#do not let them mold you into what is desireable

[andthentheywilleatthestars]

Happy for all the 13-year-olds who may or may not know that they're queer yet who are going to get into Uglies because of the movie. Was skeptical but Shay's haircut gives me hope.

[carnivalls]

good morning. thinking again of juve and her dog

[subskz]

…i lost the tag limit war

the reader changing the subject the instant she feels seen by minho is such a subtle but valuable hint that i think says a lot abt the type of person she is, that moment really stood out to me! i know i literally just said this but right down to every minute detail, you've characterized both lino and the reader so masterfully it has to be the most enjoyable aspect of this story for me...and on top of that i just love how you write their conversations so much, they’re both such lil nerds…my intellectually stimulating smarties debating w each other even now 🥰 it all feels so comfortable and natural and draws me into their relationship w such ease!

their discussion abt colors is hands down one of my favorite scenes in all of invisible thread!! it's such an oddly heartwarming conversation and that perfect, out-of-the-box way of thinking that’s just so undeniably minho...it almost reminds me of synesthesia how he describes feelings through color! "the very essence of our humanity" "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean" the way you embodied each colors through emotions/experiences was so wonderfully done, i understood each one instantly like it was a picture being visualized before my eyes. it makes it even more touching that minho and the reader come to understand each other on a whole new level through that way of communicating their moods <3 and for some reason when he gives the example "i feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to" that really tugged at my heartstrings ㅠ it almost feels like he isnt just giving a hypothetical there, like he's giving a small glimpse into his true feelings without saying it outright. maybe he feels invisible deep down, too

them falling asleep together on facetime was so soft and tender ㅠㅠ leave it to lino to ramble abt sous-vide as a bedtime story and complain abt getting SCAMMED lmao the way that is actually smth he would say 😭 "he closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on" this line got me so good ): it seems at first that he's bringing the reader peace but she's bringing him peace in her own way as well...her feelings abt his eyes changing from fear to longing is such a lovely detail and HER COMPLIMENTING THEM!!! HIS STUNNED REACTION </3 "this is the first genuine compliment he's ever received" oh my god does my moss green theory actually have any merit.....does he really feel invisible to the world too...do not do this to me sahar ㅠㅠ but the way he thinks such lovely, adoring things abt the reader in that moment but instead of voicing them he whines abt being hungry....so endearing and so HIM i cant get enough of how youve written minho here ur singlehandedly reminding me why he is allegedly the love of my life

the kintsugi mention made my heart leap in my chest!!! "when you look at that vase, you know it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty" please...that sentence in itself is so moving when you apply it to the context of what the reader has been through her whole life, not just a single crack but repeated breakages. and for it to come from someone like minho; it feels like exactly what the reader needs to hear to truly begin to heal herself...he doesn't coddle her but is still so gentle, putting things into perspective like nobody else can w his unique worldview and mental strength ㅠㅠ and i think i just lost my mind realizing that this scene loops right back to the clay comparison you drew at the beginning of the story oh my GOD....the reader is like a clay pot molded by her mother, broken in places and repaired over and over to create smth still damaged but just as valuable...and lino is the gold filling in the cracks....sahar you are INSANE for this one im kissing ur brain and tucking it gently into bed

the scene w minho in the rain 😞 i was not prepared to see my meow meow upset...but i love the way you wrote it so much. how oddly quiet he is, even to the point where he's not commenting in class or teasing her, and that's the key detail that lets the reader know smth's off w him...i also love that nothing in particular caused his low mood. it's such a human quality, and he allows himself to be human and feel his feelings until they pass. "he knew his emotions would regulate themselves" i cant explain why this line stood out to me so much i really love it, i think it's just such a shining example of minho's mindset...not necessarily optimistic, but practical enough to not be completely swamped by the darkness either. it creates such an interesting contrast to the reader's personality to see how they both handle their emotions, w her pushing hers away and him letting them run their course. but the fact that he typically tries to retreat into himself until he feels better, yet strangely enough, he doesn't mind it as much as he'd expect when the reader catches him in a vulnerable state...my babies ㅠ i also really loved the part where he uses her shower and thinks abt the scent of her soap as he washes up, it's so so sweet n intimate i'm such a sucker for things like that ): there are so many small things minho notices abt her like it's the most natural thing in the world, they're both so attentive of one another

"you were both just trying to make it through the day" and "he knew he wasn't invisible. at least not to you" were critical hits to my heart...it feels like a breakthrough in their relationship—the first time the reader truly truly sees minho, all sides of him, and she accepts them all without question <3

the gradual progression of their friendship is so gratifying to read bc of how organically you made it all flow together!! i adore the entire sequence that shows us how they start to care for each other more and more…the casual intimacy of the reader applying her lip tint to his lips (and him not studying for his quiz on purpose 😭💗 come ON) lino worrying abt her eating enough, the reader tying his bangs out of his eyes, complimenting him so matter-of-factly, and him BLUSHING ALL OVER THE PLACE it’s so over for me x2 they are so tender in their actions even when they tease each other nonstop. it all leads up so perfectly to the point in the story where minho finds himself being drawn to her apartment without even realizing it when he doesn't feel well. the subtle shift from him initially trying to shut her out bc he's so used to managing his bad days on his own, to him eventually leaning in to her kindness and seeking her company instead...and the way she just understands what he needs immediately, allows him to sit in silence and simply exist in peace next to her. describing his mood as "too much of every color" really struck a chord w me as well...i'm just so so in love w the running theme of colors you included throughout this story, it's such a brilliant way to put emotions into words <3

the lil parallels here n there from the beginning of their relationship until now are so cute as well; how lino makes breakfast for her the first time and leaves before she wakes up, but this time, he promises to stay and eat with her...to not be invisible ㅠㅠ i think what's making me craziest of all is how they're both so hyperaware of each other's touch. like when their shoulders brushed while sharing the reader's umbrella, how the reader suddenly finds it difficult to concentrate on her book when lino holds her wrist as she shields him from the sunlight...and little does she know it's the exact same for him too, like when she rested her head on his thigh and all he could focus on was the sensation of her hair tickling him 😭 they are so enamored w each other and have become so tangled up in each other little by little...they don't even fully realize it yet but they've made a permanent place in each other's lives now

"you were already on the other side, you realize. his eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey" oh my GOD!!! ㅠㅠㅠㅠ her feelings abt minho's eyes changing from fear, to longing, to at last the comfort of getting to see the other side of those black holes...this line hit me like a truck it might be my favorite from the entire fic ㅠ i have a feeling i'll be saying that abt many more lines to come when you verbalize things in the most poetic ways imaginable heheh but this one truly got me so good, the delicacy in which you describe minho makes the reader's growing affection for him all the more heart-fluttering~

minho hesitating to wipe her tears )): the way he's so careful abt touching her in any unwarranted way bc he can sense that she shies away from skinship is so devastatingly sweet...and then him pinching her right after to make her stop crying NEVERMIND I CANT STAND HIM ACTUALLY. but the way he consoles her is so endearing and so so minho...very simple and sincere, he knows her well enough to immediately figure out the best way to take her mind off of the issue instead of dwelling on it. "you didn't care what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it" i've already pointed out so many lines oh my god i'm so sorry but each one is like another arrow through my heart ㅠㅠ i feel like this sentence is such a perfect testament to the reader and lino's relationship; they've both seen each other at their best and worst and it doesn't change anything abt their feelings, they care for each other unconditionally 😞 also the reader being afraid of physical touch bc she craves it is SO heartbreaking but so raw...i think it aligns so well w her past bc she's so used to either being invisible, or only being perceived negatively when she is perceived. it makes perfect sense how terrifying she'd find it to bare herself to minho when her whole life she's been deprived of genuine affection...you've really done such a phenomenal job of characterizing both her and lino i cant say it enough!

now...the entire final scene...where do i even begin...i had a feeling the climax of the story was going to hurt but not like this ㅠㅠ the reader's inner turmoil as she debates reaching out to her mother again, that conflicting mix of hating her yet somehow still missing her...it's such an inexplicable and confusing feeling for ppl who have experienced that kind of neglect but so so real and you captured it so candidly. it really added a whole new layer to the reader's humanity, for her to be unable to completely let go of their relationship no matter how painful it is to hold on to...for her to cling to the hope that maybe she could be worth smth to her mother if she did everything right ): i genuinely had the exact same reaction as her when you revealed that her mother had deleted her phone number...it felt precisely like a bucket of ice cold water to the head. the reader trying to pinpoint the exact moment in time where her mother stopped loving her was what really crushed me most...what a heart-wrenching sentence ㅠㅠ the fact that she's tried to hard to find solace in other places and people and tried to grow into her own person after entering university, but even so, those marks left from her childhood are still there...a vase full of cracks 💔 as much as it hurts to read, i love that you included this bump in the road of her healing journey and made a point to highlight that healing isn't linear

and minho 😭😭😭😭😭 the way he handled the reader's outburst is so touching...the way he's immediately able to recognize that her feelings are misplaced and smth much deeper is going on beyond what he sees on the surface...using that astuteness to put his own feelings to the side in the moment is so minho. this entire scene is just blossoming with powerful lines i can't forget, but i was especially affected by the reader saying "i'd need you and i can't afford to need someone else." it's such a tragic summarization of her in my opinion...how she went her whole life being unable to rely on anyone but herself, so the moment she's faced w minho, all her instincts say to reject it no matter how badly she craves that intimacy ㅠㅠ and lino saying "i'll be by your side for as long as you'll have me" is such a beautiful declaration of love...it's so selfless and unconditional, and it fits so seamlessly w how their relationship progressed throughout the story, how they were by each other's sides at their best and worst moments.

"the world doesn't stop because we need it to" "we'll make it stop" and then describing their kiss as like "seeing color for the first time"...i'm going to melt into an inconsolable puddle over all these callbacks to their first date together don't think i didn't catch the ways you weaved those in throughout this final scene..you made it feel so complete, like things have come full circle. i already mentioned how much i loved their conversation abt describing colors to the blind, so for their first kiss to be written that way, like the reader was blind to the true color of the world until she met minho....i am going to be ill that is so intensely romantic sahar ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

"he was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together." another heartaching line ): what a way to personify the quiet love minho provides...it may be invisible to everyone else, but not to her

i'm so sorry for my horrifically long comment haha but i'm just thrilled i was finally able to read this beautiful fic 😞 just as i'd predicted, you're a phenomenal writer!! the amount of love and effort you poured into it went above and beyond, i hope you're so proud of yourself for creating such a stunning work!! it's very clear to me how every interaction you wrote between minho and the reader was so carefully thought out and so meaningful to the overarching theme of the story, it's all done with care and purpose and there's smth special to be found in each line of dialogue! it's like you carefully stacked more and more on to the foundation of their bond until before we know it, there's an entire home there that they built steadily together. that kind of subtle progression is my absolute favorite thing. i'm also so blown away by how the reader's mother, though never actually making an appearance until the final scene, has such an heavy impact over the narrative. it's like she's a ghost haunting the reader's every action, every decision, every inner thought...i find it so impressive how you were able to incorporate that effect into the story without us even needing to meet the mother! and i must've mentioned countless lines that stuck w me throughout the fic, but just know that there are countless more i could've pointed out as well...you truly write so so beautifully. so poetic and emotive, but also not so flowery that it becomes hard to follow, i'm truly floored by your ability to achieve that perfect balance! on top of the story being so immersive in itself, your writing style made invisible thread such a genuine delight to read <3

this feels like the kind of story i'll be thinking abt for a long time after finishing it, the kind to revisit over n over bc i'm sure there are so many lil easter eggs you included that i may have missed! i'm positive i'll come back to it many times in the future hehe...but i can't wait to read more of your writing as well! ^_^

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

part two

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[bunnis-monsters]

The male bee hybrid hive will often fuck each other while waiting to mate with you, but it’s not something they do for fun.

They just can’t work to make honey for the colony and serve you when they’re so pent up, and sometimes they won’t get a turn with their beloved queen for a while so they’ll take turns with each other.

If it’s something you’d like to watch they’re more than happy to preform for you! After all they have no feelings for each other, everything they do is for their queen! If you wanna watch your bee hybrids get stretched out by another male then they’re happy. If you reached out and stroked their cock while they’re being fucked they’d be so happy!

They would definitely get off to watching you masturbate while they fuck each other. They’d also love getting to pump you full of their eggs while they’re being fucked from behind!

They’re kinky little things and so eager to please!

They are very competitive for your affection and will do pretty much anything if it means your attention will be on them! Plus it helps when you’re too pregnant or tired for mating! 💗

None of them are interested in any romance besides with you, and females are out of the question. And if you’re not keen on sharing any of them, not even with each other, they’ll squeal in happiness! Truly, they are ready to do whatever you ask. They’ll refrain from mating with anyone besides you if that’s what you desire!

They��ll let their cocks get achy and red and refrain from even touching themselves if you say so! They’re your boys to with as you please…

Though there are definitely dominant and more assertive bees in the colony, most can be molded into whatever you want.

[bluecookies02]

Viktor x Reader

tags: nsfw, suggestive but on a spiritual lvl 🤌 hurt/comfort. robo viktor and intimacy basically.

[established relationship]

Viktor's new body doesn't feel physical pleasure. Doesn't feel friction or warmth to any extensive degree.

But you'll often find yourself placed on his lap, with him guiding your hips to grind against his own. His arms guiding yours around his shoulder, neck, back...wherever your heart desires to leave a ghost of an imprint. He traces your skin with fingertips that don't really feel any pressure whatsoever, but his soul yearns to touch you like he used to.

And he does. It makes him desperate at first...lost and heartbroken. He has to learn to calculate better, in fear of not giving you a good enough illusion that he is still as human as he was, still an attentive lover that he used to be.

The kind that would spend hours making you feel good, loved and precious. He used to push himself to exhaustion just because he needed to show you his affections thoroughly.

He still would. He still does. Every little speck of him that is left within this new vessel, he selflessly gives to you. The shudders that he lets out when you whine and moan are raw and real, the adoration in his eyes when he does something right and you gasp...it's for you only.

He can feel your emotions and hear your thoughts when the connection between you is at its peak. Once you place your forehead against his and you fall apart under his skilled hands, he can experience the ecstasy similar to the one he used to when he was mortal.

It's yours. It's borrowed. But it gets him high. The fraction of your pleasure that he can feel through your bond makes him addicted, insatiable. It can be considered selfish when he thinks about it more in depth, however it isn't.

Because he would do it all just for you...even if he couldn't feel a single thing, he knows he would always feel utter love and devotion towards everything that makes you. Your plump lips, your eager hands, your honey coated words, your mind and intelligence, your familiarity.

He'd rip himself apart and turn to nothing if it made you happy.

So he's quick to learn. He learns how to press his cold lips against yours just right...all over again. Relearns how to touch you in ways he used to know by heart. The instincts that seemed to die with his body, he has to fabricate.

There's beauty in those calculations. It comforts him. Because those seemingly "robotic" efforts are naked proof that his love for you will never falter, no matter the form he takes on.

He knows that you see his struggles, notice the smaller errors he makes in rhythm, in the gentleness or the roughness of his movements. But as always, you understand him and his body, the state of it, the "faults" as he used to call them, which you always said you'd love, no matter what they were.

This stayed constant in your relationship from before and now. Your stubbornness to love him through everything , even this, and he'd be a fool to not repay you.

So he makes love to you, under the glossy, shiny stars and then under the morning sunrise, on the wet grass or the cloudy floor of his hidden universe. You'll feel him molding his body for you and pouring his soul into you until you're crying, panting and shaking underneath him.

He'll swallow the screams from your lips as you crumble for him, and he'll engrave them so deep within himself so that nothing could rip them away.

Noone can ever love me like the fictional men in my head and I'll have to accept that eventually . Anyways I hope you enjoyed this blurb, if you did, stay tuned bc this blog is slowly turning into a Viktor shrine.

requests are set to open while this season's high fuels me, so feel free to drop by🩵

[jabberwockypie]

So @lynati is out of town today and tomorrow, working, but she has been living her best life and embracing her desire to be surrounded by toy Breyer horses for the first time in 25 years, and is really just having a great time with it.

Unfortunately, a particular horsie, Hot Cocoa, who she had REALLY wanted sold out last week before she had a chance to get her. She thought she had more time, because some of the previous years' horsies are still in stock from past years.

Horf!

So Hot Cocoa was sold out, and she was very sad, and there were ZERO OF THEM anywhere else on the internet - this one was sold only through the Breyer website, and nobody had listed any on Ebay or Mercari. We set up some saved searches to try to get her later if she came up, probably at a terrible mark-up, but what else can you do?

Anyway, Lynati got a different, extra-fancy horse in the mail yesterday, and he's a very pretty boy with blues and golds and purples.

Lynati didn't have any others in this mold, but she brought him upstairs to show me yesterday when she got him in the mail, and I agreed as this was a very pretty horse and flipped him over because I was admiring how pretty the blue-fading-to-purple effect is, and I go "WOW. My god, they put a lot of effort into sculpting this horse's junk."

The fact this sculptor clearly spent hours and hours on this horse model, including what had to be rather a lot of time on the individual veining on the Horse Dick* is truly kind of impressive, but I also find it extremely funny in contrast with how pearl-clutchy some American Girl doll collectors get about even the implication that people may have had sex or might be naked at some point, ever. (There are a whole bunch of people get weird about the fact dolls like Kaya and Felicity don't come with underpants - because they wouldn't have worn them. In the 18th century. And, let me be clear, their bodies are just tube-shaped stuffed cloth with no anatomical detail whatsoever.)

*Lynati will I'm sure correct me that that is the "sheath" and testicles, but I am not a horse person and I am therefore comfortable referring to it as the horse's dick.

So today, I was relating to my friend @lylilorden my amusement at the contrast between American Girl doll people and the Breyer people with their lovingly-sculpted super-detailed Horse Genitals.

(Quoth Lyli, "and the breyer folks just. "these are ANIMALS and they FUCK"". Yes. Yes they are.)

And I'm looking for a picture of the Special Fancy Horse to show her, and then suddenly, at the bottom of the page on the Breyer website, where I see this:

HOT COCOA IN STOCK, MOTHERFUCKERS

So I call Lynati in a tizzy because this is clearly a Horf-Collecting Emergency, and the horf is now on the way to our house. The day is saved! And I wouldn't have been on the Breyer website if I hadn't been talking to Lyli about the other horse's magnificent . . . endowments.

✨ It's a Christmas miracle! By the power of lovingly-sculpted horse cock. ✨

And now, at the bottom of this post - so people can read the rest of the post and skip it if you want - I have gone downstairs to take a picture of Courcheval's junk, so you can all see what I'm talking about here. (Content warning: plastic toy horse genitalia)

[moonchild9350]

Etched into your skin

Summary: You are the artist and Chan is your canvas.

Pairing: established relationship idol Chan x fab reader

Genre: smut 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetration, creampie (don't), acarophilia, use of term babygirl, daddy kink, fingering (briefly), multiple orgasms, cum tasting, mention of blood

Notes: Results of Chan's slutty behavior. I had to get it down. That's it lol

Likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350. (2024)

Im here.

Two little words, illuminated on your screen. Two little words you’ve been waiting for all night. You swung open the door, your boyfriend on the other side in all his glory. He still had his makeup on, his hair a tussled mess after the performance. You were thrilled at his solo, the lyrics suggestive, his outfit or lack thereof fitting, the overall song perfection.

You couldn't help but ogle at your man, happy that he gets to come home to you. Right now, you think Chan is on the same page as he’s looking at you with desire in his eyes. He crosses the threshold before he runs to you, pushing you against the wall, kicking the door closed with his foot.

His lips are on yours before you can blink, his plush lips molding with yours perfectly. He yanks your head back as his lips drag along your jaw, your neck before he lands back on your lips. The kiss is sloppy and heated, his tongue fighting against yours as he pulls you closer.

“Thought about you tonight,” his rasps out, dragging you to your couch a few feet away.

You whine out as he bends you over the couch, hurriedly pushing your leggings and panties down to your thighs. He rubs a finger through your folds, as you keen, moaning out at his touch.

“You’re soaked babygirl. Pussy missed daddy hmm,” Chan said as he withdrew his fingers.

You could hear him shuffle out of his sweats, the material hitting the floor with a soft thud. You felt the tip of his cock tease your folds, slick sounds echoing in the quiet room as he drags his length through your wetness.

You both let out a moan as he pushes into your little hole, your walls accommodating his pulsating length. Chan didn’t wait to let you adjust before he began to pound into you, his hands gripping your hips harder with each thrust.

He worked you to your high, the sensation near sooner than usual. Chan could feel your walls clench around him as he pounded into you, his cock engulfed in your warm walls. He was thinking about your pussy all night. It was you on his mind as he sang his new song for the thousands gathered. No one knew, only him. He couldn’t wait to get to you.

You squealed as he picked up pace, your chest sliding to and fro, from the force of each thrust.

“Mm close daddy,” you whined, as you clutched the fabric beneath you.

“Yeah? Cum for me baby girl. Be a good girl for daddy. “

Chan’s words were just what you needed to tip over the edge, your orgasm hitting you suddenly. You moaned loudly as he continued to pound into you, the overstimulation causing you to cry out.

Chan withdrew from you, a cry leaving your lips at the feeling of emptiness. He picked you up and walked you over to your table, placing you down. He pushed your leggings off completely, tossing them away, before spreading your legs and diving in, his lips immediately attaching to your clit.

He began to eat you out, his tongue flicking against your sensitive bud again and again. You were speechless, the pleasure too much, your hands latching into his hair to guide him how you like. Chan let out a groan, the vibrations going straight to our core, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Need your cock daddy, please,” you whined.

Chan lifted his head, his lips slick with your arousal.

“Babygirl needs my cock?” Chan asked as he looked down at you, stroking his cock.

You whined and nodded your head, spreading your legs wider for him.

“Hmmm here ya go,” Chan replied as he slid within your warm walls once more.

You sighed at being stretched once more, wrapping your legs around his waist, bringing him flush to your body. Chan started to rut into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You were a moaning mess, as his cock hit deeper in this position, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.

Chan smiled at you before bringing his lips to yours for a kiss. You could taste yourself on him, causing you to mewl. Your hands slid down his shoulders and to his back, your nails sinking into his skin.

He groaned at the pain, as he thrusted faster into you. You dragged your nails down his back again and again, the skin peeling away with each pass, the wounds dripping blood.

You were close once more, your mind empty as he brought you to your orgasm. You felt the band in your belly snap, your release spreading throughout your body.

With one more pass of your nails down his back, Chan came with a groan, his cum hitting your walls and seeping out of your hole and onto the table. He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he regulated his breathing.

With a swift kiss to your lips, Chan got up, slowly withdrawing his cock from your pussy, his eyes trained on his cum seeping out. He nodded his head in satisfaction before turning to go grab a towel.

When he turned, you gasped loudly, your hands flying to your mouth, specks of blood smearing around your face. Chan looked at you in curiosity, wondering at your outburst.

“I’m sorry!” You squeaked, your hands covering you eyes.

Chan was confused so to say. “What is it baby girl?”

“Go look in a mirror,” you sheepishly said.

You watched as he walked away, to your bathroom. It wasn’t long before he came back, a smirk on his face.

“Damn baby, looks like I’ve been mauled by a bear!” He said chuckling

He was referring to the deep scratch marks etched into his skin, courtesy of you. They looked beautiful in contrast with his milky skin, the red streaks littering his back from top to bottom. There would be no question how those marks got there.

“Well at least the staff won’t have to draw them on huh,” Chan said with a chuckle.

He was definitely right about that.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @amarecerasus @ivydoesit23 @slut4hee @fun-fanfics @kaysungshine @baby-stay92 @hwanghyunjinismybae

[multiversediiva]

| So how do you actually use your imagination? - a mini guide on how to use your imagination like a medieval sword.

"To understand how man molds his future in harmony with his assumption we must know what we mean by a dimensionally larger world, for it is to a dimensionally larger world that we go to alter our future. The observation of an event before it occurs implies that the event is predetermined from the point of view of man in the three-dimensional world. Therefore, to change the conditions here in the three dimensions of space we must first change them in the four dimensions of space." - N.G

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

(If you haven't, I'd recommend reading this post first in order to understand imagination, then come read this!! If you want, though.)

"The undisciplined mind finds it difficult to assume a state which is denied by the senses." Meaning? LET'S ENHANCE THE POWER OF OUR IMAGINATION!! 1. Define your desire. Know DEFINITELY what you want. Pretty easy.

2. Construct a scene, or an event, which you believe you would come across AFTER the fulfilment of your desire. →SMALL EXAMPLE: If you are manifesting getting an A+ on your next exam/assignment, construct a scene in which you would encounter your teacher congratulating you on such a high mark.

3. Deactivate the physical body (like a FNAF animatronic... ha. ha.) and induce the state akin to sleep - a drowsy state. It's important to note that you must still be conscious enough to control your thoughts. You don't want to get too sleepy. During this drowsy state, play the constructed scene over and over in your head until it feels and has all the distinctness of reality. A little note: In your imaginal scene, you must be the actor of your visual. You do not imagine in third person as if you are watching yourself on a movie screen. You must make it here and now, as in imagination it is, hence why it materialises in the outer world once persisted in.

"The difference will be appreciated if you will now visualize yourself climbing a ladder. Then with eyelids closed imagine that a ladder is right in front of you and feel you are actually climbing it."

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[bbieangel]

Sticky

Joel Miller x F!Reader (18+)

mdni please

You and Joel find another way to make the summer heat more bearable.

tags: smut (duh), food play (popsicle), anal play, creampie, unprotected p in v (do not! do this! pls!), kind of? oral (f receiving), praising, dirty talk (joel doesn't know how to shut up and we love him for that), mentions of gagging (once), reader is abled, afab reader. joel is 20 years older. idk if I forgot anything else.

word count: 9.2k

a/n: this is just another level –for me, at least– of things I wouldn't normally write. please take my phone away? thanks. I think I was possessed when I came up with this. anyways! hope you enjoy.

this was inspired by If You Like Piña Coladas by @gutsby ! it was amazingly written, I loved it and after reading it I came up with this idea. <3

as always, please enjoy and lmk what you think! reblogs, likes and comments are always deeply appreciated 🫶🏻

It all started when you were out on patrol, scavenging and rummaging through abandoned places, looking for supplies to take back to Jackson.

"Anything, really." Maria told you, as the warmer weather was approaching and you needed anything that would help keep people cool. Especially the elders, kids and babies.

Could a horse carry a whole fan back to Jackson? Not possibly. So Joel got to disassemble it while you took the opportunity to look through every drawer, cabinet and box.

"Joel, look!" You said, holding up some molds. They were the kind that you would fill up with juice and fruit, then put the sticks in them to make a popsicle. Maybe it wouldn't keep you cool, but it was a nice distraction.

Joel chuckled as he saw them. He remembered making those with Sarah every summer in a desperate attempt to keep his daughter in a somehow manageable mood, as she hated the heat and made her irritable. You could see the shimmer in his eyes, the kind that showed up every time he thought of his daughter. He has recently started to open up about her, and you didn't really push him to do it: just let him.

"We should keep those." He replied. "Maybe try making some back at home."

The idea sounded fantastic, and there were more molds as you kept scavenging. Maybe you could even make them and offer them at the town hall for people to feast on while they fought the intense rays of sun.

Once back home, you got to work. Joel helped by squeezing the oranges as well as cutting up strawberries and apples, the kitchen ending up a fruity mess. But you didn't mind, if anything, it made your heart flutter at the sight. It was domestic, tender, to be cooking together. Making a snack to make the summer heat a little more bearable for the both of you.

You set them inside the fridge and honestly, forgot about them until two days later until Joel brought them up. The two of you were plopped on the couch, fanning yourself with magazines as you tried to pay attention to the TV with that old DVD player plugged into it, playing a movie Joel had made you watch more times that you could count on.

You were distracted, and you knew it. And he would be a liar if he said he wasn't. Your cause of distraction? The way Joel's cheeks were slightly flushed, sweat trickling down his tanned neck, how the popsicle would drip down his veiny hands. How he would lick it, God, why couldn't he lick you instead? And he was suffering from the same twisted thoughts. The way your lips would wrap around the popsicle.. he was almost sure you were doing it on purpose. Pushing it inside your mouth and pulling it out with a plop! He could think of the times you'd done that with his cock before, the image being burned inside his eyelids.

He couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't pretend he wasn't affected by you.

"It take you that long to finish that thing?" He spoke up, his voice slightly hoarse from hiding his desire for too. damn. long.

"What do you mean?"

You asked as you bit into it and chewed a smile piece of the ice thing, then swallowed it. His eyes followed the movement of your throat and oh, you knew.

He wanted to erase that shit-eating grin off your face with the tip of his cock, smearing his precum all over your—

"You know what I mean. You're doing it on purpose."

"And you aren't?" You leaned forward, and that made him feel like he'd been caught red-handed. Truth was that, yes, he had been slurping at the thing like he would swallow your juices whenever he found himself on his favorite place on earth: between your legs.

"What if I am?"

"What if I am too?"

The silence between you grew thick, like a string that was taunt with too much tension. Until he snapped it, grabbing the popsicle and shoving it into your mouth. You tried to protest by whining his name.

"Shut up." He spoke as he quickly worked to take off your shorts. He pushed them down and immediately placed his head between your legs, making you open your mouth so much that the popsicle almost fell. He caught it and put it back into your mouth.

"Keep suckin' it, sweetheart. Don't stop 'til I tell ya so."

And you obliged, a small smile on your face as you loved experimenting new things with your man. He licked a long stripe over your damp underwear, making you close your legs around his head. He was quick to separate them and nuzzle his nose against the cotton of it, inhaling your scent. You would be embarrassed if he hadn't done it like a hundred times before. It was nothing new.

"Joel.." You whined, almost pleaded as you gripped his hair. You kept eating the popsicle, licking and slurping at it to provoke him even more. And did he notice.

He looked up at you, eyes dark from his pupils occupying almost his whole irises. He took a finger and pushed at your entrance, penetrating you with your underwear.

"You take what I give you." He reminded you. Your mouth felt open at the sudden contact, aching to be filled. Some of the juice spilled down your chin and onto your chest, and he looked at it like it was the most attractive, sexy thing he'd ever seen. He pumped his fingers a couple of times before his patience broke.

"Damn it, darlin'. I swear I'm tryin' to take my time but today just won't be the case." He spoke, before pushing down his own clothes and your underwear flew God knows where.

He sat you on his lap, pressing you down against the evidence of the effect you had on him. Gently, never being rough, pushed your legs open with his knees and held you like that.

"Oh, look at 'er.. Already cryin' for me, baby?"

He teased, and brought two of his fingers at your slick. You squirmed on his lap, breathing ragged as you tried to find something to hold onto. But he didn't let you.

Instead, with those two fingers, he parted your lips open and looked down at your glistening cunt. It was gaping, closing around air as if it was already preparing itself for the stretch that Joel's length would be.

But.. he didn't do it. Not yet. He pulled the popsicle out of your mouth and pressed it against your hole. Your eyes widened and you gasped for air at the cold sensation, telling him that he couldn't do that, that it was wrong, that—

"Beggin' to be filled, isn't she?" He murmured, hot breath against your ear. He didn't really care about you trying to be cautious, he knew that deep down you didn't care about that either. You wanted to be filled, and he was a man that took your wishes seriously. He placed the popsicle in front of you so you could see it before he slowly trusted it inside of you. You cried out and he hushed you softly.

"Oh, I know, I know." He cooed at you. "She'll get used to it. Now take it."

And you trembled, fighting the internal battle of pulling his hand away or letting him fuck you senseless with a popsicle. The sticky, orange, freezing cold stick was melting inside of you. And every time Joel pulled it out and pushed it back down, some would drip out of your hole. Juices mixed with whatever blend of fruit you poured into those molds, all dripping down to the floor.

You could sense Joel's eyes locked on it, his breath becoming more labored than he would like to admit. He would beg to clean up that mess with his own tongue if it meant tasting your tangy, slightly sour slick.

"Takin' it so good, princess. Look at you. 's it feel good?" He asked, whispering against your ear. You couldn't see him but you knew that he looked pussy drunk, that grin on his face that told you he was high just from watching you take a popsicle or whatever he pushed inside of you.

You were a mess. Hair sticking to your forehead as the old ceiling fan wasn't strong enough to cool down any of you. Your own back felt sticky and hot against Joel's chest. But did he mind? No. He loved every liquid that would come out of you, even your sweat. He had eaten you out after being hours on patrol, sweat pooling in every fold of your body. But he just couldn't wait until you showered. That summed up how little Joel cared about any of that stuff.

Your head fell back against his shoulder and you shut your eyes closed as he stretched you further with the popsicle, the sounds were almost enough to make you want to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. They were almost pornographic, and you felt Joel's cock twitching underneath your ass.

"Joel—Please!" You cried out. "I want it. Please. I can—"

The popsicle was shoved into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue and making you gag softly as he went a little too deep. You could taste yourself in it, and it turned you on even more. Joel was tired of your cries, he would give you what he wanted when he wanted it.

"Hold it." He commanded and you held the popsicle, drool dripping out of it and into your chest, making an orange mess.

With his hands now free, he pushed your hips forward and up, lining the red, unattended tip of his dick against your entrance. You squirmed and cried, voice muffled by the long, cold stick.

"Shh, sh, sh. I got you, sweetheart."

I whispered and pulled you down against it with one swift move, having little to no mercy with your aching hole. He pushed on your lower back and you leaned forward as he started moving his hips deliberately, kissing your cervix every time he went up. He moaned at the sight of orange juice still pouring out of you, coating his cock along with your slick.

"What a sight, baby. I bet.."

He took the popsicle out of your mouth, and you panted for air. Your moans and soft cries filled the room as he filled you, stuffed you full to leave you limping for a week.

"..It'll look prettier like this." You almost didn't hear him, the pleasure overtaking you.. *almost*. But he made sure you did, at least, feel him when he pushed the popsicle into your rosebud, making the small hole stretch around it. He whimpered at the sight, something he never did. You gasped, holding onto the coffee table in front of you for dear life as you could swear you saw your soul leaving your body for good.

The squelching sounds, juices dripping everywhere making a mess around you two, was enough to make you near your orgasm. He pumped the thing in and out at the same rhythm as he raised his hips. You swore you'd never felt more full in your life, warm and cold at the same time in different places. He stared in awe, watching both of your holes swallow both him and the popsicle smoothly.

When Joel noticed that you were near, he picked up the pace of both: the popsicle that entered your anus with ease, melting and filling you to the brim, and his cock that you could swear you felt on your stomach.

"Thatta girl.. milk my cock, sweetheart. Yeah, good fucking girl."

He babbled nonsense, an indicator that he was close too. With not one, not two, but three thrusts he gripped your hips, biting down –gently– onto your shoulder as he painted your walls white with his seed. You could feel your legs twitching as his body trembled, your name coming out of his mouth in soft prayers. You followed quickly after him, closing your walls around his length in a way that almost got it hard again. You stayed there, bodies still intertwined and covered in fruit juices, panting for air until you both came back to reality.

He then scooped you up into his arms and carried you upstairs. He would clean up the mess later, he said as he guided you both into the shower. Once there, he made sure to clean up every dip and crevice of your body while you felt your eyelids drooping. He caressed your back gently and pressed soft kisses against your forehead and shoulders while rubbing you dry, making sure you were taken care of and never felt like any encounter was just to please him. Then, he carried you to bed and cuddled up against you, placing your head on his chest and running his fingers through your hair gently, like he always did to soothe you.

"We gotta make those more often. You know.. to survive the heat."

He murmured with a smirk as you drifted off to sleep. And all you could wonder was how the fuck did a man twenty years older than you have the stamina of a beast.

[elysiansparadise]

Venus as the composite chart ruler

This is possible only if you have Taurus or Libra rising in the composite chart. If Venus is one of the dominant or strongest planets in this chart it can resonate to some extent, that is, if Venus is strongly aspected, if there are many Taurus/Libra placements or 2nd house/7th house placements.

This is a couple of two people who long for a relationship where love and justice abound, one where they feel they can fully love their partner and feel equally loved, and this is something they see perfectly next to each other. They are romantic, constant people who put the relationship as one of their greatest priorities. They feel very drawn towards each other from the beginning, there is a very strong physical attraction and a deep desire to be with each other in every sense of the word. A fascination with each other's body and core and a fervent desire to worship every part of their partner. A strong desire to let your guard down and allow yourself to feel the love of your partner, the pleasure running through your body and that thrill of giving your hearts completely, without fear or hesitation.

This couple will be in charge of making romanticism something habitual, something that their partner does not have to beg or ask for, they will be filled with love and gestures that, although they range from small to wonderful, will always be given from the heart. The love in this relationship will flow easily and over time it will only grow more and more. There is a strong surrender, a desire to surrender to the other and drown in their love, in the heat of their body, in that intensity of their hearts and lose themselves in the other's gaze, the one that makes their hearts beat in unison.

They are not looking for a “you and me”, they are looking for an “us” where both have the same importance, the same voice and above all, that they have the same thing that they give. Unity is important to them and they will always make it a priority to be there, in good times and bad, by each other's side. No matter the issues or the differences they may have, that will not make the love, affection or respect less visible, on the contrary, the love they have for each other is bigger than their ego, bigger than the desire to have the reason or even greater than that which makes them different from the other. They do not feel the need to rush the other or try to mold them into what they want them to be, rather from the beginning they are fascinated with what the other is as an individual. They both care that the relationship is something that they both feel comfortable with, but above all, something that fits with the vision of a positive relationship from the perspectives of both.

This relationship can bring out the cheesiest side of the other, they will feel delighted with the mere idea of ​​seeing each other again, the simplest of the other's touches can make them slightly nervous, just like the first time. You may feel that your trust in love returns, you will feel that you can relate this word again with positive feelings and a lightness in your chest that invades you with peace and the certainty that you feel for the right person. Devotion will be seen from the beginning and it is no surprise that they see this person as someone who is worth the commitment, as someone they want to see by their side when they wake up and as the last thought before going to sleep.

💗Venus falling in the 1st house, this couple breathes love. They love how they are each other's everything, the way they transmit love through intertwined hands, small glances and those mischievous smiles that escape when their eyes meet. They love this magnetism that they feel towards each other, the one that prevents them from looking elsewhere, the one that seems to make their desire only grow and strengthen. Both of them love everything about the other person, the body and personality, light sides and those more tense. One of the things they most look forward to throughout the day is being able to spend time next to each other. They know they can be transparent with how they feel about each other, and this openness makes them feel safe, loved and reassured.

💗When Venus lays in the 2nd house, this couple loves that they both have details with each other that make them feel valued and truly loved. Both are filled with gifts and loving gestures. They love to feel the other close, they adore any kind of physical contact. They fall in love with each other like the other is capable of making them feel like they are the most precious thing in the universe, and they love how every minute together feels worth it. They deeply love that they have similar values ​​in love, in how they see the same importance in romanticism and that it is not lost with the passage of time. They love how their love is the perfect mix of stability, reliability and a romantic fantasy that they are. protagonists.

💗The couple who has Venus in the 3rd house connect in a pleasant and unique way intellectually, which they love more than anything. Inside jokes, easy and tender verbalization of your love for each other and feeling the beautiful freedom of speaking authentically with the other. They love that the other is constant with their love reminders, messages, details, compliments and pet names, and not only that, but they feel that it flows better than with other people. Their vision of love is more positive since the other entered their lives and they feel that they see it in a very similar way. They love talking to each other and never stop getting to know each other more and more. They love that the other makes an effort to find ways to love them better or to know how they like to be loved.

💗Finding Venus in the 4th house, this couple loves the way their hearts race when they meet each other, and how they relax once they find refuge in each other's arms. They love the naturalness with which love unfolds, the kindness that their special one shows to them, the affection with which they interact with the other and how good it feels to love the other. They feel enchanted by each other's emotional world and that uninhibited way in which they let them enter and contemplate from their rawest intensity to the vulnerability that lies within them. Genuine care that makes them feel that it is safe to love and throw themselves completely into this relationship. They love those gestures that the other makes without realizing it that reflect the immense love they have for each other and the importance they give to their needs.

💗With Venus in the 5th house, this couple will feel that spark of motivation and joy when the other is around. They love who their partner is both outside and inside the relationship, they feel an enormous fascination and attraction towards each other. They are each other's biggest fans and love that their partner motivates and encourages them on those days when self-esteem is not so high. They can see the pride behind their partner's words and looks. This couple feels they can be playful and as expressive as they want with each other, and they love being able to fully enjoy each side of their special one. They enjoy an interesting, thrilling but above all adoring and romantic love. They feel a strong compatibility in both the love and sexual fields.

💗With Venus in the 6th house, one of the things this couple loves most is how even the smallest details, even the most trivial activities, become special next to each other. They love the naturalness with which they can express their love to the other, how easy it is to love the other in a dedicated and loving way. This couple loves being able to have small moments together, share hobbies or routines and add each other to their daily lives. It warms their hearts to see all the details that their special person has with them and how they make romance something common and not exclusive to important dates. They love seeing how the other reads between the lines and remembers little things about them.

💗When observing Venus in the 7th house we find a couple that constantly works on the relationship, they share values ​​and their vision of love, which makes them feel really comfortable with it. There is a desire for both of you to get closer and closer, working on trust and giving as much love to the other as you receive. Strong unity and a strong identity as a couple, as they remain united in the face of adversity. They love the idea of ​​seeing the other as their forever partner, as a future husband/wife, and as the companion to look at after a long day at work. They adore that romance and affection that naturally flows between them. Each other's presence fills their hearts and makes them feel happy immediately.

💗The love of the couple with Venus in the 8th house is like nothing they have experienced, they adore the intensity with which the other feels for them, the fervent desire that they awaken in the other and that way in which both crave to feel the other. another at his side, body to body, soul to soul. They adore the different pleasures they are capable of causing in each other, that power they feel when they are together and that reliable companion they see in their partner. They love that the other is able to make them feel truly seen, genuinely heard and madly loved. They will completely change each other's perception of love and since they become a couple, they can attract many changes to their partner's life.

💗With Venus in the 9th house, this couple will love this new vision that the other will give them of love, a profound change to the meaning behind loving and being loved. They will love that the other is their companion in all kinds of adventures, their support to carry out any idea and they will feel fascinated by the fact that they will see in the other someone from whom they can learn a lot. They deeply value that the other is open to trying new things to better connect with them and that they seek to experience and enjoy life alongside each other. Both will show love both in a spontaneous and genuine way, as well as in a deep and meaningful way, and that duality in their relationship will bring them a lot of happiness.

💗The couple who has Venus in the 10th house, they both feel fascinated to see how they both constantly seek to improve the relationship, how precious and positive the future together looks. They love to see in their partner a person who will support them unconditionally, who will be their pillar when things get difficult. They will both be fascinated with the person they and their partner become throughout the relationship, they love to see themselves grow and they adore their partner both inside and outside of the relationship. There is a strong and genuine admiration between them, one that is mixed with the deepest and most constant love. They both love the way they make each other feel capable of having everything they want.

💗Love for the couple with Venus in the 11th house feels relieving, as they love the freedom with which they can express themselves and their love with their partner. There is a strong sense of companionship with each other, they want to do things well, support each other and be more than a couple who loves them, a friend who supports and accompanies them no matter what they go through. They love imagining a future together, one filled with love, affection, and laughter next to the other, one that does not fade with the passage of time. They love each other's idealistic side, their individuality and will even feel inspired by the other. They are fascinated by the small details that make each other them.

💗A couple with Venus in the 12th house love that they can experience a deep, healing, unconditional love like none they had before. They love that their partner does not want to appear to the public but shows the other through meaningful actions how great their love for the other is. They do not want to keep up appearances, rather love the other with every part of their being. They are delighted by the fact that their partner makes them feel loved, completely, without judgment, without harshness. Their love is understanding, tender and quite emotionally intense. They love that the other helps them see themselves in a better light, to focus on the good in themselves, and they adore the healing and comforting quality that their relationship has in their lives.

[lisasmuts]

TROPICAL WEEK OFF

Lisa manoban x Male reader.

6.9k words

( This is what everyone needs. A week off with Lisa in Maldives. )

( Haven't proof read, so if any mistakes let it go please :) or dm me with the mistakes i'll fix them later. 😊)

Lisa giggles playfully as you pull her close, your hands resting on her shapely ass. She leans in, her face mere inches from yours, and gazes up at you with those captivating eyes.

“You always smell so good, y/n.”

She nuzzles her nose against yours, her breath tickling your skin.

“But these roses…”

She brings the bouquet to her nose, inhaling deeply.

“They might just give you a run for your money.”

Lisa laughs melodiously, her body swaying gently in your embrace.

“I’m not sure I can decide which scent I love more.”

With a coy smile, she presses herself against you, her curves molding in your frame.

Lisa lets out a surprised gasp as you playfully slap her juicy ass behind, she scolds you playfully, but her scolding quickly melts into a soft giggle. She leans in, pressing her body against yours, and tenderly captures your lips in a deep, longing kiss. The warmth of her mouth and the gentle caress of her tongue convey just how much she’s missed you during the time apart. When the kiss finally breaks, she gazes up at you with eyes full of love and desire.

“I’ve missed you so much, y/n. Every moment we’ve been apart has felt like an eternity.”

Her voice is laced with a sultry tone as she runs her hands along the contours of your body.

“But now that you’re here, I don’t ever want to let you go.”

With a coy smile, she takes your hand and begins to lead you deeper into the recording studio, her hips swaying with each step.

As you step into the recording studio, Lisa’s face lights up with excitement. She quickly moves over to the sound console, her fingers dancing across the controls as she cues up her new track. The opening notes fill the air, and with a coy smile, Lisa begins to sing.

But as she performs, her lyrics take on a decidedly more sensual tone, the words dripping with seduction.

“Ooh, y/n, you make me feel so good…”

She sways her hips in time with the music, her gaze locked on yours. The normally professional Lisa has been replaced by a sultry siren, intent on captivating you with her voice and her body.

Stepping closer, she trails a finger down your chest, her touch igniting a spark of desire within you.

“I can’t get enough of your touch, your taste…”

She bites her lip, her eyes hooded with lust.

“I need you, y/n. Right here, right now.”

Without warning, Lisa turns and presses her back against your chest, grinding her hips against you in time with the music. Her hands reach back to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as she continues her sultry performance.

Lisa’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she hears your hesitation. She understands the need to maintain professionalism in the workplace.

“Of course, my love. We’ll have our fun later, when we’re alone.”

She winks playfully, her voice dripping with promise.

A few hours later, Lisa comes bouncing into your office, a bundle of energy and joy.

She practically leaps into your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. When she finally breaks away, her eyes are shinning.

“y/n! I have the best news!”

She bounces excitedly, her curves enticing.

“I just found out I’m getting a whole week off! An entire week, just for us!”

Lisa peppers your face with eager kisses, her happiness palpable.

“We can do anything, go anywhere… I can’t wait to be alone with you, my love.”

Lisa’s eyes sparkle with unbridled excitement as she showers your face with eager, sloppy kisses. Her body practically vibrated with joy at the prospect of your upcoming trip to the Maldives.

“Maldives, y/n! we are going to Maldives. An entire week, just the two of us in paradise.”

She giggles, her fingers tracing tantalizing patterns on your chest.

“We have to start packing as soon as we get home. I can’t wait to feel the warm sun on my skin, the sand between my toes.”

Lisa leans in, her lips brushing against yours.

“And to have you all to myself, with no distractions…”

Her voice drops to a sultry whisper as she grinds her hips against yours, making her desires crystal clear. With a playful wink, she hops off your lap, already mentally packing for your romantic getaway.

“Tonight, we’ll make sure we have everything ready. I can’t wait, y/n!”

As you arrive home after a lovely dinner, Lisa and you quickly get to work packing for your exciting trip to the Maldives. However, it seems Lisa’s desires have other plans. With a coy smile, she turns to me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“y/n, I’m getting so… hungry for you right now.”

She bites her lip, her hands already roaming over your body.

“Do you think you could help me pack while you… take care of that hunger?”

Without waiting for a response, Lisa presses her body against yours, her hips grinding teasingly. You can’t resist her sultry advances, and soon you find yourselves tangled together on the bed, clothes hastily discarded. As you thrust into her welcoming warmth, Lisa moans your name, pausing occasionally to ask what she should pack for your trip.

Her words are punctuated by gasps and whimpers of pleasure, spurring you on.

Your passionate coupling continues, the sound of skin slapping against the skin mingling with Lisa’s lewd cries. She packs diligently between bouts of ecstasy, her focus unwavering even as you bring her to the heights of pleasure. It’s a delightful dance of lust and practicality, a testament to Lisa’s insatiable appetite.

As you continue thrusting into Lisa’s welcoming heat, her body trembles with wave after wave of ecstasy. She moans your name breathlessly, her words punctuated by gasps and cries of pleasure. Despite her attempts to pack for your trip, Lisa’s focus is completely shattered by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her.

“y/n! oh god, yes! Don’t stop, please! Fuck me harder! Fuck yess!”

She arches her back, her nails digging into the bed as another powerful orgasm rips through her. Her inner walls clench rhythmically around your cock, milking you relentlessly.

You can’t help but chuckle at Lisa’s insatiable appetite. She’s completely lost in the throes of passion, her body trembling with one climax after another. Her moans and praises spur you on, driving you to push her ever higher. You’re determined to give your love every ounce of pleasure she craves.

Lisa’ s body shudders violently as another powerful orgasms rips through her. She cries out your name, her voice dripping with ecstasy.

By now, you’ve lost count of how many times she’s climaxed – her insatiable appetite knows no bounds. Finally, Lisa gather the strength to cup your cheeks, gazing up at you with pleading eyes.

“y/n, please… I need you to cum for me now,”

She begs breathlessly.

“I won’t be satisfied until I feel you filling me up. Please, I need it so badly….”

Her hips continue to grind against yours, desperate for that final release. Lisa’s sultry gaze and wanton pleas are impossible to resist.

With a low groan, you give in to her demands, your own orgasm crashing over you. You spill your seed deep inside her quivering core, eliciting a shuddering moan of pure bliss from your lover.

As the last waves of pleasures subside, Lisa collapses against you, her body trembling. She peppers your face with tender kisses, murmuring words of adoration. Truly, her insatiable appetite for you has been sated – for now.

As you gently withdraw from Lisa’s well-satisfied pussy, a wet, lewd pop echoes through the room. She lets out a shameless moan of pure bliss, her body still trembling from the intense pleasure. With a contented sigh, she gazes up at you with innocent, childlike eyes.

“I’m just satisfied for now, y/n. But I’m utterly exhausted…”

She pouts playfully, her tone turning coy.

“Can you please do the packing for our trip? I don’t think I have the energy left.”

You feign annoyance and let out a fake cry, earning a playful slap on the hand from Lisa. She giggles mischievously.

“Oi! I was the one who got used for the past hour and a half! I came countless times, you know. I’m really tired now.”

Lisa snuggles against you, her body still radiating warmth. With a contented sigh, she closes her eyes, ready to let you take care of the rest of preparations. Her insatiable appetite has been sated, at least for the moment.

As Lisa drifts off to sleep beside you, her hand gently holding yours, you can’t help but admire her beauty. Even in her slumbering state, she looks absolutely gorgeous. You pepper her face with soft, adoring kisses, taking in every inch of her flawless features.

A slight smile graces Lisa’s lips as she senses your affection, knowing she is completely safe and adored in your embrace. You watch over her with pure tenderness, marveling at how peaceful and content she appears. Your passionate activities have left her thoroughly satisfied, and now she can rest easy in your arms.

You feel a deep sense of protectiveness and love wash over you as you gaze upon your sleeping beauty. This moment of tranquility is a precious respite before you embark on your exciting trip to the Maldives. For now, you are content to simply bask in Lisa’s presence and the knowledge that she is yours, now and forever.

As the morning sun filter in through the windows, you stir awake to the most delightful sensation – Lisa’s warm, wet mouth engulfing your entire length. Her tongue swirls and dances around your shaft as she bobs her head up and down, eliciting a groan of pleasure from your lips.

“Aaah, good morning, lily…. Fuck, already sucking me off?”

You gaze down at her with hooded eyes, your fingers threading through her silky hair.

Lisa’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she continues her ministrations, her pace quickening. The lewd sounds of her mouth working your cock fill the air, only heightening your arousal. She seems insatiable, determined to bring me to the heights of ecstasy before you even begin your day.

As your climax approaches, you can’t hold back any longer. With a guttural growl, you announce that you’re about to cum. Lisa hungrily swirls her tongue around the sensitive head of your cock, keeping you buried deep in her warm, wet mouth. Her skilled tongue work quickly pushed you over the edge, and you erupt into her waiting mouth in powerful spurts.

Lisa’s face breaks into a delighted smile as she swallows every last drop, her throat working to milk every last bit of your release. When your twitching cock finally begins to soften, she pulls away, a satisfied grin on her face.

“Good morning, sleepy head!”

She says playfully, giggling.

“That was quite a lot of cum for a morning load. Looks like someone was really horny from last night’s fun, hmm?”

She winks coyly, clearly pleased with herself and the effect she had on you.

 Lisa giggles playfully as she hops off the bed, her energy and enthusiasm seemingly boundless. She gently pokes your side, urging you to get up.

“Alright, y/n, time to get freshened up! We don’t want to miss our flight, you know.”

She laughs melodiously, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“The plane won’t come to our doorstep, so we better get a move on!”

With a wink, Lisa begins gathering your luggage, making sure everything is packed and ready to go. Her excitement for your trip to the Maldives is palpable, and you can’t help but match her infectious energy. As you head to the bathroom to freshen up, you catch one last glimpse of Lisa’s radiant smile – a smile that promises endless adventures and unforgettable memories to come.

As you board the flight, the excitement and anticipation are palpable between you two. The moment you find your seats, the flirtatious teasing begins. you can't resist the temptation to slide your hand under Lisa's short skirt, gently caressing her warm, smooth skin. She responds in kind, her delicate fingers wrapping around the bulge in your pants, stroking you through the fabric.

Your voices drop to sultry whispers, filled with lust and desire. You trade filthy comments, each one more tantalizing than the last. Lisa's eyes sparkle with mischief as she describes in vivid detail the things she wants to do to you, her touch igniting a fire within you.

The confined space of the airplane cabin only heightens the intensity of your encounter. You steal furtive glances, daring each other to take things further. The anticipation builds, your bodies aching to be joined as one. Yet, you restrain yourselves, knowing that your true moment of passion awaits you at your tropical destination.

As soon as you step into your hotel room in the Maldives, the pent-up tension between you becomes almost palpable. Lisa can barely contain her desire, and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, she hungrily latches onto your hands, her eyes wild with lust.

“y/n, please… I need you to fuck me, right now!”

She begs, her voice dripping with desperation.

“I can’t wait any longer, I need your cock inside me so badly!”

Hearing her shameless pleas only serves to further arouse you. You insist that she beg more, to ask for it in the most filthy, debased manner possible. And Lisa obliges without hesitation, her words growing increasingly lewd and wanton.

“Please, y/n! I’m your dirty little slut, your whore! I need you to use me, to pound my pussy until I can’t walk straight! Fuck me senseless, make me scream your name!”

She grinds her hips against you, her fingers clawing at your clothes. The way, unbridled desire radiating from Lisa is intoxicating. You can feel your self-control slipping away as the flames of passion consume you both. There’s no more time for words – now is the time for action, for the fulfillment of your carnal desire.

With a growl of pure lust, you toss Lisa onto the soft bed, your body quickly following as you straddle her trembling form. Her clothes are no match for your desperate hands, as you tear them away, baring her supple flesh to your hungry gaze.

“Tell me, my little slut,”

You demand, your voice dripping with carnal desire.

“How badly do you want my cock? How much are you craving to be filled by me?”

Lisa's eyes blaze with unbridled need, her lips parting in a wanton moan.

“Oh, y/n, I want it so badly! I'm your filthy whore, your insatiable fuck toy. Please, use me, ravish me until I can't think of anything but your cock!”

Her shameless words only serve to further inflame your lust. You can see the hunger radiating from every inch of her body, her every fiber crying out to be claimed by you. And you have no intention of denying her.

With a feral growl, you tear apart Lisa's barely-there skirt, exposing her glistening, soaked pussy to your hungry gaze. you can't help but mock her, admiring the way her needy flesh clenches around nothing, begging to be touched and filled.

“Look at you, my little slut,”

You taunt, your fingers tracing the outline of her swollen, quivering folds.

“So wet, so desperate for my cock. Your pussy is practically dripping with how horny you are.”

Lisa doesn't even try to deny it, her eyes burning with shameless lust.

“Yes, y/n! I'm so fucking horny, I need you inside me. Please, stop teasing and fuck me already!”

Her wanton plea only serves to further stoke the flames of your desire. You can't resist the temptation to tease her more, to watch her squirm and beg for release. This is just the beginning of the delicious torment you have in store for my insatiable lover.

As you lower your shorts, revealing your throbbing, hard cock, Lisa's eyes instantly lock onto it with unbridled hunger. Her pussy begins to twitch and clench, aching to be filled. Gently, you bring your cock to hover just above her glistening entrance, the heat radiating from her needy flesh.

Lisa's control slips away completely, her body consumed by raw, desperate lust. Without any direct stimulation, she suddenly cries out, her inner walls clenching as a powerful climax rips through her. She convulses beneath you, reduced to a trembling, broken toy by the mere proximity of your cock.

You can't help but marvel at this incredible display, a giggle of delight escaping your lips.

“Oh, Lisa, look at you - cumming like an insatiable whore, and I've barely even touched you.”

You tease, savoring her utter loss of control.

Lisa cries out in ecstasy and pleasure as the powerful orgasm ripples through her body. Her breathing is heavy, but the desperation in her eyes only grows.

“Y/n, stop teasing me and just fuck me already!”

she yells, her voice dripping with need.

You can't help but chuckle at her shameless display.

“Oh, Lisa, I'll only fuck you if you can cum again without any touch or stimulation.”

To your amazement, just two minutes later, Lisa lets out another shameless cry as her body is wracked by another intense orgasm. Her pussy clenches and quivers, utterly consumed by her insatiable desire for you. As the aftershocks of her climax subside, Lisa gazes up at me hungrily.

“I've cum again, y/n. Now please, fuck me - I need your cock inside me!”

You’re thoroughly amused and aroused by her shameless display of wanton need. With a growl, you position yourself at her dripping entrance, ready to finally give in to her desperate pleas.

As you thrust into Lisa, her pussy stretches to accommodate your throbbing cock. She moans and screams your name, her inner walls clenching tightly around your invading length. Rocking her hips back and forth, she seeks more friction, chasing her pleasure.

With a shuddering cry, Lisa climaxes once more, her orgasm washing over her in powerful waves.

“y/n, having your cock inside me makes me cum so hard!”

she exclaims, her body still trembling.

Shifting into the intimate missionary position, you begin to thrust into her, your hips moving with a steady, relentless rhythm. Lisa's orgasm continues to ripple through her, heightening the sensations as you fill her again and again.

As your long, passionate session finally begins to wind down, you can feel your own climax approaching. Gazing into Lisa's eyes, you let her know that you’re about to cum.

“Lisa, I'm going to cum soon. Where would you like me to finish?”

You ask, giving her the choice of where to receive your release.

Lisa's eyes light up with excitement.

“Oh y/n, I want you to cover me in your cum!”

She exclaims breathlessly.

“Coat my body, my face, anywhere you want! I want to be dripping with your seed.”

Her shameless words only heighten your arousal. With a groan, you pull out and begin stroking your throbbing shaft, aiming it at Lisa's waiting form. Rope after rope of hot, thick cum spills forth, splattering across her flushed skin. Lisa moans in delight, relishing every drop that lands on her.

Once the last twitch of your orgasm subsides, you gaze down at your thoroughly marked lover, a satisfied smile on your face. Lisa looks utterly debauched, but radiates a sense of blissful contentment. You've both been thoroughly spent, but the connection between you has only grown stronger.

As you lay beside Lisa, you maintain a slight distance between you both, not wanting to get covered in your own release. Lisa quickly picks up on the space you've put between you two, and a playful smile spreads across her face.

“Why the distance, y/n?”

she teases, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Afraid of a little mess?”

You chuckle at her playful antics.

“Well, you are quite the sticky situation at the moment, my dear. I don't fancy getting covered in my own cum as well.”

Lisa laughs heartily, then makes a show of scooting closer, as if to pull you into a hug.

“Oh, come on, don't be like that!”

she giggles.

“If it bothers you so much, I'll just go have a nice, hot bath. Then your girlfriend will be all clean for you to cuddle.”

With a final laugh, she rolls off the bed and saunters towards the bathroom, leaving you to marvel at her endlessly playful spirit. You can't help but smile, knowing that once she's refreshed, You'll gladly pull her into your arms and revel in her affection.

After a while, Lisa emerges from the bathroom, her body wrapped in a towel and her hair gently drying with another. You lay there, utterly mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty. Your mouth hangs open in awe, unable to contain your reaction.

Lisa laughs at your gaping expression.

“What's the matter, y/n? Don't tell me you're still so surprised, even though I'm just wearing a towel!”

She pouts playfully, then saunters closer to the bed.

Leaning over you, Lisa grins mischievously. Suddenly, she shakes her head, splashing droplets of water from her hair all over your face. Her melodious laughter fills the air as she playfully teases you.

“Come on, don't just lie there!”

she giggles.

“Aren't you going to join me for some more fun?”

You can't resist the temptation to tug at Lisa's towel, unwrapping her beautiful form. She giggles, placing a hand on her waist.

“What kind of fun did you have in mind, dear Mr. Insatiable?”

she teases.

“Another round of our insatiable lovemaking? Or something else?”

Lisa laughs heartily, then gently climbs onto the bed, coming to rest on top of you. She cups your cheeks, caressing them tenderly.

“Now, now, let's take a break from our earlier activities,”

she says softly.

“I'm feeling a bit famished. How about we go have a nice dinner first? And then, under the starry night sky, we can indulge in some peaceful stargazing together.”

Her eyes sparkle with affection, and you can't help but be captivated by her gentle, caring nature. Nodding in agreement, you pull her close, savoring the warmth of her embrace as you plan your next adventure.

As you sit together under the beautiful night sky, Lisa nestled comfortably on your lap, you can't help but admire her radiant beauty. The soft moonlight casts a gentle glow on her features, accentuating her captivating allure.

“Lisa, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight,”

You murmur, your fingers gently tracing the delicate curves of her face.

“I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side.”

She giggles softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Y/n, you certainly know how to make a girl feel special.”

Leaning in closer, she places a feather-light kiss on your lips, her touch igniting a familiar warmth within you.

As you gaze up at the stars, Lisa's fingers intertwine with yours, your hands fitting together perfectly. The peaceful tranquility of the moment is punctuated by the occasional playful tease or flirtatious remark, your bond growing ever stronger under the moonlit sky.

As you slowly stir awake, you’re greeted by the sensual sight of Lisa's mouth wrapped around your throbbing morning wood. Her tongue swirls and dances along your shaft, coaxing you into full arousal. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she bobs her head up and down, teasing and pleasuring you.

“Good morning, y/n,”

she purrs between licks.

“I just couldn't wait to have a taste of you.”

Her shameless words only serve to heighten your desire. You groan in pleasure as she continues her lewd ministrations, her hunger for your cock palpable in every movement. This insatiable, wanton side of Lisa is a stark contrast to the innocent, playful girl from last night - but it's a side you’re more than happy to indulge.

Tangling your fingers in her hair, you guide her pace, urging her to take you deeper. Lisa moans around your cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. You can feel your release building, and from the way she's devouring you, You know she's eager to taste every last drop.

Lisa pouts and folds her arms, feigning annoyance.

“Y/n, why haven't you cum yet? I've been sucking you off for the past 10-15 minutes! This is your morning wood, you should be exploding by now!”

she scolds playfully.

You can't help but chuckle at her adorable display of faux irritation. Gently, You pinch her cheeks, teasing her with love.

“Aww, my insatiable little Lisa. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have me finishing soon enough with that talented mouth of yours.”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans in, her lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You better believe it, y/n. I'm not stopping until I've milked every last drop from you.”

With a sultry wink, she resumes her sensual ministrations, determined to coax your release from you. You groan in pleasure, surrendering yourself to the skilled attentions of your ravenous lover.

Lisa again removes your cock from her mouth, eliciting a sad growl from you at the loss of her warm, wet embrace. She laughs softly, then adopts a stern, mentoring tone.

“Bad boy, y/n. You better cum for me now, or else...”

she warns, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrays her true feelings.

You immediately respond, eager to please her.

“Yes, yes ma'am! I'll come, just please keep my cock in your mouth!”

Lisa can't hold back her genuine smile at your compliance. Leaning in, she begins bobbing her head up and down on your shaft once more, her movements sloppy and seductive. The sensations are overwhelming, and you know your release is imminent.

As your hips tighten with the impending release, Lisa recognizes the signs and works her tongue furiously on your cock's sensitive tip. With a groan, you erupt into her waiting mouth, filling it with your hot, sticky seed. Once you've spent yourself, Lisa pulls back, opening her mouth to reveal the impressive amount of cum you've deposited.

With a seductive gulp, she swallows it all down, a bright smile spreading across her face.

“Yay, my bad boy y/n has finally cum!”

she exclaims happily, licking the remnants from her lips.

“Your cock told me how happy it was to be inside my mouth,”

she adds with a playful wink.

You're left thoroughly satisfied, both by the intense release and Lisa's enthusiastic response. She truly is an insatiable, yet caring lover - one You're more than happy to indulge.

As Lisa tries to make her way somewhere, You can't resist the urge to playfully spank her pert ass. With a mischievous grin, You suggest that you take a steamy hot shower together.

Lisa's cheeks flush with a shy, innocent demeanor.

“O-Okay, y/n,”

she agrees softly, her previous wanton hunger momentarily subdued.

You can't help but laugh at the contrast between her current shyness and the ravenous way she was just devouring your cock.

“What's the matter, Lisa? You were gulping down my cum so hungrily just a minute ago,”

You tease, enjoying the way her composure wavers.

Gently taking her hand, You lead her towards the bathroom, eager to indulge in some more intimate exploration under the warm, cleansing spray of the shower.

As you make your way to the seaside, Lisa's figure is accentuated by a stunning white bikini with vibrant orange accents. Her juicy backside bounces with each step, drawing your gaze irresistibly. Despite the alluring nature of her swimwear, Lisa's natural beauty shines through, radiating an aura of effortless grace.

(PHOTO)

Reaching the water's edge, Lisa playfully jumps into the sea, splashing water all over herself. With a bright smile, she beckons you to join her.

“Come on, y/n! The water feels amazing. Let's have some fun together!”

she calls out, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Without hesitation, you dive in after her, the cool waves enveloping you both. As you both splash and swim, Lisa's infectious joy and energy fill the air, making this a truly magical moment between us.

Lisa told you that she wants to click some pics.

As you grab the camera, Lisa climbs up a couple of steps on the wooden stairs situated near the water, positioning herself to strike a sultry pose. She perks up her pert backside, the thin fabric of her bikini bottoms deliciously accentuating the curve of her ass.

With a heart-melting smile, she looks directly at the camera, radiating an aura of playful sensuality.

“Ooo, someone's being a bit of a slutty girlfriend, huh?”

You tease, unable to resist the temptation to poke fun at her shameless display.

Lisa's laughter rings out, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What can I say, y/n? You bring out the best in me.”

She winks coyly, then strikes another alluring pose, clearly reveling in the attention.

Your playful banter continues as you capture a series of tantalizing shots, each one more provocative than the last. It's clear that Lisa is thoroughly enjoying this little photoshoot, her uninhibited confidence and sensuality on full display. You can't help but marvel at how effortlessly she transitions between her innocent and sultry personas, keeping you thoroughly captivated.

After taking a few photos and selfies, you head towards the bed situated over the water. Lisa lays down, her hand coyly covering her cleavage as she asks you to take some pictures of her in this pose.

“Go on, y/n, capture me like this,”

she says with a playful smile.

You happily oblige, snapping a series of alluring shots that showcase Lisa's natural beauty and burgeoning sensuality.

Once You've gotten the photos you want, you join her on the bed, eagerly showing her the results.

“Look at how stunning you are,”

You murmur, your fingers tracing the curves of her body as You tease her.

“My beautiful, sultry Lisa - you truly are a sight to behold.”

Lisa giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel special, y/n. Maybe next time you can join me in the frame, hmm?”

Your playful banter continues as you revel in each other's company, the warmth of the sun and the gentle lapping of the waves creating a truly idyllic setting for your intimate moment.

Lisa's soft lips press against yours, igniting a familiar warmth within you. Her hand trails down, slipping beneath your shorts to gently stroke your semi-erect cock. Breaking the kiss, she looks at you teasingly.

“Hmm, how come you're still not fully hard, y/n?”

she purrs.

“Even after seeing your girlfriend posing so provocatively for you in this bikini?”

You chuckle, your hips instinctively bucking into her touch.

“My cock was just waiting for your skilled touch to grow full and hard, my love.”

As the words leave your lips, you can feel your shaft swelling to its full, rigid length within the confines of Lisa's delicate fingers. She hums in approval, her grip tightening ever so slightly as she begins to stroke you with purpose.

Lisa bites her lower lip coyly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well, y/n, what do you think? Does this bikini suit me? Do I look good?”

she asks teasingly.

You can't help but admire her captivating form, your voice laced with desire.

“You look absolutely stunning and sexy, Lisa. Breathtaking, in fact.”

At your words, her smirk widens.

“Hmm, you know, I might look even hotter and sexier without this bikini...”

She giggles mischievously, and before you can react, You’re already untying the knots of her bra and panty, eager to unveil her nude form.

Lisa laughs, delighted by your eagerness.

“I love it when you show this kind of enthusiasm, y/n,”

she murmurs, her hands caressing your face as she pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

Lisa's eyes gleam with unbridled hunger as she hurriedly removes your shorts, exposing your throbbing cock. Without hesitation, she engulfs it within her warm, wet mouth, her tongue swirling and dancing along the sensitive flesh. She begins to bob her head up and down, working you with a sloppy, seductive rhythm.

“Oh, Lisa,”

You moan, your fingers tangling in her hair.

“Your mouth feels incredible. Don't stop, my love - I'm so close.”

Encouraged by your words of praise, Lisa redoubles her efforts, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks you with fervent devotion. The sensations are overwhelming, and you can feel your release building rapidly.

“That's it, Lisa. Just like that - I'm going to burst in your mouth any second now,”

You groan, your hips bucking slightly as you fight the urge to thrust deeper into her welcoming throat.

With a pop, Lisa removes your cock from her mouth, then begins rubbing it all over her face. She traces your leaking tip across her eyes, lips, and cheeks, coating her features in a glistening layer of your pre-cum. The sight is utterly debauched, yet captivating.

“Y/n,”

she purrs seductively,

“Please, fuck my throat however you want. I need you inside me, filling me up.”

Her wanton words and the visual of her marked face ignite a primal desire within you. Gripping the back of her head, you guide your throbbing shaft back into her waiting mouth, intent on claiming her completely.

You start thrusting your cock into Lisa's throat with renewed hunger and lust, fucking her senselessly. She moans and hums around your shaft, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. Her tongue works tirelessly to please you further, as her free hand strokes the portion of your cock that doesn't fit in her mouth.

“That's it, Lisa,”

You growl, praising her between ragged breaths.

“You're such a wanton slut, taking my cock so well.”

Though You've challenged her to beg for your cum while her mouth is full, You don't remove yourself from her warm, wet embrace. You want to see how she'll manage to plead for your release in her current predicament.

Lisa's eyes shine with a desperate, pleading look, silently begging for your release. The sight of her so beautifully mesmerized is utterly captivating.

“Oh, Lisa, you want my cum that badly, my love?”

You growl, your grip tightening on the back of her head.

“Then here, you can have it.”

With that, you begin to unleash a torrent of your hot, sticky seed into her waiting mouth. Lisa hungrily gulps it down, her Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow as she drains you completely. The look of pure bliss on her face is intoxicating, and you can't help but revel in her wanton desire for your essence.

Lisa instantly removes your cock from her mouth, then swiftly positions herself on all fours in a tantalizing doggy-style pose. Glancing over her shoulder, she fixes you with a desperate, needy gaze.

“Y/n, please! My pussy is aching so badly - you have to fuck me now,”

she pleads, her voice dripping with wanton desire.

Unable to resist her sultry demands, You tease the tip of your cock against her glistening folds, eliciting a frustrated growl from Lisa.

“Ugh, stop teasing and just fuck me already!”

she scolds playfully, her hips bucking back in a silent plea for you to fill her.

With a primal growl, You oblige, driving your throbbing shaft deep into her waiting, welcoming pussy. Lisa cries out in ecstasy, her walls clenching around you as You begin to pound her relentlessly.

You moan Lisa's name, praising her tight, clenching pussy as you start to pick up the pace, driving into her with increasing fervor.

“Ohh, Lisa, your pussy feels incredible,”

You groan, your fingers digging into her hips.

Lisa cries out your name, her hands clenching the bed as she clenches her walls rhythmically around your thrusting shaft. Turning her head to look back at you, she asks in a sultry tone,

“Do you like how my pussy is gripping your cock, y/n?”

The sight of her flushed, ecstatic expression coupled with the sensations enveloping your cock are utterly intoxicating. You can only nod breathlessly in response, too lost in the euphoric sensations to form a coherent reply.

As you groan and moan in pleasure, Lisa laughs heartedly, cherishing how you’re loving to just fuck her so carelessly. Her infectious laughter fills the air, her joy and satisfaction palpable.

“That's it, y/n, let go and just take me,”

she cries out, her walls clenching rhythmically around your thrusting shaft.

“I love feeling you lose control inside me. It makes me so happy!”

Lisa's words and the sensations enveloping your cock drive you to new heights of ecstasy. You pick up the pace, pounding into her relentlessly as she revels in my uninhibited passion. Your bodies move together in a primal dance, the sound of your mingled cries echoing across the waves.

Lisa's laughter rings out across the waves, her girlish giggles interspersed with breathy moans as you continue to thrust into her welcoming pussy. Suddenly, she begins speaking in a playful, childlike tone.

“Ooh, y/n's big cock is having so much fun inside me!”

she exclaims, as if the appendage itself were speaking.

“It loves being squeezed by Lisa's tight little pussy. Can we play more?”

She pauses, then responds in a different voice, as if the cock itself is answering.

“Of course, my darling Lisa! I never want to leave your warm, wet home. Let's play all day and night!”

The back-and-forth continues, Lisa animating the conversation with infectious enthusiasm. Her innocent demeanor juxtaposed with the lewd subject matter creates a delightfully surreal atmosphere.

You can't help but be captivated by her playful antics, your hips continuing to move in sync with her rhythmic clenching.

Seeing that you’re thoroughly enjoying her playful antics, Lisa's eyes light up with mischievous glee. She continues the conversation with your cock with even more enthusiasm and energy.

“Ooh, you like that, don't you y/n?”

she coos, addressing your throbbing shaft directly.

“My little cock friend is having the best time inside me. Isn't that right?”

She pauses, then responds in a deeper, more masculine tone.

“You bet I am, Lisa! This pussy feels amazing. I never want to leave - I could stay here forever!”

Lisa giggles delightedly, her hips rocking back to meet your thrusts.

“Well then, let's make sure you never have to! I'll keep you nice and cozy in my warm, wet home.”

The back-and-forth continues.

“So, my little cock friend, would you like to cum?”

She pauses, then responds in a deeper, more masculine tone.

“Mmm, yes please Lisa! I'm aching to let it all out.”

Lisa tightens her pussy around you, eliciting a groan of pleasure.

“Ooh, is this tight enough for you, Mr. Cock?”

She replies in the same deep voice.

“Mmm, yes, that's amazing Lisa. But I think I need even more tightness to really let go.”

With a determined expression, Lisa clenches her inner muscles even further, her walls gripping you in a vice-like embrace.

“How's this, you naughty cock? Is this tight enough for you now?”

She exclaims in mock surprise.

“What? You need more? Okay, my dear friend, as you wish!”

Lisa's pussy pulses and contracts rhythmically, milking your throbbing shaft with incredible intensity.

The sensations are overwhelming, and you can feel your release building rapidly.

As you feel your climax rapidly approaching, you let out a guttural growl.

“Lily, I'm about to cum!”

Still in her playful mood, Lisa exclaims,

“Oo oo oo, my friend, my best friend wants to release! Wants to release!”

She then addresses my cock directly.

“My dear best friend cock, you can release it inside your favorite spot - my womb! Without any hesitation, trust me. Do it once, and I bet you'll love it.”

Her words, combined with the incredible sensations enveloping your shaft, push you over the edge. With a series of deep, shuddering thrusts, you begin to spill your hot seed deep inside Lisa's welcoming, tightening pussy. The feeling is absolutely euphoric, and you can't help but marvel at how perfectly her body seems to fit yours.

Lisa continues her playful dialogue, addressing your still-twitching cock.

“So, did you enjoy cumming inside me, my dear friend?”

She pauses, then responds in a deeper, more masculine tone.

“Mmm, yes Lisa, that felt absolutely incredible. I never want to leave this warm, wet paradise.”

Sensing the continued twitching of your shaft, Lisa adds enthusiastically,

“Ooh, look at you, still so eager for more! Don't worry, my precious cock, I'll keep you nestled inside me for hours on end.”

She giggles, then resumes the deeper voice.

“Yesss, that's exactly what I want, Lisa. I'm home at last.”

Lisa's unwavering enthusiasm and the rhythmic clenching of her inner walls send waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can't help but marvel at her creativity and playfulness, even in the throes of your intimate encounter.

As Lisa rocks her hips on your softening cock, you can feel it stirring back to life under her ministrations. Her movements are purposeful, her gaze filled with wanton desire.

“That's it, y/n,”

she purrs, her inner walls clenching rhythmically.

“Get hard for me again. I need you to fill me up once more.”

With her encouragement, your cock rapidly regains its full, throbbing hardness. Gripping her hips, You begin to thrust into her with senseless hunger, eliciting a symphony of moans and laughter from Lisa.

“Yes, yes! Fuck me, y/n,”

she cries out, her body undulating in ecstasy as you pound into her relentlessly.

“I love the way you fill me up again and again!”

The sound of your bodies colliding and Lisa's unbridled cries of pleasure echo across the waves, a testament to your shared, insatiable desire..

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

‘Smoke’wants you back, and he’ll do whatever it takes.

(Part one maybe?)

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine

You better stop the things you do

I tell you, I ain't lying

I ain't lying…

Word got around that Smoke was back in town. You couldn’t miss him with his snazzy suit’s silhouette characterized by broad shoulders, a high waist, and wide-leg trousers. A quintessential element in a man’s wardrobe. The whispers traveled to many ears, but it was only one pair he was concerned with.

Rosetta Scott.

A dilly he’s obsessed with. His soft-spoken jazz singer. She ended their relationship when Smoke decided to up and leave New Orleans with his ill-tempered identical twin brother, but he promised he’d be back and to write him. After two years, he’s back and ready to stake his claim on his woman.

Smoke hopped out of his Cadillac 16 cylinder wearing round, small sunglasses with wired frames. He removed his 8-panel hat and shut the door behind him. Smoke took a long drag of his blunt while staring straight ahead with a lopsided grin.

The reflection within the circular lenses of his dark frames was one he’d missed for years. A living tapestry of culture, history, and an unmistakable passion for life. This place, with its rhythmic streetcars and the spicy aromas from its kitchens, isn't just alive; it breathes stories at every corner.

Stretching his long legs with a purposeful gait, his expensive gaiters picking up dirt, Smoke pushed open the withering, wooden, hinge doors leading into a lively establishment. The smell of fish fry, sweat, cheap cologne, weed, and sex titillating his nose caused a wide grin to spread across his thick lips. He slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing piercing, brandy-eyes and a primal desire.

There she was. Doing what she loved. He was joyful. Proud.

laidback with rhythmic flexibility.

That husky breathy tone.

Her vocals always had a very raw unedited feel which made her songs feel more real and personal. She also tends to use harmonies and layering which sometimes gives the song a drowning all consuming affect.

The silk of her flowing silver slip seemed to mold into her hourglass frame. The premium fur shawl she wore hung loosely from her glistening shoulders. Her lips the color of ox blood stained the mic in front of her. The swing and blues notes with complex chords blending with her sultry voice had everyone on that floor dirty dancing.

Smoke broke his eyes away reluctantly, taking off his suit jacket, placing it on the back of a chair. He ashed out his blunt and placed it in the front pocket of his crisp, white button down. Smoke made his way towards the bar, unbuttoning his sleeves and his shirt along the way.

“Yes, daddy! Play that saxophone!”

“Sing it Rose!”

“Let’s Jive!”

“Ooooweee! If it ain’t Mr. Smoke Stack himself! Come over here!”

Smoke chuckled deeply before dabbing up his uncle and the owner of the establishment; Buck. His liquor breath and gold teeth were two things you remembered about Big Buck. Or, how he’d like to call it ‘I’m Big Buck and I like to fuck’. And boy did he get his share of pussy. He had eight kids to prove it.

“Look at my nephew! Now hold on…where is your twin?” Buck’s yellowing eyes wandered around in search of him.

“He’s handlin’ business. No time to settle. You know how he get. I had to break away tho’ I got business to ‘tend to.”

Smoke accepted a glass of whiskey and took a long sip. It burned so good down his throat.

“Yeah, uh-huh. We know why’s you here! That gal. You know she’s seeing someone else, right?”

The corner of his upper lip fluttered with disdain at the thought of another man touching his bitch. Smoke wasn’t having it. One look into his eyes, she’d fall into his lap again. Wet puss and all. She wrote him often. Sent him pictures. He’d gotten them all. So, was she doing all that while messing with some squat-ass fool?

“Gimme the low down, Buck.” Smoke insisted impatiently.

“Aight, nephew. Another?”

Smoke raised his glass, “hold the hail. I don’t need no watered down shit. I’m tryna get swacked.”

Buck’s gut laugh filled the cramped space between them.

“You remember Phonzo?”

“Shid, not pussy ass Phonzo? C’mon now gal…”

“Damn straight. He wines and dines her. Buys her shit…”

“She using.” Smoke replied.

He turned his eyes on her again. She looked so damn fine. Mmm. That body was nice. He could smell her perfume on his mustache. That amber scented flesh. Smoke knocked the rest of his drink back and stood from his seat at the bar. She ended another song and received a standing ovation. Smoke pushed his way towards the front but before he could get there, a man reached out to help her down. Her joyous laugh made Smoke’s stomach churn.

“Put me down, baby! I had too much to drink!”

“it’s Smoke Stack!”

All eyes fell towards the handsome gangster. Smoke ignored all except those pretty, doe eyes that locked on him with utter shock. Short and stacked. The finest woman in all of Louisiana. Ain’t no way she’s giving all that to Phonzo. Smoke pressed forward, his penetrating eyes racking over Rosetta’s frame. It was easy to tell the twins apart because one had a noticeable scar on his face and the other didn’t.

“Well I’ll be,” Phonzo secured his arm around Rosetta’s waist tighter, “Smoke. What’s shaking, man?”

Smoke’s lips remained tightly sealed and his eyes never left his Rosey. Tension was thick in the air like the sound of the powerful double bass.

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

You got have your beer in your bottle

Give me my cool kind hands…

“Rosey…”

Rosetta parted her deep-red lips to speak.

“Smoke…”

That voice. He’d missed it.

Smoke Stack was seeing red.

“Get yo’ hands off my woman, Phonzo.”

“You think you can just show up? This ain’t your woman anymore, Smoke. You proved that when you left her for the taking. Go on somewhere now…”

Phonzo attempted to walk away with Rosetta in his grasp, but Smoke swiftly grabbed her hand, swinging her over towards him with an expert twirl of her beautiful frame. She collided with his sturdy chest, her eyes staring up at him.

Rosetta was still trying to pick her jaw up from the floor. She couldn’t believe Smoke was back. The familiar warmth of his much larger and more powerful frame sent images swirling through her mind of the times they’ve shared. She hadn’t received a letter from him in almost a year. Every single day she worried herself about him. However, Rosetta had entertained the thought of being with Phonzo. Tonight would have been the night that she would have given Phonzo a taste of what Smoke Stack dicked down. It was an act of desperation.

“Rose! Whatchu doin’ gal? Don’t let this fool back into your life!” Phonzo reached his hand out for her to take, “I won’t leave you like he did. Remember? I promised that trip to Chicago. We can pack up and catch a train!”

“I’ll take her to Chicago, to Trinidad, Paris, wherever my money goes, she goes. You had your fun tryna get what’s mine. I suggest you fade, Phonzo…”

Um, make me another two bit pint

Um, make me another two bit pint

'Cause I've got my habits down

I'm gonna wreck this joint…

“Let’s go,” Smoke had a strong grip on Rosetta’s hand as he placed her in front of him to walk away.

Rosetta finally gathered her thoughts. She halted her footsteps inches away from the bar.

“Hold on, Smoke,” She pointed a red nail at him sternly, “How dare you show up here like this?! I haven’t heard from you in over a year! You can’t just walk up in here and whisk me away like some night in shining armor! Who do you think you are?!”

“Says which? I’ve written you!” Smoke shouted back.

“I ain’t get one letter in a year!”

Smoke kisses his teeth, “That’s some bullshit and you know it. Maybe the letters got mixed up…none of that matters now, baby. I’m back. For good now…”

Buck and another bartender watched the two of them go back and forth with amusement.

“We’ll see how long that lasts!” Rosetta sassed.

A gun clicking had Smoke on high alert. He pushed Rosetta behind him and turned, staring down into the barrel of a pistol. Phonzo was sweating bullets. He had two of his lackeys behind him, posted up like they were ready to do damage. Rosetta clung onto the sticky bar top, peeking around to see what the ruckus was about.

“Time to knock you off that high horse. You and that brother of yours don’t run shit ‘round here no more. Give me back my bitch, and we can get back to jivin’.”

“Excuse me?!” Rosetta argued, “I got your bitch—”

“Rosey, relax, baby. Daddy got this.” Smoke looked from the pistol pointed at his chest, to Phonzo with a sinister smile, “You off the cob or something, Phonzo?”

“You tryna make me look pussy in front of my boys?!”

Smoke tilted his head to size up his ‘boys’.

“They shakin’ in they boots just like you. C‘mon now, Phonzo. We can do this the easy way…you put that steel down, and walk away. I came for my woman and that’s it. Pick yo’ self up and use those bony-ass pegs and leave.”

Laugher erupted around them. Patrons watched on like it was a live performance. Phonzo always hated being the laughingstock. No one took him seriously. People tolerated him because Smoke and his twin skipped town to handle business.

“I ain’t going nowhere!” Phonzo yelled.

He pressed his gun into Smoke’s chest hard.

“Nigga, you ain’t got shit—”

Smoke picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and cracked it over Phonzo’s head. When Phonzo dropped to his knees with shards of glass embedded in his face, Smoke snatched his pistol up and pointed it at the two men that were once standing proud. They both shared a look with each other before bending over to pick Phonzo up.

Smoke placed the pistol in the waistband of his slacks and snatched a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean up the blood that seeped from a gash in the palm of his hand. People were used to violence ‘round here. Too drunk, high, and horny to care about Phonzo bleeding out onto the floor. Buck didn’t blink an eye as he shined a new glass before pouring a gentleman a glass of top shelf whiskey.

“Get ‘em out. Don’t come back, nigga. I’ll use your pistol to put a bullet in yo’ head fuckin’ wit’ me!”

Phonzo—delirious and bloody—was dragged out of the juke joint by his two loyal men. Smoke knew that as soon as Phonzo regained consciousness, he’ll be on the hunt for him. Smoke was ready.

Smoke took a seat at the bar and pulled Rosetta into him. Blunt between his lips, glass of whiskey in front of him, Rosetta gave him a light, watching her daddy with lust.

You know I can't stand it

You're running around

You know better, baby

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down

Oh, no…

“Smoke, Daddy…”

Rosetta took the blunt from between his lips and hit it. He watched her with low, hazy eyes. All he did was walk through those doors. She was at his mercy like he’d never left.

“You’ll really take me to Paris?”

Smoke accepted his blunt, “I’ll take you all over the world, baby…listen, I know I got some makin’ up to do, but don’t you ever do no shit like that again, hear me? I’m a always come back to you…”

“You right about that makin’ up,” Rosetta giggled, “We got all night though. Phonzo was my ride home…”

“Here, go grab my jacket and we can go.”

Smoke tapped Rosetta on her rump and pointed to where he placed his suit jacket. He paid his tab and promised to be back to catch up with his uncle. Rosetta returned and Smoke grabbed her by the hand, ushering her out of the juke joint and into the murky night.

_______________

Smooth leather seats, a pistol on the dash, windows rolled down.

Rosetta and her fur shawl sat elegantly next to a hunk of a gangster. She admired the stain of her lipstick on his cheek when she stole a quick kiss while he opened her door for her.

She missed her Smoke Daddy so damn bad. It hurt to the bone. Smoke could feel her pretty eyes on him and he glanced over to her, giving her a dimpled smirk filled with mischief. They were halfway there to her apartment above a boutique.

“I missed you, Rosey. So much.”

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine…

“Where did you go?”

Smoke took a moment to respond.

“…My brother had business in Texas. Then we picked up some jobs throughout the south. Made enough money to last us a lifetime…Made some bad choices, but I’m richer. Stronger. Ready to sweep you off yo’ feet. I want you to travel the world and sing to audiences bigger than that hole in the wall. Serious, gal.”

Rosetta blinked away tears.

“Don’t do none of that, baby. No crying…”

“I’m just glad ya ain’t dead somewhere in a ditch!”

Rosetta accepted a clean handkerchief from Smoke. She dabbed her eyes to avoid messing up her makeup.

“I made a promise to get back to you and I meant that.”

Rosetta exhales, “I know, daddy…I just…I’ve been so touch starved. I would’ve given Phonzo all of me if you hadn’t shown up…”

Smoke’s nostrils flared and he looked at her with those dark eyes that made her clench her thighs.

“Phonzo don’t know what to do wit’ all that. And you belong to me. All of you. You make that pussy cum while Daddy was away?”

“Yes…but it wasn’t enough. I miss the fuckin’ we used to do…”

Smoke’s Cadillac slowed to a stop in front of the boutique Rosetta’s mother owned. She worked there for extra money, but now that Smoke was back, she didn’t have to work. Smoke opened her door and helped her out. Shutting it, they walked towards the shop and Rosetta opened the door with a single gold key. Smoke observed his surroundings with a sharp eye before following her inside. It was dark, but the moonlight ignited a path for them leading towards a narrow staircase leading up to Rosetta’s apartment that she shared with her mother.

She had some privacy for now since her mother went away to visit family in Baton Rouge for a week. The boutique was closed until she returned. Rosetta opened the door and flicked on a light. It was exactly how Smoke had remembered it. Small and cozy and blessed by a woman that practiced root work. Rosetta walked into their small kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a pitcher of water. She poured a glass for Smoke and herself.

“You can stay for a few days until momma comes back. It don’t matter how grown I am, she don’t like men over…”

“I get it. I’ll have a place to stay. Then you can leave here and be wit’ me.”

“Smoke…”

Smoke finished his glass, sat it on the counter, and pulled Rosetta close. His hands caressed her back and dragged down to cuff her cheeks. Eyes locked on her face, he brought his plump lips to her own, pecking them with soft kisses. Rosetta whimpered and shifted, slightly raising one foot. Smoke hooked his strong arm around her trim waistline. His other hand squeezed the flesh of her plump ass.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you, Rose? Couldn’t wait for daddy to come back?”Smoke asked with his lips barely touching hers, “That’s alright, though…Im gon’ remind you just who you belong to...”

Suddenly, Smoke delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Rosetta gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

“Smoke, I’m sorry…I didn’t fuck him…I swear.” Rose pleaded.

“But you gave ‘em hope. If I hadn’t shown up…”

His wide hand lifted her silk dress over her ass and he went to town whacking each cheek—left, right, left—the pain increasing. Rosetta buried her face into his chest, her lipstick staining his shirt. Smoke palmed her cheeks hard, savoring the heft of that juicy flesh in his rough hands.

“Damn,” Smoke stared over her shoulder and down at her rump, “this big ass…mmm…mmm…mmm…I wanna look at that pussy, baby…I still have that picture of your pussy in my wallet…”

Rosetta set up a camera and took photos of herself nude before sending them off to whatever address Smoke told her to send it to. He’d beat his fat dick every night to all her photos. He stole a pair of her panties as a reminder of her scent. Anything to keep his sanity.

“You do?” Rosetta stared up at Smoke.

“Yeah,” Smoke retrieved his wallet from his pocket. He presented the photo to Rosetta. It had cracks in it from being folded, but her hairy mound, phat clit, and glistening folds stood out against the black and white, “She still nice and bushy?”

Smoke had a thing for hair. He hated whenever Rosetta would do a clean shave. Since he’d been gone, she’d started shaving again. Luckily, there was enough hair there to satisfy his desires.

“Not too much, daddy…”

“Mm,” Smoke flicked his tongue against her lips.

“I want you to do it to me, daddy…”

“Do it all night long, baby?”

“Do it to me, papa…”

Smoke’s dick jumped and stretched to proportions he couldn’t handle.

“I wanna suck on that pussy first…”

Rosetta’s clit twitched at the thought of Smoke slurping on her pussy cat until she was wrung dry. She had a lot for him to drank up. When she first laid eyes on him tonight, the wetness soaked through and created a slippery, sticky mess. Those big lips and that thick dick…

“Let me smell it,” Smoke picked Rosetta up and sat her down on the cramped counter space, “Spread your fuckin’ legs you sexy, bitch…”

Rosetta made quick work of her thighs spreading wide and limber. Smoke could see a big wet spot in the crotch of her cotton panties. He didn’t waste time stroking the outlines of her fat lips that strained against the fabric. Smoke chuckled before slipping her panties to the side. His fingertips graced coarse hair covered in slick and heat. Beyond that was a clit made to be suckled.

“Shit, she still get nice and wet for me,” Smoke admired the shine on his thick fingers before bringing it to his nose to take a whiff, “fuccck,” He pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean, “Fresh pussy…taste so good…”

He was down on his knees with his fingers tangled in her panties to keep them out of his way. Rosetta brought one leg up and it opened her lips more for him to eat. The humidity of that kitchen had their brown skin glistening beneath the dim, yellow, lamp lights. Smoke spread her lips and stared into her pussy. Rosetta stroked his slick-back, begging him to put his face in it.

Smoke buried his nose in it first. He rubbed her clit with the tip of his nose before using his lips to encase her clit and suck. He sucked nice and slow to warm her up, but then he created a vortex so tight with his lips Rosetta almost fell from the counter. The sucking came at a rapid pace—precise and intense.

“Uhnnn,” Rosetta gasped and moaned, “Daddy!”

Rosetta stroked her pussy many times to one of her favorite raunchy tunes. Jump Steady Daddy by Lucille Bogan stayed on repeat whenever she rubbed on her clit to the thought of her Smoke Daddy. She missed when he would come to her late at night, sneak in her bed and eat her pussy. She loved it when he would be on his knees, holding her weight up and fucking into her.

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

And if you love me like I did

You'll be that jump steady man of mine…

“Yes, ooh, daddy, papa,” Rosetta’s thighs shook out of her control, “Ima cum…Ima cum…”

The thin straps of her silk slip dangled from her shoulders and perspiration trickled down her spine. She didn’t have time to prepare before she was creaming down Smoke’s chin. All he did was suck her clit. He came up for air, lips dripping wet and face glistening with cum.

Her nipples poked out through her slip, teasing Smoke’s eyes. He was as hard as stone, unable to bear the feeling anymore. Smoke stood and picked Rosetta up from the counter, carrying her towards her room. The door was ajar, so all he needed to do was nudge it and he was walking inside. He didn’t bother closing the door. Smoke placed Rosetta on her back, climbing on top of her and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Rosetta smoothed his button down shirt over his shoulders and Smoke pulled his arms through. He had on a white beater that clung to his muscles like plaster. Smoke broke his lips away and trailed kisses down her neck until he was at the tops of her breasts. Rosetta arched up into his chest, soft moans music to his ears.

Smoke used his teeth to yank the rest of her slip down, revealing 34 C breasts with large nipples that reminded him of chocolate-covered gum drops. Rosetta dragged her nails through his hair, messing up the smoothness of it, revealing waves. Her updo had come undone, finger-waved hair falling into her eyes. The salty, sweet taste of her skin caused him to growl.

“Daddy…I wanna taste that dick…”

With a deep exhale, Smoke stood up. Rosetta sat up on her knees with her dress around her waist and went to work undoing his slacks. She pushed down his boxers and his pants in one motion, his dick bobbing out like a pendulum and hitting her on the chin. Rosetta admired how girthy and veiny her daddy’s dick is. She licked up the precum before it was wasted and with her eyes on him, she wrapped her lips around him and sucked.

“Ahhhh…There you go, baby…that’s how you welcome me home…suck this big boy…gobble it up…”

Her soft hair in his grasp, Smoke’s toned hips pumped her throat. He curled his top lip, revealing golds, grunting at the feel of her tight throat.

“Ugh, fuck, baby…the best dick suckin’ bird in N’awlins…”

Rosetta giggled in response. She prided herself in her skills. Sucking dick and riding dick was her specialty. Smoke licked his lips, eyes barely open as he watched her. He tilted his head and started drilling her mouth. Loud gagging noise started, Rosetta’s once pristine makeup now running down her face.

“You’re so beautiful wit’ my dick in your throat, baby…make daddy cum…so I can fuck that pussy…”

His girth increased, Rosetta’s jaws tightening. She grabbed hold of his balls and worked her neck like no other. Smoke chewed on his bottom lip and threw his head back.

“Hmmm….mmmmmm….”

His hips spasmed out of control. Rosetta almost choked on his thick cum. She had to spit his dick out just to swallow what she could. The rest painted her chest.

“Turn that ass over,” Smoke stepped out of his pants and with one hand on his long dick, he pumped it, “On your knees, gal.”

Rosetta brought that ass in the air and arched her back deep. Smoke stood behind her with a big dick swinging. Rosetta hadn’t felt it in two years. She was afraid. Shaking with fear. He had to open her up again.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” Smoke slapped her cheeks around, “Where you want this dick?”

“Daddy, fuck me!” Rosetta begged.

His dick aligned with her ass and with his big hands he tucked it higher. Smoke grunted and slapped her bouncy cheeks.

“Ouch! Papa…” Rosetta cried, more from surprise.

It hurt so good. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of her ass, leaving behind a burning sting that only made her wiggle her ass against him. Smoke rubbed her down before digging his fingers into the flesh, spreading her wide, and thrusting into her.

“Oh, my! Smoke!”

Rosetta’s ass recoiled and bounced off of Smoke’s sturdy hips. He had her by the hair, keeping her back arched. That man was fucking her like he was fresh out of jail. His thick shaft gave her stretch and his length made her feel it in her stomach. The sound of her wet pussy matched the skin-slapping.

“Big dick on you! Fuck!”

Smoke let go of her hair and grabbed her hips. Rosetta looked back at him with her mouth agape and brows knitted together in disbelief. His hair had puffed up and some strands fell over his forehead. He looked wild and sexy. Muscles flexing, golds flashing, eyes unblinking.

“Keep fuckin’ me, papa! Fuck this wet pussy, daddy! Oh my goddddd—”

Rosetta fell forward and buried her face in the sheets.

“Uh-uh,” Smoke brought one leg up, leaned over her, and wrapped a hand around her throat, “You can take this dick. Get that shit you want so bad,” Smoke said.

Every cry or whimper that came out of her mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a groan of his own in her ear.

“Grip me up like that…good girl…that’s it baby…”

Rosetta felt hot liquid trickling down her thighs. Tears brimmed her eyes and her body seized up with her release. Smoke withdrew his hips and got down behind her to lick her up. He licked her thighs, then trailed his spit to her folds. He rolled her onto her back and scooted her towards the edge of the bed. Ass hanging off, legs thrown over his shoulders, Smoke put that dick in her pussy and pounded up into her with sharp thrusts that had her toes curling.

“Oh, shit!” Rosetta and her swinging titties couldn’t handle it, “Damnit, Smoke! I’m cumin’ !!!!!”

Scooting her onto the bed, he pile-drived her into the creaky mattress. Folded in half was an understatement. She stared down the valley of his impressive body at his dick.

“Big Daddy!” Rosetta pressed her feet into his chest, “Fuck me good! Take this pussy!”

“This my fuckin’ pussy…”

Smoke slammed into her before dropping down to kiss her soft lips again. His thrusts turned into modulated pumps that caused her to gasp. Each time his dick would enter her, she would gasp with surprise. Smoke nibbled on her pouty bottom lip and stared into her eyes longingly.

You know I love you

I love you

I love you

I love you anyhow

And I don't care

If you don't want me

I'm yours right now…

“Cum for me Smoke Daddy…”

His forehead furrowed and with one more sharp thrust, he erupted deep in her womb.

———————-

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Envy

Soundwave is jealous Shockwave gets to have a pet.

Cyberverse, Shockwave x reader, AFAB human gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous, Soundwave has a crush on the reader, voyeurism, possessive Shockwave, slight breeding kink

It wasn’t fair how Shockwave got to keep a pet. In fact it was quite strange to see Shockwave take to anyone let alone an organic.

Homosapien, the species if primate that took their planet and molded it to their liking. Humans could be considered the dominant species in terms of the impact their presence has made.

Compared to Cybertronians, humans are so simple. Their issues, their wars, their joys all so simple. However despite this, or maybe because of this, Shockwave managed to find himself a doting pet.

For some reason it made Soundwave’s inner most energon come to a boil. It bubbled behind his spark seeing you so cutely perched atop Shockwave’s shoulder plate, holding onto one of his finials for balance, with your legs resting over his chasis.

Maybe he was just disgusted that Shockwave would let an organic being, sloppy and mucus producing, be so close to him let alone touch him. Maybe he was enraged with how Shockwave coddled you and kept you from speaking to the other Decepticons. You were an adult of your inferior species, if you misspoke and ended up squashed that shouldn’t be Shockwave’s responsibility.

Seeing you perched on Shockwave’s shoulder, head resting against his optic helm, very obviously bored with their meeting made something in Soundwave so furious he couldn’t describe it. He observed you from behind his red visor, your organic fibers pressed against Shockwave’s purple plating. What did those fibers feel like? Corse? Soft? Wirey? Why did you even have those silly fibers growing from your organic plating anyway.

Skin.

Soundwave remembered overhearing you correct Shockwave and tell him it was skin that covered your frame.

Frag, you corrected Shockwave and he didn’t dispose of your pathetic little body that instant.

Just why did Shockwave keep you around so much? Why did such a proud and logical mech succumb to such desires as to keep an organic pet like some low Autobot?

The way you nuzzled your face against Shockwave’s optic helm and absentmindedly stroked his finial with one of your much smaller hands made Soundwave’s spark irk. It was like you were punching him in his abdomen. Your soft and squishy meat hands managed to make the metal of his frame bend in jealousy.

No!

Soundwave was not jealous! Your soft form perched atop his rival’s shoulder shouldn’t make him feel so angry. Yet here he was seething in silence trying to make sense of his jealousy. Perhaps he wanted another cassette bot to accompany Lazerbeak? A small cassette bot he could have perched on his shoulder. One that would dote on him like you do Shockwave. A cassette bot that would stroke his faceplate, press gentle kisses across his mask, and calm him down.

“It’s okay,” the cassette bot would purr rubbing their soft face against his metal plating. “I’m your now. I’m all yours.” Little fibers tickling his audial receptor as his little cassette nuzzles him. Little fabric coverings bunching under his servo as he holds them against his chasis. You’d look so cute waiting for him in his habsuite, a cube of energon ready for him as you eagerly reach up to wrap your arms around him.

Soundwave shook his head finding his processor had conjured a fantasy he wasn’t entirely sure was his. Yet whose else’s fantasy could it be?

He could only stare at you so perfectly perched on Shockwave’s shoulder. Your eyes looked glazed over and your eyelids would shut periodically. Soundwave couldn’t figure out why he found the human recharge state so cute.

Then you looked at him.

Your tired gaze moved to Soundwave. He had heard that humans were sensitive to being stared at. It was amazing seeing how you could sense his gaze without even looking at him. Your eyes wandered over his frame in a bored manner before offering Soundwave a small smile.

He swore his spark stopped.

You then cuddled your face against Shockwave and closed your eyes. How could such a small organic feel so comfortable around mechs twice their size? Mechs that would kill them if they were only just a little bored. Do you really trust Shockwave enough to protect you against that? Shockwave? Of all mechs??

Soundwave wandered the various decks of the Nemesis ordering Decepticon foot soldiers to do various tasks to cover up the fact that he was trying to clear his mind.

Your soft organic features squished against Shockwave’s helm during the last bits of the meeting was imprinted on Soundwave’s processor. Your cute little intake parted open as you slept through the Decepticon High Command discussing strategy.

Your intake looked so soft. He’d seen you apply some sort of balm to your intake giving it a mild shine and a fruity smell. Soundwave had gotten the luxury of walking into Shockwave’s lab only to see you apply the balm then press your plush intake against Shockwave’s optic. Little wet kiss marks covered the side of his helmet as he worked.

Soundwave recorded the entire thing and meant to use it as blackmail against Shockwave but for some reason he couldn’t stop replaying the video. Cute little organic intake kissing the side of a big bad Decepticon’s helm like they were a sparkling.

Spundwave’s fantasy was thrown off when he heard a whine then a gasp. The noises sounded too airy to be caused by someone in pain so that meant-

Shockwave’s lab.

He was right in front of Shockwave’s lab.

Soundwave pushed the metal door open slightly only to peek in to see the source of the noise.

Your little form splayed on the table Shockwave used to operate on, sweat dripping off your body, your precious lips parted in wanting moans.

Soundwave couldn’t remove his optics from the scene. He couldn’t pry his gaze from how Shockwave’s servo dug into your thigh, squishing the meat there under his grasp, as he held your legs open. His spike buried halfway inside of you yet still more than enough to cause a bump on your lower abdomen.

Soundwave watched in awe as the bump would shrink then rise again with every thrust of Shockwave’s pelvis.

“You did excellent today,” Shockwave praised. You only moaned out his name reaching your little hands up towards him. The purple mech indulged by leaning down so you can grab onto his chasis. “You have been very well behaved,” Shockwave said in almost a whisper. “It is only logical to reinforce such behavior with a reward.” He ran his servo up your thigh to your hip grabbing the fat there and pulling you down with every thrust. His canon arm keeping him balanced on the table next to you as his pelvis swung into yours. Wet slopping sounds could be heard and Soundwave made sure to record them all.

His servo glided down to his modesty panel as it hissed open. Soundwave’s spike sprung out already glistening with transfluid. He rubbed his servo over the blue metal as he disabled his vocalizers.

Soundwave wondered what you felt like. He was thoroughly impressed that you were even able to take spike from a mech of Shockwave’s size. Considering your size difference, Soundwave assumed you’d be a tight fit. His servo gripped his spike harder trying to emulate what he thought your organic valve felt like.

Shockwave’s lab was filled with your sounds. Moans of his name, wet schlick from your pussy, your pleas for more from Shockwave. What more could you take? You could barely fit half his spike inside of you yet you want more?

Soundwave felt his servo quicken at how thoroughly used you looked. It was obvious Shockwave had been tormenting you for a while by the sounds of the leaky mess between your legs and the glistening sweat on your body.

“You will take my transfluid,” Shockwave said with a slight glitch in his voice. “Am I understood?”

You nodded eagerly. You lifted your pelvis giving Shockwave more room to use you like a spike sleeve. “Afterwards you are to use the plug I gave you,” Shockwave’s hips started to falter.

Plug?

Soundwave nearly overloaded onto the door to the lab. Shockwave had been filling you up with his overload then plugging up your little human valve to keep him inside. He wondered if you were wearing a plug during the meeting. Were you filled with transfluid with a cute plug keeping everything inside when you smiled at him?

Soundwave couldn’t control the way his servo moved. It should be his transfluid inside of you. Maybe Soundwave could fuck you well enough that he could push Shockwave’s tainted overload out of your pussy and replace that emptiness with his instead.

How cute would you look bent over, panting for air and leaking so much transfluid it forms a puddle under you. Soundwave would have to plug you up with his digits to make sure you didn’t waste anymore before filling you up all over again as punishment.

The shriek you let out of Shockwave’s name made Soundwave boil with rage yet the noise of you wailing in such pleasure was enough to throw him over the edge. Pink glowing fluid splattered against the door to the lab as Soundwave continued to ride out his high.

Around your spent hole, the same fluid leaked around Shockwave’s spike. His engine revving and his vents stuttering in bliss. His little pet, his perfectly trained spike sleeve. His and his alone; which reminded him.

A message appeared at the corner of Soundwave’s vision: “I hope we have come to a mutual understanding in regards to who the human belongs to.”

Soundwave leaned back against the other door confused in his post orgasmic haze before being hit with realization. He flipped his helmet around to look back into the room to see Shockwave looking at him from the corner of his optic as he tenderly caressed your body.

Your intake formed into a smile as you stretched and moaned under Shockwave’s servo. Your poor little brain filled with nothing but pure bliss at being filled with Shockwave’s overload.

Soundwave looked at his transfluid soaked servo then at the door he made a mess of then back at you being pampered by Shockwave.

The scientist’s servo slid back down to your human valve rubbing at your clit with his thumb. You squirmed under him with your eyebrows furrowed. Your moans a mixture of pain and pleasure all the while Shockwave stared at Soundwave through his hiding spot to further rub in whose pet you were.

[woozinhos]

you just have to be the best writer out there omg i love you

can i request wonwoo who is obsessed with his partners breasts? like he loves grabbing and marking them?

thank you so much ⭐️⭐️

Notes: I’m in the zone guys writing small and big fics

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*

Wonwoo is lying next to you, his body pressed against yours. He looks at you with a hungry gaze, his eyes trailing down to your chest. He reaches out and gently cups your breasts in his hands, his fingers lightly brushing against your skin. He leans in closer, his hot breath fanning against your chest as he starts to kiss and suck on your tits. His lips are soft and gentle at first, but soon he begins to grow more passionate, leaving marks on your skin as he sucks and bites.

As you look down at Wonwoo, you can see his eyes darken with desire. He glances up at you, his gaze intense and filled with lust. He doesn't stop what he's doing, continuing to worship your chest with his mouth. He moves from one breast to the other, alternating between sucking and nibbling on your sensitive buds. He pulls back for a moment, his lips glistening with your wetness. He looks at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of you beneath him. "You taste so good," he says, his voice deep and raspy. "I could do this all day."

You reach down and run your fingers through Wonwoo's hair, gently scratching his scalp. He lets out a soft sigh of pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans into your touch. He continues to suck on your tits, but he becomes more relaxed, enjoying the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He lets out a low hum of contentment, his body completely melting into your hand.

As you continue to stroke his hair, Wonwoo's movements become slower and more deliberate. He's taking his time, savoring the taste and feel of your skin against his tongue. He starts to use his tongue more, swirling it around your nipples in circles. He then looks up at you again, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desire. He murmurs against your skin. "You're driving me crazy."

Wonwoo finally stops sucking on your tits and pulls you closer to him, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist. He rests his head on your chest, nuzzling into you as he listens to the sound of your heartbeat. He lets out a satisfied sigh and holds you tighter, his body molding perfectly against yours. He's completely content, finding comfort in the warmth and safety of your embrace. "I'm never letting you go," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your chest. "You're mine." Wonwoo lifts his head up and looks at you again, a sly smile on his face.

"I almost forgot the most important thing," he says with a hint of mischief in his voice. He starts to suck harder on your boobs, making sure to leave dark and noticeable hickeys all over them. He moves his head from one side to the other, marking you with his mouth over and over again.

He seems to be enjoying himself immensely, his hands roaming all over your body possessively. He wants everyone to know that you belong to him and only him. Wonwoo is clearly obsessed with your body, and he can't get enough of marking you. He pulls back to admire his work, a smug look on his face as he sees the various hickeys and bite marks.

"Perfect," he says with a satisfied grin. "You look absolutely stunning with my marks on you."

[whetstonefires]

Thinking about the parallels set up between Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu, and how actually most of them are oddly specious.

The sketch of the backstory lines up, but on close examination they're mirror images.

Wei Wuxian wasn't kicked out of his sect, he left it. Wei Wuxian didn't hate the house he grew up in, he loved it, and getting the people there killed was the absolute last purpose for which his dark powers were ever intended.

Jiang Cheng was no Mo Ziyuan--his jealousy was a complicated thing all twisted up with love, and while he would lash out at Wei Wuxian both as a casual means of shit communication and more damagingly in moments of high tension, he had neither the desire nor the ability to bully him, and in general respected his boundaries almost too well.

When Wei Wuxian destroyed himself about Jiang Cheng, it was to give him cultivation, and protect his life and happiness. He would never have killed him.

Madam Yu was a domineering aunt-like figure, who hated Wei Wuxian for reasons of reputation, and because she had resented his dead mother, but she crucially did not have the power to actually disrupt his lifestyle to any significant extent.

Mo Xuanyu was shut up in a small room to rot; Wei Wuxian didn't even attend classes unless he wanted to. Mo Xuanyu was weak and disliked; Wei Wuxian was brilliant and popular.

Mo Xuanyu's uncle is a cipher of a figure, without character or agency, a nonentity who is resented to death apparently mostly for what he didn't do; in theory he is the master of the house, but he certainly never protected his wife and son's punching bag from them.

And this is what got me thinking along this track: because people keep interpreting Jiang Fengmian as this, as exactly like Mo Xuanyu's nameless uncle, a nonentity who lets his wife make all the decisions, and is contemptible therefore.

He shows up in fic characterized this way all the time, handled narratively as a gap rather than a person, an absence where there should have been a parent, and it's...totally inaccurate? The man only has a few scenes but the things that are most firmly established about him are:

he regularly goes out of his way to protect Wei Wuxian

he's extremely fond of Wei Wuxian

he cares a lot about ethical behavior

he's conflict-avoidant and gentle

he can and will overrule Yu Ziyuan when he's made up his mind, and there's nothing she can do about it

his communication skills are mediocre at best

he doesn't understand jiang cheng

he has a dumb sense of humor

Now almost none of this made it into cql besides point 4 and maybe 6, 5 is technically there but buried by the cinematic framing, so I totally get why the fandom on the whole struggles to characterize him well, and it's easier to write him off.

But it keeps bugging me to see him and Yu Ziyuan squashed into the mold of the Mo, because not only is that boring and reductive and kind-of-missing-the-point, it's like. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng's characterization suffers a lot when you alter the environment and take away the influence exerted by their shared father figure.

Jiang Fengmian was Wei Wuxian's primary adult role model and it shows.

Jiang Cheng's relationship to his own sense of ethics is fraught because 'teaching him good ethics' was his dad's number one parenting goal, but they misunderstood each other so badly (partly because Yu Ziyuan kept loudly misinterpreting them to each other, which is so realistic I can't get over it, that's exactly how it works good lord) that Jiang Cheng has a direct association between the concept of 'doing the right thing even when it's hard' and a feeling of personal inadequacy.

The fact that Wei Wuxian got their dad-person's approval for being exactly himself and Jiang Cheng not only couldn't do that, he couldn't even get that same level of approval when he really pushed himself to rise to expectations, because Jiang Fengmian did not intend that warmth as a 'reward,' and so never realized he was withholding it, and therefore misunderstood Jiang Cheng's visible jealousy as a dangerous sense of personal entitlement that had to be carefully restrained, which reinforced his distrust of Jiang-Cheng-the-person and fed into a shitty loop where they were less and less able to relate to one another--that's fantastic. That's so human! I love it so much.

Both their failures are their own but at the same time it would never have gotten so bad if Yu Ziyuan hadn't been interjecting herself in there, in the middle of their relationship, fucking it up. That's family, baby.

I would ofc like if there was more fic engaging with the subtleties of all this because it's so good, mxtx did such elegant work here and it is not sufficiently appreciated. But it's the kind of thing that's hard to write good fic about; I am struggling with it myself.

So mostly I wish there was just more fic that didn't impose Mo Xuanyu's cliche angst backstory on Wei Wuxian, who has a whole different thing going on.

[theprettynosferatu]

Welcome. Please, stay for a bit. We need to talk. You can keep touching yourself. I truly don't mind.

A while back we discussed the matter of your intelligence. Remember that? How much of a burden the label of "smart" is? Just look back to your school days. What would have been extraordinary successes for most were just... expected of you. After all, you are smart. And now look at you. You can't enjoy your own achievements because there's that little voice in your head telling you that you are not allowed to be proud of them: after all, you did only what was expected of you. Your baseline is other people's ceilings, and you taste no joy.

And the solitude! Oh, better not to get into that, right? How you can be surrounded by people and just know that were you to stop masking, few would comprehend you. Being smart doesn't make you happy. It makes you lonely.

But I have good news! See, dumb people can't become smart. But smart people sure as hell can be dumb!

You are clever enough to understand neuroplasticity. Your brain can be changed. Molded. Trained to the point you become a different person.

Surely you have discovered the power of edging. It makes it so hard to focus, it makes you so much more likely to do dumb, slutty things... and it gives you so much pleasure! So your brain slowly associates pleasure with being dumb, confused, slutty and fuzzy... you should do it more.

But you can do more. If you're so smart, you can tell when you're being clever. Well, when you notice yourself having such thoughts, stop. Instead think "I'm just a dumb slut" and focus your mind on delicious porn, on what a complete whore would do in whatever circumstances you are, how good it would be to be taken and broken down into a complete fuckdoll...

Over time, such thoughts will become second nature. The sluttier you get, the less you'll think those mean, smart thoughts.

Of course dumb is as dumb does! So... do the dumb thing! Ask the stupid questions you know the answer to. Giggle like a complete idiot. Make it so no one will see you as smart ever again. Dress for the part. After all, no one cares about your mind when they stare at your cleavage, your ass. Smile to let everyone know it's okay to stare.

It won't be an easy road. You will need to goon, train, edge, be disciplined in your road to stupid sluttiness! But I believe in you!

You can escape the shackles of intelligence. You can become the dumb whore you desire to be. And you'll be so much happier in the end!