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subskz · 1 year ago

Text

…i lost the tag limit war

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

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

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

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

word count : 20k

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

part two

You have always been first in your class.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"I have an idea."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

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

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

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

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

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

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

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

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

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

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

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

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

"And right now, how do you feel?"

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

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

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

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

"I do too."

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

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

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

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

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

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

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

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

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

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

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

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

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

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

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

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

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

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

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

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

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

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

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

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

"What's there to miss?"

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

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

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

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

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

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

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

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

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

"What did you use?" you ask quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll ask her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I only tell my friends."

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

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

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

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

"You'll catch a cold."

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

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

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

"Yn, I don’t-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure."

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Never."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was something friends think about, right?

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

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

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

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

"I’ll still cut it."

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

He didn't cut his hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

2 months later

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

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

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

"What are you doing?"

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

"Don't mind me. Do your thing."

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

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

"Nope."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not like that you look scary."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?"

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

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

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

"You didn't," you reply instantly.

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

"I will."

"Okay."

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

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

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

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

That's four seconds more than the first time.

Progress.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She deleted your number.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yn-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, let me make it better."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It will take time."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

#FINALLY!!! turning the lights down low scattering rose petals lighting candles…my date w invisible thread is upon me at last 🥰#also i’m doing a sahar-style live reaction so apologies if i comment on literally every little thing that happens hehe im excited #hitting me w the clay metaphor right off the bat...i'm in awe of how perfectly you described childhood development w just a single analogy #molding the reader when she’s young n impressionable and leaving those imprints to harden beyond repair even after she's grown #what a beautifully melancholy way to describe her relationship w her mother and how it affects her view of herself i love it so much ㅠ #lesm inho. leemingo. LEMINHO!!! THE LAZY SMILE NOO U ALREADY GOT ME 😭😭😭 it’s so fucking over and i only just started oh my god #his eyes being the first thing she notices when they meet…the reader is just like me fr but describing them as black holes that draw her in #is making me crazy IT’S SO TRUE!!!! the most mesmerizing eyes known to man that warp space n time this comparison is absolutely stunning #the chill in his hand reminding her of a horrible memory like that 😞 so heartbreaking but also such a clever way to give insight into #the reader's character as well as insight into the the type of relationship she n lino will have and how it will likely resurface old wound #“u weren't sure what u would find on the other side nor did u have any desire to find out” u conveyed the odd magnetism of his eyes SO WELL #im very glad she got a higher grade than him i was not prepared for the smugness that would ensue if he beat her -_-; but a detail i really #adore is how casually lino takes the loss i feel like it goes to show that he truly doesnt have any ill intent despite being so provocative #the cat cafe is called limbo PLEASE THATS SO CUTE 😭 lino mimicking her words…n dodging the pillow i cant stand him actually #to be minho is to be insufferable and get away w it…she should throw a brick at his head next (<- madly in love)#oh my god the part where he laughs at her for hitting her head but from that point on covers that edges of the tables to protect her 😭😭😭#i’m going to be sick to my stomach thsi is the most minho expression of care on earth. all the careful linoisms u included are killing me ㅠ #comparing his eyelashes to the wings of a butterfly ARE U KIDDING!! that has me clutching my heart it's such delicate n gentle beauty #i love that he’s just as competitive as the reader but in a much more lighthearted way…he sees it almost like a game whereas she sees it as #a very serious demonstration of her worth. minho eventually becoming the one she wants to prove herself to rather than her mother #is so intensely sweet and heartwrenching at the same time ): in just a few months he's shown her a healthier love than her mother ever did #THEIR FIRST SNOW TOGETHER NONONO 😭 this entire scene has me inconsolable oh my god LINO W HIS SNOWBALL HE IS SO ANNOYINGLY CUTE #“u cant decide if ur shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him” critical hit on my heart…u painted such a #lovely picture of his laughter i can clearly envision his wild giggles and the way his entire body laughs w him when he’s really excited ㅠ #I WAS GONNA COMMENT ON THE SNOW NOT SPARKING THAT SAME AWFUL MEMORY THIS TIME 😭 his laughter brought her so much warmth she didnt even have #the chance to think abt it i'm so devastated by this parallel…little by little she’s healing w him and melting the frost her mother left #the way the reader grabs her fork to threaten him like he did w the spoon HELP theyre rubbing off on each other without even realizing it #every character detail u included is so well thought out u did a brilliant job ㅠㅠ it makes them human and the story all the more immersive #lino letting her eat first while he cooks the meat and him blushing everywhere when she feeds him MY BABY 😞💔 he thinks he’s so slick…#asking how she’d dispose of a body over dinner…lee minho master of romance everyone 🙏 but literally OF COURSE HE WOULD

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hoshigray · 5 months ago

Note

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!”

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure.

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby.

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet.

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room.

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff.

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now!

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows.

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.”

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold.

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie.

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes.

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly. “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by.

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies.

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit.

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!”

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.”

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more.

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?”

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure.

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance.

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

“Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict.

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity.

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.”

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax.

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth.

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior.

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub.

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane.

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?”

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh.

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

3K notes · View notes

slttygeto · 1 year ago

Text

SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.

synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.

c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.

word count: 2,1k

note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.

ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )

In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.

“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.

“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.

“First movie, pretty iconic.”

“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.

The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.

“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.

“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.

“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.

“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.

“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.

“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.

“Just saying.”

You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.

“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.

A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.

“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?

“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.

You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.

“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.

“Sugu—“

“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”

Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm,”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”

“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.

“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.

“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.

“Nightmare on Elm Street,”

“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.

“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”

He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.

Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.

“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.

“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.

You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.

“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.

“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.

“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.

“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.

He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.

Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.

You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.

Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.

“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.

“Let’s do it again, yeah?”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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#moon's works #yoooou're deaaaad and burieddd darling--AND BRICKED HELLO?#enjoy this because I did too #ghostface suguru my love #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto smut #geto x reader smut #jjk geto #jjk smut #jjk geto suguru #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut

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milk-ducts · 1 year ago

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might delete ,, its been fucking ages since ive touched an art program so . it didnt come out as good and im not proud of how the face turned out so wonky 😭

its a quick messy doodle of a buffed out mark w a longer hairstyle <3 begging the showrunners 2 give him these side bangs .. please !! my baby would look so good w them. u could interpret this as an older ver of him,, tho hes still got that baby face

without the shine .. hehe .. he looks better like this .

#invincible #invincible season 2 #invincible spoilers #mark grayson #omni man #fuck you tumblr for ruining the already shitty quality i hope u rot in hell #FOR THE RECORD … I DIDNT GET HIS COSTUME WTONG #THE YELLOW PART IS A PART OF HIS MASK ! im just very intelligent and cool like tjat..#digitial art #fanart #illustration #my art #i was too afraid to fully render the face so i left it semi cell shaded im sorry #invincible fanart #invincible show

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mondaymelon · 14 days ago

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— pocky for the malipo ⭑.ᐟ

⟶ ( kinich x gn!reader )

— in which... hey, does this even count as a kiss...?

— speedran this filler post for pocky day + kinch's birthday.. its single day too LMAO the coincidences are simply uncanny ..

— starts out w mualani + kinich for context , fluff !! reader likes sweets,, ...tw... use of the word orbs..

“awwww, c’mon!! it’ll be fun, i promise…”

mualani jumps up and down vigorously, her expression slowly growing more and more dejected. “the traveler told me all about it- this otherworldly tradition, y’know, with those little sweet stick thingies, they even gave me a box! it’d be a reallll big shame to waste ‘em, and wouldn’t it be super cool to do?”

recently, mualani had grown very invested in the idea of some date called “pocky day.” these sorts of random hyperfixtations happened just about every other day, but this time the obsession lasted a linger longer than most, all because of some eavesdropping on the traveler, who offhandedly mentioned it in some conversation… anyway, now that the day itself had arrived, 11/11, she was more excited than ever.

“just onnncee..! pretty please, kinich… xilonen? sharky??” seeing that no one here was willing, except for sharky, who wagged his tail in approval, mualani let out a wail.

kinich stared at her with a tired gaze, sighing slowly. “well, i don’t see how-”

“oHHH my aRCHONS, kinich, how are you so BORING?? when i contracted with this stupid guy, YOU, i thought itd be a little more fun than rotting in a cave ALLL day long but APPARENTLY not!!? live a little uGHHGH, you emo little ‘oooohh look at me im so distant and mysterious’ shut UPPP…” ajaw popped out of nowhere, face red and pixelated hands waving back and forth angrily. “c’mooon, surely you aren’t stupid and blind enough to see that this is the literally PERFECt opportunity to smoochy smoochy kiss kiss that one person you've been OGLING with those big ORBS of yours huh????”

kinich opened his mouth to say something, but then paused. mualani watched with bated breath, squeezing sharky in her hands in anticipation, eyes sparkling, gaze screaming “oh????”.

“...well… i guess… hmph, even someone like ajaw makes a point sometimes, huh…?” kinich coughed into his fist sheepishly, a barely noticeable blush dusting his cheeks. “though, i’m not ‘ogling’ them at all, ajaw- it’s- well, i’m just observing them. for a commission.”

“suuuUUUReeee palllll, whatever you say- YOU REALLY DIDN’T THINK I’D SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, DID YOU??? BLABLABLA LALALA I’m RIGHT AHAHAHH THATS RIGHT IM RIGHT IM-”

kinich swatted ajaw out of the air, in the way one would with a buzzing fly. he flew through the air, disappearing into the horizon with a sparkle.

“...ahem. mualani, i’ll be heading out now.” kinich turned around calmly, as if he hadn’t just committed battery. "if i may, could i get one of those ‘pocky’ you were talking about? i’ll repay you.”

"hehe... no need for repayment, just tell me how it goes later!" mualani, smug and beaming, handed over one of the boxes.

..and so the time had come.

"kinich?" glancing up from your work, you flashed him a smile. "what's the matter?"

well, it wasn't as if the saurian hunter didn't see you out often- he did. this little nook you had in the scions of canopy was, as kinich put it, "on the convenient way back" for all of his missions, and so the male found most evenings swinging by (pun intended).

no, him coming wasn't the issue here. but kinich had been uncharacteristically.. avoidant of your gaze. for the past five minutes he had been there, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame like they do in those inazuman light novels, he'd been staring at a crack in the floorboards. and to make matters more concerning, he had something strange in his hands too: some sort of box that he kept flipping around with his fingers.

"hey. kini'. we're both not great at words, so just tell me and get.. well, whatever it is. you wanna say over with." at the mention of his nickname, kinich perked up, clearing his throat.

"ah, that..."

ohh, so there was the problem. the eerily quiet atmosphere was because ajaw wasn't present... pause, now you were even more worried. kinich had somehow gotten ajaw off his ass?? unthinkable????

"is it an emergency? fuck, are we all going to die? tell me this type of thing earlier, kini', i need to pack all my-"

"what? no- i, mualani.. she, no, there's this holiday, today. the traveler mentioned it, and i thought it'd be fun to try out.. you like sweets too, so. here." kinich unearthed some sort of... stick? was he really trying to feed you sticks? c'mon now, you weren't that stupid-

"i can read your gaze. it's not like that. here, it's chocolate, just- hah..." kinich sighed, eyebrows pinched together, wearing the expression of someone watching everything go wrong. "give it a taste?"

you eyed him skeptically, before taking the stick out of his hands and taking a bite.

"...sweet."

"yeah?"

"not a stick."

"...yes."

"...give me another."

"not so fast, we need to play the game first." kinich took one of the sticks and put it into his mouth, all of a sudden looking a lot more... guilty? you couldn't quite pinpoint the expression on his face, something you'd been doing with a 30% success rate (the highest any natlanian had ever achieved). "whoever gets the last bite wins."

"...i'm just supposed to. eat the other end?"

"what, you can't?" the slight teasing edge in his voice reminded you of ajaw (just the slightest) and you immediately became exponentially irritated.

"hah, who said that? bet."

"..."

oh, so now he chose not to break eye contact.

"...a-hey, we're getting a little close, aren't we.."

"...if you wanna break it off, lose."

"...fuck, you-"

you grabbed him by the cheek, pushing yourself forward and, admittedly, forcefully touching your lips against his. whether by the suddenness or whether by the fact that you two had, well, "kissed," the esteemed malipo kinich let out what sounded like a sputter and fell backward, hands barely catching him from falling to the ground. sitting himself down, he looked up at you with flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, and the edge of his lips smudged with chocolate.

"bleh. i win." sticking out your tongue, you motioned with your hands. "the whole box, it's mine now. winner takes all, or whatever they say in mondstadt."

kinich's gaze was observant, and under it you felt your face slowly begin to warm, realizing what you had just done.

"not so fast." kinich stood back up, recomposing himself in a matter of seconds.

"one more round. you caught me off guard."

(a/n) and then reader and kinich smoochy smooch smooch kiss kissed and single day was no longer single and happy birthday kinich really did become happy for kinich fuck when am i going to find me a partner <- has unrealistic expectations

context notes!! :

ajaw purposefully left kinich alone so that he could do his.. idk if you can call it flirting. pocky game w you. best wingman ajaw we all cheer (in reality he was tired of seeing kinich act all lovey dovey whenever you were around and found the tension suffocating so he decided to take matters into his own hands)

taglist (comment to be added / send in an ask on my sb): @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @umiloa, @intpessimistic, @keiiqq, @intpessimistic, @eutopiastar, @matcha-mintea

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loveanddeepdick · 1 month ago

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Please could I get anything to do with an obsessed geto when he’s feeling jealous/possessive- I’m a new follower and I love your obsessed geto work😩

hii anon i’m saurrr excited this is my first req! so ask and you shall receive! if u guys want more then just lmk >.<

obsessed!geto x f!reader || no genitalia is present but I marked it f!reader because shoko and geto refer to you with feminine terms, continuation of my previous obsessed!geto post

cw and notes: sfw but suggestive, geto is extremely possessive and jealous on the dl, SHOKO AND HIGURAMA CAMEO YAY, mentions of handcuffing you, shoko is concerned that geto is too clingy with you hehe

obsessed!geto who sees you talking to higurama at school when while drops off yuji’s items. he watches from the doorway into the courthe knows it’s unreasonable for his blood to be boiling at the sight of you talking to another man but he knows you’re loyal. no matter where you were, you were his girl and he was your man.

higurama’s eyes catches geto’s as he’s closing his conversation with you. both men are silent, staring at each other.

“thanks, hiromi! i’ll see you when yuji comes back from his school trip!”, you waved higurama goodbye, not sensing the eyes burning in your back.

“uh—yeah, i’ll see you”

right as higurama turns around, you yelp, almost dropping the box of yuji’s items when you feel two hands wrap around your waist.

“hi angel”, geto mumbled into your ear. you turn around, meeting the pretty face of your boyfriend. his eyes were closed and his eyebrows were furrowed against your head.

“whats going on, sugu? usually you hate pda”

“just missed you, that’s all”

“is this because of hiromi? are you jellyyy”, you giggle, squeezing his cheek. he gives a low chuckle before nodding his head again.

“aww.. you big ol’ baby, you know you’re the only for me!”

“yeah, i know sweetheart. im the only man for you”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

obsessed!geto who hates when someone actually notices and points out how clingy he can be. of course, geto knows he's possessive and wants to stay as nonchalant as possible but it’s so hard when he finds you so attractive.

it's a friday night in your house and you're laying on the couch with shoko, binging love island season six while snacking on some popcorn. you two are complaining about the men on screen when shoko brings up that geto is as clingy as the men on love island.

“heyy, girl, you know.. suguru is really clingy toward you, don’t you think? i've never seen him act this way", shoko mumbles, letting out a small giggle

geto overhears shoko from the kitchen, stopping in his steps. shoko was his friend too and knows her too well. before he could deject, he hears you instead.

"hm? i don't think he's too clingy. i think it's just right, actually", you reply with a mouth full of popcorn.

"you two talking about me?" geto smiles as he snakes a hand on the nape of your neck and down your back as he approaches you two from behind the couch.

"jeez, give us a warning, suguru. i was just telling your wifey here that you need to lay off her back a little. i mean, you two are way past your honeymoon stage and you're still connected to her as if you're handcuffed or something", shook shrugged.

well that was an idea for later

"shoko, i think i know what's best for my girlfriend. if she wants space, she would've told me", geto plants a kiss before leaving the room again, chuckling at shoko, "maybe find a girlfriend of your own, ierie".

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

after shoko left, it was 1:27am and you were cleaning up the blankets. you felt geto's looming presence in the doorway of the living room as you threw away the unpopped popcorn bits into the trash. you turned your head and he smiled when he noticed that you finally acknowledged him. it was almost eerie the way he could show up, go places, and just stalk there without anyone noticing. you, being his girlfriend, of course became accustomed to it and it didn't scare you anymore.

"hi, baby, not sleeping yet?" you shuffle over in your comfy slippers and give him a small peck on the corner of his mouth before brushing your thumb on his cheek.

"nah.. just waiting for you, angel", geto stepped forward towards you and cupped your face. his calloused hands englufed your cheeks as he looked down at you with an unreadable expression.

"am i too clingy for you, doll? do you want some space?".

geto almost smirked knowing your answer. of course it'd be no. he knew you and had dug up everything about you before you two had officially started dating. it's not like he had to change anything about him, he always was and will be your perfect man.

"mm-mm!", you shook your head, "don't think about was ierie said too much, sugu".

geto visibly relaxed a little. his shoulders slightly came down before his right hand trailed down to your waist and his other hand reached into his pocket to pull out something metal.

you were his. you'd always be his no matter how people looked at you too.

"so... about the handcuff thing that she said earlier.."

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader smut #geto smut #geto suguru #rina journal 📝#obsessed!geto

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bitchimasnake-sss · 7 months ago

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Imagine telling op guys who has a crush on you, that you want to sleep with them. You just plop down next to them cuddle into them and fall asleep. It's just hem turning red and trying to calm down their thoughts

hehe, this is legit so cute. (tweaked the prompt to be a little more suggestive than just thoughts in the end.)

not a dream ft. the monster trio!

set-up: as anon asked! you happened to utter five simple words, "can i sleep with you?" to the op boys (who have a crush crush on you). now these idiots are contemplating if they'd make it out alive. warnings: includes nsfw thoughts!! no actual things happen but the guys are thinking very very perverted shit, so, if not comfortable please skip!!! m.list

luffy:

💗 you know luffy. do you think luffy— the guy who clings to everyone, doesn't know the word "personal" and "space", who will probably hug you even if you threatened to punch him— will really mind if you told him you wanted to sleep with him? fuck no. even if you stood in front of him with a "i like you, i wanna sleep with you" in a suggestive way, he would say something along the lines of "awh, i like you too. let's sleep."

💗 but well, this was different. cause he liked you. so when you decided to show up at his door after dinner with a cranky look, he was both confused and intrigued. "what's wrong with ya?" the captain mumbled as you sat next to him on the bed. "chopper and ussop. ugghhh." you groaned, "they're doing some stupid shit next door and making so much noise. there is no possible way i can sleep there. and im sure nobody else will let me crash with them tonight in their room." luffy would have probably leapt up and gone to join the other two fools had you not sprawled out next to him. you gave him a tired smile, "so, can i sleep with you?" 💗you hadn't even waited for an answer. mindlessly, you draped a hand over his torso and snuggled into his chest. he pulled you towards himself on instinct. this was normal. yeah. hugging a crewate. yeah. totally normal. atleast for him. then why was his heart beating so fast? mouth going dry? why was sweat clinging uncomfortably to his back although he knew the night air was frigid? 💗you shifted and your chest brushed against his. luffy swallowed wantonly as you shifted again. and then one more time. trying to find the most comfortable position, he guessed. mechanically, you pushed yourself further against him. and this motherfucker went as stiff as a washboard. "luffy?" you mumbled against his skin before tracing your eyes upward. from this position, your doe-eyes bore into his, "you don't mind right? it's just really cold, sorry." how could he mind? your soft body was against his. your fingers drummed faint melodies against his back and your hair smelled like some floral scented shampoo. every time you breathed out, the warm air caressed him and goosebumps painted his hands. he felt your peaked chest brush against his again and he almost swallowed his own tongue. "luffy?" you asked again, your voice saccharine. and he vaguely wondered how would the same voice sound if he tore open that flimsy top your were wearing and held your soft skin against his palm. or if he took the courage enough to dip his fingers below the waistband of your pajamas and felt you up. would you say his name like that? 💗 well, fuck. this was the captain had thought so much in his entire life. and they were thoughts about feeling up his crewmate's tits. and, as a result of such vigorous thinking, a problem had arose in his pants. he tried to think it away. tried thinking about sea-kings or hideous devil-fruit users. of alvida. or anyone else. he even tried to think of food so that his attention could be diverted. but even the most tastiest of sanji's pudding couldn't take away the throbbing in his cock. and the delicious feeling of your soft skin next to his. as a last resort, he prayed that you wouldn't shift more and feel his dick against you. he prayed you would take his silence as rejection and simply drift off to sleep. but ofcourse, this is a godless land. because you moved again. and when you felt his hard-on against your thigh, you looked up at him. lips caught between your teeth, blinking up at him almost innocently, you asked, "got a problem, captain?" before he could answer, you pressed forward, "i think i can fix it." on the other side of the ship nami burst into chopper and ussop's room. when she yelled, it probably could be heard over the entire ship, "LET US SLEEP, YOU MORONS. WE HAVE A LONG DAY TOMORROW. GO SLEEP OR I'LL FINE YOU BOTH A MILLION BERRIES PER MINUTE THAT YOU'RE UP." you're not sure if it was chopper or ussop crying in the distance. but oh well, you have a captain to please 🤭

zoro:

💚zoro's not even fucking sure how he ended up like this. he's sure it involved some higher-than-tolerable level of alcohol for both the parties involved. and he's sure it must have been your idea that he had drunkenly complied with. "let's sleep together" "okay" what was he thinking? because right now, you were sprawled against his chest. both of you were on his bed. his shirt was off, yours was barely on. a bit of drool peaked out from the corner of your lips. and he found himself quietly rubbing it away with the pad of his thumb, smiling softly to himself. ew?! was he still drunk?? as the realization set in, he pulled his hands back in wicked horror and looked around as if someone had seen him. it was still night, and in the middle of the night, the effects of the cheap booze must have wore off of him and he awoke to you as his bed. 💚"hey." he tried to shake you awake but you just groaned, sinking further into him. he hissed when you buried your face against his bare skin. he whisper-shouted, ignoring the goosebumps on both of your skins, "wake up. go back to your own room, woman." but you didn't shift an inch. instead, you stayed buried against him. he groaned but when his eyes fell back to your face, he couldn't help but fight off the impending blush that crawled up his face. your hair was a mess and your cheek was squished against his chest. you breathed softly and sometimes, your fingers twitched against his skin and you touched him fleetingly. and you were warm. too warm for his liking. he tried to look away but his hand carefully came up to your face. staying there not a moment too long, he dragged it downwards. over your shoulders and over your back. he stopped before he went too far and grabbed your ass, the curve so delicious in his eyes. but he stopped, pulling his hands back to lay on the linen sheets. he was a horny man, not an evil douche. 💚but you must have been hell-bent in proving flaws in his moral-code, because you shifted and your pelvis shifted over his. he bit back a grunt at the movement over the fabric. you were so cozy against him. the way you brushed up against him, the way your hair tickled him. would you like it if he pulled your hair? would you moan? god, what would you sound if you moaned out his name? he was a bad man. thinking all of those things. and he tried to focus on anything but the blood-rush to his dick, really, but the way you started moving against him, almost mechanically. god. that made all attempts to ignore his boner disappear. his hips moved upwards and he closed his eyes, giving into the friction of you against him. soft moans fell from his lips, hips still moving upwards to graze your clothed thighs. 💚"zoro?" you mumbled sleepily, rubbing your eye. you strained your neck up and he looked down at you, dazed. "you okay, zo?" when he found himself unable to talk and you found a harsh roll of hips under you, you connected the dots. a playful smile tugged on your lips, "need some help?" "no." the swordsman swallowed thickly. "fine." you shrugged, clamoring off him. your hips swayed as you made a futile attempt to find your discarded shorts somewhere in the room. you gave him a lingering look, "i should go back to my room. the crew will freak out if they find us like this." "no." he caught your wrist, tugging you towards him, "stay. i could use some help." 💚in the morning, sanji walked into the swordman's room to see if the moron could find you somewhere since you were nowhere to be found on the ship. what he found, instead, was you and the mosshead tangled in his sheets. when you and zoro had finally made it to the breakfast table, sanji may/may not have been crying. luffy, ussop and chopper were laughing in the background. nami decided it was a good enough reason to even high-five zoro. it was an awkward breakfast.

sanji:

💙sanji was probably in heaven. yes, that's the only explanation. sure, the ship was en route to alabasta but he was on his way to heaven. because there's no way you had come seeking him out in the middle of the night. you had said, "i can't sleep." "oh?" the cook had wordlessly stepped aside and you took on the opportunity to slip in. he shut the door behind you, "can i help you then, love? want me to cook something?" "i would have really not bothered you but i don't know who else to ask. nami and vivi are sleeping together and the bed's not big for the three of us." you rambled, "and zoro probably showered five months ago. and luffy, ussop and chopper are passed out in the common room. so... can i sleep with you?" it's a miracle he didn't pass out on hearing those words. it's an even bigger miracle that that was three hours ago and he had still not passed out. now, sanji lay next to you— as stiff as a corpse— while you snored. your body shifted and your hands reached out towards sanji. your palm ran up and down his torso as to check if he was there. and once you had gotten a confirmation, you scooted in his direction and sanji held his breath as if one wayward puff of air will wake you up. 💙vinsmoke sanji was trying. he was trying o maintain his composure, to not pull you into his chest. he was trying not to think about the way your chest will feel against his, the way his fingers will glide over your thighs, the way your hand will fit around his dic— and it was as if you could hear his wretched thoughts. because your hands moved over his torso. gliding up and down. you leaned into his touch, molding your body against his. you might have been having an interesting dream cause he saw your hips gently rocking, your thighs pressed harder and you eyes clenched shut. you buried your head into his chest and the smell of your shampoo seemed to turn him on more. he ignored his weeping dick, decided to pay it no mind. but all of that resolve crumbled when he heard you moan his name into the fabric across his chest. your nails dug into his shoulders and your nose buried as deeply as it could against his skin. 💙 he gently guided his fingers to your thighs. and you shook under his soft touches. his thumb softly brushed over your clothed pussy and bucked towards his hand. he could probably just feel you up and you'd let him— "—shit." sanji quickly brought his hand back, realizing that you were sleeping and out of it. even if your lips chanted his name, he couldn't do the things his mind was convincing him to do. because if he started, he wouldn't stop. 💙so, to get himself rid of such sinful thoughts, he decided to hide in the shower and pump at his hard cock till he was tired. till you crawled out of his head. till your voice stopped ringing in his ears, making his cock impossibly harder. he slowly pushed you away, trying to climb off the bed. but as soon as you felt his warmth disappear, you cracked open an eye, "sanji?" "uh" his face went red, eyes averting, "just going to the washroom. i'd be back." you sat up, "did i go too far?" sanji's mouth hung agape as you pulled him back into bed, "i thought you wanted me to moan your name like that—" "—wh-what?" "i had a dream." you innocently traced your index nail down his torso and brushed it over his sleeping shorts, "think you can help me?" you blinked up at him, "pretty please." 💙 the next morning, the cook of the crew made the worst breakfast possible. wasn't his fault. all he could think about was you and your breathless moans and your eyes as— "this tastes like shit." the swordman argued. "thEN MAKE IT YOURSELF, FREELOADER." "might as well if you're gonna cook so bad." "—i think it tastes fine." nami sighed, "if i knew you getting some would make you a terrible cook, i would have let (yn) sleep with me and vivi." and the entire ship choked on their (terrible) breakfast.

a/n: i tweaked the prompt a bit (as i was getting stuck with the original ask), but i hope this was good enough anon!! as always, thanks for reading and send in req that you might have <3 (tagging: @bokutosbiceps cause i know you love luffy) m.list

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hannieehaee · 8 months ago

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GOSH im in love with your writing like YOU HAVE NO IDEA SWEETHEART

And I'm desperate for some friends to lovers with seokmin who begs to taste you, his bff, after you joked about how your friends are saying he would be the best in eating a girl out bc of his nose🫦

18+ / mdi

content: simp!seokmin, bffs2lovers, smut, afab reader, eating out, seokmin's nose, etc.

wc: 682

a/n: HEHE THANK U SO MUCH<33 had to choose these pics bc his nose looked soo good in these i cry T-T

masterlist

"o-oh"

"seokmin, fuck, just forget i said anything," you groaned, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

why did you think it was a good idea to bring up your drunken ramblings to seokmin completely unprovoked?

"n-no! don't be embarrassed. you just surprised me, that's all," he sat next to you on the couch, encouraging you to remove your hands from your face.

"it is embarrassing. i dont want you to think of me as some horny loser lusting after her best friend. i swear, i didnt even bring it up! they were just talking about guys with big noses and you were the first guy that i thought of and-"

"my nose? you thought about how my nose would feel?"

"n-no, i-"

"i, i mean, it's okay if you did," he said, scooting closer to you despite his eyes looking everywhere but into yours.

you decided to take a plunge, turning your body to face his as you looked to him in wonderment.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, uh, i mean that it wouldn't bother me if ... if you thought about me in that way," seokmin winced at himself as the words left him, still unable to look at you.

gulping, you got closer to him, nudging him to turn to you also.

"do you mean that, seokmin? i ... do you-"

"yes," he was firm in his answer, finally looking at you.

"oh ... do you wanna ..."

"yes," he practically whined.

"o-oh, fuck! m-minnie, just like that ... yes!"

"'sso good, shit. so warm ..."

it hadn't taken much encouragement for you to jump seokmin after he'd given you confirmation that he did, in fact, want you in the same way you did him. after aggressively making out for a good ten minutes or so, seokmin had pleaded for you to please open your legs for him and let him have a taste of you. you, being you, needed no convincing to open your legs and guide him where you wanted him most.

by now he had spent the past ten minutes alternating between licking at you and suckling on your clit, but he was yet to show you what his nose would feel like as it slid against your folds.

before you could beg for it, seokmin's strong arms grabbed a hold of your hips and tilted you a bit in order to position his nose in a way that would grace your bundle of nerves just right all the while his tongue continued to explore you.

you screamed the moment you felt his sharp nose drag up and down your cunt, falling in love with its straight shape and the slight slope of it. the sharpness and rough exterior of his nose made you cry out in pleasure. it wasnt long until you began grinding against his face like a maniac, completely ignoring his attempts at guiding you against his face.

grabbing his head, you rubbed him against you while you canted your cunt against his face, tears flowing down your face at the pleasure.

"y-your nose, minnie! o-oh ... so good, fuck. so fucking good ..." you breathed out, followed by many other praised and curses at the pretty boy below you.

he was unable to speak due to the way you had taken over the entirety of his mouth, but his groans of pleasure were enough to get you crying even harder for him.

seokmin continued savagely eating you out while you ground against his nose all the way until your high, somehow managing to speed up his movements the closer you got to your orgasm.

with a silent scream, your fists closed in on seokmin's hair one last time before you dropped limp against your bed.

the room was silent for a few moments while both you and seokmin caught your breaths. but the moment the two of you were apt to speak, seokmin climbed on the bed and began kissing his way up to your lips, giggling at your fucked out state.

"so my nose, huh?" he teased, face scrunched up due to his pretty smile.

"shut up."

2K notes · View notes

taintedcigs · 1 year ago

Text

˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 2; summer breeze — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader x eddie munson

summary: in which some chaos ensues between the boys and billy, and one of the boys finally get what they want; you. (wc: 6.5k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious) kinda fist fight? billy gets punched, im sorry but billy gets punched a lot in my fics, protective steddie hehe, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater and kinda of a mastermind, eddie is a cutiepie.

authors note: not proof-read ignore mistakes ! thank u @andvys for giving me the best ideas always and thank u for helping me! ily and hope u enjoy this mwah!!! also yall know mastermind by ts? and how its kinda supposed to be sarcastic? well i took that song too seriously and literally. listened to a lot of metal and this fic is their love child! enjoy !!

and please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol. 1 here

Fuzzy.

Exactly how your mind and body felt.

You didn’t expect to do that with Steve.

King Steve. You were just supposed to play with him.

He wasn’t supposed to make you feel like this.

And it wasn’t anything, it was purely physical. Or at least that’s what your mind forced you to think.

Because no one had ever made you cum like that before, no one ever attended to you like that before.

Pathetic. Really pathetic. You’ve fucked half the guys in Hawkins, yet one night with Steve, and he didn’t even fuck you, yet that’s all you could think about.

You sucked on the cigarette sitting between your lips, the feeling giving you a lewd reminder of earlier when you remembered how good he felt between your lips, sliding down your throat.

Shit shit shit. Shut the fuck up. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Want something stronger than that?” The voice belonged to the curly-haired boy you were looking everywhere for.

It felt like a fucked up horny deja vu.

Turning around swiftly, the smoke formed around the air between you when you blew it in his face, making him grin. “Eddie!” Your tone gleeful, “Been looking everywhere for you!” Sweet. Sweet but so fucking dangerous. Eddie knew that about you.

He knew about the effect you had on everyone. I mean, he wasn’t complaining, he was right there in line with them. Just to have a glimpse of you.

He and Steve shared one thing in common; you.

Maybe that’s eventually what drew them closer, both boys begging for your attention in every way possible. Pathetic, but you were so tempting.

They teased each other about you, Eddie bragged about the countless times you batted your lashes at him, the countless times you twirled and giggled at him.

and Steve bragged about how you looked at him with your alluring eyes, or how you called him ‘baby’ that one time.

Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve the way he did with you, because Steve usually never got hung up on one girl, it was simple for him, he’d fuck one and then move to another. But you always kept him on his toes. Something no one ever did before. So he always tried and tried, failing regardless.

He didn’t blame him, he’d burn the world down if you asked him to, even though the only interactions he had with you were when you bought something from him, or the countless times you winked at him whenever he saw you around. God, that had him on his knees.

So it was no surprise he almost melted when you said those magical words. You? Looking for him?

“Me?” A rush of bubblegum pink is quick to rise to his cheeks. He can’t help himself, Steve was going to freak out when he found out how you were looking for Eddie. God, he was going to have fun with this.

“Where’s Billy?” He added, trying to sound cool when he lit the freshly rolled joint sitting on his wetted lips.

He was cute. Didn’t even know the rumors, and the blush on his cheeks weirdly had you need him.

“We broke up,” you hummed, and a boyish grin sat on his lips immediately while he noted how you didn’t have a sad bone in your body, that jerk didn’t deserve you. “I’m just having fun now, you know?” You added with a smirk.

You were going to be the death of him. He could be fun, he could be so fucking fun, he could make you feel fun you’ve never felt before.

“Oh, yeah? With who, now?” Shit, shit, shit. That is not what he meant to say, he was an absolute fucking idiot. A grade one asshole.

Your eyes widened when you tilted your head, “are you calling me a slut, Munson?” You snatched the joint from his lips, earning a whine from him as you kept your piercing eye contact.

The pinkish color on his cheeks turned blood red, and you could see him almost fidgeting. Why did you find it so endearing?

“N-no! No that’s not what I meant at all! You’re not a slut! I mean if you want to be you could be— I mean you’re not but—” His words tangled with each other adorably, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle.

“I’m just playing with you!” You playfully nudged his shoulder, adoring the way his grin came back instantly, you took a long drag from the joint before passing it back to him. “Don’t worry, baby.”

Eddie almost lost it at that.

Suck it, Steve. She called him baby, too, and now they were fucking even.

“I’m having fun with everyone that douchebag hates.” You muttered with a smirk.

Eddie desperately needed to make Billy hate him, maybe he could rip him off the next time he brought from him, or maybe he could just… sucker punch him?

“Steve was fun.” You giggled, remembering the way he was so pathetically begging for you to stay. And you had to admit he was good, the best you had in this messed up town.

Eddie blinked quickly, struggling to process what you just said… You.. and.. Steve?

“Steve?” He almost stammered, face growing hot at what you were implying, did that little asshole actually manage to be with you? You?!?

“Steve Harrington?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” you hummed, brows scrunching at his dumbfounded expression… What was going on? Was he… jealous?

“You jealous, Munson?” You giggled with a smirk, brow raised and all bold. So upfront that it has Eddie stammering and blushing all over again.

“N-no, uh— Steve is my friend is all.” He adds, taking a long drag from the joint to keep himself together, he has to look all confident because he wants to impress you.

He just doesn’t know that you being all flustered is what draws your attention. Confident but still cute. The exact mix you need for Steve’s arrogance. And they’re friends? Fuck, just the thought of them together has you rubbing your thighs.

“Oh!” You hum, “That’s funny because I was actually going to go for you, but Steve found me first.” You know the effect that will have on Eddie, you see it in the way he coughs while exhaling the smoke, wetting his lips while he tries to play it cool.

Sadly, it’s all interrupted by the one and only. Billy fucking Hargrove.

His hand roughly makes you turn to him before you can comprehend what’s happening, “Fucking Harrington, really?” He spat in your face, nostrils flaring with how angry he was, but all it did was make you want to laugh in his face—the audacity of this little boy.

Eddie’s quicker than you to react, trying to push him away from you but Billy shakes off his hold. “Get away from her.” Eddie spits. Billy ignores him with a scoff, attention all on you.

You hate the way your stomach flutters at Eddie being protective, what the fuck are these boys doing to you?

“You kiss Tina in front of everyone, and me fucking Harrington is the problem?”

“You fucked him?” Billy lets out through gritted teeth, technically, you didn’t but it seemed like Billy only thought the two of you kissed.

Before you could answer he clenched his fists, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”

Shit. You really didn’t think this through, did you?

A guilty feeling settled into your stomach, Steve didn’t deserve that. And he definitely didn’t deserve to get beaten up because of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed Billy by the arm to stop him from searching for Steve.

“D-don’t!”

“Excuse me?” Billy said, pinching his brows together.

“Please don’t do anything to him.” Eddie watches everything unravel, taken aback by how willing you are to throw yourself under the bus for Steve. It makes his brows furrow and makes him almost get a glimpse of you, behind that cool facade, behind that whole act. It entices him more and more.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Billy scoffs, “You fuck him one time, and look how pathetic you get. No wonder everyone keeps calling you a slut—”

A loud thud resounds in your ears, you barely register what happened before you turn to see Steve shaking off his fist with a smirk on his face. “Don’t fucking call her that again.”

Billy chuckles loudly at the impact, blood quickly dripping down his nose and an obvious red mark bruising his cheek. “My my, Harrington coming to defend his new little slut, huh?”

And this time, another thud of a punch resonated from your side, and you audibly gasp.

Eddie.

These boys were going to be the death of you, appearing out of nowhere and then doing shit like this.

They stood in front of you, arms crossed against their chest as they eyed Billy groaning on the ground, it wasn’t long before Tina came with her annoying shriek and a crowd formed around the four of you, the two boys were quick to drag you out of the party.

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you, sweetheart?” Steve muttered in your ear with his lips twitched into a smirk.

Cocky bastard.

You gave him a slight smile. “Actually… I was looking for this one,” you hummed sweetly, hand gently nudging Eddie’s shoulder. A grin sat on his lips, he itched to elbow Steve, who just gave him a roll of his eyes.

“But, thank you, both.” You give them a shy smile, it’s meaningful, and you’re grateful to have them protect you.

“Anything for our special girl,” Steve winks.

“Want us to take you home?” Eddie interrupts, eyeing you, he can see that you’re a bit shaken up, even though you try to hide it.

“No need, boys. Can walk home!” You giggle with a wink.

“We insist.” Steve steps up, leaning into the car, hips jutted out. All slutty, and it’s tempting. But, no.

You had fucked up enough today and gotten your feelings too involved. You couldn’t do it.

You gave both of them a sloppy kiss on their cheek before you got on your feet, “My house is just around the corner.”

“See you around, boys.” You winked one last time, turning back before they could say anything, walking away with a strut as you could almost feel their gaze burn your back.

Both boys watched you with their jaws almost open, teeth biting onto their bottom lips with hope. They wanted—needed you.

。°。°。°。°。°

“I’m tellin’ you dude, it was fuckin’ unreal. She was just so good,” Steve hummed into the ice cream he took a stripe of lick from.

Eddie grunted. “Jesus, fuck. Still can’t believe she let you even near her.” He glared daggers into him.

Steve grumbled a chuckle, nudging him. “Jealous much, Munson?” His lips curled into a boyish grin, face inches away from Eddie who was now stammering.

“C’mon, we can share, can’t we big boy?” Steve winked, enjoying the crimson red coloring the curly boy’s puffy cheeks.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” He hummed, sucking his cheeks with a ‘mmhmm’ sound as the flavors of the strawberry goodness flooded his senses.

They did have threesomes before, but this was different, this was you. It meant so much more to Eddie, and selfishly, he wanted you to himself first, too.

“If you can even get her,” Steve smirked, knowing if it took him this long, Eddie would have to try for years.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Eddie winked with a new-found confidence

“I’ll turn on the Munson charm.” He snapped his fingers together with a wicked grin, “and she’ll be beggin’ for me in no time.”

Steve couldn’t even keep the throaty chuckle for a second before he patted Eddie on the back. “Good fuckin’ luck with that.”

You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but how could you not when they were right fucking in front of you?!

And after Steve said, they had done threesomes before, your mouth watered just at the thought of both boys towering over you, attending to your every need, trying to dominate you but also pathetically begging for more.

And if you framed everything correctly, they’d want to fuck you and would think they were the ones in charge, not knowing you were the mastermind behind all of it.

“Hi, boys!” You waved with a giggle, rushing to their side as your skirt rode up your thigh, both boys turning their bodies fully to meet you.

Both of their Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of you—a graphic baby tee showing just enough of your skin, paired with the most perfect skirt Steve has ever seen, and Eddie’s eyes were almost glued to your chest, enjoying the way your breasts jiggled as you walked.

You couldn’t hide your smirk at their widened eyes, men were so easy.

They both stammered, and you wished you weren’t enjoying this so fucking much. But, you were. You had to have both of them.

Letting your tongue swirl around the cone in your hand, you looked up at Eddie. “What flavor is that?”

“Chocolate,” He replied quickly, “I love chocolate!” You exclaimed, and Eddie grew weak in his knees, gulping and letting his cock strain himself against his zipper. God, he felt like a fucking pervert.

“Do you wanna try some?” He barely managed to speak clearly and you nodded quickly with a grin, Steve watching it all with a huff.

Without giving him a chance to do anything, you wrapped your palm around his, giggling while you let the cold silkiness coat your tongue, lapping at it while your focus remained on Eddie’s dark eyes.

He almost groaned at the sight; you knew that was your cue. “Tastes so delicious, Eds.” You hummed with an exaggerated sound, reveling in the way Eddie blinked quickly to register all of it.

“Wanna try mine?” Steve’s silky, cocky voice had your attention shifting, you raised a single brow, shrugging.

“Already tried that, thanks,” Your voice carries a bit of coldness but is still alluring enough to have Steve crave more from you.

“I don’t think you tried all of it, sweetheart,” His voice still held that cool tone, tongue sticking out to lick a stripe from the cone wrapped around his palm, almost giving you a flashback as rosy lips framed the words so lewd that you had to do something.

You were quick to tilt your head sideways, leaning in just enough to have your velvety lips against his, Eddie watched in awe, enjoying the way you sucked on Steve’s tongue, letting the sweet strawberry flavor explode your taste buds as exaggerated sounds left your lips as you pulled away, leaving Steve with nothing.

“Mhmm, you’re right, Stevie,” You hummed, Steve’s face wearing a shock you hadn’t seen before. “But I think mine, tastes so much better…” You cooed facing Eddie, “Wouldn’t you agree, pretty boy?” You directed it at Steve, relishing the dumbfounded look on his face, while Eddie watched all of it with a contented sigh.

He needed both of you.

You needed both of them.

And Steve would do anything for you, and for Eddie, even if he never would explicitly show it.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, bringing a wicked smirk to your face. Easy.

Before you turned to leave, you faced Eddie, “Oh!”

“Do you have any free time this afternoon?” If you gave him those eyes and that sweet tone, he’d give you all of his time in the world.

“Uh-huh, of course.” He's sure his voice sounds so squeaky but you smile at him so sweetly that it melts away all his worries.

“Okay, do you mind if I drop by? I need something to relax, and to let a little bit of my steam off…” You winked at him, you couldn’t be more obvious, and Eddie almost went limp at your words, no need for the Munson charm after all.

“S-sure!” He exclaimed, mouth curling into a wide grin.

“See you later, boys.”

。°。°。°。°。°

“Really?” Eddie eyed you with a raise of his brows, getting more and more comfortable the further both of you inhaled from the rolled joint, your knee brushed against his, and his worries ghosted away with it.

“You think Michael Myers is hot?”

“Yeah!” You nodded, “Too weird for you, Munson?” you nudged him playfully.

“No, no! It’s just… how? He has a mask on,”

With a shrug, “The mask is the appeal,” you giggle.

He scrunches his brows, confused. “The mystery of the mask is what makes him sexy.” You shrug, and a soft ‘oh!’ escapes his lips.

He’s quick to ash the joint to the skull resin ashtray, getting up in a rush, causing you to furrow your brows, “what the hell are you doing?”

He turns with a grin, “getting a mask.”

You giggle at that, “Oh, trust me, you don’t need a mask pretty boy.”

“W-what?” He blinks quickly to process all of it, bringing a wide smile to your lips as you almost drag him by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s almost frozen, his mind explodes at how forward you’re being, pants getting tighter when he realizes how close you are to him.

It’s finally happening and he can feel himself melt into you, he lets you stripe him of his control and his lips part slightly in surprise.

Mind struggling to process if this is all real. With a giggle you take him by surprise when you tug your fingertips at his messy curls, twisting his head to the side as you crash your lips down to his.

Dangerously sweet, addicting, and bold. And Eddie is putty in your hands.

“The prettiest lips,” you hum into his mouth.

“Yeah?” He almost blushes a rosy color, and you can’t help but relish that feeling, letting it sink to your chest at how beautiful he looks when he’s so flushed, and you realize you need both of them.

You need Steve’s cockiness, you need Eddie’s tentativeness at the same fucking time.

And both of their dominance.

You whimper needily, the feel and taste of his soft lips flood all over your body, making you ache. Holy shit, he’s fucking good.

“F-fuck,” He whimpers as he pulls back, mind trying to register everything, but he’s quick to dive back in once he realizes he just stopped kissing you.

A passionate, needy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, as his hand roughly grabs your waist, pulling you further. You feel hot, skin buzzing at how demanding he is.

Then he slowly moves from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over, and you can’t help but feel that warm slickness coating your thighs at how fucking needy he is for you.

And you know exactly what you need to do to lure him in, entirely.

“N-need you, Eds,” you whine into his lips, brows pinched together and Eddie’s already about to explode in his pants, you’re fucking perfect.

“Where do you need me, angel?” He asks, all obedient and it has your core throbbing with need.

Your thighs part slowly, skirt riding up more and more as you expose yourself to him, and Eddie’s teeth drag on his bottom lip at the sight. “Here,” nails rake on the surface of the couch beneath your legs, pussy fully on display.

He almost groans at the sight, but no, he has to take control back again, he has to impress you.

And he wants to savor this moment, enjoy you, fully.

It gives him all the confidence he needs, with a slight push he has you on your back, sprawled on the couch, you’re surprised by the sudden change of control, but anticipation jumps in your insides, not knowing his next move is exciting and you let him enjoy it.

His hands start to idly run everywhere on your body, all grabby and rough. You don’t know what to expect from him, and it certainly isn’t this, his hold on your hips, breasts, and thighs, enough to leave a mark, still gentle, still attentive but equally rough and it has you almost whining out.

He’s perfect.

“Needy baby,” He hums, planting a sloppy kiss on your neck. “What do you need… my fingers or my tongue?”

You shamelessly spread your legs further, enjoying his weight on top of you, hard bulge pressing against your thigh, but you need more. “Both.”

And your whiny answer is all he needs, his rough hands travel down to your inner thighs, almost toying as he drags his mouth all over you. Nibbling and biting all over your neck, shoulder, breasts, everywhere.

He’s quick to drop down between your legs, and he groans at the sight of your puffy lips and dampened thighs, “Jesus Christ…” His teeth draw on his bottom lip.

“No panties?”

“Nuh-uh,” you giggle shamelessly, and he’s almost fucking gone. The fabric of his pants so painfully harsh against his erected cock that he hisses.

Your legs quiver when he traces a finger around your opening teasingly and his mouth is pressing kisses down your inner thigh, sloppy and filthy.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he hums into you.

Your little whimpers and the sight of you so relaxed make Eddie a madman, he understands Steve’s non-stop blabbing about you the last few days, granted, he always knew you were perfect.

But once he gets a taste of this, and a sight of you like this, he knows he can’t fucking quit, ever.

“More.” You hiss out a breath as his fingertips gently circle your clit. It’s demanding, and Eddie’s amber gaze is dark as it meets yours. “Behave,” He warns, it’s electrifying, making you want to disobey more than anything, everything about him draws you in.

With a smirk, you run your hand down his arms, meeting his fingertips with a gaze so dangerously lewd that Eddie’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. “But I’m aching… I need so much more.”

He groans, loudly. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? Only for me, huh?”

He wants reassurance, he wants you to tell him he’s better than Steve. And you don’t, because you need both of them, so you just tease him enough, just so both of them could get the idea of proving themselves to you.

You could just imagine them both taking turns, trying to prove to you which one would make you cum more, complementing each other, striping you out of your control, just for that one second, not knowing that you planned all of it.

It’s sick, a bit deranged, and stupid. But exactly what you need.

“Mhmm, only for you, baby.”

Endearing words have him quick to push two fingers inside of you, still agonizingly slow, withdrawing a breath when he feels your slick walls.

His fingers slowly go in and out of you, the suspenseful score from the movie almost mirrors your heartbeat, rising each time he gives you a grin, basking in your whines.

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he praises, enjoying how your lips part slightly, pretty whines coming out of it. He circles your clit at a slow pace, still. Relishing in the way his name slips past your mouth so desperately, almost begging.

He presses a light kiss to your clit, and you shudder at the impact, gazing down at him, “You like the way I look between your pretty thighs?” He hums into your walls.

“Yes,” You coo, and he doesn’t hesitate to dive in, parting your cunt with his thumb before his tongue is teasingly lapping up at you.

It’s all so filthy and intimate that you immediately squeeze your eyes shut, his fingers, his tongue, it’s all too much but at the same time not enough.

You need him, you need more from him. It’s just not enough.

“Makin’ prettiest noises for me, such a good girl, aren’t ya?” You hum excitedly, all fucked out as you grind yourself on his mouth, you don’t know what it is, but you can’t help yourself, fingertips latched onto his curls, head thrown back, you feel like screaming.

And he’s torturously slow, giving you everything you need but not fully everything, withdrawing just a little to have you go crazy. And it’s fucking working, his tongue works wonders inside of your walls, his name falling like a prayer from your lips.

Not fucking enough. And it’s frustrating, to feel so on edge.

You shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t beg for more, but you can’t help it, it’s all hazy and you want more, it’s like you’ve been deprived, and he feels so fucking good.

And maybe, you letting Eddie fuck you could drive Steve further, you could just imagine the scorched face on Steve’s look when he found out, and you want that mean side of him. You want him to compete for your attention, you want him to stripe you out of your control, for once in your fucking life.

You try to drag at his curls to feel his tongue more and more, flicking at your clit agonizingly slow but he slaps your hand away, warning you with his dark gaze.

“I need more,” you pout, looking down at him all doe-eyed.

“Need you to fuck me,” you whine with a hidden smirk, Eddie’s eyes flashing a hunger that has you all excited in your tummy.

“Needy little slut,” he murmurs in your ear. “Steve wasn’t enough for you?” You love the newfound confidence in him, the sudden change in his tone, the darker his eyes get, the way he cooes has you dripping with need.

You shake your head with a giggle, “Steve didn’t fuck me.”

“What?” That brings an unintentional grin to his lips. You didn’t let Steve fuck you but you were going to let Eddie fuck you? Oh, he could just cum in his pants right then and there.

You? Begging to be fucked by him? He was in heaven, and you were the prettiest angel.

“No wonder, he can’t fucking shut up about you,”

So your plan was working.

“I don’t blame him, angel. I wouldn’t be able to quit you right after I tasted you either, so fucking perfect, hmm?” He gives you a dazzlingly addicting kiss, lips tasting like you and you hum into it.

You try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he doesn’t let you, making you pout innocently at him. “I need you.” You don’t know how he has you like this, and you try to make your brain believe that this was your plan, but you wholeheartedly want this, you want him to fuck your brains out. You want him to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore.

A possessive look sits on his face, gaze all dangerous and it has you wanting more, “You have me.” A wicked grin overturns on his lips, he’s quick to get rid of his clothes, almost ripping open your blouse. Fingertips brush over your skin with such passion that it almost burns.

He groans at the sight of your breasts, hands itching to grab them, mouth watering at the sight. “So.” A kiss on your breasts, “fucking”, a nibble, “perfect.” His hands grabbed everywhere, mind reveling in everything.

Still struggling to realize if this was all real or not. He was hooked, so fucking hooked.

He couldn’t blame Steve for not shutting up about you, you were addicting. He was right, maybe the two of you could share. He wouldn’t be opposed to it at all, if there was one thing the three of you were good at, it was this.

“That stays on.” He hums against your chest, fingers sliding over the tight little skirt you were wearing, flipping it over to your stomach but not taking it off.

You were whining like a bitch in heat now, eagerly watching him take off his cock from his already wet boxers, patches of pre-cum had formed on it and you couldn’t help the delicious smirk on your face.

With a painful groan, his cock slipped past his boxers, and your eyes widened at the sight.

Salmon pink tip pearled with his pre-cum, looking so delicious that your mouth involuntarily opened at it, he was almost as big as Steve, only thicker, and slightly more curved to the left, perfect, just fucking perfect.

You understood his cockiness when it came to this, he was absolutely packing and by the way he had been acting, you could tell he knew how to fucking use it.

He leaned back slightly, still positioned between your thighs before he took his cock in his hand, with a dangerous gaze, he jerked at it, letting out a small groan with a sly smirk.

You could feel your thighs dampening when he circled the angry tip over your clit. “That feels good, doesn’t it, angel?” Mocking, cruel, teasing. And you loved every fucking second of it.

“Y-yeah,” You murmur, eyes squeezed shut, your thighs are almost shaking and he’s watching you with a smirk, it’s all too sensitive and everything he does gives you an electrifying pleasure that you haven’t felt before.

Shutting up all the avoidant voices in your head that tell you you shouldn’t be doing this. Your thoughts and your body is consumed by pleasure as you hazily look down, his hand still on his cock while he drags it down through your folds. The tip of his pink slit parts you slightly, enjoying the way you’re gushing for him.

“Jesus fucking Christ… look at this cunt… just soaked for me,” he growls and lines his throbbing cock at your entrance, a loud needy moan escapes your lips, making him gloat.

“Look at how greedy your pussy is, angel… practically pulling me in.” He teases, cock still dragging along your folds, and you are about to embarrassingly beg, before he finally drives his cock the rest of the way into your aching cunt, “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” He groans loudly, his moans deliciously lewd. And your whines are mixed with his.

His hands are everywhere, rough, and grabby, almost like they are marking you. His hips thrust further into you fucking all of your worries away.

“Look how well you’re takin’ me, doll.” He hums, eagerly watching the way his cock disappears in and out of your soppy walls, mouth hanging open as curses slip past it at each of his movements.

“Eddie…” You whimper, you can’t focus, you can’t even fucking think. Your brain is short-circuiting by how good everything he feels, how he is hitting that one spot and is stretching you wider and wider, and you are doing everything you can to adjust to his size.

“What d’ya need, baby?” He coos mockingly.

He’s so much more cocky now, and he has earned it because he’s that good and you’re awfully pathetic for him.

You want to speak, but it’s almost as if you’re unable to, it’s frustrating, and Eddie is loving every second of it.

“Awww, so cock drunk that you can’t even speak, princess?” Another harsh thrust has you whining and squirming.

“You need more, baby? Need me deeper inside of this tight little cunt?” He hums, cock slamming inside of you so agonizingly slow that it has you moaning for more, you’re simply fucked out and he’s too far gone.

“Need me to stretch it out with my big cock?” You nod so quickly that your head almost falls off, and Eddie’s chuckle reverberates loudly, echoing in the room with your whimpers.

“Greedy little slut.” He picks up his pace, and you’re fully lost in desire now, clinging to him as each of his thrusts pushes you closer and closer, he’s filling you to the brim and it nearly has you sobbing beneath him.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Fuckin’ soaked for me and this tight cunt was just made for my cock, wasn’t it?” He growls against your neck, licking a path from your collarbone to the shell of your ear, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back in full euphoria while he thrusts in and out of you, setting a hard, brutal pace. Teeth sucking into your shoulder to slow himself down, to stop the release he can feel building.

Incoherent babbles are all that leave your lips, you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach, “Y-yes, yes!” You whine, “I’m close, baby.” You lift your hips, trying to grind it against his cock to get more friction.

It’s all filthy and desperate and it has Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re so fucking perfect for him and you stick to his mind.

This image of you, begging, his name falling from your swollen lips, all fucked out and spread for him. It’s doing the best fucking damage to his mind and he can’t get enough of you.

“You gonna cum for me, honey? Wanna soak my cock?” His words are so lewd and it has you nodding like an idiot, you want him to cum with you, you need to feel him inside of you. Filling every fucking inch of you.

He can feel your pussy clamping around him, it’s all glorious and he wants nothing more than to engrave this image of you to his brain. He wants Steve to know, how you were mewling for him. “Cum for me, angel.” He praises, slamming inside of you deeper than before, thrusts getting sloppier the more he sees how close you are.

He wants nothing more than to last, but your whimpers, the way you take him in, your mouth hanging open, it’s all fucking too much, and he knows if you give him one more whine or one more filthy talk he’s going to explode.

You writhe under him, so painfully good, but fucking impossible to hold yourself back once his thumb circles around your clit.

“W-want you to cum, too. Need to feel you i-inside.” You encourage him, and he groans at the idea of cumming together with you, balls drawing up and ready to fill your insides.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby,” He growls, slamming into you once, twice, thrice. “If you say shit like that I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, baby!” He can feel his cock filling you to the brim, hitting that sensitive spot one last fucking time and you know it’s over.

“Cum for me, pretty boy.” You cry out as you orgasm, pleasure shooting through your already hazy mind, and that’s all the encouragement Eddie needs before he chases his own release.

He pounds into you one final time, deeper and harder, in a frenzy with how badly he needs to cum inside of you. With a few ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s, and ‘so f-fucking perfect’s he growls your name as he fills you up. Not slipping out until he’s sure you’re filled full of him.

He collapses next to you with a sigh of breath, a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he’s trying to register what the fuck just happened.

You don’t give him a minute to breathe when you quickly get up, collecting your blouse as you ignore the confused look on his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready?” You answer with a giggle.

“What for?”

“To leave, pretty boy.”

“B-but we just-”

He sounded so adorable, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into a mess of feelings, and yet without knowing, you were already walking right into it.

“I’m going to this thing at The Hideout today.” You murmured while fixing your skirt and hair in the mirror. Skirt creased and hair all chaotic. You thought you looked a fucking mess, but Eddie would argue that's the prettiest you looked.

Ruined by him.

“There’s this band—”

“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie replied quickly.

“How did you know?” You turned with a raised brow, intrigued.

“You’re looking at their lead singer, sweetheart.” He replied smugly, a grin sitting on his plump lips.

“Oh my god!” You said in a mock screeching voice, “Can I please get your autograph, Mr. Rockstar?” You batted your eyelashes with a twirl of your hair, giggling when he narrowed his gaze at you.

“You’re lucky, you’re so pretty, huh?” You shouldn’t have felt your cheeks heat at the comment because he just fucked your brains out, but shit was he smooth. Making you blush with one fucking compliment. You were way too deep into this, weren’t you?

“So you listened to our stuff?” He asked, with a beaming smile on his face, too cocky. And it killed you to tell him you didn’t when he had the most adorable look on his face.

“No, but, this might be a great first listening experience.” You hummed, “So make sure you don’t suck, Mr. Rockstar.” Your hand turned the doorknob when you threw him a wink.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will rock your fuckin’ world," He returned the wink. “Again.” He said with a smug smile and a cool tone.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, “Oh, and make sure to invite Steve too.” You hummed nonchalantly as Eddie nodded, almost obediently.

He would do anything you asked him to.

Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted to go, because it was never any good to fuck the same guy twice, especially with someone like Steve who just slept around, or someone like Eddie who wore his heart on his sleeve. It would either end with your heart broken or theirs. Things always got too messy.

But both of them were just so… good. And you had this opportunity to have both of them.

How were you supposed to hold yourself back?

。°。°。°。°。°

“No fucking way.” Steve said exasperatedly, shaking his head and denying what Eddie told him for the hundredth time.

Eddie groaned, growing frustrated, “Yes fucking way, dude, ask her!”

“Ask her what, whether you fucked her or not?” Steve narrowed his gaze when he turned to him, words laced with bitterness, if Eddie didn't know him better he'd say Steve was jealous.

And he was.

“Yeah, because I did, and she fucking loved it.”

“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his face still wearing a shocked look that had Eddie grinning.

His mind was almost spiraling, that insecurity he felt years ago almost returning and the image was quick to shatter. Why didn’t you want him? Why did you want Eddie?

“C’mon, Stevie,” He elbowed Steve playfully, enjoying this. Steve gloated for days about you, for days. And now he had something bigger to tease him with.

Because you, who rejected every idiotic boy in this town, who even rejected 'King Steve' begged for Eddie. And he couldn't help but bask in that, especially to annoy Steve further. “Don’t be jealous, I thought you said we could share.” Eddie grinned like an idiot, brushing his shoulder against his teasingly.

And it was getting to Steve, the idea that you didn’t want him. Like you could see right through his King Steve bullshit. “Fuck you, man.”

“So, what? You can have her, but I can’t?” He said with a little bitterness spilling out, eyeing Steve.

“No, dude, just—” Steve sighed, “I can’t fucking get my mind off of her.” He mumbled, almost embarrassed.

“Neither can I!”

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Desperate, pathetic, and horny. Ironically, that’s how you were feeling too, without knowing that’s exactly what the boys were feeling too.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.” Steve looked at Eddie with a narrowed gaze.

“She’s coming to the show tonight,” Eddie hummed excitedly, “and she asked me to invite you too.”

Holy shit. That brought a saccharine smile on Steve’s face, it was stupid, to be so excited over something like this. But that meant you did want him. Stirring his stomach in the best and worst way possible, he wanted to shake it off, but he fucking couldn’t.

Jesus fucking Christ. What were you doing to him?

“Dude, do you realize what that means?”

“What?” Eddie inquired.

“Oh my sweet, sweet, Munson…” Steve tssked, “She wants both of us.”

“Oh, shit.” The realization was slow to hit Eddie, his mind still replaying what happened with you over and over again. “Wait you— uh, you’re okay with that?” Eddie asked, almost nervous.

“Yeah, dude, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve shrugged carelessly, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but Eddie still felt nervous, because this time it did feel different, with both of you.

“Besides we can’t keep our girl depraved now, can we?”

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