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This is probably just me having social anxiety but i sometimes feel anxious to reply to people on social media because i often don’t know how to reply to the comment so i just heart it 😭😭

🩶

Wait I’m the exact same way and it makes me feel SO bad bc I’ll sit on a response or a message for so long trying to think how to respond to it, and then I FORGET TO and then I just look like a terrible person 😀 why is forming human connections so hard. I always come off as too nonchalant or literally insane and I’m like NOOOOOO COME BACK LETS BE FRIENDS PLEEADRKEKKDD BE MY BEST FRIENDNSNSJFNF

Hi! Could make some writing notes regarding what happens to the human body when making out? Like the temperature increase and dopamine release, stuff like that? Or maybe just how the body reacts when you're nearby/interact to/with a loved one. I hope you're doing well! I love your posts!

Writing Notes: The Physiology of Love

Love can be distilled into 3 categories: lust, attraction, and attachment.

Though there are overlaps and subtleties to each, each type is characterized by its own set of hormones:

Testosterone and estrogen - drive lust

Dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin - create attraction

Oxytocin and vasopressin - mediate attachment

When we are falling in love, chemicals associated with the reward circuit flood our brain, produce a variety of physical and emotional responses:

Racing hearts

Sweaty palms

Flushed cheeks

Feelings of passion

Anxiety

Two decades of research shows that when it comes to early-stage intense romantic love—the kind we often think of when we talk about being lovestruck—a very primitive part of the brain’s reward system, located in the midbrain, is activated first.

Some Physiological Reactions to a Kiss

Pulse and blood pressure increase

Pupils dilate

Breathing deepens

Rational thought retreats, as desire suppresses both prudence and self-consciousness

Lust

Driven by the desire for sexual gratification.

The evolutionary basis for this stems from our need to reproduce, a need shared among all living things.

The hypothalamus of the brain plays a big role in this, stimulating the production of the sex hormones testosterone and estrogen from the testes and ovaries. While these chemicals are often stereotyped as being “male” and “female,” respectively, both play a role in men and women.

As it turns out, testosterone increases libido in just about everyone. The effects are less pronounced with estrogen, but some women report being more sexually motivated around the time they ovulate, when estrogen levels are highest.

Lust and attraction shut off the prefrontal cortex (includes rational behavior).

Attraction

Dopamine

Produced by the hypothalamus, is a particularly well-publicized player in the brain’s reward pathway – it’s released when we do things that feel good to us:

E.g., Spending time with loved ones and having sex.

High levels of dopamine and a related hormone, norepinephrine, are released during attraction. These chemicals make us:

giddy,

energetic, and

euphoric, even leading to decreased appetite and insomnia – which means you actually can be so “in love” that you can’t eat and can’t sleep.

Norepinephrine, also known as noradrenalin, may sound familiar because it plays a large role in the fight or flight response, which kicks into high gear when we’re stressed and keeps us alert:

Released more often at the beginning of a couple's relationship when many unknowns are present, putting the brain in a ‘proceed with caution’ mode.

Early in a relationship, there is heightened adrenalin, which causes feelings like butterflies in the stomach and a faster heart rate. There is also reduced activity in the parts of the brain that help us to make judgements, which is why you may be 'blinded' to another person’s faults in early love or infatuation,

Brain scans of people in love have actually shown that the primary “reward” centers of the brain, including the ventral tegmental area and the caudate nucleus, fire like crazy when people are shown a photo of someone they are intensely attracted to, compared to when they are shown someone they feel neutral towards (like an old high school acquaintance).

Attraction seems to lead to a reduction in serotonin:

It is a hormone that’s known to be involved in appetite and mood.

Interestingly, people who suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder also have low levels of serotonin, leading scientists to speculate that this is what underlies the overpowering infatuation that characterizes the beginning stages of love.

This explains why people in the early stages of love can become obsessed with small details, spending hours debating about a text to or from their beloved.

Attachment

The predominant factor in long-term relationships.

While lust and attraction are pretty much exclusive to romantic entanglements, attachment mediates friendships, parent-infant bonding, social cordiality, and many other intimacies as well.

The two primary hormones here appear to be oxytocin and vasopressin.

Oxytocin

Often nicknamed “cuddle hormone” or “hormone of love”.

Produced by the hypothalamus.

Released in large quantities during sex, breastfeeding, and childbirth.

This may seem like a very strange assortment of activities – not all of which are necessarily enjoyable – but the common factor here is that all of these events are precursors to bonding.

It also makes it pretty clear why having separate areas for attachment, lust, and attraction is important: we are attached to our immediate family, but those other emotions have no business there (and let’s just say people who have muddled this up don’t have the best track record).

The Brain During a Kiss

The brain goes into overdrive during the all-important kiss.

It dedicates a disproportionate amount of space to the sensation of the lips in comparison to much larger body parts.

During a kiss, this lip sensitivity causes our brain to create a chemical cocktail that can give us a natural high.

This cocktail is made up of three chemicals, all designed to make us feel good and crave more: dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin.

Like any cocktail, this one has an array of side-effects.

The combination of these three chemicals work by lighting up the 'pleasure centres' in our brain.

The dopamine released during a kiss can stimulate the same area of the brain activated by heroin and cocaine. As a result, we experience feelings of euphoria and addictive behaviour.

Oxytocin fosters feelings of affection and attachment. This is the same hormone that is released during childbirth and breastfeeding.

Finally, the levels of serotonin present in the brain whilst kissing look a lot like those of someone with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

No wonder the memory of a good kiss can stay with us for years.

Love happens less in the heart and more in the brain, where hormonal releases and brain chemicals are triggered.

Dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin are some of the key neurotransmitters that help you feel pleasure and satisfaction.

So, your body often approaches love as a cycle.

It feels good to be with that person, so your brain says, "Do that again."

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ⚜ Writing Notes & References

Thanks so much for your kind words. Hope you're doing well yourself! Would love to read your writing if these notes inspire you.

Crafting a Fantasy Language: 25 Writing Prompts for World-Builders and Storytellers

Creating a unique language for your fantasy world is one of the most exciting and immersive ways to bring depth and authenticity to your world-building. It can shape how your characters interact, define their culture, and influence their history and magic systems.

But where do you start?

Below are 25 writing prompts to help you build a prosperous, culturally embedded language that feels as alive as the world you create.

Root Words and Origins

Start by developing core root words. For example, words like “life,” “death,” or “magic” are central to the culture. How do these root words evolve into other terms? Are they tied to mythology or historical events?

Phonetic Rules

What does your language sound like? Decide on familiar sounds and patterns. Do certain phonetic combinations carry spiritual or cultural significance? For instance, soft sounds are for peace, and harsh sounds are for power.

Honorifics and Titles

Design a system for titles and respect. Is there a specific way to address elders, warriors, or magical beings? Do different regions or classes use distinct honorifics?

Grammar Rules

Create unique grammar rules. How does your language handle sentence structure, tense, or gender? Is time expressed differently, or does your language have an untranslatable concept?

Cultural Influence on Language

How does culture shape the language? Does it have specific words for rituals, nature, or emotions that don’t translate directly into our languages? How do spiritual beliefs influence everyday speech?

Language Evolution Over Time

Write a brief history of how the language evolved. Did it splinter into dialects or undergo drastic changes? How does the ancient version of the language differ from the modern one?

Idioms and Metaphors

Create idioms reflecting the culture’s beliefs. What do they say to describe someone wise, foolish, or lucky? How do natural elements like mountains or storms influence these expressions?

Magical Incantations

Develop a system of magical language. Are there special words or sounds that must be used for spell-casting? How does the culture perceive these words—sacred or dangerous?

Formal vs. Informal Speech

Establish formal and informal registers in your language. How do characters speak to authority figures versus friends? Is formal speech more flowery or simply more rigid?

Writing System

Does your language use runes, symbols, or an alphabet? Is writing reserved for the elite or magical classes? The activation of certain words might require inscribing them on stone or parchment.

Emotion in Language

Examine how the language conveys emotions. Does it have words for nuanced feelings, like a specific term for unrequited love or a parent’s pride?

Sound Symbolism

Consider how the sound of a word reflects its meaning. For example, long vowel sounds might be used for beauty or calm, while short, sharp sounds are reserved for urgency or anger.

Names and Naming Conventions

Create naming traditions. Are names passed down or chosen based on events or personality traits? Does a name hold magical power, shaping one’s destiny?

Dialect and Regional Variations

Imagine how different regions or social groups speak. Does one region speak in a formal tone while another uses a clipped, more casual dialect? How do these differences cause misunderstandings?

Proverbs and Wisdom

Develop proverbs or sayings that reflect cultural wisdom. What does the culture say about offering advice or warning against danger? How are these proverbs tied to religion or folklore?

Cursing and Insults

Craft curse words or insults. What offends people in this culture? Are insults based on personal bravery, family honor, or physical appearance?

Historical or Dead Language

Create a dead language that was once widely spoken but only used in rituals. How does it influence the current language? Is it studied by scholars or magicians?

Gestures and Body Language

Does the culture rely on body language alongside speech? What gestures complement or emphasize words? Are there specific hand movements or bows tied to certain phrases?

Language and Religion

Explore the relationship between language and religion. Are there sacred words only spoken by priests or during rituals? Does the language invoke gods or magical forces?

Borrowed Words

Create words the language has borrowed from neighboring cultures. How have they been adapted, and what tensions exist between the borrowing and original cultures?

Linguistic Taboo

Are there forbidden words or phrases? How is breaking this taboo viewed—does it bring misfortune or divine wrath? Are these taboos tied to ancient magic or politics?

Wordplay and Riddles

Develop a tradition of wordplay or riddles. How do these reflect cultural values? Is wordplay used for humor, or does it hold deeper, more philosophical meaning?

Poetry and Song

Write a poem or song in your fantasy language. How does the structure of the language shape its poetic forms? Are certain sounds or words reserved for religious or ceremonial songs?

Powerful Words

In some cultures, words are believed to hold power. Write a scene where a character uses a single word to summon magic or change someone’s fate. What makes this word so powerful?

Silent Communication

Create a silent form of communication—hand signs or gestures used for secrecy, combat, or ritual. Who uses it, and why was it developed? How does it interact with spoken language?

Building a fantasy language isn’t just about creating a cool set of sounds or words—it’s about breathing life into your world. Every phrase, idiom, and root word carries cultural, historical, and magical weight, giving depth to your world’s characters and lore. Use these prompts to develop a language that feels alive and connected to the people who speak it.

Have you crafted a unique language for your world? Reply and tell me about the most exciting aspect of your creation.

— Rudy Francisco

posts requests are officially…

below the cut are some creative writing topics i’ve been thinking of posting about, but i want you all to help choose what’s next.

drop the emoji of the question you'd like in my asks and i’ll give it a go!

if the question is dashed out, i’ve already posted about it, go take a look c:

Character Creation & Development

🔄 Character Arcs: How does your character evolve throughout the story?

🧍Character Voice: How can you make your character’s dialogue distinctive?

💡 Character Motivation: What drives your character forward?

👥 Relationships: How do your characters’ relationships shape their actions?

⚖️ Flaws vs. Strengths: How do you balance a character's flaws and strengths?

Dialogue Writing

🗣️ Realistic Conversations: How do you make dialogue sound natural?

🤐 Subtext: How can your characters say something without explicitly saying it?

📜 Exposition in Dialogue: How do you reveal backstory through dialogue without info-dumping?

🔇 Silence: How can silence in dialogue speak louder than words?

Worldbuilding

🏙️ Setting: How do you make your world feel lived-in?

🌍 Culture: What are the key cultural norms in your world?

🛠️ Technology: How does technology shape daily life in your world?

🏛️ Political Structure: What type of government exists in your world, and how does it impact the characters?

🌦️ Climate: How does the climate or weather affect your world?

🐉 Magic System: What are the rules and limits of magic in your world?

📜 World History: How do major historical events alter your characters and their motivations?

Plot Structure

🌀Conflict: What is your story’s central conflict, and how does it escalate?

🏁 Resolution: How can you provide a satisfying conclusion to your story?

⏳ Pacing: How do you balance action and slower scenes to keep readers engaged?

💥 Raising Stakes: How do you increase tension and make conflicts more intense?

🧩 Plot Twists: How can you set up twists that are both surprising and inevitable?

Thematic Development

🧭 Moral Dilemmas: How do your characters wrestle with ethical choices?

👑 Power and Corruption: How does power influence characters in your world?

🌌 Fate vs. Free Will: How do these forces shape a character's choices?

👑 Legacy: What impact do your characters’ actions leave on the world?

Conflict

⚔️ Internal Conflict: How do you make your character’s inner struggle feel authentic?

🤜🏾 External Conflict: What forces in the world are pushing against your character’s goals?

🌊 Man vs. Nature: How does the environment act as an antagonist in your story?

💣 Conflict Escalation: How do you intensify a conflict without repeating the same beats?

Villain Developments

🧛 Villain Motivation: What does your villain want, and why?

🤔 Villain Complexity: How can you make your villain morally ambiguous?

🕸️ Sympathetic Villain: How do you make readers understand (if not agree with) your villain’s perspective?

💥 Villain's Weakness: What is the emotional or physical weakness of your villain?

Scene Writing

🎬 Action Scenes: How do you write fight scenes that are engaging and easy to follow?

🌅 Descriptive Scenes: How can you create atmosphere without overloading on description?

🎭 Character Reactions: How do your characters’ emotions and body language drive a scene?

⛓️ Transitions: How do you smoothly shift from one scene to the next?

Emotional Engagement

💔 Tragedy and Loss: How do you write emotional scenes that hit hard Tension: How do you create and maintain emotional tension between characters?

😢 Catharsis: How do you offer emotional release for readers after a climactic moment?

Backstory Integration

🔮 Revealing Backstory: How can you weave backstory into the narrative without info-dumping?

🪙 Trauma and Recovery: How does your character’s past trauma affect their present?

🏚️ Old Scars: How do past mistakes or regrets shape your characters’ decisions?

🗝️ Secrets: What is your character hiding, and how does it impact their relationships?

Genre Exploration

🏰 Fantasy Tropes: How can you subvert common fantasy tropes in your writing?

🕵️ Mystery: How do you plant clues without making the plot predictable?

👽 Sci-Fi World-building: How can technology or alien cultures push the boundaries of your world?

🖤 Horror: How do you create a sense of dread in your scenes?

💖 Romance: How do you create authentic, slow-burn romantic relationships?

🎭 Comedy in Dark Fiction: How can you weave moments of humor into dark or serious narratives?

i am a firm believer that ocs are a reflection of the self in the way that every character you create has to hold some piece of you to really feel alive. sometimes this is why all your ocs have certain traits, sometimes this is why you can track your various issues and traumas all the way from middleschool to now based on what your ocs are like. this is a feature not a bug

how to respond to text!!!! I can't believe i'm in mid 20 and don't know how to socialize!!!!!!!!!!! Argh

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙡𝙭𝙭. 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© October 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」

“I’ll get you back, bestie. Count on it.”

But, like... when?

A fortnight on from the declaration and the discomfort of separation is so settled under Minho’s skin he’s tempted to carve it out. He doesn’t want to get used to what is gradually becoming routine; her frequent shifts at the coffee shop align perfectly with his own professional obligations and so their days are spent busy and apart, their evenings rarely under the same roof— she has engagements, she says, and fuck if he knows what those are. All he knows is that she glows when she returns, and it makes him feel less than worthless.

The most obvious conclusion he finds himself hopping to: she’s fucking someone else. Someone removed from the dramatics of ‘3racha x everyone’, and honestly, how can he blame her for that? Regardless, he backs himself. Feels her affection in the fleeting looks and passing touches. Clutches at the affirmation like it’s damn life support.

He pours himself into dancing, as a man so in need of distraction is wont to do. He hangs out with Jisung where their schedules align, finds peace and an unfettered joy there for as long as they’re together. Jisung is sunlight incarnate. So giving it makes Minho’s body ache. There’s nothing the rapper wouldn’t do for him, and he knows it well, but it doesn’t seem to stop hesitation staying his hand when intimacy becomes the moment. Jisung is patient, understanding. Knows that it’s not his fault that his sexual appetite has plummeted, but rather the blame of the heartache he suffers, so dense and dark as to eclipse any thoughts of wrapping himself around another. The irony of it all isn’t lost on Minho; he ended things with her in hopes it would grant them both romantic freedom, yet in her absence he feels ever more imprisoned by the obligations he sets upon himself— how can he indulge with Jisung in good conscience when he feels so fucking incomplete? He also hoped that removing sex from the table would encourage her to open up to him about what it is she keeps to herself. No such luck, it seems.

He loses himself to these thoughts in moments of isolation. Fearful of them he does his utmost to ensure he’s not left alone for long. Surrounds himself with clients, with strangers in the depths of neon bars, with Jisung wherever possible, with things he knows he loves, even if he never quite feels it in the moment.

Tidying the studio following a particularly hard lesson—the inclusion of children is a challenging adjustment to his client base, but the parents with bottomless wallets make it lucrative—he mentally plans the next; a budding dance troupe preparing for a competition, always so fiery and full of ambition. He wonders how far over they’ll run this time. The two-hour slot is never enough. Doesn’t think he’ll mind it today. Taking things just like this—a day, an hour, a minute at a time—helps keep him grounded. If he thinks too much of what awaits him when he gets home, he’ll ruin much more than the lessons.

With a half hour before the troupe arrive, Minho takes his chances on his boyfriend. Nothing is quite as effective a salve to nerves as the rapper’s honeyed voice. He retrieves his phone from the sound system desk, dials the contact, perches on the corner sofa. Takes a few rings longer than usual for him to answer.

“What’s up, man?”

“Hey.” Minho grins. “Just thought I'd call.”

“Oh, yeah? So sweet. Always thinking about me.”

Minho’s about to gush, when in the background he hears clinking crockery, quiet chatter, the rush of a coffee steamer.

“I thought you were recording today?” Minho says.

“Yeah. We are. I just dipped for a bit. Caffeine calls, you know how it is.”

“Do I ever. You by yourself?”

“Oh, uh...”

He hesitates.

“Jisung?”

“I’m just with a friend.”

“Okay? Who?”

“Hey, uh, my order’s about to come out. I’ll call you later?”

“Jisung—”

“Bye, baby.”

Like that the call ends, the dull dial tone sounding off in Minho’s ear. His stomach rolls over uncomfortably, tightening, pulling. It’s unlike Jisung to be secretive. So unlike him to be so bothered. He’s not the jealous type, as recent endeavours with his ex have demonstrated, but courtesy of the same timeline of events, has discovered that he most definitely is the suspicious type. And now he has reason to be. Impulsively, he calls Jisung back twice straight away. The first call rings off. The second clicks straight through to voicemail. A wave of unease sends Minho to his feet, to pacing, where he spends the next fifteen minutes until the dance troupe arrive. They’re loud and raring to go. Minho’s head throbs.

“What’s up, man!?” One of them hollers, all smiles and lovely energy. Nothing in their world is going tits up, clearly.

“Let’s get started,” Minho grumbles. “We cannot run over today.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

THE STATUE : lee minho

kinktober

pairing: lee minho x afab!reader

warnings: predator/prey chase, manhandling, messy kissing, spit, unprotected sex, face slapping, thigh riding, creampie

a/n: despite the tags this is actually a lot more tender horny than you might expect LOL. i had soo much fun writing this one! i hope you all enjoy as much as i did. reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)

the grass is cool underneath your bare feet when you step through the second door. 

you didn’t change clothes when you opened the door back into your home hallway after your time with chan, but like magic, your attire changes right as you step into this particular world. you don a white sundress now, something flowy and thin and comfortable enough that you might try to sneak it back into your own closet when you get back home. 

it’s midday here in the garden. the sun shines brightly, and the flowers lift toward it with reaching petals and growing stems. 

the hedges are neatly trimmed, as always, snipped finely into squares and circles and — cats? it almost looks like a totem pole. it’s cute, a new addition to the garden that you haven’t seen before but will certainly never miss. the tall bush is sheared into the shape of three cat heads. they sit on top of each other, peering into the garden with pretty petal eyes and neatly pointed ears. 

there’s a quaint garden table set placed next to it, and you can’t help but laugh. of course minho would want to spend his time relaxing next to the cat bush after a long day filled with gardening, sipping a cool glass of ice lemonade and kicking his feet up in the chair opposite of him. 

you sit for a moment at the cute little bistro set, plucking minutely at the hem of your dress and taking in the beautiful efforts minho has made in the garden. it’s his pride and joy, his life’s work, and you are always able to see his dedicated endeavors in maintaining the greenery before you.

the garden maze is your favorite thing he’s created. it’s breathtaking - made solely of rows and rows of pristinely clipped bushes. they wind and swirl until you find your way to the eye of it, the middle, where a great fountain sits. 

the only fountain you’re interested in now though is the one sitting right across the garden. you can see it plainly from where you’re resting in the chair, you can hear the splashing of the water where it flows serenely from the tiers and into the receptacle at the bottom. minho’s there, as always. stone still and frozen in a kneel as the watering basin he holds pours endlessly into the fountain. he’s handsome even like this; his cast stone features still manage to make warmth bloom in your stomach just like his human skin does. 

it’s with said warmth blooming that you decide to make your way to the fountain. you stare at minho from across the water, the flow distorting his features before you. it’s blissfully cool when you lift your foot to step into the fountain, rucking up the bottom of your dress and clutching the fabric to your thighs so it doesn’t get wet. you walk slowly across the fountain, feet splashing in the water, until you reach the edge of it where minho sits. 

you lower yourself onto your knees in front of him. it doesn’t matter that the bottom of your dress falls into the water now, nothing matters but the statue in front of you. your fingers trail along his thighs first, his thick thighs that already have your mouth watering. they trace his shin, the top of his foot, the smooth plain of his stomach. a giggle floats between your teeth because you know he knows what you’re doing; you know he can feel your touch. 

the water sloshes lightly when you lean forward. his cheek is cool and hard against the pucker of your soft lips, a juxtaposition you’ve come to be quite fond of. your lips kiss his cheek, his neck, and it isn’t until your hand reaches between his legs for his cock that you kiss his mouth. it’s something chaste and sweet, as sweet as it can be to kiss a statue. he likes this though - the naughty game you play together, the fact that he turns you on even like this.

his cock is soft, hard as rock between your fingers but naturally soft, even though you know he won’t be for long. his lips are the same, but the smallest shudder of breath coming from between the thin seam of them has you easing back on your haunches. 

minho begins to thaw under your fingertips. you can feel the stone transforming into something softer, something human. 

when you look up and into his eyes, they’re brown and filled with mirth. his pupils shake when they search yours, and you grin at him before standing to your feet. 

it takes a while sometimes, this process does. every ounce of minho’s handsome body must turn from stone back into human flesh - you can hear the stone cracking and shifting slowly as it does. you were worried it was painful at first, but minho reassured you once that it was more of a nuisance than anything else, more painful of a wait than actual pain. 

you take a step back as his hair turns dark and silky and falls over his forehead. 

“hi, minho,” you say, a toothy grin still spread wide on your face. “i’d kiss you again, but i think you’re gonna have to catch me if you want it…” 

that’s when you break off into a sprint, feet high-stepping over the wall of the fountain and carrying you quickly to the mouth of the garden maze. you risk one look back, one look just to see how far his transformation has come and how much of a head start you have, and you see a sharp grin spreading over his softening features. 

adrenaline is already pumping hard through your body, so you turn around to hightail it into the maze. 

you’ve been all the way through it before — several times even — but the maze always seems to change. it seems never ending, impossible. you make it past the first swirl of bushes before you hear minho’s water basin drop to the ground with a heavy clang. it almost makes you squeal, fear spiking and making your chest hot to the touch where your heart beats frantically. you slap a hand over your mouth to keep silent and remain on the path, sprinting around bushy dead ends and past the curves and endless angles of the walls inside the maze. 

it almost feels like a scene from a horror movie, something you’d watch huddled under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn in your lap and a hand half covering your eyes when the music picks up. a damsel in distress, running panic-stricken through the woods and tripping over nothing while the slasher walks behind, slowly and sinisterly. they always get caught in the end, don’t they? 

minho cackles when he reaches the entrance to the maze - it sends another chill down your spine, heart pounding in your chest. it’s only a matter of time before he finds you, but you’ll make him work for it until he does. you take another hurried turn and run right into a dead end. there’s no time to think, not with minho catching up with you. he knows this maze frontwards and backwards and with his eyes closed. he made it with his own hands after all. 

you sprint through the maze as best you can until you’re nearly gasping for breath. the grass is cool and soft underneath your feet, soft enough that the rustle of them through the blades is quieter than it would be anywhere else. 

minho makes his presence known though, and he does it on purpose because he knows how much it makes your heart pound. you can hear that joyous, maniacal laugh every so often; his hands shake the bushes so that you can hear him coming. he’s closing in on you, he’s closer than you thought, and you can’t help the broken whimper you let out when you meet another dead end head on. a split second decision has you dropping to your knees and crawling underneath the wall of the bush, scooting deep enough under it that minho can’t possibly see the white of your dress, the color of your sweat-slicked skin. 

your hand comes to your mouth to stop the gasp you want to let free so badly. his bare feet walk slowly around the corner and he pauses where he stands. all you can do is lay there and wait with bated breath. it catches in your throat and your body locks completely still when he steps towards the bush you’re hiding under. 

“blossom,” he sings, something airy and faux sweet. your eyes squeeze shut. “where did my pretty petal go?” 

he laughs. you’re almost expecting him to peek under the bush to really get you shrieking, but he doesn’t — he steps away from the bush and keeps walking, rounds the dead end to keep on his way. you hold your breath even after his feet move from your sight and the sound of rustling fades from your ears. 

it’s completely silent, eerily so, but you finally let out a shaky breath when you feel like he’s off your trail. 

you should know better than that. 

it turns into a shrill scream soon enough; there’s a rough hand on your ankle and you’re being tugged out from underneath the safety of the bush before you can even inhale the breath you just let out. you kick your legs, digging your fingers into the grass as if it’ll save you from your captor. minho just laughs and blocks the frantic kicking of your legs with his strong arms. he pushes at your hip until you’re turned over on your back and that really gets you flailing, legs still kicking and arms now joining in the mix. 

the look on minho’s face is positively wild. his smile is wide, his eyes are wide, and the laugh coming from his mouth would probably scare any normal person. the adrenaline spikes again, but you’re more excited than anything now. he’s got you where he wants you. a fly in the maw of a venus fly trap. completely, utterly caught. 

your arms tire quicker than you like, or maybe minho’s just that strong. he pins them to the ground with an ease that has heat swirling in your gut, has your cunt clenching desperately already. 

it’s then that your legs give out. they spread on their own, without his insistent coaxing. it’s hard to keep up with anyway, the facade you put up… like you don’t want to be exactly where you are. like you didn’t want him to catch you in the first place. 

minho cocks his head and it has you whimpering. if you pout hard enough, your eyes will tear up. you know he’ll love that. 

he coos at you when your eyes begin to glisten. 

“pretty dew drops,” minho sighs. “in those teary little eyes…” 

you’re beautifully pliant when he fusses with your dress. minho loves sundresses on you, loves the ease they give him to get at your body and loves how they look on you in general. the white makes you look more innocent than the two of you know you are, pure, virgin white. esteemed lily of the valley, radiant gardenia. 

minho’s devilish grin softens as your body is bared to him. he eyes the swell of your tits, the softness of your stomach. minho kneads at your hips, digs his fingers into your skin until you’re writhing. 

“why would you ever run from me when i would find you anywhere?” he hums. “i’ll find you every time, no matter what. all i wanted was my kiss.” 

he gets it — takes it. minho blankets you when he leans down, and your lips are parting for him before his lips even reach yours. he surprises you then, a small ounce of payback for the little game you played, by taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting. it’s hard enough that your eyes squeeze shut; it forces a tear to trail into your hairline and a pitiful whimper to leave your mouth. he tugs at it meanly with his teeth until finally letting go to kiss you for real. it’s rough from the start, all spit and tongue and teeth, and minho takes charge of it completely. you kiss him back with all you’re worth, arching against his body and circling his tongue with yours messily until he’s patting your cheek to get your attention. 

minho grips your chin with two fingers and uses his hold on you to open your mouth. your tongue lolls out because you know he wants, and minho sucks it between his lips. your stomach clenches and your hips roll, bucking wildly against his thick thigh that rests snugly between your legs. minho’s cheeks hollow as he sucks sloppily on your tongue. heat builds and builds and builds in your stomach at the noises it makes. his plump lips are slick when he pulls back, and you know what he wants before he ever opens his mouth to speak. you stick your tongue out of your mouth further just for minho to slap it with two fingers. it doesn’t take long for a glob of frothy spit to land on your quivering tongue — no sooner than it lands does minho lean in again with his lips pursed, spreading the spit on the pad of your wet tongue with his lips. it’s sloppy, so fucking sloppy, and spit trails down your chin when he pushes more saliva through the pucker of his lips and onto your waiting tongue. 

you only swallow the mess when he pulls away to see what he’s made of you. you make a show of it for him too, swiping your fingers against your sopping wet chin and pushing the remnants between your lips, sucking on your fingers. 

“you put up such a fight, but look at you now…” 

writhing on the grass, dress pushed over your tits and your fingers fucking your own mouth. call it what it is; you’re whoring yourself out for him. 

“i just wanted to play with you,” you whine, fingers slipping from your slick mouth. 

minho eases onto his elbows and cubs your cheek in one of his warm palms while the other places itself on the crown of your head. he’s always so warm, as bright as the sun, that’s why the flowers trust him so much. 

“playful petal.” 

he nuzzles his nose against yours, kisses your top lip before gazing into your bleary eyes. there’s a tender, closed-mouth smile on his face that he only reserves for the things he loves, and you’re lucky enough to be one of them. his eyelashes are so long, you’d count them one by one if you only had the wherewithal. minho’s thumb taps a rhythm against your cheek that has you gasping, and you nod your head earnestly because you know what he’s asking. 

his hand doesn’t rear back until your eyebrows furrow with want. 

you register the crack of the slap before you feel its sting, and both have you moaning into the air between you. the hit would have had your head shunting to the side, but minho’s hand on your head keeps you in place. he breathes in your moan, kisses it softly from your lips as his thumb caresses the heated skin of your cheek. 

“yes!” you warble, voice catching in your throat. “fucking- yes! please, a-again?” 

“i’m so nice to you, giving you everything you want,” he sighs like he’s put upon, but he’s far from that. the hand from your cheek reaches down to grip at your hips, pulling at it until you’re grinding against his thigh again. once the circling of your hips picks up in a frantic rhythm, he slaps you again. you clutch at his shoulders like your life depends on it, like he’s the only thing that can ground you. it feels too good, too much, the pain and the pleasure he so willingly gives you. “do you want to know a secret?” 

you nod. that’s all you have the power to do, but you want to know. you want to know everything that comes to his mind. 

“i love you more than anything in this world,” minho whispers against your swollen lips. he kisses you then, a kiss so tender it makes your face crumple in a sob. 

“i love you,” you cry. your nails rake down his back as your hips swivel desperately against the meat of his thigh. “i love you, i lov- love you, minho. my minho, my- oh!” 

you freeze when you cum, body locking where you’re pressed tightly against him. you’re frozen still until he takes your hip in his hand again and forces you to move. you can feel the muscles in his arm bulging as you clutch at him, shivering apart with his help. 

“blooming for me,” minho coos, and he’s pushing the head of his cock inside your fluttering cunt before you’re done feeling the last of your aftershocks. you can cum again like this, you know you can, it’ll be so easy with minho’s cock spearing itself deep inside your soaked cunt. you can feel him all around you, you can feel him everywhere. inside and out. 

he cups both palms underneath your head so it doesn’t hit the ground when his thrusts sharpen. his teeth grit, and your eyes lock on his sweet, crooked front tooth. he’s so beautiful always but especially beautiful when he feels pleasure that your body gives him, that you give him. 

you don't have to reach down to touch your clit because the angle of minho’s dexterous hips has his pubic mound rubbing right against it. the coarse hair there gets your eyes rolling, and minho hums deep in his throat when your moans float into the air. 

minho ruts into you so deeply that you’re sure his knees will be stained green by the grass. 

“fuck me until you cum,” you cry. you want to get him there so badly after the chase you put him through earlier. you do everything you can, clenching your cunt until he’s sighing dreamily and running your hands over every bit of his body you can reach. somehow though, your efforts get you there first, along with minho’s cock bullying itself where you’re gummy and silky soft. you bloom for him again, like you always do, pulsing and throbbing on his cock that steadily pistons inside of you. 

that’s what ultimately gets minho there too, and he leans back on his haunches and pulls out far enough that only the tip of his soaked cock remains in the hold of your cunt. he jacks himself inside of you, twisting the base of his dick with a rough hand. 

“ask me for it again,” he grits. the knuckles of minho’s fingers lightly tap against your swollen labia as he polishes himself. “beg for my cum and i’ll give it to you.” 

your hips buck at his words. you reach for his arms, gripping onto his forearms desperately. 

“please give it to me!” he makes it so easy for you to beg. you want his cum more than anything, want him to empty himself somewhere warm and tight and wet. “please, i- oh, minho, my pussy wants your cum so bad. i want you to cum, i want it inside me- p-please, please cum inside me, baby, f-fuck!” 

you’re lucky he’s in a giving mood. he may have jokingly fussed about your little game earlier, but that’s all it was. he loves the chase, loves when you feel playful enough to mess around with him and have fun. minho dips his thumb into your mouth when he starts to cum, roughly jacking his cock until his cum spurts ropes inside of your clenching cunt. his stomach caves in and his thighs shake sweetly - they shake so hard that you move your hands to them to feel it, to feel the way you make his body react. 

his softening cock slips from your hole with a slick noise, and his cum follows when you make an effort to push it out. minho thumbs one of your puffy lips to the side to watch it drip slowly down to your asshole with a satisfied quirk to his mouth. 

you’re so focused on minho that it takes you several moments to notice something tickling at your back and sides. you only rouse from your daze when the feeling becomes more incessant, and that’s when you see that there’s a fresh bed of flowers blooming underneath and around you. beautiful reds and yellows and blues, whites to match your pretty dress that he likes so much. pinks and reds to match the flushing of minho’s cheeks. 

the flowers reach for you just as minho does, but the softness of their petals could never compare to the softness of his lips when he kisses you.

hiii 💚 for the ask game : 8, 12, 17 & 19!!

Mana thank you for these 🫶🏻

8: if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you'd write one for...

— I already said Hold On Tight in another ask, but a second one would be

12: a trope you're really into right now

— I’ve mentioned enemies to lovers and sci-fi and I think I’m gonna add

17: talk about your writing and editing process

— uhm pure CHAOS. I write an outline first and I don’t write in chronological order because than I would need a year for every chapter. there are days on which I write 5K words or more within a few hours and then there are weeks of no writing or just adding a few sentences every now and then.

— editing is… well, I don’t have a beta reader so I just proof read my stuff, definitely overlook a lot of spelling and grammar errors in the process but if I’m honest… I don’t care 😭 and adjust everything for the tumblr post and format it (which is the most fun in the editing process for me!) et voilà that’s it :)

— when it’s a series I’m writing I usually write the ending first (or a general idea of that) and major key points to avoid plot holes as much as possible!!

19: the most interesting topic you've researched for a fic

— I research a lot of smaller stuff… for Levanter I watched a lot of documentaries (and developed a weird hyperfixation) on mafia/gang structures in Europe 💀

— for Kiwi I researched car/van prices to make it accurate but I think I failed 😭 and in general did research about New Zealand and sightseeing there which made the urge to travel there worse 🥹

— same with Muddy Water and seasonal fruits in the Toscana region although I’ve been to Florence before!! as well as the meaning/history behind the word Alptraum (German for nightmare) because Hyunjin studied literature and it made me learn more about my native language which was nice!!

— but I think the most detailed shit I’ve ever looked for was a metro route for my mc in Sunshine (not online anymore) for her to leave Felix at a fashion show and run back to her place. Yes, I researched the exact metro station. (could be because of my special interest in public transport planning tho)

kitty keychains and pudding paybacks

best friend!minho can't help but recall memories of him and fem!reader in the middle of their grocery trip

this is part 2 of silky shorts and stained shirts

genre: fluff, smut, angst (a little), college au

warnings: MDNI! condescending dom!minho, sub!reader, reader is physically sensitive, reader is inexperienced, minho and reader are not straight, pet names, grinding, nipple play, marking, praise, dirty talk, p in v, minho has a huge dick, a bit of pain from sex (just a little), oral f receiving, fingering, minho is really possessive, minho is an idiot when it comes to feelings

w.c.: 11.9k

a/n: i swore part 2 would be sweet, smutty, and simple but my fingers slipped and now we're at 11.9k words T_T hope it isn't too much! i rlly enjoyed writing this i hope u enjoy reading it as well.

you flinch at the sudden flash of light as you stuff sushi in your mouth.

the perpetrator is across you, smiling stupidly while holding his stupid phone in his stupid hand. you notice the people who were just peacefully eating in the dim restaurant look at you both with a disapproving stare which makes you mumble out a quiet apology.

minho doesn’t seem to care, that idiot. you kick him below the table and he just giggles.

“delete that!” you whisper at him aggressively. you both know it’s useless. his phone is a growing waste of every single embarrassing picture and video clip ever taken of his friends. and as someone who’s with him like 90% of the time, you’re unfortunately 90% of his pesky camera roll.

“shh, go eat your food”, he hums, still grinning. 

“i was eating until i was so rudely interrupted.”

“in my defense, i didn't know the flash was on”, he retorts confidently as if that makes it better. “and most importantly, i’m storing memories. be grateful you have such a wonderful friend to do that for you. you suck at taking photos”, he argues.

he’s right. you don’t even have a quarter of the amount of photos he has. you keep reminding yourself to take more pictures for the memories since your memory itself sucks, but you always either forget or you’re too slow to capture the moment. minho says the growing amount of keychains on your phone case were the reason you’re so slow. as if he didn’t add onto your collection with a personalized keytag of jureumi. 

you watch minho watch you thinking about his words. annoying. you just poke your tongue out at him and he shakes his head at the childish display.

after a while, minho finishes his plate and you notice him eyeing yours. you already know what’s running through that pretty head of his. 

by your luck or maybe his excitement from planning his attack, he accidentally drops his chopsticks. 

as he’s reaching out for it under the table with a silent fuck, you insert a pretty good chunk of wasabi into the sushi and flip the piece so he won't notice. 

you eat the second to the last sushi. you know he’s looking at the very last one on your plate like the greedy man he is. you drink your water to hide your grin. 

like clockwork, he grabs the last sushi and shoots it in his mouth in record time, a smug look on his face just a split second before realizing his mistake.

gotcha, idiot. 

you swallow your water so fast so you won’t choke from laughter at seeing how red his neck and ears are getting.

he rushes for the water and starts cursing at you. it’s your turn to take an embarrassing photo of him. you’re quick this time. 

“you are evil!” he shouts, eyes a bit teary and lips red.

“if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.”

minho continues downing liquid and you can’t help but stare. if it really isn’t the consequences of one’s actions.

his neck is all red and his lips are burning with the perfect shade of red adorning them. he’s swallowing the water and you follow the liquid that disappears past his lips and down his throat. he has such a pretty throat. you don’t understand how a person's adam’s apple can look so defined and delicious? you snap out of your staring and tell him you should head out soon for the groceries.

he nods, still glaring at you. you can tell from his faint smile he’s trying to contain that he’s not really mad.

the train to the supermarket is a bit packed. it’s the rush hour so you and minho are sitting together, both your thighs squished next to each other.

you notice minho’s ears are still red. no way he’s still affected by the wasabi? his eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched. you laugh.

“your ears are still red? that wasabi really did one on you!” 

minho rolls his eyes. it’s not the wasabi. not that you should know when you’re laughing like that anyway.

you sneakily bring out your phone but he hears the little clanging of the metals and he catches you sending the photo of him in the restaurant to han jisung of all people.

he snatches your phone from your hold to try and stop you, but it was already sent so you don’t make the extra effort to get it back. you grin in success and close your eyes while waiting for your stop.

you remember the first time you saw him. it was on this train on the way to university. you decided to leave early after having one of those moments of wanting to turn your life around at 3 am. 

you got aboard the 6 am train and there he was, some cute guy with glasses on and a hoodie. he had earphones on and his eyes were closed as he silently tapped his foot to whatever music he was playing. you couldn’t look away. not that you wanted to.

he had an intimidating aura to him which contrasted his cute face. you were a sucker for that so you decided to wake up early the next day too. maybe you’ll see him again.

and yet again, there he was. 

you woke up earlier again the next day. and the next. and then the next, until you formed a new habit of waking up early for the 6 am train even though your classes start at noon. 

you told yourself it was a good habit to form. you felt gratitude for the pretty boy on the train. you never approached him though. you didn't feel the need to. he never looked your way and you didn’t mind. it helped you develop a routine of waking up early and you were glad just for that. 

the speakers announce your stop and minho taps you gently upon noticing your eyes were closed. both of you got out of the train and walked towards the supermarket.

grocery shopping with you was one of minho’s favorite occurrences.

he didn’t think much of it, he just knew it was so much more fun when he’s with you. he always chalked it up to you simply being fun to hang out with and that you’re always able to match his sillier side. almost a little too well. maybe..

“ya! don’t buy too much of that!” he notices you stuffing your cart with 5 packages of the carbonara buldak which interrupted his wandering thoughts.

“it’s my money? it’s the perfect meal for exams!”

minho recalls your late night snacking during last term’s finals and he sighs at the memory. 

you were literally consuming that stuff three times a day. sometimes more. he had to hide the rest of it and force you to let him cook you a proper meal.

of course he almost folded when you looked at him with teary eyes, begging him to free the packs, and that you were tired and stressed and you’re really craving it. you were so tempting begging him like that. nevermind that it’s for some stupid noodles. he eventually made sure you ate his cooking anyway.

he takes 3 of the packages from your cart and puts them back on the shelf. he sighs through his nose while you glare at him.

“we’re supposed to die a natural death, y/n. i don’t want you getting a heart disease any time before 90!” he scolds you.

90 is a bit too much, you think. you just poke your tongue out at him again but you move on with only the 2 packs. 

you are so annoying. he can't help but smile while watching you struggle pushing the cart. 

you look back at minho from his sudden quietness. minho just nods at you to continue walking. his heart warms. you always glance back to see if he’s still behind you. always. whether you’re on a narrow sidewalk or whether you’re ordering in line in front of him, or when you’re both in bed and you can’t sleep due to stress, or that one time you were cheating off of him during an exam. he smiles at the thought. for all kinds of reasons, you always glance back, and for all kinds of reasons he vows to himself to keep being there. 

both of you walk to the candy section. none of you really like candy that much but hyunjin kept begging minho to get a brand of gummies that can only be found at that supermarket. minho saw you looking at the cherry lollipops. you’ve had that before. he knows because it’s what you had in your mouth during a small get-together for his birthday where he introduced you for the first time to his friends.

some of the boys have already met you. you got comfortable real quick with the rest of them and he remembers being so happy that they’re getting along greatly with you. 

seungmin teased him about you that night and he just threatened to put him in the oven before muttering something about how she's just a friend. seungmin just leaves him alone with a sarcastic “sure”. 

he recalls changbin being late that night because of a project. everyone was already on their 4th or 5th game of the night. hyunjin bought a bunch of candy and the lollipop was one of the prizes. minho remembers scolding him for being so childish but he didn’t really stop him since he knows how childish all his friends are anyway. 

you were definitely childish too with two cherry lollipops poking through each of your cheeks. why the hell do you have two? you don’t even like cherries.

apart from definitely childish, you were also definitely drunk from the drinking games you were playing with the rest of the guys. you were getting too close to felix for his own liking and he was unknowingly glaring holes at the younger boy’s freckles, hoping they’ll burst or something. 

he knows you’re a clingy drunk and he wanted to intervene, but he realized seungmin was looking at him looking at you and he’d rather not ignite whatever dumb things the mutt is thinking. he remembers cursing felix inwardly, repeating get your own friend, get your own friend in his head.

when changbin arrived, he introduced you once more. you sat up immediately to bow at the blonde man politely.

and with you being drunk as hell, you blinked at his friend a few times before your jaw dropped, both the cherry lollipops that were just in your mouth falling on top of minho’s head. hyunjin doubled back in laughter and jeongin had to hold the back of the hyunjin’s head to keep it from smashing against the furniture. minho picked up the cherry lollipops in disgust and saw you look at changbin all dazed and pathetic with a “you’re really handsome” slipping past your cherry-stained tongue. changbin laughed shyly and the guys just lost their shit even more at the whole thing.

minho knew you were way out of it at that point and decided to get you to bed while the rest of them continued with the night. 

he dragged you to the bathroom, brushing your teeth for you since you were too drunk to do it yourself.

he got you to his bed, lifting you up and rolling you in his duvet like a cat being put on sock timeout.

“don’t argue. you’re gonna have a terrible headache in the morning. sleep. now.” he said a bit grumpily while making sure you’re still comfortable even after restraining you with his sheets. you whined at him, still not wanting the fun to end.

“but i was winning! you- ch- chan was about to take another shot!” you were putting up a fight although he could see how weak and tired you already were. minho just clicked his tongue at you. 

“and you’ve had too much. you’re sleeping now. i’m not hearing it.”

minho closed his bedroom door shut after turning the lights out and he was right about putting you to bed since you passed out almost immediately.

after a few hours of messing around, minho got tired and left some of the guys in his living room who still had way too much energy. 

jeongin was already asleep on the couch, chan was in the bathroom puking his head out on the toilet (the photos haunted him the next day), and the rest of his friends were so loud screaming “draw 2!” “draw 4!” “draw 8!” that he got a complaint the next morning. 

changbin followed him that night to ask about you.

“so that’s y/n”, changbin said in an amused tone while handing the birthday boy his gift.

“mhm”, minho took the gift and smiled at him. “glad you could come. thanks for this.”

“is… she dating anyone?” the younger one asked and minho’s heart sank so low on his stomach that he thought he was gonna have to pull chan from the toilet so he could have a go next.

changbin looked at him expectantly and minho just blinked before deciding to pull something from his ass.

“she’s not. but she doesn’t really want to date anyone right now. says they’re a distraction. so you probably shouldn’t”

he wasn’t completely lying. you told him you didn’t wanna date around, that you weren’t actively seeking for it. but if anyone nice came, preferably someone you can trust and not a total stranger, then why not? 

minho gulped and changbin looked at him weirdly but ultimately just nodded his head in understanding.

“ah… i see. it’s too bad. but i respect that. i’m gonna hang with those idiots for a while. you heading to bed now?” minho nodded. he walked to his room with a heavy feeling on his chest that he blamed on the food.

he forgot all about it when he saw you. he chuckled at your position: head falling off the edge of the bed, arms in a marty mcfly sleeping position, legs somehow on top of his headboard? he took his phone out to immortalize the sight. how the hell did you even get out of the roll?

he sighed and gently laid your head back on the bed. he maneuvered your body until he had enough space to sleep next to you. he knew there was a high chance that you would be kicking some part of him later on but he never minded. 

minho plopped his heavy leg over you and took you in an embrace to keep you still.

he started feeling a bit guilty for making shit up to changbin. but he figured you won’t mind. not that he would ever tell you. 

he never thought about any of his friends seeing you in a romantic light. nor did he think about it himself. all he knew was he’s really possessive over his friends and that should extend to you. 

but he also knew changbin was a good guy and you’d definitely click well with him. that didn’t mean it would sit right in his stomach if you did click too well. 

get your own friend, he kept thinking. you’re his friend. he doesn’t want you spending less time with him. it would be unfair since he found you first. he should be enough. he huffed one last time before hugging you even tighter that night than he ever had.

“yo! you said you’d buy me two extra cups of pudding. let’s check the aisle.” minho snaps back to reality and follows you. 

the pudding.

normally, he wouldn’t even consider replacing it with one yet he offered you two.

his guilt from… earlier events made him think you deserve just as much and then some. he knows you know that it's unlike him to even pay you back for his greedy schemes so you're taking advantage of the newfound generosity that you didn't know was actually guilt.

somehow they’re all out of the regular pudding. what’s there is rows and rows of the nasty strawberry pudding both of you tried once. he remembers how your face scrunched from disgust.

the cute little designs on the pudding cup made minho wanna try it with you. you ate at the same time and both of you immediately spat it out.

“this is absolute shit from a butt! the goddamn devil’s butt, blergh!” you drank minho’s sparkling water to wash out the definitely-not-strawberry strawberry flavor. 

“yeah, you’d know” he laughs hard and calls you weird.

“it’s an expression, you piece of shit. a piece of shit from the devil’s butt too, mind you. and you’re weirder than me, don’t give me that.”

“i’ll stuff this pudding in your mouth,” he threatens and you fake gag at him. none of you tried any strawberry-flavored pudding again.

“looks like you really just don’t deserve pudding today” he chuckles at the sight in front of him. 

“maybe if you left my pudding alone”, you mutter and he just basks in successfully annoying you.

you both continue on your separate shopping carts while still walking around together. minho is about to go crazy. why the hell does he keep being reminded of you in this stupid store? for every little thing too. like, seriously?

the meat section reminded him of you absolutely fucking up the steak you tried cooking for him when he won with his team on a dancing competition. you still ate it all, trying your best to chew the overcooked meat, not wanting to waste it. 

the fruits and vegetables section reminded him of the time both of you were fixated on mango smoothies for months.

the onions reminded him of that one time he taught you how to cook kimchi sundubu-jjigae, and when you offered chopping the onions, you were silently sniffling to hide your crying. he laughed like a madman when he noticed. that picture was marked favorite in his phone.

the damn spring roll wrappers reminded him of your thin shorts just this afternoon. spring roll wrappers, for fuck’s sake.

the frozen foods aisle reminded him of the time he scolded you for not bringing out the tonkatsu he told you to bring out so you both could have dinner. you ended up sleeping all day in his bathtub and they were still frozen by the time he got home. you felt so bad that you paid for both of your food that night, which then made him feel bad so he went with you to the convenience store to try out the interesting strawberry pudding with the cute packaging. 

the dairy section took him back to that one afternoon where you were both here doing your groceries, and an old couple asked him to reach for the milk brand at the bottom shelf, saying something about bad joints. he remembers the goosebumps that ran through his body when the old lady whispered to him that both of you will have beautiful kids like them someday. she proceeded to show him said kids on her wallet, pictures faded from how long ago those were probably taken. he just smiled politely at her. he was certain if you two had kids, yours would be cuter than theirs. not that he kept thinking about it from time to time afterwards.

he exhales in relief when you two get out of the supermarket, light bags of food in hand. you look at him and he looks at you and there’s a pause before he starts talking.

“let’s pass by the convenience store. maybe they have your pudding there.” 

you know the convenience store is a bit farther from the station since it’s the other way. you’re not even craving pudding anymore.

“let’s go”, you say as you both walk towards the other direction, groceries in hand. 

you always linger when you’re with him. a few hours more to see him laugh with and at his friends on his birthday even though you already feel your eyes getting heavy. a few seats more distanced from the train door to see him a bit longer, not wanting to leave before him. a few blocks more in the opposite direction just to be in his presence a little more. the weight of the grocery bags are nothing. not when minho’s next to you.

once you arrive, both of you plop the bags on the tiny table while he checks on the pudding aisle. you notice how peaceful it is like this with your tiny routines you formed with him over a few years. your heart beats faster, realizing the domesticity of it all. 

you pinch your thigh to stop daydreaming about your friend. you tell yourself to just pay attention to your surroundings. 

the cashier is giggling at someone on the phone, there’s a cat meowing for something outside, the convenience store is rather empty, and you can hear minho clicking his tongue from across the store.

“nothing?” you ask and he nods.

“you know, there should be compounded interest in these things. i say one more extra pudding with every day that passes where you still haven't paid me back”, you offer a very bad deal for him. you continue pushing your luck. “besides, that was the last pudding. i was looking forward to eating it after a hard day at uni…”

minho raises his eyebrow at you.

“you’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” he chuckles.

“and you’re a thief! i’m just saying…” you add, still trying to convince him.

minho just shakes his head and gets some sparkling water for himself. you follow him to the counter and the cashier brings his phone down to scan his item.

“is that all?” he chews his gum with a smile while taking minho's money. minho nods. 

you’re looking at the other products near the counter. you notice the magnetic cat keyrings on the side and eye them closely. it’s a little too expensive. maybe you can convince minho to get this instead of the pudding.

“you need condoms too?” the cashier blurts out too casually and you can't help but get flustered at the implication.

“w-we don’t. we’re not- he-”

“i’ll take a pack. thank you”, minho says also too casually and you avoid looking at him while you head back to the table with both your groceries. 

it’s none of your business, really. you knew minho liked to fuck. well, most people your age do, it’s no big deal. there are multiple times when you wanna come over to his place but he’ll text you a little “busy” so you knew not to come. 

there was actually a time when you just strutted in his place without informing him, much like he is with you. it ended when you realized that of course he had a whole life that didn’t include you.

you were in his new apartment, relaxing in his bathroom since he could now afford an apartment with a bathtub. you were taking a warm bath, almost dozing off when you heard the door open and slam shut which was immediately followed by wet kisses and people bumping into furniture. 

you heard them giggling as they went inside minho’s room. you swore you felt your heart melting into the warm water and down the drain that you started to open after figuring out what was going on. and yet you can feel the familiar warmth in your belly because of the same, familiar person.

stupid lee minho with his stupidly soft voice. 

you moved as quietly as possible to get out of the tub but you’re sure they wouldn’t hear you anyway from all the moaning that’s going on. minho sounded a bit mean to the guy but that embarrassingly turned you on too. you felt like a creep squeezing your thighs in his bathroom after a few minutes of minho groaning and telling the stranger how much of a good pet he’s being for him. 

from then on you always told him every time you’re coming over. he doesn’t do the same to you, very much loving going in and out of your place like he pays for it. 

he knew you never brought anyone over anyway. minho teased you for your lack of love or “lust interests”, as he called it. that earned him a flying boba ball hurling from your straw and straight towards his cheek. your “lust life” isn’t his concern anyway. and it’s the same with him. minho liked to fuck and it’s not any of your business.

he stuffs the condoms and sparkling water in his bag of groceries. 

“let’s go”, he says while blinking at you. you head out and walk back again towards the train station.  

the wind was cool on his skin. you are right beside him, the air making your hair flutter as you talk about jisung calling you earlier this morning about some prank he pulled on changbin that minho hasn’t even heard of yet. 

you and jisung have already gotten closer since you two met on his birthday. and since then, minho kept appearing in your apartment more often so his title won’t be replaced.

he wanted to listen to your story. he really did. especially when it concerned his friends being absolute idiots. but all he heard was “jisungie”, “pink”, “butt”, and “burst” while the rest of your words were getting carried away by the cool wind.

he nods at every word with a smile, trying to focus as much as he can. but seriously, how can he when the light from the streetlamp is making your features soft and all perfect for him to stare at, and when you’re letting out airy giggles that interrupts the story itself.

he laughs at that. you clutch your stomach, as if his laugh pushed yours to intensify tenfold. you don't have to know he’s laughing at you and not whatever jisung did to make poor changbin suffer. 

you calm down after a few minutes and sit at a nearby bench with a sigh and a faint smile adorning your face.

“i can’t breathe. let’s sit for a while”, you say, eyes closed. 

your eyelashes are kissing your face and he has never wanted to imitate something so bad. at this point he doesn’t care where his thoughts wander to. he doesn’t think deeply about the implications. not when he can look at you right now.

a few silent seconds and then you jerk your head to the bushes on the right. he looks at you confused. a faint meow can be heard and you all but melt when you see a tiny kitten hiding but seemingly wanting attention. 

he holds in a deep breath as you call for the cautious little stray in front of you. he gives you a packet of the cat treat he always brings, and you gently coo at it so as to not scare the poor thing away.

“it’s okay, baby. you have to eat”, you say as you kneel in front of the little guy. he smiles at that.

he told you before that cats would feel less threatened if you make yourself smaller in front of them. you always listen so well. he realizes how both of your little habits, like feeding stray cats or doing groceries, have seemed to intertwine with one another over time.

you’re talking so sweetly to the cat and it overwhelms him. if he exhaled, he thinks he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from yelling or something.

the kitten comes closer, suspicious of the stranger offering him the food. he takes a sniff, you’re as still as possible, and it eventually licks the treat. you beam. your eyes turn to crescents and it’s the most overwhelming thing ever that he ends up finally exhaling but not before clenching his jaw so hard so he won’t be able to startle you or the kitten.

you start petting it and the little fellow allows him. he knows it’s the greatest honor in life for you. much like when soonie finally sat on your lap. eventually, he collects himself and the little stray allows him to pet it too.

“wish i could put every stray cat in my bag and take it home”, he says as the kitten starts purring like an engine.

“i’ll bring my bag too so we have space for more.”

minho smiles at your statement. the little guy keeps purring as minho rubs just under his ear. 

to his shock, this one suddenly jumps on your shoulders and nestles itself on top of your head. you go completely still, afraid that if you move it will jump back down. 

minho inhales so deep. he starts thinking you’ll make him break breath-holding records someday. 

he grabs your phone that he still somehow has, trying not to make the array of keychains jangle. you laugh at his attempts to not startle the kitten with your dangling keyrings. he takes hold of your phone and takes the picture.

you look at him, still smiling, and the little guy starts making biscuits on your head. minho keeps holding his breath. you try very hard to stay really still despite feeling the ball of fur tickling your scalp. you’re trying so hard not to laugh and squirm at the kitten’s massages and minho can’t help but sigh out all the air he’s been holding.

“marry me.” 

the words are out before he knows it. it takes him a second to realize what it meant. he looks at you and it’s so silent. you’ve gotten completely still and you’re no longer smiling as the kitten makes biscuits on your head. he can hear his heart beating too loud. he fucked up. 

he fucked up. stupid stupid stupid. the kitten jumps from your head and runs to a distant meowing sound, probably its mother, and you’re still completely unmoving. you’re blinking at him, an unreadable expression on your face.

he takes your grocery bags and puts them in your hands.

“i- i gotta go. text me when you get home”, he mutters, still not looking at you.

when you move on from the shock, minho was already across the street and heading inside the train station hurriedly.

what the fuck?

you get up, still confused, and you try running to get on the train he’s in. it shuts before you can, and you’re standing there on the platform, confused and worried.

the ride back home is too loud for minho. loud and fucking heavy. minho was never good with confrontations. he was never really good at expressing what he felt either. 

marry him? what the fuck? he never paused to really think about the possible feelings he might have towards you yet the words slipped out of his mouth anyway. it slipped out faster than he realized that he might actually like you. and when he did realize, it was immediately after saying those stupid words which was why he started panicking instead of the obvious choice of laughing it off.

but he fucked up and fucked up again when he left you there. minho groans, bags heavy in his lap, and the ride home felt longer than usual.

he remembers this is where he met you, right on this train on the way to university. it was a normal day, he was on the 6 am train and you were outside rushing to get on board with a “pleasepleaseplease” leaving your mouth. 

by your luck, or his, you made it inside and sigh in relief. 

minho noticed your damp hair, baggy hoodie, and ridiculous-looking pants with too many pockets. 

you were still breathing heavily and you're holding onto one of the poles. when you looked up, your eyes directly met his. 

he blinked at you before deciding to pat the empty seat next to him. by definitely his luck, you sat there even though there were other free seats.

“thank you”, you mumbled out shyly, avoiding his gaze. he just hummed. you made no advances to talk to him after that which made him a bit disappointed.

when he noticed you bringing out your phone to check your emails, he inwardly thanked the also ridiculous-looking keychains hanging on your phone case.

“isn’t that heavy?” he asked with a teasing tone.

you looked at the voice who just spoke to you and he couldn’t help but smile wider at the shudder laced in your words.

“w-what?” 

“your keychains.”

“oh, these”, you mumble and he nods. “they don’t feel heavy to me. actually, they feel too light for my liking? i want more. some of them i bought, some are given. it’s like a collecting-thing.”

he softly laughed at your rambling that you didn’t seem to notice.

“can i see?”

you handed him your phone and your hand brushed against his. your soft hands. he inspected the thing and gave you back your phone, making sure to brush his fingers past your hand again. 

“i have one in my backpack. would you want one?” minho offered.

“r-really?” 

minho laughed at your nervous state. why were you so nervous? 

“yeah. it’s probably buried in here though so i’m not sure if i can get it right now. i can give it to you some other time, maybe?”

“you don’t have to bother, really.”

“no. it’s cute. the keychains. it would be an honor.” minho said.

“i um.. i’m al- a student in the university at the next stop. i-”

“great! me too. i’ll look for it there.”

when you two got to the university, minho dug through his backpack for one of the keytags in there. he found it under layers of crumpled paper, then noticed his jureumi doodle on it. he handed it to you with a smile and you gladly took it.

“this is quite… interesting. you drew this?” you asked.

“yeah. i- yeah.”

you laughed and immediately stuck it on one of the other keyrings on your phone.

“there! i will make sure to take care of it”, you said, bowing at him in gratitude. 

“well, i gotta make sure that you make sure to take care of it. what time’s your break?”

the rest was history. the train beeps and announces his stop so he gets up and leaves. 

it’s been four days and he hasn’t seen you since. you messaged him that night telling him you got home to which he sighed in relief but he didn’t reply back, feeling too awkward to do so. 

he didn’t come over to your place either. he can’t face you after that. 

he supposes you’d either a) tease him about it and he can finally say it was a joke but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway which will drive you away; or b) act normal and pretend it never happened and he can be relieved but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway and he wouldn’t be able to stand ignoring it. 

you actually went with option b, he thinks. he knew you weren’t good at confrontation either. you messaged him the next day if you could come over like usual but he replied with “busy” so you don’t push. 

you tried again the next day, then the next, but he kept saying the same thing. you still asked earlier this morning, the fourth time now, and he was about to reply the same four letters until his phone came flying across the couch thanks to kim seungmin.

“do you wanna get sma-”

“i can’t stand it”, the boy interrupts.

minho still looks at him angrily and a bit confused.

“i really can’t stand it. you asked to hang out but i can tell you’re angry at something and you’ve been passive-aggressive the whole time”, seungmin finally breathes out.

“first of all, i asked jisung first but he said he was busy-” 

“there you go again. what’s wrong, minho?” seungmin interrupts again.

minho just sighs. he’s feeling a bit guilty now. seungmin always meant well. maybe that’s why he called him next. even if he sucked at confrontation, seungmin read people well and maybe he just needed someone to understand without him having to say it out loud. minho didn’t realize that and apparently, the younger man was already fed up.

“it’s y/n, isn’t it?” seungmin asked. minho closes his eyes. he really is too observant.

“jisung told me that she told him you have been ignoring her” oh nevermind. so jisung told him. minho sighs, not sure if he should say the words out loud.

“i… i think i love her.”

“you think?” 

seungmin is just baffled. he laughs at his friend’s stupidity and lack of awareness of his own emotions. 

minho groans.

“so why are you ignoring her?” seungmin sat more comfortably, although a bit far from the older boy, just in case he says something that would make minho wanna smack him with a pillow.

“i told her i wanted to marry her”, minho says quietly and seungmin can’t hold himself back from laughing but minho continues. “it’s so fucking stupid. i told her that and then i realized that maybe i liked her. i just stood there like an idiot then i left.”

it felt good to get the words out, he realizes. seungmin is still laughing with a hand clutching his stomach. minho throws a pillow at him and the younger boy calms down.

“you’re cute, minho. but you still didn’t answer my question. why are you ignoring her now?"

“didn’t i just tell you?”

“no?” seungmin interjects. “did she reject your ridiculous marriage proposal?” 

“i just told you i left.”

“and there it is. you had no right to leave! you weren’t the one to say yes!” seungmin shakes his head, still smiling.

minho never considered that maybe you liked him back. he just… never did. 

he recalls back to that time he met you on the train. from the first time he laid eyes on you, you piqued his curiosity. from your wet hair to your oversized pants with too much pockets to the keychains on your phone, he really wanted to get to know you better. when you told him you were free until your 12 noon class, that also spiked his interest because why the hell were you rushing to get on the 6 am train when your classes start six hours later? 

your childlike wonder made him immediately want to be your friend. he didn’t question it since his close friends are a bunch of grown men with the interests and loudness of children anyway. not that he's any different. 

so you two became friends. best friends over the span of two years. he was too afraid that two years is all he’d ever have with you so he didn’t consider that maybe, just maybe, that there's a chance kim seungmin is right.

he was about to speak up again before hearing his doorbell ring. 

“i got it”, seungmin says. 

instead of the pizza they were expecting, you were standing there, hair damp, and in pants with too much zippers this time. 

minho’s heart skips a beat. 

you look at seungmin then look at minho then look back at the guy in front of you. 

“i- i’m sorry-”

“no. it’s alright, y/n. i was just about to leave”, seungmin reassures you. 

seungmin goes back to the living room to gather his things that were scattered like he was definitely not about to leave. 

minho stays silent, finally picking up his phone from across the couch and he opens it to the unsent message on his screen.

seungmin gives you a goodbye and a quick hug, and minho grimaces at the action. since when did seungmin hug his friends? the door shuts and you’re heading towards him. 

he’s still. he can’t ignore you forever but he thinks he can’t face you too soon.

“look at me. i’m right in front of you and you’re still ignoring me?” you pout and minho finally looks up at you, your damp hair sticking to his shirt that you’re wearing.

you’re wearing his shirt. you really went with option b after all.

“you suck at proposals, you know?” you throw something on his lap and his eyes go to the familiar cat keychain that he saw you look at in the convenience store. “asking me to marry you and you didn’t even get me a ring.. tsk.”

your words barely sink in and his heart is still beating in a speed like never before. he looks up at you again and there you are, smiling down at him like you also feel the same.

“you-”

“yes, dumbass. i accept your horrible marriage proposal.” you’re grinning from ear to ear as you finally sit down on the couch next to him. you bring out your phone and show him the dangling other half of the magnetic keychain, attached to the jureumi keytag he gave you two years ago.

minho laughs. you accepted. you accepted the proposal that wasn’t really a proposal but more like a confession. you accepted it. you accepted him. he smiles wider at the ridiculousness of the moment.

“and i suppose these are the rings?” minho teases.

“mhm! want me to put it on your finger?” 

he laughs at that but nods. you insert the wide ring of the keychain on his finger and he giggles at the empty space.

“ya, you didn’t even get my ring size right!” he teases, eyes sparkling and heart practically bursting. he thinks he’s never been this happy.

“you really shouldn’t complain”, you retort back with a smile. “i mean, really, you proposed while i’m the one kneeling down, without rings, and then left! you’re hopeless, lee minho. at least i got us something”

minho grins while shaking his head.

“i’m sorry for leaving, y/n”, he takes your hand and kisses your fingers one by one. 

goosebumps run all over your body while his soft lips grace your skin. “in my defense, i didn’t know i’d be proposing.”

minho stops kissing your hand, taking your ring finger and inserting it into the empty space in the keychain right next to his.

“there. it fits perfectly.”

he looks at you, almost too fond, and you aren’t smiling anymore. you’re looking at him like you’re about to cry.

“you are so sappy. i’m in love with you, you know?” you whisper like it's a secret you are never meant to tell. minho looks at you and notices how glassy your eyes have become.

“shh. it’s okay.” 

he tucks a hair strand behind your ear. “i’m in love with you too. good for us, honestly. wouldn’t want us to marry when we don’t love each other.”

he’s sure your soft laughter is better than any music ever heard in this world.

“can i hug you?” you ask him shyly. 

the butterflies in his stomach are going crazy at that point but he lets out a chuckle at your question. he doesn’t quite understand how you’re still able to get so shy with him after all this time.

“you don’t have to ask.”

“i know, but just to be su-” minho interrupts you, removing the keychain from your fingers and quickly maneuvering you on top of his lap. you squeak and he encages you in a tight embrace.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders in return and you just about melt into his hug.

“you smell so good”, minho mutters while burying his nose into your neck. 

your previously damp hair that is now dry made him aware of your fresh-out-of-the-shower scent, and he inhales you in so deep, wanting to stay there forever. he can’t help but press a lingering kiss on your neck.

you whimper at the unexpected kiss. minho smiles at your reaction and peppers a few more kisses. you being so close to him is much better than smelling your scent in your bathroom. his lips continue kissing and he feels you let go of the hug, deciding to grip onto the material of his hoodie instead.

“minho”, you sigh, trying to even your breathing. 

“mm? what’s the matter?” he gets lost in your scent and decides that him inhaling isn’t enough. he licks the skin and groans at the shiver that runs through your whole body. “you’re so sensitive..”

he can feel you gripping the fabric tighter. he chuckles right next to your ear and that simple thing makes you shiver again which further amuses him.

minho licks another spot and he was about to suck on it, but someone rings the doorbell. he ignores it with a huff and proceeds to suck on the area. you let out a tiny moan and he smiles, sucking on it a bit harder. 

to both of your dismay, the doorbell rings again and minho gathers all his self-restraint to remove himself from you. 

he kisses your neck one last time before removing you from his lap. the grumpy look on his face is evident as he gets up to see what was so important that he was interrupted from marking you.

apparently it was the pizza that seungmin ordered. he thanked the delivery guy with a tip, and placed the food on the table.

you’re focused, putting the other half of the magnetic keychain on his phone case. he feels his heart melting.

“seungminnie ordered this with his money. i suppose we can enjoy this.” he grins at the mention of eating seungmin’s food and you just nod while blinking at him slowly with a blank expression. “or maybe we can eat this later.”

minho hovers over your figure and encages you on the couch. you’re just looking at him, smiling like a fool with dazed eyes. 

“you wanna continue, pretty girl?” minho asks in that sickeningly sweet tone. you could’ve sworn that there was concern laced in his voice if his hand wasn’t rubbing your thigh firmly which definitely overwhelmed you some more.

“min, i..” you start speaking but the rest of your sentence dies in your throat as you look at his hand inching higher. 

“mm?” he smiles down at you, noticing your hands digging into his couch. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll take care of you. will you let me?”

you nod at him. minho smiles. 

“but i… i’m not sure-”

“if you’re not ready right now, it’s okay. we can just eat-”

“no!” you interrupt him quickly. “it’s okay. i mean, i want it. now. i just- i’m not sure if i can be good? i don’t know what to do.”

minho’s heart skips a beat at your words. you’re just too cute. how can you ever think you won’t be good? you’re already being so good right now.

“shh. it’s okay. you’re already perfect. i said i’ll take care of you, yeah?” minho kisses your forehead and you know for sure that everything his lips touch makes you a bit dizzy.

“sorry. i’m acting like i don’t know shit. but like, practically, i don’t? i’m not a virgin but i- i uh i’ve only slept with one person so far.”

he giggles at your nervous rambling. you’re too adorable.

“yeah. you mentioned that before. it’s okay, pretty. don’t be nervous. it’s just me.”

“i didn’t tell you it was with a…  woman. the person i lost it to. so i, um, i don’t know how to handle stuff with a guy.” you confess.

minho’s cock twitches at the confession. not a single guy. he’s the first man you’ll ever have. you notice his jaw clench and he squeezes your thigh.

“you still want me?” minho asks, hoping for the obvious answer.

“want you now.”

minho nods and finally kisses you on the lips. 

your lips are so soft against his. it’s so soft and perfect and somehow familiar. 

he’s kissing you like it’s something he’s been practicing for his whole life. he lifts you from the couch, carrying you in his arms. your lips are slotted against each other. he licks over it and you let a moan escape making his tongue slip inside.

your mouth is so fucking perfect. so wet and so warm. his cock envies his tongue at the moment and he hurriedly opens the door to his bedroom. 

he lays you down on the bed and you let out a little stretch. he laughs at your cuteness.

“take it off.” you point at his clothes. he has such a smug look on his face. this can’t be happening. no, this really is. 

he removes his shirt and lays on top of you. 

he’s so beautiful like this. you trace your fingers on his skin, mouth agape at your crazy hot best friend, looking down at you with a smile. you trace the scar on his abdomen that somehow makes him prettier. minho laughs at your actions.

he takes your wandering hands and pins them right beside you. he kisses you again in the same breath, harder, messier, more forceful as if he wants to consume you whole. you whine into the kiss and he all but swallows your noises, licking and biting and sucking all over your mouth. 

when minho’s hands let go of your pinned arms, you scramble to hold onto his shoulders. he kisses down your neck, hands touching everywhere and eventually bunching up the fabric of his shirt you’re wearing, up and over your head. 

“shit.”

his mouth kisses all the way down to your collarbones, then to your shoulders, and he pulls one of the straps down, kissing the spot where the bra strap was. 

“minho, need you already.” you desperately sigh while tugging at his hair. he kept kissing all over your shoulders and down your chest, before pulling down the cups and letting your breasts spill out. his jaw clenches. even better than he thought.

“i know, baby. but let me take my time, yeah?” he says sweetly with a furrow in his brows before groping one of your tits and licking your nipple. he feels you whine and shudder at the sensation. “fuck.”

he keeps his hands full of them, continuing to lick and suck while humming in content. 

at that point you can no longer help but squeeze and scratch his shoulders.

minho lets go of your nipple and grins.

“kitty likes to scratch? is this too much?” he says with fake concern in his voice while he pinches the hardened bud. your eyes close, hands gripping him tighter because of how sensitive he’s making you

“i asked you a question, baby. look at me when i ask you a question.” he brings himself back up to look at your cute face all scrunched up, his hand stroking your cheek with his thumb. this is too much. how can he be demanding yet fucking soft about it?

you open your eyes, brows furrowed in frustration.

“there we go. now answer. is this too much?” he goes back to your chest again, slowly this time, dragging his finger downwards. when he reaches your breast, he encircles your nipple and rubs it lightly, his feather-light touch making you tremble. 

“yes”, you whined. “minho-”

he suddenly pinches hard and rolls it in between his fingers. you moan out loud and he chuckles, admiring how much of a mess he’s already made of you.

he unclasps your bra and dives his tongue into your mouth again while his fingers pull down the zipper on your pants. he tugs it off but is met with resistance. confused, he breaks away from the kiss and sees that it was the wrong zipper. you giggle after realizing what happened.

“you and your weird pants.” he zips down the proper zipper this time, and pulls it down along with your underwear. 

your jumpy thighs immediately close at the cool air in his room but he spreads them wide for him, negating your attempts.

“shit, you’re made for me.” he runs a finger through your folds, gathering the slick that formed and spreading it all over your cunt. “so wet, baby. knew you’d leak for me just right.”

you bite your lip, muffling your sounds when his fingers come into contact with your pussy. he takes a thumb to your clit and rubs. 

“min-”

“i know, baby. it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” he coos, applying more pressure. “i’ll play with it for a bit. you’ll let me, yeah?”

minho’s position in between your legs kept you from your poor attempts of bringing your thighs together. he pinches your clit softly and your hips jerk even more.

“you can’t keep still, can you?” minho chuckles. “it’s okay, i’ll make you.”

minho lays down, eyes right above your cunt. he spreads your pussy with two of his fingers before diving in for a taste. he groans. too fucking good.  

your thighs enclose his head. he takes both of his arms to hold your hips down while he greedily laps at your cunt. 

“mmh” he mumbles onto your wetness, alternating between lingering flicks to your clit, licking down to gather more of your slick, then back above. “hold your legs, baby. be good for me, yeah?”

you listen to him, hooking your hands below your knees. you’re crying out his name and he takes it upon himself to add his fingers to the mix. 

he slips his middle finger inside, groaning at the resistance. god, your’e so fucking tight. his tongue starts sucking on your clit and you whine for him so cutely. he buries the whole finger in, making you gasp, and he temporarily releases you from his mouth.

“mm. there we go.”

minho is already drunk on your cunt at this point. he goes back to licking and sucking and thrusting and playing with it like he said he would. 

he adds another finger afterwards and starts scissoring you open. 

one specific curl of his fingers gets you moaning his name, more high-pitched than the previous ones. he chuckles directly on your pussy and does it again while simultaneously dragging his teeth across your clit.

you thrash under him, gripping under your legs harder, still following what he told you to do. so obedient. 

minho is fucking livid. he’s messy with it. you can feel his heavy tongue and plump lips all over you. your moans are getting more frequent, your legs starting to shake.

“you feel it baby?” minho says in between licks, his fingers continuing to abuse that one spot. you think you’re about to burst.

“min- please. i’ll-”

“cum on my tongue.” he orders and your body follows him. you cum so dizzyingly hard and minho continues dragging his hot tongue on your cunt. you let go of your thighs and push his head crying about it being too much.

he pulls off with a smile, licking his fingers that were just in you. intoxicating.

you’re breathing heavily, eyes closed from the intense orgasm and thighs practically vibrating. your hair is messy on his sheets, parts of your sucked red and purple, your pussy glistening because of him. all of it, because of him. you’re so fucking insatiable. 

he runs his hand up your shaking thighs and you flinch at his touch. he rubs his hand on your swollen clit and you flinch harder, still sensitive. 

“poor baby is twitching. can’t wait to be buried right here.” he drags his hand up from your cunt to your lower belly and pushes down. you squirm. after a while, you finally open your eyes and look at him.

he’s smiling wide, mouth a whole mess, even his nose was a bit wet because of you. you’d be embarrassed but he’s so fucking pretty and it turns you on even more.

“n-need a moment, min.” you say in a hushed tone, still trying to even your breathing. minho nods and lies down next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear again. how is he so soft?

“take your time. you’re so beautiful all spread like this.” his voice is so fond. “could stare at you all day.”

“you’re pretty too.” you tell him with a smile, eyes traveling down his form. 

he’s still wearing his sweatpants and you notice his dick poking through it. your curious hands travel down his stomach to the bulging outline in his pants. minho hisses and grabs your hand.

“you’re going to drive me insane.” minho is too fucking hard and he’s trying his best to wait since you needed your moment. but the way you look in front of him, fully naked with your innocent eyes and soft hands wanting to grab his dick, he might just lose it.

“wanna see it, min. can i?” you ask. 

you’re a goddamn angel. you’re asking permission and that somehow makes his cock twitch. he can’t really resist you, not when you’re looking at him like that. and not like he wanted to anyway. 

he sits against his headboard, motioning you to sit on his lap. he rubs your thighs gently. you’re so warm on top of him. so pretty. 

“pull it out then.” 

with shaky hands, you pull down his sweatpants just enough to pull his hard cock out. he bites his lip when your soft fucking hands touch his dick. he can feel his ego inflating when you gasp and look at it with wide eyes. 

he’s big. you haven’t seen a lot of dicks but you know it's big. thicker than what you’ve seen in the media, and a bit more than average in length.

“it’s..”

“hm?”

“it’s really pretty like you.” 

minho laughs at your statement. you have his hard cock in your soft hands and you’re calling him pretty. you’re too fucking cute. 

you notice it’s already leaking a considerable amount. you swipe experimentally at the tip and he grips your thighs harder.

“baby”, he speaks in warning.

“mm?” you continue caressing his dick, admiring how his thigh muscles clench and his breathing hitches.

“don’t be a brat. you said you needed a moment.”

“but you’re so sensitive here too?” you return the faux concern to him. you squeeze just below the tip and he moans. “wanna play with it, min. like you did with me.”

oh? you’re getting bold? minho clenches his jaw, glaring at you. he wanted you to stop before he cums too soon, but your soft and warm fucking hands felt too good on his cock. he tries to distract you.

“grab a condom from my drawer, baby.” thankfully, you obey. you notice it’s the new condoms. who knew he really was gonna use it for you.

you open the foil, and he guides you to slip it down his cock. eventually, you start stroking him again and he whimpers.

“see? you like it!” you say confidently while minho’s brain starts glitching. “you’re gonna lay there for me, won’t you?”

you’re getting cocky. and somehow it’s turning him on more. you’re on top of him acting like a big girl. he likes that. he’ll put you back in place eventually.

“yeah? you wanna play?” 

you nod with a faint smile, still softly stroking his dick.

“we’ll play on my own terms, pretty.”

he grabs your hips with rough palms and sits you right on top of his cock. both of you moan at the wetness. he grips your hips and grinds you down. 

“minho-” you whine, gripping onto his shoulders. 

you’re squirming again, trying to get out of his hold on. your clit is still a bit sensitive from earlier yet he’s dragging it on his wet cock like he wants it to overwhelm you. minho grunts.

“said you wanted to play with it. you don’t like this?” minho says, his voice like honey right next to your ear. 

he’s fucking pressing you down on it. your thighs are so fidgety but his strong hands are still holding your hips down, making you take it.

you just whimper and he laughs.

“your moment passed, baby. i’m gonna fuck you now.”

minho swiftly pins you down under him, tapping his cock on your clit.

“shit, min-”

“you ready, baby?”

“still sensitive. don’t know if i’ll last”, you answer honestly. minho kisses your forehead.

“it’s alright, y/n. it’s just me.”

you nod at him and he collects your slick on his cock, hissing through his teeth. he pushes one of your legs up, his other hand slowly inching the tip in your entrance.

“fuck.”

you’re clutching the sheets. it fucking hurts. you’re both so wet against each other but his huge fucking cock felt too much.

“hurts, min.”

minho hums, stopping his movements. his tip is already in, and he starts to press soft kisses on your neck again. 

he rubs on your clit and you twitch under him, inserting his cock in you even more slowly. 

you’re so fucking tight. tight and wet and fucking perfect. you’re clenching so hard on him, he can barely slip inside without using his hand to guide him in. he’s breathing heavily above you, and he notices you stopped breathing altogether.

“baby, breathe.” he caresses your thigh softly. “i know it hurts but i promise it’s gonna be good later. breathe for me. try to relax.”

his soft voice is washing over your senses. you nod as you try to follow his words. who knew taking his cock would be so fucking hard? 

“there you go. not used to taking big cocks, huh?” minho teases which gets you laughing airily. “i suppose you’re not used to taking cocks at all. so i should really make this good for you.”

you take a moment to try and focus on something else other than that thing penetrating you. you look at minho smiling down at you, eyes fucking sparkling like he’s waited for this his whole life. he’s really so beautiful. if you knew he’d look this pretty for you right from the start, you would’ve approached him sooner on the train. it doesn’t matter though. you have him now.

“you can try moving again.” you softly mutter.

minho rubs on your clit a bit more firmly, and keeps whispering in your ear while situating himself inside.

“so good, baby. you have no idea.”

“you’re clenching so much. try to relax. for me? don’t wanna cum while i’m not even halfway inside you.”

“shit, feels perfect in here.”

“there we go. shh sh, it’s alright you’re doing so well.”

“just a few more. still hurts?”

“feels full? i know, pretty. but just a bit more.”

he talks you through it and you swear your mind is already fuzzy by the time he bottoms out.

“you took it all. i’m so proud of you.” he says with a kiss on your cheek. he feels your cunt clench around him at his words and he smiles.

“min- fuck, it’s so deep.”

“i know. let me know if i can move, yeah?” minho is gripping onto the sheets. you’re so fucking snug and wet around his cock. it’s better than any fucking thing ever. he could stay buried here. 

after a few soft kisses and involuntary clenches, you decide that you’re ready for him to move. minho pushes your leg higher, dragging himself out and slowly sliding back in with a little force. 

“shit, minho.”

“you’re so tight. fucking gripping me.”

minho repeats the motions, slow but hard, and soon enough you’re squeezing his arms and moaning his name. you can feel him rub against a certain spot and you’re sure you’re about to explode.

“p-please go faster.”

“you sure?”

“yes, min. fuck- just. please.”

minho kneels and presses both of your legs to your chest. he slips his cock inside you hard and gets to a pace quicker than before. he fits so well. you start screaming from him as his dick rubs against your g-spot even better and he starts kissing your mouth again. he licks and sucks on your tongue, and lifts your hips a bit higher and angles his hips a bit differently then rams his cock into you.

“f-fuck, minho. n-not so hard.” you cry out, wincing at the pain of him nudging your cervix. it’s fucking painful. minho apologizes and pulls out, rubbing his head on your clit to get your mind off the pain.

“i wanna try something. wanna take you from behind. you alright with that?” minho says softly.

“o-okay.” you nod, and minho presses a sweet kiss to your lips before flipping you over.

he manhandles you to a position he likes, ass up, face down, spreading your legs a bit wider. you’re a dream. he taps his tip on your pussy, which gets your whining, before slipping inside and continuing his pace.

you’re squirming and moaning much more. somehow, his dick felt even better in this position. minho grabs your ass and thrusts just how he likes. you’re crying out his name.

“mmm. letting me do this to you.. you like taking big cocks, baby?” he says, gripping your bruised hips so tight like it’s his job. you’re nodding, hair messy all over his pillows.

“o-only yours.” you cry out loud. you’re already drooling but he can’t see that.

“that’s right. only mine. i’ll train you to please it. train you to crave it. you’ll like that, won't you?”

he angles his hips and slams into that fucking spot which gets you twitching under him.

“i asked you a question, baby. what did i tell you to do when i ask you a question?”

he gets one of his hands to pull both your arms together, tugging so your head would be lifted up. minho takes his other hand, holding your jaw firmly. you look behind you, staring at him, and he sees how fucking beautiful you are. your cheeks are stained with tears, your chin wobbling with drool over them, your eyes glassy and dazed from how good he’s fucking you.

“that’s right. thought you forgot.” he keeps thrusting and you’re moaning so loud as if it’s the only thing you’re good for. “so? would you like that? train you to be mine?”

minho is so fucking mean. 

you try to answer. you really do. but every time your mouth moves, he just slams into that spot that gets you moaning his name instead.

“can’t even speak?” minho laughs and decides to let go of your face. you fall back into the pillows. 

“i’ll let it slide for now since i have to make sure to fuck you good.”

he carries on with his thrusts. you’re trying so hard to prolong your orgasm, not wanting this to end. he starts groping your tits from behind you, his other hand rubbing your clit in quick motions. fuck. 

minho is so close. your pussy is so fucking wet and the recoil of your ass from his thrusts is driving him insane. you can’t control your moans and he knows you’re close as well.

“you close, baby?” he huffs.

“yes, min. i’m- s-o close.”

“hold it.” 

you fucking groan. minho’s brows are furrowed, he’s focusing on your wet fucking cunt squelching so loud from his rubbing and thrusting. your legs start to shake violently, minho slaps your ass from how fucking dirty you look and feel around him.

“min, i can’t-”

“you can.”

“no-”

“just a little more. you’re cumming with me.”

minho is thrusting like a mad man. his grip on you is so tight, and you’re fucking begging for him to let you cum.

“pleasepleaseplease-”

“cum.”

you jerk violently under him while moaning his name, and he’s cumming. he’s cumming so fucking hard. harder than he ever had in his life. it’s so good. so fucking addicting. he’s moaning in your ear, you’re clenching around him so hard and it’s so wet and overwhelming. he tries to pull out but you’re gripping his cock fucking tightly like you’re made to keep him there. he feels himself weaken and he slumps on top of you. 

it takes him a few moments to regain himself, and he slowly removes himself from inside you.

you were in a faraway place. your body feels too light, but also so heavy that you can’t move. you can’t think either. you feel minho flipping you on your back. he’s talking so sweetly but you can’t really register his words while he kisses your lips, then your nose, then your forehead, then the top of your head.

he mutters something about cleaning you both and you’re too far away to respond. it’s good. you feel fucking great. after a while, the bed dips and he’s running a warm cloth in between your thighs. 

you’re so pretty, he thinks. like his personal angel. you’re laying their dazed, and he thinks he’s the luckiest fucking person in the world. he can see your eyes getting droopy, about to pass out from the amazing sex you both had. 

minho dresses you both, and wraps you in his blanket.

“you’re too cute. i’ll be here when you wake up.” 

after a few hours, you wake up with your entire body aching. it’s usual for you since you manage to sleep in odd positions. but this time, it ached in new places. you chuckle at the memory. you sit back up and rub your eyes.

minho enters his room, glad that you’re already awake. 

“sleep well?”

you nod. you notice he’s carrying a paper bag in his hands. minho drops it on his desk and heads to your soft form on his bed. he kisses you on the mouth and you freeze with a blush.

minho notices and laughs at you.

“i already had my tongue in you and you’re blushing at a little kiss?” he smiles widely. his words make you blush more.

“you took me by surprise is all...” you try defending yourself. you know you wouldn’t get used to your friend being so physically intimate with you any time soon. you can’t help but feel all shy.

it’s minho, for fuck’s sake. your asshole friend who keeps stealing your food and taking horrible pictures of you. but that’s exactly why. 

it’s minho. your asshole friend who’s too sweet and pretty and funny for his own good.

“what’s going through your pretty head?” minho asks, tracing his fingers on your bare thigh.. your smooth thigh he can now touch like this.

“i can’t believe we skipped the marriage and went straight to the honeymoon” you tease. he laughs with you.

“yeah we kinda suck at this. skipping the boyfriend-girlfriend phase and straight to engagement..” minho mumbles with a smile while kissing your bruised neck. “then skipping the marriage and straight to consummation.”

you shiver while giggling at his kisses. you’re so sensitive for him. he likes that.

“wouldn’t have it any other way.” you say. 

his hands inch higher and higher on your thighs until he gets interrupted by the grumble of your stomach. both of you laugh.

“we have all the time in the world to continue later. let’s get you fed.” minho grins, pulling you from the bed. 

“oh and”, minho smiles widely, giving you the paper bag. you look at the contents with a grin of success on your face. “there’s your pudding. compounded.”

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a/n: that was a lot. stretch a bit, drink some water, wash your face. that's what i did after writing lololol. i rlly hope this wasn't too much.. ALSO i tagged ppl who were asking for a part 2. if u want to get removed pls lmk!

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tags: @stayinlimbo @all4minnie @emmaluvsjisung @ddiidi @8bigguys @sunnysidesins

Just when you think you understand a language, slangs and idioms come at you from behind. In English, my first language, there are phrases that can confuse me in a busy conversation.

"We're cooking!" and "We're cooked" have opposite meanings.

"That's cool" and "That's hot" mean similar things.

"Fired up" and "Got fired" have wildly different meanings, and so do "Knocked out" and "Knocked up."

And if you move slightly to the left in any country/continent, they use different terms and idioms! How does one keep track?! Especially when new to a language?

Mature love is calm, not chaotic. Stimulating but safe. Playful but peaceful. It's not a constant high but a steady and thoughtful presence, demonstrated through consistent actions.

In time travel movies, when the time traveler asks 'What year is this?!?' they're always treated like they're being weird for asking.

When in reality, if you go 'What year is this?!?' people will just say '2024. Crazy huh.' and you go 'Wtf where has my youth gone.'

And if you ask 'And what month??' people won't judge you, they'll just go like 'SEPTEMBER!!! Can you believe it?!?!' and you go 'WHAT?!? Last time I checked we were in May?!?'

♡ Chris Birthday Countdown ♡ ↳ D-6 : Tumblr text posts

CHAN WENT LIVE FOR 4 HOURS??????

your work matters, and you're not a very good judge of it.

you can have the fancy degrees and the years of experience. you can have zero idea what you're doing and nothing but a song in your heart. the way you view what you write will never be how i view what you write. which is why you gotta write whatever feels real and good and honest to ya.

i forgot this. it's really lonely to be an author. the world you slice through to carve into a page - it can't ever be fully realized. sometimes the sun is butter yellow, and i can never spread it onto toast to serve to you. i can never describe fully the feeling of a new england october, only that a place that is often too-cold is suddenly full of a strange and visceral warmth. if you're not a writer or an artist, the experience is like this: take a flower and study it. without eating it, cook me a meal that tastes like this flower.

so i didn't know how good the book is, only that i hoped beyond a hope that anyone out there might get a kick out of it. maybe someone nice will review it every few days, i thought. i just want it to help any 1 person.

i did a reading recently where far too many people were kind and thoughtful and so gentle with me that i got into my car and burst into tears. i've had a very rough year, and this experience felt like a hug. so many people telling me they love what i read from the book. and in it, listening to the laughter as i read - at jokes i have long since stopped thinking are funny - it sent a bird straight through my heart. oh shit, i thought. i've been so unnecessarily cruel to myself.

you have no idea how many people read your work and don't respond because they are too shy or busy or unsure. i have webcomics i've never commented on that i've been checking on weekly for actual years. there are artists on spotify i will never be able to see in concert. there are paintings in galleries that i couldn't afford but wanted to kiss. i love what you have made, and i have no idea how to tell you. i love you, and it hurt me and helped me and also sent me back home. i wish there was more time and more ways to shine the light back to you.

be gentle. you have no way of knowing if you're good enough, so you might as well make something that feels good to make. someone will love it. and that love is never wasted.

current fan creation landscape is kinda like if you went to a party with a homemade cake and everyone takes a slice and silently thumbs up at you with no attempt to start a conversation except for occasionally some guy sits in the corner with a tape recorder critiquing the cake as though he was a restaurant critic and another guy is handing the cake to an uber driver like "yeah i need you to find a restaurant that makes cake like this so i can have more of it" and the only person that's talked to you in 30 minutes is a very sweet little guy who was like "hey i liked your cake" and then ran away apologizing for bothering you the moment you said thank you.

“nostalgia is a villain that we are told is a hero, all it ever does is hurt.”

the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

-

“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted.  “My husband isn’t coming for me.” 

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand.  You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.    

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer.  The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone. 

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return. 

Hyunjin was quiet on the call.  Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation.  When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster. 

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business.  He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family.  Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle. 

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you.  When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties. 

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld.  The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved.  Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.    

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call.  Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance.  He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.       

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call.  You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned.   At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster.  You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport. 

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes.  They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown. 

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst. 

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said.   He ended the call seconds later.    

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says.  He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife.  It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat.  “Or else.” 

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim.  “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening.  They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds. 

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth.  Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you.  He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental.  There is a professional distance between you.  His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business. 

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity.  He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies.  He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind. 

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you.  You often catch him staring.  He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up.  His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions.  You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter.   He seems more than content to listen.  He remembers everything too. 

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else.  He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away.  He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon.  He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card.  It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship.  You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations.  There would be consequences if the marriage fell through.  You would be blamed, not him.  Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him. 

He politely rejected you at every turn. 

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job.  It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse.  You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom.  You could hear him cursing above the running water. 

You only meant to peek.  The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over. 

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder.  There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars. 

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty.  His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain.  Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head. 

He froze at the sound of your gasp.  His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair.  They captured yours.   

You held your breath. 

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face.  He looked in the mirror and sighed.    

“You can come in,” he said.   “This is your home too.” 

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through.  Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder.  You could see the wound was a thin stripe.  It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.    

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering.   You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start.  You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut. 

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact.  You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror.  You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever. 

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection.   “You – you have people to protect you.”  You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face. 

“I do,” he said.  “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.” 

This did not surprise you to hear.   It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people.  It is a fact known to few.  It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him.  He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private. 

You have never known another man like him.  Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you. 

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others.  If something happened to him, what would become of you?  Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter?  This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin.  This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless. 

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder. 

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke.  “Please make sure you always come home, okay?” 

He did not answer at first.  When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire. 

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.   

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization. 

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine.  It made him stand a little straighter.  “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked. 

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger.  He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table. 

“You’re a smart woman,” he said.  “I know that.  And I know that you’re – good.” 

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue.  You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself.  He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted. 

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked. 

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady.  You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting. 

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before.  You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity.   Of him, of all that he was, all that he did.  His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband. 

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive. 

You desperately wondered what was on his mind.  The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response.  Was he feeling the same tension?  Were his thoughts the same realization?

 My wife.  

“Yes,” he finally said. 

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so.  It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss. 

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face. 

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time. 

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire.  It was so different to that kiss.  You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that.  You never knew what you were missing. 

Your quiet husband and his multitudes.  All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin.  His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever. 

He walked you backwards.  With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back.  He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.   

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself.  Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath. 

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain.   He looked at you like he already loved you.  He looked at you and saw the reciprocation.  You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled. 

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place.  His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body.  You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now.  It is why it became your favourite. 

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body.   It broke through that last layer of ice.  He surrendered with a choked breath. 

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket.   Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt.  You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard.   You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires.  No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real.   His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way.  He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before. 

Recollection makes you crave another kiss.   You think you will always be starving for more. 

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest. 

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed.   He kissed you again, long and slow.  It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.”  He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat.  “Please, my wife.”  He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it.   “My wife,” he repeated. 

“My husband.”  The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.   

It was all the confirmation he needed.  Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness.  He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.   

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way.  His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness.  Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you. 

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers.  It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth.  He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth.  He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you. 

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time.  He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you.  It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before.  You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind.  His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together.  You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars.  Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses. 

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless.  He always wanted more. 

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled.   However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever.  He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business.   You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations. 

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed.  There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance.  The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing.  But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before.  But while his silence was significant, so was his glance.  Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud. 

You granted him some distance for a time.  When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap. 

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side.  You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants.  His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up. 

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything. 

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case.   His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing.  You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair.  He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you. 

You ran your fingers through his hair.  When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek. 

There were some wipes on his desk.  You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up.  His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist.  He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself. 

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face.  Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied. 

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe.  Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him.  This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees. 

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly.   You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten. 

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face.   He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe.  The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body.  You were completedly naked underneath. 

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began.  It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh.  You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants.  It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.  

“Please,” you said. 

He would never deny you anything.  Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture.  When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour.  You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat.  His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise.  He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth. 

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment.  He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink. 

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds.  That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one.  He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss. 

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed.  The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment. 

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame.  When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it.   His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up. 

 “What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat.  The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower. 

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over.  He licked and kissed back up to your mouth.   “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.” 

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you.  His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him.  It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small.  Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception.   This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like  he was a life preserver in a storm.  The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise. 

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you.  He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat. 

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you.  You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.    

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man.  He understood.  He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure.  His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before.  You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms. 

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs.  It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered. 

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again.  He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over. 

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more.  Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you.  You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world.   You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him. 

You have been out of his arms for too long.  Your visit to your family grew tedious before long.  Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return. 

Now it seems you may never see it again.  You may never see him again. 

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now.  You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue.  You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business.  You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision.  You must eliminate the need for choice. 

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies.  When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings.  There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them. 

It is true, you do not like violence. 

That does not mean you do not understand it. 

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement.  Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown.  You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway. 

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle.  You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants. 

Then Hyunjin emerges.   You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it.  If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now.   There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely. 

Then he stumbles, recognizing you.  You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you. 

He looks nowhere but your eyes. 

“Hyunjin?” you finally say. 

“I—”  He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress.  He shakes his head.  Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say.  You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply.  You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business.  The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.  

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry.  You’re late.” 

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth.  He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says. 

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand.  His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.        

You turn to watch them go.  In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm.  He is fast, effectively disarming you.  He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him.  You throw your arms around him.  The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks. 

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain. 

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek.  He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe. 

“I’m all right now,” you say.  “Sorry I beat you to the punch.  I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles.  That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger.  He tips your head so he can look at your face.  He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find.  He is enchanted every time. 

“You’re mine,” he says.  “And I take care of what belongs to me.” 

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space.  He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless. 

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says.  His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary.  It makes you tingle from head to toe.  “Do I need to remind you?” 

You never actually answer.  You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home. 

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold.  He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.  You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place.  Now, he is not slow or subtle.  He is a force of nature.   He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call. 

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body.  “I’m your husband.  There is nothing I should be holding back.” 

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair.  You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers.   “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath.   “Do whatever you want.” 

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down.  He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites.   You shiver at every suggestion. 

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed.  He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass. 

“You’re my wife,” he says.  The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress.  It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce.  “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.  

This time a yelp escapes your lips.  You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress.   He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.  

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers.  You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next.   You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together. 

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again.  “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down.  “My husband,” you say again. 

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you.   With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold. 

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking.  His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead.  You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place.  Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows. 

“I make you feel good,” he says.  “I take care of you.  You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently.  Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up. 

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess.  “Just for me,” he says in that whisper.  “Just for your husband.” 

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you. 

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up.  He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed.  You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap.  He forgets to remove his necklace.  All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you.   You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you. 

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions.   When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase.   When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever.  When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms. 

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart.  Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow.  Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him.  You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels. 

Before it ends, you change position.  He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely.  He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down.  Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name.  His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body.  Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again.  He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn. 

“Hyunjin,” you say.  “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately.  Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you. 

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin. 

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn.  His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth.   There is no more ice, no more cold concrete. 

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh. 

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly.  It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art. 

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says.   “Just like you rescued me.” 

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him.  It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back. 

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband. 

Hiii I had the urge to tell you this, but these days ive been reading a book called signs by Laura Lynne Jacksn. The autor is psychic medium and there are stories of ordinary people experiencing like signs from spirit guides and their loved ones who have passed to the other side. It really made me think of you and witch boy. I dont know what you believe in but I found it really healing so i just had the urge to let you know About it. Maybe you would find it healing as well even tho you might not be into that stuf (i’m still figuring stuff out too, im that anonym who has reached out to you due my struggles with being inexperienced with dating). But I really got strongly reminded of four of wands and I find is so comforting i would say.

Hello my beloved~ I do remember you, you know! Is there an emoji or nickname you would like me to tag your asks with? ^^

Thank you so much for reaching out. What an interesting ask.

I don't know myself what I believe in. I think I'm a very grounded and realistic person. Then once in a while, I hear and feel Gustav, my sweet kitty that unfortunately passed away two years ago now, jump onto my bed like he used to do always. I feel his steps next to me and then it vanishes—when I had him, he would then go lie down on the pillow next to me and bury his face into my neck. I tell myself my brain is sending me these "hallucinations" because I miss him too much, so maybe it tries to compensate. He was special to me. He was my soulcat. I wrote Aris as a tribute to him...

But I don't know.

We just don't know, do we?

Thank you so much for sharing this with me, and for reading the story in the first place. I'm honored you'd be reminded it of it while just living your life. Thank you for keeping a place for it in your heart, and thank you for speaking so sweetly 🤍

How have you been?.. I hope life has been treating you kindly. And I hope the book keeps comforting you. Don't overthink it—you don't have to have it all figured out. Your faith, your spirituality, it's normal that it changes. You're allowed to change your mind. In fact, it's a sign of growth. Ok?

Take care 🤍