#because whether it’s great or terrible
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So Mr. Wooster contacted me recently to let me know that he's awfully braced about adding some of the original illustrations he got when he published his stories in magazines, but he's got a dilemma about the image descriptions and hasn't the foggiest idea how to solve it. And as his secretary, I would like to ask a question on his behalf.
#letters regarding jeeves#lrj#jeeves and wooster#bertie wooster#reginald jeeves#my dear friend dovand has been kind enough to provide ids for me because I am very much not great at them#but I feel like I always see conflicting opinions about whether or not alt text or in-post image descriptions are better#and much of the time those conflicting descriptions suggest that the other option is really terrible#and as someone who doesn't use a screenreader i'm not quite sure which one is right#i also have absolutely no idea how well the 'caption' section of substack for images works with screenreaders#so i'm putting the question to a vote. would greatly appreciate your feedback!
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raises my hand i actually like the concept of a shitty parent getting better i just hate when its used to be like "im good now so you should forgive me."
people grow and change and hurt people!!! and those hurt people deserve to move on without having to forgive their abuser!!!
#this is why i get defensive when ppl make all sorts of reasons why rhinedottir did what she did#if she killed dorian for being imperfect then whatever!! i hate her for that but you dont have to#not only does it go with her little mental break that she 100% had lets be honest#it also fits the “Perfectionist” thing that the sinners were trying so hard to achieve#it MAKES SENSE#even if its nuanced that doesnt make it ok!!! but at the same time i dont think shes 100% stuck to being a terrible person nor do i think++#shes always been a bad mother#i think she was a great mother before everything went downhill and honestly if she gained a sense of apathy towards her kids itd MAKE SENSE#ofc im not saying this is true. im just saying its possible and it doesnt take away from her as a character#elynas is just as reliable a source as albedo dare i say!!! he was not in a strange mindset bc he wasnt corrupt like durin#the way he described her was valid. so was albedos when he said she threatened to leave him.#if the trauma from the cataclysm is what caused everything#that makes sense#but its not an excuse and it doenst mean she had some extra hidden reason for what she did. sometimes people are bad people!!! clearly she+#did SOMETHING right with albedo because he has a sense of morality. but even so you can TELL shes not a good mom EVEN TO HIM#i dont know where im going with this im getting turned around UHM#TLDR; shes a terrible mother. and a pretty bad person. but that doesnt mean im saying shes evil without nuance#it just means what it sounds like#plenty of parents fucking SUCK without meaning to. whether she cared or not she was still a pretty bad mother. thats all im saying#im willing ot talk about her but im NOT willing to have people argue that any of her children deserved what they got.#not albedo and NOT dorian.#elynas to dorian to albedo is a great pipeline for her as a character. which is why i like to believe elynas came first;#alfisol and dorian came close to last#and then albedo came last long after the others#every character has nuance however i am allowed to dislike them despite that#tzu rambles#that said i understand how it comes off as biased when i only talk about her children but unfortunately her children are the only reason i+#know about her at all. thye are my favorites and my content centers around them </3
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DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 13 / 31 * ACROPHOBIA 」
October 27, 1985A
No.
That one single word repeats on a loop in Emmett’s head, drowning out his capacity for rational thought. It is a mantra, a curse, a promise, the culmination of all the anger and desperation that has suddenly seized both his heart and his mind, grinding both to an abrupt halt as a biting chill freezes him from the inside out.
Every word of caution he once spoke loses all meaning, for there is only one option available to him now.
Abusing this could have potentially universe-shattering repercussions.
Were he thinking rationally, Emmett might have been concerned with how readily he throws caution and concern to the wind, infusing the words let it with all the cynicism and damning finality he can muster.
Any universe that allows this to happen is better off undone.
This isn't what it was invented for.
The Time Machine was not meant to make him God, able to interfere with the lives and fates of those standing beneath him with their eyes glued to the pulsing lights hovering over their heads, just out of reach, but just this once, he will allow himself to break every single one of his rules and consciously rewrite the past for his own selfish gain.
He has already done it for you.
If there is some higher being, Emmett both curses and challenges Them in the same breath, daring Them to intervene.
Only the DeLorean speaks, rumbling her support.
His hands move independent of his conscious mind, inputting a new destination time on the keypad. In mere moments, this will not have happened, will never happen, existing only within the confines of memory where it will serve as another cautionary tale for the future.
A reminder. One he will not forget, as if he needed further reason to see the destruction of his life’s work through to its conclusion.
Beneath him, unimportant and inconsequential, the collective sea of denim and leather gasps, cowering as a flying monster snarls, setting the sky ablaze.
#back to the future#bttf#bttfdoctober#doctober 2024#so i'm a firm believer that doc very much has a handle on himself emotionally - he's very familiar with himself and also an expert at#focusing on the task at hand when it's absolutely necessary#doc definitely tries to be more logical than emotional when he can get away with it but doc's a very deep-feeling man; it's not always#the case#but that being said there are definitely things that'd be able to shatter doc's normally attempted rational behaviour and completely#derail any reasonableness he might have and they're typically tragedies - terrible tragedies - the kind in which he'd say fuck the#integrity of the timeline (more or less) because even doc simply can't stand for that#and whether you subscribe to the idea or not about that moment on top of biff's casino in 1985a and doc's perfectly timed arrival#it's definitely interesting to think about and there's certainly a reality out there in the great multiverse where it did happen#and you better believe doc would do everything in his power to change that#also the idea of the a flying object that can't be seen very well by the population of a twisted hill valley in 1985?? mmmmmm#x-files theme plays#I just love thinking about certain characters driven to extremes out of love and obligation okay it just gets me some kind of way#like. ugh. the commitment. the love. the desperation. that kind of bond is everything - platonic or romantic it doesn't matter
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blah blah blah YES norman was going to allow ruby to partake in contests. doesnt change the fact he beat him up lol!
#i think that rlly does show his character more than anything. like his reasoning for finally allowing him to do it is literally#''i still dont approve and still want him to pursue battling but hes turning 11 so he can make his own decisions in life. i didnt#like him doing it before because he was a child'' <- norman very much has the ''children must do exactly as their parents say'' mentality#which is not rlly great. esp since it is implied that he became abusive when ruby would NOT do as he said#and even besides that. the fact that once ruby runs away norman becomes so unbelievably violent with him is literally all that matters#in a discussion of whether norman is a good dad or not. it literally does not matter that he changed his mind and was going#to allow ruby to do contests WHEN HE STILL BEAT HIM UP FOR RUNNING AWAY!!!!!!!! NOTHING ELSE MATTERS!#he physically abused ruby in a very violent manner (and again its implied this isnt new behavior for him. norman is also just shown#to be a very violent person in general. destroying things when hes angry shoving random people etc etc)#he couldve fucking cured cancer he couldve wholeheartedly supported ruby's contest career for all i care#anything good he does is overshadowed by his abuse of ruby. i dont think norman is an entirely 100% EVIL person#i dont even think that he doesnt care about ruby. but he is a terrible abusive father regardless and nothing can change that#norman does have nuances. and he is still terrible and in my eyes irredeemable. those things can coexist#(i cant remember exactly where things end up esp once he dies. so i'll reserve any comments about how the NARRATIVE views#norman until after ive finished R&S in its entirety)#but yeah. him planning on giving ruby permission to do contests literallyyyyy does not change anything#serena.txt#pksp reread#ruby & sapphire reread
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I was actually having a pretty good day until just now :/
#i reread and made notes for two solid hours! 15k of words!#i went for a walk and got ransom a toy and stocked up on chocolate (my excuse is that sometimes when i'm feeling awful eating a bit of#chocolate helps lol and this stuff was 50% off) and generally had a good walk!#and i had a bath. first bath of the season! and i read like hafl of out of hte silent planet while i was bathing and it was wonderful!#mum made the BEST ginger pudding today!#so like. i've had a great day today!#so many blessings!#and now i just feel awful because i ate something and i wanna throw up and i mustn't#been struggling more with dealin w eating lately too at times and in the last week have been deviating from what the dietitian's been#encouraging me (variety) bc i couldn't deal with it#but today was a good day! a great day! and now i feel terrible for no apparent reason#yay me :/#puddleglum hours#personal#incidentally am SO grateful for the job that requires me to wear short sleeves bc i know that by now i would've harmed deep enough to scar#on my arms as well if i hadn't had the knowledge that the next day id have to be at work w that. the reason this is coming up rn is#bc SURPRISE i rlly wanna harm#and i CAN'T my mother found my knife. honestly even having it htere whether or not i used it felt like it gave me an option even if i#didn't take it. it was a comfort. and now it feels awful not having it esp as idk when i'll get it back and also even worse my parents#litcherally gave me that knife for my last birthday. i don't know how mum feels about that#but yeah i just. i want to do smth drastic so bad#and i CAN'T#tw sh#i don't even know why#ugh
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the whole csm discourse on twitter is so dumbbbbb oh my god😭
#like fujimoto writes interesting women … why is that so controversial HXKXHDJDN#i feel like ppl are so used to hating male shounen writers that they can’t stand when a good writer gets complimented 😭#he’s not the father of girlhood or whatever like that’s a p dumb title anyways but the way he writes asa’s character and depicts her#specific girlhood is so cool !! that should be celebrated if anything smh#tbh i kinda wish there would stop being a war between whether shoujo or shounen is better or male or female writers are better#bec both are dynamic and have great and terrible characters + writing#shoujo has a lot of flaws as do female authors but they are different to flaws of shounen and male authors#not to mention men can write for shoujo and women can write for shounen too#shoujo struggles w misogyny too !!!!!#i think it’s more of a societal problem imo#this is a v interesting topic of debate tho i’m sure im missing a lot of nuances but#in the end i think fujimoto is doing a great job and we shouldn’t discredit his successes by saying it’s the bare minimum?#there’s not a linear scale for writing women where 0 is bad and 5 is minimum and 10 is amazing#fujimoto depicts varied women (some written well some not) and his cast of women is so dynamic and interesting and so human !!! i think that#this is something we should see more of! it’s not the bare minimum for me because his characters like quanxi and kobeni and power are so#fulfilling to me#anyone can write amazing and terrible stories regardless of their gender#like their gender definitely influences the type of character they write but i think authors should be seen as a collective instead of#judged upon depending on what gender they are?#many thoughts lol
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YEAH NO TONBI GOT HANDS.......... my timing on suggesting it may be Questionable but I AM very glad it holds up as a movie :] hopefully the interview and We Make Antiques are fun diversions! But also take it easy <3 can confirm Nakai is Pretty Moe in both though <3 And I WILL harass you about Masato's VA next week...
TBF YOU SUGGESTED IT A WEEK OR SO AGO twas on me for taking a while to get to it... nevertheless i did really enjoy it thank you..... AND YAYA IM SO STOKED TO WATCH THE FULL INTERVIEW AND WMA2 THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN ☆*: .。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆!!!!!
esp cant wait to hear about masato's VA in the future.. 👁️👁️
#snap chats#LISTEN i think we all just have to accept at this point any time there's a story about a doting father or fts a doting father#i will cry like its unavoidable. so whether my life's falling apart that week or everything's fine#There Will Be No Difference In How Much I Cry ☠️☠️ im just built terribly what can i say it makes for GREAT inspo tho#tonbi WAS real cute tho and i did enjoy it a lot Because yasu did remind me of my dad a lot#very lucky to say my dad's never slapped me or thrown water in my face tho so LMAO BUT FOR THE MOST PART Yeah...#in a way it weirdly felt like watching an AU of my life. if i may sound insane. listen i already said the kid's name had me twisted LISTEN#fr tho cause ive always wondered what my life wouldve been like if i was able to be raised by my dad instead#im gonna make myself start crying if i get too deep into it LMAO NEEDLESS TO SAY i really enjoyed the movie :)#EVIL that they really did let us see akira get married and now yasu gotta give a speech and If He IS Anything Like My Dad#i know damn well he was winging it and didn't prep a script and I Will Start Crying if i think back to my sis's wedding#STILL MAD THAT THE ONE TIME I HAD TO PISS WAS RIGHT BEFORE HIS SPEECH BUT WHATEVER MOVING ON#said i wasnt gonna talk bout the movie/my dad anymore lest i make myself UPSET yet here i am... always saying more when i shouldnt ☠️#but yeah... i have ONE (1) more comm this week Lest Someone Wants To Snipe A Spot IDK#SO im gon do that :]#and im kinda tired rn... but the uncertainty of how much time i have nowadays urges me to work on it a bit#i dont THINK it should take super long but it IS a full-rendered piece so.... it will take time needless to say#n e way not to sound insane but nakai is An Endearing Chap. is the most sane way i can put it#i mentioned it durin a stream but somethin bout him just naturally exudes cute... idk... im delirious probably ANYWAY BYE FR NOW#CANNOT WAIT for next week to be harassed 🥰🥰
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♪ Snakes and stones never broke my bones ♪
Taylor Swift | You Need To Calm Down
#// whether or not it is because she is surrounded by an outstandingly strong barrier of loving energy#// that she both gives out and receives in#// i have always admired her resilience and how she seems to make it unscathed or more powerful than before out of every terrible situation#// it has definitely been inspiring too!#// have some unbothered taylor swift for the summer!#// aaaaahhh!!! and she looks so great in pink!!!#// one last thing: the yellow floater... 🙈🙉🙊#// don't you get a significant boost of confidence when you wear/carry yellow or just have it nearby?#// it's like “this thing is already being immodest so might as well...”#// even if it's not your color 😫#// that's all for now 👀#Bits of/from/about Artists#Highlighted Artworks#music#music videos#taylor swift
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Heart to Heart
Aemond x Wife Reader
Summary: Aemond spends time with your child so that you can have a much-needed break.
A/N: I'm back with more, Dad!Aemond, because I adore him so much. Aemond deserves someone who will love him as deeply and unconditionally as he loves them, and his baby definitely would. (Also, any dialogue in italics means the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was too lazy to attempt to translate it.) No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.
“Daenys, please calm down,” you plead as you try to pacify the wailing girl.
Though your words seem to fall on deaf ears, she continues to scream and flail in your arms. You want nothing more than to join in as tears well in your eyes. You were at your wit's end. Nothing seemed to placate your child. Not even the sweets you had tried to bribe her with.
The nursemaids had changed her nappy several times. They’ve tried feeding, bathing, offering toys, and even taking her for a walk in the gardens. Yet none of it worked. They brought her to you as a last resort, hoping she might be missing her mother. Unfortunately, their hopes went unfounded.
Daenys continued to thrash in your arms, and you struggled to keep a grip on her. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small.
“Shh, it’s alright,” you coo, bouncing the fussy girl in your arms. “Are you tired? Shall we take a nap?”
Your questions only incite her fury. Daenys lets out an ear-splitting screech. You groaned, eyes closing in frustration at the situation.
“How about we give your mother a break, hmm?”
You look up, finding your husband now standing before you. He takes your little girl into his arms, and for the first time in forever, she settles down. She doesn’t squirm and try to get away from him, and her wails turn into low whimpers and quiet hiccups. You watch as he handles her with such ease. Aemond pats her back and talks to her in a soothing voice, gently bouncing her in his arms. Daenys rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny fists held tightly onto his coat.
“I’m terrible at this,” you huffed, shame blooming in your chest.
“No, you’re not.” Aemond leaned down, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to your head. “I’ll take her for a bit. Get some rest.”
You nod, grateful for his help. He waves Daenys’ hand towards you as they leave. You wave back until the pair disappear from your view. You sigh in relief as your body slumps onto the Grecian couch beneath you. You debate whether to continue with your book or take a quick nap.
-
Aemond holds Daenys close to his chest as he maneuvers himself off his saddle. Ser Rickard Thorne stands to the side, wearing his freshly polished armor and pristine white cloak. Aemond nods at him, and the white knight quickly takes Aemond’s horse by the reins, leading the horse away.
The dragon lord looked down, watching Daenys as she toyed with the wooden dragon in her hands. He smiled. The familiar warm fuzzy feeling that filled his entire body every time he laid his eyes on her returned. It was hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent could come from him. But here she was. The two of you had created something- someone so precious.
A loud grumble sounded in the air. Aemond lifted his head, observing Vhagar. The giant dragon was hard to miss, even from a great distance.
The overgrown grass and twigs squish and cackle beneath his boots as he walked into the open field where the ancient she-dragon resided. Vhagar had outgrown the dragonpit years before he had even claimed her. Vhagar turned her giant head to the side, watching them as they approached. She shut her eyes again when she realized it was just him.
Daenys let out a delighted squeal when her eyes finally landed on the giant dragon. Aemond struggled to hold her as she excitedly kicked her legs and waved her arms. Aemound cursed under his breath as the wooden dragon toy fell to the ground. Oh well, he would retrieve it later.
“What is it, my little dragon?” He asked enthusiastically. “What do you see?”
Daenys clapped her little hands and babbled, “Vava!”
“Vhagar? Do you see Vhagar?”
She looks up to him and nods her head. Her violet eyes lock onto his, and the two smile at each other. Aemond planted a kiss on the girl’s temple, gaining sweet, girlish giggles in response.
“Very good, my little dragon. It is Vhagar.”
Daenys begins to squirm in his arms and tries to push him away.
“What is it? Do you want down?”
Aemond looks down at the grass, checking for any potential dangers. Your little girl grunts and continues to try to push him away.
Aemond huffs, “Alright, alright.”
His lips curve downward into a slight frown. The two of you had been very proud and excited when Daenys started walking. However, Aemond was a little saddened by the fact that his sweet little girl didn’t want to be in his arms all the time anymore.
His mother had told him that it’s normal for them to want to be more independent when they start walking. The man understood that, but he still did not like it one bit.
Aemond carefully lowers the little girl to her feet. Her chubby little fingers hold onto his hands as she tries to stabilize herself. When she finally stops wobbling, she lets go. Aemond’s heart races in his chest as he watches her take a small, shaky step forward. His hands immediately reach out to grab her, but he stops himself.
Daenys takes another step; this time, she’s a bit more stable. She holds her arms out, trying to balance her weight as she trots forward. Aemond follows closely behind. With each step, he felt a twinge of panic in his chest. The man struggled not to swoop her into his arms every time she stumbled.
Thankfully, they made it to Vhagar rather quickly. Vhagar gave a small huff as Daenys small hands smacked against her snout.
“Gentle,” Aemond warned sternly, well aware of his dragon's short temper.
The man kneeled next to her. He took one of Daenys little hands into his own, showing her how to pet Vhagar’s snout carefully. Daenys let out another excited squeal that made Aemond wince.
“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s very exciting, but we must be quiet.”
Daenys pulled her hand away from his, wanting to try it alone. Vhagar remained still, resting lazily on her chin. Aemond stood back up. He rested his large palm against her warm green scales with a joyous smile. She truly is a sight to behold.
Vhagar was the largest and fiercest dragon in the world. Nothing could stand against her. And yet she decided that he, of all people, was worthy of her. That he deserved the privilege to call himself her rider. No one could question or deny his worth now.
“Vava, pay?”
Aemond looked down, watching as his little girl tried to get the dragon’s attention. Her silver curls fell onto her face. The man reached down, pushing the strands of hair behind her ears. He felt a bit sorry for her. Vhagar was nowhere near as active as Daenys' little hatchling, who resided in the dragon pit. She did not flap her wings or let out any shrieks of excitement like Daenys’ hatchling did when they saw each other.
Daenys tugged on his coat. She turned her head up to look at him. Her brows were drawn together, and her bottom lip protruded further than her top lip. The look on her face tugged at his heartstrings.
“Play? No, Vhagar does not want to play.”
Your little girl does not seem to accept his answer. She turns her attention back to the dragon, gently petting her scales a few more times. Daenys tries calling out to her again, but Vhagar still gives no response. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Aemond initially planned to take her to the dragon pit, but he decided against it. Mostly because he wanted to come out and visit Vhagar. He could seldom go a day without coming to see his winged companion.
Suddenly, a loud grumble echoed in Vhagar’s throat. The dragon, finally having enough of the child’s affection, raised her head. Daenys, who was balancing herself on Vhagar’s head, fell back, landing on her bottom with a loud oomph.
“Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī,” Aemond commanded as he swiftly took Daenys into his arms.
Vhagar did not move, nor did she make a sound. The ancient dragon merely eyed the two of them. When Aemond felt confident enough that she would not act, he turned his attention to Daenys.
The look on her face is heart-wrenching. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and her trembling lips stretched into a deep frown. Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. It makes Aemond feel like he wants to cry as well. He pressed a kiss to the child’s temple.
“Don’t cry, my little love. You’ll be alright.” He tried to reassure her.
She blinks, and tears fall from her violet eyes. Sad, quiet whimpers escape from her lips. Tears started to well up in Aemond’s eye, his breath quivered, and a lump formed in his throat. He was never one to cry. It made him feel weak and small, something he despised more than anything.
But when his little girl was upset like this, he wanted to cry. Sometimes, he still wanted to cry even when she wasn’t upset. There were many times when he would just watch her while she played or slept, and then suddenly, he would be hit with a massive wave of emotions. Aemond wondered if Viserys had ever felt that way when he looked at him or any of his siblings.
Vhagar let out a loud huff. A wave of hot air engulfs Aemond and Daenys. Aemond looks up, observing Vhagar carefully. The green dragon lowers her head, gently nudging her snout against the crying girl. Aemond raises his hand to wipe away Daenys’ tears.
“Look, she’s sorry for making you sad.”
Daenys sniffled and turned to look at Vhagar. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. She giggled as she rested her forehead against Vhagar’s snout. Her little arms did their best to hug the dragon’s giant head.
Aemond chuckled lightly, raising his hand to give Vhagar a few rewarding pats. His chest was bursting with pride as he watched his favorite girls interact. The only one who was missing was you.
#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen imagine#x reader#x fem!reader#house of the dragon#house targaryen#fire and blood#hotd#girldad!aemond#dad!aemond#fluff#soft!aemond
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BAD IDEA, RIGHT?
Bangchan x reader. (s)
Synopsis: Your ex, Chan, makes a return to his social media with a thirst trap. Horny and bored, you decide to see him for the sole reason of getting your physical needs fulfilled. However, as the night goes, you start to wonder if seeing him tonight is a bad idea. (14,4k words)
Author's note: Yes, it's inspired by that one Olivia Rodrigo song.
Talking to your ex is a bad idea, right?
You've been considering whether to slide into his DM or not, commenting on his Instastory which is a video of him exercising half naked, exposing his toned upper half body in all its glory.
It's been two years after the breakup and he didn't post anything on his social media until today, it's like he knows you're bored and horny.
It's unclear whether it's him or it's your uterus talking, but he looks hotter, sexier, and bigger than the last time you saw him. Although you must admit that he's always been attractive to you, except that his attractiveness is on a whole 'nother level now and it makes you wonder why you let this man go in the first place.
In your defense, Chan is not a terrible ex, he decided to break up with you because he was leaving to study abroad and thought the long-distance relationship would be hard and mentally draining for both of you.
You acted like it didn't hurt you but when you came home that night, you cried so hard that your pillow got drenched in tears. You didn't want to break up with him because he's a great guy who happens to be great in bed too, not only because he has the most delicious cock you've ever had but he also knows how to put it to a good use. Simply put, you were so devastated thinking that you'd never find a man like him again.
And you know what? You were right. You tried dating a few times but nothing comes close to what you had with Chan. Also, can't two people reconnect?
Before you get to change your mind again, you decide to hit the like button and send a short message in his DM.
Hey, there. You type into the message box, adding a smiling emoji at the end to make it sound casual but friendly at the same time.
There's no reply or a sign that he's read your message, you figure he must be busy on a Saturday morning, he could be having another session at the gym or having breakfast, or... yeah, it could be him ignoring your messages.
Slightly hangover from hanging out with your friends last night, you slump down your bed and close your eyes to get another few minutes of sleep.
You wake up an hour later with more than a dozen notifications on your phone, they're mostly your friends sending photos they took of you last night. You groan when you see a couple of work emails and do not think twice to skip them. There are some texts from friends and then, there it is, a reply from Chan.
Well, hello, there!
It's been ages.
How are you?
You check the time and his replies came about fifteen minutes ago, there's a possibility that he's still on his phone and he'll respond faster this time.
Never been better.
How about you?
Looking fine as ever, I see.
You add the eyes emoji before hitting the send button and drop your phone onto the bed, it's a bit risky but a compliment never hurt. Besides, who doesn't like getting a compliment?
The thought that Chan is probably waiting for your reply in those fifteen minutes amuses you but pfft... that's just your wishful thinking.
As you wait for his response, you're checking the photos your friends sent you. You check them one by one, deleting the ones that you don't like and saving the good ones where you look flattering.
An idea pops into your head as you go through your gallery: a plan. First, you choose a photo of you that shows your whole look last night, dressed in a blue mini dress and strappy heels with your hair up, tied in a messy bun, in other words, you looked hot and you felt like it when your friend took the picture.
You upload it as your Instagram story and wait until it is successfully uploaded. You're sure as hell he'll see your new post, then he'll get curious and open it, and Wowza!
Chan thinks he can be the only one posting a thirst trap on a Saturday morning, huh?
It only takes a minute for the thirst trap to do its job, you smirk at the notifications and see Chan's username on the top.
Me? He adds three flustered emojis to it.
Nah. I'm not.
But you...
You look beautiful as always.
Is it even allowed to look that beautiful?
A year of being single makes you weak at the slightest chance of romance, you catch yourself smiling to yourself in the mirror. You slap yourself to get ahold of yourself, reminding yourself that he could say that just to—
A notification pops up and it shows that Chan liked and reacted to your Instagram story with the hearts eyes emoji. Fuck! You just caught yourself smiling again. but what can you do? You're just a girl who is lonely and in need of some loving touch.
You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and think about what to reply to him.
And you...
Is it even allowed to have that much of muscles?
Someone, please close the gym!
You look good nonetheless, Chris.
But seriously, close the gym! You add a laughing emoji to keep it playful.
You patiently wait for his reply but your patience only lasts for twenty minutes until he makes you wait longer for his reply and you slump on the bed again.
It's time for plan number two!
The thirst trap worked to pique his interest and you have to come up with something that shows you're a hot commodity, you don't waste your time chasing boys, they chase you. That way, Chan will respond to your message faster.
So here comes plan number two, you take another trip to your gallery, scrolling through photos from last night, and find the perfect photo. It's a picture of you and one of your male friends, you're standing side by side, holding your drinks together and smiling to the camera. There's enough friendliness in there to show that you're close with this guy but also, not that close. You don't know how to explain it, but you know it'll work.
You wait a few more minutes to add it to your Instagram story, not forgetting to tag your friend which is the best part of it. If anyone checks his account, they'll see a model with blue eyes, just the perfect guy to make certain someone is jealous.
You're devilishly laughing as you hit the post button and wait until it is successfully uploaded. You check to see the final result and smile in satisfaction.
Okay, maybe you were too haste and didn't do your calculation right because morning has turned into afternoon and Chan hasn't replied to you. Not only did he make you wait, but you also wasted three hours of your day staring at the ceiling with the phone resting on your chest.
At this point, you should've given up and maybe it's true, he only replied just to be friendly, nothing more. You fling your phone across the bed out of spite and get up, planning to wash him away from your head with a hot shower.
Against the loud sound of the hairdryer, you hear your phone chimes and you turn it off to check whether you're imagining it chimes or not.
You hate how quickly you forget how upset you were a while ago after seeing your phone light up with new notifications.
I'm sorry for replying late.
I was busy moving some stuff.
Do you have time?
And you hate it more that he can easily get your hopes up again. You figure it's time he tastes his own medicine, you put your phone away and leave him on read. You'll reply later when you feel like it, or never. Who knows?
You continue drying your hair but the constant hum of the hairdryer makes you unable to hear your thoughts, especially one that stops you from going to your phone again as it chimes with a new notification. It only takes twenty minutes for you to cave into the temptation.
I don't know about you but all these chats, they're not enough.
Can we video call instead?
It takes you not even a minute to say yes to him. You make a run to your closet and change your clothes, picking up a white top with a low neckline, ditching the bra, and pairing it with denim shorts.
Chan doesn't give you a minute to choose the setting of the video call, your phone rings as you try to make the bed as best as you can and sit with your back against the headboard of the bed.
The phone keeps ringing but you need to check your hair in the mirror again to finally accept the video call. A second later, Chan's face appears on your phone screen, and from his damp hair, it seems like he's just taken a shower too.
"Hey," he greets you as he brushes his curls with his hand.
"You look a little wet, Chris," you tease with a sly smile.
Chan moves, changing his sitting position and revealing himself in a bathrobe with his chest all exposed. Intentional or not, you must admit that's quite a show!
"I was feeling hot so I took a quick shower," he answers with a grin.
"Feeling hot, huh?" You tease again.
"I am now," he playfully responds, flashing you a sly smile and lip bite.
The two of you just stare at each other through the screen and it's getting too much for you with how intense his eyes are.
"So, where are you now?"
"I'm actually in the city," he shortly replies.
"Oh? You're back!" You gasp but hold yourself back from continuing the sentence and ask if he's back for good. The most important thing is he's confirmed his location, all you need to find out next is if he's up to do no good with you.
"Kind of," he vaguely answers.
"Kind of..." you teasingly repeat his words and then giggle.
Chan grins and rests his back against a pillow, it's unclear if he's sitting on the bed or the sofa, "Oh, how I missed that," he says.
You take a pillow and put it on your lap as something to hold on to, "Missed what?"
"Your sweet smiles and cute giggles," he shortly answers like he's been waiting for you to ask him that.
"Oh, stop it, Chris!" You respond, getting a little flustered that you melt onto your pillow. You may as well lie down on your stomach and put the pillow under your chest, "You're getting good at lying, huh?"
"Yeah. Nah. Just a little bit," he jokingly says, then bursts into laughter that his dimples sunken deep into his cheeks.
And oh, you missed his dimpled smiles and his sonorous laughter too, but you're not going to tell him that, maybe not now, or ever.
To avoid it escalating really quickly, you shift the conversation elsewhere. You prop a hand under your chin and tilt your head to the side while the other hand steadily holds your phone far enough from your face.
"So, what are you doing now?"
"Staring at your face," he answers, a half smirk decorating his rectangular face.
"Just my face?" You jokingly ask with a flirty lip bite.
"Everything else too," he adds, catching his eyes flicking down for a second then smirks.
You act oblivious to the fact that with the way you lie on your stomach, you're offering him a view of your cleavage and he would be stupid if he missed the sign.
"What I meant is what are you doing in the city? Is it for work or...?"
"I need to sort a few things," he vaguely explains.
It's obvious that he's keeping the details from you and you have to respect that, he's not your boyfriend and even if he is, he's not obligated to tell you everything. Including the possibility that he came here to see his new girlfriend, perhaps?
"Oh? So, all business, no pleasure?" You joke with a light chuckle, hiding your true intention to know whether he's seeing anyone or not.
"I'm free tonight and I was hoping that we could meet," He says, shattering the negative thoughts that rush through your head.
Now, that gets you thinking if he's coming here to see you and you get that fluttering feeling in your stomach, or it could be your uterus ovulating as you speak, either way, you like it.
"Tonight?" You ask, acting like you already have a plan for tonight.
"Yes. Or do you already have plans for tonight?"
The act always works, gosh, you should consider to start a career as an actor, "Not really, but uh... where do you want us to meet?"
"There's a nice bar in the hotel I'm staying in. We can have a drink or two," he replies, then licks his lips and makes them appear wet and fuller, tantalizing you to kiss them.
Despite you feeling like screaming and jumping on the bed, you remain coy about it, reminding yourself to not sound eager but show enough enthusiasm.
You pretend to consider it for a moment, tilting your head to the other way and saying, "Hotel bar has better drinks so... yeah, I'd love a drink or two."
A triumphant smile rises on his face and it's cute that he lets it show, making you feel a lot of things in a few seconds.
"I'll see you there, I mean, here at 8?"
You tug your middle finger between your teeth and flash him a seductive smile, "Okay."
"I'll DM you the address."
"Okay," you mutter again while staring at him through the screen on your phone.
"See you tonight then," he says, touching his lips and rubbing the lower lip with his long, dainty finger.
"Can't wait to meet you," he adds.
Instead of answering him, you let out a giggle and sit up on the bed. You flip your hair to the back and just stare at him for a minute without saying anything.
"See you tonight, Chris," you finally reply, making sure to call his name with a low, sultry voice and a sly smile.
Without hesitation, you hang up first and let out a long sigh after. It's just a video call but Gosh! It feels like a foreplay already.
You give yourself a moment to compose yourself before execute plan number three: Dressed to fucking impress. To be honest, you don't even bother with the 'impress' part, you just want to fuck.
See? Talking to him is not a bad idea after all.
-
The sound of your high heels constantly tapping the marble floor as you walk echoes in the hotel lobby, you're unsure of how to inform him that you've arrived just a few minutes late from the appointed time.
You take your phone out of your purse and are about to compose a message when you catch him holding his hand up at you from the second floor.
You wave your hand back at him and make your way to the stairs, climbing each step with caution because it would embarrassing if you tripped. But looking at Chan waiting for you at the top of the stairs makes it feel like you're living a scene out of a movie.
Even with his signature all-black look, it doesn't make him less princely. He looks dreamy with crinkles in his eyes and a charming smile on his face.
He offers his hand when you're only a couple of steps away from him. You take it and let him guide you on the last steps of the stairs. His grip is firm as you remember and he still has his favorite chain bracelet around his wrist.
"You look gorgeous," he doesn't say it in a dramatic, hyperbolic way but he softly whispers it to you before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, so close to the corner of your mouth.
The night has just begun but he's already succeeded in making you quietly hold your breath. You put on a smile for him and coyly say, "You look stunning in black as... always."
He laughs and it feels like to see and hear it in person, like you can feel the warmth that his laughs emit.
"Want to have dinner first?" He asks.
"I've had dinner," you answer.
The truth is, you barely had dinner because you were too nervous to eat anything but you did eat a nutrition bar in the taxi.
"This way to the bar then?" He offers his arm at you like a true gentleman.
"Lead the way, sir!" You say as you link your arm around him.
It's only a short walk from the hotel lobby to the bar Chan mentioned, the interior is rather luxurious, leather seats with a live jazz performance. He mutters something to the hostess, probably where he prefers to sit and she nods in response.
"This way, please!" She says with a polite smile, walking like a feline creature in her tight skirt and silk blouse.
You glance to the side to see if Chan is looking at the pretty hostess in front of him, but you find him staring at you instead.
"Is there something on my face?" You ask in slight panic, afraid that you have something in your teeth but he feels bad to tell you.
"No," he simply answers.
"This way, sir, ma'am," the hostess says, gesturing to the booth she chooses for the two of you, a little hidden in the corner of the bar to provide some privacy.
Chan gently places his hand on the small of your back and lets you take a seat first. You have a seat in the middle of the curved sofa and he sits right next to you.
"Can we order drinks right away?" Chan asks as he puts his phone on the table.
"Sure," the hostess answers, slightly bending down to hear him talk clearly, "What would you like to have, sir?"
"I'll have the... Boulevardier," he eloquently says with a slight French accent.
"Excellent choice, sir!" She comments, she then turns her head at you to take your order, "How about you, ma'am?"
Things have been feeling a little surreal for these past few hours your brain is struggling to keep up, you want to be cool and confidently answer the fanciable hostess but it takes you a longer time to process a simple question like that.
"I'd love a daiquiri, please!" You answer, ignoring the fact that it takes you a minute to come up with it.
"Can I recommend you with the Hemingway special? It's a daiquiri with a splash of sweet grapefruit juice and Maraschino liqueur," she eloquently explains, proving that she's not only hired because of her look.
"That sounds amazing. I'd love that," you say with an impressed smile.
After confirming your orders, the hostess left the booth and it's just the two of you now in this nice yet slightly erotic setting of the bar.
"That's a nice dress," he suddenly compliments as he's looking at your face, not at your dress.
The dress goes to your midthigh, it's white and tight enough to showcase your curve. It's long-sleeved but the sweetheart neckline exposed just the right amount of skin. You've been saving it for a special occasion and considering that you haven't met him for two years, you reckon it's time to wear it.
"Just something I had, you know, lying around," you playfully answer.
The drinks come not long after and Chan waits until the server leaves to initiate a toast with you. Your drink is in a glass with a thin stem so you carefully lift it with your fingers.
"Cheers!" You mutter in unison and clink your glasses together.
The first round of drinks went with a conversation that consisted of basic questions. He asks you about work, family, life in general, and everything in between. You must admit that your life is kind of boring but it's nice to know that he wanted to catch up on your life updates.
It's a little disappointing though that he doesn't ask anything about your love life or whether you're seeing anyone or not.
When you deem that you're on the verge of oversharing, you stop talking and shift the focus to him.
"What about you? What are you working on at the moment?" You curiously ask, putting down your drink on the table and leaving one last sip on the fragile-looking glass.
"I'm working on a lot of things right now. From a lot of places too," he answers.
"So, you've been traveling a lot," you remark.
"Yes."
That says something about his relationship status and unless he has learned how to be in a long-distance relationship, then it means he's not seeing anyone right now. Even if he is, there's a big chance that it's noncommittal.
This calls for a celebration so you pick up your drink and drain every last drop of it, delightfully gasping once you swallow it.
"Round 2?" Chan offers.
"Yes."
Now that you've made up your mind about it and from the subtle signals he's sending you so far, it's safe to say that he's up to do no good with you. You smooth down the hem of your dress and flip your hair to the back, preparing yourself to execute plan number four: Make your intention known.
As much as you feel tempted to say 'Chris, let's fuck!' right to his face, you decide not to be haste and go with a more convenient, acceptable way. You plan to be forthright about your intention what you want and if he wanted the same too so the two of you can skip the formalities and go straight to the fucking.
"Chris, I have something to tell you," you say to him.
He positions his body slightly turns to the side to face you and softly smiles, "You can tell me."
You've mustered up the courage and have the words prepared in your head only for the moment to be ruined by your phone ringing in your purse.
"Fuck..." you quietly mutter to yourself, you could sense your courage shrinking inside you.
The phone has stopped ringing but you grab your purse on the space next to you and pull it out to check the caller. A new text message appears on your screen.
Call me. It's urgent. Your friend wrote in her text along with multiple red exclamation marks.
It seems rather urgent, you put on an apologetic smile at Chan and say, "I'm sorry but do you mind if I make a quick call?"
"Not at all," Chan says with an easy smile.
You take your phone with you as you get up from the sofa, leaving the booth at the same time the waiter comes with your second round of drinks.
Finding the way to the restroom, you hit the call button as you enter and stand in front of the sinks, waiting for your friend to pick up while checking for your hair and make-up in the mirror.
"What's the urgency?" You say the second you hear the call being picked up.
"I need to borrow your laptop. Mine is suddenly frozen and I can't reboot it," your friend answers in a rather distressed tone.
Knowing that it's not the kind of urgent you imagined in your head, you let out a sigh of relief and then say, "Yes, yes you can use my laptop."
"I'm already in the elevator to your floor."
"You have the code to my apartment and I'm sure you know where I put my laptop," you calmly tell her, putting the strands of hair to the side and carefully dabbing the skin under your eyes.
"Wait. You're not home?"
"I'm not and I'm not taking any more questions," you immediately stop her before she gets too nosy.
"Don't call me for the rest of the night. Bye!" You don't wait for a response and quickly hang up.
On the way back to your booth, you see Chan enjoying the jazz performance on the stage, tapping his foot against the floor. You didn't notice the way he sat until now, his legs spread open, he's slightly slumped and his long arm rests along the edge of the sofa, plus he left the top three buttons on his shirt open.
Chan looks so hot simply by sitting like that and you're sure you've seen much hotter men but you really can't remember when.
You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and slide into the booth again, then slowly sit on the sofa, leaving a gap between you and him.
"Here's your drink," he says, handing the glass to you with such caution.
"Thank you!" You mutter your gratitude.
You're glad that you're taking the recommendation because the Hemingway Daiquiri tastes so refreshing, it's sweet and sour, certainly an upscale from the classic daiquiri.
"I hope the call wasn't something bad," he says to you.
You lick your lips after taking a sip, "Oh, no. It was my friend. She needs to borrow something," you spare him from the details.
It takes a minute to remember where you left the conversation and when you finally recall, you need to take more time to prepare yourself again. You immediately take another sip to quicken the process of building up your courage.
"Can I tell you a secret?" He suddenly comes up with an unexpected request.
Your throat burns from accidentally swallowing your alcohol too fast and you can feel your eyes get teary as well.
"Sure," you manage to answer.
Somehow the gap you purposely put between you and him disappears, he sits so close to you that his knee bumps into yours.
"I've been stalking your Instagram page," he shares with a shy smile.
You snort because he makes it seem like it's an embarrassing thing to say, but you doubt if that's true, he could be saying that to make you feel flattered.
"As far as I can recall, you've been abandoning your account until today," you say, hardly believing his so-called secret.
"That's because I'm using a fake Instagram account," he simply answers.
You snort again and roll your eyes at him, "Yeah, sure."
Chan smirks and picks up his phone, he opens Instagram to show the fake Instagram account he made and it only has one following, you.
"Do you believe me now?"
It's hard to stay calm when you find out that the guy who broke your heart two years ago has secretly been keeping up with you through your social media. You're happy but a part of you is still in denial.
"I mean... why not use your own Instagram?" you ask out of pure curiosity because it's not like you'd mistake this as a sign that he wants to get back with you. You're not that naive nor delusional.
"Then you would know that I regret breaking up with you," he casually answers like he didn't just reveal something profound.
You look at him to check if he's just messing with you and you would know if he's lying cause he's bad at it, but nope, he's telling the truth.
"And you would know that I've been struggling to get over you," he continues with glints filling his doe eyes.
There's an alarm going off in your chest, it's coming from the heart and it's telling you to be cautious, potential heartbreak lies ahead. You get reminded that you came here not to confront your feelings, you came here to get fucked, hopefully hard.
"And I guess you posted your boxing video for a purpose?" You ask with your eyebrow raised at him.
"Well..." he shrugs and slyly grins, "it worked, didn't it?"
As expected, this man has so many tricks up his sleeves. Better be careful as he puts all of his attention on you, his arm slowly makes its way around your shoulder and his hand is playing with your hair.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No comment," You smirk and take a small sip of your drink.
Chan lets out a laugh, the sonorous one and the kind that makes his eyes form two crescents. He takes a sip of his Boulevardier which is an upscale version of negroni.
"I've been wondering why you stayed single for so long," he says with an underlying tone, implying that he's actually asking you the reason why. Also confirmed his secret stalking behavior.
"It's not that long," you reply, crossing your legs together as you flash him a sly smile.
"A year, isn't it?" He asks.
You groan and roll your eyes at him, "You really are a stalker."
"You can tell me," he playfully elbows your side.
"No. It's a secret," you refuse to share.
"I shared my secret with you and it's only fair if you share yours with me."
"First of all, I didn't ask for your secret," you defend yourself while holding your drink close to your mouth.
He leans to your side, offering his ear at you as he says, "You can whisper it to me."
He means to know the answer anyway so you lean into his ear and cover the side of your mouth, then whisper, "All the guys I've met, they don't have a big cock like yours."
That's a way to get his attention and escalate the tension between the two of you. You pull away with a devilish smirk dancing on your face.
You glance down at his crotch and ask, "Is it still as big as I remember?"
"If you're lucky, you'll get to find out," he plays coy about it and you find it extremely attractive.
Noticing that you've drained your drink, Chan waves his hand to get the two of you another round of drinks. Obviously, you don't want it to end when things have just started to warm up.
He looks at you and then glances down, showing his hand snaking its way to your thigh.
"Have I told you that it's a nice dress?"
"I don't mind hearing it one more time," you respond with a cheeky smile.
He shoots you a big grin while he's playing with the hem of your dress, feeling the fabric between his fingers.
"It's a nice dress," he compliments, then leans in close so that you can feel his warm breath brush your cheek as he adds, "And I want to take it off of you tonight."
You place your hand on his hand that rests on your thigh and play with his bracelet, "if you're lucky, you'll get to do it," you poke fun at him.
You can audibly hear his laugh in your ear as he leans in closer his nose pokes your cheek, "We're even now."
The third drinks bring the tension higher as the two of you relax from every sip and the gap between your bodies gradually disappears.
Chan has his eyes on you all the time, it's overwhelming at times but you like the way he looks at you like an animal who has his eyes on its prey and you like seeing the confliction in his eyes on whether he should eat you whole or play with his food first.
There's so much chemistry and tension here, plus the alcohol, you're only waiting for the light to turn bright green, really.
He gently brushes your hair to the side and keeps it there so he can plant a kiss on the skin behind your ear, knowing that it's your sensitive part of body.
"You change your perfume?"
"Yes," you manage to remain calm despite the proximity and the way he constantly rubs your thigh with his knuckle.
He drags his lips to your ear and asks, "What is it called?"
You lick your lips and make him wait for your answer, "I believe it's called Good Girl Gone Bad."
He tilts his head to the side and looks at you right in the eyes, wide and dark with lust, "How bad?"
You grab the collar of his shirt and tug at it, "If you're lucky, you'll get to find out," you get back at him again.
As he bursts out laughing with his eyes closed, you follow your intrusive thought to cup his jaw with your hand and laugh along.
"That's two to one," you remind him.
He stops laughing only to fondly smile at you, "Remind me how I broke up with you."
"For a start, you acted like an absolute jerk that day," you half-jokingly say.
The truth is it wasn't the breakup that hurt you the most, it's the post-break-up and his total absence from your life, he didn't call or text, or even send a pity email after that day. It felt as if he didn't want you in his life anymore.
Fuck. How did you get here again? Forced to face your feelings. Time to shift the talk.
"It's getting late, don't you think?"
Chan immediately reaches for his phone on the table to check the time, "It's 10.51."
"Oh," you plainly respond and finish you drink.
"Can I have your new numbers?" He suddenly asks.
You put down your glass on the table and answer, "I still have the same phone numbers."
"Yeah but I lost my phone at the airport and had to get a new one, lost all of my contacts," he explains like he knew you thought about how he didn't call you earlier.
Chan hands you his phone so you can enter your phone numbers and hand it back to him once you've finished. He hits the call button instead of saving it first and your phone rings a second later.
"Come on. Pick it up!" He tells you.
You obey him, accepting his phone call even though he's sitting next to you, "Hello?"
"Hi, it's future Chris calling," he says with a mix of foolish and sexy grin, you don't know how but he does it so well.
Curious to see where this talk is going, you decide to play along with him, "If you are really from the future, can you tell me the lottery numbers for this week?"
"I... can't tell you that."
"I'm hanging up," you joke.
"But I can tell you something else."
"Not interested," you put away your phone from your ear.
He glares at you, forcing you to continue playing along with him, "Hear me first!"
"Okay, I'm listening," you say with a dramatic eye roll.
"Future Chris says you need to go to hotel room number 103 tonight."
"Uhm... why?"
"You have to go there if you want to get lucky," he says with his tongue slightly poking out on one corner of his mouth.
"Still not interested," you poke fun, pretending to hang up the phone again.
"You'll regret it," he teases.
"I doubt that," you say with your nose scrunched at him.
Chan gets a little annoyed now, you can tell by the way he has his tongue poking his cheek and the fed-up grin on his face.
"Don't you want to get lucky tonight and find out about..." he pauses as he reaches for the pendant of your necklace and turns it over in his fingers, "the thing you're curious of."
This is it then, your intention matched his intention and the light has turned bright green. You take his hand and put it down onto your lap, then you slide your hand into his palm, "Okay."
"Okay," He says, holding your hand in his then brings it close to his mouth to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.
-
As you're waiting for the elevator to arrive, Chan steadily places his hand on the arch of your back and lingers there until the elevator chimes open.
He lets you get in first and you choose to stand on the side, close to the panel full of numbers of the hotel floors and he reaches for it to push the number to his floor.
Should you consider yourself lucky that the elevator is empty? Should you be nervous because you're starting to feel like a prey being locked with its predator inside a small, enclosed space?
No words are being exchanged as the two of you locked in a gaze, but he speaks so much through his eyes, they're fiery, filled with so much want, so much need, and ultimately, desire.
After that much teasing, flirting, alcohol, chemistry, and tension, you've been wondering how the two of you managed to not kiss each other already.
It seems like he's about to make it happen as he comes closer to you, putting his hands on the handlebar and caging you in between. Slowly, he brings his hand close to your face and carefully puts away the strands of hair covering your face to the side, then tucks it behind your ear.
In this proximity, you can see how plush his lips are, how soft and full they are, and it's getting too hard to try to ignore. You look at him, telling him how much you want to kiss him through your eyes and deliberately blink to give him the unspoken permission to kiss you.
The heating moment gets interrupted by the sound of the elevator chimes open and a group of people gets in from the fourth floor.
"Excuse me," a man says as he reaches for the panel to press the number to his floor.
With his hand on your back again, Chan protectively guides you to take a step forward and stands behind you, he puts his arm around your waist with his hand resting on your abdomen.
There's a low chatter going on from the other corner of the elevator but the absence of silence doesn't make it less tense as Chan buries his nose in your hair, you can feel every breath he inhales on the nape of your neck. It feels hot and cold at the same time, making you tingling inside.
He then presses his mouth to your ear and softly whispers, "You're still using the same shampoo, mmh?" His lips graze your ear as he speaks.
Chan puts his other arm on you and quietly, pulls you closer until your back meets his chest, that way you can feel him behind you and his body heat that slowly melts you from the inside.
Quietly, he slides his hand down to the curve of your ass cheek and then gently squeezes the flesh.
"My God, this body..." he whispers with his breath tickles your body, "Makes me want to ruin you so much."
Is it wrong that you don't even want to hide it anymore? You want everyone in the elevator to hear what he just said to you and for a split second, you want Chan to fuck you right there and let everyone watches.
However, Chan suddenly lets go of you and you pout at the sudden loss of contact. Then you notice that the little screen above the panel shows that the elevator is about to stop on the 10th floor.
When it chimes open, you make your way out with Chan trails behind you. None of you look back but keep walking ahead with his hand resting on the arch of your back again, leading you to where his room is. His hand goes lower and lower the further you walk through the hotel corridor.
"This way," he says, guiding your body to take the left corridor.
Without warning, he grabs you by the waist and roughly pulls you with him until he hits his back against the wall, then crashes his mouth on you.
This is not your shared first kiss but this is somehow better than that. The feeling of your lips finally reunited in a rapturous kiss especially when you've been craving it oh, there's nothing like it!
Chan kisses you so hard, so deep, so passionately that you have a hard time returning it to him and breathing becomes a second priority to you.
"I've been wanting to do that all night," he mutters when he lets go of the kiss.
Still gasping for air, you nod and say, "Me too."
To your surprise, he turns you over and has you pinned against the wall this time, he pushes his body against yours as he seeks to be as close to you as possible until there's no inch of gap left between your bodies.
When he deems that you need to breathe, he lets go of your lips only to kiss you on your neck and you tip your head to the side to give him the free access. You let out a low moan as his teeth faintly scrape the skin.
His hands run amok, feeling you all over and touching you through your clothes, eventually his hand cups your breast in his. He kisses your lips again only to distract you from his hand trying to pull down the front of your dress and after a few tries, he manages to send your breast spilling which he wastes no time to take it in his mouth.
"Oh..." The moan just slipped out of your mouth and you hurriedly press your lips together to shut yourself up, aware that you're in a hotel corridor and the hotel guests might hear it, oh and also, someone may walk in on you making out in the hotel corridor.
He leaves your breast wet with his saliva when he lets go and goes straight to kiss you again, putting his weight against you and hoisting your leg around him.
It's getting hard to stay quiet as he starts to dry hump you, you can feel the friction of his clothed erection on you, big and bulging, highly arousing.
Hearing footsteps coming, he hurriedly fixes your dress and takes your hand, this time, leading you right to his hotel room. He swiftly unlocks the door with his keycard and pushes the door inward.
"Come in," he softly mutters, keeping the door open to let you in.
Once you're both inside, the obscenity continues. Nothing is stopping you from coming at each other and ripping each other's clothes. Your dress is the first to go then his shirts, they're lying on the carpeted floor now.
As you lips continuously latch with his, Chan swiftly unbuckles his belt and zips open his fly, he pulls his erection out of its confine.
Without breaking the kiss, he takes your hand and puts it around his hardening member. You gasp at how hot it feels in your hand, how hard it is that you can feel the veins coiling around his length.
He pulls away and looks down to see your hand holding his cock, "Is it as big as you remember?"
You suck air through your teeth and then say, "I'm not sure."
You start to slowly pump his length in your hand and look up at him, "but there's a way I can know for sure."
His eyebrow raised in question, "You do?"
"Uh-huh," you answer, leaning in to kiss him.
From his lips, you begin a trail of kisses to his neck and his chest next, then down to his sculpted abs until your knees hit the carpeted floor.
Something about kneeling in front of him and he's looking down on you with a mix of excitement and anticipation in his eyes arousing you in a whole new way.
In return, you look back at him, innocently blinking your eyes at him all the while your hand keeps stroking his cock in front of you.
"Can I?" You ask him with your thumb softly rubbing the tip of his cock.
He puts his hands in your hair, brushing your hair and gathering them in the back of your head, making a makeshift ponytail with his hand, "Yes."
Without looking away from him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, then slowly, you take him in your mouth. You take him little by little and give yourself time to adjust yourself to his size which you think is somewhat bigger than you remember.
Wanting to impress him, you push yourself to take more of him but you're too haste and his cock hits the back of your throat so fast, triggering your gag reflex. You immediately pull away before you embarrass yourself more and look away as you let out a cough.
"Still too big for me," You say with a shy chuckle.
Chan places his hand on your cheek and tenderly caresses it, "Too big for you, mmh?"
You nod with your puppy eyes at him.
"But you're taking it so well," he coos, now wiping your chin with his thumb.
You wrap your hand around his cock again and slowly pump it, "Yeah?"
"Yes," he mutters with a soft smile.
The truth is you're not a big fan of giving blow jobs and you're not very confident in your skill, but he remains sweet and patient with you and you believe it's because he knows.
Chan makes you feel safe and comfortable enough to make you want to do it again.
"Let me just..." you don't finish your sentence but do it all over again.
You remind yourself to take it slow, regulate your breathing, and keep calm, it's even better if you can try to enjoy doing it.
To compensate for the rest that you can't take in your mouth, you use your hand and alternate between sucking and licking.
"See? You're taking me so well," he softly mutters, delicately tucking your hair behind your ear.
It doesn't take long for you to find your rhythm and slowly enjoying yourself giving him head, you're even humming in pleasure with your mouth full of him.
Seeing his reactions and hearing the lewd noises coming out of your mouth, encourages you to keep going despite your jaws getting tired and your knees are hurting from kneeling too long.
In between his low moans, he manages to mutter sweet nothings to you.
"Oh, that pretty mouth!"
"You're just too good."
"Oh... Too good at this!"
After a few minutes though, you sense that you needed a break so you slowly pull out and replace your mouth with your hand.
"You like that?"
"Very much," he answers without a beat.
He offers his hand to help you get up from the floor and pulls you close, hoisting your body against him knowing that you're probably tired from kneeling too long.
"You're getting too good, it's dangerous," he whispers to you with both hands cupping your ass cheeks.
You giggle and let him have your lips in him again, you're opening your mouth for him so he can kiss you deeper while he hoists you higher until your feet are lifted off the floor.
Chan carries you to the bed and gently lays you down on the bed, he removes his jeans first before joining you, lying next to you on the bed.
He brushes your hair away from your face and presses a kiss on your lips, "So, is it as big as you remember?"
You tangle your hand in his soft curls, "Jury's still out," you answer with a sly smile.
Chan glares at you as a grin slowly blossoms on his face, he offers his arm as your pillow and then pulls you closer to him, that way, he can comfortably plant his lips on yours again.
As he keeps you busy with his kisses, his hand is making its way down south and not stopping until it lands on your clothed cunt. He smirks against your lips the second he slips his fingers under, meeting your wetness.
"That wet for me, mmh?" He murmurs.
You coyly shrug and shoot him a smirk just to provoke him.
"Well, I'm honored," he says with his fingers tracing your folds and running it up and down your slit.
When he starts playing with your clit, you know you no long can keep your cool anymore. The cold that comes from the metal of his chain bracelet adds a different sensation to the hot and wetness of your cunt.
"Goodness..." you breathlessly gasp as he inserts his finger into you.
"I know you can take one more," he mutters with his mouth pressed to your ear, then proceeds to add another digit.
His two long fingers are inside you now, pumping them in and out of you, and curls them to find that spot that makes you—
"Chris! Oh, fuck!" You curse and grip his shoulder hard enough your nails dug into the skin.
He's enjoying it from the way his head hovers above you and peacefully observing your face, wanting to see all of your reactions to his delightful assault.
He has his mouth sucking on your breast now and the other is being fondled by his other hand, the other hand is busy making a mess out of you.
You're squirming on the bed with your waist upheld in the air and shamelessly arching your back at him, seeking more of him inside you.
Chan knows when to stop, he teases you enough to prepare you for what comes next. He slows down his hand motions and slowly pulls them out. He doesn't let go yet but keeps his hand inside your underwear, playing with your clit.
A moment later, he draws his hand out of your underwear and rubs his fingers coated with your arousal on his lips, "Taste yourself on me," he says.
Seeing his lips wet with your essence is rather arousing and you don't hesitate at all to kiss him, tasting yourself on him. The kiss feels exceptionally kinky and you thought you couldn't be more aroused than this.
Without letting go of the kiss, he hovers above you and props his elbows against the mattress, "Are you still on the pills?"
You swallow air before answering, "Yeah."
He places a sweet peck on your lips then looks at you, "Is it okay if we do it without protection?"
Maybe deep down you know you can trust him and it wouldn't be the first time you're doing it with him without a layer of protection so you find it easy to agree to it and nod.
"Okay," you say, also providing him a verbal consent.
He smiles at you and lowers his mouth on you again, he continues the kisses down your front. His hands tugging at the elastic band of your underwear and pulling it down as he continues the kisses down to your legs.
The bed quakes as Chan gets off the bed and he's just standing there, looking at you and your naked body for his eyes to lust on. You catch him inhaling and exhaling air like he's overwhelmed by what he's seeing.
"You're so beautiful," he mutters with a delightful sigh.
It would be the only normal response to get flustered under his lustful eyes, you look away from him and say, "Just get in here, Chris!"
He surprises you by jumping onto the bed, making the bed quakes once more and he immediately puts his lips on yours again.
"Turn over for me," he softly whispers to you ear.
Without saying a word, you obey him, turning over on the bed and getting on your fours, kneeling with your hands propped against the mattress in front of you.
Chan positions himself behind you and then with so much care, he puts all of your hair away onto one shoulder so he can place kisses on your back. His hands freely roam around your body.
In your opinion, Chan has the most attractive pair of hands, it's warm and firm with veins snaking on the back of his hand, and of course, long fingers that know how to find your most sensitive spot. Now, they're on you, going all over you and feeling you all over.
"I almost forgot how soft you are," he murmurs.
He then brings his hands to your chest to play with your mounds, he hums in pleasure as he sees your breasts mold perfectly in his hands.
"Like they were made just for me," he sighs.
It's like his attractiveness and his big cock aren't enough, Chan has to have a smart mouth too, a mouth that knows what to say and how to say it.
Then again, you're just a girl and you're prone to sugary sweet words like that. You look over your shoulder and smile at him, not expecting that he's going to capture your lips in a kiss.
He slides one hand down to your throbbing cunt again, making sure it's wet enough for him to penetrate. He gently pushes you to the front so he can aim his cock at your entrance and then slowly, he guides you to take him in.
"Oh... ah..." you moan, crumpling the sheet underneath you.
And you almost forget how big he is until he's inside you and you get so high that you blank out, you're there on all fours and merely just a vessel.
Not giving you another minute to adjust, Chan moves back and pulls his cock out only to push it deeper inside you. He then wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly while you're flailing against him like a rag doll.
"You feel so good," he whispers, his breath is hot and heavy in your ear, "So fucking tight around me."
He brings his hand down to rub your clit, adding gentle pressure as he's circling on it.
"I'm going to move, okay?" He says to you with a slobbering kiss on your shoulder.
Unable to form a coherent answer, you repeatedly nod in answer.
The sploshing sound of his fingers incessantly rubbing your clit intensify along with the pace of his thrusting. Chan either has his lips on your lips or plants them on your shoulder, either way, he does it to muffle his groans.
This is what happens when his hand and his cock joint forces, you find yourself on the brink of orgasm when all you've been doing is filling the room with your high-pitched moans.
"Oh, I'm cumming," you whine, holding onto the sheet as waves of pleasure surging all over you.
Chan slows down but does not stop thrusting into you, he kisses your neck and shoulder as you relish your orgasm. He keeps you close with his slung across your chest.
"Chris?" You breathlessly call his name.
"Yes, baby?" He answers your call and you guess the pet name unintentionally slipped out of his mouth.
Not going to lie, it gets you fluttering to hear him call you baby. You curve your arm around his neck and bring his head close to kiss him.
After a while, you start to doubt that the fluttering feeling came from Chan calling you with a pet name. You think it's because you're getting your second orgasm.
"What should I do, Chris?" You whine against his mouth
He breaks the kiss and looks at you with a concerned look, "Huh?" Chan confusingly asks.
"I'm about to cum again," you shamelessly admit.
Chan lets out a low chuckle and presses a kiss on your lips, "Then let's cum together, yeah?" he simply resolves.
He draws you close to him until your back hits his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you to hold you steady as he adds more speed to his thrust.
"Chris, oh..." you moan while holding onto his forearm.
His hands slithering around, one hand squeezing on your breast and the other wrapped around your neck. His mouth nests in the crook of your neck, grunting in pleasure and at times, sucking on your skin to muffle his noises.
"Oh, you keep clenching, baby," he mutters, followed by a broken moan.
That is probably because his cock is deep inside you, it's engorging and pulsating, filling you whole and continuously rubbing against your velvety walls, making the knot in your stomach tighten with each passing second.
Getting weak on the knees, you collapse onto the bed and Chan hurriedly holds you by the waist as he maintains the pace.
"I'm close, I'm close," you tell him repeatedly with one side of your face pressed against the bed.
Chan groans as he pushes his cock as shallowly as possible inside you, "Almost there," he says through his gritted teeth.
The previous orgasm makes you more sensitive than before and you can't hold yourself back anymore so you slowly let go and let the pleasure take over you once more.
Meanwhile, Chan hovers behind you and takes your hands, he holds them by the wrists then pin them against the bed as he restlessly thrusts into you to chase his high.
"Want me to cum inside you?" He asks, still thoughtful as you remember
"Uh-huh, yeah," you manage to answer even with your brain close to short-circuit.
Getting the permission is all he needed to get to his release. Then moment he finally come undone, he lets out a hoarse yet the most beautiful moan you ever heard, then lets himself lay on top of you.
A moment passes in contented silence and Chan presses a long kiss on the nape of your neck, then softly asks, "Are you okay?"
Not getting an answer, he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face to check it himself, "Did I go too rough on you?" He asks again with a slight concern.
You allow yourself to take a few more seconds to gain your composure and instead of answering, you foolishly grin at him and say, "That was so fucking good."
In response, Chan brightly smiles then pecks your lips, "No, but seriously, are you okay?"
You nod at him, "I'm okay."
After hearing your confirmation, he lets out a sigh of relief and then kisses you again, longer than the previous one.
"Sweet break?"
You don't expect him to say that after a long time, you smile and nod, "Sweet break."
-
Sweet break is something you used to say to each other when you need to take a break from something by eating something sweet. Like now, for instance, you and him taking a break from sex to order something sweet from the room service.
"Bad news is the kitchen is closed" Chan announces the second you come out of the bathroom.
It would be bothersome to put on your dress so you put on Chan's shirt instead, buttoning it as you join him on the sofa, "And the good news?"
He opens the food cover to show you what he got from the room service, "They're still serving desserts," he says with a grin.
The two of you huddle together around the plates of desserts and eating them on the sofa, filling the room with the sounds of your chewing and the dessert spoon scraping the plate.
It's fascinating to watch Chan casually eat his chocolate cake like he didn't just fuck the brains out of you a while ago. You let out a low chuckle and get back to your crepes.
"What's so funny?" He asks, catching you quietly chuckling to yourself.
"Nothing," you answer with a shrug.
He glares at you and decides to invade your plate with his fork, stabbing at the sliced banana and then shoving it into his mouth.
"Hey, eat your own dessert," you scold him but let him collect more bananas from your plate.
"But you don't like bananas," he says in between his chews.
"I don't like bananas but that doesn't mean I can't eat them," you say, but proceed to put the bananas to the side of the plate.
"I'm eating it for you so you only eat what you like," he says with a proud grin.
It's endearing that he still remembers little things like this. The sweet break, your dislike toward a certain and even how many of his fingers you like to have inside you. You can't help but wonder if he remembers other things too. His feelings for you, perhaps?
"Want to order another one?"
The two of you shared and finished the last plate together, even though you feel like you can have another plate, you refuse the offer.
He puts the plates away to the side of the room and returns to the sofa, lifting your legs before he sits next to you and then puts your legs on his lap.
"What's that café with the salted caramel cookies?" He suddenly asks.
"The one with butternut latte?" You ask back to check.
He gently puts his hand on your shoulder and plays with your hair, "Is it still open?"
Damn. He even still remembers that one café you regularly visited when the two of you were still dating.
"Yes," you answer with a smile.
"Man. Those are the best cookies!" he sighs with his fingertips lightly rubbing your thigh.
"I mean, we can go there tomorrow if you want," you casually say or you hope it sounds casual, it's a friendly offer.
He stops playing with your hand and cups your jaw, "I would love to," he says.
From the way his smile slowly dims, you sense a 'but' coming. Oh no, you sense a regret coming. You shouldn't have offered it in the first place.
"But I have to leave tomorrow," he says.
"Oh?" You try to remain unbothered and keep your facial expression in check, "Tomorrow, huh?"
"Yeah. I have to take care of a few things back home," he explains.
By back home, he means Australia and he'll fly out tomorrow, and probably for good. You hate that you get sad like it would be the first he's done it to you.
He holds you by the chin and slowly brings your head close to place a chaste kiss on your lips, it's so tender that you feel a tug at your chest.
"Thank you for coming to see me," he sincerely says with his eyes wide and shining for you.
This is where you start losing the objective of why you're here, you came here to solely get fucked, not expecting anything but his cock inside you.
Time to put some sense into your head and laugh it off, "Oh, my God, Chris!" You gasp out loud.
His forehead wrinkles in question, "What?"
"Yes, we can fuck again, no need to try so hard," you say with a sassy eye roll.
Learning that he's being pranked, he squints his eyes at you with his tongue pokes his cheek. While clutching his chest, he says, "Gosh, I thought—"
Before he can finish his sentence, you shut him up with a kiss because you don't want to keep talking about your feelings or get reminded of how things were when you were still together. You kiss him because you want to forget.
"You thought what?" You ask as you sit on his lap.
He licks his lips and shakes his head, "Nothing."
He's more than glad to have you sitting on his lap as it allows him to hold you close. His hands trail the sides of your body until they eventually land on your ass and then eagerly fondle them in his hands. Catching you off guard, he lands a slap on your ass cheek.
"Chris!" You shriek, abruptly stop kissing him, "That stings!"
"Can't help it," he innocently says while laughing and then pulls you close to kiss you again before you scold him more.
As a safety measure, you take his hands from your ass and fold them together on his chest but he takes it to his advantage, he finds another playground for his lewd hands.
Doesn't want to waste time unbuttoning it, he slips his hand under your shirt to fondle your breast, circling his fingers around your nipple before pinching at it.
He then lifts your shirt, exposing your breasts to the cool night air, and wastes no time to bury his head in between your mounds. He then pulls the shirt down and hides himself in it, acting like a toddler by purposely placing ticklish kisses on you to make you laugh
"Stop playing," you scold him with your hand tangled in his curls, "Let's go to bed, mmh?"
Chan pops his head out through the opening of the shirt and looks at you, "Kiss me first," he demands.
How can you say no when he looks at you with fondness in his eyes and a smile on his face? You fulfill his wish and place a long, lingering kiss on his lips.
"Can we go now?" You say the second you pull away from the kiss.
"Okay," he obliges.
He gets out of your shirt first and you get off his lap next, then starts walking toward the bedroom when Chan suddenly comes from behind you and hoists you up, looking unbothered carrying you on his shoulder.
"To the bed!" He announces, then slaps the back of your thigh.
"Chris!" You scold again but you can't do anything about it as you hang upside-down on his back.
The bed is already a mess and it seems like it's going to get even messier with the way Chan constantly has you pinned under him. He kisses your lips, softly yet hungrily like devouring an ice cream.
Aware that he has taken his turn, Chan doesn't complain when you flip him over and take it over from him. You're straddling him, rubbing his cock between your slit while he's unbuttoning your shirt open.
You find yourself wet for him again in no time and his cock is as hard as you need it to be, maybe this is why sex with him feels exceptional, the two of you are always horny for each other.
You let out a low, long moan the whole time you lower yourself on him and a seductive chuckle slips out of your mouth the second he's fully buried inside you.
When you look down at him, you find him staring at you with his mouth agape. You slyly smile and place both of your hands on his glorious pecs, "Have you always been this big?"
Chan licks his lips and rests his hands on your thighs, "And have you always been this tight?" He asks back instead of answering.
Being on top gives you the freedom to set a pace you prefer and switch positions as you like, more importantly, you can fully enjoy every bit of it. But it's working because Chan is such a great partner, he lets you have full control and lets you take your time.
If not using his hands to touch you all over, he has his hands folded under his head and quietly enjoying watching you fucking him.
"If you keep clenching around me like that, I might cum too fast," he tells you.
"I'm okay with that," you calmly respond.
To tease him more, you purposely keep clenching around him and rolling your hips in circular motions. Somehow you stop focusing on getting your high and start thinking about how to please him more.
"Oh," he loudly groans and his hand grips at your waist, "You're bad!"
You giggle in response while continuing to roll your hips back and forth in painstakingly slow motion.
"Oh, you're really, really bad," he says with ragged breath.
The sex may not be as hard or as intense as the previous one but it's just as good, even better. Maybe it's the unwavering eye contact, maybe it's the way he hisses every time you tease him, or the way he trusts you to make him feel good.
Whatever it is, you feel like sharing an intimate moment with him and you can't lie, it feels special.
"Are you close?" You ask because you're very close to your climax.
"I've been waiting for you to ask me that," he hastily answers, still able to joke in a heating moment like this.
You take him along with you to the edge and not stopping until the two of you come to your release, you keep moving at a sloppy pace to ride out the high.
Chan pulls you close, forcing you to lower yourself onto his body and accidentally sending his cock to slip out. You don't mind it at first but you can feel his hot cum dripping out of you and onto his abdomen.
You break the kiss and mutter in panic, "It's dripping."
"I'll put it back in," he simply responds, reaching down for his cock and slowly pushes it back into you.
Now that it's resolved, he puts his arms around you again and pulls you even closer until your bodies mold into one another, then kisses you more.
Without looking and breaking the kiss, he pulls the duvet and covers both of your bodies with it, ready to end the night with your bodies still connected.
"Have I told you this?" He suddenly asks.
"What?"
He looks at you with his brown eyes that looks like a nice cup of cocoa, comforting and warm.
"I miss you," he ever softly says.
There he goes again, making you debate whether you came here for the sex or to try to rekindle old sparks with him. But in all honesty, it feels good to know that the yearning goes both ways.
For once, you let your heart answer it for you.
"I miss you too, Chris," you mutter back with a smile.
And now you start debating if seeing him tonight is indeed a bad idea.
-
There's a wet, squelching sound when you first come to your senses the next morning, you feel like sleeping for another hour or two but you also feel the urge to check what that noise is all about.
You force open your eyes and find out right away the source of that wet, squelching sound, it's coming from Chan and he has his mouth latched to your breast.
"Morning, Chris," you croak as you brush your hair away from your face.
He lets go of your breast with a loud pop and looks at you, "Did I wake you?"
"Not really," you answer, putting your hand in his fluffy bedhead.
"I'm sorry," he says but not looking like it.
"Are you? Sorry?" You jokingly say and lay back on your pillow.
He slyly grins and shifts his focus back to playing with your mounds. He holds your breast up and uses his slick tongue to tease your nipple, alternating between licking and sucking.
It's normal to feel horny in the morning and, you find yourself already wet under there, you guess Chan has been helping himself while you were still sleeping.
Chan's head hangs above your chest and you can see how much he's enjoying your breasts, playing with them like a toddler, he even makes noises as he fills his mouth with your ample flesh.
"Aren't you leaving today? Shouldn't we get up and shower?" You mutter, softly scratching his scalp as you talk.
He sucks at your breast so hard and pulls it before letting it go, grinning as he is satisfied with what he just did.
"My flight is in the afternoon," he says.
"And I'd better go so you can pack—"
"But I already ordered breakfast," he whines like a fussy child.
"Well, we can shower first."
"They'll send breakfast at 8," he shares with a wild grin.
You turn your head to check the time on the clock hanging on the wall, "But it's hardly 7."
"Exactly!" He exclaims.
"Exactly what?" You ask in genuine confusion.
He buries his head in your neck and whispers, "We have an hour before breakfast."
Despite catching on to his intention, you decide to act dumb, "And?"
"And..." he inhales your scent before hovering above you, "I'll have my breakfast first."
He winks at you then goes under the duvet, and settles himself between your legs to have his so-called breakfast and it only makes sense that it progresses to intercourse.
Morning sex offers different things, it's the quiet, the peace, the slivers of morning sun shining through the cracks of the curtains, doing it with a refreshed mind and body, it's also the best way to start the day.
It's even better when you get to be a pillow princess, you just lay back and let Chan do all the handwork. He has your legs locked around his waist as he thrusts into you at a slow yet steady pace and in every thrust, he makes you feel every inch of his length rubbing against your walls.
"This is just great," he says with his face pressed to the side of your head.
"Mmh, what?" You respond as best as you can.
"I don't have to do cardio today," he says with a low chuckle.
This is your favorite kind of sex, do it by not taking it too seriously. Because in your opinion, other than it should be comfortable for the individuals involved, sex should be fun.
You kiss his open mouth and drag your lips down to his neck, then plant your mouth on his skin, sucking at it hard enough to form a hickey on it.
"What's that about?" He's rather dumbfounded instead of annoyed.
"Just trying to make it fair," you coyly say as you point to the blossoming mark he made on your breast.
"Yeah, okay," he says in defeat.
As much as you don't want the sex to end, it eventually ends but in a rather explosive, euphoric way. You feel like you've just been given another chance at life after that last orgasm.
"Who needs coffee, huh?" You sigh as you blankly stare at the ceiling.
It's a rhetorical question but Chan decides to respond to it anyway, "Not me, apparently."
Then you remember that he indeed doesn't drink nor need coffee to function, "Not you, apparently," you correct your earlier remark.
Chan carefully lowers himself on top of you and hastily kisses you, both of your teeth almost colliding.
"Thought I was still dreaming when I woke up next to you," he says, coming with another sentimental remark that evokes something deep within you.
You decide to push it further down and keep it there by saying, "Ugh. It's too early for that," you groan.
Chan weakly chuckles with his head nestled in your neck and just like the universe knows you need the distraction, the knocking comes on the door and it must be the breakfast.
You gently pat his head and say, "Now, go get my coffee!"
The morning continues with a quiet breakfast, it's obvious the reason why, the two of you burnt so many calories last night and need a reload.
Then there's the shower and you strongly refuse to share with him or else, it'll take much time. But Chan has an even stronger will and joins you anyway.
This is another reason why sex with him feels exceptional, the two of you are the same insatiable creatures.
The two of you dressed in silence and at times, catch him watching you, instead of feeling shy, you give him a proper show, bending down and wriggling your ass as you put your underwear on.
Chan enjoys every bit of it, he grins and bites his lips, tempted to come up at you, and goes at it again, but sadly, time is running out.
It's here, this is where it's going to end and you never know when you'll see him again, and that's even if you're still able to. You can only hope that he doesn't see how much you want him to stay.
"This is it then," you say, standing right in front of him in the foyer.
He takes your hand, loosely lacing his fingers with yours, "Can I still text you?"
"Sure," you answer.
"How about phone calls?"
"Booty calls only," you jokingly say.
He smiles and takes a step closer to you, you can almost see every moment the two of you shared last night flashes in his eyes, and it's achingly beautiful.
"Can I kiss you before you leave?"
You plan to make the goodbye as brief and as painless as possible but you don't want to risk losing the opportunity to make it a not-so-sad ending. But if you have to be honest, you simply want to kiss him.
"Okay," you agree with a nod.
You put your arms around his shoulders and let your body molds into him as he holds you close, you tilt your head up and close your eyes.
The moment your lips make contact, your heart bursts open and there's no way of stopping your feelings flow out of it so you let them be. You let him feel your pain, your yearning, and ultimately, your feelings for him that you try so hard to conceal, and then slowly, you pull away from the kiss before they fight their way out of your heart.
It's possible that Chan feels it too, that the kiss feels intimate, the kiss feels emotional, and a little close to the heart. He pulls you into a hug that lasts for a long time as if he tries to convey some unspoken messages too.
"No need to send me off," you tell him, not wanting to make it sadder than it already is.
Chan walks you to the door with his hand on the small of your back and then keeps it open for the final goodbye. You stand facing him and say, "Goodb—"
He puts his finger on your lips to stop you from finishing your sentence, "I'll see you when I see you."
That sounds like he indirectly promises you that one day, he'll come and see you again, and surprisingly, it only makes you uneasy.
You put on a smile and try another way to say goodbye, "Have a safe flight, Chris."
As you get into the back of the taxi, you get these familiar feelings and unfortunately, they're not the good kind. You feel like you went through the same thing before, you feel angry, you feel sad, and lost, and you feel this tightness in your chest that makes it hard to breathe. Then it hits you that it feels exactly like that day he broke up with you, this is the feeling of heartbreak.
In the end, you got your physical needs at the price of having to face your feelings and it all comes down to one conclusion: seeing him was a bad idea.
-
ONE MONTH LATER
It's like you're trapped in an endless loop, it's the weekend and you're lying on your bed, horny and bored.
Your phone is blaring with notifications and messages, you check and skim through them, they're from your friends or some other miscellaneous, you couldn't care less.
In other words, they're not the notifications you've been anticipating.
Chan has been diligently contacting you, sometimes he texted and when he's not, he calls you late at night because apparently, he's always busy during the day. The point is he always contact you by any means of communication.
However, for these past few days, it's been total radio silence. He's not even looking at the pictures you specifically posted to thirst-trap him. If only he knows how much time and energy you've spent just to get a single flattering shot of yourself. Ugh!
As you're about to spiral down, your phone dings and you consider ignoring it to spare you from getting disappointed all over again.
After a moment though, you cave in. You unlock your phone and get greeted by the very notification you've been dying to get.
What you doin'?
Busy running around in my head? He wrote a corny message and added a crying laughing emoji.
A week of no contact and that's the first thing he said? You scoff in disbelief and just stare at the messages, you've learned to make him wait for your reply and use the time to think of witty, flirty answers to his messages.
Am I running with clothes on or naked? You playfully ask back, giggling as you type it.
I think you know the answer. He wrote back with a winking emoji.
Let's hope I don't catch a cold then. You jokingly write in response.
You should stop cause it does things to me.
One minute he's corny, one minute he's cute, and the rest of the time? Hot, confident, and flirty, and you eat those shit up.
Things like what? You reply.
Like this. He wrote along with a picture.
Intrigued, you hurriedly click open the attachment and it's a picture he took of him in the mirror, wearing nothing but his white underwear. Your eyes feast on his glorious Greek God body, his sculpted abs and broad shoulders, and eventually your eyes flick down to the bulge inside his underwear.
In all honestly, it's the first thing that catches your eye because it's so fucking big and the underwear does nothing but enhance the shape and the size.
All of a sudden, you feel thirsty, literally and figuratively, and Chan knows how to make you keep swallowing air by sending you another picture.
The picture is of the same setting but in a rather different position, he's sitting on a chair, slightly slumped with his legs spread wide open and his hand holding his bulge.
Wish it was your hand.
Did he take a class on how to take good thirst traps and nudes? Because damn! Two pictures are enough to make you feel like an animal in heat.
Can I have it in my mouth instead?
Want to have you in my mouth.
Being straightforward mixed with the drooling emoji always works but what really does it is the one magic word: Please?
A minute later, there's no reply from him but your phone rings, he's calling you and you scramble to sit on the bed. You take a deep breath first before hitting the accept call button.
"Hello?"
"Gosh, I want you so much," He suddenly says, no greetings or small talk first. He goes straight to what he wants and you kind of dig that.
You giggle into the phone and playfully ask, "How much?"
"So fucking much," he emphasizes every word and lets out a heavy sigh after.
"Come and maybe I'll give it to you," you seductively say while playing with the lint on your denim shorts, "Maybe."
He chuckles and then jokingly says, "I'm on my way."
"Don't make me wait long," you play along with him but secretly wish that it's true.
You hear rustles from his end of the phone call and think he's probably calling you while lying on his bed but then, you hear the sound of bustling streets and car horns and—
"You're not really on the way, right?" You nervously ask, twisting the loose thread around your index finger.
"I told you, I'm coming," he coyly says.
Your heart skips a beat but he could be anywhere, he could be driving to work or you know, in a taxi in... Australia. Right?
"Chris..." you meekly call him.
"Yes?"
"Are you in the city?" You ask to confirm his location.
"Suprise!" He exclaims followed by a series of giggles.
Yes, you secretly wish that he was coming, but not now but not now and maybe, not ever because the last time you saw each other, things didn't end well for you.
So seeing him tonight is a bad idea, right?
"Why didn't you—" You don't know how to word it without sounding like you're not grateful for his surprise.
"I want to see you," he says, cutting through your silence, "Do you want to see me too?"
What should you do? You don't want him to come but at the same time, you want him to come. Oh, God, this is so confusing!
You want to lie so badly but your heart won't let you, "I want to see you," you openly admit.
"I'm coming so wait for me, yeah?" He softly mutters.
"Okay," you weakly reply.
"I'll see you in a bit," he says with a smile that you can hear through the phone.
"See you."
The second you hang up the call, you start pacing back and forth in your room. He'll be here anytime soon and it'll be just like that night all over again.
You almost jump when the knock comes on the door and you slowly walk to the door, just standing there with your hand on the knob, debating if you should ignore him and pretend you're not home.
The knocks come again and reflexively, you turn the knob and pull the door open.
There he is in a white shirt and blue jeans, the simplest way of dressing yet somehow, it looks incredibly stunning on him.
"Hi," he says with a sweet grin on his face.
His hair is slightly tousled, he smells incredible and those dimples have the power to make you soften around him almost immediately, they're your kryptonite.
"Hi," you say back, lingering by the doorway.
"Brought you wine," he says, showing the bottle of red wine in his hand.
You tilt your head to the side and fight the urge to jump at him and climb him like a tree.
"That's so nice of you," you say with a smile.
"Can I come in?" He asks, gesturing his head toward the inside of your apartment.
But it's a bad idea, right?
However, you find yourself nodding and you step aside, "You may come in."
Chan steps inside and you close the door behind you after. The second you turn around, he pushes you to the wall and crashes his lips against yours.
And you know what? Fuck it! It's fine.
-
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Clownfall: the Election Cometh
It's a long one, lads. Buckle up, get comfy, but the circus is in town for its final run. Ambient music as you read can be found here or here, take your pick. Get popcorn. Get snacks and water and a blanket.
Are you sitting comfortably?
Wednesday 22nd May
7.12am
Household favourite and queen of our hearts Pippa Crerar of the Guardian (her who did the investigative journalism that revealed PartyGate to the world) reports that UK inflation fell to a mere, paltry 2.3% in April. The lowest level in three years! Huzzah! But … still smaller than the decline that was expected.
Nonetheless, Rishi Sunak and Jeremy Cunt whoops I'm so sorry I meant Cunt haha whoops said it again make a big fuss about how brilliant this news is, and how it shows that they are Good At Maffs after all that trouble with Liz Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng, who defined themselves as being Good At Maffs and then obliterated the economy in a single day. Remember that! Good times. But hey, look, THIS PM/Grand Vizier combo are great at this! Inflation has fallen! Stop looking at the predicted rate! A fall is still a fall!
Crerar wonders whether people will actually feel better off, though – prices and mortgage rates are still high, after all. Food for thought.
10.04am
Jeremy Hunt is asked on the Today programme whether Sunak will call a general election.
Now, the logic here is that the government is likely to do better in an election if the economy’s improving; which, SunakCunt are now shrieking from the rooftops. So, is now the time? It's a win, and they've had so few of those, but historically people really do like to fall for the right wing = better economy myth...
BUT – the Tories are doing so very badly in the polls. Journalists favour the idea of an autumn election. Tories do better when the weather’s bad, because fewer people go out and vote.
“Well that’s a matter for the prime minister, it’s not a matter for me,” says Cunt.
... Well. Not ruling it out, then? Diddorol.
10.30am
It's Wednesday, aka the date that Tory cabinet ministers have their weekly meeting. They are duly sent the agenda.
There is no mention at all of an election announcement, nor any plan for an election.
Fair enough! 'Twas an idle thought. Plus, it would actually be bad timing from a logistical perspective - David Cameron, Foreign Secretary and Bae of Pigs, is currently flying out to Albania for an important international meeting, and Jeremy Cunt is on TV all day today - ITV next.
12.18pm
Sunak is asked at Prime Minister’s Questions whether he’ll call a general election. He doesn’t rule it out.
12.56pm
Fun tweet alert!
2.31pm
Pippa Crerar asked Sunak’s press secretary whether he was calling an election. She refused to comment.
Surely it’s a terrible time to call an election! Everyone hates them! But suddenly …
A Cabinet meeting is scheduled for 4.15pm. David Hameron suddenly u-turns in Albania and comes straight back home, his meeting un-met. Jeremy Cunt cancels his ITV appearance. The afternoon meeting is cancelled. Number 10 stops responding to journalists. Manifesto work has stepped up. Sunak’s chief-of-staff is spotted wearing a suit and tie WHICH IS UNUSUAL. Senior ministers have spent the last few days doubling down on dividing lines. And Tory bosses had a meeting this week to discuss how much money they could spend before a summer election.
The UK press sense blood in the water.
3pm
Okay.
There’s something you need to understand:
People suspect Rishi Sunak doesn’t actually want to live in the UK. He’d prefer to be in California. He’s here because he’s an MP.
You need to know this to understand this truly historic incident.
Nadine Dorries has produced a good tweet.
...
...
...
No, we all need to sit with this one for a minute
(For the record... to us, that is an excellent joke. But I strongly suspect she wasn't joking and was trying to make a catty accusation instead, which coincidentally appeared like a roast.
Scientists are referring to this as Stopped Clock Syndrome.)
5.17pm
With great dignity, Rishi Sunak stands outside Number 10 and announces a general election on 4 July.
And by “great dignity”, I mean he’s soaked by rain, while “Things Can Only Get Better” plays in the background courtesy of an anti-Tory protestor with a big speaker and a dream; the song adopted by he Labour Party for the 1997 election, where Tony Blair famously won a landslide victory after 18 years of Tory rule. Eventually, the volume of it is raised so high Sunak is, on more than one level, drowned out.
5.37pm
According to Gabriel Pogrund of the Times, Labour can’t believe Number 10 allowed this to happen.
One Labour insider texts: “Umbrellas are woke”
6.06pm
Good tweet alert!
8pm
A later Guardian article reports that Sunak greeted around a hundred Tory activists – still wearing the same rain-soaked trousers from the announcement.
No word at all on why he doesn't have aides capable of fetching him dry trousers. Perhaps those, too, are woke.
8.14pm
A Sky News reporter is at Sunak’s campaign launch. But, bafflingly, he’s forcibly removed. Extraordinary scenes
Elanor's Pro Tip: Removing a journalist may not be the best PR move for the start of an election trail.
8.27pm
9.36pm
A GBNews reporter claims that some Tory MPs are trying desperately to replace Sunak as leader in order to call off the general election. For this to work, they’d need a vote of no confidence before the dissolution of parliament on Thursday 30 May. Except actually, that would have to happen before the proroguing of parliament on Friday 24 May.
So … this won’t work. But how very incredible - and hilarious - that they’re trying.
10.39pm
Let's take a look at the evening headlines!
A great start to Sunak’s campaign, with newspapers - including the Tory giant The Telegraph - celebrating the triumphant launch of his campaign:
Well! WHAT a day! Let's see how Thursday goes.
Thursday 23 May
8.00am
The BBC takes a moment to gleefully throw off the shackles of political oppression of the last 12 years to reveal that Rishi Sunak's announcement of a July election, the single most important announcement for a sitting government, the most sensitive and vitally-timed event in their calendar...
Was a total surprise to the rest of the party.
Tory party MPs found out when we did that they were about to have to campaign again. For a snap GE. Three weeks after having just done it for the council elections, in which they experienced the greatest single loss of their councillors in history. Even the damn meeting agenda was fake.
Still. Perhaps this explains the lack of umbrella or trousers.
9.09am
Nigel Farage confirms he will NOT stand at the general election.
*pause for applause*
That’s because he’s helping Trump get re-elected in the US right now.
*pause for screams*
This is good news for the Tories! And the rest of Britain, actually (commiserations to America. Please shoot him). Farage’s right-wing populist party - Reform UK - is the spiritual successor to UKIP and the Brexit Party, who’ve been splitting the right-wing vote for years. Farage is popular; it’s bad news for Reform if he’s not part of their campaign, but simply fantastic news for those of us who think queer folks, women and people of colour deserve human rights.
9.19am
According to BBC News and others, Sunak has hired Isaac Levido, the election strategist behind the Tories’ landslide win in 2019. Levido knows his stuff, and advised Sunak to stick with an autumn election.
Sunak ignored this advice. Lol.
9.20am
In the Guardian, Sunak says there WON’T be planes of immigrants flying to Rwanda before the general election. Good news for those of us who think it’s monstrous to deport immigrants to countries with unsafe governments. Bad news for Tory voters who were hoping to get racists to vote for them.
Now, this is particularly funny, because promising to deport refugees to Rwanda in spite of overwhelming legal opposition on human rights grounds is probably the single hill that the Tories have chosen to commit genocide on. This bill has been in and out of every court in the land since they promised it in 2019. It's been on again off again more than a tawdry tabloid romance. But, they finally managed to push it through, and the first planes were set to fly in July.
This means! That Sunak's strongest cards going into the election were the drop in inflation, and the Rwanda bill. He could sell it as "In spite of those bleeding heart liberals, we persevered and managed to tenaciously get rid of these browns and thus fulfilled our promise", and the fact that it won't actually affect the immigration numbers wouldn't be clear until after the election. And make no mistake, it is VITAL that those planes fly before any election - quoth one influential Conservative MP on the right of the party to the BBC:
“I know what question you’re going to ask us again and again. "You’ll say we’ve been banging on about Rwanda for years and we’ve only managed to fly one migrant out there - and we paid him to go”.
It took a single day for that gamble to dramatically fail.
Lol. Lmao, even. One might almost say rofl.
9.21am
Sunak is emphasising his own role in managing the economy.
The Guardian’s Rowena Mason points out that it might be better to sell this as a Tory victory rather than a Sunak victory, considering how badly Sunak’s doing as an individual in the polls.
10.45am
I'm obviously giving a lot of attention here to the funniest and most ridiculous stuff, but let’s take a moment to celebrate some genuinely brilliant journalism:
0_o
The whole article’s worth reading. It confirms that at least one more hi-vis wearer was a Tory councillor in disguise (in this case Ben Hall-Evans). Perhaps this is why they started by removing all the real journalists.
12.42pm
Sunak’s campaign takes him to a brewery in Wales! He attempts some Bonding With The Working Man and asks the workers if they’re excited for the football.
Top tip: if you don’t realise the country you’re in hasn’t qualified for the Euros, maybe don’t even mention the subject.
6.55pm
... here is a new problem. Ish.
As mentioned, three weeks ago, England held local council elections. In that time, the Tories lost over half their councillors; an unprecedented and staggering loss in one event. We are all still bathing in the schadenfreude.
But, many of those then left the party (probably fairly, actually - monsters though Tories are, that cannot have been fun.) But, the way politics in the UK works is that when you vote, you don't vote for the party - you vote for your local representative, and then it's a numbers game as to which party gets to rule. This means, with this sudden last-minute possibly-impulsively-declared-by-one-soggy-madman election now six weeks away, those candidates all need replacing so that the Tories will have a shot at getting the numbers they need to form a majority government.
Channel 4’s Paul McNamara reports that Conservative HQ have emailed asking for candidates in almost 100 seats. The deadline’s tight for this – and apparently, joining the lengthening list of people who weren't informed of this stupid election plan, Tory associations are livid at being left so unprepared.
Now, a lot of these seats are Labour strongholds, so you don’t necessarily need more than a token Tory candidate for them. Phew! A great relief.
But some of them are actually good Tory seats. Uh oh! Basildon, Bury St Edmunds, Wellingborough and Rushden … It’s a bad hit to the Tories to have so little time to find good candidates for these seats.
8.59pm
Labour launch a campaign video. It’s long, but the message is, “Remember life before the Tories got into power? Wasn’t it BRILLIANT?”
And to prove how great 2009 was, they’ve included a clip of David Tennant’s Dr Who saying “I don’t want to go.”
Lol.
9.57pm
Filmmaker Richard Cubitt jokily suggests he could stand as a Tory candidate, and immediately defect to Labour as soon as possible once elected.
I don’t know if the deadline’s closed, but I am now speaking to the chat. Lads: the time will never be better. Do it. Tell the Tories you'll stand for them. Immediately defect. You have the opportunity to do the funniest thing. Be the rot in the barrel. The time is now.
ANYWAY. Oh boy. Day one of campaigning was quite bad. Ah well! Onwards and upwards for Wali Heb Broli. Let's see what Friday brings.
And of course: the losses are staggering (100 candidates!), but it could be worse.
At least it's not senior MPs.
Friday 24 May
7.00am
Over 70 MPs confirm they will not be standing for re-election.
7.35am
It’ll be lovely to see this election get rid of some truly awful Tories. But no need to wait that long! John Redwood stands down. I haven't mentioned him before, but let's look at his clownface eggshell.
He opposed reducing the age of consent for homosexuality in 1994 and 1999, he voted to keep Section 28 in 2003, he opposed same sex marriage, he voted to reintroduce the death penalty in 1988, 1990 and 1994, he’s argued against Greta Thunberg over the UK’s climate emissions.
Although English, he became Secretary of State for Wales in 1993, and at a Tory conference, had to mime badly to the Welsh national anthem which he hadn’t bothered learning. In 1995, he cheated Wales out of a £100 million grant by returning it unspent to the treasury, so it could go back to England.
So, John – if by some fantastically rare chance you’re somehow reading this – it’s wonderful to see you step down. I wish you a very warm fuck you. And I hope the rest of your life is absolutely horrible and filled with immeasurable pain. Kisses.
7.58am
Vicky Spratt of the i newspaper announces that, with an election announced, the Renters’ Reform won’t pass.
This is a big deal, actually - this was a rare good promise in the Tories’ 2019 manifesto to protect renters by ending no-fault evictions. A good promise! With cross-parliamentary support, only slowed as much as it was because most Tory backbenchers are landlords and so tried to block it. But the fighting raged on, and it was finally agreed.
And now it’s broken. Wasting months of work by stakeholders, and thus forming another election promise that would have sailed through if only the election hadn't been called for July.
8.09am
Jeremy Corbyn – remember him? Former Labour leader, who was expelled from the Labour party in 2020 – confirms he’ll be standing as an independent. He’s continued to be a member of Labour despite being an independent MP – but standing against Labour in an election means he’ll have his membership revoked too.
9.26am
So where are we at? How do you reckon the normal Tories in the party are faring? Do you think they're positive of a win? Do you think they expect to lose?
Great Guardian article here:
Highlights - one government minister happened to bump into his equivalent opposition member, and immediately thrust his official folder towards them, saying, “You might as well have this now.”
Another Tory MP hugged a Labour colleague and cast their arm around the room. “Good luck. This is all yours.”
One Tory backbencher was asked if it was a good idea to call an election. “It’s a disaster. I can’t understand it.”
Even when they’re being optimistic, the Tories seem a little glum. One long-standing MP said: “Of course I’m going to fight it, I don’t believe in just giving up like the prime minister has obviously decided to.”
A former minister raises an interesting point. It’s not long, after all, since the Tories suffered those major defeats at the local council elections. That's impacted the number of candidates, of course - but, local canvassing is largely done, on all parts of the political spectrum, but activist volunteers.
That loss was three weeks ago. If you were a volunteer who just spent weeks knocking on the doors of your neighbours and community, trying to convince them to vote for the dead horse, and then lost – maybe you won’t feel like hitting the streets again so soon. Maybe you'd prefer to be able to meet your neighbours' eyes when you bump into them in the bread slicing queue at Morrisons.
Some MPs have even admitted they won’t be cancelling holiday plans to fight the election. On top of that, there's over 70 MPs that have already confirmed they’re quitting and won’t be seeking re-election!!! Absolute scenes.
Interestingly, some anti-Sunak Tories report frustration. They reckon they were close to calling a vote of no-confidence, in the hopes of replacing Sunak with a different leader. No idea if this is true – and if true, whether Sunak knew it. But given the panicked speed at which it seems to have been called...
11.08am
The campaign takes Rishi Sunak to the Titanic Quarter, to be interviewed by Belfast Live.
Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t let journalists interview you on a site named after history’s most famous sinking ship.
11.57am
How’s the campaign going, Rishi?
Oh, Rishi. Looks like someone else is not meeting anyone's eyes in the bread-slicing queue.
1.12pm
Politics UK reports that 75 Tory MPs are now standing down at the election – the same number of Tories who stood down ahead of the 1997 election.
2.49pm
Sunak’s campaign takes him on board an aeroplane.
Elanor's Pro Tip: if you’re the leader of a failing political party, maybe don’t be photographed in front of an exit sign.
7.07pm
MICHAEL GOVE ANNOUNCES HE’S STANDING DOWN AS AN MP!
I could honestly use that gif like seventeen times in this write up. You can all thank me for my restraint in choosing just one.
The 79th Tory to do so at this election – an all-time record exodus. Hey gang, would you like to see some familiar names joining him in this?
Theresa May
Sajid Javid
Dominic Raab
Matt Hancock
Ben Wallace
Nadhim Zahawi.
It’s just … not a great sign for the party, is it? That so many prominent MPs don’t reckon it’s worth sticking around.
7.50pm
Hey, remember those parody videos of Hitler getting angry with funny subtitles? Someone made a good Sunak one:
vimeo
10.48pm
The Guardian’s Kiran Stacey reports that Sunak will retreat from the campaign trail, spending the next day at home.
Honestly... that's probably best. Let him recover from the bread excitement.
10.50pm
We round off the day with Andrea Leadsom announcing she too is standing down as an MP. Bye, bitch.
WHAT A DAY! Still, Saturday will probably be better.
Saturday 25 May
12am
New episode of Doctor Who drops! It contains Welsh faeries. I later write a post explaining this. You're all welcome. Back to the circus.
10.06am
Good tweet alert!
11.14am
Keir Starmer promises to lower the voting age from 18 to 16 if he wins the election.
2.43pm
Hey remember how David Hameron was supposed to be in Albania? And actually went there? And then had to come back because of Rishi's totally-planned-for election announcement?
The Mirror reports that David Cameron spent £60,000 of taxpayers’ money getting to Albania for that trip. He was there for 89 minutes, before he had to come back in light of the general election announcement.
This means it cost the country £674 a minute for Cameron to be in Albania for about as long as it takes to watch The Lion King.
6.14pm
Labour and the Tories put candidates forward for 650 seats in a general election.
Of course, that's not quite all of them. The Times’ Patrick Maguire understands that Labour have only 13 candidates left to select, which is pretty good. The Tories are missing slightly more than that.
They need to find around 190.
(The number is rising. Chat, you know what to do.)
9.29pm
According to the Telegraph, Theresa May has said if she was still PM she would have used an umbrella to declare the election.
She probably would have, too.
10.11pm
Now then!!! Gather round boys and girls and all the rest!
Remember: the election was called based upon the following main cards in Sunak's hand:
The Rwanda bill
Inflation falling
The Renter's Reform Bill
Inflation fell, but not by as much as it should have. The Rwanda plan fell through a day later. The election itself has blocked the Renter's Reform bill.
Rishi needs a new set of promises stat, in order to shore up votes from his most important bastions of support. What can he offer?
The evening brings the answer!
At 10.11pm - note the time - in spite of having taken the day off, Sunak promises mandatory national service for every 18 year old if he wins the election. Either a year-long army placement, or a weekend a month volunteering for a year.
Sounds like a good pledge, if you’re hoping to motivate 18-year-olds to vote against you.
10.16pm
The Financial Times’ Jim Pickard reveals that the National Citizen Service (David Cameron’s legacy project) had its funding slashed by two-thirds in a 2022 review of government youth funding - when the chancellor was Rishi Sunak.
Five minutes. That’s how long it took a journalist to melt Sunak’s new pledge.
Still; Tories never let facts get in the way.
10.27pm
Politics UK reports that leaked documents suggest teenagers would be jailed for refusing this national service.
11.47pm
Sunak's bad ideas generator works hard, but the meme makers of the internet work harder:
Still. Sunday is a day of rest! Hopefully Sunday will be better.
Sunday 26 May
9.50am
Let’s check the Sunday tweets.
Starting to think whoever is in charge of optics for Rishi Sunak may be a Labour plant.
10.21am
Fantastic tweet alert:
I Agree With Gabby
3pm
And then... PLOT TWIST!!!
FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Sunak’s national service pledge - including assigning up to 30,000 18-year-olds to the military - was rejected this week by one of his own defence ministers.
Defence personnel minister Andrew Murrison warned of a hit to morale, headcount and resources if “potentially unwilling national service recruits” were introduced alongside Britain’s professional armed forces.
EVEN THE ARMY DON'T WANT THIS.
6.47pm
And then:
Incredible story from Gabriel Pogrund of the Times.
St Paul’s School, if you haven't heard of it, is an expensive and famous private school in England somewhere (I forget where and don't care). As with other private schools, they’d be subject post-election to a Labour plan to remove their VAT exemption.
Tory MP Greg Hands took matters into his own Greg hands, and messaged the school’s parents’ WhatsApp group to try and drum up anti-Labour sentiment.
I can see the logic. These are parents with money, who have chosen to send their children to a private school that often means an easy track into politics generally and the Tory party specifically. I see why he thought he was safe.
Tumblrs, he was not safe.
Parents intervened, complaining about Hands spamming the chat, and claiming his use of the chat was “inappropriate”.
One parent messaged: “Can we stop assuming everyone is a Tory in this group. A return to more morality, less corruption and more social conscience in British politics is not something to oppose necessarily.”
Another expressed that some parents will “feel it is hard to defend private schools being vat exempt.”
Ouch. Swing and a miss, Greg Hands.
Anyway. New week, new campaigning. I am writing this on Tuesday, and so our tale is nearly at an end for now; so let's see what happened on Monday.
Monday 27 May (Yesterday)
7.40am
Britain's teenagers respond to the national service plan. I love this tweet and the video it reposts:
And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the video:
8.17am
Tory MP Steve Baker (more on him later) actually tweets a public criticism of Sunak’s national service plan. You might be thinking "Well yes, obviously"! But no! For you see, when approaching elections, parties need to be united. Divided parties generally find it harder to win elections.
Naughty Steve.
8.41am
Foreign Office Minister Anne-Marie Trevelyan, having seen the absolute shambles of Sunak’s campaigning, wakes up this fine Monday morn and invites him to hold her beer.
Appearing on Times Radio, she’s asked whether the parents of teenagers could be prosecuted if the teens refuse to take up national service.
And she doesn’t rule it out.
NO BUT WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANNE-MARIE. IS THIS YOUR FIRST DAY OUT OF THE HOUSE.
Parents are NOT prosecuted for any wrongdoing of their ADULT CHILDREN. How do you not understand this basic legal concept. The answer to that question was “no”! You say “no” because it makes your party more likely to be elected, and you say “no” because the answer is no.
Oh dear. What a gaffe, as the papers say. Gosh, I really hope Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe stays contained.
8.56am
The Telegraph duly reports that parents of 18-year-olds might be fined if their children refuse national service.
Anne-Marie Trevelyan’s gaffe did not stay contained.
10.55am
Looks like the Tories are unhappy that the press revealed that Sunak took a day off from campaigning.
But that’s okay, they have a new strategy! Reported by Politico, they’ve decided to suggest that Keir Starmer is too old to be a good Prime Minister.
They called him “weary” yesterday afternoon;
Tory Party Chair Richard Holden says it’s “bizarre” for Starmer to rest at home the day before a speech (but not for Rishi to - ? You know what, never mind);
A Tory aide tells the Sun that Starmer should be dubbed “Sir Sleepy” (what a Zinger, as those conscripted into national service say);
Another Tory aide calls Starmer “Sleepy Keir” according to the FT.
Keir Starmer is 61 years old.
11.17am
Let's check Tory candidate numbers!!!
Now last we looked it was 190, but obviously, as this is possibly their most urgent priority, they've been working flat out and recruiting across the land and so they have, fair play, managed to reduce that number.
The Spectator therefore reports that the Tories have 12 days to select 160 candidates. Would you like to see the maths?
This means, on average, they need to select one candidate every 100 minutes. Which is slightly less time than it takes to watch Toy Story 3.
#ChatYouKnowWhatToDo
12.41pm
The FT’s Lucy Fisher reports that Tory HQ has accidentally sent out an email criticising Tory MPs for failing to campaign, and warning of financial concerns in some seats.
Cannot stress this enough: even if the Tory campaign was going really well and they were predicting a landslide their way, this would be a terrible blow.
5.02pm
The Mirror reports that Tory MP Steve Baker is on holiday in Greece. That’s pretty irresponsible, isn’t it? What does Baker have to say for himself?
"The Prime Minister told everyone we could go on holiday and then called a snap election. So I've chosen to do my campaign work in Greece."
… this is the greatest Tory campaign in history.
(And once again... when exactly did you decide to do this, Rishi?)
5.15pm
In an absolutely baffling move whose motives I still cannot entirely fathom, Tory MP Lucy Allan - a repugnant, malignant liar of a woman who once altered an email from a constituent so she could claim it contained a death threat against her - is suspended by the party, for telling voters in her ward to vote for Reform UK instead of the Tories.
...
...
...
...wwwhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
6.18pm
Good tweet alert! Here's political journalist Jonn Elledge:
6.30pm
Meanwhile, a Tory chooses to contact journalist Theo Usherwood over WhatsApp, criticising the election strategist Isaac Levido:
Now this is particularly interesting, because Levido is the guy who managed to swing the last GE to BlowJo, even though Labour were riding high on Corbyn. And I don't know, maybe he is actually shit at this and all that was luck.
I just... wouldn't have said he was the reason for this one going the way it is. Necessarily.
Finally, let's finish off Monday with a last good tweet:
10.06pm
***
That's all for now, folks! Thank you for reading, enjoy the circus playing out this week!
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hello love! i know you probably a dumpster load of requests so i apologize for taking your time. but i just had a thought.; james potter is totally the kind of guy to tell his girlfriend he's taken when drunk. like that man is to loyal for his own good. even when his own gf is trying to bring to home, he's just like "no. i've got a girlfriend that I love DEARLY. leave me alone" and when she keeps trying he'd call for sirius for backup😭. don't feel guilty if you don't do this!! i just wanted to share my thought, with or without you writing it! have an AMAZING day or night, and keep being YOU!! you inspire many people whether you believe that or not, it stays true!!!
Thanks sweetheart, love you!
cw: alcohol
modern au
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 844 words
You find your boyfriend in a corner booth, hanging onto Sirius’ arm and waxing poetic about their school days.
“They never figured out how we always avoided Minnie whenever she wanted to find us,” he snickers, eyes glimmering. “We were soooo slippery.”
“I think she knew everything,” says Remus, taking a sip of his drink. You notice there’s not one in front of James; it must have been confiscated. “She just liked us—some of us, that is—” He hides a smirk behind his glass. “—well enough to let us get away with it all.” He spots you and, with a nod, turns his attention to Sirius to give you and James space.
James humphs noncommittally, confused as to why Remus no longer seems to be entertaining him.
You come up on his other side, touching his muscled shoulder lightly. “Hey.”
James turns swiftly, clearing not having noticed you walking over. You’re expecting a smile and a hug and expectant, puckered lips—his usual greeting for you—but instead his eyes narrow behind his glasses, brows twitching together almost imperceptibly.
“Hello,” he says, somewhat stiffly.
You feel your lips curve into a bemused sort of smile. “Hi, handsome. Ready to go home?”
He guffaws. Actually guffaws, like you’ve just suggested he go jump in the Thames. “I think not,” he says. “I have a girlfriend.”
A tiny laugh startles out of you. “Yeah, I’m aware. You alright?”
Now he gives you a smile. Or his best attempt at one, but James has always been a terrible actor, and the false grin manifests as a grimace. “M’good, thanks.”
He starts to turn back towards his friends, but you pull on his sleeve.
“C’mon, Jamie,” you urge. “It’s time to go, yeah?” James turns around, looking truly scandalized now. You give his arm a tug. “Let’s go home.”
“No,” he insists, firmer than you knew could be managed with a slur. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. She’s waiting at my home, ‘nd I love her very much. Leave me alone.”
“James,” you laugh. “Honey, it’s me.”
“Pads.” He turns around, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ shoulders like he needs to hold onto something lest you try and haul him away. “Pads, this woman is trying to take me home. Tell ‘er I have a girlfriend.”
Your mouth drops open. “James!”
Sirius turns slowly, raking his gaze over you. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Get lost, babe. This one’s taken.”
Then he jolts and cuts a glare towards Remus, who sips from his drink innocently. “Be nice,” he reminds his boyfriend, foot moving back under his own chair.
Sirius sighs, rolling his eyes. “Prongs,” he says with great reluctance, “this is your girlfriend.”
Even drunk, James knows enough to be suspicious of his friend when he’s in a mischief-making mood. He squints at Sirius. “My girlfriend s’at home,” he reasons.
“Your girlfriend is here,” Sirius says evenly, and you can’t blame James for his skepticism; if you weren’t fully aware that you are here, you wouldn’t trust Sirius’ deadpan stare either.
“I texted her, James,” Remus says helpfully. “She’s here because I told her where we were.”
Your boyfriend’s lips part, and he turns to you with something between joy and heartache—but the shock of both—written all over his face. “Sweetheart,” he cries, “it’s you!”
“Yeah,” you laugh, letting him tug you forward by the hips into an awkward hug. You set a consoling hand on top of his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”
“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your stomach. “I didn’t know it was you, angel. Of course I’ll go home with you.”
“Glad to hear it.” You pat his back, heat rising to your cheeks at the display.
James turns his head, still gripping you tightly so the side of his face is pressed to your front. “You texted her for me?” he asks Remus, maudlin.
“Well, I texted her because I didn’t feel like walking in the opposite direction of our flat to carry you home,” Remus says, then shrugs. “But for you too, sure.”
“Thank you, Moony,” James croons.
Remus turns to hide a smile, and you take James’ head in your hands, angling his face back up towards you. “Hi, handsome,” you try again. “Ready to go home?”
He bobs his head happily, clambering out of his seat and whistling rowdily when you slip an arm around his waist to help support him. You wonder if the heat from your face could be harvested to power a hospital or something. You wave goodbye to his friends as James calls over your shoulder how much he’ll miss them until he sees them tomorrow.
“M’so excited to go home, baby.” He leans into your side as you maneuver the both of you out the door of the pub. “I’ve been dying to get home to you. You should’a heard, earlier, I was talking to this other girl ‘nd I told her, ‘I’m just dying to get home to my girlfriend’.”
“Yeah, I remember,” you say. “That was me.”
“Oh, right!”
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter oneshot#james potter one shot#marauders#the marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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simon loves to see you wearing his shirts, as underneath there is nothing but a pair of comfortable panties in which you walk around the house, doing various chores and minding your own business, not noticing how he loops after you like a puppy.
the mere sight warms him from the inside, his brown eyes heats like black tea brewing in a mug as he watches you cook breakfast, the black fabric of his plain t shirt looks unbearably cozy and seductive on you, as simon's calloused hands leave the mug and reach out to touch you wherever they can, to put his hands under the fabric and stroke the naked flesh.
he's turning needy, obsessed with you in any way possible — constantly sticking to you and touching you, thin pale lips pressing into your jaw and neck with passionate, small kisses, hands stroking and kneading you everywhere they can, whether it's your plush asscheeks, rounded breasts or waist, as he presses against you from the back with all his heavy weight.
you allow him, loving his every touch, because it took him a long time to feel so relaxed next to you, and now he can't even afford to leave you anymore.
simon is always there, as close as possible to snuggle up to you or hold you, enjoying the warm touch of your hands on his body as well as his on yours, pressing you into his chest.
needless to say that the only thing of all the chores you managed to do was make breakfast for the two of you, and even that was with great zeal — because of the way simon groped you everytime and practically purred in your ear with pleasure, relishing in just simply being next to you.
and you can't refuse to simon when he looks at you with such tenderness in his still sleepy, warm brown eyes, because nothing terrible will happen if you take care of the rest of the chores a little later, right?
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.
#.𐙚july's writings#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley x female reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley comfort#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley comfort#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#ghost x f!reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon riley drabble#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon ghost riley drabble#simon riley headcanons#domestic!ghost#domestic!simon
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title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)
smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.
--
you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.
well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.
for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.
so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.
and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.
(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)
the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.
"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.
there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.
there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.
and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.
you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.
you up? i miss you.
the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.
still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.
yeah. let me send you an uber.
that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.
besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.
--
"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"
this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.
"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.
"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."
"of course not. i...i got busy."
it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)
"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.
"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."
he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.
seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.
"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."
you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.
"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"
"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"
"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."
before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.
"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.
your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.
that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.
his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.
even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.
"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.
one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.
you're sure he's punishing you by now.
"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.
"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.
and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.
"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.
so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.
when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.
"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.
he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.
"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"
you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.
then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.
god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.
"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."
you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.
seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.
you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.
he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.
"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"
meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.
" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."
he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.
"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"
you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.
"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."
the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.
"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."
"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.
"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.
it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.
"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.
"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.
"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.
seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.
"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."
"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"
"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."
this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.
"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."
all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.
it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.
then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.
by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)
you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.
"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"
somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.
seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."
"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.
usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.
but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.
"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."
you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.
"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."
"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."
"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."
"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."
seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.
he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"
"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."
"ok. freak."
while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.
there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.
you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?
you have no time to think about this any further.
"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.
"wanna join me?"
he smiles, ear to ear.
"thought you'd never ask."
--
morning comes slowly.
you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.
last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.
the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.
"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.
"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.
you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.
what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.
your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.
complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.
"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"
"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.
now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.
"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.
"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.
"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."
damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.
seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.
"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."
"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."
it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.
"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."
"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."
"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.
"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."
"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."
"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"
"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."
you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.
his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.
before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.
"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.
"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.
"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."
"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"
"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."
"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."
it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.
his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.
"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.
your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.
seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.
he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.
"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.
it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.
when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.
yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.
"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.
"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"
it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.
"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."
"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."
"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.
"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."
against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.
so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.
"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."
instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.
when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.
in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."
you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.
"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.
"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."
it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.
choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.
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A Word of Advice About Critique Groups, Beta Readers, and Other Peer-Based Feedback on Your Writing
In my time as a professional editor, I've had many writers come to me with stories they've been trying to improve based on suggestions from critique groups, beta readers, or other non-professional feedback sources (friends, family, etc.). The writers are often frustrated because they don't agree with the feedback, they can't make sense of the comments they've gotten, or they've tried their best to implement the suggestions but now they've made a big mess of things and don't know where to go from here.
If this happens to you, you're not alone. Here's the deal.
Readers and beginning writers are great at sniffing out problems, but they can be terrible at recommending solutions. For that reason, critique groups can be a disastrous place for beginning writers to get advice.
Here's a good metaphor. Imagine you don’t know the first thing about cars. Someone tells you, “There’s oil leaking onto the driveway. You should cover the car with a giant garbage bag.” Alarmed, you oblige, only to be told the next day that “now the car smells like burning plastic and I can’t see out the windows.”
A mechanic would’ve listened to the critic’s complaint and come up with their own solution to the leaking oil, ignoring the amateur’s ridiculous idea, because they know how to fix cars and can use their skills to investigate symptoms and find the correct solution.
Critique groups actually aren’t bad places for experienced writers, because they can listen to the criticism, interpret it, and come up with their own remedies to the problems readers are complaining about. Beginning writers, on the other hand, can end up digging themselves into a deeper hole.
There's a great Neil Gaiman quote about this very conundrum:
Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.
So what to do?
First, try to investigate the reader's complaint and come up with your own solution, instead of taking their solution to the problem. Sometimes, in the end, the reader's solution was exactly right, which is lovely, but don't count on it. Do your own detective work.
Second, take everything you hear with a huge grain of salt, and run the numbers. Are 9 out of 10 readers complaining about your rushed ending? It's probably worth investigating. Does nobody have an issue with your abrasive antagonist except your cozy mystery-loving uncle? Then you might not need to worry about it.
Third, give everything you hear a gut check. Does the criticism, while painful, ring true? Or does it seem really off-base to you? Let the feedback sit for a week or so while you chill out. You might find you're less sensitive and open to what's been said after a little more time has passed.
Lastly, consider getting professional feedback on your writing. Part of my job as an editor is to listen to previous feedback the writer has gotten, figure out whether the readers were tracking the scent of legitimate problems, and offer the writer more coherent solutions. Of course, some professional editors aren't very good at this, just like some non-professional readers are amazing at it, so hiring someone isn't a guarantee. But editors usually have more experience taking a look under the hood and giving writers sound mechanical advice about their work, rather than spouting ideas off the top of their head that only add to the writer's confusion.
Hope this helps!
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In the wake of what's going on in the world, I see a lot of rhetoric that basically boils down to the idea that everyone has a responsibility to watch every bad thing that's going on in the world all the time. That awareness itself is a responsibility that everyone has always.
I'm not going to say that people do or don't have a responsibility to be aware of things, but I want to talk about how to take care of yourself and others while doing so.
For some context, I spent close to a year and a half reading about every terrorist attack in the world as part of my work on the Global Terrorism Database. It was 2015/2016, so this was the height of ISIS/Daesh, it was a major time for Boko Haram, and it was when there was a lot of political violence that we weren't sure how to classify in places like Yemen, Crimea, and Libya (stuff the GTD didn't know how to classify had all of is information recorded, and then it went into purgatory until someone above my paygrade decided what to do with it). What this means is that I was spending 10-20 hours a week reading about hundreds or thousands of attacks a month and, in my case, recording infomation about the type of attack and the type of weapon. Much of my life was reading terrible things.
Limit what you do in isolation. One of the worst changes for me during that time, mental health-wise (even though it was great for my commute) was when I went from working in-person to working remotely. With other people, there are ways to diffuse the pain. A burden shared is a burden halved and all that. That may mean talking about it, or joking about it, or finding some other way to engage with it that isn't just reading about the most horrible things in the world and then stewing in your own thoughts about them.
Find something to do that's totally unrelated. I highly recommend finding something to do with your hands, if you can (knitting, Lego, cooking, whatever), but regardless of what it is, you should have some time when you entirely switch away to something different. During a fair amount of my time with the GTD, I was also doing my undergrad thesis about terrorism on TV, so a huge amount of my life was about terrorism in some way. The only other thing I watched was Great British Bake Off, and I would just rewatch the episodes, over and over.
Be compassionate about how you share information and with whom. Use trigger warnings, and consider using consistent tagging on places like Tumblr so people can blacklist it if they need to. Also consider whether it's appropriate or necessary to share photos of bodies or other results of horrible violence. What is it accomplishing, to show that? Can that goal be accomplished other ways that don't require the equivalent of jumpscares of unexpected photos of dead or brutalized people? Are you just showing it because you think that everyone should have to see it? If you are showing it, are there ways to mitigate against harm it may do?
Do what you can to avoid an echo chamber. Sometimes, when everyone around you is upset or angry about the same thing, it just amplifies itself, and you all get angrier and more upset in perpetuity without accomplishing anything.
Work towards action. Watching terrible things happen for the sake of saying that you haven't looked away isn't as meaningful as taking action in some way. Write to your Congressperson. Donate. Do whatever is appropriate for the thing you want to stop. But penance via watching terrible things happen doesn't accomplish anything.
Recognize compassion fatigue and do what you can to mitigate it. If you spend long enough doing this, you start to lose context, and you start to become less able to have compassion about things. If you're reading about attacks with dozens or hundreds of deaths regularly, five can start to not seem like that many. If you're reading only about the worst suffering in the world, "lesser" suffering of those around you can start to seem unimportant and petty. Do what you can to mitigate that.
Be kind to yourself. You do nobody any good if you burn out. Look away, if you need to. Take a break. Do things so you can enjoy life, because otherwise you are just another person suffering in the world. Other people's pain isn't a hair shirt for you to wear.
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