This Whole Paragraph Is So Tcfygvkuhblijno, You Should Definitely Write Your Own Sequel To This,,, Like

this whole paragraph is so tcfygvkuhblijno, you should definitely write your own sequel to this,,, like i'll read it for sure!! im so happy you liked it that much, it makes my heart warm :) if i ever make a pt.2 i'll tag u love <3

San traces gentle patterns on the exposed part of your waist, his gaze fixed on the subtle shift of your breathing. With your back turned to him, he can't see your face, but he's certain you're fast asleep. If you were awake, he wouldn't dare to touch you. Arranged marriages aren't uncommon, especially among royal families. They serve to solidify bonds, bringing prosperity and peace to kingdoms, but not necessarily to the individuals involved - the groom and the bride.

It wouldn't be truthful to say that you two love each other or even that you are friends. Even after two years of marriage, your professionalism remains the primary barrier. Since childhood, you've been immersed in rigorous studies to prepare for your role as the empress of the nation. Your life was predetermined long before you were born. Hence, San comprehends completely why you maintain such a cold demeanor toward him.

But, he can't help but yearn for you. His thoughts constantly gravitate toward you, in a way that should be ordinary for a husband but not in your circumstances. He shouldn't love you, but you're making it incredibly difficult for him. Your conduct with those around you, the way you carry yourself, and the genuine kindness you extend, even to those beneath your station, it all makes it harder for him. He sees how you pay attention to your advisors during crucial meetings, noticing the subtle furrowing of your brows when issues with the crops or markets are brought up. Your effortless thoughtfulness is simply captivating; how could he not fall for you?

San places a quivering hand on your hair, toying with a curl between his fingers. He leans in to plant a tender kiss on it, but as you stir slightly, he withdraws his hand abruptly, pretending to be asleep, shutting his eyes tight.

You turn, still in your slumber, but San doesn't open his eyes. He knows you'll wake soon, as the sun begins to filter through the balcony, altering the hues of the sky. You emit a soft murmur, and San senses your eyes opening as you let out a gentle gasp. He feels you shift away slightly, understandable since your noses were nearly touching. San remains motionless, his eyes closed, his breath held.

He remains that way for several minutes until he feels you sit up on the bed. You sigh and stay put. San softly opens his eyes, stealing a glance at your profile. Your gaze is fixed on the horizon, the soft morning light accentuating the curve of your cheek.

"I need to get pregnant," you murmur softly, a tender hand caressing your belly, your eyes glazing over, lost in thought as usual.

"What?" San blurts out, rising to his knees, his eyes wide. "What did you just say?"

You turn to him, embarrassment flushing your face. You open your mouth, then close it, resembling a fish caught off guard. You didn't expect him to be awake this early. "No—I—I just—"

"I'll give you a son," he interrupts, his voice trembling, his hand running through his hair. "If you let me, I'll give you anything." His tone carries a hint of desperation. He had refrained from any physical contact since the beginning of your marriage. It would have created more distance between you, rather than bringing you closer. He didn't want your first night together to be the result of obligations. That would have been too cruel for his heart—feeling you so close, yet your heart so far away. No.

Your face flushes, and the overwhelming urge to conceal yourself becomes unbearable. You shake your head, swiftly discarding the golden covers from your body. "You must have misheard me," you hastily interject, planting your bare soles on the chilly floor. Before you can rise from the bed, San seizes your forearm and gently guides you back, prompting an unqueenly gasp to escape your lips.

He remains silent as he caresses your hairline with a tender hand, peering at you beneath his long lashes. Both of you linger in silence for a moment, locking gazes. The room is so quiet that you can almost discern the rhythmic thumping of his heart, although you can only feel it through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

"I like you," he murmurs into the void. You part your lips to reply, but he doesn't allow you to continue. "I don't know you, but I like you. I would say I love you, but I don't want to push you. So I'll settle for 'I like you.'" He concludes, his lips pressed together in an anxious frown.

You remain silent for a while, simply gazing at him, your eyelashes fluttering. San senses that he might be on the verge of being sick, until you break into a faint smile. Your hands find their way to his face, both of them cradling his cheeks, as your thumbs stroke gently.

"I don't… I don't know you," you mumble, and it's the truth. You hadn't taken the effort to learn more about him beyond the superficial information an empress should possess about her emperor, essential for ruling over a country by his side. "But I can learn. I can try."

Your voice barely rises above a whisper, and you both chuckle like children discovering something shiny.

He leans down over your body, planting a gentle kiss on the gold earring adorning your left ear and then another at the juncture of your ear and neck. He lingers for a few moments, inhaling your natural scent as he feels you shudder at the touch of his lips against your skin. A smirk tugs at his lips before he swiftly jumps out of bed, leaving you alone in the opulent chamber. You hear him exuberantly cheering with the knights outside the door, and you can't help but smile at his youthful enthusiasm. He's making a complete fool of himself, and you turn in the bed, burying your face in his pillow, releasing your own muffled scream of excitement, your feet kicking up in the air. You find yourself laughing, carried away by the rush of adrenaline.

Suddenly, someone clears their throat from behind you. You turn to find the rotation of maids, poised and ready for your daily morning routine. Flustered, you promptly compose yourself, rising to sit and smoothing down your hair. The youngest maids attempt to stifle their laughter behind their sleeves, while you attempt not to perish from embarrassment.

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i think i like ꕀ when it rains ⋆ ࣪ .

i'd sacrifice the whole world if it meant i could get hugged like that by him

You're running as fast as you can, feeling your heart pound in your chest. But no matter how hard you try, it's like your lungs just can't grab enough air. You're on the verge of collapsing, but you fight against it because you know that if you do, the creature chasing you will catch up. You try to move quietly, not wanting to draw any more attention from the zombies, the one trailing behind you is more than enough to handle.

You swiftly dart into an alley, the chill hitting you as you slide under a beat-up Ford, hoping the zombie isn't clever enough to figure out how to wriggle in and grab you. With your palms pressed against your mouth, you stifle your sobs, stealing glances as the zombie's body lunges violently at the car, its desperate cries and growls piercing the air as it searches for you.

You remain there, tears streaming down the sides of your temples, praying that it doesn't locate you. It feels like hours, but it's probably only been a few minutes, before the creature loses interest and sets off to hunt down another victim elsewhere.

You shut your eyes, allowing the tears to trickle down your cheeks, relishing this brief respite. You know better than to venture out of your hiding spot now; it would be a foolish move. The zombie might still be lurking nearby, and you're utterly spent, devoid of the energy to flee once more. Your legs feel distant, except for the persistent throbbing in your thighs. Glancing to the side, you catch sight of a distant silhouette at the mouth of the alley. Your lip quivers as you pray it's not another monster. You focus on steadying your breath, doing your utmost not to draw any attention, until the walkie-talkie strapped to your waist crackles to life, Wooyoung's voice inquiring about your whereabouts and whether you were able to secure the meds you sought.

Frantically, you fumble with the device, attempting to silence it, smash it, anything to no avail, as the zombie has already caught wind of the noise. A searing shriek escapes you as it homes in on your position with alarming speed. Fear overwhelms you, making it impossible to stifle your cries as you try to scramble away from the relentless advance of the oncoming undead.

You cry as you try to move but the zombie is already there, having ran so fast, it fell, which conveniently helped it get to you easier. You struggle against the relentless grip of the zombie, which had managed to reach you despite its fall. A piercing shriek escapes your lips as its bloodied hand seizes your boot, refusing to release its hold, overpowering your feeble attempts to break free. The creature's ghastly appearance sends shivers down your spine, its face a distorted mask of veins snaking through its cheeks to its pitch-black eyes. Smudges of blood and shreds of flesh cling to its decaying teeth, intensifying the nausea already roiling within you.

With a horrifying tug, it secures its grip on your ankle, your skin brushing against its own causing you to cry out even louder, the mere thought of a scratch sealing your fate—infected. The monster echoes your cries with its own guttural growls, hauling you closer with an inhuman force. You resign yourself to the belief that this is the end, that you will meet your demise here. It's over. You're dead.

Yet, just as despair settles in, something yanks the zombie by its legs, pulling it out from beneath the car. In a fleeting moment, you witness a knife thrusting into the creature's skull.

Through your tear-blurred vision, you spot Wooyoung kneeling before you, frantically scanning beneath the car, his disheveled appearance adding an unexpected allure. Specks of blood dot his face, his tousled hair falling across his eyes, a glistening sheen of sweat adorning his flushed cheeks. You sob uncontrollably as he tugs you into his embrace, pulling you out from your hiding place.

As you collapse into his lap, your tears dampening the nape of his neck, he holds you tightly, his broad palm cradling your head, drawing you nearer to him, while his other arm encircles your waist. He sways gently, murmuring reassurances about how you're okay and safe, about how he's not going to let anything hurt you, about how he's sorry, about how he should've been next to you and vows to never leave your side again.

His whispered words of comfort soothe your racing heart, calming the storm within you as you cling to him, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace, the assurance of his protective presence.

He eases you back slightly, his gaze fixated on your face as his hands tenderly sweep away the disheveled strands, tucking them behind your ears to better take in your features. Lowering his head to yours, his forehead presses gently against yours, your breaths mingling in the stillness, the world around you fading into the background as you share a moment of intimacy amidst the desolation of the city.

Guiding your chin with a gentle touch, he guides your lips to meet his in a languid kiss, his tongue delicately tracing the outline of your chapped lips, coaxing you to open them. You allow his tongue to slip past, a gentle dance commencing as it caresses yours, each movement tender and deliberate, creating a rhythm that speaks of both longing and relief. This delicate exchange continues, a cherished connection that speaks volumes in its simplicity and depth.

As you both part, Wooyoung helps you to your feet, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before leading you deeper into the city, glock in hand, toward the refuge of a random apartment, your own little sanctuary.

"Let's go pretty girl, I found some canned peaches, we're gonna eat good tonight"

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watching a scary movie with best friend sungchan and members then you whine in bed that it was very fucking scary and he lets you cuddle close and hide in the covers with him 😭 spoons you later but damn he’s kinda hard but you won’t let him go to the bathroom bc you’re scared so now he’s going mad bc you smell so good and you’re so cute but he’s ur bestie 😟

i love this idea.. you'd be able to feel him pressing against you, he'd be as still as possible with his arms around you. cock straining against his briefs, pressing against your ass, he'd be losing his mind just at the smell of you when he buries his nose into your hair.. you're so small and cute in his arms, he'd feel the way your heart rate would speed up, he'd know you could feel his cock against you. it's really just a waiting game to see who breaks first.

i think he'd speak up.. feeling guilty for getting hard so he'd apologise for it but would be a little taken back when he feels your fingers trace over his arm that's wrapped around your waist and when you tell him it's okay you understand it happens. would think he's dreaming when you offer to help him out, giving him the excuse of "well best friends are supposed to help each other, right?" .. so he let's you!!! lets you lay on your back and spreads your legs for him to settle between so he can stuff his cock into you ... after that your sleepovers become a lot more touchy and intense ^.^

[11:37AM] "Hit those pads a bit harder, babe," Yunho says, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as your fists, bare and determined, connect with the pads. You dance on your toes, delivering a punch that goes beyond the target, hitting his chest purposefully. You try to pull back, but he playfully holds you in place. "Okay, I'm done playing," you complain, your voice muffled against the black fabric of his compressed shirt. Your boyfriend, a boxer, occasionally brings you to his gym sessions, but today's invitation was for you to take a swing. You expected his usual sweetness, but he's strangely serious. "Come on, tiny, you've got more in you," he teases, but you vigorously shake your head, exhausted and just wanting to lie down. You surrender, collapsing into his arms, making him lift you effortlessly. "Nooooooo," you protest as he drags you towards a nearby bench, kicking and pushing the air dramatically like the playful brat you are. "You're such a kid," he chuckles, settling you down, you continuing your little protest until he shushes you down with his kisses.

[09:56PM] "Just like that baby, a bit tighter," Yunho whispers near your ear, peering down at the bandage wrapping around his knuckles. You smoothly loop it around each of his lengthy fingers, tucking the end neatly beneath a fold. His hand slips out of your grasp, fingers curling and unfurling as he tests the snugness. With a serious gaze, he evaluates the feel. Anticipation lingers as you hope you've done it right. His eyes lock onto yours, a smile finally breaking across his face. The hand he'd been testing finds its place on your head, a gentle pat following. "You did good." Leaning down, he plants a tender kiss on your lips, silently expressing gratitude.

[02:09AM] "Why the tears? I won," he chuckles, playfully swiping at your tear-streaked cheeks, his large hand almost covering your face. Your sobs intensify as you notice his left eye, swollen and not crinkling like the other when he grins. He stifles another laugh. "'S not funny, your face's all fucked up!" you stammer through tears, wiping away the droplet of blood from his cut eyebrow. "You should see the other guy," he boasts, puffing out his chest, proud of his victory despite the bruises—turns out, the other guy got the worse end, a full-on knockout. Yet, he's still hurting, and you can't stand seeing him like this. "Shut up," you retort, clamping down on your lip as you give his shoulder a playful punch, eliciting a soft whine. Quickly, you grasp the spot you hit, worried you might have accidentally targeted a bruise. Pushing his shirt down to inspect, Yunho only pulls you closer. "Gotcha"

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