to mentioning the accident, because he really doesn’t want Laura to think it might be because of you.

Not that you were an ex anyway.

“What is it?” Laura asks, voice back to its normal tone. “If you want to talk about it?”

He sighs, leaning his head against the headrest. He holds her gaze for a few seconds, and one of his hands mindlessly moves to the scar on his knee. “Not right now,” he tells her. “Not after I’ve just made you come, it’d be weird.” He chuckles, even though she’s looking at him weirdly. “What about over a cup of coffee at that café you like next weekend?”

“In a week?” is what she chooses to answer.

“You told me you’ll be busy all week,” he reminds her.

She seems to remember because the corners of her lips fall in a small pout. “Right.”

There’s a silence, and Jungkook glances at the door of the house. He really can’t wait to be inside.

“Then…” she trails off. She sighs, before continuing, “I’ll let you go.”

He offers her what he hopes is a sweet smile. “Thank you for driving me home. Hope the orgasm told as much.”

She swats his arm, letting out a small laugh. “It was.” He’s pretty sure she’s blushing saying that, but the neon lights make it hard to tell. He’s opening the car door when she speaks up again. “And JK?”

He turns towards her, one leg already out of the car. “Mmh?”

“Whatever it is… I hope you’re okay.”

He’s only partly lying when he answers, “I am”.

Yet the conversation haunts him all night, so much so that he gets four losses straight in Overwatch, something that hasn’t happened to him in a long time. He curses at his monitor, calling the game a dead game, before sitting back in his chair.

If gaming won’t help, then maybe he can do something else. He pulls up a porn website, mindlessly searches for a video that’ll fit, though he knows as soon as he’ll have his hand wrapped around his cock he’ll close his eyes. He’s more of a listener than a watcher anyway when it comes to porn.

He isn’t wrong – the moment he’s pulled his pants down and he’s started to stroke his dick, his eyes flutter shut.

And then you’re there, obstinately haunting him, and his arousal makes him forget about his frustration for a time, until he comes and feels disgusted with himself.

Maybe it really is time he buries himself deep inside of someone else.

[joeyquinndrabz]

Pints over wine- Joseph Quinn x Reader

TW: idk alcohol ig? fluff cause I broke you guys with the last one, sorry bout that love you all xoxoxo

“Guinness please!” You called over to your friend as he asked you what you wanted from the bar. You were never one for fancy cocktails or expensive bottles of wine, you’d grown up going to pubs with your family so a shandy was slipped your way at the age of 11 and it soon lost the lemonade component as you reached 16. You loved beer, larger, sometimes the occasional cider. But you tried to change it up and Guinness was a new one for you, trying it in the city of the drink itself, Dublin. None of your fellow female friends were one for beer and it was always a good conversation starter between men in the smoking area who were in amazement they found a girl who likes beer. Slightly sexist but you were 6 pints in by the time these conversations took place so you tend to let it slide, too drunk to give a shit.

The drinks began flowing and so did the laughter, your friends had all made a point to make the Dog And Duck your local and you were well and truly regulars at this point. It was a perfect mix of modern and old, whether it be its interior or the people inside alike. It was a staple in your weekly routine and you couldn’t imagine socialising anywhere else.

“I’m going for a smoke I’ll be back in a bit.” You announced before picking up your pint and heading outside. There was a decent amount of people in the pub but because of the cold, winter weather there was no one outside which was a shame because you enjoyed your drunken conversations with fellow smokers. Sitting at a spare chair n table , you began to pull out your baccy and papers before realising you’d left your filters at home. You groaned loudly and your drunken self took this hard, all you wanted was a cigarette or two to pair with the drink in-front of you. Sulking down in your seat and crossing one arm over your chest, you reached for your drink and gulped a considerable amount down.

The door to the pub opened and out came a man in his mid-twenties, baccy and papers in hand. He noticed your presence and gave you what appeared to be a genuine smile. “Alright.” He nodded before putting his own pint down on the table next to yours. “No.” You mumbled with pouted lips. “No?” He questioned with a chuckle as he began to roll a cigarette for himself, sitting at the table next to you. “I left my filters at home.” You grunted, sipping your drink with a pout still prominent. “Oh darling that’s not good.” He commented before pulling out two strips of filters and putting them next to your packet of baccy that’d been abandoned on your table. Your eyes lit up and your mouth went from pouting to a beaming smile. “Oh my god thank you thank you thank you!” The man laughed and shook his head in astonishment at how a couple filters could make someone so happy. “You’re more than welcome sweetheart, im sorry they’re menthol.” You smiled and you were the one shaking your head this time. “No no no it’s fine I smoke menthol too!” You giggled and began rolling a cigarette, a long awaited cigarette. “That’s what I like to hear! And you’re drinking Guinness too.” He pointed his own pint of Guinness towards you before taking a gulp. “I love Guinness it’s my new fixation.” You commented before licking the sticky strip of the paper and completing the roll.

“You’re so cool! Where have you been this whole time? Most women I meet when I’m out here are drinking wine and turn their nose up when I pull out menthol filters.” He explained as he patted his pockets for his lighter. “Really? No, I’ve been smoking menthol for years! And you’ve got the pop filters, 10/10.” You chuckled as you took an inhale, taking in the mystery man’s panic as he couldn’t find a lighter. “Need a light?” You asked whilst offering him your lighter which he accepted. “Thanks love, looks like we’re both forgetting things today.”

You both chuckled and began small talk about London and who you were there with. “I’m Joe by the way, sorry I should’ve introduced myself properly. Got a bit distracted.” Joe scratched the back of his neck before looking over at you sheepishly. “Don’t worry I’m at fault too, I’m y/n.” You stuck your hand out for him to shake, he chuckled to himself before reaching out his hand to meet yours. “You look like a y/n.” He pointed towards you with his cigarette this time, he was very expressive with his hands and it was something you did too. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You questioned with a cackle, you were really enjoying his presence he was very likeable. “It’s a cool name! N’ you seem pretty cool yourself so it just makes sense.” He explained, tilting his head and laughing along with you. “You seem pretty cool yourself Joe.” You smiled and turned to meet his sweet smile. “I’m glad you think so, I’m really enjoying myself right now y/n.” He admitted after stubbing his cigarette out.

“So am I.”

“Want another one?”

“Go on then.”

[jess-le-mess]

Feedist Kinktober - Day 27

(Prompts: Boozy Belly 🍺 / Dragon's Hoard 🐉)

[Content notes: Fat FtM main character; Thin nonbinary love interest; M/Nb attraction dynamics; belly play; mild intoxication]

Game Night

Flynn loved his tabletop gaming group dearly. He'd met the core members when he was still  in Engineering school, and not a single one of them at the time had said anything bad or weird about his transition. Now, four years later, and a few of them were out too as various things. A couple of the guys, Kyle and Oliver, had come out as gay, and Dana had come out as a woman.

And then there was Duane, bless him, who was cis and straight and often forgot that Flynn was trans and called him "big bro" despite the fact that, although Flynn did have a few inches and at least a hundred pounds on him, Duane was like forty or something.

Tonight Dana was hosting. She and her wife lived in a manse, which she enjoyed telling new group members every time and assuring them that she "thoroughly witchified it" with a smirk.

She greeted Flynn wearing a cute little sundress that accentuated her petite figure, and gestured for him to head to the dining room-slash-gaming table.

"Vivian made miniature pop tarts for tonight, Flynn. Do you like miniature pop tarts?"

Flynn shrugged. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen a miniature pop tart.

"Good man," she said, patting him on the back. "They're cherry filled."

As they headed into the dining room, Flynn spotted a new face. The new person had short dark hair combed off to the side, wearing a red flannel and a black tank top. They looked to be in their mid-20s.

"That's Eli," Dana said. "They were on the Pride planning committee with me this summer."

Eli offers a wave. "Hey."

Flynn takes the empty seat next to Eli. "I'm Flynn."

"Cool. Nice to meet you. So Dana says you're an engineer too?"

"Yep. IT. And you?"

Eli laughs. "Hell no. I like to think of my career as being more gay disaster, terror to gender everywhere. Something like that." They take a sip of their beer. "And by that I mean I'm an event planner."

Eli smiled at Flynn and looked into his eyes for a second, and Flynn couldn't help but feel a bit flustered. Eli's skin looked so clear and soft, a nice contrast to their sharp jawline and visible cheekbones. He wanted to touch it, if he was being honest with himself.

Flynn takes the beer handed to him by Dana and opens it. He takes a sip, in motion with Eli. "That must be interesting, though."

"It is what it is, I guess," Eli shrugs.

Flynn frowns at the apparent end of the conversation, wishing he'd had more courage or at least affability to keep talking to this person.

The first board game they played was some game where people had to draw pictures that could only be of adjectives that could be used to describe the thing, but not the thing itself.

Flynn's partner was Jade, Dana's best friend. But Flynn had already had two beer by this point, and Jade had already had half a bottle of wine.

"Goddammit Flynn, it's not a hockey stick! Hockey stick isn't even an adjective! Dana, why can't I be your partner?" Jade whined.

Dana waved at her and squeezed her wife's hand. "Sorry bestie. Viv and I have a mind link."

Jade slumped down in her chair.

Unsurprisingly, Flynn and his partner came last.

*****

The second game was some trivia thing and Flynn was paired up with Kyle, who knew everything about everything.

It was mostly smooth sailing for them, thankfully. Flynn had probably have five beer by then, but Kyle didn't drink so he was in fine form. At least until they ended up with a question about music history and Vivian, a muscular butch who was at least six feet tall, threatened to cut him if she didn't give him the point. Kyle refused to relent, but his answer was wrong anyway.

In the end, they won the game, even if Vivian did silently signal that she still had her eyes on Kyle.

*****

As Flynn had lost count of how many beer he'd had by this time, he figured it was maybe more than he should've had, but he was paired with Eli for the third game, that much he did know.

The game itself involved a dragon in some way. You had to steal things from the dragon, and get them...somewhere? For reasons?

Eli was really pretty.

Shit, though. Did they like being called pretty? Flynn knew firsthand the power of a gender-affirming compliment. He'd die if someone called him pretty, but getting called handsome, rare as it happened, could sustain him for days.

"You look good," Flynn said, the words rolling out of his mouth.

"Hmm?" Eli looked at him, his eyes a bit dazed-looking. He'd probably had a few too many too.

"I dunno. Pick the term you like to use. But, like, you look so good. I want to touch your face."

There was a pause.

"You too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Flynn felt the warmth of Eli's hand touching his cheek. He leaned into it, until the pressure again left him. "That was nice."

Eli then whispered in his ear, making the hairs on his neck bristle. "Hey, can I?"

Flynn had no idea what Eli was talking about until they put a hand on his large belly that rested on his thighs.

He nodded quietly.

Eli made happy noises as he reached underneath Flynn's T-shirt and quietly massaged Flynn's belly for a moment until stopped when Dana looked over at them.

"I mean, we're both pretty wasted, huh?"

"Yeah," Flynn said, his whole body suddenly feeling warm and alive from Eli's touch.

"We probably shouldn't."

"Yeah."

Eli whispered again. "But I would."

"Yeah?"

"Oh hell yeah," Eli said, slipping his hand under Flynn's shirt again, just for a second, before getting back to the game.

[selenacosmic]

Romance in the office.

Chapter 19- The truth.

I believe it’s already very obvious that I dislike drinking alcohol of any kind, so being in a bar where I am supposed to talk to a guy that loves drinking sake is awkward.

… maybe I should rephrase that.

I have known kenshin for a very short time, he would rarely come to the company to have lunch, while also asking (more like ordering) shingen to join him in fencing. I remember vividly that shingen would refuse, apparently Kenshin liked using real swords instead of fake ones. From this amount of knowledge I have of him, I can tell he is hard to communicate with and a bit… aggressive with how he approaches other people.

And what exactly am I trying to say with this? I barely know him, I don’t know how exactly i should approach kenshin to learn more about shingen. It was clear Yoshimoto wanted me to learn more about him through Kenshin.

I gave Yoshimoto a quick glance, silently begging for his help. He brought me here, after all. He only gave me a thumbs up while drinking a glass of wine. Yeah, I am on this alone…

“So… I heard you know shingen very well.” Kenshin arched his eyebrow, his unimpressed look sure made me more nervous than usual. “Do you guys come here very often?” Maybe I should start with small conversation. I tried my best to ignore his constant glare and get closer.

“We do.” Was all he said before chucking down a whole glass of sake. What an engaging conversation…

“It is a tradition for us to often meet up at this bar, though we are a larger group.” Yoshimoto finally said something, likely to help me start a proper conversation with kenshin.

“And yet those fools decided to not come today.” Was kenshin’s grumpy response. If he didn’t look like he was constantly angry, I would say he was pouting right now.

“Well, it isn’t very common to come drink at a bar during daytime, right?” I was a bit scared my question would make him even grumpier, but Kenshin didn’t seem angry.

“It is never a strange time to come to drink at a bar, unless it is a Friday.” His response was not at all what I was expecting. But honestly, who cares. I managed to start a conversation.

“You know most of them are busy with work, poor Yuki is likely going crazy now that he has more work to do.” Yoshimoto casually commented, which made kenshin grow still for a second before looking at me. Part of me thinks Yoshimoto did this on purpose.

“So, that’s why you are here. That fool pushed you away earlier than I expected.” Wait… what does he mean by that?

Just the way that was phrased, Kenshin was predicting this situation of happening. What exactly have I been missing? “Pushed me away earlier than you expected?”

He nodded, sipping on his drink while looking away “It’s something he does, he really thinks he is doing others a favor by doing so.” That… actually made a lot of sense, shingen seemed like a man that cared more about others’ feelings rather than his own. But what I can’t get around my mind is why was he planning to push me away? What was the point of having me acting as his lover all this time? This bit of information did help me a bit with the puzzle I had in my mind of the whole picture of this situation. But, just like with any other puzzle, put one part together and get tons of new problems to solve.

“Why would he do that? None of this would have happened if he didn’t make that agreement with me.” My impatience was clear, I was done with being left in the dark.

Kenshin put his glass down, not with a lot of force but just enough to make an impact on the table. He turned to look at me, his eyes cold but definitely not a glare anymore “I have known Shingen since we were young, though he was older than me, he was already like this. Despite being insufferable, he was smart.”

I stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt kenshin while he talked about their past. I believed that if I did, i would never get this opportunity again.

“I cannot tell you much, but I can tell you this. A lot of his current actions have to do with his animosity towards his grandfather. That stupid story of a spy, was rubbish.” His words felt like a wake up call, but it didn’t seem much as a surprise now. If it wasn’t the spy…

“What was it, then? He definitely had a reason as to why he needed me acting as his girlfriend.”

He took a moment to answer me, looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed. It wasn’t a glare though, kenshin seemed more conflicted about telling me the truth.

“… It was for distraction. That idiot couldn’t bother to be honest, likely because he didn’t want to drag you further into this mess. Now I can’t say much about the rest, only family can.” Kenshin got up as he talked, briefly paying the bartender “if those two won’t come, then I am going after them.”

“Try not to cause a ruckus this time, Yukimura got very angry last time.” Yoshimoto casually waved at Kenshin as he went away, my attention turned towards him.

“So… are you going to tell me the whole story now? You sure took a long time to do that.” He could have told me all of that, so I was curious why drag kenshin into this.

Yoshimoto gently set his glass on the table, a much calmer approach when compared to before “I had two reasons. One is that you could use some friends.” Ouch.. I do have friends, i just so happen to be busy at work “don’t take this as an insult, you barely ever interact with us when we would have lunch together. Kenshin may seem rough, but he is a good friend to have.”

“And your second reason is? If possible, I don’t need any more criticism.” He was right, though. At the company, I was only close to him, shingen and Yukimura. But oh well, another social aspect I needed to work on, make friends.

“My second reason was that kenshin knows shingen without any bias. I do not have any right to criticize or call my cousin out, not after all the help he has provided me.” I could tell Yoshimoto spoke those words with affection, he truly cared about shingen.

“I know my cousin’s actions were strange, and quite unnecessary. But he has reasons. And if he isn’t going to tell you, then it should be right that I do that.” Hearing from both Kenshin and Yoshimoto perspectives might help me understand the situation better, so I was open to his explanation. And also… because I don’t want to stay angry at shingen without knowing everything.

Yoshimoto’s gaze turned into a nostalgic one as he began to talk “Shingen was brought into the family at a very young age, it was right after his mother died. My uncle wanted him to inherit our family’s business, so he was raised as an heir. You could say that he didn’t have much of a childhood after coming to our family.” Those words reminded me of our date at the amusement park. Shingen was always melancholic when remembering his childhood, I felt sympathy for him.

“If I am being honest, shingen always seemed like the perfect heir. He was always smart and charismatic, he took a lot of his learnings from The art of war, by sun Tzu. I… was nothing when compared to him.” I noticed his eyes held sadness in them at those words, i unconsciously placed my hand on his shoulder.

“Yoshimoto, you don’t have to tell me something that makes you uncomfortable. If telling me this brings you pain, I..-“

“No, it’s alright. I have come a long way since then, shingen being the main reason why I still stand here with a smile.” His hand was placed over my own, he smiled softly to reassure me “it was the truth as well, I was never made to inherit such a large business. Which is why Shingen decided to place the burden all onto himself, I still try to help with what I can, but he takes most of the weight.”

“From my time working there, I am sure Shingen appreciates your help.” I smile at him, I didn’t want Yoshimoto to put himself down when he was a very talented and capable man.

“Regardless of that… there are things that I cannot help him with. His father had died many years ago, which made his grandfather the one in charge of raising him. You would think that old man would leave his grandson live his life after reaching 30…” my curiosity peaked, shingen had also mentioned having trouble with his family.

“His grandfather… kenshin also talked about him. What did he do to make shingen do what he did?” My words made Yoshimoto become tense, he also seemed to dislike him. I have noticed how he would say ‘his’ grandfather instead of ‘our’.

“He had organized for shingen to have an arranged marriage.” Those words made everything clearer now, I froze at the revelation.

To be continued…

[someonefantastic]

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” For vacation au cangel 💗

This took forever to finish because for some reason instead of writing a, you know, drabble for some reason I chose to write the entire first date scene which turned out to be over 2k words. I swear I'm nearly incapable of writing something short for this fandom smh

Anyway this is a sequel to this fic and basically the premise of this au is that everyone is human, there's no supernatural elements, and Cordelia and Angel meet while on respective vacations

___

The flurry of butterflies in Cordelia's stomach have officially upgrades to bats--and she's pretty sure they're waging a war. To say she's nervous for her dinner date with Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Frosted-Tips is an understatement; she's been jittery all evening prompting some lighthearted jabs from Faith and Fred. It's like she's in high school, except Queen C never really got nervous on her dates so maybe it's more like she's about to do an audition for a very successful producer. Either way, she's nervous and she's not really sure why.

The elevator dings and she takes a deep breath, smoothing out the long light gray skirt of her dress. Giving herself one last glance in the elevator's reflective surfaces, she pulls her shoulders back and strides out into the lobby.

She spots Angel almost immediately and her heart immediately picks up it's pace. She could never forget how pretty he is but if she did, the sight of him standing there in a navy button up that hugs his form perfectly and dark jeans is a very good reminder. The smile that spreads across his face as he spots her threatens to turn her insides to jelly and she gives him a wave as she crosses the lobby.

"Hi."

"Hi," he greets back, eyes leaving her face for a moment to scan down her dress. "You look beautiful."

She feels her cheeks grow warm. "Thank you. And you look very handsome yourself."

His smile simply grows and she decides that it's right up there with the sunset and the Grand Canyon for most beautiful sights she's ever seen.

He offers her his arm and she automatically takes it. "Shall we?"

"Oh yes please. I'm starving."

He chuckles as they head to the resort's dining area.

___

Dinner goes off really well. Cordelia can't remember the last time she had this much fun with a guy but they've barely stopped talking since they sat down. Well, to be honest, it's been mostly her talking and him listening but he's been asking her so many questions about herself that it feels sort of unavoidable--after all she is chatty. But he seems to be enjoying himself and she certainly knows that she is so she really hopes this is going well by all accounts.

"So, Angel," She says when there's a lull in the conversation, "We've talked so much about me but I want to know more about you. Like what do you do for a living? Or what brings you here?"

He swallows the steak he's been chewing--he likes it rare and to be honest, she finds that a little weird, but it's definitely not a deal breaker. "I work at a law firm, leading the security team. I don't love it but it pays the bills. And I'm here because my friend--you might've not noticed him but he was playing basketball with me. Was wearing orange shorts." An amused smile pulls at Cordelia's lips as she thinks of Fred. "He knows a guy who works here and managed to get us a good deal." Picking up a knife, he starts cutting into his steak. "I've been so busy with work and felt like I wasn't around Connor nearly enough so--" He stops mid sentence, knife halfway through the meat and gives her a guilty look. "Oh."

Eyebrows creasing, Cordelia puts down the wine glass she was about to sip from. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I just... I never know when or how to bring this up. I'm still so new to this and..." He trails off and Cordelia's brain fills with countless worst case scenarios. Angel takes a deep breath. "I have a son."

The scenarios freeze and dissipate in the blink of an eye. "Oh?"

He nods, a little uncertain. "His name is Connor, he's five." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his wallet and flips it open to reveal a picture of him--sans frosted tips--and a little boy with dirty blonde hair and a grin that reminds her of Angel's.

Cordelia feels a smile spread across her face. "He's adorable."

Angel nods his head, practically beaming with pride. "He is. He's going into first grade this year and he already knows all of the alphabet and is starting to read!" His eyes light up as he talks and Cordelia finds herself captivated. "He's really smart and he's athletic too. You should've seen him on his junior hockey team, one game he scored three goals." Stopping himself, he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get carried away."

"No, don't apologize." She gives him a soft smile, covering the hand he has resting on the table with hers. "Your son sounds wonderful and it's really sweet hearing you talk about him. You really love him."

"I do," He says fondly, his eyes going far away. "His mother and I... well we were never good together and it didn't end well. She's no longer in the picture."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was for the best. And well, Connor? He's the best thing to ever happen to me."

Scratch his smiles, the sincerity and love in his voice and written across his face is absolutely breathtaking.

"That's why I'm on this vacation," He continues, "I wanted to spend more time with Connor and give him cool experiences. It's what he deserves."

She squeezes his hand. "That's really sweet." A thought strikes her and she frowns. "Why are you here with me then? You should be with your son."

He ducks his head. "Is it bad if I say I needed a break from him?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "Not at all. This girl at work has kids and she once told me a big reason why she chose to return to work was to get out of the house every once in a while, so I get it." A playful smile dances across her lips. "Is that your only reason though...?"

With a smirk, he grasps her hand and lifts it to his lips. "Not at all. I saw you sitting by the pool and nearly got hit in the head with a basketball." She chuckles at the image, her stomach flipping, though not unpleasantly. "I'm very glad you agreed to dinner."

"So am I," She says softly, warmth bubbling inside of her. Tearing her eyes away from her face, she returns to her meal, cutting off a piece of her scallops. "So, if you're on this date with me, where's Connor?"

"He's with his uncles." She glances at him, prompting him to explain, "I came on this trip with a few of my friends. There's Gunn--it's his last name--he's the guy I mentioned before. He works security with me. Then Wesley, it's a long story how I know him but he works at the museum where I'm from archiving old books or something. And then Doyle, who's like my brother. Youo might've seen him on the court as well, Wesley was watching Connor during his nap time." He takes a sip of his wine. "They all agreed to look after him so I could be here with you."

"Well tell them I say thank you. They sound like great guys."

"Yeah I really appreciate them." His glass clinks softly against his plate as he sets it down. "What about your friends? They seemed interesting."

"That's one way of putting it," She says with a snort. "I met Faith in high school through a girl we both knew but we didn't really become friends until later on in our lives. She did time a few years back, it's not really my story to tell, but once she got out she started a non-profit helping kids to get off of the streets. I help her out." Taking another bite of scallops, she continues, "And then I met Fred when I accidentally signed up for what I thought was an all inclusive retreat but turned out to be five days in the mountains taking care of some woman's farm." They both laugh. "We certainly bonded."

"Seems like it," he says shoulders still shaking.

"They're good friends even though Faith has less of a filter than I do."

He hums around his bite of steak. "Good to know."

They lapse into comfortable silence, eating their respective meals and occasionally sneaking glances at the other. But a tightness wraps itself around Cordelia's spine, fear manifesting itself physically at the possibility of vulnerability, at the realization of how relaxed she feels around this man in such a short amount of time. She doesn't know him, not truly, and yet she wants to with such a fierce desire that it scares her. Not only that but she wants him to know her as well, to let him strip her bare of her defenses, allow him to crawl inside her skin and know the parts of her she's kept on lock from everyone else.

It's a terrifying thought to realize how much she wants this and more importantly, just how much he could hurt her if she let him.

Swallowing down her anxieties with a gulp of wine, she levels her gaze at Angel. A smile slips across her lips at the crease in his brow as he concentrates on cutting his steak, her heart fluttering at the tensing muscles in his hand. And she decides right then and there that she won't let him hurt her--but she also won't let her fears get in the way of getting to know this beautiful man.

___

By the time dinner--followed by dessert and a walk around the resort--is over, the moon is high in the sky and those still awake have gathered at the bars and other places with nightly activities. The hallway to Cordelia's suite is quiet though, the only sound is the soft elevator ding and the scuffing of footsteps as Cordelia and Angel make their way to the door.

They walk hand in hand, bodies so close together that their shoulders bump occasionally. The door gets closer and the bats in Cordelia's stomach become tiny vampires, gnawing away at her insides. Part of her doesn't want this night to end, to be honest it's the most enjoyable date she's had in a very long time. Talking with Angel feels like talking to an old friend; there's an ease and a comfort to their conversations, a rhythm that they found so quickly that just feels natural. She genuinely enjoys being with him--something she can't say for very many of her past relationships.

As they stop in front of her room, the other part of her waits in nervous anticipation for how this night is going to end.

"Well, this is me," She says, glancing at her room number as her body turns to face him. "How much do you want to bet my friends are in the living room just waiting to ambush me?"

He chuckles. "My friends probably will do the same."

"Why do we put up with them?" She asks teasingly.

He laughs again and ducks his head. A silence spreads between them, tense and exciting, wrought with anticipation and the pounding of Cordelia's heart. She watches him study his shoes, shift back and forth, as if gathering up the courage. It's cute how shy he's being but the silence stretches on one second too long and she can't help the sigh she heaves.

"Well? Aren't you going to kiss me?"

His head snaps up and his cheeks go red, one hand moving to run through his frosted tips. "Well-I-I didn't want to assume. I really like you and I didn't want to mess--"

He's abruptly cut off as Cordelia surges forward and firmly presses her mouth against his.

Angel relaxes almost instantly, his hands finding her hips and gently holding on. She palms his face, kissing him softly, tenderly, but without an ounce of hesitation, like walking into a pool for the first time and feeling the cool waters slowly warm. His skin is soft beneath her hands, lips like ambrosia and when he parts them slightly her head spins.

She pulls back before it can go any further, before she breaks all carefully crafted defenses and invites him in for something she hasn't done on a first date since high school. But she already mourns the loss, her mouth tingling with the ghost of his kiss and she steps back, letting her hands drop from his face before she can give into the temptation to press her lips hard against his and never come up for air again.

His hands remain on her hips for half a second more, thumbs running slow circles against the satin of her dress and then he lets go, looking at her with wonder and warmth, his cheeks pink.

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” She teases gently, voice coming out soft, nearly breathless.

He smiles, not a large beaming grin or a gentle quirk of his lips but a soft curve that she longs to run her fingertips across. "I hadn't realized just how much I wanted to kiss you."

She feels warmth bloom in her chest and spread up her neck, flushing her face. "Me too."

"I should let you get some sleep," he says hesitantly, like it's the opposite of what he really wants. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." And then, without thinking, she presses up on her toes and kisses him once more. "Goodnight, Angel."

His voice sounds breathless, wistful. "Goodnight, Cordelia."

[multirptrash]

Uhura’s leg flinched a little under the table at the touch, but she swallowed it back down. She may have gone on more dates than Christine did, but she was as genuinely interested in meeting someone else as her friend was…which was to say not at all.

She used getting a sip of her drink as an excuse to take her hand away from his. He really did seem like a sweet guy, and he was good-looking, but he wasn’t Jim.

A traitorous, intrusive and unwanted voice whispered in the back of her mind, And what do you think Jim is doing? For all you know, he’s out romancing half the women on that ship and every alien woman he meets.

Christine had pulled back her show of desirability, knowing that it was both unbelievable and, more importantly, encouraging her date, Dan, far too much. He was the sort of guy who would think a woman stomping on his toes meant that she was still interested.

Her heart pounded with the knowledge that the man she loved was sitting not too far away from her, and she was grateful that she had wine at the table.

McCoy considered that question and his possible answers for several moments before shrugging. “Well, I…I guess it’s up to you.” In a lull in the conversation, Christine, her mouth hidden by her drink, leaned over and whispered to Uhura, “Dan is a chauvinistic pig and he has horrible breath. Clint seems cute though���and also, look to your right.” Uhura frowned and dd as told, and quickly muttered a curse in a language none of her table-mates knew. Granted, at least Jim wasn’t there too.

In a Sea of Stars

multirptrash​:

Bones sighed…it wasn’t his fault, but Christine would kill him anyway. Then again, maybe it was good for everyone involved if Spock saw Christine out on a date…he just wished she looked a little happier about it.

Christine hadn’t spotted Spock or Bones yet, and didn’t see them as the four were led to a table, where she (thankfully) sat next to Uhura…even on the walk over here, her date had been a bit too eager and hands, but Uhura’s date was a perfect gentleman. Besides, she was only here for her friend’s sake, who seemed positively determined to date her way into forgetting Jim Kirk.

Bones cleared his throat and looked at Spock. “Uh…well, like I said…oh, whatever, Spock! They’re out on a double date, what do you want me to say?! Christine’s her own woman and I’m not going to mediate for you two anymore - she’s a beautiful, independent, smart woman and however you feel about her is your business to deal with,” he huffed.

The sound of her friend ranting caught Christine’s ears - she ignored her date’s story and looked over, spotted McCoy…and then nearly dropped her wine when she saw Spock. He looked a little tired, but overall as handsome as ever…if she hadn’t known that he was back, she probably would have fainted.

But this time, this time, he wasn’t going to see the overly-emotional, infatuated Christine Chapel. No - for all he knew, she had moved on. If he had anything to say to her, he would have to come over to her. Pretending to only have noticed McCoy, she gave a small smile and wave before going back to her drink, giving a dazzling smile to her date and pushing her chest forward - forgetting that the man across from her would interpret this as her being genuinely interested in him.

Uhura hadn’t noticed Bones or the doctor, focused on her date, trying to tell herself that he was just like Jim, and therefore a perfect candidate to date…but she wouldn’t. Because she did’t want someone like Jim, she wanted him.

After he finished listening to McCoy’s tirade, he raised a brow. “Are you finished, doctor?” He missed the moment when Christine saw them—the way her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock. By the time he looked again, she was doing her best to give a very different impression than the first: that she was not only desirable, but also desired the curly-haired man across from her.

Spock remembered the last time he had been in San Francisco, when Jim and Uhura had invited himself and Christine to dinner and how awkward it had all been. He suspected this was the same. Their bubbly communications officer seemed just the type of woman to enjoy being wined and dined in public, laughing and making small talk and telling stories. Just like the captain, she’d been popular aboard the Enterprise for her gregarious charm. But Christine? She was kind and sociable, but not the same kind of cheery extrovert as her friend. Had he imagined that look of wanting to be anywhere but in this restaurant and with these people?

And then an even more absurd notion occurred to him—absurd to him, but perhaps not when an infatuated human female was concerned: perhaps Christine was trying to make him jealous. Or if not that, perhaps she was trying to show him what he could have had.

“Would it be considered rude to say hello to our friends?” Spock inquired in as disinterested a tone as possible. “It is not my desire to…interfere.”

Uhura’s date, a thirty-year-old junior engineer named Clint, was more than a little starstruck by the gorgeous woman lavishing all her attention directly on him. He knew—everyone did—that she’d been with James Kirk, the Kirk, for a while and that since then, she’d broken the hearts of half the bachelor population of San Francisco after just one night. He wanted very badly to be her next real boyfriend, and he leaned into the conversation with enthusiasm, his hand covering hers over the table.