#knocks me on my ass for 48 hours and I had an early meeting today

[badolmen]

Not a bad first impression or a good first impression but some secret third thing (a normal first impression that went well but that I am stressing over for no particular reason)

[tbgblr]

One Evening At Home

Wrote in conjunction with Concentrateandpush.

This story is told from the point of view of our 2 protagonists, Andy and Jess, and is the story of the birth of their first child.

Andy POV:

“Get your ass home quick, the contractions have picked up so much, its much faster than I’d expected”

That was the last message from my wife, about an hour ago as I rushed away from work saying my apologies to my manager – admittedly, he was prepared for the need for me to dash away – he’s been keeping up to date with the pregnancy since we announced it – he is my dad after all.  I guessed contractions had supposedly come on suddenly, and much faster than she originally hoped, though as this was our first, she knew she had nothing to compare it to, and the 48 hours of back pain she felt over the last couple of nights seems to have been something a bit more, let’s say, productive.

My wife, Jess, was a similar age to me, in our late 20’s and truth be told, we had a bit of a shotgun wedding.  We’d dated each other for years, and never thought about tying the knot… until after she pee’d on a stick and the result was clear we were about to expand our little family, we thought we had better get it done.  We eloped with our families blessing – after all, we didn’t feel we could spend months planning for a big wedding – so instead we dragged a few nearest and dearest away for a civil ceremony as Jess was 6 months into her pregnancy.

Jess’s maid of honour was her friend Sophia, who she had known since they were kids.  She came from a family of Spaniards, and truth be told, she was a bit of a wild child.  Not wanting to go into too much detail, but there were 3 of us in a bed on more than one occasion after a drunken night out on the town.  Jess was always open about being bisexual, but her ultimate desire was to settle down and crate a family – she did admit to dabbling with a few ladies who we both approved of from time to time, but I understand Sophia was her ‘special one’ that helped her realise her feelings long before she met me.

Both Jess and Sophia work as midwives.  I suppose that’s kind of important given that right now it seems, Sophia is currently supporting Jess whilst I race back home.  Jess is finally going to get to experience first hand the thing she did most days of the week, at least until she took time off for maternity leave.

Jess POV:

I have a strange relationship with Sophia.  We’re as close as can be, but friendship evolved into a sexual relationship really early.  Thankfully we haven’t let it ruin our working relationship, and I’d have wanted no one else to support me as I give birth.  Sophia of course knows that I’ve been as horny as hell all through this pregnancy so we came up with a plan to satisfy my needs one last time when we celebrated the end of my pregnancy. It wouldn't be the first threesome we had, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but, having this huge bump is such a turn on, it would be rude not to use it to our advantage.

 It's around 10.50 am. The contractions are definitely creeping up on me. Today is the day we get to meet our little one, I'm so excited, though I'm excited in other ways also. I text Sophia as I jump in the bath "It's time" and before I know it she's texted back "On my way sweetie."  The wait is pretty long and despite not being that far into my labour, I'm really feeling these contractions... oh my god, they really hurt, really bad.  I take the opportunity in an empty house to really moan it out before they're both here.

I need him, my husband, right now.  I text him that it’s go time.  I'm sure that text will get him to jump into action, he’s been like a coiled spring since we hit our due date. He works about 30 minutes away and I expect there will be traffic.  A knock at the door and ringing of the doorbell announces Sophia at the door. I heave myself out of the bath and grab a towel that barely fits around me and walk to the door.

"Hi Mommy" she smiles as she hugs my tight contracting body. "How you feeling?" She asks, "I'm kinda nervous, but more excited… should we start before he gets home?" I ask. "I mean.. sure, let's check your dilation" Sophie replies before leading me inside, shutting the door and getting down onto her knees, parting my legs a little, and pushing the towel back, exposing myself to her.  She inserts her slender fingers into my dripping opening. "You've got loads of time, you're about a 2 or 3. How long will he be and how are we doing this?" she asks. 

I remember years ago, Sophia and I had to make a video for college.  The two of us were both considering training to be midwives, so for the added shock factor, we staged a fake birth video, me stuffing towels up my top and Sophia acting as my midwife, we were both so turned on by it that we ate each other out between takes. "Do you still like birth?" I ask as she nods. I get on the birthing ball and start to roll my hips "Fuck it hurts so bad" I moan as she smiles "You're so hot like that, I can’t wait to see the real thing" she says before getting on her knees and exploring my clit with her tongue. I can’t help but shiver and shake at the sensation, my sensible brain making way to something a little more primal as my body squeezes hard as I ride out a contraction.

Checking my phone for updates, I see that my husband is just around the corner, so I pass the word on to Sophia and we get ready for the real fun and games to begin…

Andy POV:

I come barging through the door, hearing it slam behind me as I yell my apologies “traffic was hell, got here as fast as I could” as I take off my coat and poke my head into the living room.  The scene that greets me isn’t something I was expecting.  Seeing my wife basically naked – she had a sheet covering her – bent over her inflatable birthing ball groaning whilst swaying back and forth isn’t something you’re greeted with every day.

Sophia was sat on the sofa writing some notes, both pairs of eyes focused on me as I appeared.

“She’s at 8 centimeters, doing really well, but has some back pain that could do with being looked into whilst I’m writing this up.   Good thing you got here when you did, as she may be ready to push any moment given how fast this is going” was the quick appraisal I got from Sophia as I scrambled down behind my wife’s ass and pressed my hands into her lower back, massaging around the area as she swayed her hips back and forth.

Jess’s groans changed in pitch, she seemed to be relieved at the pressure, the groans sounding more pleasurable than painful at this point.  She simply uttered the sentence “that right there is perfect” as my hands started doing their work.

The next moment caught me by surprise.  She backed her ass into my crotch and started grinding.  I couldn’t stop myself, my cock practically sprung up in response. “Seriously, right now?” I gasped in shock.  I then realised both ladies were supressing giggles.  They had planned this knowing exactly how I would respond.  

Sophia stood up and started unbuttoning her blouse, my look of confusion still on my face.  I quickly noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra, her symmetrical breasts as gorgeous as ever each time I saw them.  Realisation finally dawned on me when Jess whined “come on, get them off, show me what you’re packing” all sign of any pain gone from her voice and mannerisms as she pressed her ass back into me forcefully knocking me backwards, then shuffling around on her knees to face me.

“You bitches are going to get me sacked” I say “you do realise Dad’s going to kill me if he found out I left unnecessarily.”

“That’s the beauty of it… Jess is in labour, but hell, she’s a first timer, this might take hours yet.”

“Wait... what…” confusion was once again present on my face.

“Yeah, sorry babe” purred Jess “we decided that we wanted our wicked way at least once more whilst I had this big bump” she emphasised this by rubbing her belly, the blanket that was covering her falling to the floor by her arm movements.  “These things do still hurt like crazy, but they’re manageable right now.  I’m sure your lovely cock will help me manage the pain too…” she said with a coy grin.

“So I thought I may as well get some too” whispered Sophia from behind me, hands over my shoulders and rubbing my chest, the girls winking at each other.

Jess POV:

I wont lie, I'm thirsty for this, looking at the both of them I’m ridiculously turned on, I don’t even know where to begin.  Sophia makes the first move. "We have to make sure Mommy gets the most out of the both of us, yeah Daddy?" She says to Andy winking. Andy takes the lead and starts to suck on my breasts, drinking from me and ensuring no drop goes missing, whilst Sophia explores my pussy with her fingers, reaching under my belly from beside me. I'm already so wet, I can hear the slick movements of her fingers inside me. 

"Let's get you to the bed Mommy" Andy says as he picks me up with ease and carries my sore, full body to the bed, putting me down gently as if I were the most fragile thing in the world. I see Sophia go to the sex drawer, an area of our bedroom she is well acquainted with. "I think this will do" she says, walking over with one of my vibrators as she switches it on. She gets on her hands and knees and kisses my neck, my collar bones, my perked nipples, my huge bump and my pussy. 

Andy comes up behind her and starts touching her from behind "My my... aren’t you ready Sophia" he says, in an almost professional sounding voice. Sophia applies the vibrator to my clit and starts to simulate me as I arch my back. All the while my eyes had been closed enjoying the feel of Sophia’s hands caressing my body.  I notice her moaning and open my eyes to look over at my husband forcing his length into her, thrusting his immaculate body into her as he tilts his head back and moans. My shoulders become tense as my stomach contracts, but I can breathe through it, it's not that bad, yet. 

He fucks her a little while longer, allowing her to reach her climax, but I need more, it's taken me longer to cum since being pregnant. "Maybe I should see to Mommy?" Andy says to Sophia as I lick my lips with anticipation.  Sophia helps me sit up and move forward a bit on the bed as she then sits behind me with her legs open allowing me to lay back on her.  She starts to squeeze milk from my sore nipples, as I tilt my pelvis and open my legs in anticipation of the length my husband is about to put into me.  He slides the condom off that he had managed to get on before entering Sophia with a grin, wanting to feel skin on skin contact from within me.

"Mmm" I moan as I feel him moving inside me, the width of him filling me nicely, though I shiver in anticipation of what will fill me soon.  I feel the baby kick as soon as he enters me and I rub my huge, dropped belly as he thrusts further and further into me. Sophia leans forward and cradles my bump, rubbing me attempting to relax my contraction that she feels in my tightening, hard stomach. 

"Are you ready Mommy?" Sophia asks knowing I'm about to climax, "No, I need more, help me into doggy" I say demanding he waits before cumming inside me. Sophia looks at Andy wondering how much longer he can last as she supports me on to my hands and knees "Get under me" I tell her. Sophia kneels on the floor by the bed and takes one of my breasts in her hand.  I let her drink from me as Andy continues to fuck me, "Harder" I tell him as I feel him pick up the pace "Didn't you hear her Daddy, she needs you to be rough" Sophia says, winking. 

"Fuck" Andy moans, I know this is a moan of desperation, he wants this to last longer, I do too, but I've been able to manage my contractions so far and I know I won’t be able to much longer. Sophia moves from her position and grabs my hand as I wince, still aware I’m going through a contraction. "I'm gonna cum" Andy shouts from behind me and I look up at Sophia "You've got this Mommy" she says as she feels my body tense up. 

"Uuhhhh" Andy moans as I feel myself become full of his cum, the three thrusts following brought me to my climax as I moaned out loud "Fuck" and relieved, I collapse onto my elbows on the bed. Sophia strokes my head and watches me as I breathe, then suddenly all I hear is "Push it out for me" Andy growls, referring to his cum sitting comfortably inside me, "Push for me" he demands as I push ever so slightly. I hear a pop as I push and look up at his panicked face "Your waters Jess, your waters have broke" he says. "It’s okay Andy, that’s entirely normal, you did good there big boy” she grinned as I come down from my orgasm high, blowing out a long breath as the pain finally ramps down from the contraction.

Andy POV:

The next few hours seemed to go over really fast.  After Jess’s water broke, everything seemed to ramp up by a significant factor.  She didn’t want to sit in the soaking bed, so Sophia took her into the bathroom for a shower, whilst I stripped the sheets and did what I could to dry out the mattress.  I did what I could in the time I had, and eventually decided to just put the waterproof sheet we had gotten for the birth on the bed after that, making it as comfortable as I could with new bedding on top.  Satisfied that I’d gotten the area set up where I presumed Jess would want to give birth, I walked into the bathroom to see how they were getting on. I opened the door to find them both naked, each inside the shower cubicle.  I thought about trying to squeeze in myself, but it wouldn’t work – 2 plus bump was about all that could physically fit in there.  I was content to watch.  Jess was making some incredible noises, moaning and groaning, but they didn’t sound pained, they sounded sexual…  maybe I was still horny.    She wasn’t really focusing on me, her arms were up and her head was nestled against the back of her wrists, as she leaned against the wall, Sophia’s hands moving up and down her back in a rhythm that seemed to coincide with something that Jess was feeling.  Water cascaded down both their bodies, and the steam in the room from the heat left everything just a little hazy.

I couldn’t help myself… my hands slipped down to my cock and I started stroking.  It was like a show of polar opposites, Slim, tanned Sophia and my full pregnant wife, completely untanned and something we always struggled to achieve – poor genetics I guess.

Sophia noticed first, sending an admiring glance to my hand and what it held, blowing me a kiss as she returned her focus to my wife.  Finally, whatever contraction Jess was under ebbed away and she then came back into the room, looking over at me and seeing what I was doing.

She grinned “Glad you’re enjoying the show” with a look on her face that made me weak at the knees. Nice to know she was still aware even when wracked with pain.

She opened the shower and got out in front of me, slowly kneeling down to get on her knees, in front of me.  “My turn” she announced, as she grasped my cock with both hands and started taking over. One hand rubbed the sensitive end whilst another did a twist and pull move over and over again, wet hands from the shower slipping up and down the shaft.  She groaned as another contraction picked up and leaned forward, taking my cock into her mouth, and sucking as she slowly retracted it.  It came out of her mouth with a pop causing me to gasp.  I knew I wouldn’t cum again, but that doesn’t mean my cock was any less sensitive.  

Jess finally leaned back with a groan, putting her hands on the back of her ankles, pushing her belly out in some sort of yoga pose, thrusting her pelvis forward.   “Everything hurts… come feel in there for me” she begged.   I got down onto my knees myself and put my fingers into her pussy and I looked up at Sophia.  

“Push in right to the back, feel for her cervix.  Yes, that’s it… now right in the middle, that is your baby’s head.  You can measure her dilation if you want” I tried but couldn’t figure out the size of it, just felt around the circle of the stretched skin around the head.  “No… don’t know what to do” I say, a little defeated.  Sophia grinned “and now you know why medical school takes so bloody long” as we both laughed, even Jess managed to grin.  She stood by my side and said that she would take a look.  I used the opportunity to slowly snake my fingers out and rest on Jess’s clit the “ooh” of appreciation music to my ears. Sophia got down and repeated my insertion, but this time, she announced “you’re at 5… half way there, yay!”  Her enthusiasm was infectious.

Jess announced that the contractions were getting much worse so she wanted to ride them out by herself a little bit, so I helped her towel off, as she went back into the bedroom, making sure that she should shout if she felt anything.  Sophia was used to this, but it came a little unexpected to me, so I naturally worried, and wanted to be at my wife’s side.

Sophia towelled off and got dressed, headed to get her notes ready so far, whilst I decided to check and see what was happening at work, and keep my dad updated on the current events.

After an hour or so, Jess decided to join us back in the living room, much to my relief, as she moved all over the place, leaning against the wall, bouncing on the ball, kneeling in front of the sofa.  She even had an opportunity to have a quick facetime chat with my dad, who seemed pleased as ever that things were going well.   Don’t think Jess realised that she basically flashed her bare tits at my dad though… guess that’s something to tell the grandkids in the future.

Jess POV:

Cutting to the chase, I've laboured for around 3 hours since my water broke, the contractions are one on top of another. My underbelly is so hard, it feels abnormal to touch. Everything is tense and my lower back feels like its bending in half. I'm on the sofa doing what I can to cope with the pain, Sophia's making tea and Andy is on his computer answering emails. It's getting close to needing them to hold me now, I'm starting to feel a lot of pressure. 

I can feel the baby getting lower and lower, this contraction is the hardest so far, I've been able to pant through the rest of them but I’m finally forced to vocalise the pain "Nggggg" I moan out loud, within a few seconds Sophia's sat between my legs and Andy is holding my hand. "It's okay sweetie let me check you" Sophia says calmly as she put her fingers in me "Okay, things are speeding up now, you're about a 9, let's get you comfortable and ready to push your baby out" she says smiling as she rubs my bump. 

Andy carries me to the bed and puts me down gently, as I unfold and stretch my body I feel another contraction tightening me up. "It hurts so bad" I cry to Andy as he strokes my head and kisses my forehead. "Ohh god, oooh god I can feel myself opening" I moan holding the back of my knees and wincing a little.

"Breathe it through sweetheart, you're going to be okay" Sophia says as she rubs my thigh "Try not to waste that energy on screaming right now" she says and I nod. It hurts so much, but I can’t move. I'm on my back with my legs parted to either side of the bed, it hurts less if I open them as wide as I can. "Can she push yet?" Andy eagerly asks. "Do you feel ready?" Sophia asks me softly and I nod. "Well you're fully dilated, so when you get that contraction, push against my fingers, can you feel them here?" She says as she presses her fingers into me, resting the back end of them against the edge of my perineum and the fingertips deep into me, against the baby’s head.

I can feel it coming, it's so painful, I'm just hoping pushing gives me some relief. Holding my legs back I take a deep breath and bare down gently just to see how it feels, I take a quick breath and push again, this time a little harder with a moan. "You can go again if you want?" Sophia says smiling. I take another breath and push, pulling my legs as tight as they'll go. "Good job" she says nodding at me, sliding her finger around my opening trying to stretch it manually for me. 

I start to feel another contraction and I hold Andy's hand ready to push holding one leg back, "NNGGGGG" I push, holding it a little longer than the last, then my head falls back onto Andy as I pant and try to catch my breath. "Uuuggggggh" I grunt as I give another push. "That's it, keep it coming like that, you're moving the head down" I quickly take a breath and bare down again "OOWWW" I cry as I feel baby’s head widening me. I can’t do this, it hurts so much and I feel like I'm going to tear. 

"Okay, this isn't working, let's get you up into a squat and Andy, hold her under her arms so she doesn’t have to support her weight" before I know it I'm in position and I'm really struggling. "I can’t do this, its stuck" I say before Sophia chuckles, "Of course you can do it Jess, come on, this position is loads better I can see the head here". At least there’s progress, I clench my fists and press them against my knees to try and get leverage from somewhere, "AAHHHH" I moan as I feel the head crowning "that's it Jess, you're doing it" Sophia beams.

I didn’t know it would be like this, the burning is seriously hurting "Am I tearing? Just tell me if I am, its stinging so bad" I say as I cry looking at Sophia. She shakes her head and says "If you keep pushing, the heads going to come out". "Hoo hoo hoo" I pant ready to hold my breath and push, "Hhhhhhnnngg" I moan pushing as hard as I can, "ohhhh" I grunt again as I push. Then I feel a sense of relief as baby’s head comes out of me with an audible popping noise, accompanied by a few pints of amniotic fluid. "Reach down and feel your baby" Sophia says, taking my hand to the head. It's so slimy, but there’s hair "what colour hair?" I ask, knowing myself and Andy are red heads, "what do you think?" Sophia answers smiling. 

"Come on Jess, the head is here, so just the shoulders left and your baby’s here" she smiles "You're doing it, push your baby out" she adds. "I've been pushing for ages, why isn’t it coming out?" I ask winging before I know I need to move. "Can I lay on my side?" I ask as Andy supports me as I lay down, making ever so sure that the baby’s head isn’t constricted in any way. He hooks my leg back as far as it will go, and once again I give a push as much as I can manage. "Yes Jess, this is working for you, big pushes now, push for me" She says as she guides the shoulders with her hands "come on Jess, big push". 

I bare down and feel stronger in this position, I spend about 40 minutes like this, pushing, panting and pushing some more but I can’t get it out. "We’ve got some sticky shoulders here Mommy" Sophia says as I pant, exhausted from all the pushing. "Do you trust me?" Sophia asks, and I instantly nod, "let's get you onto Andy's lap and he can pull your legs back for you, let him do all the pulling and were going to concentrate on getting the baby out okay?" She smiles as I nod at her letting Andy mould me like I'm a doll.

"That's it, okay, I'm going to do my bit this end and you're going to push as hard as you can for me" Sophia says. "You can do this baby" Andy says kissing the top of my head, which is now pressed into his chest. I nod my head forward and press my chin to my chest, scrunching my face up "Hhunngggg", I feel one of the shoulders budge and I wriggle with pain from the stretching, yelling out with the unexpected movement. "Oohhh goooddd" I moan as Sophia nods "One more push to get it out" she says excitedly. I push, grunting as loud as I can "OOHHHHHHH" I moan as Sophia catches the baby, remnants of the amniotic fluid splashing over her as she holds up the slippery infant in her hands.

"It’s a little boy" she laughs with relief passing him over to me. "He's so perfect" she says smiling at me as I pant.  I look over at Andy and realise he’s crying. "Hello little guy" Andy smiles as our son wraps his tiny finger around his big thumb. "I can’t believe you came out of me" I smile stroking my newborns head, his lips moving to latch onto my breast.

[addysonsophia]

Pressed Coffee

Pairing: Johnny x Reader (gender-neutral terms were used, but I had a fem!reader in mind when writing this).

Genre: Fluff, angst, some suggestive situations (not really).

Word Count: 9.1K

Summary: This is difficult to explain. I had to write this for a college lit class following the form of David Levithan’s Lover’s Dictionary, which twists the “normal” way of defining words. Told through the lens of a man we learn about his relationship, the reader doesn’t know the sequence of the events that are taking place before our very eyes, through the words that he has chosen to define with tableaus of his love life. I did this with Johnny, and I think I did a good job. Wow, this was a bad summary. Let’s try: How coffee can lead to a beautiful romance. Yeah that’s ok.

Warnings: None, some angst near the end. 

Caffeine n.

           I was late, like always.

           I woke up a whole hour later than normal, and that caused me to do a speed-run version of my morning routine. Good thing I shower at night—a great time saver. I left my apartment in twenty minutes; as I stepped out the door the noises of the morning surrounded me: cars bumper to bumper through the city making their way to work: morning joggers with their dogs and strollers zooming past the seemingly frozen vehicles; birds swooping down from the sky to the land, hopping, and hoping for some food.

           I quicken my pace as I head to the subway station on 48th Street; my shoes just a tiny bit too tight today, barely allowing me to keep my speed. Closer, I get to the orange sign, the faster time moves, never letting me get ahead, leaving me two steps behind. Down the stairs with a quick hop in my step, and a swipe of my subway card, I wait on the platform for my train. I looked to my watch, then to the board above the tunnel—the train was seven minutes way.

           “Crap.” Was what I said out loud but, in my head, I was breaking down. It takes a lot to make me stressed but being late was suspect number one. Being late, is like a mortal sin that has been ingrained into my psyche from a young age: all my after-school activities in high school emphasized how important being on time was. “If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. If you’re late, you’re dead.” That is what many band teachers, drama directors, and coaches have said to me. In college, there were consequences to being late, the beginning of practices would be spent running for every person not there (if they didn’t inform the coach that they would be late), then when the offender would arrive, they would run. Being on time shows that you are respectful, aware of other people and their time that they are giving up to also be there.

           With the rising levels of stress, I shot my boss a quick text:

           “I’m running a bit late. I’ll be in soon. Would you like me to pick anything up for you?”

           A minute later, she responded with:

           “That’s fine, you don’t have tons of work like normal. Can you get me a coffee? You know my order ;)” A sigh of relief fell from my mouth at the message, and the growing squealing sounds from the tunnel. I send back a thumbs up and slip my phone back into my pocket.

          The wind of the underground picks up as a silver train flew by, slowly coming to a halt. As the doors open, people being to push their way into their spots—I take mine towards the front of the car, another hand joining the many others on the rail overhead. Swaying back and forth, the lights flicker above me as the air conditioning blows; a baby sits on their parents’ lap in front of me with the biggest smile on their chubby face. A small wave is all it takes to grab the baby’s attention, smiling back, I make a funny face at them, and now they’re bubbling with the cutest laughter. They reach out to take my hand, their ravioli sized fist wraps around my pointer finger, and the last of my stress melts away with this little angel in front of me. The parent, also has a smile on their face, appeased with the behavior of their child—any form of travel with a baby is hard, so I try and make it a little easier for them.

          Sadly, my stop was up, and I waved bye to my new friend. I stepped off the train and headed up the stairs to 110th street. I already knew what coffee shop I was going to: there is a small café down the block from my office that has the best drinks and snacks—which was prefect because I had to skip breakfast. Hauling ass through the streets towards Papaya Acres Café, I mentally prepared my order.

           “One large, caramel swirl ice coffee, two and two liquid sugar; one medium hot coffee with regular cream and sugar; and a croissant with butter, warmed.” The bell chimed as I pulled the glass door open and was immediately bathed in the scent of coffee and sweets. I inched forwards in line towards the cash register, when I made it, I recited my order perfectly, paid, then waited at the pick-up counter. The bell above the door twinkling when more customers came in, the melodic music coming from the speakers, and the whining from the espresso machine. I pulled my phone out to kill time before my order was ready, I opened Twitter and started scrolling through my feed.

           “Dude, you can’t just, like, look at someone like that and not expect to get punched in the face.”

           “I didn’t mean too! There was a-a-I don’t even remember, but she didn’t have to punch me.” What did this guy do? I know that I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it, I had to listen in.

           “I don’t know, I saw your face, and I would have punched it too if you were looking at me like that.” The man, that was facing me, had brown hair that was styled away from his face, leaving his brown eyes on display—they were light and full of mischief. He wore a grey sweatshirt that looked comfy as hell, and he had a smile stretched across his face.

           “Well, he seems nice.” I whisper to myself, my lips dancing into a smile. I turned my back to them, deciding it better to not listen in anymore.

           “I don’t know any—”

           “Miss, here’s your order.” Two coffees sat in a carrying tray and a bag—hopefully containing my croissant—in between the drinks.

           “Thank you, have a great day.” My smile grew as I picked up my order. Turning back to the door, I began texting my boss that I was on my way. I made it a few steps when my hands were knocked towards me.

          He was early, like always.

 Frustrated adj.

           Today, out of any day, today was the day that I was going to cry in public. Now, I never usually cry, not at movies (sometimes I do, I’m not heartless), not at sad songs, not when I’m stressed, and definitely not in public. But this just broke the dam.

           There I stood, in the middle of a coffee shop, with both boiling and freezing coffee down the front of my white sweater—well, my now, brown sweater—and cute black pants. The clear plastic cup sat crushed next to the paper cup, the rest of the hot coffee melting the ice on the floor. A pair of faded, black converse faced my black shoes. Tears begin to pool in my eyes, the tiled floor becoming blurry, hands clasp my shoulders and my head snaps up.

           “Are you okay?” Deep brown eyes stare back at mine. The tears being to race down my face.

           “Yeah.” I nod slowly.

           “Then why are you crying?” A soft hand comes to my cheek, his thumb brushes a tear away. After that I just completely broke down, like big ugly sobs, snot—everything. His hands shift, moving from my face and shoulder to caressing my head and holding my back.

           “I woke up late, then my train was late, but my boss said it was fine and wanted me to get her a coffee, and then I split it all over me. But this is the fifth time I’ve been late this month, and my supervisor said that if I was late one more time, I have to meet with her.” With a heaving chest and choked sobs, I managed to explain my short morning. Sinking further, I wrapped my arms around the kind man and just let it out. I probably shouldn’t have done that, but he was so warm, and I was so tired—sometimes you just need a hug.

           “That was my fault, I’m sorry.” He whispered into my hair, a hand running up and down my back. Slowly, I began to calm down, savoring the hug for a few more moments before I pulled away. I looked at his grey sweatshirt and saw dark marks from where my face was and the remnants of the coffee.

           “It’s okay, I’m sorry that I got tears and snot on your sweatshirt.” Dabbing at my tears to dry my face, I turned away, getting mascara on my sleeve—the sweater was already ruined so it couldn’t get any worse. I pulled myself from his arms sighing, I bent down to grab my phone (thankful undamaged) and texted my boss what happened. I turned to the counter to reorder, and the worker already has my order ready.

           “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” I begin to pull my wallet out to pay, but she was just shaking her head at me.

           “After what I just saw, you are fine. Don’t worry about it.” Her smile was kind. I went back up to the counter and put a couple of bills in the tip jar.

           “Thank you so much.” I turn back around and see the man still standing were I left him.

           “Hi, my name is Johnny. Can we start over again?”

Gilded adj.

           Being with Johnny was like being in a world of sunlight. Everything was filled with loud laughs, quiet whispers, longing glances, quick kisses, and loving touches. Of course, there were arguments and disagreements, we were a normal couple in a not so normal world. His job is demanding, long hours and weeks spent with the only kinds of communication are texts and FaceTime calls. At first, this arrangement was strange: dates spent at hole in the wall restaurants in a back-corner way from the other patrons; dinner and movies—at home; late (like 1 a.m.) walks in the park, and food from convenient stores. It was easy to get used to, and I get why it had to be that way. When your boyfriend is part of a world-known group, you can’t really go outside in broad daylight and be seen together—it would most likely ruin his career, and some of the fans go too far.

           I rolled over, a mess of blankets and sheet caught between us, and I just look at him. The sun streamed in through the curtains, filling the room with a warm glow. His hair turning a rich golden brown, the light doesn’t stop there, bathing his skin a shimmering yellow. The sight making me gasp, because in that moment, he looked ethereal—in that moment I knew I loved him.

           Soft breathes fell in the space between, I moved my hand and started tracing his face. Thick eyebrows, long lashes, strong nose, full lips, sharp jaw; this man looked like he was carved from the Gods themselves, and he was all mine.

           He groaned when I stopped my movements; arms moving, coming to pull me closer to his chest.

           “Morning.” Eyes still closed.

           “Morning.” Eyes opened, the brown catching the light and turned gold. I leaned in and placed a quick kiss to his lips, then tried to get up. But he wasn’t budging.

           “Where do you think you’re going?” He raised himself up on one arm, holding me with the other.

           “Bathroom.” He shook his head, I moved away again. Then he lifted himself up, arms coming to either side of me, only to lay himself on top of me, effectively stopping any attempts to start the day.

           “You’re not going anywhere.” His lips tickled my neck as he spoke. I sighed out and began to run my hands through his hair, and his breathing slowed. Shortly after, the snores started, and there was no way I was getting up for about an hour. I wrapped my arms around him and started to fall back to sleep.

           Perfect, it was perfect.

Hostile adj.

           It was a rare date night out, and I was brimming with excitement. Tonight, we went to our favorite restaurant then headed for a movie at my place. On the walk back to my apartment, something felt off. Footsteps and whispering followed every step of our own. I pulled my face mask higher up on my face as I looked around—to not cause suspicion. With a glance behind us, I saw a group of girls, and my heart sank. This was it; this is where the relationship ended; they were going to find out and tell everyone.

          See when you date a celebrity, there are rules because there are consequences. The fans of most groups are wonderful, the kindest people you will ever meet, but then there are a few that are not. These fans think that they are entitled to the artist: they stalk them; find their phone number, and call them constantly; they send death threats to anyone who gets close to their favorite artist—or worse to the artist themselves. To say I was scared would be an understatement.

           “John, there’s a group of girls behind us. They’ve been following us for a while.” I lean my head on his shoulder to not cause alarm.

           “John? Wha—Oh. Ok. Ah, let me think.” He became serious: eyebrows furrowed under his black cap; lips pursed behind his face mask. I don’t know how they found us; we were so careful.

          Steps grew closer, and I could hear some of what they were feverishly whispering about.

           “Do you think it’s him?”

           “It has to be. I mean, look at him.”

           “If it is him, who is that?”

           “I don’t know, but I think if I can get close enough I can—” With that they dared more steps, for every two we took, they took three. This was getting serious.

           “Ok, after we reach this corner, we are going to enter that store—see it? The bookstore? —then we are going to walk around inside until they follow us in, then after a few seconds we are going to leave, then make a break for it down the block. Sound like a plan?” It was a stupid plan, but it was the only one we had right now.

           “I guess, this better work.” My grip tightens on is arm, trying to ground myself in the situation.

           “Wait!” One of the girl’s screech behind me, I slightly turn my head to hear better.

           “—said that she spotted him on 1st and 3rd Street. Let’s go.” They all crossed the street and headed in down the block—away from us.

           “I think we are going to have to stop with the dates outside for a little while.” With a sigh, he nodded.

Lend v.

           It was a cool day, in October, and I forgot my jacket. Walking through the streets at night would have been fine if it were summer, but it wasn’t. I had been in such a hurry to get out of the apartment to meet up with him, that I just completely forgot to grab the jacket sitting on the hook by the door. I didn’t notice until I had made it to the restaurant.

           “Did you walk all the way here without a jacket?” I scooched my chair closer to the table, grabbing my glass to sip some water.

           “Uh, I forgot it to grab it when I left.” A chuckle falls from his mouth, his eyes curving to crescent moons, then he reached across the table to take my hand, his larger one encompassing my own.

           “You’re a freakin’ loser.” An often-used term of endearment. Eyes rolling, I squeezed his warm hand.

           “Takes one to know one.” His face breaks into a wide smile.

           The waiter came to take our order, and when he left, we just sat in each other’s gaze, content with the moment. The food came, bites were shared, and when the bill was paid, he offered to walk me home.

           With the moon rising higher in the sky, the temperatures dropped. Lights from shops, apartments, and streetlights created a world of color, drenching us in greens, blues, reds, and yellows. A gust of wind came from behind us, and in a moment of silence after—he dropped his jacket onto my shoulders. I laughed.

           “Thank you.” I looked at his profile, a strand of hair fell into his eyes, and he just left it. Lips were curved into a small smile—proud of the smoothness of the execution; a black turtleneck was the only thing shielding him from the weather, and from the looks of it, he was winning.

           “Always. Can’t have you freezing on me.”

           “I’m not going to freeze, Johnny.”

           “Not when I’m here, duh.”

           “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

           “I’m lucky you’re mine.” Not only was my body warm, but my face was too.

           He was smooth.

Loneliness adj.

           He was gone. Days had turned into weeks, and the bed had grown cold as nights were spent hoping for his return. Time seemed to move slower without him by my side; the sun and it’s jovial rays never seem to set, and when they do the moon and its frigid compassion surround me in an endless longing for the light. I know that I shouldn’t be acting like this, but he was my world.

           I made my way to the kitchen, the cold floors numbing my bare feet. The blanket wrapped over my frame providing little warmth. The rising sun casted an orange glow in the room. I slowly set my mug into the sink, washing the rings of coffee from the inside wall, my movements becoming sluggish as the world caught up with me.

           The lock beeps from the front door, gradually opening. Shuffling could be heard in the entryway: keys being placed on their hook, bags being set down, shoes being kicked onto the rug, and jackets being placed on the rack. Water running down the drain was the only thing that filled my ears—deaf, I was to the footsteps drawing closer. Mug in one hand and scrubber brush in the other, I gazed to the beginning of the day: lights flicking on room by room in the building across from me, people making their way of from their homes, cars starting to head towards their destination. Vibrations come from behind me as warm hands snake around my blanket, hands turning into arms and a chest pressed into my back. It does not shake me from my trace, still I gazed out the window—until warm lips press onto the top of my head. By the time I had set down the mug and scrubber, I was turned around, facing him. As I looked into his eyes, my own began filling with tears. Like the play button had been pressed, my hands shot out to grab his arms, pulling him closer.

           “You’re back?” uncertainty filling the room.

           “I’m back.”

           My world had returned. He pulled me from the sink, taking one of my hands and his other sliding to my back, he begun to sway. There we stood, dancing in the kitchen at 6 in the morning—revolving around each other, for we were the centers of our universe.

Nervous adj.

           The energy in the venue was high, everything was buzzing: the lights, the speaker, the crowd, and my heart. This was the first time that I saw Johnny’s group in person, I’ve seen concert videos, fan-cams, and their online concerts, but never in real life. He has been on tour for two months—which is a long time to only talk through FaceTime and texts, but it was well worth the wait. I managed to get tickets to their last show, shortly after followed plane tickets and a hotel reservation.

           The beginning of my day was spent sleeping in to get rid of the jet lag, once I was up and ready, I headed to the venue; the concert may start at 8 p.m., but you also have to get there early so you can get fan-made stuff and merch. I arrived at 4 p.m., and began to wait, making friends along the way, excitedly talking with them about the members, songs, moments, and theories for the next comeback.

           I made it to my seat, light stick, and fan banner in hand as I pulled my phone out to text him good luck—as I did for every concert. I went on Twitter to see that the concert was trending, a smile on my lips as I liked the groups’ pre-concert posts. The fan sitting next to me saw my fan banner.

           “Ooh, you like Johnny?” Their eyes sparkling in the bright fluorescent lights overhead.

           “Yeah, as much as I love them all, he’s my favorite. Who’s you’re favorite?”

           “Haechan, he’s so cute. But I also love all of them members too.” After that we got more friendly, names were swapped, and then we started talking about everything about the group. As time for the concert began grew closer the more my heart began to race, my palms became sweaty, and my stomach was in knots. Soon the lights dimmed, and the crowd thrummed with energy, light sticks turning on and the space changed into a green ocean.

           The screens on the stage flickered to life, beginning the VCR introduction. The lights flashed and there he was in all his glory, standing before me. The music played and the members came to life, moving as one before the crowd.

But he always stood out to me.

Smitten v.

              He had seen me during the concert and had someone come get me when it finished. Going through some ‘STAFF ONLY’ doors, and many turns later, I was in the dressing room waiting for the guys to finish going over the concert.

           Sitting, on my phone, still going through the concert tag on Twitter, I heard them coming from a mile away with their excited yells and laughs. The door opens and they all flood into the room, the sound following them in. He was the last one, of course. Eyes scanning the room, going from person to person trying to find something, someone—me.

           When our eyes met, it was as if the world going on around us had melted away, it was only him and me. It was perfect. Slowly, I rose from my seat and started to make my way to him, he was pushing through the people blocking us. When we got to the middle, he slowly, but surely, wrapped his arms around me. It was warm and whole, and I accepted it—eagerly. I buried my face into his chest—slightly heaving from the two-hour long concert, the sweat was felt on my cheek— and I smiled into it.

           “Hi, I missed you.” Quiet, we were, afraid that this moment could end in the next breath.

           “I missed you too.”  He kissed the top of my head, then rested his cheek there, I wanted him to stay there forever. But our reunion was stopped when the others joined in on the hug—turning into a dog-pile. I let it happen for a little while, but then it started to get hot, and they were all sweaty—so, so sweaty.

           “Guys…I can’t breathe anymore.”

           “You let Johnny hug you, so why can’t we.” Mark said from somewhere from the outside of the pile.

           “Because he’s my boyfriend, and ya’ll are gross and sweaty.” I squirm in Johnny’s arms, but none of them budged. “I’m going to die in here, aren’t I?” I whisper.

           “Probably, but at least I’ll die with you.” He whispers back.

           “No, you’re not, you Giraffe. You get fresh air and everything, while I’m down here in the depths of gross boy stank.” I resorted to whining, I’m not proud but I needed out of my prison.

           “Guys, you heard them, give ‘em some space. They’re right, you do stink.” He started pushing them away, chuckling.

           “Is that better, Baby?” He brushed my hair out of my face when I looked up at him.

           “Yes, Handsome. I can only handle one stinky boy right now.” His hug became crushing as he lifted me a few inches off the ground that left me squealing.

           “Stinky?!” Eyes wide. “I’m stinky?” He asked, voice raising a few decibels.

           “Big time.” Then, my life flashed before my eyes as he starts to rub his head all over my face. Gagging, I push his nasty ass away from me, but with his grip around me, he wasn’t going anywhere. A hidden smile on my face turns into a frown when he lifts his head up to look at me.

           “You’re gross. I don’t want to hug you anymore.” I push again, but that only encourages him. His hands shift from my back to my sides, then he starts to wiggle them over the covered skin.

           “Stop it! No, Johnny! Stop!” Forced laughs escaped as tears start to run down my face.

           “Then, take it back! Say you want to hug me!” He wasn’t letting up, if anything, he was picking up the pace.

           “Never! I told you that I don’t want to hug stinky boys!” My chest began to rise and fall at a rapid speed, air rushed into my lungs only for it to be ripped back out. There was no end in sight as one of his hands grasped my side to stop me from trying to twist out of his attack.

           “I’m not stopping until you say it AND give me a kiss!” A huge smile and crescent eyes are all I saw as he brought his face closer to mine, smile slinking into a smirk. “Be good, and listen, Baby.” Time to bring in the big guns.

           “Jaehyun! Help me! Please!” I whip my head around to not only look for my hopeful savior, but to hide my flushed cheeks from his comment. As fast as I called his name, two more arms wrapped around me, and pulled me from Johnny’s ruthless hold. I push off from Jaehyun; finally, away from the constant contact, I slowed my breathing down. Smoothing my hair down and running my sweaty hands down the front of my jeans, I stood up straight and looked at Johnny.

           “That was mean.” Lips: full on pout mode, Eyes: puppy dog mode engaged, Arms: crossed over one another. I was the picture-perfect example of how to get an apology. With his jaw dropped and eyes wide, Johnny was the perfect example of forming an apology.

           “Mean?! You said that you didn’t want to hug me anymore!” True.

           “But I was just joking. You didn’t have to rub your sweaty head on me, then tickle me.” Jaw snapped close, and eyes turning into soft brown ones, we were at a standstill. The others were lightly laughing at the scene going on in front of them, one seen many times before, but always with a different victor.

           “You hurt my feelings.” One step closer.

           “You hurt my nose and lungs” One step.

           “You were mean.” One step.

           “You were meaner.” Last step. We met in another hug; the winner was obvious.

           “God, they’re so whipped for each other.” Mark whisper to Jaehyun with an eye roll.

Telephone n.

           “I love you.”

           “I love you more.”

           “Not possible.”

           “I think it is, Johnny. I love you so much more than you love me. You fill up, like, 54% of my heart.” With a slight nod, I won this time.

           “Only 54%? Are you loving other people on the side?” A dramatic gasp and a flared hand placed on his chest caused me to laugh.

           “Of course, Loser. The rest of the boys take up about 6%, My mom has 10%, Ms. Jenkins and her cat has 7%, and I have the other 23% saved for a rainy day.” My cheeks began to hurt from smiling so much; one thing that I love about him is that no matter what, he can always make me smile.

           “Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret, Baby.” I slightly leaned forward, even though it did little to minimize the actual distance between us. My breath caught, as I strained my ears to hear him as he whispered.

           “I love you, 3000.” My face dropped, a chuckle bubbled out, turning into a laugh, then into a cackle, and finally, I was in bed with tears streaming down my face and I couldn’t catch my breath. Once I finally calm down, I looked at him with a serious face.

           “You are the love of my life.”

           “And you are the love of mine.”

           “I miss you.” Sigh.

           “I’ll be home soon.”

           “You’ll always come back, right? Back home? Back to me?”

           “Always.”

           That night, neither one of us hung up, content to still in a comfortable silence until he fell asleep. Then I soon followed, the sound of his breathing lulling me to sleep with one word on my mind.

           Always.

Voyage n.

           I watched the sun sink beneath the tall buildings. The sky had been graying all day and with the dark clouds rolling in, all the signs pointed to a storm.

           But there was going to be more than one storm tonight.

           Hours over the stove, wasted as the meal sits in the oven waiting to be eaten. Slowly, they lose their heat, mine steadily rose. The cars filter through the street below, reds, blues, blacks, but not the car I was waiting for. The rain falling on the street, coloring it dark; the hum of electricity fresh in the air as a flash of lightening lit up my face in the window. I looked around my dark apartment and felt empty. With a huff, I head to the bathroom, limbs stiff from sitting folded up on the couch, waiting. I looked at the mirror, sighed, turned, and left. Walking through the dark apartment, I heard thunder booming overhead, followed by a crack of lightening, brightening the room for a second, before being shrouded again.

           Four times. Now, five times, he had missed our date. There was no text, no call, no note. Nothing, there was nothing.

There was one thing: loneness.

There were two things: loneness and anger. Two things that don’t work well together. One eats at the mind, and the other eats at the soul.

           Hours passed, and I was still alone, sitting on the couch. Still waiting. That’s what this relationship was, waiting: waiting up for him to come back after practice, waiting for him to come home after months of being away, waiting for him to show up to dates, waiting for love. That was the hardest part, the love. Being away from each other as often as we are, you don’t feel loved—I don’t feel loved. Nights spent lying in bed waiting for him to hold me. Days spent waiting for any sign of life on his end. And the in between spent always waiting.

           It was a moonless night because of the storm, still pounding away. They say thunderstorms are caused by the Greek God, Zeus, king of the sky, when he’s angry. How I shared his rage tonight. How I wanted to scream at him, but no sound came out. Nothing came out. The door beeped, then opened; shoes kicked to the floor, and keys hung up on the rack. A sigh fell from the doorway. I looked at my watch, the glow threw shadows around the living room as it read: 11:23 p.m. Steps heard, a light clicked on, a name is called—my name. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

           My named echoed through the apartment, he wondered into the living room—light still off.

           “Baby, what are you doing sitting in the dark?” A chuckle falls from his lips, a sigh from mine.

           “Waiting.” My mouth too dry to put power behind it, so it came out as a whisper.

           “What?” He made his way closer to me, only halfway to the couch I was curled on.

           “Waiting.” It was a little louder this time.

           “Honey, speak up. You’re whispering.” He was almost in front of me know, I could smell his sweat mixing with his deodorant.

           “WAITING! I SAID I WAS WAITING FOR YOU!” A crash of thunder boomed in time with my declaration. He stood, staring at me like I had grown another head.

           “I’m sorry.” With my chest heaving, I pulled myself off the couch, making my way to leave the room to cool down. I passed him and he grabbed my arm, halting me. I turned to face him, his eyes moving quickly over me—searching for the reason of my outburst. A crack of lightening spilt the sky and lit his brown eyes that were wide with worry.

           “W-What’s wrong? What happened, Angel?” He grasped my hands and held them in between us. I scoffed, head shaking. Did he really forget? Something so important—a date—and he doesn’t even know what he did wrong? I let it go the first few times, but this—this tipped the scales.

           “You forgot.” I spoke, words filled with a venom that I could feel the burning at my tongue and throat, itching to get out. I stared at our connected hands, frustration filling me up, I could see it collect in the corner of my eyes. The wind started to slam against the windows, as another clap of thunder sounded.

            “Oh, Sweetheart. I am so sorry. I got hel—”

           “You got held up at practice.” I laughed, because of course he did. He always did. I was beginning to feel hot; I dropped his hands and crossed mine. He reached out for me, but I stepped away—needing space.

           “Darling—”

           “Stop with the nicknames, Johnny! Stop trying to defuse the situation!” I paced around the living room—still in the dark—trying to ease the anger. Johnny walked away to turn the light on; the room bathed in a hue of gold. He was wearing those sweatpants that fit him just right, and a black long sleeve; a tired look on his face, but his eyes were guarded—trying to read my fire-filled ones.  

           “There is no situation, I don’t see why it is such a big deal if I miss a date.” Annoyed—that’s what he was, he was annoyed with me. But the feelings I had, were worse.

“Oh? So, that’s how you feel about it? You don’t care about our dates? The only thing you seem to care about is work.” My back was turned, I didn’t want him to see me cry.

           “Are you fucking kidding me? The only—Wow. What is wrong with you?!” The level of his voice was rising—so was mine.

           “What’s wrong with me?! You have missed five dates, Johnny!” I turned around in time to see his eyes rolling. “No calls, no text, no heads up! I would have been fine, but I stood for hours over the stove cooking your favorite meal! I had set the table all nice, I got your favorite wine, your favorite candles, and your favorite music! But you just didn’t show up—too busy dancing with your friends—leaving me alone!” Hands thrown up in the air, I moved into a corner of the room.

           “Do you want to know what you sound like right now? You sound like a brat.” The word being spat out of his mouth. “You think I’m just singing and dancing all day?! I am working my ass off to make people happy! I work all day, and I just want to come home and sleep!” There it was, the guilt, beginning to build in my gut. “You knew what you signed up for going into this relationship, you knew that things weren’t going to be easy! But here you are, whining like a little bitch because I missed some dates!” The storm outside matched the storm inside, the loud rage was inescapable.

           “What did you just call me? A Bitch? I—Ok.” I ran my hands through my hair, I was boiling now, nothing was going to stop the war he just laid out. “I do know what I signed up for! But when you’re in a relationship, things go both ways, Johnny! I don’t think you recognize that! When was the last time you planned a date? When was the last time you went out of your way to do something nice? When was the last time you showed me you cared? I don’t remember, and after all of this, I doubt you do.”

           “Are we serious arguing over this?”

           “Don’t change the subject!”

           “We are seriously fighting over a date?! A DATE?!”

           “ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!” The windows rattled from the thunderous boom. The storm or the shout? That is something that will be unknown for the rest of time.

           “What is this really about? Are you jealous? Are you jealous at the fact that I do something I love? Are you jealous because you work a meaningless desk job?” My mouth dropped. One of my biggest regrets was not pursuing what I wanted to in college, I did what my parents wanted and that was shared in secret with him. Late night talks, quiet whispers so no one in the world could hear our confessions.

           “I can’t believe that’s what you think this is about! I know you love your job! I love seeing you happy because of it! I-I just can’t keep this up.” Tiredness just rolled over me as I was sitting down on the couch, and holding my head in my hands. The storm still raging outside.

           “This?” He sneered.

           “This! You! Coming here late every time you stay over! Dates spent here, your place, or some random restaurant at 10 at night! Not seeing you for weeks at a time! You’re never here anymore, Johnny! There’s always some excuse as to why you can’t come over. And sometimes there’s nothing at all!” The rain on the windows matched the tears on my face. “I’M SO LONELY, AND YOU DON’T EVEN CARE!” My chest heaves for a different reason as sobs echoed through the apartment. I spared a glance at him, the anger was gone, replaced with realization and sadness. His hands shook, eyes searching around the room, mouth slightly open, trying to find something—anything—to say. But the damage was done.

           An eternity had passed, but only mere minutes had. One question weighed on my mine. One that needed to be said. One that could change everything.

           “Do you even want this anymore?” My eyes shut, waiting for his response. But none came. When I opened them, he was standing in the doorway, mouth open, eyes frantic. With a sigh, I rose from the couch and headed to the door. I walked by him and when he didn’t say anything, I scoffed. I slipped my shoes on and unlocked the door.

           “Wh-Where are you going?” He sounded so small. My baby—no, not anymore. He may not have answered the question, but his silence did.

           “I don’t know.” It was like I took a backseat to the situation and I was now only watching it.

           “When are you coming back?” Opening the door was the easiest and hardest thing I had done all night.

           “I don’t know.”

           “I’m sorry.” I hummed in response, slipping out the door.

           I don’t know how long I walked for, but the moment I had stepped outside, I was soaked by the rain and guilt. It wasn’t cold though; it was surprisingly warm. I had shut my phone off after Johnny had left his 6th voicemail. I want to be alone, but my thoughts kept me company. The mind likes to bring up memories, I found, after a something like this. Mornings spent waking up to breakfast in bed with a loving kiss in between bites, soft pouts led to a forkful of food, and warm gazes fueled breakfast being forgotten for a little while. Beautiful flowers placed on my desk at work, with a dorky note attached to it; doorbells rang with deliveries of even more flowers when he was gone for months at a time. Date nights that came to an end with a slow dance in the living room as music circled us from some random playlist on his phone in his pocket, after a while, hands, and lips begin to wander, one pulling the other down the hall to the bedroom. Late nights shared in bed, hair slighted messed, hands tracing shapes onto skin, lips moving in hushed whispers, and eyes full of love. Sleepless, nightmare filled nights, glasses of water at my beckoned call, hugs were endless, and a soft voice always lulling me back to sleep.

           As I sat on the curb of some random street, crying, these memories showed me that he did care. Love is shown and spoken in different ways, and I was so focused on the verbal, rather than the actions. God, I was so stupid. Last week, he had made me lunch for work, he even took the time to cut the fruits into hearts.

           I raised my head up and looked towards the sky, rain hitting me in the face. I sighed, then reached into my pocket, and tried to turn on my phone, but a black screen stared back at me. This night couldn’t possibly even get worse. So, I stood up and tried to find a street sign to figure out where in the hell I was. I spotted one above a bookstore and figured that I was about a 30-minute walk away from my apartment. From the love of my life. Walking in soaking wet clothes and shoes in the rain is very much uncomfortable, but it had to be done to get back to my life.

           Street after street I grew closer, after some wrong turns and a very nice lady who gave me directions, I was almost home. As I waited at a crosswalk, I heard something being called from across the street. But I ignored it, it was most likely nothing, just a random noise from the city. When the light changed, I heard it again, this time sounding like my name, growing louder. I made it across the street when I heard it clearly, this time I looked to where the sound was coming from. Combing the streets, I saw brown hair, a black long-sleeve, and track pants that fit just right. I started down the sidewalk, tears forming in my eyes, and a smile on my face. His back was to me when I met him, so I ran into him at full force engulfing him in a hug, starting to sob.

           “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I was dumb and I know you love me.” He turned in my arms and wrapped his own around me. I looked up, his hair was wet, and his shirt was soaked. Tears fall down his face, his eyes sparkling. I raised a hand to his cheek, he pressed into the warmth, and I wiped away a tear, only for it to be replaced by the rain.

           “I’m so, so sorry, Johnny.” He took my hand and kissed my palm. “I-I was being selfish and I didn’t see all that you did for me. Can you forgive me?”

           “Always, Baby. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved, because I love you so much, and my heart broke when you said that.” He dropped his head into my neck as his shoulders shook with tears, his hands gripping the back of my shirt like I was going to disappear from his hold. “I let you down, you didn’t feel loved when all you were doing was giving me love. I wasn’t doing-I wasn’t being enough for you. I’m sorry.” He broke down, he’s sobs echoing into the night. We stayed like that, in the rain, until he started to hiccup, my hands soothing up and down his back when he calmed down. I took his face back into my hands and raised him so he could face me.

           “Look at me, Handsome. Please look at me.” When he opened his eyes, they were sparkling and red. I brushed his wet hair out of his face and put a smile on mine.

           “Johnny, you are enough for me. Mornings with breakfast in bed, surprise flowers when you’re away, lunches when your home, dances in the living room. You show me your love, and I appreciate everything you do for me.” I reach up to place kisses all over his face, making sure to cover every inch, I wanted him to feel my love.

           Here we stood, in the rain, in the middle of the city, staring into each other’s eyes. His hand raises up to hold my face, and I hold my breath. He leans in, slowly I close the gap. I melt into him; his lips were soft against mine—there was no rush. We broke apart, with rain falling onto us, I break away from his arms, grabbed his hand and walked towards the apartment. In the light of the city, hand in hand, we felt the love for each other again—in that moment he became my everything, and I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Wander v.

           The night was full of life during the walk we took in through the city. Lights glowing, shinning onto his beautiful face; with our hands entwined we made our way to some unknown destination. Papaya Acres Café. I laughed as I saw the café.

           “Do you remember that day? The one where we met? I was a mess; I was surprised that you even had the balls to ask me out on a date after I rubbed my snot into your sweatshirt.” In the moment, it was probably one of the most embarrassing times of my life. Now, it is a funny memory that gets laughs when we tell people how we met.

           “Of course, I did! It’s not every day you bump into an angel and make them cry, so I had to do something to make you smile again.” His hand squeezed mine as we entered the café, the bell chimed as he held the door open.

           “Why, thank you, kind sir.” A curtsy.

           “The pleasure is mine, my lady.” A bow. Followed by giggles.

           “Welcome to Papaya Acres. What can I get for you?”

           “Handsome, I’m going to the bathroom. Order for me?” With a nod, I turned and went into the bathroom. Soft jazz played through the green tiled room as I entered a stall. I wrung my hands into a paper towel and headed back into the café. Johnny was sitting at a table near the pick-up counter. My chaired squeaked when I pulled it back; wincing, I sat down.

           “I missed you.” His lips pouted, face sitting in his hands, eyes soft.

           “I was gone for like three minutes, Loser.” I laughed out.

           “I always miss you when you aren’t around.” I pulled one of his hands from his face and held it in my own, comparing the size difference. I hummed as I laced our fingers together.

           “I missed you too.” A playful smile appeared on my lips.

           “Here is your order.” I looked over and saw three cups? Huh, that’s weird. Maybe Johnny wanted to try a new drink or something.

           “Thank you. Have a good night.” He got up to pick up the drink tray, and I waited for him in the middle of the café. My hand got cold when he passed me my drink—I drink iced coffee, no matter the seasons—and his were now full with his two drinks. Putting my drink near his face, he took a sip from the yellow straw, humming in delight when he pulled away.

           “You got two drinks? What kind did you get?” When he told me, neither of which was something that I was going to try; when one of us orders something, the other automatically gets to have a taste of it, it’s a rule we made after many meals were pouted over because no one would share.

           Walking through the park down the street from the café, arms bumping as our laughs reverberated on the trees and buildings around us.

           “My dad knew I liked beans. So, he was like playing with beans. Then he dropped it, and then he dropped a rock. And then it slid, and then hot water started falling. And then, coffee.”

           “You actually think I believe that? Johnny, I’m not Mark.” I chuckled.

           “Hey, don’t be mean to Mark.” He chuckled back. He walked over to a trash can and tossed mine and the cup he had been nursing away, leaving the untouched cup in his grasp. He, now having a free hand, connected in the middle, brought our clasped hands to his face and placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles, his fingers running over my ring finger—something he had only started doing recently, but I paid no mind. I looked at his face, and he wore a serious expression—his thinking face: eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed.

           “What are you thinking about, my love?” My free hand brushing away some hair that had fallen into his eyes. He sighed; a small smile played on his lips.

           “I was thinking about how it would look if you had a ring right here.” He pressed on my ring finger. I laughed with a smile. He looked at me with wide eyes; I looked at the cup in his hand, he was shaking.

           “Johnny? Honey, you’re shaking. Are you ok?” My hands cupping his face now, I searched for the reason for his sudden nerves. His eyes snap to mine as he takes my hands off his face, and he steps away. My heart is now in my throat, as my mind races to find out what was causing his anxiety. My hand, acting on its own, reaches out for him, but he only laughs with his head down.

           “You are truly something different, you know? You are the reason I get out of bed now; there are days when I don’t want to go to work, days were I just want to give up, but then there you are with your cute little texts, cheering me on, notes left from the last time you were at the dorm. When practice runs long and I can’t give anymore, you pop into my head, and then I remember that tonight you are waiting for me to come home—so I push ten times harder.” He cleared his throat, and shook the cup in his hands, a dull rattle followed. He swallowed. “I know it isn’t easy being in a relationship with me, the dates, the secrecy, but you are always there.” He brought his hand up to push away hair that wasn’t there. “God, this is hard.” He whispered, his hand moving to run down his face.

           “What’s hard?” He looks at me. He shook the cup again; the same rattle came from within it.

           “I want you to be there.”

           “What? I’m right here, Baby.” Now it was my turn to furrow my brows—in confusion.

           “I want you to be with me. For as long as you’ll let me. I want to grow old with you; have kids, have a family—maybe a dog. I want to dance with you in our home when we have gray hair and wrinkles.” I get it now. He chuckles. “You are so beautiful, and I just want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to make breakfast with you, I want to go grocery shopping with you, I want to do puzzles with you—”

           “I hate puzzles, Loser.”

           “That’s beside the point, don’t interrupt—it’s rude. Where was I?” The rattle started again.

           “You were listing things you wanted to do with me.”

           “Oh, thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I want to sit with you in the living room and just spend the day reading, I want to take you out and have photoshoots that I can post for everyone to see. I want you, Baby. I’ve never wanted anything so much.” I smile and move to close the distance.

            “Johnny Suh, are you asking me to marry you?” A rattle.

            “Well, duh. But now you ruined it.” He whined.

            “I didn’t ruin anything. Now, go ahead and ask me. Should I practice my surprised face first? Hold on, I need to warm up.” I started pulling faces with different sound effects and hand motions. He let out a long whine and stamped his feet a little.

           “Stop,” He drug out, “This is serious.” I cleared my throat, wiped my hands on my legs, and pushed my hair out of my face.

           “Of course,” Serious face, “Continue.”

           “I love you with my whole heart, you never stop running through my mind, you are magnetic. And I can’t help but to be draw to you.” He popped the lid on the coffee cup and stuck his hand in, pulling something into his fist. Then he got down on one knee. “My love. Will you marry me?”

           Remember when I said I don’t cry in public? Not only has this man made me a liar not once, or twice, but now three times. I guess, you could say that I wanted to make him sweat a little bit.

           “Let me see…” I tapped a finger on my chin as I began to walk around him. Adding to the act, I hummed and muttered, nodding, and shaking my head. When I got in front of him, I covered his hands in mine and stared into his eyes.

           “Of course.” I whispered. He jumped up, picked me up and spun me around. When he set me down, he took my hand and slipped the ring onto my finger. He kissed the ring, then me. There we were, in the park at 10 p.m., with our love in the air.

           “I love you.” Were the words we whispered for the rest of our lives.

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Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!

I could possibly be interested in writing more of these if you guys like, doesn’t matter the length, member, or group. Just send in a word or words, member/group, and if you want it angsty or fluffly!

Thank you again!

[thedeviltohisangel]

How The Night Changes//11//Piece By Piece

Duncan & Olivia’s one year anniversary.

Smut Warning

more of dunc & liv at the masterlist link in my bio!

send any thoughts, questions, requests for future parts my way!

The date on the calendar had a heart around it. Olivia caught herself staring at it whenever she was bored in a meeting or zoning out at her desk. On particularly bad days, she’d trace the shape over and over again until it bled through the paper. A bleeding heart. The imagery was funny to her.

“What’s happening on March 11?” Olivia dropped her pen in surprise as the voice of Hannah, one of her coworkers, appeared from behind her.

“Oh, nothing. Just doodling on my calendar.” She snapped the leather planner shut quickly and smiled as sincerely as possible at the woman.

“Well the heart made it seem important. Got a date?” This was made Olivia remember was she missed most about her dancing career. None of them really tried to pry into her life. They knew whether or not they were friends outside of the company and, if they were, they brought up questions like this to her when they were on personal time. Not at her cube in the middle of the work day.

“Nope. I’m still discovering myself, Hannah. Don’t have the capacity for a relationship at the moment.” The former was true. After suffering an ankle injury, Olivia had to give up professional dancing. It had been difficult so far to figure out who she was without ballet. It had been the prevailing feature of her life for so long. Then one day it just wasn’t and her mother had forced her to work at a lobbying firm. She was beyond unhappy. The latter part was false. Her relationship with Duncan was thriving. They were happy and in love and she wished she could spend every waking moment with him. Unfortunately, the fact that their relationship was still a secret got in the way of that.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“I’m sorry?” Olivia was not only confused but also concerned. Had she let something slip out about her and Duncan?

“You blush and giggle at your phone all the time. You leave the office at 4:59 every day like you have somewhere urgent to be. I see the emergency toiletry bag you have in your desk...not only do I think you’re dating someone, I think you’re spending the night with them.” Olivia slowly blinked at Hannah for a few seconds once she finished her rant. If it was any other relationship, Olivia might have found it impressive. But this wasn’t a normal relationship. It was Duncan. The man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Therefore, she found in predatory and creepy.

“Stalking the President’s daughter is not funny,” she deadpanned right back to her. Olivia hating laying claim to her mother but she used the trump card when she absolutely had to. To protect Duncan, she would do anything. It worked well enough, Hannah rolling her eyes and stalking away. Olivia turned back to her computer with a relieved sigh and then a groan as the clock read 4:53. She still had six minutes left in this hell hole. Duncan had promised he’d cook for her that night. Promised she would actually leave his office at a normal time in order to do so. Olivia was desperately hoping he was able to keep that promise but it was rare that he did. Last time he had strolled in two hours late with bags of takeout. It was in the moments when she was missing him that she considered going public. Then they could meet for lunch or coffee or she could just swing by his office because she was craving a kiss. But the life of politics prevented her from doing that. The donut-shaped paper weight that he had gotten her caught her eye. “One day, little donut, one day.”

----

Olivia knew this was going to happen. That getting her hopes up for Duncan to be home early was fruitless and dangerous. She sat at his kitchen table with two place settings and two glasses of wine. Hers was empty now and the candles had been blown out an hour ago. Tears were burning at the back of her eyes. Did she deserve this? Was this what the rest of her life was going to look like? Sitting alone in a dark house just waiting for him to come home? No. She deserved better. Her heart had just settled on the idea that she should head home when she heard keys in the door. Duncan was whistling as he kicked off his Burberry loafers and threw his keys into the bowl by the door.

“Oh shit!” he yelled as he turned on the light in his kitchen and saw Olivia sitting there. “Jesus, babe, you scared me.” Part of him was exhilarated though. He had only recently given Olivia her own key to his place and having her be the first thing he saw when he got home was exciting. Duncan leaned down to kiss her but she turned her face so he got her cheek instead.

“Do you even remember what tonight was supposed to be?” She had been expecting him to profusely apologize to her as soon as he came in the door. Instead, he had been surprised she was there. That worried her.

“Sorry, bubby, I don’t.” He figured it was best to just be honest with her. That way they could work through only one thing he did wrong, forget, rather than two things he did wrong, forget and then lie about it. She nodded with a sad laugh and stood up, collecting the dishes and silverware she had laid out in order to put them back where they belonged.

“We were supposed to celebrate our anniversary tonight. Since you have to go to Mexico when we were supposed to go to Malibu.” The trip had been one of the many gifts he had gotten her for her birthday. A secret getaway to celebrate their first official year together. She had been looking forward to it. A chance to be away from the magnifying glass of DC. A chance to be a normal girl in love. But then business had come up, the way it always seemed to with Duncan recently.

“Fuck.” Duncan squeezed his eyes closed and rested his forehead against his island. He remembered now. When he told her about the conflict in dates with his trip to Mexico, she had been absolutely devastated. He had promised they would pick a night to celebrate and make it special. He had told her he’d leave work early to spend the whole weekend with her. Had said he’d make her that roast chicken she had really enjoyed. He was an absolute fuck up. “I’m sorry. That airline safety report came out today and my mom-”

“I kind of don’t care. Don’t want to listen to you apologize or tell me reasons. Tonight was just in the back of your mind. Something more important shoved it back there.” Olivia finished wiping down her wine glass, resting it in his drying rack and beginning to walk towards the front door. She wasn’t going to stand in his kitchen and feel unimportant. She had better things to do on a Friday night like order more sushi than she could actually fit in her stomach and watch NCIS on Netflix.

“You know I didn’t intentionally forget about tonight. Celebrating you and our relationship and how in love with you I am is very important to me. I promise.”

“Okay.” She didn’t want to argue with him. She didn’t want to show how hurt she was. She just wanted to go home and cry and question her existence in peace.

“Okay? Okay? Liv, don’t be all passive aggressive and petty about this. If me missing one dinner makes you think I don’t care about you or love you then-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Duncan Shepherd, unless you really want what you were about to say.” He clamped his mouth shut. “It’s not about missing dinner. It’s about me missing you. Me wanting to spend time with you. And we can only spend time together when we are hidden away for these little moments. They mean so much to me and tonight hurts.” She slid her Aquazurras back on and left his home before he could even respond. Walking away from an argument wasn’t the right thing to do and she knew that. But she wasn’t able to stand looking at him. The evil part her brain telling her that it was clear she cared more about their relationship than he did. Sometimes it was best for her to be alone when the negativity crept in so she didn’t lash out the same way she had in Paris. The thought of looking at her pink heart around their anniversary date made her sick. Maybe she needed a new planner.

----

The banging on her front door was making her head pound. She had cried herself to sleep after bingeing on sushi and NCIS, like she had planned, and was looking forward to spending the next 48 hours in bed.

“Henry!” she called out to the head of her protection detail. Normally he was in charge of opening her door and screening whoever was on the other side. Olivia was assuming it was her mother. Only close friends and Clare Underwood got close enough to knock on her door.

“It’s me, Liv.” That was not her mother’s voice. That was Duncan’s voice. “I’m not here to grovel, I promise. I just want to talk.” She contemplated letting him in or not. She did miss his stubbly face. Olivia rolled out of bed and shrugged on a bathrobe before opening the door for her boyfriend. The Gucci duffle bag at his feet catching her eye immediately.

“What’s that for?”

“We’re going to Malibu. The jet is fueled up and just waiting for us to get on it.”

“Where is this coming from?” She was stunned. This was the last outcome that she could have anticipated.

“I heard what you said last night. And what you were holding back from saying. I need to make more of an effort to put work on the back burner. We have such an amazing future ahead of us and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. I’m sending someone else to Mexico. Let’s go to Malibu and celebrate us and the best year of my life and maybe never come back.” Olivia stepped forward with a small smile, intertwining her fingers with his.

“You mean that? You want a future with me?”

“I owe you like five kids if I remember correctly and a bomb ass proposal so...yeah. I want the rest of my life with you, Olivia.”

“Then let’s go to fucking Malibu!”

----

Duncan had apparently been planning this trip for a lot longer than he had let on. It was a secluded mansion with a private beach that he had been renovating for the past few years. It was initially going to be a bachelor pad of sorts for him. A place to escape the bubble of DC and hideaway with friends or some pretty girls. But then he had fallen into his relationship with Olivia. They had made their pact to keep it secret until the time was right. Then he decided that the house could become a fortress. He changed the blueprints abruptly and made it a high tech security masterpiece. Henry had flown out on numerous occasions to check on the progress and make sure it was to the highest of Secret Service standards. Duncan had blocked off the beach for miles so no one could even come near the structure and had built a near forest around the back of the property to keep from prying eyes on both directions. It was a work of art and it was all for her. For their future together.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she said in awe as Duncan finished giving her the grand tour.

“It’s still not completely done. I’m putting an addition on for some extra bedrooms cause this could be a nice vacation home for us once we have a family, I think.” Talking about marriage and kids with Olivia was not some stress induced, anxiety ridden topic anymore. It was an obvious checkpoint in Duncan’s life plan now. Have a family with Olivia.

“You talking about our future together makes me wet!” she groaned as she placed her champagne flute down and hugged him against her. “Though I am still a little upset about last night.” The impromptu trip to Malibu had done some work in easing her annoyance but it wasn’t something she wanted to just brush aside and never speak of again. Mature couples broached their issues like adults and worked through them. Hopefully, her and Duncan were a mature couple.

“I know. It was wrong of me to put business before you, even unintentionally. Our life together and our future life together mean so much to me. I was hoping this trip and this house at least start me down the path of a good apology.”

“They do. I love you.” How could she not forgive him when he was talking about kids and vacation homes? Olivia had always been a planner and that meant her future too. Duncan was a crystal clear image when she looked forward. It was thrilling to know that he saw her too.

“I love you too. Now. Let’s go look at that private beach I was mentioning…”

----

Olivia had never felt more rested than she did when she woke up the following morning. The bed was soft and warm and Duncan was wrapped around her like they were always meant to be. Everything felt slower in California. In this little corner of the world that Duncan had put aside for her. For them. They hadn’t needed to rush through dinner. Hadn’t stopped in the middle of kissing on the couch afterwards to answer a phone call. Hadn’t heard a single honking horn or helicopter the whole night. It had been the most at peace Olivia had been in awhile. And it was all thanks to the man lying beside her.

“You hungry for breakfast, my little love?” His skin was tacky as his chest pressed against her back, residual from their romp in bed last night.

“Kind of,” she murmured back as she curled up further into a ball. Olivia didn’t think anything could entice out of bed in that moment. Nothing was worth leaving the cocoon of love they had created. She closed her eyes again as he pressed kisses to her shoulder blades, leaning over to also place his love to the side of her neck.

“I’m also kind of hungry,” he replied as his stomach rumbled. With a deep sigh, Olivia rolled over so she was facing him and pulled him in for a proper good morning kiss on the lips. Long gone were the days of either of them fretting about morning breath. Olivia used to set an alarm in order to wake up and brush her teeth before Duncan did so she wouldn’t embarrass herself. Now she realized he didn't care. It was more important for him to kiss her and love on her first thing in the morning than it was for her to brush her teeth. There was something beautiful about the acceptance and domesticity of it all.

“Roll over,” she whispered as they slowly pulled apart from their kiss. He did as he was told, lying on his back and watching with a smirk as Olivia straddled his stomach and began to slowly move towards her final destination of his face.

“I like where this is going.” His hands landed on the side of her thighs and helped guide her into the perfect position so her delicious core was hovering over his lips. “What a beautiful little treat.” There had been a time when Olivia was too self conscious to sit on Duncan’s face. The first time he had asked her to let him please her in that position, she had simply hovered over his tongue. After some eye rolling and cajoling and Duncan assuring her she wouldn’t break his jaw, she had settled in comfortably and been delivered one of the most mind blowing orgasms of her life.

“A little treat for a good little boy,” she teased as she lowered herself fully onto his mouth. His piercing blue eyes stayed locked onto her as one hand steadied herself by gripping onto the headboard and the other gripped onto his hair. He nestled his way between her outer lips and inhaled her scent heavily through his nose like an addict. In a way, he was. Everytime they were apart, which was way more often than Duncan would like, something inside of his body was ticking away like a bomb. It was as though if he didn’t see her soon then he would cease to exist. His body, mind and soul called to her in ways he had never experienced before.

“I think the beachy air is making you taste sweeter,” Duncan moaned as he came up from his first solid drink of her. He was taking his time. He never went too fast when it came to his time between her legs. It was like having only one gift to open on Christmas. He savored the moment like it would be his last. Olivia arched her back with a slight gasp as he hit the most sacred spot on her pussy. It was a secret nook that only Duncan had ever been able to find and he used it sparingly. Long ago Duncan had learned that the slower he worked at her pussy, the faster she came.

“You feel so good,” she gasped out as she watched him below her in awe.

“Only cause I have the best tasting pussy in the world to love on.” It wasn’t even conjecture. Olivia really did taste the best. She smelled the best. She felt the best. Duncan thinks that was when he first knew they were meant to be.

“Don’t tease,” she chastised as he pulled away a bit and pecked kisses onto the inner skin of her thighs. He smirked at her before obeying her command and located her clit again with his tongue. His thumb rubbed on the little pearl gently as he felt the muscles in her legs begin to shake in anticipation above him. Knowing she would soon be teetering over the edge, he switched to his tongue and applied some extra pressure.

“Feeling good, baby?” he asked as her breaths turned into pants. He reached one hand up to cup one of her breasts for a massage while the other tightened its grip on her hips as she began to rut against his tongue. Ever the tease, Duncan switched from his pattern of licking to placing some gentle kisses against her clit as he would to her forehead.

“Donut, please, I wanna cum...I’m gonna cum so hard.” He stopped playing games for the sake of that beautiful little whine that was tinging her voice and used his arsenal of skill to quickly bring her over the edge. The sound of his name falling from her lips and the way she shivered with delight was a beautiful sight that Duncan knew he would never tire of witnessing.

“You look like a fucking angel when you cum,” he murmured as he placed more kisses to the inside of her thigh.

“Bet you’re not hungry anymore,” she smirked as she ran a hand through her hair and fell onto her back.

“No, I am satisfied beyond belief.” He patted his stomach for emphasis, smiling when that got a laugh out of her.

“Good because I’m starving.” Olivia sprang up from the bed with a newfound invigoration and grabbed a fluffy white robe from the hook behind the bathroom door.

“Where are you going? We’re not gonna cuddle?” Duncan loved their post sex cuddles.

“Later, Donut, my stomach is rumbling. After we eat, I need to cum again and then you need to cum inside of me. My pussy and my tummy are feeling empty. I can only take care of one at a time.” She looked at him like that should have been obvious.

“You’re lucky you’re beautiful and I love you because you are fucking insane.” Olivia merely shrugged because it was the truth and it was a truth that she had accepted long ago.

“Come on. Homemade granola does not make itself.” Duncan lost his sense of being for a moment as his future flashed before him. Many more mornings just like this. Slowly waking up. Loving each other first thing. Making breakfast. Maybe another cat or a dog walking around downstairs. The pitter patter of a little Liv or little Donut. It made his heart blossom in his chest. “Please, Duncan?” She was calling him from downstairs, unable to find the tools and ingredients she needed to make her granola and wanting the help of the man who had designed every aspect of the home.

“Just putting on some pants!” He moved quickly. He had a life with her to start.

Tags:

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @aveiangdon @and-shes-not-even-pretty @ticklish-leafy-plant @bbyduncan @khaleesimel @langdonslove @langdvn

[bloodiedskirtts]

The Safest Way To Go | Part Four: And I’ll go back to her

Summary: Y/N meets Bucky’s new girlfriend

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of sex

A/N: TAG LIST IS OPEN!

Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading. I hope you guys like it! Gif not mine, credit to owner.

Safest Way To Go Masterlist

Y/N spent the night sleeping in Sam’s bed, while he insisted he would sleep on the couch, she wouldn’t hear it. She cuddled into Sam’s chest, trying to fight back tears as he wrapped his arms around her. This wasn’t the first time that he had comforted her after a fight with Bucky. He was surprised that Bucky wasn’t complaining to him as well. Over the years of being friends with these two, he had grown used to helping them through their arguments. All of their friends had become accustomed to it.

However, he had never seen her this broken up about it. He didn’t understand why, they weren’t in a relationship anymore. Hell, they were both seeing other people. And while she claimed it was just because he was her best friend and she hated fighting with him, he knew that was utter bullshit. He sighed as she sobbed into his chest, finally took a nap on his couch, ate some pizza with him, Peggy and Steve, complained about Bucky some more and then announced she was going to bed.

As much as Sam and Y/N flirted, they had never done anything sexual with one another. For Sam that was a line he would never cross. Of course, Y/N thought it would be a great way to get back at Bucky. But she knew that involving their friends in the mess of their relationship that way was going way too far. So sharing a bed involved a little bit of cuddling and a lot of sleeping. Although, she did a snap of them looking very cozy onto her Instagram story. No worries of Grant seeing it, he didn’t have social media, he thought their generation spent too much time glued to a screen.

When she awoke the next morning, she felt much better, she was no longer hungover and had cried all her tears out. She stretched, forgetting why she was in Sam’s bed, until she remembered the fight she had with Bucky. She sighed heavily, throwing herself back on the bed. Sam jolted awake at the sudden movement in the bed.

‘What’s up?’ he asked groggily. 

‘I just have to go back to the apartment and deal with that dickhead,’ she sighed. 

‘You can stay here until you want to deal with Bucky,’ he replied, rubbing his eyes.

‘Yes, well it’s our family dinner today. And it’s Bucky and mine’s turn to bring dessert. So I have to at least to get my own clothes from my apartment.’

Every Sunday, the gang got together (no matter what), with everyone bringing something to serve up. They usually went to Nat and Sharon’s apartment, as it was the biggest of all three. This week, Y/N and Bucky were tasked with bringing dessert, she had decided to bake brownies, But that meet she had to spend at least two hours in her apartment and face Bucky. 

‘You can skip this week, Nat and Shaz will understand,’ he replied. 

Both of them were no stranger to Bucky and Y/N bust ups. Although it never stopped either of them from attending their weekly family dinners.

She snorted, ‘If you think I’m gonna let James Buchanan Barnes stop me from going to my favourite part of the week, you’ve got another thing coming to ya.’

She hopped out of the bed, ‘I need to shower, bake you all the best brownies you’ve ever had and deal with my idiot roommate.’

‘Hey, you can always shower with me. I mean save the water and the environment, all that jazz,’ he teased.

‘Samuel Wilson, you are absolutely despicable!’ she teased, kissing him on the cheek before heading out of the apartment.

She needed to take a shower, she hadn’t managed to fit one in yesterday and she felt super gross today. As soon as she got into her apartment, she pulled off her pyjama top as she made her way to the bathroom. She pushed her shorts off, leaving her in just her panties as she opened the door. She presumed Bucky was still in his room, it was still early, and if he did venture out, it’s not as if he hadn’t seen it all before. However, when she opened the bathroom door, she realised the shower was already on. She rolled her eyes, the one time that he was awake. She decided to brush her teeth first before kicking him out.

However, she froze when she heard a very girly giggle come from the shower. She gasped loudly, it wasn’t just Bucky in the shower. Tears pricked her eyes as she heard another giggle. She turned to leave but knocked over the laundry basket in the corner. Bucky’s head poked out from behind the shower curtain, a shit eating grin on his face.

‘Oh, hey. Didn’t realise you were home,’ he snarked.

Another head popped other, causing Y/N to cover herself with a nearby towel, a blush covering her face.

‘Oh my God! I am so fucking embarrassed! Hi, I’m Wanda! Nice to meet you!’ she said, giving her a little wave.

She opened and closed her mouth, ‘Oh..Yes...I’m Y/N...I should...be...bye...’

She fled from the bathroom, tears forming as she barricaded herself in her room until she heard her apartment door close.

‘And she was fuckin’ naked. He was fuckin’ her in my shower!’ she told Natasha and Sharon, as she perched on Peggy’s lap.

‘I’m pretty sure it’s his shower too,’ Sharon pointed out. 

‘Not since I had to scrub it before I could use it,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t want any of his...’

‘What?’ Steve teased, as he handed her a beer. ‘I’m pretty sure less than 48 hours ago you were all over Mr Barnes.’

She slapped Steve on the chest, ‘You have to take my side on this!’

‘Do we?’ he teased.

She rolled her eyes, ‘Yes, I made a tray of brownies all by myself! And I don’t see his dumb face here. So I am clearly the better friend! And I am better looking!’

Sam raised his beer bottle, ‘I will drink to that my friend!’

‘I dunno...’ Steve teased, winking at Y/N.

‘Wow! Thank you,’ she joked, sticking her tongue out at Steve.

‘I am just saying I have never once missed a family dinner and Bu-’

Her eyes shot to the door when it opened, she almost fell from Peggy’s lap when Bucky arrived, hand in hand with Wanda. Her jaw tensed as she watched him, he refused to make eye contact with her.

‘Hey guys, sorry I’m late. Hope it’s okay that I brought Wanda. Thought it was time she met the gang,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

She rolled her eyes, as Wanda waved from Bucky’s side. Sam smiled at her, before throwing Bucky a look which said, What are you doing?

‘I am so excited to meet James’ friends!’ Wanda gushed.

Y/N made a face at Sam when she called Bucky ‘James’ - no one called him James!

He introduced the tiny auburn haired woman to the group, with everyone welcoming her warmly. However, when Bucky got to his roommate he stuttered for a second.

She smiled, ‘Well at least we get to meet fully clothed this time!’

Wanda laughed at this, that laugh would haunt her - she couldn’t stop thinking about her being in the shower, naked with her Bucky.

Bucky snorted, ‘If that’s what you call covering up...’

She looked down at the shorts and crop top, she was wearing, it was unusually humid for the time of year. She rolled her eyes, before pushing off Peggy’s lap. She was showing just as much skin in her summer dress, but Bucky wasn’t slut shaming her in front of their friends.

‘I’m gonna check on the food’ she hissed at Bucky. ‘You stay, Peg.’

Peggy, Steve and Sam were in charge of preparing the dinner this week, with Sharon and Nat providing drinks and the venue. However, she couldn’t be in the same room as Bucky and that girl a second longer. She was sure she was a lovely girl but she couldn’t stop thinking about her and Bucky in the shower. It turned her stomach.

‘Maybe someone should help her,’ Steve announced as he stared Bucky down.

He let out a sigh, as he helped Wanda find a place to sit. 

‘Sure, I’ll offer up my services,’ he tried to sass, but Steve was in no mood to joke with his best friend

He headed through the doors into the kitchen where she was standing with her back to him. Her hands were gripping the counter top as she tried to compose herself.

‘Hey...’

She spun around to look at him, rolling her eyes, ‘What do you want?’

He sighed, ‘If you’re gonna be childish, I’m not gonna bother.’

‘Me? Childish?’ she hissed, stepping towards him. ‘I’m not the childish one here!’

He rolled his eyes, ‘Sure. That’s why you’re hiding in the kitchen!’

‘Naw, Bucky. Fuck off! Why the sudden interest in bringing coffee shop girl to family night? We never bring outsiders to-’

‘She’s not an outsider,’ he hissed, taking a step closer to her.

‘Then what is she? The future Mrs Barnes? Can I be flowergirl? Cos I’m not wife material. Just a good fuck,’ she snapped. ‘Or, have you replaced that too?’

‘Says the one who had another dick inside her, when my cum was-’

She turned away from him, ‘I am not having this argument, again.’

He grabbed her arm, spinning her to face him, she was dangerously close to him now.

‘You don’t have the right to be jealous,’ he hissed, his breath hot on her cheek.

‘I’m not jealous, James. Just thought you cared more about your friends than some random chick,’ she returned.

‘Oh fuck this,’ he said as his lips crashed against hers. She was taken by surprise at the force of the kiss, but she didn’t complain. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands gripped her ass. He hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he backed her up onto the kitchen counter. She was moaning softly, as his fingers pulled at her hair. He needed her, his free hand brushing over her tits before moving down between their bodies. He was massaging her aching pussy through her denim shorts, devouring her moans, when the door opened.

He jumped away from her, turning to see Steve looking at them wide eyed. 

‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ he hissed. ‘Are you two serious? Your date is less than twenty feet away, Buck! I can’t, no I won’t tolerate this!’

She jumped down from the counter, her panties completely soaked through and she was aching for Bucky’s touch again.

‘We could handle your bullshit when it was just you two, but you are seeing other people now!’ Steve scolded them.

They looked at the floor, Y/N shuffling her sneaker clad feet, knowing Steve was right. But she couldn’t stay away from Bucky. She didn’t know why she had ever suggested they just fuck, no relationship. She knew she was playing a dangerous game. But she couldn’t give him up.

‘Look, it was a mistake,’ Bucky said. ‘Go out there, we’ll bring out the food in a second.’

‘No, not a chance. If I turn my back you’ll get right back to it. And I’m sure Nat and Shaz won’t appreciate you fucking in their kitchen!’ he retorted.

When they did take their seats, Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off, Y/N. He regretted bringing Wanda as she chatted the ear off him, although he was barely paying attention to anything she was saying. Although she seemed to hit it off with everyone immediately. After helping clear up after dessert, Bucky announced that he had to head off.

‘I have a big assignment this semester. I have a meeting with my tutor first thing tomorrow morning,’ he lied. ‘So I’m gonna head off. I’ll drop you home, Wanda. Y/N do you want get a ride from me?’

She smirked at his words, ‘It is pretty late for me to be walking home alone.’

She knew that she would be walking back with Steve, Peggy and Sam, but Wanda didn’t. 

‘Let me just grab my jacket, Bucky Bear,’ she said, planting a kiss on Sam’s cheek as she hopped up from his lap.

‘So are you two a thing?’ Wanda asked as she watched the other woman sway out of the room.

Everyone in the den started laughing at her words, causing Wanda to blush. 

‘Naw, me and Y/N are just friends. Flirty friends, it drives Bu...’ Sam froze as he noted the look in Bucky’s eyes.

‘What?’ Wanda asked.

‘It drives everyone mad. They think we are gross,’ he recovered.

‘But, we’re all pretty coupley here,’ Steve interjected. ‘Me and Peggy, Sharon and Natasha.’

‘Well then maybe you should make a move on Y/N,’ Wanda suggested to Sam. ‘I mean you two are the only single ones here. And I’m sure you’ve all, ya know...’

She made a sexual gesture.

‘Oh yea, we’re the Ross and Rachel of the gang,’ he faked a laugh, looking at Bucky who was looking super nervous.

Thankfully, the conversation was cut short when Y/N reappeared with her jacket. She waved goodbye to everyone, as she followed Bucky and Wanda out of the door. She fell into step with them begrudgingly, but it soon became clear that Wanda was the third wheel in the situation. Bucky looked at the other woman with such adoration, Wanda was nervous. They were so at ease with one another. She watched as they joked with one another, they even finished one another’s sentences.

‘Do you two have matching tattoos?’ she asked, as she slipped into the passenger seat of Bucky’s car.

He laughed loudly, quickly joined by Y/N, who gripped his shoulder from her place in the back. His hand found hers, sending electric shocks through both of their bodies. 

‘We sure do,’ Bucky said, as he pulled his hand away and started up his car. ‘We’ve known each other our whole life. We even share a fuckin’ birthday.’

‘So on our eighteenth birthday we got drunk and got tattoos,’ she giggled from the backseat.

Wanda barely got a word in edgewise for the remainder of the journey. Bucky didn’t even kiss her goodbye as he dropped her off outside her apartment block. Hell, he didn’t even get out of his car. He seemed especially eager to get home.

While Wanda got into her pyjamas and watched Netflix, Bucky and Y/N were stumbling into their apartment, trying to get the other person’s clothes off as quick as possible. She was a moaning mess within minutes, both of them whispering their apologies as they fell into Bucky’s bed and when they were both spent, she went to leave. 

He reached out to grip her arm, ‘Stay. Please...’

‘Bucky, you told me...’

‘I didn’t mean it,’ he whispered.

She looked down, what were they doing? But she nodded, laying back into his bed and cuddling into his arms.

‘So Hercules or Aladdin?’ he asked, as he grabbed his laptop. 

TAG LIST OPEN

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[mubal4]

“Trust the process!”

 This is a saying the Philadelphia 76ers thrived on for the last several years with what they were doing with the team.  Well, over that time they have built a pretty strong team and organization losing to the eventual NBA Champions (Toronto Raptors) in the playoffs last year and beginning this year on a good run.  We’ve talked tons about the process in this blog and in the podcast about that same vision as well as enjoying the process, and the journey.  We’ve also heard it many times, for me, through many mentors, guides, and those that have come before us; “believe in the process & trust your training.” To this day, at the end of each page in my journal I write, “Stay the course. Keep showing up. This is part of the process. You are close.”  Deep down inside I do, I do thoroughly believe in this way of thinking and there are times I am laser focused and aware of it; but there are many, many times that either go into something without it top of mind, or I am questioning that same “process.”

 Interestingly enough, after having a great Thanksgiving break and over the last couple of days, I’ve had those thoughts.  Early Monday morning or oldest daughter woke up in the middle of the night with some type of stomach bug.  Therefore, Robin and I both woke up to make sure she was okay and tried to do what we could to help her navigate, “through the process.” It was a long night because she was basically throwing up every hour for about 10 hours until Monday afternoon.  After a visit to the hospital, blood work and fluids, she was starting the mend as we go ready for bed Monday night.  Unfortunately, the circumstances repeated themselves Monday into Tuesday with Robin and me.  Fortunately, it wasn’t as frequent as with Isabella, but we certainly did come down with the bug and put us down for the count yesterday.  Oddly enough, it was the 1st time in over a decade I had thrown up.  Why do I share these details, well, because they are funny, to a degree, and lead to the background of the story.  And, it is what is on my mind right now 😊. Our youngest, Alaina, was having a great Monday and Tuesday but was a bit concerned she was going to get impacted too. (she doesn’t handle the whole throwing up well).  Well, this morning, the bug got to the bug (that is what we call her 😊) and she was home with me during the day; but fortunately, I believe, we are all trending upward and getting closer to 100%. Here is where I am questioning these circumstances being “part of the process.” Robin had staff meetings all day yesterday for school and was scheduled to coach.  Bella is gearing up for her intrasquad meet on Friday.  Alaina begins performing in her holiday show tomorrow. For me, there were the work and business responsibilities that didn’t happen yesterday, and I have a 50-mile race coming up on Saturday.  Don’t get me wrong, I think I speak for all of us that lounging on the couch or in bed for the better part of a day is a great wish, but while your dealing with a flu bug, and, have these others things you are preparing for doesn’t make “the process” very IDEAL.  So, my thoughts go to, “what does this have to do with the process?” “What lessons are we supposed to learn from this?”  At the current time, maybe not any but a few days, weeks, or months down the road? There may be some.  I do believe there are some lessons in life here.  Bella getting bit with that bug was out of her control.  Did Robin, Alaina, and I have control over getting it? I guess, if we quarantined Bella and avoided her for 24-48 hours.  So, that said, no, overall, in my mind these were circumstances, keeping things real here 😊, that were out of our control.  How we bring it into “the process” is how we control it going forward.  Well, we all rested, which for those that know me, it is very, very hard to do.  Even when I have those moments of downtime, I am typically thinking about the thing that I am going to do immediately next when I get done “relaxing.” I just shook my head as I wrote that sentence because it just sounds ridiculous.  But I will say I did better yesterday; let emails and calls go and my commitments as well & focused on, well in all honestly, not throwing up or worse 😊!!!!  But back to the process, Robin went back to school and coaching today.  Bella was back at the gym, taking it slow, and preparing for her intrasquad meet on Friday.  Alaina is resting today and has every intention of being at her show tomorrow. Me, I will be toeing that line on Saturday.  None of us know what to expect, how we are going to feel tomorrow, or, at this moment, how this may be part of our process.  However, my guess is come Sunday morning, we will all have some clarity on what we able to overcome during these circumstances that are uncontrollable and how we continue to thrive in those moments that are not ideal 😊.

 There will be situations that knock you on your ass. It could be a brief moment, maybe a few seconds, or something that last days, weeks, months, in some cases years. However, even though we may be down we still have the power and the ability to continue to show up, whatever that may mean to you.  We were down for the count yesterday, and even though it sucked to get out of bed today and get things moving, we did it and by tonight, we have momentum.  Today Alaina is down, and I know, trust me I KNOW, she will not want to get out of bed tomorrow; but she will and will be great at her show tomorrow.  We hear stories about folks all the time that were down and out, their lives were over, “no way they can ever come back from that,” and those folks figure it out. They keep showing up, they stay the course, and the continue to trust the process…………even at times, they may question it.  I am learning that questioning stuff, at most times, may be just a waste of time.  The more I let go, let life come to me, and figure it out, the less stress I put on myself.  I think I am getting better at letting things go but I may be thinking, or questioning, more that is creating that stress.  I will say, getting sick these last few days forced me and the girls to slow down; and, even with “ALL THESE THINGS” we have coming up, I feel less stressed about them now than I did a few days ago.  Maybe this is the part of the process that I needed to learn how to trust?

[defunctblogtobedeleted]

11/15/19 3:33am - goin home, trying new things

So the trip home to see the family was wonderful. Actually I spent a little too long watching TV before leaving and waiting for the gas guy to turn on the heat, so I left a little late and was damn near passing out on the drive over. Had to stop a few times to nap, but made it. Got caught up on The Adventure Zone again. I’m really excited for this new story they’re gonna do, it’s like Harry Potter meets My Hero Academia. Pretty fuckin neato.

But yeah I got there had a beer with my mom and went to the game and froze my fucking BALLS off watching taven play football. ugh jesus. And the poor guys were against a team like 4 times bigger than them, I swear they didn’t get double digit offensive yardage. They’d get an offsides call and start first and 5, hand off the ball to taven three times in a row and he’d pick up 1 yard, 1 yard, -2 yards, and they’d punt it away again. I don’t think I saw a single first down lol. Taven got hurt so we left in the fourth, they were down 77-0 with 10 minutes left -_-

But still, good to see him play lol. It wasn’t about watching a win, it was about being there for him on his birthday. Fuck that sucks though lol. I always hated playing in the cold. 

Most of the weekend I hung out with wes at his and jenny’s place. We did hang out with mom and the fam for a bonfire on saturday, I ate as much guac as I could fit in my face, we had a couple beers, made some fires. It was sweet. Then we played some super metroid before I started passing out.

Sunday wes and I beat the game and went to breakfast. My dad wasn’t around so I drove out to visit JMell in NoVa instead. His place is pretty nice, and we mostly watched some funny youtube videos. Good ol Rack Em Willie and other crackhead vids and this guy Super Sus and general nonsense. Couldn’t go crazy because I needed to make it back for work.

So I drove back. Made it to Jill’s at 2 and she helped keep me awake until I needed to get ready for work because I picked up a daytime shift from 7 to 5. And I slogged through that just fine. Got a raise at work, but like the bare minimum, but I’llll fucking take it. It’s been the exact same as every other time I got a raise I think lmfao. A little extra pocket cash to throw at new toys is nothing to scoff at, though, I need another butt plug and stuff lmfao. 

I was supposed to roll from there to durham to watch the new rick and morty, but I passed out and overslept by an hour instead. fucking hate when my bodily needs get in the way of me trying to hang out with people for 48 hours straight, yknow? Sucks.

But I went to slosh still, had a lovely chill time. Made plans to go home to Jill but ended up bouncing to another bar with a bunch of people there and drank for another hour. Got me in a little hot water, but whatever. Worth it I think lol. I just can’t help myself from hanging out with as many people as long as possible. 

Jill and I woke up at like 2 and hung out most of the day just fucking around watching tv. I bailed to go run some errands and do karaoke. Had to get some epoxy so I could put together my butt plug tail. I finally knocked that out this evening before work, I think it turned out great. Gotta try it out soon :3

But karaoke was quiet. Not a lot of people came out because it was like bitter cold and windy and had been raining all day. So on the plus side I got to sing like five songs. On the downside, I didn’t get to flirt with any new people lolol. An old stripper friend I had made there, Kellene, showed up and we talked about how I was in her dream the night before and chit chatted a bit. Got to sing a little together, I love her fucking voice. But at the end of the night she asked me for some money to help pay for her tab. I was like sure and gave her $8, she said I was sweet asked if I wanted to do anything with her I was like huwhaaa I guess? maybe we make out somewhere? Idk. Then she roams the room around and comes back and asks me for money again and I was like dude I gave you everything in my wallet, you have my $8 right there in your hand. And she says “no this is my $8 I got it from my purse,” while she opens her purse and pulls the rest of the money she needs out of it. I was like... pretty flabbergasted. Like not like floored, more still amused than anything. Drunk people are funny.

Also after I sang some Drake my beautiful bartender Jaime said I should sing Frank Ocean. Killed it singing self control, and she like held my hands and said I love you like she has the past couple weeks. I made a slight mistake and let my curiosity get the better of me. It’s definitely a rule of mine to not ask girls who are working out, but I was just like “look I know this is a little inapprop, but would you want to go out sometime?” and she says “yeah, as friends, definitely.” and I’m like oooooof. She had to take care of another customer so I just walked away from that one. Glad I cleared that up though I really thought she was being flirty and cutesy but I’m just a knucklehead. Could’ve been worse lmfao. 

Anyway, went home with Jill, we hung out all day again watching this mediocre 911 show. Kinda fun at points though. It was mostly nice just chilling with her early since I’d blown her off til really late a couple times in a row. 

Then spice was last night and ho. my. god. It was the normal confection of watching people get beat, not meeting as people this time around because I knew a whole bunch of people that were there already. But I did meet a few. Hung out with the cute boy from the fashion show for a while. We have these like really awkward pauses in conversation though where he doesn’t like ask me anything and I run out of things to say but he’s just staring at me and grinning so intently. Idk, man.  Lol. I was supposed to do a scene that I had talked out with someone, but they unfortunately called in sick. So I thought I wasn’t gonna do anything, but then I ended up chit chatting with Neko and he offered to beat on me that night.

Wowowoww bottoming a REAL impact scene was intense. Like IN. TENSE. like I was thinking about tapping out a few times from the pain of it, but then he’d take a break and scratch me or rub my back and it would just feel so gooooood. By the end I was taking these hits in the back and like shivering with excitement/adrenaline/idk what. He like threw his thigh between my legs while I was up on the cross to support me and started rubbing my back and bit my shoulder and hnnnnng. god I just started lightly scratching and chewing on his arm. I was literally in uncontrollable shivers and giggles afterward, it was actually probably too much lol but I lovvvved it. I feel like I really Get it now. Especially as I sit on my ass covered in bruises today lol. Then my friend Bun squish cuddled me until I came back down to normalcy. Maya and Jill came to watch, actually, they got to see it happen so that was kinda rad. Jill wanted to go dancing at alchemy afterward but I was like no fucking way could I dance after taking that lol. So I drug them out to boxcar with me and we played some galaga and skee ball and foosball and tekken. Me and Jill almost got a shutout on Maya+some rando, and then the randos were like nahhhh so I beat Jill+Maya 2v1. We played again later and I lost the set though. But I was dressed up as a kitty all through boxcar lol, kinda neat. We stayed up til 6am just watching Daria and ranodm youtube shit. 

Slept a long time, almost had a weird fight with Jill, smoothed that over, took a bath for a few hours and I’ve been working. Excited to get off though, but not for any reason in particular. Just fuck work I guess? lol.

I really felt like I needed to write about that impact scene while it was fresh. It’s kinda stuck in my head. :3 

I’ve got emo karaoke in a few days, should be a lot of fun. <3 nothing too exciting coming up though. Having to schedule a bunch of extra work days to appease my boss kinda suckkssss but whatever I’ll take the money lol.

[keywestlou]

KEY WEST BREAKFAST CLUBS

Some consume alcohol in the evening, some in the afternoon into the evening, some in the evening. Some consume all day.

Drinking seems to be an All American sport. Definitely is in Key West.

Some require that early morning drink(s). Soothe the nerves, alcoholism, call it whatever you like. It is definitely needed!

I am aware of 2 Key West breakfast clubs. Schooner Wharf and Don’s Place. Both open at 7 in the morning. People arrive early and stand waiting for the 7 o’clock bell.

Schooner is open air. So people stand at the bar waiting. Don’s enclosed. They begin lining up outside at 6:45.

Never a mere handful at either place. A significant number of patrons waiting.

Schooner Wharf has an official club. Six hundred fifty two members.

I have been at both bars early morning.

Schooner Wharf several times years ago when my grandkids would visit me. Schooners has one of the best breakfasts in town and a terrific view of boats from dock side tables. I would take the grandkids for breakfast around 8. Nod hello to some of my friends at the bar as we were being seate.

Don’s Place is Key West icon Don Manaher’s place. Actually called Don’s Millionaire Bar. Don paid $1 million for the bar years ago.

This is where the customers line up outside waiting for the doors to open at 7. Don does a big breakfast club business.

I was at Don’s one morning at 7. Never again. Too early for me to drink. Actually, Don had arranged some sort of party. I went for the party phase. Knocked on my ass by the drinking phase.

A man’s word is his bond. So the saying goes. A nation’s word should be its bond also. Agreements between nations are reduced to writing. Makes the bond even stronger.

I have always respected Great Britain and France for declaring war on Germany immediately when Hitler attacked Poland. They had a mutual defense pact with each other.

The U.S. has many agreements between nations. Some for war, some for trade, whatever.

A nation sticks to its word. Most have. Till the past couple of years. The U.S. has failed to be a dependable partner since Trump’s election.

Syria has been an ongoing war for years. Never seems to get resolved. Many countries involved. Most want to control Syria for economic reasons.

Turkey is led by an authoritarian figure, Tayyip Erdogan. Though elected President, a dictator. He wants Syria for Turkey.

Trump and Erdogan are birds of a feather. Bullies, nationalists. The two perceive themselves to be tough guys. They get along well.

Last night, the 2 had a long distance call.  Erdogan wanted to invade the northeast border of Syria. The much respected Kurds have been defending the area. With the assistance of 1,000 American troops.

Trump agreed to withdraw the American troops immediately. The Americans have been withdrawing all day from the border. Turkey prepared to go in. Tough though the Kurds may be, it is highly questionable whether they can hold back the Turks.

The U.S. and Kurds have had a long standing agreement that U.S. forces would work with them. Trump did not care. He has no respect for agreements. Many Kurd friends and Syrian civilians will die because Trump wanted to impress a “political friend.”

Trump has justified his actions with the statement it is time to remove the U.S. from “ridiculous endless wars.”

Bullshit, of course. His intent is to show another national leader of the power he (Trump) has.

There is a shame factor involved. The U.S. by Trump’s actions have shamed itself. Trump stabbed the Kurds in the back.

Another area of the U.S. government reflects shame. The Republican members of the U.S. Senate. They blindly stand with Trump on most things. Things diabolical, non-legal, etc. And criticize not. They fear Trump. Amazing! Less than 3 years in office and he has them cowering.

Wisconsin’s Republican Senator Johnson guested on Meet the Press yesterday.

Some may think he did his duty by defending Trump. Others may view his performance as scary.

Johnson is not new to the political game. He is in his second term and is considered one of the Senate’s brighter members. Did not come over as such yesterday.

Rather than answer questions posed, he jumped in and started swiftly reading from a prepared document. He kept screwing it up. He frequently left the document which added to the confusion. He ranted and raved. Conducted himself abusively.

The man was the personification of fear. He feared. I have to assume he feared Trump. It appeared he sold his soul to the country store.

He reminded me of Sean Spicer. Spicer was Trump’s first Press Secretary. Recall inauguration day. Trump was upset with Sean’s description of the crowd. Trump wanted it to be the largest ever. Spicer spoke truth. It was much less than Obama’s.

Trump sent Spicer back before the TV cameras several times. Each time the pain and anger with that which he was being forced to do was obvious on his face.

Such is what I saw in Johnson’s conduct yesterday on Meet the Press.

To make the picture complete, friday evening Johnson was interviewed by the Wall Street Journal. He was upset with Trump. He thought Trump had created a quid pro quo by holding up military aid to the Ukraine.

Less than 48 hours later on sunday morning, he took an opposite position. I cannot say he was less upset sunday morning as he had been friday evening. No, he was more upset sunday morning.

It was obvious Johnson had been imposed upon and was preaching a line not to his liking.

An example of the pot calling the kettle black. Trump said this past week that Nancy Pelosi may be guilty of treason. Why? She knew of all the “many shifty Adam Schiff lies and massive frauds perpetrated upon Congress and the American people.” Trump twittered, “The knowledge constitutes High Crimes and Misdemeanors, and even treason.”

Today is Vladimir Putin’s birthday. He is 67 years old. I bet Trump will call and wish his “friend” a Happy Birthday!

I conclude with a question: Does Democracy have a future?

Mull the question over. Some may wish to comment with a response.

Enjoy your day!

KEY WEST BREAKFAST CLUBS was originally published on Key West Lou