#my art getting attention motivates me to draw more

[wolfram-blorbos]

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[abstract-ostrich]

o... old man yaoi....

[kerizaret]

I get worried that I'm misgendering you for some reason so I check your pronouns like 6 tines everytime I come on here. Abd I think that's kinda funny

In other news keri you are so talented and good st art it's actually kinda crazy. Very nice to scroll through your blog a d stare at it I love the attention to detail and the way you draw bodies and hair it's so fluffy and nice and *gets dragged away kicking and screaming*

You're also really good at writing abd workdbuilding and your stories are just as intricate as your art and also just as interesting. Keri why are you perfect

THAT IS FUNNY AUSYA I am but a girl... dw if u misgender me I don't mind HAHS it would be actually very funny

OOUDYDUHEJ YOU CANNOT JUS6 COME IN HERE LIKE THAT AND DISSOLVE ME INTO A BLUSHING MESS OF LOVE LYNNIE HOW ARE U SO NICE TO ME

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[munch-mumbles]

kj post five hundred thousand lamenting the loss of my passion for drawing because its starting to feel like its never coming back

[airborneice]

CRIES

WHAT THE HECK WIFE THEY'RE SO CUTEE 🥺🥺🥺 your agenda is correct this is the perfect dynamic for them 😭 like omg their signature colours even line up with the ones in the reference I'm going insane-

do you guys see this. do you see how much Wife is spoiling me with amazing things I have no idea what I did to deserve LOOK AT THEMMMMM this is everything to me 🥺

@hilda-appreciation-week Day 7 - Favourite AU(s)

@airborneice ‘s “Mattieverse”

As if I would pass up the opportunity to draw the kiddos 😌 drawing ref (& rambling) under the cut

Right, so I found this reference on pinterest and not only was it cute, it also played into my "Kaisa calls Mattie 'starlight'" agenda, so I decided to give it a try! Considering Mattieverse canon it would probably make more sense to have Mattie bringing Arwen along? But I just felt like the placements worked soo well with Harvey as the sun & Arwen as the moon (see, I can do sun/moon dynamics platonically, apparently), so here it is! I really love these characters and drawing them was so fun. The definetly deserve the appreciation, and I'd highly reccomend checking out the tagged blog to get to know them if you don't!

[canisalbus]

Hi! A little life update.

At the end of October I wrote that I was deep in a depression spiral and due to unexpected occurrences I had been left with basically no income for several months. I had emptied my savings at that point and was feeling extremely stressed, sick and hopeless.

I just want to thank everyone who reached out and offered support or even looked up my ko-fi info and sent me a donation. It was an unfathomably kind thing to do and helped me tremendously. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I was at the end of my tether, I had 1,70€ in my bank account at that moment. I was sleeping four hours per night on average because my insomnia was so out of control, and had more or less stopped eating, after surviving on nothing but porridge, bread, apples and buttered pasta for close to a month. Things were kind of dire. No one has ever showed me that kind of unprompted generosity before, irl or online. Thinking that people I've never even met were willing to support me like that both warms my heart and makes me feel kind of guilty and undeserving. I'm not used to being treated like that. I hope I didn't make you feel pressured to get involved. It did genuinely help me put myself back together though. The next day I went and bought some essential groceries and getting to eat properly was a massive boost in terms of energy and mood. I'm doing a little better now. I finally managed to get the financial situation corrected, but it'll take months before my finances recover and I'll be able to go shopping without feeling paranoid about counting every cent and hating myself if I buy a small treat. I mentioned that my seven years old, well-served laptop is on it's last legs, so the remaining funds are going towards putting together a new PC, hopefully soon. I don't really have any product or extra content to offer you as a thank you for the ko-fi donations I received, but I hope it's at least nice to think that they're directly enabling me to continue making more art in the future.

I'm still struggling with intense anxiety every day, and it has caused me to develope some kind of impostor syndrome that is impacting my online presence negatively at the moment. I look at the things I try to draw and the asks I get, and feel like nothing I create, say or write is good enough or worth people's time and attention. I'm having hard time opening up like I used to, and I miss the interactions I used to have here, they were an immense source of inspiration and motivation to me. But I'm trying to work on that, and hoping that posting stuff will start to feel more natural again eventually. This got a little long, but thanks for reading! I hope life treats you well.

[fxirybun]

💭 PAC: your DR s/o’s messages for you

this is a shift-related pick-a-card reading. DR means “desired reality” whilst s/o means “significant other”.

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ cat 🐈

thank you for being my source of light during my lowest point. you inspire me to think things positively and to motivate myself to improve on certain aspects of my life. your words of reassurance comforted me when I was doubting myself and my abilities of striving forward.

i see you as my mentor , the one who teaches me the art of appreciating oneself. you make me want to be a better person for you , sweetie , and I mean it. i don’t want to succumb myself in the dark any longer, and it was all thanks to you. thank you at the bottom of my heart for accepting me for who i am , even though you have seen my vulnerable side.

i may not be the perfect person that you wanted me to be , but I would like to ask you if you could give me a chance. a time for me to adjust myself and to reflect upon the flaws i have. life has been cruel to me ever since , and it was all because of the karma that I need to face from my past. but all this enduring misery led me to you and that our paths are meant to be crossed.

ෆ⸒⸒ coffee ☕

i came here to write down my thoughts about our connection. i've encountered numerous people in my life , who want to have a piece of myself and taste it for their pleasure. however , i can feel my heart wandering as if it were in constant search of something , of someone. who knew that this stained heart of mine was craving for you ? as i laid my eyes on you , i can feel the everlasting warmth that is emitted from you.

my sweetest devotion , your beauty outshines the rest , and better yet , i instinctively can see myself transforming into a moth , trying to come closer to the luminous star that can be only seen during the evening. i love how nurturing you are and that your intentions are pure , similar to how a mother fosters her children.

i would be lying if i told you that I’m not enthusiastic about our meeting. as a matter of fact , i'm getting impatient and am very much eager to encounter you sooner. i've been reckless about my actions in life by making poor choices and dating multiple people who would bring me more harm than good. please forgive me , my love , for being clueless that you were the one who could fill my heart’s desire.

ෆ⸒⸒ earphones 🎧

i've been meaning to write down my thoughts , though I’m not sure words can capture how much i miss you. i've met countless people , crossed paths with those who’ve sought my attention , but none have stirred my heart the way you do. lately , it feels as though my heart is wandering , always searching for something that’s missing—and that something is you. without you near , it’s as if a piece of me is lost , drifting in the void.

i think back to the moments when i was by your side , and the warmth you bring feels like a distant memory i can’t let go of. your presence has an undeniable gravity , pulling me in like the moon draws the tide. even in the quietest of nights , i find myself longing for the sound of your voice , the comfort of your touch. my world feels dimmer without you here , as if the light only returns when you’re close.

i never thought that i'd feel so incomplete in someone’s absence , but the truth is , i'm counting down the moments until we can be together again. every day that passes without you feels like a lifetime. please do know that you are never far from my thoughts , and i'm longing for the day when this distance between us is finally closed.

[officialundertakersmoocher]

may i pls request a scenario with violet and afab reader where he’s drawing them nude and then smut ensues?

An Artistic Craving

yall i am so sorry for the extended break, and I hope this meets your expectations 😭

Warnings: NSFW, Nudity, +18, Slightly OOC

• • •

"Stay still, okay?"

"But, Vi, it's so embarrassing..." You attempt to cover your assets which have been shamefully exposed to his eyes in the dimly lit study room.

"Don't think of it that way... It's just a study." You tried not to ask many questions, after all, he was more versed in the arts than you were.

It was lucky that you two happened to catch this moment alone, unchaperoned. Vi, actually very uncharacteristically, was the one to insist that he needed you as a model to finish this study to complete a project he was working on for his upcoming art exam.

After all, you two had been seeing each other for a long time now and were not only comfortable enough to do such a thing, but you also just happened to owe him a favor.

This is how you ended up in such a position for your lover, spewn on a dark purple couch in a private study room near the Purple House dorms. You knew that Gregory was too shy to say so, but there are many books on campus filled with similar references free for his use. He just wanted to spend time with you in an intimate setting such as this one.

You caught him stealing glances at you every once in a while, and he could sense your growing discomfort from staying still for so long.

He left his sketchbook behind momentarily to kneel down beside you and suddenly the room felt more quiet. Your eyes locked as he gently adjusts the position of your hand, placing it under your head in a graceful fashion.

He tilts his head and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face as if to get a better view.

He tried to back away to retreat to his seat, but was caught by your hand pulling him back. He sat confused for a moment but could tell your eyes were asking him to stay.

You move yourself upwards to face him and pull him into a kiss. His lips are soft and welcoming and he eventually moves to grab your waist.

You slowly move him onto the couch with you, straddling his waist. He begins to become shy from this now suddenly risqué moment and pulls away from your lips.

"Love, I don't know if we should..." You could feel the deep heat resonating from his cheeks, so you asked him softly, "Would you like me to stop...?"

"Please no..."

You just barely hear him mutter this, but his hot breath on your neck shows you how desperate he has become.

Before you know it, there are clothes being dragged away and thrown about the room, never finding the motivation to tear your lips apart from one another. You both are stuck in an agonizing dance, waiting for the moment that you both can be as close as you desire.

The room has reached a stillness as the dim candlelight bounces off of skin, and hot breath stills in the air. You are both frozen in time, taking in the moment for the first time now, and as you do, you notice that you've never really seen your lover in such a passionate way as this.

In this position, he's kneeling his body over yours and bowing his head in a shy manor. From the silence you hear him speak softly, asking, "Is this what you want, for sure?" And you have seemingly been too caught up in your own thoughts to notice the lingering question prodding in-between your thighs. You suddenly feel a harsh flush invading your cheeks and a needy wetness in the very same place that he finds his attention.

You turn your head to avoid the embarrassment of facing him as you answer his looming question.

Your voice shakes more than you intended it to, more out of anticipation than anything else. "Yes, of course, p-please keep going, my love-"

However, he catches you off guard by lowing his head down to your thighs. His proximity meant you could feel his breath tickle your skin and it invigorated you.

He softly grazed your folds with his fingers, and slowly exploring your body until he reached the most sensitive parts of you. The moment he grazed your clit, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan, which is exactly what pushed him to continue despite feeling his own uncertainty.

He follows the sounds of your sweet moans, touching you and exploring your body in ways that neither of you have experienced before. Before long you find yourself growing more in need of his touch, pulling his hands and guiding him to kiss you. You both are grasping for each others touch and cursing into the silence of this empty room when the tension reaches an all-time high. You find yourself guiding his cock lower as a sign that you are ready (or maybe as a sign that you can't wait much longer now).

He follows your lead, pushing himself slowly across your folds, letting out a sigh as he feels the warmth of your pussy against his skin. He has one hand behind your head as a comforting act as he slowly guides himself between your thighs. He watches your expression change to a grimace of pain, almost stopping himself, but instead he caresses your face in an attempt to sooth your pain. You start to adjust yourself and whisper for him to keep going, and after a few moments the pain starts to replace itself with great pleasure.

You can't help the moans that escape your lips as you grasp onto him, likely leaving scratch marks on his upper back.

However, he doesn't mind this one bit. He can only focus on this heavenly feeling that seemed to blur his vision and tingle at his senses. The pleasure became overwhelming before you could comprehend it and it feels like heaven.

The sounds that filled the room should have alerted the others of the acts you both were sharing tonight, and maybe, just maybe, you should have been more worried, but neither of you could have the gut to care. Not tonight, not when it just feels so good and your vision had started bleeding white as your bodies worked in tandem with one another. 

It felt like hours before you had found yourselves cuddling under a stray blanket, skin-to-skin and feeling on top of the world. There was peace settled in the air and you held each other and shared this perfect moment.

"Did you enjoy it?" Violet asked timidly while he stroked stray pieces of hair out of your face.

"Oh course, Darling. I've never felt closer to you than how we were tonight." You looked at him so softly and left a soft peck on his lips.

"Well, thats good, because... I didn't really get to finish my painting. We may have to do this again tomorrow night..." He wouldn't meet your eyes, but you knew that if you could see them, they would have a glint of excitement in them that you only see when he looks at you.

"Well, I suppose we would have to then- For your studies, of course."

• Epilogue • Tea Time •

"So, It couldn't have been just me who heard some oddly bizarre noises coming from the art studio on the west end last night..." Edgar mused to the other prefects as he took a mischievous sip.

"Oh, how I wonder what that could have possibly been coming from..." The sound of a breaking pencil could be heard only if he listened so intently.

"Oh, I heard it, alright." Greenhill pipped in, sounding more than mildly annoyed as he completed his afternoon stretch. "Some people really need to be more considerate of the fact that some of us need to study at such late hours."

"Well, maybe some people should consider that not everyone wants to hear the sound of your 2 hour long training routine at 12am either..." Bluewer rolled his eyes, obviously not knowing what the others were exactly referring to.

"Well, In just thinking that maybe when the professors discover a certain pair of undergarments left in said art studio on the west end, they may have to cancel class this morning. If you know what I mean..." Edgar takes an extended sip of his tea and watched as Gregory excuses himself, dropping his sketchbook and seemingly headed towards the west end.

"Well, that answers that." Edgar mutters with a smirk.

[lenny-link]

i usually like to piss haters off, if they said that my art is ugly and stupid, then ill make it twice stupider and uglier

bc i found it fun, i liked my ugly stupid drawings, im not making any profit or idk im simply having fun, im not an artist i dont study art, its just a hobby, and usually the hate comments never reached me it usually motivates me to do more

but i feel like they kinda do now, i look at my art and i only see very basic and cringe art

now it seems like im asking for compliments to make myself feel better, its not the purpose really, idk maybe i am, and it definitely makes me feel even more lame but whatev

and idk i feel kinda okay talking here bc iknow i wont get much attention on tumblr, its not like twt or instagram

i actually prefer tumblr over other social media, no one come here to become the next Mr.CoolArtistWith200kFollowers you know what i mean

anyways im just rambling idk whats the point of this post i never hated my art as much as today feeling like i should delete all my socials and never draw again but im sure ill get over

ill see ya soon dw

[melancholic-minx]

ᴿⁱᵇᵇᵘⁿ ᵂᵉᵉᵏ ᴰᵃʸ ᴺᴼ.⁴| ᴾˡᵘˢʰⁱᵉˢ

﹫𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜♤ₘᵢₙₓ

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♥︎ 𖤂 ⭟ ːː

﹫𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜|♤ ₘᵢₙₓ

Hi...hello... there's a lot more of you there now... ( ;´･ω･`) makes me a little nervous. I was never used to my art getting so much attention, so it warms my heart to see so many people who are interested in my work! I remember as a kid getting excited over the feeling of my work getting featured on amino, and this is just as thrilling. I feel so motivated !!

Anyways, prompt no.4 !! I had an easy time with this one, because it didn't take much illustration as it did collage-ing, if that's even a word. I often like using cut outs of images and textures in my art, so this was a whole heap of fun. It's like reversed mixed-media, when you're so used to mixing medias you don't explore its roots.

I had to re-edit this drawing thrice due to forgetting details I had added in the designs I had for them, and I even forgot the little clown face on Jax's overall pocket. Although, I'm not really married to that idea. I also forgot to add whiskers to two of the three last pieces I made for Jax, so that's a bummer. I read somewhere that adding all these animalistic details to Jax removes the cartoonish and uncannily human elements to his character, and although I agree, I'm also at conflict with myself since I've already had my design for him in mind for a while. Gangle was a whole other bag of coins to sort out.

I actually finished this piece relatively early yesterday, but the hardest part of posting is...the posting. I don't know why, but having to roll out the aesthetic template and type up the hashtags is like pulling teeth for me, especially when Tumblr CURRUPTS MY DRAFTS.

More coming soon today !! ☺️

[commanderyes]

The Commander Says Goodbye

I’m not going to lie, I’m extremely anxious as i’m writing this, out of what these news could mean to a lot of people, and my heart feels heavy enough it could drop down my ribcage any minute from now and squish all my other organs. But I’ve been dancing around this topic for a long time now, and I think i’ve finally reached a point where i can’t ignore it anymore, for my own sake.

I hereby announce Commander Yes has come to an end.

As I’ve mentioned plenty of times before, here and to many other people, when I began this comic all the way back in 2018 I was in a really bad, really low place in my life in every sense of the word, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision to cheer myself up, because Path of Fire had just released and my enjoyment of the game had reached fever pitch and I had been playing Guild Wars 2 alone since as far as launch, and none of my other friends had ever really gotten into it. I guess I just, dunno, cried out into the big maelstrom of the community, one voice amidst millions, because i wanted SOMEBODY to look at what i did and revel in the nerdery with me.

And somehow the snowball began to roll and people wanted more and more of what I could do, and I was being actively reached out to, and, well, some time after that I landed my first ever job, I discovered a lot of things about myself, and I found myself in communities that welcomed me with open arms, and many of the people in there have since become among the best friends I could’ve possibly encountered, kindred souls who i’ve shared joys and sorrows for many years and who I can’t imagine living without anymore.

And all the while I kept making the comics, and with every entry posted every week I’d keep having people stopping to comment on them, and whether they were dumb jokes or personal takes on the story, they’d all share how much what I do kept hitting them in the kokoro, and to this day whenever I play anywhere in the game I still get people who recognize me and thank me for doing what I do. It was wonderful, it IS wonderful, and seeing that response motivated me to keep going, because what did still mattered to people, out there.

But I did always say I planned to keep doing these comics until I ran out of energy for them, and I think i’ve finally reached that point.

Because ever since I actually landed that job I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived every other day, so much so that I only have time to work on the comic on saturdays and sundays, and it gets harder and harder to just sit and draw, and at that point it was just more work, and while I still enjoy and play Guild Wars 2 a lot, it no longer consumes my time and attention like I’ve used to and i’ve been having fun with more personal projects, and honestly the direction the story is taking these days does not sit right with me and it’s hard to find inspiration in that, and this might be borderline selfish but every year I find people care less and less about the comics and it really takes a hit to you motivation when hardly anybody responds after you’ve spent a whole weekend trying to squeeze a five-page comic out.

And, well, I have been doing these for six years straight, and I think that’s a good run. I’m tired, and ready to move on, at long last. Let it be someone else’s turn.

But that’s the beautiful thing about this community, isn’t it? Even if I’m hanging up the hat, there are a whole lot of fantastic artists out there, as we speak, still cranking out works of art, deserving of all the attention they can get. And think of all the artists yet to come! For every story that ends, another story is just about to begin!

The world keeps on spinning, one way or another.

I’ll be closing my patreon shortly after this, but the reddit archives and tumblr blog shall remain for people to browse whenever they feel like (or until they both go in flames, i guess, what social media isn’t about to these days)

I still don’t think I ever was that much of a big deal, but all the same, to everyone who’s ever supported me and helped me be the person I am right now, to everyone who’s been there from the beginning, to all the devs of this game that has captured us for nearly a decade now, to all my fellow players and artists out there

Thank you.

See you out there, fellow commanders. Still the stars find their way.

[okiedokrie]

High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Ares, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

I admire your patience with those readers who need you to spoon feed them the story. Everything is in the comics but they still manage to go pass it. I can't help but feel a bit sad for them? Do they not understand what they read? Are they not attentive when reading it? I'm legitimately concerned because I function so differently I can't fathom this. If you like a story, isn't it normal to make your best to grasp it's essence and reflect on it? I know I project a lot about this, everyone works and registers things differentely of course but sometimes it's very frustrating to see people consume any media and just completely miss all the important messages in it, or even just fail to get the scenario sometimes, and it feels like it's very common now... Idk I just wanted maybe to have your perspective on this? Sorry for the long post (Been here for a few years now and your a true inspiration to me. All my luv to you! ❤️)

You know, I'm gonna be honest. I used to stress out about this... a LOT.

As a story-brained person, this is definitely something that comes naturally to me, and perhaps to you, and to many other people who are wired similarly. To us, following the path of a story in an analytic, highly detail-motivated manner and unwrapping the themes can be as exciting as lifting up a rock to see the bugs underneath. It's an exciting mental activity that's stimulating and feels effortless.

And yes, as an author who spends literally 60% of my day thinking about this comic and how to draw it, panel it, script it, make it better (I script and panel in my head constantly)........ I have trouble realizing/dealing with the fact that some people are just here to CASUALLY enjoy the story that I am lowkey obsessed with.

But I've come to realize that... that's NORMAL! And healthy.

People have different attention spans for different things.

People have varied ways to read a story and engage with it.

People have unique interests.

People don't have the same amounts of energy to devote to reading!

Maybe someone missed a detail I lovingly and painstakingly put into the dialogue because they're reading the update late at night after a long shift at work. And maybe someone scrolled past the dialogue completely and just got the gist from looking at the art, because they're in a hurry to get to practice at their favorite sportsball.

And maybe someone just had a really bad day with a really bad encounter, and they're reading the update in a terrible mood and instead of seeing MY grey-morality narrative, they're focusing on all the negative points and misread the vibes because of their own biases that stem from places of hurt.

The thing is, I have to be okay with that as an author, because I will NEVER be able to get into my audience's heads and read this comic 'correctly' for my own sake.

They will always have a slightly different interpretation of things, and they will always misunderstand details and miss clues. And sometimes, they will be wrong about the way they read a character's motivations... and sometimes maybe they won't be! That's just a part of communication. That's a part of telling a story.

An imperfect delivery, and an imperfect reception should, in my opinion, be a natural and accepted part of storytelling. We're human, and we all have a different lived experience, and we will ALL have different takes on a comic, even if it's so close that we THINK we are both getting the exact same thing. That small human interpretation variation is a home-made touch that makes it feel more organic.

In short.... Not all light particles make it here from the sun, but damn the result is stunning anyway.

[chlorinecake]

🍌 forbidden fruit | j.sc

✼ plot: just the reader catching feelings for her younger sister’s swim coach and doing anything she can to get between his legs

✼ word count: 4.8k

✼ contains: swearing, an oc + anton, teasing with food, mild exhibitionism, unprotected sex (but he doesn’t finish inside), oral (m.r), fingering (f.r)

YOU WERE CONVINCED THAT that your younger sister was born into this world a mermaid, blessed with gorgeous locks and dazzling brown eyes that earned her the name Hazel at birth.

Though her hair now was often covered by a silicone swim cap with her honey-hued eyes shielded behind waterproof goggles, one thing that remained the same was her ability to swim as if the water simply carried her across its bumping waves.

You remember her first time in a pool like it was yesterday, her legs taking off with more ease than she ever had while walking, meanwhile, you sat idly in a donut floaty, cheering her on with smiles on both your faces.

Since then, Hazel never stopped swimming.

Though, you were more inclined to the creative arts rather than anything sporty.

Unless, the sport in question involved chasing after Hazel’s personal swim coach, Jung Sungchan: a former competitive swimmer himself until he opted to train after a minor injury.

You were careful not to let your eyes linger for longer than necessary whenever you stuck back to watch Hazel practice with him, despite the tantalizing view of Sungchan’s washboard abs poking through his swim shirt, or the way his wet hair clung to his sweaty forehead.

Well, with that description, it’s fair to say that your mind and imagination did all the lingering for you, his lower half being practically burned into your mind the moment you got a glimpse of his bulge one day.

Gosh, you felt like such a loser knowing that your main motivation to accompany your sister at swim lessons these days was for the sake of seeing Sungchan, despite how you'd barely even formed a decent relationship with him.

The key word here being decent-

“Breathe, Hazel, breathe!” Sungchan hollered, distracting you from your thoughts and drawing your attention back to your sister who had just beat her fastest 50 meter lap record of her life.

Sungchan met her at the end of the pool, “Less than 24 seconds,” she huffed proudly, just as he rejected their usual high five and instead, helped her out of the pool.

“What was that all about, hmm?”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Coach. I can hold my breath for a lot longer-”

“Don’t make anymore rookie mistakes, alright? It’s not always about time when we’re training, but efficiency.”

Hazel sighed at his words, taking off her goggles and letting them rest around her neck before looking back up at him, “Let me guess then… bobbing circuits as a punishment?”

“After break,” he smiled sarcastically, patting her on the shoulder while she chuckled at his behavior, walking off to the ladies locker room before passing a look your way, “Hey, ____?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Would you mind getting me a snack from my duffel bag? It’s in the floral container.”

“Sure,” you said, uncrossing your legs and getting up from the bleachers while gathering each others things in a backpack.

Sungchan looked at the time on his watch, and it turned out that practice was already over for the day, “On second thought, how about I treat us all for lunch today?”

His offer caught the both of you off guard, “Seriously?,” Hazel questioned, “even after the little stunt I pulled?”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he shrugged, washing some equipment down with a hose.

“Give me twelve minutes to get ready,” she said, skipping to the bathrooms and almost immediately turning on the shower.

You wondered how much you and Sungchan could get away with while your little sister showered.

In a perfect world, your desires would already be a part of your reality by now, instead of something that just kept you entertained during Hazel’s swim classes.

A smirk crept up Sungchan’s deer-like features, shamelessly peeking at you before directing the hose your way, splashing you with a bit of water while giggling to himself.

“What the- stop that, you big freaking dork,” you giggled back, covering your face with your hands while running over to him, grabbing the hose and turning the faucet off.

The way both your hands looked while wrapped around the dark green tube, your smaller ones contrasting with his much larger and veinier ones made your breath stop in your throat for a second, a certain memory of you two resurfacing in your thoughts.

He handed you a towel to dry off, shaking his hair out like a puppy as he took a few steps away from you, your mind finally coming back down to earth.

“My sister seems to be excelling with her training recently… you should really give her more credit for her hard work,” you started, knowing that he'd have a response to that.

“Uhuh,” he replied briefly, leaning down to loop the water hose around its designated hook on the wall, “last time I checked, motivation doesn’t start with fleeting praises, but notable progression.”

“She literally beat a record today, Coach,” you defended, tossing your old towel in the nearby laundry bin.

A bit of silence meddled between you two, your eyes trying their best to be normal as he walked closer to you, every muscle in his body standing out in your peripheral vision, almost making it pointless for you to even try looking away now.

“You already know you can call me Sungchan, ____,” he smirked, hooking a finger in the belt loop of your jeans, “and you’re still wet, by the way... ‘can see it outlining your panties…”

Gosh, you hated how your mind thought of something dirty when those words left his mouth, wanting to disappear as an unbeatable heat raised to your face, all over a brief moment between you two that started and ended with a water hose.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 Later...

The three of you were now eating lunch together at a newly opened seafood bar called Fin & Shell, just a few miles from the training center.

You were all making conversation about the quality of the fish and chips and their odd choice of placing a fruit bowl in the center of the table when Hazel got up to get more napkins, leaving you and Sungchan alone.

Your hand found his thigh under the table before stroking it, dangerously close to his private area.

“Interesting way to get your hands clean,” he joked plainly, making you laugh at yourself a bit before continuing.

“You know there's not a clean damn thing about what I'm doing right now,” you said, fingers tip-toeing around where you wanted to feel him most.

“I know what you want, ____, but I'm afraid you're out of luck these days...”

“And why's that?”

“Because, your sister looks up to me now... I've earned her respect, and it’d only hurt her if she found out about us, let alone our past,” he continued, taking a sip from his drink, “I don't wanna risk it interfering with her athletic progression.”

The fact that Sungchan valued Hazel's well-being more than you in this matter was quite baffling to be honest.

Though, you couldn't help but internally roll your eyes at his empathy, “We’ll just have to be sneaky about it, then,” you tried, hands going back to caress his now tense thighs.

“I’d rather penetrate you with this banana than my dick, ____,” he retorted playfully while picking one from the fruit basket, his cute little smile coming into show despite how you were hardly in the mood to joke around.

You took the banana from his grasp after watching him struggle to open it for a bit, looking him in the eyes while asking, “Can I have a bite?”

“Sure, but don’t be slutty about it,” he teased, looking as your teeth sunk into the banana's sweet flesh, plump lips seductively sealing with the bite before handing it back to him.

The image of you doing that would stain his mind for the next few hours, knowing deep down in the depths of his swim trunks that for professionalism or not, he was gonna get you to look at him like that again real soon.

“Uhhh, you two look strange... What’d I miss?,” Hazel chirped as she came back from her adventure to find napkins, sliding back next to you at the round table.

“Well,” you started, folding your hands over themselves, “Sungchan was just telling me about how he wouldn’t mind giving me beginner's swimming lessons tomorrow.”

“What?! No, I- ngh-,” he groaned, feeling as you applied pressure to his sensitive bulge, one of his hands flying over yours pleadingly as he redirected his initial sentence, “I mean,” he chuckled dryly, struggling to mask the way his facial features were twisting from your actions, “yeah. She’s um… really eager to develop some basic skills herself, y’know? For some sister bonding time…”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” you smiled, just as your sister began to speak.

“Oh… okay then! Sounds fun, I guess... Just don’t think I’ll be sharing my anti-fog goggles with you,” she giggled, looking at Sungchan before noticed the uncomfortable look on his face, your hand still pressing firmly against him, “you alright, Coach?”

“Yeah, just a bit... uhm...” he let out a shaky exhale, “sensitive… to my banana allergy...”

You felt his hand overcome yours with strength, making you retreat from your ministrations with a satisfied feeling in yourself.

“Okayyyy…” Hazel replied, raising her eyebrows dumbfoundedly as he got up from the table, pushing his chair in, “I’m gonna go get some water, but you two finish up. I'll be back in a bit.”

Hazel shrugged off the weird vibes y'all were giving off, taking a satisfied bite of the fish sandwich she'd ordered while you finished eating up your fries, finding immense pleasure in how flustered you got Sungchan to become.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 The next day...

You got up early the next morning, skipping your usual coffee run to avoid any 'pool cramps' while swimming as directed by myth Hazel.

You weren’t one to wear swim caps, so you just put your hair in a cute low-maintenance style, packing both you and her a mini snack to bring for the day ahead.

“Welcome, ladies,” Sungchan greeted, clapping his hands from all the energy pulsing through his veins, “There are de-fogged goggles on the rack over there… kudos to Anton for setting those up first thing, by the way.”

Anton?, you asked yourself, the name alone being nowhere near as familiar as the face you soon were met with, popping out of the water with a navy blue swimcap secured around his head, soft eyes meeting yours as an almost inaudible “hi” fell from his lips.

“Oh my God, Anton!” Hazel yelped, hopping in the water before swimming towards the later end of the pool to meet him, “last one back has to do the laundry.”

Almost immediately, your sister and him both took off with kicks like torpedos, meanwhile you tried piecing together where you recognized Anton from, and then it hit you:

He and your little sister used to train more often together back in the day, but after he got scouted for the swim team in New Jersey, you saw less and less of him over time…

Still and all, he looked quite similar to the sheepish boy Hazel used to crush on a few years back, excluding his now matured physique, of course.

They were already back to the wall by time your thoughts stopped, starting up some small talk between each other.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be back in town?” Hazel asked, out of breath from trying her hardest to out-swim Anton, who beat her by a landslide.

“Honestly I was surprised, myself. One of my mom’s coworker’s oldest son’s are getting married soon, so we flew out to celebrate... We don’t get back til a week from now, though.”

“Awesome! So that means we can spend more time together til you get back to your fancy New Jersey team,” she teased, shoving Anton’s shoulder playfully as he laughed off her words.

“Stop, you know I love it here, Hazel. This place made me who I am as a swimmer today...”

Sungchan suddenly blew the whistle around his neck, “Hazel, you’re supposed to be working on warm up’s and strength training right now. You can lallygag with Anton later, I’ll need his help and focus today.”

“His help? With what? I say this with all due respect, Coach, but aren’t you the professional here?”

“I indeed am… but he’ll be in charge of teaching ____ today.”

You and Hazel’s eyes widened simultaneously at Sungchan’s words, “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” he replied plainly, taking off his whistle necklace and tossing it on a nearby table, “Like you said, I’m the expert, and thus, my expertise is needed more with you, Hazel...”

Sungchan walked around the edge of the pool, keeping a steady pace as not to slip on any water as he met you where you sat, “____’s quite the handsy one, but I’m sure little Anton can manage her for the day,” he smirked, pinching your cheek before handing you a pair of goggles and walking off cheekily.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ...

You’ll admit that your swimming lesson with Anton went well, though it was obvious you would’ve much rather spent that time with Sungchan, and you planned to give him a piece of your mind as soon as possible.

You had already showered up by now, approaching him in the pool area with every intent to get something out of him.

“So you making me splash around with a kid my sisters age was your way of getting back at me for the Fin & Shells thing, huh?,” you accused, watching as he put away some wet swimming equipment.

“You can’t make me back down that easily, y’know?”

He glanced at you for a quick second, “And what makes you think that’s my intention?”

“Just the plain fact that you’re scared to continue what we started…”

He narrowed his eyes, flicking the water off his hands before facing you head on, “No, but you should be,” he said, voice falling a little deeper, “you’ve seen me before, and that’s not something most girls are prepared for.”

“Please, don’t be so full of yourself,” you scoffed, mirroring his nonchalant voice as your eyes scanned his movements, legs following him all the way to the empty men’s locker room where he sat on a wall bench to relax, looking back at you with a slightly annoyed look on his face.

“You know?… All that stuff you said about professionalism was bullshit… we’ve crossed that line way long ago, and your size isn’t gonna get in the way… trust me...”

You made your way over to sit on his lap, straddling him with your hands at his shoulders.

“God, you’re so overbearing,” he sighed, your lips immediately finding his jawline, causing his words to fall out as hums instead of coherent syllables, “d’you understand what you’re playing with right now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed back, gently nibbling the space underneath his ear.

His hands clung to your loose top as a way to control himself, but also because he wanted more, your hips rocking against his being enough to make him feel needy.

Not that he’d ever admit that to you though…

Your hot and wet kisses started to trail from Sungchan’s neck and to his plush lips, your hands sliding under his shirt to feel him as he mirrored your energy, lips moving in sync.

He was giving in to your ministrations, and you could tell by his breathing, which had become jagged and heavy… not in a submissive way, but with desire.

Frustration, even.

The muscles in his abdomen tensed and relaxed as you went back to kissing his neck, hoping that your lips would leave a mark or two while you were at it, “We can worry about a backup plan later, Sungchan—”

He groaned faintly, just as you pressed your core harder against him, feeling his hardness grow between your thighs.

Sungchan’s mind was getting fuzzy to the point where your words became like background music, present to him, but impossible to really focus on.

And he didn’t like that one bit…

The way you persuaded him so easily, having his dry mouth on the verge of begging you to kiss him again.

If this was gonna happen between you two, he wanted to be the one in charge.

“Fine,” he said sharply, causing you to look into his dark brown eyes, which were still slightly watery from the chlorine in the pool water.

“I just need to make sure you can handle it first,” Sungchan continued, guiding you off of his lap by the waist before digging his thumb into your shoulder, forcing you down to your knees in front of him.

His hands found your hair, leading your cheek to his bulge and lifting his hips to grind into your face slightly, eager to explore the friction but still wanting to test himself.

Test his self-control despite how it was basically out the window by now.

You clung to his toned thighs to keep your balance, eyelids fluttering shut before he smacked you gently on the other cheek, making you look back up at him once again as he rutted a little harder.

“Too big for you, baby?,” he teased, all of that while snickering under his breath, biting his lip before a smirk appeared on his stupid hot face.

It was always strangely exciting honestly… watching him switch from hot to cold, turning himself on just from jumping your cheek.

Everything you’ve been waiting for.

“I can feel you twitching,” you hummed, turning your head to face his heat head on, giving him sirenic eyes as you poked your tongue out, licking a stripe along his clothed member, “can hardly taste you through these pants, though…”

He cooed at your words, stroking your hair as you kept licking him up, a dark spot forming on his pants from your spit and probably some of his precum.

“Can you at least pretend you’re not such an eager slut for me?” He tried teasing, even though his voice sounded a bit strained.

You trailed a finger from his clothed tip to the drawstring of his pants before pulling the bow a loose, “We both know that’s not what you really want, Sungie...”

Shimmying his pants down, you were not at all surprised when his cock sprung out like a hot stinger, slapping against his stomach with an angry vein trailing its underside.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, watching as you didn’t hesitate to take him in your mouth, bobbing your head slowly to adjust to his size, but you could hardly fit more than half of him into your mouth.

“Easy there, ____,” he said in a deepened voice, feeling his balls tighten at the way you gagged around him, trying to fit it all in.

Releasing your lips with a pop, your jerked him with your hand, looking him dead in the eyes before reassuring him, “I can take it.”

“Prove it to me then…,” he challenged you, “or else this is all you’re getting…”

You internally scoffed at his words, “Having second thoughts?”

“No… Just don’t wanna risk breaking you before I even get started properly…”

The top of your tongue found his slit again, running rough stripes past it and suddenly asking, “We’re already taking a risk, why stop here?”

He let you continue fooling around with his dick for a little more until he pulled your chin away, looking you in the eyes-

“Get on your back.”

The voice you heard was enough to make you recognize what was really going on.

“W-what?,” you asked confusedly, having been snapped out of your mind, yet still feeling as though only half of you was present.

“I said get on your back? So we can stretch first?,” Anton said, mirroring the same dumbfounded look you had on your face.

“Oh... sorry, I uh... I got distracted...”

“Its okay,” he answered softly, leading you to the training mat on the floor, “let's just stay focused for now, alright? Once you fully lay down, start by pulling your knees to your chest to stretch out your hamstrings...”

Anton's voice faded into the background of your mind as your body continued to follow his instructions, somewhat thankful for the dark colored fitness clothes you wore considering how wet you'd gotten over your little memory about Sungchan.

It was the first time you actually did anything sexual with him.

It happened over four months ago, but you still remembered the whole thing like it happened yesterday.

Though, Sungchan eventually ended your secret fling for the sake of Hazel, not wanting to hurt her or risk ruining things between you two for 'fleeting feelings.'

Even so, you’d just been so down bad for him all this time that it was getting harder to respect that boundary of his...

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 Later...

Hazel and Anton had ran off to get smoothies together after practice with your permission obviously, Sungchan having stayed back to put the lane lines back in the pool after y’all finished training.

You asked if it was okay for you to hang back in the pool til he shut down the area, just so you could 'work on what you learned.'

He didn't talk to you much, which only annoyed you, leading to your sneaky backup plan to get his attention.

“Sungchanie~,” you sang in a whiny tone, “I need your help!”

“What is it this time?,” he asked, not even looking at you as he busied himself with putting away the tool box he was using.

“My bikini top came off... it floated away…”

“____, stop messing around, alright?”

“I'm serious,” you pleaded facetiously, covering your chest with your arms to sell your performance, “I'd get it myself, but it’s in the deep, so I can't.”

He sighed with a stern look on his face before answering, "Alright, just- … gimme a sec."

Sungchan took off his shirt, tossing it to the side before diving in the pool to fish around for your bra.

He found it pretty quickly, swimming back to the surface while treading with it in his hand.

“This it?” He asked, regardless of how obvious the answer was.

“Mhm…” You nodded back with a lil too much enthusiasm, sitting at the swim steps and waiting for him to go back under the water as you sneakily took off you bikini bottom next, waiting to see his reaction once he came over to you.

Bubbles erupted from his nose underwater, the sight of your bare core causing him to stumble over his trained breathing pattern.

You giggled a bit at his reaction, still covering your tits as his head flew up, shaking the water from his hair in a way that only made you want him more, which obviously wasn't his intention given the look on his face.

“What do you think this is? Some kind of game?” He snapped sharply, tossing your bra to you and using the steps to get out of the pool, just as you reached for his wrist to pull him back.

“Sungchan, wait! I'm sorry—” you started, but his hand left yours anyway, feet moving in the opposite direction of you before a soft "please," left your lips, making him pause in his tracks.

He sighed, “What?,” but it sounded more like a statement than a question.

“Can't you see that I'm losing my mind over this?” you answered with a defeated voice.

“It's not a good time right now, ____—”

“God, would you stop being so uptight like you don't want this, too?”

“I never said anything like that—”

“Because you don't have to,” you interrupted, cutting him off as a lump formed in your throat, not from sadness, but from exhaustion: you didn't know how much longer you could keep chasing him…

Without hesitation, you started to put your two-piece back on, water splashing a bit with your movements as he stood there coldly, not even looking you in the eye as you continued to speak, “You're right, Sungchan... this is all just a silly little game, and I seriously should've stopped trying a long time ago-”

“Just shut up, alright?” he retorted, looking you in the eyes as his body inched closer towards you, your eyebrows furrowing at the harsh tone of his words.

“Excuse me—”

“You win, ____,” his voice was deeper this time, wet hands finding your neck before caressing up your face, everything going black once he found your lips, sealing the the tension with a kiss, “I'll let you have your way.”

HIs tongue tangled with yours as he pulled you impossibly close to him, your heart nearly beating out of your chest before he backed away, hands gripping at everything from your boobs to your hips as he kissed down your sensitive neck.

Your legs subconsciously parting for him as you felt him start to suck at the exposed flesh there.

You don't even remember saying much of anything once he found your bikini, sliding it over as his fingers came into contact with your folds, barely touching you before you started squirming.

“God, you're so dramatic,” he shook his head, applying pressure to your clit with his cold fingers, contrasted with your increasing warmth.

“It’s not my fault you make me this way,” you purred, letting him kiss on you so hard that he left little marks behind, already getting you so worked up that even the simplest of his ministrations seemed intense.

That was when he sped up the movements of his fingers, not even sure how long he'd been at that pace before you started to feel tantalized, wanting to feel his dick before he made you finish.

It was strange though, the way your slick stood out against the water, his fingers gliding in and out of your hole as his thumb circled your sweet spot.

He was making you fall apart, and at that, single-handedly.

“Sungchan~,” you whined shyly, thankful for his arm maintaining your balance as your hands remained around the loop of your bra, giving you something to grab onto as he kept fucking you with his fingers, “I wanna feel you...”

As simple as those four words were, Sungchan knew exactly what you meant and wanted from him, but decided to mess with you nonetheless…

“Baby? You're already falling apart… what makes you think you can handle any more?” he teased, trying to act all tough with you even though he was about to buss in his pants given how unreal you looked in this moment.

Lower lip swollen from the way you bit down on it to hide your sounds, neck sprouting with darkening hickeys, hands clinging to your own tits for leverage, and your wet hair sprawled all over your head...

This was a view that could never get old to him, if he was even lucky enough to see it every single day.

“Please... fuck, just- mmm,” you stumbled over your words, feeling lightheaded as moans fell from your mouth like rehearsed melodies, your back arching even more as his fingers were in knuckle-deep now, your approaching climax causing you to open up for him.

“Cum for me,” he whispered, putting his forehead against yours, thumb relentlessly toying with your clit as he grew more eager in his own pants.

As much as you wanted to refuse his words for the sake of saving your orgasm, you couldn't help but to release, creaming all over his long and slender fingers as you felt your high in every part of your body.

Sungchan didn't hesitate to pull his fingers away from you, sliding down his trousers and spreading your slick across his length under the water.

“You've got another one in you for me, yea?,” he asked, voice sounding rasp as he pressed his tip against you, your trembling thighs struggling to stay open.

“Gimme a sec to come down first,” you nearly begged, watching his eyes grow darker as he pushed through your thighs, hips meeting yours with a splash.

“You know we don't have time for that, ____,” he continued with a suppressed groan, feeling his dick warm up all your insides as he slid past your wetness and bottomed out, guiding your hands from your chest to his shoulders... “just hang on, okay?”

You barely even nodded before he started fucking into you, walls giving in to his size thanks to the water, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt just a little bit.

He caught sight to your discomfort early on, catching your lips with his to keep your mind off the pain, both your breaths sounding shaky now from all the action.

He started to pick up the pace again, not bothering to hide his moans anymore as you clenched around him so hard, he didn't think he'd be able to get back out.

Your wet hands clung to his broad shoulders, glimmered with beads of the pool water from his movements.

Feeling your hips chase his as the pain faded back to pleasure, you knew you were close, especially considering how little time you had between orgasming.

His stamina impressed you honestly, given how he'd been working all day yet still had enough energy to fuck you like this.

A broken whimper fell from his pink lips, words getting lost in his throat even though he had no idea what he wanted to say in this moment.

He was practically intoxicated by the way you made him feel, cursing himself internally for pushing away so many times.

He panted your name out loud, teeth grazing your neck as his head hung in the space provided, feeling weak all of a sudden, “I'm close.”

“Then don't stop,” you huffed back, caressing his pretty face as he chased his high, the water rocking with his movements as he felt his stomach tighten, spurts of his sticky release barely having enough time to coat you before he pulled out, fisting himself in a failed attempt to catch his release.

“Aww, fuck... fuckkk,” he groaned, watching the strings of his cum slip past his fingers and into the water, some of it hitting your legs.

Of course he would've preferred to finish inside you, but he thought it'd be respectful to at least pull out.

You held him close with your thighs around him, giggling a bit at the way he struggled to contain himself.

“You really should've just came inside me, y’know,”you said, feeling a throb in your core after everything.

“Very funny,” was all he said before pulling up his swim trucks and splashing a bit of water on you.

It was interesting seeing how Sungchan could go from hot to playful in a matter of seconds with you.

After everything that'd just happened, the poor guy wasn't at all in the mood to re-clean the pool thanks to the mess you two just made.

So instead, he offered a hand to help you up before carrying you out of the pool, knowing that it wouldn't be easy for you to walk with your legs still shaking.

Neither of you knew how much time you had left til Anton and Hazel came back, but one thing for sure was that you and Sungchan would keep playing this game for a lot longer than planned.

You said so yourself... you'd just have to be more sneaky about it.

⚡︎ Special thanks to @wonbinisbabygurl for requesting this piece ~ (love you princess!!!)

⚡︎ Had to repost this story because the first time around, I wasn't satisfied with the engagement I received ;-; (only 14 notes in 24 hours), so hopefully people see this in the tags this time!!

⚡︎ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ) @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @antonartic

⚡︎ Feel free to also check out my RIIZE masterlist

[charlotteswriting]

Hi Mod Kaede! I hope your having a great day or evening Can I request shuichi, himiko, ryoma, Gundam, and chihiro with an s/o who is the ultimate Artist and they (somehow) go through their s/o sketch book to see multiple drawings of them because the s/o is very inspired by them please?

This was in my inbox for ages I feel so bad TT but this requests inspires me to write. Whoever you are, anon, I LOVE YOU! (Not writing for Ryoma cuz his personality is hard and chihiro atm cuz i couldn't think of anything for him)

(This cg is so beautiful, I had to use it-)

Shuichi Saihara

It wasn't rare for Shuichi to do his detective work around you. He wasn't distracted by you being there, if anything your mere presence comforted him and motivated him to keep it up.

He takes random moments to turn his head and observe you and you're sitting there, focused on what you're drawing, he'd look at you then go back to his work again

When he finally took a break he went to the kitchen to get himself some coffee and he returned with your favorite drink

When he handed it to you he didn't miss how you immediately covered up your sketchbook as soon as he came near

He raised an eyebrow but quickly came back to reality as you muttered out a "Thank you!"

In following days he had noticed how cautious you were around him whenever you were drawing. He tried to snuggle up to you only to take a look at your sketchbook but you threw it away with no hesitation and he was CONFUSED

What're you hiding and why do you not want him to see 🙁

Still he didn't bring it up hhh

When he came home from work he saw you in the living room. He wanted to be in your arms as soon as possible but then again he had to change so he went to bedroom

While changing into more comfortable clothes, he noticed a book on the bed.

It took him some time to realise that wasn't one of his books that he reads at nights. That was??? your sketchbook??????

He was fighting himself mentally. It doesn't matter if he's been staring at the ceiling thinking about what you were hiding in that drawing book of yours, he mustn't invade your privacy.

He shouldn't. He shouldn't. He shouldn't-

Nvm

He passed through the pages, looking for something s u s p i c i o u s just what was in your sketchbook that you tried to hide so desperately?

Omg-

He froze on the spot as he stared at that perfectly drawn picture of him- Wait, there's more-

"Shuichi, what's taking you so long?"

He let out a little squeak as he closed his mouth, "N-nothing, sweetheart,"

He placed the book back carefully as the guilt was eating him out. What was he expecting? He was overthinking while you were just admiring him-

He shook his head and started thinking of ways to take that blush off his face as he walked downstairs.

day1 of trying to write for shuichi without simping: fAiLed

Himiko Yumeno

(oMg she is requested!!!!!🥰)

Himiko,,, isn't great at art

She watches art tutorials all the time but the best she can do is a stickman 💀 (i swear this isnt himiko slander-)

And seeing your GODLY art, teach her your ways!

Even your messy sketches looked so good

You're everything Himiko wants to be. You're goals.

And when you said you'd help her improve her art she was over the moon!

But still,,, she wanted to impress you in her ways! Still she was desperate for your help so she accepted </3

You didn't expect her to be so serious about it but Himiko was taking your tutorings WHOLEHEARTLY.

She wanted to be worth of your efforts, after all

Himiko asked your opinion on her art, but instead of giving advice you praised her art

She blushed but that's not what she wanted to hear! So with a pout, she left

Gundham Tanaka

I'd be inspired by him too, always with devas by his side, drawing him would be fun

You're usually interested in stuff he has to say but sometimes you just look at him deeply then say nothing and return to the book that is resting on your lap

What could it be that makes you stop giving him attention?

He's asked you of it multiple times but you just say you are sketching to relax

And you don't let him see like you're plotting sometimes

He can't contain the curiosity

Dodging every question of his, he makes one of his devas of destruction steal your sketchbook while you're asleep

He feels guilt to his bones but he's consumed by his desire to see

And when he opens it he sees multiple drawings of himself, his face, outfits and even devas!

At the bottom of the pages he sees little doodles of you which makes him smile warmly

He is just sad why didn't you show him earlier? After he apologizes to you for looking at your stuff without your permission (and maybe stealing it) he's going to offer modeling for you