#i have been working on this for the past two days this is why like zero other posts have been rb'd
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enderlovez · 3 days ago
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can you write Spencer Reid and his secret girlfriend that's a nurse/doctor, when the team comes back from a mission and reid is injured they all go to the hospital and they see them two flirting and figure it out
(sorry idk how to phrase it)
also can you tag me when it's out?
Kiss It Better
Spencer Reid x Nurse Reader
WORD COUNT: 1000+
Summary: Spencer gets injured on a case. Imagine his team's surprise when they come to see him and find his nurse flirting with him.
Content Warning: hospitals, Spencer got hurt on a case, probably a whole lot of medical inaccuracies, stitches and needles
────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────
Spencer sits on the edge of the hospital bed, his button-up shirt and cardigan draped over the back of a chair, leaving his undershirt rolled up past his elbow. His thighs are parted so you can stand between them, cleaning the small gash on his arm, your gloved fingers brushing over his skin with the gentlest touch.
"You know," you begin, your tone lightly teasing, "for someone with your IQ, you're really bad at stay out of trouble."
Spencer chuckles softly, though his ears turn a shade of pink. "It's not exactly something I plan for," he defends quietly, good arm wrapped loosely around your waist. "Besides, statistically, my injury rate is relatively low for the kind of work I do."
You glance up at him, a brow raised. "Spencer, you've been here three times in the last two months. At this rate, I should really just set up a reserved bed for you."
"Maybe I just like the company," he quips, and now it's your turn to blush slightly.
"Flirting isn't gonna get you out of a lecture about taking better care of yourself," you reply, tying off the final stitch and cutting the rest of the thread off. "There we are. Good as new."
Spencer watches as you peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin. Everything you do seems to catch him off guard, even after months of... well, whatever this thing between you two has become.
"You're amazing, you know that?" he murmurs.
You laugh lightly, shaking your head. "I just stitched up a cut. Pretty sure that doesn't qualify as amazing."
"To me, it does," he counters, his gaze soft as he watches you walk around the room. "You're brilliant and kind and—"
"—And wondering why you're still sitting here," you cut him off with a grin, moving back to your previous spot between his thighs and holding the back of your hand to his forehead. "Don't you have a team to get back to?"
As if on cue, the door swings open, and a group of people spills into the room, their voices a mix of concern and exhaustion.
"Reid, how's—" a man with a shaved head starts, but immediately stops again, his eyes narrowing slightly as they dart between the two of you.
The room grown awkwardly silent as they take in the scene: you standing between Spencer's legs—closer than any medical professional should be with their patients, his unbandaged arm hung loosely around your waist.
"Oh," says a woman with dark hair and a wicked smirk. "This is interesting."
Spencer shifts uncomfortable but doesn't quite move away. "Guys, this is—uh—this is Doctor L/N. She was just... patching me up."
"Patching you up, huh?" the man from before drawls, a teasing lilt in his voice, his grin widening. "Looks like a little more than that to me."
You straighten and take a step back, trying to maintain your professional demeanor despite the heat crawling up your neck. "Doctor Reid is in good shape now. He'll need to keep the stitches dry for a few days, but the cut wasn't too deep."
The blonde woman in the back raises an eyebrow, clearly biting back a smile. "Thank you, Doctor L/N," she says politely before her attention shifts to Spencer. "Though I have to admit, considering his arm got cut open, this is the first time we've seen him quite so... comfortable."
Spencer groans, his head falling slightly forward. "Can we not do this here? Please?"
"Oh, we're doing this," the dark-haired woman says, crossing her arms. "How long has this been going on?"
"Emily," Spencer pleads, his voice laced with something somewhere in-between exasperation and resignation.
You glance between then, suddenly feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. "I'll just—uh—leave you all to it," you say quickly, stepping toward the door.
Spencer's hand shoots out, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. "Wait—"
But you shake your head with a small, reassuring smile. "It seems you've got enough explaining to do without me making it harder."
As you slip out and shut the door, you hear the inevitable teasing start.
────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────
The hallways is surprisingly quiet compared to the chaos inside, and you take a moment to collect yourself. You've grown used to Spencer's shy smiles and occasional compliments, but seeing him surrounded by his team—people who clearly adore him and who are incredibly perceptive—feels like stepping into a spotlight you hadn't anticipated.
You're about to head back to the nurses' station when the door opens again, and Spencer emerges, wearing all his clothes and his cheeks still faintly red.
"They're never going to let this go," he says, running a hand through his hair.
You bite back a laugh. "I can see why. You should've warned me they'd be so observant."
"I was trying to keep things simple," he admits, stepping closer, "but apparently, we weren't as subtle as I thought."
"Subtle?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "You were practically glowing in there, Spencer! You were quite literally holding onto me."
He grins sheepishly. "I can't help it. You make me happy. I like being close to you."
Your heart does a little flip at his words, but you roll your eyes for his benefit. "Well, now that they know, I'm sure the rest of your team will, so I guess our secret's out."
"They'll adjust to the idea," he says lightly. "And for what it's worth, I don't mind them knowing. I'm proud to be with you."
You smile, reaching out to brush your fingertips against his. "I'm proud to be with you, too. Even if it means getting interrogated by the Behavioral Analysis Unit."
Spencer laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "They'll get over it. Probably."
"Probably?" you echo, laughing with him as you start walking back to the nurses' station.
He shrugs, his hand brushing against yours as he keeps pace. "I think Morgan might take longer. But that's okay. I'm not in any hurry."
@priv-rose
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pboogerswbb · 1 day ago
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SO IT GOES - chapter 1
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Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, drinking Wordcount: 5.4K A/C: another pregame treat!! need my girls to deliver tonight!! anyways, here is chapter one, this one is about to start a little slower and i'm sorry about that but i promise it'll pick up and get more interesting, i got big plans for this one y'all!! anyway please leave feedback/thoughts/reviews whatever for me, i love them :)
-
Before London
The Dallas roads are busy, stretching out for miles out into the horizon as I stare out the window. My lungs craved fresh air, itching to open it. But I knew the air outside would bring no such relief, the humidity of this time of year already bringing me one step closer to packing my bags and making my way back to Connecticut. Everyone told me to turn the AC on, but I was much too stubborn and stuck in my ways. My dad would have come over himself and turn it off if he knew I was considering turning it on in April - much too early for his liking.
I had been here for a week now, seven long days. Each one making me more homesick. I missed my girls. I missed my team. I missed the normal weather and the East Coast. It was so bad I was on the phone with my dad every night, complaining. I knew as much as he loved me, he was getting sick of it.
“Paige, let’s figure this out,” Britt’s voice comes through the speaker phone, five garment bags sent by her laid out on the bed, ready to be opened.
“What do you even wear to this sorta thing?” I ask, speaking into the phone. My hands are opening one bag after another.
“Baby I dunno, you just gotta pick something. What kinda vibe do you wanna give off?” Brittany asks sweetly as I place my phone on the bed in front of me, pulling my shirt off over my head.
“I can’t think, it’s too hot,” I complain, rubbing my face. “I hate it here, wanna come back.”
“Paige, you gotta push through this. Try and look at it differently, at least you like your teammates!” 
I whine and lie down, my back hitting the soft cotton of the sheets. “Do you think they’d let me take my sixth year?”
“Oh my gosh girl you gotta pull yourself together,” Brittany laughs, which in turn makes me laugh too. I knew I was being dramatic, my team was great, the coaching staff seemed amazing. But it was my first time living alone, I didn’t know what to do with myself and all this energy I had. I felt like I was two days away from jumping off the walls.
Lou and Arike had both taken me under their wing, and the few joint practices we’d had with the team the past week seemed promising. Not good, but like there might be potential for something with hard work. I was well taken care of and grateful for it, but the thing is at Uconn I was spoiled. I got to live with my best friends. To spend every moment with them, get on their nerves and not worry because in the end they were my sisters.
“Where are you going?” Britt asks.
“Some sorta steakhouse,” I answer, rubbing my eyes.
“Boujee or like… Texas?”
I snort, grabbing the phone from beside me.
“It’s a nice place I heard. But Rike been here for so long she mighta forgot what nice is,” I joke sitting back up.
“Then go with the blue bag.”
Unzipping it, I find a pair of black shorts, and an oversized dark green crewneck sweatshirt. 
“Ion know about this Britt it’s a lil… boring,” I mumble looking over the outfit. When did I last wear dark green anyway.
“That’s why you dress it up girl! Wear a collared shirt under it, put on some chains, some nice shoes, trust it’ll fit the vibe, you don’t wanna be doing too much. Have I ever let you down?”
I sigh. I could see the vision the moment she started talking. “No you have not,” I reply. “I gotta start getting ready. Thanks again.”
“Anytime Paige,” she answers and we hang up. I know silence can’t echo, but it’s so overwhelming it almost feels like that’s exactly what it’s doing. Storrs was always loud, lively. Now I had it so bad I was even missing KK’s neverending rambling. 
Quickly putting on a playlist to get rid of the aching pressure on my chest, I begin to get ready, rapping along to a Drake song loudly - but who cares I live alone now. I sleek back my hair, pinning it into a bun - the one hairstyle I knew how to do. I put on some diamond studs, and take my time picking accessories, choosing just the right silver rings to match the chain on my neck, a cross hanging from it. Of course, Brittany had been right. The outfit was great, not too much for a nice restaurant but still totally me.
“Shit,” I mumble to myself when I check the time, realising Lou must be waiting on me downstairs. Grabbing a white cross-body bag I run out the door, quickly making my way down where, just like I thought, the brunette was waiting, tapping on the steering wheel impatiently.
“Sorry I’m late,” I yelp climbing into the passenger seat. Since I barely knew Dallas, Lou had decided it was best if she drove both of us.
Shaking her head, the girl driving merges onto the road swiftly. “Not gonna be making a good impression if we bring our rookie to the party late,” Lou complains.
I scoff, leaning back against the seat and tapping on the back of my phone, feeling butterflies grow in my abdomen. I knew I made good first impressions, that people seemed to like me. I wasn’t called the ultimate rizzler for nothing. But it was still daunting, I was about to meet all the people who worked behind the team, behind me just so we could do what we do. 
The past week had been so strange.The change in dynamic was drastic. I had become so used to being the older one, the one to call the shots, to have so much wisdom to give. Almost naively so. All of a sudden I was back to being the baby - the one who didn’t know anything, who had to depend on others. I thought I was prepared. But the transition was hard to navigate. I didn’t quite know how to act, if I was honest.
“Yo chill, I’m not even that late,” I chuckle lightheartedly, looking out the car window, my eyes trying to find something worth changing my mind about Dallas for.
“Ten minutes is too much, we gotta pick up Rike too,” Lou complains, hands on the wheel. It was only April but the humidity made it feel like summer. “Were you late talking to that girl?”
“What girl?” I ask.
“That girl from last night!” Lou laughs, elbowing me.
I shrug, like I had no clue what she was talking about. A complete lie. I hadn’t been thinking straight ever since I saw her.
“Ohh you mean that girl downstairs!” I say sarcastically. The brunette next to me sees right through it though.
“Never heard your voice get so quiet and shaky I swear,” Lou says, a blush setting on the apples of my cheeks thinking back to last evening. “You were fully stuttering.”
“No way bro!” I groan, biting my lower lip so as to not laugh. Though I knew better. I was definitely stuttering.
I hadn’t seen much of the girl, just her face poking through the door into the hallway. But something about her took my breath away, I couldn’t look anywhere else. It was Lou finally elbowing me that made me realise I had been staring at the dark haired girl. She was so beautiful it physically pained me to look away, but with a struggle, I had done so. 
But then she spoke. And if I wasn’t trembling before, the lilt of her voice had me weak in the knees immediately. It was deep, yet simultaneously sweet. Nevermind the accent that hadn’t left my head all night. Lou made fun of me relentlessly all night because apparently, my voice was shaking when I talked to her. I think she was full of shit.
“You were, I don’t blame you,” the brunette murmurs. “She was hot.”
I kiss my teeth, looking out the window. “Don’t matter, she could be Zendaya and I still wouldn’t get into all that.”
Lou looks bewildered, eyes flickering between me and the road.
I grin at her, shaking my head. “Nah I’m staying celibate. Scout’s honor. Got me that Natty last season.”
It was true. For the first time last season I had not been involved with any girl - and it worked out pretty well in the end. It got me the ring. Adapting to a new team, new city, new life was already hard enough without fucking around. Girls had a way of making everything complicated.
“You? Celibate?” Lou asks, her tone skeptical. I suppose she remembers a different Paige from when we were both Huskies. I had changed a lot though, grown up.
“Trust,” I nod as we park in front of a nice apartment building, Arike making her way out and into the car.
“Yo,” she greets us, and I nod into the rearview mirror, meeting her gaze.
“Sup my rookie!” Arike grins and squeezes my shoulder. “You ready for tonight?”
“Aren’t we just gonna eat and go home?” I ask but Lou and Rike are quick to shake their heads.
“Nah these things don’t end till late, we know how to party here you know what I’m sayin?” The girl in the back grins.
“Don’t blame you, nothing else to do here,” I complain half-jokingly. 
“Yooo not too much. You’ll grow to like it,” Arike laughs, grabbing her phone. “Just don’t drink everything people offer you today, got it?”
“Yeah, everyone’s gonna be trying to get you drunk,” Lou chuckles. “My rookie year they had me almost blacked out.”
“Almost? You were blacked out. We had to carry you to bed.”
I laugh and sigh, rubbing my jaw, my nerves stirring within my abdomen. “Great.”
-
The restaurant is buzzing with people, an entire second floor reserved just for the Dallas Wings employees. Arike, Lou and I show up fashionably late, but to my pleasant surprise everyone’s too busy huddling around the bar, lining up for drinks. I smooth over my green sweatshirt, already feeling the heat get to me. How the hell was I supposed to dress for weather like this? It wasn’t even summer yet.
I walk over to Satou, who’s grinning widely at me.
“Look at you, our baby rookie. Let’s get you a drink!” She smiles convincingly. I glance at Arike and Lou behind me, snickering amongst themselves already. So it begins.
“Feels wrong to drink at a team event like this,” I tell the taller girl, guiding me towards the bar. I was more used to sneaking drinks into hotel rooms, doing our best to hide them from the coaching staff. Guess this is what growing up feels like.
“Nah, don’t worry. Everyone’s chill here,” Satou laughs and orders us two beers before I have the opportunity to interrupt and ask for a Shirley. Reluctantly I grab the beer, cheering with the girl next to me.
“To the saviour of the Wings!!” She jokes and I roll my eyes, shaking my head.
“Sorry, but could you check if they are Manzanilla olives?”
The accent. I immediately turn my back on Satou, my body working before my mind can as my eyes scan the room. And then I see her. The girl from the apartment underneath mine.
She’s standing at the other end of the bar, holding a black clutch in her hand as she talks with the bartender. Her dark hair is down, in perfect waves, not one strand out of order. The dress she’s wearing isn’t red, but more maroon, shade matching the red of her lipstick to the hilt. The one-shoulder dress leaves her left one completely bare, and the golden jewelry sitting against her light brown skin makes her sparkle in the moody lighting. No words would do justice, I know that much. My knees nearly buckle at the sight of her. This strange girl whose name I didn’t even know, yet kept haunting my existence here in Dallas.
“Oh they’re not? Then nevermind the martini, could I just get a glass of Chardonnay please?”
If I had been nervous before, then it was nothing compared to the way my stomach was stirring now. Which is insane considering I didn’t even know this girl’s name. Hell, I better just avoid her tonight. I’m not on my a game. I should just keep my distance.
“Paige! That’s the girl!” Lou is half whispering, half screaming over the crowd, incredibly obviously pointing at the dark haired girl. To my relief she doesn’t notice, too busy swirling the wine in her glass around and sniffing it. 
“Shut up,” I mouth to Lou as she walks up to me, Arike on her tail.
“What girl?” Arike whispers, already eyeing every woman over my shoulder.
I give Lou a look, widening my eyes and telling her to keep her mouth shut. But of course, it fails. I had no power here.
“We ran into this hot girl in Paige’s building yesterday and Paigey here got all shy and nervous.”
Arike bursts out laughing, and I’m pretty sure my face was going completely pink at this point. So I sip half of my beer quickly, letting the girls get over their laughing fit.
“You done?” I ask in annoyed, eyeing the girls.
Gasping for air, Arike nods and grins at me. “Well go get her.”
“She can’t, she’s celibate,” Lou answers. The shorter girl standing next to her scoffs, clearly finding amusement in that.
“Yeah, good luck with that. You’re the new hooper in town, gon’ be drowning in pussy. I was,” she says, sipping her beer. “The rookie year is crazy.”
“Oh trust, she was drowning in it at Uconn too-”
“Okay okay, chill guys,” I interrupt the conversation, Satou standing next to us quietly and chuckling to herself. 
“So which one is it?” Arike asks. Glancing over my shoulder I see the girl from downstairs talking to some guy around the same age as her. Just as I’m about to point her out, Satou and Arike are waving that exact guy over.
“Yo Trey!! My guy!!”
All of a sudden he’s walking over with her. I feel my face going red, my breathing growing ragged, my eyes quickly flicking to the floor. She was like the sun, as much as I wanted to I couldn’t look directly at her - it might blind me.
“What’s up, my favourite girls!” The guy - Trey, apparently - says brightly and dabs all of them up. 
“Ahh and the prodigy!” He grins, turning to me. I lick my lower lip and smile back, offering my hand. “I’m the guy with the camera, you’ll see me around. Trey.”
I dab him up, ignoring the tingling on the left side of my body where the dark haired girl is standing, evidently feeling as awkward as I was. Except she was better at hiding it, looking around the room with an air of confidence.
“Well I’m the one with the basketball, you’ll know where to find me. I’m Paige,” I flash him my most charming smile. Everyone laughs at my joke, except the girl beside me. I quickly decide that perhaps getting drunk wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“Oh this is Zari, she’s new from England, Linda finally hired someone to work on the social media shit,” Trey explains, pointing to the girl between me and him. I blink stupidly when I look at her. Somehow she was more beautiful up close which made my throat feel tighter. I quickly sip my beer again, looking to the ceiling. Fuck, pull yourself together. I wasn’t this superficial - feeling like this just because someone was hot. Who knows, she might be the worst person you’ve ever met.
“That would be me, hi!” She says when I realise I was barely listening to Trey before, completely not making note of her name. She shakes everyone’s hand, smiling kindly. Fuck, are my hands sweaty? Better wipe them on my shorts first. I gotta make eye contact - I’m sure a couple seconds will be enough. It might be all I can bear.
The girl turns to me, her right hand extended. I glance at it, gripping it gently. Her hand shake is surprisingly firm, but I barely notice, feeling as if my skin is on fire. The moment our eyes meet I look away, knowing that everyone and their mothers could tell I was blushing right now.
“I forgot your name,” is all that comes out of my mouth, so clumsily I wanna hide behind the bar and never come out when I realise how rude it sounded.
To my shock she’s not taken aback at all by my bluntness, instead holding herself with an almost regal air. I wasn’t sure if I was intimated or turned on - either way I was overcome with a desperate need to make her like me. Surely I was off to a horrible start.
Our eyes meet again. Hers are dark green, deep and rich like the pine trees back home. I can feel myself wanting to sink in deeper, to bask in their familiarity. To feel the sting of cold air and smell the snow falling from the sky and to bask in the scent of pine all over me. Before I know it I notice her glossed lips move, but my ears barely pick anything up. An I? And I think there was an A at the end? You gotta be kidding me.
“I- Ivanna?” I stutter. She chuckles softly, as the others around us snicker amongst themselves. Bitches. 
“No, darling, let’s try again,” she smiles, her tone so sweet it’s bordering on condescending. I fucking swoon at it. “Izara.”
I nod, not sure if the heat on my face is from how hot and humid it was inside the restaurant, or from the public humiliation in front of this gorgeous girl. I chuckle mostly to myself, rubbing my jaw and looking around to break eye contact finally. Far too distracting.
“Izara,” I repeat, noticing Satou, Arike, Lou and some of the others laughing at my clumsy behaviour. I was just begging Izara didn’t make note of why I was acting a fool. 
“Zari is better,” the brunette says, a slight teasing tone to her voice. I breathe heavily out my nose, trying to get the blush to settle from my cheeks.
“Zari, got it.”
“Took you long enough,” Arike teases, making everyone laugh, except Zari who just smiles at me.
“Guys, not all of us are used to the Texas heat. It messes with your head,” she says with enough authority in her voice to make everyone around us stop laughing and give me sympathetic looks.
“Uhh yeah, it’s hot,” I answer bluntly, my voice shaking a little as I rub my neck. On top of the mess I was, I could feel myself sweating. I have to get home as fast as possible. Or not home. But back to the apartment I was staying in for now, until the moment I could go back home to the East Coast.
“Shit, I’m Paige by the way,” I say, realising I never introduced myself to Zari. She scoffs, waving me off.
“Paige, it’s my job to know who you are,” she points out. It’s funny, and I want to laugh. But nothing comes out of my mouth, I’m simply unable to, her proximity leaving me completely discombobulated. So I just sip my beer.
“Right.”
-
Paige Bueckers hates me. The moment she met me I could tell. Maybe she was offended by the fact I didn’t recognise her last night. Figures, a star like her would have a huge ego. Still, I had one job tonight. To make her like me. And I had done the exact opposite. I could tell by the way she avoided my gaze, the way she barely wanted to shake my hand, abruptly pulling it away from my grip. She barely talked to me, wrapped up in a conversation with everyone besides me. I couldn’t afford to disappoint my boss, if I did it would be bye bye Dallas and hello London. 
I’m sitting between Trey and another colleague, Ava, both caught up in a lively conversation as I cut a piece of my steak, wrapping my lips around the fork and chewing on it. Glancing up from my plate, I see Paige throwing her head back as she laughs with her teammates, her entire demeanor so much more lively now that I wasn’t close to her. A slight irritation was growing in me, watching the carefree way she’s joking around with the people around her part of the long table. Who was she to make up her mind on whether she liked me so fast. I was the kind of person you grew to love. I’m sure she would as well.
“Okay everybody!” Curt Miller stands up clinking his glass with the cutlery. Suddenly everyone goes quiet, including the blonde. For a second our eyes meet, sending a strange jolt around my body. Blinking, I shift my gaze to the man, clearly ready to give a speech.
“Alright alright,” he laughs, “I just wanna thank everyone for coming here tonight. I was never good at these so let me keep it short. This is gonna be a big, exciting year and I’m so grateful to the Wings for giving me this opportunity. I know I’m a new face to some of you, but I’m in great company,” he grins and points to Paige. “And Linda here mentioned something about a new media employee too!”
Like on cue Linda stands up a few chairs to the right of me, nodding. “Yes Curt, we’ve got some young blood to help this year all the way from England. Izara here, should help us grow our social media reach.”
I smile, trying to focus on appearing together and poised, some people glancing towards me. 
“Awesome news!” Curt grins as Linda sits back down. “With two young talents I’m sure we’re gonna have a hell of a year,” he says, glancing at both me and Paige. I see Arike rub Paige’s shoulder, clearly excited and happy about how the lottery turned out for the Wings this year.
“Now since I’m boring everyone out of their minds why don’t you two say a few words.”
Pause. I feel a panic rise from somewhere deep in my abdomen. Don’t get me wrong, I had no issue with public speaking, no issue with performing. What I did have an issue with was improvising. I was the girl who planned, who made lists, who used to finish her essays the day before a deadline. With a plan I was golden, but to expect me to say anything, planless, was causing jitters. I was just hoping it didn’t show on my face.
Mine and Paige’s eyes meet, and I immediately know that I wasn’t as composed as I wanted to be. That she knew I was panicking. Bet this is just gonna make her hate me more.
Instead, to my surprise, she clears her throat and begins speaking with an easy confidence.
“Uh well, way to throw us under the bus Curt,” she jokes, immediately making everyone chuckle, including me. “Guess I know what kinda season this is about to be.” Another round of laughs around the table giving her time to scratch the back of her neck as she thinks. With a slight smirk on her face she continues.
“This is a big moment for me. I grew up with the sport, already knew I had a chance to go pro when I was eight. I’ve been waiting for a while to get to the league and to finally be here… It’s surreal. I feel really blessed, really grateful,” she says looking at her plate and then letting out a sly, quiet laugh. “Crazy that I’m drinking with the coaching staff right there, I’m so used to having to hide it.”
I chuckle with the rest of the group. There’s something about her, a smoothness, a charm that makes it impossible not to like her. Even improvising like this she seems completely in control, like she knows she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. It’s impressive. I can’t look away.
“Geno didn’t let you drink?” Curt asks lightheartedly, making Paige’s blue eyes widen.
“He would’ve put belt to ass, lemme just say that.”
More laughter. Paige looks around meeting my gaze.
“Zari, I know you got that cold right? So maybe I should just speak for you so you have a voice tomorrow?”
Huh? I furrow my brows looking at her confused, but her eyes won’t budge, boring into mine. And then I realise. She’s trying to let me off the hook.
“Yes please,” I smile back, looking down to my lap. Something about the way she did that all for me, picked up on my nerves, found a way to get me out of it, was making my insides flip. You wouldn’t do that for someone you hate I suppose.
“I gotchu,” Paige grins, looking back to everyone around the table. “I think we’re both just really grateful for the opportunity and really excited for the season. Anyway, thanks guys.” 
Everyone claps and I do too, my heart warming at the way Paige Bueckers had just saved me. 
“Wait, you're sick?” Trey whispers. 
“Uh, a little.”
-
“Hope you feel better Zari!” Ava says as I wave bye, walking towards the exit.
“Thanks guys, I’m sure I will,” I say, knowing I felt just fine. Great even, after a few glasses of wine. As I step out into the evening, I hold my fur coat in my hands, too hot to put it on. To my surprise I see Paige standing right outside the restaurant, scrolling on her phone. Interrupted by the tapping of my heels, she lifts her gaze, the intensity of her blue eyes surprising.
“Hey,” she smiles, avoiding looking at my face again. She was really giving me mixed signals.
“Hi there,” I say, walking closer. “Thanks for rescuing me earlier.”
She looks at the parking lot, a sly smirk spreading across her face.
“Nah, you’re good,” the blonde grins, diamond studs in her ears sparkling. “Not a fan of speeches?”
I shrug, taking that as an invite for conversation. “No I can certainly be… If you give me approximately two weeks to prepare. Minimum.”
Paige chuckles, nodding to herself. “You’re that kinda girl huh?”
“Desperately so.”
She shifts on her feet, looking for something to say.
“That’s a good trait to have, I try to plan too but usually doesn’t last for longer than a week or two,” she explains. I nod knowingly.
“My brother’s a bit like that,” I sigh. I was already missing him.
Paige turns to me, looking for my gaze.
“You got a brother?”
I nod, “Yeah, he’s younger. Your age.”
She’s taken aback. “Hollup how old are you?”
“Turned 25 last month.”
“Damn,” she says before thinking. I scoff, my eyes widening, though finding amusement in her reaction
”Are you calling me old?” I ask with a serious tone, her face immediately going bright red. 
”No, no no, not at all. You look… great.  Amazing, and like. That’s not even old, I'm just trippin’. I just assumed you were my age but like a year is nothin-” she rambles, tripping over her words.
”Paige I’m taking the piss,” I laugh. She stops, looking at me confused.
”You’re what?”
Oh right, Americans. ”I’m joking around.”
She laughs. ”Taking the piss?”
I laugh too, the air immediately easing between us.
”I’mma start using that,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me. 
”You’re welcome,” I grin.
She scoffs. ”I didn’t say thank you.”
”You should,” I demand, more seriously, meeting her blue eyes. She immediately folds, blinking her long lashes.
”Thank you.”
I suddenly feel hot, warmth rising to my cheeks. I quickly look back to the ground, the intensity of her gaze too much right now.
”Hey, uh… I think we live in the same building,” she murmurs, watching the sky. Shit, she had recognised me, of course.
”Yeah… I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you. I really should have,” I quickly explain, feeling a little abashed but trying not to let it show.
”No, I just meant, I ordered an Uber. You need a ride?”
Oh. So she wasn’t mad. She was offering me a ride.
”I’d love one. Are you sure?”
”Totally,” Paige answers, smiling at me softly. She fans her own face, trying to find any relief for the heat. 
”Shit it’s hot,” the blonde groans. ”Do you mind if I take this off? I got a shirt underneath.”
”Oh, no go ahead darling,” I tell her.
With a sigh, Paige’s hands grip the back of her green sweatshirt, pulling it over her head. As she does my eyes can’t help it, flickering over her lower abdomen where both shirts have hiked up, showing a sliver of pale skin and black boxers peeking out of her shorts. Something about it makes my throat go dry. I’m not exactly sure what. The feeling almost unfamiliar to me. 
”That’s so much better,” Paige groans with relief, fixing the white oversized button up, chains resting against her chest. I feel my ears growing hot, quickly averting her gaze.
-
She’s not horrible, on top of being gorgeous she’s fucking great - funny, sweet, charismatic. Would be so much easier if Zari was an asshole like I had hoped earlier. I could feel butterflies in my stomach every time she looked at me. That familiar warmth that I knew too well.
We walk to the Uber together, and I make sure I open the door for her - I didn’t know her that well, but I could tell she was classy. On a whole different level than me. 
I climb in after her, unbuttoning more of my shirt for some airflow. For a second I think I catch her staring, but I knew it was unlikely. She was definitely giving me straight girl vibes. Of course my stupid ass was ogling after a straight girl - nothing new to me. My eyes immediately land on her thighs, her legs crossed and pressing together as she sits next to me. Okay, get a grip Paige.
”So… How you liking Dallas?” I ask, unable to take the silence in the car. 
”I haven’t seen much of it, just moved the other day,” she answers, her voice low but smooth, I could’ve listened to her talk all night. ”It’s very humid.”
”Damn that jetlag gotta be hitting hard huh?” I ask, looking at her.
”I look tired?” She asks, offended. An immediate panic takes over, my hands gripping the sweater in my hands. Shit.
”No you look fucking great. I would’ve never th-”
”Paige. I’m joking.”
Oh. I let out a sigh of relief, chuckling awkwardly. I look out the window, shaking my head at myself. I really needed to chill.
”Taking the piss?”
She lets out a loud, bright laugh, grabbing my forearm. The gold rings on her digits sparkle as her long, manicured nails dig into the white shirt. Immediate goosebumps rising underneath on my skin tell me I’m completely fucked.
“Exactly!” She gleams, her smile wide. “You did so good.”
That. I need to hear her say that again. I clear my throat to interrupt the bad thoughts, feeling Zari’s hand move off me, skin tingling as the weight of her touch lifts.
We pull up to our apartment building, both of us climbing out.
“I can transfer you some money for the ride,” Zari suggests as I let her into the building, eyes falling on her ass just for a second. Okay, no. Look away.
“No, Ion need you to,” I tell her sternly as we begin to climb up the flights of steps, her heels tapping against the tile of the floor. The sound echoes off the walls until we stop by her front door, silence draping over us, making me painfully aware of the way my heart was pounding in my chest.
“Well,” Zari smiles, turning to me, her green eyes even more prominent with the dark makeup surrounding them. Only then I notice how catlike they are, sharp and alert. Challenging almost.
I wanna say something smart, something witty. Something to make her laugh, or blush. I’m rummaging through my brain for anything coherent at least.
“I’ll see you at work,” she says, opening her door. I was running out of time.
“You’ll know where to find me,” I stupidly let out. Zari turns to look at me one more time and nods.
“Don’t stomp too loud please.”
With that she gets in, leaving me there with nothing to do but blink at the closed door and notice the flutters around my stomach. Rubbing my jaw, I slowly climb up one more flight of stairs, mind spinning around the girl. Completely, utterly out of my league. It only made me want her more.
-
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sparklysung · 1 day ago
Text
✨SHARING IS CARING - l.d.h.✨
© sparklysung – 2024. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.
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pairing – lee donghyuck x female!reader
genre – smut, fluffish | non-idol!au, roommates!au, friends (?) to lovers!au
warnings – oral (m. and f. receiving), face sitting, cum eating, squirting, exhibitionism (reader touches hyuck while he's on a call with his friends), unprotected sex (pls don't), lots of cursing, mentions of hyuck masturbating to the thought of reader), a little possessiveness at the end, panty thief!hyuck.
word count – 5.733 words
summary – where your roommate from hell is also hot as hell, and both of you enjoy annoying the hell out of each other.
note – so... i've been working –on and off but still– on this for about maybe 2 years? i just recently got inspiration to finish it lol any feedback would be greatly appreciated, just pls be kind <3 anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this!
“hey, y/n. have you seen my-.”
“how fucking rude of you to just walk in unannounced. what if i was naked or something? learn how to knock, you airhead.”
your face turned into an ugly scowl when your roommate and the cause of all your nightmares –and wet dreams–, lee donghyuck, completely ignored your complaint, looking equally annoyed as you.
“shut up,” the boy sneered, “is that my fucking shirt you have on right now? i’ve been looking for it for the past three days!”
you let your eyes trail down your body, the graphic tee barely long enough to cover your ass as your fingers toyed with the hem of the garment.
“oh, yeah. i found it while doing laundry and thought it looked good on me so i decided to keep it,” you shrugged carelessly, “don’t you agree, hyuck?”
the piece of clothing that was oversized on him fitted even bigger on you, drowning your smaller frame. you looked so soft and warm in it, so incredibly comfy the tip of his fingers itched to touch you. to feel your perky breasts through the soft fabric of his shirt. 
he couldn’t deny it, you did look awfully good in his clothes. 
but he would rather shit in his hands and clap than admit it out loud. especially to your face.
“i mean yeah you look good,” donghyuck mumbled under his breath, shamelessly licking his chapped lips. 
when he noticed the sly grin etched on your face he had to pinch himself to force his eyes away from your alluring figure, careful not to get distracted by your smooth legs gracefully spread across the bed. 
shaking his head, he tried to remember why he had almost left a dent on your wall from the way he had slammed your bedroom door open in the first place.
“but that’s not the point here. you stole my clothes!”
his words made you scoff loudly, clearly pretending to be offended by his accusation. “i still don’t see the problem. didn’t your mom teach you to share?”
your blank expression and unbothered attitude was so incredibly infuriating donghyuck felt like plucking his eyelashes one by one. and he had no doubt in mind you were well aware of it. 
although most of your conversations consisted of you both bickering back and forth like two middle school kids fighting for the same toy, donghyuck had learned how that evil little mind of yours worked throughout the time you lived together.
your roommate may have not been the brightest lightbulb of all, but anyone with two working brain cells could agree that there was no activity in this world, nothing, that gave you as much joy as annoying the living hell out of him. 
truth is, nothing could have prepared you –or donghyuck– for the turn of events your life would take in the span of 24 hours. the moment you opened the front door to your dorm apartment –fully expecting to see a fellow uterus-bearer–, to him, luggage in hand and ready to move into the room next to yours, you made it your ultimate goal to terrorize the poor boy. 
and how could you not? your roommate-from-hell made it so easy for you to read him like an open book. one look at his face, at those big, expressive eyes and you could almost hear his thoughts.
“that’s my lucky shirt, i need it back. right now.”
“don’t you see i need it too? what am i supposed to wear if you take it away from me?”
“i don’t really care, y/n, that’s not my problem.”
“then come here and take it off yourself.”
the small gasp that tumbled out of his plush lips made a warm feeling pool at the pit of your stomach. if it weren’t because you were trying to fuck donghyuck and not fuck with donghyuck, you would have giggled. 
“w-what?”
“you heard me. if you want it back you’ll have to come take it off with your own hands.”
“you’re fucking crazy. i-i, what the fuck, y’know i can’t do that!” donghyuck cried out, his skin beginning to prickle with frustration, heart rate spiked up to reach dangerous speeds. “c’mon, y/n, just give it back already. the guys are waiting for me.”
“too bad.”
your pouty lips had him clenching his fists. not only to stop himself from choking you to death, but also to ground himself. he could feel a droplet of sweat drip down the back of his neck, body temperature rising concerningly fast at your very clear attempt at taunting him.
if only he could have them stretched around him, struggling to fit the thickness of his dick…
but that was not the matter at hand.
donghyuck was known for always being late to everything. and usually it was for a good reason. like forgetting about an important assignment until the very last minute and having to stay home to submit it on time. or getting stuck in traffic. or maybe even finding himself in trouble for running his mouth too much for his own good. 
all of them were pretty believable. things no one would ever have an ounce of a doubt could potentially happen. 
but this, this right here was something donghyuck could never explain to anybody without them immediately calling him out for trying to bullshit his way out of trouble. even if it was indeed real, no one would believe him. ever.
and to be fair, it did sound like the plot of a bad porn movie, one probably titled something along the lines of ‘lucky guy fucks hot roommate’.
considering how big of an attention whore you were, he wouldn’t be surprised if you had your own only fans account and were seeking a helping hand. his hand. 
“don’t you wanna fuck me, hyuck?”
if donghyuck wasn’t taken aback by your attitude before, he had to physically take a step back this time, jaw almost hitting the floor.
“why are you so horny all of a sudden?”
“wouldn’t you also feel horny if you had to constantly sit through your roommate getting off in the other room?”
donghyuck felt like a bucket of cold water was tossed over his head, and he couldn’t help the way his heart dropped to his feet. you could see him scrambling to think of something to say. 
poor boy looked like he was caught committing a crime. 
how adorable. 
“okay, well, i’m sorry. i have needs, y’know? unfortunately i can’t control when my dick decides to get hard-.”
“i know you jerk off to the thought of me,” you interrupted abruptly, staring at him with a dangerous glint in your eyes. “i’ve heard you before.”
the blood instantly drained from donghyuck’s face. he suddenly felt lightheaded, having to lean against your door in case he fainted.
how did you even find out? 
sure, he knew the walls were thin and not exactly soundproof. and yeah, your rooms were right next to each other, separated only by one of those thin walls he often joked about being made out of cardboard. but he always waited until you were out of the apartment to enjoy his much needed self care time. and he swore he was always quiet. as quiet as one can be when beating your meat to the thought of your sexy roommate.
“what are you-.”
“why don’t you just come fuck me instead of using your own hand?” you sounded as if you were offering him to wash the dishes, way too casual for the situation at hand. “i bet it doesn’t feel the same.”
donghyuck didn’t know what was going on. everything was moving too fast for his poor brain –rotten due to all the hours he had spent masturbating to hentai porn– to keep up, visibly struggling to process the situation. 
“fuck, you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to react.”
the thing is, that was exactly what you wanted. for him to lose his shit and fuck you into next week. shove his dick in your pussy without even bother to let you adjust to the stretch and take you to pound town for the next five hours.
“i’m not joking, hyuck. i meant what i said.”
someone pinch me, he thought. 
was this a new way you discovered to toy with him? because if it was, then it was so fucked up. 
“fine. i’ll call jeno over then,” you shrugged, reaching out for your phone at his lack of response. “i’m sure he wouldn’t mind sticking his big dick in my tight little pussy.”
your words hit donghyuck like a fucking truck. his jaw almost dislocated from how wide his mouth flew open, the tips of his ears turning a rosy color at the prospect of his friend. in bed. with you. fucking his huge dick –because everyone knew he was packing– into your needy hole. having you cream all over his cock, holding onto his strong arms as you cry out his name.
just the thought of your fucked out expression and loud whines had him salivating in his mouth. 
donghyuck and jeno had been friends since forever, which meant he knew for a fact that his best friend would ditch him in a heartbeat if you did as much as look at him the way you were currently looking at your roommate. 
“c’mon hyuck, i know you’re dying to touch me.”
the boy in front of you visibly struggled to keep himself together when one of your hands traveled down your body to rub yourself through the thin material of your pajama shorts. his knees felt weak, ears burning at the sound of your sweet moans.
“i need you.”
your words replayed in his head like a broken record. you said you needed him. not jeno. not anyone else. him. as in donghyuck. your roommate for the past year.
as much as he did want to touch you, feel every curve of your body, he was also scared you were just messing with him. he was scared that finally giving in to his desires would just embarrass him and ruin his almost nonexistent chance with you.
god, donghyuck liked you so much. his little crush on you had already become annoying the moment he realized it even existed. 
you were the biggest tease he had ever met. and that says a lot coming from the lee donghyuck himself. you were always playfully flirting with him whenever you felt like it. or felt like giving him a hard time. and he could see it in your face you enjoyed every second of seeing him struggle to respond.
“i-i,” he gulped with difficulty, mouth dry as a desert. “i can’t.”
you watched the slim boy waddle his way out of your room. and you would’ve missed the tent growing in his shorts if he hadn’t almost tripped over his own feet and fallen next to you on your bed. 
for around ten minutes, you remained frozen in place, figuring out how to get your roommate to break and give into his –and your– desires.
this was the closest you had gotten to crossing the line separating an innocent friendship –if you could call it that– between roommates from something more. something you both wanted but knew he was far too scared to try and make happen. 
and how were you so sure about his feelings for you? 
easy. 
the boy wore his heart on his sleeve. 
anyone could tell how enamored he was with you. how he visibly perked up whenever you were around. the way his cheeks would turn an adorable shade of red and his eyes alternate between staring at the floor, daydreaming about you, and sending heart eyes your way. 
it had even become an ongoing joke within your own friend group. no one could –or wanted to– stop teasing you about his seemingly undying love for you. 
“c’mon, just look at him,” chaewon once pointed out in the middle of the library, elbowing you while whisper-shouting, “he follows you around like a lovesick puppy. even to the library!”
as much as you wanted to shush her, she was right. 
before he moved into your now shared apartment, he would remain at least a 100 miles radius from the library. it was as if he was allergic to knowledge, his handful of brain cells immediately going out of service at the smell of old books. 
now, once you joined the picture, it was as if a switch was flicked. he became a regular at the campus library all of a sudden, so much so that even the old librarian tending the front desk knew him by name. 
the end might be near, you thought when you first saw him sitting in a corner of the library, a variety of books sprawled across the table as he pretended to understand the book in his hands on quantum physics. you knew, of course, he didn’t. the boy was so busy looking around the building for something –or rather someone– to notice the book he was holding was upside down. 
his blatant attempts at getting closer to you weren’t a complete fail though, as they had your heart skipping a beat every time you thought about the messy boy on the other side of your bedroom wall. 
but before even thinking about how boyfriend material he was when he wasn’t trying to piss you off, you first wanted to test the waters. get a sneak peek at what dating donghyuck would look like without actually committing to it just yet. 
and the only way you could think of to do so without forcing yourself into a vulnerable position and directly confessing was by fucking your roommate. 
after taking a run for it out of your room, donghyuck decided he would have to do without his lucky shirt during this gaming session. hopefully only tonight. he knew the guys would not leave him alone if he was the reason for another loss, especially after boasting so much about his abilities the last time they played together. 
sitting on his gamer chair, still shaken by the interaction, he ran his fingers through his hair to clear his reeling mind. he needed to forget about what had just happened in the other room and focus on the task at hand: winning rounds in pubg. 
soon, donghyuck was able to immerse himself in the game, all thoughts about you drowning at the loud sound of firearms and the screams of his friends coming from his headset. so far he had been able to take down roughly a dozen other players, carrying the highest streak among his friends much to his delight.
however, the calm before the storm didn’t last long. 
the boy tensed up, fingers stuttering over his gamer keyboard when you rested your warm cheek right next to the still noticeable bulge in his basketball shorts. instinctively, his legs parted to give you space to position yourself between them. 
he hadn’t even noticed the moment when you had slipped into his room and quietly crawled under his desk, too deep into the game to sense the movement. 
donghyuck would be lying if he said he had never thought about you on your knees for him before. so many, almost too many times. he wasn’t going to let this opportunity slide.
willing his heart to slow down a bit, he peered down at you. you looked so unbelievably beautiful with your long eyelashes fluttering delicately as you stared up at him, big eyes locked on his.
“keep playing,” your hot breath against his inner thigh had the hairs in his neck standing up.
he hadn’t even realized when exactly he had stopped playing, too busy engraving the visual in front of him in his head.
gulping with some difficulty, donghyuck did as he was told. usually it came easy for him to submerge himself in the game, tuning out everything but the loud voices of his friends.
“you’re so hard, hyuckie,” you snickered, licking your lips as your finger trailed the outline of his painfully hard cock with a feather-like touch that caused him to shiver. “is it all for me?”
he pursed his lips tightly and simply bobbed his head yes, afraid of his friends catching onto what was going on on his end of the call.
satisfied, you let yourself cop a feel of his length. your hand palmed him over his pants, squeezing around the sensitive head every so often. even through the material of his shorts you could feel the precum leaking out of his tip.
the view in front of you had you desperately rubbing your thighs together, thickened clit throbbing in excitement. 
his silky hair, usually styled, was now messily framing his pretty face in the most beautiful way possible. his dark eyes were rolled back, slender fingers curling into fists as his hips raised from the chair, sloppily humping your hand. he looked fucked out already with sweat already dripping down his temple.
what a man.
“dude, what’s up with you? you sound like you just ran a marathon,” mark’s voice had donghyuck squirming in his seat, heart almost beating out of his chest. “are you alright?”
the boy’s head snapped to look at the screen in front of him, neck almost breaking from the aggressiveness of the movement.
“speak up,” you hissed through gritted teeth, tightening your fingers around the base of his cock.
his hips stuttered, hands holding on the edge of his desk as he swallowed the frustrated groan threatening to escape his lips. he heaved a shaky breath, summoning all his self control to not bust his load right then and there.
“i-i’m fine,” his voice sounded strained, as if he was struggling to make a sound. or more like to not make a sound. “shouldn’t have had taco bell for lunch.”
you could see the boy holding his breath, terrified his friends would see right through his weak excuse of a lie. and a sigh of relief almost slipped past his lips when they only hummed, quickly going back to their previous conversation, not very interested in digging into the cause of his unusual behaviour any deeper.
meanwhile, the pretty little devil between his legs got to work, releasing his dick by harshly pulling down his shorts. you blew air at the sensitive tip, making him shudder at the sensation. but it wasn’t until you placed a peck to his slit, fingers going to hold him at the base, pumping your fist up and down, when the boy gave into his primal desires.  
“guys, gotta go,” donghyuck interrupted the conversation less than five minutes later, hurriedly clicking off the game and moving to end the call.
“what-,” renjun protested immediately, sounding nothing less than annoyed, and donghyuck was sure he would be getting nagged next time he saw his friend. “we’re in the middle of a round and getting our asses kicked because of you, you can’t just dip now!”
“i’m sorry,” was all he mumbled before turning off his computer.
donghyuck didn’t even bother taking off his headphones, opting for simply letting it hang around his neck. he was too close, too desperate for release to worry about getting sweat all over the –new and very expensive– device –that he had just acquired not even a week ago after months of hard work–.
he could feel how hot his face was, sticky skin burning under the intense heat of your gaze. the smug smirk that adorned your pretty face had his body on fire, a combination of embarrassment and need making his cock twitch uncontrollably. 
being able to see the power you had over the lee donghyuck had you almost shaking with excitement, adrenaline pumping through your veins and leaving you out of breath. you would be lying if you said you had never thought about this, having him all to yourself, at your disposal, ready to take anything you gave him. 
your hand never stopped moving up and down his length, giving kitten licks to the swollen tip of his cock. 
he wanted to scream and smash his head against the desk, desperation clawing at his throat. he knew you were trying to break him, to make him beg for it, to fully give in to you. 
the idea of pleading for your touch, for you to engulf his hard cock with that sweet little mouth of yours had his jaw clenching. 
but fuck… he really wanted, no, needed more. to watch you gag as he fucked your throat, tears escaping the corner of your eyes at the discomfort. he wanted your soft hands gripping his strong thighs to hold yourself together, a mix of saliva and his precum making the lower half of your face glisten under the light of his screen. 
“i,” he struggled to speak up, voice trembling from the intense pleasure. “i’m close.”
“i can see that,” you smirked, twirling your tongue around the head before gently poking his slit with the tip of your tongue. 
“please, i need more.”
donghyuck finally broke, babbling incoherent words, urging you to fully take him in. 
fortunately for him, you immediately obliged, pushing your head down until the tip of your nose hit his neatly trimmed pelvis. he really thought some more begging was going to be necessary for you to give him what he wanted. 
“fuck, yeah. just like that,” the sigh of relief he let out quickly turned into a loud moan when you swallowed around him, nails digging into the skin of his thighs. 
his orgasm hit him like a wrecking ball. his entire body began trembling, hands shooting to hold your head down –as if you were planning on pulling away–, fingers threading through your hair for a better grip. spurts of hot, salty cum painting the walls of your throat, and you eagerly swallowed everything he gave you. 
the sound of his heavy breaths filled the dimly lit room, his body still trembling from the mind-blowing orgasm that had just rocked his world. 
you pushed his gamer chair back by his thighs, climbing onto his lap with a satisfied hum. you allowed him some rest, aware of his shaky legs, and instead focused your attention on the tan skin of his neck. you placed a tentative lick right under his jaw, slowly moving down the expanse of his throat. the feeling had the boy’s adam’s apple bobbing aggressively, your fingers going to play with the hem of his shirt before pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it somewhere in the room. 
once he stopped feeling like his legs were going to give up on him, donghyuck stood up from his place on the chair making you yelp in surprise, strong arms holding you against him. he then sat at the edge of his bed, head resting on your shoulder. 
“i wanna taste you,” donghyuck pleaded, reaching for your waist to pull you closer. “please, sit on my face.”
you instantly nodded, quickly removing your pajama shorts, body tingling with anticipation as you pressed your palm flat on his chest to push him onto his back. he complied, not a single complaint coming out of his mouth at your display of dominance.
donghyuck swiped his tongue over his pretty lips, wetting them and leaving them glistening with spit as he patiently waited for your next move.
“so eager,” you teased, a smug grin on your face.
“stop playing and hurry up,” the boy whined, lifting himself from his place, holding himself up with the help of his forearms. 
his eyes were barely open, pupils blown out. he looked so hot, laying shirtless on his messy bed. all hard and wet, ready for you to drop your panties and sit on his dick.
and oh how bad you wanted to sit on it.
swinging your leg over his body, you positioned yourself so your dripping pussy was hovering right over his mouth. you immediately felt his large hands grip at your ass, forcing you down to finally sit on his face.
“thank you,” you could clearly feel his lips moving against your panty-clad core, the breathy sound of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “god, thank you so much.”
you didn’t even get to laugh at him, or tease him about how desperate he looked sucking your juices off of your panties. all that died on your tongue when he used two fingers to push the crotch of your underwear out of the way and immediately latched his mouth to your pussy. 
“look at you, what a messy munch, eating me out like your life depends on it,” you teased, biting your lip when you felt his tongue poke at your gaping hole, caressing your insides. 
the dirty words coming out of your mouth had donghyuck physically shaking under your weight, urging him to keep going. he wanted nothing more than to see you cum, have your hips sloppily rocking into his pretty lips and leaving the evidence of your arousal all over his face. 
“fuck, hyuck. just like that,” you sighed contently, harshly grinding against his mouth. “you’re such a good boy.”
donghyuck hummed appreciatively, relishing at the praise, eyes falling shut and hands reaching for your thighs, massaging the soft flesh. 
he loved the attention you were giving him, and he let you know just how proud of himself he was when one of his palms slammed against your ass cheek before nipping at your clit, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.
it all happened so fast that your orgasm caught you completely off guard. you didn’t even have time to flinch at the stinging on your backside, the knot in your stomach suddenly snapping, and you melted into a puddle. your trembling thighs clamped around donghyuck’s head, your entire upper body folding forward, struggling not to collapse on top of the boy under you.
you must have blacked out for a second there, and once you regained consciousness you were left in a breathless, sweaty mess. 
“shit, that was so fucking hot,” donghyuck mumbled, sounding breathless as he stared down at his body with hooded eyes, snapping you out of your daze. “when were you going to tell me you could squirt?”
“i can’t-,” you choked on a loud gasp when you saw his now glistening chest. 
your cum had sprinkled all over the place, some of it even reaching his naked thighs. embarrassment washed over your face, making your cheeks heat up. 
“this is so much better than what i had hoped for, fuck.”
his pretty cock stood tall, in all its glory once again, hard and leaking, twitching every time his eyes travelled back to the mess you made. 
swallowing your embarrassment, you moved to straddle your roommate’s hips, teasing your wet pussy over his hard cock. but before you could fuck yourself with it, donghyuck’s arms wrapped around you before flipping you both on your side.
“what are you doing,” you scowled, a pout on your swollen lips. “i was about to ride you!”
“as sexy as that sounds, we can do that later.”
“but-.”
“just, let me, okay?” his voice sounded so soft, so soothing you couldn't find it in you to fight with him as you usually would. “do you trust me?”
“what? what are you gonna do?”
“answer me, please.”
donghyuck’s soft voice and tender gaze made a wave of warmth spread throughout your body, a fuzzy feeling settling into your chest.
“i do.”
one of his hands grabbed your leg, bringing it to rest over his hip before positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. donghyuck smashed his mouth against yours, swallowing the small whimper that fell from your lips when he teased your clit.
“hyuck, put it in already,” you whined, clenching around nothing at the friction. 
and how could he say no when you sounded so desperate to feel him? when he had been waiting for this moment for so long?
nodding, he did as you wished, pushing his hips into yours. his thick cock stretched your pussy wide open with each delicious inch, filling you up in a way you didn’t know you needed. his mouth fell open as your velvety walls enveloped him. your head rolled back, holding onto his arms for support, letting him push himself in further, deeper.
it felt like heaven. your bodies fitting perfectly against each other, as if you were both made for the other; just like puzzle pieces. 
low groans left his chest at the sound of your tiny mewls, enjoying the burning sensation of your nails digging into the flesh of his arms. 
donghyuck liked the way you said his name, how you called out to him with pretty eyelashes decorating those big eyes of yours as you looked at him. he liked the frustration and raw desire swimming in your eyes, and the way it made your lips form into a pout and your eyebrows scrunch together.
“move, hyuck,” you pleaded, attempting to grind your hips into his. “please.”
a scream was forced out of your throat as donghyuck immediately began slamming his throbbing cock inside of you. your whole body trembled in his arms as the bulbous head hit your g-spot, and almost as if he had just pressed a button, your mind went blank.
“t-there, fuck, oh my g-god.”
the distant look in your eyes, lips parted into a silent moan, drool threatening to drip down the corner of your mouth, let him know just how good he was making you feel. his chest swelled with pride, a newfound passion taking over him and turning his thrusts into deep, precise strokes that had you reaching heaven. 
“feels good? this is what you wanted, right? to have my dick fucking you full?” donhyuck grunted, repositioning you on your back and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. he could feel himself throbbing wildly inside of you, warning him about his up and coming high. 
“yes,” you gasped, legs tightening around his waist in an effort to bring him closer. 
you would be telling the truth if you said you had never gotten railed like this before. who would’ve guessed the hentai-crazed dork next door would be so good at fucking you dumb? if it weren’t for his now obvious experience in the matter at hand you would’ve confidently assumed he had never been touched by a woman. 
oh how wrong you were. 
“i’ve dreamed about this for the longest time,” the boy confessed, “every time you walked around the place, wearing only a large shirt and panties, ass in full display, i had to lock myself in this room to fuck my first, wishing it was you instead.”
donghyuck could feel your walls clamping down on his cock like a vice at the weight of his confession. with your orgasms quickly approaching, he propped your calves on his strong shoulders to reach even deeper, lips going to kiss your breasts and nibble on your nipples. 
“i can tell how much you like to be treated like the dirty slut you are,” he groaned against your chest, feeling his vision blur. “you’re fucking dripping all over me, creaming my cock.”
“h-hyuck,” your body began convulsing under him, about to tip over the edge. 
“cum for me, y/n, let me see how pretty you look falling apart on my dick.”
and that was all you needed to hear before a wave of overwhelming pleasure washed over your entire body, calves squeezing donghyuck’s head from the intensity of your orgasm. 
before you were able to fully ride your high, donghyuck pulled out, drawing whines out of you at the emptiness he left behind. ignoring your complaints, he shoved your legs together, shoving his cock between your plush thighs as he picked up his pace once again. 
“fuck, i’m almost there,” he moaned, breathless. 
and you couldn’t help but do the same as you stared at his face, eyes struggling to stay open as he chased his high like a rabid dog, using your body for his pleasure. 
it didn’t take more than three harsh thrusts before he was spilling his essence all over your lower stomach and thighs with a pornographic moan. 
releasing his hold on your legs to let them fall back in place, he collapsed on top of you, almost crushing you with his body, completely spent. 
fortunately –or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it–, donghyuck was unable to successfully commit homicide. and after showering together and going for another round, each of you went back to your respective rooms, moving on like nothing happened. 
just like that, your lives quickly fell back in place and normality took over once again. 
or so you thought. 
“hyuck, have you seen my pink panti-.”
you audibly gasped when you saw the pink lace panties you were searching for discarded on your roommate’s bed, a huge cum stain you were sure was not there the last time you saw them messily smeared on the crotch. 
“what the fuck?” 
“oh, yeah, i saw them in the dryer the other day and thought they looked too pretty not to jerk off to them,” the boy shrugged from his place in front of his large monitor, not even bothering to look at you. “honestly, you should invest in satin thongs, i think they’d look hot as fuck.”
“you little thief! i’ve been looking for them for days!”
“need i remind you that sharing is caring?” you huffed, a scowl on your face. “what do you need them for anyway?”
“to go out with chaewon, obviously?” you scoffed, annoyed. 
he finally turned to look at you, eyebrows scrunched up and a dark look in his eyes. “so? were you planning on showing them to her or what?”
the growing annoyance in his tone left you scrambling for an answer, equally parts surprised and turned on by the hint of possessiveness in his voice. 
“so what if i was?” you challenged, arms crossed in defiance. 
you barely got time to react when his chair suddenly swirled around, donghyuck’s full attention now set on you.
“only i am allowed to see you in them, so you better behave.”
–lia:)
197 notes · View notes
blueberrylixie · 2 days ago
Text
yes, sir
part two of the yes series
to read part one, yes, professor, click here !
student hyunjin x fem! student reader x professor changbin 
word count: 11,247
Content warnings: cursing, threesome (mfm, no bxb), oral sex (m and f receiving), pussy job, anal sex (f receiving), pet names (slut, whore, baby, sweetheart, etc.), use of professor and sir for males, light spanking, light degradation, descriptions of cum, graphic depictions of sex (that's why ur here lol)
let me know if i missed anything in this one-shot bc i tend to miss stuff! if you want to skip to the smut, scroll to the white heart divider!
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six months after yes, professor... 
"C'mon baby, I'm hungry!" 
You giggled, shaking your head at Hwang Hyunjin, your boyfriend of three months. He tended to be whiny and dramatic at times, especially when he got hangry. But since you'd been his friend since before you started dating, you'd known what to expect. 
But today, you had a special plan. Because you weren't just hungry for pizza. 
You and Hyunjin had started dating back in January, around three months after you'd officially met during your first semester of senior year. The two of you had really connected over your love for the arts, being two creative people suffering through their one and only math course of their college career. You'd truly come to care about him not only as a friend, but as a potential soulmate, too. 
There was really nothing wrong with your relationship, and you had zero complaints about him as a partner. He was sweet and attentive, smart and thoughtful, and he always made time for you. He especially loved setting up cute dates, from painting classes to movie nights. He was also incredibly passionate, always wanting to be near you, whether it be just touching and cuddling, or full-blown makeouts. He constantly gave you butterflies, a warm feeling in your stomach. And it certainly didn't hurt that he was irresistibly sexy. 
But there was one thing that had been weighing on your mind for the past month or so. Even though your relationship was strong, and the romantic and sexual chemistry was hot, sizzling even, you had always left each sexual encounter... wanting more. 
Because no matter how hard Hyunjin tried, he just couldn't make you cum. 
Of course, he was always very apologetic and embarrassed, which was incredibly endearing. And really, you didn't mind that you couldn't finish. He was totally okay with you touching yourself instead, especially if he got to watch. But c'mon, what girl didn't want to cum at the same time as their gorgeous art major boyfriend? 
Because at the end of the day, you knew why you were struggling. Every time you came close, hanging on that precipice, begging your body to just release, like clockwork... a certain glasses-clad math professor in a sexy dark sweater would invade your mind. A professor who didn't even teach you anymore. But no matter how long it had been since you'd spoken to him, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake the thoughts. 
But tonight, you were determined to break the cycle. Tonight, you were going to enact a plan: seduce Hyunjin, and have the best sex of your life. 
"Okay, okay!" You decided to play along with your hungry boyfriend's complaints for now, following him into his apartment, and laughing all the way to the kitchen. "I wouldn't want my handsome man to starve, after a long day of studying." 
He nodded furiously. "Yeah, since you forced me to work, I deserve food!" 
You rolled your eyes, slapping his arm playfully. "So me wanting to help you pass English Lit is forceful, now? What about you making me study Art Comp — an elective, might I add — for three hours straight, huh?" 
Smirking, he squeezed your hand tightly. "You're right, baby. You deserve to eat too." 
But before you could reach for the pizza, Hyunjin's hands, which had been holding yours tightly the entire way back from the campus library, wrapped around your waist, and lifted you onto the kitchen counter. He stepped between your legs and leaned in, so you were mere inches apart. "But first, I'd like my appetizer." He grinned, a silent request. 
Your heart leapt. Maybe he was feeling just as horny as you were. Wearing a cozy black cable-knit sweater over a white collared button-up shirt, paired with black slacks and brown loafers, he looked absolutely delicious. How were you expected to resist? You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, taking his black-rimmed glasses and setting them on the counter so you could pull him closer. 
He sighed happily against your mouth, and you brought your hands up to grip both sides of his face, pulling him to you. You melded together, tasting each other with a sweet, gentle passion. How could it be this early, and you were already experiencing such strong feelings for him? It just made your resolve to enact this plan even stronger. 
Nipping your bottom lip playfully, he let go, carefully setting you back on the kitchen floor, but never releasing your hand. You wrapped an arm around his waist, curling into the warmth of his body. He smelled of clean laundry and wet paint, your favorite scent as of the past three months. When you breathed him in, a sense of calm blanketed your mind, and you smiled against him. 
He kissed the top of your head as he served you a plate of pizza, then pulled a chair out and waited for you to sit, before settling in as well, grabbing a slice for himself. He took a bite, his free hand snaking down to your bare thigh and squeezing tight. The two of you ate in silence, your mind temporarily getting distracted by the need for food. The cheap cheese, the only thing you college students could afford, satisfied one of your cravings after a long day of studying. You closed your eyes and smiled, resting your head on his shoulder in contentment. He looked down and met your gaze, eyes filled with affection. "Was all that hard work worth it, baby?" he teased. "You look like you're in heaven." 
You shrugged. "What? It's really good, don't you think?" 
He chuckled, reaching out with a napkin to wipe some grease off the side of your face. "I just like seeing you happy. Oh, and I'm fucking starving! It makes even this crappy pizza taste amazing." 
Wiping your mouth, you smiled in response. God, was he trying to tease you, by being the absolute best boyfriend in the world and wearing your absolute favorite outfit of his? It was time to get your plan rolling, because you wanted this man too damn badly. 
Your hand came up, and you stroked his cheek gently. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. "You know Hyun, the pizza isn't the only thing that tastes amazing," you murmured, zeroing in on the splotch of pizza sauce on the edge of his lip. Leaning in, you licked it off, getting a taste of the tangy sauce, an intoxicating whiff of your boyfriend following it. 
He visibly gulped, looking you up and down nervously. The back of his neck began to redden, but he grinned, trying to keep his cool. He was just too adorable when he got flustered, you thought with satisfaction. 
You snatched up his hand and stood up. "You wanna find out what it is?" you asked coyly. "I hear that there's a very good boy who finished all his studies. I think he deserves something sweet as a reward." 
Hyunjin's dark eyes lit up with excitement, and before you could react, he was standing up and snatching you into his arms bridal style, carrying you all the way to his bedroom. 
"Hyun, you can't just take me away from my food like this!" you cried, playfully smacking his chest over and over. But you hid a smile against his shoulder. How did you know your plan would be so easy? 
He smirked, tossing you onto the bed with just enough care so you wouldn't get hurt. "What? You said I would get a treat. If it's the treat I think it is, I would be a fool to dawdle." Then, he sat on the bed, and patted his lap. "Now, what were you saying about something being delicious and sweet, huh?" 
"Okay, okay Mr. Impatient." You rolled your eyes. "But first, I want all this off." Motioning to his sweater and button-up combo, you grinned. "I wanna see how hot my boyfriend is."
"Oh really?" he inquired, brows raised. But without another word, he pulled his sweater over his head and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his slim, yet distractingly toned body. He'd only gotten more muscular since you started dating. He'd always been mouth-wateringly sexy, but with those sinewy arms and defined abs, it was a panty-wetter for sure. 
You bit your lip as you visually devoured him. Reaching your arms out to him, you fisted each side of his open shirt, and pulled him towards you.  "Okay Mr. Hwang, it's time for your special reward." 
He fell into your embrace readily, hands carding through your hair, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, tugging him as close as possible. You cupped his face in both hands, before dipping your head to his, and engaging in a deep, intimate kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth, and they tangled together messily as he nibbled on your bottom lip, causing you to whine against him, begging for more. 
"Already so needy, baby?" he teased, eyes narrowing playfully. "I thought you were giving me a present, not the other way around." 
You pouted, beginning to grind against him uncontrollably, desperately seeking the friction his clothed crotch gave you. "Did you think I was just going to give up?" you huffed. Before he could reply, you climbed off his lap, and pushed him into the mattress, sliding down his body and unfastening the button on his slacks, tugging them off, along with his boxers.
His semi-hard cock, flushed and pretty, sprang forth immediately, and you grasped him firmly in one hand, admiring him. All pink and long, with a vein down the middle. You knew he went especially crazy when you licked that spot...
Hyunjin watched you, curious eyes shadowed with arousal. "If this is my reward, can I request something?" he asked, his voice turned deep and husky at the mere prospect of you pleasuring him. 
You shrugged, nodding. "Sure baby, you can request anything you want." 
"Take your top off, yeah? I can't be the only one without my clothes on, and I want to see your gorgeous body."
You obediently pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you exposed in your lacy black bra. Although you hadn't dressed up outwardly, having been studying for hours, this was part of your plan. So naturally, you had to wow him with his favorite pair of lingerie. 
And judging from the way Hyunjin's cock instantly began swelling against your palm, your plan was working. He whistled quietly at the sight, starting to thrust himself in and out of your hand, moaning at the sensation. 
"Fuck baby, did you wear that pretty number just for me?" He clenched his jaw as he gazed at you, using both of his elbows to prop himself up so he could observe your skilled ministrations. 
You smirked, now using both hands to stroke him up and down. "Is there anything wrong with wanting to look pretty for my man?" you asked demurely, before opening your mouth and licking a stripe down the length of his gorgeous cock, marveling at the salty flavor of his precum, which had started beading from the tip and onto your hand. 
"Fuck, don't tease me, angel," Hyunjin gritted out, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation. "Show me how good your mouth is." 
Spurred on by your boyfriend's praise, you took him all the way, sucking with vigor as you bobbed your head up and down, saliva dripping onto his stomach. Kneeling on the bed, you arched your back higher, so he could get a nice view of your ass as you worked. 
"Shit, yes, just like that baby, I-I'm gonna fucking bust," Hyunjin stammered through swollen lips, fighting between closing his eyes and the desire to stare at you. "Look at your sexy little ass, in the air just for me. You're so hot." Unable to control himself, his hips began jerking up and down at a faster pace, and you began choking on his cock, as he forced it down your throat. 
"Yes Hyun, use me however you want," you gasped around him, using your hands to stroke the base, which was slick with spit and precum. "Fuck, you're so big, I want you inside me right now." 
"Yeah? You want your boyfriend to fuck you silly?" he panted in desperation, sweat shining on his forehead. "Then get your cute ass up here." 
You hustled to lay on the bed, and Hyunjin knelt above you, his cock still fully hard and pulsing with desire. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him close to you, inviting his cock to rest at the entrance of your pussy. You were so wet, you were soaking through the sheets below you, begging to be fucked. 
"Shit, you're really making a mess down there, sweetheart," Hyunjin murmured reverently, sliding the pad of his thumb against your cunt, forcing a desperate whimper from your lips. 
"I'm only wet for you, Hyun." You batted your eyelashes at him enticingly, rubbing your pussy against his cock, reveling in the sensation of him against your sensitive nerves. "Please, fuck me?" 
"Ah shit," Hyunjin scrubbed a hand down his face, before using his arms to brace himself over you. "How could I say no, when you just gave me the best gift ever?" 
"It's not finished yet," you breathed, as you lined his cock up with your entrance, and, pushing your legs against his back, pulled him flush against you. 
Taking this as permission, Hyunjin thrusted into you in one harsh movement, until he was balls deep in your tight heat. The air was instantly filled with your and his desperate moans, as he picked up speed, and he was pounding in and out of you, aided by your raised hips and pretty whimpers. 
"Yes baby, yes," he panted, the bed shaking and creaking as he fucked in and out of you impossibly faster, wet slapping sounds proof of your arousal. "You fit me so well, squeeze me so tight." 
"Please Hyun, touch me," you gasped, sliding your hands into his hair and pulling desperately. This was what happened every time. You would get so close and beg him to touch you, or kiss your neck, or suck your nipples. And he would, every time. But...
"Of course, beautiful," Hyunjin's rough fingers slipped between your legs, as he began rubbing that bundle of nerves vigorously. "Are you close, baby? I think I'm gonna cum, but I want to finish together this time." His hips shook as he tried to stave off his approaching orgasm. 
You whimpered against him, burying your face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent. Grinding yourself frantically against his fingers and cock, neither of which had slowed, you silently begged yourself to get there, just finish so you could have your first ever orgasm at the same time as your boyfriend. 
"And from now on, you will call me Professor." 
Fuck. You took a sharp inhale of breath, cunt tightening as those words, words which had admittedly haunted you for six months, suddenly invaded your brain. And they always did, every time you had sex with Hyunjin. 
"Baby, baby, baby, I-I cant hold off any longer-" Hyunjin gasped, before his hips stuttered, jerking a few times, and he finished inside of you with a few choked shudders. 
"I-I'm sorry," you whispered, as your orgasm faded, your mind still stuck on a certain math professor. One you hadn't so much as spoken to in months. 
Hyunjin deflated at your words. He knew that you had never finished properly with him. You cared too much about him to lie. But it hurt you to see him like this. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong!" 
You pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "You're not doing anything wrong, babe. We'll figure it out."
But you were upset at yourself. Why was it that whenever you merely thought about Changbin in bed, you were immediately pulled out of whatever aroused state you were in, only thinking about him? Because... you'd never felt the way you had fucking him. Even if you had a perfect relationship with Hyunjin. 
Had Changbin ruined all sex for you? 
Or had you not gotten him out of your system yet? 
—————————————
One week later...
You hustled down the hall towards your final class of the day, Advanced Syntax and Sentence Structure. It was one of your favorite courses, and you were always excited to attend. 
But not today. No, today, you were in a terrible mood. You had been for the entire week. 
Because all you could think about was the fact that you hadn't been able to properly orgasm for over three months. Was it too much to ask? To cum on your gorgeous boyfriend's cock? That was one of the many questions that had been circulating your brain during all waking hours. Along with, was this what having blue balls was like? If so, no wonder men got so touchy when they hadn't gotten laid. 
But the real — and perhaps more disconcerting — conundrum was the fact that you couldn't stop comparing your sex life with Hyunjin to your past foray with Changbin. And even more infuriating still? You'd only slept with that gorgeous buff, domineering, smart man once. He was a little, but not too much, older. And yet, he seemed more mature, and seemed to understand a woman's body better than anyone your age. And potentially because of that, you couldn't stop thinking about that single day in his classroom.
And what you hated the most was that you would never get to be with him, ever again. 
It wasn't that you didn't want to be with Hyunjin. Quite the opposite, in fact. You wanted to be with him for the long haul. You thought you could even see yourself falling in love with him. But as confident as he was, he wasn't as sexually experienced as some of your past partners. And certainly not as experienced as Changbin. 
"He could learn a thing or two from him..." you muttered before you even realized what you'd said, eyes narrowed as you stared down at your shoes. You regretted that thought, wishing you could just banish your hot former professor from your mind.
But before you could second guess your thoughts any further, you ran headfirst into something. Something much too warm and solid. 
—————————————
Changbin was overwhelmed. 
It was the final month of the last semester, and finals were quickly approaching. He was teaching five courses, the maximum number of classes a professor could take on in a semester. At the time, he thought it would be a breeze. Now, he was dearly regretting that decision. 
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose when they slipped down, his gaze buried in his papers while he walked. On top of all his regular responsibilities, a fellow professor and friend had fallen ill, and asked Changbin to sub for their class. He was in the English building, heading there now. In one hand, he held the class's lecture, which he hadn't read. In the other was the Calculus 3000 tests he'd given last week, and had yet to grade, his briefcase around his forearm. He took any free moment to remove a bit of his workload. 
Just as he was switching from his lecture to grading the test midair, the wind was knocked out of him, as something — or someone — ran headfirst into him. 
"Ah shit!" Changbin grunted, his papers spilling to the floor in a messy heap. Dammit, that was going to take at least a half hour to sort through, he thought grumpily.
"Oh geez, I'm so sorry! God, what a mess of a day..."
Changbin finally looked away from his papers, and back at the person who had run into him. His heart was suddenly thudding out of his chest, tongue feeling wrong in his mouth. Because he would recognize that voice anywhere. 
"M-Miss English Major," he croaked, his words broken and awkward. He could feel heat rising up his neck, as he took in the sight of you for the first time in almost five months. 
He'd never stopped thinking about you, even after all this time. Whether he was at home alone with nothing but his hand (doing less than savory things), or just sitting in his classroom, exhausted (don't worry, he wouldn't taint that room without you), his thoughts couldn't help but drift back to you. Not only had you shown him what mind-blowingly amazing sex was, but you were also an incredible person. He'd told you the truth, months ago. He'd never met anyone like you. And he still hadn't. And if his body, especially late at night, was anything to go off of, he still wanted you, badly. 
But while his memory of that single afternoon with you was clear as a freshly polished window, the intricate details of you had faded overtime. So seeing you now was a punch to the gut, one he would welcome, over and over again.
Because hell, you looked amazing. Even better than what his fantasies continually conjured up. The furrow between your eyebrows when you were distressed, the nape of your neck where a single freckle sat, or your addictive smell, one of orchids and new books. 
And your body. He swallowed hard, that lump staying lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Dressed in some kind of distressingly tight cropped t-shirt with the words "Cute Girls Club" written across the tits, he couldn't help but ogle you. Jesus, you were just walking around like that, for everyone to see? And you were doing this, while he sat oblivious, for months? He ground his teeth together in poorly pent-up frustration. How was he getting jealous over you, while you probably hadn't thought about him once? He should really get his shit together, and go to class.
But your eyes were his downfall. That gaze of yours flicked to his, filled with apology (why were you sorry, again?) and... something else. A darkness, one that wasn't there last he saw you. He frowned, all thoughts of abandoning you gone. He carefully studied your features, ones that he'd known so well, terrified that he might forget, or worse, never see again. 
Was something wrong? 
Your words from a few moments prior echoed in his mind. "God, what a mess of a day..." And upon closer inspection, there was a tension around your eyes, your mouth. Like it was a struggle just to smile. 
"Professor Seo." You nodded at him, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. That tempting, delicious mouth. Changbin tracked the movement hungrily. You averted your gaze, cheeks rosy, like you knew what he was doing. But the mere thought that he might have flustered you flooded him with a sense of relief and pride. But he could still see something was wearing on you. 
"Are you okay?" He leaned down so his face was level with yours. Your eyes widened, and he had the urge to grab you, and hold you to him, just for the chance to feel your body again. How had he endured this long outside of your presence? 
You shook your head, laughing weakly. "Oh, it's nothing. I wouldn't want to bother you with my stupid shit. Thank you though, Professor." And with that, you made to duck out of his way, and down the hall. 
"Wait!" The word flew from his mouth accidentally, but he didn't regret it. Because you turned back around, that tired look still encasing your breathtaking qualities. 
"Yes, Professor?" you asked softly. Just the sound of you saying those words brought back an entourage of memories, one that threatened to destroy him. His cock twitched in his pants, and he casually covered himself with his briefcase. Fuck, he could not be getting turned on in the middle of campus, right before class. 
He paused. He hadn't thought of what else to say, he just knew that you couldn't leave, not again. "I know we haven't talked in awhile but... you can always tell me what's going on." 
You stood there for a few seconds, pondering his offer. The two of you really had gotten to know each other over the semester you had taken his class. He hoped that you felt the same. 
"I-it's nothing," you repeated, but there was a quaver of anger hidden in those words. "It's just stuff with my boyfriend. I'm just, well, I'm frustrated-" 
But Changbin didn't hear anything past the word "boyfriend". His fists balled themselves at his sides, his breathing came fast and shallow, as he worked his jaw up and down so hard, he felt like his teeth might break. Red colored his vision.
So you had a boyfriend. Who the hell was he? Who had taken his girl from right under his nose? Hadn't the two of you connected like no one ever had? It had felt like soulmate shit, at least to him. 
But he supposed he hadn't made another move on you, after your singular rendezvous. And no matter how absolutely incredible it had been, he couldn't expect you to wait around for months. And since you were his student, and he'd been very skittish about any kind of relationship with you before he'd snapped like a taut rubber band, he couldn't blame you if you thought he'd changed his mind again. Maybe even thought he regretted his decision to fuck you in the first place. 
But that was so opposite from the truth, it made his chest hurt. He had to do something to rectify it. To get you back. Because you were his girl, weren't you? But what could he do? 
"Who is it?" he seethed, voice much angrier than he meant it. But he was just so fucking pissed, and even a little humiliated, that he had his chance, and fumbled, horrifically. 
You stared at him, stunned. "You know him," you began. "Hyunjin? We've been together for three months now." 
"Oh, the Hwang boy," Changbin scoffed, internally begging his mouth to close, for the next words not to be uttered. But jealousy spurred him on. "Well, there's your problem. There's no way he's satisfying you." 
Fuck, he groaned. That was sure to be the end, right? The end of this conversation, the end of a potential re-connection with you. You were going to cuss him out and walk away, never to be seen by him again. His jealousy probably just ruined something that could have been great. 
But you didn't do any of that. You just gaped at him, open-mouthed and lost for words. "Well, I- y-you don't know anything!" you stammered, cheeks bright red. "W-why would you think that??" 
Changbin paused, caught off guard. Was he... onto something? Was that Hwang boy not satisfying his queen? His beautiful, smart, creative English Major? Were you trying your best to be fulfilled, only for your boyfriend to fall short? Were you sexually frustrated? Yet another onslaught of dirty thoughts berated his mind, of you whimpering and begging your boyfriend to give you an orgasm, and every time, being denied. 
That just wouldn't do. He set his jaw, eyes narrowed with misplaced anger. At you, for leaving him. And the Hwang boy, for taking the woman he was just starting to realize the depths of his feelings for. And that jealousy started to coil deep in his stomach, a viper, ready to strike at this golden opportunity. 
No, Changbin, he inwardly warned himself. You can't say what you're thinking right now. That would be inappropriate, and grossly assuming that your feelings were anywhere near the same as his. You had a boyfriend, for fuck's sake. There was no way you wanted him anymore. It had been months ago. Things had changed. 
He really should go. 
"You know, if you're asking for advice... I recommend a more hands-on approach." Shut up Changbin, shut the fuck up. 
But again, you didn't leave. Your eyes just flicked back and forth, and you chewed on your lower lip, like you were actually contemplating it. 
After another painstaking ten seconds, you spoke. "Do you have a piece of paper?" you asked, eyes zeroing in on the humongous pile still on the floor. 
"Oh! Uh, yeah of course!" Changbin practically fell to the ground, scrambling to pick up his papers, trying to look semi-put together while doing so. He snatched up a page from his lecture notes, trying not to let nerves and confusion take over his senses. 
You slowly pulled a pen out from the inside of your shirt. Did you store pens in your bra? He salivated at the thought, and his cock stiffened in his pants once again. Dammit, how many times would he get a boner in a mere ten minutes spent around you? 
When you realized he was staring, you swallowed. "Uh, English major things," you said hastily, before handing him the pen, face so flushed and pretty, he wished he could reach out and kiss it. When he stared at you dumbly, you added, "Write your number on it. I'll text you." You smiled nervously at him. "If you're serious about your offer, that is." 
Changbin had never written anything faster in his entire life. You took the paper from his hand, and he swore you brushed your fingers against his on purpose. A cold sweat broke out across his body, sick satisfaction filling him. 
Holy hell, what had he just gotten himself into? 
—————————————
You'd always considered yourself to be a reasonably intelligent human being. But making rash decisions, fueled entirely by emotion? That was your fatal character flaw. And today was no different. 
But how could any girl with eyes deny Seo Changbin, especially when he was looking sexy as hell in his usual sweater and slacks combo, paired with those glasses that made him look like a big, sexy nerd? His hair was all mussed, and he had heavy eye bags, probably due to lack of sleep and finals fast approaching. And something about that haggard, hardworking professor was your undoing. 
And don't even get you started on when he practically started begging you to let him sleep with you one more time, as if he hadn't gotten enough the first time. Damn him for showing up at the same time that you were lusting after him! 
So yeah, you were just going to blame this whole messy situation on Changbin. That made everything easier. 
Well, not everything. You still had to find a way to breach the subject with your boyfriend. 
Of course, you could just pretend that the conversation between you and Changbin never happened, and just go about your life with Hyunjin like normal. And a large part of you, the cowardly part, wanted to do just that. 
But a much darker, hungrier side of you wanted this. Desperately. Possibly even needed it. It wasn't that you weren't absolutely obsessed with your boyfriend. Your desperation was, in part, because you were obsessed with him. You wanted this relationship to work so badly, that you were concocting insane ways to help him fully satisfy you. 
Something as insane as asking your past hookup to teach Hyunjin how to pleasure you. Because oh, what a remarkable job he'd done at it. Your cheeks warmed at the thought. 
Now, you were leaving campus after class, and heading to Hyunjin's apartment. He'd said he was making dinner tonight, and you were both excited and apprehensive to see the result. But the thing that was really stressing you out was deciding how to broach the conundrum you'd landed yourself in, which also happened to be a taboo topic. 
You knocked on the door, and you heard a clatter of pots and pans come from within. But you knew you were truly nervous, because you couldn't even focus on the idea of Hyunjin's cooking chaos. You needed to get this conversation over with, now. 
"Baby!" Hyunjin shoved the door open, a huge grin on his face. Something red was splattered across his nose, and a waft of tomato sauce emanated from inside. He grabbed your hand, and pulled you into the kitchen, where a pot of sauce was bubbling on the stove, next to some browned ground beef. He grinned, pointing at it proudly. "How does it look?? Amazing, right??" 
You smiled, unable to hide your relief. Both at seeing him so happy, and the fact there was no visible mess, yet. "It looks delicious. Is it almost ready?" 
He nodded. "The pasta is in the strainer over there, can you grab it for me?" 
The two of you finished making dinner together, laughing and talking about how your day went. There was no way you could bring up your conversation with Changbin now, right? You didn't think you could bear to see that gorgeous smile of Hyunjin's slide off his face when he heard that you'd been lusting after another man. Your stomach turned over at the thought. No, you would wait until after dinner. 
"As you know, I presented my second art final today!" Hyunjin was babbling, mouth full of spaghetti and meat sauce. "And I have to say, I think mine was one of the best. Not because it was a masterpiece or anything, but some of the others really sucked! Sorry, that sounds rude. They were uh... not good!" 
You tried to stay engaged with his story, but your thoughts kept straying, attempting to put together a script of what to say when you inevitably had to confess. 
"Baby? Baby? Babyyyy?" 
You snapped back to reality. Hyunjin was waving his pasta-filled fork in front of your face, a pout on his lips. 
"Ah! Sorry, what were you saying?" you asked, smiling innocently. 
He frowned, jabbing the utensil in your face accusingly. "You weren't listening to me?? Babe, what's up? You always listen to all of my stories!" 
"I know Hyun, I'm sorry." You reached out and took his hand. Yours was sweaty, so he was sure to know something was wrong. "Today was a... weird day." 
He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, expression now one of concern. "Weird? How? Tell me!" 
So you proceeded to explain how you'd run into Changbin, and relayed the conversation you'd had. Hyunjin knew about your history with Changbin, because you'd told him about it when you'd become close.
So far, he didn't seem to mind that Changbin had asked about your sex life. That was a start. But before you could tell him the insane proposition Changbin had made, you stopped short, cheeks reddening at the thought. 
"And?" Hyunjin prompted. "I can tell there's more. After your history, he can't have just walked away." 
"No, he didn't," you mumbled, steeling yourself for the big reveal. "He... well, he basically offered to help us out, if we needed it. You know, in bed. And I might have... asked him for his number." You covered your face, as you felt like melting on the spot. 
Hyunjin sat next to you, the silence stretching painfully. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed yours, squeezing tightly. 
Stunned, you uncovered your eyes, chancing a peek at him. And Hyunjin was... smiling? At you? You took your hands away from your face entirely, gaping at him in surprise. You hadn't expected his reaction. What was his reaction? 
"Don't leave me hanging here, Hyun," you managed, laughing shakily as you gripped his hand like a lifeline. 
The hint of a smile curled into a full-on grin as he spoke. "You want to have a threesome with Professor Seo, baby?" 
You groaned, face bright scarlet. "I-I don't know, I wanted to talk to you first! I haven't texted him, or anything. But..." 
"But you haven't been able to cum with me," he prompted. "And... you did with him, right?" 
You nodded imperceptibly, unable to utter a word. 
"Do you still want to be with me?" 
You jerked your head furiously. "Yes! Yes, always, Hyun. I've never connected with anyone more, and I care about you so much. I would only want to do this if you wanted to! I don't want you to think that-" 
He laughed, shaking his head. "No I know baby, me too. I just wanted to make sure. Because... I've always thought it would be hot to see you with another guy. Did I ever think it would be my former math professor? Hell no. But if I could join too, then I would do anything to make you happy." 
Your eyes widened further, and it felt like your heart was going to explode, as you stared, speechless, at your boyfriend. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Did he... want to do this? Not just for you, but for his pleasure as well? 
"S-so you're saying that-" you stumbled over your words. 
Hyunjin leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Go text him, baby." 
changbin
ms. english major
hi changbin
changbin
is this ms. english major? 
ms. english major
wow, didn't expect you 
to reply so quickly
changbin 
well, what is it? 
ms. english major
hyunjin and i talked
he agreed to it
changbin
oh really? and? 
ms. english major
why don't you come over to 
hyun's place tomorrow night? 9pm?
changbin 
wow, just assuming i'm 
free anytime you want? 
ms. english major
...
i'll send you the address.
🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
Was Changbin making a dreadful mistake? 
Standing outside the door of Hyunjin's — your current boyfriend's — apartment, a wave of self doubt threatened to crash over him. Had he completely screwed up agreeing to share a taken woman? He never thought he would find himself in a situation even close to this. He wouldn't do this for anyone.
But you were different. You were you. Creative and witty, passionate in a way he'd never before witnessed, in both life goals and in bed. And on top of it all, he'd connected with you on another level. And now, he couldn't get you out of his head. This would all be worth it to sleep with you one more time. 
So he reached his hand up, and knocked on the door. 
After a solid twenty seconds, where Changbin could hear nothing except the terrified thudding of his own heart, the door swung open, and... there you stood. Donning nothing but a white silk robe, and a crafty smile. 
"Come in, Professor," you said, voice soft and sultry, words dripping like honey off your full, cherry-red lips. 
Changbin gulped, following you into the living room, mouth dry. In the soft orange light and the mystery of the night, you looked so delectable, he wanted to pry your legs open and take you right there, on the brown leather couch. 
"This is Hyunjin's apartment." You swept your arms around the space, flashing him a flirty grin that had his stomach clenching with desire. "Not that you'll be seeing much of it, outside of the bedroom." 
Changbin closed his eyes, trying not to pop a blood vessel from the boner already growing in his pants. Taking a precursory look around, he was impressed with the aesthetic Hyunjin had managed to curate on a college student budget. A mix of artsy and chic, with a smattering of eclectic colors that somehow all harmonized with one another, it truly looked like a home. It was much cozier than Changbin's townhome, which featured a lone picture of him and his close friends at the beach last year, and one gray couch in the living room. 
The abode of a true bachelor, he sighed to himself. If he ever wanted to invite you over, he would have to spruce it up, majorly. 
The two of you entered the bedroom, where Hyunjin was sitting at a desk, tapping away on his phone like this was just your average evening. Did you do this often? The disturbing idea forced its way into his mind. 
You smiled at him again, and the thought dissolved instantly. Hyunjin looked up, and immediately set his phone down, a look of apprehension and cautious excitement crossing his face. Was he just as nervous as Changbin? 
"Well, since this is our first time doing anything like this," you began, answering his question, "Hyun and I just want to make sure that you're sure that you're comfortable, and you want to do this. A-and we wanted to let you know that we're open to anything, since you're helping us. Right, babe?" You cut a glance at Hyunjin. 
The man nodded, swallowing thickly. "Yeah, I want to pleasure my girl. And... she said she had a great time with you before." He ducked his head. 
"And he doesn't mind sharing me, for the night," you added quietly, blushing prettily. 
Changbin bit his lip to keep from groaning aloud. Fuck, how did you know exactly how to turn him on? 
"Well, if you two are comfortable, then so am I," he started, turning to you, his voice lowering an octave, deep and hoarse. "As long as you're willing to follow my instructions." 
You immediately snapped to attention at his tone change, back going taut as a coiled spring. "Y-yes, Professor. Anything you want." 
Hyunjin watched with dark eyes, as he ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck baby, I didn't know rough language turned you on so much. I like it." 
"So, what's the real problem here?" Changbin asked, wondering exactly how much he could squeeze out of this little deal. "Is it him eating you out? The sex? Both?" 
"It's not the sex itself," you paused, chewing your lower lip. "It's just that I can't cum. I-I don't know why, but I just can't get there." 
Changbin nodded slowly. "Well, why don't we see what we're working with, huh?" He pointed at Hyunjin. "Show me how you eat her out." 
You smiled at him, lip wobbling from nerves. "Before we start, I have a little surprise for you. For both of you." 
Changbin watched, entranced, as you slowly removed your robe, body moving oh-so-sensually, revealing matching white and red lace lingerie that left nothing to the imagination. The lace across your perky breasts, the ribbons gracing your silky thighs, everything made his mouth water. You smiled, a sultry look, directly at Changbin, and he was instantly brought back to that day in his classroom, when he'd finally given in to the temptation to take you. That day had been a blur of hot red, as he blindly followed every urge he felt. 
As he grabbed you around the waist and pushed you into the mattress, planting a hard, searing kiss to your awaiting lips, it felt even better than that day. You were no longer in your school clothes. You were dressed so pretty, all for him. And he would take anything you were willing to give. 
And give you did. Wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer, moaning so sexily against his lips, slipping your tongue into his mouth, you tasted of a desperation that he lapped up like syrup. Your hands slid into his hair and tugged, as the two of you explored one another like it was simultaneously the first time, and the one hundredth.
"I missed you, Professor," you whispered breathlessly, pupils blown wide as you finally broke the kiss. "I was scared you wouldn't agree to come tonight." 
He grinned, releasing you and allowing Hyunjin to take his place. "I could never say no to another chance with you, beautiful." 
Hyunjin knelt in front of you, licking his lips eagerly. "My irresistible baby," he crooned at you, pulling the white thong to the side and running his thumb through your already soaked cunt. 
You whimpered, immediately becoming putty beneath your boyfriend's touch. Sliding a hand into Hyunjin's long, wavy hair, you tugged him closer, lip pulled between your teeth, waiting with baited breath. "Please Hyun, your tongue," you begged. 
Changbin watched with reverence, trying to memorize every little reaction, every movement you made. 
Hyunjin acquiesced to your pleas without question, shoving his head between your legs as he opened his mouth, latching onto your clit and sucking hard. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, as they both fucked in and out of you with abandon. 
Your hips bucked against his ministrations, incoherent words of desperation spilling from your lips as you reached for Changbin, eyes watery and filled with need. A sheen of sweat already glistened across your forehead, and Changbin was at your side in an instant, pressing kisses against you, relishing the salty taste. 
"You like that huh, sweetheart?" he growled, a deep rumble in his throat, as he moved his lips down your neck, across your collarbone, and to your breasts. "You like the feeling of your boyfriend eating your wet little pussy, while your professor sucks your nipples?" 
You cried out, and Hyunjin only increased his movements in response, the wet squelching of your cunt mixing with your garbled moans. Changbin latched onto a raised nipple and sucked harshly, biting at them, and making you squirm with sensitivity beneath his grasp. Hyunjin continued to fuck his tongue in and out of you, his fingers stroking you desperately. 
You gripped Changbin's arms, and he knew your orgasm was looming closer and closer. You squeezed your eyes shut, hands moving to his hair and pulling as you wrapped your legs around Hyunjin's head, entire body shaking violently. 
"Y-yes, right there!" you pleaded, rocking your hips, hungry for more. Your gaze locked on Changbin, hot with lust, and his cock twitched in response. "Please, don't stop!" 
Hyunjin moaned raggedly against you, sending vibrations shivering through your sensitive nerves. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how amazing it felt, your orgasm... subsided. Disappeared. You whimpered softly, heart sinking. 
"Did you cum, love?" Hyunjin asked after a moment. But he already knew the answer. You hesitated, then shook your head. 
"It looked like you were really enjoying it," Changbin mused, pressing another kiss to your chest and standing up. "And not to be weird, but I think he was doing a good job."
"Do you like it when Professor Seo says mean things to you, baby?" Hyunjin interrupted, continuing to rub gentle circles against your soaked pussy. "Every time he said something mean, you practically gushed on my tongue." 
You averted your gaze, cheeks red. But you nodded anyway. "Yes, I think... I think when he's mean to me, I get really turned on," you whispered, finally meeting Hyunjin's gaze. "I think it really pushes me over the edge."
Changbin nodded slowly, finally starting to understand. "Gorgeous?" he barked, and you stared at him with those wide, alluring eyes. He had to tear his gaze from yours to continue. "Hyunjin? You said you were willing to learn. Why don't you watch?" Changbin held his breath, hoping that Hyunjin wouldn't call him on his shit. Because if he was being honest, he wanted you to himself, just this once. 
Hyunjin paused, glancing at you in askance. You nodded silently, sending him an encouraging smile. With a jerk of his head, he moved slightly off to the side, while also giving himself a good view of what was happening. 
"I'm only doing it because my girlfriend wants this," Hyunjin warned. "And because I have no idea why she can't finish. I want to please her." 
Changbin chuckled. "Of course. And I'm here to help." With that, he grabbed both of your legs and spread them wide, positioning his hips between yours, leaning down, and capturing your lips with his. 
You moaned loudly against him, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, and grinding your soaked pantie-clad pussy against his pants. "Can I take your shirt off, Professor?" you whispered breathlessly, fingers already tugging at the hem. 
He nodded, the heat of embarrassment and pride climbing up his neck. He helped you remove his shirt, and then unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants off, sighing in relief. His cock had been pressing against the confines of his jeans since he arrived. 
You rubbed your hand against his cock through his boxers, before expertly tugging them off, and stroking him to full hardness. He gritted his teeth so hard they hurt, his eyes shut tight as he tried to reign in some semblance of self control. He'd missed you so desperately, he ached. 
"Don't tease me, you little slut," he ground out, hips rocking against your touch insistently. 
"I'm not doing anything!" You blinked up at him, a devilish smile on your face, continuing to pump him, heavy in your hand. Fuck. His cock swelled further. You really were just a minx, weren't you? 
"I'm warning you, kitten," he hissed, eyes narrowed. When you didn't stop, he grabbed both of your hands, and pinned them by the wrists over your head, ignoring your squeals of protest. "That's it, I told you," he spat, positioning himself outside your entrance, which was dripping onto the blankets. 
"P-please Professor!" you gasped, panting with need. "Fuck me, please." 
"You don't deserve it, spiting me like a whore," he snapped. But he was so fucking turned on, he couldn't tease you for long. With a strangled growl, he filled you with one thrust, knees buckling at the heavenly sensation of your tight heat enveloping him, like you were made to fit his length. 
"God yes Professor, please fuck me faster." You clung to his arms, tears streaming down your face as you dug your heels into his back, pushing him deeper inside you. 
He nearly choked on his words, stars winking across his vision, as he began pounding in and out of you, balls slapping your pussy, the bed rocking with the power of his movements. "Fuck yes, take it," he snarled. "You'll take everything I give you." Was this what heaven felt like? You were so warm, molded to him so perfectly. His hips snapped against yours, all that pent-up tension spurring him on as he gave you everything he'd fantasized about over all these months. 
"O-oh yes, whatever you want Professor," you panted, warm cunt spasming around his rock hard cock. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum, please Professor, can I cum?" You reached your hand out to Hyunjin, and he immediately accepted, as you gazed pleadingly up at them both.
Without you having to ask, Changbin slid a hand down to your drenched, swollen clit. He rubbed fiercely until you were trembling against him, gasping in pleasure. Hyunjin watched, entranced, which sent a thrill of excitement zipping through Changbin, spurring him to pick up speed. God, you felt so fucking good. How had he spent this many months without indulging himself in your glorious body? 
You clung to his muscular arms, sobbing and babbling his name incoherently, pussy contracting, hips shuddering. Changbin could feel his orgasm coming, but he staved it off. He couldn't finish already, in the first round. He was doing this for you and your pleasure. 
"Cum for us, pretty girl," he commanded, punctuated with a harsh slap to your ass. "Cum like the slut you are." 
You cried out, cunt so tight it felt like you were suffocating him. He couldn't breath, as you shook like a leaf, body taught, mouth opened in a wide "o". Your hand slid into his hair, tugging, as your hips shook and jerked uncontrollably. 
"F-fuck Professor, Hyun!" And with a wail, you finally toppled over the long-awaited edge, clinging to both men as you fell apart around Changbin's pulsing cock. 
He fucked you through it, gently stroking your clit, and reveling in your shivering, sweaty perfection, until you whimpered from overstimulation. He gently pulled out, and allowed Hyunjin to switch places, and hold you. 
"Oh my god," you panted, curling into your boyfriend's arms, catching your breath. "That was- that was amazing." 
"So what do you think, Hyunjin?" Changbin tried to act nonchalant, like he hadn't just had world-implodingly incredible sex. There was no way around it. He was addicted, and he needed more. But he had to stay true to his word, and give Hyunjin his turn. "Are you ready to try it yourself?" 
Hyunjin paused, gazing down lovingly at you in a way that made Changbin's heart squeeze. "So, you like it when Professor Seo says mean things to you..." he said again. He slowly began removing his shirt, your eyes tracking him hungrily. 
You nodded, cheeks still flushed with post-sex elation. "I don't know why, but I think it's really hot," you murmured.
Hyunjin brushed a strand of hair from your eyes. Then, he spoke. 
"From now on, you will call me sir." 
The atmosphere immediately changed, like all the oxygen was sucked out of the room. You stared at your boyfriend, usually such a sweet person, in shock. Changbin hid a laugh. Apparently, Hyunjin had caught onto the fact that you loved calling him "professor" in bed, and got turned on by the degrading nicknames and occasional spanking. But a single nickname wouldn't be enough to truly please you in bed. He would have to act the part, too. 
But apparently, Changbin had no reason to be concerned. 
"Climb on up here, and fuck me like the slut you are," Hyunjin demanded, slapping your ass, as he watched you expectantly. 
"Y-yes sir!" You scrambled to follow his demands, eyes still huge with nervous excitement. You unzipped Hyunjn's pants, and helped him strip off his boxers, allowing his long, pretty cock to spring free. He tugged his shirt off, and you stared in awe at his muscled torso. Changbin smirked down at you in satisfaction. At the end of the day, you just wanted to be dominated. 
"Okay angel, start grinding that wet little pussy all over him, okay?" Changbin instructed, wanting to see how you would react to him controlling the situation. 
You whined, but nodded, spreading your legs and rubbing yourself all over your boyfriend, causing him to grit out a moan, eyes squeezed shut, as pleasure washed over him. 
"And since she likes you to dominate her, maybe adjust her to where you want her, before fucking her," Changbin prodded Hyunjin, who immediately opened his eyes, and grabbed your hips with rough hands. 
"Yeah, right there," Hyunjin hissed, pressing you harder against his length, which was aching between your slender thighs, as he moved you against him. "Be a good girl, and let me fuck you how I want." 
Your lip wobbled, and you nodded, clinging to the threads of your desire. "Y-yes Hyun- I mean, sir. Please take me now." 
Hyunjin's eyes flicked over to Changbin, who just eyed him intently. With that silent approval, Hyunjin lined himself up outside of your aching cunt, and drove himself home, filling you to the brim. 
Instantaneously, the room was filled with a chorus of both of your moans. You gripped his slim arms tightly, leaving moon-shaped crescents on his skin, as his veins became more prominent beneath your hands. He growled raggedly against your ear and his hips snapped up against yours, power growing and growing, as you cried into his chest. 
"Y-yes, fuck me harder!" you begged, tears wetting your lash line. 
"What do you call me, my little slut?" Hyunjin ground out, possessive gaze burning a trail across your skin. 
"S-sir, please!" you implored, pressing repeated kisses across his hard pecs. "More!" 
"Touch her," Changbin ordered. "She's shaking like a little bitch, it'll make her fall apart around you." 
Hyunjin reached a hand between your legs, rubbing rough circles across your aching clit, causing you to shudder and grind yourself needily against him. 
"Be gentler, she'll get rug burn if you go much faster," Changbin snapped, and Hyunjin slowed down, stroking you with a tender touch. 
"O-oh fuck, I think I'm close!" you gasped, chest wracked with sobs of pleasure as you bounced yourself on your boyfriend's cock, squeezing him so tight he struggled to breathe. "Please don't stop sir, please! Can I- can I cum-" 
"Yes angel, cum on me like the whore you are," Hyunjin bit the shell of your earlobe, not relinquishing his relentlessly fast pace in and out of you. 
You tumbled over the edge, mouth open on a soundless cry, nails digging deep into his arms, as you trembled around him so violently, he had to grip you hard to keep you stable, lights winking in front of your eyes as you reveled in the sensation of your boyfriend balls-deep inside you. Your pussy was made for him, made for Changbin. Made for the two of them. Small whines of Hyunjin's name were the only things to escape your kiss-swollen lips, as you rode out your high. 
Hyunjin's hips stuttered as you came, the warmth and wetness of your perfect little pussy squeezing him so tight, milking him dry. He thrusted his hips messily in and out of you a couple more times, before spurting a load of white liquid into you, fucking the mix of both of your cum into your tired body. 
You collapsed on top of him, a sweaty, but satisfied mess. "You-you-" you babbled softly, reaching up and running a hand through his hair adoringly. You glanced up at Changbin, a shy smile on your face. 
Changbin grinned down at you, a bit uncomfortable. Should he still be here? "How was that, love?" he asked, voice a deep rasp. 
"I-it was amazing Professor," you breathed, a look of wonder in your eyes. "Thank you."
Hyunjin glanced at Changbin, an uncertain look crossing his face. "Would you like to... join us?" he offered, glancing at you fleetingly. "I bet she'd enjoy it. You're down for another round, right angel?"
You turned around, having been kissing up and down Hyunjin's sweaty neck. You stared up at Changbin with a look that had his cock instantly springing to life, and a groan rising in his throat. "I would love for you to join, Professor," you breathed, presenting your ass to him like a dessert on a platter, smiling coquettishly at Hyunjin. You added, "I'm always ready, if it's with both of you."
"Well shit," Changbin growled, striding over, hands clenched at his sides. "How could I say no to that?" 
You climbed back onto Hyunjin's lap and gripped his cock, already ready for a second round. You lined up his hard cock outside of your pussy, which was still dripping wet. You closed your eyes, biting your lower lip in anticipation, before slowly impaling yourself on his perfect length. 
The two of you let out simultaneous moans of delight, as you began bouncing up and down on top of him, the slapping sounds filling the room, as you squealed and whimpered with tantalizing desire. 
Hyunjin grabbed your ass, fucking you over and over on his length, moving you rapidly, in tune with his own pleasure. "Fuck, you're an eager little slut tonight, aren't you?" he hissed, eyes glazed over with unbridled ecstasy, as he drank in the sensation of your pussy clenching around him.
"Fuck me harder, sir!" you whined, hands pressing into his broad chest, as you looked back at Changbin, who was drinking in the sight before him with relish. "Professor, aren't you going to join in? I've always wanted a thick cock inside my ass." 
A rumble vibrated inside his throat. From the sound of it, you'd never been fucked by two guys at the same time, and not at all in your ass. Maybe you'd even dreamed about it being him. And the mere idea of that had him seeking a bottle of lube, which sat on your nightstand, and starting to prep the two of you. His heart thudded in his chest, just thinking about how tight you would be. 
"If my perfect babygirl wants me there, then I'm happy to oblige," he growled through the pleasure, and you shook your ass at him in response, as you continued to roll your hips against Hyunjin, teasing desperate moans and hitched breaths from his lips. 
He began running his pointer finger against the puckered entrance, and you trembled beneath him, clenching around Hyunjin, who growled a curse. 
"Relax, baby," Changbin crooned, inching his finger slowly inside of you. "I need to stretch you out before you can even hope to take me." 
You choked on a gasp at the foreign sensation, trying to turn around and look. But Hyunjin gripped your jaw to keep you facing him, as he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy, his movements becoming sloppier by the second. So instead, you tangled your hands in your boyfriend's long hair, desperate, ragged sobs muffled by his chest, as he continued to have his way with you. 
"Does that feel good, angel?" Hyunjin stroked the flawless skin of your back, as he snapped his hips up against yours, keeping a cruel pace despite the fact you'd gone boneless on top of him. 
You let out a broken moan, nodding your head as you pressed feverish kisses to neck, and down his chest. Hyunjin shuddered at your touch, continuing to pound into your ruined cunt. 
"Just like that, baby," Changbin praised, kneading the soft skin of your ass, as he gently removed his finger, and inched the tip of his cock past the tight ring of your hole. He trembled at the sensation, vision going foggy with pleasure as he rocked his hips further against you, until he was halfway inside. 
"A-ah shit Bin- I mean, Professor!" you cried, clenching around him instinctively. "Fuck, you're huge." 
"You'll take him, like the slut you are," Hyunjin barked, pulling your hair so you met his gaze. "I bet you like him stretching out your ass like that, huh?" 
"I-I-" you stammered, face reddening. "Y-yes sir, I love it," you croaked, voice cracking, as pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. 
"Tell him what you want," Hyunjin prompted, and you keened against him, arms wrapped around his neck as pleasure thrummed in your veins. 
You slowly turned around to face Changbin, who swallowed hard. He was desperately trying to fend off his already incoming orgasm, but that fucked out look you were giving him was making it damn near impossible. 
"Please go deeper, Professor," you whimpered, voice throatier and more strained than he'd ever heard. "Don't be gentle, I can take it." 
"Fuck, kitten," Changbin uttered, steeling himself for the blinding pleasure that was sure to come. With that, he rolled his hips against your plush ass, and buried himself to the hilt in one harsh thrust. 
The movement drove Hyunjin's cock even deeper inside of your aching pussy, causing the man to let out a surprised, guttural moan. He hit the soft spongy part inside of you that until now, only Changbin had found, and you were shuddering and begging for more, both from the foreign sensation of two men inside of you, and the euphoria of your boyfriend pleasuring you like he never had. 
Fuck, this was going to kill him, was all that echoed through Changbin's muddled mind as he slammed in and out, lost in the suffocating tightness of you, the way you smelled, looked, sounded, as he destroyed you. Even as you clenched around him, he didn't let up his pace, pulling out all the way, only to drive himself home each time. No woman had affected him in the least. Now, he couldn't help but become drunk on your very essence. 
"Sir, Professor, I think I'm close," you whimpered, words slurring together you writhed between them, pussy contracting around Hyunjin like a vice. "C-can I cum now?"
"I'm close too," Hyunjin wheezed, his hips jerking up and down uncontrollably, as he pulled you down for a messy kiss, full of tongue and teeth. "Cum with me baby." 
"Professor, p-please cum inside me?" You shuddered against him, as he leaned down and nipped the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning against your cheek. 
"Shit, I'm already about to bust," he growled, voice strained as he continued to hammer his pulsing cock in and out of you. But he was starting to lose control. You did this to him, made him go insane. "Are you proud of yourself, you little whore? Making me lose my composure like this? Having your professor cum inside you? Fill you up so well?" 
"Oh my god, yes!" you wailed, your entire body arching against the two men who held you between them, tremors wracking your body in waves. Hyunjin was stroking your clit in messy circles, sucking on your neck as he murmured sweet nothings against your skin. "Fuck, you both feel so good, I-I'm gonna-" 
And before you could finish your sentence, you let go for the last time, entire body quivering with the orgasm you'd been desperately waiting for, until tonight. You clutched Hyunjin's hair in your hands, back bowing into Changbin's shuddering hips, as you finished around both men, in a whimpering, spasming mess, crying incoherently, the only words Changbin could understand being "sir", "professor", and "please". 
Hyunjin finished next, gasping out your name as he bullied his throbbing length into you with growing need, letting out soft moans and whines, those full lips devouring yours hungrily, as he fell apart, spilling his load inside of you, milky cum leaking from your pussy down your leg, and onto the blanket. 
Changbin was the last to get there, as he gripped your slender waist so tightly in his rough hands, he thought he might break you. His balls contracted painfully, as he trembled above you, the sensation of you squeezing him as you came almost causing him to pass out. "Mine, mine mine," he repeated, harshly sucking the skin on your neck as you nearly collapsed underneath him. But he pulled you up, and held you flush against his chest, continuing to pound mercilessly in and out of you, grunting and growling into your soft hair. His hips twitched and jerked, and he came inside you, so hard he had to hold onto you for purchase. 
The three of you collapsed onto the mattress, your tongue lolling from your mouth, completely fucked out, body still wracked with the shockwaves of the intense lovemaking. Hyunjin curled into you, becoming the little spoon, as he kissed the backs of your hands, murmuring praise upon praise. 
"You did so good, pretty girl," he murmured adoringly, as you continued to play with his hair, kissing up and down his neck and giggling sleepily. 
Changbin watched the two of them, a distinct sensation of discomfort washing over him. He'd done his job, which was helping your and Hyunjin's sex life. And now the two of you were clearly happy without him. He should probably see himself out. 
But as he started to grab his clothes and get dressed, you rolled over to face him, a confused look on your face. 
"Bin, where are you going?" you asked, voice hoarse with overuse. You looked as beautiful as ever, hair wild and messy, skin glowing after getting properly fucked by the two men you were obsessed with. 
Changbin swallowed, forcing himself to be cordial. "I thought now that I did my job, I should leave." 
You reached a hand out to him, a pleading smile lighting your face. You glanced at Hyunjin for approval, and he nodded. "What if I didn't want you to leave, Professor?" 
Changbin smiled, cheeks warming. "Then I'd stay for as long as you like."
laska’s note —
well well well… if you’re reading this note, you must have reached the end of this one shot, and (probably) the end of the two-part series! if you haven’t read the first part, yes, professor, i have it linked at the beginning of this post. i promise, it’s worth the read, and this one shot might make more sense. 
i apologize for the very long wait, i know many of you have been eagerly awaiting another installment! i hope it was worth it, even though it was incredibly long 🫣 i hold myself to a high standard when it comes to my writing, so i combed through this thing multiple times. i hope it lived up to your expectations, and i hope i will have more time to write spicy one shots for you all in the new year, because i have a lot of great ideas 😏
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hungermakesmonsters · 2 days ago
Text
The Red Ribbon
Chapter One
Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R 
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 
Word Count : 6k
A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos
Master List
Chapter One
“Remind me why I hired you?”
His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.
Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”
“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.
It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.
“What was that?” He asked.
It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.
“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”
“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”
“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.
“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.
As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  
There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.
“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”
“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”
He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.
You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.
The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 
The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.
You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 
The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 
At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.
If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.
You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.
But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.
And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.
By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.
The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 
New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.
You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.
Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.
You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.
The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.
You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.
Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.
The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 
“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.
You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.
“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.
He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.
After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 
“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.
And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.
Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.
“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.
You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.
As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.
After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 
He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.
“What can I get you?” You asked.
“Another scotch would be great.”
“Sure thing.”
You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 
“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.
For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.
“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.
“I’d remember seeing you.”
He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.
“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.
He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.
“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.
“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.
His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.
“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”
You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.
Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.
“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 
“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.
His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.
“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.
His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.
“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”
Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.
You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.
“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.
“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.
“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”
“You have no idea...”
It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 
“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.
“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”
“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”
“Another?” 
You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.
“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.
“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.
Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.
“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”
“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”
“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”
He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.
“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”
Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.
“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.
“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.
“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.
“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.
He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.
“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”
“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”
He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 
They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.
“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.
When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.
“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.
It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.
“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.
“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.
“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.
“Should I ask?”
Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.
“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.
Oh.
Shit.
You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”
“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”
“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”
“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.
“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.
“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”
“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”
It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.
“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”
Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.
“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”
“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”
That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.
“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 
“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.
You took a second to consider your answer.
“Jellyfish.”
“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 
“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”
“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.
There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.
“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.
Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.
“What do you hate most about New York?” 
“Hate?” He repeated.
“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.
You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.
“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”
You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.
“When was the last time you used the subway?”
“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.
“Fine. Your turn.”
“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”
“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”
The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.
“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.
“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”
“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”
“Normally I don’t need lines.”
“No?”
“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.
You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.
“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.
“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.
“Emphasis on the filthy part.”
He smirked at that.
The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.
“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.
“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”
There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.
“You like baseball?”
“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”
“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”
Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.
“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.
“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.
And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.
“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.
“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.
“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.
There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 
“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.
“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”
Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.
“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”
He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.
“I thought it was my turn.”
“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”
“We could be friends.”
“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”
“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.
“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”
The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.
He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.
“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.
Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).
And he watched you, too.
Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.
So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.
Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.
One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”
Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.
You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 
“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.
“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”
It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.
Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.
“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.
Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.
“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”
“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”
Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.
“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”
“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.
He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 
It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.
Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.
You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.
You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.
No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.
I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.
A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.
Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.
He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...
Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.
Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 
He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.
As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.
A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).
As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.
Anyway, thanks for reading!
Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.
Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx
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demon-country · 2 days ago
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Oh good, I'm glad this hasn't come off as me trying to pick a fight. I enjoy discussing how people came to the conclusions they did (as long it's not with someone who outright hates the characters in question), but I know not everyone does.
And I mean, sure, there's no concrete evidence that he knows their names, but there's not any that he doesn't, either. Given what we do know about him though and given how much time has past, it makes far less sense to lean towards the negative assumption. Like I said, we know, for a fact, that Blitz and Stolas have interacted through multiple phone calls specifically talking about what Blitz has been up to in his day to day life and on social media, with the subtext being that they both happened often enough to be significant, and the idea that Blitz has somehow never mentioned those two by name within the year and a half they were in contact is incredibly implausible.
Well yes, the interactions Stolas has on screen with his current butler have been pretty bad (and in Seeing Stars was outright abusive, and although it was done because he was so blinded by rage at Stella that he didn't realize how hard he was squeezing, that's no excuse and we have no way of knowing if he even apologized for it or not). He definitely developed more racial and class biases as he grew up and was influenced by the other Goetia and undoubtedly also by the media he consumed, but that's rather beside my point. My point in bringing up his former butler was that he's proof that Blitz is not the first imp that Stolas has genuinely, personally cared about, which is what you insinuated. Or at least, what it seemed like you were insinuating?
I rather doubt that Stolas does care about the other members of I.M.P on a personal level or that they care about him on a personal level, because it's very unlikely that they've had any meaningful interactions other than when Stolas was dying of blood loss and potentially him thanking them for it. But he doesn't have to care about them to know their names or to know some stuff about them. As long as Blitz talked about them enough - and it'd be far stranger if he didn't bring them up fairly often when talking about his day or in his posts on social media, when they're the only people in his social circle and he works/lives with them - then Stolas would inevitably know their names just by sheer repetition.
Hence why I said it was in pretty bad faith to assume he doesn't know their names. I do wish we had seen them interact more, but to be fair the only times that we've seen Stolas at all up until now is mostly just for the scenes that set up future plot points for him and Blitz.
I suppose we'll only know for sure if they address it next episode though.
Does Stolas deserve to lose everything?
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The answer is a simple: No! Of course not!
What happened to Stolas in Mastermind was horrible, he essentially lost everything he ever knew in a very cruel and unusual way, and the real kicker is the fact that the punishment is rather light in comparison to the punishment Blitz would have gotten if he hadn't stepped in.
But why did it happen? Simple.
It happened for the sake of Stolas' future character development.
It didn't happen to "punish" Stolas when the man really only has the best of intentions.
Surprise! Surprise!
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I want to highlight this specific statement Apology Tour's description states: Stolas still not being quite self aware enough at times.
Stolas genuinely does not know what is wrong between them, he genuinely can not understand the issues
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If there is one thing Stolas has always wanted to know, it's the why...
Why is Blitz so guarded with me? Why does Blitz accuse me of looking down on him? Why does Blitz always mention my Princely status when talking about our relationship?
And here's the thing, even if Blitz were to sit Stolas down calmly and explain the why, Stolas will never get it. He will never understand it.
Stolas will never understand the struggles Blitz went through and still goes through just by living as an imp.
Blitz is an asshole, but you can't say he isn't determined.
When Blitz wants something so fucking bad, he'll get it, it doesn't matter who he needs to steal from, who he needs to fuck, who he needs to kill, lie, and cheat with... He's going to get it.
Blitz wants to be his own boss, he doesn't want to be like any other imp who works for someone else, so he'll do whatever it takes to make that dream a reality.
And the thing is Stolas wants to do better and understand Blitz's point of view... he states it time and time again.
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Unless it's me And no matter what in this world I could give It's not enough To get through the walls you've conjured up to live
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But maybe it's all on me For missin' every sign and every glance And every turn
Maybe there's somethin' here for us to glean For you to teach, and me to try to learn
~~~
The sad part is that Stolas is just going to have to learn it the hard way because where's the fun in just giving Stolas a book to read...
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kinda-indecisive · 2 days ago
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・˳ . ⋆ .˳⋆ Face Kisses pt. II ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳
Basically how I imagine their reactions to an onslaught of face kisses from you (MC). Fluff.
Part 2: The Rafayel and Sylus Edition!
+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★
Rafayel
Enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your ear, you are already comfortably nestled into your spot on his lap, arms lazily hung around his neck as he continues to flip quietly through the gallery catalog over your head.
A catalog Thomas had sent Rafayel to review a week ago, which you feel kinda guilty about.
Usually, Thomas can trust you to keep Raf in check, pushing him to slough through the boring stuff so that the two of you can spend the rest of your time together doing other, more exciting things. This past week, however, you had been having a really frustrating time dealing with a particularly nasty group of Wanderers that kept reappearing at the most inopportune times and locations. And, when you showed up in his studio, he noticed something was off instantly.
He’d taken it on as his duty to pull you out of your slump of frustration, dragging you from marketplace to marketplace, shop to shop, beach to beach, hoping to get your mind off of those “creativity sucking Wanderers with bad attitudes”. And that was just on the first day. All week, he’s been there the second you wake up, chattering excitedly about where you two were off to next. And, in all honesty, having him around has kinda helped.
And although you didn’t say it out loud, he sensed this, too. Hence the only reason he has finally given you a second to breathe, curled up in his lap on the sofa, the beach breeze gently blowing at the white curtains, and the only other movement in the room being his occasional page turning.
When he hums softly in disdain at something, you are snapped out of your comfy daze.
You really do appreciate how much effort he puts in to make you feel better at times like these. And even though he insists on brushing it off as no big deal (“I already needed to make a trip to this shop, cutie, you just saved me from having to go alone” ), you know that his actions have always spoken much louder, and much more clearly, than his words.
Your heart nearly bursts at how true the thought is and you shift in his lap to look down at him.
He groans loudly, setting the catalog aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he pouts up at you, “Why are you moving around so much? I was perfectly comfortable staying how we were before and I’ll never get any work done if you keep squirming…”
He continues to pout, even when you take his face between your palms. Such a nice face belonging to someone with such a good heart. An absolutely gorgeous face, even if he does keep that indignant little scowl and crease between his brows.
You kiss this space between his brows first, which makes his eyebrows raise in surprise. But before he even has a chance to collect himself from this initial surprise, you continue planting small kisses to cover the rest of his face, making sure to leave no space neglected.
“Alright, alright,” he says once you’ve already finished, clearing his throat and turning his face away, “You’re treating me like some kind of puppy. I’m not your pet, y’know.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and pretends to be annoyed, his face still turned away. His refusal to look you in the eye, however, only gives you a better view of his bright red ears and cheeks, betraying exactly how he feels about the attention he just received.
“Oh? Well, I guess if you didn’t like that, I shouldn’t do it ever again. I admittedly still don’t know much about what kind of behavior is accepted in Lemuria. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything,” you say, pretending to get up from his lap.
He catches your wrist and gently pulls you back down, giving you that signature head tilt and grin when he reassures you.
“Aw, well, I get it. You are still pretty new to this Lemurian thing. Besides, it wasn’t too horrible,” he says, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He swipes it away nonchalantly, continuing, “I could maybe suffer through such treatment once or twice a month. Or a week. Or even once a day if you really felt the strong desire to. You humans and your customs are weird, but I can be a good sport about some of them.”
“No, no, there’s no need,” you continue to tease, pretending to stand once again, “I really should be more mindful when it comes to these kinds of things.”
“No, I insist. As a matter of fact…” he says, catching your wrist again and tugging you back down to sit in his lap, simultaneously managing to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from getting up again, “...dontcha think it’s my turn to give this newfound custom a try?”
+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★
Sylus
When you arrive at the N109 Zone, it’s almost noon. Therefore you aren’t surprised that Sylus is still in his room, is still asleep, and is not quite ready to compromise that sleep for anyone or anything.
You know that technically doesn’t include you, but you don’t want to ruin his rest, so you leave him be for now. Instead, you decide to check out some more rooms in this grand house.
Your visits to the N109 zone have been much more frequent, despite this past week apart. But before this last week, you had come and gone with a frequency that Sylus had finally seemed pleased with.
In that time, you had familiarized yourself with many of the rooms of this mansion already. That being said, you could almost swear that Sylus brought in something new every single day, so there’s always something new to discover on your visits.
And now you find yourself faltering before a suit of armor you hadn’t noticed before. It must have been pure white at one time, but now has gone dark from wear, age, and transportation. The armor wasn’t made for someone of Sylus’s size, and you wonder what about it made him want to add it to his collection. You try to resonate with it to get something off of it, but nothing really happens.
Soon, however, you grow tired of the silent house and the suit of armor. You figure that a small nap never hurt anyone. Besides, it feels like you haven’t seen Sylus in ages, even though it’s only been a week. A long, tedious week of Wanderers and stuck up clients who you sometimes thought about leaving to fend off the Wanderers themselves.
Slipping into his bedroom, his bedside lamp is on. The dim light casts strange shadows around the room, but softly illuminates the man on the bed.
Walking around the bed, you crawl onto the mattress and begin to make yourself comfy, trying to do it slowly so you don’t disturb he who breathes deeply beside you. Once settled, you roll over to face him.
His normally strong features look so soft in this lighting, and his brow is furrowed slightly in his sleep, his expression one of a man concerned. Your heart aches a little as you realize just how much you’ve missed him this week despite trying to convince yourself you were better off without his incessant teasing. Reaching out, you mean to brush your fingertips over his cheekbones, but you suddenly hesitate before touching him. He sleeps so lightly sometimes and you don’t want to be the reason he can’t fall back to sleep.
But it’s already too late.
That frown of concern shifts into confusion as his eyes open—the color as bright and striking as ever—then relief when he sees you, sleepily taking your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers. Rolling onto his side, he smiles faintly at the sight of you tucked in beside him.
“I’m not dreaming, am I, sweetie?” he murmurs, his already deep voice even deeper with sleep, “It’s been 8 days and a few hours since I saw you last.”
“You keep count?” you tease as he brings your wrist to his lips.
“Maybe I do,” he says with a huff and a shrug, his still-heavy eyelids closing again. You know he isn’t asleep, however, by the sound of his annoyed grunt when you try to slip your hand out of his grasp, “Leaving already?”
“No, I just want to get more comfortable.”
His eyes still closed, he allows you to take your hand back. You start to settle in beside him, but thinking about how lovely and worried he’d looked when you first came in, you suddenly have an idea to hopefully help soothe whatever dreams he’d been having.
His brow furrows again when you take his face in-between your hands, but a smug little smile is quick to replace it as you place feather-light little kisses against every inch of his face.
He sinks deeper into the mattress as you do, his entire body relaxing as you surge with gratitude for the fact that he shares this vulnerable side with you and only you. By the time you finish, his smug smile has faded softly as he dozes off and on again.
“Hmm? Is that all?” he hums. Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, sliding back into the blankets, grabbing his arm and drawing it around you as well. Nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck, he murmurs with a voice as smooth as velvet, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s been a hell of a week and I needed that.”
“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, “Now go back to sleep, Sylus.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 1: Xavier and Zayne Edition
A Short Little Tag List! 💕 (I hope you enjoy :))
@lemurianmaster @myeagleexpert
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chaos-in-deepspace · 2 days ago
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LADS Xavier: Seasonal Moods | SFW
I've been feeling really off the past few days with a swirl of negative, self deprecating emotions, and decided to attempt to cheer myself up by writing some comfort. The newest event with Xavier really drove home the point to me that he would be the best at helping his depressed partner.
I know I'm probably not the only one who feels like this, and with winter being here I know a lot of us with year round depression if getting hit a bit harder than normal, so if this is you, I hope you can find a little comfort with this fic. Remember you're loved and cherished and the voices in your head feeding you all these negative thoughts are lying to you.
Anyways, I didn't proof read this as I didn't have the energy so I apologize for typos.
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❧ Pairings: Xavier x Reader ❧ Warnings: Depressed Reader, Non Sexual Intimacy, Non Sexual Nudity ❧ Synopsis: Sometimes seasons make sad moods worse, but sometimes people in your life can help make it a little better. ❧ Word Count: 2.2k
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Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.
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Blog Information | Masterlist
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Xavier
Seasonal Moods
You were feeling…some sort of way. It wasn’t a particularly good feeling in you, in fact you’d say it was rather the opposite of good. You felt dreadful, and for no reason other than it was winter. You had less sunlight, colder weather, and with that sometimes came a certain melancholic sadness that washed over you. You just felt…horrible.
Whenever you saw your friends together it felt more like they were almost ignoring you, even Tara seemed more distant from you. You knew logically it was all in your head, that these things weren’t happening, but it didn’t make you feel any better. It was like you were looking at every outing through a glass, you were there but there was something separating you from all the others.
You felt like you couldn’t reach out even if you wanted to. When everyone was having fun it felt like you bringing anything up would ruin the atmosphere. So you began distancing yourself as much as possible. Putting your phone on silent and saying you were asleep or busy when questioned why you didn’t answer, claiming you had something going on when invited out, the whole works. If you were forced to reply in message threads, it was easy enough to have some self confidence and fire at least. As long as you didn’t come face to face with others, most thought you were doing just fine. It did work, for the most part.
There was just one person who didn’t buy the facade.
Xavier.
How he always managed to know when something was slightly off with your mood was a quality in him you both admired and hated. He was your hunting partner, your neighbor, your friend, and possibly something more, but you two hadn’t had that discussion yet. You probably had just spent so much time together in the past few months he was able to easily tell when you were acting different. It shouldn't have surprised you, not with how observant he always seemed to be when it came to you.
You just wished he didn’t care so much, that he couldn’t tell you were depressed. That way you could easily distance yourself from him like you did with everyone else until you worked out your own thoughts and emotions. Sure it might’ve taken all winter to begin feeling better, but at least he didn’t have to see you like this.
He had made a surprise visit while you were in your bed, scrolling through funny videos in an attempt to distract yourself from your thoughts. You had managed to slip up at work and gotten a very minor injury, but it was enough to force you to take a few days off. You hated that more than anything. At least at work it kept you busy so you didn’t have time to deal with your emotions. When you were at home by yourself it seemed to only amplify the darker thoughts in your head.
“Hey,” his soft voice had startled you at first and you flinched, locking your phone and putting it against your chest. You closed your eyes, hoping he hadn’t seen you were awake on your phone. You were laying on your side, facing away from the door to your bedroom, so there was a…low chance.
Then you felt the bed dipping as he sat down, and you felt his hand threading through your hair so gently you leaned into it, “There we are, you are awake after all.” He said, the laugh he had was a little airy and you finally glanced at him. He was wearing his signature white hoodie at the moment and his hair was a little disheveled as if he just woke up a few minutes ago, “How are you feeling?”
“My side hurts, but other than that it’s fine. I can sleep it off.” You quickly said, slowly leaning away from his hand and placing your head back on the pillow.
“Have you already changed the bandages?”
“Yes.”
“Have you eaten today.”
Silence filled the air as you thought about that. You didn’t even know what time it was, let alone if you hadn’t eaten. The days were melding together, so you weren’t sure. You could see the sun was setting beyond the horizon…or perhaps it was just coming up. You had been doing nothing but bed rotting the past few days, sleeping on and off, and only getting up when you needed to use the restroom or when you realized how dry your throat was. When was the last time you even showered?
“I’ll take that as a no.” He said with another laugh, but this time it was less enthusiastic, “How about I go make you something real fast.”
This had you grabbing his wrist quickly, stopping him in his tracks, “What are you planning on making?” while Xavier had slowly gotten better at cooking foods, using things like the oven or stove top was still a hit or miss situation.
“It’s a bit chilly today so how about some ramen?” he suggested. Xavier could see the way your shoulders seemed to sag in relief at his suggestion. You weren’t particularly hungry, but you knew food would probably be good.
“That sounds good to me.”
“Alright, wait here, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Xavier ran his hands through your hair again, scratching at your scalp and you wanted to flinch away. It was probably oily and gross and you didn’t want him to feel it.
You felt the bed shift again as he got up and the door closed behind him, leaving you alone again. You stared at the wall in silence, wondering if maybe you should get up and tell him he can go home, that you were capable of taking care of yourself right now. It would be a lie, sure, but you didn’t want him fretting over you. You didn’t deserve his attention when you were the one who dug this self deprecating hole yourself.
You didn’t have the energy though, and instead just laid there and waited for him to come back. Once again you didn’t know how much time had passed, it could’ve been hours or even seconds, it all felt relatively the same to you. The door opened back and you could smell the savory ramen, he had made one of your favorite flavors…again he was far too observant. The bed dipped and you heard items being placed on the nightstand next to you.
“Come on, let me help you sit up.” Xavier said, slowly lifting your body into a sitting up position. You felt him grabbing pillows to help prop you up in the bed and you sighed when the warm ramen was placed in your hands alongside chopsticks, “Eat up, I’m sure you’re starving without even realizing it.” He said. You glanced back at him, noticing how he was eating as well, blowing on the steaming noodles before taking a bite.
You followed the motions, noticing that, for some odd reason, the food tasted a little better than usual. The moment you took the first bite it was like your body kick started and you realized you were pretty damn hungry. You two ate in silence side by side on your bed, and by the time you finished you were being handed a nice cool glass of water to sip on. He let you just be for the time being, not saying anything but just being there. He helped clean up the empty containers and when he came back to the room he was shifting you again, picking you up.
Your hands found purchase around his shoulders, “Xavier, what are you doing?” you quickly ask, not understanding why you were suddenly being carried somewhere.
“To the shower.” It was simple enough of a statement, but you felt a wash of shame overtaking you. So he had noticed, of course he did.
You gave a strained laugh, “I must smell pretty bad if you’re dragging me to the shower…sorry about that.” You murmured, trying to make light of the situation.
“You don’t smell bad,” He quickly stated, “and even if you did, I don’t mind.” The door to the bathroom opened and he placed you on top of the counter, “I just realized you probably hadn’t had the energy to do it, so I’m helping.”
Your face felt a bit hotter now as you avoided him, “I’m not that injured.” You muttered under your breath.
“It’s not the injury I’m worried about.” Xavier was already working your clothes off, tossing the fabrics you’d been wearing for days off to the laundry basket you kept in the bathroom. It was almost overflowing with clothes at this point, and while you wanted to be embarrassed being stripped bare in front of him, his eyes weren’t focused on your body. He was more focused on taking care of you, which you didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse.
“Then why are you fussing over me so much if it’s not because of the injury?” you finally asked, watching as he went to turn the shower on to a warm temperature.
He began taking his own clothes off as he answered you, “You haven’t been yourself lately. Tara had even come up to me and asked if you were alright. I was going to wait a bit and see if you’d reach out, but I can’t wait too long when I knew you were here by yourself.” He explained, “You haven’t answered my messages like normal, and any time I try to make plans you say your busy, I got worried.”
His words were earnest and made you feel even worse about yourself. Congratulations to you, you’ve managed to make the sweetest man you knew feel bad and worry over nothing.
“I’m sorry…” it was all you could say as he began dragging you into the shower. His hands were already working on getting your hair wet so he could properly wash it for you. He didn’t know your entire hair routine, but at the very least your scalp would be clean. Anything else could be taken care of when you felt better.
“Don’t apologize.” He said, his words a bit sterner, “I’m not upset with you. You’re allowed to reach out whenever you want, or not at all. It won’t change the fact that I care about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.” He explained.
“If I hadn’t been so distant though, you wouldn’t be so worried.” You explained, “It’s my fault.”
“Is it also your fault that your brain decided to make you sad for no reason?”
“Yes.”
“No, it isn’t.” He said, rinsing out shampoo from your hair and putting in some conditioner, “It’s not. Sometimes things just happen. I wanted to be here for you, it’s as simple as that. I’ll continue being here for you as well, whether your sad or happy, and that’s of my own free will. You have nothing to apologize for, besides, I like being able to take care of you like this. I wish it were under better circumstances, but that’s no fault of yours.” He explained.
You didn’t know what to say, honestly, so you didn’t say anything at all. Instead you just let him wash you, and then you were being wrapped up in a fluffy towel and dried. The hoodie he had some in was placed over you, the smell of him taking over your senses. He put on the blue shirt he always wore underneath it and finished getting you two dressed. He went back to carrying you, but instead of going to your bedroom, he carried you out into your living room.
There were a lot of things you expected, but seeing a giant blanket fort with fairy lights, the TV on with a movie already prepared, and some soothing smells coming from an oil diffuser that you were certain you didn’t own…it hadn’t been what you expected.
He placed you down onto the soft blankets and you noticed a box of mini cupcakes next to you, all of them having cute designs in an assortment of flavors, “Tara bought those for you,” Xavier said, “She said when you’re feeling better she wants to take you to this new bakery that opened up, that’s where those came from.”
“I should message her soon.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate hearing from you, but for now.” You felt Xavier getting into the fort with you, pulling you against his chest as he started an older movie. It had cartoon characters and you recognized it as one of your favorites growing up. You were certain you had only spoke of it once with him, but of course he remembered, “Let’s just relax for the rest of the night, okay?” he said.
“Ya…I  like the sound of that.” You got out. You still felt a bit numb, still felt off. It did make you feel better though, especially when you saw some lights from his evol, a little bunny he made, bouncing around. It was enough to make you genuinely smile for the first time in a while. Perhaps…being taken care of wasn’t so bad.
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authenticbunni · 1 day ago
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There is no mental fighting/struggle
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Girl you is lost. Manifesting is not that complicated at all. You just have to simply decide.
Before you scroll, I know you’ve seen people say that all the time, and it just never wrapped around your complexed mind. I used to have that problem too, I feel you. I have a complexed mind, and even though most people say you don’t have to know everything, I did so I can wrap it around my mind and knowing more actually helped me de-complex my mind. Now that I understand it I’m going to explain some reason as to maybe why you’ve been struggling to just decide.
I’ve put it into two parts if you don’t feel like you need to read everything. Accountability and 4D = 3D NOT 3D = 4D
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Accountability
I think where you go wrong is not realizing everything in your life that you’ve ever interacted with or did is from your thoughts. You’re still in a mindset of “how could this have happened? This is not my fault? This is not my doing?” Now that’s human, people always try to blame, don’t beat yourself up. But when you’re trying to manifest and blame every single thing in your life on everyone else, you’re never going to manifest because you can’t take accountability. If you can’t take accountability of your own life, how can you even have full control over your own life.
That was a really hard pill for me to swallow, when it came to taking accountability for the doings in my life. TRUST ME! When I had to move away from Florida, when I had a brutal falling out with my bf. I had to realize that was my fault. Both of those were not in my favor or desires, but I thought so much about those outcomes that it eventually happened.
Once you take accountability you realize the only thing you’ve been struggling with is you. The only thing you’ve been fighting off is you. The only struggle you’ve been going through is you. You have accepted those thoughts into your mind, and now you’ve become them. Now, don’t get panicky or feel like you gotta do a whole bunch of stuff to get past this. Just simply let them pass. Know that these are just thoughts and you have the power to accept and decline them with ease, because you’re subconscious mind always follows your lead without thinking twice.
4D = 3D NOT 3D = 4D
What I mean by the equation is. Your imagination controls/creates your reflection. Your mind is your true reality, and your 3D reflects that. Your 3D does not make you, you make you
4D = reality
3D = reflection (of your 4D)
Stop separating the two, they are always in the same equation. Your 3D is as changeable and flexible as your imagination. I didn’t realize this until I actually saw it happen.
Back to the brutal falling out with my bf. Prior we were just friends but he was pretty regular, talking here, having conversations. But due to dwelling in negative thoughts, in less than I think 1 or 2 days he completely took a 180 and flipped the switch. He hated me, and never wanted to talk to me. During this is completely shock on why this would happened because “I thought I was doing everything right” after a few I realize I was more strong on thinking he hated me, saw me as a nuisance. (Okay that’s enough, I don’t wanna talk about it tm cuz I’m manifesting him back) but that was the work of my manifestation.
As of right now that’s all I can think of, I might make another post or add on to this post. But yeah, those are the reasons I think people have a hard time with. If you feel like this wasn’t enough details for you, that’s fine I’m glad I at least helped u a lil bit 😋.
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djarins-cyare · 6 hours ago
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(Angsty) WIP Weekend
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Thank you to the following lovelies for tagging me in various WIP posts over the past month (you are all wonderful 💚):
@ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @quinnnfabrgay-writes
@secretelephanttattoo @the-blind-assassin-12 @the-mandawhor1an
Once again, I’m humbly offering up a snippet because I’m still eyeball-deep in the writing stage of my (now several months late) Secret Relationship fic for the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge. It now stands at just over 57k words, but I swear I only have two more chapters to write. Happily, I have a whole 3 weeks off work over the holidays, so I’m aiming to release it next month.
I won’t bore you with why I had to expand it again, but let’s just say angst fans will be well-fed.
In fact, since my previous WIP offerings from this fic (see here, here, and here) have mostly been smut-adjacent, I’ve decided to give you a taste of the angst for a change…
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(Sorry it’s shorter than my usual snippets; it’s tough to find a decent chunk I can share without spoiling anything)
You fight for a week. Each day, he comes over, imploring you to calm down, eat something, see his point of view. He tries every tactic – soft words, hard orders, pleading eyes – but every attempt only feels like salt in a wound that will never close. Each day, you hurl back insults, curses, and even whatever objects are within reach. A glass shatters against the wall near his head. A boot catches him in the gut. You hope each impact carries a fraction of the pain he’s inflicted on you. You scream a lot. You scream until your throat is raw and you taste blood. Sometimes, your screams are molten with fury, blistering the air. Other times, they collapse into broken, keening wails, your voice trembling with the weight of all the misery you can’t contain. You cry a lot. You cry until there’s nothing left – until the tears burn instead of soothe. The memories torture you whenever your eyes close, echoes of your dreams being torn apart in a single evening. With every tear you try to blink away, your losses replay on the back of your eyelids with excruciating clarity. Your body can’t handle the strain. Your hands tremble constantly, whether from exhaustion or rage, you no longer know. Your chest feels tight; every breath is an effort. Sleep offers no relief; it’s a battlefield of nightmares that leave you thrashing and gasping awake. Yet you don’t stop fighting. You can’t stop. It’s the only shield against the endless void threatening to swallow you whole. Fighting is all you have left now.
The high level of angst will be balanced by an equally high level of smut, don’t worry 😏. But the good stuff needs to be earned.
As usual, if you’d like me to tag you when I release the chapters, please raise your hand or communicate your wish however you see fit. You can also join my tag list if you like.
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Apparently, Tumblr is now limiting the number of links per post, which includes tags 😡. Since my WIP posts aren’t particularly frequent, I always try to tag as many people as possible, so I guess I’ll just put them in a reblog…
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sweetdispatch · 1 day ago
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Vicious - M. Rempe
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Songs masterlist
song: Vicious - Tate McRae
pairing: Matt Rempe x fem!reader
summary: Since high school, Matt and his girlfriend had been together until he decided to choose his career over her
warning: swear words
words: 1.0k
note: based on request! ps. requests are open again
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Watching you beg on your knees
Month after you and Matt broke up, he started calling you. He wanted to apologise and explain to you how big of a mistake he made and how much you mean to him. You never answered any of his calls. He started writing to you. Texts, DMs, everywhere he could. He wanted to have you back in his life. You never responded. Only read the messages and laughed at his desperation. 
You were sure that if he did it right after break up, you would accept him back in your life but now? Now, you are free. You were fulfilling yourself and not putting him in the first place. As much as you missed him, you knew you deserved better than him. Especially after how he treated you. It was a tough break up for you but you learned that you don’t need a man to make you happy. 
Didn’t know what you had
Gotta live with that for the rest of your life
Matt always took you for granted. He barely noticed what you were doing to make his life easier. He never saw that you were cleaning the whole apartment, preparing his meals and taking care of him and his hockey gear. For him it was normal to have everything handed to him on a plate. He realised how much you were doing for him, when he lost you and had to do it by himself.
Now, Matt had to take care of everything. He hardly had time to clean the apartment, his cooking skills were limited so the meals weren’t as tasteful as yours and when he was feeling sick or he was hurt, there was no one to cuddle him and take care of him. He learned that he needed you more in his life than he thought. He missed you and your presence and realised that it was wrong to not appreciate you enough.
Last night, I cried a little
Now I, I’m fine
The day Matt decided to pick his career over you, you felt like your world was falling apart. He was a huge part of your teens and helped you to be the person you are now. You had many conversations that you’re gonna make it work no matter what. That his hockey career won’t ruin your relationship. You never gave him a reason to pick between you and hockey. His decision was unclear for you. 
You were crying for a couple of days. Everything was reminding you of Matt. Every little thing in your apartment had a meaning and you felt like you’re suffocating in this place. You left to spend the days at your friend’s place but this didn’t help. You were still crying like crazy over him. 
Now, you feel like a brand new person. You didn’t cry anymore. You moved on and focused on yourself. You believed that if this happened, it happened for a reason. Matt was your past and nothing could change it. You returned to your apartment and decided to create new memories with your friends to forget about his presence there. You healed after the breakup.
Understand it’s out of your hands
When Matt told you that he’s leaving for New York to play hockey, you never thought that this would lead to your break up. You always believed that the two of you will be in a long distance relationship. At least this is what you promised to each other. You were ready for this but apparently, he wasn’t. 
At first, you didn’t know why Matt did it. With time, you got into the sense that it was out of his control, that he didn’t know what he’s doing. You believed that he didn’t know how to combine a relationship with hockey over a long distance. Nevertheless, he made his decision and there was no way you'll ever bring him back into your life. He chose hockey over you.
Glad you have your regrets
Hope you feel like that ‘til the day you die
First summer after the breakup, Matt felt terrible. He missed you like crazy. He wanted to have you back again next to him. He started having regrets about the breakup. He realised that he messed up and wanted to fix it. He arrived at the door of your apartment and begged you to forgive him and give him another chance. 
You laughed at his attempt. You moved on from him for good. No matter how much you loved him, you didn’t want to be hurt again by him. Matt broke your trust and there was no way he would ever fix it. You didn’t even want him to try. You felt great being single and having to care about him. 
You openly told him that you can forgive him but not forget. You didn’t want to be friends with him, in fact you don’t want to have anything to do with him. He can have all the regrets. You wished him good luck in the future but deep down, you hoped that he’ll remember you forever and how he fucked up. 
Last kiss, leave your lips blood red
Before Matt left your apartment defeated, you brought him into a hug. No matter how much you hated him for what he did to your relationship, you still had feelings for him. He was your first love and wanted to remember the good moments with him. He hugged you tightly, trying to memorise your body and smell before he left you.
You stepped back from the hug and grabbed his cheeks. You kissed him for the last time. This kiss was full of emotions and none of you wanted to break it. After a couple of seconds, which felt like forever, you pulled out of him. Matt looked at you for the final time and left you forever.
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brownsugaboba · 3 days ago
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title: “Chapter 2: Back in The Day: Simpler Times.”
december 19th, 2024.
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bruce wayne x reader.
- black reader. (anyone can read but emphasis on black.)
- 19+. (this chapter is NOT 19+, however future chapters will be.)
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the wayne manor library was quiet, except for the soft ticking of an antique clock on the wall. the stretch of leather-bound book casted long shadows across the room, but neither bruce nor yourself paid much mind to the dark night. you both, after all, had spent countless hours there as children, so the familiar surroundings felt comforting, nostalgic even.
bruce sat in his usual armchair, a glass of scotch resting on the side table beside him, while you were sat on the edge of the window seat. your posture was relaxed, though your eyes held the same quiet look they always had. you two had been talking for hours, reliving memories from a time when the world seemed simpler, before tragedy reshaped both of your lives.
"remember the time we tried to build that treehouse in the oak behind the manor?" you asked, a small smile tugging at your two tones lips as you recalled the memory.
"we thought we could build it all by ourselves, even though we barely knew the difference between a hammer and a nail."
bruce couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound rare and warm. "i think we still managed to get it up, though. it was only after a week when alfred found it that we realized we had left half of it unfinished."
"that’s because you kept insisting we needed more space for all our 'secret' things," she teased. "i think you were just trying to escape your parents."
bruce’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but it didn’t go unnoticed. you saw it and immediately reached out to place a hand on his.
the unspoken bond you had shared since childhood had always been something that transcended words, even now. you both had known loss too young, your parents taken from you in different ways but with the same devastating finality.
"i never thanked you enough for being there for me back then," bruce said quietly. "for always knowing when i needed someone."
your voice was equally as soft. "you don’t have to thank me, bruce. you were my best friend, too. we were always there for each other."
you two went into a slight silence, the weight of unspoken grief settling between you both. the passing of your parents was still something neither one of you had truly come to terms with, but it had shaped you both in ways you couldn’t fully explain.
"i miss them," bruce said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
"i miss him." the words for his father, thomas wayne, hung in the air.
"i miss her too," you said. "my dad... he was always so proud of you, bruce. he admired you, even when you were just a little kid who'd sneak into the hospital to watch him work."
bruce’s lips twisted into a faint yet gentle grin, but the sadness was still there. "he never knew when to stop talking about his work. your father… he used to give me tips on how to stay focused during surgeries, even though i wasn’t sure if I’d ever need them."
"and you did. in your own way," you replied. you squeezed his hand before letting go.
"you turned out more like him than you think."
bruce met your gaze, his eyes betraying a sense of emotion he rarely showed. he stopped himself from reaching for your hand again, wanting to hold it for comfort.
"and you turned out like your dad in the best ways. i’m sorry we both had to go through that loss together."
"i think we’re both sorry for that," she said softly.
the conversation shifted after a moment, the past lingering like a shadow, but they had moved on. the reason you were there became clearer. you were still family, and today was no exception.
"selina’s wedding," bruce said, finally having the courage to say it. "that is why you came all this way, no?"
you sighed, crossing your arms. "i’m not here for the wedding itself, bruce. i’m here because i know how much it’s going to hurt you to see her walking down that aisle."
bruce closed his eyes for a moment, the pain evident. "she deserves happiness. i knew that the moment she let me go. but it doesn’t make it any easier."
you nodded. "i know. but you’ve always been too good at hiding how much things affect you. and you can’t hide that from me when i do the same thing. it’s not healthy."
before bruce could respond, a quiet voice interrupted him from the hallway.
"do you think it’s gonna bother selina seeing bruce with someone else?" damian’s voice was low but sharp, his curiosity peeking around the corner of the library door.
he was followed by his brother, dick, who smirked. "i mean, we all know she’s been a little—" he hesitated, glancing at damian. "possessive?"
damian gave him a pointed look.
"i was going to say 'protective,' but sure, go ahead." tim remarks.
bruce’s eyes narrowed at the sound of his children’s voices. his instincts were immediate, but his gaze softened when he caught your amused expression.
just as he was about to call them out, cassandra stepped into the hallway. she had only overheard the conversation but hadn’t understood the full context, since she wasn’t there for the building of the plan.
she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.
"selina's getting married," she said bluntly, looking between the brothers. "and you’re all acting like idiots. it’s not like she hasn’t moved on. she’s been with someone else for a while now."
damian and jason blinked in unison, looking a little stunned with how long selina has been with her partner, considering she had ever so recently left their dad. "wait, what?" jason asked, his confusion growing. "she—"
"she moved on, guys," cassandra said, shaking her head.
"she’s already marrying someone else. you know how she is. if she sees bruce with someone else, she’s probably gonna think it's funny more than anything."
dick spoke. "you dont know that."
tim frowned. "you really think so?"
"yeah, because she knows what she wants. and she’s not holding onto stuff she can’t control," cassandra replied coolly.
"i want the best for bruce too, but you can’t just sit here and overthink it."
jason scowled. "that’s because bruce is—"
"just go talk to him yourselves," cassandra cuts in, dismissing them. "stop standing around like it’s a tragedy and act like adults."
her bluntness caused the brothers to retreat, but their expressions remained conflicted. as they all walked away, you and bruce shared a quiet, knowing glance.
bruce sighed. "i never thought i’d have to explain myself to them this way."
you smirked, your tone light and sweet as your dimples showed. "you’ve been a little distracted lately. it’s okay."
"maybe," bruce said, staring at your dimples and remembering the first time he had ever seen them.
"but things don’t seem simple anymore."
"maybe they never were," you replied.
“or maybe simple is too simple for us.”
fin.
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next chapter…
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susiekern · 1 day ago
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7. the one with a challenge
a/n: I've been fighting with tumblr for TWO DAMN DAYS to post it, so I really hope you enjoy
warnings: swearing, suggestive ig
word count: 1.227
lyrics from: The Apparition & Jaws - Sleep Token
masterlist
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“No way.”
“Way.”
The face that Megumi makes rips a laugh from you. It was your classic evening meeting, but since the weather was tragic for the past few days, you’ve ditched the rooftop, settling in your room instead. Lying on your bed with a couple of snacks and a respectful distance between you, you’ve spent the last hour catching up. With how busy Megumi was in the past few weeks, your talks were usually short, and there were fewer of them. Somehow you only now told him about the DM from Zenin, but the amount of strength it took not to scream about it as soon as he stepped into your apartment? You deserve a medal.
“Maybe it’s some sort of ‘be kind to your lamest fan’ charity event. You know, like make a wish.” He says, and you flip him off.
“Maybe I’m just cool as fuck and someone finally appreciates that?” You counter.
“Nah, I’d bet on the charity.” Fushiguro laughs a little when you groan and shove a pillow towards him. For a moment you close your eyes and enjoy the peaceful atmosphere, something you lacked in the past days. Working on a new collaboration, streaming, and maintaining your life at the same time was a bit tiring and mostly overwhelming. That’s why you appreciate the calm evening more than usual. You and Megumi talking about the events of this week, the room illuminated just by the fairy lights, music playing in the background from your PC… it’s nice and relaxing. Very much needed for probably both of you. Mr. Guitarist was close to being done with recording the songs for his job, so he stopped spending almost every waking hour of the day in the studio. You can clearly see that he’s tired, but when you commented on it, he shrugged and said it was more important for him to create something he’d be proud of than sleep for healthy 8 hours.
“What’s with the aggression?” Sudden question silences the thoughts in your head, but you keep your eyes closed still.
“What do you mean, aggression?”
“That’s the fourth time you hit me with a pillow. I got two kicks to my shins and a mean fist in the arm.” He counts all of your attacks, and you peer at him.
“I’ll never believe that this fist hurt you in the slightest. For someone who barely eats and locks himself in the studio, your biceps are crazy. But okay, I suppose I’m a bit more aggressive than usual.” Megumi looks shocked, although you’re not sure if that’s because of your aggression or how easily you’ve admitted it. “It’s been a busy week, and I have a bit too much energy. And I haven’t gotten my normal dose of annoying you and Yuji.”
“Damn, first of all, I still train even when I’m working, thank you very much. And second... I don’t even know how to comment on that. You should just punch Yuji, not someone who spends time with you, and bring snacks.” With that statement, he lies back, with his arms behind his head. It’s not weird that you looked at his flexed muscles and a sliver of abs revealed by his shirt rolling up, right? God, this man is fine. Does he have to be so fine?
“Yuji just whines when I do that, though. You flex. Easy choice.” You sigh and close your eyes again, pretending like it was just a normal thing. Yes, you both sometimes threw a flirty comment here and there, never directly referring to your night together, but it was a little different.
When you were on the rooftop, it gave you the freedom of saying shit in an open space. Here, in your room, you are almost painfully aware of how close he is lying. You can feel the heat from his body and smell his perfume. And you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t doing things to you. But Megumi is no better. You’ve noticed how he eyed you up after coming, taking in your shorts, simple t-shirt, and messy hair. Or how his eyes lingered on your face for a little longer than they should.
“So, you like what you see, huh?” He turns on his side, leaning his head on one hand, his elbow keeping him up. If your eyes were open, you would see how his own trace your body, ending their path on your lips. He just needs to lean forward a little… “That makes sense, I’m the hot neighbor after all.”
“Huh?” That brings you to open your eyes and look at him with shock. Only now do you realize that the snack barrier between you two did close to nothing, given how close his face is to yours. And you do not miss how his gaze moves from your lips, but after another second or two. It’s a dangerous game, but neither of you seemed to care.
“I’ve seen your stream. Well, a part of it. How did you put it? ‘I can’t say he’s bad-looking." You’re blushing at this point. You had no idea he watched any of it, especially since he saw how you answered a question about him.
“Don’t let it get to your head. I was just entertaining the chat.” He smirks, knowing very well that’s a lie, and leans a little closer. Your heart seems to be beating to the rhythm of the Fallen song that’s playing in the background, your eyes peeking at his lips on their own.
‘And I'm not here to be
The saviour you long for’
“Sure.” His voice goes down to a whisper. The seconds go by, and you seem to be frozen, both calculating how bad it would be to take the next step.
“Megumi…” You’re whispering too, hypnotized by how intense his gaze is. You want to tell him you shouldn’t. You really do. But the amount of time you’ve spent thinking about him, about his kisses and touch, keeps you from doing it. Would it really be that bad? Doing this one more time?
“Tell me you don’t want it.” There’s a hint of a challenge in how he says it. And since when are you one to hide from a challenge?
You’re the one to kiss him first this time. His reaction is immediate; the hand that was lying on the mattress cups your cheek as Megumi tastes your lips, and you need to hold back a moan. How much you’ve missed that feeling. His touch is gentle, yet reassuring, when he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. He moves to hover over your body, holding his weight on one arm.
‘Show me those pretty white jaws
Show me where the delicate stops’
“Fuck. I’ve wanted to do that ever since you stepped on that damn roof.” Whispering, he lowers his lips down to your jaw and neck, and your hands now move to his sides and back.
“You should’ve.” You whisper back. You don’t need to see his face to know he has that irritating smirk on, you can feel it on your skin. His hands make their way under your shirt, and he pulls himself from kissing your neck to look in your eyes. “Just one more time?”
“One more time.”
‘Show me what wounds you've got
Show me love’
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tag list (lmk if you wanna be added!): @nytylie @fresa-luna @syrooo @zaranobiyuyu @jvpit3rr @pandabiene5115
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enlynstory · 2 days ago
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⟢ No One Noticed
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Shipping: non-idol Yang Jungwon x reader
Synopsis: Yang Jungwon, a hopeful and kind young man, unexpectedly becomes the love interest of a girl who’s been struggling with rejecting people.
Warnings: self isolation, fear, betrayal, ex friendships. lmk if there are any more please and thank you :)
Wc: 605
It wasn’t unlike her to shut people out; in fact, it was something she did effortlessly. She wasn’t a people person. The mere idea of showing even a hint of care for someone especially when she felt no tendency to irritated her to her core.
She lived by a motto: "Better alone than surrounded by false connections." It was a belief forged from a painful past, one that had shaped her reluctance to let anyone in.
That was until she met him.
She met someone who shared kindness and cooperation, someone who didn’t care if she tried to push him away, someone who was willing to fight for her. She met Yang Jungwon.
The two had met in a college class. They were paired together for a three-week business project, and it wasn’t like she could turn him down—it was the final project, so she had no choice but to work with him.
He had noticed her before, in class. He always thought she was pretty and seemed kind, but he never had the chance to talk to her.
When the partners were announced by the professor, he waited, hoping her name would be called.
“Yang Jungwon and… Y/N.”
It was a relief to him when it was her, but what he hadn’t expected was that she barely spoke and seemed reserved when he approached her for the first time.
He noticed how she didn’t even look at him. She was silently staring down at the notebook on her desk.
“Y/N, right?”
At the time, he frowned, finding himself thinking about that encounter more than once. It didn’t take long for him to realize she didn’t like people.
One afternoon, the two of them sat in a coffee shop when a family with two loud kids walked in.
“I hate people,” she said.
He laughed at how bluntly she said it, and for once, he saw her smile.
He began to notice how she looked whenever someone tried to talk to her after class—how she seemed to disregard their presence. He saw the fear in her eyes when someone even walked by.
“I don’t like to intrude on people’s lives, but… why are you so afraid of getting to know someone?”
She was taken aback by his question. It was just another project session, the usual Mondays they spent together.
“My past,” she said.
It wasn’t like him to pry, but this time he did. She hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
“My best friend betrayed me after she grew tired of supporting me. She shared my personal struggles with others for attention.” She sighed loudly. “It hurt more than any other pain I had felt before, so I decided to shut everyone out.”
If he had noticed that last project session would be their final one, he would have seen the sadness in her eyes.
She had grown accustomed to him, and it made her feel strange. The simple thought of being around him seemed to lift a weight off her shoulders. But in the end, she knew she had to let him go for her own sake.
The day after they submitted their project, she saw him walk into class. She immediately looked away, knowing their time together was over.
Of course, Jungwon noticed. He always did.
He saw how she immediately looked down at her notebook when he walked up to her.
“You’re not trying to get rid of me now, are you?” he asked with a grin.
It was just like Yang Jungwon to notice, because unlike everyone else, he didn’t want to be the one she pushed away.
[AN]
This is my first story, yayyyy!!!! I’m not sure…how but this was a quick thirty minute write, so if you find any errors please feel free to correct them!! All the help is greatly appreciated!!🫶🏼🫶🏼
Thank you for reading💖
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sh4wty18 · 2 days ago
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sextape.
pairing: pornstar!jake x bsf!reader
summary: jake always sends you his OF content before he posts it. but one day after he sends you a solo video with an unexpected ending, you decide maybe it’s time you two film together.
cw: 18+ MDNI, NSFW, pornstar!au, sex, masturbation, online sex work, language, best friends with benefits to lovers, use of y/n
word count: 3.9k + proofread
a/n: another fic i’ve had in my notes app for a month lol🤗
TW: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME ONLINE. THIS STORY IS 100% FICTIONAL AND FOR FUN ONLY. NOTHING HERE IS ACCURATE TO REAL LIFE, NOR AM I CLAIMING IT TO BE. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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you’re currently working on your grad school work, grading quizzes for the students you TA for at UCLA. getting a phd was a full time job, no one ever warned you. but it would be worth it. as you sit at the desk in your bedroom, contemplating how much partial credit to award a student for a mediocre response to a short answer question, your phone buzzes.
you look down and see jake’s name light up your screen. you lean back in your chair, phone in hand, and read his text.
heyyy you wanna see my vid for tm? tried somethin new i think it’s pretty good
you smile at the screen before quickly typing out a reply and pressing send.
yeah
u don’t know how bored i am rn
you put your phone back down and continue grading. jake was one of your closest friends. you’d been friends for years since undergrad when you both went to ucla together. after graduation you moved onto ucla’s graduate program and he decided he was done with academia. he had always been a very creative person. he was also very sexual. he loved sex. he was good at it. he knew what to do to make people squirm. he was sexy, and he knew it. he decided, why not try to make a career out of it? so a couple years ago, he’d made an onlyfans account. his innovation & entrepreneurship degree came in handy, because he knew exactly how to promote himself online to gain a following quickly. fast forward two years, and now he’s in the top 0.5% of creators on the site, easily making seven figures a year, sometimes even seven figures a month. you were a little jealous sometimes, of how much money he made with seemingly little effort, but then you thought about all the work he’d actually put into his career.
he posted on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays. mondays were photos. he’d often have extremely strenuous and exhausting photoshoots for multiple days in the beginning of the month. they were never the same and they were always creative. he thought of each idea. money went into hiring the photographers, make up artists, catering, rented out space. but he made enough money to pay for it all. money wasn’t the issue, it was time. on wednesdays he uploaded a solo video. on fridays, he uploaded a video filmed with one or two or however many other people. his videos were always to the point. he liked it quick and dirty. no emotions, no strings, and NEVER any kissing. his fans liked it that way. he knew they didn’t care for theatrics. they were there to get off, and so was he…although, he always made sure the people he filmed with came first.
he edited all his own content too. he also had the responsibility of planning collaborations with other artists, for the friday videos. they couldn’t both upload the same content, so that often meant going multiple rounds in a row. plus he might have multiple collabs to film each week, so he could edit the videos and schedule days to post them. point being, jake was a very hard worker. he deserved every ounce of fame he’d gotten.
he would often send his videos to you for your approval. since you’d had a sexual relationship for quite some time, and were super close friends, he trusted you to tell him the truth about whether the videos were good or not. you always did. for around the past year, your relationship had escalated from solely friendship to friends with benefits. he got tested once a week for his work, so you weren’t worried about getting any stds from him or anything. plus he was always super safe. sex with jake was amazing. he was a amazing. having the “benefits” label attached to your title… it was fun. it was sweet. it wasn’t serious. at least that was what you thought he wanted, and you were too afraid to ever bring it up. you were happy to be his friend. you loved being his friend. you also loved having sex with him. you didn’t want to ruin that.
it was tuesday night, he’d probably just finished editing his wednesday video. you couldn’t help but feel giddy with excitement. watching him fuck himself was always fun for you.
you heard your phone buzz again and picked it up.
well hopefully this doesn’t bore you more lol :)
*FILE ATTACHMENT 3.5MB*
you click on the attachment and see that the video was eight minutes long. normally his wednesday videos averaged around three minutes. quick and dirty, remember? when you press play, you are immediately met with the image of a nearly naked jake waving to the camera and blowing a kiss (his signature salutation). you look down and can see where his boxers obviously tent, and when he plops himself down into the swiveling office chair with a smile, his erection is even more glaringly obvious.
one time, after one of your late night escapades, while you were cuddling in your bed in the early hours of the morning, you’d asked him how he was always hard before his solo videos even started. he had giggled and kissed your temple softly, before mumbling “a magician never tells his secrets.”
“oh come on,” you begged. “pleeease. i’m your best friend. and we are having sex so you kind of owe it to me if i’m going to find out you have some type of magical penis.”
he laughed again, “i just think about you.”
he kissed you on the cheek. “jaaake… be serious,” you say with faux annoyance.
“what makes you think i’m not being serious?” he asked before pulling your naked body ever closer to his. you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, but before you could push him any further, he’d fallen asleep.
you returned your attention back to the video, where the tiny jake in your screen was peeling his boxers off and tossing them to the side of the room. you watch as his dick sprang free. he tore his gaze away from his cock and glanced up to smile at the camera again. he had such a way with the camera. his eye contact made the viewer feel involved somehow. it was almost intimate. maybe that was why he was so popular. people felt seen by him. he squeezed a bit of unscented lotion on his hand and lazily grasped the shaft of his cock, drawing slow strokes back and forth, never breaking eye contact with the camera. yeah, this was definitely intimate. his breath caught every once in a while and he’d whisper “fuck” or “shit”, almost quiet enough that you couldn’t hear him.
after a couple minutes, you could tell he was about to come. well you could tell. you specifically. it was a face you’d grown so accustomed to seeing from him. his eyebrows furrowed a bit and his top lip curled up and to the right. sometimes he squeezed his eyes shut in his videos, but never with you. when you two fucked, he was always present. he wanted to savor every second. he wanted to see your eyes roll back as he made you finish for the second or third time in the night.
he squirmed in the chair and it rotated a little as his strokes got more aggressive. but right before he came he let go. he caught his breath. he laughed. he looked at the camera with a stare that could only be described as him saying “gotcha”. he repeated this process a few more times. working himself up. fucking himself to the brink of collapse but letting go just before he could teeter over the edge. you kept note of how his eyes hadn’t scrunched up once yet this video. as if he was trying as hard as possible to remain present with his audience.
around the seven minute mark, you knew he was finally going to allow himself to come. he was squirming, his leg was shaking, you could see the muscles in his abs contracting with every shallow breath he took. he whimpered softly, mumbling incoherently under his breath. but then he did something truly unexpected.
“fuck, y/n,” he let out with a moan. his own eyes widened at his words but at that point it was too late. the damage was already done. he felt so good and he was so close to coming that he couldn’t help but continue saying your name. he continued mumbling your name between soft sighs and moans until he finally pushed himself over the edge and come shot out of his dick and into his hand. he let go of his now flaccid but sensitive penis, and sat back in his chair with a breathless laugh.
“fuck,” he said. he stood up and walked closer to the camera, allowing the audience to get an up close look at the mess he’d made of himself. he smiled brightly one last time, blowing another kiss before the video cut out.
you sat in silence and disbelief at what you’d just seen. he was literally moaning your name while he jerked off, and was about to post it for a million subscribers to see. you couldn’t tell if you thought it was hot or if it made you nervous. you looked down at your texts and saw that he’d sent another message.
well?
it didn’t take long for you to think of your reply.
come over
he answered almost as soon as your text was delivered.
already on my way baby
-
you knew he arrived at your place when you heard three quick knocks at your front door, the same knock he did every time he came over.
“hey,” you greet him with a shy smile as you open the door. suddenly, seeing him in person after watching his video had made you feel less confident, and more embarrassed.
“hi,” he said, looking down at his feet. clearly his drive over had given him time to contemplate his actions and maybe garner a bit of embarrassment himself. he stepped over the threshold without asking. not that you wanted him to. you closed the door behind him and stood with your hand pressed against it for a second, facing away from him.
“look,” he started. “i don’t know why i did it. i know it’s… different… than my other stuff, and if you don’t want me to post it i won’t, but i wanted you to see how you make me feel.” you feel his presence behind you and your suspicion is validated as his fingers glide over your hip until his palm is flat against your skin. “say something, please.”
you turn around and grab his neck with both hands, pulling him down to sloppily kiss him. you thought about his words, how you make me feel, and you thought about him. you pull away for a second and stare into his eyes desperately. he meets your gaze with equal fervor, scanning all across your face for some sort of indication to keep going. and you can tell then. that he wants you just as much as you’d always wanted him. in a way that’s more than just best friends. more than just benefits. “i want to film with you,” you say, all your confidence restored.
his eyes widen, “really?”
“yes.”
you feel his grip tighten on your waist, his other hand snaking up your neck and around the back of your head. “i was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled.
you lead him to your bedroom, hand in hand. it had to be the hundredth time you’d led him there. but it never got old. you could do it forever. you would do it forever, if he’d have you.
“so how does this work?” you ask with giddy excitement upon locking your bedroom door behind you.
“we don’t have any of my film stuff, so we’ll just have to record on my phone. it’ll be fun. it’ll look homemade… amateur. people eat that shit up. plus, i think if you’re in it, people will love it even more. i know they’re gonna love the wednesday video… just hearing your name.”
you smile, taking a step towards him and reaching out to pull him in by his waistband. “so you’ll just… be recording us on your phone the whole time?” you ask.
he gulps, his dick growing harder by the second, just from thinking about having you on camera. he couldn’t stop imagining what the video would look like, and how he could jerk off to it whenever he wanted. he wouldn’t have to imagine you anymore. “yeah, pretty much.” he inches closer to you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and leaning in until his lips brush against your mouth. “gonna be so sexy for me, baby.”
“shit,” you whisper, your knees growing weak. “i want you.”
he sets up his phone, leaning it against a jewelry box on your dresser, and you wonder how he could possibly get all of it in frame.
“you good?” he asks as he makes his way back over to you.
“yeah,” you say, eyes still on the camera. “just a little nervous i guess.”
“you’re gonna do so good. just pretend it’s not even there. focus on me.”
“okay,” you smile, and lean in to connect your lips. he drags his hand down your back until he’s pulling on the fabric of your t-shirt, silently begging you to allow him to pull it off. you break away from each other, just for a second, to strip until you’re both naked. why not get down to business, right?
“getting right to it?” he asks with a smirk, before plunging back to your mouth, kissing you hard and fast. one of his hands grips your cheek while the other kneads your ass. your arms wrap around his neck and your bodies are so close together you can feel his cock pressing against your pelvis. you part your lips slightly, allowing is tongue to enter and explore the inside of your mouth. he guides you both over to your bed, never breaking the kiss, until he finally picks you up completely. you wrap your legs around his torso and he holds you close, flopping down on the bed with you mounting his lap. “turn around so they can see you, baby,” he breaks away and whispers in your ear. you do as you’re told, he spreads his legs so you can sit between them, facing the camera now.
“spread your legs for me, princess.” you rest one leg on both of his thighs, so you’re completely revealed. you can see yourself in his little phone screen on your vanity, and even bigger in the mirror behind it. he wraps one arm around your stomach, holding you in place, and rests his head on your shoulder, kissing you as he does. his free hand creeps around your waist and lands between your legs. “so wet for me.” he whispers as his fingers mindlessly brush over you. he finds your clit, as he’s done countless times before, and rubs gentle circles into it with his index and middle fingers.
he loved to start slow with you. building you up for so long just so he could eventually ruin you. you lean your head back into the crook of his neck and turn to meet his gaze, “please don’t tease, jake.”
he kisses your lips again, so softly, you almost think he’s going to go easy on you. “i’m not teasin’, promise,” he replies. “just gotta show them how pretty you are while you’re like this.”
he gets rougher then, his fingers moving quicker and harder, and you let out a moan. “louder, baby.” he says as he delivers a brisk slap to your inner thigh, pulling another moan from you, before he eventually shoves two fingers deep inside you. he curls his fingers upwards as he thrusts them into you, finding your g-spot over and over again.
you’re practically a breathless, shaking mess in his arms, but he just keeps alternating between fingering you and rubbing your clit. he brings you to the edge more times than you can count, alternating methods just before you can reach your peak. he almost knows your body better than you at this point. knows exactly when to stop before you can come, knows exactly what makes you feel the best. “you’re doing so good for me, princess.” he praises as you continue to play his game. allowing him to make a mess of you in his arms, he’s the only one you’d ever want to be this vulnerable with. you absolutely love when he ruins you. you love how it feels during the moment, and you love how it feels after, with him cradling you in his arms until you fall asleep. kissing your forehead and cheeks relentlessly while he tells you how amazing you are. how you’re the only person he genuinely enjoys fucking. how he could do it all the time and never get bored.
he kisses your temple as he finally allows you to come undone in his arms. you grip his arm that’s wrapped around your stomach, and your other hand reaches behind you to grab the back of his head and pull him in. your lips latch onto his, even though you’re barely capable of kissing him as he works you through your orgasm. you gaze up to make eye contact with him, and he smiles down at you while your body finally stops convulsing and your loud moans dwindle into soft, breathless pants. you manage to return his smile then, and he leans down to press an ever so gentle kiss to your lips. “you think you can take more?” he asks softly.
“with you? always,” you reply.
“that’s my girl,” he grins. “move to the edge of the bed, baby.”
he stands up and grabs a tissue from your vanity to wipe off his fingers before grabbing his phone from the dresser. he flips the camera view so it’s on you, and he turns the flash on.
he walks up to you, camera in hand, and you can’t help but giggle as he does. you’ve never seen him in action before. well, not live. you wonder if this is how filming usually goes for him. you imagine not. since he has more professional recording equipment at home, and he’s with strangers. you have to admit, no matter how good his content is, he never has any type of chemistry with the people he fucks beyond sexually. it was different with you, it was bound to be. your relationship is bigger than just sex. it was more… for both of you.
“you laughin’ at me?” jake asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you.
you bat your eyelashes at him innocently, “never!”
he lets out a chuckle before finally reaching you on the bed. he stands at the edge where you sit up on your elbows to look at him. the flash in your face makes it hard to even see jake. you look past the light up at him, he’s all you care about. you know you must be giving him the biggest doe eyes ever, but you don’t care how you look. you want him bad.
“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says, reaching down to jerk himself off with his free hand. “could come just by lookin’ at you.”
he continues stroking himself, whining a little as he does. “see what she does to me?” he asks his hypothetical audience. “lean back, mama. hold your thighs back for me.” again, you do as you’re told. being with him was the only time you were okay with a man telling you what to do. you grab one thigh in each hand and pull your legs back until they’re pressed against your torso.
he guides his cock between your legs, slowly pushing it inside of you inch by inch. you were always taken aback by his size. as if your body forgets how big he is between your hookups, you always needed a minute to adjust. “takin’ me so well, princess.” you knew the camera was capturing the entire scene. and for some reason, that was turning you on even more.
once he was finally in deep enough, he let go of his dick and used his now free hand to grab onto your thigh, pushing it down even further. you felt him bottom out, his pelvis pressing against your skin, and he groaned in delight at the feeling. “missed you so much, baby. missed this perfect body, and your pretty moans,” he says.
“you came over three nights ago,” you muster between moans as he begins thrusting into you.
“yeah, but i always miss you when you’re not with me. miss all of you. not just fucking you.” he couldn’t say much else, as he was now groaning himself, but you understood well enough what he meant. he missed you. everything about you.
his thrusts grew faster and harder with each passing second, and you reached out to grab his arm that was still pushing your thigh back. you gripped his wrist, your nails digging into him as your moans got louder. “fuck! jake… fuck, fuck.”
“what is it, baby? use your words,” jake said through his grunts.
“‘m…so close,” you reply, and another moan rips through you.
“me too,” he says. “come with me.”
your back arches off the bed and you can almost see stars as he slams into you, but you let go at precisely the same time. his thrusts grow sloppier, and he can barely hold his grip on the phone as his body begins to shake. yours does too, and you grip the sheets with the hand that isn’t actively holding onto jake’s wrist for dear life. you’re both in a state of pure ecstasy as you feel his dick finally twitch inside you.
he stops the video and throws his phone on the bed, hunching over on top of you to catch his breath. he slowly pulls out and collapses onto the bed, pulling your body onto his and kissing your face gently. he fixes your sweaty hair as best as he can, smiling as he does. “you’re so pretty.”
“so are you,” you whisper, your fingers softly tracing his face. “so are you gonna post the video this week? i think it was good, hopefully it’ll do well.”
“oh, i don’t think i’m going to post it.” jake says.
“what? why not? do you think it’s bad?” you ask, and genuine concern lines your voice.
“no. that’s the problem. it’s so good. i don’t wanna share it. don’t wanna share you. only i want to be able to see you like that.” he kisses you roughly and nuzzles his head into your chest.
you smile at his words. don’t wanna share you, and suddenly, you’re saying the one thing you never thought you’d be able to say to him. “jake, i think i’m in love with you.”
he seems caught off guard at first. but then he looks at you with eyes full of only love and passion, and the most earnest smile you’d ever seen adorns his face. “thank god.”
he kisses you, only this time it feels different. it’s as if a taut rope that had held you two a foot away from each other had finally snapped. or been cut. he holds your face in his hands like you’re a precious porcelain doll he wouldn’t dare risk breaking, and when he pulls away from the kiss, it’s only to say “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to hear that.”
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pics from pinterest, divider from @/saradika-graphics
tags for @liseytopia & @audr3yyyyy again <33 ily guys
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junedenim · 1 day ago
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2012
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beneath the boardwalk, part 10 (series masterlist)
why'd you only call me when you're high?
warnings: a whole lot of angst, temptation, nostalgia, and nothing
word count: 10.4k
Squished between two couch cushions watching Real Housewives, I got a call from Alex. "Did I wake you?" He questioned. It was late or early depending on who you asked. I had been woken up from a cold I was suffering from. He had never gone to bed.
"No, no, I'm just sitting around, suffocating," I complained. His voice was rough, but not thick with phlegm like mine. He chuckled in a rhythmic format, beat after beat. He sounded like he was sinking into himself, his flesh turning to goo. I heard his lips smack together as if he was chewing on a piece of hay. I coughed, the harshness reaching him miles and miles away. "You alright?"
"Yeah." I think he was chewing gum. "Just got home."
I hummed with understanding. "Did you have a nice night?"
He made a noise of indifference. "How long you been sick?"
"Two days now and it's not getting any better." I sniffled and stuffed a tissue up my nostril, thankful that I lived alone. "Think I caught it at a New Year's Party. I'm worried I have mono."
"Why? You've been kissing a bunch of people?" His words hung in the middle of us. Both of us moving on from one another had been unspoken. We were still on a break for all intents and purposes, even if he was with Arielle. Another thing we never talked about. 
I gave the best laugh I could do without coughing. "It's supposed to be good luck. I also ate 12 grapes and banged bread against the wall."
"Did you really?" He amusingly asked.
"No, well, not the bread part." I sighed. "Now, I'm just sitting on the couch watching shitty reruns. I can't fall back asleep."
"Neither can I," he said.
I hesitated and curled up under my blanket. "Is that why you called me at 4 in the morning?" I said it with a laugh to ease any tensions that may arise.
"It's only 1 here."
"Right. I forgot about the time difference." It didn't seem right for him to be so far away permanently. None of this seemed like the correct order of things. It was a misalignment but there could be no corrective measure.
"Yeah, I kind of did too." There was a pause like he was thinking things over. Like he might have had something to say but now he couldn't find it. "I'll let you go then." In more ways than one.
*
Alex was a cloud. He was away on tour, far away and out of reach. We talked less but not intentionally. We both just got really busy and we didn't need each other for that constant contact anymore. I was plummeting toward the wildest time of my life and he was up to his usual unable-to-contact schedule. Somewhere in Australia first then opening for The Black Keys. Plus, he had Arielle.
The new girlfriend thing didn't bug me much, at least, not in the form of jealousy. It was a strange thing. I hadn't fully adjusted to the idea but it was much easier when he was nowhere near my life. If it had happened when we were younger, I think I would've punished myself for it, but I had grown into a far lighter figure who understood not everyone was trying to make a mark against me. Alex was living his own life, which for the past few years had been dedicated to one person. It was "seeing what else was out there."
I was alone for the most part. I saw Jackson nearly every day, whether for work or leisure, but I was getting used to being alone for long grasps of time. I spent time writing in my notebook like the old days. A therapy session that I locked away in a drawer. I rotted in my room for days. I watched all of The Sopranos, practiced the splits, and thought about getting a cat. It was winter and a very boring time.
But around the end of January, I did my first interview. It was small and nothing huge, but it was talking about my work in-depth for the first time with a stranger. I pretended I was talking to Alex.
Alex and I didn't stop talking completely. I called him on his birthday, briefly, and we had a long chat toward the end of January where we caught up with one another. Neither of us had much to tell. He had been touring. I had been crawling around New York doing next to nothing, besides book matters and talking about my "marketability."
Alex laughed at this. "Yeah, they tend to do that. Try to whittle you down to one trait."
"It's making me feel insecure." I laughed at it but it felt small inside me, burning its way out.
Alex hummed in agreement. "Well, at least you're not a pimple-ridden kid doing it."
It wasn't something he talked about much. He hated people giving him attention, yet he was in a career that commanded eyes to be focused on him. It was one of our many skimmed-over conversations. In some ways, it made me feel like I didn't know Alex. We both hid parts of ourselves from one another and knew that the other did this. That burning curiosity we used to have probably went out once we started to live with one another. You know someone for long enough that it begins to feel like you know every inch of them. I slept with him night after night but I wondered if I ever knew what was ticking on in his head before he fell asleep. What was he thinking when he sat outside with a closed notebook? Why did he turn away?
I didn't even know why I turned away. I wrote repeatedly in my notebook, questioning why I couldn't make it work with Alex. I resisted jumping into a relationship because of that. If I couldn't make it work with Alex then it probably wouldn't work with anyone, especially during that portion of my life. I didn't know what it meant to be alone, like really alone.
I deflected a lot. I even deflected earlier in this book. I was devastated by the loss of Alex and I don't think it hit me until much later because I always had an anvil weighing on the back of my head telling me it wasn't over. Arielle complicated those ideals and I think for a while I was on my back unable to regain upright status. I was flailing.
That's why I paused. When 2012 hit, I was forced into a corner. I felt distant from who I was but still so far away from who I was becoming. I felt like I was the roots of the tree that had been cut down. I was left to be a stump.
One night, over a joint, I told Jackson I didn't feel British. Jackson, a Californian boy through and through, did not understand this. He laughed from the high while the smoke just made me more disoriented. He told me that I was "perfectly British." To me, that sounded like some marketing strategy. That's what the book would be marketed as—a British girl coming to America; her cold skin meeting the California sun. It made me hate the book. Or I hated myself, the lines were blurring.
I thought I had grown away from forms of jealousy. I have just previously insisted to you that I experienced no feelings of envy toward Arielle...but I did. It was ignored and then it couldn't be. The "R U Mine?" music video featured Arielle and a "new" Alex. I'm not a fan of the insinuation Alex suddenly changed after we broke up, besides his hair and fresh Sheffield tattoo, I would come to know Alex was exactly the same. Alex never quite changes. He's always been suave. It's hard to take a 20-year-old as seriously as a 25-year-old, especially when he is still pimple-ridden.
I found my jealousy toward Arielle in regard to "R U Mine?" was the same as when Alex showed me "Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts" because, honestly, since then Alex's only explicit romantic muse (the word makes me want to barf, but that's what I was) was me. It's the weird thing of being with a writer, especially with personal subjects. It's beautiful when it's for you but then you realize that it was never really for you. It was about you. Alex didn't write a song to make me feel loved. He wrote a song because he liked writing songs.
Unknowingly, I always felt that. It's why I didn't swoon every time I heard "Mardy Bum." I loved it as a song but it didn't feel like a love letter. I felt Alex's love in far different ways. As the years went on, I would find love letters in songs, but at the center, I found his love in crevices: a note from college, a smoke outside a pub, a cooked meal, folded laundry—god, I sound old.
But his love wasn't restricted to those songs. Just as my love isn't restricted to this tome. This is a love letter in pieces for Alex but it's also for my youth. I found around this time, I began to reflect on those early years. Nearly 10 years out from 2003, I became a preservationist. I jotted down my memory of my first conversation with Alex. I tucked it away in my drawer, no use for it yet.
*
Alex called me on my birthday. He wasn't too far away, somewhere between Portland and Boston on a bus. It was late with only an hour left to my birthday, which I had spent drinking with friends. It was a rather simple birthday. It could've been just another night, minus the cake (red velvet with frosted flowers on top of it) that Fennel and Kaka purchased for me.
Alex texted me in the morning. Something akin to Hey. Happy birthday. Al.
It was formal and if it didn't make me laugh so much I think I'd be hurt by it. But Alex always texted like that as if he was penning a letter. The letter was awfully short but it was sent at 4 AM, which made me believe he either had no sleep or had just woken up.
I was expecting more and I got more. When I was drunk.
"Hi," I said, shoving the phone to my ear as a subway train came roaring by.
He chuckled, hearing the noise. "Hi." He waited for it to pass fully before continuing, "Happy birthday."
"Thank you."
"Did you spend it good?"
"Yeah. I'm pretty drunk."
"Alright, then, I won't keep you long."
"No," I insisted. "Stay on the phone with me." I was pleading. I didn't want to let go of him. "At least, until I'm home." I wasn't far away but I lied and acted like I was further away, keeping him on the line with me, even as we lost connection at various times.
"Sorry I didn't get you anything," he said halfway through the subway ride.
"I didn't get you anything,” I reminded him.
"Yeah. Feels weird."
We hummed in silence because we both knew how abnormal this was. We weren't friends. Alex and I were never friends. Nothing ever went away or could ever go away. We were struggling to redefine what we were. We could never disentangle from one another. It pulled us back toward one another, even when we shouldn't have.
"I was going to get you that, uh, milkshake maker so you wouldn't have to pay extra at Morgenstern's for one." I didn't know a person could get so emotional over a milkshake maker that they would feel like crying on the F train. I might be the only person ever.
It was such a stupid gift. I would probably get two uses out of the machine before it broke and it wouldn't be as good as Morgenstern's makes theirs and it would go to waste. Still, I can imagine if he did get it for me. How after I unwrapped it we would go to Morgenstern's and get a pint of ice cream and Alex would make me a milkshake. One just for me. If I was feeling generous enough, we'd share the straw.
None of this would have happened, even if we were together. He'd still be in between Portland and Boston and I'd still be riding the F, wishing he was with me. It was comforting that maybe I had done the right thing, even if it felt so hard.
"Well, you can get it for me for Christmas."
He laughed and said, "Okay."
*
Black leather loafers with black wool flannel trousers. A white poplin shirt, two buttons loose at the top and at the bottom. I had a black corduroy jacket that Jackson held for me. I felt like I was dressing up in my mother's clothes. I was doing book press. It was an unfitting experience but I held the hardcover book in my hand. It felt unnatural but I liked my authour's photo.
By that point, I was so far removed from the contents of the book. I started to second-guess it even coming out. It felt like my diary, even if it was evasive at times and cut out the personal from that time (Alex is not mentioned once, not even as the person I moved to LA for). Still, it was exposing, but it was real now and it was sitting in my hand.
Alex came to town a week later, opening for The Black Keys. I didn't see the show—things were getting too busy by that point. I asked Alex if we could meet for a quick lunch and he accepted.
We met at Westville, a cute restaurant, but by no means romantic. I felt a need for that to be clear. I worried about Arielle worrying that I was trying to "steal" Alex or whatever that meant. I don't think she ever did. After all, she had the guy and I was resigned with no longer having the guy. It wasn't the bitch fight it has been imagined to be.
I waited for Alex outside the restaurant, smoking a cigarette to achieve my all-time high of cigarettes per day (this was not a good year for my lungs). I dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I wanted to look cool but relaxed. I wore the previously mentioned black loafers to make it look like I didn't roll out of bed and throw some jeans on.
Alex wore the same thing: jeans, T-shirt, loafers...and a leather jacket. It was a hotter March day when spring was beginning to peek through and relieve the bitterness of winter. He was across the street stuck at a streetlight and I waved to him and he waved back. Then, we just stared at each other, waiting for the light to turn green.
He crossed, said hi, and hugged me. Every move was made with slight awkwardness. We hadn't been alone together since he moved out. "Have you been waiting long?" He asked.
I shook my head. "Got here early, just for a smoke. Do you want to go in now?"
"Yeah. Yeah." He bobbed his head.
I put my cigarette out and he followed me into the restaurant. "Your hair is back to normal." My natural brown. It was better for me to not play pretend when promoting a book about my own life.
"Yours isn't," I commented. It came off snarkier than I wanted it to.
He shrugged and smiled to ease the thick fat of awkwardness. "Yeah, well, you know." He didn't say it but this was the new normal for him, which was fine, but it was different from what I knew. When I dreamed about him or pictured him, it was still with a curling mop top or, you know, just the mop if I was dreaming of '09.
"Tattoo too," I added.
"Yeah."
"You're a changed man."
"Yeah."
Our heads ducked down and we stared at the menus in silence. It was a challenge of who would speak first—seriously speak, not those little comments over what looks good.
After we ordered, I said, "Sorry I'm not able to go tonight."
He waved me off. "You've already been to too many shows. Don't worry."
"Well, I like going. It feels weird not to go."
"Yeah." Somewhere in that word, I knew what he meant. It had been years since Alex had the ability to spot people in the crowd, but he told me once that there was a comfort in knowing I was somewhere in there, that even if he messed up, there would always be someone there at the end of it all. I wonder if he was still getting used to someone else being at the end of it all.
He sipped his water to cut off the look on his face. I decided to cut to the fat of it. "I, uh, have something to give you."
"Why do I feel like it's something bad?" He cracked a laugh, lifting the air in the room.
I picked up my bag. "I hope not."
I dug through my things slowly. It was held in my hands but I still had to catch my breath before I lifted it out. I saw a squint on his face as he tried to imagine what it was. I passed it across the table and his hands took it. That is when it all started to feel real; seeing his eyes land on it, his hands run down its spine with him smiling. "It's a first edition," I joked.
He raised an eyebrow, flipping it open. "Is it signed?" I laughed. I'm not sure what made me happier: him holding my book or joking around with him again. He opened the other end of the book. "Good author photo."
"I'm quite happy with it." Somewhere in that bittersweetness, I did feel content. It was never how I imagined him holding my first book. Parts of me were swallowed with sorrow that I would never experience this in the way I wanted—a desperate romantic lovemaking all-consuming kind of way—but there were small parts in me that were happy that we could still have this. I don't know if we kept dragging things out this would have been as joyous. That this would have felt like closure.
Alex looked up, meeting my eyes. A small smile played on his lips. The kind that can't be faked in any way. It was real and from the hurt. It was that pride he always had in me. The pride that kept me going for far longer than I'd ever imagined. I wrote the book, but he made the book. I never would've written anything close to it without him. I'd probably be stuck fucking Robert in London if it wasn't for him. It was my reassurance to him that he didn't have to make up for the sudden move to LA as he constantly tried to do. He wasn't in the book, but he was the book. It's why I dedicated it to him. It's why on the last page of his edition of the book I wrote: Don't make fun of me, Al. Thank you for this. I hope you know why. Love, Jane C.
I questioned the "love" part. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable but it would have been far more awkward to write something like "sincerely." I wasn't one for lying, especially about my love for Alex. It was something layered. It didn't rest in that romantic love. He wasn't just my boyfriend and he wasn't just my best friend. It's hard for a writer to find the word. It's nudged somewhere in this book. In all these little words.
"I wanted you to be the first to have it," I said. "Well, one of the first. Wanted to see the look on your face."
He looked back down at the book. Mild disbelief spread across his face as he looked back and forth between the book and me. "Thanks." He wasn't sure what else to say. He rolled everything around and looked as if he was choking on the bone of a chicken.
"It's been a little weird these past few months," I said while picking at my fingernails, an assured sign to Alex that I was referring to us. "I don't want it to feel weird. So, don't cry or anything," I joked.
He chuckled, dislodging the lump. He flipped the book over one more time before placing it on the table. "I'll try not to. I knew you could do it." He stared right at me, emphasizing every little syllable. The awkwardness faded from him and he leaned onto the table. His smile was small but bright. I could find a million different meanings in it, each meaning just as much.
"I know you did. You always did," I told him. "I had this dream last night. It was weird and blurry but we were driving around Sheffield or some weird ghost thing was driving us. It's hard to describe. I don't know. I think it was a sign or something. I'm not sure of what but just those early days of us talking. That's when I really started to write. I suppose my mind was thinking about this lunch and conjured up some old memories."
He smiled at me the whole time, eyes never leaving me, even when I glanced away. "Well, I had a dream that I was one of the animals left off of Noah's Ark, so, you tell me what that means."
I told him it had something to do with his fear of being left behind and he rolled his eyes and said I was trying to be Freud. Lunch came and we ate and laughed and agreed to split the check. He told me he would read the whole book tonight if he could. We hugged goodbye and he whispered in my ear, "I'll send you a proper review."
A few days later, Alex emailed me. It was long. Very long and detailed like he had taken a note on every page. He pulled the sentences he liked the most out, which turned out to be about half the book. I would later write back and ask what that meant for the other half of the book. He said they were left off Noah's Ark too. Continuing his initial email, Alex wrote at the bottom:
You did it. I hope you feel that too. Thank you, Al.
*
I had a book tour. A minimal one since there wasn't the highest of expectations and I didn't want to go to Omaha, Nebraska. So, there was Boston, New York, Atlanta, Chicago, Houston, and Los Angeles. I hated the whole thing. I always wanted to go to these places but I wasn't really going to these places. We lingered in Chicago at the end of July, but it was the equivalent of touring with Alex, except this time I was Alex.
I've never enjoyed talking about my work either but it was nice that people thought it was nice. But that part still felt awkward to me too. Like, people actually read this??? It eased up as it went along. It was a short tour anyway. I wasn't going to Tokyo or anything.
I thought about myself a lot. It was a little lonely but I had adapted to that. Jackson was my only company on the road and it was easy for us to get sick of one another. We had both grown bored with one another, both slightly exhausted from these months so closely intertwined. I thought about Al, often. I thought about myself, often.
Could it be possible that I did everything right? No. I never thought that but I didn't think I did everything wrong. I had cracks in the surface of me and guts that spilled out. I said everything with my pen but nothing with my lips. I hid myself under the disguise of a freshly lonesome girl who knew the only means to move on was to forget. But I didn't forget anything, only myself, just for a little. Pieces of me dropped on the side of the highway. We drove for days and I found no meaning in it, only wondering did he feel like this all the time? How did he bear this loss of self?
I asked myself questions and never got any answers. I felt everything but there was never any meaning in it. There were closed-off vessels, no means to transport blood or oxygen, yet, I was still moving. I suppose that was the only thing left to cling to. I still had the memory of it and those never made me sad. I experienced it. How fortunate was I to be cracked open and exposed to this impenetrable love? I still felt it. We were both on the end of the same wire. It was bent and twisted, knots made to keep strong but disrupt transmission. No love lost. Just changed. I know good comes from change. I didn't feel the goodness but I could taste it coming. So much else was happening. I would hate myself forever for wasting those precious few days of enjoyment in place of a relationship that didn't need nourishment anymore. It was about me. I wanted it to be about me for so long and it finally was. Don't waste it.
The mini-tour ended in LA at the start of August. Summer had whipped me in the face so hard I forgot the season even existed, until I was stuck in the sweaty, SoCal heat, dying for a drop of water. The first night—the day before the Q&A and book signing—Jackson and I got dinner and drinks with Opal.
It was nice to let loose after feeling so pinned up for most of the summer. The liquor soothed my sunburnt skin and I decided the tour as a whole wasn't too bad—I was about 3 drinks in at this point. Then, after another drink, I texted Alex telling him I was in town. The last we chatted was a week or so before when the band opened for the London Olympics. I watched it later on YouTube and told him he did a bang-up job. He told me he nearly shat himself.
Alex had returned to LA since. The city had become his permanent home since the tour had ended. He bought a house out here and everyone in the band, for the most part, had relocated too. So, in my drunken state, I told him I was there and we should hang before I went back to New York.
When I woke up, it was an embarrassing text of I'm in LA, AL. Even in my drunken state, I wrote with proper grammar. Alex wrote back, Come on over. This was in the early hours of the day so he must have been up by some similar means too.
The following night, I panicked. I wondered if this is what single people felt like all the time. Prior to this, I had never faced intimidation when hanging out with Alex, except maybe when I was 17 and that type of thing could be labelled as teenage anxiety. But, no, this was a thing that would plague me the rest of my dating life and I wasn't even going on a date with him. Alex is the only "ex" I had stayed in contact with up to that point. Most of my friends didn't do this type of thing either, at least not Opal who lived by the mentality that once people were gone they were gone forever.
Half my anxiety came from the limited wardrobe out of my suitcase but considering it was just dinner and a dinner that would be had with the other bandmates and the girlfriends, there should've been no pressure. I wouldn't have told you this at the time, I barely want to write it down now, but the nerves I felt weren’t because of Alex, they were because of Arielle. Part of me wanted to be conceived as a non-threat. I was over those days. The other part of me—the stronger part—wanted her to be jealous of me and question why Alex and I ever broke up. I wasn't fully-formed yet. 
The two sides fought and then I just settled on jeans and a tank top because it was boiling outside and I was having drinks at Al's place, not the Windsors. Luckily, I showed up after Jamie and Katie so I thought of using Katie as a shield. I didn't accept Katie and Arielle to be talking though. The word traitor crossed through my brain and then I thought I must be regressing to my college days when Rosie and Will would feel each other up in front of me. Arielle was nice and I was probably an anxious bitch.
So, I hugged both of them as Alex came into the living room. He was staggering, dressed casually beside his uniform slicked hair. "Hey there," he greeted. He was calm, not an awkward bone in his body. He knew he had the upper hand. We were on his home turf with his hot girlfriend and I was a single mess who had been on plane after plane and stunk of cigarettes.
The room was hot with sweat dripping off every surface it seemed. The air conditioner was running but the flaming air came rushing in with the swing of the front door as Matt and Breana entered. The room became distracted by them, both looking darling. I hugged each of them, distracting myself in their grasp.
Arielle had lit candles for the dining table. It was the only thing formal about the informal event. The house itself was rather bare. Alex never carried much, I was always the one with the shit. 
Alex tapped my arm. "You want a drink?"
"What do you have?" I asked.
He waved his arm and I followed him to the kitchen, isolating ourselves. "Beer, wine, tequila, vodka, all the fixings. I can make you something if you'd like. Margarita?"
"Anything non-alcoholic?" Alcohol would ease my nerves but it would lead to my loud mouth and I couldn't afford that tonight.
He looked bewildered. "Who are you?" He joked.
We kept our distance. I pushed my hair behind my shoulder. "Got real drunk with Opal and Jackson last night. Figured I'd keep it clean. At least for now."
"Right then. Iced tea?"
He knew me well. I laughed at his smile and agreed to this. I moved closer to the refrigerator to just feel the cold air on my skin. He poured the glass, leaving the door open for me. I chugged the coldness like it was the elixir of life. It felt like my lungs re-inflated when the liquid dispersed and his eyes looked at mine again, so clearly over that fogged-up glass. Wet brown eyes into my baby blues and it felt like he might reach out and snatch them out of my eyes and keep them for himself. He always liked them. He has a thing for blue eyes.
We talked around the dining table, eating a mix of something Arielle had cooked and pizza. I had the pizza. Everyone talked loosely about things I had no knowledge of. Jokes about LA and all these people I had no concept of. I suppose if they had come to New York it would have been similar, except they all shared this with one another.
The sweet Breana turned the attention onto me, which partially made me shrink and revel in the joy of being included. "Oh, Jane, I loved the book!" Everyone chanted in similar sentiments all at once.
I laughed and took a bite of my pizza crust. "You didn't all read it," I laughed.
"I read parts of it," Jamie said. They were all sweet but I'm unsure how often any of them even had the chance to pick up a book, let alone their best friend's ex-girlfriend. Because that's what I was now. That was my title.
Alex looked at me. I could hear my mother's words ringing through his lips so I smiled and said, "Thank you."
"Disappointed I wasn't in it more," Matt said. "You know if it wasn't for me the book would've never been made." The long story of it has made that true but I can't give Matt credit for everything, it might go to his head too much.
"How's that?" Arielle asked. Everything shifted after that. We could all tell that she had been the wrong one to ask that question. Whether she was clueless and curious or was trying to make a dig at Alex, I wasn't sure, but I felt like an imposition being there. I didn't feel like an out-of-town friend. I felt like an ex-girlfriend.
Nobody spoke so I spoke. "Matt introduced me and Alex." I sipped my drink to wash down any other awkwardness.
Everyone seemed awkward other than Arielle. She quickly nodded and said, "Oh, yeah, Al told me that." I wondered why everyone else was so stiff when Arielle didn't seem to have much of a problem with it. Why should she when she looked like that?
I felt frumpy and had to pee badly from all the iced tea I had drank but I was too scared to go to the bathroom and see her things mixed with Alex's things. I could leave there with ambiguity and the belief that Alex didn't move on so quickly and I was stuck being alone.
"That was our first gig," Matt said. He seemed to relax, always the person to slice through any amount of tension. "Almost 10 years ago now."
"What was it like?" Arielle asked.
"Awful," Alex said. His eyes pointed toward me. "Right?"
"I don't know. I never reviewed it, remember?" He laughed and it felt inappropriate to display this inside language in front of everyone. "It feels weird that I'm the only one here who watched it." Even if that had been the case for many years, it had been a while since we all gathered around in a circle and talked about those days.
"I wasn't even there," Nick remarked. The room buckled with chuckles.
I laid my forehead against the palm of my hand resting against the table. "God," I said, "I spent that whole show with Will’s hand on my ass and Joanie screaming in my ear."
"Oh, god, Joanie," Matt muttered.
"Oh, god, Will," Jamie cracked.
"She got married last month," I told them. She had invited me but I was in the middle of the tour. We talked about once a year and everything was always nice. The only time I would've had the chance of running into her was when Alex and I visited Sheffield and that obviously wasn't happening anymore.
"Bless that man's heart," Matt quipped.
I shook my head. "No, she seems to have settled down in the last few years. I guess we all did. Seems so long ago."
"It was," Alex said. "We're getting old, Janie." His silence punctured the air. My lungs felt like they were deflating. He poured himself another glass.
Things grew looser and looser. They rattled off stories of LA, I rattled off stories from the road. Arielle excused herself to bed, citing an early morning. Her bed was upstairs.
Each couple left one by one until Alex and I awkwardly remained. I figured then I should leave. He walked me to the door with a freshly poured glass in his hand. "Hope I didn't keep you up too late," I said because I wasn't sure what else to say. It reminded me of what my parents said to each other after a fight. It was the one thing they clung to in order to keep their marriage somehow working.
He shook his head and sipped. "No, no. It's fine. You're always good company."
I shrugged. The whole thing kind of felt awkward, at least with him. I could laugh with Matt and throw my arm around Katie, even hug Arielle good night, but whenever my eyes landed on Alex, I tensed up so tightly I knew I'd be sore the next day. "If you're ever in New York or whatever."
He nodded and smiled. He would be visiting his old apartment. I wondered how that would make him feel. Was it the same when I walked into his house and noticed different shoes by the door than mine? Would the emptiness of his presence leave him uneasy? "I'd like that," Alex said.
"Thanks for having me." We reached the door and the end of the night but we stayed awkwardly staring at each other.
"Course. Text me when you're back at the hotel and safe and all that." He was drunk, rambling with an incapability of holding his tongue.
I smiled. "I will."
I didn't know whether to hug him or not. He leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn't affectionate. It was a peck. The kind my mother used to give me when left for school in the morning. Of course, she was my mother and I was 7 and Alex was drunk and I was, well, awkward. 
I said, "Night," and turned away. We never talked about it because there was nothing to talk about. It very well could have been a kiss on the cheek just like I gave Katie and Breana before they left. Of course, that was Katie and Breana and this was Alex—no longer mine.
*
Rain pattered against the window. Jackson and I returned to New York a week prior and we were now sitting in my apartment, drinking, and about to call Opal to join us. I felt dizzy and Jackson looked sleepy. It had been a long month.
"So," he said, "what's next?"
I finished off my glass. "What do you mean?" The year felt empty as the cold was beginning to creep into my summer warmth. 2012 was a bumpy year where so much yet so little happened. I was growing sick of my apartment because no matter how rid it was of Alex, he still had a whole life with me here. When I returned to it after the book tour, I was ready to move on.
Jackson placed his arm on the back of the couch. The tips of his fingers softly poked at my shoulder. "Now it's time to think about the next book."
I tossed my head back with a groan. "Gimme a break."
He chuckled and placed his empty glass on the end table. "No rush. For now."
I sat up straight, finishing off my glass, and growing more and more serious every day. "Thanks for doing this for me, Jackson."
He nodded. "My pleasure."
"I feel kind of empty," I confessed.
His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
I didn't feel like explaining it. I was growing tired of doing that with people. My stomach ached and I pushed Alex out of my mind. I felt that I had sacrificed our relationship for this success, even if it wasn't true. I thought I would have been over it by that time of year. It had been over a year. But it still felt so unnatural for him to feel so far removed from my life. Every word we spoke felt tinged with sadness and I didn't want it to feel that way. I wanted to move on.
I kissed Jackson. He kissed back. We never called Opal.
*
Jackson and I started dating in a casual way. We were exclusive to one another and treated each other as a boyfriend and girlfriend would but I suppose my association with dating was always a far deeper connection. I wasn't alone in this. Jackson had long-term girlfriends prior to me. He was older than me, not by some outrageous amount. He was born in 1979, seven years older, but I was 26 and 33 didn't feel so far off.
Opal loved it. She felt like the ultimate matchmaker and wanted to be both the maid of honor and the best man. My New York crew loved him. Fennel and Kaka found him to be rich in conversation. He liked going out more than Alex but then again most people liked going out more than Alex. Except more and more it seemed Alex enjoyed the going out part. (I was taken but I was still a snooping ex-girlfriend).
I didn't tell Alex. It felt awkward to call him up and tell him I got a new boyfriend. I decided to tell him when I saw him again, which didn't come up. He was in Los Angeles. I was in New York. We didn't talk very often either. I think I called him once in October because I couldn't remember the name of a restaurant we went to (he didn't remember either). 
Other than that, there wasn't much reason to talk. We had completely separate lives. But I was aware of what he was up to. I wasn't cyber-stalking him much anymore (only on nights when I was wildly intoxicated). I talked to Katie occasionally and texted Breana from time to time. Things about Alex would slip through the cracks and get to me but the majority of it was just that they were recording their new album.
We had both moved on. Or we were both pretending we did. At least I was pretending, in some form. I thought about him all the time. I didn't feel like a day went by when I didn't think about him. It wasn't in some romantic longing way. I had shared a life with him from such a young age and to be forced apart from it felt unnatural. There were so many jokes and stories that went untold because no one would get it but him.
When I went back home for the holidays, I confided this to my mother. I don't know why, maybe because of what she had told me so many years ago in Florida. I don't know if my mother ever actually liked Alex so I figured if she said awful things about him it would make me feel better. Of course, she didn't.
"It goes away," she said. "One day, you wake up and you're numb to it. You just get numb to it in the end, Jane. All those people you hated and loved turn to nothing. Even the ones you still want to love. You'll be thankful for it when the day comes that you don't feel anything anymore."
I frowned and my mother left me on the couch to fetch another bottle of wine. In retrospect, my mother was suffering from mental illness, but I was oblivious to that because I had grown oblivious to most of my mother's behavior. I just didn't want to engage with it anymore. Maybe part of me was numb toward her.
I didn't want to feel nothing. I couldn't imagine not feeling anything for Alex, even if we remained friends for the rest of our lives. I had tethered so much sentimentality toward him, he might as well have been a knick-knack on my shelf. Letting go of him would be letting go of an entire part of myself. I was content if that part only came out once a year when I saw him but I couldn't let go of it forever.
*
Joanie was having a baby. She likely got pregnant on her honeymoon. Someone my age having a child felt unnatural. I pictured Joanie being a teen mum, not a 26-year-old pregnant woman. She invited me to the baby shower taking place right after Christmas. It was ideal timing since all her closest friends would be in town or, like me, the country.
I debated going but decided that since I missed the wedding the least I could do was go to the baby shower. So, I drove the Beetle up to Wakefield. I figured it would be a mini-reunion. The only one I had seen as of late was Claire, who lived in Bristol now, and I hadn't seen since last winter.
We drove up together and listened to Radio 2 on full blast the whole way. I don't think I had ever felt more like a teenager even when I was a teenager. Claire continued her streak of always being a comfort for me. While other friends might be wedding and birthing, Claire had just ended her two-year-long relationship and gagged in her mouth at the thought of being a mother one day. 
It made me miss England so desperately. I forgot how much I ached to drive, which I hadn't done in years. The closest I had gotten to a car was the one taxi ride home drunk at 4 AM. And to drive on the left side of the road! I hadn't heard someone speak in a British accent since the dinner at Alex's. It eased my ears and made me wonder why I ever left, which just led to me thinking about Alex again.
Claire said, "I hate Alex, which sucks 'cause I like Alex." In a way, it summed up how conflicted I felt. Hate is a strong word but I was resentful for how everything went down. Then again, I probably didn't have much of a right.
Joanie's house was straight out of a picture book. I didn't know houses like that even existed in Wakefield. It wasn't fancy but at the sight of it, you'd call it a home. She had a little garden in the front that she said her husband grew herbs in that she used for cooking. It made Claire and I roll our eyes but we both desperately wanted that kind of companionship. If I ever would learn how to cook or grow plants, maybe that could be my life. I refused to do either, but it was a nice thought.
I bought Joanie—or Joanie's baby—these cozy fleece booties because that's what New York Magazine said to get. I never bought anything for a baby before (I got away with it two years ago during Harper's unmentioned pregnancy of my first nephew, Benjamin, by having my mother buy a gift for me) so I had no clue what to get. I bought Joanie this nice set of body washes that were her favourite when we were 17 with the hope that they either still were or she would feel nostalgic over them.
Claire and I ate a slice of cake and watched Joanie open her presents. Halfway through we turned to each other and decided we were going to go out drinking after. I love Joanie but oohing and awing over baby gifts with a bunch of women I barely knew got old quickly, especially incredibly sober and in the middle of the winter blues. The cake was good though.
The shower ended around 4 and while I was down to get hammered that early, Claire wanted to go out to lunch first. We ended up meeting up with AB at a pub. I hadn't seen AB since 2006 and I nearly cried at the sight of him all grown up. Claire and AB had broken up long ago but stayed in touch as good friends and if they could do it—two incredibly mature people—maybe Alex and I could too. 
AB's girlfriend of two years (and future wife), Shay, joined us as well. It almost made me barf how gorgeous they were together and I was shocked Claire wasn't fuming more over how beautiful Shay was. I was almost fuming over how beautiful Shay was!
AB sipped on a beer, which I don't think I had ever witnessed. He shared it was Shay and I swallowed down my drink at the painful thought that Alex and I once did things like that. I was such a sad sack. I thought about calling Jackson. Thank god I didn't.
We left the pub, hugging AB and Shay goodbye next to the Beetle. Claire and I were going to go back to the hotel to change out of our baby shower clothes and "hit the town.”
We waved goodbye to the couple and that's when I saw Alex with his mum. I turned my back to him and grabbed Claire's arm. "I think I'm gonna vomit."
She looked at me completely puzzled. "What? Why?"
I was so freaked out by the sight of him. I think the unexpected nature of it threw me off-balanced. I had never been that unnerved by the sight of him. My head felt like my brain was about to burst out of my ears. "Get in the car," I harshly muttered to her.
She was still unaware but she raced around the side of the car to get into the passenger seat. We bolted out of there before he crossed the street.
*
It was midnight when I called him. I was definitely drunk, but not wasted, standing outside a club smoking while Claire chatted up with some guy inside. I was freezing and felt so childish for doing it, even in the moment, but I wanted to see him. It shouldn't feel right that I was here and he wasn't.
"Hello." His voice was clear so he hadn't been sleeping. I wonder if he was in bed (with Arielle).
I swallowed whatever dignity I had left and let the rest loose. "Hey. I'm in Wakefield for Joanie's baby shower 'cause apparently we're old enough to have children now and now I'm out with Claire at a club. We drove up together from Bath, well, Bristol for her, Bath for me, but you know that. Jesus. I saw you earlier today and raced into my car because I was so scared by the sight of you, which made me realize I'm not as mature as I thought I was. And it was just after we went to lunch with AB and Shay and Claire and AB still get along like they didn't have this romantic relationship and I know that we get along too but I raced to my car and nearly shit myself. Now, I'm outside a club smoking in the middle of winter because I apparently regress back to teenage tendencies when I'm in Yorkshire or maybe just England in general. Anyway, I'm drunk and I'm thinking this was stupid and it probably is but I know you're probably laughing at me right now but I'm freezing my ass off and I can't figure out how to get back inside the club and Claire isn't answering her phone, which means she's probably shagging someone or something and I wouldn't want to interrupt that, you know, and I probably should just get a cab back to the hotel but I called you for some reason. Well, not for some reason because I'm drunk. Okay, now you talk."
I was out of breath and sure I had just lost my mind. I need another shot of tequila. I felt I was growing too sober to face the repercussions of this. I took a drag of my cigarette and listened to his breathing on the other end of the line.
I could hear his smile. I still had a knack for that kind of thing. "I saw you too, you know."
I slapped my forehead and thought about slamming my head into the brick wall until it broke my skull and my brain gushed out. "Did it look like we were being held at gunpoint?"
He chuckled lowly. "A little. But I must've looked like someone pointed a gun at me. I'd recognize that car anywhere, Janie."
I didn't know what to say. My car was such a sensitive topic for both of us. It was the cornerstone (ha) of our relationship, especially for the car to be returned to its rightful county. I thought I'd feel weird driving it but everything felt right like it was a complete homecoming. Like nature had found its way and every piece fell perfectly into the puzzle.
"I thought I would be grown up by now," I confessed.
He suppressed a laugh. "I like you this way. Makes me feel less alone."
"How so?"
He waited, not wanting to fully let the truth go but it was me he was talking to. There wasn't much point in lying. "I've called you in various states of intoxication too."
"Not after running to your car," I pointed out.
"Yeah, well, I'm sure I'll do it one of these days." It was a silence but a vibration rang across the line to one another. Call it a vibe or a wavelength or just a feeling, but I could feel him like he was standing right next to me. "Where are you?"
It was so embarrassing I laughed. "Che & Coco." It was Barnsley College's resident bar and nightclub. The average age of the crowd was barely 20 and I felt like such a loser trying to claim that nostalgia is what made me want to club there.
"Geez, you really are down bad." His laughter rang through the phone and I nearly hung up due to how beet red my face was. He laughed and laughed. I could picture him with his hands on his knees, walking home from Will's house, unable to breathe he was laughing so hard. Then, I couldn't breathe. "You want me to pick you up?"
I'd like that a lot but I couldn't take it. That was a bridge too far. "No, no. I'll just call a taxi or something. Maybe even walk. My hotel isn't that far."
"You're gonna walk in Barnsley at midnight? Hope you don't get hit with a beer bottle," he joked. That had happened to Will back in the day. I'm convinced it made him even dumber if that's possible.
"I've walked later than this in New York," I reasoned.
"Janie," he stopped me, "I'd like to see you if you won't run away from me."
I sighed. "I'll see you in 20. I'll be waiting on Peel." Because maybe I would like to see him too.
He pulled up in his mum's car. It wasn't her car from way back in the day but it made him feel sophomoric to me. His hair wasn't gelled up, instead falling around in tendrils of combed-back magic. He had a hoodie on and a smile on his face. He honked the horn of the car and I dashed across the street to his car.
The car was warm, at least warmer than outside where I had been suffering. I tugged my coat closer and put my seatbelt on. "Hi."
Alex smiled over at me. "Hi." He pulled back onto the road and I couldn't remember the last time he had driven me. "How've you been?"
I shrugged in his peripheral vision. "Fine. Christmas was fine. My dad bought me Slouching Toward Bethlehem."
Alex laughed. "About 10 years too late."
"Yeah, but at least he's trying. I can't remember the last time he bought me a gift." My mother handled all the presents, something she was rather good at, even if it always felt like she didn't know me.
We stopped at a red light. "I didn't get anything for you," he said while looking over at me.
"Well, I didn't get you anything either." First time in eight years. It didn't even cross my mind. "This is enough of a present anyway."
He nodded in agreement. "Good." I believed him. The nod of his head told me that this meant as much to me as it did to me. Drunk actions are sober thoughts and sometimes I just wanted to hear his voice.
We kept driving. I had yet to tell him any directions. He was headed the right way but I wouldn't have had the willpower to tell him anyway. I liked driving around with him. I liked just this. The vibration of the road beneath us and the scent of him washing over me. The slowness of Yorkshire and the heat of him beside me. It made everything feel right.
"Arielle come with you?"
He rubbed his eye. He looked tired. "Nah. She went to her parents’." I nodded and he waited, looking over at me. I stared at him blankly. He looked back at the road and kept the car moving. "What about, uh, Jackson?"
My head snapped toward him. "He's at his parents’." I picked at my nails. I didn't want to talk about this. Why did it feel like I was cheating on him? It felt like Alex had died and I was some widower trying to move on but his ghost was coming back to shame me.
"Katie mentioned something," he muttered.
"Yeah," I explained, "just a few months."
He nodded slowly. "He's a nice guy." I laughed out loud. He laughed too, for some reason. "What?"
I shook my head. "We don't have to talk about my boyfriend."
"Okay. We don't have to talk about Arielle." It was probably some form of cheating, emotionally. We gazed at one another and never acted on anything, but the aftertaste of it didn't feel right. But in the moment, everything had fallen perfectly into place.
We went nowhere and neither of us said a single thing about it. The drive from the club to my hotel was ten minutes. We drove around for an hour.
"Joanie's house is beautiful. It's like my dream house. It isn't big but it's not a cottage or anything. But it's quaint. She's got plants and I never thought Joanie could take care of a living thing and now she's gonna have a baby," I told him. I fiddled with the radio, even though we weren't gonna listen to it.
"Are you sure they aren't fake?" He joked. I chuckled and hit his shoulder. "Eh! Watch it. I'm driving here, missy."
I held my hands up as a defense. I eased them back down with a giggle and tugged on my seatbelt strap. "You know, I thought I'd have a baby by now."
He snorted. "No, you did not."
"At one point I did. I mean, back before you. Like when I was still playing with dolls." 
He laughed again and everything made sense. "Good thing you don't. You can't even keep a plant alive."
"They're not self-sufficient enough."
"And you think a baby will be easier?"
"Not anymore but at six I did! It was right around when Stacey was born. I took good care of her."
Alex felt warm with a smile. "You did." He was an only child but at times I felt he might consider her a sister too. She considered him a brother. He had been around since she was 11. She was only a little over a year away from graduating university. 
"Granted I didn't have to breastfeed her."
It was still dark outside but it felt like the sun was rising in that car. "You wouldn't be happy living Joanie's life."
"How do you know?" I questioned. "Maybe if I was settled I'd feel better."
Alex's jaw gaped. He breathed a laugh and I looked over at him curiously. "Jane, you'd be losing your mind. The whole time I knew you here, you were begging to get out of here."
"Maybe I had it all wrong."
He shook his head, never looking over at me, just driving. "You're a completely different person because you got out of here. You're gonna get all that stuff one day. The kid, the garden, whatever the fuck you want, but you'd never have what you have no if you stayed put. You always knew what you wanted. Your gut is always right. I've learned that."
I sighed and accepted he was right. "Grass is always greener, I guess."
"Yeah," he agreed. "But I think you have the greenest grass. You're the one who's a bestseller."
I rolled my eyes and leaned on the center console. "She's the one with the husband and baby."
He scoffed, "So is half the world. You have a tough time being proud of your accomplishments."
I gasped. "Look who's talking. My god!"
Alex chuckled and it felt like food for my soul. Fertilizer to my soil to keep growing. "Fair enough. But be cocky every once and a while, Janie. You deserve it."
I took what he said to heart but ignored him. I wanted to talk about something else. I wanted to put my feet in his lap and ride to Charlton Brook. Instead, I leaned back and looked at him. "We used to talk about the future so much and now it's come and gone."
"You're not dead yet." But we were. I think that's what I really meant. All those things I had planned with him and I had to be content with letting them go. Watching those promises slip through my fingers. I had no right to feel that way but it's all I felt.
I wanted to tell him I loved him with the windows rolled down and the cold air rushing in because he used to let me do that. I believe that right had been revoked. "I missed it here." The truth was hidden in those words, in between the lines, deep in those letters, stuffed in between them.
He hummed, glancing over. "Me too. Everything feels a little simpler."
I heard the radio speaking, ringing some familiar tune that I couldn't think of the name. Maybe if it had been a little simpler and Alex and I stayed there forever, in the car ride between Wakefield and High Green, we'd have a house, a garden, a ring, a little thing on the way. 
But I would've missed out on a lot more. I would have missed out on a lot of Alex. How he was with his hair long in the middle of Joshua Tree, looking over at me instead of the night sky. How he made up our bed in our London studio apartment into a couch because we didn't have enough space for one. How he felt sitting next to me on the C train at 2 AM. How he felt in the dead of winter in Yorkshire, somehow ending up at my hotel with a hoodie I used to wear and a smile he still wears just for me.
I'll never know otherwise. And that's fine.
*
a/n: this was a struggle but i think it landed right in the end. much, much more to come.
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