#u are worth love n affection | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

subskz · 1 year ago

Text

…i lost the tag limit war

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

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

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

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

word count : 20k

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

part two

You have always been first in your class.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"I have an idea."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

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

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

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

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

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

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

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

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

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

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

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

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

"And right now, how do you feel?"

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

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

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

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

"I do too."

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

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

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

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

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

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

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

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

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

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

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

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

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

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

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

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

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

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

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

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

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

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

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

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

"What's there to miss?"

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

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

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

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

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

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

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

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

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

"What did you use?" you ask quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll ask her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I only tell my friends."

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

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

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

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

"You'll catch a cold."

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

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

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

"Yn, I don’t-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure."

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Never."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was something friends think about, right?

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

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

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

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

"I’ll still cut it."

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

He didn't cut his hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

2 months later

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

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

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

"What are you doing?"

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

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

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

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

"Nope."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not like that you look scary."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?"

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

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

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

"You didn't," you reply instantly.

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

"I will."

"Okay."

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

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

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

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

That's four seconds more than the first time.

Progress.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She deleted your number.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yn-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

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

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

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

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

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

"Please, let me make it better."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It will take time."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Epilogue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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angelixrr · 9 months ago

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cw for fem!reader, yan!vees, noncon + dubcon, 4some, electrocution, manipulation, slighttt voxval if u squint REALLY hard

vox !

vox was by far the most insecure of the vees, and thus overcompensated for his insecurity by being overly possessive of you

would oftentimes drag you away from the other vees to take with you to meetings to show you off to shareholders, high ranking sinners and demons alike

his insecurities reared their ugly head whenever someone else happened to talk to you. be it friendly conversation or legitimate flirting, vox wouldn't spare either one, either dragging you away or having his security throw out the unlucky sinner

vox quite literally has eyes on you 24/7, has gifted you numerous pieces of voxtech technology, ranging from a phone, to a voxtech watch, and unbeknownst to you, he had you chipped after the two of you had drinks he, n he slipped something into your drink to knock you out for a few hours

vox will give you anything you ask for, to not only showcase his wealth, but social standing and power. he's basically telling you through gifts that "no one else could do this for you, or would do this for you. i went through hell and back to get you this, you owe me"

vox is also the first of the vees to tighten his grip on your leash you're on if he feels as if you're getting too wild, too close to other people. he'll force a shock collar onto you, and then keep you confided either to his penthouse, or the vees's tower in his office

vox can be pacified really easy, acting obedient towards him really feeds his ego, and can make him go easier on you

valentino !

valentino is the least possessive of the vees, which isn't saying much, but he has the most confidence out of all of them so he doesn't worry much about you running away

really, he thinks you're lucky to have the attention of someone as powerful as him, the only time he ever really has an outburst is if you deny him

if you tell him no to accompanying him to a club, starring in a show, or being intimate with him behind closed doors, he will take it out on you, telling you that you should be grateful that he's been this nice, cut you so much slack when he's got all his other bitches on tight leashes. you're special to him, and he treats you so well compared to his other whores, so just shut the fuck up and take him

does tend to spoil you when you've been behaving particularly well, takes you out on the town into all the nightclubs that an ordinary sinner like yourself wouldn't dare go into. takes you to the vip lounge and sits you on his lap to show off to anyone lucky enough to look at his favorite little bitch

absolutely loves to have you as arm candy, if he goes out 9 times out of ten hes begging vox or velvette to let you go with him, and if they tell him no, he gets huffy

loves loves loves to drape his wings over you and hold you close to him

blows smoke in your face. bc he’s mean and he sucks and that’s so hot of him

velvette !

velvette is by far the worst one to land the affections of, for what she lacks in power, she makes up for it in intellect

she’s extremely cunning, and always makes you play directly into her hand, through manipulating you and others around you

will spread rumors between your staff about you selling someone out to an exorcist, or about you getting someone else fired, when really, it was velvette’s fault

will also manipulate your social media, since that is her specialty. she will boost your social standing if you play nice with her and behave, but if she thinks you’re out of line she will spread rumors and leak compromising images of you just to send you running back to her arms

"aww, dollie what's got you in a tizzy? someone uploaded some nasty pictures of you? 'm so sorry darling, why doncha c'mere, i'll make you feel allll better"

dresses you up practically every day, except when she's particularly busy, but even then, the night before she'll lay out clothes for you or organize a whole week’s worth of clothes. however, if she finds out that you didn’t wear anything she picked out for you, she throws a fit, and you’re guaranteed to be manhandled for the next week like her own personal dress up doll, with extra scandalous outfits to boot

if velvette feels like she hasn't gotten enough time with you, she isn't afraid to tussle with vox or val about it because she knows who's really pulling all the strings

loves to have you working for her, because she feels as if you’re the only one who really gets her. oftentimes she’ll have you working as her assistant, and mediating between her and her designers, or fetching her whatever she needs. she’ll also dress you up for the job, so she has some eye candy while she’s busy yelling at her incompetent staff. but, she loves it when you’re incompetent. when you do it, it’s cute.

posts you on her social media 24/7, wants to show you off to her audience. will cover you in black lipstick kiss marks, then take a selfie of the two of you, just to make sure all of hell knows who owns you

will oftentimes blow up on her current models and fire them, just to have you stand in for them, and have you scantily clad in front of her cameras.

nsfw

vox !

cuz vox is insecure af so he overcompensates for it in the bedroom, barely lets you do anything by yourself, wants to control everything

likes to use his hypnosis to make you do things that usually require a bit of persuasion. if you say that you’re scared of being electrocuted during sex, vox will put you under his mind control, and make you all docile so he can put a shock collar on you and fuck you while he electrocutes you. will remove his mind control halfway through fucking you dumb just so you can feel how good he makes you feel

likes to use sex toys on you, because he can override a lot of their factory settings to make the vibrations more powerful (to almost a painful extent)

can tie you up with his own wires, which will tingle n shock you slightly

valentino !

valentino is an exhibitionist through and through, it’s one of the reasons he runs a porn studio. will sometimes either demand you star in a show for him as a favor for all the nice things he does for you, or he will secretly record the two of you without your consent. just wants to show all of hell his favorite fucktoy

loves to degrade you and call you petnames, you’re his little conejita, his puta tonta, his favorite muñeca to use til he turns you into putty in his hands

is one of the more violent ones in the bedroom if you upset him, will choke you out and slam you against the floor if you tell him you’re tired. will fuck you no matter what you tell him

velvette !

velvette dotes on you in the bedroom, loves to have you all fucked out and teary eyed underneath her

her favorite thing is to eat you out until you’re overstimulated and crying, adores making you feel so good it hurts

uses you as stress relief if she’s having a frustrating day, will drag you into a changing room and make you kneel on the floor as her nails dig into your scalp to eat her cunt

whenever you’ve had a night with velvette it’s incredibly obvious, she will rake her sharp nails all over your body, and leave hickeys, bite marks, and lipstick stains all over you. adores marking you up for vox and valentino, just to remind everyone who’s really in charge

loves to use sex toys on you, from a cute pink n purple strap to a vibrator wand, not as mean as vox with them though. just wants to make you feel good til you’re a dumb mess under her

all !

even though the vees are competitive, vying for your attention 24/7, they do come together sometimes to mutually plan how to get you even more wrapped around their fingers

val n vox share you the most, they know what makes one another feel good, they're kind of a dastardly combo together

you'll be taking vox's cock n then val will kneel in front of you expecting you to suck him off, but the moment you have his dick in your mouth, vox is pushing you all the way to val's fluffy groin, making you tear up and gag on his length

velvette n vox are also more likely to share you at once, but they work separately to make you feel good. vox will be fingering you, while velvette licks and sucks at your neck and chest, occasionally leaving harsh bites.

velvette n valentino hardly ever share, but when they do its messy and competitive. they're practically fucking you til you see stars, seeing who can reduce you to tears the fastest and make you squirt the hardest. they're the meanest to you when together, calling you a dumb fucktoy, their useless whore, their favorite cumdump. won't hesitate to yank you away from each other. they just fight over you like two kids fighting over their favorite toy

when they're all together though, you're in for a longgg night. happens occasionally, just bc they're all so busy (andd sometimes they're too jealous to share). but when they're together they love to share you between them all. vox n val will use both your holes at once, while velvette kisses you n pinches your nipples til they turn red. they loveee to indulge themselves in their favorite plaything so they’re prone to overstimulating you. they will still use you even if you pass out, so you’ll be super sore the next day

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel headcanons #the vees x reader #valentino x reader #velvette x reader #vox x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere vees

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arlertwhore · 5 months ago

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help - kate martin

pairing: kate martin x fem! reader synopsis: kate, your girlfriend comes over while your sick and "helps" you feel better ;) warning(s): smut, fingering, spit play, nipple play, nipple sucking, kate is the sweetest and talks you through it. word count: 1.4k author note: never saw the hype about her, saw an edit, and then BAM! i'm hooked now

Kate, your girlfriend, arrives as planned a couple of hours earlier, but now, you don't seem as cheerful and enthusiastic as yo u did over the phone. When she barges into your bedroom, exclaiming, "Daddy's Home!" to see you with your hoodie pulled over your head, surrounded by tissues and your comfort teddy on your bed, she pauses, thinking she's somehow messed up and you're going to break up with her even though she is literally the most perfect girlfriend in the world. Exemplified, she rushes over to your side of the bed and gently places a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N?" she asks hesitantly, "Is- did I-… are you okay?" Of course, Kate's asking how you are first. You smile at her lovingly, that smile you give her everytime you fall in-love just a little harder, and see her relax instantly. "I wish I could kiss you," you murmur weakly.

Kate furrows her naturally arched brows. "Wish?" she asks, a subtle smirk on her slightly parted lips as she leans in, blue eyes soft with intention. You jump up, holding her by her shoulders. "I dunno, something I ate, I think. I feel like crap now. I don't wanna pass it on to you, baby."

Kate's hands come up to her shoulders, interlacing with yours as she holds herself close to you. "I don't care," she whispers lovingly before leaning in and kissing you anyway. "It's worth it," she murmurs softly against your lips, her affection shining through.

When her hand comes to your cheek to draw you closer, she notices your warmth. "You're hot, babe," she remarks with concern. "Maybe it's this hoodie, let me help you."

You raise your arms and Kate takes it off, leaving you in your bra. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? I would've stopped on the way here and picked you up something," she says, a mix of empathy and worry evident in her voice.

"Because I know you," you chuckle weakly, "You're gonna act like I'm dying and fuss over me and shit." "You mean, help?" she retorts playfully, and you roll your eyes. "Fine. Wanna help so bad, Martin?"

Her big hands come to your bare waist, drawing you close. "I do."

The way Kate speaks is so dreamy and enchanting. You can't help but fantasize she had just said that at your guys' wedding.

When you hop out of dreamland, you blink in surprise and realize you're currently straddling her lap as she sits back against the headboard, both hands on your ass, gently massaging it with care as she bores at your tits, still clad in your bra unabashedly. Due to your body temperature, they glisten in a soft sheen of sweat that highlights against your skin mesmerizingly.

And though Kate is staring at your body, touching it, and she looks enamored, when she comes up to meet your face, the look in her eye is glassier than moments ago, like your face is the ultimate gander.

"You're so pretty, gorgeous," she breathes, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly, seemingly traveling to your pussy that flutters excitedly at the compliment, her touch, and her existence.

"Could you help me, Kate? Could you help me take my pants off?" you say in a peckish, sensual tone. "Anything," she whispers as she complies, turning you around on her lap and pulling them down in one desire driven go. You don't have to tell her what you need help with next. She unclasps your bra, leaving you fully naked. "What now?" she murmurs against your ear, her breath fanning it.

You catch her lips in a deep kiss, pulling her hands to your chest and letting her touch you there too. You feel her smile as she squeezes them gently, and with your still hands interlocked, she jiggles your tits in her hands. "Fingers," you moan, "I want your fingers." You plead eagerly.

It sends you into overdrive when Kate's lips come down to your neck, kissing and nibbling gently as her hand travels further south, down to your pussy, her free hand still on your tit as she teases your firm nipple gently. "Kate…" you drawl, "I'm so so wet for you, Kate, I can't wait any longer."

When she rubs your clit gently and rhetorically questions, "Are you? Couldn't tell." it's like your heart stops. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, and you moan loudly, close to her ear, which riles her up. She moves your hand to rest over her other shoulder, allowing her freer access to your nipple.

She starts sucking it as her middle finger slips into you smoothly, pushing into you like a piston and making all your slickness flow from your cunt onto the mattress below.

"Fuck, pretty, look at how messy you're being," Kate murmurs against your chest as she pumps into you, working you open slowly. "You like that? You like makin' a mess on my fingers?"

"Oh, fuck," you gasp as she speeds up. It takes all the power in you to not shut your legs and to answer her at the same time. "I do."

When her pointer finger enters you, the fullness makes your back arch up and off the bed with a heavy mewl. Kate's quick to hold you in place with her free hand pressing hard on your legs, trapping you, and with soft kisses to your jaw. "No, no, no, take it," she urges, "Open your legs again, baby, take it."

You comply, opening your legs again. When your mouth hangs open as you cry out, Kate gives you a small break and a reward for listening. She eases her fingers into your mouth, and you suck them eagerly, savoring your own taste and feeling pleasure build within you unbearably. Her other hand crooks your jaw down to meet hers in a kiss—or so you believe, until Kate isn't really kissing you, but tasting your spit instead, inadvertently your arousal.

After the exchange, she wets her fingers with her saliva and hurriedly places them back into your cunt, thrusting into you vigorously. Her touch is both intense and tender, igniting sensations that leave you whining for more. She drives deeper, then teasingly asks, "More? That good?" as she strokes the soft spot inside of you, causing your toes to curl and your lip to be bitten.

You nod fervently. "So good!" Your body responds eagerly, arching into her touch, craving more of the exquisite sensation she's delivering. The room fills with the sound of your moans, mixing with the rhythmic sounds of her movements.

Her touch is knowing; knowing exactly how to push you closer to the edge, exactly how to help, and exactly what gets you off. Your breath quickens, chest rising and falling rapidly as the arousal builds to its peak. Kate's gaze locks with yours, eyes lidded, mirroring the fire that burns within you.

"You're close?" Kate breathes, her voice throaty and husky.

You can only manage a breathless nod as pleasure consumes every inch of your being and her fingers continue their relentless rhythm, each thrust sending shocks of ecstasy through your body, pushing you closer to the peak of pleasure.

You feel the familiar tightness building in your core, a sign that release is imminent. Kate senses it too, her movements becoming more urgent, more determined. The tension in your muscles coils tighter, anticipation heightening as you teeter on the brink of ecstasy.

With a final deep thrust, Kate pushes you over the edge. Your whole body shudders with the intensity of your climax, pleasure washing over you in relentless phases. You cry out her name, your voice a mix of pleasure and gratitude as she talks you through it.

"Let it out, baby, just like that, yeahh, c'mon.." Collapsed against her, you feel her embrace, her touch soothing as you come down from the high. Your breaths slow, hearts pounding in unison as you savor the intimacy and connection you'd just shared.

"You feel any better, babe? Did that help?" Kate asked, her tone hopeful.

"Yeah, I think I've found the cure for what ails me," you quipped with a mischievous grin. "And what's that?" Kate inquired.

"Orgasms, Kate. Lots of orgasms," you replied playfully. MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: gosh kate kills me.. also, is that titties and beer photo like real? like FR? inbox me! i love reading them STILL.

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seelestars · 1 year ago

Text

LEAVING LIPSTICK MARKS ON HIM ?! (neuvillette, wriothesley, jing yuan)

a/n : if u write for hsr or genshin, or like any of them in general pls hmu,, id love to have some moots on this app

also sorry if wriothesley isn’t that accurate, his personality is hard to figure out for me </3

NEUVILLETTE

you two were having some time to yourselves— time that was very hard to come by considering what a busy man neuvillette was. so, you decided to make the most of it to the best of your ability.

which was, showering neuvillette in affection.

seeing how he didn’t seem to mind, you proceeded to smother his face in chaste kisses. there was a playful smile on your lips as you did so (a smile that neuvillette found himself growing fond of overtime.) a small giggle escaped your lips as you leaned back for a moment to admire your work.

“very affectionate today, are we?” neuvillette hums in contentment, his eyes full of adoration for you. you had to hold back a big grin from his obliviousness to the lipstick marks you left all over his face.

“mhm.. just wanted a way to remind you of how much I love you.” you caress his horns gently, watching as neuvillette closed his eyes with a blissful sigh. one of your hands stroked his horn while the other played with his hair in a comforting manner.

soon, neuvillette’s break was over. you felt reluctant to let him go, and he felt regretful for only being able to spend so much time with you. getting off his lap, you smile despite how you still craved for more of his affection. after watching him leave the office to inquire from a melusine about some information, you let yourself let out the laugh you’ve been holding in since you knew he’d definitely embarrass himself with all those lipstick marks on him.

…and he sure did. that night, neuvillette had returned to your bedroom with a more flushed face than usual for reasons you already knew about. seeing how red he was, you decided not to tease him about it for his sake.

WRIOTHESLEY

it had been a long day managing the fortress of meropide for wriothesley. it felt even longer to him when it came to being separated from you. thoughts of you constantly filled his mind while he reviewed different documents at work.

but it was all worth it to him at the end of the day, where wriothesley could melt into your warm embrace.

“had a long day?” you gaze fondly at him, ruffling his hair playfully as he rested his head on your lap. his eyes were closed as he savored the feeling of being so close to you after a tiring day at the fortress. one of his hands was intertwined with yours, caressing your knuckle with his thumb.

“you know it.” wriothesley opens his eyes to meet your gaze, a small smile forming on his lips. being able to indulge in physical intimacy with you like this was his favorite part of the day. the time of the day that never failed to make him smile.

no further words had to be communicated between the two of you, it was as if you could talk with just the way you looked at each other.

you nod in understanding as he sat up to wrap his arms around you, this time resting his head on your shoulder. suddenly, a mischievous idea popped into your mind. your smile widens a little before you proceeded to give him many quick pecks on his face and neck (in a place where he couldn’t see the marks you left on him without a mirror.)

wriothesley opens an eye to look at you curiously, his cheeks dusted a subtle pink from your display of affection. he has to stop himself from grinning stupidly from being kissed by you. though you two have kissed each other many many times, he just couldn’t seem to get used to the feeling of your lips on his skin or his own lips. but it was addictive. he wanted more.

wriothesley felt like a highschooler experiencing love for the first time again from how shy he felt about asking you for more kisses once you had stopped. he was glad you ended up understanding what he wanted without saying it, planting more kisses on him.

the next day when he was in the fortress of meropide as usual, wriothesley found himself receiving weird glances from others. only sigewinne was brave enough to point out the lipstick marks that adorned his face and neck, causing him to instantly fold in embarrassment.

JING YUAN

you were visiting him as he was working, watching him read through different files. “you should take a break, you know?” you nudged him lightly, holding a box of dessert you intended to share with him.

“later.” jing yuan waves you off with a hum, his eyes focused on the scrolls instead of you. you knew it was childish, but you felt jealous of how the scrolls were receiving more attention than you.

setting the dessert to the side, you pouted knewing words weren’t working on him. so instead, you decided to think of a different way to make him focus on you. …this may not have been the smartest idea you’ve came up with, but you chose to give it a try anyway.

you turn his head towards you, a jealous look in your eyes. jing yuan only had a second to react before you attacked him with kisses all over. despite how it was supposed to be an attack in a way, it felt pleasant to him. he found himself smirking at how possessive and jealous you were being out of nowhere.

“you know im all yours, right?” jing yuan laughs once you finally pulled away, your mood having calmed down a little. your cheeks flush a little at his words, not wanting him to tease you further so you just ignored his comment.

“next time I better be your priority instead of whatever these.. scrolls are.” you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his hair lovingly. you hope your plan had worked to distract him from his work, to only focus on you for now.

and it worked. jing yuan let out a fake disappointed sigh, opening his arms for you to properly embrace. “don’t worry, you will.” he smiles once you hugged him tightly, afraid to let him go as if he’d try to escape once you let go. he pats you on the head, feeding you the dessert you had bought for the two of you.

he knew of the lipstick marks you had left on him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. instead, he wore them around proudly, leaving many jaws open in shock at his boldness.

#✷ . nova’s brainrot !#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader

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tiajk · 1 year ago

Text

Being their sibling headcannons (Monster trio)

Characters included; Luffy, Zoro, & Sanji

Warnings; sibling love, fluff gn! reader

A/n; My sister just left to go back to college miss her already

masterlist

MONKEY D. LUFFY

Sibling realtionship; Twins

— He honestly needs a sibling to be there for him he has the crew yes but you being there is just different like his missing piece (not romantic)

— He will steal your food but if you try to steal his he’ll throw a big fit talking about how you have so much food already

— Garp was sick of both of you growing up you both relented going into the marines so he couldn’t stand it

— He gives his hat to you all the time you guys sorta share it but he has it most of the time

— The crew get tired of both of you sometimes sanji has to feed two overly eating people and he never catches a break

— he would protect you without a doubt

— you guys 100% have the same brain cell you hold it most of the time luffy rents it sometimes

— your his favorite out of all you guys siblings and ace and sabo know that

— he tries to steal your food and it turns into a whole rumble for some meat (nothing less of luffy)

— when he has nightmares he will go to ur room and ask you to hold him because he just wants his twin to be by him

— he doesn’t say i love you ask much as you think but he does say it in his sleep sometimes when you guys are around each other

— doesn’t care if you flirt with guys or girls or any person but will be mad if they take you away from him when he wants to spend sibling time together

Ronoroa Zoro

Sibling dynamic; Big sibling little brother

— You would have to watch him all the time growing up because he would always go picking fight nd shit

— he doesn’t want to admit it but he wants you to tell him how proud you are of him and his strength

— def the little brother to hate when you give him affection but he loves it but will never admit it out loud

— doesn’t care what your doing but when it’s nap time he will leave his swords with you and get mad but get mad when he’s sleeping and you take the swords and put them to the side

— he doesn’t say i love you only says it when your seriously about to die (don’t tease him abt it he was actually worried)

— if you wear something that’s too revealing in his eyes he will 100% go “i’m telling mom that your wearing that” (bro what mom robin?) (it is robin)

— he’s always asking you for money like it’s worst that nami

— he’ll point his finger in your face and be like “i’m not touching you your face it touching me”

— doesn’t like when ur dating someone he’ll stalk you for sure if ur dating sanji he gets pissy but as long as your happy he’s happy

— he’ll protect you in battle if you need it and other way around but makes fun of you if you need his help in a unserious fight ofc

— do not show this man your outfits if you want his opinion he will just be like it looks the same

— he forces you to workout with him whether you want to or not

(he’s so fine me and u could eat him)

Vinsmoke Sanji

relationship dynamic: big brother little sibling

(i know his backstory but i haven’t got that far so we’re js gonna act like it’s you two for rn)

— when you guys were on the rock with zeff he gave you majority of the food

— makes you his personal taste tester for anything gives you stuff before the ladies

— he doesn’t like when people try to date you because he just wants you to be treated right if you date zoro he’ll be mad but he knows zoro will do anything to protect you

— he likes when you guys cook together it’s a personal connection for both of you

— type of brother to say he’s gonna kill a bug but makes you kill it

— he gives you his money but the second you mention it he won’t give you anymore (he does)

— he loves hugging you that’s all he does he just wants you to know how much he loves you

— says i love you almost everyday he wants to make sure you know your self worth

— if y’all got them same curly brows and you wear urs with pride your gonna make him do the same

— zeff makes sanji promises he’ll take care of you

— try’s to stop smoking for you but always go back to his ways you make jokes all the time about it

— if you wanna sneak out he’ll cover you but then make you do something in return for it

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gavisimmaculaterizz · 6 months ago

Note

hii can you write something about hector and reader being in a situation ship and having some problems because she is very insecure that he doesn’t want anything serious with her but he actually wants yo ask her out?

Please and thank u, love ur writing btw 💝

— be mine // héctor fort.

summary: after meeting at a cafe and becoming an inseparable duo with benefits, can hector finally call you ‘mine’?

warnings: mentions of insecurities (change of 3rd person to 1st person)

masterlist

In the heart of barcelona, where every street corner held a story and every alley whispered secrets, two souls found themselves entangled in a mysterious dance of emotions. y/n and hector, they were. their story was not a tale of love at first sight, nor a whirlwind romance. now, their story was a story of serendipity, of chance encounters and stolen glances that slowly kindled a flame neither dared to acknowledge at all.

their story began in a quaint café tucked away from the noisy streets of barcelona. y/n sat by the window, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup as she immersed herself in her college work. hector, a frequent visitor to the café, spotted her the moment he walked in. he was captivated by the sparkle in her eyes that seemed to intensify with every move she made..

since that initial encounter, days turned into weeks, and their sightings at the café have become more frequent. they’d exchange polite nods and fleeting smiles, yet too shy to initiate a conversation. though one day, hector broke the silence and started a conversation. since that day, both of them became an inseparable duo. when they both began knowing each other more though, there was an undeniable connection between them both. a silent understanding that grew stronger with each passing moment.

you both started spending more time together outside the café, visiting places from the public expanse of the beach to the private confines of his apartment. then, one day, he made a significant gesture by taking you to an important football match of his, despite never revealing that he was a professional athlete. trying to maintain a low-key demeanor to avoid intimidating you in the public eye..

you both began to enjoy each other's company, spending increasingly more time together. as you learned more about one another, the spark between you both became increasingly evident.

one might say that this marks the beginning of their benefits..

immersed in the depth of your friendship or situation with hector, you couldn't ignore the burgeoning feelings for him. you cherished him deeply, yet you felt insignificant and inadequate in his presence.

he was a handsome and athletic man, drawing the attention of many women, leaving you feeling inconsequential. you were just a regular college girl, constantly stressed and unnoticed by those who crossed your path. because of his status, rumors of him with stunning Instagram models circulated, causing you to doubt your worth.

you weren't in a relationship with him, so why did these feelings arise?

the sight of him receiving so much attention was indescribable. initially, it seemed like envy—envy that others feel the same affection for him. but this envy soon morphed into insecurity as you witnessed more beautiful women appearing in photos with him, causing your heart to throb with sorrow.

you spent countless days and nights scrutinizing your appearance and every aspect of yourself. you despised your looks, your speech, and even your reactions. you belittled yourself, constantly comparing yourself to those who seemed perfect.

these thoughts overwhelmed you, as you anticipated.

the more time you spent with hector, the more he noticed the shift in yourself. you used to be shy yet self-assured, indifferent to others' opinions. you dressed boldly, unconcerned with showing your body.

that was what he loved about you..

but then, he started to notice subtle changes in you. you claimed to dress more comfortably, which he saw through as a lie, knowing the person you truly were. he consistently raised his concerns, always inquiring about your well-being, yet you consistently brushed them aside.

he sensed something was amiss, which is why he invited you over for a date in the comfort and safety of his apartment.

--------------------------------------------------------

upon receiving his message to come over, you drove to his apartment. without a doubt though, you were dressed once again in baggy sweats and a sweatshirt.

which is what always made him worry about your well being.

you arrived at his place and adjusted your appearance before approaching his doorstep.

after ringing the doorbell, which echoed loudly, he quickly opened the door.

he went to you, embracing you tightly, and asked,

"how are you, y/n?" his gaze lingered on your face, taking in every detail of you. you appeared sadder to him, almost as though you were unwell.

"i'm great, hector!" you declared, your words hiding the truth. he gazed at you with a smile and planted a gentle kiss.

"come on in," he said, leading you into his home and promptly offering you a seat.

once you took your seat, he began to talk, cautiously.

"the reason why i asked you to come over is because i need to talk to you." he said quietly.

you sensed something was up with him, making you extremely nervous to what he'll say.

"what is it? don't scare me, hector," you said nervously.

he grappled with his words.

"recently, i've noticed a change in your behavior around me. you've become very quiet, and it's apparent that something is troubling you," he said, taking a moment to pause.

"please tell me what's going on with you, y/n," he said, taking your hand.

upon hearing his words, you could no longer hold back what you had been concealing from him. you burst into uncontrollable tears, prompting hector to immediately come over and embrace you.

he had finally noticed...

you attempted to compose yourself, yet it seemed futile as your mind was besieged by flashbacks.

==================================

"am I even pretty?" you asked yourself, sobbing. you had spent countless hours looking at gorgeous girls with stunning bodies on social media.

"y/n, look at yourself. you're nothing compared to those girls. you're just a girl who's nowhere near close to being like them, so stop trying to look good for him," you said to yourself between sobs.

you've began to feel ugly and worthless, without a doubt.

“your ‘friend’ from the cafe, has countless of girls on his knees, why is he hanging out with me?” you constantly said yourself.

==================================

your heart felt as if it had shattered, as though something heavy had been dropped upon it. you couldn't believe hector had finally taken notice.

you continued to cry, releasing everything you had concealed from him.

after awhile of crying, you began to compose yourself.

"i just feel like you don't take anything seriously with me, hector. remember all those times we cuddled and kissed as if we were a couple? i'm sure you've noticed a shift in my behavior; i've been feeling quite insecure about myself, especially when I see those stunning models who seem to always be flirting with you." you said finally breaking silence.

hector allowed you to speak further.

"please, hector, stop this suffering if we are not serious about each other. i've changed for you, and it's likely harming us both," you said softly.

hector was taken aback. he was at a loss for words, seemingly unable to even breathe.

from an initial encounter at a cafe to now questioning where they both stood in life, hector began to tear up.

little did you know though, hector loved you ever since he met you at that cafe. he was taken aback by your initial words, though; he never imagined you would change negatively for him, just to end up feeling insecure.

"im sorry y/n." he spoke.

"i've loved you since the moment i met you at that cafe. when i saw your focused face, I was captivated by your beautiful eyes," he said.

"i regret not expressing my feelings, i regret making you feel insecure about who you are," he said, tears welling up in his eyes.

you looked into his eyes, wordlessly. sadness mingled with the overwhelming love you felt for hector.

"please," hector implored.

"may I be your boyfriend? i'm serious about us, and i want to make you mine, to show everyone that you're the most beautiful girl in the world," he said, gently caressing your face.

you smiled at him, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach upon hearing his question.

"yes, hector, i'd love to be your girlfriend," you said smiling at him.

he smiled, gazing into your eyes with affection.

"i'm sorry for what i did, mi amor," he said, while drawing closer to you.

"just shut up and kiss me, hector," you said with a laugh, dismissing his apology.

from what began as a encounter at a cafe, the two pair of souls finally found their destiny. their destiny to be together ..

a/n: tysm anon for the sweet comment 🥹! ive been debating to post this or not bc i think its not my best lol, i dont like the first part at ALL. ive been lately busy with school bc its ending in a few weeks and ive got tests to do��. hopefully i can do another one next week about fermin🤗!!

#hector fort x you #hector fort fluff #hector fort #hector fort x reader #spanish nt #fc barcelona #football #fanfic #football player #football player x reader #soccer #la liga

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thewrstinme · 1 month ago

Text

“Immortalised in stone.”

word count: 5668

summary: what’s intended to be a cosy night in, cuddling up with noah, watching movies and drinking your favourite tea, turns into copious amounts of praise and worship - where you’re not allowed to do anything except feel and understand the immense adoration this man has for you.

tags: oral (female receiving), tooth rotting fluff, noah worships you n your body, religious/greek god references ig, fingering, pure love n adoration, noah is the sweetest bf ever confirmed, sweet words & lots of praise 18+ mdni

notes: not proofread, first real fluffy kinda smut i’ve written so constructive criticism is super appreciated! thanks for the support on the last two fics, love u all <3

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a soft golden light through the windows of their cosy living room. You’re curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, your long hair spilling across your shoulder as you absentmindedly scroll through your phone. Noah is in the kitchen, humming quietly to himself as he prepares both of your favourite tea, the familiar clink of mugs and the soft hiss of the kettle filling the air.

You glance up from your phone just as Noah walks over, holding two steaming cups. He hands one to you, and you smile, setting your phone aside.

"Thanks, love," you murmur, your eyes warm as they meet his brown ones.

Noah sits down beside you, his arm naturally draping over your shoulders, pulling you close. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the sound of his heartbeat soothing in a way you could never get tired of.

"Long day?" he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah," you sigh, but it wasn’t the kind of exhaustion that weighed on you. Being with Noah, like this, always made you feel lighter. "But this… this makes it all better."

He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Glad to help."

You shift slightly, wrapping your arms around his waist and sinking further into his embrace. It wasn’t grand gestures or elaborate plans that made their time together special. It was moments like this—quiet, simple, and full of warmth—that made you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

In the soft light of the sunset, Noah's fingers trace idly along your arm, his touch leaving a trail of warmth on your skin. You close your eyes, savouring the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are today?" he asks, his voice low and soft, a murmur against your hair.

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Maybe once or twice," you tease.

Noah chuckled, his chest reverberating with the sound. "It’s worth mentioning again, then."

There was a comfortable silence for a few moments. Noah's fingers continued their lazy path up and down your arm, each touch a subtle declaration of love. He knew you better than anyone else, and somehow, the way he touched you always seemed to say more than words ever could.

You open your eyes and look up, meeting Noah's gaze. There was a softness there, a tenderness that was reserved just for you. "You’re not so bad yourself, you know," you murmur, your lips curling into a playful smile.

A low, amused chuckle vibrates through him. "Oh, stop it, you’ll make me blush," he replies, feigning modesty.

His eyes never leave yours, a mixture of warmth, affection, and the hint of a spark of desire. He shifts, his arm tightening around you, pulling you closer. Noah leans in, and his lips brush against your temple, peppering a trail of light kisses from there to your cheek, each one a promise of his devotion.

The atmosphere in the room changed, becoming charged with an undercurrent of yearning. The quiet had turned intimate, the air between them thick with the unspoken. You feel your heart rate quicken as his fingers continued to draw lazy, soothing circles on your skin.

"I’ve missed you," Noah whispers, his words barely more than a breath. His lips ghost along the sensitive skin just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"We’ve been together all day," you point out, unable to keep the laughter out of your voice. The effect he had on you was immediate - your mind and body both respond to his touch in a way that was almost Pavlovian.

18+ under the cut, MDNI!

Noah murmurs something vaguely apologetic, his lips finding that sensitive spot on your neck, the one that always made you dizzy. His hand moves from your arm, slipping under the loose fabric of your shirt to find the skin of your waist.

"I know, I know," he murmurs against your skin, his fingers tracing patterns on your waist. "But I can't seem to get enough of you. Is that a crime?”

There was a hint of a smirk in his voice as he pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes roaming over your face, memorising every feature. He takes you in like he was seeing you for the first time, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter. His fingers continued their gentle exploration, moving up, tracing the curve of your breast through the thin material of your shirt.

"You’re insatiable," you laugh, your voice hitching slightly in response to his touch. You shift against him, trying to regain some control over your own body.

You can see the desire smouldering in his eyes, a look you were intimately familiar with. It was a look that spoke of unbridled passion and a need that was almost primal. Yet, despite the heat that was building between them, his touch was still tender, still reverent. The dichotomy of his actions made your head spin.

"Can you blame me?" he asks, his voice low and gruff. His hand continues its journey up your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Noah pushes the fabric up slowly, baring more of your flesh to his touch.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his eyes roving over your exposed body unabashedly. His hand splayed across your stomach, his touch both possessive and reverent. "Like you’ve been made just for me."

Your breathing quickens under his touch, your body responding to his words and caresses in a way you couldn’t control. The way he looked at you, like you were the most beautiful, most precious thing in the world, still made your heart skip a beat, even after all these years.

You reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head closer. You can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, sending a jolt of desire straight to your core.

"Maybe I was," you whisper, your voice hoarse with need.

The words hung in the air for a moment, the intensity of their meaning sinking in. Noah looks at you, his gaze darkened with a mixture of awe and want. Then he smirks, his expression playful.

"You’re probably right," he concedes. He pulls you closer, his hand still under your shirt, fingertips dancing along your spine. "You’ve always been my perfect fit, haven’t you?"

He leans in, his lips trailing down the column of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there before moving to your jawline, then your chin. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tilting back instinctively to give him better access.

His hand continues to explore, leaving a trail of heat in its wake until it reached the underside of your breast. He pauses, his thumb tracing the edge of your bra, the touch delicate but deliberate.

Each caress, each kiss, each gentle touch sent a shiver down your spine, making you arch into him. You wanted him closer, you needed him closer. His touch was both a comfort and a delicious torment, igniting a fire within you that only he could quench.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers tightening in his hair, your body pressing against his. Your hips move slightly, instinctively seeking friction, the thin fabric of your shirt doing little to conceal the growing heat between them.

Noah's arm encircles your waist, lifting you effortlessly from the couch. Without breaking stride, he carries you towards the bedroom, his steps determined, yet surprisingly smooth.

You cling to him, a soft laugh escaping your lips as he navigates the short distance with relative ease. Once you both enter your shared room, the door closing behind you both with a soft click, he sets you gently down on the edge of the bed.

He stands before you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking you in with an almost possessive gaze. Then he kneels before you, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your shirt higher, and higher, revealing more skin.

His touch was still gentle, though there’s an underlying hunger beneath it. The room was silent except for the sounds of their breaths mingling, growing more ragged with each passing moment.

Noah leans forward, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along the inner part of your thigh.

He stops just short of where you wanted him most, his hot breath against your skin making you shiver. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "I could spend the rest of my life just looking at you."

His hands continue their exploration, slipping under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns over your stomach, your hips, and up to the valley between your breasts. It was an almost reverent touch, like he was worshipping at the altar of your body.

He moves closer, his mouth finding the sensitive hollow of your throat, his tongue tracing a path up to your ear. His teeth graze your earlobe, his breath warm on your skin. He then whispers your name, your name sounding both like a prayer and a plea on his lips.

His fingers, still under your shirt, move again, finding the clasp of your bra. With a click, the garment comes undone, the fabric loosening around your chest. Noah pulls away slightly, his eyes darkened with want as they meet yours.

"Lift your arms for me, love," he says, his voice taking on a tone of command that sends a spike of heat straight to your core.

You obey, your arms lifting slowly until he could pull the fabric of your shirt over your head, discarding it alongside your bra somewhere behind him. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his gaze roaming over your exposed skin, his chest heaving with each breath.

"You're so perfect," he murmurs, his voice strained with the effort it took to keep himself in check. His hands move, cupping your face, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones.

Noah leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It was a kiss of worship, a declaration of his love. His tongue seeks out yours, dancing and exploring in a way that was both familiar and new.

His hands leave your face, roaming down to your hips, then your thighs, his touch both gentle and possessive at the same time. He wanted you, here and now, but he also wants to make this moment last, to savour every second, every touch.

He breaks the kiss, his lips moving down, trailing to your jawline, then your neck, planting a series of soft kisses along your skin. His fingers continue their journey, finding the waistband of your pants, his touch light as he traces the line of them, before slowly, slowly, inching them downward.

He takes his time, the way he always does. It's not about haste or urgency, but rather about the journey. He wants to know every inch of you, to touch and taste every part of you.

His mouth finds your collarbone, his teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh there. His hands continue their work, slowly guiding your pants over your hips, down your legs, and past your ankles until they're removed entirely.

He looks at you, his eyes full of desire and something else, something deeper. You see the years of love and passion, the understanding of each other that comes from many years spent together.

Noah's eyes never leave yours as he kneels before you once again. His hands trail up your thighs, his touch reverent and tender. He looks at your body the way an artist might look at a work of art, appreciating every line, every curve, every inch of skin.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "So perfect."

His fingertips trace the outline of your hip bone, his touch both delicate and firm as he commits every contour to memory.

He continues his exploration, his hands moving higher, caressing the curve of your waist, the soft skin of your stomach, the softness of your breasts. Everywhere he touches, he worships, his eyes never wavering from your face.

"Everything about you is just... perfect," he says again. "Perfect for me."

His lips follow his hands, planting kisses along your stomach, your ribs, your chest. Everywhere he goes, he leaves a trail of fire in its wake, his need for you growing with each touch, each kiss.

Noah's lips trace a path up your stomach, his breath hot against your skin. He stops just below your ribcage, his eyes drinking you in, his expression a mixture of awe and desire.

"You know in Greek mythology, they'd write stories about people who were so beautiful, they were said to be sculpted by the gods themselves," he whispers, his voice low, his hand tracing a pattern on your hip.

"I would've thought they were talking about you."

His eyes rove over your form, taking in every inch of you. The way the light casts shadows across your body, highlighting every curve, every contour, it reminds him of the sculptures he saw in museums in his youth.

"You're like a Greek goddess," he whispers, his voice thick with reverence. "Aphrodite come to life, carved from ivory and gold."

His hand traces the line of your hip, his fingers trailing down to your thigh.

"You could have your pick of any god, any mortal man, yet you choose to be mine," he murmurs, his voice soft, his gaze fixed on yours.

His hand, still on your thigh, gives a gentle squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh just slightly. He loves these times, when he gets to see you like this, when he gets to worship you the way he'd always wanted to but was afraid to ask for.

"You're an angel, sent from the heavens just for me," he whispers, his lips hovering just over yours.

"You're like the embodiment of everything perfect, everything beautiful," he continues, his words a soft murmur against your skin. His hand continues its journey, trailing up your inner thigh, the touch both reverent and possessive.

"I can't believe you're mine. I don't think I'll ever get over how lucky I am."

His heart slams against his ribs, his breath catching, his throat tightening with emotion. It's always like this with you, he thinks. Every time, like the first time.

"Shh," he shushes you as you go to speak, his finger against your lips. "I know what you’re going to say, my beautiful girl."

His lips find your stomach again, his hands roaming, caressing every inch of your skin. He is gentle, so gentle, his fingers tracing patterns only he can understand.

"Right now, I just want to worship you. Just let me."

He knows every curve, every freckle, every mark. He knows your body as well as he knows his own, and yet every time, it feels new, different, like he's discovering something wonderful for the first time.

His body moves over yours, covering you with his weight in a way that both feels protective and dominating. His hands are everywhere at once, his lips trailing a path down your neck, over your collarbone, down your sternum, like he's mapping out a familiar but no less sacred territory.

"I love you," he whispers against your skin, his voice low, his breath hot. "I love every inch of you, every inch is perfect. Mine."

Noah looks at you with an almost reverent expression, his eyes tracing every feature of your face, like he's seeing you for the first time. He knows every inch of your body, every freckle, every curve, yet every time he sees you like this, naked and open, he's struck anew.

"You're a goddess," he whispers, his voice thick with adoration. "And I'm just a mortal, worshipping at the altar of your perfection."

You try to interrupt, to thank him, or to tell him how you too feel, but he silences you with a gentle finger against your lips. His expression is serious, his eyes meeting yours with a fierce intensity.

"No," he says firmly. "Tonight, you don't have to worry about anything. Just let me make you feel good, love. Just let me do this."

Reluctantly, you nod, your body relaxing against the bed sheets, the trust in your eyes palpable. You trust him, completely and utterly.

He smiles at this, a small, almost satisfied smirk, his hands returning to your body, caressing and worshipping you, every touch a silent promise of pleasure to come.

His lips find your skin again, his kisses slow, deliberate, his tongue tracing a path over your body. Every touch is soft, almost reverent, his hands and lips moving in unison, as if they had been designed to explore only you.

"Just lay back," he murmurs against your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. "Just let me take care of you tonight."

His hands move down, caressing your thighs, his fingertips tracing feather-light patterns on your skin. His mouth follows, his tongue darting out to taste the salty sweetness of your skin. Everywhere he goes, he leaves a trail of fire, his passion for you burning hot and intense, with a reverence that borders on religious.

"You're the only worship I need," he whispers against your hip, his lips trailing slowly towards the most intimate part of you. "The only shrine I'll visit, the only prayer I'll ever say."

He looks up then, his eyes locking with yours, as if seeking permission. He wants to taste you, to make you feel more than you ever have before, wants to show adoration in the only way he knows how.

You nod, a silent permission given, and he smiles, his eyes never leaving yours as he moves lower, his hands gripping your thighs, gently moving them apart.

"All the artists in the world," he mutters, his voice thick with desire, "and they never managed to carve something as perfect as you."

Your breath catches in your throat at the look in his eyes. He smiles, a slow, satisfied smile, his hands tightening their hold on you ever so slightly.

"You should have been immortalised in stone," he murmurs, his lips trailing over your stomach. "A masterpiece that generations will look upon and strive to reproduce, but fail every time."

"I'd have built a temple in your honour," he whispers, his lips just above your hip. "I'd have worshipped you every day, every night. Made you a queen."

His hands trail up your legs, the caress of his fingertips leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh, his touch both soothing and arousing. He’s almost there, the moment he’s wanted since he first saw you today.

"I would've painted you in every colour," he murmurs, his breath hot on your skin. "Written sonnets to your beauty, crafted ballads that would echo through the ages. I would've-"

He's interrupted by his own desire, his words turning to guttural moans as he finally, finally tastes you, his mouth finding the most intimate part of you.

Your back arches involuntarily at the feeling of his tongue against your clit, a soft gasp escaping your lips. He grins against your skin, his eyes glancing up to meet yours.

"You're the only prayer I'd ever pray to, love," he murmurs, his words almost a prayer in and of themselves. "The only deity I'd ever kneel for."

He continues to pay proper homage, his tongue moving against you, his fingers caressing your thighs, holding you in place as he devotes himself wholly to pleasing you. He's not thinking about anything else but you, making your pleasure his only priority, his only desire.

"You're more than a goddess," he mumbles, his voice thick with want. "You're a religion, and I'm your most devout follower," he whispers, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Willing to spend an eternity on my knees, if it means I get to worship you like this."

You desperately whine his name, your back arching under his touch, your body responding to every caress, every movement of his tongue. He smiles, the sound of his name from your lips like music to his ears, his eyes drinking in every little reaction he can pull from you.

He's intoxicated, drunk on the taste of you, the feeling of you under his hands, his mouth, everything about you. He's in a state of bliss, and he knows he could stay like this for hours if you'd let him.

He moves against you, his tongue tracing patterns, his lips never leaving your skin. He can't get enough, he'll never get enough. He wants to worship every inch of you, pay homage to your beauty, your strength, your heart. You're everything to him, and he wants to show you that, to show you how deeply he adores you.

"I'd sell my soul to have you like this," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "I'd do anything for this."

His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place, as he continues to worship you with his tongue. You can feel his devotion in every movement, in every moan that escapes his lips, in the way his body seems to fit perfectly against yours.

He's completely lost in you, drowning in the sensations he's creating, the feeling of you under him, the sound of your sighs and moans echoing in his ears. He wants to stay like this forever, to spend an eternity making you feel like this, like you're the only thing that matters.

He moves his mouth against you, his tongue tracing stripes up and down your sensitive flesh, his fingers moving in unison to gently pump in and out of you, adding to the sensations you're feeling. His touch is both soothing and intense, sending shivers up your spine, making you gasp and moan.

He loves this, the way you respond to him, the way you sound, the way you taste. It's all addictive, and he's helpless to resist the pull he feels.

His touch is everywhere, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, his devotion evident in every move he makes. He knows your body, knows everything that makes you react, and he exploits every weakness, every pleasure point, to bring you to the peak of ecstasy.

He's lost in the moment, lost in you, his eyes glued to your face, watching every expression, every gasp, every arch of your back. He doesn't want to miss a single thing, wants to memorise every minute detail of this moment.

“You’re perfect," he mutters against your skin, like a prayer, a benediction. "Perfect, perfect, perfect,” he hums each word in between a gentle peck that lands on the centre of your clit, making you squirm and grip his hair a little tighter.

He knows he's babbling, that his words may not make sense, but he can't help it. You do this to him, make him lose control, make him forget anything beyond you and him and this moment.

He’s not thinking about anything but you, about your pleasure, about making you feel even a fraction of the adoration he feels for you. It’s all that matters, everything else is just background noise to him. He feels the way your body starts to react, the way your breathing quickens, the little whimpers that escape your lips. He grins against your skin, a feeling of satisfaction and pride washing over him. He's doing this to you, bringing you to this blissful state, and it's making him feel alive.

You whine his name, the sound a plea, a desperate yearning. You beg him to continue, not wanting this feeling to end, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

"Please," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets, your body arching under his touch. "Please, Noah, I need you, don't stop, please."

His eyes lock with yours, a smirk on his lips, his ego inflated by your words. Knowing that you're begging for him, begging for release, it's a feeling like no other. He could stay like this forever, bringing you to the edge and back again, over and over, just to hear you say his name, to watch your body react to his touch.

"Anything for you, love," he murmurs against your skin, his voice low, "anything."

He doubles down, his mouth and fingers working in tandem, his movements becoming more insistent, more intense. His fingers are relentless, two of them sliding in and out of you with a gentle yet powerful pace, and his mouth and tongue work effortlessly to stimulate your clit. He's determined to bring you over the edge, to give you the release you’re begging for. He can feel himself getting carried away, lost in the moment, in his devotion to you.

"You taste like sin," he mutters against your skin, his breaths ragged, his heart racing. "Like every bad habit I've ever had. I'm addicted, love, obsessed.”

His words are rough, his voice low and raw, the sound of your gasps and whimpers only driving him further, his need growing with every second that passes.

He continues to babble, his words a mixture of blasphemies and prayers, his mind fuzzy with pleasure.

"You're a sin," he groans, "a temptation I couldn't resist. But you're also an angel, a masterpiece, a deity incarnate, you’re everything I'm not but everything I need.”

He moves against you, his pace relentless, his breath warm on your skin. "You're perfect, love, and I'm addicted to you."

"I'd burn the world down for you," he whispers, his words a fervent confession, a promise he'd die to keep. "I'd sacrifice everything, just to make you feel like this, to hear you say my name, feel you under my hands."

He's in a trance, drunk on his own desire, on the feel of you, the taste of you, the sound of you. It's all consuming, a whirlwind that he can't escape, wouldn't want to even if he could.

You arch your back, feeling like you're about to lose your mind, your body writhing under his touch, your gasps and moans filling the room. You're a trembling, pleading mess, completely at the mercy of his hands, his mouth, his words that send shivers down your spine.

"Please, Noah, please," you gasp, your voice cracking, "I need you, I need you so bad it hurts."

"I know, love," he murmurs against your clit, his voice ragged, his body thrumming with the desire to satisfy your need, to give you everything you're begging for. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you."

His hands hold you in place, his mouth and fingers never leaving you, his pace relentless, his goal singular. He wants to make you come undone, to see you fall apart because of him, because of the pleasure he's bringing you.

He's lost in the moment, completely surrendered to the need to make you feel good, to give you the pleasure you're craving, to show you how much he worships you. It's like nothing else matters, everything and everyone fading into the background, until there's nothing but the two of you in this moment.

Your body arches and trembles, your eyes squeezing shut as the waves of pleasure overtake you. You gasp, his name a plea on your lips, the sound loud and desperate. You're completely undone, quivering and gasping, your body responding to the pleasure he's given you.

"Noah," you gasp, as if saying his name is the only thing that’ll ground you from the waves of pleasure you’re experiencing.

"That's it, angel," he whispers against your skin, his eyes locked on your face as you reach climax. "Let go for me, gimme that pretty sound."

He's watching you, his gaze intense, drinking in every reaction, every gasp, every twitch of your body as you ride out the pleasure he's given you. It's a moment of pure intimacy, a sight that only he gets to see, and he's worshipping it like it's the first time he’s ever tasted you.

He slowly slows down, his movements gentle now, his mouth peppering your clit with soft kisses, his hands caressing you gently, like you're fragile and easily broken. He's in awe, his eyes soft and dazed, humbled by the effect he's had on you, by the sounds you made because he wanted it, *needed* it.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his lips ghosting over your skin, tracing a path from your jawline down to your collarbone. "More than I deserve."

He's reverent, almost reverential, as if he's witnessing a miracle, a moment too perfect to be real.

He continues to whisper praise against your skin, his words a constant litany of adoration and worship.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice soft and reverential. "A goddess incarnate, a deity walking among mortals."

His hands move over your body, tracing every contour, every curve, as if he's trying to commit your body to memory.

He gently pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, his eyes still filled with awe and adoration.

"You were perfect," he whispers, his lips moving over your skin, trailing a path from your temple down to your chest. "So beautiful, so good, so perfect for me. I'm so proud of you, love."

His hands caress every inch of you while his mouth showers you with praise and worship, his touch tender and loving, his words filled with affection and appreciation.

He takes his time, mapping your body with his hands and lips, his touches gentle, his words reassuring. He wants you to feel safe, valued, treasured. He wants you to know that you're everything to him, that he worships you, adores you, lives for you.

You snuggle your naked body against his still fully clothed one, feeling the cool fabric against your sensitive skin. You nestle into the crook of his arm, your head resting on his chest, sighing contentedly as you feel his heartbeat beneath your ear.

Your hands draw idle patterns on his chest, tracing the muscles that lie beneath the fabric, your movements comfortable, familiar. You feel safe, cocooned in his embrace, your body heavy and satisfied. You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes soft and languid.

"I love you," you murmur, your voice slightly hoarse from the sounds you just made, your words a soft admission, a declaration of your feelings.

"I love you more," he replies, his arm around you tightening subtly, pulling you closer, as if he can't bear even an inch of space between you. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment, inhaling the scent of your hair.

He continues to hold you, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your shoulder, his heartbeat a steady rhythm under your ear. He knows you're tired, physically and emotionally spent, and he's happy to just hold you, to feel you against him, the warmth and weight of you a comfort he's glad to have.

Noah gently guides you onto the bed, a soft and content smile on his face, before disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a warm, damp towel in his hand, the action practiced and familiar.

"You were perfect, love," he murmurs as he begins to wipe down your body, his movements gentle but efficient. His lips follow the path of the towel, planting soft kisses on your skin, reverential and appreciative.

"So good for me, so beautiful," he continues, his voice a low, soothing murmur, his praise constant and sincere. "I couldn't ask for more, love. You're everything."

He takes his time, his touch soft and loving, his movements slow and gentle. His eyes are glued to your face, watching your reactions, making sure you're comfortable and relaxed.

Once he's finished, he leaves the towel near the bed and crawls over you, his body hovering above yours. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin tenderly.

"You alright, princess?" he asks, his brown eyes searching yours, his expression full of concern and care. You nod sleepily, a soft smile on your lips, your eyes heavy with fatigue. You tuck yourself into his side, curling up against him, your body seeking out his warmth and comfort.

Your head rests on his chest, your ear pressed against his heart, the steady thump-thump lulling you into a state of blissful contentment. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

"Sleep, baby," he whispers, his voice barely above a murmur. "I’m here."

Noah’s voice was like a gentle melody, his soft words wrapping around you as his arms held you securely. His warmth seeped into you, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek was the most comforting sound in the world. You felt safe, cherished, completely at ease in his presence.

“I love you,” you mumble sleepily, your voice muffled against his chest. His fingers, still drawing soft circles on your skin, paused for a moment before resuming their tender path.

“I love you more, princess,” he murmured back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re everything to me.”

The weight of his words filled you with a deep sense of belonging. Noah always had a way of making you feel like you were his entire world, like nothing mattered more than being here with you, right in this moment. His touch was gentle, his presence steady, and you knew that no matter what, he would always be there to hold you like this.

As your eyelids grew heavier, you curled further into his side, his warmth surrounding you like a cocoon. His fingers continued their slow, soothing movements, lulling you into a peaceful haze.

“Goodnight, my sweet girl,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

taglist: @aubrey-melinoe @cainified @krrule1 @ihrtlonghairedboys @somewhere-diamond

@thisbicc @lovesick-evangelist @fadingintothegrey @anything-more-than-human

#bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens x reader #smut #fluff #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fluff

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faithfulren · 6 months ago

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veiled affections

hi everyone !! thank u for 250 likes <33 tysm for the support, it means the world to me :)

in the halls of UA, katsuki bakugo and you share stolen glances and secret moments, hiding a forbidden love from the watchful eyes of classmates and teachers. but as the pressure mounts and danger looms, you both realize that keeping your relationship hidden may be harder than you ever imagined.

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the halls of UA academy bustled with activity as students hurried to their next class. among them, you and katsuki bakugo moved with purpose, your steps carefully timed to avoid drawing attention. ever since you started dating in secret, every moment together felt like a precious stolen treasure.

"meet me at the training grounds after class," bakugo whispered as he passed you in the hallway, his crimson eyes flashing with excitement.

you nodded, a thrill coursing through you at the thought of another clandestine meeting. keeping your relationship hidden was risky, but the moments you shared with bakugo made it all worthwhile.

as the final bell rang, you made your way to the training grounds, heart pounding with anticipation. bakugo was already there, waiting impatiently.

"took you long enough," he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips.

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your own smile. "you know I can't just skip class like you."

he stepped closer, his gaze intense as he reached out to cup your cheek. "i missed you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

you leaned into his touch, savoring the rare moment of tenderness. "i missed you too," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words.

but before you could savor the moment any longer, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the spell. with a quick glance around, you both realized that you were no longer alone.

"quick, hide!" you hissed, pushing bakugo behind a nearby stack of equipment.

he scowled but complied, disappearing from view just as your classmates rounded the corner. you held your breath, praying that they wouldn't notice anything amiss.

"hey, have you seen y/n?" one of them asked, scanning the area.

you forced yourself to stay calm, plastering on a nonchalant expression. "nope, haven't seen them."

your classmates shrugged and continued on their way, oblivious to the close call. once they were out of sight, you let out a sigh of relief, turning to bakugo with a sheepish grin.

"that was close," you said, laughing nervously.

he snorted, rolling his eyes. "tch, they almost caught us."

you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "but they didn't. and as long as we're careful, they never will."

he squeezed your hand, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. "yeah, as long as we're careful."

the unease lingered between you, a reminder of the risks you were taking to be together. but as you looked into bakugo's eyes, you knew that it was worth it. no matter what obstacles stood in your way, you were determined to fight for your love.

and fight you did, through secret meetings and whispered conversations, each one a testament to the strength of your bond. but as the days turned into weeks and the pressure of keeping your relationship hidden mounted, you couldn't shake the feeling that danger was closing in.

little did you know, your secret love affair was about to be put to the ultimate test, forcing you to confront the truth of your feelings and the risks you were willing to take to protect the one you loved.

#anime #mha #mha x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #x reader #faithfulren

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flwerswrld · 3 months ago

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relationship headcannons ୨୧ | hsr men

cw: lowercase intended, tooth rottingly fluffy, slight crack if u squint, gender neutral!reader, established relationship for all characters, grumpy x sunshine if you squint (caelus), sick!reader (dan heng), dan heng being a worrywart, marriage #4lifers >_< (welt), flustered geppie, ooc for probably all of them...😞 whoopsies i haven't written fanfic in like 4-5 yrs

character/s included: caelus, dan heng, welt, gepard landau

caelus ♡

- biiiiig cuddler :3

- like this man is ON YOU.

- march has multiple photos of you two attached to the hip (one where u guys were literally HANDCUFFED to each other. caelus wanted to try the idea out, might write a whole other fic just on that)

- literally anything could remind him of you

- he sees a bag of chips? oh, they're y/n's fav, oh i'm thinking of my partner now, oh how i love my partner :3

- ^ literally his thought process

- adding to the last point, he'll find or buy random things to give to you because he thought you'd like it/it reminded him of you

"caelus, are these... cat keychains?" you ask, the gift random, but definitely not unwelcomed, conveyed by the growing smile on your face. "they reminded me of us." he replies, his shoulders moving up and down in a noncommittal shrug. "i'm the orange cat, and you're the black cat."

well... now that you look at it, the keychains do remind you of you and caelus' relationship dynamic. the ginger cat— a tabby, it seems, is laying on the black cat's belly affectionately, the aforementioned feline having an annoyed frown on its face.

"it's cute." pressing a kiss to his cheek, your then soft smile grows into something more joyful. "thank you for the sweet gift, caelus."

and caelus swore to the aeons themselves that he was having heart palpitations from the feeling of your lips on his cheek.

dan heng ♡

- way less affectionate compared to how caelus is, not because he doesn't love you, but because he's more reserved

- doesn't mean he doesn't cuddle, he loves it when you and him have a nice snuggle sesh after a stressful day (but shhhh don't tell him i told you, it's supposed to be a secret 🤫)

"you're sure you don't need more tea?"

- prefers to show you his affections through acts of service rather than words or physical touch

- he's so dorky ugh i want him so bad

"dan heng, i'll be fine—" another coughing fit ensued, the hacking so intense dan heng backs away. "yep, more tea for you." he mumbles under his breath. "and more soup."

he reminds me of a mother hen... you think, sipping on your mug of tea that your lovely boyfriend had made for you. the beverage is hot and relaxing, feeling like a smoldering fire was in your belly whenever you swallow it.

"you know..." you start when he comes back inside your room, looking at your boyfriend with a hint of a smirk on your face. "you remind me of a mother hen, sometimes."

and you almost laugh at the disgruntled expression that appears on his stupidly handsome face. "i do not act like a mother hen—"

"oh, come on! you know you do, babe!"

with his cheeks turning a shade of light pink at the nickname, he sighs. "you can call me whatever you want, just drink your tea, for the love of aeons." he replied begrudgingly. "then give me a kiss!" you shoot back, weakly puckering your lips. "then i'll drink my tea, eat my soup, and then take a niiiiiice long nap."

dan heng stands there for a second, weighing his options. on one hand, he gets to kiss his partner — whom he loves very dearly he might add — to get them to eat their soup and drink the tea he had prepared for them. the only problem is that they're sick.

oh, fuck it.

pressing a kiss to your lips, he sighs into it, pulling away after a few seconds. "there. better now?" he asks.

he got sick two days later, but to him it was worth it.

welt ♡

- this man KNOWS how to treat someone right. i just know it in the deepest parts of my soul.

- shows you the animations that he made when he worked as an animator (it probably has 12 episodes, only 1 season, and ended on a cliffhanger 😞)

- HE DRAWS YOU. IDC. his sketchbook is full of drawings of you, random things he sees while out on his travels with you and the express, and other random doodles

- loves sightseeing with you. every time you go to a new planet you guys take pictures together at every tourist spot

- slow dancing w/ him to frank sinatra... it'd be so cute??? STOP STOP EVERYONE SHUT UP FOR 2 SECONDS. ☹️☹️

you felt like life was perfect right now.

with all the drama on penacony being over, you and welt finally had some free time to just chill out and take a breather.

"this is so nice..." you mumble to yourself, the metal of your ring softly pressing against the skin of your finger as your hands rest on welt's shoulders. "slow dancing is so romantic, don't you think?" welt asks, smiling down at you as frank sinatra records play in the background.

"are you trying to seduce me, mr. yang? even after years of marriage?" you ask, smiling when he spins you around slowly to the soft voice of frank sinatra, and the romantic melodies of the instruments. "and what if i am, mx yang?" he leans down in your ear to mumble, his tone teasing, maybe a bit... mischievous?

when the record stops spinning, welt holds you close to him, heat radiating off of him like a radiator. "hm, you're warm." you mumble, letting out a yawn. "like a heater."

hearing your husband let out a little chuckle, he smiles down at you. "you say this every time we hug."

"is it romantic, though?"

there was a pregnant pause, as if welt was deciding on what to say.

"do you want me to be honest or nice...?"

"welt!"

gepard landau ♡

- he's soooo protective ik it :[ like he's always keeping an eye on you while he's on patrol to make sure you're safe (not in a stalker way, just looking out for you bc he cares (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠))

- gets you something on every holiday, even if it doesn't count as a ‘holiday’. for every valentine's day he buys you chocolates and a cute little teddy bear 🥹🥹 he's so cute

- bc he's so busy with belobog duties(??), he doesn't have much time for dates

- so for the time he does have off, he'll spend with you!! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

- serval is also you and gepard's biggest supporter, and lowkey played matchmaker with you two so you guys could get together

"aww, geppie! this is so cute!" you say, smiling at the rose bouquet and chocolates he had gotten you for valentine's day.

"serval actually suggested for me to buy you them..." the blonde replied, a mixed pile of mush and flustered mumblings underneath his breath. "she said your favourite flowers are roses, so i tried to find the best ones in belobog for you."

you actually think your heart is going to explode. or that you're going to squeeze your boyfriend to death from his cuteness.

and that's exactly what you do, making a mental note to thank serval the next time you see her.

"gepard, you're the best!" you exclaim, leaning your head onto his chest.

"don't mention it, y/n..." he mumbles, praying to qilpoth that you can't hear the relentless beating of his heart, the thumpity thump of it so profound he can feel it in his ears. "it's my duty as your boyfriend to give you gifts."

you also make another mental note: to wife this man up as soon as possible.

#honkai star rail #honkai #hsr #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #caelus #caelus x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #welt yang #welt yang x reader #gepard landau #gepard x reader #first post on this blog!!#so excited #i need to start playing hsr again

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okkotsuus · 4 months ago

Note

Hey, just requesting. How r u? Can I request... Barou Shouei, Karasu Tabito, Shidou Ryusei, Raichi Jingo x GN! Ahodere! Reader (Ahodere: Someone who's very friendly, kind-hearted, and high-spirited, but completely stupid when it comes to romance. They're super dense and usually mistake romantic gestures towards them as something else. Matter of fact, they can even be oblivious to their own feelings. They're like Bakaderes, but Bakaderes are more naive and childish.) Genre: crack, #Save[Various], Reader is as dumb as a rock when it comes to romance - [Various] gets encouraged by their friends (Any group of Blue Lockers of your choice) to finally make a move on Reader (or they encourage themselves with their friends watching). After practice, they finally flirt with Reader. Fairly easy right? Not when your crush is denser than a rock. It's honestly embarrassing to watch.

DENSITY (bllk) !

features: barou shouei. karasu tabito. shidou ryusei.

contents: pining. very fluffy. crack. dense reader. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 karasu. i'm down bad for karasu. shidou is his own warning tbh.

notes: i'm good, how are you? i got lazy and didn't do raichi but i hope i did this the way you wanted, thank you for requesting :))

barou shouei

it was no surprise that barou was incredibly hesitant when it came to romance. he was possibly just as dense as you when it came to the subject.

if it weren't for bachira noticing the way that his gaze would stick to you, how little he shouted in your direction: it would have gone unnoticed. all it took was just a week's worth of constant pestering from his teammates to make him nearly start clawing at the walls.

he was so pissed that they had something to hold over him, someone to torment him with. meanwhile, you were so easily unaffected, it made him question if you even held any affection for him.

but barou is not a doubting man, he doesn't get nervous over something as simple as the idea of being rejected. so, begrudgingly, he ends up walking your way after a long practice: wanting to just get it over with.

a few 'woops' and cheers sound behind him, likely bachira and isagi. he only flips them the birdo over his shoulder before stopping in front of you.

"hey, y/n. go out with me." his voice is slightly rough, eyes narrowed. he may never find himself getting nervous over the most simple things, but barou swears his heart speeds up just slightly.

your eyes widen as your head tilts to the side, brows pinching in confusion. "oh? i'd love to hang out some time! shall we invite the rest of the team and maybe go bowling?" the words nearly have him letting out a shout, eye twitching.

he sighs, gritting his teeth. barou can feel the entire team staring him down, too far away to actually hear the words but still watching. "no, not with those peasants. just us." the man grumbles, the slightest hue of pink rising to the tips of his ears as his eyes hurriedly look off to the side.

then, your eyes widened, a smile crossing your face. "am i getting a surprise for something??" you just sound so damn excited that he can't help but internally groan.

strong hands grab your shoulders, hauling you closer. barou's face is dangerously close, his brows are furrowed and a vein pops out of his forehead. "dammit you moron, i'm hitting on you..!"

"but you're only holding me, not hitting..?" he lets out a loud exasperated shout, turning and storming off while the team watches in awe.

it seems the barou will have to try again another day, he ran out of confidence patience.

karasu tabito

karasu has never been one to have trouble with finding someone, much less with being able to attract them. he was a pretty boy, tall and lean, even had a talent to boot.

but you, you evaded his charms so easily. it made him feel like a damn fool. which leads to him ranting to otoya in the locker rooms after practice.

"i swear man, it's like they don't even see me as a man, ugh..." he trails off with a sigh, eyes closing as his head leans back against the lockers. sweat drips down his face before his eyes open to look back at his friend.

otoya lets out a wicked cackle, amused by his best friend's misery. "then ya gotta do somethin' real bold, make 'em remember!" he offers, smirking as karasu's eyes widen like he had an epiphany.

the taller boy jumps up, shouting a thanks as he rushes out of the locker room. he nearly tumbles over as he skids to a stop in front of you, chest heaving.

karasu backs you up against a wall, eyes narrowing as a smooth smirk splits his pretty pink lips. "wanna get out of here, angel..?" his voice is like honey, thick and sweet.

but you don't even flush, no sense of surprise or nervousness, just that same dumb smile. "are you getting tired of the facility? i'd love to show you around the town at the foot of the mountain!" your words are chipper, but there's no sense of truly understanding what he had actually meant in them.

he swears his heart stops for a moment, eye twitching as his mouth hangs open in shock. but he decides to double down, hands resting against your waist as he leans ever-closer.

"no, but i'm awfully tired of you playing coy..." there's a slight rumble to his voice, convinced you were playing hard-to-get. karasu didn't believe that someone could ever be this dense. especially not with how obvious he's made things.

but you just blink at him, lips parting into an 'o'. he feels his heart stop as he realized you really are just that dumb, he would have to literally spell it out for you.

"i want you, in every sense of the word."

shidou ryusei

ryusei had never been one to falter when chasing the things he wanted. he has never backed down. for the longest time, all he'd desired had been soccer: scoring and winning. but that was until his eyes saw you.

like a predator he found himself observing your every moment, quieter than before. he lingered around you while in blue lock, as if someone would snatch you away.

every goal her scored has pink irises flitting in your directing, a wicked smirk parting his lips when he hears your praises. soccer had never felt so euphoric before.

he begins to crave the feeling, like an addict. ryusei scores goal after goal, getting hits from the little gasps of awe you give him so generously. he finds his cheeks flushed hot pink, eyes nearly rolling back into his head.

it's at that moment he decides he can't stand the thought of ever being without that sensation. so, after practice, only with a few wishes of his failure from rin, he decides to strike.

ryusei finds you easily, as if he was attuned to it. he doesn't introduce himself, just wraps his arms around you from behind, chin propping against your shoulder. "i have never wanted to score anything more than a goal, until you pranced so happily into my life..."

your head tilts back to look at him, a confused look on your face. you show no signs of fluster, expression completely neutral. "thank you?" your voice is perplexed, but still warm.

in that second ryusei realize how much he desires to see your facade crumble. how he wants to see you break and finally realize his intentions. he years to see your face painted in red with wide eyes locked on him: and only him.

and he never loses sight of his goals.

okkotsuus 24

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #barou shouei #barou shouei x reader #barou #barou x reader #tabito karasu #tabito karasu x reader #karasu #karasu x reader #ryusei shidou #ryusei shidou x reader #shidou #shidou x reader

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leejenowrld · 1 month ago

Note

could u do other ppl being interested in in your eyes y/n but y/n is oblivious so shes nice to them but jenos drowning in jealousy or something along those lines ^.^

i’ve written this one before so i’m gonna write something else loosely based off your ask, it’s gonna be a bit different but hope you enjoy it nonetheless

At Jeno’s house party, you found yourself repeatedly glancing at the clock on the wall, each tick seeming to echo louder as the night dragged on. You were there because Jeno loved having you by his side at these events; his smile would stretch wide each time he caught your eye across the crowded room. Despite the pulsating music that threatened to overwhelm your senses, you stayed wrapped in his embrace, savoring his happiness even amidst your own discomfort.

Jeno was visibly high, his eyes glassy and half-lidded from the mix of pills and alcohol he’d indulged in. You watched his eyelids flutter as he swayed to the beat, his arm possessively around your waist. Part of your reason for staying close was to share these moments with him, but more so, it was to keep an eye on him, ensuring his night of fun didn’t spiral out of control.

As you both moved to the rhythm of the loud music, Jeno’s kisses landed frequently and fervently, each one a searing mark of his affection. His hands were bold as they roamed over your body, his grip firm on your hips and occasionally dipping lower to caress your ass, a silent but clear declaration. His public display of affection left no room for doubt; to anyone watching, it was evident that you were his, and he was utterly yours.

“Hey, I’m gonna hang with some friends over there,” Jeno murmured into your ear, his voice slightly slurred. He nodded towards a group of unfamiliar faces. “Wanna come?”

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “Go enjoy, I’ll be here,” you reassured him, your voice nearly lost in the din. He looked hesitant but eventually nodded, squeezing your hand reassuringly before he wandered off, promising to return soon.

Left to yourself, you retreated to a quieter corner, nibbling on some crisps and scrolling through your phone. That’s when you felt an unwelcome tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you met the gaze of a man who reeked of alcohol. His eyes roamed your body in a way that made your skin crawl, and as he stepped closer with a lecherous grin, biting his lip, you instinctively stepped back, bumping into the wall.

“Please, just let me go,” you pleaded as he grabbed your arm, yanking you toward him. The contact made you shudder; the hardness of him pressing against you felt violating.

As you managed to shove him back, Jeno suddenly reappeared. Though you hadn’t noticed him keeping an eye on you, he hadn’t strayed far, always ensuring you were within his sight. His face contorted with rage as he saw the man stumble from your push.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jeno snapped, stepping protectively in front of you. His fists were clenched, his body tense with anger. “If you ever touch my girl again, I swear it’ll be the last thing you do.”

The man, emboldened by substances or sheer foolishness, swung a sloppy punch at Jeno. You cried out, tugging at Jeno’s arm. “Please, it’s not worth it,” you pleaded.

Ignoring your pleas, Jeno dodged the punch and countered with a swift, punishing blow. He quickly handed you his phone and his glass of wine, giving you a brief warning look. “Stay back,” he growled at you, pushing you gently behind him. The fight escalated quickly, with Jeno delivering precise, furious punches. He didn’t stop until he had forced the man out of the door of his apartment.

“You’ve done enough, Jeno!” you shouted, pulling him back from the doorway. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, the adrenaline slowly dissipating. When he turned to face you, his expression immediately softened with concern.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Jeno asked urgently, his hands gently framing your face, searching your eyes for any sign of distress.

You shook your head, moved by his fierce protectiveness. “I’m fine, Jeno, really. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He sighed, relief washing over his features as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I just want to keep you safe, always,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

As the party died down and the room emptied, the two of you found solace in each other’s arms. The chaos of the evening felt like a distant memory as you shared a moment of profound connection, the intense events of the night drawing you even closer. In the quiet aftermath, Jeno’s gentle caresses and tender kisses reassured you of his unwavering commitment, each touch a soft promise of everlasting protection and love.

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rainystarshower · 4 months ago

Note

Hii, i wanted to request a SFW alphabet with dr ratio like you did with aventurine. Thank you!

SFW Alphabet with Dr. Ratio

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

chara : Dr. Ratio

cw : fluff, gn reader, not proofread, slight cussing, is he or is he not mischaracterized let’s find out lads...

a/n : Another Dr Ratio request u guys must love that annoying little pretty guy😭

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈✩┈┈┈┈┈𝄞

A — How they show affection 𝄞≛

I think he shows affection in a rather funny yet cute way! He’ll tell you random facts about whatever you like. Such as, if your favourite were an owl — he’d bombard you in cute owl facts he thinks you’d like, just to make you happy and show off how much knowledge he holds about something you love!

B — How they are as a bestie 𝄞≛

He’d be the type to constantly tell you that; ‘this person isn’t worth it’ ‘he’s a horrible person.’ ‘she got so and so wrapped around her finger. definitely someone who exceeds in social status.’ Trying to find your best match! (Hint: it’s him!<3)

C — How they cuddle 𝄞≛

Not a big cuddler, or so he says. He actually enjoys cuddling with you. When you enter the room, he’ll purposely lift his arm that isn’t holding the book — to rest it behind the couch, indicating you come and cuddle with him. To which you happily oblige! He loves cuddling with you, he’ll just never admit it

D — A domestic life with them 𝄞≛

You two ended up merging your schedules together even unknowingly. Oh, Ratio takes baths at this time? You do too now, and you don’t even know it! Oh, you do this at a certain time? So does he, and he doesn’t know it either!! I think having a domestic life with Ratio wouldn’t be the worst

E — Ending the relationship 𝄞≛

He’ll miss you. He’ll definitely think about you more than he’d like or more than he’d even admit. If you cut the relationship off, he’d be irritated for weeks!! Constantly thinking about what he did wrong and why your reason was bullshit! (It wasn’t.) Safe to assume, it’ll take a really really long time for him to get over you. He’ll be direct if he’s the one breaking it off — telling you all the ‘necessary’ points. Either way, he’ll end up longing and missing your presence in his life.

F — How they feel committing with you being their fiancée 𝄞≛

I think he’d secretly be ecstatic! Oh, you’re his fiancée? Maybe he’s a bit worried he won’t be able to satisfy all your needs or maybe that you’ll ask far too much from him, but he buries that all in the back of his head. He’s more than ready to commit to your relationship with him to another level like this one!

G — How gentle are they with you 𝄞≛

He’s a little less harsh on you than he is with others. Almost all his students point it out, and he denies it, saying he is not harsh towards you at all! He subconsciously makes you look like you’re a being better than any other the second somebody starts the topic about you. He’s so smitten!

H — Do they like hugs 𝄞≛

Not particularly. He is fond of his personal space, but if he’s really in a mood, or you, he’d most definitely accept and enjoy it. He likes your hugs the best.

I — How long does it take for them to say ‘I love you’ 𝄞≛

Quite a while actually. Although, it’s been occupying his mind. How badly he wants to say ‘I love you’ to you, but imagining your reaction or you even looking at him before he says it makes him far more flustered than he realizes. He will say it, when he finally wins the war between his love for you and his pride😭

J — How are they when jealous 𝄞≛

It’s a full interrogation scene straight out of a show! ‘Who was that?’ ‘How long have you known them?’ ‘Who are they?’ and yada-yada. He immediately goes up to you the second he sees somebody being a bit touchy with you, absolutely intimidating them and sort of freaking them out with his sculpture head. He’ll just stand behind you and say “This is my partner.”

K — How do they like kissing 𝄞≛

Oh, he’s a total sucker for them! He loves your kisses, he’s constantly craving a kiss from you no matter his mood, unless it’s something urgently important. If you do sneak a kiss on him whilst he’s very damn busy then he’ll scold you, then nudge you, indicating you should give him one more before he returns to the original topic.

L — How good are they with little ones 𝄞≛

This one’s a funny one!! I can totally see him arguing with some spoiled brat who says Ratio’s wrong about this thing or that thing. But I think he tries to remain calm for ”they rarely know any better. I know much more than them.” but he’d still totally be pissed at them and almost blow his lid! With nicer kids, he’s helping them out to the fullest!! He may not be fond of kids, nor are they fond of him but, he definitely holds care for them, and some kids might like him when they experience the nice Veritas!

M — How are your mornings with them 𝄞≛

Unsure, really. He’ll always wake you up at the same time as him unless you’re really exhausted then he’ll let you sleep and leave a note about what time he went out and some food for you. Although when you wake up together, he’ll take a bath with you, then you two will make breakfast together. Very cute!

N — How are your nights with them 𝄞≛

He’s like one of those people who immediately fall asleep the second the clock hits 10PM. No matter where he is, he’ll fall asleep at 10PM. Which is why, on some days he takes a bath with you at 9PM after dinner. Immediately, he goes on the bed with you, while you are just talking until the clock hits 10PM. Sometimes on nights where he needs to stay up for something important, he’ll do so but, the second he relaxes — he’s out!

O — How open are they with you 𝄞≛

I believe he is quite open with you. He’ll tell you anything that you ask about, so many details to the point you know more than you wanted to! He believes being open with you is the best way to solve any future miscommunication.

P — How patient are they with you 𝄞≛

Quite patient. He’s more patient with you than others. He’ll always help you out when you ask for it! Even if you somehow really get him near the edge, he’ll try his best to remain patient as possible!

Q — Quizz them to know how much do they remember about you 𝄞≛

He remembers everything about you! If you decide to tease him about a question in which he got correct, and you tell him it was wrong — he’ll go on and on about it for hours about how he’s the correct one and that “you don’t know yourself!” if he genuinely wrong though, he won’t take it lightly. He’ll instantly note it down somewhere and try to remember it everyday!

R — What’s their favourite moment in their relationship that they remember 𝄞≛

Everytime you held his hand. Ratio could feel some sort of warm, fuzzy feeling swelling up inside of him when he recalls all the moments you held his hand. Be it while on a walk, you dragging him somewhere, an emotional moment, anything. Ratio would always remember the feeling of your hand. Oh how much he loves that hand he holds so dearly, to never let go of it<3

S — How secure — protective are they of you 𝄞≛

Quite protective. He’s almost like a mother! “Where are you going?” “Who are you going with?” “When will you be back?” and if you finished calling with somebody, if you don’t tell him who called he’ll just ask himself. “who was that?” waiting for you to tell him all the details, if you don’t, that’s also... okay?

T — How hard do they try for their relationship 𝄞≛

He tries the best to his ability. He’s a member of the Intelligentsia Guild after all! Even if he’s busy, he’ll try as much as he can for you. For his love for you and, for your love for him, he’ll try the hardest he can.

U — What’s an ugly, bad habit of theirs 𝄞≛

He’s unknowingly rude at times. If you don’t like somebody or something, and you give him valid reasons — he’ll end up insulting that person more than needed. If you give him invaild reasons, he lets his tounge slip and might accidentally hurt your feelings... Don’t take it to heart too much! He’ll try making up for it...

V — (Vanity) How insecure are they 𝄞≛

Not quite insecure. Maybe to some degree, he fears his words might end up hurting you, but he tries his best to keep it to himself and improve around you. If you found out though, you’ll help him bury his insecurities into the back of his mind so he can be Veritas with you, rather than just Dr. Ratio<3

W — Would they feel incomplete — not whole without you 𝄞≛

Definitely. Without you, he has no muse. He cannot bare himself to find another muse, you are his only muse. How could an artist like him, ever survive without his dearest muse? His inspiration? The beauty of his life?

X — Xtra headcanon 𝄞≛

Ratio has soooooo many drawings and sculptures of you. In every notebook of his, you’ll find a small doodle or a beautiful sketch of yourself. Even if you stumble upon all his sculptures, you’re bound to find a few of yourself in different poses. What you notice about these drawings though, is that he erases something on your ring finger. Even on his sculptures, you could notice small bumps on your ring finger, as if there was something there but he removed it...

Y — What’s in their list of ‘Yuck!’ things 𝄞≛

Undereducated people. If you had trouble in learning due to some mental issue or if you never even been to school, he’ll apologize and help you out. If you’re sloppy and undereducated out of your own laziness, he’d definitely not like that... And I think he would subconsciously make that a bit apparent...

Z — How do they zzz 𝄞≛

He sleeps like a log! Super damn straight, you wonder if he’s breathing or not? You have to sit there besides him for a while, watching his chest go up and down before you sigh of relief to yourself that he is indeed alive and not dead. He sleeps like a total vampire or dead person! When he’s very, very tired though. He might accidentally end up holding you while he’s sleeping. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back closer to his chest<3

—————————

oh god this is WAY longer than I expected uh oh😭 I SWEAR MY FAVOURITE IS AVENTURINE AND NOT RATIO, I SWEAR OM IT PLS...i might do a fanfic of the extra headcanon...it’s so cute...

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t-lostinworlds · 11 months ago

Text

Treasure Be Damned | Nathan Drake

》 PAIRING: movie!nathan drake x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: childhood best friends to lovers; angst; fluff

》 SUMMARY: Nathan wished it didn't take something drastic to happen for him to finally realize what he felt for you. And no matter how much that gold was worth, you will always be his greatest treasure.

》 WARNINGS: both are orphans (mentioned), tech genius!reader, protective!nathan, switch pov halfway thru, kinda canon divergent (a.k.a. i made slight changes to some scenes from the movie), pining, jealousy jealousy, idiots in love, some angst, kidnapping, canon level violence, injuries, love confessions and a cute fluffy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 5.4k+

A/N: hello! me again with another fic. this may seem super random but this was commissioned by the lovely @theslayerofthevampires ! thank u so so much hun <3 my first ever commission btw. trying to stick to a certain word count was actually quite interesting to me alskalsk but this was fun to write and i hope i did it justice!

+ also i couldn't think of a better title and the summary is kinda cheesy but we love cheese in this house so alksalkslaks

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

You and Nathan had been best friends for as long as you could remember.

When he punched a guy twice his size all because they made you cry on your first day at the orphanage, he quickly gained your trust and loyalty. It was reciprocated when you dumped all your lunch on a kid when they poked fun about why his brother left him.

You two had been inseparable ever since.

Nathan was protective of you, and you were protective of him.

As years passed, that protectiveness only grew tenfold. With it came the care and affection that went from strictly platonic to something warmer, sweeter.

For you, at least.

You couldn't pinpoint when it started, all you knew was that everything Nathan did for you suddenly felt special—like it was solely for you.

The change wasn't outright. It was a slow realization, when the little things he did made your heart grow warmer and beat faster all the same.

At first, you thought it was a simple crush—a silly phase, that with time, it would fade.

But no.

As months moved to years, it went from something that lingered to something you couldn't escape from.

The moment you truly figured that what you felt about him wasn't as simple as an adoration for your best friend was on your eighteenth birthday.

Nathan had spent all the money he saved from working odd—and honest, he made sure to make that known—jobs on a silver necklace.

Maybe you watched way too many romcoms, maybe it was all in your rose-tinted head, but there was an underlying romance in the way he stood behind you, so close and warm, as he put the necklace on for you.

With bated breath, you let him, trying your best not to melt over his simple touch. His fingertips brushed against your skin so delicately but felt electric in all the right ways.

You only regained your breathing when he finally stepped back. Yet he took it away a moment later when he gently tapped the charm—shaped like a compass—sitting between your collarbone, a fond smile on his lips when he said,

"So you'll always find your way back to me."

How could you not fall in love?

What a cliché.

Falling in love with your childhood best friend.

It would've been cute if it was reciprocated.

But whatever he saw you as was strictly platonic.

You were constantly reminded of how unrequited your love was with the hook-ups he brought back to the apartment.

You had agreed to be his roommate to help lessen the expenses. Even though you had only recently moved in together, you were starting to doubt if it was a good idea—for your heart's sake, anyway.

It didn't even stop there.

Because here you were once again, sporting an ache in your chest as you watched him flirt with a blonde girl at the bar.

As much as you enjoyed visiting him at work, seeing him flirt with the pretty customers regularly will always leave a bad taste in your mouth.

Jealousy.

A feeling you shouldn't be entertaining in the first place. You were just a best friend. You had no right to go all green-eyed whenever you saw him with another girl.

Nathan Drake wasn't yours.

You didn't even realize that you were too deep into your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you out of it.

"You okay?"

You blinked, looking up to see Nathan regarding you with brows furrowed in concern.

"Huh?"

"You've been glaring at that thing for a good minute now," he explained, nodding at the personalized cocktail he made for you.

He always did that whenever you stopped by, experimenting with new mixes he thought you'd enjoy solely based on how well he knew you. You give him your honest feedback in return. It was your own little game.

"Is it bad?"

"No, no, no," you said, taking a sip before smiling. "I liked it."

"Just 'like', damn. I need to step up my game," he sighed in feigned disappointment. When you didn't react as much, he added, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Nathan looked at you for a moment, lips pursed as he shook his head.

"You're such a bad liar."

"I'm not," you scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "You just know me so well."

"I do," he hummed, grin turning proud. "I also know when something's bothering you so, what's up?"

"Girl things." You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. You could tell it confused him, because he was never uncomfortable to talk about those topics with you. But before he could even question it, you quickly added, "I think I'm going to head home first. You didn't forget your keys, right?"

"That was one time," he grumbled, eyeing you for a moment because he obviously didn't buy your excuse. A second later, he sighed, "Yeah, I got my keys."

"Okay, See you later," you said, gathering up your things before walking towards the door.

"Let me know if you get home safe," he called out.

You only threw him a salute in response.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

It was the harsh light from the huge window in the living room that woke you up.

You must have fallen asleep on the couch in the middle of watching your comfort movie—a poor attempt at trying to distract yourself from your lovelorn predicament.

Who knew dealing with feelings could be so exhausting?

It was the smell of bacon that coaxed you out of your cocoon, though.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Nathan greeted as soon as you stepped into the kitchen. He threw you a warm smile over his shoulder before he continued making breakfast—shirtless, might you add. "There are painkillers beside your water in case your neck is killing you. I would've carried you back to your bed but you kick in your sleep and I've learned my lesson so…"

It did happen once.

He was trying to coax you off the couch and back into the comfort of your bed. But as he got closer, your leg having a mind of its own when you were deeply asleep, you kicked him straight in his jewels—his words, not yours.

The loud thud of him falling on the floor didn't even shake you awake, not even when he was groaning in pain.

You couldn't even remember any of it.

"How many times do I have to apologize for you to let that go?" you chuckled, settling at your usual seat at the small dining table you had.

"Not enough," he snorted. "I still feel the phantom of the kick, you know."

"You're so dramatic." You rolled your eyes, glancing around only to catch a glimpse of that old yet familiar green trunk. It was then you noticed some of his old stuff littered around, trinkets and memorabilia he hadn't looked at in a while. Just as you were about to question him about it, you saw the excited look on his face. You narrowed your eyes, asking, "Did I miss something?"

"Quite a lot, actually," he chuckled, sauntering over to you with your breakfast for the day. Putting the full plate in front of you, Nathan leaned down and quickly kissed your forehead. "Eat. I'll tell you all about it."

You ignored the phantom of his lips on your skin.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

A treasure hunt.

Nathan dragged you into a treasure hunt.

You didn't trust this Victor Sullivan guy, but Nate seemed to be adamant about finding this gold in hopes of finding Sam too. And you trust your best friend's judgment so that made Sully a friend of your best friend, much to your dismay.

"Do I look okay?" you asked, straightening out your long, black evening gown as you emerged out of the makeshift changing room.

When you didn't hear an answer, you looked up to see Nathan staring at you with a certain look in his eyes.

Your face warmed. "What?"

"Okay?" he scoffed, shaking his head as if he was offended by the word you used. With a gentle smile, he gestured at you with both hands. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks. You don't look bad yourself," you responded with a shy smile, unable to hold his gaze for much longer. You fixed your entangled necklace, instead.

"Here, let me," he said, quickly walking over to you to straighten it out, his touch featherlight against your skin. "It's a gorgeous necklace. The guy who gave this to you has good taste."

"If good taste means licking his own ass, then, it's a bit questionable."

"Okay, gross," he playfully grimaced. "All I'm saying is that I picked the right one for you."

"You did." You smiled fondly.

"Perfect," he hummed with a smile, his gaze slowly trailing from your necklace up to your eyes, his next words barely even a whisper. "You're perfect."

You didn't know if it was even meant for your ears but you could only stand there, staring into his brown eyes that seemed to shift from one emotion to another.

Nathan was about to say something when Sully came out of nowhere with that grumpy look on his face.

"Why are we bringing her again?" he asked as if you weren't standing in front of him.

"She's a genius with computers," Nathan said, a bite in his tone. "She's going to help us get through any security tech easy breezy."

Sully narrowed his eyes between you two before shrugging.

"Fine," he grumbled, looking you up and down before walking away. "We leave in ten minutes."

"I don't think he likes me very much," you sighed once the door shut.

"I don't think he likes anyone," Nathan said, smiling at you reassuringly. "Don't take it personally."

And you didn't. Truly.

But when you got to the auction house, it definitely felt more personal when the old man wouldn't tell you anything.

No communication. No updates. No information. Nothing.

Only when you ask Nathan directly were you able to get a grasp of what was going on or when to proceed to the next step—if he wasn't distracted.

With the countless pretty ladies dressed to the nines, you best believe he wasn't anywhere near focused.

You were angry because this was a dire situation. One wrong move could get you guys caught. You were too goddamn young for prison.

You definitely weren't bitter over something else.

"Do you always feel the need to flirt with anything that walks?" you spat when he finally reached the door you'd been trying so hard to keep open without getting caught. It took him three minutes more since he was busy chatting up some random trust fund girl.

"I wasn't—Jesus," he grunted, the door hitting him on the way as you walked past it.

You couldn't be bothered to wait anymore. You didn't look back and simply sped walk towards the power switch.

"You're upset," Nathan said once he caught up with you.

"I'm not upset," you grumbled. "I'm annoyed."

"It's the same thing."

"It's fucking not."

"Okay, geez," he conceded, pouting, "What'd I do?"

"What aren't you doing?" you asked sarcastically, harshly tapping on your phone as you tried to decode the security lock on the main switch. "Oh right, focusing on your job!"

"Christ, do you two always bicker like an old married couple?"

"Shut up!" you and Nathan barked synchronously.

Shaking your head, you calmed yourself, punching in the security code.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I was just trying to scope potential—"

You glared at him.

"I'm shutting up."

"Just do your thing. I want this over and done with," you grumbled, stepping aside once the circuit box finally opened.

"You're a genius," he praised with a smile, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. "Thank you."

"Whatever."

You wished you could say everything went smooth sailing from there, but when did it ever?

Everything happened so fast.

One minute you two were walking out of the control room, the next you were being chased down but huge men.

Running in heels was not fun.

And then it was a blur, someone grabbing your arm in a way that made you scream in pain to Nathan tackling the guy to the ground, landing blow after blow to his face until blood started to splatter on the suit he was wearing.

"Touch her again and I'll kill you."

You'd never seen him so angry before.

But that anger quickly disappeared when he fussed over you, hands soft against your cheeks yet the panic and worry were evident in his eyes.

It took several 'I'm fine's and a couple more reassurances that you weren't badly hurt to get him to fully calm down and help you up so you could get out of this place.

Unbeknownst to you, there were curious eyes watching everything closely with a knowing yet wicked smile on her lips.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

You thought the feeling of being outcasted was only a small blip at the auction house.

But you were so wrong.

"What happened to you?" you asked when he finally met up with you at the church in Barcelona, soaking wet from head to toe.

"Long story."

"So you brought your girlfriend with you" A girl—Chloe, you later learned—suddenly appeared.

"She's not my girlfriend," Nathan quickly corrected.

Yes, it was true.

But the way he shut it down so quickly as if the thought made him hurl made the sting harsher.

It didn't take long for you to notice how Nathan seemed to be following Chloe around a lot.

So much so that you were becoming more of an afterthought.

They were always conspiring amongst themselves. It was in their line of expertise, you supposed, and you were just the tech girl. But it wasn't like you were clueless about it. Nate has told you enough stories for you to get the gist of what was going on.

It was getting pathetic, trailing behind them like some puppy, wanting to feel included.

When Nathan argued with Sully that you were not leaving his side when it was time to split up, you could only laugh at it now.

What was the point when you were immediately alone when you got into the tunnels?

Even more as you stood by yourself at the club, watching him dance with Chloe, so close, in the guise of blending in.

Maybe if you weren't distracted you would've noticed the man sneaking up behind you. You would've been able to run before he could grab you from behind, hand over your mouth as he started dragging you backward. And maybe you were quite good at kicking someone's jewels when you hit the jackpot the first time, enabling you to escape and scream for help.

You were yelling Nathan's name, but it was the loud gunshot that caught his attention.

It was heartbreaking to think that it took you getting shot in the leg for him to fully acknowledge you.

You were overwhelmed with too many emotions that you became numb, simply letting them take you back to the safe house in silence.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he sat by your temporary bed, carefully wrapping the bandage on your thigh after he cleaned it. Thankfully, the bullet was only meant to slow you down, not kill. "I'm supposed to be looking out for you."

"It's fine," you sighed. You knew he was being sincere. He looked thoroughly distraught when he saw you drop to the ground. You knew it wasn't his fault, and you knew he was already blaming himself enough. But with the pain and bitterness—both physically and emotionally—you couldn't stop it. "You were busy. I get it."

He frowned. "What's with that tone?"

"There's no tone," you grumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"You're annoyed."

You shook your head. "I'm not annoyed.'

"So…you're upset," he hummed, reaching for your hands. You pulled away, carefully getting comfortable on the bed.

"I'm going to sleep," you sighed, pulling the covers over you.

Nathan got the hint, standing from his seat with a sigh, "Okay, goodnight, just…call me if you need anything."

So when you woke up in the middle of the night when a sudden sting went up your leg, you quickly yet carefully got out of bed to look for him.

You wish you hadn't bothered.

The last thing you wanted to see was him and Chloe getting cozy on the balcony, a bottle of wine between them.

You figured you weren't important enough to interrupt their moment. Besides, the ache in your leg couldn't compare to the absolute pain in your heart. It only intensified when they started leaning toward each other.

So you quickly went back to bed, tainting the pillowcase with salted tears.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Here." Nathan kneeled in front of the foot of the bed, tying your shoelaces for you. "So, I've been thinking…"

"Uh oh," you joked.

"Maybe you should sit this one out."

Your smile quickly got wiped off your face.

"What?"

Nathan glanced at the door. You followed his gaze, catching a glimpse of Chloe before she hurriedly walked away.

You pressed your lips, nodding in understanding.

"It's not what you think it is," Nathan placated.

"Sure it's not," you scoffed.

"Look, you're injured and—"

You stood up, abruptly cutting him off. You grabbed your bag, limping around the room as you gathered your stuff.

"Woah careful, your wound is still fresh," Nathan followed you around, arms out in case you stumbled. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving. That's what you wanted, right?"

"What? No!" he rushed, hands on your shoulder, stopping you. "What I meant was, you need to recover first."

"Right," you scoffed, shrugging him off before you continued packing. "Because it's going to be dangerous and you're looking out for me, trying to protect me and all that bullshit."

"It's not bullshit!"

"You know, after all we've been through, I thought I could count on you to at least be honest with me," you said bitterly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," you pressed, harshly zipping up your bag. "If you wanted me out of the picture, you could've just said so."

Shaking his head, he argued, "That's not it."

"Maybe," you said, looking him straight in the eyes. "But fewer people, more gold to go around, right?"

That rendered him silent.

"You've known me your whole life," he started, hurt flickering in his irises. "You really think I'd do that to you?"

"I don't know anymore, Nate." You threw your hands up exasperatedly. "Because ever since you met them, I barely recognize you anymore. You've been wanting their approval so bad you're getting desperate for it.

"And I always thought that when we get the chance to find this treasure, we'll do it together, side by side like we always do. But all I've done this whole time is be a third wheel to whatever this is." You gestured at him and the door, laughing sarcastically. "Fourth, if you include Sully."

"That's not true," he argued weakly, realization dawning on his face.

"You whisper among yourselves, nobody tells me a fucking thing, you don't even tell me anything anymore! I'm always left chasing after you because you couldn't be bothered waiting for me to catch up. Fine, I might not know everything about this treasure but it'd be nice to get filled in every once in a while instead of leaving me clueless! Hell, you're starting to forget you brought your best friend with you—"

"I didn't forget about you—"

"You didn't even notice I was getting dragged away until I was shot!"

Nathan looked away.

"All of you are always excluding me and it sucks," your voice cracked, blinking away unshed tears. "And don't think I didn't see you conspiring with Chloe last night."

He looked confused. "Last night?"

"When I came looking for my best friend for help because my leg was hurting like a bitch but I didn't want to be a cockblock so, you're welcome."

"You're not—" Nathan cleared his throat, shoulders slumping, looking at you apologetically. "Y/N…"

You shook your head, harshly wiping at your eyes, putting your jacket on. "The more it goes on, the more I think that you just brought me along because it was convenient for you. Now that I'm considered a liability, gotta leave the extra baggage right?"

"That's not fucking true!" he gritted, pulling his hair frustratedly. "You're part of this as much as I am!"

"Right. Where are we going next?"

Nathan blubbered like a fish out of water.

"That's what I thought," you scoffed, slipping your backpack on.

"Wait, dammit," he cursed when you walked past him, chasing after you into the living room. Frustrated, he called out, "All I'm asking is for you to sit this part out because you're hurt."

You stopped, slowly facing him.

"I never thought that the loneliest I'd ever feel is when I'm supporting you to chase this dream you'd been wanting ever since you were a kid," you admitted, chest tightening as you stared into his troubled brown eyes. "So, I'm not sitting this one out, Nate, I'm done."

You shoved the cross right on his chest.

"Have fun on your honeymoon," you said, bumping his shoulder as you walked out the door.

"Y/N!"

You never looked back.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Nathan was smart in a lot of different aspects. But emotions and feelings?

Oh he was stupid as fuck.

He wished it didn't take something drastic to happen for him to accept what he truly felt for you.

Part of him was relieved because at least you weren't there when the plane fiasco happened, especially with your injury. He was appeasing his guilt by telling himself that you were safer this way.

Nathan wouldn't know what to do with himself if something worse happened to you.

But as he was decoding the postcards Sam sent—a difficult task to focus on when he couldn't stop worrying about you so much—Chloe suddenly came in with a package.

"It has your name on it."

He opened it confused, but nothing could prepare him for what was inside.

The dread and fear started to creep up his spine when he held the silver necklace he gave you.

You never took this off.

As he emptied the box in a rush, photos upon photos of you tied up and gagged, beaten and bruised with blood tainting your delicate skin, Nathan felt like his entire heart was taken from him.

'The map or her. Choose wisely.'

It came in flashes, moments where you'd been there for each other, the joy and heartbreak, success and failures—you were always there, his one constant.

Then came the moments where he dreamed about you and him, doing things best friends shouldn't be doing.

He always knew what he felt about you but he shoved it down in fear of ruining the friendship you'd built over the years. But now? Denying it seemed insignificant. Now there was a chance he wouldn't be able to tell you at all.

Nathan was losing the love of his life.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"That didn't take long," Braddock laughed sardonically, standing up from a large rock nestled on the beach somewhere in the Philippines.

"Where is she," Nathan growled, the tube map holder slung on his back.

Braddock nodded at one of her men, Nathan's heart sinking to his stomach when they dragged you in, your yelp piercing his chest when they shoved you on the sand.

Nathan instinctively tried to run for you.

"Not so fast," Braddock hummed, clicking her gun before pressing it on the back of your head. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"I think you already figured out I don't play games when it comes to her."

"Well, let's see," she challenged. "On your knees, Drake."

"N-Nate," you whimpered, adamantly shaking your head. Even in your state, you were still trying to protect him.

"It's okay," he reassured with a smile, hands up as he did as told.

Braddock grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you closer to where he was.

He stifled his anger. But best believe he'd already plotted so many ways to make Braddock suffer for what she did to you.

But one wrong move could cost your life.

"Hand it over."

"Untie her."

Braddock rolled her eyes but did so anyway.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Nathan whispered, your tear-filled eyes meeting his. He lifted his chin once, gaze flickering behind you. "I got you, okay? You're going to be okay."

"Enough with this sappy bullshit. Hand over the map or she dies."

Nathan slowly grabbed the map, only to throw it away as far as possible.

On cue, a huge explosion distracted Braddock enough for you to abruptly stand on your feet, hitting her under the chin with your head.

"You bitch!" she yelled, dropping the gun.

Nathan quickly pulled you aside and grabbed the weapon. With no remorse, he shot Braddock on both thighs, once more on the arm to be petty.

He'd do much worse if you weren't on borrowed time.

Nathan grabbed your hand and made a run for it.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The silence was tense.

But Nathan was focused on taking care of you first.

He was busy enough trying not to cry whenever he'd discover a new cut and bruise on you that he couldn't even dwell on the fact that you were showering together. You were both in your underwear, but still.

It was when he had you sitting on the counter as he patched you up when you spoke.

"You didn't have to do all that for me."

"You know, it hurts me so much that you think I wouldn't take a bullet for you," he sighed, finishing up a bandage before meeting your glossy eyes. "You're more important to me than you think you are."

"No, I know it's just—" You bit your bruised lip. Nathan quickly pulled it away with his thumb, not wanting you to worsen your injury. You leaned into his touch as you continued, "You've been dreaming of this since you were a kid and I feel like I've ruined it for you."

"You didn't ruin anything."

"But you should be out there looking for the gold," you said. "Instead you're stuck here with me."

"Listen to me, if I had to choose between that gold and—" He took a breath, holding your face in both hands as he stared at you longingly. "The woman I'm hopelessly in love with then…"

Nathan breathed out with a smile, "Fuck that gold."

You stared at him in a way that made him believe that he'd done it.

He'd finally ruined your friendship to a point of no return.

That until you broke out into the sweetest, brightest smile that made his heart grow and his knees weak all the same.

"It's not as hopeless as you think it is."

Nathan felt like his heart was about to burst.

"Yeah?" He grinned, giddy and warm, gently parting your legs and stepping a little closer.

You let him into your space. But suddenly your brows furrowed, frowning. "What about you and Chloe?"

"So you were jealous."

"Nate."

"There's no me and Chloe," he reassured, gently taking your hands, kissing the insides of your wrists before placing them on his shoulders. "Maybe I got the incredibly stupid idea to make you jealous—I know, baby, I'm an idiot—but she shot that down real quick."

"But—"

"Those times you've seen me with her, all I kept talking about was you," he admitted, blushing. "I'm sure she'd grown sick of me being lovesick."

Nathan probably talked her ear out about how hopelessly in love he was with you, seeking advice on what to do because it was the one thing he couldn't go to you about.

She had been really helpful, pushing him to confess because it was better you know before it's too late, and that in this line of work, you'd never know when that would be.

If only he hadn't let his cowardness win.

"She argued with me that leaving you behind was a bad idea, and if I listened to her I—" He pressed his forehead against yours with a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."

"I know you like to take all the blame but this isn't your fault," you hummed, fingers combing the straggles of hair on the nape of his neck.

"It kind of is," he pressed, eyes watering as he thought about what he dragged you into.

He couldn't stop thinking about the pain you'd gone through all because he was being reckless. For as long as he could remember, he made a vow to himself to always keep you safe no matter what. Yet here he was, failing at that—failing you.

"I'm sorry for being such a shitty best friend this past week," he said, caressing the apples of your cheeks.

"You were pretty shitty," you teased, though he could see the way your body relaxed a little. He could tell that you appreciated hearing his apology. It must've been weighing on you since you left.

It made his heart ache.

"I was and I'm sorry," he said regretfully. "I guess I just got so caught up in this whole treasure-hunting thing that I lost sight of what's truly important to me. But still, it's no excuse. I was the one who dragged you into this, I should've been attentive enough."

You turned your head and kissed his palm, a silent way of saying it was okay. He felt like he was about to melt.

"And I'm sorry for taking so goddamn long to tell you how I feel," Nathan admitted.

"Yeah well," you hummed, smiling at him sweetly. "We're both at fault on that one,"

"Still, I'm sorry," he whispered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "For everything."

You nodded, a smile on your lips. "I can't say I forgive yet—"

"Understandable."

"But hey," you hummed, leaning closer. "You have plenty of time to grovel and make up for it."

Nathan chuckled, brushing his lips against yours with a whisper, "Can I start with a kiss?"

You nodded with that cute giggle of yours, one that still echoed as he finally closed the distance.

So many things filled him up at once—soft, sweet, warm. So many emotions rattling his heart as your lips molded into one—relief, passion, love.

It was gratifying, a kiss he'd been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. But, with your fingers in his hair and his hands on your waist, your warm body flushed to his with no space in between, nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

And yes, it was going to take some time to repair the cracks that were made in your relationship. But he was willing to wait and do whatever it takes to gain your full trust back.

Nathan didn't care how long or how much work it would take, as long as at the end of every day, you came back home to him—it was more than worth it.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"Kid, are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry, Sully," Nathan said unapologetically. "But whatever the wife says, goes and her plan is usually better than yours."

"I'm technically not your wife yet," you giggled, your engagement ring glinting as you continued bypassing the security cameras using your phone.

"Technically, yes," he agreed, shrugging. "But in my head, you've been my wife ever since you put that ring on."

"Always thinking ahead, huh?" You finished up the job, slipping your phone into your pocket before turning to him with a raised brow.

"Oh yeah," he hummed, pulling you closer by the waist. "And once we get married, in my head, we already have three kids."

"Three?" you choked out a laugh.

"Five?"

"Let's start with one and see where that goes."

"We should definitely practice later."

"Do I always have to remind you two that this is an open line?"

"Oh we know," Nathan hummed, kissing you with a loud smack which earned an annoyed groan. He then gestured at the door with a bow. "After you, Mrs. Drake."

"Still up for debate."

"I'd take your last name any day."

"I was thinking hyphenated."

"Not a bad shout."

"Get moving you two!"

"Sully, you're getting so close to getting your wedding invite revoked."

You laughed at that.

Nathan couldn't resist kissing you once more.

"Let's go," you giggled against his lips. "We still have treasure to find."

"I'm in no rush," he shrugged, brushing his nose against yours. He was sure his eyes were glowing with pure adoration. "Already got the best one right here."

You groaned and called him cheesy but you still kissed him anyway.

Treasure be damned, with you by his side, Nathan was the richest man alive.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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