hand-balancing

I feel like we haven’t appreciated this moment as a fandom enough.

Like there was plenty of room behind her to walk but Fitz chooses to brush up against her to prolong the contact between them in that moment. Touches between these two are always significant and especially in this scene, it was a symbol of comfort between the two of them.

Random headcanon

All of Joker’s clothes are custom made and Harley is in charge of getting his measurements after he ended up murdering the last few people who tried it because he was offended that they “thought they were allowed to touch me”

6

The Circus Life with @andrii_bondarenko

To see more photos and videos behind the scenes of Andrey’s hand-balancing act in Cirque du Soleil, follow @andrii_bondarenko on Instagram

“The stage and audience are so marvelous, and the whole thing mesmerizes me,” says Andrey Bondarenko (@andrii_bondarenko) from Mykolaiv, Ukraine. Andrey’s journey has taken him from being a student acrobat to a European champion, and now to having a solo hand-balancing show in Сirque du Soleil (@cirquedusoleil). “One of my favorite hand-balancing tricks is to ‘walk on air,’” he says. “People loved the trick, so I developed it further, and finally, I created my own style of ‘walking on air.’” Andrey’s daily photos and videos are a behind-the-scenes glimpse into the life of a circus artist. “I spend 30 minutes training every morning to wake up my body. It’s quite enough for me—I need to save my energy for the evening show.”

Call Boy Winwin (Winwin x Reader)

AYYY WAZZZ UPPPPPP MY BABESSS!!!! I’m back and ready to make y’all bust A NUT! People said it wasn’t possible, Winwin, an angel, a precious baby, could never be a call boy. Well…listen up children: yOU CAN DO ANYTHING U SET UR MIND TO SO HERE WE ARE! I’m super proud of this one and happy how it turned out, so please ENJOY!!!

P.S. Winwin’s ears and lips were literally sculpted by god fite me in the quad

Originally posted by fairyprincewinwin

The popular cozy cafe was ridden with customers, leaving you squeezed in a corner on a fluffy cushion with your cup of tea in hand and balancing a book on your knee. Luckily you sat directly next to a big window, allowing you a view of the whole street, where fashionable young couples and groups of friends were strutting about hand in hand, arms looped together like destiny knots.


You sipped your chamomile, feeling unsatisfsfied with the bitterness of the drink. You had a sweet tooth like no other, preferring your herby drinks to be drowned in sugar. Tucking your book under your arm, you made your way over to a neat little table that held cream and sugar, decorated with sweet smelling flowers and vintage knick knacks.

You made a move for the sugar when a much larger hand knocked into your own, causing you to jump and apologize, spilling some of the tea down your hand with a yelp. You winced at the pain and finally looked up at the other person, “I’m so sorry! Please excuse-,” you quickly recognized that familiar gorgeous face and plump lips, “Winwin!”

He had on a concerned look, seeing the way your hand had turned an angry red, all splotchy and painful looking, “_______! Is your hand okay?”

“Oh,” you looked down at it with a blush, not believing your luck. You turned back to him with a sheepish smile, “It’s fine, I guess.”

He gave you a look, taking your book and cup from your hands and leading you over to the table where he was sat at, his things sprawled over the surface. He grasped your hand gently, lifting it up in the dim natural light to see what the damage was, “I’ll go ask for some ice. You should go to the bathroom and run your hand under some cold water while I’m doing that, okay?”

You flushed with embarrassment, as you mumbled your reply through red cheeks, “O-okay.”

You scurried off to the bathroom as the skinny dark haired boy walked over to one of the servers and asked if they could spare a bag of ice. You entered the restroom and turned on the brass faucet all the way to the coldest setting, gingerly sticking your hand under the freezing stream to relieve the pain. You stayed that way for a few minutes before you felt like you’d had enough of women walking in and giving you strange looks, returning from the bathroom to find Winwin had grabbed another chair and pulled it beside his, a respectable distance away.

You sat down, greeting him with another smile, “I got a bit tired of people giving me weird looks in the bathroom.”

He let out a small chuckle, an adorable little sound that seemed to match so well with his deep accented voice, “That’s okay, they managed to give me ice.” He reached for your hand again, looking up at you for permission with pink ears before you placed your hand in his, “Here, this should help a bit.” He pressed a plastic bag of ice wrapped in brown napkins to your hand, the cooling effect alleviating some of the pain.

“It’s not that bad,” you joked, covering your grin with your free hand. “I’ve burned myself worse on my curling wand, this is nothing.”

He laughed again, making your heart sing along to the sound, an addicting lilt you’re sure you could here for the rest of your life. You dared to look over at him, through a curtain of hair, “So…what’s my best friend doing at my favorite cafe?” You poked at his arm, “Last time we were here, I distinctly remember you saying something like, ‘This place is too crowded, I don’t like it.’”

As you mocked his voice, Winwin pouted, turning his gaze toward the window so you couldn’t see his blush, “W-well I just thought I would give it another try. Besides,” he countered, “they have the best coffee.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled, glancing down to where he softly cupped your hand in his. “It’s been awhile since we hung out, Winwin. I miss you, I’m a lonely hermit without you.” You tried to sound like you were joking, but truly, you missed him like a starfish missed the salty water of the sea.

He didn’t reply for a moment, hesitating, “I-I’ve been busy with work.” He lifted the ice pack, inspected your hand before replacing it, “I didn’t expect that I would barely get any free time,” he met your gaze, sincere, “I missed you too though.”

You blushed, trying to find something to say back, searching, “So how has your job been? Do you like it? What was it again…? A bellhop?”

Winwin nodded eagerly, “Yep. And you know it’s really interesting because I get to see so many fancy people, it’s crazy.”

“I’ll have to visit you sometime,” you smiled, rolling your eyes. “When I finally get paid that is.”

“Oh, yeah,” he seemed to remember something, looking interested. “How’s working at that bookstore going?”

“It’s nice,” you bit your lip. “But the old couple who run it always seem to forget to give me my paycheck…or actually write it at all.”

Winwin furrowed his brow, “Why don’t you say something, dummy?”

“Because I can’t seem to bring myself to do it,” you dramatically sighed, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. “They’re just so old, but really sweet. And sometimes I think they can’t understand a word I say at all.”

Winwin laughed, finally taking the ice pack off, looking satisfied at how much better your hand looked, “Well that stinks. At least your hand is better.”

“You should kiss it better,” you teased, half-joking, secretly half-serious. “Then I’ll feel completely healed,” you recovered by laughing obnoxiously loud. Nice one, you moron.

“O-oh, okay, I mean sure.” The dark haired boy stuttered, lifting your hand fluidly and gently pressing his plush lips to the back of your hand. He let them rest there for a second too long to seem more than friendly, allowing his lips the secret pleasure of just feeling you skin.

He blushed and pulled away, face completely red, “There, happy?”

“Y-yeah,” you mumbled, heart racing as you retracted your hand and pressed the back of it with your fingertips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he took a shaky breath and checked the time on his phone, nearly smacking himself as his dark eyes widened, “Shoot, I’m going to be late.”

“To what?,” you asked, curiosity bubbling up inside of you as you watched him gather his laptop and books, hands a flurry.

“To work,” he exasperated, slinging his bag on his shoulder. He murmured to himself, passing a hand through his hair, “They’re going to be so mad.”

“Get going then,” you smiled gently, tucking his phone into the back pocket of his pants. “And don’t forget to text me when you’re off so we can hang out again, okay?”

He managed a smile, his petal pink lips quirking, “Yes ma'am. See you later.”

“Bye,” you waved as he quickly walked away, weaving in and out of customers with his slim dancer body until he reached the door. You’d already turned away, so you didn’t see the way he looked back at you one more time, longingly, his eyes soft.

You looked down at your still pink hand, thinking of the way his lips had felt against it, a pang in your heart. Feeling like a love sick puppy, and an absolute loser, you pressed your lips to where his had been, pulling away only to wrap your arms around yourself sadly. How pathetic were you, to be the girl who falls in love with her best friend? But falling for Winwin was inevitable, you knew you felt something for him the day a mutual friend introduced you to one another.

You shook yourself, mad that you were so upset over something like this. But you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t deny your heart, that was foolish. So you packed your things up, needing council and comfort, you went to the one person who’s advice you held above all other’s.

~

You arrived at the chic apartment building, shiny and new, full of hip young people and newlyweds. You felt jealous and out of place as you passed all the couples holding hands, fingers itching to mimic the gesture, but grasping at empty air. You were grouchy after the elevator ride when you finally reached the sleek dark brown door of a certain apartment. You pressed the doorbell impatiently, hearing from the other side of the door shuffling footsteps walking over.

The door opened up to reveal the gentle dark eyes and strong jaw of Taeyong, a smile on his lips, “_______! You actually showed up.”

You scoffed, punching him in the arm as he snickered while you walked in, “Save it Taeyong, I’ve had a day.”

“'A day’?,” he wondered sarcastically, “Are you on your period or…?”

You flopped on the couch facedown, your voice muffled, “Oh my god, shut up. This is why I don’t come over here often.” You groaned into the downy cushion, “You just pick on and bully me.” Sitting up and looking around you asked him, “Where’s the girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes, making you scoot over so he could sit down too. “She’s at a…lesson right now. So what’s up? You seemed kind of upset on the phone.”

“I’m not upset,” you said, worrying at your bottom lip. “It’s just…I feel like Winwin doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore, that I make things awkward and-”

“_______,” the older boy interjected, “To Sicheng, you’re his universe, he practically revolves around you. Do you know how many time I’ve had to sit through him being a primadonna and whining about how he misses you-”

“Wait, what?,” you blubbered, turning your body to look directly at him, eyes wide.

Taeyong looked at you like you had grown two heads, “Yeah, you two are literal morons. He’s had the fattest crush on you since the moment I introduced you to him at my birthday party.” He smirked at you, poking you teasingly, “And we all know that little Miss here has had the hots for our resident prince since day one too.”

You blushed, happy but embarrassed by the fact that everyone could see Winwin’s feelings far more plainly than you. You picked at a loose thread on your sweater, quiet, “What should I do then? He’s always busy with work, being a bellhop of whatever it was-”

“A bellhop?,” Taeyong questioned, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sicheng doesn’t work at a hotel at all.”

You were taken aback, “What do you mean? He told me just today that he had to leave for work and that he was a bellhop at some hotel.” You felt betrayed, “He didn’t lie to me…did he? Why would he?”

Taeyong sighed, unsure of how to approach the subject, knowing fully well Winwin should be the one to tell you. After all, if Winwin wanted to date you, you were going to have to live with what he truly did for a living. The older boy placed a warm hand comfortingly on your shoulder, “_______, don’t blame him for lying to you. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you or scare you.”

“What?,” you replied, eyes full of confusion. “Taeyong, I really don’t understand-”

“Sicheng is a call boy,” Taeyong blurted out, eyes hard and gauging your reaction. “He’s a male prostitute.”

You felt your stomach drop, not expecting an answer like that at all. Quiet and sweet Winwin a sex worker? You couldn’t even fathom it.

“How?,” you quivered, hands shaking as you digested this new piece of information about your best friend.

“It’s not my business to tell you,” Taeyong murmured. “That’s Sicheng’s part to tell, I’m not going to steal it from him. Better to hear it from the horse’s mouth anyway.”

You bit your lip, nodding, looking down as your phone buzzed and reading the name of the subject of your conversation. It was Winwin, telling you he had nothing going on tonight, no work.

No work.

You don’t know why, but your fingers moved on their own accord, typing out a message asking Winwin if he wanted to hang out at your apartment later. You might as well get it over with, you thought. Better to have him hate you now, rather than later.

Winwin’s reply was fast, excited with many emojis as he said that sounded good.

See you then.

~

Your palms itched as you paced around your small apartment, talking to no one in particular as you reassured yourself, and maybe your house plants.

“Listen, ______,” you eased yourself onto your futon. “Being a…call boy doesn’t change who he is to you. He’s still Sicheng, still Winwin.”

Your mind just kept taking raking through memories of times you’d spent with him, searching for queues and indicators of his true feelings for you. You also thought of what might have prompted him to make such a drastic occupational decision, he seemed too…innocent for such a job. But according to Taeyong, Winwin had been going strong for a few months now, since he started his second semester at the university you both attended.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely heard the mechanical ding of the doorbell, nearly jumping out of your skin as it rang through your tiny abode. You stood quickly, “Coming!”

Patting down the comfy and loose dress you’d decided to wear before striding cautiously over to your front door, you nibbled nervously on your lip. You reached for the door, gingerly turning the handle and opening it to reveal the sweet smile of your best friend, “________.”

Seeing him almost made you forget everything, a smile mirroring his, “Winwin.” You held out your arms and he rolled his eyes, swooping you into his.

He held onto you, comically rocking you back into your apartment, “Been a while since I’ve seen your place, but you’re still a plant hoarder. Killed any of these ones yet?”

You playfully shoved him, shutting the door and crossing your arms, “Hey, those ones died because I bought them from some cheap convenience store.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” he teased, shrugging off his coat and still observing your humble abode. “It’s really cute,” he mentioned, hanging his jacket next to yours and softly striding in. “Everywhere I look it’s you.”

“What?,” you blurted, snapping back to attention after dazing off staring at his strong looking back.

He chuckled, “I said you’re everywhere. This apartment really has your style.”

“Oh and what’s that?,” you countered, joking around as you plopped on the couch. “Messy?”

“No,” he pouted, collapsing next to you and stretching an arm on the back of the sofa. “It’s cozy and cute, just like you.”

You hoped the dim lighting of your living room hid your blush as you stuttered your thanks, “O-oh, thank you. I tried.”

Winwin smiled gently, but his face shifted and became more concerned, “_______, I’ve been wondering, are you doing okay?”

You were startled by his question, confused, “O-of course! I’m perfectly fine!”

You answered too quickly for his liking and he narrowed his eyes, “I’m serious. You can tell me anything.”

Your heart lurched, causing you to frown and furrow your brow, “But you can’t tell me anything? Winwin, trust is a two way street.”

It was his turn to look confused, “What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?”

You sighed, grasping his hand and giving it a tight squeeze, “No, it’s just…” You couldn’t find it in your heart of hearts to tell him, so you lied, “I just worry about you sometimes, that’s all.”

You gave him the best reassuring smile you could muster and he gave you a crooked one, relaxing his shoulders and murmuring, “You don’t need to worry about me, _______. You’re the one burning yourself on chamomile.”

You laughed lightly, and then it grew quiet again, like both of you knew what had just happened wasn’t real, a safe lie. Trying to lessen the tension you wiggled your cell phone, “Wanna order take out…?”

“God, more than anything,” Winwin breathed, snatching your phone from your hand and looking up your favorite restaurant, not even asking what you wanted to order before he called the place. He knew you all too well, and he saw through your lie.

You flipped on the television, finding one of those channels that played the same movie over and over for a whole day. Finding one you both liked that had just been released on dvd, you went to your closet and grabbed all the blankets and pillows you could carry. Winwin had already dimmed the room, letting the soft glow of one lamp and a few candles illuminate his face, making you completely stop where you stood. His tan skin looked golden in the light, and you could see the brown flecks in his dark hair, eyes reflecting the yellow light of the lamps. He looked so at ease, like this was the first time he had relaxed in weeks, and the bags underneath his eyes were indicators of that.

You felt a lump in your throat, realizing how much you’ve missed him, and how you wanted to make this night special for him, a night for him to just relax. You walked over and playfully dumped the soft blankets and pillows all over him from behind the couch, making him jump and reach over for you. Winwin pulled you over the couch and into his arms, tickling you furiously as you screamed with laughter, “S-Stop, W-Winwin…!”

He pouted as he stopped his assault, “That’s what you get, you know I don’t like being scared.”

You giggled softly, letting your head fall back against the pile of blankets as Winwin cradled you in his arms. The boy let the moment fade into silence, still not letting go as he gazed at you with longing, watching as your eyes fluttered closed and your chest still heaved from laughing. He wanted to tell you so badly, to let you know how he felt, how he had always felt.

He even wanted to tell you what you already knew.

He could ruin this friendship by confessing, or, if by some miracle you felt the same way, he would still have to deal with the fact that his job wasn’t one that appealed to most. He can’t even imagine how you could feel alone in bed, wondering who he was going to be fucking that night, where, and when he would come home. You would probably worry if he really did love you, or if you were just simply a distraction for him from his job.

But you were so much more to him, you were his best friend, and he could never cause you that much pain. He already lied to you, and now, Winwin already knew that you knew. You were trying your best to hide it, but he could tell that you were still struggling to accept that that was his reality.

Seeing you look so beautiful and at peace made his heart hurt, he wanted you to know. Maybe you would be able to accept, and maybe you would be able to be with him. In that moment, Winwin realized if he didn’t tell you how he felt and what he did, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Taking a deep shaky breath, Winwin’s perfect lips parted gently, “_______.”

“Hm,” you hummed, eyes still closed and your body still relaxed.

“Look at me,” he murmured, allowing you to sit up and move out of his lap. “Please.” Brow furrowing, you did as he asked, pulling one of the blankets into your lap for some semblance of comfort as your heart raced.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he swallowed, eyes reaching yours for a split second before darting down to his hands. “I should have told you weeks ago, but I was so afraid. I was so scared of losing you that I lied, and only to you.”

Winwin looked up at you again, dark eyes hard with shame and fingers clenching, “I’m a call boy, _______. A male prostitute.”

You blinked, swallowing painfully as you realized that this was reality and everything Taeyong had told you had just been confirmed.

“I didn’t know.”

“You knew,” he murmured, eyes turning downcast, ashamed. “You just didn’t believe it.”

“What do you want me to say Winwin?,” you murmured, reaching out to cradle his head against your chest. “I realize now that you haven’t changed, you’re still Winwin to me, no matter what you do for a living or what lifestyle you choose to have. You’re still my Winwin, okay?”

You heard him give a shaky breath, sniffling once as he brought up a hand to wipe his eyes. You couldn’t stop what came pouring from your mouth next. If now was the time to confess all harbored secrets, you had to tell him yours too.

“And you already know something too, Winwin. You’ve probably known for so long and I must look like an idiot for never telling you-”

Your words were cut off as Winwin lifted his head and cupped your cheeks, placing his perfect mouth on yours without a sound. Your eyes were wide with shock, hands shaking as you gripped the blanket, could this really be happening…?

Your thoughts were confirmed when he began to move his lips against your, kissing you tentatively at first. You let your eyes close, senses heightened as your fingers released the blanket in your lap and found his thick hair. His kisses grew more confident, breathing in such a way through his nose that your heart thudded in your chest as you realized what you meant to him.

Winwin kissed you fiercely, gasping as he dragged your bottom lip with his teeth and drew you into his lap. You straddled him confidently, never wanting to be so close to someone before and feel all of them, every touch, smell, and taste. Your friend slowly pulled away, lips lingering on yours as one of your hands came up to feel how hard his heart was beating through his endearing pink sweater.

His breath ghosted across your lips, as he gave a tentative smile, “I didn’t know.”

“You knew,” you repeated his words from earlier, though they were filled with joy and mirrored his shy smile. “You just didn’t believe.”

“But I do now,” he murmured, already leaning in and pulling you impossibly closer.

“But you do now,” you whispered right before he swallowed you whole again, his hands already wandering to places you had only dreamed of him touching.

The wet sounds of your kisses made you moan quietly against his lips, never having kissed someone who was so good at it before. Winwin was a natural, and no wonder he found a talent for sex, because your panties were already beginning to dampen from under your loose dress. You couldn’t help the way your hips started to move against him, body naturally seeking a way to feel more, and to make him feel good as well.

He gasped from the sensation, prying your mouth open with his tongue and ravaging you with it. He tasted like caramel coffee and cream, so addicting that you rubbed your tongue against his in order to taste more. He pulled away and chuckled, hands on your hips and still allowing you to grind softly against him, “Taste good?”

You nodded, biting your lip shyly as you slowed your roll and mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Stick out your tongue,” he whispered gently, a smile on his plump lips and a thumb running soothingly on your hip.

You did as you were told, mouth open and tongue out as you wondered what he could possible be wanting to do to you, not that you were complaining. You were surprised and so incredibly turned on when his own tongue came out and swirled around yours, pulling it into his mouth and sucking on your wet muscle sensually. You could taste the caramel and the sweetness of the cream even better as your eyes fluttered close and you moaned loudly. Your hands found his sweater, grasping onto it tightly as your hips increased their pace again, loving the way his rough jeans rubbed your clit through your panties. Your dress had completely ridden up your hips, and Winwin’s hands couldn’t help grasping your thighs and squeezing them with a groan.

And just like that, Winwin pulled his mouth away, looking at you through his lust with serious dark eyes, “_______, we don’t have to, not today.”

You sobered up quickly, looking directly back at him with a clear mind, “I want to, Winwin. I want you.” You grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it gently, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips as you added, “Please.”

His lips parted and he smirked shyly, looking so cute and hot at the same time that you wanted to throw yourself off a building, “Okay, but I’m not going to fuck you, I’m tired of fucking.” He kissed your nose softly, resting his forehead against yours, “I’m going to make love to you, and you’re going to be my first and only.”

Your heart swelled as you kissed his cheek, pulling him into a hug as he stood up with your legs wrapped around his waist. You buried your face into his neck, realizing you wanted loving Winwin more than lustful Winwin. He carried you to your bedroom, letting just the glow of the moon and the city light his path as he laid you down carefully.

He crawled over your body, slipping your dress higher and higher until it was over your head and somewhere on the floor. He left a trail of kisses over your stomach, the deep hum of his voice soothing against the skin, “I never really enjoy it,” he said, reaching behind and undoing the clasp of your bra, “Fucking, I mean. It’s too…detached and unfeeling.”

He continued, your chest arching into him as he massaged your breasts, “You may feel everything that’s happening…the touches,” he leaned down and took one of your peaks into his mouth, releasing it with a pop. “The hands, the fingers,” he reached and tugged your panties down your thighs, fingertips dragging over your skin before grazing over your dripping core. “But that’s not really feeling, is it?”

You mewled as his thumb rubbed your clit generously, swallowing your moans with his mouth, “N-no.”

“Feeling are those touches,” he murmured against your lips. “But with someone you love.”

He stilled his hand, and you ceased your sounds of pleasure, watching as he looked down at you with eyes clouded with adoration. You smiled, brushing his hair from his forehead, “Are you saying you love me right now?”

Winwin blushed, hand retreating from your wet heat, “Y-yes.”

“Don’t,” you grabbed his hand, bringing it back to your lower lips and helping him insert a finger. “Show me.”

You tentatively reached down and began to rub him through his jeans, “And I’ll show you.”

It was a switch, from a shy boy with a crush, to a man who wanted nothing more than to worship your body and feel everything with you. He quickly rid himself of his sweater and you watched as goosebumps raised over his tan skin, fingertips arching across his chest. He shivered and pumped his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, his cock aching to feel the slickness that his fingers felt.

No words passed between the two of you, touches and looks told everything as Winwin removed his pants, watching with a small smirk as you gazed at his member. He felt confident, wanting to ask just once, “Am I what you expected?”

You gulped, sitting up to push him onto his back, as you murmured in reply, “You’re what I want.”

Winwin groaned as you stroked his cock languidly, enjoying the sensation of his veins and the slickness of his precum. Feeling adventureous and eager to please, you let your lips wrap around the tip, letting go only to place a long kiss on it. The boy let his head roll back, a hand weaving gently into your hair, cursing as you took him in. Your head bobbed quickly, feeling his thighs tense beneath you as he whined, “______, I want to come with you, please stop…!”

You gave him one last long suck, releasing him with a pop and a trail of saliva on your lips. You moved over him, scared for a moment at what this all meant. You were sleeping with your best friend, a call boy, who are trained to make a woman think she’s their entire world, just so they can make a buck. Winwin saw the panic in your eyes and rolled you over, pressing your bodies together so you only felt him. His voice was hard, but his eyes were soft, “Stop. I know what you’re thinking and it’s not true.”

He leaned down and kissed you chastely, tucking your hair behind an ear, “I’m not here as Sicheng the call boy, _______. I’m here as Winwin, your Winwin, who was a stupid lovesick idiot the moment he laid eyes on you.”

“Do you really love me?,” you choked out, wiping away the tears that spilt softly down the sides of your face. The unconfident girl inside of you longed for him to scream yes, to reassure your thoughts and hopes.

Winwin cupped your cheek, forcing you to look directly into his gentle brown eyes, “______, you won’t ever know how much I love you. I can only dream about you seeing yourself the way I see you.”

He leaned down and sealed his words with a kiss, making you smile against his lips as happy tears escaped your eyes now. You shifted your hips, indicating that you were ready for him, and he responded in kind. Gently parting your legs, he positioned his member above your entrance, looking you in the eyes as he slid into you with almost no hindrance. It was like you had found the missing half of yourself for the first time, the feeling of him sheathed inside of you.

And perhaps you did find your other half in that moment.

Winwin let out a sigh of relief, gaze still trained on your face as he allowed you to adjust and make the first movement of your hips. You gasped, rolling yourself up to meet him, feeling the way he rubbed and slid past your walls over and over. It was intoxicating and beautiful to see the look of sheer love and adoration on his face, all for you to kiss and mirror.

Without a word, you silently passed the reigns of power over to him, allowing him to set the pace and take control. His movements were passionate and precise, making you feel as though you were moving with him as one, not two bodies. He bent down and buried his face into your neck, leaving kisses and whispering your name with hot breath, the mantra slipping past his lips without a break. A hand slipped down to stroke your sensitive bud, rubbing in the same rhythm as his hips, heightening your feeling of pleasure.

“Winwin,” you moaned softly, addicted to the sound of his skin slapping against yours and of his gasps as he sped up, close to his high.

His thrusts became more erratic, choppier and, for a split second, animalistic as he rutted into you and rubbed your clit to completion. The two of you cried out each other’s names, hips still frantic as you savored the feeling of euphoria at the same time as one another. Winwin rubbed you until your thighs shook from overstimulation, wanting nothing more than to see to it that you felt your fair share of pleasure. Your head rolled back and you squeezed your eyes shut, fisting the sheets as he slowly finished his assault on your sensitive bud.

He pulled out carefully, but not careful enough to catch the seed that spilled from your heat and onto the sheets. He smiled gingerly, but you just waved away his worries by pulling him down for a kiss, dragging him to lay beside you in the moonlit room.

You watched the reflection of yourself and the moon in the dark pupils of his eyes, and he in yours. True love was beheld by the two of you as you stared into each other’s reflections both ways. He pulled you close, body tucking against his in such a perfect way you could weep at the feeling. He smiled contently and kissed your forehead, tucking you beneath his chin and humming softly as his eyes slid close.

Drowsiness slowly pulled you down into her warm embrace, but the only touch you felt was Winwin’s. You waited until it seemed like he would fall asleep before kissing his lips tenderly and whispering, “I love you too.”

anonymous asked:

ugh remember when everyone was freaking out about that 3-legged DDR video where phil "held" dan's hand when he lost balance because it apparently confirmed phan or something man i'm so glad the phandom has realized that d&p touching isn't phan proof!1!!

literally it’s so boring to assume a certain look or touch is “phan proof” because in all honesty who wouldn’t look at phil like that or accidentally touch? it’s extreme and i just like it for shits and giggles. im glad people have calmed down