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misserabella · 3 months

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two geniuses (playing love)

masterlist!

synopsis; feelings flourish in between the two of you as you’re forced to act as a couple. could a kiss finally let the two of you understand what was really going on underneath your supposedly hatred? you’re scared to find out.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, guns, shots being fired, girls being bitches, bickering, lots of teasing, so much flufffffff, spencer and reader being confused, pining, neck kisses, making out (their first kiss!!), violence, guns, shots being fired, spencer gets flustered a lot, also gets a boner… (so much more that i probably can’t remember)…

“so what do we know about this unsub?” hotch asked, all of you were sitting on the police station around the table, trying to understand this killers motive.

“well, we know his killings evolve around y/n.” morgan stated the obvious, to what you sighed.

“stalkers may exhibit a range of psychological issues, including personality disorders such as narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and delusional disorders like erotomania. stalking behaviors can also be influenced by insecure attachment styles rooted in childhood experiences.” spencer added, and you nodded.

“erotomania is a delusional disorder that makes a person believe the person of their infatuation hace reciprocated feelings or love and affection, when they don’t. it may even be a person they’ve never met. they might even be famous, like a politician or an actor. people with this disorder can be so sure of this love that they think they’re in a relationship with this person. they may not be able to accept facts that prove otherwise. it is also called de clérambault syndrome, and it’s rare. it can happen on its own. but it’s usually linked to another mental health condition, like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. it can last for weeks or years.” you recited as if you were reading it off of a book.

“you two are like an encyclopedia.” emily smiled, chuckling.

“so this killer will go to the extreme of killing for you if needed.” jj nodded.

“seems like it.” you answered.

“he also seems pretty possessive and protective of you. he seems to have noticed spencer too.” morgan pointed out.

“you think he might think we’re dating?” you inquired with disbelief.

“it would play to our favor. if our profile around him is right, he might not be able to control the need to stay quiet about it and take action.” gideon said, what made you scoff.

“so what now? we should hold hands and act like a happy couple? fuck no.”

“y/n.” hotch scolded you.

“i’m sorry but that’s not gonna work. if none of you have noticed, spencer and i don’t really get along.”

“shocker!” emily sarcastically said, to what you squinted your eyes at her.

“come on guys… i can’t be the only one who doesn’t see this working out.” you tried to make up their minds and spencer pitched in.

“yeah. and to be honest i don’t want to become the unsub’s new target.” spencer pointed out.

jj stepped in. “it's true that your relationship has been strained, but you're both intelligent individuals. i’m sure you can put aside your differences to sell this lie. it's not about whether or not you like each other; it's about stopping this unsub at all costs." you listened to her words, groaning. she was right. you needed to stop acting like children and work together to catch this unsub.

you looked at spencer, who was already looking at you, communicating with a nod.

“you’re right.” you sighed at jj. “i guess it’s the only way, huh?” you gave in.

hotch stepped in, a flicker of relief crossing his face. "good. now, let's think through the details. we need to create a plausible backstory for your relationship, make sure your body language and interactions are believable, and be prepared for any curveballs the unsub might throw at us. this isn't going to be easy, but I have faith in both of you, and I know you can make this work." you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“how should we… how should we act around each other?” you inquired, cringing internally.

rossi answered “for your relationship to appear authentic, you'll need to display a certain level of intimacy and affection.”

“holding hands, touching each other frequently, being in close proximity… you can't come across as distant or awkward, as that would immediately raise suspicions.”emily added.

“you need to convince the unsub that you're truly in love with each other." jj finished and you scoffed.

“well that’s gonna be easy…” you sarcastically said, bracing yourself for what’s about to come.

his hand is warm, big engulfing your own. and clammy. spencer is nervous, awkward, you can feel it as you two walk through the beach, the light breeze hitting your skin, the salt engulfing your lungs.

you two have not said one word since you’ve left the headquarters, not on the way back to the hotel, or when you moved your things into his room, or on the way to the beach…

silence. total and absolute silence.

this was your new reality. to play fantasy with the person you hated the most. to act as if only love was what stood between the two of you and not this immense hatred that gnawed at your insides.

“did you know that by the amount of germs a hand holds it’s actually safer to kiss?” he asks, and his voice sounds hoarse by the silence he has buried himself in.

you hummed. “does that mean you’d prefer me to kiss you instead or hold your hand?” you asked, and he choked.

“what? no! no, what i meant is… i just…” you chuckled.

“relax, reid. it was a joke. i want to kiss you as much as you want to kiss me.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re so tense that whoever saw you would think im holding you hostage and making you hold my hand.” he scoffs.

“sorry. it’s just… awkward.”

“tell me about it…” you sighed, leaving your beach bag down onto the sand. “i think this might be a good spot.”

“for what?” he inquired, letting go of your hand.

“we’re supposed to be on a date, reid. doing things a couple does. you know… watch the sunset, spend time together… all of that.”

“oh.” he muttered. “yeah. that makes sense.” he nodded, watching you take out a couple of towels to spread them across the sand.

“gonna help me or stand there watching?” you chuckled, and he quickly moved to help you, muttering a ‘right, sorry’ that made you laugh internally. who’d know spencer could act like this? embarrassed and coy in front of you?

then he sat, book in hand. of course. “seriously? you’re gonna read right now?” you inquired him and he looked up at you.

“why not? the beach is one of the most relaxing places to read.” he shrugged, and you shook your head, pulling from your beach dress to get it off, leaving yourself on a blue bikini.

his eyes trailed down your sun kissed skin, the sun was setting, giving you a golden hue that made you shine.

“come with me.” your words took him out of his mind, his eyebrows raising as you offered him your hand. “come on.” he seemed suspicious, but again, he had to trust you if this lie was gonna be bought. and so he took your hand and got up. he tried not to think about the fact that your body was mostly exposed, and about the feeling of your soft smaller hand on his bigger one.

you let him go once he was up on his feet, and he took off his shirt, leaving him on his swimwear.

“so i wasn’t actually hallucinating it the last time… where were you hiding that?” you teased him, looking at his soft but toned body. he rolled his eyes.

“stop looking at me.”

“why? does it make you nervous?” you rose your eyebrows. “do i make you nervous, spencer?” you leaned in and he took a step back.

“no. i just don’t like it.” his nose scrunched up and you hummed.

“yeah, right.” you rolled your eyes, giving him your back to start walking towards the shore.

“no. really.” he followed you with a frown, feet fast behind you.

“it’s okay, spencer. your little crush on me it’s cute.”

his eyes widened. “what?! i don’t have a crush on you!”

your feet met the water and you walked in. you heard his splashes behind you as the water met your knees. it was just the perfect temperature.

“you’re dumb.” you said while facing him once again. and he gave you an incredulous look.

“i’m not dumb! why would i be dumb?”

“because of this.” and with a quick movement you were maneuvering him into the water, leaving him splashing your thighs and tummy. you laughed at his glare and shocked expression, his pretty hair now mildly soaked. “god. reid. it’s the second time this happens to you. you don’t learn!”

“you think this is funny, do you?” he asks you, looking up at you.

“definitely.” you nodded, still chuckling, your chest heaving up and down with ragged breathing.

“yeah?”

“yea-“ but before you could finish he was grabbing your hand and pulling you down into the water with him. you froze as you fell on his lap, water splashing around the two of you.

“well, check who’s in the water now, huh?” he was laughing at your shocked expression and damp face before he noticed the position in which the two of you were in, his laughter dying quickly enough.

his eyes met your body, wet in droplets that slid down your chest and navel towards your hips submerged in the water and on top of his. he swallowed at the feeling of your soft weight on him, the swell of your chest right in front of his face, centimeters away from his lips. the curve of your neck… your hair falling over it and down your collarbones… the warmth of your hands on his shoulders, the softness of the skin of your hip under his unconscious grip.

you looked down at him. at his messy hair that had started curling due to the salt, at his thin yet toned build, his heaving chest, his sharp jaw, his hazel puppy eyes, his long lashes… the way he was now looking at you…

“uhm…” he cleared his throat. and the spell in between the two of you broke. you shook your head.

“i should probably…” you pointed at your back, trying to gesture that you should get up, and he nodded, pulling his hands away from your body.

“yeah. yeah.” he nodded, and you used him for leverage to get back on your feet. it was awkward. the tension in between the two of you as he too got back on his feet, neither of you looking at each other. the sun was setting.

“i think i’m gonna… go read.” you nodded.

“yeah. okay. i’ll… i’ll meet you there.” he copied the shaking of your head, and after a couple of seconds in silence he staggered in turning around and getting out of the water. you only went in deeper, submerging your head under the waves, where there was no noise, and no thoughts clouding your head. no doubts. although you could still feel the vivid heartbeat of your heart, crashing harshly against your ribs.

spencer tried to focus on his book, but as much as he’d like to not admit it, his eyes were zeroed on you.

“okay…” you hummed. “ursa minor.” you pointed at the sky.

the sun was long gone, and yet, spencer and you still were on the beach, lying on your towels, admiring the map of stars above your heads.

spencer took his turn, pointing just a little bit far away from your constellation. “ursa mayor.”

“now that’s and easy one.” you rolled your eyes teasing him, and he couldn’t help but copy you.

“okay. what about… camelopardalis?” he pointed it out in the sky and you hummed.

“now you’re just showing off.” he groaned.

“oh, so now i’m showing off?” he smirked and you nodded.

“yeah, come on. you could have just pointed out draco. instead you chose camelopardalis? you’re a show off.” he chuckled.

“okay. maybe i just wanted to shut you up.” he shrugged and you laughed.

“now, that’s not easy.”

“tell me about it.” he mumbled. “hey look. it’s saturn.” he pointed it out, it shining more than a normal star.

“and mars.” you said, pointing it out as well.

“and dwarf planet 1 ceres.” he added and you looked at him with your eyebrows raising.

“you’re bluffing.”

“i’m not!”

“yes you are, reid. that planet can only be seen with binoculars. you wear glasses!”

“how do you know that?” you laughed.

“caught you!” he rolled his eyes.

“okay. maybe i memorized tonight’s sky map, so what?” you chuckled at his response.

“you’re a nerd.”

“yeah? well so are you. what’s your iq, 170?”

“177.” his eyes widened. “what?”

“i mean. i knew you were intelligent. but we almost share the same iq. that’s… that’s impressive.”

“was that a compliment, doctor reid?” you smirked.

he shook his head with a smile, scoffing. “no.”

“it was though.”

“it wasn’t.”

“it totally was.” your bickering caused him to laugh.

“you’re insufferable.” he groaned, and you smiled.

“i know.” you two rested in silence, looking at the sky. “this isn’t so bad…” he looked at you. “i mean, sure. i don’t like you. and acting as your girlfriend totally sucks, believe me. but i thought it would be worse.” he hummed.

“you have a way of complimenting someone and at the same time insulting them that is fascinating.” he said, and you chuckled. “by the way… what time is it?” you took your phone.

“almost one am.” you answered his question.

“we should probably get going.” he muttered and you rose your eyebrows.

“you want me back into your bed so soon, reid?” he scoffed.

“you really like to assume those kinds of things. in the end i’m gonna start thinking you’re the one who wants me in your bed.” your eyes widened.

“fuck no!” you said while getting up from the towel, and he smirked up at you.

“you sure?”

“of course i am.”

“then why are you avoiding my eyes?” he got up to stand beside you, a smirk on his face. you wanted to punch it out of him.

“i’m not.” you scoffed.

“but you are.” your skin rose in goosebumps as he stepped closer, your breath hitching when he took your chin and made you look up at him into his hazel eyes. the moonlight made them shine. and for a moment you forgot that he was teasing you, playing with you.

“i don’t want you in my bed.” you said, straight into his eyes, pushing away his touch. he smiled.

“okay. i’ll believe you.” you looked away from him as he started gathering his things and put on back his shirt. you wondered why your cheeks were burning. why your heart was racing.

he put your beach bag over his shoulder. “let’s go.” and even though your body jolted underneath his touch as he took your hand to guide you down the shore back to the hotel —and you reminded yourself that this was all part of the lie you were playing—, you let him.

“how are our lovebirds?” garcia asked through the phone and you rolled your eyes.

“would be better if you’d catch this guy now…” you said, and heard snickers from the other part of the line.

“he’s behaving, isn’t he?” morgan inquired and spencer frowned.

“what?! what do you mean behave?” you shushed him.

“he’s not being so bad… usual reid.” morgan laughed. “any news on the unsub?”

“actually, yeah.” jj said. “we caught him lurking on the beach you guys visited, but he was far from our reach. seemed pretty angry.”

“so he’s getting closer…” you nodded.

“he seemed to buy into the lie of the relationship.” spencer hummed and you nodded.

“you guys need to keep it up. if our profile is right he will not stand still and watch, he’ll confront the two of you soon.” hotch said.

“alright. we will.” you promised.

“we’ll keep in touch.” emily said before the line went dead and the two of you looked at each other.

“what should we do now?” he inquired.

“go to the pool.” you smiled and he groaned. “come on. he needs to see us.” you said while getting a bikini and entering the bathroom to get changed. once done you got out and found him with a pair of red trunks. “now that’s the spirit.” you smiled and he rolled his eyes. “come on, reid. the sun is up and shining for us. time to sunbathe!” he took some of his books and his sunglasses, following after you out of your room and though the hallways of the hotel until you two were met by happy squealing and laughter from the children enjoying their time in the pool, splashing each other.

you two took a sun lounge each, his umbrella staying open while yours stood shut as you applied tanning oil to your skin after getting rid of your shorts. spencer kept his summer sheer shirt, laying sat up straight in the sun lounge as he quickly went through the pages, reading 20.000 words per minute. you laid on your own, bathing in the warmth of the sun as it prickled your skin.

you were enjoying the tranquility until some shadows took over your sun. you peeked your eyes open to see three girls standing over the two of you, sweet smiles on their faces as they stared at your right. more like… at spencer.

“hey.” one of them caught his attention, and his hazel eyes pulled away from his book towards the blonde.

“what are you reading?” a brunette asked him next, and he stuttered just the slightest before answering.

“uhmm… anna karenina. it’s from leo tolstoy from 1878. it deals with themes of betrayal, faith, family, marriage, imperial russia, society, desire, and the differences between rural and urban life. it’s actually my second time reading it. this time in the original russian.” he spat out, babbling as the three girls listening. more like ate him up with their eyes.

“you’re cute.” the third and last girl, another blonde smiled, and spencer’s eyes widened.

“could i get your number?” the brunette inquired him and you sat up straight, slightly clearing your throat, what made them look at you. “and you are…?”

you smiled. “his girlfriend.” spencer looked at you scandalized, what almost made you laugh. “i mean i get you guys…” you said with a smirk, leaning over him, your chest pressing against his as your arms circled his neck. his breath hitched as you hummed, looking at him before looking back at the three girls that now stunned looked at you. “he’s just too cute, isn’t he?” you took his face with one of your hands, making his lips pout out. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and widened eyes. you smiled at him, his cheeks flushing at your words and the way your body just pushed closer against his. “but he’s mine.” you crooked your head towards the girls. “so if you don’t mind…”

“actually i do mind.” the brunette said. and your eyebrows rose. “i don’t see your name branded on him.” you slowly pulled away from spencer, getting on your feet.

you smiled softly at her. spencer didn’t like it one bit. you never smiled. not like that. “what’s your name?”

“ashley.” she answered, and you saw spencer getting up get beside your from the side of your eyes as you gave her a once over, your eyes landing on her pool heels. he was cautious, he knew something was wrong. sweet intelligent spencer…

“i like your shoes.” you started, simple, and she looked confused at you. “you gonna… be able to run in those?” you inquired.

“what?” and before she knew what was happening you were launching yourself towards her. good timing spencer was fast enough to catch you in between his arms as her friends pulled her away, running from you with ‘let’s go!’s.

“yeah, that’s more like it. see you, ashley!!!” you said while fighting spencer’s tight hold on you. “bitch…” you murmured when they got lost into the hotel. he let you go when you had seemingly calmed down and stared at you.

“what was that?”

“what? she was being a bitch.” you shrugged and got back to your sun lounge.

“no. i mean. what was that?”

“reid. i’m supposed to be your girlfriend… don’t you think that’s how a girlfriend would act?” you inquired him, and he looked around, scratching his nape.

“i mean, yeah but…” you cut him off.

“then it’s settled.” you said before closing your eyes and getting back with your sun.

he stared at you, still in shock and with flushed cheeks. his mind got filled with images and moments from the last days; you in the pool the night you’d thrown him in, how you had teased him, how your lips had almost touched his, last night at the beach when you had fallen on top of him… and now… seeing you that way, had done… things to him. things he didn’t want to accept. his whole body was tense, his heart was stuttering, his eyes whole face was red, and his stomach was feeling bubbly and… well. okay. no. enough.

he cleared his throat and sat down beside you, retrieving his book, trying to dismiss the knot in his throat. he looked at you. at your slowly tanning skin, the shine it had due to the oil you had bathed yourself in, your beautiful curves accentuated by the white bikini you’d gone for today, your soft features, your long lashes, your plump lips, your soft jaw, the soft skin of your neck, your…

when his eyes dropped too low he looked away, clearing his throat.

he tried to go back to the russian, but he was flustered. after minutes of trying to get back in focus, he gave up, getting up and pulling his shirt off, what caught your attention.

“where are you going?” you inquired.

“i was gonna go for a swim.” he pointed to the pool, and you sprung up.

“i’ll join you.” you smiled, and his heart stuttered at the recurring memories of that night in the pool. let it go, spencer.

following him into the water, you sigh at the fresh feeling of it engulfing you and making your overheated skin find solace.

spencer dampens his hair, pushing it backwards in a slick manner that exposes his strong cheek bones. but it’s when you finally stop staring at him that you notice it.

his breath hitched when your arms surrounded his neck, pulling him closer, your chest pressed against his as you spun in the water.

“what are you doing?” he inquired you, his hands subconsciously grabbing your hips. to push you away? to pull you closer? who knew…

“your twelve o’ clock. i think it’s our guy.” you muttered in his ear swiftly, smiling at him as if you were absolutely smitten, playing with his hair. spencer looked just for a moment. it was a white male, in his late thirties, wearing glasses and a cap, staring straight at the two of you with clenched fists.

“he surely doesn’t look happy.” he muttered to you, pulling you closer. “looks like it might be him.” you hummed. “what should we do?”

“well you should definitely act like you love me.” you smiled, cupping his cheek. “like this…” you looked straight into his eyes, and his breath hitched. if he didn’t knew better you’d have fooled him, ‘cause you were looking at him as if you craved nothing else, no one else but him.

you almost chocked when one of his hands found your hair, his breath pressing against your neck just before his lips did. “does this work?” he inquired you, pressing another chaste kiss on the sensitive skin.

you had to come and get back your trail of thought, ‘cause he had stolen it away just that easy. it was unnerving.

“you tell me. you’re the one facing him.” you whispered, and he hummed against your skin. you had to pretend as if it y didn’t send shivers down your spine.

“he’s just staring.” he stated.

“he wouldn’t dare do something with this much people around.” you figured.

“or maybe he just doesn’t want to taint his image before you. he wants to meet you in the perfect way, perfect place, perfect time.”

“what a romantic…” you rolled your eyes.

“he’s moving.” spencer announced.

“leaving?” you inquired and he nodded, his soft stubble scratching your neck and making you shudder in his arms.

“seems like it.” once out of sight he let you go, and you looked away from his eyes, the imprint of his hold on your hips still lingering on your skin, his kisses still burning your neck.

“he won’t be able to hold on for much longer...”

you nodded, fidgeting. “i’ll… i’ll go tell the team.”

“yeah. okay.” spencer copies your shake of head, and you got out of the pool, his eyes training on your back and down your body before he caught himself staring, quickly looking away and pushing his hair back anxiously. he could still feel the softness of your skin, smell the coconut tanning oil you’d lathered yourself in, remember how right you’d feel in between his arms, taking whatever he gave you…

he sighed. get it together reid.

but he had to spend a while in the water to properly calm down before making his way back to you. this was gonna end badly.

dinner with spencer was easy. it was a warm night. and he looked good. with a blue button up shirt and white pants along with his brown shoes. it was easy to talk to him, even easier to let him pay and let him walk you by his hand through the hotel and into the gardens of it. it was so easy to live this lovers lie that it terrified you. the moon and stars were shining bright above your heads, and the silence that filled the distance in between the two of you was as comfortable as it could get.

that was until he was breaking it to stutter about theories of the universe. theories you already knew. but for once you decided to keep quiet and listen to his rambling, enjoying the way his eyes sparkled with knowledge, the way his lips curled into a smile with every little fact that spilled from them…your heart was hammering inside your chest. it has been since the time in the pool. you were scared he could feel your heartbeat by how tight he was holding your hand. you’d come to understand that he wasn’t that bad. sure, he sometimes could get under your skin and make you lose your temper, but spencer reid could be as soft as a feather when he wanted to, and that made it all even worse. you were used to his narcissism, to his hatred, not to his ‘love’. was this how he really was or just another lie? just another façade? you were haunted by the feelings that this side of him flourished in your body.

“there’s someone following you.” since the spotting in the pool, the team had made sure to give you an earpiece each to communicate with you in case of emergency. jj’s voice made spencer’s waver, but to play along he just pulled you closer and continued with his theories. “seems like the man you told us about, y/n.”

you two slowly stopped walking, looking at each other as he kept talking, waiting for orders.

“he stopped. he’s just… watching.” emily announced and you inquired spencer and the team.

“what should we do? he’s not gonna come to us that easily…”

“reid, kiss her.” hotch ordered and his eyes widened, breath hitching and his hold on your hand hardening.

“what? no! i’m not going to kiss her!” he whispered-yelled, completely astonished.

“the physical contact will drive him to approach you both. we’ll be right there.” morgan chirped in, trying to convince his friend, soothe his anxiety. but spencer wasn’t scared of the unsub. he was scared of you. terrified. terrified by how good it felt to have you this close, to hold your hand, to see your smile, to share time with you… he wondered if this last thing would make him crack. would make him understand that it wasn’t hatred all along. he wasn’t sure he was ready to know the truth.

“there must be another way, i-“ he tried, but you groaned at his hesitation, taking the matter into your own hands.

“for the love of god, reid.” you grabbed at his curly hair, and in a tug, you pulled him down against your mouth. he froze at first, surprised, in shock at the soft feeling of your lips against his, at the feeling of your chest tightly pressed against him. but then it all completely changes, he can’t get enough. he cupped yor face in between his warm hands and pulled you closer, until there was no space between you two, something he must hate, but only finds himself enjoying. you gasp into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue inside, pushing you against the wall of the hotel, devouring you as if he had been waiting years for this moment. you were air. and he was drowning.

“slow down…” you breathily moan against his lips, and he groans.

“i can’t.” he confessed.

the kiss that follows is just as desperate and harsh, your tongues dancing around the other as he kisses you like you’re everything he’s ever craved. you feel him press against you, and the feeling of a bulge on his crotch surprises you.

“you seem to be enjoying this a little bit too much, reid.” you said with a smirk as you felt his growing erection pushing against your thigh to find solace, some friction, anything to make him feel better. he’s losing control, he knows. but he looks into your dazed eyes and he knows you are falling just as hard. he hopes the fall doesn’t hurt as bad as his heart right now.

“i hate you.” he muttered against your lips.

“say it like you mean it.” and before he could kiss you again, the sound of a gun being loaded sounded.

“get away from her.” a male voice filled your ears and spencer stepped away from you, leaving you cold, confused and in need of more you thought you’d never crave. “get away!” he repeated pointing at him with the gun.

“okay, okay… calm down…” he softly said, taking a couple of steps away from you.

“how do you dare touch her?!” he screamed. he seemed scattered. “nobody should touch her. she’s mine!”

“no, she’s not.” spencer said just as morgan knocked the unsub to the ground, a shot being fired, the bulled burying itself inches away from you on the wall. he was quick to reach out for you as you looked down at yourself. “are you okay?” he inquired, taking your face, inspecting it.

“don’t touch her!” the man screamed again as you nodded.

“easy!” morgan yelled as he cuffed him up.

“yeah… i’m alright.” you muttered and spencer nodded, looking right into your eyes. you could still see his flushed cheeks, and his swollen wet lips, could see traces of you left behind. you wanted to taste him again. and again. and again. until the only thing you could remember was him and his lips, and the feeling of his body pressing against you.

that night. something changes. and it scares not only your bones, but your soul as well.

1K notes · View notes

drchucktingle · 8 months

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Chuck, how do you deal with people who are rude about you and your work? I write queer romance and I want to put my writing out there for people to read, but I'm a very sensitive person and I know it will be hard not to take insults personally and let them affect me. I don't want to let that stop me from expressing myself and sharing my art, but I'm scared!

very good question buckaroo. i am a good example of this as pretty much EVERYONE was rude about my work for many years calling it 'so bad its good' (it is just good) and 'terrible photoshop' (i think it has a great and instantly recognizable style) and 'intentionally stupid premises' (i dont think there is anything stupid about sex being fun and whimsical and playful). even these days the reaction of the VAST majority of buckaroos who discover chuck have this reaction AT FIRST, and then learn to appreciate the tingleverse in a more sincere way over time.

all that is to say BEING DOUBTED HAS WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR ME. art that changes meaning over time can be very powerful, so if someones initial reaction to my trot is one thing and then it evolves into another thing, well that is just good art. while it can feel bad to get a bad review, i would say a bad review just means you have entered a realm of tension and change and discord and WE ARE TALKIN ABOUT ART BUD so that, in itself, is very exciting.

i think of what i do as 'punk writing', and a big part of that means pushing against preconceived sensibilities. not many other authors will proudly say 'there SHOULD be some spelling errors in my erotic shorts because i wrote it in a day and edited it once. that is the FEELING i want to create', but that is my way. by creating what is in my soul i KNOW i am going to bother some buckaroos and that is okay.

now i am NOT assuming you are also doing punk writing (that is okay of course we all have our own styles. what i am doing with tinglers is pretty rare), but it still stands to remember that there are 7.8 billion people on the planet of this dang timeline and some of them are bound to be bothered by your creations. that is not a problem, that is just part of baring your authentic self.

the other thing to remember is theres no REAL right or wrong in art. it can be analyzed in different ways and i tend to look at it in a way of comparing intention to result, but even THAT is not strictly correct. therefore any bad review of something you make is not actually BAD it is just someones information and feedback for you to take or leave. a one star review is just another opinion, it is no more right or wrong than your own opinion, and that is wonderful. it is freeing.

if i see a bad review of my own book, lets just say CAMP DAMASCUS for instance, i do not get upset because i know this: that reviewer is not wrong. camp damascus is five stars for me, but it is one star for someone else AND THAT IS OK. THAT IS THE WAY IT SHOULD BE. THAT IS GREAT ART. also MAYBE THEY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO. just because i wrote the book does not mean i am the authority on it, and the conversation and tension between those that enjoy something and those that despise it is a creative act. the audience engaging with your work is just your art emerging from its cocoon and saying 'here i am. lets see where i flutter off to now'

do not fear the river of this timeline sweeping away your creations and carrying them where it will. this is inevitable, but it is also beautiful and freeing. you cannot swim against it and that is okay bud, because YOU HAVE ALREADY WON. you have already created something and given a piece of yourself back to this timeline and that is a great honor and privilege. it is literally all there is

by creating ANYTHING you are proving love is real, and that is something to be proud of

#buckaroo lifestyle #art #creation #chuck tingle

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plutolovesyou · 5 months

Text

how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not.

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual.

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now.

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up.

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks.

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her.

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with.

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.”

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile.

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.”

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face.

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.”

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register.

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals.

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed.

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could.

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow.

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience.

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies.

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future.

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard.

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone.

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission.

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself.

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course.

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire.

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder.

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything.

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be?

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you.

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because.

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now.

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil.

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?”

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?”

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point.

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over.

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often.

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously.

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her.

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment.

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now.

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears.

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.”

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.”

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time.

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed.

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever.

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz.

lovely taggies: @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @amiorca @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @smelliewilliams @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms @ap3arll @bunnyrose01 @elliesactualgirlfriend @paranoiero @sakiigami @4ftergloww @ellstronaut @vqxen @desireesfics @lez-zuha @dyk3ang3l @iluvellie0089 @tphmnv @seraphicsentences @seaseasalts @biblically-accurate-ellie @deliriousrn @pxterpfx + a very special tag to @fleshunger hehe :)

if i wasn't able to tag you, investigate the issue somewhere in your settings!

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elder-millennial-of-zion · 5 months

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I miss the days, way back when before October 7, when I felt like I was part of leftist circles. I miss feeling energised by leftist slogans because I thought they included me, instead of targeted me.

I miss hearing “eat the rich” and not hearing it as a dog whistle for “kill the Jews.” I miss feeling inspired by phrases like “our struggles for liberation are all connected,” instead of hearing its real meaning, “the Jews are the evil puppet masters behind everything and the world must unite against them.” I miss believing that when leftists talked about punching up at their oppressors, it wasn’t just an excuse to punch down at more vulnerable minorities that they decided were their oppressors despite all evidence to the contrary.

I miss the days when the left poured into the streets to protest cops and corporations instead of protesting Jews. I miss updating myself on those protests so I could join them, instead of to know which areas to avoid because they’ll be Judenrein for the day.

I don’t wish my eyes hadn’t been opened. I’d much rather see the truth no matter how painful and disillusioning it is, because the alternative isn’t actually “bliss.” It’s having a perpetual nagging feeling that something’s off but I can’t put my finger on it, or if I can then I must be overreacting or imagining it’s worse than it is.

But that pain and disillusionment is very real. That loss is very real. It was a community I thought I belonged to, a community I put a lot of work and energy into for many years, and there is grief at the loss of it. Grief that it’s gone, grief that it never was what it claimed to be in the first place. I guess I’m grieving the loss of that part of my identity. And grieving the loss of how people I thought were my friends and allies perceive my identity. Grieving the illusion that they were ever my allies at all, that they ever would be my allies if I needed. Because I haven’t really changed, but the way my former circles look at me completely changed. People who thought I was a good person and a good ally on October 6 decided I was the devil incarnate very literally overnight.

The person who privately reached out to me a few years ago to thank me for a Facebook post I made defending sex workers, because as a former sex worker they appreciated it. Now they’ve been posting antisemitic blood libel, the kind of rhetoric that’s already gotten Jews killed, for six months straight. I tried to tell them how much pain it causes me as a Jew to see their posts, and they only doubled down. It truly is their loss. I was a good friend and a good ally, and they threw me away because I’m a Jew. But it’s totally not because I’m a Jew, it’s because I’m the evil kind of Jew, the kind that just so happens to be the profile of ninety percent of the Jewish population.

I’m grateful I have such a strong sense of Jewish identity, because otherwise the loss of identity in this other way would be far more destabilising. I get why so many people cling to their political identities no matter how much cognitive dissonance they have to wave away; why they insist their ideology is righteous no matter how much evidence to the contrary. Without any other solid identity they would feel too adrift. But that doesn’t excuse their behavior. It’s not ok to jump on a bandwagon to persecute and kill Jews because you want to belong to something that badly, because you can’t handle your sense of self evolving with all the growing pains that come with it.

So many progressive Jews like myself have described ourselves as “politically homeless.” (Specifically in the diaspora; I know the political framework in Israel is completely different.) We can let ourselves sit in that grief. Being homeless is painful and uncomfortable, but it’s better than staying in an abusive home.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #anti zionism is antisemitism #politically homeless Jews #israel #jumblr

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physalian · 6 months

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What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #scifi #what no one tells you about writing

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pirateprincessblog · 1 year

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Strawberry Mocha

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jung wooyoung x reader, ft yunho 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 24.7k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: barista!wooyoung, student!reader, camboy!wooyoung, virgin!reader, hopelesslyinlove!yunho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, mutual masturbation, sexting, public oral, public fingering, blindfold, slight bondage, toys, edging

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, v-card loss, angst on yunho's side 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: pussy drunk wooyo idk man also i imagine wooyo as bouncy wooyo here with that hot ass hair purr but make it oreo like he had it in aotm

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫s 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

nsfw link(s): one

anastasya wants to chat! click here to see one new message.

"hello, gorgeous. want to see my pussy?" - tina, less than 10 km away.

luciano is more than ready to show you the 8th world wonder.

"close. close. close." your words are synchronized with the clicking of your mouse. with each minute passing, each click is getting more aggressive.

sick and tired of all the sex ads interrupting your studying over an illegally found textbook, you bury your head into your pillow. your back hurts from laying on your stomach for hours, but it is the only position that helps you with period cramps. the laptop makes a noise again, one you've heard enough of for the last few hours.

"i really don't want to fuck you, nick." you whine, clicking at the x in the corner of the new ad. when it opens three new tabs, all you can do is groan and close the laptop. you have an exam tomorrow, today is your first day of the period, which means tomorrow it's going to be worse, and to make things better, you are bombarded with photos of nude men and women, with attached locations, chat boxes and quotes. you feel sick.

yet again, you have just a little more of this lesson left, and if you could manage to spend so many hours fighting the virus bots, you can do it for ten more minutes. all out of motivation and will to live, you turn the laptop back on. the screen brightness almost blinds you, you forget how dark it has become and how bright your screen is. your eyes skim over the words, your brain so focused on focusing, that you forget to focus. you are frustrated, in pain, your hair is so greasy you could model it like clay, and your are nails half bitten off.

three minutes until your sleeping schedule starts, and five more long paragraphs to read. taking a deep breath, you click the arrow to scroll. as if the laptop is mocking you, it delivers you another message.

wooyoung (23), offers both mental and physical relief. check it out!

the ad flashes across the whole screen, the x not even visible on this one. you don't feel anything anymore. you've gone completely numb. accepted your fate. this will be your reminder to not study the last day ever again. you stare at the pink letters, then the picture on the side of it. it shows a young man, and oddly enough, not all oiled up and naked on it. it is a selfie, and in it he lays on the bed in the same position as you. how odd, to put a normal and clothed person on a sex ad.

"fuck it."

you drag the arrow over the highlighted letters, sighing. months, maybe even a whole year spent without a sexual contact. you didn't crave it. nothing in real life turned you on. maybe you didn't pay enough attention. maybe you've overgrown simple flirting and poor tries of having one night stands at parties. maybe all those young adult fantasy books on your shelves have raised your standards. looking back at the things that used to get you going makes you cringe. you've evolved from poorly acted out porn videos, to pages full of dark haired morally grey characters, blindfolds, leather gloves, candle wax, and whatnot.

you have yet to try out anything other than poor rubbings over the jeans you've received, not even orgasming. one night, three whole minutes of a drunk guy almost irritating your skin from harsh rubs, and a fake moan later, you start to wonder if you're the problem. proposing the idea of anything other than missionary and oral would make you the weird one, especially since you're a virgin. men here are shallow, and would rather jerk off to an amateur movie than try to match your standards and make the whole thing actually enjoyable.

the link you've clicked on doesn't open multiple tabs like the previous ones did. instead, it opens a single site, which first asks you to register and confirm your age. eager to see if the man in the picture was really the one offering such services, you log in with your google account, which unknowingly to you, used your picture and real name to set up the new account. your notes and pens are discarded on the floor, and your focus is on the man currently showing off his rings.

his hands are veiny, that is the first thing you notice. decorated with silver rings, nails neatly trimmed, with the pinky one painted black, and fingers oddly satisfying to look at. he brushes those same fingers through his hair, making it change colour for a split second. you notice that he is half blonde, which just makes you realize that sleep is not an option tonight. at least not yet.

"anyone want to open today's topic before i start?" he offers, scrolling through the comments.

you watch as people comment various topics and requests, the main one being for him to start touching himself already. for a sex cam, he does quite a lot of talking. maybe that's why you haven't left the site yet, but are staring at the way his teeth are biting his lip while his eyes focus on the bright screen.

"your friends are shaming you for having a threesome?" he reads out loud, then sighs. "they're probably virgins. or inexperienced girls who got fucked once then dumped. only they shame people for their sexual desires. they have no creativity at all. i can't imagine jerking off with just my hand anymore. feels bland. don't worry about them."

your fingers are quicker than your brain, and before you even register it, you hit send.

a soft laugh travels to your ears, and you just know it's because of your comment.

"you beg to differ?" he says, brushing his hair back again. he takes a moment to think. his rings shine under the dimmed lights, and you can't help but wonder how it would be to feel that cool sensation on your body.

you'd love to have him feel you up and down with this rings on, a cold contrast on your hot skin. you wouldn't budge if he were to put that hand against your neck, giving it light squeezes just enough to give you a thrill. you'd even let him do it in front of that camera of his, make all of these thirsty girls jealous because you're the one moaning his name. shit, you're really into him. or rather this whole situation. and he hasn't done a single sexual gesture.

"a virgin on my page. interesting." the young man hums, his eyebrows scrunched. "isn't life boring as a virgin? i mean, what do you do?"

i study, you're quick to reply again.

"i meant sexually, love." he laughs, somewhat fondly.

was it that obvious that you're a virgin? your cheeks feel hot, and you now wish to exit the page. but by doing that, you'll just prove him right. he'll make fun of you too, just like he did to those friends. you sigh. he doesn't know who you are, so it doesn't matter. you'll be honest, and maybe he'll give you a solution.

using hands isn't that boring

"ever tried a toy? or a person?"

tried a person. got disappointed.

"ah, what a shame. let me guess, gave you blisters from rubbing?"

oh just how did you know?

"poor thing," he coos, "if you had come to the right person, i would've given you just what you need."

the words come out raspy, and there's a sudden change on his face. you wonder if you said anything wrong. if he was thinking about banning you. but instead, a notification pops up in the corner of your screen.

wooyoung has sent you a message request!

oh.

"anyways, let's move on. am i in a hotel? ah, no. i recently moved houses, this will be my new filming room now. not as special as the previous one, but i need time to decorate it."

he keeps talking, eyes glancing at his phone every now and then, as if expecting you to answer right away. you are shaking, your head feels dizzy, and you find it hard to swallow. was he going to tell you privately to fuck off of his site? how embarrassing that would be. you wouldn't ever recover.

wooyoung has sent you a message request!

two of them now, yet you're still debating whether or not to exit and delete your browsing history. it won't hurt to look. you don't have to reply. you can just take a peek, leave him on read, and fuck out of there. it's not like he will see you on the street tomorrow. he could be on a whole different continent, and yet, he could be five houses away from you. either way, you're feeling vulnerable. those messages are either humiliation, or something entirely different. both of those make you feel uneasy.

then again, this is the only thing that sparked something inside you in these few months of feeling burnt out from reading all that erotica. the only difference is, this is happening. really happening. a whole man is in your chat, while he has an ongoing sex stream with more than five thousand people watching and commenting. and so when you say fuck it, you mean it.

wooyoung: ever tried an innocent soft little pillow?

wooyoung: guaranteed, feels better than a horny teenage boy.

your breathing is shallow, and you fear that you might collapse. his next message contains a phone number, and then, you watch him drop the phone on his bed. his focus is now on the camera, and the way his eyes stare into the lens, makes you feel as if they're searching for you. deciding to further test the waters, and see if he is just trying to have a little fun, or if he really has taken an ounce of interest in an inexperienced watcher, you send a text back.

he stops mid sentence, glancing at his phone. he fails to hide a smirk, and you're not sure whether it is the one of amusement or mocking.

am I, a boring old virgin, good enough for a pillow?

being a virgin doesn't mean you're all that innocent. quite the opposite, in your friend group, you are the one who leaves them all shocked when you speak of your desires. yet, who guarantees that this guy can accomplish what you want? they all want to "rock your world", show you how "good" it can be, until the make-out session is over and they come in their pants from simple dry humping. and you? who cares about if you came. your job is done the moment they come to their senses, and you are left to your growing disappointment in young men your age again.

wooyoung: does the boring old virgin know how to use one? perhaps some assistance is needed?

you swallow. you've never used anything other than your hand before. for someone with such a creative mind, you were quite a bore when it comes to pleasing yourself. you were used to your own touch, and you desperately needed someone else to fill the spot.

you glance at the screen. he is now holding something in his hand. it's clear, and long, and you're not sure if you've seen that before. your mind doesn't get enough time to form a thought, because he sticks two fingers in his mouth. he swirls the tongue around them, coating them until they're shimmering like the rings. sensually slow, he takes them out, making sure to give the camera a dreamy gaze. he turns the gadget towards the camera, and just when you figure out what it is, he brings his wet fingers to the hole in the toy. he circles the entrance, causing your tights to squeeze. you are so mesmerized by the way he slowly inserts his fingers into the toy, that you don't realize you are almost panting.

"need to prepare her for me." he says, giving it a few slow pumps.

you can almost feel his fingers on your cunt, he is just that good at this. each pump of his fingers sends a wave of butterflies straight to your abdomen. it's so painful, to be horny on your period. otherwise you would've came twice by now.

"think I've prepared her enough?"

comments are flooded with positive feedback, and the young man smirks. he readjusts the camera, and sits with his back against the bed frame. he wears short sweatpants, perfectly showing off his not so humble size. he takes his sweet time to undo the knot on them, driving the watchers (including you) insane. he laughs at the comments, and decides it's enough teasing.

"for all the virgins here tonight," he says, then glances at his phone.

finally, he pulls his sweats down. his cock find its place in his hand, not allowing you to take a better look. wooyoung gives himself a few slow strokes, head falling against the headboard as he does so. he hums, licking his fingers and pressing them against his cock. you have stopped breathing. his gaze is fixed on the lens, eyelids half closed, and breathing shallow. your eyes watch his movements, carefully documenting and engraving them in your brain so you can replay them for the next few weeks. he takes the toy, sliding it on his cock. your mouth drops when you see the absolute relief on his face, followed by an eyeroll and a deep moan. you figure that the toy serves him as a fake pussy. why a fake one, when he can have anyone he likes? his watchers must get jealous. you would be too, if you saw someone so hot that gives you such attention fuck someone else.

a few strokes in, and he is already bucking his hips upwards and moaning. wet noises travel to your ears, paired with multiple curses and sighs. suddenly, he sits up, grabbing two pillows from behind his back. he places a pillow on the mattress, the toy, then another pillow on top of all that. you almost gasp when you see him spit on his fingers, rubbing his cock, then slowly insert it into the toy. he grabs the pillows, then plunges his hips into it. he groans, and stays inside for a moment. then, he starts off with slow thrusts.

you've read so much about rough sex, that you didn't even think about the sensual side of it. how good it must be to savour every caress, every lick and every stroke. to actually take your time, like he is taking it with a simple toy. to be at his mercy for hours, what you'd give. helpless, deprived of senses, only him and you. you feel your heartbeat slow down as he stares into the lens, hips moving with such pace that has your stomach almost exploding.

overwhelmed by the situation unfolding in front of you, you shut your laptop down. you see your face on the black screen; cheeks puffed, pupils dilated, and mouth dry. fuck, what was that? did you just watch live porn? and did you interact with the person doing it? you check the time, and with a loud groan, you place the laptop on the floor and roll over. you have so little time to get some quality sleep, yet you're wide awake. your studying is nowhere near done, and you just know that a prayer won't save you tomorrow. from the exam, nor from the cramps.

surprisingly, you passed the exam. everything you've read last night managed to stick to your brain, despite the crazy situation that had interrupted you. you have already forgotten about it. when you woke up, it all seemed like a part of your dream. a very real dream. today, you didn't have time to think about it. your hair is a greasy mess, and an oversized hoodie hangs from your shoulders, covering your bloated stomach. you've dreamed about a cup of your favorite pink beverage all morning, and when the clock finally showed a sweet number four, you were the first one to run out of the building. your phone lays forgotten at the bottom of your backpack, mind too cluttered with the upcoming projects and cramps.

the coffee shop isn't as busy for a monday morning, and the timing is just right. you cannot stand anymore, so when you get next in line, you are relieved. you take a good look at the menu above the counter, happy that you've made it through such a tough morning.

"good day, how can i help you?"

your smile fades as quick as it arrives. you feel like all the blood in your body has pooled down in your feet, making it hard to move.

"oh, do you need to sit down? you look very..." the voice pauses, and you can feel an intense gaze on your face, before he continues "...pale."

you drop your gaze, slowly, feeling like the person is going to catch on if you do it in normal pace. right in front of you, stands the man who you watched fuck a pillow last night. he is very much real, not a fruit of your imagination combined with exhaust. he smiles sweetly, showing you towards a chair. you don't move. instead, you blink, and let your mouth run.

"i'll have the strawberry mocha please."

he scrunches his eyebrows, but begins to tap on his screen anyway.

"whipp-?"

"with whipped cream, thanks. just, uh, extra syrup. and pearl sprinkles."

he raises an eyebrow, looking at you suspiciously. you can't tell if it's because of your relation to his odd interaction last night, or simply because you are acting weird.

"that'll be-"

you interrupt again, pressing your credit card to the gadget near the cash register, eyes not leaving the wooden surface. with behaviour like this, he will soon figure out why you are acting this way. you must stop, before you embarrass yourself more.

"name?"

"anna," you blurt out, just in case.

"right," you think you hear him scoff, and if it weren't for your brain slowing down with each second, you would've asked what's so funny.

once he types in everything he needs, he points towards an empty section, gesturing you to take a seat. sitting on that chair has never been more uncomfortable for you. you feel like you sat on thorns, and no matter how you adjust, you are just making annoying creaking noises.

you glance at the man behind the counter. a lump forms in your throat as your eyes scan his hand movements. he is invested in the shaker, fingers skillfully moving it in the air. your concentration gets stolen by his face, loose strands falling on it eyes focused on the drink, and eyebrows scrunched. even if he was a aware of you staring, (you doubt he didn't notice), he doesn't spare you a glance. he pours the drink into the iced cup, spilling a little on his fingers and on the counter. you follow his hand, which takes a straw and drops it into the cup, and then moves towards his mouth. your breath stops in your throat, and your eyes almost drop on the floor.

he sticks the two wet fingers in his mouth, slowly, and looks up right at you. he catches you red handed, or better said, red cheeked. you're flustered by his hot, unprofessional, but hot move. and as if that wasn't enough, he has the audacity to maintain eyecontact as he brings you your beverage, a slight smirk dancing on his lips.

"your drink, anna."

"thank you, woo-" you freeze.

idiot. fucking idiot.

"ah, you managed to read my name tag."

he saves you, perhaps unknowingly. the amount of attention that his hands are gaining from you should be concerning, yet you still can't stop admiring those strangely attractive veins peeking from under his rolled up sleeve, going all the way to the fingers which are fixing the name tag.

"wooyoung, your shift ended ten minutes ago!" the voice behind the counter calls.

"oops." he snickers, then makes his way towards the counter, allowing you to take a look at his back too.

the thin white shirt is a little tight on his body, just enough to show off quite a few lines on his back. funnily enough, even though you've seen him naked, something about those clothes giving you a teaser is much more of a button pusher for you. the anticipation and buildup were always more interesting to you than the actual thing they lead to.

you laugh at yourself. as if any of that is going to happen to you any time soon. deciding you've spent enough time out of your comfy apartment today, you decide to put a lid on your coffee and leave the shop. at the door, someone tries to get out before you, but once they realize it's a bit tight for both, two hands gently find their way on your waist. a strong scent of jasmine washes over your senses, warm and firm body pressed against your back.

"oh, watch it, love."

and with that, you stand on the entrance, watching the familiar man run off to his car, the barista apron resting over his shoulder.

wooyoung: disconnected mid show?

wooyoung: was it too overwhelming for your first time?

wooyoung: shame, i put my all into that orgasm, only to see you disconnected long ago

you are rolling in your bed, listening to the messages that are being read out loud by your very best friend. disbelief evident in his voice, he reads, over and over. you haven't yet replied, and having an actual encounter with him today didn't make it easier for you to do so.

"he's, like, a hundred percent real?"

"he very much is."

"are you sure? because ai is getting very scary these days-"

"yunho." you sit up, face inches away from him. "i stood this close to him."

the tips of his ears turn red, and you manage to catch a single glance he sends towards your lips. you ignore it, trying to convince yourself that if you do not notice, it will not happen. his behaviour will stop.

"he is very much real."

"o-okay," he stutters, turning his head sideways as to avoid being caught staring again, "so what now?"

"i don't know. what is there to do? he's just some porn guy, and i was just an accidental watcher. nothing is going to happen."

"and-"

your phone pings, as if knowing what yunho was about to ask.

"-the messages?"

"i'll just..." you stall, glancing at the phone and trying to see the notification, "...delete it all."

the man in front of you scoffs, believing in your words as much as you. he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket along the way.

"i'll see you in class tomorrow."

you only nod, feeling guilt pooling up at the bottom of your stomach. yet, as soon as you hear the door shut, you grab your phone. indeed, messages from wooyoung are taking up your phone screen.

wooyoung: out of curiosity, you didn't happen to try the pillow thing?

wooyoung: need to borrow mine?

you bite your lip, and your eyes fall on the pile of pillows yunho used to make himself comfortable.

i haven't tried it. and no, i have four of them.

wooyoung: shame. bet they'd love to be suffocated between your legs.

you choke on your spit, eyes skimming over the message multiple times.

that one of your fetishes? being suffocated with female tights?

wooyoung: you have no idea.

a few minutes pass,and you are thinking of various replies to send to him. do you keep talking to him? do you start flirting? is this considered flirting? if yes, are you doing a good job? a few more minutes pass before your phone dings again, wooyoung interrupting your thinking process.

wooyoung: well, i see that you're extremely disinterested in my tries of communication, so i shall just leave you be. hope my actions and i weren't overwhelming for you. if that's the case, my sincere apologies. you're always welcome to my lives though.

wooyoung: oh, and good luck studying!

"no, no," you whisper, seeing the online tag under his name disappear. your lack of communication with actual confident men and your awkwardness in general made him back off. it all felt too real to be true, but it was real. and you let it slip away. your only chance at gaining experience and living out your fantasies.

i'm not disinterested!

shit, you shouldn't have sent that exclamation mark. he will think you are desperate now. he doesn't reply, nor does the tag under his name reappear. you wait, minutes, half an hour, just rolling on the bed and switching between apps, trying to see if he at least went online. maybe he only read it from his notifications, and that wasn't enough to make him come back. you pick up the last few ounces of desperation you have left, and grab a pillow. you sit on it, crushing it between your legs, and pull your oversized hoodie just enough to cover your bottom and expose your thighs. you have discarded the pants the moment you entered the house, already used to walking around in yunho's old comfy boxers. you snap a picture, once, then twice, until you are satisfied with the angle and all the details that he may not even notice; like your chipped nail polish or the messy notes from yunho's studying.

instantly, wooyoung comes back online. he begins typing, then stops. he types again, and stops once more. you are biting your nails, regretting already. now that he knows how desperate you are, he will lose interest in you. you would too if you were him. you zoom into the picture, trying to figure out if anything is wrong with it.

wooyoung saved the picture in the chat!

oh.

wooyoung: fuck, that's

wooyoung: wow

wooyoung: those are the smoothest and softest thighs i've ever seen in my life

wooyoung: you know when you look at something and you know the texture of it? i bet i could just sink between them just like that pillow

wooyoung: could you ride that for me, angel?

the nickname sends arrows to your core, and you gulp. he knows his way with words, and you are so here for it. you can feel yourself dripping, and not from what you're supposed to drip from. your horny levels hit the sky on your period, and oh, how convenient that all of this is happening on the second day of it. he doesn't have to know, you could keep him hooked, until your period is done. but then what? what guarantees that he will not lose interest once he has a little fun with you with all the dirty talk?

your hands work against your brain, and soon enough, you are grinding on the soft material, one hand holding the phone and the other one covering your mouth so that no noises come out of it. if it feels good with so many layers on you, how good can it feel with your bare clit rubbing against it?

wooyoung: atta girl

wooyoung: feel good?

you only moan at the praise he delivers you, hips speeding up the pace.

yes, you manage to quickly type in.

wooyoung: can you type and work it? is it hard for my good girl to multitask?

you set the phone aside, focusing entirely on the object between your legs. you roll your hips, dedicated to chasing the sweet pleasure that has abandoned you for so long. at the memory of his skilled hips last night, the orgasm washes over you so quickly. his choice of words significantly sped up the process, and you aren't to complain. you take your time to calm your breathing, before taking the phone in your hands again. it was new, and different, but most importantly, fucking good.

the euphoria doesn't last long, the look of horror replacing the one of pure bliss on your face. right under wooyoung's message stood yours.

voice message sent.

it is you shamelessly whimpering and grunting, mere four seconds of it, yet enough to make wooyoung save it in the chat.

wooyoung: is it christmas already?

wooyoung: i keep getting present after present. what did i do to deserve it?

wooyoung: i better go fix the problem you've created.

wooyoung has sent a picture! tap to view.

the picture is dark, but there is just enough lighting for you to see his defined v-line and the bulge in his sweatpants. you bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile. you made someone horny. not just anyone, but wooyoung, a porn creator. he has surely seen lots of things, how come a fully clothed picture and a four second audio could get him in the mood?

you have saved the picture in the chat!

in the next few days, you ask yunho to pick up the beverage from the coffee shop while you grab something to eat. he is happy that you started including breakfast in your day, and isn't yet aware that you are only avoiding the man he also knew about. perhaps wooyoung worked different shifts, and they didn't have an encounter yet? it's a bit cruel towards yunho, but you can't make yourself go in there. not until you've grown some dignity.

today, yunho isn't here. he has only answered to your message, saying that he has a flu, and that he will be resting for a day or two. which leaves you to getting the coffee on your own. you run from the rain, your umbrella broken and swimming away somewhere down the road. you would've picked it up and threw it away, really, if that lighting wasn't so close to you and you started running for your life. you are soaked, the hoodie stuck to your skin and the shorts uncomfortable and heavy. you hurriedly enter the coffee shop and exhale, the warmth of the place caressing your cold cheeks. you notice the place is empty, and the chairs are neatly tucked under the tables. the surfaces have been freshly wiped, and no menus or decorations were on them.

you approach the counter, ready to grab your beverage and leave before you make a bigger mess. nobody is there, the syrups and coffee cans are neatly placed on the shelves, not a drop of water visible on the counters. your eyes notice a little board, with pink letters on it.

due to sudden illness of two out of three workers, we are forced to work short hours this week. thank you for understanding!

underneath, you see that they work until four in the afternoon. you check the time, and upon noticing that it is just two minutes before four, you sigh. you turn around, ready to leave and rid the poor worker of trouble after they already prepared the place for closing.

"oh, i'm terribly sorry, i didn't notice you!"

the voice makes your blood run cold, and once again, you find yourself frozen in spot. only this time, you are all alone with him. no people surrounding you. just him, you, and the crazy weather outside.

"please, feel free to order. you have a minute and a half to place it!"

you turn around, eyes locking with brown ones. he is smiling sweetly, pointing towards the menu above his head.

"i don't want to bother you. you've cleaned the whole place and-" your eyes drop on the see through shirt hugging his body "-you've already taken your apron off."

"luckily, my boss is sick too so she can't give me crap about it. i can make your drink without it."

you make your way towards the counter again, eyes skimming over the menu, knowing damn well what you're going to order. you just have to buy yourself time so you can calm down. the scent of jasmine is taking over your senses, creeping into your mind and bringing back memories you wish so hard to forget so you can move on with your life. he is tugging you into the void, and you have nothing to get you out of there. you haven't heard from him since the day you rode the pillow for him, and you didn't have time to watch any of his lives.

"well, then. i'll have a strawberry mocha."

"ah, so it's your usual then."

"yes. extra syrup. and the pearl sprinkles, please."

"and whipped cream, yes", he types in the order, then looks behind. "you know, we have some strawberry cupcakes that didn't sell today due to the weather. would you like one? on the house!"

you hesitate, not wanting to waste his time. he could be home by now, doing something important. like filming himself. or texting you after you've left him on seen. or better said, saved.

"i really don't want to waste your time."

"you're not wasting my time, trust me. besides, i'd rather stay here a little more until my phone finishes charging. i don't want to get stuck in that weather outside with no battery."

he sees you hesitate and eye up the pink pastries, desire obvious in your eyes. he chuckles, then brings the whole tray on the counter.

"tell you what," he grabs the items needed for your beverage, not breaking eye contact with you, "i'll make us two strawberry mochas, and we'll eat those cupcakes so they don't get wasted until the weather calms down. sound good?"

you gulp. the look on your face is a complete opposite of him, as well as your body language. he is relaxed, beaming with confidence, and has a smile on his lips. meanwhile, you are stiff, your face is blank, maybe even scared at the fact that you're gonna be alone with the man who made you cum without touching you. but when thunder echoes through the place, you agree.

it doesn't take him long to make them and bring them to your booth in the corner of the shop. the smell of strawberries is the only thing keeping you sane at the moment. he sits across from you, shirt half unbuttoned, as if it's the warmest day of the spring outside. he doesn't have a care in the world. he silently enjoys the cupcake, occasionally glancing at you. you are slow with yours, careful not to stain your clothes with the pink icing.

"want to try?"

you look over at him. he brings his glass closer towards you, and aligns the straw with your lips.

"isn't it the same?"

"well, no." he laughs awkwardly. "try it, trust me."

you try taking the glass from him, but he is persistent in holding it for you. you wrap your lips around the straw, eyes locked with his dark ones.

"atta girl." he hums.

you swear you could orgasm right there on the spot. you pull at the liquid, cheeks hollowing and creating a perfect scene for him. he is dead serious, the smirks and chuckles long left behind the counter. the moment your tongue tastes alcohol, you push the drink away from you, creamy liquid dripping from your lips.

"fuck, is that whiskey?"

you wipe your top off with your sleeve, not yet realizing wooyoung's intense gaze on your lips.

"yes." he replies, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

"god, why?" you finally lick the cream off your lips, ridding wooyoung of more fantasies forming in his head.

"it's good. why, don't like alcohol?"

you never really did. sure, you drank some tequilas, and a little gin of course, but not to the point to get drunk or actually go for a full round or two.

"i'm actually quite a virgin when it comes to alcohol."

the words are left hanging in the air, silence wrapping you both up. one might think that you knew exactly what you were doing with the choice of words, but you were plain dense. and wooyoung was here for it. he was whipped for all the innocent sides you were unknowingly showing him, but lord forbid he tells you anything. otherwise, you might stop talking at all.

"you can come over for classes if you want..." he brings the glass back in front of him, a smirk dancing on his lips, "...anna."

"yeah, i don't want any alcohol after my real classes, thank you."

the conversation stops, the only sound being quiet chewing and the rain pouring. wooyoung takes his time to think, and so do you.

"that yunho guy-"

"what do you do in your free time-"

you start at the same time. yunho? how does he know his name?

"you go first," you offer, unwrapping another cupcake.

"that yunho guy, he orders a single strawberry mocha with extra syrup and pearl sprinkles every day when you don't come. whipped cream too, of course. for you, assuming?"

you nod, poking those same sprinkles with your straw. yunho has been a little more absent in your life since this whole thing has started, and you feel bad to admit that you didn't really miss him. you weren't using him for coffee or homework, of course. you still like to occasionally chat with him, just not like before. especially since his feelings are coming more to the surface.

"yes, for me."

wooyoung hums, not asking further questions.

"so uh, wooyoung, right? you're new here?" you opt for a different question, seeing that he didn't remind you to finish the previous one.

"jung wooyoung, yes. i moved from los angeles recently, didn't find my luck there."

"ah, what do you do?"

"porn."

and just like that, the conversation stops. at least from your side. your head hangs low over your paper cup, fingers now playing with the cupcake wrap as you feel his gaze on you.

"are we going to act like you don't know what that is?"

"i know what it is," you stutter, fingers ripping the wrap apart and playing with bits from nervousness, "i just don't quite, you know, fit in that area."

"you sure fit in that night."

you choke on your spit, eyes shooting up to look at him. his elbow rests on the desk, supporting his head, while his other one plays with the empty cup. his finger grazes the corners, slowly circling it, as if trying to help you remember that night and the way the did it to the toy. your mouth goes dry, and you feel at his complete mercy.

"how-" you clear your throat, the roughness of it a dead giveaway that he caught you, "-how did you, uh, know?"

"you're telling me you saw nothing wrong with entering the coffee shop with that hoodie on, knowing full well i work here?"

you look down at the hoodie you're wearing. how fucking ironic, that it's the same hoodie you posed in for him. you really are that dense.

"i should get going."

"i can drive you home. you're not thinking of walking in this weather?"

him and you? in such a small space? for such a long time? what if you blurt out more stupid things, as if you haven't embarrassed yourself enough today? you wouldn't blame him if he left you on the side of the road.

the train of thoughts is interrupted by your name rolling off his lips so sweetly, dripping milk and honey. your actual name, not the fake one you gave him.

"yes?"

"i'm not camboy wooyoung now. i'm just wooyoung, your friendly barista. and when i say i can and want to drive you home, i mean it. no funny business. the last thing i want to do is make a loyal costumer uncomfortable."

it doesn't take long for him to clean up the table and grab his phone from the charging station. you patiently wait by the door, ears and cheeks warm from the unfamiliar situation you've found yourself in. you follow his commands, such as coming behind the counter and slipping through the staff door so that the cameras don't catch you. you squeeze into the pantry, waiting for him to lock the doors one by one.

"so, that yunho guy didn't take your virginity yet?" he blurts out, as if it is the most normal question he could ask.

"what?"

"well," he turns around, facing you, "he is your boyfriend after all, isn't he?"

"that's not quite- oh-" you are pressed into the corner, with wooyoung blocking the way out. he puts his hands on the wall, trapping you between his arms and forcing you to look at him.

"does your boyfriend know that you watch filth and film yourself for another man?"

"he isn't-"

"does he know that his innocent little girlfriend is alone with that same man inside an empty coffee shop, away from everyone?"

you fail to answer, instead opting for silence. your eyes fall on his exposed chest, fingers yearning to touch. you feel a hand under your chin, gently lifting your head up so that you can look at him again. you see pure desire in his eyes, and now you know exactly what the authors mean when they say that his eyes darkened with lust. you are witnessing it first hand, and now that you are finally here, you are not acting the way you did in your mind.

he brings his face close to yours, his loose hair strands tickling your cheeks. his breathing is shallow, much like yours, and when he slowly presses his lips against yours, you breathing stops completely. he holds your chin in his hand, thumb gently rubbing your cheek, while his other hand finds its place on your hip. he pulls your body into his, and ever so gently bites down on your bottom lip.

your first normal kiss ever. with the man you watched masturbate on a crucial studying night. he pulls away, just enough to move your hair out of the way.

"am i making you uncomfortable?" he asks, concern taking over his features.

"no," you whisper, not trusting your voice.

"you sure?"

"please keep kissing me." you look up at him, and wooyoung swears that he has never seen such big pleading eyes in his entire life. just how can he deny you such a thing, when you asked him so sweetly and innocently?

wooyoung loses control, and lets his heart take over. his hands grab your waist, picking you up and seating you on a nearby surface, knocking some cups and cutlery over in the process. his lips are pressed against yours again, moving slowly until you get used to it. your hands hesitantly wrap around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on it. wooyoung exhales into your lips, absolutely whipped for your little gestures.

you are soaking wet. you hope he doesn't feel it, considering he has your legs wrapped around his waist and your cunt pressed against his firm torso. with each kiss he so generously delivers you, a new batch of butterflies gets released in your stomach, making you feel all giggly and excited. he smells absolutely heavenly, and the way his tongue is grazing your lips is driving you mad. his fingers press into your thigh, feeling the flesh and lightly squeezing it. so he really does have a thigh fetish.

you whine when he pulls away from you, only to attach his lips to your neck. he drags his tongue down the side of your neck, to your collarbone. his hands sneak under your hoodie, lingering on your bare skin for a moment. you realize he is waiting for a sign to keep going, so you help him raise your hoodie right under your chest.

"should i stop?"

you didn't quite picture him as a man who would ask for consent multiple times. but then again, he is a man. not a boy. and just like he said: right now, he isn't camboy wooyoung. he is your friendly barista wooyoung. a particularly touchy friendly barista wooyoung. not that you're complaining.

"angel?"

absolutely lost in the way he is looking at you, you fail to answer. you feel so small in his arms, and so inexperienced when it comes to simple kissing. god, what if he wants something more right away?

"i need to know you're comfortable. i won't do anything if-"

you stop him by taking his hand and placing it on your breast. he gulps, gently squeezing the soft flesh. why does he seem so nervous? doesn't he fuck multiple people in a span of a month?

he rubs your tense buds, sending little shockwaves to your core. as soon as you lift the hoodie to your collarbones, wooyoung is quick to take your bud into his mouth. he teases with the tip of his tongue, making you twitch and yelp in his grip. you aren't used to this type of pleasure. it's new, and intensive. you love it.

his other hand keeps up the pace his tongue has set, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive buds. you struggle with breathing, and your hands are reaching out to grab anything; the counter, his shoulders, his hair, the counter again, and so on. your head falls back, and the feeling of pure bliss pools in your stomach. you feel like you could orgasm any moment, yet it never happens. wooyoung switches between each bud, treating them both equally. a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth, making wooyoung hum. he is pleased with the way you're responding to him, so jumpy and whiny while he feasts on your body.

when he pulls away, you see a string of saliva connecting his lips with your breast. you moan at the sight, feeling adrenaline running through your veins and waiting to explode somewhere in your body. wooyoung drops down on his knees, fingers hooked in the elastic band of your shorts.

"if i don't get crushed between your thighs right now, i don't think i'll live to see another day."

even from that position, he is emitting insane dominant energy, and you are just a marionette in his hands.

"please."

you raise your hips just enough to help him pull the shorts down, along with the panties. you are thankful that they are the new ones you had discovered this morning since buying them a month ago. though, they were ruined with your arousal anyway and wooyoung probably couldn't care less. but instead of tossing them aside, he raises them in front of his eyes, admiring them.

"that's so fucking adorable."

they are plain pastel panties, with a small row of lace on the top of it. you figure he is used to strings and thongs, and how new a normal set of panties must seem to him. wooyoung folds the panties, and stuffs them in his pocket. too taken aback by his action, you do not have time to react when he places your legs over his shoulders.

"you don't have to cum. i just want to show you how good it can be."

you mean you want to leave me yearning for your touch as if i am not desperate enough?

"is that alright? can i lick you until you pass out?"

he knows exactly which words drive you insane. as if he was living in your head since you discovered the first young adult fantasy book. you nod, then breathe in. the sudden lighting outside makes you aware of where you are. you are about to have your cunt devoured by none other than the new barista everyone around you is crushing on, in one of the staff rooms. soft café music is heard in the distance now that the rain has calmed down, and it is only adding up to the rather odd, but once in a lifetime situation you are in.

a flat, wet muscle presses against your folds, softly licking up your arousal and stopping at your clit. you try to close your legs at the new feeling of pleasure, but wooyoung is quick to grab your thighs and keep them apart just enough so he can get you used to the feeling. your legs shake as the tip of his tongue massages the tip of your clit, pure pleasure taking over your body and completely shutting your brain off. you are a whining mess, shaking in his arms, pulling at his hair, and whatnot. his eyes never leave your face, memorizing every eyebrow scrunch, every eyeroll, every moan and every hand movement. he is entirely mesmerized by your existence. he has never seen anyone let their guard down like this and put themselves at his complete mercy.

he switches between techniques, not yet allowing you to work up your orgasm. he figures you like circles with the tip of his tongue best, they have you being more vocal and squirmy in his hold. wooyoung then snakes his hands under your bottom, gently lifting your lower body so that your head and shoulders lay comfortably on the wooden surface. your hips are in the air, and your legs hang off his shoulders. you are confused by the position he has you in, until he dives into your cunt once more. you moan, fingers reaching to pull at his soft hair. this time he doesn't separate your thighs, but instead presses his face further into your arousal and squishes your flesh against his cheeks, licking every drop you have to offer him.

"wooyoung-" you whine, hips subconsciously grinding against his face.

"good, good girl." he hums, lips closing around your bud and sucking on it.

you clench, body tensing up upon feeling the orgasm approaching.

"fuck- fuck-" you whine, hands gripping the shelves above your head.

wooyoung slows his movements to the max, carefully sliding his tongue up and down your clit, driving you insane with the orgasm delay. you want to cum so bad, but everything feels too much, you are sweating so bad, and the position you are in is making you more vulnerable and sensitive.

"please, please, please, pretty please" you beg, voice already betraying you and cracking at the end.

wooyoung groans against your cunt, then moves away. you gasp with surprise. all the pleasure leaves your body, and you are now laying on the surface again. you support yourself on your elbows, enough to look at him and ask just why he stopped.

"prettiest cunt i've ever seen in my life." he caresses your skin above it.

"why-" you breathe out, "- why did you stop? i was so, so close-"

"i had to, angel. i don't want you cumming in a pantry on an uncomfortable surface."

you watch him lick his lips, disbelief evident on your face. he chuckles, picking your shorts up from the floor.

"panties?"

"i'll get you new ones."

were the panties really that interesting to him? wooyoung reaches for something above your head, pressing his lips on your forehead before grabbing paper towels. you are sensitive to his touch, feeling overstimulated and irritated even though you didn't orgasm. he patiently wipes you, then pulls your shorts up, not forgetting to caress your thighs along the way.

"come here." he instructs.

you sit up, feet swinging from the counter. the man in front of you pulls you in for a kiss, this time a short one.

"you did very good. i hope you get your real orgasm somewhere comfy."

he hopes? was this a farewell? he had his little fun with you, and now he is no longer interested?

"come on, the weather is calmer now. i'll still drive you home though."

and just like that, he proceeds outside, leaving you with thoughts for a few moments. you feel a little humiliated, and very vulnerable and exposed. still, you follow him outside, and get into his car. it is a neat car, that you notice. it smells like an ocean breeze, and he has a camera above his steering wheel.

"not for porn," he interrupts your thoughs.

you have forgotten about that side of him. in the moment, it seemed like he was just a normal guy who hooked up with you because he thinks you are cute. in reality, he is probably bored of all those skilled partners and wants something new, so he used you as a little project. you feel hurt, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes as you look out the window. you haven't spared him a single glance, scared that he might be pitiful towards you. that's the last thing you need.

"right, then left?" he asks, steering the wheel with one hand.

"yeah."

it doesn't take long before the car stops in front of a familiar building. you don't see yunho's car, and just then remember that he is sick and resting at home. wooyoung has clouded your mind so much that you don't have any other thoughts, only ones about him.

"thank you for sharing the cupcakes with me." he winks, then unlocks the door.

you aren't ready to say goodbye just yet. if you leave the car, will everything be back the way it was? him acting like he doesn't know you, and vice versa? are you supposed to go in there and order your strawberry mocha from him like it doesn't associate you with today's event?

"wooyoung?"

"yes, angel?"

you play with your fingers in your lap, deciding which words would be the best to make him stay in your life just a little longer.

"can you teach me?"

"teach you?"

"yes. you are so experienced, and i am just a dumb virgin with a big imagination."

he stops to think. he bites the inside of his cheek, and you mimic him.

"i'd destroy you."

you clench around nothing, hearing his raspy voice say such words to you. you know he means them, you saw him mean them. but you are up for it. anything, just to get another taste of him.

"i don't mind."

he sighs, smile still dancing on his lips. "just what are you?"

since the day you had your first orgasm denial, you have heard from him only once, and only because you sent the message first.

i'm not seeing those panties again, right?

wooyoung: nope.

okay

okay? okay??? you could at least put some effort into flirting. you are only pushing him away, instead of inching towards another meeting, this one preferably ending with an orgasm. the notifications about his lives were now regulars on your phone screen, and though you never quite watched them, you like to think he does it for you. slight jealousy has appeared, and you have to stop it before it spreads. but after all, you are the one that has gained his attention.

you decide to visit yunho. he has been sick for quite some time, and has been rarely answering your messages. you have prepared him his favourite soup, and bought his favorite chocolate bar.

"yunnie, you're alive!"

you jump into his arms, forgetting that he might still be weak from being sick. but he catches you effortlessly, a fond smile on his lips as he keeps your body close to him.

"feeling better?"

"almost." he replies, gently setting you down on the floor. "how have you been?"

"bored, honestly. i miss gossiping with you and getting yelled at by other students. oh, turns out mark did cheat on jenna!"

"knew it."

yunho makes his way to the kitchen to grab you a drink and put away the food you brought him, and you can't help but notice how buff he has gotten since the last time you saw him. he was probably well built before too, but you've never seen that man in anything other than oversized t-shirts and hoodies. right now, he is wearing one of those compressive exercise sleeveless tops, every bump and curve visible on his toned body. you notice how big his arms are, and just how tall he is.

you feel familiar warmth between your legs, and you have to sit down to stop any funny business. he is speaking, but all you can do is stare at the way his hands are handling the drinks. his hands are much bigger in comparison to wooyoung, and his physique overall is making you melt right there on his couch.

"so? sound good?"

you look up, pupils dilated and cheeks warm and red. he is confused by your sudden change in expression, before he realizes that you weren't even listening. he sighs, giving up on the weekend trip proposal.

"what is it with you?" the man hands you a glass of apple juice, along with a granola bar he knows you love to steal from his cupboard.

"nothing, why?" you reply too quickly.

he laughs, mixed confusion and amusement. he sits next to you, leaving a little space in between. the way he drops his head back on the backrest and manspreads isn't helping your situation. wooyoung has opened a door that cannot be closed anymore.

fuck, wooyoung.

"you know, i thought i was gonna die. my headache was so bad i heard thumping inside it."

"does it hurt now?"

"not really, no. but i do think i still have a little fever. can you check?"

you lean over on your knees, fingers gently moving his hair out of the way. upon reaching over for the thermometer from the coffee table, you slip between the couch cushions, making yunho jolt and grab your waist. you have to close your eyes for a moment, sensory overload getting the worst of you. your clothes suddenly feel so tight and itchy, his breathing is loud and right there in your ears, and his hands are burning on your skin over the fabric of your top.

"watch it, little one," he says.

you know he means the nickname as a sign of fondness towards you, but in the situation where you're acting like an animal in heat, it is doing wonders to you. knowing that he is big, much bigger than you, and calling you that is making your stomach boil.

you want to make a move. no matter how wrong it would be. you want to lean in and kiss him, make him feel you up and down, make him touch you right here on the couch, where you cuddled and watched movies since knowing each other.

"why are you looking at me like that?" his voice is suddenly raspy.

"like what?" you whisper, afraid of your infamous cracking tone.

"like you want to fuck me."

not far from truth. not exactly fuck, rather just have a little fun to get some heat out of you. his hands never leave your waist, instead pulling your body into his lap. you've been in this position many times, mainly being tickled and begging for mercy. now? you're ready to beg for his tongue on you.

"i-"

a familiar ringtone interrupts you, and you feel him tense up underneath.

"pick it up." he says, lazily looking at you through half closed eyelids.

"uh, yes," you stutter, reaching towards the table to grab your phone.

you almost faint seeing the name on your screen. you don't want to pick up. not now. any other time, yes. but right now? not quite convenient.

"go on, answer it." yunho encourages, not knowing the consequences of his action.

but you do it anyway. what is there to lose? lose yunho, gain wooyoung. and vice versa. how fucking evil of you. acting like a bitch in heat, listening to your pussy instead of your morals.

"yes?" you answer, breath hitching when yunho starts caressing your sides.

"hi, angel."

yunho's touching stops. he is now focused on the male voice coming from your phone, the name of the contact not visible from your hair.

"let me see you tonight? i'll take you out for a ride and a dinner."

"tonight?"

"yes. unless you have plans? i just got my motorcycle back from the auto mechanic, thought i'd show you there's thrilling stuff other than an orgasm denial in a public space."

yunho removes his hands completely from you, but lets you sit on his lap. you witness his face morph from flirty to mixed anger and disappointment, though he is trying very hard to hide it. the red tips of his ears are a dead giveaway, and you wish you could feel guilty.

"i have no plans. the ride sounds nice."

"good girl. i'll pick you up same place i dropped you off the other day, six o'clock?"

"sound good."

"good. i'll see you in around two hours then?"

"yes."

"chatty as usual, i see. i'll get you to talk tonight, no worries."

and with that, he hangs up. it is only then that yunho sits you on the couch next to him, while he stands up. you are numb to his reaction, excitement boiling in your veins in anticipation for tonight.

"do you enjoy hurting me?"

he shoots the first arrow through your heart.

"do you love seeing me suffer? do you enjoy bringing me to tears almost every time we meet?"

you have just uncovered something that has been cooking for a long time, and you know you are at fault. you just fail to feel wrong for it.

"it was fine at the beginning, you showed no signs of interest whatsoever. but now? the last month or two? you are driving me fucking insane."

when yunho starts swearing, you now it is bad.

"and to think that i'd actually have a chance. that you'd open yourself up for me so i can prove to you how well i can treat you. i deserve a global idiot award."

you don't speak. you let him rant, knowing that he would only get worked up more if you spoke. none of the things you had to say were comforting, so being silent was the better option.

"get the fuck out of my house."

it is the first time you see him so angry and aggressive. with full right. so you silently take your belongings, turning your back on him without a proper goodbye.

"and take this with you. i don't need anything from you." he shoves the box you had brought him into your hands.

he looks at you, teary eyed, fighting hard to keep them from spilling. you've never seen yunho cry. ever. of joy? yes. but almost shaking while holding back tears and biting his lips to keep them from quivering? perhaps it's just anger and frustration. either way, you fucked him up. and there's nothing you can do, other than leave him be.

"i hate you."

six o'clock rolls around quite quickly. you stand in front of a motorcycle, quite bigger than you imagined. wooyoung takes his helmet off, then steps off the motorcycle. he examines you, from head to toe, a little puzzled.

"skirt? odd choice, considering that i told you we were using a motorcycle."

wooyoung then pushes your hair back, removing it from your face and letting it fall on your back. he puts the helmet on you, a slight smile on his lips as he secures it.

"you're so fucking cute it hurts. look at you in your skirt and ballerinas."

your cheeks burn from his compliments, your thighs rubbing under the delicate material. wooyoung plays with the ends of the skirt, then slips his hands on your bare skin.

"want to sit at front?" he purrs, gaze gentle and lips turned into a fond smile.

"i actually never... well, this is my first time seeing it up so close."

"so i'm your first motorcycle too? i feel honoured."

"I don't really know how to... you know, anything."

whenever you're around him, your vocabulary becomes very limited and poor. for someone who reads so much, you're struggling quite good with putting together simple sentences.

"your only job is to sit still and be pretty for me. got it?" he cups your face with one hand and gently caresses your jaw with his thumb.

you nod, not trusting yourself with speaking while he touches you in such ways.

"come on now. hop on."

you are sat in front of him, hands trapped under his while gripping the handles. you are stiff, and even if he notices, he doesn't react. he starts off slow, enough to not scare you off immediately. at one point, right at the last traffic light before exiting the city centre, he speeds up, the front of the motorcycle hanging in the air for a split second, but enough to make you gasp and fall back against his chest. you hear him chuckle near your helmet, his hand coming to rest on your hip enough to comfort you.

"i got you," he says, squeezing your hip.

you now lay comfortably against him, enjoying the smooth ride on the highway. you are alone on the road, the opposite direction crowded due to people returning home from work. you haven't felt such thrill ever. the way wooyoung controls the vehicle and smoothly changes lanes, to the way he speeds up and does the wheelie again, this time a little higher, is making you see stars. you scream, but the playful way. adrenaline rushes through your veins, and you are laughing, having the most fun of your life. he isn't saying much, and even if he was, you don't hear him. you feel comfortable in his embrace, trusting him with your life on this silent road lit by neon lights on the fences.

you gasp when you feel his cold fingers on your thigh, the texture odd. you look down, only to see that his other hand has a leather glove on, and is slowly dipping between your legs. he slows down, enough to pay more attention to you without any danger nearby. the cold leather touches your folds near your panties that have slightly moved from the reckless driving. he realises the advantage, and proceeds to rip apart the fabric. you moan at the action, remembering all those worn out pages of your books describing men ripping women's bras and panties. and now, you're a character in that page, hopefully about to have an orgasm of your lifetime.

the cold leather touches you once again, a single finger toying with your soft bud, just enough to have you panting. your head falls on his shoulder, searching for support. he circles your clit, playing with the soft flesh and checking just how wet you are getting.

"want me to stop?" he asks, and when you shake your head, he dips his fingers below your clit.

you flinch at the unfamiliar feeling, not feeling the pleasure anymore. he notices, but tries to enter once again, this time more gentle and slow. you flinch again, your head no longer resting on his shoulder. he removes his hand, gripping the handle again as he slows the vehicle. he stops at the nearby platform, the neon fence lights shining on the stone table and two benches. he gets off the motorcycle, then helps you off too. your ripped panties hit the floor, your folds caressed by the highway breeze. he takes his helmet off, hanging it on one of the handles, then helps you with yours.

you are suddenly hyperaware of the situation you are in. far from the city and people, alone in the dark with still a complete stranger, with nothing but a top and a skirt on. nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. nobody to call.

"shit, hey." wooyoung cups your face, seeing sudden anxiety on it. "do you want me to drive you back?"

you take a moment to think. if he really meant evil, wouldn't he do something by now? he wouldn't comfort you, right? wouldn't offer you a ride back? or is this just a little foreplay for him before he does something to you and leaves you to rot here?

"i mean it," the man caresses your cheeks with his thumbs.

"no, i'm good. i think."

"i am not doing anything until i am sure of it."

"no, no, i really am. i just..." you trail, looking around, "...i am very new to all of this, that's all."

wooyoung takes both of your hands, guiding you towards the stone benches and table. he sits you on the table, and he sits on the bench in front of you. he doesn't break eye-contact with you as he rubs your thighs, slightly squishing the flesh for your comfort and for his pleasure. he doesn't go further though. he gives you time to relax, until your feet start slightly swinging off the table from boredom.

"tell me about yourself."

"like what?"

"anything. just talk. i want to hear you speak. you don't do much of it, and you have such a pretty voice, especially when you make those little moans."

your cheeks are burning, and you can only look down at your hands playing with the hem of your skirt.

"come on, tell me. what do you do except studying and riding pillows these days?"

you want to say that you don't ride pillows, but the playful smile on his lips is too sweet to ruin it.

"i read, like, a lot."

"what genre is your favorite?" the man's voice is now low and raspy, his hands now slowly sliding underneath your knees.

"take a wild guess?"

"erotica?" he laughs.

you laugh with him, not yet aware of his little plan and the reason he brought you to a place far from people.

"well, tell me. what did you learn from it?"

it's like a switch was found on you. wooyoung is taking in every word you are so excitedly giving him, every expression you make as you remember various paragraphs that had you touching yourself late at night, or sometimes in the middle of the day at most random places.

"no way, you touched yourself in your college bathroom?" he is in disbelief.

"believe it or not, it becomes stronger than me. so, yes. multiple times, actually."

"what exactly did you do?" wooyoung asks, genuinely interested.

you have passed the shame barrier. the way he is caressing your skin and so comfortably talking to you about these things have you finally dropping your walls down. not even your friends have made it this far into the conversation without a smart remark or a grimace.

"just, rubbing myself, i guess? ah, i once used a water bottle to do it. it was so hot that day, and my bottle was wet and cold, and my brain just clicked."

wooyoung seems impressed, nodding his head with approval.

"i might have touched myself a little in the last row of the classroom."

"oh?" he is intrigued, mind already picturing you hidden in the last row behind your studying laptop, faking the writing while your other hand played with his new favorite thing in the world. "like this?"

the sudden contact with your clit makes you jolt, a gasp escaping your lips. he spins it in slow circles, much like you in that boring class. you breathe slowly, mouth already running dry from the sight in front of you. wooyoung stares deep into your eyes, tongue wetting his lips, and his hair messy from the highway wind. he looks incredibly good in his leather jacket and the chain necklace. you can hear yourself becoming wet, noises making both of you breathe shallow and feeding your lust drive. you feel exposed under the neon lights, under wooyoung's stare, on the side of the road. yet the pleasure is overpowering everything, and you find yourself shamelessly grinding your hips against his thumb. his confidence is affecting yours, and seeing him not give a single fuck about the location or the passerbies, it is unleashing something inside of you.

"fuck, angel, even your cunt sounds so cute."

you give yourself a moment of bravery, fingers hooking under his chain necklace and pulling his body towards you. your lips touch his, warm plush making your thighs clench. he chuckles against you, then leaves a few pecks on your bottom lip. he tugs it between his teeth, gently biting it and swiping his tongue on it. you give yourself to him, completely at his control, and only follow what he does.

he removes his hand from you, resulting in a whine leaving your mouth. he laughs again, pulling away for a moment.

"patience, baby. you're doing very good."

he kisses you again, his hands snaking around your waist and under your top. he feels your skin, the lace of your bra, plays with the hook, but doesn't undo it yet. he grazes your spine with his trimmed nails, giving you goosebumps. you shiver in his hands, wanting nothing more but to relax in his hands and have him do that to you all night long.

his tongue is restless against yours, gently rubbing against it, teeth accidentally clashing from the passion getting the most out of him. he wants all of you, right here, right now. but he can't have you just yet. like he said, he would destroy you. he can't hold back that much. he almost melts when he feels your fingers gently tug at his hair, your other hand subconsciously resting on his chest. he thinks it's cute how you are at a position above him and higher than him, yet he still has all the control over you. he also thinks it's cute how your legs are still swinging from the stone table, while you kiss him back and try to keep up with him. your kisses are short, your tongue soft, and your hair is tickling his cheeks, a complete opposite of his deep and long kisses, with an occasional teasing bite.

"wooyoung," you mumble, pulling away.

he hums, waiting for you to respond. you rest your forehead against his, taking a moment to breathe normally again.

"i want to cum on your tongue, please?" you ask so sweetly, big eyes staring into his.

"i had something else in mind, though. but i'll see what i can do, since you asked me so nicely."

he isn't sure how he can feel so soft and so hard for someone. you are the first one that is actually taking his time with him and listening to him to make it all more enjoyable. the rest of them wanted it quick, and frequent. he prefers it this way now, with more lust building up, and he knows the result will pay off. maybe you are growing impatient, maybe you'd just smack him right there on the spot, but he is very fixed on his idea, and he loves that you are listening him so patiently.

"lay down for me."

you lay on the cold surface, elbows digging into the uneven stone while they support your upper body so you can look at him. your breath hitches when his hand slides up your body, between your breasts, and up to your lips.

"open up."

and you do, taking his two fingers into your mouth. you swirl your tongue around them, slow, maintaining eye-contact with him. you are pretty sure you're dripping all over the table now, if not all over his pants too. he toys with your tongue for a while, too immersed in the way you're licking him up.

fuck, how good you'd take his cock. he'd push so slow between your glossy lips, which he would coat with his precum, and he would gently test your limits and have you gagging around him. wooyoung stops the train of thoughts before it was too late, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth. he then runs them up and down your slit, toying with the folds more than the clit. you want to groan from frustration, but you have to be patient, just like he said.

he spreads your folds, tongue diving right into the tip of your clit. your fingers reach into his hair, pulling at the dark strands and burying his head deeper into your cunt. he is loving every bit of it, willingly pushing himself deeper between your thighs and squishing them around his head. you hear him suck and lick, setting your heart on fire, and making your blood boil.

"wooyoung-" you gasp, clit abused by his restless muscle.

he only hums against you, lips sucking you slowly but with power. you don't know how loud you are, nor do you care. you let your voice loose, calling out his name, whining, bucking your hips into his mouth, moaning and chasing the orgasm that has already started to pool at the bottom of your stomach.

his fingers let go of your folds, instead focusing on a new place. he toys with your entrance, sending weird sensations through your body. ever so slowly, he pushes one finger inside, making you hold your breath at the uncomfortable feeling.

"that hurts-" you whine, all the pleasure gone.

"you can take it, right? for me?"

you look down at his eyes, the neon lights shining inside them.

"watch," he mumbles, nodding his head towards your drenched pussy.

you do as told, watching as his finger disappears into you, each pump a little less uncomfortable. he curls his finger upwards, unlocking a whole new sensation for you. you moan, more at the sight than the feeling. something about his veiny hand working on you and disappearing so smoothly inside of you is more arousing to you than a whole movie sex scene.

"i'm adding another one, alright?"

you gulp, then nod. you watch him carefully insert two fingers, slowly stretching you out. inch by inch, he fully inserts them, all the way to the knuckles, and stays there for a while.

"atta girl." he says, tone low and raspy, dripping with desire.

"it's too much," you whine, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

"just a little more, angel. i promise, it'll feel good." he coos, cupping your jaw with his other hand and caressing your cheek. "can you do that for me?"

you nod, fighting hard to push the tears back. the last thing you want is to turn out a coward, after all those erotica books you've told him about. reading about all that monster porn, fairy porn, and whatnot, yet you can't take two human fingers. pathetic.

"look at you, taking me so well." he praises, moving his fingers at a faster pace now.

you feel your hole stretching for the first time, and you are not sure if the sensation you are feeling is enough to make you cum. you stay still, watching him work on you, and focusing on relaxing your muscles around him. he curls his fingers up again, and another moan escapes your lips. he leans in, just enough to feel you breathe into his mouth. proper moans finally leave your mouth, and you leave all the gasps and shallow breathing behind. you shamelessly moan into his mouth, hands gripping anything they can; from his clothes and chain, to his hair and shoulders. you rock your hips along with his pumps, finally finding a path towards the sweet release. but wooyoung shows no intention of speeding up, even though you tried taking the matter into your own hands. you feel like spilling over any moment now, but the way he switches between slow and slower is driving you crazy.

"shit," he curses, suddenly pulling your body into his lap.

you moan when you sit on his fingers, knuckles trapped deep in your hole. you don't have time to process what is happening, a bright light shining into wooyoung's eyes and your back.

another motorcycle stops beside his, two people your age getting off of it.

"hey, what's up?" the stranger greets, politely waving.

the girl doesn't spare you a glance, but instead opts to stare at wooyoung.

"we're just gonna take a five minute break, sorry to bother you guys." the young man explains.

"that's fine," wooyoung smiles back.

the stranger then leaves behind one of the trees, and the girl takes a seat on the opposite of you two.

"aren't you, like, jung wooyoung?" her voice is pure torture, squeaky and fake.

"uh, yes."

"you have an enormous dick, babe. fuck, i masturbate to you almost every night."

your heart clenches, but apparently, so does your pussy, because wooyoung is quick to give you another stretch of his fingers inside you. you bite your lip, head falling on his shoulder. your back is turned towards the girl, so you cannot see if she is doing anything to get wooyoung's attention away from you. you don't like it.

"glad you enjoy my content," he replies calmly, as if he gets that every day.

maybe he does. and just then, you remember what wooyoung is. he is a cam boy, a porn star. he isn't a guy who took you on a date outside of the city. he is just someone who got tired of fucking experienced people and wants to try something new. you bite the inside of your cheek, tears gathering in your eyes now for a whole different reason.

it's his fault that he's so nice to you. didn't he say he would destroy you? you have developed a crush on him, and you didn't even realize. you need to back off, as soon as possible, before you become one of his toys for views. and with his sweet talk, it could happen without you even processing it first.

"do you do those live fuck invites anymore? i'd love to be your guest sometimes. maybe you know me, i was at top five performers last month?"

"ah, rosiedesires?" he is quick to answer.

his fingers slowly move, and you have to bury your head into his neck to keep yourself from making any noise. he smells heavenly, the scent of musk making you a little dizzy. you don't realize you are panting and whining, until he leans down to your ear.

"be good." he whispers with a little stern tone, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and leaving a quick peck there. if his fingers weren't up your pussy right now, you would've felt butterflies.

you don't know if he is mad at you, or if it's just a part of his play. either way, as bad as you are feeling, you don't want him to stop. you want him to make you cum, so that you can leave and cut all communication with him. you'll manage on your own without him, and there's still yunho. well, was. but knowing his feelings for you, he'll be quick to make up with you.

"friday night sound good?"

"yes, of course. perfect! can't wait, our followers are gonna be so excited."

did he just make a dick appointment while his fingers are deep inside of you? while you are holding back tears on his shoulder? while you are almost biting off the inside of your cheek?

"but wait, i don't do taken people. is that your partner or something?"

"ah no, that's just my coworker. he drives me home every night, we live in the same building. and uh, that..." she trails, probably pointing at you, "...is not your girlfriend?"

"no, no, of course not. she's also someone i've met on the site."

someone i've met on the site.

of course, what else did you think? that he was also falling in love with you? how stupid. now you know how yunho felt. you know exactly how he felt, when you made him feel dumb for having a one sided love. though, this isn't love yet, but still.

"shy, i see. hello, do you speak?"

the way she is talking to you is making you feel humiliated and small. as if you're an alien, asking if you speak.

"whore." you mumble.

"what?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

you finally raise your head, cheeks puffed and eyes red. wooyoung finally sees how bad he fucked up, and his heart breaks a little at the sight.

maybe it was just the sexual frustration. maybe it was the anger. maybe the disappointment. or maybe just the way she chewed that gum and looked at you like you were a piece of shit on the side of the road. whatever it was, it gave you enough of confidence to repeat yourself.

"whore."

"you stupid bitch," she scoffs, and you almost laugh when you see red lipstick smeared on her teeth as she calls you more names.

"openly talking about fucking a random guy and then getting offended by a single word? fucking weirdo." the words are quicker than your mind, and you feel wooyoung's fingers leaving you and instead gripping your waist.

"listen here, you fucking prude, i will fuck you up-"

"alright, let's take you home." wooyoung interrupts. "rosie, i'll reach out to you these days."

"sure thing, baby."

not so gentle anymore, wooyoung hands you the helmet. the change in his behaviour in front of a different woman is baffling to you. you feel like throwing up, and dropping right there in the middle of the road. anger is building up inside of you, enough for you to push the helmet back into his hands.

"put that on." he orders, brows knitted.

"no." you spit out.

"i will not repeat myself." his tone lowers, yet his gaze darkens.

"you don't have to." you strike back, not aware of the consequences building up.

"do you want to fucking hurt yourself? put this on right now, before i put it on for you."

fear creeps into your body, slow, and grows more with each second that passes and his gaze stays on you. you gulp, suddenly finding yourself in a mental conflict. you do not want to go with him. you want to stay here, curl up under the table and cry until morning, and mourn that little hope you had left and that he crushed. yet he is your only way home. but it is such a long drive, and you don't have the energy to be near him.

so you turn your back, and start walking towards the city lights.

"and just what do you think you are doing?" wooyoung grabs your elbow, pulling your body against his.

"leave me be."

"i asked, what do you think you are doing?" he asks again, gaze not softening.

"i am going home."

"you're-"

"jung wooyoung," you say through gritted teeth," i. am. going. home."

and with that, you start your way to the distant skyscrapers. it hurts you that only two minutes after, two motorcycles pass by you, one of them very familiar. he only spares you a glance through the mirror, then speeds up and disappears.

finally, you cry. loud sobs, chest heavy and body shaking. you drag your legs for what seems like hours, yet the buildings remained the same. you pull out your phone, searching through contacts. nobody is close enough with you for you to call them and pick you up. except your only fast dial, yunho.

what is there to lose? you've reached the bottom anyways.

it takes only two rings for him to pick up, and you fail to greet him. instead, a sob leaves your mouth.

"tiny?" he calls, voice concerned.

"can you please come get me?"

to say that yunho was furious would be an understatement. you haven't told him anything yet, but it was enough to find you sitting alone on a bench outside of the city, on a road where prostitutes and dealers often met, with ripped panties laying on the floor.

his heart is tight, and he feels his throat closing as he approaches you. dark lines decorate your puffed cheeks, the makeup you always so happily put on now a fluid disaster. you run into yunho's arms, finally warm and secure. he buries his noise into your hair, leaving kisses on top of your head as he rubs your back. he knows what to do when you're upset, and you are grateful for that. you need silent support, no questions, no getting you to talk, just someone's presence and comfort. you finally look into his eyes, and just when you thought you cried it all out, you start sobbing again.

"it's okay." he assures you, cupping your face.

"can i stay-" you hiccup, your lungs having a hard time to balance breathing and speaking, "can i-"

you sob again, frustrated because you can't form a sentence. you feel like ripping your hair out because of your stupidity.

"you can stay at my place," yunho understands, gently guiding you towards his car and opening the back door for you.

"no, no-"

"there's more space for you to lay down. trust me, you'll be comfortable."

"i want the front."

"but-"

"please."

yunho doesn't immediately drive to his place. he drives past the highway exits for the city, and you are too tired to question it. you fight to stay awake, but the burning sensation of your eyes is making it quite difficult. every now and then, yunho glances at you, making sure you're alright and comfortable. you have your seat pushed back, and your body turned towards him. it makes you feel safer when you open your eyes and see him in front of you.

the lights are fading, allowing the moonlight to take over and illuminate yunho's face. has he always been this pretty?

you're skipping classes, opting to stay in yunho's bed instead. you're rotting in his room, only watching him come and go. he has a job, and classes to attend, and by the time he finally gets home, you are fast asleep. the food he so carefully prepares you stays cold on the counter, flies getting to it before you do. it is making him sad, seeing you in such a state. you didn't speak of that night, and he didn't want to ask in case you go further into your shell.

today was no different. you are awoken by his alarm, then him tossing and turning on his side. he is careful to leave a distance between you two, even when he is asleep. you feel the warmth leave the space behind your back, then hear footsteps. you hear shuffling, and you open your eyes to see what he is wearing today.

he wears a plain white t-shirt, black ripped jeans, and a leather jacket. the weather is still confusing, and you are glad you don't have to tell him to bring a jacket with him. he also wears his signature boots, sitting on your side of the bed as he puts them on.

"yuyu?" you call.

"yes, sweetheart?"

"when are you coming home today?"

he stays silent. you think he doesn't hear you, so you repeat. yunho sighs.

"i don't have classes today. and i have a day off."

"oh," is all you can say. you aren't sure if it's a sound of disappointment or surprise. either way, you are not thrilled.

"i'll be back in a few hours."

he doesn't look at you. instead, he stands up, picking up his bag and house keys. you finally sit up straight, blanket still wrapped around you.

"where-" you clear your throat, voice coming out raspy and cracking, "-where are you going?"

"a date."

yunho finally spares you a glance, one enough to let you know that he grew tired of you playing with his emotions, and is tired catering to you when all of his efforts have gone to waste.

"there's food in the fridge if you get hungry. i'm having breakfast outside."

then there you are, again in the dark room, alone with your thoughts. you think about both of them. yunho, who has been by your side for so long, and has respected your boundaries despite his strong feelings. and wooyoung, who is there just a few weeks, yet has such a strong impact on you. you feel discarded by both sides. yunho? justified. wooyoung? not as much.

yes, he is just a porn star. yes, you may be delusional. and yes, he might fuck other people. but the urge in you to feel him just one more time, to let him teach you so you can be good enough for someone you truly care about, is burning inside of you.

bullshit. you want to be good enough for him. you have always been way more intrigued by things you cannot have. wooyoung is an unattainable goal, something you can only dream of having. then again, what do you actually want with him? you only know him sexually, you know nothing about him as a person. you only crave him physically, while you crave yunho emotionally.

but you can't have both, and the way the tables have turned, you are left with neither.

the day is slow, and the sun is going down with the tiktoks on your phone screen. when you feel your stomach tighten and growl, you finally glance at the room around you. it is dark, it smells like old clothes, and the lack of fresh air starts suffocating you. yunho's washed, unironed work clothes sit on his gaming chair, waiting to be ironed by him. it would have been done long time ago, if you didn't take up his whole room.

you switch between the apps, from tiktoks to reels, to youtube shorts, then back to reels. you've seen every video possible, not a single one funny anymore. you feel numb. your stomach is giving you signals, which you so successfully ignore. much like your bladder. it is hitting your ovaries, causing indescribable pain, yet you choose to lay there and mourn over your will to live. you return to the instagram homepage, and when you see yunho's icon in the stories, you just have to click it. when you do, you see him posing with a young woman your age, at the breakfast place you used to visit the first year of college. he has ordered his usual, you notice. and she has ordered yours.

he looks genuinely happy, his smile wide, and his eyes squinted. his arm is wrapped around her shoulders, and the other one holds the phone taking the picture. she is busy holding his face in her hand, lightly squishing his cheeks, just like you like to do.

"fuck me." you groan, then shut your phone off.

as if a switch has clicked inside of you, you run to the bathroom, eager to end your suffering. it takes you less than half an hour to take a shower, put on clean clothes, and do the basic skin care you have ignored for a few days now. you use yunho's expensive products, of course. he won't mind as long as he doesn't know you used them.

by the time the sun sets, the room looks brand new. you have put on new sheets, dusted the shelves, vacuumed the floor, and even ironed his clothes and neatly put them in the closet. the messy notes on his desk were now waiting for him in the drawer, with an attached pink note from you of the solution to the math problem he has been trying to solve on four pages now.

in the kitchen, you fish for ingredients. you decide to make his favorite for when he comes home, to at least thank him somehow for giving you comfort and support these days.

what time do you think you are coming?

yunho: around half an hour to an hour, i think. why?

i am making dinner, i didn't want to start early so it doesn't get cold.

you see the three dots on his screen popping up a few times, then disappearing. you set the phone aside, focusing on the garlic and onion in the pan so they don't get burnt. he loves your pasta bolognese, and won't eat it anywhere but from you. special flavor, he says. you don't have the heart to tell him that you just add in one more spice that the restaurants don't. you don't want to break the little tradition of you making pasta late at night for the two of you.

your phone pings, twice.

wooyoung has started a live! tap to watch.

yunho: i'm not coming for dinner. sorry x

and it's all it takes. really, that's all.

it takes less than five minutes for you to shut off the stove, then settle in the freshly made bed, yunho's boxers already pooling at your ankles. you realize how pathetic you look, getting ready to touch yourself to a guy that left you on the side of the road, in your best friend's bed. but to be fair, you were stubborn too. maybe you just didn't expect him to let you go so easily. maybe you expected him to stay back and comfort you, say sorry because of his harsh actions. or at least reach out to you afterwards. but no, jung wooyoung kept his distance. you checked the messages, regularly. not even an online tag from him. nothing.

until now.

wooyoung has started a live with rosiedairies! tap to watch.

your stomach tightens. is it friday already? time for that dick appointment. your finger hovers over the notificaton, mind working hard to figure out whether or not you can handle looking at something like that. you convince yourself that you can. it's just sex. it's not like you've never seen it before.

your finger taps the notification, and your screen take up two naked bodies, already going at it. it isn't hot at all. you could swear that all your arousal has dried up within two seconds.

wooyoung has the camera showing her face as she stays in doggy position and only his lower body is visible behind her, hips snapping harshly into hers. it doesn't look real. it look so staged and fake, ugly and raw. but she seems to love it, judging by the way her eyes roll to the back of her head and the noises overpowering the ones of skin clapping. wooyoung pulls her hair, and even though you've fantasized about that too, it isn't quite like this. all that hair pulling in your fanfics and books was indeed harsh, but still with a note of passion and love. this? this was pure pain.

"harder, harder-" she chokes, seductively looking at the camera.

what she asks, wooyoung delivers. the grip on her waist makes her skin white, likely to leave bruises afterwards. he picks up the camera, angling it on her bottom and his pelvis. the sight isn't a turn on for you, but you notice the condom, the bruises on her skin, and the scratch marks on his body. the people in the comment section are going feral, giving him orders on what to do to her, on what they'd like to do to him, and sending lots of money. you're grossed out, and just when you are about to exit the site, you hear the front door shut.

you pull the boxers up, jumping out of the bed and making it. you lock your phone, throwing it on the nightstand, before rushing to the bathroom and shutting the door. you hear footsteps, and not double ones like you expected. you fix your hair in the mirror, trying for that i woke up like this look.

"it's me," he announces while entering the room.

"back already?"

"wow."

you fail to hide the smile because of his reaction. he was probably expecting to find you laying under a blanket with your phone on full volume, like he did for the past few days. you didn't even take care of yourself, let alone help him with chores. you wanted to redeem yourself, at least a little bit.

you exit the bathroom as nonchalantly as you can, as if you didn't just do a 180° in the time he was out. he looks even more dashing than when he left. his hair is messy and skin glowing, and his lips have that red tint that suits him so well.

"how was your date?"

"it was great," he avoids your gaze while scratching his neck, "we're going on a second one sunday evening. making it fancy this time."

"that's so awesome! i'm happy for you."

your acting is so convincing, it has yunho feeling disappointed with your behaviour. sure, you wouldn't be jealous. but wouldn't you be bothered at least a little bit? a random girl entering your lives and taking up his free time instead of you, and you are happy?

"what do you say we go out for breakfast tomorrow, and i'll tell you everything?" he tests the grounds.

"sounds wonderful." you don't drop your guard.

you forget that yunho doesn't know the actual situation with wooyoung. so when he stops in front of the coffee shop the next morning and holds the door open for you, you rather enter than make a fuss out of it. you slide into your usual seat, letting yunho take the orders. the familiar man exits the pantry, smile dropping when he sees his next costumer. he immediately searches for your figure in the seating area, and upon finding you, he fails to hide a smile. you, on the other hand, don't. you stand your ground, poker face on and emotions on standby. for now.

"iced americano and a strawberry mocha?"

"yes," yunho confirms, "extra-"

"extra syrup, whipped cream, pearls. got it."

yunho looks annoyed, but doesn't say anything. he almost throws the money at wooyoung, tells him to keep the change, then joins you at the table.

you finally take a good look at him. each day, he is getting more attractive in your eyes. did he always dress this handsomely? was he always this tall?

"you like my coat?" he laughs, noticing your stare.

"well, yes. suits you. the turtleneck too. when did you get a fashion sense?"

"i've got to attract the ladies somehow." yunho jokes, then becomes serious once he sees wooyoung approaching with the beverages.

the cup is placed in front of you, and right away, you see a difference. knowing that you'll let it slide, yunho decides to speak for you.

"pearl sprinkles. not this rainbow puke."

"i only have rainbow puke." wooyoung scoffs, throwing the paper straws on the table. "drink it, or don't. i don't care."

"you should've told me that when i ordered." yunho keeps pushing, and the tension between the two is making you squirm in the chair.

"well guess what?" wooyoung leans in, one hand on the table, the other on the back of your chair. his face is inches away from yours, eyes fixed on your widened ones.

"get away from her, that's highly unprofessional."

"if she minded, she would've said something," the barista looks over at yunho for a split second, then returns his gaze on you, "but she doesn't mind, do you, darling?"

stuck between not wanting to hurt yunho, and wanting to subconsciously submit to wooyoung, you remain silent. wooyoung stays in the position for what seemed like hours, even though it was mere three seconds of it, then finally takes his position behind the counter.

"right, forgot he's your new boyfriend," the man on your opposite scoffs and takes a sip of his beverage.

"he's not-"

"kiyomi will be here any minute, by the way. can't wait for you to meet her."

"woah, is she okay with meeting me so soon? i mean, your first date was yesterday?"

he shrugs, glancing at his phone, "i don't see why not. you're just a friend. it's not like you're a relative or someone closer."

ouch.

"right," you clear your throat.

as promised, she arrives, breaking the silence and interrupting yunho's twitter scrolling. she's pretty, just like on the picture. the moment she sits next to him and starts talking, you see she is obsessed with him. she is joyful, talkative, optimistic, everything that you currently aren't. you notice wooyoung looking over multiple times, but what you don't notice is the way yunho is examining your face, looking for any clues of jealousy or discomfort.

you seem unaffected, and it makes his heart ache. just what does he have to do to get to you? getting a girl just to experiment didn't work, and now he has to either let the poor girl go or keep fueling her hopes and leave her later, until he gets a reaction from you. yumho hates himself for doing that. but yunho hates you too, as much as he loves you. you break his heart every day, but every time you look at him, you put it back together so easily. he wants to kiss you, as much as he wants to push you away from himself. he is lost in his own emotions, and doesn't know what he wants anymore.

"excuse me, i'll be right back."

"where are you going?" yunho betrays himself, asking you too quickly.

"toilet. wanna come?" you try to lighten the situation with a joke, seeing his date tense up at his reaction.

"ah no, thanks. gross. you go enjoy yourself. don't fall in." he joins in the joke, also taking notice of his partner's body language.

you enter the toilet, ignoring the cash register where wooyoung has busied himself with typing something on the screen. the you in the mirror looks like she is mocking you, your clothes and your behaviour. you've put on the newest dress you had, and you don't even know for who. both of them? you like yunho's soft lingering gaze on you, yet you enjoy the way wooyoung looks a second away from devouring you on that table. it's a simple long sleeved dress, really, paired with knee-high boots yunho had bought you for christmas.

the door swings open, bumping into you and pushing you against the wall. you only catch a glimpse of the familiar apron, before the man cups your face and presses his lips on yours. you are taken aback, body frozen against the cold tiles. wooyoung holds your face gently, lips moving slow as to not scare you off more.

"i'm sorry, i'm so fucking sorry," he whispers against your lips, pecking them a few times before apologizing again.

"wooyoung-"

"please, let me make it up to you. i don't care what that cunt outside says, i don't believe him anyway, just let me make it up to you."

you're having a hard time thinking rationally. do you really trust him enough to not hurt you again? fuck, but his lips feel so good. but oh, how yunho's hugs feel like home.

but nobody has ever shown desire the way wooyoung does.

yet nobody has more patience for you than yunho.

"you're thinking too much. let me fix that."

your lips are trapped by his once again, this time more rhythmic. you give into the touch, erasing the man outside completely from your mind.

"you're so sweet."

you hum against his lips, hands tugging at his white ironed shirt, the first two buttons separated as always.

"so cute." kiss. "so pretty." kiss. "so adorable." kiss. "so perfect."

you're not sure where it is going, but you do not complain. you do not complain when he lifts you on the counter near the sink either, flipping your dress up and ripping your panties again. you feel your core tighten, and you think you'll just never get enough of the picture of him ripping your clothes apart.

"let me make you melt on my tongue. please, god, I need it. i so desperately need you, all of you."

"here?" you ask, glancing at the door.

"here, out there, in the pantry, at your place, my place, everywhere. i'd take you to the roof if you told me to."

"anyone could walk in-"

you gasp mid sentence, cold metal pressing against your clit. wooyoung intentionally rubs your folds with his knuckles, giving you the cold sensation of his rings. your head rests against the mirror, hips already grinding into his hand.

loosing his patience, wooyoung sinks to his knees, your legs resting over his shoulders. he dives in, like it's his last meal. he licks hot stripes up your clit, pointy part of his tongue flicking the tip of it. you moan each time he does so, feeling your bud already becoming abused.

while he usually takes his time with you, today he is quick to separate your legs and go feral on you. his tongue is quick, so quick that it has you shaking uncontrollably against his mouth. you're shuddering, begging, pulling at his hair, all at once. a blabbering mess, as he eats you like there's no tomorrow. he dips his tongue into your arousal, letting out a moan of satisfaction.

"can i please cum?" you ask, knowing that he never lets you. why would today be different?

"no, no. not yet." he moves away, standing up and getting back to your face. "it needs to be special."

"it's just an orgasm, how special can it be?"

"mine always are, believe me. i want to be your first real one. i want you to remember it." wooyoung says as he continues to caress your cheeks with his thumbs.

the action is affectionate, as if he just confessed to having a crush on you and didn't just eat you out. funny how every time you meet him, you end up getting absolutely devoured by him in ways that you didn't even read about. he is passionate about it, to the point that it makes you think that he does it for his own pleasure.

"come over to my place."

"what?" your voice comes out louder than you wanted it.

"my place. i'll take good care of you. give you what you deserve."

you don't have time to reply, he is pulling you off the sink and disappearing into a stall. a quick glance in the mirror is enough to make your hands shoot up to your hair, straightening it and fixing the smeared mascara on the corner of your eyes.

"hey?"

yunho's head peeks inside, scanning the room. he sees you alone, and immediately feels at ease.

"yes, yunho?"

"i just got worried, you've been here for a while." he admits.

"so you left your date alone?" you can't bear to look him in the eyes, not when you just finished messing with the person he saved you from the other night.

"to be truthful, i saw that shitass barista disappear somewhere, and i thought he came after you. i'd hate to think that something happened to you and i was sitting just outside."

you appreciate his truthfulness, and don't have the heart to tell him just how weak to your instincts you are.

"don't worry, i'm good. let's go."

wooyoung: it's been almost a week

wooyoung: you don't think about me at all?

wooyoung: my offer, i mean. not me.

you don't know if you're being delusional, but you feel like the tables have turned. which is why you have reached out to another friend, one that doesn't have feelings for you and won't try to sabotage, well, whatever this is.

"honestly, from all these messages, you have unknowingly made him chase you. notice how you don't say much and he comes back texting you multiple times?" choi san is quick to explain, using his own flirting skills to decipher the conversation.

he lays on his stomach on your bed, pillow under it and legs swinging in the air. his freshly dyed blonde hair is a dry mess, struggling to hold onto his scalp. you wonder why his job requires him to ruin himself this much.

"now what do i do?"

"well, luckily for you, your lack of communication is what got you an advantage here. let's face it, you're dry as fuck."

"thanks."

"welcome. anyways, in your case, that's good. see? instead of giving up and leaving, he keeps coming back to you. and eating your pussy every time you two meet? are you kidding me? that man is obsessed with you."

at the mention of him eating you, your thighs clench, almost feeling his tongue down there. it is driving you crazy, having so much pleasure yet not reaching the peak. he is torturing you, on purpose.

wooyoung: i'll make you cum so hard you'll never wish for anyone but me

wooyoung: and that's a promise.

two new messages light up your phone, san grabbing it before you can. he covers his mouth, eyes wide as he reads the messages over and over. he unlocks the phone, and begins typing.

"no!"

"i'm doing you a favor!" he exclaims, running around the room and still typing.

you hear the sending sound, and your face heats up. he throws the phone on your bed, and sits right next to you.

"what have you done?"

"see for yourself. that, my dear, is called not being dry."

bold of you to think that i'll only wish for you

"that doesn't sound like me at all! you blew it!"

you are quick to bury your face in a pillow, already mourning all this time you've spent and regretting inviting san to help. but when another notification decorates your screen, you almost jump.

wooyoung: why don't you come over for a demostration?

"you do realize that if you go, you might lose your v-card?"

"i know."

"and you're sure that's the person you want to do it with?"

"yes."

he believes you as much as you believe yourself. you always thought your first time would be somewhere romantic, pre-planned, with the person you love and loves you back. not in the apartment of a porn star. and not with someone that only knows your name.

"you know, my heart really hurts for yunho."

"i invited you to avoid him. why are you bringing him up?" your fierce tone takes him aback, and it takes you aback too, you just manage to not show it.

"wow." san exhales.

"sorry, just- it's none of your business."

"how is it none of my business? i mean, i tried to not get involved, even came here to help you hook up with a complete stranger and help you throw away the best thing that can and will happen to you. i introduced you to yunho, knowing full well on his harmless little crush on you, and knowing full well that you were perfect for him. only to have you-"

"wait a minute, you can't guilt trip me into liking him."

the man in front of you is baffled with your reply, and you feel like you're not looking at one of your close friends anymore. now, you are looking at yunho's best friend, almost his younger brother. you forgot that before you, there was the two of them.

"someone seriously needs to fuck that attitude right out of you. you're acting like an animal in heat."

"well i'm fucking trying to!"

"well you're trying the wrong fucking way!"

"do not tell me who and how to fuck!"

the phone is pinging on your bed, not helping the situation at all. san is looking more disappointed than angry, his eyes becoming scarily dark.

"the fuck do you even know about fucking?"

"i know enough." you don't drop your guard.

san takes a step towards you, examining your face. then another, and another, until you are pushed in the corner of your room with him towering over you. there is nothing attractive about it in this situation, and you wish

"you may know about fucking, but you don't know shit about loving."

"shut up," is the only thing you manage to say, biting back tears.

"i am not guilt tripping you to like or love anyone, but the least you could do is let him down gently and stop playing push and pull with him. giving him hope, then shattering him right after it? not quite moral in my book."

"look, i'm in a difficult situation. i just- i like them both."

choi san laughs, sarcastically. he doesn't find it funny. he just doesn't know how to respond anymore.

"you don't like them both. you like wooyoung, and want to keep yunho as a backup."

"excuse-?"

"save it. i don't even know why i came here, helping you hurt my friend. you have started thinking with your pussy more than your brain, and you're losing people because of it. if you're horny, watch fucking porn."

with that, he grabs his leather jacket off your bed, and storms outside. you are feeling frustrated, angry, and sad. he is right, you know it. but you don't want to admit it. because somehow, in your head, if you don't admit it, it isn't like that. ignoring a problem makes it go away. simple as that.

you want to keep yunho, and his love, and his affection, but you want a taste of wooyoung so bad. so bad that your clit aches when you open his messages, yearning for his cold fingers and hot tongue.

wooyoung: do you like movies?

wooyoung: i thought we could watch the live adaptation of that book you like reading

wooyoung: what was it again?

wooyoung: if you want to, of course

wooyoung has sent a picture! tap to view.

you stop breathing for a moment, thinking of all the things you could expect in that image. you breathe out when you open it, seeing a pullout sofa and a blanket on it, along with snacks and two bottles of soda.

wooyoung: i'd be happy if you joined me :)

why, rosie unavailable?

wooyoung: i'm gonna go ahead and ignore that, for the sake of both of us

whatever that means

why are you the one sabotaging yourself now? yunho isn't here, and san has left too. then why?

wooyoung: it means that i don't like it when people mock what i do

wooyoung: and when people mock me, i become angry

wooyoung: and angry and horny don't go well together

wooyoung: unless you want to put it to test?

wooyoung angry fucking you? you grimace. would it be the kind of sex he did in his last live with that rosie girl? if yes, you are feeling very turned off right now. he must've sensed the lack of replying on your side, and is quick to respond again.

wooyoung: can't help it, sorry

wooyoung: just come over and we can hang?

your phone pings, sending you a message with a different name on top.

choi san: bet his new live will bring him a fortune. who else has taken someone's virginity live on a porn site?

what the fuck are you on about? there's no live.

choi san: that's what you think

choi san: or that's what he'll make you think

choi san: unless he convinces you to willingly do it

he wouldn't. would he? wooyoung who has asked you before each contact whether you're sure, or whether you're feeling nervous. wooyoung who already had his hands on your tits, and still wanted to ask if you're sure. he wouldn't secretly film you. he wouldn't.

what do you consider a hang? and why?

wooyoung: just hang? watch that movie and talk?

wooyoung: because

wooyoung: idk

wooyoung: you're so stiff and awkward yet i wanna know more about you and see you

wooyoung: i guess i want to be the one to unstiff you?

wooyoung: NOT LIKE THAT

wooyoung: i dropped my cool guy vibe just like that

wooyoung: look at me texting you multiple times in a row

wooyoung: i've never ever done that in my life for anyone

wooyoung: so...?

so san was right. you did unintentionally make him chase you. played hard to catch without even knowing it. you have a whole porn star folding for you, and offering you all you ever wanted. or at least you think you wanted.

ping!

yunho: hey just wanted to ask if everything is alright?

yunho: sorry if i somehow hurt you

yunho: you seem a little distant, and i know it might be because of the kiyomi situation, but i promise i care about you so much

yunho: if you want you can come over and we can make that pasta together?

yunho: i also want to talk to you

yunho: properly

it's now or never.

you gonna pick me up or?

you sit in the familiar car, the smell of it relaxing you. he knows how to make scents work and not make them literally bite your nose. you take a good look at him. he wears a simple short sleeved black t-shirt, along with grey ripped jeans and black boots. his hair is a little messy, but it only adds up to his look. every time you see him, you forget just how good he looks.

"angel?"

"wooyoung?"

he laughs, eyes not moving off the road.

"are you okay?"

"yes." you simply reply, shifting your attention to the surrounding houses.

you don't speak the rest of the way, just enjoying his humming and wheel tapping. it isn't uncomfortable silence. at least not for you. you can also hear faint vibrations coming from your phone in your bag, and you know exactly who they belong to.

"whoever that is, they sure are persistent." wooyoung comments.

"sorry. i'll shut it off."

"oh, no. please. i was just noticing."

you finally take the phone out, screen bombarded with his notifications. just when you wanted to clear the notification tab, he calls, and you click the green phone.

"shit."

"hello?"

wooyoung glances at your phone, eyebrows furrowed. he keeps driving, not saying a word.

"hey, yunho, now is not a good time-"

"it never is lately anyway. listen, i will just say what i wanted to like this."

"yunho, no-"

"i love you. i don't even think about the words like or crush anymore, i know, i'm sure, that i love you. and i know you're slipping away from me, and i know there's no way to stop it."

you stare at wooyoung, who is carefully listening to the voice coming from your device. you are shaking, thoughts running wild. you are becoming more aware of your feelings towards yunho, and aware about the situation you are putting yourself in. you are on your way to shatter everything you've ever had with him, and everything you could've had with him. for just a taste of what seemed to only exist in your mind.

"i won't blame you if you go with him. i'm just afraid of you getting hurt, maybe worse than that night. and this time i might not be around to fix it. i do not have the energy anymore. i'm sorry."

san was right about this too, and you hate him for it. all this time you subconsciously kept yunho as a backup. you've convinced yourself that he isn't your type, and you did so good at it. until now.

"i'm not saying you should respond to any of my feelings, but it would've been nice if you came to me and said something along the lines of "sorry yunho, i don't think we will ever be what you want us to be" instead of luring me in and pushing me around. calling me when you need it, then ignore me when you get what you want. i hate that i love you, and i hate that i have to humiliate myself like this every damn time. but i promised myself this would be my last. unless you really wish to discuss all of this properly, and whether or not you want our friendship to continue despite all this. tonight is your last chance. i am speaking to you as a friend now. i want to know where i stand."

you are speechless. he has touched the darkest spot in your heart. that dusty corner reserved for love. the kind of love san accused you of not knowing. how are you supposed to respond when there is a whole man next to you, a man who has also asked you to hang and talk tonight?

"i'll wait until midnight. if you don't show up, that will also help me know where i stand. but then, know that you might not hear from me anymore."

the phone call ends just in time when wooyoung pulls up in his parking spot. he silently exits, opening the door for you. still overwhelmed by the one sided conversation that just happened, you remain seated.

"if you're going to be sulky like that, i will just drive you to him." wooyoung offers, annoyance clear in his tone.

you feel a little irritated for his lack of empathy. but who would empathize with such an awful person like yourself? wooyoung sighs, then crouches in front of the open door on your side.

"you can't sit on two stools at a time, angel. i understand that emotions are hard, and love is complicated. right now, i am offering you something simple, and something harmless. i am not looking for love, i think. i just want to help you discover, and i want to discover you."

not looking for love, that you know. but it feels different hearing it out loud. the i think part right after it went right over your head, only adding to the you really are dense agenda.

"yunho is offering you commitment. real love. something i'm not quite capable of giving you, or anyone. i think with my dick, and he thinks with his heart. that creates a problem for you, because you want to be loved, but you also want a dick to make you stop thinking."

you aren't sure if he is dirty talking, or if this is just the way he speaks about these things. you finally look at him. his hand reaches for yours, gently guiding you out of the car.

"you can sit down and think inside."

but there was not much thinking. you were quick to lay on top of wooyoung, entirely relaxed in his arms as his nails grazed the skin of your thighs. non sexually. just innocent pleasure and the movie playing in the back. but you can't relax all the way, because you know where tonight will lead. you squirming under wooyoung's touch, the only emotions present being lust and yeaerning. you liked yunho. you really did. but the way wooyoung handles you is not like any other. you need to have it, at least one more time.

"you're not watching the movie."

"i know."

"then what are you doing?"

"thinking."

wooyoung sighs. his hands halt on your waist, then help you sit up on his lower stomach as he stays laying down.

"be honest with me. what exactly do you want? i won't judge you."

"i don't know." you lie.

"let me try a different approach. what do you want with me? be completely raw, so we can both know where we stand."

and you do just that. tell him all about your desires, about the feeling of lust which you've mistaken as a crush towards him, about loving how desirable you are feeling when it comes to him, and everything that comes to your mind. he listens, slowly nodding his head as you speak.

"i guess i want to have a little fun with no commitment before the, you know, actual commitment."

"i understand. now, what do you want with yunho?"

"everything."

you do want everything with him. from the kisses he is dying to offer you to whatever kinkery he has hidden behind those shiny eyes. yunho is a man every girl wants, including you, yet he only has heart eyes for you. and you'd be stupid to let that go.

"then go for it."

"see, the thing is- i already got a taste of you. and i want closure. i want to finally get that orgasm you've been delaying for so long."

wooyoung nods, eyebrows a little scrunched. he is focused on putting a stray hair behind your ear, and when that hair refuses to obey him over and over again, he huffs, and finally gives your sentence attention.

"we need to discuss first. what kind of orgasm are we talking?"

"what do you mean?"

"well, now that you've finally come to terms with your feelings towards that yunho dude, taking your v-card is off the table?"

"yeah, i guess." you shrug, as if it was just a hug you were talking about.

"just to warn you, it hurts like hell."

"that i know. thanks."

"he can reach out to me for some tips if he wants. just saying."

"got it."

he smiles, then proceeds.

"filming is off the table?"

"uh-"

"just asking, not forcing. if we are going to do simple oral and, or, fingering, then you know... i'd maybe like some footage. at least for me to enjoy sometimes."

come to think of it, it is risky, and it is something that you wouldn't do ever again when or if you become yunho's partner. this is maybe a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you don't want to waste it.

"i'll give you back by midnight, baby." he winks.

"okay." you agree.

you feel your heart beat faster, and louder. you have just agreed to be filmed, in a stranger's house, touched by that same stranger, and the video will be up for so many people to see. so what? you'll ask him to blur or cut the face out of the frame. simple as that.

"come on then."

the young man stands up, giving you his open hand. little do you know that the gaze you're giving him from below him on that couch is making his pants feel very tight.

you accept his hand, and allow him to lead you to his room. your eyes land on the bed. the very same bed and pillows where he filmed that live, and many other lives after that. wooyoung then gently pushes you towards the bed, hands grazing your waist while his eyes admire your outfit. it looks so easy to take off.

he carefully pushes you on the bed, and you swear you've never felt a mattress so soft. he climbs on the bed, hovering over you and giving you one more head to toe scan.

"so pretty." he whispers.

"thank you." you say, not knowing what else to do.

he laughs, then leans in to give you a kiss sweeter than those cake pops you used to eat throughout your whole high school. he kisses you again, again and again, until you start yearning for more. you reach for his shoulders, hair, neck, anything to make him deepen the kiss and give you one of his passionate ones. he takes his time, playing with your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth.

"patience." he instructs, then untangles your hands from his hair.

he reaches towards the nightstand. the same nightstand from which he pulled that clear toy out that night you discovered him. instead of something crazy, he pulls a single piece of long fabric. the fabric is shiny and pink, with lace decorating it.

"you trust me?"

"completely."

"that's a good girl." he kisses your forehead before putting the silk over your eyes. "raise your head for me a little bit."

you do as told, enough so he can tie it up behind your head. he adjusts your hair, letting it fall over your shoulders, then traces his finger down your neck and to your collarbones. you almost shiver at his touch. he continues his journey to your shoulders, gently pulling down the sleeves of your dress, then does the same to the other. you feel like everything is ten times more intense, since you can't see anything anymore.

he pulls his hand back, then shuffles on top of you for a while. you hear something hit the floor, and then feel the mattress dip between your legs. wooyoung takes your hand, guiding it towards a source of warmth. you breathe out when you touch his warm skin, nails yearning to dig into it. he helps you trace his abs, his formed chest, and all the way down to his defined v-line. you feel a few veins leading to a place of heaven, or hell, and you have to bite your lip to keep you from smiling.

this is exactly what you want.

"can i see?" you ask nicely.

"no. just feel." he declines, and you hear him smile as he says that.

"okay." you comply, using the opportunity to touch a little more

he then gets off the bed again, and you hear slight rattling. he must be setting up the camera. it doesn't take long for him to come back, placing an object next to you at a certain position.

"i'm only going to be filming myself and your lower body, alright? something like your point of view? you okay with that?"

"yes."

"you sure?"

"yes." you breathe out, feeling his hands caressing your hips.

"we need a safe word, angel."

"god, i don't know, just touch me already. please." you beg like a pathetic slut.

"i know you're impatient, but i really need you to think of a word."

"i don't know." you're becoming annoyed with him.

"how about..." he hums, then kisses your jawline, "mocha?"

"y-yes, that sounds good." you stutter as he plants kisses along your jawline, going down your neck and stopping at collarbones.

"so when you say mocha, i'm stopping everything i'm doing. got it?"

"yes."

"good. i'm turning it on now."

you hear a click, then a short sound. he waits a little, probably for people to join.

"hi, my favorite people. i would do some talking, but to be honest, i can't wait to dive into today's special."

you don' t have time to process his words, he is shuffling through the drawers again. wooyoung then takes your clothes off, and you help him by raising your hips, pulling your arms out your sleeves, all to make him satisfied. he plants a kiss on your knuckles, thumb grazing over them before he sets your hand back down. his lips hover above your skin, blowing cool air along the line of the lingerie bra you wore.

"i like you more in those pastels." he admits.

the man cups your breasts, slowly massaging them and letting his thumbs graze your tense buds over the thin black lace. you squirm under his touch, feeling the pleasure pool in your lower stomach. you swear you could cum from only nipple touching if he did it long enough. you could try that once.

"she's awfully quiet, isn't she? what should i do to her?" he speaks to the camera.

he then takes a few seconds to read the written suggestions, and then chuckles.

"take off the bra? oh, but i quite like it like this. it makes the situation sexier and more intimate. doesn't look like that raw porn you can find on pornhub, right?"

he is right. you got all dolled up for him, would be a shame if he took everything off so soon. you feel a warm wet muscle trace around your areola, building anticipation. his other hand plays with it too, not once touching the nerve ending that is angrily sticking out and demanding attention. he finally gives in, closing his lips around the tense bud and ever so lightly grazes it with the tip of his tongue.

you gasp, arching your back from the mattress. his hand is quick to find its place on your stomach, pushing your body back down and caressing your skin along the way.

"atta girl." he praises, seeing just how obedient you are for him.

his teeth graze your nipple, then gently tug at it. you twitch, hands flying towards him in hopes to grab his hair. he is quick to grab your wrists, pinning your hands above your head.

"i'm the one doing the exploring, angel. you lay there for me like the patient pretty doll you are."

you nod, immediately becoming still. his fingers find a path down your stomach, to the line of your panties. he caresses the skin right above your clit, circling it, grazing the inside of your thighs, your folds, all while ignoring the burning place right in the middle of all that. your hips almost buck into his hand, but you remember to be good. he pushes the panties aside, revealing you to himself and the camera.

"oh, so pretty." he exhales.

you hear him put his fingers in his mouth, coating them in saliva, then dip between your folds. you whine when he touches the tip of your clit, spinning it in circles and making you gasp for air. your hands are still pinned above your head, and his knee is fast to hold your legs open by pressing the inside of your thigh into the mattress. he then dips his fingers below, first one, then two. the feeling of strange and a little uncomfortable is back, but when he starts pumping in and out at a slow pace, occasionally curling his fingers up, you are a moaning mess. you can hear just how wet you are for him, and each time he buries his fingers deep inside of you, you have to fight the urge to moan louder.

"wish you could see just how well you're taking me."

you remember how absolutely hot it looked that night, seeing his fingers disappear inside of you.

"good, good girl. one more? think you can handle?"

there is two already, but you still nod. he adds another finger, deliciously stretching you out and giving you trouble breathing. it seems like hours have passed, and wooyoung is still content with fingering you at a pace that is too slow even for you. he is enjoying the sounds and view you are offering him, and is too mesmerized by the way he is so smoothly disappearing inside of you, all while you breathe heavily and buck your hips into his hand.

you feel your wrists become free. sore, but free. wooyoung then grabs something from the nightstand, and shuffles with it for a few moments. you hear light buzzing, and your heart jumps a little. fuck, he is doing everything just right. as if he entered your mind and stole all your wishes.

he brings it to your nipple, circling it just like his tongue is circling your clit. you are overwhelmed, struggling to keep still like he instructed.

"wooyoung-" you whine.

"i know, baby. feels so good, doesn't it?" he coos, sending shivers up your spine.

"yeah," you whine again, not quite capable of doing anything else.

"yeah," he hums. "you're doing a very good job, angel. hold on tight for me. don't let go just yet."

he is taking his sweet time, acting like this is only the beginning of a very long movie. you feel like cumming, and you don't want to do that just yet. you're having too much fun, and the buildup is much more pleasurable than the orgasm itself. at least you think so. his voice is soothing, low and raspy, and that alone is enough to make you feel like you came ten times already.

his tongue dives between your folds again, adding the third source of pleasure and shooting arrows to your core. you tremble under his passionate licks, thighs struggling to stay open. he hums into your clit, vibrations matching the ones on your nipple. he spins the gadget around your buds, slowly, then teases the areola again. you hear yourself become louder and louder, and he doesn't seem to mind. it's killing you that you can't see him. he must surely look gorgeous between your legs, working his tongue on you like it's his last feast.

his plush lips close around the tip of your clit, gently tugging it, tongue spinning it in slow circles just how you like it. but today, it all seems a little too slow. you are eager to see just how he will make you cum. maybe you can take two?

"how much longer?" you ask, feeling a bit stupid.

"oh, so much longer. i'm not letting go of you just yet."

the time is slow, and pleasure still bearable. you don't know how much longer you can hold. luckily, he pulls away from you, just in time. you feel his wet digits trail your bottom lip, as if asking permission to enter. you open your mouth, taking in the arousal that exists just for him. you taste yourself on his fingers, working your tongue around them so that you don't just lay completely useless. he hums, watching you swirl around them, and letting them go with a little suck at the end.

"i'm going to make you feel so good, princess. give you the best treatment you'll ever get."

you feel all fluttery and fidgety from his words. you could listen to him forever.

"come here."

you feel him sit behind you, back resting against the wall, and his hands pull you into his lap. your bare back rests against his built chest, and you can't help but hum at the sensation. he chuckles, loving every bit of reaction you have to give him.

"face reveal?" he reads a comment, and you become tense in his hands. "no."

the firm no has you grabbing his thighs, legs automatically spreading for him to continue abusing your clit and hole. his fingers move your hair out of the way of your chest, and gently tuck it behind your ears.

"so pretty." he coos again, leaving a kiss on top of your head.

you melt into his arms at his never ending praises, and you can't get enough. you wish to be called pretty all day long. you wish to be kissed like that for the rest of your life. you love how desired he makes you feel.

"are you real?" you mumble, lost in the soft vibrations that are circling your entrance.

he laughs, then kisses your shoulder. "very much, sweetheart."

"it feels too good. you feel too good."

"i know, baby. i know."

the gadget on your cunt is small, and still at a low speed. he uses his other hand to spread your folds, enough to start inserting the small vibrator inside. you yelp a little, the stretch wider than his fingers.

"easy," he whispers, "just like that..."

he fully inserts it, and you feel so full and in pain.

"i'm not going all the way, don't be afraid."

he pumps the toy in and out of you, enough to get you used to the new stretch. his other hand toys with your clit and tricks your brain into focusing on the pleasure rather than pain.

"wooyoung?"

"yes, love?"

"i thought you said you'd destroy me."

his movements stop. you bite your lip, trying to keep the smirk spreading on your lips. a gasp leaves your lips as his hand grabs your jaw, pulling your head back so that he can look at your face. he gets close, so close that your lips almost touch.

"is that what you want?"

his hot breath is so inviting, but when you reach to kiss him, he moves away, and grabs your jaw firmer.

"you want your tight little cunt to be destroyed? you want me to throw you around and use you like that toy you watched me fuck? you want me to fuck the feeling for the other guy out of you? so that you don't see nobody else but me? so that your pussy only fits on my cock? so that your body only responds to me?"

you are breathless as he spills all his intentions out, with each sentence sending goosebumps all over your body.

"that what you want? for me to fuck you dumb?"

"yes." you simply say.

you expected him to push you down on the bed. you expected him to pull your hair. you expected him to degrade you, spank you, and whatnot. but what you did not expect was the gentle tug of the blindfold, and a caress of your cheek as his grip on your jaw softened. you open your eyes, and meet his dark ones.

"are you sure?" he asks quietly.

"what?" you act dumb.

"you want me to...?"

"i want you to fuck me." you finally say it.

it seems like he has stopped breathing for a moment. he takes a few seconds to examine your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. when he sees none, he places the silk on your hands, tying them up and placing them in your lap.

"i meant what i said," he speaks to you and only you now, back turned towards the camera. "i am going to take a good care of you. remember your safety word?"

"mocha."

"good girl." he places a kiss on your forehead, then pushes you to lay down.

you watch him unbutton his pants, finally seeing more of that v-line you are suddenly very obsessed with. he throws them on the floor, along with the boxers, letting his cock free from the grip of the fabric. your jaw drops at the size. not enormous, but still too big for your virgin self. this is going to hurt like hell.

"can i suck you off?" you ask, subconsciously doing the big eyes thing he so much loves.

"are you sure? i wanted this to be about you."

"i'm sure." you say, eager to get a taste of him. "just, uh... guide me?"

"with pleasure."

he lays on the bed, elbow holding his upper body up as his other hand brings your face close to his cock. you didn't think it would look this clean and... pretty. you stick your tongue out, finally getting a taste of him. he hums, throwing his head back. you lick up from the base to the tip, immediately taking him in your mouth. he gasps, not expecting it so soon. he fills your mouth deliciously, resting against your tongue as his precum spills down your throat. he feels smooth, and very hot.

"god, so good," he groans, hand reaching for your hair to guide you up and down.

you bob your head up and down, too impatient to go slow like he did. you want to hear him more, knowing that you are the reason for those sounds and words.

"even your mouth is so tight, i might cum if you continue." he pulls your head away.

"you're so mean," you whine.

"i know," he coos for the third time today, knowing just what it does to you. "let me take care of you."

you try to lay down, but he holds you in place. you are confused. does he want to jump to some insane positions right away?

"missionary hurts. we will try something else. that good?"

you nod, and he sits against the wall again. he pulls you towards him, finally kissing you again. he showers you with soft kisses, and even though he promised whatnot, you are still experiencing a very soft and gentle version of him. you like it, but the thought of all the things he has listed for you is making your blood boil with excitement.

his hands cup your ass, raising your body and slowly bringing it towards his cock. you look down, noticing that a condom is already sitting on it. when did he manage to do that?

"slow," he whispers, guiding your hips so that you slowly start to sit on him, "just like that. good job."

you yelp at the uncomfortable stretch, and knowing that the pain is yet to come, you put your still tied hands around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. inch by inch, he disappears inside of you, leaving no space empty. you feel so full and uncomfortable, your teeth sink into his shoulder to stop the loud moans of pain.

"hold onto me, love. it'll be better."

you forget the camera. you forget yunho. you forget san. you forget your feelings towards the other man. you will enjoy this, even if it was your last.

"can i move?"

"yes."

he keeps you close to him, lifting your hips slowly up and down. you hear the comment section flooding, and glance over at the laptop on the nightstand. each money donation makes a sound, and right now, there is tons of them. you enjoy all the praises written in the comments, talking about how well you are taking him, how obedient you are, and how innocent you look. you like it all a little too much.

wooyoung speeds up the pace, hips finally colliding with yours with a bigger force. you don't let go of his shoulder just yet, still focusing on the pleasure and trying to ignore the pain. he is a groaning mess, and little did you know that he has to use every ounce of self control in him to not just slam you on the bed and fuck you open for him. he grips your hips, sure to leave bruises afterwards, and keeps the same pace for a while.

"feeling okay?"

"yeah," you stutter between little gasps and moans.

"can i speed up?"

"yes, please."

the man finally lets himself loose, picking up your body by your waist and moving his own hips instead in a fast pace. your jaw drops, and your eyes roll back from the newfound point of pleasure. you are completely lost in his touch, scent and voice. he is grunting with each push, reaching deep inside of you and touching a particularly sensitive spot you didn't know you had.

"fuck, you're so wet." he hisses. “look how well you take me.”

having enough of the position, he finally throws you against the mattress, yet his gaze still has a hint of worry for you. when you smile, it's his sign to dive into your gardens again. the new position feels odd, and good in a new way. he reaches for a pillow, putting it under your hips for easier access, and finally fulfills his promise.

his hips dive into yours, colliding with force and awaking the orgasm inside of you. the pace isn't fast, it is just right. you have enough time to savour every delicious pump he delivers you.

"i want to cum so bad, please." you beg, feeling a bit overstimulated.

"just a little longer, hm?"

he speeds up the pace, grabbing your waist and practically slamming you against his cock, while his hips stay resting. you feel like that toy, being used like this. you can't help but develop a secret size kink, seeing how easily he is handling you and throwing your body around how he likes it. your eyes catch the gadget near him on the bed, and you grab it. his eyes are focused on the place you're connecting, admiring the view with scrunched eyebrows. he is so into it, that he doesn't even see you put the vibrating gadget on your clit. it is the sudden flood of comments again that makes him look away.

"chasing that orgasm like a thirsty little cumslut?"

you nod eagerly, focusing on the pool of pleasure threatening to spill over. a volcano waiting to erupt. a bottle of champagne waiting to pop.

"wooyoung-"

"go on, baby. i've tortured you enough."

you moan, grabbing his hand for support as you slowly reach the peak.

"cum on my cock like it's your last." he grunts.

it takes you over the edge. a river spilling over the highest cliffs, hitting hard against the pond and creating waves all the way to the shore. it is ripping through your body, and you swear you feel in in the ends of your hair and the tips of your toes. your back arches from the mattress, shaking as shock waves continue to exhaust your body. you are a moaning and whining mess, grabbing anything you can, from his arms and hair, to the mattress and pillows above your head.

"fuck, angel, i'm close too." he warns.

"use me," you whine, still in a hazy state. "use me like that fuck toy."

hearing you speak that way sends him over the edge too, fingers digging into the skin of your waist, and eyes rolling back as he moans and groans. his hips become sloppy, and you feel something warm spill inside of you. it takes a few more pumps for him to come down from his high, and when he is done, he lets himself fall on top of you.

he doesn't speak. doesn't move. just breathes and holds you in his embrace. you lay there for a while, trying to calm your breathing and come back to your senses. with a single tap on the keyboard, he shuts the live off, not even looking at it. he does it that often, he doesn't need to look.

his head finds peace in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his arms caress the place that is full of red marks from his hands. his breathing slows, and when you look down, you realize he has dozed off. you do too, holding him against your chest and replaying everything that just happened.

when you wake up, you see that the sky has gotten darker. you reach for the phone, checking the time so that you won't be late to your arrangement with yunho. but then, you see a notification just underneath the digits showing a young night.

a single message, with an attached screenshot of a very familiar room and familiar nude people.

yunho: i think i'm ready to let go. you've made it so much easier. goodbye.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@minimoniac @miriamxsworld @kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav

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