#it doesn’t always have to be winning the lottery
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becausebuckley · 2 days ago
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michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!
what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!
this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.
if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!
all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M
When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3
i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M
Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3
if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA
Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3
let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T
Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!
second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M
how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3
said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T
And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe
there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA
Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3
you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T
five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3
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batwynn · 2 months ago
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May your day be average.
May your food taste normal.
May your stresses be simple.
May your joy be honest.
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miametropolis · 9 months ago
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when the Doctor goes to the Powell Estate on New Year’s Eve as he’s dying, he asks Rose what year it is. all of the other visits were so calculated. he saves Mickey and Martha on a distant planet, just in the nick of time. he swats Luke out of the road before a car comes. he goes back in time and finds Geoffrey Noble, borrowing a quid, and gives Wilf a winning lottery ticket worth millions. he caught Donna’s wedding, just as she stepped out of the church.
But Rose. Oh, with Rose.
the Doctor says: “what year is this?” because he doesn’t even know.
do you think he just jammed his hands into the telepathic circuit as his body failed? do you think he just dreamt of her, desperately, the one face he was dying to see? do you think he hoped, prayed, that somehow he’d end up on her doorstep?
and the he’s in an alleyway full of snow. in London. and he knows that building, knows those stairs. and it’s finally snowing, for real this time. and he sees her, doesn’t even mean to speak to her, too afraid of timelines and paradoxes as putting her at risk…
but he’s in pain, and he grunts, and Rose—always ready to help someone in pain—turns around.
and the Doctor says: “what year is this?”
and when Rose says it’s 2005…oh, how his face lights up. It’s all ahead for her. And for him, too. I bet—he says—you’re gonna have a really great year...
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cryptfile · 1 month ago
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★ kinktober file 01 — wandering star, d. winchester
based on this request here, fem! reader, 18+ mdni, warnings of established relationship, degradation, dumbification, edging, p in v, oral sex, praise kink, english is not my first lenguage (thank god!) any mistakes? i’m not sorry for it, feel free to hit me up with requests in my inbox to keep kinktober going! <3 also, dividers by @cafekitsune!
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He’s cocky after a hunt goes the way he wants.
Dean Winchester’s always a damn headache after a sucessful solved case. He gets in this mood where he feels invincible and well, he just feels like he could win the lottery if he puts his mind into it.
Sam’s done by the time you guys are in the next town, checking into another cheap motel. The older Winchester has been a damn pain in the ass the whole ride so the first thing he does when you guys ask for separate rooms? Ditch the problem to you.
“He’s your boyfriend,” he’d say, obviously done with his sassy attitude as he left to his own private space — Sacred space he values since you appeared. “You deal with him.”
You love your boyfriend that’s for sure but after a hunt? Your muscles are sore, you feel like you’re going to get sick and on top of all? You been dying for a hot shower and bed.
Dean’s plans are way different, cause by the time Sam leaves saying he’s going to buy burgers in any open restaurant, he’s all over you. Literally.
“Why are you so needy?” you ask furrowing your brows, he’s in a good mood now that he survived a violent ghost who’s bones you had to burn, and honestly, it doesn’t make any sense: The rush of adrenaline? The near death experience? Usually he’s deep in his third dream by now, but that night? He got this grin in his face when he’s pushing you to the motel bed despite any response he could recieve—. “Dean.”
“Just want to make m’lady feel on cloud nine,” he says, planting soft kisses on the exposed skin of your neck, a fight you cannot possibly win. “Can I do that? Take care of my girl?”
Thing is, deep down, you don’t want to win any fight. Not that one at least when Dean’s pulling you to the edge of the bed, unblucking his belt as he lets the fabric of his jeans fall to the floor, he’s craving you ever since you pulled this show up in the morning when you said there was no time to shower together since the case was so important. Naked, standing in a foggy bathroom: You won’t let him have you? Not even ten minutes? Fucking unfair.
He can do a lot in ten. You do love it even when it’s rushed, when Sam’s pushing on the other side of the door screaming something about being late, his only goal is to take whatever he needs, so in ten minutes he can do plenty. He can kneel on the slippery floor, filthy thoughts as he helps you lift up your leg — “Such a pretty pussy, already dripping for me?” he would said, the sound of his voice imprinted in your memory. The warm water burns on your skin as he uses a hand to spread you open, buring his face in your cunt without a previous warning.
Even under the shower he makes you sweat. Dean’s damn skilled so he knows what spot he needs to hit to get you there, the wet sounds that fill the bathroom on random mornings — He knows you’re getting there when his digits finally fill you up in a way you can even describe, his tongue lapping over your clit, taking his time, savouring each sound he manages to get out of you, the way you say his name when he’s nose-deep in what he claims belongs to him.
And god you’re a mess. A fucking mess every single time.
“You owe me,” Dean says confident, “We solve the case, job done here. I want your full attention now.”
He has it soon after. Every ounce of it.
He’s not patient enough to play with you before like he would do in the morning, in the dirty motel you’re now at the hunter would mumble something about not giving a single fuck about preparing you cause you’re already wet enough for him, something about being already used to his size cause he’d fucked you plenty of times before, that your warm and tight cunt is already prepared for him cause you’ve been his for months, convinced that you can take him. No problem at all.
“You were such a bitch to me this morning,” he says, pushing your cheek against the matress, not caring enough about your comfort as he forces himself inside you, muffling the sounds of your moans as he places his hand on your mouth, keeping you in place—. “Do you have any idea of how hard is to concentrate on a ghost when all I can think is to have you beneath?”
He’s rough when he’s needy, straight up filthy as he lets his primal desires take over. Dean forgets about it all. His hand collides against your ass a couple of times, spanking hard enough so the skin is red to be visibly noticiable, to make you think about another pain more than the one you felt as he’s finally buried inside you.
“Atta girl” he praises, leaning to place kisses on your shoulders, giving you just enough time to adjust— “Lookin’ so pretty when full of my cock.”
He enjoys the view so much. So damn much Dean chuckles for a second, almost proud of the mess he’s done with you, always so damn tight, already clenching on his dick as you squirm desesperate to move. He got you where he wants you to be.
“Move that nice ass for me,” he says seconds after, demanding you to take him faster as he moves you at the rythm he needs—. “That’s it, fuck yourself pretty witch, work for it.”
“Dean,” you whine, the sound distant thanks to his fingers covering your mouth— “Dean-please”
“What are you begging for?” he chuckles, the sound of his laugh making your skin shiver as his hips buckle up to meet the pace you’ve been setting— “My girl is dumb for my cock already? Only a few minutes in and my baby is talking nonsense?”
He’s giving you exactly what you need, that nice pace as he grabs you by the tights, fingers buried in your skin as his movements become more erratic, desesperate as the time passes.
Dean waits. Cause he can be a cruel son of a bitch sometimes, drive you fucking mad cause he knows when’s you’re close to release, when you’re ready to cum as he slides his cock off, leaving you hollow as you loudly gasp.
“What the actual-fuck?” you ask clearly annoyed, looking over your shoulder as he offers you a sly grin—. “Dean, what the fuck?”
“We are goint to work in some manners here,” he says, grabbing you by the hair, roughly pulling your head to the side so he can look at your face while speaking—. “Cause you’re not doing to me what you did in the morning ever again. Teasing me all fucking day, acting all innocent about it. No. You’re gonna cum when I say so. And we’re gonna start all over again ‘till that big brains of yours finally gets it: No more leaving Dean Winchester all hard in the bathroom.”
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next kinktober file [ art donaldson ] // masterlist
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nichuuu · 8 months ago
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Scatterbrain
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Word count: 18k+
They say it takes a village to raise a child. 
To raise a girl as fine as Jang Wonyoung, you’d probably need 3 whole villages.
Two of those three villages would be used to train the way she walks because it’s perfect: classy, poised, elegant. The other one would have to work on her outfits because god would she need those. Hopefully the village doesn’t operate a Shein style manufacturing line. She’d hate that.
Her face is the definition of “striking the gene pool lottery”, and so is the rest of her body. Lanky arms and legs; toned, slim tummy; big, bright eyes that glimmer under the flashing lights. Personally, you like her “you’re on camera” smile the most. She knows this, and she always makes it a point to shoot it your way as she struts towards you. She stops half way to get a flute of Champagne, make that two actually, then grabs another. Those long legs can cover one hell of a distance, and they bring her right to you in a matter of seconds.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” she hands you the Champagne flute in her left hand, and the rings on it shine in the light, “cause it’s starting to feel like you’re just stalking me now.”
Of course, it’s the snarky remarks that open the conversation. Jang Wonyoung, airheaded as ever m’lady, and you sip on the Bubbly that she’s very nicely delivered to you. Wonyoung is, of course, a little bit of an airhead in your books (only because she believes that you’re always there for her, nothing else), and it’s never not hilarious to watch her draw her lips into a thin line. It’s not the first time she’s hearing this from you; it certainly won’t be the last. You can’t control where you’re posted to, but you know for a fact that you’ll see her again a couple months down the road.
Cause your meetings with Jang Wonyoung are through pure serendipity really, and you certainly will start calling it that after you read that one story. You know: the one where this guy cheats on his idol girlfriend, who he has a tense relationship with, with another idol that he happens to meet just about everywhere. There’s 0 communication between the two of you when these types of events come around, and neither of you know if either of you will be there or not. Actually, it’s just you really; neither of you know if you will be there. 
“Here for Kwon Eunbi again? Or are you finding someone else?” This question of her’s is customary at this point. Never once has it been perfunctory.
“Well, I was actually here to try and catch an interview with Jo Yuri, but I guess you’ll do,” you reply. Wonyoung scoffs—so I’m second place then?—and you have to assuage her oh-so-damaged ego, “you’re making this inference on your own Princess. I never said anything remotely close to that.”
And it’s that smile on her face that makes you want to kiss her really. It’s gorgeous, it’s cute, it’s beautiful. She’s given you that damned smile so many times that you could probably draw it from memory, though you’d definitely butcher it. The dress is certainly doing it justice, and you watch it brush against the skin of her legs as she shifts her weight to the other foot. I’ve never been that good at inferences. You’re far better than me, Prince, and she’s playing with her hair: twirling and untwirling it around her finger. That ribbon atop her head… Her stylist certainly knows their stuff.
“Think I’ll win an award this year?” Her question draws you away from your thorough examination of her. You take a moment to think, and you have to say, it depends, but I think you could definitely get something in some category. She gives you this inscrutable look, and she’s chuckling to herself as she looks at the crowd and sips on her champagne. You can guess what she’s about to say next: quite the crowd today, huh? And you’d reply, “Don’t think that they’re all here for you”, and that would prompt her to shoot back with, “Then who are they here for? You?”. 
But of course, when do things ever go according to plan?
“Have you thought about my offer?” she asks, and you’re caught off guard. 
Cause here’s the history between you two: Middle school best friends, always kind of inseparable. She was the beauty queen, it girl, and she still is; you were the writer, head of the school magazine, and you’re pretty much writing for the rest of your life. Wherever you went with her, rumours followed—Are they dating? I think they’re just friends. Maybe she’s trying to be the front of the magazine?—but you never thought much of it. It was just a simple friendship to you, nothing more. 
Then the kiss she gave you in high school changed it all.
It was a party, hosted by one of your mutual friends. She kissed you, and no, it wasn’t a Spin The Bottle forfeit, nor was it a dare of any sort; it was a sincere, tender kiss in the garden—unprompted, and away from any prying eyes and soft like silk chiffon. You have to admit, the sensation had your brain mired for a minute or so. But when you came back to your senses, you kissed her right back, and things got complicated after that. 
No one knew of it; it was your little secret. Wonyoung became closer than ever, and next thing you know, she declares the two of you “exclusive” but not dating. It’s because her agency has that funky dating ban thing, and Wonyoung was desperate to find a loophole, albeit a little complex. Of course, you’re willing to stay “exclusive” with Wonyoung in secret, but you started to worry that it can’t stay this way for long after the two of you get out of high school. 
But as fate would have it, your career paths meet at the crossroads, and now you see her every other month or so. You still text her when you can, and the “exclusive” relationship has sustained. Now that she’s an adult and she’s bringing in mad bucks for the agency, she’s informed you of some changes in her contact. From there, the offer was birthed, and you have left it unchecked for the past four months or so, “grey ticked” as she liked to call it.
“You haven’t texted in a while, thought you died,” she continues, leaning on her elbows against the table. “Thank god you’re alive, huh?”
You hoped that she’d just forget about it, but she’s more of a mnemonist than you give her credit for. An award show is the last place you expected to be caught off guard by Jang Wonyoung, but she’s definitely a master of surprise. I uh… I haven’t really thought about it, is a lie you tell her and yourself. She smiles enigmatically, downs the rest of her Champagne. 
“Let’s talk about it tonight,” she touches your chest, and it’s soft like silk chiffon, “you know where to find me, Prince.”
She struts off to join the rest of her members, stops halfway to return her Champagne flute, then looks back at you over her shoulder to give you a small wave. You sip on your Champagne as the silk brushes against her skin. 
It’s a heavy breath that leaves your mouth, and it’s the rest of the Champagne that goes in.
*
302.
Gold lettering, black plaque. It’s grand, pretty elegant. Suits her well. 
Then the door opens. 
In her bathrobe, Jang Wonyoung shoots her “you’re on camera” smile. You’re earlier than expected—she lets you in—Matter of fact, I thought you might not show at all.
And it’s a must to quip back, “thought you’d be asleep by now you big baby.”
When the door closes, it’s straight to work, and here’s how that normally goes: kissing, undressing, foreplay, then finally—fucking. Not that it has to follow that order or anything, but it’s the unspoken schedule that Wonyoung’s written up. God forbid anyone goes against what the princess is comfortable with, not that you’d ever try to either way. Your voice is barely a mumble past her lips—aren’t we supposed to talk about something?—and Wonyoung’s quick to dismiss any queries, “later. There’s always time for it later”. 
So it’s the kiss that’s pulling you back into her. Her front teeth capture your bottom lip, pull, drags it back a little like she’s trying to unwrap you like a present. You hold her waist, and with gentle hands, you push her back against the wall. It’s not that you’re trying to get control or anything; you’re just attempting to give her something to work with, a place to rest as she starts to work on the buttons of your shirt. 
“Are you already naked underneath that?” you whisper, though it’s more of a drawl than a whisper. In response, she momentarily stops with your buttons to slide a section of her bathrobe away, giving you a good look at a column of her naked, milky skin. 
In short: Yes, she is very much naked under that robe.
“Don’t get distracted, my prince. Eyes up here.”
“You’re the one that made me look, princess.”
She’s evidently struggling with the last button of your shirt, and you have to let go of her for a moment to help her get it done. Then it’s off with the shirt, and she flings it against the door for convenience sake. Your belt’s next, and that’s taken care of before you can even say, let me undress you Princess. It does make her hesitate at the clasp of your trousers for a bit. Just for a bit.
“I’d like,” her fingers are moving again, and they’re awfully quick at unfastening your pants, “for you to unwrap me on the bed instead.”
How raunchy of her. Makes you want to try her on.
Your pants fall. Your hand slithers into the bathrobe. Her jaw drops. Wonyoung my darling, and your fingers have captured one of those perky breasts, the right one to be exact. How do you ever—it’s light pressure to the nipple for you; it’s mind melting for her—get away with being such a big slut? Look at you, I’m barely even squeezing here. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes wide, mouth agape and her chin tucked into her neck. Frame it up, take a step back, admire it. It’s the face of someone who’s pent up, the expression of a needy girl who’s been aching to get some dick. Maybe if you guys had met a little sooner, she wouldn’t be this sensitive. But now? A twist of your forefinger and thumb is all it takes to draw a cry out of her, a little more pressure is enough to rain hellfire upon her. What a crazy-hot mess she is; only god knows how to clean her up and get her sorted out.
Open mouth straight to your ear, Wonyoung lets out a breathy gasp. In your fingers, the stiff peak rolls between the pads—back, forth, back, forth: motions that make her weak in her knees. It’s with great effort that she pulls your face back to hers, captures you in her quivering lips. Elegance has long been thrown out the window by now, and it’s not going to be returning for quite some time, as if you ever need it at a time like this. She’s barely holding herself up at this point. Where did the prim proper Jang Wonyoung go? 
The answer’s in her kiss—gone, dusted, she was here just a minute ago though. She’s grasping at whatever inch of your skin she can find, and her nails are definitely gonna be leaving marks on the sides of your neck. You let out a small, wry laugh as you silently observe her behaviour, watching her implore without speaking, badger without requesting. It’s an art form really, the form of expression for the horny and desperate and bratty. When her hands grip your face and her nails sink into your cheek, you pinch a little harder and relish the pleasant vibrations that are sent into your mouth as she gasps. Her palms press into your jaw, and they’d probably crush it if you press any harder. Her feet patter against the wood as she starts to direct you to the bed. You kick off your shoes together with your pants. 
It’s definitely a sight to take in: Jang Wonyoung in a massive king size bed, a thin bathrobe being the only thing between you and that wonderful body being the bathrobe. Maybe if she wasn’t in this state she’s in, she’d gesture to you with a come hither motion, and invite you to remove the fabric from her body. Instead, she opts for a spine tingling mewl, and that’s your invitation to her body. It’s hardly an insinuation; the fact that she wants to be unwrapped like a present is undeniable, she used the word unwrap herself. The bunny knot holding the two pieces of fabric is symmetrical—has Wonyoung’s fingerprints all over it. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s watching you with a half-open mouth, maybe you’d compliment her on her efforts a little, maybe even call her “princess” a couple more times before you properly ruin her.
(But she’s already ruined, ruined by a mere bit of pressure to the nipple. What else can make her tick now?)
Her body is at your mercy and it, quite literally, jerks as you start to pull at the knot, undoing it centimetre by centimetre, millimetre by millimetre, inch by inch. You want to see how long she can watch for, how long she can witness herself be undressed in a painfully slow fashion. Needy as she is, she’s patient as she watches one end of the rope grow longer. 
Longer. 
“Do you want me to speed this up, baby?” The smirk on your face would earn you a pout from her if her nerves weren’t in a bundle at the given moment.
“W-Whatever you want,” she answers, and her voice is brimming with breathy arousal. How are you getting away with all this? She’d grab your wrist and pull by now if she wasn’t so damn needy right now.
You give a dry laugh. “Then I’ll keep at this then.”
Longer.
“Fuck. Just pull it all the way already.” She looks you right in the eye as she begs you to hurry, and now you can see the need brimming in those large, round eyes, the ones that stare back at you with soft intensity, if that’s even possible. She’s good at mixing emotions into her stare.
“I thought you said—”
“Just fucking do it!”
Slack.
And the knot comes undone, and together with it, the robe falls off to the sides of her body—it’s beautiful. Never have you taken so much pleasure in undressing her, but you sure-as-hell have taken this much time to admire that wonderful, slender frame. From your standing view over her, you get down to her level to get a better look at her. It’s all part of the game of course: the way you look her in the eye, the way you touch her jaw ever so slightly to turn it towards you. The kiss is sickly sweet, and she’s starting to taste more and more like that cherry lipstick you gave her when you saw her some time ago at another event. Into your mouth, she lets out a sonorous moan. Your fingertips brush along her skin, slither down from her collarbone to her cleavage—down to that flushed pink region between her equally flushed thighs. Almost instantly, the tip of your digits are coated in slick fluids, and you raise an eyebrow at the girl on the bed.
“I literally touched you.” It’s amusement permeating your voice more than anything. In the sheets, she squirms in the slightest, eyes locked on your fingers that rest against that dripping heat and breath caught in her throat. You know that if you were to shift your finger in the slightest, you’d trigger a chain reaction that you have no power over. Her legs would clamp, her abdomen would tense, her eyes would roll. In the midst of it all, she’d maybe scream, or maybe she’d moan; either way goes. As far as you’re concerned, she’s needy as fuck at the moment, and she’s not going to let anything stop her from cumming.
“Yea, well… I can be sensitive.” Her defence is hardly a solid one, more of a perfunctory reply. Her head’s far from able to formulate a quip to throw back at you; that ability went out the window together with classy Wonyoung. “Put them in.”
You go against her request, and your fingers start to skirt the edges of that swollen, pink slit of hers. A crime—you’re going against the princess’ wishes, but realistically speaking: she can hardly be called a princess at the moment, so why comply? 
A portion of the bathrobe is still clinging on to her breast. You use your other hand to push it away, and the split second of contact makes her flinch. “Jesus. You’re so fucking turned-on right now,” you can’t help but muse, all while your fingers retrace te outline of her swollen lips. She’s shivering, she isn’t breathing quite right. “Do you want to moan, baby? Do you want to moan like a good little slut for me?”
And she fixes you with a glare. “F-Fuck you… Put them in.”
No “please” this time. Shame. If she were more polite, you would’ve obliged; now you’ll just have some more fun with her. 
Your thumb finds the swollen nub, and a little brush is all you need to get her straining like a psycho in a straitjacket. What will I ever do with you Wonyoung?—and she’s getting wetter by the second—You look so pretty when you’re so needy, you know that?—why would you ever, for a second, think that she’d be as refined as the last time? She doesn’t play with herself when she needs to get off; she waits till she sees you again to get off on your cock, your fingers, your mouth. Sexting was off the table, she wants you to be physically there, driving her insane as she lets herself come undone. 
“You know,” and you’re almost laughing as you watch her face twist even further, “that I could do this forever right? I could just lie here, tease you for as long as I want… Or maybe that’s what you want?
She’s messy, so fucking messy. Juices are starting to soak the bed—you can feel it as your fingertips round the bottom of her slit. Housekeeping would certainly question the spot, and the two of you wouldn’t be there to reply anyway. Her cheeks are flushed, the veins of her throat are popping. It takes a considerable amount of effort to stay this composed, but you know that she’s breaking more and more. With each round your fingers make, cracks start to form along that perfectly sculpted face. The fine lines on her forehead begin to show as her brows start to furrow. Strained sounds are coming from her throat as the urge to moan is slowly winning the battle against her will. She wants control, but she can’t have it when she’s a wet, hot mess next to you. She’s being bratty for the sake of it. Your fingers are your leverage against her. It’s killing her. It’s delighting you.
And just like fine China thrown against concrete, her will shatters. 
“Please! Put them in!”
And your fingers stop just at the top of her pussy. It feels like a long minute, but she isn't about to take another second of this. Her thighs clamp against your arm. Her fingers wrap around your wrist in desperation. She begs again. And again. And again. And again, again, again. The bed starts to creak as you start to move your fingers down her lips, down to the very end of her cunt.
God is she dripping.
“Will you moan for me?” you drawl huskily. A finger, two, three rest themselves against her heat. 
“Yes.” There’s barely any of her original self left in there. “Please just—”
The fingers breach her opening. She screams, a high-pitched, keening cry. The noise makes your cock strain in your boxers, and you have to grit your teeth as her inner walls wrap tightly around your intruding digits. A moment of stillness comes, a moment where she’s just breathing raggedly, struggling to process this pleasure that’s racking her body faster than she can comprehend. She’s a ticking time bomb of nerves; the slightest movement in this state could send her into perdition, and she’ll barrel past that point of no return faster than both of you can imagine. God, she’s sensitive. God, she’s a mess. 
The chuckle that departs from your mouth is one of perverse pleasure. “Baby,” you whisper, right into her ear as she struggles to catch her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut, and you watch with a grin as her chest rises and falls. The grip on your wrist is a vice, knuckle-white and unrelenting. She’s begging you, with her eyes, to start moving, and you have to tell her, “I can’t start till you let go of me, baby.”
And it’s with reluctance that she slips her hand off your wrist, but that hand won’t stay empty for long. You guide it to her own breast, and with a soft whisper, you tell her to squeeze. She’s servile. She complies without protest. Her eyes slowly open themselves, and you relish the way they’re lust-glazed appearance looks under warm light while her breaths level themselves out. For a moment, there’s calm. For a moment, it’s tender.
Then your fingers start to move. All hell breaks loose.
Everything she did to calm herself quickly becomes futile; it becomes undone as her back arches in a way that catches your breath in your throat. Your fingers graze her walls, pressed into each other as they slowly draw in and out of her. And mind you: you’re going slow, slow enough to make her feel every bit of your fingers brush against her insides. But it’s enough to make her curse, enough to get her mewling like a damn kitten while her hips start to rock, rubbing her clit against the base of your palm. There’s no way to describe how needy she looks; her want is beyond words, and you’ve barely even started. Three fingers is the most you’ve ever put inside her. Clearly, it’s working wonders for her.
And now you yourself have to admit: you’ve wanted her for some time now. Since the last time you saw her, you’ve fantasised about that slim tummy twitching, about holding that snatched waist once more, about those long legs wrapped around your neck while your tongue and fingers turn her into a pliant plaything. For weeks, you’ve wanted nothing more than pulling Jang Wonyoung apart, reduce her into a withering mess wherever you guys are and get her screaming till she’s sore. You can’t even begin to describe what you’ve done with her in your dreams, nor can you ever convey how it feels to desire her as much as you have. So, you put all of it into action, sordid sentiments channelled into your fingers that are making those cute features twist and contort in perverse pleasure. She’s rambunctious, and her juices are quite literally soaking your hand, spilling the strongest sillage of lust all over the bed. 
“Why do you always have to be so fucking messy?” You’re really just trying to see how much you can get away with at this point, though the answer seems to be: just about everything. Your fingers start moving faster. You love the way her cheeks are starting to flush even more. “Are you always this wet? Or is it just for me?”
The squelching is lewder than you can ever imagine. The sound of her slick, wet heat being breached by your fingers is enthralling. Add the sounds she’s making into that and you have the ultimate erotica audio that can bless mankind. She’s panting, she’s moaning, she’s whining—she’s doing it all really, and you’re just using your fingers. God knows how she’ll react once you’re inside of her, rock hard meat stretching her out instead of a few fingers fiddling around in warm walls. 
But hey, the sounds she’s making are ever so erotic, and she’s definitely making your blood flow to all the right places. She feels out of place; you can’t put your finger on what’s wrong in this whole thing. It’s probably a small detail, something you’d overlook over the sight of her chest heaving as air shoots out and gets sucked back into her mouth, her whole body straining and convulsing against the bed while you get a thumb on her clit and rub at a languid tempo. Probably something miniscule, not worth mentioning because all your attention is focused on the look on her face (you want to mess up the makeup so badly it’s almost frustrating). And no, you’re not trying to make her cum in five seconds; she’s just really riled up—bundle of nerves and trigger happy. Probably hasn’t been treated this way in a while, probably hasn’t had three fingers twisting around, sliding in and out of that tight wet hole slow enough to make her feel every bit of skin against her walls; fast enough to make her combust if you were to speed up, in, like, forever. 
“I–I…” She’s quite literally mewling, and the sharpness in her voice is so cutting that it makes an incision in a bag inside you that’s keeping all the perverse thoughts at bay. The thoughts are leaking out now, and it’s almost impossible to stuff them back in. You want her against the glass: tits against the window and ass in your hands while you pump and pump and pump into that slick tight hole; you want nothing more but to pick her up and have her lock her legs around you, tight frame flushed against you while you nail her against one of these walls that surround you; you want to unhinge that jaw and watch that pretty mouth—now parted to let the stream of moans flow—take your cock in and out between those kiss-swollen lips and watch the drool leak out the corners of her mouth. Shit. It’s killing you. Jang Wonyoung, dolled up. She’s killing you. 
(No way in hell are thighs meant to be this hot, and lips are not  supposed to look this delicious. Yet Jang Wonyoung somehow goes against every fucking norm, fights it naturally and effortlessly and wins like a seasoned warrior. So just for her case: her thighs can be this hot and flushed, and her lips can look this fucking appetising. You kiss her; it’s sloppy, it’s lewd, it’s hot and everything in between. Mark her neck, mark that row of skin above her right collarbone, mark her everywhere. Cusses are flying—god forbid her agency finds out about the things hse says while she’s getting fingered. She's making a mess out of herself. She’s making a mess out of you.
Fingers, just fingers and she’s already looking like this: hair fanned out, frazzled, looking like she just went through a car wash and yet somehow has her make-up intact. Fuck. You want to watch the mascara run, watch it streak while she tears up as she’s choking down cum and she’s struggling to take in air. Pretty little princess, messy and glacially being turned into some improper slut. It’s hard to not smirk while you ruin her with the same fingers you use to type articles about her—fingers that sing praises and can also make her moan enough to make her throat hoarse.)
The rhythm of your hand makes her body roll. Her toes–painted over, fresh manicure—curl into the sheets. Doe-like eyes stare back at you, plump red lips part to gasp your name, throat muscles strain trying to  curse and moan at the same time. The fingers are gliding in and out and in and out and she’s begging you to not stop (like hell you ever would) in those choke up little sobs while she’s—
Oh fuck baby I can’t I can’t I can’t — Anything. I’ll do anything. Please just let me cum. I’m so fucking close baby. Please just let me fucking cum. I’ll be a good girl. I-I promise I’ll be a good fucking girl for you just… Fuck!
—blue screening on your fingers: lost in the sauce or whatever. Pliant plaything, docile doll. You’re certain she hasn’t gotten off in at least a month if the way she’s taking it is any sort of yardstick. She’s far beyond drenched, far beyond salvation and way off the deep end of the “needy” pool—drowning herself in her own sea of sighs and gasps and moans and loose phonics that slip out of her mouth. Ostinato of your fingers squelching in her cunt; half time rhythm of the creaky bed; melody of the chorus of Jang Wonyoung’s voice—music to your ears.
And there’s lots to unpack from the moment you locate that soft spot at the top of her pussy. There’s a lot of cussing, a lot of jolting, a fair amount of whining and your name is thrown somewhere in that mix. You find her lips, she kisses back, one of her hands grabs your arm, nails dig in and stay there. Flurry of actions, filthy language—fucking hell, someone stop her.
Bottom line: lots of action. You find it congenial to start from the part where it quite literally ends her world. Once your digits curled up into that sensitive patch of flesh, it was all over for her.
You can pinpoint the exact moment where the orgasm rips through her body, the exact moment where her muscles seized so perfectly that her back arches. The pulse around your fingers is strong, walls tight around your digits and your thumb gently rubbing on her clit while the pleasure rolls through her body, molten iron libido converting the feeling between her thighs to electricity that makes her short circuit. The moan is breathy if anyone’s asking, and the look on her face—twisted, perverse satisfaction: superimposing need and want—has a whole foot over the line of pornographic. Wires are fraying in her head, her vocal cords are strained, she’s ruining the sheets with her juices; you’re complicit in every damn part of this, and guilt is the last thing on your mind.
Then her back falls back flat against the mattress, and the sheets ripple as her body makes a dense thump against the bed, punctuating the sigh she releases into the air. Nerves are unbundling themselves. She’s sweaty and panting. Your fingers are beyond soaked.
“Messy,” you muse, slowly drawing your juice slicked fingers out of her cunt. You bring them to her mouth. She languidly tastes herself, sweat-darkened sheets hugging the muscles of her shoulders and lining her ribs. She looks so tiny in the bed if you looked over the fact that her legs were dangling over the edge of the mattress, and that’s easy to do once you lean in for a kiss.
(It’s not hard to slip your tongue into her mouth, and there’s barely any fight left in her as you roll her nipple between your index finger and thumb. The sweat-matted hair sticking to her forehead adds a nice touch to her face.)
“Such a good girl.” Your tone is warm as you praise her, and a hand moves to cup her cheek in an act of tenderness. Her eyelids flutter shut. She puts the weight of her face into your palm. 
“Do I get my reward now?” she whispers, and it’s more of a plea than a question really. You take a moment, not to think, but to drag out the suspense for a little more before you give her an answer. You take guilty pleasure in knowing that you could keep her on tenterhooks for the whole night—the only thing stopping you is the throbbing of your cock in your boxers and the look of sheer need on her face. If you could: you’d drag this out a little longer, maybe tease her a little and call her more names. You still could do that, but you’d much rather fuck her instead. 
“Where do you want it?” your thumbs hook into the waistband of your boxers and hook them down. Your cock springs free from its cottons confines, and Wonyoung’s eyes instantly dart to it. She may be a little obsessed with your cock, but only a little when she’s depraved (which is right now). Before you can even react, she has your shaft in her hand, lanky fingers wrapped around it and pumping it with considerate strokes. 
“I want a big load in my ass.” she requests, far from innocent and banking more towards improper, which seems to be a pretty big theme of hers tonight. “I’ve been wanting to feel daddy’s  hot load leaking out of my ass for a long time…” The strokes delivered to your length grow firmer and firmer by the second. “Please?”
The spikes of pleasure her small hand delivers to your system is really making it hard to say no at the given moment. Of course, she’s well aware of it, and she’s definitely feeling so damn smug right now. And so with a very clouded mind, you nod. She smiles smugly, unaware that you’re about to fuck that smug little smirk rig of her pretty face. Conveniently, she’s already on her back—it’ll make the process so much easier. 
“I take it that the lube is in your bag?” You raise. She grins and nods. 
Sure enough, you find it in the exact same place as it usually is: side pocket, right next to her lipstick. You toss it towards her and move around her, slip her ankles over her shoulders. She lies still, unmoving and obedient as her left calf goes past her head, then her right. You lean forward, and she gasps as she's almost bent her completely in half. She’s flexible; this position won’t bring any harm to her, but it is congenial to ruin her asshole and leave her sore for the next day or so, which is exactly what she wants, but probably not how she imagined herself getting it. She cracks open the lube, and with precision, squirts a generous amount of it on the tight ring of her ass, making eye contact with you all the while as the clear liquid gathers at the puckered ring of muscle. The tube is discarded to a side when she’s done, and she uses her hands to spread her asscheeks for you, inviting you to take your liberties with her hole.
“Come on Daddy,” she urges you. “Come fuck this ass,” she continues, her hands spreading her ass cheeks even wider as you start to line yourself up with the tight ring. “Wreck this fucking hole Daddy, I can fucking take it.”
To hear her say those words was almost enough to have you cum right there and then. You press the tip of your cock at the open, gaping hole of her ass, swirling it around the entrance, collecting more of the copious amounts of lube around it. She was generous with the amount of lube she dispensed; you're about to be generous with the strokes you're gonna make inside that ass.
(She yelps when you slide inside her ass. God does it feel so fucking divine.)
She is so tight and wet and hot that you think you could’ve cum with your first thrust inside her. Her pussy was tight and hot, but her ass was even tighter and even hotter. Even though your cock was slick with lube, it did close to nothing to keep the sheer tightness of her asshole from clenching around you like it was a really small glove. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been inside her ass, but it sure as hell felt like a novelty every single time you entered that tight ring of muscle. Fuck. The heat, the tightness—sublime. You think you could cum in a matter of seconds if you didn’t have self control.
“Go!’ she hisses, through the pain and discomfort. “Fuck me. Fuck my ass!”
You would have been happy to stay there, buried balls deep in Wonyoung’s ass, but her own words goad you into moving—slowly at first, but with a steadily increasing pace, you begin to fuck Wonyoung’s ass with long, slow strokes. She hisses—part glee, part discomfort—as your shaft starts to pump itself in and out of her ass. You draw yourself out till only the base of you tip remains inside of her, and then you thrust back in, hard, hard enough to make her yelp out in pained pleasure while she grits her teeth and watches your rock hard shaft fill her ass. It's a perverse show for her, and it brings you a sort of dark satisfaction in knowing that past all that discomfort she’s feeling, she loves the way your cock stretches her out and fills her defenceless little hole. 
With her ankles over your shoulders, you’re practically spearing yourself vertically into her ass, fucking her deep and making her feel every inch of your throbbing meat inside of that hot, tight hole. Every penetration is punctuated by a deep, guttural groan from Wonyoung, sometimes a curse, or something along the lines of: fuck. So fucking full. You know for a fact that the pained sounds you hear now will turn into airy gaps of pleasure once she gets used to the discomfort, and that she’d probably be a mewling mess by the time you reach the stage where she can take you in and out of her ass with only pleasure in her system and no pain. For now, you’ll settle with the pace you have—slow, long strokes in and out of her ass while she squeezes her eyes to block out all sensations distracting her from enjoying the sensation of her ass being filled with cock. You have to admit that she’s doing a great job at it, and your praise vocalises itself in the rather harsh form of, “what a good little slut.” 
(And here’s something interesting you noted: never once in this whole thing did she ask you to stop, nor did you ever think about stopping to let her adjust. If this was anyone else, you would have given them a moment to breathe upon entering, and you certainly would be checking on their wellbeing throughout it all. 
Thing is—the two of you know her too well to know that you could only dream of stopping once you got started with her, and it could only end in two ways. 1) You cum in her. 2) You cum on her. Edge her and you’ll never get the end of it, you would know. The last time you pulled a stunt on her like that, she left you tied to a chair with a vibrator taped to your cock till you were begging and a cummy mess. It wasn’t pretty. She could dominate if she wanted to, but she preferred to be a manipulative brat instead.)
It’s not long before she’s desensitised to the pain, and your slow pace is not enough, no, not for Wonyoung. Next thing you know it, she hissing for you to go faster, fuck her harder—I told you to fuck my ass Daddy. Don’t hold back on me now—and deeper. She swears, all three languages that she knew strung together shabbily like they were put together on some shitty production line and thrown out at random—and while you made little sense of the sounds coming out of her filthy mouth you knew what they meant.
Harder. Faster. Rougher.
Then you fuck her ass. Hard and fast.
You almost surprised yourself with the liberties you were taking, drilling in and out of her butt with the same speed and depth that you would use with her mouth and pussy.
“Yes!” she shouts—a loud, full shout. “Yes! Fuck me like this! Pound me, fuck me until you cum in my slutty little ass!”
You grunt in reply, because it was all you could do. The faculties of human language have long since abandoned your grasp and ability, and nothing else exists in your mind except the thought of filling her tight, hothole with warm, white semen. Her eyes lock with yours and you only find that they’re full of need, nothing else (not like she’s capable of displaying any other emotion at the moment). The rest of you, every fibre of your being, was focused on pounding Wonyoung’s tight little hole as hard and fast as you possibly could. Her ankles bounce helplessly behind your head, her knees press into her shoulders and her breath is ragged; sweat drips off your forehead and onto her tits, and your hot breath mixes with hers as you struggle to keep yourself propped up with your arms.
In short: the two of you are sweaty and messy (one more so than the other. Take a pick, not sure if there’s a prize for guessing right), victims of lust and slaves to pleasure. You blame Wonyoung just because you can.
For a few delicious moments, there is absolutely nothing in the world aside from the tight hot sheath of flesh around your cock, the warm flesh of her legs against your shoulders and the strands of sweat-slick hair that fly just about everywhere, all topped with the lewd, filthy, obscene words spilling from Wonyoung’s mouth. For a few delicious moments, she feels nothing but the feeling of her tight hole being stretched and used by the cock that turns her face into a wrought outlet of pleasure while she lets filthy words and exclamations spill from her lips. 
Try as you might, you couldn’t have it last forever. Not when you were already so turned on from watching her writhe and twitch under your fingers. Not when the sheer, pure pleasure overwhelming you was more than enough to cause you to cum at any moment.
And when she orgasms for the second time, her ass tightening exponentially around you—there is little you or anyone else could have done to stop the inevitable.
“I’m gonna cum in your ass, Wonyoung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, your lust and pleasure-addled brain on the edge of losing all comprehension.
“Cum with me! Fill me!” 
And so you do it, burying yourself hilt deep inside the quivering woman’s asshole before filling it with the last of your cum, giving her every last drop you had left in your body, leaving rope after rope inside her sore, well-used, cum-filled asshole. You almost black out, and you quite literally have to dig your nails into the sheets while Wonyoung’s own orgasm takes over her body, making her twitch and her ass contract—milking every last bit of cum from your throbbing, twitching length till it was nothing but a dry, hard rod inside of her creamy asshole. 
There’s silence that is punctuated by both of your ragged breaths. She looks at you, you look at her. And the two of you can’t help but chuckle at the mess you’ve made of each other. You want to remember the way her nose wrinkles as she teases you, “you fucking animal”, and you want, so badly, to burn the image of a sweaty, weary Jang Wonyoung, folded in half beneath you like she was a piece of origami paper, panting and gasping as a fresh load of cum spills out of her ass. 
It takes energy, but you bend down and kiss her, letting her sweaty calves slide off your equally sweaty shoulders as you do. She’s satisfied, for now, and she pulls you down next to her on the hotel bed with one hand and gathers the cum leaking out of her ass with the other. 
“Look at this,” she whispers, and your eyes train themselves on the pearlescent, sticky, slimy, fluids that run down from her fingertips slowly. “You made such a big mess inside my ass,” she chides before bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking your cum right off her fingers like it’s a delicacy. “Now I have to clean all of this up. You’re lucky I like the way your cum tastes.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Um… Ew?”
Wonyoung smirks and gently nudges you with her left foot.
“It’s okay,” she tells you, all smug and everything. “I know you love the way I taste too.”
* In the dark, her small hand creeps around your torso and grasps yours. 
“You’re awake, aren’t you?” She’s whispering right into your ear, and it’s a sensation you want to be able to hold on to for the rest of your life. “I know your eyes are open.” The feel of her small fingers rolling the knuckle of your index finger sticks itself in your head like a post-it. “ I can hear and feel you tossing, you know?”
Okay. No dodging. 
The sheets stay still as your shoulders turn. You roll over, face her, and you really just want to capture the way the night lights paint her face: doe-like eyes reflecting glimmering pools of moonlight, warm yellow light painting her cute-yet-so-fucking-gorgeous face in a manner that not even Van Goh could copy, lips parted slightly as if in mid speak. She’s right there—you can kiss her if you really want to.
“Are you still mad at me?” She asks, tender with her tone. “I know that I fucked up, okay?” You can tell that she’s not even trying to look pitiful at the moment, but the way her face is sculpted really makes you want to just hold her to your chest and stroke her hair. Sincere are her words—heart heaved into her mouth. “I don’t blame you if you’re still mad. It’s your right. But… Just hear me out? Please?”
If you were mad, you wouldn’t have let her hold your hand the way she was now. If you were mad, you would’ve pretended to be fast asleep; ignore her pleas and just close your eyes and fall asleep. Alas, you can never stay mad at her for too long.
“I was… Never really angry, Wony.” Your tone is a lot softer than you would ever expect, but you know it’s because you probably needed this talk more than she did. “I... I’m sorry if it came across that way.”
And she studies you for a moment, lets the sound of your breathing fill the space as she furls her upper lip into her front teeth, and it’s a perfect moment for you to try and understand what’s happening in her head. She’s a complex creature really; understanding her is like finding a meaning that everyone can agree on when you look at abstract art.
Down below, you can still hear the cars moving through the street. Billboards and screens are still on, and from the window in your bedroom, multi-coloured lights filter into the room past the blinds like moonlight through bamboo leaves. The sheets you lie in are fresh, and they feel nice and smooth against your skin, and they smell like roses. The mattress creaks a little as Wonyoung shifts her weight, and you have to admit that you’re half-drunk on the scent of her shampoo. 
“You must have been scared,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I got really emotional. I… I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry.”
You didn’t know how to reply to that. Not now at least. Maybe it’ll come to you the next morning.
You give her a sweet smile. You hug her to your chest. You want to remember how she feels in your arms.
*
The gentle trickle of water down the arch of her spine is really something—a steady stream flowing down her back, running over the muscles of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts and fraying at her plump ass. You can’t remember the last time you showered with her, but you certainly remember the view being this good. 
In the shower of room 302, Jang Wonyoung lets the warm water hit her skin from the rain shower nozzle. Her hair—wet and freshly shampooed (and conditioned)—sticks to her back. Creamy skin glistens, small beads of water affix themselves to random parts of her body, stay there for one or two seconds, then roll down in streaks, almost as if they too were admiring Wonyoung’s well-sculpted figure.
Slim fingers grasp locks of hair. She lifts and looks over her shoulder, the whisper of a grin on her face as she shoots a beckoning wink. “Are you gonna help me soap my back? Or are you just gonna keep staring at my ass?”
“Don’t you have to, like, turn off the water first?” you ask, and you already know what she’s gonna say, but you just want to hear her say it. For memory sake.
“Mmmm.” Her humming as she ‘ponders’ reverberates in the shower, floating over the sound of water from the shower head falling to the floor like rain. “No… Adds to the atmosphere, don’t you think?” 
Ah. There we go.
“Then could you at least step back?” you request. This shower is comically huge—long length, breadth about the same length as your arm span. In the space, she looks so tiny, but you know for a fact that she could probably walk to the other end of the shower in a stride. You’re not one to disregard the facts, but you do like to live with a bit of imagination.
Wonyoung chuckles, low and sonorous. She pushes her hair over her shoulder, then—painfully slowly—walks back till she’s out of the stream of water. Water wastage is the last thing on her mind. She stops when she feels your hands on her back, and she looks over her shoulder, expectant. You move your hands and the soap lathers as it’s spread. You start from the centre of her back, rubbing gently in the section where the muscles of her shoulders meet and working your way outwards and upward to her shoulders. Then it’s down from there, your palms moving in small circles and covering every inch of skin.
“You’re good at this,” she mutters, watching with intent as your hands start to trail to her lower back. “Maybe you should’ve been a masseuse instead of a writer.”
“Uh… Patronising much?” You chuckle, watching as her back muscles twitch a little when you apply gentle pressure. “The pay’s about the same,” the soap makes patterns across the area above her ass—spirals of foam that stick to her skin like styrofoam flowers. “The hours are probably the same… But I don’t think I can live on rubbing someone’s back really hard. I Think I’ll just save this service for you, but only for when we meet.”
Humored, Wonyoung offers a giggle, high pitched and cutting above the sound of water striking the floor tiles. She shifts her weight to her right foot, making her body slant a little. Her skin is soft under your palms. Your hands are going lower and lower, slowly spiralling towards the curve of her ass that’s literally just a centimetre away.
“You know…If you take up my offer, you can do this for me everyday.”
Your hands slow to a stop. You raise your head a little to find her searching for your gaze over her shoulder. “Oh?”
“Yea.” Her voice is low, like a mother trying to persuade her child to eat their vegetables. “Every night, we can be like this: you soaping my back, us chatting… Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”
Your lip furls behind your front teeth. “Yea… It really does.”
And in her gaze, you sense her sensing your apprehension. “What’s stopping you from taking it up then?”
(For context, here’s the deal proposed by her company: the two of you go public with the relationship, get clout for the company, and Starship will let you lead your lives together—no qualms, no disturbances. She can visit you whenever, live with you, appear outside together with you like it’s a regular Tuesday night; you get to date the girl you fell in love with all those years ago for real. Only issue: once you get the last stroke of your signature out on the contract, you practically agree to blurring the line between your private and public life. Press will be all over you like ants after you step on their nest, you probably won’t get to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace, everyone will suddenly want to curry favours with you… Was it worth the sacrifice?)
You find it hard to meet her eyes, and so your gaze affixes itself on your hands. It’s not like you don’t love her or anything, but your apprehension makes you feel like shit. It shouldn’t be this hard to say yes, yet the idea of selling your life of privacy to live a life with her makes you screech to a halt at the crossroads. Sometimes (in these moments), you wished that you didn’t always make decisions with your head and your heart. 
As the shower continues to run, Wonyoung slowly turns around. One hand finds yours, the other gently takes you by the chin and raises your eyes up to her. She’s tall, and the two of you are staring eye to eye; same height, different trains of thought.
The hand on yours guides you to her breast. Eyes locked with yours, she lays your palm flat against her tit. The skin beneath your fingers is slippery, but it doesn’t remove any of the familiarity from the sensation. Then she squeezes, and the flesh spills out between your fingers like putty. She gasps—airy. 
“Don’t you want me?” She whispers, and it’s raunchy more than anything. It isn’t aggressive, but it’s certainly blurring the line between demanding and caring. “Don’t you want to be able to fuck this pretty little pussy every night?”
She’s really far from home base. “Wony…”
“Don’t you love owning me?” She’s squeezing harder. Her knee twitches. Sopa’s spilling out of your fingers. You’re certain that you’re gonna mark her. She doesn’t care. “Don’t you want me all over you? Every night?”
“It’s not that Wonyoung.”
“Then what’s on your mind?” She’s not prodding for an answer, nor is she trying to demand a reason for your silence. She wants to understand you, to internalise what’s going on inside your head. You have no reason to lie.
“Will it all really be okay?” you ask sincerely. “My family, my life… Will… Will it all really be…”
She understands where you’re coming from (if the relieving of pressure around her own breast is any indication), and she’s starting to tune herself to the frequency of your worries. “If you’re wondering if you’re gonna be harassed—you won’t.”
“Yea but—”
“I promise you: I will do everything I can to make sure that you will be safe. You and your family–if so much as a finger is laid on any of you, I will quit.”
“Wonyo—”
“No one will intrude on you. You won’t have to live with the flashing lights. I give you my word: I will make sure that everyone who wants to invade your privacy will leave you alone. You and your family will all be left alone.”
If it’s possible for sincerity to ring clear, Jang Wonyoung has absolutely made it happen. Sweet like honey; she’s left you feeling like you had a spoonful of it. And just for good measure, she steps closer and repeats once more: “I promise.”
Considering that your hand was at the left side of her chest, this was really a “I swear. Hand to my heart” type of deal (whether it’s intended or not is purely up to your discretion). 
And as you gaze into those eyes, you want to remember the way she gazes at you softly, gently, tenderly. If it weren’t for your hand on her tit, you would’ve considered this one of the more tender moments you’ve shared with her. Not that it’s not or anything… Just that it’s a little hard to call this a loving moment when you can literally feel her nipple poking into the flesh of your palm at all times of the conversation.
“Are you sure you won’t land yourself in trouble?” you ask her, and she’s quick to scoff.
“Of course. I make too much fucking money fo those higher up fuckers to not listen to me,” she reminds you. 
Well… Then that settles about everything then.
“Okay,” you tell her. “Okay… I’ll do it.”
The corners of her lips play up in a smile. She leans in, kisses you—no tongue, closed mouth—and lets the hand keeping yours at her breast fall. Long arms wrap around your waist and she pulls you close, flushing her tight frame against your body. When lips part, she whispers a soft I love you, a sparkle in eyes that lingered for a moment.
But only for a moment.
Then—without you noticing—her hand snakes down and grips your rapidly hardening shaft, and she squeezes. This time, the line between demanding and caring is clear as day, and she’s chosen to play her ball to the court of demanding. With a gleam in her eye, she begins stroking with her closed fist, and she pumps your stiff length at a slow but steady rhythm, adding an occasional twisting motion to her wrist, corkscrewing her fingers around your cock, increasing the pleasurable shocks she was sending through your system with each pump of her hand. It was almost like she wasn’t the sweetest, loving girl in the whole world just two seconds ago.
“Jesus fucking…” You can’t even finish your sentence. Your teeth grit. Your fists clench. It’s hard to breathe. “Maybe… A little bit of a heads up next time?”
She smirks proudly, watching as you tilt your head back and let out a groan. “Where’s the fun in that?” And gently, she pushes against your chest, guides you to the wall. When your back presses against the cool tile, she presses herself against you. She leans in, hot breath on your skin, and then the feeling of her lips against your jaw almost makes you yelp. She kisses a path down your jaw, paves a way towards your neck to get cheeky: sucking, nibbling, licking the skin of your neck while she keeps the movement of her hands slow and considerate. The shower continues to run.
Do you know—she breaks contact with your skin for just a second—how fucking horny—her breath’s tickling your ear, sending shivers down your spine—you make me?—and she squeezes a little harder around your shaft, not enough for it to hurt, but enough to feel you throb in your hand and make you gulp a little. She starts going faster—jerking, fucking pumping your length in her closed fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your eyes open; your eyelids flutter shut. Your head rests against the wall, a sigh slipping past your lips. It’s filthy really—down from the way she catches you off guard to the way she makes your skin sore after she’s done feasting. Almost every interaction with her in a private space is as X-rated as this; it’s hard not to get into a situation like this around her. You know: a situation where the two of you are naked and getting really touchy and actively trying to get each other as many times as humanly possible. 
“Fuck yes baby…” you rasp, your nails starting to eat into your palms as she the sound of her hand sliding up and down your dick starts to cut above the steady stream of water. With each rise of her hand, the pad of her thumb plays with the head of your member, and when it sinks down, she twists her wrist in a screwing motion. Rinse and repeat; up and down and up and down and fuck. “You’re so fucking good at this.”
She hums in reply, and she has your earlobe between her teeth the next second, nicking you mischievously, sending small pricks of pain shooting through your system as she adjusts her grip on your cock without ever breaking her motion. Next thing you know, your tongue is inside your ear, and she’s leaning in so close that when you open your eyes, you’re practically looking over her shoulder, looking down the curve of her back that glistens with moisture and soap bubbles.
“I love this cock so fucking much,” she whispers, a bit of a hiss in her words as she takes the head of your cock between her forefinger and thumb and pinches lightly. “It stretches me out when I need it.” her fingers start to trail down your slipper shaft, letting the smoothness of her palm rub against your whole length, “fills me when I want it.” She’s milking the precum out of you, making you all leaky and squirmy as she starts pumping faster. “And it’s so fucking big that I can choke on it. You know how much I love being choked.”
She chooses that last bit to make eye contact with you, and she’s practically served you what she wants next on a silver platter. The next move is clear cut and simple; no words need be spoken. You were going to fuck her—and you mean properly fuck her—with a hand wrapped around that small throat. How you were gonna do it was still a mystery, but you figured that it’d slowly come to you, but it will definitely be related to the mirror and the sink outside and the mirror in front of it. At once, you reach over to the handle of the shower, and you turn it down to the handheld showerhead mode. Wonyoung bites her bottom lip, perverse glee painted all over her face as you use it to wash the soap off her back. She’s watching, waiting, probably drenched down there and aching to be stuffed full of cock.
She’s almost shaking with excitement as you finish washing all the soap off her body. You’d hardly consider her clean, but it won’t hurt to hop back into the shower again once you're done with her. The shower door swings open and you’re cupping her pussy, dripping wet while stumbling out with her, lips locked on hers and her hand on your cock as you push her against the sink of her hotel room. From the moment her mouth opens and let the moans pour out while you rub her clit to the moment her hand leaves your cock to cradle your face, she’s practically radiating need from the pores of her skin. You can’t help but playfully remark, “you’re such a fucking loser”, while your thumb thumps against her clit and sends pleasure tearing through her system. Weak in the knees, she holds on to you for support.
And the moans (those fucking hair-raising moans), they tumble out of those plump lips like marbles down a ramp, and they mix with the sound of your lips smacking against her skin as you start to leave a trail of kisses down her neck, doing to her what she did to you in the shower; you give her a taste of her own medicine, and the way she’s titling her head back to let you mark her freely makes it almost seem as if it’s the intended outcome of her actions. It’s like she knew that you would get back at her, and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if you ever find out that she gets off on knowing that she can manipulate you in her own bratty ways—get you wrapped around her finger and have you doing all the things she wants you to do without having to tell you. Not that you have something to gripe about it, but you’re just so amused (and that’s just one word to describe how you feel) by how she goes about her ways.
“Come on,” she manages to whisper, all while you’re busy sucking on the skin just below her collarbone till it’s sore. She has a lot of pride in her voice for someone who’s quite literally quivering. “You know you want to fuck me. Give me a good creampie again.” 
You lift your head for a moment, and you take in the look of almost childlike excitement on her face as your hand finds its way to her throat. It’s perverse excitement, that lewd exhilaration of knowing that she was about to get what she wanted, and albeit a little messed up, it was pretty hot in its own way. When your fingers gently wrap themselves around her throat, you can feel every muscle in her body tense in anticipation, as if she didn’t get enough from the bedroom earlier.
“Up on the counter baby. Let me see how messy you are down there,” you whisper.
She knows what to do, and she has herself propped up on the counter and engaged in open mouth kissing. She doesn’t need you to tell her to spread her legs, and she definitely doesn’t need you to tell her how cute she sounds when your fingers slip inside of her, feeling around the mess you’ve made of her and coating your digits in her fluids. Your index and middle finger are slick with her juices when you retract them from inside her, and you can’t help but chuckle. 
“Messy as ever,” you muse, making a show of sucking her juices clean off your fingers. She’s sweet and borderline tangy—a taste that you’re accustomed to, and you will never get tired of it. She’s biting down on her lower lip, the skin wrinkling under the pressure of her front teeth as she makes a sound that’s close to a purr. 
“You made the mess.” She has her eyes locked on yours as you raise an eyebrow, prompting her to follow up after her first statement. Not that you didn’t know what was coming, but more that you wanted to gently coax it out of her, because it was so fucking hot to hear what she had to say next. “You clean it up.”
And you’re more than happy to oblige. She watches you with intent eyes as you sink down to your knees, waits with bated breath as you lower your face till the glistening, pink folds of her pussy are right in front of your face, flushed thighs around your ears. Her excitement is almost palpable, and you can hear the sharp inhale she takes when your palm finds its place on the inside of her left thigh, pushing gently to give you better access to her heat (you’re really just trying to drag out the tension if you were being completely honest with yourself). You lick your lips, lean forward till your mouth is hovering above her slit. 
“You better moan for me this time,” you tell her, and you’re making sure to make your breath hit her slick as you speak. “You have such a wonderful voice. Put it to use.”
Praise mixed with the slight hint of authority—it’s enough to make her nod furiously and implore you with doe eyes to just get on with it. With a smirk, your lips find the swollen nub at the top of her entrance. You suck on it. Hard. And almost at once, her thighs clamp around your ears and her hand is on your head, like it’s some sort of natural instinct for her when you’re eating her out. Keeping to her word, she cries out—keening, whiny and ever so fucking bratty, and it’s the the holy grail of every wet dream. Nothing in the world could bring you more satisfaction than that shrill, airy cry she lets out when the pleasure ripples through her body, and you’re just getting started. 
Your mouth opens and your tongue flattens itself against her folds, (She tastes so good. You want all of it, all of her) and you drag it up her folds, deliberately, painfully slow as you start to lick up that wet cunt. Her back arches; you can feel her struggling to keep a hold of your head; she throws her head back and lets out a gasp; her thighs clamp down a little harder around your head. The pleasure in her system builds up with the slow movement of your tongue, only rising and rising as you lick from the base of her slit to the mid section to the top. When the tip of your tongue flicks her clit, it's almost like an explosion, enough for her other hand to join its pair atop your head, enough to make her cry out in a perverse plea, “Daddy, please!”
(For the record: she’s wanted this from the moment you guys stepped into the shower. She’s willingly turned herself into some pliant little plaything, and she’s probably getting off so hard to it. Frankly, if she wanted to order you around, you’d be up to it, but this is what she prefers.)
And nothing else needs to be said really. You put your whole mouth on her—relishing the shiver that runs up from her thighs up to her body—and get right into making a wreck of her. You lick, you devour, you ravish her: working your mouth on her pussy, lapping up the juices that spill forth from flushed lips with broad, sharp strokes that make her body grow taut and her legs quiver. You tongue her clit, lick up sweet fluids, make her messy and needy and hot in all the right areas till she’s drilling her nails into the back of your scalp and pushing your face against her sweet slick. In half whispers, she tells you just how good you make her feel—oh Daddy I’m so fucking wet!—and you feel a dark part of yourself be fed by these lecherous words—Oh god oh fuck I’m gonna fucking cum if you keep… Fuck!—that leave her half-parted mouth and linger in the air, reminding you of just how wanton she is and how you’re the only person in the world she ever wants to fuck and be satisfied by. You’re hers; she’s yours—a relationship with Jang Wonyoung that any guy would kill for. 
“Daddy—” she gaps, her voice a whole octave higher than it should be as her nails turn into claws at the back of your head. “Fuck I’m cumming. Daddy I’m cumming!”
The pulsing of her pusy against your tongue grows. You continue licking, lapping. One stroke, two strokes—three. She moans, blue screens. You hazard a look up.
Nothing else matters. Only: the sight of that back arching off the marble counter, her thighs around your head trembling and quaking as her hips roll and her mouth parts in a silent scream. You’re certain that there’s blood being drawn from the back of your head, but you're more certain that she’s got enough heat in her core to melt molten iron but a lack of breath that makes her gasp for air as you lick and lick and lick your way into her. You can feel her orgasm getting closer by the second, it’s in her breathing, and in the way her hips are practically thrusting her into your mouth.
And just like the bathrobe from earlier, she comes undone—falls apart and ceases to keep control of her body. She tenses, her thighs go rigid around your ears. Her breath is caught in her throat, her eyes are closed. You stop your work, admire the way she glows as her body twitches and her face twists. Pleasure rips its way through her muscles, her nerves—splits her very being in half as the orgasm rolls through her system. She’s beautiful, and she’s a messy work of art that you’ve created. 
You rise to your feet as she winds down, and her hands leave your head to rest on the counter while her body struggles to process the aftermath of that orgasm. It’s not the first time she’s cum for the night, and it certainly won’t be the last. Her eyes open, and she instantly locs them on you as you brush back some of the hair that sticks to her sweat slicked face. You take her hand and give a gentle tug, and she slips off the counter obediently. You grip her jaw—tenderly but rough enough for her to like it—and tell her to turn around. Servile, she obeys, and in the reflection of the mirror, she watches as your hand snakes its way to her throat and grips it. You’re not squeezing, not yet. 
“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy now,” you drawl, gripping your shaft in your hand and slapping it against her slit. The contact makes her shudder, but she remains silent as you place a kiss on her cheek. “Your face is gonna be so pretty when I choke you and fill you.”
“Yes Daddy.” Her reply is a whisper, a borderline drawl that’s airy and raunchy and makes your hairs stand on their ends. She’s looking at you through the mirror, plump lips slightly parted and eyes glassy. “Own me. I’m yours, forever.”
And you’re all too happy to hear that from her.
You slip into her, hilt yourself inside her in one swift motion. 
(Tight. Hot. Wet. So tight.)
She lets out a sigh, low and sonorous, harmonising with your own groan as you press her against the edge of the counter and make the fingers around her throat squeeze. The sound that leaves her throat is the sound of her sigh being truncated, and it delights that dark part of you. Being inside Wonyoung was otherworldly, as it always was, but here, in the bathroom of her hotel, on the night where you’ve agreed to seal a deal with her, she felt downright heavenly.  She squeezes her walls around you, her body thankful for the sensation of being filled by cock, if the intense tightness and slick wetness were any indication; she looks over her shoulder and bites her bottom lip. And when she has your gaze, she mouths something. 
Fill me.
The silence is deafening, but it’s all you need to hear. 
When you withdraw your glistening shaft for the first time you relish in the feel of her walls gripping you, not wanting to release you—but just as quickly they welcome you back inside as you penetrate her again. Soon you are pumping in and out of her at a slow, steady pace, her soft gasps turning quickly into long, drawn out moans as she is fucked against the marble. Her hands steady her body against the counter, her back arched in a way that lets you get a wonderful top-down view of her breasts as they roll together with her body. It’s a concerted effort, but she makes it seem effortless. 
“Be honest.” With the hand around her throat, her voice sounds a little hoarse. It’s hot. “Do you think about this, Daddy? About fucking me like a good little slut?”
“Wonyoung,” you reply, speaking through your gritted teeth. “You have no,” and you punctuate the sentence there with a deeper thrust into her tight slick, a thrust strong enough for her to let out a strained gasp. “fucking idea…”
(In the mirror, you watch as she curls her lips into her mouth and tilts her head back into your shoulder, like she’s submitting her whole being to you and letting you take liberties with her body. You take the invitation, and your free hand finds itself on one of her soft mounds and gives it a squeeze—rough but tender enough to elicit a low moan from her throat that makes your hand around it vibrate pleasantly. 
At the given moment, she’s doing all she can to make herself a pretty little fuckdoll for you, doing her best to encourage you to treat her rough, treat her like you own her. She wants nothing more but to feel the rockhard meat penetrating her tight little cunt stretch her out and fill her the way she wants, all while she’s begging and pleading obsequiously while being obsessed with your cock. It’s a lot to take in for her for sure, but she gets off on it, and you get off on it too—the fact that she’s being all needy and pleading just so she can implicitly tell you to fuck her till she’s raw and can’t fucking walk the next morning. The fact that she’s actually in control while being such a bottom. Bratty manipulation.)
“Then fuck me Daddy,” she tells you, almost pleading. “Use this pretty little pussy. I want it. I fucking need it.”
With her invitation to do more with her body, you’re more than ready to do what you’ve intended to do from the very start. You increase your tempo, and before long you are truly fucking her, drilling in and out of the tight hot warmth of her body with quick, deep strokes. With each stroke you don’t pull out more than halfway—you concentrate instead on pumping hard and fast, getting as deep as you could inside her given your standing position. She takes it well, like she was made for this. In her world, this was what fucking looked like, and it was the only definition that she was going to live with and she’d take it to the grave. She indulges in the roughness, the almost animal-like way your cock fills her again and again and again, all while she encourages you with cries and moans and sighs that are music to your ears. 
And a notion hits you: she’s going to make you fuck her till she’s the only thing you can possibly think about. She’s going to draw out every single primal urge within you, make you want her like she’s some form of drug and you’re the abuser, and then she’s going to get exactly what she wants—your cum in her pussy. You can’t let her win like that, you can’t. You can tell that to yourself now, but you’re not sure if you can remember it later, not when she practically reeks of the strongest possible sillage of sex. 
Her pussy throbs around you, pulse strong and just a beat behind your thrusts as you thrust yourself in and out of her slick walls, filling her up and drawing yourself out before filling her up yet again. Pure filth spills from her mouth, expletives, sordid sighs and cries and any sound or word that comes to mind. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and from the mirror you enjoy the way she’s almost writhing in against the counter. Ample breasts bounce with each thrust that shocks her body, and it’s almost hypnotic if it weren’t for the fact that that pretty face was stealing the show. The face that was marvelled, the face that was the source of jealousy, the face that was on the face of so many magazines and posters and adored by millions, if not billions—scrunched up, improper and so fucking lewd that it looked like it belonged in a porno instead of an idols face, and you take pleasure in the fact that your cock is ruining the face of a princess, turning her dissolute and so fucking needy that she was as good as a fan begging her for an autograph. This side of her was reserved for you, and only you—her duality is reserved for your eyes only. 
Her body is slick with sweat, rubbing against your own sweaty torso while her body rolls together with your thrusts. “Fuck—” you’re saying, but it comes out as more of a growl than anything given how hard yur teeth are clenching. Your fingers squeeze tighter around her throat. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her pussy to clench even tighter around you—and the added tightness brings succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you’re going insane. You probably are at this rate. “This pussy. It’s so fucking good baby.”
Her reply is a strained gasp, but you get the gist of what she wants to say. She wants, so badly, to tell you how good your cock is making her feel, how well it fucks her, how well it fills her and stretches her and how it’s her favourite thing in the whole world. The squelch of your cock filling her pussy is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the smacking of skin against skin as you press more of your weight against her, pushing her a little more into the corner of the counter and a little more over the line of pathetic. She moans in response to your actions, and it’s telling you: fuck. Harder. It’s better when it hurts. 
And you can feel her juices leaking down the back of her thighs, wetting your crotch and making the smack of skin against skin louder than ever, almost as if it was an announcement: I’m being fucked like a good little slut and I love it. She doesn’t know what she’s doing to you,and for clarity, it’s something along the lines of turning you absolutely feral with her moans and the divine tightness of her pussy that makes you want to cum on the spot. Okay,maybe she is cognizant of how crazy she makes you when you fuck her, but you barely have the capacity to think, let alone rationalise wether thai girl in your arms that your chocking and fucking feel smug in knowing that she’s driving you insane. 
Oh and she loves it when you play with her tits. The way you fondle them is almost aggressive. Scratch that—it’s really fucking aggressive. You’re slapping her tits, leaving red marks all over the milky white skin and pinching and twisting the stiff nubs atop her breasts, all while she mewls and cries out in that strained voice that makes you throb even harder inside of her wet walls and makes you grit your teeth like your a dog waiting to chew on a bone. 
“D-Daddy,” she pushes out, past the fingers that close her airways and past her groans and moans and sighs. “Harder.” And your thrusts are starting to cut her off, but she has more to say. When it comes out, each word that she spits out is punctuated by a thrust of cock into her pussy, and it’s the hottest thing you’ll ever hear. 
Fuck.
You thrust deep inside her. 
Me.
Your cock drives itself deep into her, slicking itself with her juices.
Harder.
And if words could linger in the air, hers certainly would. 
You fuck her hard, and fast, and deep—hammering her into the counter, nailing her defenseless pussy with a pace that you would have thought was rough and callous were it not for the fact you knew this was exactly how she wanted it. All she can do is hang on, grasp onto the counter with a knuckle-white grip with her hands as you take your liberties with her body, fucking her as hard as you can, as deeply as she can take it. The cups on the counter shake, the toothbrush inside one of them shaking under the force. It’s loud,  but you hear none of it. You hear only the sharp sighs of pleasure that leave Wonyoung’s lips, and the wet slap slap slap of your crotch as it hammers her cunt again and again and again, your cock drilling her, pounding her, making her yours if you weren’t already doing that.
It takes a little long, but the haze of lust parts for a moment for you to realise that you're getting closer and closer to getting what she wants out of you. While the thought of burying yourself inside of that quivering, pulsing pussy to let it milk every last drop of cum from you is ever so enticing, that small part of you that wants to own her pushes you to fight against the urges. Not that there’s any harm in giving her what she wants, but it’s just that you don’t want to reward her bratty, manipulative tactics. She knew for a fact that she could tie you up and ride you over and over till you were dry—she’d done it before. But instead, she’s chosen to fulfil her needs in a less direct manner, maybe for fun or maybe just because she felt like it. 
“Yes,” Wonyoung hisses, spit flying into the mirror and her palms slipping on the counter. “Just like this Daddy.” And she’s making sure to make eye contact with you through the mirror, letting her eyes do most of the talking. If anyone’s curious, the look she gives you is saying, I’m your good little slut. Fuck me. Use me. Fill me. Please, and it's nothing short of hot and tethering far over the line of lewd. At this point, neither of you are in a state where you're capable of coherent thought, nor are you capable of thinking about anything else except each other’s bodies and the wet, lewd squelching of cock filling Wonyoung’s pussy. It goes on and on and on, a cycle of your hips hammering the back of her legs and your cock spearing deep into her cunt.  She takes it so well, drinking you in hungrily, coiling around your shaft like a snake as if it was begging for you to stay in her forever. The sight is enough to make your balls tingle and your toes curl, and your hand around Wonyoung's throat tightens to the point where the only thing that can leave her lips is a groan as her airflow is reduced. 
She’s tighter, hotter, wetter. Her pussy fits you like a glove, moulding around your cock as it pumps in and out of her at a pace that you had no idea you were capable of. The hand around her neck is nothing but an outlet of pleasure for you, and she’s loving it. “Such a good girl,” you mutter, watching from the mirror as her mouth slacks and opens while she’s being pumped full of cock. “You were made to take Daddy’s cock, weren’t you?”
Her equivalent of a yes is a sharp, strained groan—an amalgamation of phonics and whatever sounds the lack of air flowing to her throat permits her to make. She’s so fucking messy down there, and your cock is sliding in and out of her with ease, aided by her slick juices that coat your shaft and let it disappear and reappear from between her legs with ease. The motion is almost graceful if it weren’t for the fact that it was a sordid one, and you take a moment to admire the way your shaft glistens in the light of the bathroom while you fuck her the way she wants it: rough, hard and tethering over the edge of callous. If it weren’t for the hand around her throat, she’d be making herself hoarse with all the moaning she’d be doing.
And the hand around her throat is bringing her so much pleasure, if the way her pussy squeezes around you when you choke her is any indication. She wasn’t lying when she said she liked being choked. While she didn’t like gagging on your cock, she sure as hell loved it when your fingers clasped around the muscles and made her gasp. She liked the sensation of being deprived of air, be it when she was riding or when she has her kness buried into her shoulders and was being fucked into the bed like a slut. You were always afraid of hurting her, but when she shots you that look, the one that says, come on, you can do better, you know that she’s getting exactly what she wants, just the way she likes it. It was just a matter of how hard you squeeze around her throat before she either cums or passes out, though the latter has rarely happened before the former.
“Daddy!” she chokes, and you know exactly what she’s about to say next. So you release her throat from her grasp, bunch a lock of her hair in your closed fist and you pull back. Her eyes squeeze themselves shut. Her back arches deliciously, her voice now free to finish shat she’s aching to announce. “I’m fucking…”
You never expect her to finish her sentence. Wonyoung’s eyes open, and a gasp leaves her open lips. Her walls, already vice-like, tighten so hard around you that you think you might come there and then. You feel how close she is. 
“Fucking cum for me, Wonyoung. Cum around my cock like a good little slut.”
Wonyoung does as she is told—and the quivering, trembling orgasm she experiences is almost frightening in the way it overwhelms her body, turning her into a wet, hot mess. Her pussy tightens and pulsates, her fingers claw against the marble counter, and her entire lower body shakes violently, as though she had lost control of her nerves and muscles. For a few beautiful seconds she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your grasp, breathing heavily. 
It's good. It's so good, but it's not quite enough to get you to your finish. Not yet.
(And if anyone’s asking: it’s not that the sex isn’t good. It’s mind blowing, amazing, and whatever word that can be used to describe “fucking incredible”.  She’s hot, so tight and fucking soaked down there. You’re horny, throbbing and on the verge of filling her full of your seed. But you’ve said it before and you’ll say it again—you’re not rewarding bratty manipulation. As tempting as it would have been to simply pound her from behind until you gave her needy pussy the load of semen she so desperately wanted, you knew that there was something even better that you could do.)
You pull out of Wonyoung, your shaft glistening under the hotel light. Her eyes are wide with shock as you withdraw yourself from her body, pulling her away from the counter—but only enough to have her lean back against you and not stand up completely. Her mouth opens to say something, but she's interrupted when you turn her face to you and kiss her. She moans into your mouth, and you swallow it, your tongue slipping into her mouth and massaging her own, lapping at the roof of her mouth as her tongue swirled around your own. You bite her lower lip, and it's not rough, but enough to get her attention. When her eyes flutter open, you whisper, "I'm not finished."
She nods, and you relish the disappointment in her eyes. You turn her around, push down gently on her shoulders. She goes with the motion, and you're not sure if you can ever get over the image of Wonyoung on her knees with her pretty little face staring at you with anticipation. You think about fucking her face, letting your cock thrust into the back of her throat over and over and over till you finally bury yourself inside and cum down her throat, but that would just be a repeat telecast of every other night with her. Spice things up; give her the liberty of creativity with your cock. 
And of course, Wonyoung perfectly understands what has to be done. You step up to her. She parts her lips and takes your cock right into her mouth. Grasping the base of your cock and pumping it with one hand while she gently cups and squeezes your balls with the other, Wonyoung quickly launches into a hard and fast blowjob, taking the top half of your cock in and out of her wet mouth with a rapid pace while her fingers work your shaft in a corkscrew motion, just like she did in the shower. The suction of her mouth is almost lethal, and the audacity she has to look up at you while she takes your cock in and out of her mouth is so exhilarating that it makes you weak in the knees. Your hand finds a clump of her sweaty hair, and you close your fingers around it, holding them in your fist. No, you weren’t going to push her head down onto your cock; you had to give her the space to work on her craft. 
And of course, she exceeds every expectation out there. Your eyes shut involuntarily, your brain unable to handle any sensations beyond the wet, hot cavern of Wonyoung’s mouth sealed tightly around your shaft with tight, soft lips. With the first entry into her mouth her wet tongue is pressed tightly against the underside of your shaft, lathering it with her spit. With each subsequent entry her tongue becomes more adventurous, beginning with quick swipes left and right on your shaft with each entry and ending each exit with a swirl of the tip around the head of your cock. While she tastes herself on your cock, letting her juices mix with saliva, her hands work in perfect concert with her mouth, one joining her lips at your shaft and pumping up and down, a twisting motion to her wrist while her free hand works gently with your dangling balls, fondling them with considerate fingers. She plays with them softly yet hastily, her fingertips working their magic between the sacs with expert attention.
You are content to stand there with your eyes shut, simply enjoying the feel of your cock pumping in and out of her mouth at a fervent pace, but a small part of you knew that you had to see it happening in order to truly believe it was all real—and so with a not insignificant amount of self-control, you force eyes open to watch the spectacle unfolding between your legs. Black locks bob up and down frantically above your cock, doe-like eyes glazed with pure lust staring right up at you as her cheeks hollow and her jaw unhinges even more to accommodate your length. 
It all becomes too much, and it hits you all at once—having her pump your shaft in the shower, eating her out then fucking her—and you quickly find yourself nearing that inevitable peak.
“Fuck, Wony—” is all you manage to say before your orgasm overtakes your world.
Wonyoung releases your cock from her mouth a split second before you erupt, shooting long, thick strands of hot semen all over her pretty little face. Her face glazes over in pleasure and you are all too happy to watch as strand after strand of cum lands on her cheeks, her pretty little nose, and finally her open mouth and jaw. You watch, through half-lidded eyes drunk with pleasure, as the thick streams of cum flow down her face, dripping onto her upper chest and those perfect breasts of hers. Her face is flushed and her mouth open, as though she herself was on the verge of orgasm (she probably was, and she was going to make it your problem as soon as she got your cum off her face).
You want to remember the way she wipes your cum off her face with the back of her hand, how she licks it all up like a cat licking its own paw before moving to clean the stray strands of cum off the tip and sides of your cock. You want to remember how she rises so gracefully even though she was a sweaty mess, and how she gently takes your hand and guides you back into the shower for another clean up.   
And back under warm water, you want to remember how she kisses you, and how she whispers, “next time, I want that big load in my pussy.”
*
“What?”
And it’s hard to meet Wonyoung’s eyes as you set down the papers from the doctor. You can feel her confusion, her frustration, her rage from across the dining table in your apartment. It isn’t pretty. Nothing about this situation is. 
“It’s a neurological disease,” you tell her, all while you’re looking at the MRI that’s in the middle of the table. You’re really just regurgitating what the doctor told you—it’s the only thing you have the capacity to do right now. “They ran their tests. They told me what I suspected. I’m losing my ability to read and write, to understand language. In 2 years—give or take —I won’t be able to express my thoughts. I’ll be spouting gibberish. What people say, what I see — on pages, street signs, everywhere — they’ll all be unintelligible to me.” She’s silent, and it unnerves you in every way possible. You haven’t even gotten to the worst part of it all. “My mental competence will deteriorate. I’ll have to live off a tube cause I’ll forget how to eat and drink. Dementia will follow shortly.”  
Now would be a great time for her to say something, anything to break this silence. But she is silent, unmoving and reticent in her seat from across you. You have no choice but to gulp and deliver, in your personal opinion, the worst part of it all, “By the time I forget how to breathe I… I would’ve lost all my memories by then.”
She chooses the moment after the last word leaves your mouth to pick up the MRI scan and look at it. 
“So… Everything we’ve built up till now will just… Disappear?” she whispers. She sounds hurt, scared and everything in between. You bite your lower lip. 
“Yes.” There’s no point sugarcoating it, it’s inevitable anyway. Face it now, sulk later… You think that’s the best way to deal with this piece of news. You hope that the matter-of-fact tone of voice that you’ve chosen doesn't betray how frightened you are by the prospect of losing everything you know. “We can’t stop it. It’s in my genes.”
She sets down the scan, and when you look up, you see the tears flowing down her cheeks and it makes you want to cry as well.
She stands up, shoulders her handbag and walks towards the front door. 
“Where are you—” you begin. “I’m going somewhere else to think,” she interjects. 
When she slams the door behind her, you feel like you’ve let her down in so many ways. There’s a burning in your chest that you can’t describe. The first hot tear rolls down your cheek, and you let the rest that well in your eyes flow down without resistance. 
You don’t want to remember what it feels like to be helpless—the emptiness, the rage, the sadness, the confusion is all so overwhelming. But you figure that you’ll have to feel it again at some point down the road. 
Might as well figure out how to cope with it now, when Wonyoung isn't there and you're all alone with your thoughts.
*
When you awaken later that night in your bed in the apartment, it takes you a few moments to determine whether the soft, slim body climbing atop you is real or part of some wonderful dream—but the familiar warmth of your girlfriend, and the soft, pleasant smell of her hair, convinces you that this was all real.
Wonyoung places soft kisses on your neck and jawline, before moving to your mouth and kissing your lips softly. You are still only half awake, but your senses and instincts take over, and you find your mouth welcoming her kiss and returning it with one of your own, your hands moving to either side of her hips and finding, to your surprise, that there was only bare skin there and no clothing.
“Wony…” you begin, as she deepens her kiss, her lips pressing more firmly against yours.
“Shhh,” she answers, “please. I need this. I need you, right now. Please.”
She’s suddenly reappeared after walking out on you, and you have yet to process the slew of emotions that have come your way. Part of you wants to stop her, to talk things out with her so that you could: a) figure out if she was still mad at you and; b) verify that she wasn’t drunk. But the part of you that formed the majority of your conscience knew that she needed comfort as much as you did, and that she needed something to assuage her and make her feel like everything would turn out alright. So you find yourself relaxing underneath her, letting her scent fill your nostrils as her tongue dances with yours.
She straddles you, and your hands begin to run up her naked body, up from her slim thighs to her chest where the ample mounds sat proudly, her nipples erect and stiff. She isn’t wearing any underwear, and your fingers brushing against the slick of her pussy is enough to verify that for you. She’s naked atop of you, kissing you like you just confessed your love to her or like you’re about to go on some mission and never return. It’s not lustful, but it’s full off passion and aims to soothe not stir. 
She breaks the kiss. Her eyes flutter open. In the dark that is pierced by the street lights of the city, you want to remember the way her eyes glimmer and shimmer as she breathes heavily. There’s no alcohol on her breath, and from the way she’s cradling your face, you can infer that she’s not mad at you in the slightest. 
“You okay?” she whispers, and her tone is soft and warm, like that time she spoke in the shower of her hotel about signing that contract with her company so that the two of you could officially start dating. It’s been some time after that, but you still hang on to the way her words made their way to your heart. “I didn’t mean to startle you if I did.”
You respond by nodding, and it’s enough to convey: I’m alright. You brush away the hair that falls in front of her eyes, and you really want to remember how silky smooth her hair feels in your hands. 
“What are you doing?” you ask her, making sure to keep your tone as warm as her own. She blinks, goes silent for a moment, then answers, “I’m making amends.”
She holds your gaze, you hold hers. The staring contest ends when you gently pull her in for another kiss, and you want to remember how she softly moans into your mouth while her thumb, smooth and tender, caresses your cheek.
When the kiss breaks again, her hands snake their way down to your sweats. You assist her in removing your shorts—a very clumsy affair: tangled hands and arms and lots of chuckling. But your cock does finally spring out from your boxers, the ones that have been discarded in the corner of the bed, together with her clothes. When it’s all done, you have the pleasure of witnessing the sight of her slim frame straddling you once more, long legs surrounding you on either side of your thighs while she peppers kisses on your chest. 
“I’m sorry I left you to deal with… Everything. Alone.”  she begins, “I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that… I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t angry”
And from your lying position, you lift a hand to cup her cheek. “We can talk later.”
She gets the message, but bends down and kisses you nonetheless. You’d probably have trouble falling asleep later in the night, and she’d wake up and you’d have this same conversation again. You’d rather have it later than now, not when the wound is still fresh.
Wonyoung lets a soft smile play on her lips. You are slightly aware of her raising her hips, her right hand finding its way between your bodies to grasp your wet, erect shaft, and line it up with her entrance. She breaks the kiss for the third time that night, searches your eyes for approval to continue with this. Was it make up sex? You didn;t know if it was for sure, but it sure as hell felt like it. What you do no for certain is: you’d like to experience this now, and you want to etch this in your memory for as long as you can before it fades with the rest of your mind. 
You give her the slightest of nods, and you feel the head of your cock press against her wet, tight opening. Slowly, carefully, Wonyoung lowers herself down onto your shaft, your cockhead parting her tight lips to impale her pussy. She gasps loudly as she impales herself fully, and she opens her eyes slightly to match your gaze. You brush stray locks of hair away to reveal her face fully, and you bring her mouth back to yours to kiss her deeply. As your tongues duel, she begins to raise her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body before lowering it once more, and soon she has found a soft, slow rhythm as she rides you, grinding her warm, tight body against yours. 
She raises herself upright and lets her hands rest on top of your chest. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes closed, lips slightly parted and the wisp of a smile on her lips as she rocks her hips. From where you lie, you watch as Wonyoung takes you in and out of her body with soft grinding motions, riding you slowly, enjoying every entry and exit of your shaft as it fills her over and over in slow, tender strokes that make her shiver. You watch as your shaft appears for a split second or so before driving back into her, each disappearance accompanied by a soft spike of pleasure. As always, she’s letting moans and sighs and gasps tumble freely from half-parted lips as she takes you in and out of her slowly, rocking her hips with innate grace and elegance. All you do is let your hands rest on her thighs, moaning softly to encourage her as she rides you lovingly, tenderly, a far cry from what you’re used to when it comes down to sex with Jang Wonyoung. 
Through the night, your cock glides in and out of that perfect pussy, elicits moans and gasp and sighs and cute little cusses when you hilt yourself deep inside of her and tug a little at her hair. Her hands were always active, sometimes caressing your chest, sometimes on your jaw, sometimes behind your head as she snaked an arm behind your head to keep you locked where you were just so she could sneak in a kiss. You came in her mouth, her ass, her pussy. She came on your fingers, your cock, your mouth. She cussed a lot, almost passed out once or twice. You cussed a lot two, and you caught her when she almost rolled off the bed (the two of you laughed for a minute about that situation before you ended up spooning on the floor, her leg in the air and your cock pumping in and out of her while she had your back to you and your face in her right hand). 
Bottom line: it was wonderful, wonderful make up sex that ended with both of you sweaty and panting and wanting more from each other but you guys just don’t have that energy to keep going. It was a novelty for both of you, and you wanted to remember just how special she could make you feel, even in the impurest of acts. 
*
The flash of the polaroid camera is almost blinding, but you power through and keep your eyes open. Like a child that’s seeing snow for the first time, Jang Wonyoung watches excitedly as the polaroid emerges from the slot in the camera, and she’s all too eager to grab it and lay it face down on the coffee table in your apartment.
“I thought you’re supposed to shake it?” you ask, watch as she fiddles with the camera for a little bit before she snaps a selfie with her newest purchase. She gives you a look that basically translates to, “uh, are you dumb?” and waits for the next polaroid to emerge from the slot before she launches into her lecture. 
“Shaking the polaroid to make it develop faster is a myth,” the way she sounds so official and everything is so cute. You can’t help but smile a little as she sets the other polaroid down. “It shifts the pigments and blurs the photo, but an idiot like you would need a genius like me to tell that to you.”
The remark is clearly meant to be biting, but it’s nothing short of hilarious to you. “When did you become a camera nerd?”
“Ever since I got this,” she lifts the polaroid camera up and hits you with that you’re on camera smile. “Maybe I should do an ad for this brand. Increase their sales, you know?”
She leaves you to think on that and retrieves the first polaroid she took: a picture of you and her on the couch of your apartment. Not the grandest first photo, but hey, a memory is a memory, and you really are just focusing on cherishing those at the moment. As she leaves the couch to clip the polaroid onto the photo rack (a bunch of metal wires on a metal frame with wooden clips to hold photos) she just set up, you grab your journal next to you and flip it to the page you wrote on a few hours before. With your pen (that you now carry around just about everywhere with your journal), you scribble down a new part of today that you want to remember. It was her idea to journal down everything you wanted to remember. 
The entry goes right under the one about Wonyoung’s new camera.
She looks so happy with that new camera. Bet she’s going to go back to the dorm and show it off to all of her members because she’s a fucking child. I hope that…
And you trail off in your writing, What you wanted to say was just on the tip of your tongue just a second ago. Why can’t you remember it? It was literally just in your head a minute ago…
No. 
You shut the journal. It makes a soft yet substantial thud as the leather cover slaps against pages. You place your pen in your pocket, set the journal back down on the couch and stand up to walk towards your girlfriend, who is currently adjusting the angle that the wooden clip holds the polaroid at. She senses you walking up to her, steps aside and makes a space for you to watch her struggle. You would offer help, but you know that it removes half the fun for her when you do something for her. 
She fiddles around a little more, makes a couple of grunting sounds under her breath, curses a little, and next thing you know, she exclaims, “tada!” while pointing at the first occupant of the photo rack. You roll your eyes, throw an arm over her shoulder and look at the slightly blurry photo within the white frame. 
“With the camera,” she tells you, her tone soft and warm like… Like… Fuck. “I hope that we can help our memories live on. Sounds pretty deep huh?”
You can’t help but chuckle in agreement. You take a moment to stare at the two faces that occupy the space in the polaroid, and you hope to God that they will never, ever look foreign to you. It’s a futile prayer, you know, but a glass-half-full mentality is the best chance you have at not spiralling out of control. 
Wonyoung lays her head on your shoulder, silent and all sentimental as she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She lets out a shuddering sigh, and you know that she’s trying not to cry, cause in this situation she’s the one that will end up hurt at the end of it all. You’ll forget the pain of forgetting; she’ll remember the pain of being forgotten. It sucks, but it’s just the way it is. You hug her, hold her close and stroke her hair. You don’t want to forget what she means to you, what you mean to her.
How many more polaroids left till it all ceases to matter?
____________________
Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed this fic. I'm a bit rusty so this one might be a bit funny, but hopefully the style of storytelling I chose didn't fuck you up too bad. Non-linear storytelling will be the death of me. Also: I kinda didn't edit this one too much. My bad hehe.
This was really more of a PSA to cherish the ones you hold close to you, because you never know when they will just disappear. Love the people close to you, cherish them forever.
~Lots of love Nichuuu
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wooyoungiewritings · 1 year ago
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A "First" Date - Yunho x Reader
Summary: Your best friend Yunho and you always find dates for each other, trying to help each other out with love. You always try to find the best ones for each other, but one day, Yunho sets you up with his “friend”, and you quickly realize that your best friend wants to prove a point. And maybe he actually knows you better than you think - in multiple ways.
Word count: 13.6K
Genre: Fluff, smut (it's so cute but oh gosh so dirty)
warnings: Best friend Yunho with fem reader (fem pronouns). Yunho is *cough* BIG *cough*. YUNHO HANDS, Oral sex, messy blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, light choking, unprotected sex, spit, aftercare, honestly it's one big warning because there's SO MUCH I got carried away. But lmk if I missed anything!
This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Yunho in any way.
“What happened to the last girl I set you up with?” You ask, looking to your side to see your best friend, Yunho, widening his eyes.
“Are you serious? She wanted to lick my toes in the middle of the restaurant.” He responds with a shiver, “I’m not a kink-shamer, and I respect being open for a foot kink, but I know when things cross my personal line.” He leans further back on the couch as you both stare up at the ceiling, blankly looking at my white loft. 
You and Yunho always hung out. It made it even easier having him living in the house next door, so you were practically spending every day together. Since he helped you get your lunch back from a bully when you both were 6, you two had been inseparable, and everyone knew that. Whenever the two of you met someone new, the first initial thought was that you were dating, but the two of you quickly set the record straight. You were just friends. 
But people didn’t always believe the two of you, though, thinking that you must hook up secretly, but the truth was that you’ve never done that. You’ve never kissed, never sexually touched each other. But Yunho has been the one person in your life who you always would go to, no matter what you need. A deep talk? Yunho would let you talk your heart out and listen for hours. A hug? He’d drop everything in his hands. He knew everything about you and would gladly hold you close whenever you needed it. He was there to keep you safe from anyone and anything, and he’d gladly do it.
But the thought of Yunho that way wasn’t strange to you either.. He was tall, handsome, respectful, funny.. He was every girl's dream, and whoever would end up with him would win the lottery. So you would lie if you said you hadn’t wondered how he acts around a lover, how his big hands would feel gripping your thigh while he is driving the car, or how he would whisper intimate things in your ear with his deep voice. But you would never admit that to anyone, especially not him. 
“What about that marketing guy I set you up with last month?” Yunho’s head turns to you and you immediately shake your head. 
“Ooooh, no no no. He showed clear signs of still being in love with his ex and searching for a rebound. I’m not looking for that.” You sigh, at this point losing track of how many failed dates you’ve been on this year. 
For the past few months, Yunho and you had helped each other on dates, being each other's wing(wo)man. You were both at a point in your life where you wanted something more serious, so why not get help from the person who knew you the best?
A smile crept up on your lips, wanting to hear his opinion on the thought that just popped into your head.
“I’m still down to a second date with that guy from your old work-” You begin to tell Yunho but he quickly shakes his head before you can finish the sentence. 
“Fuck no. You’re not going out with him again.” He spoke like a father to a child who did something rebellious. “He doesn’t treat women well.” 
“Well, you set me up on a date with him, so you must have some kind of idea of him and me together.” You tilt your head to the side as he once again shakes his head. 
“That was before I knew what kind of person he was. Sending you on a date with him is still my biggest failure in this entire wingman show,” His voice had a hint of humor in it, but his eyes were serious. “If he asks you out again, I hope you say no. And if you don’t, I’ll hunt him down and tell him to leave you alone. End of story.” He relaxed on the couch once again, ending this topic like a strict parent. 
And you never had the intention to go out with this guy again. He treated you alright on the date, but the chemistry wasn’t there. And when Yunho found out that the guy he set you up with was a cheater, liar, and borderline mentally abusive, he was quick to end the “relationship” on your behalf. But Yunho never told you what kind of person the guy actually was, he just told you he wasn’t a good person. But that was typical Yunho - he was trying to protect you and didn’t want you to worry too much. 
You roll your eyes at his protectiveness. "If you keep scaring my dates away, I'll never find the one." You crossed your arms over your chest.
"Or you should just open your mind up and start seeing the difference between who's a sociopath and who treats you well. Use your critical thinking skills."
“That’s rich coming from someone like you.” You joke, but still with a hint of truth behind it. 
“Someone like me?!” He sat up straight on the couch and looked at you with a shocked expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“It’s hard to find someone who matches exactly what you want. That’s all I’m saying.” You put up your hands and leaned back on the couch while he looked at you, still with a confused expression. 
“What? I may be critical, but I always give my dates a good time.” His hands find their way behind his head, feeling satisfied with himself. One thing Yunho knew for sure would be that he would never leave a date feeling unsatisfied. Whether it would be him doing a little extra on the date to make them feel special, or them, full on having sex in his car. No matter what, he would take good care of them. 
“Well, apparently not, or you would’ve let that girl lick your toes.” Your comment had him rolling his eyes at you.
His tongue clicked. “Oh, shut up,” He shook his head before finding his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. “Speaking of dates, you have a date tomorrow.”
The sudden change of conversation topic left you sitting straight up on the couch, excited to hear more. 
“Already? Who is it?” You lean forward towards him to get a look at his phone, but he is quick to send you a glare and push you away from the view of his screen. 
“Damn, you nosy..” He scoffed. “It’s one of my good friends. Can’t say more for now.” He darts back at the screen and types something you can’t see while you send him a glare. Not a single glance is being sent in your direction as he’s too busy typing something on his phone. 
“Well, alright. Where does he want me to meet him?” You ask as you lean back on the couch.
“I’ll just forward the message he sent me,” A moment after a sound comes from your phone, and you see an address and a time in the message from Yunho. “This one doesn’t have an ex or a thing for toes, so you’re good.” He locks his phone as he sends you a confident smile.
“Perfect.” You smile and mentally prepare yourself for the date tomorrow. 
***
Namsan Park (parking lot) 6:30 Tell her to wear something nice and comfortable :)
You keep your eyes on your phone as you make your way toward the location from Yunho’s forwarded message. You weren’t given much information about what you were getting yourself into, but you trusted Yunho. And you showed that by voluntarily meeting a random guy in the park as the sun was slowly setting for the day. The signs weren't too good so far, but you kept an optimistic mindset.
And with you wearing a dress and a thin jacket on top, you start to realize what a mistake you’ve made with your choice of clothing. 
The parking lot comes into sight and your heart starts beating faster. It’s always scary meeting someone new for the first time, so of course you were a bit nervous. 
As you walk into the parking lot, your eyes start searching for anyone who looks like they are going on a date. A few cars are parked here and there, but no man in sight. Well, that’s before you take a few more steps and see a tall guy next to his black car, back turned to you as he looks at the landscape in front of him. 
His hands calmly resting in the pockets of his slack pants, and his black hair looking messy.
Messy hair you’ve seen before. The tall figure. Broad shoulders. The black car. 
You stop and look at him, and he turns around with an innocent smile on his face.
“What are you doing here?” The confusion is evident in your voice.
Yunho’s face lights up even more as he makes his way towards you with his hand reaching out.
“You must be Y/n! Hi, I’m Yunho, nice to meet you.” He waits for you to shake his hand but you just look at it before glaring up and into his eyes again. His eyes travel down to your dress, and he instantly knows he has to focus on what he is doing.
He’s taking you out and that’s it. But gosh, he didn’t expect you to look like that in your little black dress that he had never seen before.
“What are you doing?” You try again, hoping he’ll answer why he’s here and why he was acting like this. Where was your date? Was he your date?
His reached-out hand slowly falls to his side as his smile turns a little awkward and a nervous laugh escapes his lips. “Oh, Yunho has told me so much about you, so I thought I’d like to meet you myself and see what a date with you would be like.” He tried clarifying as you realized what was happening. You were actually going on a date with your Yunho. Your best friend. The realization made the smile on your lips freeze, but you couldn’t help but think how unusual he was acting. He was all dressed up, acting like you’ve never met before, and behaved like the two of you hadn’t just hung out yesterday.
Silence filled the air between you as you tried to figure out what was happening. Yunho then left a quick, slightly annoyed sigh before finding his phone in his pocket. “Sorry, I have to make a short phone call.. Excuse me for a moment.”
His back turned to you as he took a few steps away, while he looked down on his phone. Your eyes squint as you watch him bring his phone to his ear. A short moment later, your phone starts buzzing in your hands and Yunho’s name appears on the screen. A giggle leaves your mouth before you accept the call and bring it to your ear.
“Hello?” You answered, looking at Yunho’s back turned towards you a few meters away.
“Hey.. Are you on the date yet?” His voice through the phone was back to normal, and another short laugh escaped through your lips.
“Yes, I just got here.” 
“Alright.. Just wanted to let you know that he’s a little nervous, so be kind to him.” His voice was stern like he was actually talking about one of his friends and not himself. 
“What a loser.” You smirked as you observed his reaction a few meters away, not being able to hold back your normal behavior. 
“Hey! I’ve known this guy for years, I know he’s up for a good time, so be positive on this date. Alright?” His voice lowered so you could only hear him through the phone. This whole situation seems unreal to you, having your best friend take you out on a date, but you are up to trying something new. And this way, you could see how Yunho normally behaved on first dates, which was something you’ve wondered about before. 
“I’ll try my best.” You smile.
“Good.. Let me know how it went later, and if he’s being a creep, let me know and I’ll come kick his ass. Good luck.” He hung up the phone and made his way back to you with an apologetic face like he didn’t just speak to you on the phone. “I’m so sorry, I promise, no more phone calls for tonight.” He smiled innocently and opened the door to the passenger seat. “So? You’re up for a date?” 
***
“A reservation for two, Jeong Yunho.” Yunho smiles at the man behind the small desk at the restaurant. The dimmed light and the waiters dressed in tuxedos all summed up the atmosphere of the restaurant. This was not something you’ve ever done with Yunho, despite sharing countless dinners with him over the many years. A short moment after the waiter confirms the reservation, you feel Yunho’s hand guiding you after the waiter by the small of your back, leading you to your table. 
“I feel.. Underdressed." You nudge Yunho when the waiter leaves and you walk to your side of the table. You may be wearing a dress, but it wasn’t the fanciest one you owned, and now you regret not wearing it. Before you can grab your chair, Yunho is quick to pull it out for you and send you a smile. You try to hide your smile as you sit down and he pushes the chair forwards. 
“You look perfect.” He whispers in your ear before going to his side of the table, sending you a wink when you meet his eyes. His words and his behavior all confused you, because you weren’t used to seeing this side of him. He was always respectful, but never like this towards you. And one thing was for sure; he was not making it easy for you. 
You’ve only been on the date for 30 minutes, but whenever your hands would touch or he would say something with pure softness in his voice, you would feel your heart melt a little. But this was all just a date to see how the two of you usually behave on dates, it’s not like it means anything… right?
You keep glancing at him over your menu, hard to keep your eyes off the handsome man in front of you. His hair is perfectly ruffled, a black button-down with the sleeves nicely rolled up and his pretty hands holding the menu in front of him. Never had you imagined eating dinner with him like this would do something to you, but the flying little animals in your stomach were telling you differently.  
You both ordered different food along with something to drink, and the waiter left you both staring at each other, after pouring both of your drinks. 
“Thank you for coming on this date with me.” Yunho smiles from across the table. 
“I’m happy to be here,” You smile back. “I'm happy Yunho encouraged you to ask me out.” You grab your glass and take a sip while trying to hide the smirk creeping up on your lips. 
“I just had a good feeling about you, Yunho has told me a lot about you.” He’s back to wearing the typical smirk you know. If it wasn’t your best friend sitting in front of you, this date would be looking a lot different. But the way your breathing becomes shaky and your eyes wander to long fingers around his glass, you can’t help but romanticize this whole situation. 
“So do you usually go on a lot of dates, Yunho?” You ask, playing with the whole idea of the two of you just meeting for the first time.
“I go out once in a while.. But I’ve never really gotten on a second date with the same person,” He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “Whenever a date goes bad, I usually blame my best friend, she’s the one who sets me up.” 
You want to roll your eyes at him, but keep it to yourself. Instead, you crack a genuine smile at his comment.
“Oh, so you have a girl best friend?” You tease.
“I do. We’ve been friends ever since I can remember,” He informs you like you’re not the person he’s talking about. “I think the two of you would get along pretty well.” He says in a quiet tone, a smile still on his lips. His eyes travel to your lips that carry a small drop of your drink, and he has to fight everything in himself not to lean over and touch your lips. 
A first date wouldn’t do that, he thinks. Don’t touch her.
You sense his focus on your lips and you’re quick to lick your lips, removing the drop. 
The way he’s looking at you makes you want to thank the restaurant for having dimmed light because you know you’re blushing like crazy and you’re absolutely hating it. This shouldn’t feel so exciting and new, and somehow you can’t help but wonder if this feels normal to him or if he’s just putting on an act for you. 
And you honestly don’t know if you want to know the answer. 
“And what about you?” He raises a brow. “Do you usually go on dates?” 
You skim away, thinking of a good answer to match his energy. His relaxed figure makes you slightly intimidated, especially with the way his arms are resting on the table, and him eying you up and down. The sexual tension is definitely there, and it’s a tension you haven’t felt before. It makes you wonder if it has been there before, or if it’s the setting that makes you want to explore what it is. You shrug, leaning forward as well. 
“I don’t mind a date here and there,” you respond. “If it was up to me, though, I would be going out a little more. But my best friend who sets me up on the dates, he’s uhm.. He’s a little protective of me.” The smirk is back on your lips and he holds back his smile by pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Something that makes his jaw clench and another flutter runs through your stomach.
“Is that so?” He asks teasingly. “You have a protective guy best friend?” 
“I do.. Does that make you concerned?” You tilt your head to the side and Yunho responds by squinting his eyes. Two could play this game, and with the way he was looking at you, you didn’t want the game to stop anytime soon. 
“My immediate thought is no.. But I guess it depends on whether or not you think I should be concerned?” He teases back. He’s good. 
“I think you should ask him then.” You smirk.
A smile also reaches Yunho’s lips as he leans back in his chair. “Alright.. Guess I’ll have a little chitchat with him later.” 
***
After almost two hours of you and Yunho eating dinner, laughing, and sending smirks in each other's direction, you walk out of the restaurant after Yunho paid, and onto the street. It is fully dark outside, and the thin jacket you are wearing is not helping much. 
But that’s when you feel something heavier on your shoulders and look to see Yunho place his blazer on you. His tall figure behind you makes your breathing stop for a second, and you almost stop him and tell him you’re fine, but he’s quick to interrupt you.
“Wanna get some dessert? I know a good place.” His eyes sparkle, even when the sun is gone. You’re close enough to smell his cologne, and it’s safe to say that you’re getting more and more mentally weak for him. 
You clear your throat. “Uh-yeah.” You shake your head to get out of the trance Yunho has put you in, but is instantly back when his hand guides you from the small of your back. His touch burns through every layer of fabric and touches your skin. He has touched you many times and placed a hand on your back or your shoulder, but never did you feel a spark like this. 
Yunho knew a good spot further down the street that sold ice cream cones, so you both got your favorite flavors (he paid, once again) and you were now sitting on the swings in the park nearby. A comfortable silence fills the space between you as you both enjoy your dessert, swinging back and forth on each swing. 
“So..” Yunho starts halfway through his ice cream while you’re not even at the cone yet. Your eyes go to him as he shifts his attention back and forth between you and his dessert. “How do you think the date is going?” His big eyes lock with yours, and he looks slightly nervous. 
“Depends on who’s asking,” You lick your ice cream while a wrinkle forms between Yunho’s brows. “It is my date, Yunho, who’s asking, or is it Yunho, my best friend, who’s asking?” You explain and he looks away for a moment to think, before looking back at you. 
“Your date, Yunho, is asking.” He answers.
“Then I think it’s going very well.” You smile, meaning every word. 
Going on a date with him was not on this year's bingo card, but you didn’t mind tonight. If anything, you were actually enjoying seeing this side of Yunho. 
“And what if your best friend asked?” One of his brows shot up curiously and you shake your head.
“Then I’d tell him to wait until I get home. I won’t expose myself in the middle of a date, that’s embarrassing.” 
A laugh comes from Yunho and you smile at the sound. Another heat sneaks up in your cheeks, hearing him enjoy himself in this setting, and you look away. If he knew what he was doing to you, you weren’t sure you would be able to ever look him in the eyes again. 
Yunho finishes his ice cream long before you and just looks at your side profile as you make your way through the dessert. A prominent smile keeps decorating his lips.
You continue finishing your chocolate ice cream, in your own world for a moment, until you hear footsteps approaching you. You look over to see Yunho make his way towards you, feeling your mouth dry out from the way he looks in the dimmed light. The moon and the few streetlights are the only things lighting up the park, and the shadows on his face create a stunning view. 
You freeze when he takes your hand and pulls you up from the swing, looking down at you with heavy eyes. He’s so close you can practically feel his body heat. A smile spreads on his lips when he looks down at your lips. His fingers rest under your chin, and suddenly you’re feeling his thumb trace over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches at his sudden act, but when he removes his hand to show you chocolate ice cream on the tip of his finger, a giggle leaves his mouth. 
“You’re messy.” He looks at his finger before looking into your eyes. And your mouth completely dries when he licks the ice cream off his thumb while keeping eye contact with you. 
Everything inside you is going crazy, leaving you speechless. Such a simple little thing usually doesn’t affect you, but Yunho licking ice cream from your lips, off his finger while maintaining eye contact is making the butterflies practically fly out of your stomach and into your entire body. 
“Let’s get you cleaned a little, come on.” He takes your hand in his and he could practically take you anywhere he wanted. Your brain was not functioning at the moment, only focusing on what just happened, and how it feels with his hand holding onto yours. A small convenience store comes into sight, and Yunho pulls you with him and over to a small table by the window, where a couple is sitting, eating ramen. He grabs a napkin and turns around to look down at you and starts wiping your lips with the napkin. 
You swallow nervously as his eyes are focused on your lips, and when he finishes removing some ice cream from the corner of your mouth, looking satisfied, your gaze automatically drops to your feet. 
Yunho notices the way you avoid looking into his eyes, and a smirk creeps up on his lips. He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to make you nervous, but he loves seeing you like this. Loves seeing you react to him this way.
The couple at the table next to you finishes their ramen and walks out of the convenience store just as rain starts to pour outside. A sudden downpour catches the city off guard, sending people running with their hoods up. 
“Guess we can stay here for a few minutes until the rain stops. What do you think?” Yunho asks, looking back at you after looking through the big window display. 
"Sure." Is all you say before you turn around and begin scanning the shelves at the store. You try to avoid meeting Yunho's gaze as you make yourself look occupied, but you sense him trailing behind you, keeping you within his line of sight. Meanwhile, the young cashier at the desk is engrossed in a show on their phone, oblivious to the two of you taking refuge from the rain.
You walk down one of the isles and stop when you see a specific kind of chips you used to love. You remember them from a few years ago but haven’t been able to find them in stores ever since. 
“You like those?” You hear from behind you and look to see Yunho standing close to you, eying the chips you were just reminiscing about. 
“Uhm, yeah.. I thought they stopped producing them.” You say. 
You don’t get to react before Yunho grabs the bag of chips and goes to the desk to pay. You’re left in the aisle, looking at him paying for the snacks you didn’t think you needed, and he returns with a smile on his face. 
About 15 minutes pass, and you and Yunho are sitting at the table in front of the window, eating chips and waiting for the rain to stop. You push the chips, lying on the table, towards Yunho and he takes one and brings it to his mouth. 
“I don’t think the rain is going to stop.” You say as you see the piles of water get bigger and bigger by the minute. Yunho stands up from his chair, glancing outside to spot something before looking back at you.
“My car is close to the restaurant.. If we don’t wanna get too drenched, we have to run. You’re up for that?” With a daring smile, he asks if you want to run in the pouring rain. Suddenly, something changes within you and you feel an unexpected surge of excitement. You eagerly nod in agreement and he takes your hand, leading you out of the store. You both take a moment to mentally prepare yourselves under the shelter before setting off to run as fast as you can.
“Are you ready?” He asks with a smile, somehow finding this whole situation funny. 
“Ready.” You answer, and Yunho counts down from three before you both sprint towards Yunho’s car. As you run with Yunho, the water splashes up on your bare legs and he still holds on tightly to your hand. You find yourself laughing and getting drenched in the rain. Running with squinted eyes and without a care feels liberating. If you were on a date with someone you didn't know, you would have been concerned about how you presented yourself, how you spoke, and how you looked. But with Yunho, you feel comfortable being completely drenched.
You spot Yunho's car and sprint past the restaurant where you had dinner earlier. Yunho unlocks the car and giggles when he sees you. He rushes to the passenger side and opens the door for you. After you jump in, he closes your door and runs to the driver's side.
He joins you in the car, and you can't help but laugh when you see him. He's completely soaked, with wet hair stuck to his forehead and his button-up shirt clinging to him. Laughter fills the car as you make eye contact. Suddenly, you remember that you're wearing his jacket and start to feel guilty.
"Oh, your jacket--" you begin, but he interrupts you by reaching into the back seat and pulling out a black hoodie. He hands it to you, still panting from running, but you shake your head. "Wear the hoodie yourself. You're more soaked than I am."
"Come on, you'll get sick if you don't warm up. I'm fine." he insists, and you eventually accept the hoodie. You take off your drenched jacket and he throws it in the back seat. Your skin is glistening from the rain, and you start to feel cold. Yunho notices and steals a quick glance at your wet neck area. He realizes that you're not wearing a bra under your dress and takes a sharp inhale. Clearing his throat, he watches as you pull his hoodie over your head.
Stay focused, Yunho, he thinks. 
Immediately, Yunho’s scent wraps around you like a warm hug, and since you were just wearing a little black dress, and Yunho’s clothes are obviously oversized, the hoodie covers most of your thighs as well. 
“Let’s get you home and in some dry clothes.” Yunho says, kindly reminding himself to let the date end (for now), so he starts the car, turns up the heat, and heads towards your homes.
The drive was calm, both of you just listening to the rain pouring and clicking on the windows. You couldn’t help but think about how fun today was, and how thankful you were that Yunho ended up being your date. Whether or not he did it to prove a point, you enjoyed yourself and almost didn’t want the night to end. 
Yunho drove past his own house and parked in front of yours. “Is this your house?” He asks while looking past you and at the house with an impressed expression. 
“It is, good guess finding the exact address.” You joke, and he’s quiet for a moment.
“I’m psychic, I forgot to mention.” His smile makes you melt for the hundredth time tonight, and you prepare yourself to exit the car when you remember something.
 “Oh, your hoodie.” You say, about to take it off, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.
“Keep it for now. I have a feeling I’ll see you again.” He sends a wink in your direction.  
“Oh, cool.. Well, thank you for tonight, I had a pretty good time.”
“Me too.. But I should head home, it’s getting late and the drive is pretty long.” 
You have to fight not to laugh at him, so you just nod and unbuckle your seatbelt. 
“Of course. I’ll see you soon?” You ask, hoping you’ll see him soon soon. He immediately understands what you mean and he nods.
“You will.” 
You send him one last smile and pull the hood from the hoodie over your head before heading out of the car. You don’t get as drenched as earlier, because you’re quickly able to lock yourself in and close the front door behind you. 
A curiousness hits you, and you immediately look out of the window. Keeping an eye on Yunho in the car, you can’t help but laugh when he backs from your house over to his, turns off the car, and runs to his own house. When he locks himself in and disappears out of sight, you remove yourself from the window. 
Your head is spinning from the night, how much fun you had, and how much you enjoyed being on a date with Yunho. An actual date. And even though you can’t help but think he did this for fun and to prove how good he is at dating, you almost wish this wasn’t the case. Because he was so much better at going on dates than you thought.
A knock is heard on your door, and you’re positive you know who’s waiting on the other side. You run to open the door and see Yunho, no longer in his button-up and slacks, but in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, still with hair damp from the rain.
“There you are! I was waiting for you to come home, I was worried I sent you on a date with a psycho.” He walks past you and into the house. You close the door with a consistent smile as you watch him get himself comfortable on the couch in your living room. 
“You were keeping an eye on me?” You lift an eyebrow as you sit down beside him.
“Needed to make sure he was a gentleman, you know? So what do you think? How was he?” He looks at you with the subtle smirk he had been carrying the entire night like he knew he was a good date. He could be humbled a little. 
“I mean.. he was a little..” You search for the right word. “Weird.”
He completely loses the confidence shining through him, and a deep wrinkle forms between his brows. 
“Huh?” 
“I don’t know, I think he thinks a little highly of himself. You know, he’s not all that.”
Of course, you’re teasing him, but also not entirely wanting to admit how good of a date he actually was. Yunho had always been a confident guy, because he knew he was good-looking, well-mannered, funny, and had been one of God’s favorites when it came to size. So a little teasing wouldn’t hurt anybody.
Yunho looks at you a bit confused. “I don’t-”
You interrupt him. “He also didn’t let me pay for my part of the dinner. It just came off as-”
“Well, maybe he just wanted to make sure you were having a good time without-” Yunho interrupts you as well, clearly having his pride hurt, but stops talking when he meets your eyes and sees the teasing look on your face. “Nevermind..”
You crack a smile and tilt your head. “You can tell him that I had a great time,” You’re downplaying like this wasn't the best date of your life, “I’m really curious about who he is.” 
When you meet his eyes, there’s a certain flash of something you can’t describe. But he’s quick to go back to the behavior you usually know, making you wonder what that look meant. 
“I will.. But unfortunately, he’s not gonna be in town for a while, you see, because he needs to go home and back to school which happens to be in.. Venezuela. Sooo.. Sorry.” He shrugs and leans forward, resting an elbow on his thigh to hold his head.
“Oh well, he wasn’t that amazing either.” You shrug as well, looking away from him, pretending not to care.
A scoff leaves Yunho’s mouth. “You’re acting like you don’t care, but I know you’re gonna dream about him tonight,” He teases with a confident smile and your jaw drops when you look at him. He’s too much. “He’s probably gonna be in your little late-night fantasies-” 
“Shut up!” You push him on the shoulder teasingly. 
You hate how he knows that, that is true. He’s most definitely gonna be in your fantasies tonight.
He tries to grab your hand but fails. Instead, he goes to poke you in the side. “Am I not telling the truth?” He laughs.
“No!” Yes.
You try pushing him away, but he’s way too strong, and the two of you end up trying to grab each other's hands, getting control of the other. It ends up with a little fight on the couch, and you find yourself lying further down on the couch while Yunho hovers above you. You can’t help but laugh at the situation because you know you’ve lost. And that is being confirmed when Yunho’s had too much and pins both of your wrists above your head with one of his hands, while his other hand is placed on your waist. 
The feeling of him pinning you down like this, hovering over you, is gonna play in your mind the entire night. 
This is not good, you think.
Both of your breaths are heavy after the small fight you just had, and when meeting each other’s eyes in this position, it’s like something changes for a moment. His eyes go dark when looking down at you and his hand holding yours. The same goes for you because your heart starts to beat faster, and you can’t help but get excited by this situation and the feeling of his touch. You can’t see your hands, but you know how his hands look, and you know yours look good being pinned down by him.
The silence goes on for a few more seconds, before you come to your senses and clear your throat. “I’m gonna get something to drink, want some?”
It’s like he realizes the position as well, and loosens the grip on your wrists. “Yes please,” He lets go of you and stands up. Either it's the fact that you just had a small fight, or it was the way Yunho looked at you, but you feel incredibly hot and lift the hoodie over your head and throw it on the couch when standing up. You make your way to the kitchen when you hear him follow behind you. “I’ve been eating these awful chips tonight that dry out my entire mouth-”
“Hey!” You turn around to see him back in his teasing element with a smile on his face. 
“What?” He asks.
“You said you liked them!” You fight back, entering the kitchen completely, him following you behind quietly. 
“Nooo, that was the other Yunho. He was just being polite to his date and didn’t want to make her feel bad for having poor taste in snacks. I’m your best friend, on the other hand, and it’s my job to be honest with you.” He leans up against the doorframe, crossing his arms and you have to focus on not looking at him. 
You find some glasses from the cabinet and shake your head. “So the other Yunho is a liar then?”
“There’s a difference between lying and holding back the truth.” His argument is weak, so you shake your head as you pour some water into the glass.
“Well, I think I liked the other Yunho better then. He was a gentleman, this one,” You point to him, sending him a glaring elevator look, “Is an ass.” You hand him his glass and pour up something for yourself. 
His hand goes to his heart like it just shattered from your words. “An ass!? Come on, you can’t choose a favorite Yunho. You’re gonna make me feel jealous of myself.” He laughs and you can’t help but roll your eyes, not even trying to hide it. 
You take a sip of your water, and you quickly feel his gaze lingering on you. Specifically your body in the dress, now that the hoodie wasn't hiding it. You catch his eyes traveling down to your bare legs and up once again. 
“You’ve been staring a lot at my dress tonight.” You say looking away, distracting yourself by cleaning up your glass. 
“I could say the same about you staring at my hands,” His words make you shoot your eyes in his direction, slightly panicked that he knew. The smirk grows on his lips, while you freeze, not knowing what to say. “What, you thought I didn’t notice?” He says as he slowly starts to walk closer, placing his glass on top of the counter while keeping his eyes on you.
Your body thoughtlessly takes a few steps back, until your lower back is pressed against the counter on the kitchen island. He’s walking slowly, but somehow he's in front of you within no time, caging you between the island and his towering body. His hands are placed on each side of you on the counter, time seems to have stopped, and your breathing quickly fastens. 
“So.. Is there a reason for the staring?” He stares down at you and you can’t help but look away from his piercing eyes. Your breathing has already stopped and you’re sure you barely can’t get any words out. “Look at me,” His deep voice commands and without a doubt in your mind, you immediately listen and look into his eyes. A small scoff leaves him like he knows you’re under his spell, and he tilts his head slightly to the side. “Hmm?” 
Your mouth goes dry, searching for the right words to say. “I could ask you the same.” Is all you manage to say.
“And my answer would be yes.” He’s quick to say like he has nothing to hide. His confidence shines through, and it makes your heart beat even faster. 
You’re quiet for a moment as you take in what he just said. “And what is the reason?” You ask, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. You’ve never seen this side of Yunho before (only when he’s been flirting with girls at parties) and you honestly don’t know how to act back. You know exactly where your mind goes when thinking of his hands, deep voice, and dominating manner, but you can’t admit that to him. 
His eyes linger on your lips for a moment and then back to your eyes. “I can’t tell you.” 
“Why?” 
Never has the tension been like this between the two of you, and it’s like you both know what the other is thinking, but neither of you is doing anything about it. 
“It’s not something best friends say.” His voice turns to a whisper and your breathing stops again. You can’t look him in the eyes, afraid to expose yourself so your eyes instantly shoot away.
It’s not something best friends say.
Your mind is going crazy, and all you wanna do is know what he’s thinking about. The game you’ve both decided to play, leaving nothing but subtle thoughts for the imagination, is killing you. But he just fully admitted that he’s been thinking the same thing as you because you would never directly admit to him how he’s been running through your mind tonight. But he has, in ways you won’t even be able to put into words. 
“What are you thinking about?” He’s still keeping his eyes on you and you somehow find the courage to look back into his eyes. 
“It’s.. It’s not something best friends say.” Is all you say and you see a change in the way he looks at you. Everything burns inside Yunho, and he wants so badly to do what he’s been thinking about for hours and hours, but he’s not sure you’re ready. Your friendship would change in an instant, and he wants you to be sure.
He opens his mouth, getting ready to ask, “Can I ki-”
“Yes.” You interrupt him before you grab him by the collar and smash your lips against his in a heated kiss. Everything comes crumbling down, like you both had been waiting for this to happen, in a messy, eager kiss. His hands find their way around your waist to pull you closer, not leaving his lips from yours. The counter from the kitchen island is pressing against your back as he towers over you, devouring your lips. He picks you up effortlessly and places you on the counter, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer. A muffled moan escapes his lips against yours, as he feels you against his hardening cock. He pulls back for a second to get a look at you, his eyes traveling down your body. 
“Holy fuck.. You look so fucking beautiful.” He breathed, looking into your doe eyes. The spark in them is enough for him to miss his lips on yours, so you’re back in a messy kiss in a split second. “I’ve been wanting to tear this dress off you all night.” He mumbles against your lips, slowly making his way down your jaw and onto your neck. 
“You should’ve just done that.” You run your fingers through his hair as you lean your head back, giving him more space to run his lips over your neck. One of his hands runs in your hair, grabbing the back, holding you in place before feeling his breath on your ear.
“Careful,” His deep voice is next to your ear, and you can practically hear him smirking. “Don’t get cocky with me now.” 
Just when he’s about to kiss you again, he pulls back and looks deeply into your eyes. You realize the look in his eyes has changed a bit, as he tries to read your face.
“What?” You ask confused. Is he regretting this? Is this a bad idea? Does he not want to do this?
His breathing is ragged, but he holds eye contact for a few more seconds before speaking. 
“If it gets too much.. If you want me to stop, please let me know, okay? Because I don’t think I can hold back from you once you let me do this.” His touch on you is now softer than before.
You can’t help but crack a smile at the way he asks permission for this to happen, but there’s not a single part of you that doubts this. You want this. You want him.
And the thing is, he wants you too, if not more. Everything inside Yunho is exploding, and he can’t even believe he isn’t kissing you right now. If it stood to him, you were both naked at this point, but he wants you to be sure about this. He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable or about to regret this, because you mean more to him than anyone has ever done. 
Your hands grab his head as you pull him into a softer kiss. A promising kiss. A kiss that tells him that you’re sure about this. His hands grab the counter, fighting himself not to go too crazy. 
“I want you, Yunho.” You look deeply into his eyes. “I trust you.” The words change something in Yunho’s eyes, and he takes a quick deep breath before crashing his lips onto yours again.  
His hands quickly find your body, traveling around your waist and up and down your thighs, getting used to the touch of you under his control. Your fingers run through his hair, but you instantly grab a hold of his locks when you feel his fingers press against your clothed pussy. The touch of his fingers alone is enough to make you moan, and he’s taking his time running the tip of three fingers up and down your core, sending shock waves through your body.
“You’re dripping wet.. Is this what you thought about when looking at my hands all night?” He asks. You can’t even get out any words, so you just nod eagerly. Another scoff leaves Yunho’s mouth and suddenly the feeling of his touch disappears. “Lay down.” 
You’re listening to his commands like a dog to their owner, and your back leans down on the cold counter. You feel his hands run from your thighs to your hips where he’s grabbing your panties to pull them down. Air hits your core, and suddenly you hear a deep chuckle coming from Yunho. 
“Of course..” He says to himself. 
"What?" You ask nervously.
“Of course, you have such a pretty pussy. You really don’t have any flaws, do you?”
He pushes your legs apart before digging in, tugging you forward a bit so he has easier access. You look down at him to see his tongue immediately find its way through your slit. All nervousness leaves your body as he starts tasting you. He lets out a satisfied groan when he starts sucking your clit, and he looks absolutely amazing from your point of view, in his relaxed clothes and slightly messy hair. 
 “And you taste fucking amazing,” His words are muffled, almost not daring to remove his mouth as he leaves his tongue everywhere on your pussy, wanting to taste as much of you as possible. He’s eating you out like it is his last meal on earth, and a moan escapes your mouth. 
The straps from your dress hang loosely off your shoulders, exposing just the right amount of your breast, to leave little to no imagination. Yunho is quick to run one of his hands up your stomach to pull the dress down and grab one of your tits. You close your eyes, only to widen them quickly when you feel him insert one of his long fingers inside you. He smirks a little as he looks up at you, seeing how you react to his touches. 
“This fucking dress.. and you don’t even wear a bra under it,” He’s squeezing your tit, slightly pinching your nipple. “You’re so fucking hot.”
You start to feel incredibly sensitive and start closing your legs, but Yunho is quick to let go of your breast and push your legs apart, before devouring your pussy again, while his long finger works in and out of you. 
“Oh, we’re just getting started, sweetheart,” he says, loving the sounds coming from you as you try to keep yourself from screaming in pleasure. “Ready for another one?” He adds another finger to your hole and a gasp escapes through your lips. His long fingers work their way with your pussy and when his lips wrap around your clit, you feel a spark running through your entire body. 
His lips remove themself from your cunt and he pulls you up, still with his fingers deep inside you, and he smashes his lips hard against yours, so you’re able to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 
“Please, Yunho..” you barely got the words out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep you up. 
“Tell me what you want,” he grumbles next to your ear as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you, making sure to have his knuckles pressed hard against your heat every time his fingers go in. 
“I want.. I want you to fuck me.” 
A smirk appears on his lips, finally hearing the words he’d been dreaming of for longer than he imagined. But he wasn’t ready. You weren’t ready.
“You’re so cute. But you’re not ready to take me yet, sweetheart.” 
You slightly pull back to look into his eyes, but when you see the look in his eyes and feel the pressure from another finger being added to your hole, you know that he wasn’t playing around. He has a massive cock, and you are going to be filled. He was preparing you. His free hand pushes your legs further apart and presses your abdomen down on the counter to keep you from moving too much. Your eyes roll back as you use your hands to keep you from lying down, steadying you. 
“Oh my God..” your words are mumbles at this point, and with the speed of his three fingers going in and out, you know you aren’t going to last much longer. “Yunho, I’m going to come.”
As if something switches inside of him, he quickly bends down and starts to eat you out while his fingers work inside you. The feeling of being filled by his long, thin fingers and his tongue sucking on your nub was a feeling you never felt before, and it didn’t take you long to start feeling your orgasm spread through your entire body. Your legs start to shake and you feel yourself crumble under his touch, eyes rolling back and feeling sensitive to every touch he leaves on you.
“So fucking delicious,” The noise of him slurping your juices filled the entire kitchen, “All sensitive and shaky already,” He stood up and pulled you closer to him, pushing some hair behind your ear in a caring manner. “And you don’t even know whats yet to come.. How adorable.” 
Your breathing is fast, not ever experiencing this kind of orgasm. Not even the expensive vibrators you’ve gathered over the years could do it like Yunho. And you wanted more of him.
His fingers left your hole and you looked at them to see them shining and soaked in your juices. He slowly raised his fingers to your mouth, and you sucked them clean. You felt messy, dirty, and sweaty, all thanks to your best friend who just gave you the best orgasm of your life. 
“Such a good little slut,” his eyes locked on your mouth as his fingers smeared across your lips, “My little slut.” His hand grabs the back of your head and presses your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. Another groan leaves his mouth and he slowly moves his lips down your jaw and onto your neck. 
His words send an intense rush through your body, and you never expected to be so turned on by being called a slut. But Yunho knows what he’s doing, he knows you well and you’re probably easy to read because you’re responding to his words by moaning when you feel him kiss your most sensitive spot on your neck. 
Your eyes caught the growing bulge in his gray sweatpants, looking more massive than anything you’ve ever seen. The urge to see it, feel it, taste it is everything on your mind, so you reach out your hand to touch it on top of his sweatpants. A deep groan is heard from the back of his throat as he continues to kiss your neck. 
“You feel that?” He asks, slowly wrapping his fingers around your throat. He looks down at you as you nod, still stroking the outside of his bulge. “You feel what you do to me?” His deep voice whispers in your ear. You wish you could give him the same amount of pleasure he just gave you. He’s standing between your legs, but you wish you could press your thighs together to cause any kind of friction between your legs, even after an intense orgasm. 
Just hearing him talk like this and seeing how big he is, even under his sweatpants, sends sparks through your entire body.
“Let me take care of you too.” You’re practically begging to touch him, feel him. Never have you been so eager to move quicker, but Yunho has you under a spell, and he knows it because a satisfied smile spreads across his lips before he presses his lips on yours. This time was much softer than the other times, starting as a slow kiss and slowly deepening. The hand from your neck moves to your cheeks to deepen it even more, and the warm feeling inside you grows even bigger. 
“Not here, sweetheart.. My first time fucking you won’t be in a kitchen.” His words were so vulgar, but his eyes were full of care and trust. And you don’t trust anyone as much as you trust Yunho, so you nod and he wraps your legs around his waist as he kisses you again. 
Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you feel him remove you from the kitchen island and carry you to your bedroom, still with his lips pressed against yours. Having him basically living with you, seemed to show because he knew the way to the bedroom with his eyes closed and you wrapped around him. 
The soft touch of your madrass was under you as Yunho threw you on the bed and climbed on top of you, never separating your lips. 
“If I knew your lips were this addicting, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he gives you a final deep kiss before standing up beside the bed. “And as much as I love this dress on you, I need you to take it off. Now.” 
You don’t waste a second getting out of the dress, and since you don’t wear a bra under the dress, and Yunho already took off your panties in the kitchen, you are already left naked. Yunho lifts his black t-shirt over his head, throws it on a chair, and is left in the gray sweatpants that still have a big bulge showing. His back muscles tenses as he moves, making him even hotter by the second. He turns around to see you sitting naked on the bed on your knees, hands placed nicely on your thighs, waiting for his instructions. 
A smile spreads on his lips as he runs his eyes over your body, walking closer to you. 
“Look at you.. Beautiful and waiting for me to tell you what to do. You like that?” His hand runs through your hair, sending shivers down your spine. “You like when I call you names? Like sweetheart? or slut?” 
You nod while looking up at him with doe eyes.
His hand grabbed your hair from the back and pulled it down, causing you to look up at him straight. “Use your words.” He demands, looking straight down at you.
“Yes, I love it.” Your answer and a satisfied smile spread on his lips. 
“That’s right, baby.” 
Baby. Once again, his words make you wetter at your heat, so you press your thighs together even more to cause any kind of friction. 
"Now..Before I fuck you,” he lets go of your hair and lightly cubs your cheek. “You’re gonna have to suck my cock. Is that okay, sweetheart?” his tall body towered over you sitting on the bed. His thumb caressed your cheek, letting you know that you’re safe with him and he’d never do anything you wouldn't want. 
You lean into his hand and place a kiss in his palm, before looking up at him to nod. 
“I’d like that.” 
He bends down to kiss you before giving you the next demand. He straightens and you look down to see his massive bulge in the sweatpants, practically fighting to be free. 
“You were so eager to touch it before, so do it.. now.” His voice is stern, and you didn’t hesitate to pull down the sweatpants and his boxers to see his cock spring free. 
His cock is the biggest you’ve ever seen, rock hard and flat against his stomach. Not only is it incredibly long, but also thick. The veins running up and down his shaft are pumping and the tip is glistening with pre-cum. His hand wrapped around it to give it a few strokes, and all you could think about was how that ever was going to fit inside you.
“You alright, sweetheart?” His words make you look into his eyes instead, and a smirk appears when he sees your reaction to his cock. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it fit. Do you trust me?” 
Instead of answering him, you slowly reach out to grab his girth in your hand, feeling how hard and warm he is under your touch. A small gasp escapes through his lips when you start pumping his cock slowly.
The way he’s looking down at you shows so much dominance and power, but he’s still running his hands through your hair and trying to show you as much care as possible, even when having these roles. Keeping that in mind, all of your small concerns go out the window, and you feel a new confidence take over your body, as you feel ecstatic over the idea of sucking his cock the way you have always wanted to.
“Spit.” He demands and it doesn’t take you long to spit on his cock and move your lips to the head, leaking pre-cum. Your hand is pumping his girth while you run your lips over the head of his cock, mixing spit with pre-cum. Given everything Yunho has been doing and saying to you so far, you’re convinced that he’s into the same shit as you, so you decide to go all out. You spit even more on the head of his cock, before trying to take him in your mouth. 
“Holy fuck,” his breathing changes and he makes a small noise from the back of his throat. 
You start to drool on his cock, trying to take as much of him in your mouth as possible. Your lips are stretched all the way, and you’re doubting that you’re able to take all of him, but you’re willing to try.
“Look up at me,” You look up at his command while bobbing your head, feeling pre-cum and spit fall on your chest. “You’re so fucking perfect, you know that?” 
His words make you want to do even better for him, so you try to take even more of his cock into your mouth. You almost make it to the beginning of his shaft, but feel a gagging sensation take over you, but you try to fight it. Tears form in your eyes as you try to breathe through your nose.
Yunho groans then, “Fuck, baby,” he sounds strained. “All these years I spent with you, I didn’t think you were such a cock slut.” 
You finally pull back from him to breathe, feeling spit and pre-come everywhere. In your mouth, on his cock, on your tits, on your hand. It’s messy. After catching your breath, you decide to continue sucking him, and you feel one of his hands rest lightly on the back of your head as he pushes his dick back into your mouth. 
Another groan leaves him as he starts pumping his cock in and out of your mouth. The noises coming from you slurping mix with his ragged breathing. You feel him wrap his hand around a few strands of your hair, helping you bop your head at a comfortable speed. A series of small groans leave him, and his breathing gets faster before he quickly takes a step back.
“Baby.. Hold up,” he pulls his cock out of your mouth and you notice how red the head of his cock is. It’s throbbing and basically begging to come. You wipe the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand to remove the mess you’ve made.
“Was it okay?” You ask, a little confused why he didn’t just come in your mouth. 
He is almost letting out a chuckle as he leans down to kiss your lips. 
“It was.. Out of this world” He caresses your cheek with his thumb and says; “I just want to be inside of you when I come.” He lifts you on your knees, so he can hold you closer. His lips crash against yours, letting him taste himself on his tongue, but he doesn’t mind it. Especially when it comes from your mouth. 
He pulls back and holds your waist with one hand, while he cups the other one right by your mouth.
“Spit.” He instructs again.
You do as he says, still tasting his pre-cum in your mouth when you spit in his hand. He smirks when his hand drops to your pussy and rubs your spit in between your folds. A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling of his fingers running through your folds, and you quickly need him to give you another orgasm, asap. 
As if he knows exactly what you're thinking, he turns you around and pushes you down on the bed, so you land on your front. You’re surprised by his manhandling, but when you feel him bring your ass up in the air to smack it, you’re running with it. 
You’ve never had sex with someone where you didn’t have to tell them what to do or what you liked. But Yunho knew exactly how to please you. It was almost like he knew you better than you knew yourself. 
You feel him plant kisses, bites, hickeys, and smacks on your cheeks, leaving you with a stream of moans and gasps. 
“You’re mine from now on, you understand?” He smacks one of your cheeks and kisses it right after. “I’m going to leave marks on you, so if anyone ever tries something, they will see who you belong to. Got it?” 
His.
The sound of him calling you his was something you only imagined would happen, and never did you think it would feel so good to hear. 
Yunho pulled you out of your thoughts and turned you around, facing up, before he crawled onto the bed and on top of you. You felt his dick press against your pussy as he steadied himself over you.
“I said; Got it?” He asked, and you nodded before quickly responding.
“Got it.” 
“Good girl.” He positioned himself better between your legs, and you could already feel the excitement of him inside of you. “If you want me to go slower or stop, let me know.” Yunho grips his cock in his hand, stroking it a few times before rubbing the tip between your folds. Your hands are on the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. The feeling of his huge cock pressed against your entrance is making you impatient, but when you feel him slowly enter your hole, you’re thankful that he’s taking it slow. 
You wrap your legs around his waist as you feel him stretch you out, and with the help of your spit and your wetness, he slides in a little easier. But you would lie if you said you’ve tried anyone bigger than Yunho. 
“Fuck, you’re tight” He grunts, slowly filling you up more and more. 
It doesn’t take you long to feel full of him. He groans whenever you clench around his cock, taking it as a sign for him to go slower. He’s already going pretty slow, but he would never pressure you. He knew he had a large cock, so it was important for him to make sure you felt good, first of all. 
He stops and you let out the breath of air you didn’t know you held in, feeling his length and trying to accommodate how thick he is.
“You’re taking me so well, baby, but you can take more.” He looks down at you and takes your hand in his, pinning them down next to your head. Yunho lowers down to plant a kiss on your forehead, and you close your eyes, ready for him to continue. 
“I need you to relax for me, baby.” He instructs and you do as he said. Even when you thought you couldn’t fit more of him, he filled you up even more. “That’s right.” His way of switching from calling you “slut” to calling you baby, making you feel cared about, almost loved, was everything you needed. Your hands clench in his, almost scared you will hurt him with the way your nails are digging into the back of his hand.
With a final push, you feel his hips against yours, and a gasp leaves your mouth. You can’t even imagine if he had tried entering you without warming you up with his fingers and getting you so wet first. Never have you been so full, your eyes rolling back at him hitting your spot without nearly doing anything, almost making you cry in pleasure.
“There,” He says, looking down at you. You let go of his hands and pull him down for another kiss. “You’re okay?” 
Instead of answering, you press your heels into his back to make him move and feel if he could enter you a bit more - He could. A smirk appears on his lips and he lets out a groan when you feel him clench around him.
“You’re ready to be fucked like the little slut you are?” You feel him slowly pull out, before pushing inside of you again, trying to make you get used to his size. You couldn’t believe he was fitting inside you. “Has anyone ever fucked you like you wanted? Or have you just been waiting for me?” He smirks as he looks down at you. He leans down, bringing his hands under you to hold you tight and whisper closer to your ear. “I bet you’ve been fantasizing about getting pinned down and fucked for years, haven’t you?”
“Y-Yes.” You manage to say as his speed quickens, and you feel him more and more - even though you didn’t think that was possible. “I’ve been waiting.. for you.”
“You feel so fucking perfect around my cock, don’t you think?” His pace is getting faster and faster, and you can barely get any words out at this point. “You were made for me.”
“Don’t stop, Yunho, please!” You beg, biting down on his shoulder. You feel his breath on your neck, his arms holding you tighter as he continues to fuck you.
“Never,” You hear his smile, and he grabs your waist to turn you both around. Suddenly riding him, sitting on top of his cock makes you feel him deeper than before, and a muffled scream leaves your mouth. The feelings send a shockwave through your body, and you feel yourself fall forward on top of him. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, locking your arms behind your back as he holds you tight against him. 
He can not get deeper in your pussy, so he takes the opportunity to ram his cock deep inside you. He lifts his hips as he’s slamming his cock into your cunt at a fast speed, and the sounds of skin slapping against each other fill the entire house. 
Quickly you feel another orgasm approach, never experiencing an orgasm without having to stimulate your clit. But Yunho is so deep inside of you and rails you so quickly, that it isn’t necessary, “Yunho, please!” 
“Your moans are so beautiful, let everyone hear how good I fuck you,” His one hand holds both of yours behind your back, as he uses the other to hold your head close to his ear. “You’re only gonna take my cock from now on, understand?” His grab on you tightens as he fucks you faster. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum.” 
“Come inside me, please!” You cry out, barely even being able to speak as your mind whitens. He buries his face in your neck while ramming his cock into you at a fast pace. He hits the right spot every time, making your moans consistent. His hard grasp on you somehow makes you feel like you can let go of everything and make him do whatever he wants with you. So when you feel your orgasm approach, you don’t do anything to hold it back. Yunho feels you clench around his dick as you climax, sending him over the edge as well. 
His deep groans hum in your ear as you feel him empty his balls inside you. “Fuck, baby..” 
You feel his warm load spill into you while he holds you tight on top of him, making you take all of it. You feel your heart pumping in your entire body, ragged breaths coming from you as you relax on top of him, and his tight, domestic hold on you becomes a soft and affectionate hug. 
Yunho still being inside you, you seem to find it relaxing laying on top of him in his arms. And if Yunho could, he would stop time and lay here with you for just a little more. As your eyes are closed, you feel him run his fingers through your hair and down your back. One thing you didn’t expect when going on a date today, was ending up having your best friend fuck your brains out till you forgot how to speak. But this somehow felt so right. 
“Are you alright?” His soft voice asks, still with a few gasps left in his voice.
“Uh-huh.” You slightly nod as you open your eyes to see a blur, barely able to use any words. 
“We need to get you cleaned up..” Yunho gently pulls out of you and you collapse on the bed next to him. The last thing you wanted was to stand up and clean yourself, so you just shook your head and closed your eyes again. 
“Soon.. I’m so tired though..” You excuse, still in a haze from the orgasm. You feel Yunho’s hand run through your hair, and the way he’s slowly massaging your scalp, makes your eyes feel even heavier.
“Wait here then.” You hear him say and soon the bed feels empty without him. A few moments later, you hear him enter back in the bedroom and a wet cloth runs over your skin. You’re slowly waking up to feel his hands softly on you, and you look down at him, and your heart flutters at your best friend sitting on the bed next to you. He’s so focused on cleaning you, removing all the dried spit and cum from your chest, stomach and thighs. 
His touch is soft, especially when he slightly parts your legs to clean the most sensitive area, and when he accidentally graces your most sensitive spot, a small moan escapes through your lips. You still feel an incredible sensation around your lower region, so when he quickly looks up at your face to see you’re okay, he tries his best to hide his smile, feeling proud he left you a moaning mess a few minutes ago.
“Sorry..” He whispers as he continues to clean up, making sure to be extra careful. 
The wet cloth is doing its job, and you’re free from any fluid on your body. Your eyes are closed again and you suddenly feel the bed getting heavier next to you. You feel the duvet cover you and an arm wrap around your body to pull you into Yunho’s chest. Your back is flat against his front, and with the warmth of his body, you’ve never felt more safe. 
Slowly drifting off to sleep, you manage to hear a few words before you’re completely out.
“Goodnight, my love.” 
***
The light shines bright in the bedroom, making it hard to see anything when you open your eyes. Everything is a blur, but when you reach out your arm to feel nothing but an empty bed, you’re quickly rubbing your eyes to see clearly. 
There’s a bend in the pillow where Yunho slept, but no Yunho in sight. You pull up the duvet to cover your naked body when you sit up to get a better view of the bedroom. There’s no sound of anyone in your house, and the feeling of slight panic rumbles your stomach.
Did he leave? Did he regret what happened between you and wouldn’t want to see you again?
Just as thoughts start to flood your mind, the bedroom door opens and Yunho enters, tip-toeing into the room, just wearing his gray sweatpants. When he sees you sitting up, panic immediately shows on his face. “Oh shit, sorry, did I wake you?” 
“No no, I was just confused about where you went.” You shake your head, suddenly relaxed to see him this morning.
A smile spreads on his lips and he makes his way to you on the bed. “I’m right here, baby.” He crawls on top and hovers over you before leaning down to kiss your lips. It’s a reassuring kiss that tells you he wouldn’t ever just leave like that. He pulls back after a moment and looks down at you with a soft smile on his face. "Good morning." 
"Good morning." You smile back, not at all used to waking up like this, but you’re not at all mad about it. “So.. Do you usually stay the night after a first date?” You shyly ask while he looks down at you.
“Usually not.” He shrugs with a smirk. “What about you? Do you usually have your first date sleeping over?” 
“Usually not.”
He nods slowly "Interesting.." He bites his lip to hide his smile, but the smile slowly falls off his face and gets replaced by a wrinkle between his brows. He gets quiet, and you wonder what suddenly went through his mind. “I need to tell you something..” 
Your heart suddenly starts pounding, concerned about what he’s going to say. Yunho takes a deep breath, still holding himself up by his arms on each side of your head.
“Look, yesterday was something new for both of us, and we both know how when you’re.. having sex, you feel a lot of emotions, and sometimes blurt out something without actually meaning what you’re saying..” The nervousness is evident in his voice. “I just need you to know that.. the things I said yesterday.. I meant it.” 
You’re completely quiet, just now trying to figure out exactly what he’s talking about.
“I meant when I said I want you to.. be mine. And when I said you're beautiful. And, yeah, I don’t know, I’m just not sure I can go back to being best friends with you, because what we did yesterday.. best friends don’t do that.” The look in his eyes is hard to describe, but there’s a hint of hope. Hope that you perhaps feel the same as him. “I guess I’m trying to say; how about we continue what we started?” 
Voice lowering down to a whisper, he stares down at you with such an expression you want to wrap your arms around him and hug him. The dominating guy he was last night is completely switched to the most precious and small man.
You can’t help but let out a giggle, finding this entire situation cute. “I’d love that.” 
The wrinkle between his brows immediately disappears and he releases a breath he didn’t know he held. 
“Yeah?” He asks with a huge smile on his face.
“Yeah.” You nod.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Fireworks are exploding in both of you as he leans down and kisses you with such intensity, he wants to fill out all the space that separates you from him. He wants you as close as possible, and he’s sure he’s never going to get tired of hearing you giggle.
Moving his lips against yours, you never imagined how right this would feel. He pulls away, but only to lay down next to you and pull you towards him. Placing your head on his chest, he wraps both of his arms around you to hold you close. The feeling of safety and warmth is burning from every cell of you, and you never want to feel this with anyone else but Yunho.
Yunho kisses the top of your head occasionally as you both lay there, just enjoying the silence and each other’s company. But you can’t help but say what's on your mind.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have to start getting ready.” You say, and he immediately tightens his grab around you.
“Five more minutes, then I’ll let you go.” He mumbles against your head.
Sigh.. “But I have to shower.”
He’s quiet for a short moment before looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “Shower?” He asks like he has something on his mind. You nod and he looks away shyly before getting the courage to say what he’s thinking. “I mean.. Since we’ve decided to upgrade our friendship to dating, I guess it wouldn’t be weird to.. you know.. shower together?”
Butterflies take over your entire body, and you try your best to hide your smile. Yunho and you don’t have anything to hide from each other anymore, so a shower would be innocent compared to what you two did last night. You look up to meet his eyes, slightly shrugging. “I guess you’re right.”
Just when you thought his smile couldn’t get bigger, his eyes wrinkled from the smile and he gets all energetic like a puppy you just offered to take on a walk.
“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asks, making sure.
“Sure.” You downplay how badly you actually want to do this. You want to do everything with Yunho, because the two of you just opened so many doors of possibilities, and you can’t wait to share every moment with him.
A giggle leaves his mouth and he kisses you passionately. “I’ll go get it ready for us.” The smile does not leave Yunho’s mouth as he pulls his t-shirt over his head, and he finds your robe in your dresser. He’s running around the room, getting stuff ready to bring to the bathroom, smiling and giggling nonstop.
“What?” You can’t help but ask.
His eyes dart to you before he runs over to kiss you one last time before heading to the bathroom to prepare the shower for the two of you.
“I'm just so happy”
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successfulgoddess333 · 6 months ago
Text
WHAT REALLY IS THE VOID STATE?
Hi baby
The 3D reality that you’re currently experiencing
Right now is the physical reality
The physical plane
The Void State is just the natural state of consciousness
The most purest form of you
You are not just physical
You are not just a physical being
You are not just a body
You are more than that
You are walking pureness
You are walking consciousness
You are a walking soul
Everything about who you really truly are is
The inside
From your soul
To your subconscious mind to the void state
THAT is who you are
Your body is a result of the 3D
It being a physical reality
You right now are in the state of the 3D physical awareness
In the void, that is the state of pure awareness outside the 3D
In the void state you are no longer in your 3D physical reality
Where your body is
You are pure peace
You are pure love
Just energy
Manifesting in this pure state is possible
Anything you want from changing your past
Having your desired facial features
To waking up with millions of dollars
Is all possible
Everything that happens here
Your worries frustrations
Problems
That exam you fear failing
Your Sp having you blocked
Your crush avoiding you
To your family causing you hell
Not having privacy
Hating your body
Being ignored by friends
Being bullied
Etc etc
Whatever it is you’re going through
Becomes nonexistent when you enter the void state
At some point if your life you ignore the 3D
When you close your eyes to listen to music or to meditate when you watch tv and you’re fully invested in
With your friends or boyfriend or girlfriend
Etc etc
These little moments where your only focus is that one thing or person
This is how easy it is to lose awareness of the 3D
Because we’re always doing it
We’re always in our heads daydreaming
In the Void state you exist only as purely consciousness
You to not exist in the 3D in that moment
Because life itself is one big awareness
You’re here because you’re aware that you exist
You’re alive you know you are
Entering the void is just becoming aware that you are more than a physical body and that everything physical from you in this reality is a result
Think of the void as
When you were first born
Because the void is our original home
This why the Void state IS our home
You’re just going home
Getting the things you want from that house
And coming back here
Like you left your second home(3D) to go get your things(desires) from your original home
The 3D is also our home but it’s not the original one
What can you manifest from the void?
You can manifest from winning the lottery to going to the 2025 Met Gala as a Singer or Model
You can travel to the future or past
Get fairy wings
Shift to a billion realities
Astral project
Always lucid dream
Create portals in those lucid dreams
Change your entire life the exact way you want it
Be famous
Be an astronaut
A college graduate
Affirm you’re the master manifester
That you always get in the void in like 30 second
Change your whole appearance from your body to your skin color to where you were born to your eye color
You can even change your family
Or change your pets
Revise your past
Bring a pet back from the dead
Etc etc
And the best part is
Is that
Is happens when you want it to happen
You want it instantly
You’re gonna wake up with your desires
You are more powerful than you think
The 3D is physical and you are more than physicality
You are way up
You look down at the 3D
There’s no time in the void so obviously you can alter your life to be in a certain time period
If you wanna shift to 2011 to get one direction go for it!
Don’t be scared of the void
It’s you
Why wouldn’t YOU keep you safe?
You’re at your most purest form there’s nothing to be afraid of
Just BE
Breathe until you feel disconnected then just affirm count etc
Symptoms are your bodies reaction to you disconnecting from the physical plane
Ignore it
Because they’re physical
Customize your void it doesn’t have to be pitch black!
The void state is your home
Go home tonight
Get your desires
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493 notes · View notes
junabuggy · 8 months ago
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Hazbin Hotel crew x Reader: general fluff hcs
A/n: 100+ follower special !!
I’ve been doing a lot of headcanons lately so I pinky promise there’ll be some kind of oneshot coming soon 🙏
Warnings: None !! Just some good old fashioned fluff :3
Fluff✔️ Comfort❌ Angst❌ Smut❌
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‧₊˚✧ Alastor ✧˚₊‧
📻𖤐 When Alastor forms a close bond with you (and I’ve mentioned this before), he’d want to spend more time with you. Even if that’s just sitting in silence together and reading your own separate books
📻𖤐 Who knows? Maybe he’d let you lean against him, head on his shoulder, as he reads to you?
📻𖤐 This guys primary love language is quality time for sure. A close second perhaps acts of service.
📻𖤐 Biggest mamas boy ever…. But I’m sure we all knew that already
📻𖤐 LOVES to go on walks with you, especially during the afternoon or at night.
📻𖤐 Would link your arm with his and chat with you as you went on your daily stroll together… you’re not quite sure when it became a routine but it did.
📻𖤐 Huuuggeee story teller
📻𖤐 100% laughs at dad jokes and will also make them from time to time
📻𖤐 Always winning every single IDGAF war because he genuinely, wholeheartedly, just doesn’t give two shits 💀💀
📻𖤐 Can’t swim. I don’t know how to explain why I think this but I just KNOW its true
📻𖤐 Freezes like a deer in headlights (quite literally) when you shine a bright enough light at him
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‧₊˚✧ Angel Dust ✧˚₊‧
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Angel would be the absolute BEST at giving out hugs oh my goddd, he’s got six arms for a reason, baby !
🕸️ᥫ᭡ I feel like he’d have fun dancing !! (I mean “Loser, Baby” was enough evidence for me)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Competitive as fuck, UNO would actually be so fun with him 😭 (gets so genuinely excited when he wins too, gloating about it and everything like he just won the lottery)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Biggest shoplifter ever and most of the time it’s not even because he can’t afford it, he just does it for fun.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Smells realllyyy good all the time, he’s got the best perfumes ever
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Spa-days/Self-care days quickly become a Saturday night thing for you two once you become one of his besties. And I’m talking the whole shabang like face masks, candles lit and snack tray out as he paints your nails for you 💕
🕸️ᥫ᭡ It’s something Angel genuinely looks forward to as well (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄⩊ᵒ̴̶̷᷅)
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Primary love language is most likely physical touch, we’ve all seen how touchy he can get 🤞
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Getting to know his real name and getting to call him by it means he trusts you a lot, he doesn’t give that privilege out to just anybody.
🕸️ᥫ᭡ On a less serious note, he’s definitely a huge show off 💀💀
🕸️ᥫ᭡ Amazing at doing makeup, will do your makeup if you asked him to (might accidentally poke you in the eye or something though lmfaoo)
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‧₊˚✧ Husker ✧˚₊‧
🍺🃁 Needs glasses and HAS them but just doesn’t wear them for whatever reason. He looks good in them though !!
🍺🃁 Cheats in any card game ever. Wins 9/10 against you because of that reason (he’s also a gambler so that’s a big factor as well obviously)
🍺🃁 Bros the type of guy to call you “doll” and “baby”
🍺🃁 Primary love language?? quality time 🙏 🙏acts of service and physical touch are both tied for second place (but you only ever really get the physical touch one if you’re his s/o)
🍺🃁 Again, we all saw “Loser, Baby” this mf can DANCE and he enjoys it too
🍺🃁 Jazz is one of Huskers favourite music genres for sure
🍺🃁 You two don’t really have a routine hangout type thing but he does enjoy it when you come around to the bar to just hang out with him while he cleans and whatnot :3
🍺🃁 Trust, you will be given a specialized nickname just for you once he considers you a close friend of his.
🍺🃁 He’s a great listener but gives very blunt advice, doesn’t sugarcoat shit if you ask him for his opinion on something.
🍺🃁 Weirdly caught up with mental health stuff, like he knows a lot about it
🍺🃁 Poor Husker does NOT like the cat noises he makes but he literally cannot control them 😭😭 (believe me, he’s tried)
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‧₊˚✧ Vaggie ✧˚₊‧
🗡️☪︎ Vaggie is NOT a morning person, usually sleeps in until around noon
🗡️☪︎ Would have good fashion taste
🗡️☪︎ Vaggie is also a very competitive UNO player, probably ends up yelling at Alastor for making her pick up all those “pick up four” cards when everyone plays together (yes, he looks smug as fuck while doing it and yes he was saving them just for her 💀💀)
🗡️☪︎ Has beef with almost all of the guys at the hotel but Husker is chill for the most part
🗡️☪︎ Adding onto that last one, it doesn’t really take much for a man to piss her off tbh (she’s so real for this)
🗡️☪︎ Would spar with you if you asked and gets really into it too !! She’s careful not to actually hurt you though and it’s a great way of bonding with her (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
🗡️☪︎ Verrryyyyy jealous girl, remember when Emily took Charlie’s hands in the heaven episode?? (The look on her face made me giggle)
🗡️☪︎ Hates pickles. She just looks like she’d be a pickle hater
🗡️☪︎ Primary love language is words of affirmation
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‧₊˚✧ Charlie ✧˚₊‧
⭐️☀︎ Charlie is infact a morning person and wakes up at the crack of dawn everyday for zero reason whatsoever 💀
⭐️☀︎ She does her absolute best to include everyone in every activity going on, she doesn’t ever want anybody in the hotel to feel excluded
⭐️☀︎ Biggest shipper EVER. You ever told her you have a crush on someone here?? Oh god..
⭐️☀︎ She’ll silently fan girl from a distance whenever you and your crush are together to the point Vaggie has to drag her away
⭐️☀︎ Charlie can be a little bit overwhelming at times but her happiness is suppeerrr contagious
⭐️☀︎ The best way to spend time and bond with her?? Literally just offer to do anything with her and she’ll do it, I don’t think she’s too picky
⭐️☀︎ Learnt some Spanish from Vaggie and tries to use it with her to be all romantic but her pronunciations are fucked up (She’s trying her hardest guys okay 😞🙏)
⭐️☀︎ Totally asked Vaggie one time as a pick up line if she fell from heaven and she broke out into a sweat (poor girl)
⭐️☀︎ Primary love language is words of affirmation. quality time is somewhere up there too though
⭐️☀︎ Will break out into song a lot and it’s kinda funny to watch
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‧₊˚✧ Niffty ✧˚₊‧
🧼𐙚 Acts a lot like a hyperactive toddler on crack. Has zero chill and it’s pretty rare to see her actually calm
🧼𐙚 I think Niffty lowkey has stage freight, like we all see how she just automatically freezes up when a camera is on (I mean it’s happened twice in the show already)
🧼𐙚 Takes a lot after Alastor, sees him as some sort of older brother figure as well 😞🩵
🧼𐙚 When playing UNO, she’d fucking EAT the cards so she’d win. Deadass just nom nom nom that shit
🧼𐙚 She’s a big giggler, she’ll laugh and giggle at almost everything so it’s not hard to get her to do so
🧼𐙚 She’d probably really enjoy it if you let her just sit with you for a while and braid your hair (But she’d steal some for her “collection” in the process)
🧼𐙚 I’m actually not too sure what Nifftys love language would even be? Perhaps acts of service (she is a maid, after all)
🧼𐙚 Okay 99% sure this is actually canon but she’s a hardcore germophobe, can’t handle when things are cluttered or a mess.
🧼𐙚 Has a collection of cleaning supplies in her room
+ Bonus !!
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‧₊˚✧ Vox ✧˚₊‧
📺☆ Whenever Vox is sleeping or thinking really hard about something, the voxtek symbol will bounce around on his screen like the DVD logo thing
📺☆ Not very big on pda, he has an image to uphold, after all. (But he would enjoy affection in private though)
📺☆ Not above watching you through whatever technology you have, he spies on you a lot 💀💀
📺☆ Also guys…… stop pretending Vox isn’t a whiny little bitch, because he is (trust me y’all, read some of @bigfatbimbo’s stuff)
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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲
1K notes · View notes
neptunezo · 7 months ago
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Out of the blue, Bruce announces to the batfam, that he does, in fact, have a favorite child. He proposes a challenge, that anyone who can guess the favorite child gets first dibs on Alfreds cooking for a whole month (practically winning the lottery) so the batkids are now invested.
Damian immediately guesses Dick, fully under the impression that he’s right and Bruce is just trying to play mind games with them. Damian was incorrect.
Dick guesses Jason after finding out it’s not him, he was wrong, it’s not Jason.
Now Jason is intrigued, he’s noticed Tim still hasn’t guessed but is probably analyzing everything. Knowing Tim takes awhile (even if he is always correct) Jason goes ahead and guesses anyways, completely confident in his answer. Jason guesses Duke, he is incorrect.
Babs, knowing she isn’t one of Bruces kids so she doesn’t count for this challenge (because if she did it would obviously be her) she guesses Damian, the obvious choice. His biological son. Bruce smirks and shakes his head.
Duke guesses Tim, an answer that would make the most sense. I mean, Tim is practically Bruce 2.0, but he isn’t the favorite child.
Suddenly it clicks, Tim is now frustrated it took him so long to see. Obviously the favorite is Cass, who else could it be?? Tim almost has a tantrum when told he was wrong.
Now everyone is confused, they’ve gone through all of his kids. Tim doesn’t know why he hasn’t solved this puzzle yet. He looks for more clues and sees Cass wearing a ring. An engagement ring. The same one Steph is also wearing. It finally makes sense.
“I know who it is,” Tim brags. “But I’ve already used my guess, so Cass, please do the honors.”
Cass then points to Stephanie. Bruce has the biggest grin on his face as his nods. This is how they all find out that Cass and Steph are getting married.
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metalhoops · 2 years ago
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‘Of course, I remember you.’ 
As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 
To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 
Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.
Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 
He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 
Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 
His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 
There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 
There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 
He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 
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Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 
‘You might not remember me’. 
What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 
It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?
He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 
He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 
When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 
Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 
It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 
“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 
“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 
“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 
Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 
“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 
“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 
They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 
“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 
He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  
“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 
Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 
“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 
Holy shit.
“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 
Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 
Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.
They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 
“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 
“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 
“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 
“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 
Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 
“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 
Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,
“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 
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fatescaprice · 9 months ago
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hiiiii ☀️ can i ask for something about aventurine and the reader who is part of the express family (not trailblazer) ? it can be some love at first sight thing, or maybe where they meet again in penacony and turns out they both had some hidden past with eachother b4🤭 of course, you can choose whatever storyline to go with as well with this reader🤍 thank uuuu
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aventurine and a nameless reader
content warnings: vague penacony spoilers
note: hello anon!! i went with the second option since i just looove reunions ... i had a lot of fun writing this but i also had to google how a lottery works ... i'm embarrassed ... i hope you enjoy!
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You and AVENTURINE had met ages before he became a bigshot at the IPC, back when he was doing Aeons-know-what to scrape by. Whether you were friends or rivals or had to use every fibre in your body to keep yourself from insulting him on sight, you eventually parted ways and both, quite reasonably, assumed that you would never see each other again — the universe was far too big for that, after all. He saw you off as you boarded the Astral Express, and resigned himself to thinking that your meeting was little more than a lucky draw.
That is, of course, until you run into each other by chance in the lobby of the Reverie. He doesn’t pay you much attention at first, but his eyes end up wandering to you almost against his will as he sorts out your grey friend’s room issue. When did you change your hair? Did your voice always have that kind of cadence? His customer-service smile turns a tad more genuine as he turns to you once it’s over and your friends had dispersed within the lobby. “What a pleasant surprise,” he drawls. “Long time no see, huh?”
Aventurine offers to catch up over drinks, if you’re so inclined. Time is money, but that’s how you normally celebrate making new friends and reuniting with old ones, isn’t it? He’ll treat you to whatever you like while you tell him about your travels.
Even after he gets his own business sorted, he can’t help but notice how you two seem to keep running into each other, as if by little twists of fate. Your room across from his, the sound of you laughing with your pink-haired friend in the lobby, the sight of your back as you wander around the Golden Hour.
If fate keeps bringing you together, Aventurine would be a fool to not capitalise on it, wouldn’t he? He’s quick to slink over to your side and suggest a wager: “You look lonely,” he’ll say, rolling a coin back and forth over his knuckles. “Say, if I win big at the lottery over there, how about we spend the rest of the day together? We can even call it a date if you like.”
It’s a bit of an unfair bet, all things considered — he doesn’t often make bets he can’t win, and while it’s little surprise to him as he claims his prize, he also takes the time to relish in your surprised expression. What, did you really think he would lose? Don’t be silly. Now, tell him what you want to do — he’s already planning an itinerary in his head before work inevitably drags him away that evening.
Even as you two spark up another conversation (What’ve you been up to all this time? Got any travel destinations he might like?) he can’t tell you the whole truth, not yet — but in the meantime he can wrap one arm around your waist just like this, and watch how the dreamscape tints your eyes a shade of the most opulent gold.
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pumpkinbxtch · 7 months ago
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Hi! Could you please do another lester x reader? Doesn’t matter what it’s about. There’s barely anything on this app😭😭
one penny is enough .⁠。⁠*
— apollo x fem!reader
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warnings: none
a/n: Hello, I have your back. Thanks for stopping by. Mwuah 💕
— Make a wish! — You gave those little hops with the tips of your toes and shook your boyfriend's shoulders.
— A wish? — Apollo said, fixing his gaze on that fountain. In the middle was a stone basin where the coins piled up with the others, he assumed that was the target to aim for.— Which god rules over this sort of thing?
You let out a groan and shook him impatiently.
—Lester! — He smiled hearing one of his names come out of your mouth. He turned fully to you and held you by the waist, his other hand traveled from your shoulder to the palm of your hand where you held the penny.
—I do it with...— He tossed the coin and heard the splash of water. He had hit the mark. — ...eyes closed, see?
Unlike what he expected, you frowned and gave him a gentle push with your body.
— You were supposed to wish for something, silly.— You pouted, watching your only shot settle with the other coins.
He held your body tighter and made you look into his eyes, his blue eyes like the sky above you.
— What else could I wish for when I already have you? — He smiled with a look full of love and gently bumped noses with you. You bit your lip and gently squeezed the fabric of his shirt.
— Liar, you forgot to ask for something.
He laughed and kissed you sweetly. He migrated his lips to your red cheeks to press another small kiss.
— I'm serious, what else could I ask for?
You pursed your lips and hummed as if thinking.
— I wanted to win the lottery.
Apollo brought his hand to his chest pretending to be offended.
— I can give you all the riches you want! — He extended his hand and conjured up a gold ingot. You wrinkled your nose.
— No, in cash.
And he turned the gold ingot into bills.
— With a little extra change.
And the sound of coins falling from his palm rang out instantly. Whatever you wanted, however you wanted it, he would give it to you.
You smiled triumphantly and took just one coin. Just what you wanted. Apollo realized you had used him.
— You could have just asked for one!
— And where's the fun in that? — You admired the gleam of the metal, pretending to ignore your boyfriend.
— I should have known! — He made the entire fortune disappear and crossed his arms.
You chuckled and handed him the coin again.
—Make a wish.
The blond looked at you tenderly. He had wasted your only shot and you were extending the coin to him again. He felt like he didn't deserve you.
He took a breath, closed his eyes, and then tossed it. Again he hit the mark.
— Did you wish for something?
— That we always be together.
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gothicflowers · 5 months ago
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Listen, Alex has been consuming my brain for weeks. It’s a whole issue (it’s not an issue, I love it really). So can I get something that’s maybe a little darker with him? Doesn’t have to be too dark, just maybe showing that side that isn’t the golden retriever we all love. Maybe a little more of that something that makes him such a good CIA operative.
Something protective/possessive perhaps? Can be NSFW or not, totally up to you.
Also, I hope you’re doing well! I know what it’s like to just need a distraction and get out of your head for a bit 💙
(MDNI +18)
Sorry this took me forever but I’ve been fighting waves of ADHD paralysis that even my meds cant fight. And I’m doing a little better, not fully healthy but I’m getting there❤️
ALEX KELLER IS A GOLDEN RETRIEVER.
At least that’s what he lets you see.
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Because he doesn’t want you to know how dark and dirty he can be. Your family is fully convinced that he is the perfect man, which he truly is. Always getting you flowers and planning dates or small getaways. You clearly won the lottery with Alex. You see Alex as a night in shining armor, a kiss from the stars.
But Alex sees you as the dusk sky, beautiful colors that light up the sky before the light disappears. Soft delicate hands to hold, no blood or dirt under your nails. Your voice is the crackling of a fireplace in deep December snow that warms his soul. You’re the flower that blooms from the spring frost after he tills the ground with his bare hands.
Alex has fought for too long and shed too much blood in the name of justice and peace for anything to take away the one pure thing the universe owes him. You.
But sometimes dispute all his training and good intentions you see small glimmers of what Alex could be if he didn’t keep himself in check. Sometimes it’s in the way you end up bent over the counter with his fingers laced tightly in your hair as he rants on about this little bitchy attitude you’ve had since you woke up. He knows you love it and it feeds a dark pit of control that burns for you. Every thrust making you gasp. All Alex can grunt out of his gritting teeth is MINE. MINE. MINE. And is he gonna let you come? No. Not unless your pretty little eyes are welling with lust and love filled tears begging to cum. He’ll eventually let go of your hair and hold you by the jaw and let you confess that you just needed some dick, and he’s the only one that can satisfy your craving. Such a sweet thing, such perfection, so delicate.
Alex doesn’t mind letting other guys how possessive he can get. He didn’t like that guy that keep trying to dance with you at the bar. It’s surely a coincidence that guy slipped and hit his head on the sink. Other times it’s simply staring them down with a look that even Simon wouldn’t mess with.
When your ex tried to weasel their way back into your heart they abruptly stopped. They sent flowers, chocolates, jewelry, everything they could think of to win you back. You figured they finally got the message that you didn’t want them. But in reality your ex came home to a large envelope packed full of evidence of everything they’ve ever done, things you never knew about. Paired with a simple note “leave what is mine alone or else”.
Alex never wants you to know about what he truly does. Would you ever hold his hand again knowing how blood stained they are? Would those soft lips still say I love you? Despite his pure intentions he knows not all of his orders he’s been given were good. So he just tells you he works in surveillance. It eases your mind thinking he’s hiding on a roof somewhere, not down in a gunfight.
When he comes home after an extended time away you’re distraught with worry that he lost his leg. You will die never knowing the truth about what went down that day.
It’s not always that he wants to keep you in the dark, but sometimes it’s just truly classified information that you can’t know. And shouldn’t, it would give you nightmares. This man could rewrite history books if he shared what he knows.
Alex keeps hidden security cameras around the house. You don’t even realize they’re installed. He’s got extensive knowledge of technology and he used it to his advantage. He’s very good about keeping you a secret from his job but sometimes on those late nights he just needs to see you sleeping peacefully at home. And yes there is a tracker on your phone. Can’t lose track of his sweet little angel.
Everyone highly underestimates him. Too soft hearted, too eager, too naïve. The way his eyes darken and chest heaves as he stands covered in someone else’s blood shocks a room of experienced soldiers. A version of a man they rarely see, a version of a man you don’t know. Yet that version of him is who checks the house when he hear something at night. The version who corrects people who speak to you rudely. The version that growls in your ear from behind as your bodies tangle. The version who got rid of all of your problems. The Alex that will pull the earth apart and unleash hell to create a heaven on earth for you alone.
Alex is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
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astrosky33 · 2 years ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄
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◉ 𝐉𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your beauty. You may be blessed with good looks and get many opportunities because of your beauty
》 Your personality. You likely are blessed with an amazing personality that makes others want to be around you all the time and that can help to give you many opportunities in life
》 Your body. You may have the ideal body type according to society
》 Your confidence. You may have a lot of confidence which can grant you many opportunities in life
Celebrity Example: Rihanna
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your finances. This doesn’t always mean you’ll be wealthy but that in times where you need money the most in life it will naturally come to you. It can also mean you’ll receive major opportunities involving money
》 Financial security. You may have been born into a family that’s wealthy or upper middle class and never struggles with money
》 Your singing voice. You may have been born with an amazing singing voice that will grant you many amazing opportunities in life
Celebrity Example: Kylie Jenner
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your siblings. You may have been blessed with amazing siblings who help you a lot in life
》 Your social media. You may be granted with many opportunities in life involving your social media presence
》 Your mind. You may be granted with a lot of intelligence or some type of talent involving your mind (ex: photographic memory, human calculator, etc)
》 Your comedic ability. You may be really funny
Celebrity Example: Jim Carrey
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your family. You may have been blessed with an amazing family (this could be the one you’re born into or the one you make). Your family may also have connections that can bless you
》 Your house. You may receive blessings in life involving the homes you purchase
》 Your titties. You may have really nice or big tits
Celebrity Example: Billie Eilish
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your talents. Typically people with this placement have an abundance of talents but especially involving entertainment. You are more likely to receive opportunities in life for your talents than others. Many actors have this placement
》 Winning money. This is a big indication of winning money from the lottery, gambling, contests, etc.
》 Your children. Your children may receive many opportunities in life and be very blessed
Celebrity Example: Miley Cyrus
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your health. You may have been blessed with amazing health
》 Fitness. You may receive major opportunities in life involving fitness/exercise
》 Your analytic nature. You may easily be able to understand people/pick up on their vibes more than others due to your analyzation skills
Celebrity Example: Serena Williams
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your relationships. You may receive blessings through people you date. This can also mean you may date a lot of people
》 Negotiations. You may have been blessed with the ability to negotiate with people which could give you a lot of major opportunities in life. Many lawyers have this placement
》 Your business partners. Your business partners may help you receive lots of major opportunities in life
Celebrity Example: Marylin Monroe
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Inheritance. You may be blessed with or inherit something from someone at some point in your life. If you’re romantically interested in men then this is an indication of marrying a wealthy husband
》 Your d*ck/p*ssy. You may be blessed with p star d*ck or p*ssy
》 Mystery/death. You may be blessed with an ability to talk to your relatives that have passed or you may be really good at solving crimes
Celebrity Example: Zoe Kravitz
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Wisdom/intelligence. You may be blessed with a very wise and intelligent brain and be someone who can learn very easily
》 Your in-laws. You may receive lots of major opportunities in life through your in-laws
》 College/Uni. You likely will receive lots of blessings and major opportunities in life from going to a college/university
》 Television/media. You may get lots of major opportunities in life that involve being on tv or involved in media
Celebrity Example: Albert Einstein
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your career. You likely will receive lots of blessings surrounding your career
》 Fame. You may receive lots of major opportunities because of your fame. This is also an indication of being mega famous
》 Your father. You may receive lots of major opportunities in life because of your father
》 Your boss/bosses. At some point one of your bosses that you work for may bless you or bring a major opportunity into your life
Celebrity Example: Lady Gaga
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your friends/friend groups/connections. You likely have been blessed with amazing friends or you may receive major opportunities in life because of your friends/connections
》 Your wealth. The 11th house represents financial gains so this is an indication of being blessed with wealth at some point in your life
》 Technology. You may receive major opportunities in life that involve technology
Celebrity Example: Zendaya
𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
》 Your spirit guides. If you believe in spirit guides this can indicate you’ve been blessed with a lot of spirit guides that bring major opportunities into your life
》 Mental health. You may have been blessed with really good mental health
》 Your spiritual knowledge. You may have been blessed with becoming very spiritually woke in some way or you may receive major opportunities surrounding spirituality
》 Psychic abilities. You may have been blessed with some type of psychic ability. I’ve noticed many people that have this placement have dreams that predict their future often
Celebrity Example: Justin Bieber
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𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁
𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗼𝗻- 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗆𝖾 𝟣𝟢 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗌
𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁
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© 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝
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writingdirectory · 2 years ago
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Notes from a 5-day creative writing course:
Motivation
Make it a habit. That way, each time that familiar voice of self-doubt makes its appearance, it’ll be easier to ignore it, because writing will become something that you do-your thing-and you’ll gain confidence in it.
Visit your novel every single day. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to write something every day. You could outline the plot, or write character portraits, or draw a special part of your world. Your subconscious will work on your story even when you don’t. So, each time you visit the story consciously, you’ll find that things have developed in the story.
Manage the time of writing in a way that it is manageable for you. (It can be that one hour between classes or your lunch break or the morning before you go to work or at night before you sleep - Schedule it in a way that suits you and then, be serious about it.
Set a goal. For example, 100 or 500 words a day.
Character Development, Word Choice & Description
At first, characters incarnate ideas. A poor man who wins the lottery, a young boy who travels to a magical land. As we develop the story, they become people - real people with backgrounds and unique choices.
Ways we perceive character: through actions, thoughts (conflict), dialogue, interactions with others.
Bring intentionality to the representation of a character.  Don't give arbitrary information.
How a character reacts is a question of how you want to represent them through all those multiplicities that are dialogue, actions, interactions, etc.
Characters always want something. They are never static. With wants come obstacles and transformation.
Create tension between what a characters thinks, feels and says. For example, set external confidence and internal fear and then change that as the story develops. Characters can also be comfortable or scared depending on the situation.
Explore complexity. How a character talks to their lover is different from how they talk to their friends and family.
Give secondary characters a characteristic beyond their function to make them more prominent.
Make a hierarchy out of characters.
Exercise: Write the portrait of a character, how you would introduce them in the story and a description of them from a character that a) likes them and b) dislikes them.
Word Choice. When it starts sounding like writing, cut it out - Kill your darlings. Example: The car was spotted with rust - shows the car. As opposed to: The car was acned with rust - shows the writing. Sometimes a more refined word works against the object/image.
Description: Don’t just put in details. The details need to be significant for the image you want the reader to see.
Don’t use metaphors and lyricism in the expense of clarity. Be precise. Metaphors and similes should fit the narrative and not distract the reader. For example, saying “He barked like a dog” sounds fine, but if there are no dogs in your world, it is out of place and breaks the narrative. Be specific. Name things. Don’t be vague. Precision grounds your fiction.
Determine if you need static or lively description. Lively description is when you describe things through actions. Like “She passed her fingers through her blond hair”, instead of “Her hair was blond”.
Sense of authenticity. When you describe a place precisely, you gain your reader’s trust. A column is different from a golden column. That kind of attention gives a sense of authority and makes the narrative convincing.
Parts of description: smell, sound, sight, taste, touch, temperature, pressure.
Dialogue & POVs
Dialogue a) informs the character, b) moves the story forward, c) develops relationships between characters.
Dialogue isn’t just about how people talk.
What’s said can suggest what isn’t being said.
Use dialogue interspersed with description and visuals.
Choose the POV that suits your story.
(From David Lodge, ‘The Art of Fiction’.) A fictional story is unlikely to engage our interest unless we know whose story it is. Even with an “omniscient” narrative method, the writer should privilege one or two “points of view”. An objective approach may be a worthy aim in journalism, but not in fiction.
Pros and cons of 1st person POV. Pros: personal and direct, immediacy, intimacy, immediate credibility, easier to build character. Cons: limited, biased, unreliable, writing can become simplistic. When writing in 1st person, keep in mind that characters change, hence their perception changes. That has to be obvious in the narrative.
Pros and cons of 3rd person limited POV. Pros: thoughts can still be on the page, flexibility, wider view of the world, more complex language can be used (usually we think in simple words, so complex writing might sound pretentious and out of place in 1st person POV). Cons: distance (he/she).
GOD MODE. Or, commonly, 3rd person omniscient. You can jump in and out of characters’ minds, but there’s a danger when writing with such freedom. Be aware of structural harmony. Don’t write 10 pages in Sally’s POV and then jump into omniscient.
Use free indirect speech (1st person thoughts in italicized form, eg. No!) to eliminate the distance in 3rd person POVs.
Change POV with reason. Don’t suddenly jump to another POV just because it is interesting. Plan it. Make the change of the POV deliberate and make the reason clear.
Give equal weight to all POVs.  
Setting
The setting of a story is mediated through a character’s experience. It amplifies the theme. It shouldn’t be an arbitrary decision. The setting can make achievements more difficult for characters.
For children, places have magical properties, they are places of significance. The place of someone’s childhood can transform later in the novel, because the character has transformed. There’s a fluidity of meaning attached to places. But keep in mind that, places don’t change. Characters do.
How a character views a place is stated through the language we use.
When writing about a place that exists, have fidelity at the facts.
Editing
Be open to ideas changing.
If it’s not working after 3-4 rewrites, cut it out!
Make sentences active. Things don’t happen to characters. They do things.
Pay attention to rhythm.
Every sentence needs to have a reason to be there.
Usually, we overwrite in dialogue. Use context. Dialogue should be suggestive, rather than explicit.
Edit backwards, because perfectionism kicks in at the beginning.
Isolate. Edit single parts of the story. A chapter, a scene.
Read aloud. It will help find long sentences, pretentious words and unreadable language.
When words become over-familiar, put it down, give it to someone else to read.  
What to look out for: a) Character confusion. Make sure minor characters are introduced properly and find subtle ways to remind your readers who they are. b) Too much exposition. c) Plot holes, inconsistencies - there must rational reasons for coincidences, you must be able to provide logical and credible reasons behind the actions of a character. d) Over-written description.
What to do when editing: cut things out, put new things in, change sentence order and structure, look for repeated words, strengthen verbs (or prune), expand, trim, look for continuity errors, change order of events, introduce a delay in the reveals, rewrite using another POV or tense, determine if each sentence is pulling its weight.
Techniques: a) Prune. Delete text you don’t need. b) Isolate repetitions and delete or substitute with synonyms (look out for pretentious words). c) Cut and paste paragraphs to change order and rearrange. d) write a whole new draft, only looking to the previous one for factual material. e) Use a reader.
Bibliography
Hills Like White Elephants, by Ernest Hemingway (suggestive dialogue)
Concrete Island., by J.J. Ballot (how setting makes goals harder to achieve)
Driving Through Sawmill Towns, by Les Murray (lyricism, setting)
The Art of Fiction, by David Lodge (POV)
The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald
On Writing, by Stephen King
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thisdayindnphistory · 3 months ago
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This has been in my drafts for a few months now and now I see it all over my feed. I have been on this hill for so long .
this might be batshit crazy but i feel like they’re hard launching during the tour. not publicly but just on stage at every date. somehow some way.
and i know i know they’ve already hard launched, if they were a straight couple it wouldn’t be like this, you’d have to be blind to not see that they’re a couple Yes i know all of that and im on board with that 1000%. but like ive been waiting for a Solid hard launch since 2014 and im gonna fucking get it okay this is just entertainment for me
They would not ever do it through a youtube video that’s sooo obvious and yt doesn’t pay that much and they wanna capitalize off a hard launch so bad. and of course not through an ig story or post thats lame they’d make zero money on that. but a tour………is winning the lottery. and if they hard launch…..or whatever……on stage….at every show….or at least like 99% hard launch on stage at every show….and then just never speak about it publicly on the internet…. That’s how they’re gonna do it. Trust. And then when people discuss it on the internet they’re all just going to look crazy and that’s exactly what they WANT…..that’s what they’ve always wanted. And there’s gonna be no proof of it because u can’t have cameras out at the shows 😃😃😃
Could u imagine walking out at the end of the show and being so high on hard launch adrenaline that u buy tickets for the NEXT show and get in ur car and start driving there so u can see hard launch again? Thats me. That’s the kind of energy they’re going for.
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