#on the entire fucking earth oh my god

[optimisticrunawaygalaxy]

i get it now, i want a cat forever and always, when Luna dies i will be devastated and get myself another shelter cat that i can love so much, i cant imagine a life without a cat now

[ghost-proofbaby]

can y'all please come into my humble abode and imagine something with me i don't yet have the wits to write a full fledged fic out of (yet)?

so, everyone knows how when you get a tattoo, part of the healing process is the itchy phase, right? and for obvious reasons, you can't scratch it. favored method, in my experience and fellow tatted friends, is to just give it a good old slap.

perfect. so now, with this in mind, can you imagine having gotten a large hip/ass piece, and how mortifying it would be to smack your own ass to soothe that itch? and it's just plain painful. you want your new ink to heal properly - it's gorgeous and you put a lot of time, pain, and money into that damn thing - but it just sucks.

enter best friend eddie.

he loves your new ink. thinks it's fucking sick. nearly creamed his damn pants when he found out you were doing a hip/ass tatt (because how can he ask to see it without being weird? how can he react to that without being weird when he's spent the last several years with the world's most pathetic crush on you?) at first, it's fine. you show him the tattoo in a totally friendly, totally platonic way. he hypes you up, he calls you 'the most metal person he knows'. flourishes you with all the compliments and looks at you with starry eyes out of sheer awe at the way he's managed to snag a person into his life who is just so. damn. cool.

but the days pass by, that new ink begins to heal, and it fucking itches.

when you first proposition him, you're even more embarrassed than he is. stumbling over all your words, the request coming out contorted every wrong way. you don't want to make things weird, but is it really that weird for a friend to help a friend? it is really that weird to ask your best friend to smack your tattoo to help with that itch you can't even really properly reach?

it's just friends helping friends.

and that's the mantra you both repeat to yourselves - as you request the embarrassing favor of him, as he agrees almost too eagerly, as you find yourself face-planted in your bed wondering how deeply you can bury down your shame as he tries to make jokes to make it all a bit less awkward.

it's just friends helping friends, until eddie's hand lands down on your ass with a resounding smack, and that first little whimper escapes your lips.

[teaandinanity]

... what kind of ignoramus designed the EA app. Was this designed by a committee of corporate twits with too many business degrees and a complete dearth of common sense? Having to GO ONLINE to enable OFFLINE MODE is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard of in my life. Do you know when I need offline mode? Do you, incomprehensible moron from planet idiot who designed this feature? WHEN I DO NOT HAVE GODDAMN INTERNET ACCESS.

In conclusion I hope the fuckwit(s) responsible for this step on a lego and fall down a (short) flight of stairs in front of three people they respect and acquire a RAFT of bruises to both their bodies and egos both, amen.

[simcardiac-arrested]

once again sorry to everyone for bringing this to your dashboards. but some of you are like, genuinely delirious. not even in a funny way. & i hope you die. i hope we both die. hand in unlovable hand etc etc

[solcarow]

.

[menlove]

being a ✨historian✨ on the internet is hearing the worst most god awful fucking takes you have ever seen by ppl that have never actually studied history beyond youtube videos and tiktoks and maybe some trending half fiction half conspiracy book and just want to say smth they think is like earth shattering and edgy but is really just completely ahistorical and vaguely offensive but you can't even say anything bc you will get called an elitist and you kind of just

[butchviking]

i remember the wttbp pit i remember the headfirst pit i remember the bury me pit i remember i remember i remember. i do NOT remember the mama pit i honest to god must have blacked out for a minute i think

[nomaishuttle]

aughhhhh i wish i had books 2 read i wanna read books so bad rn 🤓 <- i look like this. 2 pictures of me 👇

[subskz]

…i lost the tag limit war

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

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

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

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

word count : 20k

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

part two

You have always been first in your class.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"I have an idea."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

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

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

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

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

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

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

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

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

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

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

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

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

"And right now, how do you feel?"

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

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

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

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

"I do too."

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

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

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

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

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

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

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

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

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

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

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

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

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

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

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

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

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

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

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

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

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

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

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

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

"What's there to miss?"

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

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

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

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

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

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

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

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

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

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll ask her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I only tell my friends."

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

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

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

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

"You'll catch a cold."

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

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

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

"Yn, I don’t-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure."

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Never."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was something friends think about, right? 

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

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

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

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

"I’ll still cut it."

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

He didn't cut his hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

2 months later

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

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

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

"What are you doing?"

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

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

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

"Nope."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not like that you look scary."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

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

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

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

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

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

"I will." 

"Okay." 

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

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

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

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

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She deleted your number.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yn-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, let me make it better." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It will take time."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

[7hursday]

bestfriend!suguru who finds you sitting in the bathtub with your legs spread, hands that were frantically rubbing at your clit now frozen in place as you two blink at each other.

he was never supposed to even enter the bathroom — best friends have boundaries, after all — but hearing a strained scream of his name had him rushing to check if you were okay.

…only for him to realize a few moments later that it wasn’t a scream.

bestfriend!suguru who wordlessly pulls you out of the bathroom and tosses you onto the bed, ravaging you like a thirsty man that had been stranded in a desert.

your cunt was already sensitive from your previous actions, making you cry out and tangle his locks in between your fingers, but oh god — the way his tongue circled your clit before pushing inside your entrance, lapping up all of your wetness and tongue-fucking you without mercy — you weren’t sure whether to push him away or pull him impossibly closer.

at one point, his spit was almost entirely the reason why you were even wet. he was so persistent, making out with your pussy as if this was his last meal on earth. a clear, stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy when he inserts two fingers and curls them just right, hitting that spongy spot you couldn’t usually reach by yourself.

“oh my fucking god,” suguru pulls away, slick coating his lips and chin as he stares at the mess you’ve made. “look at that pretty pussy. so wet, all f’me,” a soft slap! has your body jolting, making you lift your head to look at him.

bestfriend!suguru who looked absolutely pussydrunk, eyes glazed over and still glued to the spot in between your legs as he fumbled with his belt. his cock was straining so hard against his pants you could’ve sworn they’d actually rip apart.

when he pushes his cock into your cunt, he has to bite down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, to stop himself from just burying himself to the hilt and fucking you to the point of bruising your cervix. the warmth and wetness surrounding and squeezing around his shaft has him seeing stars, and he hasn’t even started moving yet.

when he finally picks up the pace, he ruts into you like a dog in heat, fingers digging into your waist as he chases after his high. he moans at the sinful squelch of your pussy with every thrust— and if he could eat you out and break you with his cock at the same time, he would.

bestfriend!suguru who says, “if I’d known you had a pussy this fuckin’ good, I would’ve made you mine ages ago.”

[hellokittyish]

part one here.

★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?

but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.

“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.”

“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.

“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”

“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.

“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”

shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.

“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”

and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.

so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"

and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.

"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.

and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.

and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.

and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…

“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”

taglist: @haruhatake @sheismaryy @jxeon @bonneyzsk @yozora7154 @depositodeporradogojo @ifyournameischoisanpleaseloveme @anthy-j-ander @sugarcoatedsoul @moncher-ire @fwxyz00 @trishiepo0 @just-lilita @beenathembo @channnee @tul1ps1 @awoodsysimp411 @vera4luv @silllly-jokesterr @mastermasterlist1p1 @yourfaveava @rllyobsessedgirlie @cherrycel @tomiokas-lunchbox @iwaizumisloverrr @citruswriter @jasminelee324 @kocho-catt @azewritessillystuff @suggestmename @greentea-ellie @banksxxnik @feelingtoosilly @nepotti @nonamevenus @barking4dogs-fy @mihoonz @crazytrash @phoenixflames498 @starlightmid @k0z3me @cakenpiewhyohmy @wh1msycal @resfrio @ersharyzst @loveyislost @supernovacoffeestop @ying47

[tojirights]

Ong your Alastor showing you off to Vox one was so😍😍🤤🤤

Can you make do an enemies to lovers? Like how maybe Alastor’s been possessive of you and he hates how much he likes you, and one day your dressed in something scandalous (maybe Angel helps pick it out) and Alastor can’t take it anymore. Much degradation on the side pleeeeeease🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

a/n: degradation is my specialty 🩷 requests open!

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, slight coercion, degradation, choking

words: 1k~

ever since alastor met you, he struggled to understand you. rather, he struggled to understand what you did to him. you wore down the walls he so carefully built and did it effortlessly and it drove him mad. your smile, your voice, the genuine care you showed for him and everyone in the hotel.

you took up his every thought and he hated it. he hated that he couldn't stay away either. he just couldn't trust anyone else to protect you. he wants you more than he'd ever admit, and while everyone told him that you felt something for him, he chose to ignore it. but when he sees what you've decided to wear tonight, he nearly has a heart attack.

"what on earth are you wearing?" alastor speaks, cocking a brow when he sees you walking out of the hotel with angel. you smile shyly, out of your element in the flashy and revealing outfit angel styled you in. "oh this? yeah, i know." you laugh, covering your chest with your arms. it does nothing but push your tits further together, threatening to bust out of the barely there top.

"its a little much, don't you think?" alastor's eye twitches as he tries to suppress his anger. how dare angel dress you like this! "you don't like it." you frown, looking down at your outfit. he sighs, rubbing his temple. "it's not that..." he speaks before shooting a look at angel that would have burnt him to a crisp if possible. "i uhh.. i'll let you two talk." angel quickly scurries away, blowing you a kiss as he does so.

alastor's blood was boiling at this point. "do you understand the attention wearing this would earn you? is that what you want?" he's tugging you into the shadows with him before you're brought to his broadcast tower. "alastor what is going on?" your frown deepens when he bumps into his desk.

his final straw is watching you bend down to pick up the papers that fell, your entire ass on display as your skirt falls forward. he's behind you in a flash, one hand pressing your face into the wood of his desk while the other pins your arm behind you. all you can do is gasp for air and wiggle under his grasp but its no use. "now deary, you must be doing this on purpose." he growls, trying his best not to be too rough but he's having a hard time holding back. "a-al don't-" "keep your mouth shut." his harsh words make you shudder. "if you so desire to dress like a whore, you'll be treated like a whore."

alastor releases your arm, causing your eyes to widen when you figure out what he's doing instead of holding you. his clawed finger tears straight through your panties in a single stroke, exposing your pussy to him. "w-wait alastor, it's not what you think." you gasp out, but he's already sliding a finger through your folds. "what's that? are you saying that your cunt isn't basically begging to be used right now , hm? that you don't want to be fucked over my desk right now? because that's what that outfit was telling me. and now your pussy is telling me the same thing, darling."

he's slowly pumping a finger in and out of your now soaking cunt, the sound of your wetness filling the otherwise quiet room. "you'd let me, wouldn't you?" the second finger has you moaning into his desk, and against your better judgement, you nod your head as much as you can while being held down. "yes, i-i wanted you to see me." your eyes sting with tears as embarrassment fills you. god yes, you wanted alastor to see you in such a skimpy outfit. but you didn't expect him to lose it on you like this.

and still, every harsh word has you dripping and approaching orgasm faster than you could have expected. "now there's a good girl." alastor coos, a sense of pride filling him, rather, filling his aching cock. he hopes to never forget the sight in front of him, the way your skirt still hangs around your hips, your panties torn in two just enough that he can see your pretty pink pussy peaking between the slit he ripped.

"all you had to do is be honest, you didn't have to have angel dress you like a little sex doll just to get my attention. you shouldn't dare dress like that for anyone but me, do you hear that, sweetheart? i don't want to have to leash you as well, but i have no issue doing so if you can't behave." he ends his sentence by finally pushing his cock passed your puffy lips.

your eyes roll into the back of your head, fire scorching through your body as alastor plows his cock in and out of you. "a-al fuck, too big." you whine, bracing your hands on the desk with every thrust. alastor snickers behind you, only pulling out to flip your body around. being able to look up at him only makes this worse. the sinister smile on his face, his hooded, dark eyes. his clawed hand wraps around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. "don't you worry your pretty little head about that, darling. you can take it." he grunts when you clench around him.

alastor's pulling out just in time to paint your thighs and stomach with thick ropes of his seed. you whimper as you feel it splashing on your skin, covering you and your clothes. you feel dirty and used, and my god do you want this to happen again. alastor catches his breath before planting a kiss to your forehead.

"are you going to cum already? with my hand around your throat?" he would laugh, but it's possibly the hottest he's ever seen you. your eyes glassed over with tears, you nod. "'m s-so close, al." you pant, barely making the words out before waves of pleasure crash into you and you're cumming hard on his cock. your vision goes black, choked moans escaping as alastor fucks your sensitive pussy.

"the next time i catch you wearing something like that, i won't hesitate to make an example out of you." his words lack the same bite from earlier, but you still shudder at his implications. he turns to grab something to clean you up with but stops dead in his tracks when you speak.

"y-yes sir..." you whisper.

[keferon]

Wait it'd actually be so funny when all the different stories of the Mech au start overlapping. Because none of them know almost anything about each other they'd be so confused.

Jazz, Prowl, and Swerve arrive on earth and meet Ratchet and find that this random ass Decepticon has been living on Earth for god knows how long and are just "How the hell did you even GET HERE???"

And then there's TexAid who haven't had ANY Cybertronian shenanigans yet so First Aid is just like "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE GIANT ALIEN ROBOTS??? I'VE BEEN DEALING WITH A GHOST THIS WHOLE TIME!!" So everyone else has to deal with the fact Ghosts exist apparently.

AHAHAHAHAHHA HELP

First aid: ALIVE ROBOTS ARE REAL???

Cybertronians: You're literally sitting inside one..no?

First aid: nonono Vortex isn't robot, he's a ghost

Cybertronians: GHOSTS ARE REAL????

Deadlock staring at Prowl: The fuck you look like that?

Prowl: I scanned a Mecha. So I'm Mecha now.

Deadlock: Oh shit for real?? With lil human holder place and everything?

Prowl: Yes. It allows Jazz to...assist and control my movements in battle.

Deadlock: WAS THAT AN OPTION THIS WHOLE TIME???

Swerve: Ratchet. Ratch I love you but what do you mean the whole time we've been working together you had the ENTIRE DECEPTICON LIVING IN YOUR GARAGE??

Ratchet: AND YOU'VE BEEN AN ALIEN ROBOT THIS WHOLE TIME AND DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME??

Swerve: I DIDN'T KNOW THAT ALRIGHT??

Ratchet: THE FUCK YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T KNOW???

[kkai-zen]

ᯓ★ oh damn, i feel like a HOTSHOT

──── featuring ITOSHI RIN.

summary: what happens when your famous pro-soccer player boyfriend ITOSHI RIN finds your Tumblr fan account for him?

contents: 18+ nsfw! MDNI. fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!rin, p in v, porn w plot, established relationship, reader nicknames (pretty, pretty girl, pretty thing, good girl), praise, crying, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation

a/n: part of my new series featuring the bllk boys! the series can be found here!

wc: 1.7k

✰ .ᐟ your pro-athlete boyfriend ITOSHI RIN . . .

finds your Tumblr fan account, "itoshi-rins-world," when you accidentally leave Tumblr open on your computer while using the bathroom.

your blog is filled with itoshi rin thirsts!, bf!rin headcannons!, and, of course, itoshi rin smut.

he sees that you’re following a handful of tags with his name, including (but not limited to): #rin itoshi, #rin itoshi x you, #rin itoshi smut

gets flustered reading the downright pornographic posts you’ve written, liked, and reblogged, but also gets cocky.

tries his best not to let it show.

thinks it’s cute how you post about all of his games, stats, and interviews.

moved by the amount of support you've given him since before the you two even started dating.

more motivated than ever and falls in love with you even more.

Strolling back into your bedroom with a stretch, you raise an eyebrow when you see your boyfriend RIN hunched over your desk, scrolling avidly through something on your laptop. A smile curls at your lips seeing him so invested in…you squint at the screen. A Tumblr blog?

“Rin, what are you- ”

Your heart stops in your chest. There’s no way he’s-

“Reading through your Tumblr account.”

He turns to face you with a cool, stony expression, and you’re frozen in the doorway of your room, brain completely shut down. 

“You post a lot on-” Rin starts, but before he can finish, you’re sprinting to your computer, slamming it shut, and collapsing to your knees.

“Oh my god, I- I’m so sorry,” you splutter, a bright red blush erupting over your cheeks as you bury your face in your hands. “I made that account so long ago and I was just a huge fan and y’know, over the years I just- kept up with it, and I- ” you’re rambling on and on, panicking when you look up only to be met with Rin’s stoic expression.

Does he think I’m some crazy fangirl now?! Panicking, a million thoughts rush through your head as you squeeze your eyes shut, missing the faint blush that begins to creep up Rin’s neck. “I’ll delete everything, don’t worry,” you blurt, hesitantly meeting his teal gaze again as you reach for your laptop—but this time, you’re surprised to find an expression of confusion and disbelief painted on his face. 

“Why on Earth would you delete it?”

He stares at you in bewilderment. Huh? You scratch your head. “Well, I mean, I figured it made you uncomfortable…” you mumble, eyes flitting to the floor. Heart thumping against your chest, you wait a few quiet moments for Rin’s reply. 

“Hey, look at me,” Rin eventually murmurs. Face still flushed, you don’t even find the guts to try looking up at him. “Rin, I- ”

“I said, look at me.” 

He grabs your chin and pulls upwards, forcing you to look at him, and oh—

Rin doesn’t think he’s ever seen a sight so tantalizing in his entire life: face flushed crimson, soft lips trembling just the slightest bit, and big, shiny, eyes looking up at him, it’s almost as if you’re begging him to ruin you.

On top of that, the swell of emotions he experienced reading through your blog—filled with hundreds and hundreds of posts about him, following his whole pro-soccer journey—has his heart throbbing and thoughts completely jumbled. He swallows a lump in his throat as he feels his pants tighten. 

Fuck.

“Stand up.” Rin orders, and you stumble to your feet. “Huh? W-wait, Rin, I- mmpf!”

You gasp as his lips suddenly crash into yours, kissing you breathless as his arms wrap around your waist in a vice grip. Sitting you on top of the desk, his slender hands had already slipped your pants off by the time he pulled away from your lips with a gasp. You notice his face is flushed pink with an uncharacteristically urgent look in his eyes.

“Fuck- need you,” Rin groaned, slipping a hand into your pants, elegant fingers dipping down into your panties and finding your already-wet hole. 

“Mm- Rin- ah!” you squeal as he shoves two long digits into your dripping cunt. Biting your lip, you try to stifle your moans when Rin curls his fingers to perfectly catch each of your sensitive spots. 

“Don’t hold back your moans, pretty girl,” Rin breathes into the shell of your ear as he thrusts his fingers into your soft cunt, sending shivers through your body that only amplify the sudden sensation of his thumb rubbing circles on your throbbing clit. Pulling a lewd moan from your throat, you grind your hips desperately against his hand, your cunt pulsing and aching for more friction as you pull him into another bruising kiss. 

“Fuck- can’t believe a pretty girl like you has been a fan of mine for so long,” he pants, chest heaving as you pull away from his mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck. “Always knew y’had good taste,” he grunts, nipping at your collarbone. 

The wet sound of Rin’s fingers in your sloppy cunt is so obscene and has you whimpering in need, bucking your hips against him in a frenzy. “A-ah! R-Rin, keep- going- mmm- !” You whine, throwing your head back as he scissors his fingers deliciously inside of you, the sensation tightening the burning coil in your core. “C’mon, pretty thing,” Rin growls. “I know you’re close…go on and cum for me.” 

“O-ooh, ffuuuck!~” Crying out in ecstasy, your vision grows hazy as Rin’s husky voice tips you over the edge. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers, nails digging red crescents into the taut muscles of his back. “Fuck, pretty, you’re clamping down on me so nicely,” Rin whispers, a smirk gracing his features.

Gasping for breath, you see Rin drag his tongue effortlessly across his fingers —the fingers that were just inside you— and you feel arousal pooling in your core again.

“R-Rin,” you stutter, but you barely have time to catch your breath before he rips your top off, pulling your bra down to expose your breasts, where your nipples are perked up and begging for attention. Still smirking, he dips his head down and lets his tongue glide over the curves of your chest, teasing your nipples before latching his mouth onto one and rolling the other between his nimble fingers. “A-aah, no- Rin, I’m still- s-sensitive!” You squeak, nails scraping against the wood of your desk, drool slipping out of the corner of your open, panting mouth. “Sensitive?” He arches an eyebrow. “I didn’t even touch you here earlier. Besides, isn’t this what you want?” Rin huffs out a chuckle between licks, his mind rushing back to absolute filth you’ve written about him. 

And of course, he’s right; you’ve fantasized about him railing you senseless for so long that this barely feels real. “Rin-nie! Just- ah! Just f-fuck me already!” You whine, back arching as he tweaks your other nipple between his skillful fingers. His eyes narrow, and all of a sudden you find yourself bent over the desk, legs spread and sopping wet hole in his full view. 

“Since when did you give orders around here?” He snaps, and you yelp when you feel the sting of his palm meet the soft flesh of your ass. “Just shut up and be a good girl f’me,” Rin hisses, grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing harshly. You let out a wanton moan, shifting your hips from side to side in desperation. 

When you hear Rin’s pants slip onto the floor behind you, you can’t help but steal a glance, twisting your head back to see him lining his rock-hard cock up with your soaking entrance. 

Cunt quivering with arousal, you swallow in anticipation just looking at his dick, standing tall and thick against his toned abs, pearly beads of precum decorating his angry red tip. He bends over you, his broad muscular chest flush against your back, and purrs into your ear, “You ready, pretty girl?” 

You nod helplessly, grinding back against him in desire. “M’ready, Rinnie,” you whisper, breath hitching.

And fuck, the moment Rin starts pushing his tip into you, you see stars dance in the corners of your vision. The stretch of his fat cock was suffocating, and your jaw drops open with soundless whines as he tries to slowly ease his throbbing length into your velvet walls, inch by inch.

But your sloppy, creamy cunt feels too good, Rin decides. “Fuck, can’t take this anymore,” he grunts, and with one brutal thrust, buries himself balls deep into your drooling heat. You squeal, shuddering with pleasure as your weeping cunt adjusts to his cock, twitching violently inside your snug, soft walls. “Ri-innie, ooh, fu-fuck, you feel- s-so, so goo-od!” you moan, tears pricking at your eyes as Rin’s cock starts to thrust in and out of you at an unforgiving pace, kissing your cervix with each snap of his hips.

“Tight lil’ pussy so- fuckin’- warm and wet f’me,” Rin snarls, speeding up his thrusts. You whine, pushing your hips into him as his cock rearranges your insides, arousal dripping down your thighs in sinful pearls. “Love gettin’ fucked stupid on my cock, huh? Nasty fuckin’ girl.” and you whine in response; hearing the stoic, ice-cold Itoshi Rin spew such filth from his mouth was nothing less than intoxicating. 

His heavy balls smack against your clit with each lewd thrust, moans spilling from your lips as the tense knot in your core tightens unbearably. “Riii-innie, I- I’m about to- ah, fuuuuuck!!” You sob, writhing under him, vision going white as your orgasm slams into you, knocking you breathless as your slick squirts over Rin’s cock.

“G-good girl, cumming for me so well-” Rin groans, hips still pounding against the fat of your ass in a punishing rhythm, ripping screams from your throat as his balls slap your overstimulated clit again and again.

And finally, after what feels like a lifetime of fucking you dumb on his dick, you hear Rin pant out a “Fuck!”, throwing his head back as his thick, warm seed paints your throbbing cunt white. Your overstimulated body trembles with pleasure, tears sliding down your face as your pussy flutters around his twitching cock, still spurting ropes of hot cum into you.

His hips stutter to a halt as you gasp for air, and you can feel his heavy breathing on the back of your neck as his cum overflows and spills out from your abused hole. You both bathe in the afterglow of the moment, sweat and slick and cum cooling on your burning skin, before your legs promptly give up on you. You would’ve fallen straight to the ground if Rin hadn’t caught you by the waist, his strong, warm arms wrapping around you and lifting you effortlessly into a princess carry. 

“Mm…Rinnie…” you murmur, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Hm?”

“You really enjoyed reading my blog, huh?”

“…maybe.”

[nomaishuttle]

thinking thinking ...

[crepezinhos]

A Dream Come True

POV: Your favorite character’s banner, Wanderer, is about to come out in a few minutes, and, to contain your excitement for his launch, you decided to begin praying for him to ‘come home’. You’ve been now doing that for the past 5 minutes now while waiting for his splash art to appear in the game’s banners, but you suddenly hear knocks on your door, and the person behind it was a weird ‘cosplayer’.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Degradation, praising, usage of toys, edging, overstimulation, slight bruising, power-play and oral/anal sex.

“Scara, please come home… Scara, please come home…” You recited that phrase over and over nonstop, each time making your volume become slightly louder than before due to your comfort in the room.

Your fingers were twirling around each other, your hands fisting against each other tighter and tighter, your forehead resting at the tip of your risen thumbs and your eyes using all their strength to keep themselves closed shut and not let your excitement take over you…

Uuuuuuuggghhhhhh!!!

How much longer do you have to wait for?! Can’t he just launch in the game already?! Why does Hoyoverse have to be so perfectionist about when they launch things in the game?! You’ve been procrastinating your duties for the past hour now just for this occasion!

You couldn’t help but open your eyes due to your overwhelming impatience and they immediately aimed at your screen in search of the current banner’s timer.

2 minutes left

Oh!

Ok! It isn’t that bad! Your praying has really helped time run faster, didn’t it?!

You smiled in joy, quickly switching the way you were sat in your gaming chair to one where you were kneeling at it, making your prayers more determined and realistic.

Scara, please come home…

Scara, please come home.

Scara, please come home!

Scara, please come home!

Scara, please come home!

Scara, please come home!

SCARA, PLEASE COME-

Knock knock

Your whole body shivered in shock when you heard such triggering and recognizable noise, making you immediately wake up from your little fantasy.

For God’s sake! Who the heck could it be?! Can’t you enjoy a moment of excitement and joy by yourself for a single minute?!

You forced yourself to participate in reality instead of isolating yourself because of a screen, and got up from your chair to walk up to your dorm’s door, sighing in agony of killing a bit of your mood off.

It would really piss you off if the person behind it was simply someone making propaganda of some stupid, small project, instead of your roommate.

You gently grabbed and pushed the door’s handle down, opening it normally just like any other time.

“God, you really were determined to call my attention, weren’t you?! I’ve never heard any of my fans think this loud about me my entire life! Congratulations, woman, you have summoned me!” The man that was standing immediately begun scolding you as soon as your eyes were making contact, waving and gesturing his hands around to make his irony more obvious, ending his speech with them at his hips.

But you didn’t want, and couldn’t, say anything back in response, because you were too dumbfounded by the man’s appearance.

Why was the person knocking on your door… cosplaying… and acting like Wanderer?

“Hello? Woman on Earth? Cat got your tongue?” He leaned his body down to reach your eye level and brought a hand close to it, just to wave it side-by-side and snap his fingers repeatedly in an annoying manner.

“Who the fuck are you?” You had finally managed to process the information that was given to you, which caused ‘Wanderer’ to immediately sigh in boredom.

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you’re the kind of fan who pretends to be all innocent and unaware of what Genshin Impact even is in the first place...” He rose his body up again and crossed his arms while scolding your attitude.

“What are you talking about..? I’m not—!” You scoffed at what he said about you, but as soon as you remembered again that you were talking to some random, crazy cosplayer of your college, that probably had to stalk you to find out you played Genshin Impact, and that you had a duty to do, you stopped trying to defend yourself, and changed topics. “You know what? Just get out of my dorm, please.” You told the man while using a hand to push the door back to its place frenetically, trying to make him unable to react due to the lack of time.

"Wow, wow, wow, young lady!” You felt the door stiffen at one specific spot before it was fully closed, leaving a small gap between the interior and exterior of your apartment.

Your eyes widened in shock with the man’s audacity and strength, and immediately looked down to see what had happened with your door. ‘Wanderer’ had stomped his foot forward before you could shut the door, serving as an obstacle for the door to not be smacked in his face.

“Is this how you treat your favorite character after he makes the effort of coming all the way from another universe just to check on you?” You could see his eye showing up between that gap, trying to keep making eye contact with you.

“Are you insane?!” You screamed at him, trying to push the door shut with your both palms now, but it didn’t seem to affect him minimally.

You heard him sigh loudly in boredom again, and this time he sneaked his hand through the gap. Instead of doing something physical or harmful to your or your door, it actually did something that made your jaw drop.

An orb.

And not just any orb.

It was an orb that perfectly resembled how Wanderer used his Anemo powers in Genshin. It was a vertex with a black center and Anemo-colored, wind-like, effects around it. Something that also called your attention were the shiny flying wristbands around his wrists, spinning according to how intensely he used his powers.

It was jaw-dropping enough for you to accidentally drop your grip from the door, which finally made the man successful in opening it. Unlike what you would expected from a maniacal cosplayer or the actual Wanderer from Genshin Impact, he simply walked in and closed the door gently, crossing his arms later while staring at your dumbfounded face.

“Was that enough proof? Or do you need me to open a portal, bring to you Tevyat and talk to Nahida to believe that I’m the one and only Wanderer from Genshin Impact?” He asked while walking around your room like he owned it.

“I…” You couldn’t even mumble an answer to everything you had just witnessed.

This had to be some sort of dark joke being done with you, isn’t it?!

“Cat got your tongue again?!“ He turned around just scold you again while directly staring at you, but he frowned his eyebrows right after and put a hand on his chin to think. “Perhaps I wronged the address…” He mumbled quietly, his head frenetically looking at many corners of your room in search of something.

When he saw your computer, whose screen had turned black due to the lack of movement in the mouse, he rushed to it and sat on your chair, his back leaning in a very unhealthy angle. He quickly shook the mouse to turn it on again, meeting his own face stamped at the screen.

“This computer is yours, isn’t it?” Despite your lack of answer to his question, he simply took your silence as an ‘yes’. “Ok, you’ve saved more than 200 wishes… which I’m guessing is for me…” He mumbled to himself, showing a little bit of his ego, while pressing ‘Esc’ with a finger twice.

His eyes widened a little bit when he met the game’s menu and he immediately leaned his body up again with a big, proud smirk in his face.

“Aha! So you are a fan of mine, and a proud one!” He put his hands in the sides of your computer and spun it until the computer’s screen was visible to your eyes.

(Yes that’s my UID. Yes I had to change my name and bio to that for the sake of this fanfic.)

Your cheeks flushed.

How come you’ve never realized how embarrassing this description was?!

“H-Hey! That was a joke I did with my friends!” You ran towards him, trying to stop him from looking at anything else at your game’s account.

“A joke?! Alright then, bet.” He put a hand in front of your chest to hold your body in place, also grabbing on a wrist to make you watch him messing around with your computer.

With his other hand on your keyboard, he pressed Alt+Tab with his thumb and index, immediately landing at Google. You were thankfully not doing anything weird at the moment, after all, all he met on the screen was homework, but that didn’t seem to be what he was looking for.

“You named your AO3 tab ‘Calculator’?! Really?! That’s pathetic!” He pointed directly at the AO3 tab in your favorited pages until the tip of his finger was putting pressure on it, causing you to flush. “What else do we have here..? AO3, Wattpad, Tumblr… oh? I don’t recognize this one.” He clicked at the very last tab, which made you gasp in embarrassment.

“W-Wait, no! Don’t click on tha—!”

AzeruOfficial

The name immediately popped in big, orange letters as soon as his finger pressed on the left side of your mouse, causing him to explode in laugher.

“Azeru?! You listen to this guy’s ASMRs?! Oh, please, why did I even doubt this was the wrong address? The Nahida profile picture was enough to tell that you were a fan of mine. Do you think that’d bring you luck?” He finally rose from your chair and walked close to you while sitting for an answer.

But once again, you couldn’t answer. It would be really embarrassing to admit to your favorite fictional character that you were doing multiple mini rituals to attack more luck in your pulls.

“You know what, Y/N woman? I’ll tell you a secret… we, playable characters of gacha games actually have the powers to choose who wins and who loses 50/50. Nahida chose who won her 50/50s, Cyno chose who won his 50/50s… and I’m about to do the same now with all the desperate people that want me in their accounts, including you! But the thing is… you know how I am, don’t you? I’m gonna judge every little detail about the people who are wishing for me. That means you’re up to judged too! But… I’m gonna give you a personal chance to win my 50/50s… with a deal.” He rose his hands until they landed on your shoulders, massaging them slowly and got closer to your ear with a big smirk on his lips. “I’m gonna get rid of your sexual frustrations, and you’ll get rid of mine.” He initiated, immediately making your eyes widen again.

“WHAT—?!” You tried protesting, but he immediately moved a down to smack your mouth shut.

“We’re gonna have sex, and every orgasm either one of us have, we’ll do a ten-pull! That’ll happen until you finally get the luck of pulling a five-star, which will be around 7 or 8 rounds. There, I’ll be finally judging whether you should win me or not based on how well you satisfy me. If you fail to win the 50/50, then I’ll guess you’ll be owing me another 9 rounds with a total of 18 rounds…” His cheeks grew pink while he explained his idea, his smirk becoming more sadistic and horny within every second.

You pushed his hand away from your mouth while shaking your head side-to-side too in denial and still keeping your fingers around his worst to make sure he wasn’t going to make anything else to you or your home.

“No! You can’t just barge in my apartment, invade my privacy, and then ask me to have se with you?! I don’t care if you are the real Wanderer or not, this is too much for me!” You screamed at him, but it wasn’t enough for his confidence to die.

“Oh, Y/N, Y/N…” One of his hands moved to your face to hold and caress your cheek. “It’s obvious that you daydream about having sex with me, you’re no innocent woman. Nobody uses AO3 to read SFW shit or listens to Azeru for his SFW audios...” He shook his hand away from your grip and put it on his chest.

You watched his fingers teasingly rub his chest, making your fingers beg for them to be there, until they were at his shoulders, where he slowly pushed his white kimono away from his shoulder, revealing the black-transparent suit he wore under it in a way that made your stomach ache with butterflies.

“I’m the dick you want to proudly ride in that profile description, Y/N.” His forehead slowly leaned closer to yours until they were touching, causing your noses to touch each other next too, and finally… your lips were sealed together.

10 wishes:

Wanderer decided to begin his little game by making you do exactly what your description said: riding him. So, now he was sat lazily at your chair, legs spread, but still with most of his clothes on, while you were hopping up and down on his dick, naked, like you were addicted to it.

“Such a cute little fan… using all your strength to accomplish your sexual need of fucking your favorite fictional character…” Wanderer praised you while giggling in appreciation, deciding to move a hand to pinch your nipple playfully, causing you to scream in the spot.

“AAaaaaAHhh~! Fuck, Scara~!” You arched your back and scratched your nails on his shoulders to contain the pleasure he gave you with his touch.

He giggled again, and moved his other hand to your thigh, squeezing it while trying to also use it to pull you closer to him.

“Why are you arching away from me? You’re supposed to be be enjoying me! Come on…” His husky, dominant voice made you immediately push yourself at his direction until your head landed right between his neck and shoulders.

God, almighty.

Now you wouldn’t leave that position even if a teacher banged on your door with your test’s grades on their hands. Such an intimate position was making your pussy gush around his cock.

Your entire body was swirled with his, which meant that every part of your body touching a part of his body. Your legs spread apart, attempting to hug his waist, your arms moving to his back to feel and scratch his every cell, your mouth drooling on his skin…

You were like some true parasite.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” The ecstasy of sex was numbing your mind into exactly what Wanderer wanted, a cock-hungry slut.

“Good girl… you’re doing really well…” His hand in your thigh rolled down until he was making contact with your ass, proceeding to tap one of the buttocks repeatedly. “You’re really fucking soaked, aren’t you? God, I’ve never heard a pussy doing such mushy noises…” He took advantage of how your head was positioned under him to whisper directly in your ear, making you shiver due to his teasing tone.

“It’s too much! Too much!” You whimpered pathetically, but Wanderer simply ignored and denied you and kept his hands where they were, refusing to help you in the slightest.

“Is my cock making you feel this good, hum?” He threw his head back in the chair, enjoying his peace in that position.

“Ah, yes! I can’t even… believe I’m actually fucking with you..!” Your arms moved upwards to hug his neck in pure need of more words coming out of his mouth.

“Worthless little whore… unwilling to fuck anyone in this enormous school to keep your pussy for a drawing you only see in your screen… I like the dedication, tho, don’t get me wrong~.” He unexpectedly slapped your buttock as an aggressive way to praise and degrade you.

Your walls clenched around him when he did that, causing a deep groan to echo in his throat.

“Oh-ho? Looks like I’m dealing with a masochist! I wonder how else you��re gonna impress me…” He teased you in the ear again.

“I think I’m gonna…” You couldn’t even finish a sentence due to the overstimulation, rubbing your face against his shoulder in worship for the man you were giving yourself to.

“You’re gonna cum? Own… what a cute little kitten… I wish I could help you with that…” He kept his body unmoved in pure laziness of helping you reach an orgasm, leaving you to do all the effort on your own.

You unfortunately needed to push yourself away from him to hop faster and preciser at his cock. Wanderer’s eyes glowed in joy miring at how your sexes were intertwined with each other like they were made for each other, specifically smirking at how his cock was glistened with your arousal.

Your hands instinctively rolled down until your fingers were threaded with his. Just like all the AO3 fanfictions described him to be, his whole body felt soft like pillows, but cold as ice, so his fingers were causing you to feel even more stimulated. You gripped them like you’d die if you ever let go, while he stared up and down at your bouncing body with a perverted smirk that only seemed to grow more and more. You couldn’t believe you were actually riding the cock of favorite fictional character. All you intended to do tonight was simply pulling for him and his weapon, but not plans have changed… for good.

And finally, the aching bulge growing in your womb had finally reached a peak of anticipation and blew all the way down to Wanderer’s cock, which you left perfectly placed at your g-spot, bullying it while your orgasm came down like an angry river. Your whole body trembled and shivered with the orgasm, saliva pooling your mouth.

“My, my…” Wanderer finally decided to move his body, and hooked his sandals in the floor to pull and roll the chair closer to the table where your computer was lying at. “Let’s see if that orgasm is worth an early pity to Hoyoverse…” He moved a hand to pat your head while the other moved to your mouse. “Look at it.” He fisted your hair right and angled it until at least one of your eyes could mire the screen.

The clicker was already resting at the ‘Ten Pull’ option, and he gave himself some seconds before clicking it.

✧ ✦ ✧

You sighed in broken expectation.

“Well… seems like we have some more rounds to go for, don’t we? Hey, at least you got a Faruzan! Perhaps she’s liking to see your determination in pleasing me… the man she was made for.”

20 Pulls:

You never thought you’d find yourself screaming so loud and shameless because of the precision of a man’s thrusts, especially because you knew there would be complaints about it tomorrow.

Shy, quiet, little Y/N being slammed against her own walls by an unreal man. Could it be any more pathetic?

“You seem to be really enjoying this, aren’t you? You even lost sense of your surroundings! You’re between hundreds of dorms, where everyone is quiet and asleep at this time, yet, you still keep screaming like a dog in heat because of the most basic pounding I could ever do to you.” Wanderer pulled your hair from behind using a hand, forcing you to arch your body even more than it already was, while the other one was being used to lock your wrists behind your back together.

Your hands were scratching the concrete walls you were being pushed against so deeply that you could swear you could break it at any moment.

“Or is that… you want people to know you’re being pounded like a whore in here..?” He giggled at that possibility sadistically, enjoying how fucked-out your face already was.

He suddenly pushed your head against the wall again.

“Let me test it, if you may…” His thrusts became faster, bullying your g-spot in a way that made your eyes roll up until you could see starts.

“Tell me, Y/N, are you enjoying being pounded like a fuck-toy by your favorite character, hum?” He leaned down so he could bite your ear while whispering inside it at such a teasing tone.

He grunted right after making it due to your pussy clenching around his cock once again.

“Aahhhh!! Yes! Yes, I am!” You confessed it shamelessly. It really didn’t matter if anyone could hear you screaming. You were usually a victim of these love-making noises, so, now it was your time to make those horny neighbors animals feel your pain.

“Fucking proud slut… Do you think your parents would like to know their daughter is fucking with a pixel?” He continued his degradation. “That their daughter is being used as a cock-sleeve for me while you won’t even get the opportunity to cum?” That line made your eyes widen in shock and slight fear, which made his smile grow in arousal.

“I… won’t..?” You could barely finish your sentence, but it wasn’t necessary for Wanderer, he could understand it all.

“Duh! I’m the one in control of everything in here! You’ll just accept everything that I give you, and I know you’ll enjoy every single second of it because it’s me who’s doing it! The 6th Fatui Harbinger… a puppet created by the almighty Electro Archon… a man who barely has any empathy in his heart…” He pushed the side of your head harder against the wall. “Now, hold your hat, missy! I’m about to cum and I don’t want you to waste a single drop of me, ok?” He talked to you in a sweet, ironic voice, trying to comfort you for the moment that was about to come, when the truth was that he was desperate to see you suffering.

But, finally, he stopped talking and degrading you to focus entirely on his cock bullying your cervix, ravishing your inside like a mush entirely for his pleasure.

Finally, Wanderer punched his cock shut against your cervix, beginning to blow all of his cum inside your womb. He didn’t dare let any of your body to move so you’d take every drop of him in. You screamed due to the slight burn in your womb that his orgasm caused that only fueled Wanderer’s pleasure while spasming.

“Good fucking girl…” He grunted with a deep voice while his dick still spilled thick ropes of cum inside you.

Finally, when it was over, he let your wrists and head go. You rested both parts against the wall, seeing how your wrists were now marked in red because of his gri on them.

He pulled out of you after a few seconds enjoying your warmth surrounding him so passionately. He couldn’t believe he was finding himself so addicted to the feeling of your puffy pussy, so a few butterflies kicked his stomach feeling how your flesh was swollen in arousal, and how its tone had turned into a light pink due to all the movement that has been happening to it.

“Come here, princess…” You felt his hands pull you backwards, quickly turning you over and lifting you up in the air, holding you princess-style while walking around the room.

He walked towards your computer again, your eyes meeting the wishing screen again.

“Go ahead…” He whispered in your ear, influencing one of your resting arms to immediately act in obedience.

Your trembling hand rested on top of the mouse, which was still landed on the 10-Pull button, and you clicked the left side of it.

✧ ✦ ✧

Wanderer giggled at the purple meteor shining at the screen, and even more when you managed to reach the top of the screen and click “Skip”, only to find out there wasn’t even a Faruzan.

“I’m very sorry for that…”

30 Pulls:

“Now, I wasn’t expecting you to accept such an inhumane treatment. When you find a real man to love and care for, are you willing to sell your dignity like this to him?” Wanderer asked while staring at your face like he wasn’t jacking off to you in the most embarrassing position you could ever find yourself in.

Wanderer had mysteriously pulled out two cuffs and a vibrator from nowhere. The cuffs were being used to lock your legs upside down, against your bed’s corner pillars, while he forced your hands to work on your nipples, pinching and squeezing them. While the vibrator was being used to fuck your pussy nonstop, with the extra tease of the vibrations. You didn’t even know your legs could be pulled away from their original position this much, but now, your pussy was entirely exposed to Wanderer with no obstacles, and with no chance of possibly containing that tortuous pleasure that was numbing your mind again.

“I… I..!” You couldn’t answer such an humiliating question.

“Of course you are. It’s written all over your pathetic face.” He suddenly leaned down closer to your face, simply to slap across your pussy hard, causing your legs to shiver, but the way the cuffs prohibited them from reacting too much, making loud metal noises, amused his eyes and ears. “Haha… you really enjoy this sort of treatment, don’t you? I might just take even more advantage of it as well…” You felt his fingers trace all the way down from your bellybutton to your clit, where he meanly pinched it using two fingers.

“NghAaaAHHHh?! Fuck, Wanderer, pleeeeasee!” You whimpered and screamed while a few forming tears glistened your exhausted eyes, and your hips and legs tried to contain the amount of overwhelming pleasure again.

Wanderer smiled like a maniac at the scene.

“What a lovely scene…” He looked down at your pussy, admiring the view of the vibrator thrusting you tortuously at a slow, medium force. “You know what? No need to torture your poor nipples anymore. Use your hands on my dick and worship me, you whore.” He grabbed your right wrist with his other hand and placed your hand right at his tip.

“I don’t know how to… do this…” You whimpered, begging for some mercy, but he simply sighed in boredom in response.

“How many times have you ever even slept with a man, huh? You never did a handjob your entire life?” He scoffed at you. But thankfully, he moved the same hand that was on your clit and placed it perfectly on top of it, and shaped it in a way that perfectly made your fingers hold his cock.

He started to stroke both your hands up and down, trying to guide you into the basic steps of it.

“This is mostly how to stroke a dick, now use your pretty mouth and praise me, bitch.” He guided you with a softer voice, a little merciful at your situation.

You sighed in relief when you felt clit relaxing from all the pain and overstimulation, which immediately called his attention.

“Oh, you think I’m being merciful?” He giggled at you, impeding you from even starting to think about a praise for him, and used his free hand to grab the vibrator’s controller again.

“Force: Maximum… Speed: Medium.” He repeated the adjusts he did to the vibrator according to how his thumb pushed the sliders of it.

Your head rolled backwards in agony of the vibrations being rougher inside you, reaching even deeper parts of your body at a faster pace. More tears rolled down at your face, and your grip tightened around his length instinctively.

“Hummmm… that’s it…” He licked his lips in satisfaction of what he was doing to you while running his other hand in your head playfully. “Keep jacking me off just like that until I cum again.” He took his hand away from yours, now leaving you without any sort of guidance.

But you kept going for it. Although your body was barely keeping up with the vibrator’s effects on you, your mind insisted on reaching both your and his orgasm like it was your only mission in your life, after all, it was your favorite character who you were fucking with.

“Faster, slut. I’m close.” He managed to step a little closer to you so you could stroke him faster, although his knees and legs were already being limited by your bed.

You swallowed all that pooled saliva in your mouth down, trying to stabilize yourself better and focus on achieving both your orgasms. Your clit was also slightly throbbing, slowly growing the amount and intensity of your soon-to-come orgasm.

Wanderer’s cock was slowly leaking pre-cum out of his tip, lubricating your fingers with the help of your own liquids that remained glistened around him. It facilitated your handjob, and it felt even better to Wanderer. To make his orgasm faster, you suddenly had the idea of letting most of your fingers go, only leaving your thumb and your index to do the stroking. You also made sure the size of the circle you did barely fit his length, making the experience slightly painful to him for squeezing him hard, but also suffocating his orgasm to come out as soon as possible. It’s like your fingers were tying to purposefully pump cum out of him.

“You freaking…” Wanderer’s degradations were fortunately being overshadowed by his own pleasure. “It looks like you’ll die without this…” He giggled at your pathetic face. “Don’t worry… it’s about to come. Are you cumming too?” His voice changed to a softer one again.

“Yes, yes! I am, I am!” You screamed in anticipation, enjoying the sensation of vibrator farming an orgasm from you just more and more, quicker than any dick you’ve ever taken.

“Own… that’s too bad.” He suddenly moved a hand down to the vibrator and ripped it away from your hole in a single move.

You screamed in agony feeling your womb ache in pain from the torture of being unfulfilled, trying to reach anything to cum. You desperately tried to reach a hand to your clit, but Wanderer immediately reacted and held it in place with a hand before you could reach it.

“Nuh-uh…” That was the last thing you heard from him before a sudden load of cum started spasming all over your face and chest while Wanderer giggled and moaned in appreciation and fulfilled pleasure.

Even if you were mad for not being allowed to cum, your hand couldn’t help but keep doing its job, even when he was already cumming, or if he had denied you so meanly.

“You look beautiful with cum thrown all around your face like a porn star…” He fisted his length and aimed it better on your face, just to make sure no drop would be thrown in the sheets or pillow. “Pathetic.” His eyebrows frowned, trying to focus his eyes entirely on you. “Are you enjoying having your favorite character cumming around you like some worthless cock-sleeve, hum?” He slapped your hands away from his length and proceeded to guard his dick back to his pants again and begun walking away from you, no matter how needy you were.

Your eyes followed his figure, meeting him leaning down at your table and messing with your computer again.

“I guess I do…” You answered him question.

“Pft… you weren’t actually supposed to answer it, but I’m glad you love me this much. Let’s see if Hoyoverse recognizes your love for me, tho!” He moved to a farther corner, allowing your eyes to mire the screen better as he clicked in the same 10-Pull button.

✧ ✦ ✧

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Wanderer crossed his arms and clicked the ‘Skip’ button at the top-corner of your screen before the wishing animation was even done. “Hey, at least Faruzan is watching us! She says you’re deserving of me.” He suddenly turned to you to make that comment.

“Faruzan is… what..?” Your eyes widened a little.

“She can watch us! Gorou and Yanfei can watch us too, actually. Want to say ‘hi’ to her?” He begun walking closer to you again.

“N-No..?!” You immediately nodded your head side-to-side, trying to somehow turn your body away from him, if their perspective came from his eyes.

“Ok, ok! Chill…”

40 Pulls:

“I think I should begin doing to every fan I visit, you know? God, my dick is fucking pulsating because of this shit.” Wanderer said between many deep grunts, arching his head all the way up to the roof while he rolled his feet in the floor.

He was now making you suck his cock while he peacefully sat on your chair, and you were knelt down, still with all that cum spat around your face and the vibrator shoved down at your pussy but in a lower setting. He also made sure to cuff your wrists together behind your back to make sure you had no control over your own pleasure, and just focused on him, no matter how bad the torture was affecting you.

“Sucking me so well… You’re a natural one, aren’t you? You’re just a little smarter for not selling yourself as the whore that you are. But honestly, what could be better than a slutty nerd for a straight man?” Wanderer patted your head with delight, but at the same time still pushing and pulling it up and down on his cock, making you do your job exactly how he likes it.

You were struggling to not choke or gag on his cock, but it was hard, especially when he was looking forward to push all of himself inside you. Luckily, he was being more merciful, for some reason, and you wouldn’t say ‘no’ to it, especially when you believed he would deny your orgasm again.

“This is getting a little boring… should I torture your poor pussy a little bit more..?” He suddenly used the same hand that patted you to pull your hair back, forcing you to do eye-contact with him. “Poor you… can’t even say a word to my question… I guess I’ll just guess that you’d like to say ‘yes’ because you’re a horny slut who’s love to be sucking my cock.” He moved his other hand and grabbed in the controller that was resting in the arm-rest.

When he officially slid the ‘Speed’ option to the right, meaning it has increased, you couldn’t help but open your jaw even wider to let a scream out in satisfaction, but it led you to gag on him right after.

“Good girl… not even daring to pull your mouth away from my cock even if it’s making it harder for you to breathe...” Instead of typically patting your head in praise, he tapped your right cheek with his palm a couple of times, with a strength that made your skin slightly sting, but not enough to make you complain about it. “I might even let you cum…” He angled his head, trying to admire the view of he had of your wet lips wrapping around him, cleaning the stains that were left by you previously, while also trying to act like he was feeling bad for your situation.

Deep down, Wanderer didn’t really care. As long as he got to fill your mouth with his cum and to watch you quiver because of it, he would edge you and fuck you however he liked.

“Prepared, my little proud fan?” His grip in your hair tightened as he stared deep down at your exhausted eyes.

You nodded and tried to relax your jaw for him to fuck your mouth as he desired. It was hurting, anyway, so it felt good to have a reason to do it without being degraded for it.

Wanderer stood up when he felt your teeth piercing his cock with less strength, knowing that would be the perfect position and occasion for him to fuck your throat.

He started thrusting you, and his hips immediately begun crashing against yours erratically, causing a few drops of saliva to gush from your mouth due to how overworked you were. You still could muffle a few moans from the stimulus in your clit and accept his dominance, which Wanderer deeply appreciated, while he allowed his head to angle in direction of the roof, and his own grunts and moans fill the room shamelessly.

“Don’t fucking swallow everything immediately, you hear me?” He took out some of his frustration on you, and you nodded to his order immediately.

With no sort of warning, Wanderer suddenly pushed and locked his entire length shoved down your throat, reaching the deepest he could, which caused you immediately gag. It was even harder now that he was also spilling thick ropes of cum around that overwhelmed your mouth so much, but you couldn’t get rid of them, or else your pussy was going to be a victim of lots of torture.

Wan while he orgasmed, Wanderer pulled and pushed his cock in and out a few times to make sure every corner of your velvety mouth had a little bit of him while he smirked at the roof in ecstasy.

After a final thrust and blow of cum, he pulled out, causing a ‘pop’ sound to come out from your moth, and a few saliva strings to connect your lips to his cock. He leaned his head down to you again and pulled your head upwards to meet his eyes. Luckily, your jaw had been so abused that it remained dropped even when he pulled out, meaning that he wouldn’t need to order you to open it and show the mess he had done in there.

“I hin I onna—” You tried warning him about your coming orgasm, trying your best to not close your lips together, but Wanderer didn’t seem to care, only focusing his eyes in your fucked-out mouth.

“Shh, shh, shh.” He kneeled down in front of you and used a hand to hold you by your cheeks, forcing your mouth locked open while he inspected it.

Wanderer couldn’t help but giggle at the mess he did on you, 100% satisfied with his own work.

“Pathetic fucking slut…” For some reason, Wanderer let go of your jaw for a quick moment just give your left cheek a quick smack with his palm, but before your head could recoil, he hooked your cheeks again back to their place. “Don’t you dare cum without my permission, whore. Now, swallow.” You slowly closed your mouth and sucked all the cum and saliva that pooled in the meantime down to your tongue, and you finally pushed it all in, trying to make it as visible as possible to him.

Wanderer licked his lips when he watched that bulge of cum run down your throat.

“Good girl.” He finally rose his knees up again, beginning to walk towards the computer.

Your toes curled while you tried your best to contain your coming orgasm, but your position really wasn’t on favor of that. But you insisted on that, anyway.

Wanderer held your mouse and turned back to stare at you while he pulled in his own banner. It was lovely for him to watch you worming in the floor while being edged by both a vibrator and a screen.

“Aaaaannnd…” He clicked the mouse gently.

✧ ✦ ✧

“My, my… today is not really your day, is it?”

“Scara, I can’t hold it anymore!” You whimpered for his mercy, your head curling down until your forehead was rubbing against the floor.

“Tch… can’t even get a grip of yourself.” He pulled out the controller from his shorts and slid both options of it to the left, setting both the force and speed to zero.

You couldn’t help but tear down a little bit, feeling that precious peak of pleasure flow away from your womb, while you could hear Wanderer hum a giggle in his throat in pure sadistic arousal of denying you.

50 Pulls:

Finally, your pussy wasn’t being degraded or neglected anymore.

“Holy shit, Scara! You’re gonna break me!” Your back arched against the bed, your head restless in the pillow, and your hands trying their best to push Wanderer’s tongue against your swollen clit.

“Was that supposed to be a bad thing?” His eyes angled up to meet yours, trying to contain a giggle to focus on licking your clit.

Wanderer was the one giving you a blowjob now. His mouth doing wonders in your clit and his middle and index fingers thrusting your swollen pussy in a quick, tortuous pace.

“Please, slow down!” You whimpered loudly but neither his tongue or fingers obliged to your pleas.

“Why?” He initiated, but paused to make sure your clit’s stimulation would not die. “I thought you wanted an orgasm…” His tongue’s tip immediately begun circling your clit to every limit it could reach, causing your thighs to tremble and hug his head tighter against their fluffiness while your mouth screamed high-pitch. “Fuck, your thighs are so soft… How come I haven’t messed with them yet?” You saw his other free arm circling your entire thigh, using his fingers to caress and squeeze it as he wished. “Fuck…” Wanderer moaned.

Before you could enjoy too much of his soft fingers in your thighs, Wanderer suddenly pulled a move that you weren’t expecting to happen. You felt him pull out his middle finger from you but keep his index finger, curling it upward and beginning to rub the tip of finger at your g-spot.

The scream that came out of your throat was feral. You had no idea such level of pleasure was even possible at the first place.

“Here it is…” You heard him groan like a hungry predator when he saw how you reacted to that, and proceeded to keep bullying that spot.

And of course, as soon as he stopped talking, he immediately placed his tongue back to your clit, teasing the most sensitive spots in your body mercilessly, chasing that orgasm like his life depended on it too.

Your hands were threading in the deepest roots of his indigo hair and you were sure you’d have a sore throat the next morning. Loud moans just couldn’t stop escaping your pretty lips, all of them reaching Wanderer’s ears like music. He was loving every second of that round of sex, especially being squeezed by your thighs.

“Oh my God!” You couldn’t hold it back when he started sucking your clit again, and your chest rose upwards in a blink, now sitting on the bed.

It gave you more power, and you definitely used the advantage to try grinding your pussy against his head harder.

“I’m close! I’m so close! Please don’t edge me again! Please, please, please!” You tried your best to lock your thighs around him with a strength that he wouldn’t manage to get rid off, but Wanderer didn’t feel slightly threatened by it.

He was going to make sure you orgasmed a river of cum around him. After all, it would be natural of you to cum hard due to all the edging he had done to you.

“Tease your nipples. It’ll help.” He ordered with a more serious tone, truly focusing his mouth and fingers into their objective.

A hand of yours slid upwards and begun touching your breasts exactly how you like it. The other hand obviously remained at the back of his head. Wanderer grunted in pleasure with the newest view he had of you sitting above of him, his bricked dick pushing his pants to get out of them, aching and trembling in need to get inside a hole as soon as possible.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You curled your body when the heat from pinching your nipples and squeezing your breasts started fueling the pleasure your clit felt.

It really didn’t take seconds until that building climax of yours was finally released by your womb, freeing your pussy from all that previous edging. You threw your body back at the bed, spasming in the sheets, but your hand kept pushing his head against your flesh forcefully, trying to make him take in every single string of cum of that heavy orgasm. Wanderer decided to oblige to you and your personal wish of cumming inside his mouth and moved his mouth down to your hole and pushed his tongue in, while pulling out his finger out of you.

Just like you previously did, Wanderer kept his mouth ready and open to receive every drop of cum that ran down to your tongue. Thankfully, you tasted bitter, which is his favorite kind of flavor, so he really didn’t mind the enormous loads of cum that ran down, licking and swallowing them all like a meal. His hands kept caressing your thighs, trying to keep stimulating you and your body to explode all that cum in your womb down his mouth and liberate some storage for the next rounds.

Your whole body melted down as soon as it was over, and Wanderer finally rose his head up again.

“You have a wonderful taste, dear.” He praised while swallowing the final drops of cum that hadn’t gone down to his throat yet.

Wanderer proceeded to get out of the bed, and once again walk to the computer like he hasn’t just fucked your brains out.

While whistling a melody, he clicked the ‘10-Pull’ button another time.

✧ ✦ ✧

“Still nothing… what pity are you on right now? I forgot to check that before beginning pulling.” He turned his head to you, staring at you aloof.

“I think… I think I was at 10 pulls before…” You mumbled an answer while you regained some consciousness. Having such a heavy orgasm had really exhausted your brain at the moment.

“Then we have approximately two rounds left if I believe you deserve to win your 50/50.” He begun walking to you again with a smirk already growing in his lips and his hand undoing his pants another time.

60 Pulls:

“Such a fucking receptive pussy you have..!” He grunted while trying his best to cage his moans in the back of his throat, his voice sounding husky and exhausted.

You left him really hungry when he decided to be nice to you and suck your pussy dry. When he was fingering your g-spot, all that ran in his mind was the imagery of his cock doing that to you instead, so that’s exactly what he decided to do. Fuck you in a mating press.

Down at your cervix, the tip of cock punched the depths of your pussy nonstop, his words suddenly becoming hungrier and greedier for you. It didn’t surprise you that Wanderer had a slight kink in breeding and just rough sex over all.

“You’re gonna take every drop of me inside again, okay? I bet it’d make you happy to be fucking pregnant with my babies, wouldn’t it, you fucking whore?” He endlessly pounded your g-spot, talking and acting like he wasn’t panting and sweating like a nasty dog.

Wanderer chuckled miring down at your fucked-out face, panting and drooling with his forceful thrusts, but still doing his best to not slow down.

“Such a cute little doll…” He praised you, but his tone made it sound more like a degradation. “Nahida was right when she let you win her 50/50… You were a dedicated fan to this game… and to me.” He giggled as he thought of all those little efforts you were doing to ‘attract luck’ for your wishes on him.

Wanderer’s hands, who were busy pressing your legs against the sheet, tightened around them, slightly scratching your skin. It caused you to hiss and look away from him, which he seemed to immediately repel.

“No, no, dear… keep your pretty eyes on me.” You decided to comply to his sweet, serious tone, but his indigo eyes, glistening and shining in arousal, were applying a lot of pressure on you and your performance, causing your cheeks to flush and your eyes to flick away from his a few times. “Now you’re embarrassed, hum? No need to be, dear… don’t you think I’ve seen it all already? All your intimacy? All the times this pretty pussy of yours clenched around me because of the most inhumane treatment, hum?” Wanderer approached his face to yours, your foreheads and noses rubbing against each other.

You swallowed some saliva down, trying to somehow gather courage to stare at his eyes in agreement with his words. It worked, but if you could turn your face away for the rest of it, you definitely would. You couldn’t believe Wanderer was that incited and determined to make you stare at him while having sex. Did he really find you sexy in this state? Pretty? Or hot? You couldn’t help but be embarrassed.

It didn’t matter. Something else was teasing you and taking your attention away at the moment. Your lips would sometimes touch his by accident every time he smacked his hips down against yours. It was making you go insane. You really wanted to kiss him and learn how does Wanderer from Genshin Impact kiss, but you had no idea if he’d accept it or if this was a good moment for it… Even if you couldn’t decide whether you did or did not go for it, your lips couldn’t help but grind against his every time they touched, and he obviously noticed.

“You want to kiss me, hum? I can see you trying to reach me every time we touch… Unfortunately I only do favors for people if they ask me very kindly, using the magic words… or making them beg for it…” He looked at you with shining eyes, already creating big expectations.

“Please, please, please..! Let me kiss you! At least once! Just once!” You whined while directly staring at his eyes like he desires, which was making him extremely passionate about you, his balls burning and yearning for more of that eager submission of yours.

“Good fucking girl…” His voice was hoarse and husky with how overwhelmingly good you were making him feel.

It was making him obsessed with the idea chasing a double orgasm.

“Are you close?” He asked while intensifying his pace.

“Yes… please let me cum this time with you!” You begged to him, which made his smirk grow in arousal.

“You want to cum with me, hum?” He looked forward to make you say even more pathetic things.

“Please..!” You whimpered while his cock poked your g-spots and wet slap noises from your hips surrounded the room.

“You know what? I’m gonna let you do that just because I want to make sure every little sperm of mine swims to your fucking womb.” The way his eyes widened and stared at the deepest corners of yours seemed to aroused your pussy even more. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” You screamed while feeling your womb build just more and more anticipation.

And with a final pump of his cock, the both of your cores started spasming cum another time. You and him were grunting and scratching each other as if you were both going to pass out. Obviously Wanderer tried to maintain his posture to pose as this unbeatable, untouchable man to you, but you knew those thick loads of cum being ejaculated on you were all proof that he was loving every single second of those rounds of animalistic sex. And you simply let yourself tremble and worm under him, knowing it was something lovely to him.

When you two were finally done spilling cum at each other, Wanderer finally looked down at where you two were connected and begun pulling his dick out very slowly. He admired watching his cock making such wet, slimy noises due to its contact with your pussy, even if he was moving the slowest pace ever, revealing itself to be all creamy and lubricated the more he pulled out.

“Let’s see if this is finally it…” Wanderer stroked his cock a few times knelt down in your bed before jumping out of it to excitedly walk to your computer another time.

Click.

✧ ✦ ✧

“What a shame…” He punctuated every syllable of his sentence, trying to make it as obvious as possible that he was actually happy about the fact that you didn’t get any Five-Star pull yet. “At least you got two Faruzan copies for two orgasms…” He giggled at the final results of the pull.

70 Pulls:

Wanderer was genuinely more thoughtful and caring in this round, especially because the both of you believed it would be the last one. He decided to service your eyes and finally become entirely naked. It wasn’t anything jaw-dropping, but you did like the few Anemo-colored tattoos he had around his body, especially the one behind his neck, symbolizing his true identity.

You two were back to the bed again, but this time he was thrusting you sideways, while you simply laid down and tried to reach your hands in his body and feel his soft skin.

“You know…” Since he was fucking you nice and slow this time, you could finally have proper conversations with him. “What the heck did you mean with ‘Kabukimono and the Balladeer will cease to exist.’ in the trailer? Does that have anything to do with your redesign and your new name? It doesn’t look 100% good in my opinion, but what can I do about it..? I wish Hoyo had given you a better design…” Wanderer scoffed at that last sentence.

“As soon as you play the new mission, you’ll find it why, and you’ll regret those words a lot. Do you even have any idea of why I became a Harbinger in the first place? ” He whispered right at your ear while one of his hands squeezed a breast of yours gently.

His mouth was softly biting your neck, trying to get a taste of your skin with it and his hands too. His whole body was trying its best to wrap and feel yours, showing a romantic side you’d never expect from him.

You wondered if he ever made his way under another character’s pants… or other fans…

You hated that possibility. You were enjoying this intimate moment with him and daydreaming with the possibility of him being yours and yours only.

“No idea, Scara…” You tried rolling your body in his direction, trying to be closer to him.

“I won’t give you any spoilers…” Wanderer didn’t do anything about your need for his affection and closure, tho.

Perhaps it was still fun for him to deny you even in moments where kinks weren’t involved.

“You feel so good…” You decided to praise him, a hand of yours raising to caress his head while he sucked your neck like a vampire.

“You feel great too.” He pressed many smooches at your cheek and neck while you two shared compliments. “It even has me praying for you to not get a five star in the next pulls… Perhaps I can also make you lose 50/50 purposefully just to keep my dick in this pussy of yours for a little longer.” His voice has husky, moaning and grunting at how your gushy pussy was making a mess of him down there.

Wanderer gave a few glances down at your connected crotches, admiring your curves in the way, but wanting to admire the lovemaking scenario down there. Your gummy walls letting him slide in and out so easily, gushing some liquids all the way down to his balls due to the overstimulation, your sweaty skin rubbing against his... And now his hands were 100% addicted to your thighs. Even if he needed to occupy a hand to hold one of your legs up, he took the opportunity to play with them too, brushing the tips of all his fingers up and down your skin.

It was so stimulating to have him teasing so many parts of your body at the same time, you couldn’t help but begin whimpering again, desiring for more.

“Faster! Please!” Your desperate immediately made Wanderer react to it.

It felt like his dick naturally started going faster just for the sake of hearing you whine his name and desperate orders while his balls became heavier in weight.

“You’re gonna cum already, hum?” Wanderer chuckled in your ear, gently biting its lobe afterwards jokingly.

“Y-Yes! I can feel it coming soon!” Your hand desperately tried to reach his hips, trying to somehow make them go faster.

“Me too, dear… So, make sure to cum it all around me, ok? The same way I’ll be cumming it all around you too.” Wanderer suddenly jumped from his spot and pushed your shoulder until your back was turned to him, thrusting you from behind now while your face drowned in the pillow.

You weakly nodded, your hands gripping on the sheets for dear life as Wanderer’s pace increased erratically. You obviously took the opportunity to increase the volume of your pretty moans.

Seeing your body so arched for him was a view he’d love to watch for hours, especially since it helped his thrusts becoming more precise against your sensitive spots. He spent this whole finale staring at the wet mess you were making of his cock once again, enjoying it as if you were praising him with your voice.

No matter how repetitive they were, once again, your orgasm was breathtaking. Although you enjoyed the idea of being degraded by a man you adore so much, being loved and praised by him felt even better. It explained why it really didn’t take long for you to cum again. Meanwhile you trembled and screamed against the pillow, Wanderer kept thrusting you in that same tortuous pace since he hadn’t reached his own climax yet. At least he deeply enjoyed watching you taking all of him inside even if you were busy being so overwhelmed by your own body wasting all that peaked pleasure. He could now see a few ropes of your cum splashed around his length, truly making your already gummy walls a true mush for him to abuse.

“Good girl… I’m close…” He warned you with a husky groan, and you couldn’t help but try spreading your legs and arching your back even further for him, in arousal of hearing his noises and feeling his cock punching your insides accompanied by wet, splashy noises coming his hips crashing yours.

In a few seconds, Wanderer finally started orgasming too. While squeezing your fluffy buttocks, his tip trembled and ached while pumping his pleasure out of itself. Your body took him all in like it has already been accustomed with it. It didn’t really hurt, and it felt to feel him claiming the deepest parts of your insides all to himself.

Wanderer giggled.

“Did you enjoy this? Taking my semen inside your pretty cunt?” Wanderer leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I… I did.” At this point, you were too cock-drunk to care if anyone would hear your pathetic self-degradation, your stupid screams or if your roommate would arrive home with such a pornographic scene happening.

You were happy that you had so many rounds of sex with your favorite character of your entire life.

“Good! You know your place!” The irony in his tone while his hand roamed around your body made you giggle.

You felt his hands stop at your shoulders, pulling you up from behind. After a few other tricks, he had on his arms, carrying you around princess-style once again.

“Go on. You do it.” He said as he walked close enough to your computer’s screen and sat himself on your chair, still with you on top of his naked lap. “I’m tired. Even if you don’t get a Five Star right now, I have no gas anymore anyway…” He arched his head against your chair’s pillow while waiting for you to finally reach ‘pity’.

Your shaking fingers reached your mouse.

You accidentally shook it away from the button you couldn’t wait to click, making you shake you head and focus, trying to act less lazily, desperately desiring to see what would be the results of all your efforts.

Click.

Your eyes widened.

“Oh-ho?” Wanderer’s attention was brought back to the screen seeing the golden sparkle shining around it.

Your hand froze in place as the first result of your pulls popped with a flash in your screen.

A 3-Star weapon.

You didn’t bother reading its name.

You slowly clicked the screen one-by-one, waiting for every animation of every weapon to load before advancing.

In the final clicks, finally, the big, golden, splash art finally popped.

It was him.

“Congratulations.” Wanderer giggled, tapping and patting the top of your head as if he hadn’t just controlled that.

“You…” You couldn’t even express all that joy you had been stocking for this moment. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” You couldn’t help but hug his neck passionately, which made his a smirk did and become grumpy expression instead.

That was it!

Your objective in the game was finally over!

Wanderer was yours!

“Ok, ok… no need to keep throwing yourself on me!” He rose his hands upwards, trying to avoid touching you while you simply rubbed yourself against him in pure joy of finally achieving your main mission in the game.

“I’m so happy!! Thank you so, so, so, so, so much!” You immediately let him go when he asked for it, and you threw yourself in the table, beginning to print the screen in front of you.

“I would do Weapon Banner round too, but unfortunately…” He paused for a beat. “It’s time to wake up.”

“What?” You expressed your confusion, taking a glance back at him.

“Y/N? Hello?” Those words didn’t match his previous ones, which just made you even more confused. You didn’t recognize that tone on him… but in someone else.

In a blink, all that world disappeared, and your body teleported from Wanderer’s lap to your bed again.

“Oh, God! I thought you were dead!” Your roommate made a ‘phew’ noise when she finally saw your eyes awaken at her perspective.

“W-Wh…” You rose your chest and looked around.

“Weird dream again?” She asked, leaning away from the bed to let you get up.

It was all… a dream..?

“Y-Yeah…” You awkwardly jumped out from your bed, immediately walked to your table, seeing your current main character idling probably for the twentieth time.

The Wish button had a red exclamation mark on it.

The Character button had no exclamation mark on it.

You clicked on it.

Wanderer’s banner was there, and it’s been 2 hours since he arrived in the game according to the timer.

Oh.

It was really all a dream?! All that pleasure and romance was just your brain helping you relieve your sexual needs?! Your romantic fantasies?! Well… you couldn’t deny you were a little thankful for it. The scenario you just lived was something many of his fans would kill for.

Before you could even think about actually pulling for him now, an e-mail notification in the game popped right at center-top of the screen with a little notification sound accompanied, contrasting the screen’s light blue background with its gray tone.

You pressed the ‘Esc’ key in your keyboard twice and quickly reached the e-mail option at the left bottom-corner of the screen. At least you’d get some gems for—

Wait…

What is this e-mail?

It doesn’t have a gem icon, or any item at all. It was just… a message? Coming from… ‘You Know Who’..?

You swallowed saliva while clicking the e-mail.

From: You Know Who

Good luck on the Weapon Banner, and good luck with the new mission too. ;)

(I seriously recommend you have a handkerchief while doing it.)

Taglist: @hitomisuzuya @kindofshyent @shyentsfoundherink @amoyanderes @the-stinky-winky @goofy-ego @bigmantiddys @alatusorrow @luminieee

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