Tumgik
#Pre-Wedding Tips
shaadiwish · 2 years
Text
Check Out Everything You Need To Do In The Week Leading Up To Your Wedding Day! For More Such Trends And Ideas, Stay Tuned With ShaadiWish.
1 note · View note
sceneloc8 · 7 days
Text
Top photoshoot and video shooting location in Andheri
Andheri sparks the creativity of photographers, videographers, and people who make content. This lively neighbourhood has a wide range of places where you can make your ideas come to life, whether you want to capture timeless pre-wedding moments, film electrifying dance scenes, or make interesting vlogs.
A Stage for Making Different Kinds of Content:
Andheri’s charm comes from its different kinds of energy. You could put up modern skyscrapers next to busy street markets or use a quiet park as the background for a romantic pre-wedding photoshoot. This variety lets you make your own unique content, like a classic video to launch a new product or a funny travel vlog that shows off the neighborhood’s hidden gems.
Some tips for your shoot in Andheri:
Plan Your Shoot: Plan your shoot by thinking about things like the time of day, the amount of natural light that will be available, and any crowds that might be there. Portraits can look great in the warm colours of the evening, and building details look great under clear skies.
Take in the spirit of the area: Andheri is a unique mix of different cultures and energies. Take unplanned shots that show off the area’s personality or plan scenes that fit in with the vibe.
Permits and Permissions: Find out what permits you need to film or take pictures in certain places, especially on private property, and get them.
What Makes Andheri Great?
A Mix of Old and New: Andheri has a unique mix of modern buildings, street art, and historical sites that can be used as backgrounds for your project.
Accessibility: Andheri is easy to get to for your shoot because it is well-connected by public transportation.
Hidden Gems: Get off the beaten path and find unique places that will give your content a unique touch.
#AndheriShoots #MumbaiContentCreators #SceneLoc8 #PreWeddingShootLocations #FilmingLocations
Andheri, Andheri photoshoot locations, Andheri video shooting locations, Content Creation, film shooting, Hidden Gems, Mumbai, Photography, Scene Locate, SceneLoc8
Follow Our Whatsapp Channel:
@SceneLoc8 India
@SceneLoc8 Mumbai
#Andheri sparks the creativity of photographers#videographers#and people who make content. This lively neighbourhood has a wide range of places where you can make your ideas come to life#whether you want to capture timeless pre-wedding moments#film electrifying dance scenes#or make interesting vlogs.#A Stage for Making Different Kinds of Content:#Andheri’s charm comes from its different kinds of energy. You could put up modern skyscrapers next to busy street markets or use a quiet pa#like a classic video to launch a new product or a funny travel vlog that shows off the neighborhood’s hidden gems.#Some tips for your shoot in Andheri:#Plan Your Shoot: Plan your shoot by thinking about things like the time of day#the amount of natural light that will be available#and any crowds that might be there. Portraits can look great in the warm colours of the evening#and building details look great under clear skies.#Take in the spirit of the area: Andheri is a unique mix of different cultures and energies. Take unplanned shots that show off the area’s p#Permits and Permissions: Find out what permits you need to film or take pictures in certain places#especially on private property#and get them.#What Makes Andheri Great?#A Mix of Old and New: Andheri has a unique mix of modern buildings#street art#and historical sites that can be used as backgrounds for your project.#Accessibility: Andheri is easy to get to for your shoot because it is well-connected by public transportation.#Hidden Gems: Get off the beaten path and find unique places that will give your content a unique touch.#AndheriShoots#MumbaiContentCreators#SceneLoc8#PreWeddingShootLocations#FilmingLocations#Andheri
0 notes
studiocapturelife · 23 days
Text
Indoor Pre-Wedding Shoot Ideas to Make You Stand Out
Tumblr media
Pre-wedding photoshoots have become an indispensable part of the wedding journey, capturing the essence of love, anticipation, and joy before the big day. 
While outdoor locations offer picturesque landscapes and natural beauty, indoor shoots provide a canvas for creativity and intimacy. 
If you're considering an indoor pre-wedding shoot, here are some unique ideas to turn your moments into timeless memories. 
If you're looking for someone who can bring these ideas to life, consider reaching out to Studio Capture Life for an unforgettable experience.
Vintage Romance in an Old Library
Dive into the pages of history by choosing an old library as your backdrop. The vintage charm of weathered books, dim lighting, and wooden shelves creates an intimate atmosphere perfect for capturing timeless romance. Snuggle up between bookshelves, exchange stolen glances over dusty tomes, and let the quiet ambiance add a touch of nostalgia to your shoot.
Artistic Expression in an Art Gallery
Showcase your love in the midst of artistic masterpieces by opting for an art gallery setting. The vibrant colors, striking sculptures, and captivating artwork will add depth and sophistication to your photos. Play with perspectives, mimic famous poses, and let the creativity of the space reflect the uniqueness of your relationship.
Culinary Delights in a Cozy Kitchen
They say the way to a person's heart is through their stomach, so why not capture your love amidst the aroma of freshly baked treats? Choose a cozy kitchen as your setting and indulge in a culinary-themed shoot. From flour fights to shared cooking moments, let the warmth of the kitchen and the sweetness of your love take center stage.
Whimsical Wonderland in a Theme Park
Relive your childhood fantasies by opting for a pre-wedding shoot in a theme park. The colorful rides, vibrant stalls, and bustling crowds create a whimsical backdrop for capturing carefree moments and playful gestures. Hold hands on the Ferris wheel, steal kisses under fairy lights, and let the magic of the park translate into enchanting photographs.
Minimalist Elegance in a Contemporary Loft
Embrace the beauty of simplicity by choosing a contemporary loft as your setting. The clean lines, open spaces, and minimalist décor provide a canvas for highlighting the purity of your love. Opt for neutral tones, sleek furniture, and soft lighting to create an ambiance of understated elegance that allows your connection to shine through.
Timeless Romance in a Historic Mansion
Step into a bygone era by selecting a historic mansion for your pre-wedding shoot. The grandeur of ornate architecture, sweeping staircases, and lush gardens sets the stage for a fairytale romance. Dress in period-inspired attire, wander through opulent halls hand in hand, and let the timeless beauty of the mansion frame your love story in grandeur.
Cosmic Connection in a Planetarium
Explore the depths of your connection amidst the stars by opting for a pre-wedding shoot in a planetarium. The ethereal glow of celestial bodies, futuristic exhibits, and dimly lit domes create a romantic setting straight out of a sci-fi romance. Snuggle up under the night sky, gaze at constellations, and let the vastness of the universe mirror the depth of your love.
Urban Adventure in a Rooftop Bar
Elevate your pre-wedding shoot – both literally and figuratively – by choosing a rooftop bar as your setting. The panoramic views, sleek skyline, and urban vibes create a dynamic backdrop for capturing modern romance. Sip cocktails at sunset, dance under the stars, and let the cityscape become a metaphor for the journey you're about to embark on together.
Conclusion
Forget the pressure of trendy backdrops and staged poses. The latest trend in indoor pre-wedding shoots isn't about aesthetics, it's about capturing the essence of your love story.
Embrace the "real" you, showcase your passions, and let your personalities shine. These photos won't just be beautiful keepsakes - they'll be a window into the unique bond that makes you a couple. 
So ditch the clichés and focus on creating moments that truly reflect the magic of your love.
For expert photography services that breathe life into your moments, trust Studio Capture Life to turn your dreams into reality. Contact us today!
0 notes
nanaslutt · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
welcome to my smau list!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა
౨ৎ feel free to send an ask to my inbox if u have an idea for a smau (no suggestive prompts for under 18 characters) ౨ৎ
jjk smaus
✿ asking jjk men if you can hold their 🍆 while they pee
✿ showing the jjk men ur new piercings
✿ asking the jjk men if you can peg them
✿ changing “babe” to autocorrect to “whore” in their phone
✿ “shes busy rn”
✿ leaving without telling the jjk guys
✿ “he’s busy rn”
✿ getting ur nails the color of their tip
✿ forbidden relationships
✿ drawing a heart with their tip
✿ baby fever
✿ drunk texting the jjk men
✿ jjk men having a wet dream about you
✿ asking them for a hand pic
✿ jjk mean reacting to their contact name
✿ asking jjk characters what their fav sex act is
✿ telling the jjk guys you spent $200 on tire air
✿ “wrong person” nudes prank
✿ jjk characters reactions to you getting harassed/ hit in
✿ jjk characters finding out you got injured
✿ ass or tits
✿ giving them suprise flowers
✿ asking the jjk characters to take your virginity
✿ telling the jjk characters you want to get them pregnant
✿ getting flowers from someone else and thinking it was from them
✿ getting jealous of you hanging out with someone else
✿ stealing your panties
✿ cuddles after sex
✿ innapropreate package mixup
✿ wax my 😽
✿ sending them porn you wanna recreate
✿ when they drunk text you
✿ them asking you on a date for the first time
✿ sending nudes in the middle of an argument
✿ getting a necklace with their initial
✿ being a woman/man for a day question
✿ controlling your bluetooth vibe
✿ when you leave a kiss mark on them
✿ asking you to stay the night for the first time
✿ the call ending after you fall
✿ “they just left you can come over now”
✿“if i gave you a pass to call me a bitch how would you use it”
✿ “i didn’t finish last night“ prank
✿“i got arrested”
✿ when they find ur smut
✿ editing them to look bad in a photo
✿ accidentally sending them nudes (pre relationship)
✿ the jjk characters sending you gym pics
✿ getting scared watching a scary movie
✿ finding out they punched ur stuffed animals
✿ when they see you in someone else’s jacket
✿ asking them their fav pet name is in bed
✿ when you start your period unprepared
✿ when you see them with another girls belongings
✿ asking them if they like having sex with you
✿ asking them for happy trail pics
✿ when they ask for nudes and you send an unsuggestive pic
✿ asking them if they have a crush on you
✿ when they find ur toy
✿ anxious before ur wedding
✿ taking pics of you when you fall asleep
✿ asking them for a whimper audio
✿ when they cheat on you
✿ having a dream they cheated on you
✿ when they get hit on/harassed
✿ the morning after ur first time having sex
✿ accidentally saying i love you for the first time before ending the call
✿ asking them if they only like you for sex
✿ offering them head to relax them
✿ asking them to kill a spider for you
✿ their reactions to a sexy picture you posted
✿ pregnancy scary
✿ ”sex has been boring” prank
✿ their card declined prank
✿ getting lost in public
✿ asking them if you can stack donuts on it
✿ asking them to pick out a new toy for you
✿ waking up in their body
✿ them reacting to you crying over a dumb video
✿ catching them masturbating
✿ getting a noise complaint
✿ when they catch you masturbating
✿ when they catch you singing
✿ finding a hair that isn’t urs
✿ telling them their nut tastes bad
✿ trying anal
✿ comforting you when you’re burnt out
✿ when they take an aphrodisiac
✿ asking them to find ur 😽 in a lineup
✿ asking them how much money they have
✿ asking about a threesome
✿ what’s their sexual fantasy?
✿ asking them if they’ll put it in soft
✿ slapping their ass and running away
✿ asking them for their friends number
✿ selling their stuff online prank
✿ asking if they’d get a genital piercing
5K notes · View notes
eclatwedding · 10 months
Text
A destination wedding’s precious moments deserve to be captured impeccably. When choosing a wedding photographer, look for professionals who specialize in destination weddings and have experience in capturing various cultural ceremonies. For instance, if you plan a wedding in Mumbai or Hyderabad, search specifically for “wedding photographer in Mumbai” or “wedding photographer in Hyderabad.” You can check their portfolios on Instagram to ensure their style aligns with your vision. If you feel it’s a perfect match, you can contact them and take the conversation further.
0 notes
wishtreeweddings · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
In the verdant ambiance of South India's Chakolas Pavilion Centre, a young Malayali boy Nikhil and his Northern bride-to-be Swati were eagerly preparing for their upcoming wedding. The couple's families had come together to perform the traditional Madhuramveppu ceremony, a joyous celebration of love and sweetness that would symbolize the start of their journey together.
0 notes
Text
How To Make Sure You Get One of a kind and Engaging Pictures For Your Big Day?
Photography is essential to your wedding day, and these pictures will assist you with recalling the day. It is vital to research and picks the best Tulum wedding photographer you feel comfortable with and who will give you the outcomes you are searching for. Make certain to discuss your vision for your big day with them, so they can capture the recollections precisely as you want them!
0 notes
satoruhour · 9 months
Note
On honeymoon with geto..and while you’ve had sex before, it’s the first time you two do it unprotected. His face lights up when you tell him to do it without a condom and breeding kink goes BRRRRRRRR
a/n: “Newlyweds gojo and reader having sweet romantic nasty dirty disgusting shameless honeymoon sex PLEEK” combining requests since theyre the same premise! anons u two r the biggest brained mfers and bc u all voted so nicely and promptly this is my lil present :3
wc: about 1k+ for each drabble
warnings: SEPARATE drabbles, fem!reader, soft dom!geto that turns filthy at the mention of no condoms lol, unprotected sex, fingering, clit stimulation, creampie / breeding kink, sorta soft dom!gojo but not really established, almost public sex and multiple rounds for gojo, n*sfw under the cut
Tumblr media
✶ GETO
the first breath of fresh air is already so pleasant and different from japan, but you’re distracted again by the shiny band upon your finger, staring at it with a small smile. you had your eyes glued on the sterling silver for the whole flight here, only breaking out of your daze when suguru approaches with your collected luggages, pressing a kiss to your temple. “shall we go?” you can’t help but mumble a soft ‘i love you’ before you peck his lips, the coldness of his matching ring on your skin reminding you of your newly forged bond.
geto makes sure you feel its coldness later on your thigh, hand holding down your legs firmly when he first inserts both fingers, cunt easily sucking him in right until you feel the chill of the wedding ring. he’s rewarded with your sweet moans, s’thick and s’good leaving your lips softly while he leaves your clit untouched. it’s throbbing, and yet he tortures you more when he removes his fingers.
“suguru!”
“what?” he grins, a sick grin as he starts to remove his pants and admires the way your pussy just asks for his dick. “want ya to cum on my cock.”
“yeah, but—” you huff, although you weren’t opposed, before you hear the familiar crinkle of the condom packet and you’re sitting up to hold his hands back. now, his what was truly confused, and you bit your lip, wondering if this was really the route you wanted to go down.
you’ve always loved sex with suguru; it was phenomenal always, except the feeling of the rubber in you. it was necessary, you knew, but now that you’re bound by vows and your endless love, you’d think that . .
“can we not use it today, sugu?”
geto didn’t think he heard you correctly, and he’s asked you to repeat it even when you’ve seized the packet and threw it to the side, a hand on his hardened cock that only responds to you — you swear you feel more pre-cum on your thumb when you say it for the third time.
“are you sure, baby?” geto asks softly, hovering over you with his large stature and it’s just like the first time you were intimate with each other. caring and gentle as he always is, “we don’t have to do away with it just cause we’re married now, (y/n).”
you give him a small reassuring smile. “i’m sure, suguru.”
and he proceeds to ask you for two more times before your legs are carried up. surprised, you watch as he drags his tip along your folds, eyes darkening when he watches his pre-cum mix with your juices. and now when he’s given permission to fuck you raw? he can hardly keep his heart rate down.
“hear that, baby?” geto moans, keeping his eyes locked in yours, making you hear just how wet you were and you nod, wanting to have his hand in yours. there’s a mixture of your moans when he first pushes in, with your pussy clenching around him. a loud whine leaves your throat as your hands interlock.
“s-su! feels so—!” you gasp when he bottoms out, a feeling entirely different from the usual — you swear you can feel his cockhead and the veins along his length, and geto knows the same. your gummy walls that hug him, your warmth.
“shiitt . . god, you feel so fuckin’ good—” he grunts out, leaning forward to capture your lips, sighing when he does a light thrust and the drag of your cunt is just too good and he already feels his high approaching. “just so perfect in this pussy— t-thank you, darling.”
geto swears he goes in and out of consciousness when his hips start to move, focused solely on your hand on his cheek and the squeeze of your hand in his, alongside those hooded, drunken eyes of yours and the whimpers leaving your mouth.
“suguru— s’big!” you pant against his lips and the squelch of your pussy is only amplified by how swiftly he rails into you, driven by the raw feeling of your cunt.
“y’can take it, can’t ya?” geto hums, pressing one last kiss against your lips and comes off of you, grabbing your legs and pushing. they’re right up to your chest and suguru reaches so deep, you squeal in surprise. “good girl, takin’ me so damn well.”
you let him use your body, now hanging onto the headboard of the hotel room as his hips move relentlessly into your dripping cunt. you can see your juices splay everywhere from how wet you were and the rough movement of his hips don’t help, “g’na cum, su—”
“that so?” he mumbles, and angles his hips to hit that spot and your head digs into the pillow. although, geto doesn’t like that, “c’mon baby, watch me as i breed you.”
you whine at his choice of words, opening your eyes to see your newly wedded husband look divine. his hair falls all over his face and his lips are parted in little pants, sweat lining his torso and face but his honeyed eyes only look at you.
the way geto’s hips drive into you is carnal, feeling your ass ripple with his thrust to the hilt and the sounds that leave his lips sound like heaven, a mix between whines and moans — “look at how much cum i have f’r you—”
and for the both of you it comes so quickly you don’t have time to prepare for the visions of white; you can feel as geto cums deep in you, feeling each spurt of cum fill you up and you think you’d never want to go back to condoms ever again. geto’s head is thrown back when he shoots his load, hips bucking so much as you cum at the same time, spasming on his cock that the room is full of your lewd sounds.
geto doesn’t look at you when he removes his cock silently, watching as his tip continues to push out globs of semen while your cunt is painted white. it’s clear he’s drunk on it, looking toward you finally with a small smile. the final clench your pussy does is the last straw for him, pushing out his cum that drips down to the sheets and he’s hard again.
“you don’t know what you just unlocked in me, baby,” geto laughs breathlessly, slapping his length along your folds with obscene noises, “but it’ll definitely end in me filling you up with s’much cum, yeah?”
you giggle, wiggling your hips until he’s in you again. hot breath against your ankle and a scrunch in his expression — your pussy’s just too good.
“yeah, i’d love that, sugu. give me all your cum.”
Tumblr media
✶ GOJO
your happiness was unmatched running down the aisle, interrupted by the smooth sweep of gojo’s arms under your neck and knees in a princess carry, moving your body up and down like you just scored the final goal of a game — except you did. you’ve captured satoru’s heart and his fourth finger, smiling with glossy eyes as he leans in to kiss you. “you cryin’, baby?” the audacity to ask that when his nose is red too — you only shake your head, hearing the camera click and your relatives cheer.
that sweet sentiment is changed later after your wedding dinner when he hasn’t even got you past the front door until he has you against the wardrobe, dinner gown and panties swiped to the side and you desperately trying not to overturn the hotel kettle.
“can’t keep me from this pussy for long, baby.” gojo’s stamina is exceptional, you were made aware of this from the first time you got into bed with him, and you still weren’t exactly used to it. from here, you only wish to memorise the sight of gojo on his knees and the chill of his wedding ring on your thigh. “looked so delicious in this dress—”
“s-satoru, we haven’t even closed the door yet—!” he hums, skillfully using his free hand to do it and he continues his assault on your pussy. you have one leg propped up on the vanity table, leaking so much juices just from having his hand on your thigh.
it’s no different later that gojo presses kisses on your neck, making you watch yourself in the vanity mirror. your cunt’s already so used to his heavy, thick cock, and yet it still reaches so deep in you, kissing your cervix. there’s a ring of white around the base of his cock from how much he’s cummed in you, pussy gushing so much around his length that he has no problem moving in and out of you.
“look at how beautiful you are, sweets,” he whispers along your skin while you tighten around him, body lined up with yours while his hips continue to ram into you. you can’t even fathom what round exactly this is as his hands knead at your lower back, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes from just how good his cock was hitting your spots. a hand to your clit is enough to get you cumming for the nth time that night, tongue lolling out in the mirror. “you cryin’?”
you whine and nod softly, head dropping from the sudden soreness and exhaustion on a particular thrust, and your husband coos, “went too hard on you, did i?”
gojo places one more peck to your neck and slips out of you, making you choke on a moan as your entrance clenches around air and you’re off the ground like you were at the front of the church. he simply laughs at your fucked out form, knowing nevertheless you loved it when you’re asking him to hurry up. and so he brings you atop him, letting you move your hips until he’s in you and you’re whining into his neck.
“’toru . .”
“what is it, mrs. gojo?”
you stifle a laugh at that, lifting your body tiredly. even after being fucked for four rounds (he counted), you still look as lovely as you did as you first appeared at the start of the aisle, when you were crying your eyes out saying your vows, when you grinned during your first dance.
“jus’ tired baby, help me, pleasee?” the little pout you do is too cute not to resist that it gets his heart tightening up and his dick jumping. 
“hang on, sweet girl, i got ya.” the first thrust up into you is euphoric, skin so sticky from the cum before that you’re sure there’s strings of white connecting your pelvis to his. the feeling of your clit brushing up against his pubes has you moaning into thin air and your hips move back on him to get more friction, “that alright?”
“mhm . .” you mumble, “s’good—”
gojo only lets out a little chuckle, letting you tangle your hands in his hair as he plants his feet down into the mattress and slams into your dripping cunt. he groans softly at the feel of your walls, still so warm and tight, muttering soft praises while your limp body moves along with his rough ministrations.
“oh— my g-god . .” you mewl out when he latches his lips onto your tits, sucking and swirling his tongue and your back arches in his arms; you simply can’t hold yourself up from the overstimulation, falling forward into his waiting arms. “s-sorry, ’toru.”
“what’re you apologisin’ for?” gojo swear when he feels you clamp down, cock twitching and you both know he’s about to cum, “my pretty girl doesn’t need to be saying sorry . . fuck—”
satoru’s his lips meet yours messily and his thrusts turn weak and sloppy while he ruts mindlessly into you with the lewd pap! pap! pap! sounds of his balls against your ass. he’s primal with his hips, with muffled moans onto your lips. there’s drool dripping from the corners of your mouths as he spills into you shamelessly, so much cum spilling from your connected bodies that you reach your climax too, body trembling from the intense feeling.
“’toru—! s-so much cum, haah . .” it’s so hot, entirely sure your womb is full of his previous loads, your mixed juices coating his still hard dick and you might just tap out, but when you feel his cum dribble out of you and down his cock, you’re already wishing for more. you merely reach for the cup of water and gulp down a large amount and your lover only watches you, amused.
“n-need more, satoru . .” you whisper, sitting up and trailing a hand down his body, making sure he can see the shimmer of the expensive ring he bought for you — it wouldn’t rust, either, he told you. eyes fluttering close, you remove yourself from him completely and lie back on the king-sized he insisted on booking, and spread your folds to show him just how needy your cunt still was.
there’s a small moan that escapes gojo’s mouth when you do that, already hovering over you with his heavy cock resting along your pussy, “give me more, baby.”
“oh, when my good girl asks so nicely,” satoru slyly grins, swallowing your whines with a sloppy kiss, “’course i have to give it to her.”
Tumblr media
tagging my loves @hyomagiri @jabamin @shotorus @utahimeow @satohruu @na-t0 @lvlybee @slttygeto @crysugu @suguruplsr ❀
4K notes · View notes
newsmagnifysworld · 1 year
Text
Bridal Makeup: How To Eliminate Patchiness During Winters?
Like summers, winters can even cake up your bridal makeup if it is not done properly or if you have chosen the wrong products. Here’s how you can avoid patchiness.
Tumblr media
Our wedding is a very special event for us. Our prime focus on “D-Day” is to look beautiful and flawless. However, your bridal makeup can go patchy if proper techniques, products, and product hierarchy have not been followed. This is the same for the makeup artists doing your wedding makeup or if you prefer to do your wedding makeup. This article will focus on makeup tips for wedding mentioning how to not cake up your bridal makeup during the winter. If you are looking for makeup tips for beginners, this article will help.
Tips To Avoid Patchy Bridal Makeup During Winter Season
You must incorporate proper products, tools, techniques, and hierarchy based on the season you are marrying. This will ensure your bridal makeup is flawless, long-lasting, and not cakey. For instance, you might prefer to wear matte makeup with glitter eyes during the summer. If you choose the same thing for winter, you will end up having cakey makeup or itchy skin. That said, a more glowy and hydrating makeup should be your choice. Additionally, you will also have to aim for makeup with longer staying power besides following a pre-makeup routine. 
Below are some important makeup tips for wedding. These also work as the best makeup tips for beginners.
Have A Clean Canvas
To not cake up your wedding makeup, it is absolutely necessary to have a clean face before starting makeup. This includes removing the facial hair without nicks and cuts. Scrubbing is necessary to discard dead skin cells from the face and neck. In addition to this, a nice hydrating face wash is a must. Follow this up with a hydrating toner. This will ensure that the makeup sits on the face flawlessly. These steps are the most important parts of the pre-makeup routine.
Serums & Facial Oils
Serums and facial oils keep your skin hydrated and plump. Thus, you will have to prep your skin nicely with a serum or facial oil through a pre-makeup routine. You can either go for hydrating serums and light facial oils (very dry and dry skin) or facial essence and top it off with a facial oil. Apply thick moisturizer if you have very dry skin or dry skin, else go for a light moisturizer (oily and combination skin). This prep-up step makes sure you achieve natural wedding makeup.
Sunscreen Is A Must!
Whether you are a bride yourself or preparing a bride for her day, or evening event, you have to apply sunscreen with a high SPF content of 50 to 60 with PA+++ and UVA, UVB protection. It is obvious during the day you would need it. Why do you need sunscreen at all? Well, there will be photographers clicking your photos and that said you will be exposed to high-intensity white light that can damage your skin. Makeup tips and secrets never exclude the usage of sunscreen for its importance. Check out our beauty section for the best sunscreens for different skin types.
Go For Cream Products
The best thing that will keep the makeup glowing is using a Silicone free hydrating primer. A foundation with a water base will provide the perfect hydrating and glowing base. Never overdo foundations or mix oil-based products with water-based products. Doing this will provide flawless and natural wedding makeup. Also, make sure to color correct so that your face does not look ashy and gray. Blend well until it feels like skin. 
When using eyeshadows, make sure to prime the eyes, apply proper highlighting concealer, and blend well before applying it. For blushes, apply cream blushes and cream highlighter. You can use a light-setting powder. However, keep that for the last step before the final makeup fixer. Dab well. Get the latest makeup tips for your wedding.
For lips, scrub the lips and apply a nice lip balm. Do not use lip glosses or lipsticks that transfer. Else, it will mess up the makeup. Use a lip liner so that the lipstick does not barge from the edges and ruin your makeup.
Use Makeup Fixers In Between
Before starting with primer apply a little amount of makeup fixer and dab well. Do this after every step. This will ensure the base is mixed well, blending will become easier, and will help to retain the makeup for a long time. This also makes sure you achieve natural wedding makeup. It is kind of like making the makeup waterproof yet glowing. This is one of the best makeup tips and secrets coming directly from certified makeup artists.
These are the most important bridal makeup tips for the winter season. However, some points will definitely change with the change of season and skin type of the bride. If you seem to like the best tips for wedding makeup and want to know more makeup tips for wedding and other tricks, follow us at https://www.newsmagnify.com/category/lifestyle/beauty/.
News Magnify is a dedicated best online news website. Besides providing the latest lifestyle news,  and latest fashion trends, the website provides beauty tips and secrets for skin, hair, and more. Additionally, the news portal includes content from other categories such as Stocks, Business, Investing Travel, Entertainment, Technology, etc.
Have a makeup tip to share for Christmas and other occasions? Head on to our News Magnify online beauty news website and share with us your favourite makeup tips and secrets. Follow me on Facebook or Instagram. Join News Magnify!
0 notes
jojissalsa · 7 months
Text
husband!leon drabble
hear me out, cause i have an idea :3 (yes this is a drabble but also kinda long...)
cw: housewife kink, very slight condescension, praise, oral, breeding kink, ya get the gist. (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)
i cannot get my mind off husband!leon, like... at all, i feel like he'd love to pamper you. you need your hair trimmed? when and where. going somewhere special? he'll immediately take you shopping. his favorite is when you wanna get your nails done, he'll just hand you that sleek black credit card. i mean, it's not like he doesn't have the money. he has to deal with the worst horrors this shitty world could conjure up, so all he wants at the end of the day is to see your pretty smile.
it's all he can think about at work. everyone notices how distracted he seems, constantly checking his phone for possible pictures or any kind of update. he's so glad he doesn't have much work to do that day, so he can be home before you. and when you finally unlock the door he has to stop himself from running to you like an excited dog happy to see his owner.
and you know he's excited, as much as he tries to hide it as you walk over to the couch where he's sitting, plopping down right next to him and nuzzling into his side. "you like 'em?" you hold out your hand, a smug smirk on your face as he takes your hand. "it's pretty.." he whispers in awe, a loving expression on your face. usually he's the type to wanna lay on your chest, having your nails graze his scalp so he can finally relax. he knows you love it too, like he's a big lap dog you can watch movies with.
he feels a lil different tonight though, maybe he's just pent up, but all he can think about is your pretty, delicate hand wrapped around his cock, your lipstick smeared around your mouth and making rings on the length of his cock. and you know he's thinking about something, because he moves his hand up yours before grabbing your wrist and pressing your palm against his cock.
"feel that? that's what you do to me, so damn sweet. you and that needy cunt is all i can think about. c'mere, wanna see those pretty hands jerk me off." you don't waste any time moving your head into his lap as he pulls down his sweats, your hands finding their place at the base of his cock and cupping his balls, your tongue already lapping at his tip, savoring the taste of his pre-cum. he looks so fucking hot like this, legs spread, arm resting on the back of the couch while his hand moves down your back and under your leggings, determined to feel more of you. you're always such a good girl when you sink your mouth lower on his cock, tip hitting the back of your throat which makes his hips buck and his head tilt back as he groans.
"i got so lucky, pretty wife that knows how to suck dick. so eager for me to touch you, huh? need my fingers to fill up that tight pussy, don't you, honey? can't answer with a mouthful of cock, can you?" leon can never help himself, he has to be a little smug, because he landed such a hot piece of ass and he's more than confident about you belonging to him completely. how you stop everything you're doing to please him. how can he not pay back the favor? he pulls your leggings down to your thighs along with your panties, coating his fingers in your slick before slipping his fingers inside your welcoming pussy. you clench around his thick fingers when you feel the cold metal of his wedding band, and it only makes him smile wider.
like i said, he really does love to pamper you. make you feel pretty all the time, because you are. you may not think you are all the time, but he sure as shit does. pretty enough to carry his baby, too. "such a pretty girl, you'd look even more beautiful with my baby inside you." you whimper around his cock, pulling your head up to stroke him so you can catch your breath. "like that one, hmm? you always walk around looking like a fucking milf, so damn sexy with those tight jeans and cute heels i buy for you." you knew he was a family man, wanted at least two kids, but damn he did not have to make the idea sound that fucking hot.
and you let him, he could give you a whole bloodline and you'd do it with a smile. letting him fuck his huge load of cum into your tight cunt, those pretty nails digging into his back as your legs keep him pumping his cum inside you. "atta girl, can't wait to see that pregnancy test. gonna keep you here and take good care of you, promise." he lets you come back down to reality as he leans up, getting a good view of your blissed out smile, humming contently as you look up at him. "you won't have to lift a single finger with me around, trust me."
2K notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 2 months
Text
Title: fae love
Fandom: none
Characters: original character (orc), reader
Fic type: nsfw, story
Pairings: orc x male reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, nsfw, smut, reader has some description, boy pussy term used, reader is a fae, chaotic reader
Notes: I thought I posted this but I didn't, this is super indulgent, and yeah. Normally this would go through Patreon first but I'm feeling kind
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
(name) smiled as he was carried by the giant orc that was his mate, a towering ten feet tall to (name) 's five feet four inches, the pretty fae kissing the orc's olive cheek sweetly as they went back to their farm, a sweet little farm in the woods outside of town "I told you no more fires in non agreed fireplaces" he said gruffly to (name) who just smiled "you're the one who chose to become fated mates with me~"
The Orc sighed, looking at the gold ring on (name) 's finger and the wedding necklace, indeed he chose (name) for marriage, he did love his chaotic husband.
(Name) often treated his husband like a jungle gym, the tiny fae usually resting on his shoulder as he went about things and used his magic for various tasks "My love, please... You're awful at cooking" he swatted (name)s hand away when (name) tried to help by adding flower petals to the stew "but they make the stew look magical ~!" Was (name) 's reasoning as he watched the other stir the rabbit and vegetable soup "I added extra (vegetable), magical enough?" The orc gently kissed the other calf, tusks grazing (name) 's flesh, and (name) giggled "You romantic~"
(Name) always sat in his husband's lap when they ate and spoke about their days, (name) in the woods building little homes for the mouse village as they wanted to expand--- thankfully their building supplies were primarily popsicle sticks, the Orc gladly letting his love do that, especially since the mouse folk traded for mushrooms and herbs they find, it also kept (name) from causing mischief amongst the fae wilds, the two living outside the fae wild portal ring and often seeing passerbys that (name) would prank (read: setting their shoes on fire).
It was always a serene affair.
Well for (name).
When bedtime came, (name) carefully took off his jewelry as did his husband, removing any makeup for the night against the candlelight "Oh..." (Name) whispered as he felt his love's large hards easily spread his legs, rubbing the inside of his thighs "been energetic these days, causing problems..." The orc said as (name) leaned into his broad chest and felt the other large cock against his ass "Have no output for this energy..." (Name) said back breathlessly as he already imagined the sweet stretch of the other cock "need something... Big to help me relax" he cooed and grinned impishly when his large husband tossed him on the giant bed, something they invested in long ago.
The orc pulled down his pants, large girthy cock erect and heavy, a deep red tip that slowly turned green "pretty.." fourteen inches that (name) couldn't help but feel giddy as he crawled to the other and gently took the others cock in his hands, kissing the tip sweetly as he stroked the shaft with both hands, taking the tip into his mouth as he gently placed his hands on his abdomen and a womb tattoo appeared, already using magic to keep his body intact so the other could fill him fully, essentially an infinity spell to not kill him.
The taste of pre-cum made (name) hazy, fae pre-cum and the likes were aphrodisiacs, (name) 's eyes heavy as the effects of the tattoo began "Gonna take me well... Always do" the orc grumbled as he watched (name) stroke him off and trying to take him but sadly he just couldn't fit him in, not without using magic to warp his body.
And last time that happened it was horrific when he let (name) do the magic using.
Jaw unhinging and face distorting...the poor orc couldn't look at his husband the same for a week.
"Lemme see that ass" (name) let himself be manhandled into his husband's hold, upside down as he held onto the other cock while being held in the air, letting out a shaky breath when he felt his loves tongue lick from his balls to his ass and circling his hot tongue around the rim as (name) shakily stroked the orcs cock as his husband's long tongue went down to curl around (name)s cock, average in size but tiny to the massive orc who felt the aphrodisiac affects himself as his large fingers pushed into (name)s ass.
(Name) Whined and moaned as he felt himself fall apart, clinging onto the other's cock like a lifeline as his ass was finger fucked and his cock licked methodically "Please... Need it..." He needed that itch scratched, yelping when his husband smacked his ass "Behave" the other grunted as his tusks scraped (name)s lower ass cheeks.
(Name) Was manhandled onto his back, for a moment he felt giddy thinking he was getting the other big cock but let out a loud cry as his husband's index middle and ring finger fucked his ass aggressively, veins showing up on the orc's arms as he fucked as hard as he could against (name)s prostate as (name) climaxed hard but the other continued fucking through his climax, watching intensely.
He could barely muster words, the two having a safe word as their sessions got... Intense so the mewls of "stop" and "I can't!" Fell on deaf ears as the orc grinned at his lover's fucked out expression as he slowly pulled his wet fingers out "Your little ass-pussy is ready... You good there baby boy?" He asked as (name) whined "please..." (Name) Begged as he let his husband kiss him slowly, lining his giant cock to (name)s poor entrance and pushing in, shushing his whined at the sensation. no matter how many times they did it, it still stung as the orc slowly bottomed out.
"You did so good, my love" the orc soothed him as he let (name) adjust, no matter how much prep the sweet face needed to adjust for a few minutes as his body twitched helplessly "Big..." (Name) Whined as he felt his husband kiss stray tears.
The two stayed like this for a few moments before (name) gave the ok and the other slowly began thrusting, pushing out to the tip and pushing in, with each thrust he slowly picked up speed. "Oh! Fuck!" (Name) Gasped as he felt the other's balls slap against his ass, hips bruising as he was fucked like a doll.
"More!"
"Yes!"
"O-oh!"
Climaxes and moans, scratches and bites were all the things that (name) got and gave as his legs stretched with a slight burn, riding his beloved as his wings stretched out, previously hidden with magic as a harsh climax rolled through and the dust from his wings lifting them slightly "yes! Fuck me with that cock!" (Name) Scratched down the other's chest as he developed more fae features, unable to keep his magic back.
"Gonna cum in that pretty hole, take it all!" (Name) Collapsed as he was stuffed, stomach bulging as his husband filled his belly with cum.
"There... Keep you from setting trees on fire for a few days..."
450 notes · View notes
shaadiwish · 1 year
Text
As a bride-to-be, you must be under a lot of pressure. So to ease that pressure, check out the tips for a bride to survive the wedding-related stress.
0 notes
rodolfoparras · 4 months
Text
Thinking about soft sex with Price where he’s got you on to the bed, your wrists pinned behind your head and his thighs bracketing your waist. Usually this means you’re in for a rather long night but this time he’s looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and with a soft smile while murmuring the words “let me take care of you tonight yeah?”
Usually you’re the one to take him apart with your fingers or with your mouth but tonight isn’t like any other night. Tonight you arrived at the door, shoulders slumped as if carrying the weight of the world on them while looking for some sort of comfort.
And of course he’s here to offer that, has a wedding band on his hand to remind him of that but even with a bare hand he’d tear himself into pieces just to patch you up.
And it’s with a kiss to your lips that he offers you the first piece and he kisses you oh so softly, and oh so slowly, following the pulse of his heart.
His lips taste of the sweet mint tea he usually drinks before he goes to sleep, the one you’d initiated into his routine- just another way to show just how tightly intertwined the two of you are. With ever kiss you can feel his coarse mustache hair tickling your cheek and chin and you eagerly welcome the prickling feeling. His body feels warm and solid as he keeps you pinned to the bed. If this had been anyone else you’d be trying to escape- mind and reflexes rewired from your army days but this wasn’t just anyone this was your husband and therefor you feel at home, you feel grounded to the world.
He releases his grip on your wrists, one hand intertwines with yours, while the other hand drags along the side of your ribs, tracing every scar every mark, etching every curve and slope into the back of his mind, so that if he ever gets lost he can find his way back around.
It’s times like these that remind you just how experienced your husband is. Price has lived so many lives before he’s met you- the crow feet around his eyes and gray strands are proof of that, he’s had so many lovers before while you’ve only ever had one. He’s got so much experience so much knowledge and for whatever reason he’s decided to bestow it upon you, with his fingers with his mouth, and what a lucky man you are because of that.
You don’t even know when he’s stripped the clothes off of your body but all of a sudden he’s got your cock in the palm of his hand, easily setting a slow pace, and using the bit of pre collecting at the tip along with spit to aid his movements, all while closely watching you under him.
It’s almost like he thinks you’ll fall apart under his touch and for a second you want to make a joke- how you won’t break if he goes any rougher but you don’t want to do that because in this moment you feel like you could crumble under him but along with that you feel safe you feel at ease, like he’d glue all your pieces back together while holding you close to him.
It’s embarrassing how fast you cum under his touch, but he doesn’t seem to mind , matter of fact he seems endeared as ever, eyes shining brightly and smiling down at you sweetly.
524 notes · View notes
studiocapturelife · 2 months
Text
Choosing the Perfect Outdoor Location for Your Wedding Photoshoot
Tumblr media
Your wedding day is a beautiful occasion filled with love, joy, and everlasting memories. Among the countless details to consider, choosing the perfect outdoor location for your wedding photoshoot is crucial. 
Whether you envision a serene garden, a picturesque beach, or a rustic countryside backdrop, selecting the right setting sets the stage for timeless photographs that capture the essence of your special day. 
At Studio Capture Life, we understand the importance of finding the ideal outdoor location to complement your love story and create stunning wedding memories that last a lifetime.
Factors to Consider
Here are some factors to consider for choosing the perfect outdoor location for your wedding photoshoot. 
Reflect Your Style
The outdoor location you choose should reflect your personal style as a couple. 
Consider whether you prefer a romantic and whimsical ambiance, a natural and rustic setting, or a modern and urban backdrop. 
Aligning the location with your style ensures that your wedding photoshoot captures the essence of who you are as a couple.
Season and Weather
Take into account the season and weather conditions when selecting an outdoor location for your wedding photoshoot. 
While a blooming garden or vibrant fall foliage may be ideal for spring or autumn weddings, consider alternatives such as a charming indoor venue or a picturesque snow-covered landscape for winter weddings. 
Being mindful of the weather ensures a comfortable and enjoyable experience for you and your photographer.
Accessibility and Amenities
Choose an outdoor location that is easily accessible for you, your wedding party, and your photographer. 
Consider amenities such as parking, restrooms, and nearby facilities to accommodate your needs throughout the photoshoot. 
Additionally, inquire about any permits or restrictions that may apply to the chosen location to avoid any last-minute surprises.
Lighting Conditions
Pay close attention to the lighting conditions at your chosen outdoor location, as lighting plays a significant role in the outcome of your wedding photos. 
Opt for soft, diffused lighting for flattering portraits and avoid harsh midday sun or dark shadows. 
Golden hour, the hour before sunset, offers magical lighting that enhances the beauty of outdoor settings and creates romantic, ethereal photographs.
Meaningful Backdrops
Incorporate meaningful backdrops into your wedding photoshoot to add depth and significance to your images. 
Whether it's the place where you first met, a favorite scenic spot, or a location that holds sentimental value, choosing meaningful backdrops adds a personal touch to your wedding photographs and enhances the storytelling aspect of your album.
Privacy and Intimacy
Consider the level of privacy and intimacy offered by the outdoor location. If you prefer a secluded setting for intimate moments with your partner, opt for a quiet garden or secluded beach. 
Alternatively, if you enjoy a lively atmosphere with bustling streets or scenic cityscapes, choose a vibrant urban location that reflects your personality.
Time of Day
Determine the best time of day for your wedding photoshoot based on the lighting conditions and ambiance you desire. 
While golden hour is often preferred for its soft, flattering light, consider sunrise or sunset for dramatic silhouettes and breathtaking landscapes. Alternatively, plan for a midday photoshoot if you prefer bright, vibrant images with clear skies and vivid colors.
Conclusion
Choosing the perfect outdoor location for your wedding photoshoot sets the stage for capturing cherished memories that will be treasured for a lifetime. 
From reflecting your personal style to considering seasonality, accessibility, lighting, meaningful backdrops, privacy, intimacy, and time of day, each aspect contributes to creating an unforgettable experience. 
At Studio Capture Life, we are dedicated to helping you capture the magic of your wedding day in stunning photographs that tell your unique love story. 
Contact us today to schedule your consultation and begin planning your dream wedding photoshoot!
0 notes
astridthevalkyrie · 1 year
Text
honeymoon period | jumin han x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
After Jumin marries you, slowly, his threads start to untangle.
a/n: my first and probably last long jumin fic. this has been in the works for months, literally what i've been stalling on superior for (pre keigo 😭) i hope you all enjoy! i love this man <3
warnings: afab reader with she/her pronouns, some depressing thoughts, smut, oral (m and f receiving), penetrative sex, references to kinks that they both have, references/nightmares about abuse including sexual harassment, insecurity, jumin's comedy lol
word count: 13.2k (only a little less than the last superior chapter that is cray cray)
Tumblr media
There is a knock on your door.
It makes you jump. Not that you’re nervous—it’s a hotel and several of your friends and family are here to see you get married, so naturally many of them know where your room is. The room itself is, of course, lavish, a paradise compared to most of your previous lodgings. Honestly, you miss the penthouse.
No, that’s not quite right. You just miss being curled up on the couch, tucked into Jumin’s chest with Elizabeth on your lap, wine on his lips and love in his eyes. You miss him, even though you saw him last this morning. You know he’s in the hotel lobby being forced to get wasted by Luciel, because the hacker in question has sent you dozens of videos of your fiancé. In one of them, when Zen reminds him he’s getting married tomorrow, a goofy smile breaks out on his face as he ducks his head.
Maybe the wedding wasn’t necessary. Maybe you two could have just signed the necessary papers without having to go a full day without seeing each other. How are you supposed to sleep tonight? You could call him, but it wouldn’t be the same.
Sighing, you make your way to the door. If it’s one of your friends trying to convince you to let loose or a family member coming to check up on you, you’re not in the mood.
When you open the door, your fiancé is standing there.
“Jumin!”
All questions on the tip of your tongue disappear when he brings you into his arms, burying his face in your neck with a content sigh. There’s no urgency in it, just a quiet, sudden happiness, like he’s fully aware that in just a few hours he won’t have to worry about you being anywhere but in his arms again.
“Thank you.” His voice breaks the silence, muffled on your skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”
Your eyes well up with tears. What an emotional bride you’re turning out to be. And what a wonderful groom you have, to somehow know exactly what you need even when he’s not completely sober.
Slowly, you wrap your arms around him as well, breathing in the scent of his shampoo as you press a kiss to the top of his head.
“You’re welcome, Jumin.”
///
There has never been a lovelier sight than your smile, and Jumin hopes you know that.
If you don’t, he’ll just have to convince you.
“Hi, sweetheart.” You’re sporting a grin for him—just for him—wearing nothing but one of his shirts with Elizabeth the Third scurrying out from between your feet when she sees him. There’s a pink bottle on the counter. Frosting, he thinks. “I hope you don’t mind, but having a chef cook for us for a month straight has ruined my palate for anything else. I had to cook for myself again before I got spoiled. I can call him to make you dinner if you don’t want to eat what I made, though!”
“Of course not.” The urge to embrace you is unbearable. A month after the wedding, and his first day back at work after the honeymoon, he still can’t seem to keep his hands off. “What did you make? I’ll eat anything.”
He leans down to take Elizabeth the Third in his arms, scratching the back of her head softly. “Alright! I made stew and baked some cupcakes, I hope you like it. But you should probably change first. Slip into something more comfortable.”
“Ironic, considering you and I are wearing the same thing.”
“Well…” You lean over the counter, making a show of ogling him. “If you really want to match, you can leave the shirt on and take off your pants.”
It’s impossible to even try and stop the smile growing on his face. “Would you like that?”
“Come over here and find out, hubby.”
The nickname makes him flush pleasantly, but instead of taking you up on that extremely tempting offer, he simply walks up and presses a kiss to your forehead. You pout, and with the tact of knowing Elizabeth is still in his arms, you tug on his tie and kiss him properly. Jumin’s brain turns off, if only for a few seconds. As long as you kiss him and he kisses you back, the only thing he knows is you, you, you and nothing else.
Now, instead of changing, he’s holding his cat and kissing you in the kitchen. With just a minor breakaway and murmured apology, he’s no longer holding his cat. His hands slide around your back and pull you in, and your hands meet at the base of his neck. You. Only you. 
“Ju-min,” you admonish breathlessly, the second he pulls away to trail hurried kisses down your neck. “Dinner first.”
“Mm. I’m not hungry.” Or he is, but not for dinner.
Your hands come to rest on his chest, but you don’t pull away, and Jumin is beyond grateful. He doesn’t want to eat, doesn’t want to sleep or shower or do anything else when he could be showing you just how much he’d missed you at work today. 
Slightly pressed into the counter, you place your hands back and jump onto it, and he eagerly steps in between your legs to kiss you again. Your legs wrap around his waist and your hands tangle in his hair—a habit of yours, he’s noticed, to mess his hair up. He doesn’t mind. Not if it makes you happy. 
Finally, you pull away and before he can dive back in for yet another kiss, you dip your finger into the bowl next to you and offer it up to him. Without even considering it, he takes your finger in between his lips and licks the gravy off.
It’s only after he registers the taste does Jumin realize how intimate the action is. And of course, he knows that you’re married, that you and he have seen each other absolutely bare and open to one another, that he is literally making out with you in his—in your—in your shared kitchen. He knows that despite everyone thinking that the marriage was rushed and impulsive, this will be a long road, and he plans to stick by you for each and every single step. He knows that tasting something off your finger is hardly the most domestic thing you two will do.
But it doesn’t stop the flurry of butterflies he feels in his stomach. It doesn’t stop him from thinking my wife is letting me taste what she made, because she’s perfect. That’s not to mention how wonderful the taste actually is.
“Good?” you question, with gleaming eyes.
“Incredible.” He takes your hand and dips your finger in the bowl, stealing another taste right after. “More than incredible. The best stew I’ve ever had.”
“I know you’re flattering me.” Leaning forward, you take his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Softly, gently, like he’s something fragile that will break if you use any force. “But I’m not complaining. Keep going.”
“Food is always better when a beautiful woman is the one serving it.”
You beam. The butterflies in his stomach do a victory soar.
Jumin Han is in love.
///
Zen has a dream about you. That’s when the problem starts.
He tells it to the group in great detail—it’s not anything romantic or sexual, but Jumin doesn’t see a reason for you to be in his subconscious at all, even if you were just the supposed director for Zen’s dream movie. You’re not any sort of movie director, so the dream is ridiculous at any rate.
It doesn’t stop him from pouncing on you the second you two get back home. You don’t even get to take a seat before he’s pressing you against the door, ensuring it’s locked (the last thing he needs is for one of the security guards to see this and have dreams about you too) and kissing you possessively. 
“Jumin—?” There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but it cuts off into a delicious moan when he starts sucking and biting all the same spots he knows he left hickeys on during your honeymoon. 
“Spend the day with me,” he whispers. “Just me, no one else.”
An amused giggle bubbles from your throat. “I was already gonna do that, honeybunny.”
Good. That’s plenty of time for him to mark up your neck (and other places) so that everyone knows you’re his, and other people can stop dreaming of you. Already his mind is filled with wicked thoughts, of how he can make you cry and beg and scream today. From the time you two spent on your honeymoon, he knows you can get quite loud if he puts his mind to it.
The only limit is his imagination.
“Jumin.” Your head tilts back against the door, eyes closed as his tongue soothes a bite mark he just made. “Ah, J-Jumin, are you jealous?”
“No.” He is.
“I know what possessiveness looks like.” You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to each fingertip. “You know that me being in Zen’s dream isn’t something in our or even his control?”
“Of course I know that.” He huffs, impatiently fiddling with the buttons on your shirt. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
He kisses you again, and you hum in understanding, sliding your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. It’s amazing, no matter how many times he thinks everyone would dismiss him for being ridiculous over something like this, you are always there to prove that at least one person wouldn’t. And you taste. So. Damn. Good. 
So why not taste you all over? Jumin hungrily slides his tongue over your teeth, seeking entrance. When your mouth parts for him, he tastes you intimately, swallowing your soft sighs. 
“For the record,” you mumble, out of breath, “I only ever dream about you.”
“As do I, darling.” He pulls you closer still, thinking about how good you’ll taste when he has his mouth on your pussy. “As do I.”
///
This need to prove himself to you extends beyond the sexual—you laugh so much when you’re around Luciel and Yoosung. Actual laughter that is so different from the polite smiles and chuckles that are in response to his own words.
He hates it. He hates it so very much. He wants to make you laugh, full blown and unabashed. As much as he likes making you giggle, he wants to make you laugh so hard that there are tears pouring down your cheeks. And his experience has quite readily set him up for the expectation that if he wants something, he will have it.
And now, what he really, really wants is to see his wife lose her in laughter because of him.
That means it’s time to bring out the big guns.
Right now you’re under the covers, reading glasses on as you flip through a book. The book in question is something from his personal library (when he showed it to you, mentioning a scene from Beauty and the Beast, you had promptly told him that he was not a beast, but that you finally understood how the princess felt in that scene). 
To an extent, Jumin feels bad when he distracts you from work or requests your attention. But he tries to remind himself that if you didn’t want it, you were more than capable of telling him as much. And your reaction to him crawling on top of you with his arms on either side would certainly not be to put the book aside and pull him down to lay on your chest with a kiss to the crown of his head.
For once in his life, Jumin is certain that he is loved.
“I have a joke,” he tells you matter-of-factly, and your brow raises.
“What is it?”
Taking a deep breath, he raises himself up so he can take a good look at your face.
“Hit Seoul, hit Daejon, hit Daegu, hit Busan, hit it!”
There’s a long pause, and your surprised expression slowly morphs into a giggle, then at his grin, a chortle. Jumin laughs first, and then you do too, throwing your head back. It’s single-handedly the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life.
“W-what—“ You’re wheezing now, shoulders shaking. “What does that even mean?”
“I cast a spell on you. Those who laugh are no ordinary souls, for your information.”
“You are so perfect.” The praise catches him off guard, but your body is still shaking from laughter, and in your eyes he sees something like adoration. “How are you so perfect?”
That is definitely not a word he associates with his humor. His status, money, company, business acumen? Yes, perfect, as they were always meant to be. But the little flips in his stomach tell him that none of those things are what you’re referring to. The look in your eyes—he never sees you look at material objects or money that way. He has only ever seen it aimed towards him, and Jumin realizes with a start that there is no need to compete with Zen or Yoosung or Luciel—because really, there is no competition to begin with.
///
Being a workaholic comes with benefits. Everything always gets done. And he enjoys doing business, so there is no negative side effect…other than the lost time that could be spent with his wife. Typing away on the computer he has set up in his study, Jumin sighs, cracking his neck every half hour or so. He’s been at it for hours, but there’s still more left to do.
A soft knock makes him look up. You peek your head in, blinking sleepily and all wrapped up in a blanket. “Sorry to disturb,” in a whisper that barely reaches his ears, “can I sleep here, honey?”
Jumin beckons you in, looking around dubiously. “I’m sorry, I don’t think there’s any surface here you’d be comfortable on. I don’t want you to have an ache by tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Your eyes keep blinking closed, as though you’re barely staying awake. All your words are hushed, but you still manage to clamber over to his side of the desk, blanket in tow, and fall onto his lap, burying your face in his chest. 
With a start, he catches you, holding you close. “What is it, sweetheart? You can’t sleep?”
You shake your head, getting even more comfortable. “The bed’s too cold.”
Something indescribable squeezes his chest. Above everything, the pleasure that you would rather seek warmth from him rather than get another blanket is all-consuming. Without another word, he stands with you in his arms and walks to the bed. The second he steps into the bedroom, your grip on him becomes a little tighter.
He huffs back a small laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. I’d just rather you sleep here.”
Pulling out a second blanket from the closet for good measure, he lays down on the bed with you, throwing both blankets over your bodies before wrapping you up in his arms. You sigh happily, legs mixing with his and face pressing in his chest once more.
“Sorry for distracting you.” Now your voice is barely audible. “Mm…you’re just…so much warmer…”
“Can I ask you a favor?” You hum softly in response. “Please never apologize for demanding my attention. I am yours, that includes my body, my soul, and my time. Should you ever need me to sleep and I am in the office, please call me and I’ll come home immediately. I’ll take the jet home if I have to. That doesn’t just stop at my time either. If there is anything, anything, you would like, then all you have to do is ask me. I’ll buy you anything. The world is at your disposal.”
There’s a pause and Jumin thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you break the silence, quietly asking, “Is it okay if I ask you for something, then?”
“Anything.”
Cute but glossy eyes peer up at him, and you blink rapidly. “A kiss?”
Jumin places his hands on your cheeks, catching the stray tear that falls. Then he leans in, and everything is right with the world.
///
Ice Prince.
Jumin has no idea where the title actually came from. He doesn’t see what’s wrong with someone having control of their emotions. Is he expected to cry or rage at every little thing? That’s a genuine question. Maybe he doesn’t show much emotion at all, and he should. He’s open to advice.
It shouldn’t even be on his mind. He’s watching a soap opera, and the most beautiful woman in the world is in his arms. He enjoys watching your reactions more than watching the show itself, whether you’re holding back an aww or wincing. Every so often, you look up and meet his eyes, giving him a sweet smile each and every time before placing your head back on his chest. 
Still, he can’t get the article he read earlier out of his head. Has the Ice Prince really settled down? What kind of life does the new Mrs. Han lead? One can only imagine that she does not get many warm moments with Jumin Han. A speedy divorce would not be surprising.
Just the thought makes him tug you in closer, the idea of you leaving never failing to terrify him. He’s gotten better, he doesn’t freak out over you exiting the penthouse or hanging out with friends or working. He’d told himself harshly that he would not drive you away with his overt possessiveness.
But maybe he’s going to drive you away if he can’t learn to show you his emotions and instead continues to be…well, an ice prince, as much as he hates the term.
“Jumin.” You’re pressing a kiss to his throat, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Are you tired, honey? We can go to bed.”
When he looks down, you’re gazing concernedly up at him. He doesn’t feel like a villain when you look upon him like this. And holding you close is not the only privilege he has here. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you, and you melt in almost immediately. Jumin knows that you’re starting to get sleepy because you don’t make any move to straddle him further.
The man who knows you best—that is what the articles should be about. Doting husband. Family man. Your partner. How could anyone think he was cold or heartless to you?
“Juju,” you mumble softly, not bothering to break the kiss, “we should get to bed.”
Yes, you’re right. However…
“May I ask you a question?” His curiosity and slight anxiousness requires him to make sure. If he’s ever done anything to make you think he’s some kind of robot, he needs to get rid of such behavior immediately.
Your lips quirk like he’s said something funny. “You may.”
“Have I ever seemed…cold to you?” Almost as if to remind you before you answer, he holds your hand, squeezing gently, while the other hand remains on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Since we’ve been together, I mean. Have I ever acted anything like an…” Jumin cringes just saying it out loud. “Ice prince?”
The question seems to take you aback, and you blink a few times. Your eyes—warm, beautiful eyes—first stare at him with a certain confusion, then quickly become infused with a sudden anger.
“Did someone say that about you? Who was it?”
“No one,” he responds, then hastily amends, “there have always been articles calling me that. I just happened to see one today, so it was on my mind.”
Now, you really do straddle him, threading your fingers through his hair. The anger has dulled into a stubborn crossness. With a deep scowl, you kiss his forehead and say, “That is ridiculous. You have been nothing but warm to me, Jumin Han.”
The same warmth you’re talking about spreads across his cheeks, painting them pink, but you’re not done.
“Since when do you care about those articles anyway? They’ve always been inane. Remember when everyone was convinced that you would marry Sarah?” Here you huff, and he hates to admit that he loves seeing you jealous, even if over someone he never even considered getting to know. “And you had to set them straight for them to print anything accurate. Maybe I should give a press statement of my own. Ice Prince my ass.”
“Such language,” Jumin says lowly, already hiding his face in your neck. You’re still peeved, muttering things under your breath as you stroke his hair, angry kisses pressed to his skin in the middle of your rant.
Eventually, you tire yourself out, falling asleep right there on his chest, a common occurrence. He doesn’t mind it one bit, it’s actually really easy to carry you to bed. For some reason, Jumin feels much, much lighter.
///
His wife is a party planner. An event planner, technically, since you’ll take some requests for meetings as well, but it’s mostly parties. He knows that due to your marriage, there’s been an increase in the amount of clients wanting you to plan their events. Even before, you’d said your schedule had always been sporadic, revolving around whatever the current most pressing event was.
Frankly, he shouldn’t be surprised, with how masterfully you pulled off the RFA party. 
He’s more than proud of you, of course. He’s now attended quite a few of the events you put together, and it always leaves him impressed. You’ve confided in him about how you’d like to either switch to a company that exclusively does weddings or start your own, and despite your protests, he’s fully prepared to finance such an endeavor when the time comes.
The only issue about your job, and his job as well, is that your schedules can be sporadic. There are days where you can work without even leaving the penthouse, and then there are days where you are running around and don’t return until 2 AM. Jumin can hardly get upset when he’s taunted the clock with his record times at coming home as well.
Can’t get upset at you, that is. Being upset at the situation is perfectly reasonable. He wants to spend time with his wife, dammit. You’re his favorite person in the world, all the things he wants to do involve being with you.
So when he’s the one who’s arriving at 2 in the morning, he deflates to see that you’re fast asleep, a couple documents and your phone in the bed next to you. How many times has he told you he would set up a separate room for you to work in? Each time, you shake your head and say all you need is your phone and laptop, and you can work anywhere. That doesn’t take into account your health, though. The place you relax should not be associated with work, or it leads to a less relaxing sleep cycle. He once read a study about that.
It might be hypocritical, but Jumin misses you. He wants to talk to you so badly it pains him, and not just longing phone calls that always leave him wanting more.
Loosening his tie, he waits for a second before falling hard onto the bed.
Your eyes flutter open immediately, and in your daze you take in your still-dressed husband. With a sleepy smile, you push away all the papers next to you to snuggle into his arms. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you.” One arm secured around your back, he pulls you as close to him as you can. He sees you breathe in his lingering cologne, and it makes him downright giddy that his scent seems to bring you comfort. “Shouldn’t a loving wife be waiting up for her husband?”
You yawn, throwing one leg around him. “Not when the husband returns at an ungodly time and the wife has an early morning site inspection. Did you have dinner?”
“I did. Did you?”
“Mmh. Yeah. I refrigerated some in a container if you wanna take it to work tomorrow.” 
This is one of his favorite domestic things you do—and he doesn’t even think you realize how much he appreciates it. If it’s between having something from a five star restaurant or having your cooking, the latter will win each and every time. Sometimes he wants to brag  to the whole world, although the most he’ll do is slip how tasty his lunch was today to Assistant Kang (who will almost always respond with a dry, “Glad to hear that, Mr. Han.”).
“I will.” Jumin kisses your lips, smiling when he feels you respond with little effort. “I’ve missed you.”
Your arms snake around his waist as you tuck your head under his chin. Jumin sighs when he feels you kiss his collarbone. “I’ve missed you too.” All he needs is your breath on his skin, or your hands on his face, or your voice filling his ears. It relaxes him instantly. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”
“I’ll be in the office all day.” Already he groans, burying his face in your hair in the hopes that it will preemptively soothe the headache sure to form tomorrow. At first he didn’t understand why you insisted on using the same hair conditioner you always did instead of a much more expensive one he could buy for you, but the smell of your hair is so exquisite that now he wholly prefers it (although there is a special kind of tingling in his chest reserved for the moments you smell like him). 
“Same. After my inspection, I’m going to be meeting four new clients, and I’m going to guess they all want priority.” You roll your eyes, carding your fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow is also Mr. Wang’s wedding, so I’ll be back late.”
At his wordless whine, you giggle, kissing his cheek. Then after a few seconds of thoughtful silence, a soft hum sounds from your throat.
“I have an idea.”
///
The click of Jaehee’s heels alerts him to her entrance, and Jumin straightens in his chair, accepting the papers that she hands him. 
“Thank you. Have you eaten, Assistant Kang?”
Jaehee blinks at him once, then twice, like he’s grown an extra head. Then she slowly nods, the surprised expression melting back into her perfectly professional one once more. “Yes, sir. And you?”
“Not yet. I brought a container my wife packed for me.”
“Honey, I don’t think she really cares to know that.”
“I see. She is a pretty good cook if I recall correctly.”
“Everyone cares,” Jumin insists. 
“Excuse me?”
“You’re so sweet, it’s annoying. I want to kiss you all the time.”
“Mr. Han, are you alright? You look a bit out of it—should I call for a doctor?”
“Do it.” He smiles at the papers in his hands. “I won’t stop you.”
“Call…call the doctor?”
“Will you kiss me back, in front of all your employees?”
“Yes. Of course. Whatever you desire.”
“Right away, sir,” Jaehee responds in a sort of strangled voice, and it’s not until he hears the click of her heels again that he remembers she was there. In almost a flash, she leaves his office. 
“What did she say?”
Jumin touches the tiny earpiece that’s been on all day, adjusting it only slightly. “I honestly have no idea.”
///
Jumin hates leaving. But he does, well, what is the phrase? Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave? Something along those lines, is what you’ve said to him. He’s not sure it applies here, since he is actually leaving to go abroad for a few days, and already he’s looking forward to his reunion with you, but he didn’t expect that both of you would be so needy for each other the night before the flight.
It starts with a few kisses, a pout on your lips that he thinks he can kiss away if he just tries hard enough. Telling you in hushed whispers that he’ll miss you an unfathomable amount. Your understanding on a pragmatic level, and your clinginess the second you both laid down. Both are appreciated more than he can say.
“What if I want to watch a movie with you?”
Kiss. “Just wait a week for me, my love.”
“What if the bed is too cold and I need you to warm me up?”
Kiss. “One week, I promise. No more than a week.”
“What if aliens invade the penthouse and I have no one to protect me?”
Kiss. “Tell them that your husband is going to kill them…in a week.”
For a few minutes, it goes on like this, with you proposing other scenarios and Jumin doing his best to both reassure you and make you laugh. He lays kiss upon kiss to your lips, and perhaps subconsciously, they become more ravenous, demanding. Seeking more. Seeking your conviction on just how much you will miss him.  
“Jumin,” you breathe into his mouth. Jumin, Jumin. He loves how you say his name.
You’re seeking something as well, the warmth that you are so certain will disappear along with him. On one hand, he hates that his princess has to sleep without him at all, especially when she clearly doesn’t want to. And on the other hand, knowing that you’ll be here, missing him so desperately, makes his heart flutter. You’ll miss him. You’ll miss him.
Within moments, you’re on top of him, seated on his lap and unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt. He’s responding in kind, leaving love bites on your neck as he slides your night robe off your shoulders. 
“What if I get lonely?” you ask, more demure than you actually are. “What if I need you, and my fingers aren’t enough?”
His hands press into your hips, hard enough to bruise. You mewl at the slight pain, and he manages to hiss, “I never want your fingers to be enough. If you wait for me, princess, I’ll make you cum more times than you can handle when I get back.” Even if just the idea of you sending him a video or even calling him as you touch yourself was incredibly appealing. Maybe next time. This week, he would have you think of nothing but his own fingers, his tongue, his cock.
And what better way to do that than to remind you how they feel?
“I’ll be gone seven days exactly.” Spoken more to your breasts than you, but he does gaze up at you reverently as he kneads them in his hands. “Maybe tonight I can make you cum once for every day I won’t be here. Would you like that?”
He jerks his thigh up against your core before you can answer, so you nod frantically, mouth falling open. “Uh huh!”
And who is Jumin to ever deny you?
///
The trip right before Valentine’s is the worst. It’s all Jumin can do to finish work before running like a madman through several different stores, picking up this and that. He insists on a different bag for each purchase, despite the clerks gently pointing out that he can put a lipstick tube in the same bag as a pair of heels and nothing will happen, but he doesn’t want to. He would like to see you open every item with a new spark of delight in your eyes.
Usually, he would return late at night, always opting to finish the day’s work and catch a flight right after instead of waiting for morning, because this way he would arrive home, gather you up in his arms as you slept soundly, and then bask in your surprise and delight when you woke the next morning. 
And this time would have been no different if one of the departments had not messed up, forcing him to wake up on Valentine’s Day still out of the country. After five days’ worth of work forced into two hours, a shopping spree and a quick call with you, he nearly takes the wheel from the pilot himself before Jaehee begs him to just sit and try to enjoy the ride home. The rest of the trip, they are engaged in a glaring contest every time she looks up from the video she is watching on her laptop. 
As soon as the door opens, he hears a surprised cry of his name, and then you’re barreling into him—all the bags in Jumin’s hands fall to the floor in favor of catching you and hefting you up in the air for a spin. 
“I thought—“ Kiss. “That you—“ Kiss. “Weren’t coming back today!“ Deeper kiss.
“I couldn’t miss my first Valentine’s with you, my love.” The deepest kiss of all.
The two of you only stop because his bodyguards are coming into the room after him, with more bags. Your eyes widen as you take in all of them, and your sharp mind has already pieced together what’s going on. “Is this all for me?”
“Of course.” Jumin knows that the way you’re latching onto him with such a tight grip is a more priceless gift than anything in these bags. “Why don’t you open everything? I wish to see your reaction.”
And so you do. The makeup, the shoes, the clothes, the jewelry, the books, the decor, all of fine quality and all things well thought out with your interests in mind. With every single item, no matter how big or small, you gasp, or squeal, or simply smile ever so widely. And without fail, you kiss him right on the lips each time.
Jumin is dizzy only halfway into the opening process—he must start buying you gifts far more often if this is the reward he gets.
However, you see beyond just his outward appearance, and you place the next bag he hands you aside without so much as a glimpse at it before clambering onto his lap. Hands on his cheeks, your thumbs smooth over where he’s sure eyebags are forming. “My poor Juju,” you whisper, “you look really tired, honey.”
Honey, honey, honey. How joyful he feels when you call him honey. “As always, you see right through me. I can’t hide from you, can I?”
“I never want you to hide from me.” A sweet kiss pressed to his cheek makes his stomach jump, like he’s a teenage boy with a crush. “Let’s lay down, shall we? We can finish opening everything afterwards.”
Jumin concedes, rising hand in hand with you until you’re both on the bed, curled up in each other. “What a terrible Valentine’s this turned out to be. I’m sorry, my love.”
Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him slow, soft and smooth. “What are you talking about? You’re here where I can hold you, we’re both off work, and you’ve gifted me more than anyone else ever has or will in my life.”
“Good,” he says, satisfied that he’s set a standard that no one else can ever match for you. “But is that…enough?”
“Enough?” Your tone is incredulous. “Jumin, just you being here is more than enough. I love you so, so much, and I—“ You cut yourself off, slightly backing up as though you’re trying not to overwhelm him (a ridiculous notion, he would love nothing more than for you to overwhelm his every sense). “I cannot believe how lucky I am to have married you.”
This time he kisses you, the idea of sleep slipping further and further away because really, why should he close his eyes when he can only see you when they’re open? Why should he rob himself of the privilege to gaze upon your lovely face and listen to your quiet, soothing voice? Why should he do anything else, eat or drink or work or play, when he could simply kiss you for the rest of his life?
“I love you,” he breathes, pulling you closer because you simply can never be close enough. “Happy Valentine’s, my precious wife.”
///
Of course, the first time your schedule allows you to accompany him on a business trip he’s ecstatic. Finally a week without the headache of returning to an empty hotel room, and instead what will feel like more of a vacation, especially once he completes the necessary work and the two of you can spend the rest of the days lazing by the beach.
Because of the honeymoon, Jumin had become well acquainted with your fear of flying, and had arranged your seats in his private jet to be close together. As the jet takes off, he holds your hand in his as you squeeze, eyes shut tightly for the takeoff. Reassuringly, he kisses your hand, rubbing the back of it while his other hand strokes Elizabeth the Third’s head through the carrier she’s in. 
“Poor Elizabeth,” you manage to whimper, still looking quite pale even after the takeoff is done, “I hope she doesn’t get airsick.”
“She doesn’t,” Jumin reassures. Elizabeth is used to such flights, unlike you. He’d much rather you focus on your own health right now.
The stewardess for the flight comes through with the cart of food and drinks. “Anything for you, Mr. Han?”
“A glass of wine.”
“Of course, sir. And you, Mrs. Han?”
“Oh, um…” You smile sheepishly up at her. “Would you happen to have apple juice?”
The woman blinks once, then, as though she’s fighting back a laugh, says, “Apple juice, ma’am?”
“Is that a problem?” Jumin cuts in sharply before you can answer, glaring daggers.
“No, no! O-of course I can give you apple juice, ma’am, I didn’t mean to offend—“
“No offense taken.” Even nauseous and teased, you smile kindly, eyes lighting up when you have your drink. If he remembers correctly, he used to drink apple juice when he would get airsick as a child as well.
When the stewardess leaves, you lean over and press an apple-tasting kiss to his lips, and he catches a few drops of the juice in his mouth. It tastes yummy, or maybe it’s just the taste of you that he likes. 
Probably the latter. Either way, he’s eager to get this vacation started.
///
“I feel so good that you’re here. Thank you so much for coming. I…never want to let you go.”
“I’ve trapped you here, haven’t I?” he asks one night, after he thinks you’ve fallen asleep.
You’re wide awake, though, and he feels your lips on his throat as you whisper, “I’ve never once felt trapped with you, Jumin.”
///
You’re a lightweight, and it’s the most adorable thing Jumin has ever seen. Including cat photos. Including Elizabeth the Third. And you don’t realize just how cute you are, which only makes you cuter.
“Juju,” you whine, when he starts to guide you to bed.
“You have to sleep, my dear.” Almost smugly, he places a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Sleep and allow me to take care of you in the morning.”
The protest you seemed to be ready to fire back morphs into a happy giggle as you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “I do like when you take care of me.”
“Likewise.”
For some reason, that sends you into more giggles as you press against him. “You talk so smart like. I love when you use big words.”
Biting back a smile, Jumin raises a brow. “Is likewise a big word?”
“Anything is a big word when you say it.” You kiss him softly, sliding your hands in his hair. You love messing up his hair, almost as much as he loves letting you do it. “You’re so smart. So clever. Your brain is like…” To exaggerate your point, you lean your head away, with his hands on your back to keep steady. “Soooo huge.”
“Not the only thing,” he hums slyly.
“Jumin!” Laughing, you hit his shoulder, only for him to tug you in close, making you squeak. The only downside to how well you two know each other now is that he doesn’t get to see your beautifully embarrassed face, but he still gets some wins when he catches you off guard.
“I’m only kidding, my love.” Watching your lips part for him as he leans in, Jumin kisses you this time, gently sucking your lower lip between his teeth. Let no one say he wasn’t out and open with his oral fixation when it came to you. “I’m honored to know you find me intelligent.”
You beam, nearly blinding him with how brilliant your smile is. “Intelligent, and funny. So, so funny. I love your jokes.” Now you turn your cheek, placing sloppy kisses along his jaw. “And handsome. I have the most handsome husband in the world.”
Jumin, only now realizing the difference between being happy and being giddy and knowing he’s both, can only close his eyes, tilting his head back. “Ironic for you to say, considering no one with your beauty has ever existed before nor will exist again.”
The way your cheeks flush make him realize that he, too, must be quite tipsy. Surely his stomach does not flip so violently just to see how your eyes glow at his praise.
“I love you.” You swallow, and he watches the movement of your throat closely. “Do you know how much?”
He exhales, not having realized he inhaled before. “M-more than is reasonable, I presume.”
“A lot more than is reasonable,” you whisper before kissing him again. This one is different, he can tell. Something more desperate. More wanting. More likely to make him lose his mind.
How does he know? It’s because you’re not just kissing him, you’re also borderline riding the knee he’s slotting between your legs. With a whine, you tug on his collar, as though you want him closer. Need him closer. 
Losing his mind is just the beginning.
“Sit on the couch.” The tone with which you beg makes his already hardening cock twitch. “Please, Jumin.”
He obeys—how could he not obey?—and just the sight of you dropping to your knees to unbuckle his pants has him throwing his head back with a lustful groan. How did he get here? How did he get so lucky? 
You kiss the head of his cock, and Jumin is gone.
When you start bobbing your head, eagerly sucking with your eyes closed in concentration, it takes every inch of willpower he has ever had to not cum immediately, so that this can last. With every slow caress of your tongue, he can feel himself getting lost in his own base senses, every coherent thought fading away and leaving only an animalistic need.
“Princess,” he moans, fingers in your hair. His words escape him in a slurred, barely coherent manner. “I, ahh, won’t last—shit—”
Coming inside your warm, wet mouth is not in the top five moments he remembers when he thinks of his favorite times with you, because he likes to think he’s classier than that, but regardless, he’s never going to forget this.
///
Growing up, the one trait that he was always told to avoid and to find disdainful in others was laziness. There is nothing worse than a person who is not efficient. People who waste time just doing simple tasks are not worth his time, he was told.
But surely, surely, that does not apply to you. (Or maybe it’s a silly lesson in the first place, another one to add the list he has started to garner since he married you.)
It does not apply when you have to get up early for work and you sadly try cuddling with him in the five minutes you have left to remain in bed. Most days Jumin leaves before you, pressing a kiss to the lips of the princess in bed before heading out. Your parted lips in sleep do such a number on him that he has to make sure not to linger too long.
Days where your job demands you wake with him are no less enjoyable, and perhaps even more so as he gets to witness your clinginess. Jumin tugs you to the bathroom, where you close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as both of you brush your teeth. When you finally make it to the kitchen, he seats you on the chair by the counter and amuses himself by watching your sleepy eyes follow him while he makes a quick breakfast.
“Maybe I could eat ‘n your lap?” you ask cutely, poking at your scrambled eggs with a fork. 
“My dear,” Jumin answers, intertwining your fingers to kiss the back of your hand, “I would love nothing more, but you will fall asleep again.”
Not even an argument as you nod with a lazy smile, head falling forward on the counter. “I want to fall asleep again. How do you do this every day?”
“It’s what I’ve always done.” He’s finished with his eggs, so he stands, sweeping your hair aside to lean down and press a kiss to your nape. You squeal, squirming away as he catches you and tugs you to him, watching you immediately give up this play fight and snuggle into his chest to catch a bout of standing shut-eye. “Now come, Driver Kim is waiting to drop us both off.”
You shake your head, clutching onto him stubbornly.
“You can sleep on my lap in the car.”
And he feels inordinately pleased with how fast you move after that.
///
The days that he knows you will be at the penthouse when he returns, there’s always an extra breath in his steps, as if the air itself knows he must return home immediately.
Tonight, for example. He has a whole night planned. The two of you would cook the next thing to try on that list of recipes you printed and excitedly taped up in the kitchen, then after dinner he plans to play some soft music and waltz you around the rather spacious living room, and then both of you could go for a swim in the pool, and the night would end with you dozing off in his arms.
A perfect night. The kind he dreams about, the kind that he never can quite believe are real.
When he opens the door, he doesn’t hear any call of his name nor is he tackled in a hug, which only makes his shoulders deflate slightly. Elizabeth the Third softly mrrows at him from where she’s sitting on the couch. Placing a kiss atop her head, he pokes in to check a few rooms, searching for his wife. 
You’re nowhere to be found. The only place left to check is the bedroom. His sweetheart usually doesn’t fall asleep so early, though.
He opens the door, then freezes in his tracks.
With a couple of candles lit up around the room, you sit on the bed, nothing on except the set of lingerie he ordered a few weeks ago at your request, black as the night sky (“because it reminds me of you”). A few pillows support you as you lean back, eyes trained on him. There’s a glass of wine in your hands, and another on the table next to you clearly reserved for him. 
You take a small sip, and some drops purposefully miss your lips and slowly drip down your neck, down over the swell of your breasts.
“Care to join me, husband?”
Jumin swallows.
None of his plans end up coming to fruition that night, and he doesn’t mind one bit.
///
(You’ve pointed out how the most random things turn him on—when you wear his clothes, but specifically his striped shirts, when you let him buy something ludicrously expensive for you, when you do simple things to take care of him, when you wait for him at home after work, cat ears—cat ears, cat ears, cat ears!—and the rare moments where he gets to see you pissed off.
But he’d only responded how the things you were into were equally as random—seeing him disheveled after a hard day’s work or a visit to the gym, the way he answered business calls simply by saying Jumin Han speaking, what do you need, and every time you’re naked on his lap while he’s fully clothed. 
Shall I remind you how desperate you get, my dear? he growls into your ear. Your cheeks flush, and Jumin reaches for the ribbon in the drawer, even more impatient than you are.)
///
There are other times where Jumin will arrive home and if you aren’t leaping into his arms, kissing him full on the lips as he spins you around or pins you to the wall depending on the mood, you’re sitting on the couch, typing away on your laptop either for your job or for the RFA.
In those moments, he finds himself easily sliding his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, absolutely reveling in the subconscious way you rub his nape and kiss his hair.
Sometimes you both will exchange stories of your day, expanding on something a phone call simply couldn’t cover or something that perhaps you had wanted to say in person to fully soak in the reaction (you seem to particularly enjoy how he insults the difficult clients you tell him about). Other times, there is a serene silence, only broken by Elizabeth the Third’s purring and the clack of your keyboard keys. 
You smell so good, all the time. He wonders if he should be capitalizing on the perfume you use so that no one else can buy it. That way this scent would solely be yours, just like he is. Something about that idea blooms a warmth in his chest.
The best part of the night comes when you finish, closing the laptop and setting it aside before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you,” you say, only for his ears, just like how your lips are only for his skin, just like how your scent is only for his nose, just like how Jumin is only here to be yours entirely. 
///
In the past, when he’s fallen ill, he’s either ignored it or simply just taken the necessary amount of time to recover. The last time he was pampered like this was as a child by his nannies. And even their doting paled in comparison to yours (but then, didn’t everything, when it came to you).
Because this. This, is heavenly.
Every single ounce of your affection is solely for him. Your soup that you feed him, your fingers stroking his hair, your voice sweetly singing him to sleep. Your lips on his forehead, whispering, “How are you feeling, Juju?” 
Granted, because he’s sick, he can’t fully appreciate it without the feeling that his body is turning against him. But it’s worth it, it’s easily worth it.
So, the day that he wakes up with a low temperature, feeling absolutely fine, he still manages to cough pitifully and throw out the word to Jaehee that he simply has to take another day off.
You have a knowing smile on your face, but when he slips his arms around your waist, with his face buried in your neck, you still hold him just as warmly, and Jumin is so, so, so in love with you. Nothing could possibly stand to be better than this. One hand absentmindedly strokes his hair while you type on your phone with the other hand, communicating with someone from work. 
Your phone starts to ring; he only shifts minimally to get closer as you answer it. “Hey, what’s up?”
He can hear the person who called—it’s one of your friends. “Hey! Check your messages, I won that ukulele I told you I would win last time.”
The sound of your laugh is so melodious, he’d do anything to get drunk on it. “Win another one for me, I’ll hang it up in my closet.”
“Yeah, right.” Your friend snorts. “I wish you were able to come. It’s been so long since we’ve been here.”
“I know, but Jumin really doesn’t feel well. I couldn’t just leave him at home alone.” As though your friend can see, you plant a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll go another time, definitely.”
“I’ll hold you to it. Alright, I have to go. Give the husband all my love, I hope he feels better.”
“Will do. Bye, have fun!”
With that, you hang up, resuming the scrolling through your phone and the stroking of his hair. Jumin is still, for good reason. 
You had meant to go out with your friends today. And due to his not-actually-sick state, you had canceled on them.
Hadn’t he told you to put him second to your own self? But he can’t pin this on you, not when he was the one faking. A terrible feeling begins to rise in his chest, causing him to move away from you and stare at you with a guilty expression.
“Is your neck finally tired of…” You trail off when you look at him, furrowing your brows. “What happened?”
“You were meant to go out today.”
A small frown forms on your face. “Um…we made plans, yeah. But you were sick—“
“I wasn’t,” he confesses, ironically sick to his stomach. “I just wanted to take another day off and spend some time with you.”
“I know that.”
“I—you know?”
The frown on your face is replaced by a tiny smile, as you tug gently to bring him back into your arms. “You’re not exactly subtle.”
“Yes I am.” He pouts, still upset but more calm now that you don’t seem disappointed. 
“Honey, the one time I kissed your finger after you got a papercut, you somehow got a papercut on every finger the following week.”
Jumin blushes, but you’re not wrong—he just craves your attention. You simply make everything better.
“More importantly,” and now you pull him into your chest, settling back into the same comfortable position with a kiss on his forehead, “I’m faking just as much as you, because I love it when you do things like this. Why would I complain? I get to spend time with you.”
This is what it feels like, Jumin is certain, to be loved. To be cared for and adored so deeply that it leaves an ache in one’s chest. “The next time,” he murmurs, as your hand finds purchase in his hair once more, “The next time you would like to go out to an amusement park with your friends, please let me know. I can buy it out for the day.” A thoughtful pause. “Or forever.”
Another soft kiss, he’s tempted to keep going, to make more and more outrageous promises just to earn each and every press of your lips to his skin. “My friends will appreciate that. I think the park is already owned by C&R, actually.” You chuckle. “Some fast passes though? I wouldn’t say no.”
Fast passes? He’ll ask you what in the world those are just as soon as he finishes kissing you (something a fake sick person can, thankfully, afford to do).
///
A soft knock on the door. 
“Mother?” He makes sure to keep his voice to a polite volume. “I’ve played with all my toys. May I please come out now?”
Silence. 
Jumin clears his throat, trying his best not to look behind him, just three steps down. It’s dark down there, and he knows it is not logical to be afraid of the dark, but even the logic does little to quell the growing fear inside him. 
“Mother? It…it has been a few hours now.” Fourteen hours, he counted on the tiny clock that ticks a little too loudly in the basement. “May I please be let out? I’m starting to get hungry.”
That’s a lie, but he doesn’t think she’ll know. The truth is he began to get hungry hours ago, and is now close to starving. As if on cue, his stomach growls. 
Jumin knocks again, the dread he feels growing with every second. “Please, Mother, I’ll be good. I’ll play with my toys. I’ll be normal. Please let me out.”
None of it makes any sense to him. In all the books he reads, none of the mothers lock their sons up in the basement. But then maybe none of the sons are as strange and abnormal as he is. They didn’t need to be locked up like he did. 
Still, even if he deserves this, the loneliness is starting to scare him.
“Please.” Childish tears start to prick at his eyes. “Mother? I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.”
The only response he gets is the silence, beckoning him to come back to the darkness where he belongs. With a trembling lip, he turns to face it once more.
The doorknob jiggles.
He whips his head back, not daring to believe it. Is this punishment finally over? 
The first thing he’s going to do after he eats is call Jihyun, ask him if he’d like to go to the park nearby. Anything to go outside, in the light, with other people. 
Except, to his horror, when the door finally opens, it’s not his mother standing at the top, but his stepmother.
“No,” Jumin whispers, stumbling back. He misses one step and trips, hands on the cement floor as he stares, terrified, at the woman. “Please, no. Where’s Mother?”
The woman at the top laughs, a sound that seems to make others happy but only serves to suffocate him further. He’ll choose to stay in the darkness for a hundred more hours before going upstairs to see her. “What’s this? Another woman in your life, Jumin? What a lady killer!”
He shakes his head desperately, as though to tell her that there’s no one, there’s no need for her to get possessive.
It doesn’t work. 
“I’m your mother, Jumi.” He hates that nickname. “Shouldn’t you spend more time with me? You know I love our time together. I know you love it too.”
No, no, no, no, no. He’s on his feet in an instant, scrambling back away from her as fast as possible. His back hits the shelf, no longer a child but an adult, and yet still equally as pathetic.
“Your father doesn’t even pay attention to me anymore. You’re all I have, Jumi.” Her eyes turn cold. “But it looks like you’ve found someone else, haven’t you? You’ve replaced me so easily.”
Now her gaze is focused somewhere else. Jumin follows it, peers through the darkness, only to see…
You.
Relief floods his chest all at once. You are his solace, to hold close and worship. You are the only person to ever understand him, to love him without hurting him. You have accepted him no matter how much he’s shown you that he doesn’t deserve any of your care. As long as you are by his side, he can face anything.
“Jumin.” Even his name sounds so much nicer coming from you. Everything and everyone else seems to melt away.
He takes one step towards you.
You speak again, but it doesn’t sound the same this time.
“Jumin.” Now that he can see your face properly, you look…angry. “Don’t come any closer.”
Immediately, he stops, and that sharp fear grips his throat, squeezing.
“You’re fucked up, Jumin.”
The words spit out of you like a spear, hitting him right in the center. 
It can’t be you talking. You don’t say things like that. You always tell him you love him, that you understand him, that you adore him.
But maybe you’ve just…had enough.
Tears begin to spill from his eyes. You stand before him, his heart in your hands, and you look at him with such disgust that he hopes the darkness in here opens up and swallows him.
“I’m leaving,” you say firmly, “don’t follow me.”
“Please,” he gasps, shakily reaching a hand out. “Please don’t leave me here, my love.”
But you don’t listen. You step up the stairs, grip the door, and with one last look of vitriol, you slam it shut, damning him to the darkness forever.
Jumin wakes with a gasp that’s really a sob, head jerking up and slamming against yours.
“Ah!” You grip your forehead, wincing in pain from your position above him. “Ow ow ow, that hurt!”
Like he’s in auto mode, Jumin sits up, touching your cheek with a terrified expression. “I’m so sorry, my love, let me call the doctor. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, I’m fine.” You wince again, rubbing your forehead. “It’ll probably bruise later, but I can deal with it.”
He hurt you. He hurt you.
But you don’t have any of the hate that your dream counterpart did in her eyes. Instead, yours are filled with concern, and you cup his cheeks with such gentleness that he closes his eyes, immediately melting in your hands.
“Were you having a nightmare?” You kiss his forehead. “You were tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep.”
As much as he wants to bask in your worry for centuries, it doesn’t stop the guilt that threatens to spill. “I apologize for waking you, my love. And for hitting you. I—I was having a nightmare, yes, but I’m alright now.”
“Jumin.”
“If you’d like, I can make some tea for you to help you go back to sleep—“
“Jumin.” Your lips are on his forehead again. “You’re crying, sweetheart.”
So he is. It’s strange he didn’t realize, but there are indeed tears wetting his cheeks. He opens his eyes to meet your gaze, looking at him so sincerely and with such care that this time he actually feels the tears pour down.
“Oh,” you breathe, brows meeting in concern. Your thumbs wipe his tears away diligently, and your lips begin to kiss every spot you wipe. Jumin trembles under your touch, hating himself for being so pathetic in front of you and simultaneously considering crying forever so that you stay here forever too. “What is it, honey? Please tell me how I can help.”
He wants to. But all he can manage to do is grip the back of your shirt in his hands, bury his face in your shoulder, and sob.
Not even for a second do you let him go. He doesn’t know how long he stays in your arms, seconds, minutes or hours. He cries, and cries, and cries, until his eyes feel swollen. and all the while your hand strokes his hair, your lips kiss his cheek, and your voice comes out in soothing whispers.
It’s okay. 
I’m right here, I’m here for you. 
You have me forever. 
We’re going to get through this.
I promise I’ll stay with you as long as you want.
Even though he hasn’t told you what his nightmare was about, you still somehow know exactly what to say. 
Even when he finally tires himself out, Jumin can’t stand the thought of not being held by you. He’s never felt this safe, this protected, in his entire life. He continues to grip your shirt tightly, breathing in and out, chest heaving. Any second now, he thinks. Any second now, you’re going to pull away and see how awful he is when he clings to you again, like a child.
You do no such thing. Instead, you lean back against the headboard, gently guiding his head to rest on your chest. It’s not the most comfortable position, but he shifts so that he’s sitting curled into you and pulls you forward gently to place a pillow behind your back. This way, he can hear your heartbeat.
And it’s that steady rhythm that makes his eyes start to droop.
But if he falls asleep again, he risks having another nightmare.
“Sleep,” you murmur, kissing his temple. Jumin’s eyes close on instinct. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The promise knocks him right out.
///
When he wakes, you’ve kept your promise, and you’re in the same unfortunate position, head lulled to the side as you snooze. 
An indescribable feeling settles upon him. It’s not just one feeling, in fact, but multiple. Guilt, because he forced you to sleep like this throughout the night. Gratitude, because he’s pretty sure he’s in the arms of an angel sent from above. And most importantly, he feels white hot love, because he has clearly married the only person in this world worth a damn.
And as much as he wants to stay like this, he knows that will surely not bode well for the chiropractor appointment he plans to schedule for you. So Jumin slips out of your embrace gently, taking good care to lay your head down on the pillow. With you picturesque in front of him, he places a kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Thank you.”
“Ju,” you mumble in your sleep. Your hand seems to reach for something, stopping when he intertwines his fingers with yours.
An angel, indeed.
Jumin gets up fully, taking the time to brush his teeth and freshen up before going into the kitchen to whip something up for breakfast. He wasn’t expected at the office until after lunch, so he had time to really make something nice. Chocolate chip pancakes, instead of his usual strawberry.
As he makes the batter, he thinks. Last night was…an anomaly. There should be no reason for him to dream of people that no longer matter anymore. His present is the most important, and his present is, thanks to you, leagues and leagues ahead of his past anyway. He wants to forget it all, forget his mother and stepmother and even Sarah Choi, who, while she hadn’t made an appearance last night, had been in his nightmares more than once, in a bleak alternate reality where he actually married her.
But he knows who he really married. It’s the person whose arms are sneaking around his waist right now. You.
“Morning.” Your voice is exceedingly pleasant, especially when it’s cooed in his ear. “You’re going in late, right?”
“Yes.” He places a kiss on the back of your hand, pressing his lips to each knuckle. “And you, my princess?”
“All from home today, my prince.”
Inwardly, he feels a quick twinge of irritation. “I wish I could spend the whole day with you. I should call out.”
“I’m never going to dissuade you of that.” You kiss him right on the nape of his neck; Jumin shudders. “But it’s up to you.”
“I’ll end up burning these pancakes if you keep distracting me.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.” Your laugh is so pretty, he thinks, and he didn’t think he could describe laughter as pretty before you. “Um, before I get too off topic…don’t you think we should talk, Jumin?”
He knew you weren’t going to simply forget the fact that he had cried himself back to sleep last night. Luckily, before you’d woken, he’d already prepared for such a scenario.
“I apologize for disrupting your sleep. I had a disturbing dream, but it will not happen again.”
For a second, he thinks it’s enough to stop you from asking any further questions, up until he feels your arms slide out from under him. The next thing he knows, you’re turning off the stove before he can start on the next batch of pancakes. 
Then, you’re gently turning him so he’s facing you, looking at you right in the eye. Jumin has seen that look before. It’s way too determined for even his stubborn nature, and it always comes out when you’re about to do whatever you want (a rare delight, given your selfless nature, but one he enjoys every time).
Your hands loop around his neck, and you kiss his cheek. Jumin closes his eyes as you speak softly. “Won’t you tell me what’s bothering you, love?”
It’s amazing that you think anything could bother him when you’re this close, calling him that. 
“Just a nightmare,” he says softly, but you clearly don’t buy it.
“I have nightmares too, it’s very rare that one of them affects me that much after I wake up.”
“A bad nightmare.”
The other version of you flashes in his head again. You’re fucked up, Jumin. But she’s not you, and even though he thinks for a terrible second that you’re going to shove him away, you pull him in for a hug instead, warm and welcoming and cozy. The scent of your nameless-brand shampoo fills his senses—it makes him desperately want to go back to bed.
“Please,” you breathe on his neck. “That’s what you were saying last night. Please, Mother. Please, no. Please, don’t leave me.” 
His hands grip the back of your shirt.
“Please talk to me, Jumin,” you plead. “Please.”
Somehow, he has to keep from crying this time. How pathetic can one man be? But he also has to acquiesce to your request, because you’re you, and he cannot deny you no matter how hard he tries. If you want him bare, you shall have him bare. If you want him destroyed, he will destroy himself in an instant. 
“Alright,” he concedes, trembling.
Not wanting the kitchen, where you and him cook together and laugh together (and a couple other things too), to become associated with these tainted memories, he guides you to the couch, hands holding yours. You promptly get into your favorite position, on his lap with your knees on each side. With a sigh, he rests his head on your shoulder, the fabric of your shirt seemingly smoothing out the creases in his forehead.
Your lips on his skin and your whispered words of encouragement give him a courage he wasn’t aware he possessed. Jumin talks.
“You have not met my mother yet. There is…good reason for that. A week before our wedding, she sent me the profile of a woman she wanted me to marry. I refused, of course. But that is the first time she has reached out to me in years.” He clears his throat. “She and I did not have a pleasant relationship. I think some part of me was very disappointing to her, because instead of giving her the true challenge of parenthood I molded to exactly what she wanted me to be. She recognized that I was…abnormal.”
In the span of a few seconds, your eyes have hardened more than he’s ever seen them harden before. This isn’t determined. This isn’t even pissed. This is raw anger.
“Abnormal?” There’s a bite to your words. “Is that her way of saying she was blessed with an intelligent, kind child?”
“You are kind,” Jumin whispers, cupping your chin to press a short kiss to your lips. “As a child, I was perhaps more robotic than I am now. I took to the world of business rather quickly.”
“You were brilliant, Jumin. Were and still are.”
If he kisses you after your every reassurance, the two of you will never leave this couch (not that he necessarily minds that idea). The more disturbing risk is that he will break down in front of you, if he starts elaborating, not to mention when he begins to talk about his stepmother as well.
But that’s a risk that Jumin can now accept. He understands now, that he hasn’t known love before you, and that there will be a great many times he will feel afraid, but he also knows that there is no one in the world he trusts more. 
Taking a deep breath, he continues.
///
Jumin is addicted—addicted—to making you cum.
The face you make when you orgasm—eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream, head thrown back—is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life. He considers spending eternity with his head between your legs, recklessly licking you to completion again and again.
The sounds you make—God. They have him rolling his hips against the sheets, so close to finishing just from your taste. It’s an obsession now, one that’s been growing ever since you two were married. A stressful day or a bad meeting or even projects being set back for whatever reason, Jumin can get all that frustration out as long as you allow him to spread your legs and devour you. As long as you squeal on his tongue, make a mess of his face, cum on his lips once or twice or more. He only stops when you beg him to. 
He could taste you forever.
But he reconsiders this commitment after he experiences the feeling of you coming on his cock once more.
A choked cry escapes him when he feels your walls clench around him. For a second, he can’t move, too lost in the way your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin. It’s the most pleasurable pain he’s ever had the fortune of experiencing.
“Ju-min,” you whine, legs clasping around his waist as he continues to thrust lazily, seeking his own release, “more, please.”
It really is always nice to know that he’s not the only one affected, enthralled and addicted to this madness.
///
Returning home to silence is still better than returning home to the sound of soft crying.
Jumin is on high alert in an instant, not bothering to take his suit or even his shoes off. You’re curled up on the couch, wiping your cheeks aggressively when you catch sight of him.
“J-Jumin, I didn’t hear you come in. Um…” You swallow, dried tears still obvious on your face. “I haven’t made anything, let me call the chef.”
He crosses the rug over to you almost blindly. There’s nothing else in his head, only you—your tears—you’re crying—you’re crying and he wasn’t here. His hands cup your face, wiping another fresh tear that rolls down your cheek as you look up at him, shaking.
“Who did it?” There’s a white-hot anger pulsing inside of him. He never sees you cry. “Tell me who I need to kill.”
A soft gasp escapes you, and you shake your head frantically as he sinks to his knees, taking your hands in his own and pressing reverent kisses to your knuckles. “N-no one did anything—I promise I’m fine, h-honey, please get up—“
Your laptop is set to the side, but the only thing on it is an email draft, giving him no clues at all. The last thing he desires is for you to have to recount that which distresses you, but he wants, needs, to ensure that you never get upset again.
“My love,” he swears, pressing his palms to yours, “please, tell me what happened. Was it something I did? One of the employees in the building?”
You whisper frantically, “No,” but even as you do another fresh wave of tears drip down your face.
Jumin wants to scream, wants to hurt someone, whoever is responsible, but he’s helpless, and so he lets intuition guide him, rising up until he’s next to you on the couch, and he’s pulling you in.
With a firm grip on his suit, you bury your face in his chest, shoulders shaking. In this moment, he recalls the predicament from that night, when the roles were reversed. How you’d simply let him cry, and held him all the while. Is he capable of…can he possibly bring you the same peace you bring him? Could you allow him to comfort you in the same way?
No matter what, he’s going to try. Anything for you.
Placing a kiss to your hair, he tightens his arms around you and murmurs sweet nothings, making sure you hear all of them. Everything from you’re the strongest person i know to i’m here for you, my love, i’ll be with you till the end of time.
“It’s just so much,” you finally hiccup, sniffing, “I’m busy all the time, they dump every project on me, I never get a chance to just take some time for myself and breathe! I’m always on some call, writing some email, visiting some area, I just want it all to stop. And you’re busier than me, and you do it so effortlessly, I can’t imagine how pathetic I must look compared to you.”
“You’re worth a hundred of me.” His voice is fierce, and he meets your eyes with his entire honest conviction. “Nothing about you is pathetic. You…you’re hardworking, you’re talented, you’re brave, and you’re the kindest person I know. I do not deserve you. I’ve never deserved you.”
“Please don’t say that,” you whimper, face still wet. He squeezes you tighter.
“I apologize. This isn’t about me. You need a break, sweetheart. Please, just request a week or at least a day off.”
“Jumin, I can’t—”
“I’ll request off too. Whenever you get a break, I’ll schedule one at the same time, and then I’ll take you wherever you desire, or we can simply spend it in the penthouse, and lay in bed all day. Or I could buy your company,” he half threatens, half jokes.
You let out a weak laugh, sinking into him, but he feels the tension in your shoulders release just slightly. Placing a kiss at the top of your head, he quickly texts for the chef to come by within the next hour, then tosses his phone aside to hold you better, which is when he catches sight of your own phone. On the screen is an image of the chatroom—a screenshot, he realizes, since his own messages are in it and he hasn’t been on the messenger today.
Your gaze follows his, and a slight smile finally forms on your face. “Messages from when we first met. Ah, the day I came to your apartment, I think.”
Oh, no. To put it lightly, those days were not a good time for him (although he’d never say such a thing, because he finds it cruel to say that some of the hardest days of his life included the one where he met the most wonderful woman in the world). Heaven knows what foolish things he’d said, he’s tried to block out most of the times that didn’t include the sight of you in front of him.
“They calm me down,” you admit softly, “the screenshots I have. I’m glad I took them, I have almost a hundred pictures that remind me of all the butterflies I would get when I talked to you. Knowing you’re my husband is the biggest calm of the storm.” Your cheeks are still stained with tears, but in your eyes is a newfound admiration as you and him look at each other, as though you have all the time in the world.
Jumin’s heart seizes.
“I’ll request a week off.” You reach up, a thumb on his cheek. “Thank you, Jumin.”
Surely, he thinks, being needed by you is the best experience of all.
///
“Thank you.” Your voice breaks the silence, muffled on his skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”
Your husband kisses you, impatient as always, and you adore it.
“You’re welcome,” he breathes.
1K notes · View notes
perlelune · 5 months
Text
no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | vi.
Tumblr media
Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
Tumblr media
An eternity seems to fly by as you wait for Coriolanus to do what you’re too terrified to do on your own. During the agonizing minutes, you picture William’s face. The confusion, the hurt. Tears skip down your cheeks as you curl over the blankets, knees against your chest.
Hopefully your reckless actions haven’t ruined what you two have. Maybe one day, you’ll even jest about it, the pre-wedding jitters that caused you to hide for a week.
It’s the meager hope you cling onto as the soft tap on the door draws you from your thoughts.
Coriolanus nudges the door open, a silver tray between his hands. A matching porcelain kettle and cup sit on the tray.
The mattress sinks as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing the steaming teapot at your bedside. Your gaze drags over the colorful roses painted on the porcelain set. 
Tearful eyes rising to his face, you ask “H-How did it go?”
His long fingers drape over your cheek, wiping your tears as he smiles down at you. “Everything’s alright.” His deep soothing voice brings you comfort as it rolls over you. “Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, just like I promised you.” He collects the tea cup from the tray. The steam rising from it caresses your face.
“It’s my own personal blend of chamomile, peppermint and lavender, for your nerves.”
“I don’t need that.”
Concern sways in Coryo’s blue orbs, his thumb collecting another stray tear.
“You had an emotional day. It’ll help you sleep, trust me.”
You don’t reply, laying the side of your face against the pillow. Do you even deserve to sleep soundly after causing the people in your life so much unnecessary distress?
Maybe this is what you deserve, unending nights wrestling with your own mind while you drown in a river of your own tears. After all, if you hadn’t overindulged in alcohol that night, you wouldn’t be here. You still remember the way Coryo described it. Were you truly that desperate to bury Sejanus’ memory, to forget?
Coriolanus strokes the crown of your head.
“I just want you to get one good night of rest. You need it. Do you really want to spend the entire night torturing yourself when you’ve done nothing wrong?”
For a while, silence hangs between the two of you, Coriolanus letting you weep as he patiently cups your face. The aromatic scents of the herbs he mixed in the tea tickle your nose. You have to admit, it smells heavenly. Like peace. The thing you’re craving most at this very moment. For your thoughts and emotions to fall silent, allowing you to drift into a dreamless slumber.
So you surrender.
You sit up and graciously accept the cup Coryo offers you. As soon as the first few drops of the warm liquid coat your tongue, a heady, pleasant feeling swaddles your mind. It makes your body feel heavy, pleasant warm tingles swirling over your flesh.
“I’m starting to feel…”
Coryo’s beaming face starts blurring in your line of sight. Your grip on the cup weakens. He assists you in holding it, tipping the rim against your lips so you gulp another sip.
“Drink more. All of it.” You heed his instruction. The drowsiness grows tenfold. Your lids sag. Your body slumps over the pillows. You feel the soft brush of Coriolanus’s lips on your forehead. “Sweet dreams, princess.”
You awake from the best sleep you’ve had in literal weeks, a wide smile stretching over your lips as you unfurl from the sheets.
Unlike the nights before, you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, crying or tossing and turning in bed.
You pivot to the sun rays spilling from between the curtains. You bask in the rejuvenating warmth kissing your skin. For a while, you stay like that, in awe that your mind isn’t crowded with anxious thoughts. Instead, you’re calm, rested, your head light as feathers. Even your grief is a faint noise when it’s usually so loud, its uproarious presence twisting your heart first thing most mornings. 
It’s a newfound serenity you haven’t known in many weeks.
Even the bone-deep ache sitting in your limbs cannot cast a pale on the day. As you step in the rose-scented bath that’s been drawn for you, the soreness lingers. You grimace a little.
Perhaps you slept so heavily, your entire body is tense from it.
But as you lie back and let the hot water work its magic, the pain starts to fade. You let the strange sensation melt away, smiling once more.
You enjoy your bath. A bright, wonderful day awaits you.
When you’re done, you put on one of your favorite day dresses and hop down the stairs.
You find the entire Snow clan having breakfast in the dining room.
Coriolanus peeks from above the morning paper, his face brightening as his gaze flicks over you.
As you approach the empty chair near Grandma’am, Coriolanus rises and pulls it for you.
“Good morning,” you chime while plopping into your seat.
Tigris beams at you. “Good morning. I see someone’s feeling better.”
You tuck your hands into your lap as a maid places a scrumptious plate of eggs and meat in front of you. Your stomach growls at the sight and you pick up your fork, excited to dig into the food. You haven’t had a proper meal since you left Ma and Dad’s house.
Although, even that is a fuzzy memory, as you can’t remember the last time all of you sat down and had a proper breakfast as a family since Janus passed away.
It’s been too hard.
Shoving the fork into your mouth, you acquiesce, “Much better.” You hum as the flavors melt on your tongue.
The corner of Coriolanus’s lip quirk as he observes you. He returns to his seat and bends forward.
“I take it you’ve had a restful night, princess?”
“Yes, and I have you to thank for that. I don’t know what’s in that tea exactly but it works wonders.”
“I’ve had the opportunity to experiment with many natural remedies while working under Dr Gaul.” A glint dances in his blue eyes. “Some plants have the most…fascinating benefits.”
“I think I’ll take some with me home, if you don’t mind. Not just for me but Ma has struggled with sleep ever since…”
Your voice dwindles as an abrupt wave of sadness passes over you.
Tigris grabs your hand and squeezes it across the table.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Coriolanus nods in agreement. “She’s right. Take it one day at a time, princess.”
You ponder what he just said. You are feeling markedly better today, but you loathe thinking about your mom and dad alone.
You swallow a wide lungful.
“Maybe I should go back home tomorrow.”
Coriolanus’ gaze narrows, his smile vanishing momentarily before sliding back into place.
“This early? Shouldn’t you rest a bit more first? It’s clear that you need it.” He studies you for a long time. “You can’t be here for others when you aren’t healed yourself.” You shudder. Sometimes the blond seems to possess the uncanny ability to peer right inside your head. He reaches over the table to place his hand over yours. “Don’t rush it. Like I told you before, our home is your home.”
You don’t find it in yourself to argue, Coriolanus’ gentle yet firm grip on your hand and his smile chasing away your doubts.
“O-Okay.”
Satisfaction glimmers in his gaze at your response.
As Coryo advises, you remain with his family a little while longer. Everyday, he finds gentle words to convince you to extend your stay. It doesn’t take much for you to believe him as you trust him fully, his caring demeanor reminding you of your brother. If Coryo thinks you need a bit more time, he must be right. He only wants what’s best for you.
So a few days turn into a week, which eventually becomes two weeks. Surprisingly, you and the Snows’ daily routines twine with ease. In the morning, you have breakfast together in the dining room. Then you tend to the roses with Grandma’am while she hums songs to herself, an endearing habit you’ve grown quite fond of.
And you usually spend the rest of the day with Tigris, chatting or playing board games, or on your own, reading most of the time. Coriolanus’ library is massive enough to rival the one you have at home. You never run out of things to do in the gigantic penthouse, even sometimes cleaning and cooking to pass the time, efforts Coriolanus never fails to praise you for.
Whenever he returns home to a spotless house or one of your delicious meals, his blue eyes light up with happiness.
And of course, at night, Coryo talks to you in your bed while you dutifully drink your tea, regaling you with stories about his apprenticeship and the University. Most of the time, you never get to learn how they end because you fall asleep.
Thanks to Coriolanus’ herbal mixture, your sleeping schedule is back to relative normalcy. The only downsides are the tea’s peculiar side effects, as near everyday you wake up sore and aching. But the slight inconvenience is minor compared to the benefits you’ve experienced.
All is good and well until one day glimpses of lost memories flash in your brain.
You’re starting to remember the night of Clemensia’s party.
It first happens as you’re gardening with Grandma’am. You’re watering one of the rose bushes when something rushes back to you, something so vivid the watering can in your hand clatters to the ground.
You stumble back, your breaths quickening. Placing a hand between your shoulder blades, Grandma’am helps you find your way to a nearby bench. You collapse atop the bench, your mind whirling.
Her wrinkled features crease in concern.
“Are you alright, sweet girl? Should we call a doctor?”
“I’m fine, grandma’am. Just got dizzy for a bit.”
You smile, hating that you just lied to the older woman. You’re not fine. You’re starting to remember things, things that don’t match up, make no sense.
Terrible things.
I knew you’d feel just perfect around me.
Chills bounce across your spine. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the bench as your breath flows back to your lungs.
You come to a decision. 
You need to talk to Coriolanus. 
Tumblr media
Your brows squeeze together in frustration as the balding man checks your pulse and shines a light in your eyes again. It’s the third time tonight. Coriolanus insisted upon it.
“I told you there was no need for a physician, Coryo.”
“Grandma’am said you almost passed out,” the blonde retaliates.
You heave out a deep exhale as you glance at Tigris and Grandma’am standing nervously by the wall. They’re wearing the same concerned expression. 
You wished Grandma’am hadn’t made such a big deal of your little moment in the garden. You feel fine…well, physically at least.
You flash a feeble smile at Coriolanus.
“I didn’t…it was just a dizzy spell. Nothing honestly.”
Brows knitting, he turns to the bespectacled older man at his side.
“Doctor?”
As the man nearly approaches you again, you shoot him a warning glare. You refuse to be poked and prodded once more. Lifting his hands, the man falls back.
He adjusts the stethoscope around his neck.
“I see nothing wrong,” he says. Your shoulders sag in relief. “Still, I’d recommend that your wife takes it easy, sir.”
His words make every hair on your skin stand on end.
“I’m not his wife,” you snap.
Coriolanus’ jaw ticks. 
He turns to the others and instructs, “Everyone, leave us alone.”
There’s a flicker of hesitation on Tigris’ face. She lingers at your doorstep after Grandma’am and the doctor take their leave.
“Are you really sure that you’re okay?” she asks.
You purse your lips. “I’d feel better if everyone stopped fussing over me.”
She nods before leaving as well.
As soon as the door to your bedroom closes, Coriolanus sinks to one knee in front of you. He takes your hands in his, his thumbs brushing circles into your skin.
His cobalt eyes are wide and worried.
“Is something wrong?”
Your stomach knots. “Coriolanus…”
“Yes?”
You draw your hands back, placing them on your lap. His gaze tracks the tiny motion and he squints. 
“That night…” You lick your lips, nerves flaring as your fingers bounce. Just these two words have Coriolanus’ attention on you sharpen in a way that turns your blood to ice. Still you gather your courage and continue, “Did I say no at any point, tried to…stop it? Did…Did you, Coryo?”
The moment your doubts are uttered aloud, you loathe yourself. It’s an awful thing to even suggest. But you can't shake the feeling that there is something Coriolanus isn’t telling you. 
And maybe you always felt that way, like something isn’t quite right, but you craved so badly to have a piece of your brother near that you ignored the glaring signs. 
Shock paints Coriolanus’ handsome face.
“What? I already told you everything that happened, that I was drunk, we both were.”
You peer at Coriolanus. It hurts. So goddamn much. A knife twisting in your chest, again and again. Especially that look of utter betrayal on his face. You don’t want to casually toss those kinds of accusations at your friend. 
But your mind…
It’s bursting at the seams, moments you’re beginning to recall seeping through the cracks. You can’t ignore that. Not the sick echo of Coriolanus’ lustful tone. Not the terrifying glint swaying in his blue eyes. Not the way he panted and grunted above you as you told him to stop. Or at least you think you told him?
You’re not even sure. You’re torn. Coriolanus wouldn’t do that…right? Someone you trust. Someone Sejanus trusted…with you.
Tears swell in your eyes, threatening to break past the confine of your lashes.
Anger flashes in Coriolanus’ eyes. “Really?” he scoffs, bolting to his feet. “You don’t trust me?”
He blurs in your tear-stained vision, distorting to hazy colors you don’t recognize anymore.
“Coryo…” you sob.
He hunkers in front of you again. The anger vanishes, making space for disappointment and sadness.
He cradles your face, his tone softening.
“I would never hurt you,” he mumbles. “How could you even imply…after everything I’ve done for you.”
A shaky breath flutters through your lips. You search Coriolanus’ face, hoping to find something. A truth, an emotion, a lie. Anything, really. Any proof that you’re not crazy, that your mind isn’t just spinning wild stories out of thin air.
Nothing comes up. Coriolanus’ face is a perfect mask of genuine concern and sincerity, right down to his glistening gaze. Doubts even begin to creep inside you beneath his intense stare. 
But the longer you look into his eyes, the more unnerved you grow. 
Something is off. No one can convince you otherwise. Not anymore.
Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.
“I-I think I need to go home now, Coriolanus.”
You don’t want to be here anymore, in this house you don’t know, with this man…you’re beginning to realize you don’t know either.
You want to be back home, your real home. You crave the safety of your own bed, of Ma’s warm embrace, of the familiar walls of your childhood home.
Instead of acknowledging what you just said, Coriolanus flashes you a bright grin.
“We can discuss it tomorrow.”
A sinking feeling spreads through you. You frown.
“But Coryo-”
He leans to place a tender kiss on your forehead and you freeze. Every cell in your body longs to flinch away from him but gut-gripping fear keeps you in your spot.
“Tomorrow, princess,” he whispers. He fondles your cheek. You can’t tamp down your shudder. Coriolanus’ brow pinches as he gets to his feet. “It’s getting late. You should go to bed.”
Coriolanus heads for the door. 
“Sweet dreams,” he coos, smiling. But it doesn’t reach his eyes. 
When the door slams shut, a sound you never heard before echoes from outside. The sound of a key slotting and turning inside a lock. The kind of sound suggesting you’re now trapped in the room.
Your gut sinks.
You find yourself wondering; will tomorrow ever come?
775 notes · View notes