#i just have so many feelings abt them... cups them in my hands

[sarcasticbeanie]

Little swallow, Brightly dressed, Returns to us each Spring So I ask, Little bird, “Why are you here?” “I am here,” Says he, “To see the brightest of Spring.”

Little Swallow (小燕子), Chinese nursery rhyme.

#jason todd #dc #bruce wayne #catherine todd #beanie art #its almost 4 am i literally just realisxzed. oh well if theres anything wrong w this dont come at me im almdsot. asleep. i just hace #i just have so many feelings abt them... cups them in my hands #batfamily

[iluvpjo]

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 𝓖𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼

Synopsis: Luke and you went to a party being held at camp that Mr. D and Chiron have no clue about, whilst there you happen to get drunk and your best friend Luke has to keep an eye on you and take you back to your cabin. When you guys get back you drunkenly spill your feelings for him and start to get touchy, and your best friend has a hard time saying no to you.

Warning(s): NSFW! MDNI, alcohol! Drunk reader, I never edit or proof read my fics btw ermmm

Pairing: Luke Castellan x fem reader

Word count: 7,938k (bit long sorry I got excited writing abt Luke for the first time haha)

*No specified godly parent for reader

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The night was drawn on for a long time, it seemed that no matter how many songs were played that no time was passing at all. Luke stood in the corner of the party underneath a tree, brushing off the few girls that attempted to speak to him. He didn’t wanna talk to them, not when he had to keep his eyes on you. His best friend for years, the two of you clicking immediately as soon as you arrived at camp, it was like you were meant for each other. In a platonic way obviously, the both of you thought — and lied to yourselves about it often.

There you were, stumbling around the party as your tired legs struggled to keep up. Luke furrowed his brows staring at you, he knew you were a strong girl but he couldn’t help but be worried for you. The two of you arrived at the party together but as you kept drinking and having fun you eventually grew apart from him, dancing like no one was watching in the crowds of other campers. It was shocking that Mr. D and Chiron hadn’t noticed the party at all, if they had then they’d surely have shut it down.

Luke eyed the cup you were holding, you’d probably swapped cups around seven to eight times by tonight. The classic red solo cups from the movies, one held loosely in your palm. With the way you were swaying around trying to stand properly you’d probably end up dropping your cup if you weren’t careful, then you’d come over and whine to Luke about it anyways. So Luke decided to approach you again, walking up beside you and gently tapping your shoulder to get your attention. You flinched for a second, shrugging your shoulder to get his hand off of you.

“Wha—? Get off me..” You murmured as you kept looking away, not yet noticing who the man was standing next to you. “It’s only me.” Luke replied, moving his hand back to touch your shoulder again. You smiled and turned your head as you heard his voice, your lips curled up a little crookedly. You definitely looked drunk. “Oh! Hey Lukeeee.. Where’ve you been? ‘Missed you.” You twisted around to open your arms and hug him, your cup falling to the ground absentmindedly. The cup you’d been holding for the last ten minutes, sipping and holding onto it like it was your most prized possession — discarded in just a second.

“You’re drunk.” Luke sighed and shook his head a little as he looked at you, your arms wrapped loosely around his torso and you pressed the side of your face to his chest. “Maybe a little tipsyyyy.. but I didn’t have THAT much to drink!” You laughed it off and shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve been going back and forth all night grabbing yourself drinks, you’re more than just a little tipsy.” Luke pinched his nose bridge before reluctantly rubbing your back.

You hummed happily as he pet your back “Hm? ‘You been watching me? Pfft.. Stalker.” You giggled again. Luke couldn’t help smiling to himself a little, shaking his head at you “Maybe we should head back to the cabins soon, yeah?” Luke suggested. He’d hoped that you’d agree and that you’d stop drinking, with the way you were already he was a little nervous thinking about you getting any drunker. “Whaaaat? Noooooo.. The party only just started!” You whined and stomped your foot on the dirt like a child who hadn’t gotten their way.

“We’ve been here for three hours already, aren’t you tired?” Luke asked you with a softer voice now after seeing you getting a little whiny. He didn’t like upsetting you, it hurt his heart when he did. He liked making you happy, he’d do anything to keep a smile on your face. He’d slay a man for you if you even just suggested the thought of it. “Tired? Nooo.. I’m very much awake! You can go to bed if you’re tired though, ‘you don’t need to stay here just for me..” You said to him as you slowly pulled away from your hug.

Luke gave a small pout to himself after you’d said that “No, I wouldn’t leave you alone here.” He answered immediately “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” You shook your head at him as you wore a drunken smile. “I know you can, but I wouldn’t feel like a very good best friend if I left you by yourself.” Luke gave back a sympathetic smile, letting you know that he’d never doubt your ability to protect yourself. You were a big strong girl, but you were his big strong girl, so he couldn’t risk leaving you alone at the party to be talking to any other guys.

You stared at him blankly for a moment as you tried to process what he said, giggling to yourself a little as you swayed a bit. “Well.. now that you’re here with me.. let’s go dance!” You exclaimed and moved to grab both his hands in your excitedly. You acted excited every-time you two hung out together, like every moment hanging out together was a special thing— and it honestly was to you. Luke gave a soft sigh as you held onto his hands, shaking his head before giving you a small smile “..fine. Lead the way party girl.”

You dragged him along towards the center of it all, there were already a few drunk campers dancing together around you two. Luke regretted listening to your suggestion after you’d both stepped inside the small crowd of people, but the thought quickly faded away when he saw your bright smile on your face. It made him feel special that you always wore that big beautiful smile around him, and of course you would. He made you happy, there was never a bad moment with him, because the two of you were best friends for life.

“Dance with me!” You laughed and began to dance, swaying yourself side to side and twisting your body to go with the music. “You’ll be the death of me.” Luke commented to himself before joining you slowly, hoping not to attract any attention to the two of you. He copied as you did, swaying his body to the side and watching you with a glimmer in his eyes. Underneath the soft moonlight, the lit lanterns, and the occasional bright coloured lights scattered around the party, he thought you looked beautiful. He thought it often but it wasn’t often that it was ever spoken out loud.

After a couple minutes of dancing you began to grow tired, slowly letting yourself slump down. Luke caught you in his arms, letting you fall into his chest as you lost your balance. You giggled to yourself at your drunken clumsiness, putting your hands on his chest and moving your head to look up at him. “Don’t worry, I got’cha .” Luke murmured as he held your weight against him, making sure you wouldn’t fall to the floor and hurt yourself. “Heh.. Lukeeee..?” You slurred as you spoke to him.

“Yes?” Luke tilted his head at you and smiled to himself, wondering what drunken nonsense you’d spit up next. “Have I ever told you how much I loveee youuu?” You asked him, the question caught Luke off guard and he blinked confusedly for a second before answering. “What do you mean..?” He asked before shrugging and talking again “I- I think you’ve told me before. Maybe on my birthday or something.” He looked to the left trying to remember. “Mm.. Weeeeelllllll… I love you Luke! You’re my bestest friend forever and ever!!” You confessed to him.

“Yeah? I love ya too.” He couldn’t help but feel a weird weight on his chest after you’d said that, he thought that maybe you saying that last bit was a little unnecessary — of course he was your best friend forever and ever. But why had he expected you to have said something else? He tried to shake off the feeling, but he wasn’t able to. He couldn’t shake the feeling out of his chest when you were leaning your pretty face on it, nuzzling up against him like he was simply a warm pillow or something.

“Y-You’re so pretty Lukeeee.. Love you so much.” Luke could feel how drunk you were now with the way you were speaking to him, the look in your eyes also made him sorta nervous. Your drunken eyes stared up at his face through your long eyelashes, the alcohol not being able to mask the sheer look of want in your eyes. Luke stammered as he spoke, a little flustered from your words, but he tried to keep a regular mindset. “You think I’m pretty?” He asked and blinked confusedly “Of courseeee I do! I love your face.. and your eyes.. and your hair..” you started to mindlessly mumble.

Luke snapped you out of it “I think it’s time you go to bed sweet girl.” Luke mumbled back to you softly, moving his hand to gently rub your back. You nodded your head this time instead of fighting, moving your hands to cling to his chest. Luke sighed as he got what you wanted him to do, picking you up off of the ground and swinging you over his shoulder. He was lucky you weren’t the kind of drunk to get easily sick or else you probably would’ve thrown up your dinner from the action. You giggled to yourself in glee, swinging your legs back and forth as he held you tightly. It didn’t hurt but he didn’t want you to fall or anything, he was always so careful with you.

“Sleep over..” You told him as you both started heading over to the cabins, your head hanging low near his hips as he held you over his arm. “Hm? You want me to sleep over in your cabin with you?” Luke asked you, he wasn’t sure if he should — but he wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t. He’d feel bad if you became sick and needed him, but you were the luckiest camper in the world and had a whole cabin to yourself. Luke wouldn’t be able to simply sleep in an empty bunk or something like that, if he was gonna sleep over he’d have to sleep right next to you. The two of you hadn’t done something like that before, perhaps you both sat on your bed talking but you’d never actually slept together.

“Yeahhh!! Please Luke?” He couldn’t see you but he knew that you were making those puppy dog eyes at him, probably pouting your lips too like usual whenever you’d ask him for something. “Hm.. Okay, I’ll sleep over. I’ll take care of you, my drunken girl.” He snickered a little to himself after saying that last bit playfully. You liked his comment too, because not only did Luke hear you giggling but also because (and he couldn’t see you doing it) you were blushing.

Luke walked up to your cabin and swung open the door, closing and locking it behind the two of you so no campers would come in while you were sleeping. Luke walked over to your bed and set you down gently, lying you on your back so you’d be comfortable. You smiled up at him stupidly as he set you down, your hands making grabby motions towards him ushering him to come down towards you. Luke shook his head with a smile at your antics, kicking off his shoes and laying down beside you.

Luke laid on his back facing the ceiling, feeling a little bit awkward as he was lying there beside you. You turned around as soon as he laid down, twisting onto your side to face him happily. “Hehe, hi.” You giggled to yourself as you stared at him, Luke decided to amuse you and he turned to face you like you did to him. “Hello.” He chuckled quietly to himself at your drunken silliness, he didn’t really like you being drunk but he couldn’t lie that he found your drunken antics to be rather cute.

“Lukkkeeeee..” You dragged his name out to get his attention, he rolled his eyes for a second “Yes? What is it now, hm?” He hummed “You’re so handsome.. ‘love you..” You softly spoke, your eyes looking at him a little dazed. Luke had been getting flustered from you more than enough times tonight, and now that you’d said that he was flustered yet again. He blinked in surprise and slight confusion, wondering to himself why you’d say that so suddenly. He figured it was the alcohol.

“What makes you think that?” He asked you a little quietly, smiling to himself as he looked back at you. “I told youuuuu! Everything about you is so handsome and pretty.. My pretty boy.” You answered his question, slowly moving to nuzzle your head against his chest. Luke was more than surprised now, completely caught off guard yet again. ‘Is this still.. friendly?’ Luke thought to himself as he felt you nuzzle your face against him. “You’re drunk sweet girl, you ‘dunno what you’re talkin’ about..” Luke said, moving one of his hands to gently rub his knuckles against your soft cheek.

Luke could feel the heat radiating off of your face, your cheeks were flushed and flustered — and not only from the alcohol. “I might be drunk, but I know you’re still a pretty boy..” You pouted your lips as you said that. ‘Why’s he not taking me seriously? I’m not stupid.. I’m not THAT drunk.’ You thought to yourself, did he think that you were so drunk that you wouldn’t be able to remember his gorgeous face? Never. Not when you thought about him so often. He was your best friend, how could you not? Especially when you had secret feelings for him.

Unfortunately however, your drunk self had absolutely no clue that it was supposed to be a secret. Here you were mumbling about how pretty he is to you, and dragging your fingernails up and down his arm gently leaving goosebumps in your wake. “You thinkin’ straight party girl? I think the alcohol is getting to you, maybe it’s best we go to sleep..” Luke answered with a softer voice, his face etched with concern. Luke moved his hand to touch your forehead, feeling your temperature.

He then moved his hand down to feel your cheek. Your drunken self smiled dumbly at his actions, leaning into the touch affectionately like he was just cupping your face for fun. “I’m fine Luke, ‘m not a baby. I don’t wanna go to sleep, ‘m not tired.” You whined and furrowed your eyebrows at him. He would’ve thought you were genuinely upset if it weren’t for the cute pout that painted your lips, or for the soft gradient on your cheeks. “You’re drunk, and you’re not thinking right. Sleep’s good for you.” Luke replied.

“Hmph. ‘Don’t care. Why do you think I’m not thinking right? I’m thinking completely normally!” You huffed and moved back a little, crossing your arms over your chest. There was a soft pang in Luke’s chest, he didn’t wanna see you upset - even if you were acting like a bit of a whiny brat. He spoiled you with the way he treated you, and tonight would be no different. He was your best friend and he’d take care of you for as long as the boy could breathe, protecting you and serving you with his life practically.

“No, you’re not. You keep complimenting me and telling me you love me, you’re obviously out of it.” Luke pinched his nose bridge, but he wasn’t annoyed nor irritated with you at all. He’d never be like that with you. “But you ARE pretty and handsome.. And I DO love you. What’s wrong with what I’m saying? You don’t like itttt?” You asked him, tilting your pretty head to the side. “It’s not that. It’s just- you’d never say this stuff sober.” Luke couldn’t help chuckling to himself a little, despite the slight weight his sentence had on his own heart.

“I’m worried about what you’ll think when I’m sober.” You were quick to answer, like you’d already thought of it when you weren’t drunk. “I’d never get upset with you, you know that. But you don’t really think these things when you’re sober.. do you?” Luke was preparing for you to tell him that it was some sort of joke. His heart already hurt thinking about it. “Huh? ‘Course I do. I think about you alllllll the timeeee!” You confessed with a soft laugh “No you don’t, the alcohol is messing with your head.” Luke sighed softly and shook his head.

‘Why doesn’t he believe me?’ You thought to yourself, feeling Luke’s hand comfortingly caress your cheek like he was taking care of someone sick. You weren’t sick. “You can’t tell me what I think.. and the alcohol isn’t messing with my head!!” You complained, starting to get a little irritated that he wasn’t believing your words. “Of course it’s messing with your head sweet girl, why else would you be saying these things?” He asked “Because its true. Because you’re my pretty best friend, and I thought it was obvious that I wan’ more than that..” You huffed.

You didn’t even realise the words that just escaped your lips, not even after you’d said it. You were drunk, and when you were drunk you’d just say whatever’s on your mind, even if it was a secret you were never meant to speak out loud. “W-Wait.. Huh? You.. want more than us being friends? Like what?” Luke already knew the answer but for some reason the doubt in his brain was telling him that you obviously meant something else. You couldn’t want him like a lover, why would you when you were the most perfect girl in the world to him. You could probably have any guy you want, why’d you want him?

“Sometimes when I look at your face for too long I get sad that I can’t kiss you..” You confessed, your eyes moving from staring at his face in general to down at his lips. Luke licked his lips to wet them absentmindedly. “You do?” He was torn, not knowing wether or not if it was just the alcohol talking. “So often.. It surprises me that you can’t tell- but I’m glad you can’t. Don’t wan’ you to know how I feel about you because I ‘dunno how you’d react.” You confessed with this slight sad look on your face.

“I think you just told me? But sweet girl, how do you know it isn’t just the alcohol talking? Making you think you’ve got feelings that aren’t really there?” Luke asked and pulled you in for a hug, feeling upset with himself that he was making you sad. “Because I don’t just feel them when I’m drunk! I wan’ you everyday… I wanna kiss you and hug you, I want so much more than what we have..” You sighed and lowered your head to bury it into his chest. “I.. I ‘dunno if I can accept your feelings when you’re drunk sweet girl.” Luke started to gently rub your back to comfort you again.

“Whyyyyyy..?” You were pouting your lips again, and you looked like your eyes were about to well up with tears. Luke felt his heart shatter for you, he was making you feel like this? Luke pulled away from the hug that he’d roped you into, keeping his hands on your shoulders so that you’d look up at his face when he spoke next. “I wouldn’t wan’ you to make any bad decisions when you’re drunk. If I accept your feelings right now then you’re probably gonna wanna kiss and eventually that’d lead to making out and- I just don’t want you to wake up upset the next day regretting it.” Luke looked you in the eyes.

“Hmph!” You huffed and looked away from him, whining to yourself in your head about how you weren’t getting what you wanted. “You know what? You’re right.” You said, returning your gaze to look up at him with slightly squinted eyes. “Alright.. Thank y-“ you cut Luke off before he could finish his sentence “-I would wanna kiss you tonight. And I would wanna makeout with you too. But you’re wrong about me regretting it, I don’t regret anything I do with you.” You finished. “I’m sober, and you’re not, it feels wrong. Like I’d be taking advantage of you.” Luke explained.

“Like I’d care if you did.” You rolled your eyes at him before ever so slowly moving to kiss his cheek, Luke let you at first but as you kept leaving soft kisses pressed against his jaw he had to try and regain his composure and gently push your head away. “That’s not good thinking sweet girl. I’d never forgive myself for taking advantage of you like this.” Luke shook his head like he was already disappointed in himself. “You wouldn’t be! T-Think of it as me taking advantage of you!” You suggested with a small excited look on your face.

“How would that even work?” Luke questioned quizzically as he furrowed his eyebrows at you, “Like.. I’d be taking advantage of what a good best friend you are, you’re always trying to make me happy and treat me nicely.. and you know, accepting my feelings would make me real happy.” You moved closer and gazed into his eyes longingly with want. “It’d make you happy now but what about in the morning?” Luke felt like he was slowly losing this non existent battle with you. But little did he know that he had lost the battle before it even started, because of course he’d give you whatever you wanted at the drop of a hat - why should this be any different?

“In the morning I’d probably feel.. like having swollen lips, and I’d probably feel pretty warm from having you curled up to me.” You answered “That’s not what I mean sweet girl and you know that. We kiss and I accept your feelings and then what happens tomorrow? What if you regret it all?” Luke was struggling to keep himself from immediately giving in to you, he already felt like kissing you just staring at your face like how he was. “If I regret it then we can pretend it didn’t happen. And if I don’t regret it? It happens again..” You felt like you were begging him at this point.

“Hm…. Fine. But you’re the one who begged me for this. Please, I hope you don’t regret asking for it.” Luke spoke that last sentence to himself even as he kept staring at you. Slowly, Luke began to close the gap between the two of you. You eagerly leaned in and closed your eyes, feeling his lips gently brush up against yours. His lips were soft and suddenly it was like this kiss had reawakened every positive thought you had about him right then and there, releasing all the feelings and desires for him. You kissed him back, beginning to move your lips against his.

Luke did the same thing, your lips moving together in sync as you both kissed. Luke felt slightly guilty but he also felt relieved to be able to finally do something like this, the pressure that was resting on his chest had been lifted off of it. Luke moved one of his hands to caress your hair affectionately, the other hand gently grasping your waist. You felt better than ever, your arms moving to wrap around his neck loosely. The way Luke was kissing you was so gentle and sweet, it wasn’t like how you’d fantasised but you still found it really nice!

Your drunken self took a little more action, keeping the kiss gentle and sweet but making a move to switch things up just a little. You parted your lips slightly, darting your pink tongue out just past your lips to attempt to enter his mouth. Luke caught on and quickly had to have an internal conversation with himself on wether or not he should let you, but then found himself wondering why in the world he wouldn’t let his best friend get what she wants, what she deserves. He let your tongue inside his mouth, which made you let out a soft hum/moan of delight.

It made you feel hot already, your tongue finally exploring the inside of his mouth; It felt lewd, it felt good. Luke could taste the faint taste of alcohol which made him a little irked at first, but he then relaxed as he tasted the aftertaste of some fruity flavour your alcohol was mixed with. Luke slowly moved his tongue against yours as you guys kissed, tongues not fighting for dominance but instead just playing with each other. You leaned forward to try and move your body closer to him, which made your tongue slightly slide further into his mouth which caused him to let out a quiet moan.

You would’ve teased him about it if your own mouth wasn’t occupied. You moved your hands again, one moving to grab his hair gently and the other hand moving to rest on his hip as you both moved to sit up a little more on the bed. Luke then slowly moved his own hands off of you before grabbing at your hips and tugging you forward, your weight landing in his lap. Your head felt spinny and you felt very giddy as he placed you in his lap, your knees on either side of him. You guys eventually broke away from the kiss, drawing a soft whine from you.

“Be patient sweet girl, ‘both need time to breathe..” Luke chuckled softly to himself at your reaction to him pulling away, both of you taking a breather for a moment. Your eyes blinked in confusion when you felt something weird, like there was something pulsing underneath you or something. Your eyes drifted down to look at where you were sitting in his lap, your jaw opening just a little to elicit a soft gasp from your lips. You could tell he was hard, and what you’d felt before was him twitching.

Luke rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly now, glancing away a little flusteredly as his cheeks became pink. “Sorry about that, can’t control it.. it- it’ll go away on its own don’t worry about that.” Luke looked embarrassed as he said that, making you wanna kiss him again. “What if I don’t want it to?” You asked him with a sly grin, a playful tone to your voice. “Huh? What do you mean, what’re you gonna-“ Luke clenched his teeth and shut his mouth when he felt your hips grind against him.

His head fell back slowly as he felt your fronts pressing against each other’s, “Y-You don’t have to- we really shouldn’t-“ Luke tried to speak. It was mainly distinguishable except for the few moans and groans that interrupted it. You kept moving slowly against him until his hands on your hips gripped tighter and he made you pause your actions. “Huh?” You asked with a dumb look on your face, ‘Was I not allowed to do that?’ Your face now looked a little guilty.

“Sweet girl, I thought we wouldn’t be doing anything you’d be regretting tomorrow?” He asked and you shook your head “W-We are! I won’t regret this, please just let me-“ He cut you off this time. “-Hold on. Hold on. I- Is that you I’m feeling?” Luke asked after taking a quick sharp breath, you confusedly looked down at where he was looking and grew a little embarrassed. You’d worn a skirt to the party, and right now he could feel the panties under your skirt becoming soaked by the minute.

“S-Sorry!! J-Just wan’ you..” You gave a guilty look, pouting your lips and feeling kinda embarrassed. Luke stayed silent for a moment which made you feel worse, until his hands on your hips guided you to grind back down on him again. “I can tell you need this.. and who am I to deprive you of your needs?” Luke sighed as he gave in yet again, his own needs being met too now. Your eyes fluttered shut and you struggled not to make loud high pitched moans, but you tried your best and instead was little out heaps of soft breathy moans instead.

“You’re so pretty in my lap.. should’ve had you here a long time ago, huh, sweet girl?” Luke asked you with a slight playful tone, you could tell he was teasing you. You wanted to say something smart but your drunk brain just wanted to nod “Y-Yes.. Would’ve loved to sit in your lap Luke..” You admitted shamelessly. “I would’ve felt guilty having you sit in my lap though.. Because I know I’d get hard and I couldn’t be thinking perverted things of my best friend like that.” Luke kissed your jaw.

Kisses were peppered along your jawline, making your head tilt back. “I would’ve loved it.. Would’ve acted all stupid and clueless so I’d have an excuse to rub up against you..” You giggled as you confessed “I’m not dumb sweetheart, I would’ve noticed that right away.” Luke chuckled “Mm.. would you have done anything to stop me?” You tilted your head at him “…Maybe not.” Luke shrugged before kissing your lips again.

While kissing together your hands found their way down to the end of Luke’s shirt, creeping their way up underneath. Luke paused your movements for a moment, pulling away from the kiss and making you confused for a second. He then slid his shirt up over his head and threw it to the ground, you then felt giddy and excited as you saw his exposed torso and chest. “So pretty..” You mumbled to yourself drunkly before moving your head to kiss his collarbone, making Luke take a sharp inhale. You weren’t thinking much when you made your movements, only taking what you wanted.

Your hands touched over his muscles, caressing his abs with your gentle hands. “You’re killing meeee…” Luke drew his words out, giving a small smirk as his own hands rubbed gently at your hips. “Mm.. ‘love you..” You replied and kept touching him, exploring him like you’ve been wanting to do for a long time now. Months, maybe even years now, and you were finally getting what you wanted. Of course, you could’ve easily asked him earlier but you weren’t confident enough to do it.

You stopped your hands after touching him for a minute, remembering that you should take your top off too. You quickly and eagerly pulled the fabric over your head and dropped it off the side of the bed, sitting there on his lap with this big dumb smile on your face. “..Wow.” Luke’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of your barely covered chest, his hands moving to grasp at your pudgy breasts inside your bra. “Have you been wanting to touch them as badly as I’ve been wanting you to?” You asked him with a glimmer of hope on your face.

“Of course I have. They’re so pretty.. all for me?” Luke asked you with a smug look on his face, of course you nodded your pretty little head. There was no point in lying when he already knew the truth. Luke moved his hands off of your covered breasts and unclipped your bra so that they’d be free “Is this still okay?” He asked you afterwards. “Yep!!” You nodded again, taking his hands in yours and placing them back over your now naked breasts. As you watched him fondle you your eyes glanced down at his veiny arms, his hands were veiny too, it made your heart flutter.

“Your hands are so…” You got lost in your own thoughts, just as Luke did when he was finally touching you. Luke’s fingers curiously pinched your nipples for a moment which made you whine, after this he decided to curiously bend his neck down and place one into his mouth. You didn’t stop him, you didn’t want to. You sat there like a pretty little doll for him on his lap and let him explore his thoughts, his mouth sucking and tugging on your nipple appreciatively. “I-if you keep sucking them you’re gonna leave a hickey!” You pouted your lips, yet you enjoyed the attention he was giving you.

“I don’t think that’s possible sweetheart.. but even if it was, would you complain?” He looked up at you through his half lidded eyes, wanting to hear your words. If you said yes he’d pull off immediately, yet you bashfully shook your head and said no. “That’s what I thought.” Luke chuckled quietly before moving to your other breast, sucking on the other one a little more harsher and drawing out a soft moan from you. Your fingers found themselves in his hair, grasping his head a little to keep him where he was.

When you had enough of him abusing your nipples you let go and he got the idea to pull off, moving back and staring down at you in his lap again. “You sure you still want me to do this sweet girl?” He asked you, caressing your face in his hand. You leaned into his touch and nodded your head “Yes, please?” You asked him. Luke sighed and then smiled down at you, moving his hand from your cheek to ruffle your hair “Anything for my girl.” Luke answered. He couldn’t say no to you, you were his favourite girl.

Luke pulled your skirt and underwear down at the same time, and you lifted yourself off of his lap to let him pull them off of you. He threw your skirt onto the floor and held your underwear in his hand for a moment, admiring the wet spot in the middle that covered your crotch. “D-Don’t look at that..” You whined in embarrassment, moving shyly to try and take them from his hands. Luke lifted his arm up so you wouldn��t be able to grab them, his taller height putting you at a disadvantage. “Am I embarrassing you sweet girl?” He chuckled to himself “Y-Yes.” You huffed with pink cheeks, pouting at him and furrowing your eyebrows.

“You’re so cute.” Luke chuckled again as he admired your reaction “But sweetheart, I’m not trying to embarrass you. Promise. I’m just simply admiring this mess you’ve made for me..” Luke reassured you, slowly putting the pair into the pocket of his pants. “H-Hey are you taking those?!” You asked him flusteredly, “I am. That a problem? I’ll give them back if it is.” Luke asked you and tilted his head. You huffed and sat back before saying “..No..” and giving him this coy look.

“I’ll take good care of them.. Actually, I shouldn’t make false claims like that. When you get them back they’ll be more ruined than when I got them.” Luke admitted before kissing your jaw softly and then pulling away, you would’ve made some comment but you shut yourself up as Luke slowly began to undo his pants. He moved you off of his lap for a moment so he could take them off, placing them carefully on the floor so that his prize he got off of you wouldn’t fall out of his pocket.

Luke then pulled down his underwear, letting his already hardened cock spring up to life. Your eyes watched it hungrily, your tongue darting to lick your lips as they suddenly felt dry. “You’re staring sweetheart.” He snickered at you before joining you back onto the bed, crawling on top of you and pushing you down gently so your back hit the blankets beneath you. You felt pretty flustered but you wanted to go through with this for sure, it was everything you could’ve wanted. “S-Sorry Lukeeeee… you look BIG.” You commented softly, your drunken mind speaking your thoughts out loud.

“You still wanna do thi-“ you cut him off “Yes, I do! Do you?” You asked him and pouted your lips a little, you’d hoped he wouldn’t say no but you wouldn’t force him if he did. Luke smiled down at you “Of course I do.” He answered and kissed your lips again before pulling back. Luke moved one of his arms that were beside your head, his hand creeping down between your legs. You felt shy being so exposed but the alcohol in your system kept you from hiding away, Luke’s fingers slowly and curiously dipped between your thighs to gently touch your clit.

It was more like a poke at first as he started exploring you, but then he started to gently rub at your soft bundle of nerves and it made you squeal. “A-ah..” You whined as he began to touch you down there, you were pretty sensitive at times and you’d guessed that right now it was one of those times. Luke smirked down at you appreciatively, his fingers continuing to rub at your clit to get you extra wet for him. Your hips grinded up against his hand, shuddering for a moment or two. “F-Feels good..” you whimpered “Looks like it does.” Luke responded.

“D-Don’t tease me!” You huffed a little, Luke only chuckled and shook his head at you “I wouldn’t think of doing such a thing sweet girl.” The way he looked down at you gave you butterflies. Your legs unwillingly parted a little more on their own, spreading yourself out even more for him. Luke could see everything now and he felt like he was getting the best show of his life, his fingers slowly moved from your clit and he began to drag his hand down between your slick covered folds.

You stared at him with anticipation, your chest moving up and down as you breathed heavily. Luke pushed a finger inside and felt no resistance, snickering to himself quietly before pushing in another. This time there was a slight resistance but it didn’t cause you any pain or discomfort, you were wet with slick covering your entire pussy so of course it wouldn’t be too hard for his fingers to find their way inside. “A-Ah’ Lukeeee..” You bit on your bottom lip as you felt his fingers inside of you, waiting for them to move or do SOMETHING.

“You’re so wet sweet girl, all for me..” Luke admired the way your pussy clenched around his fingers, he began to move his hand slowly. His fingers curled, pushing in and out of you ever so slowly. He didn’t mean to tease you and make you whine, he just wanted to make sure you’d be prepared, but as soon as your pretty lips went and said “Luke! Please, just- move them faster.. please?” You begged, he stopped playing around and listened to you. He’d never wanna make you beg for something, you were his girl, he’d never do that to you.

His fingers began to move faster now, his fingers making this flicking motion inside of you as he dug his fingers inside even further. It felt good, it made you start to squirm and moan on the bed, which drove Luke absolutely crazy. The sounds of your moaning and the squelching of your pussy around his fingers made his own cock begin to twitch and leak with precum, dripping onto his own thigh. Luke kept fingering your hole though to open you up, “Could I slip in another finger or would that be too much?” He asked you with a sweet voice.

“P-Put it in..” You answered. Luke hummed and let a third finger push into your tiny hole, stretching you out more for when it was time for his aching cock to enter you. His movements didn’t stop, he kept finger fucking you with three fingers now which definitely stretched you out. Luke could feel your pussy inside opening up even more for him and that’s when he asked “Could I enter you now sweet girl? That still alright?” He looked down at you as he asked. “Y-Yes please!!” You reached out for him and beckoned him to come closer and fuck you.

Luke withdrew his fingers from your hole, leaving you twitching and leaking as he reached for his own cock. He stroked himself for a moment before slowly lining himself up with you, pushing the head of his cock in slowly. “A-ah..” You groaned and clenched your teeth “Is it too much? Need me to pull out?” He asked worriedly but you shook your head “No! P-Please. It feels good.. J-Just- keep going..” You gulped. Luke noticed now that you weren’t moaning from pain and he was happy to listen to your request.

He kept slowly pushing in, inch by inch he filled you up. He was halfway through when he noticed this dazed look in your eyes “You alright sweet girl?” He asked and tapped your cheek with his hand to get your attention, you giggled and nodded your head “R-Really good. It feels good. A-Are you in?” You asked a little bashfully. “I’m halfway in sweetheart, Is it too much for you?” He asked “No!! Y-You just feel big.. and good.. keep going” you encouraged him.

Luke hummed and listened, pushing in even more until he filled you up fully. You were squirming now even though he hadn’t moved, “My stomach hurts.. but it feels so good! P-Please move now, please fuck me..” You threw your head back against the sheets. Luke listened and began to move inside of you, setting a slow pace at first to get you used to how his cock felt rubbing up against you. Of course it didn’t take long for you to get needy though and start to buck your hips back up against him.

“No need for that sweetheart. You want me to go faster or harder and you just tell me. You don’t need to work for it.” Luke reassured you and grabbed your hips a little roughly so you’d stop moving them. Luke then set the pace to be faster, slamming his hips against you and fucking you hard like you’d been wanting for as long as you could think. “YES! Ah!~” You felt yourself being folded in half by him, he moved closer and threw your legs over his shoulders so he could pound you even deeper.

Luke let out a guttural groan as he was fucking you, unable to keep his own sounds inside. It felt too good for the both of you to stay quiet, but at least you didn’t share a cabin with anyone. Your arms moved to cling to Luke, pulling him down slightly closer to you so that you could hug his neck. You would’ve pulled him closer but your legs could only bend so far. You could feel Luke drilling your cunt, pressing up against your cervix and making this aching feeling in your stomach— but despite that it felt like heaven on earth.

“It feels so good! Lukeeee, I love you!!~” You moaned out, you looked like you were absolutely fucked out at this point. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your legs were twitching, and you knew by tomorrow that your hips would feel awful but you couldn’t worry about that right now. Not with his incessant fucking into your tight hole. Luke admired the way you looked, your blissful face looked like how he’d imagined whenever he’d touch himself to the thought of you. He kept moving his hips with perfect stamina, moving on of his hands to dip back between your legs.

His cock kept hitting this perfect part inside your pussy which was making you feel real good, he then added a bit more stimulation to your pussy by rubbing at your clit up and down with his thumb. It was a little overstimulating and before you could say anything you ended up cumming, your pussy clenching around him and twitching inside. Your whole body shook for a moment as you were cumming, and Luke watched with delight as he watched your orgasm unfold.

Luke had fucked you through your orgasm but when you stopped shaking he paused his movements, about to pull out when you stopped him. You were a little tired looking now, trying to catch your breath as you spoke “B-But you haven’t came yet..” You felt guilty “I know, but I don’t wanna overstimulate you sweet girl.” Luke looked at you with worry as he didn’t wanna hurt you. “F-Fuck it.. I’m a strong girl, keep doing it.. please?” Luke couldn’t help but listen to you, if that’s what you wanted then that’s what you were gonna get.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” Luke warned you once.

Once, before he then moved his hips again. He was going faster now as he stopped worrying about your orgasm, now drilling himself into your cunt to try and get himself to cum. You were of course shaking from this, it was definitely a lot for your pussy to handle, but you’d be strong for him. It’s not like it felt bad either, because it felt really good! Luke kept fucking your hips for a moment or two, relentless and carefree with the pace he was setting.

“I- I’m gonna cum.. where do you want me to cum sweetheart?” He asked you quickly, knowing he had to pull out and cum somewhere. “I dunnoooooo… my thighs?” You suggested and let go of his neck so he could move away. Luke pulled back away from you, sitting up between your legs. Luke stopped fucking you and quickly pulled out of your hole, making you whine a little before he then let his load out onto your thighs, some of it dripping down towards your cunt anyways.

Luke used his hand to push it away, looking down at you lovingly after he’d finished cumming all over your thighs. “I love you so much.. did that feel good? Was that okay?” He asked you to make sure you were alright “Y-Yes.. it felt SO good! Thank you Luke, I love youuuuuu.” You giggled and pulled him back down onto the bed beside you to cuddle up to him.

“Be careful sweetheart you’ve still got my cum on you.” Luke warned, rubbing your back gently as you cuddled up to him. “How about we go for a shower, yeah? I think everyone’s gone to bed now, and whoever isn’t is still partying so we should be just fine.” Luke suggested and you gave a tired nod. Luke scooped you up bridal style in his arms and grabbed two towels for each of you, putting them on you guys before leaving your cabin.

He was right, when the both of you entered the boys shower room there was no one else there. You two quickly showered, Luke had to help you stand up and he even kindly cleaned you even though you said you didn’t need any help. After the shower he took you guys back both to your cabin, dried and dressed you both, and then joined you to go to sleep. “Mm.. Aren’t you worried about getting caught in here?” You asked tiredly “Nah, we’ll be alright sweet girl. Just go to sleep.” Luke murmured as he held you close and kissed your forehead.

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader smut #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x reader smut #Luke Castellan x reader #luke castellan #Charlie bushnell smut #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell x you #Charlie bushnell x reader smut

[wri0thesley]

SO glad someone else is in the "Just the tip" hole, so here I am like a little kid, cupping my hands for any spare thoughts (preferrably anyone besides Sampo), if you have any to share? 🤲🖤

loni i was going to write a post anyway but being able to reply to asks with my thoughts - proof that there is Demand (tm!) makes me feel SO much better about the brainrot!!! i have many thoughts abt sampo too so i am eagerly awaiting ur drabble, just the tip is really a concept of all time!

ft: gepard, welt, himeko, serval, jing yuan, luocha cw: reader is afab with no pronouns used. public sex (luocha), straps, sex toys (himeko and serval), a little size kink (jing yuan), a little soft dom (welt). not sfw, minors dni.

Gepard doesn't quite realise how big he is. He's not got all that much experience; he's never really thought about it, far too busy with all of the responsibilities that come hand in hand with being Captain of the Silvermane Guards. So when your eyes widen and your fingers can't quite meet when you wrap them around his length, he lets out a ragged breath and a moan and pushes his cock between your thighs. You have to breathlessly curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and whisper out his name. He's already on the edge just by being close to you. The silky softness of your thighs, the inviting shine of your lips and the way that arousal makes your eyes blow dark and wide - when you whisper softly into his ear; "I don't know if I can take it, Gepard . . . J-just the tip, alright? Go slow--", he worries that he's about to embarrass himself right there and then and come before he's even gotten inside of you.

You whine and whimper as he slowly pushes you open, your wetness smearing all over the ruddy head of his cock. Your fingers tighten in his hair even as a soft strangled noise falls from Gepard's own mouth and he struggles to not ram himself inside of you - you have no idea how good you feel. How hot and tight and wet and perfect the embrace of your walls clinging to him is, even on just the head of his cock.

But he did not get where he is by not having self-control. His muscular arms, corded with scars from practise battles and real battles alike, cage you in on the bed beneath him. He looks at you like someone who cannot believe how lucky he is.

"I'll wait here," he promises you, his voice lust-soaked and cracking with the effort. "As long as you need me to."

Welt sees how your lip trembles, how you take in a slow, steadying breath, and he cannot help his desire to take care of you a little. To coddle you and fuss over you, to make the most of the age and experience that he has and you do not. So he smiles at you, crow's feet crinkling the edges of his eyes behind his glasses, and traces the pout of your bottom lip with his thumb. His voice is patient and soft when he speaks to you.

"I'll go slowly," he tells you, as he gently slaps his cock against your wet folds where you sit on his desk before him, animation sketches and research papers pushed to one side in favour of the tempting treat that is your body. He has spent so much of his time working - nobody could blame him for taking a break and finding himself again in the silky tightness of someone younger and prettier than he himself is. "Just the tip first."

"Alright, Mr Yang," you breathe to him, your hands locking about his neck, urging him forward. You sigh as the head nudges your clit, as his precome mingles with your own slick arousal. You're a sensitive mess already - Welt is certainly not the kind of man who'd leave a partner unsatisfied, and his fingers and his tongue have already learnt every petal-soft fold of you, every spot that makes you shiver and whimper until you'd had to bite into his shoulder to stop your cries waking up every other crew member of the Express.

Slowly, slowly, carefully, he eases into you. Watches with rapt attention every movement of your body; the stretch of your cunt as it accepts him, until your hips are wriggling and squirming and you're tugging on his shoulders.

"Mr Yang," you're saying to him, your lip trembling, your shoulders racked with gasps. A whine leaks into your tone as he rests the head of his cock inside of you, enjoying the feel of it. Your sex pulses around the modicum of his length inside of you, fluttering, waiting to be fully claimed. "It's -- it's not enough!"

Welt laughs softly and presses a kiss on the top of your head that is almost paternal in its comfort - a reminder that he's old enough to be your father, your grandfather--

His voice is soft with just a hint of admonishment in it.

"You're really going to have to learn some patience."

Himeko has you wrapped around her little finger, but that doesn't mean that you don't eye the toy that she shows you with a little trepidation. She laughs at you when you do, pulling you into her, kissing you with the taste of coffee on her tongue as she talks you into her bed.

"If you're frightened of it," she's saying, even as your mouth is going dry as you watch her disrobe, "We'll go as slow as you need, darling. We'll start with just the tip."

You lose the ability to speak at the sight of her, auburn curls tumbling down her back and over the milky pale spill of her breasts and shoulders. Bathed in the starlight from her cabin window, she's unearthly, and your entire body sings out with desire for her. She smiles when she sees you looking.

"Always such a flatterer," she teases affectionately, as she wraps the toy carefully around the curve of her hips. It looks just as striking on her as everything else does. "Now, you just lie back. I've done this before. Let Himeko handle it, hmm?"

You're helpless to a command from the beautiful navigator, and you let yourself fall back on the pillows as she walks towards you with all of the elegance of somebody who knows exactly how lovely she is. She gives you a soft smile, her golden eyes gentle in the light, even as she gathers herself onto her knees and her fingers lightly dance over your bare skin. Electric pinpricks of desire radiate from every touch.

"Aren't you beautiful?" She muses to herself, as she wraps her hand around the toy and pumps it a few times - when it comes away, you see there's something thick and clear and viscous dripping from it. She laughs softly again when she sees you looking.

"You're already wet," she whispers to you, in a low, musical voice. "But if you're still nervous . . . well, there's nothing wrong with a little help, is there?"

Her fingers dance over your skin. She knows every part of you intimately by now; the spot on your stomach, the way you whimper when she pinches your nipples, the place on your hips that makes you breathe in a deep sigh and your own lashes flutter. Through her touches, she keeps murmuring soft platitudes to you - how pretty you look like this, for her. What a precious treasure you are. How she can't wait for you to come apart--

And by the time she is sliding the tip of the toy inside of you and you are fair dizzy with want, you can do nothing but whisper out her name. She leaves the tip of the toy inside of you, smiling down, as patient and beautiful and dazzling as ever.

"I told you," she murmurs, as her long fingers return to pluck and play with your nipples, and you get used to the new stretch of having something thicker than Himeko's fingers inside of you. "We'll go as slow as you need. Any new territory worth exploring is worth doing . . ." She leans down, her mouth full and soft and wet as it meets yours and you whine into it. "Thoroughly."

Serval is a tease. You'd known she was up to something the moment you'd stepped into the workshop and she'd flipped the sign to 'closed' with a feline grin on her face as she'd beckoned you over to her and told you she could really use your help with some new gadget she was tinkering with.

So now, as she has you bent over her workbench with something vibrating pressed in the valley between the folds of your sex, the tip pressed just so - buzzing and tingling - against the swollen pearl of your clit, it's all you can do to keep your fingers tight around the edge of the workbench and your knees locked so you don't collapse.

"Kitten," Serval is purring, her hips slowly rocking back and forth, the phallic toy strapped to her hips rubbing through the wet mess of your cunt. "Don't you like it? I made it thinking of you!"

Your words come out garbled, a mess of moans and sighs. Your own hips thrust back when she pulls away, trying to get her to keep the toy pressed against your clit for long enough for you to get off. Instead, she just laughs, nipping at your bare shoulder.

"You're getting desperate," she teases you, her voice deep and throaty and satisfied. "Beg me, kitten, and we'll see what I can do for you."

"Serval--" Your voice comes out a whine. "Please . . ."

Her clever fingers, calloused palms, slide down your bare skin, leaving electric zaps wherever they touch you. You shudder under her practised touch - you are an instrument, and Serval has already proved she is a master musician.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely," she says to you, and you sense the wicked cat-like grin on her mouth. "How about I give you just the tip?"

"Not enough--"

"You're getting greedy!" The buzzing toy slides a scant inch inside of you without the smallest hint of resistance; you're wet enough from the teasing already. You can feel your own arousal dripping down your thighs, and Serval sighs happily as she dips one of her fingers between your thighs to toy with your clit as the tip of the toy rests inside of you.

"You're lucky you're so cute," she whispers to you. Her finger slides back and forth over your clit, drawing delicate circles - she always knows how to use them. "Come for me on the tip, and I'll fuck you with the rest of it too."

Jing Yuan's patience has long been mistaken for occasional laziness; but you know better than most that there is nothing of the kind, when it comes to him. And there is certainly nothing of the kind when it comes to trysts like this.

Oh, you and he have gotten used to rushing moments when you can, in between him being needed for meetings and work - but now? In the evening, loose ends tied up, with nothing but one another to spend the night on?

This is a tryst that will last.

Jing Yuan is not lazy - he merely likes to take his time. For a man whose being is tied up in his past warfare, he knows how to handle delicate things like you - but that doesn't mean he's going to rush it. Not when you look so pretty laid out like this for him, clothes rumpled and discarded beneath you, looking up at him with your eyes all soft and wanting and your mouth aching to be kissed.

He hums beneath his breath as he lets his mouth learn the shape of yours; pushes you gently back when you try and kiss deeply into him, to make him hurry up. His cock nudges against your inner thigh and he sighs a slow, indolent sigh of pleasure that makes your heart beat double time in your chest.

"We have all of the time in the world, little bird," he tells you, with an insouciant smile on his face. Your face scrunches, an adorable expression of impatience taking over your features, and he smiles down at you like someone looking at the finest treasure in the world.

"Impatient," he chides you, but there's nothing but warmth in his tone when it comes to you. His hands find your thighs, digging into the soft skin as he parts them. Warm eyes like pools of molten gold find your core, and he sighs as he looks at you. You squirm under his gaze, and as he softly leans down and lets some of his own saliva drip onto your cunt, you whimper at the feel. "This is impatient, too," He says to you, and laughs. "Drooling all over the place. Mm. Is that how much it wants me?"

"I want you," you respond to him, mouth petulant. Jing Yuan shakes his head fondly at you but readjusts himself, hand around his cock to guide it to your sex. He taps the thick head softly against your clit until you squirm, pouting. "Jing Yuan--"

"Ah, I know, I know," he looks down at where the two of you are not yet joined. "I'm always reminded how . . . small you are, when I look down at you like this."

"It will fit," you insist to him, and he raises one eyebrow.

"Oh, I know it will," he tells you, still smiling at you. "But it's a tight one, isn't it?"

"Jing Yuan, you're stalling--!"

He laughs again.

"Ha. My apologies, little bird." Slowly, he guides his cock to your opening - resting it against there, just for a moment. Exactly as he said, he seems so much bigger than you - his tip thick and blunt and rounded, your entrance small even as your hole pulses and oozes slick in preparation for him. "I simply like looking at you."

"There's something you'd like more than just looking," you encourage him, and he shakes his head so that his mane of hair falls over his shoulders.

"You're incorrigible," he tells you - and then he is pushing forth into you, and your mind goes white of anything but the feel of Jing Yuan inside of you, his cock, your cunt, where they meld together and you become one--

Wait.

Why has he stopped?

"Jing Yuan--!"

He swallows your cry of his name with a kiss that is anything but lazy, tongue exploring your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip until you're dizzy with it all. He tastes, just a little, like sweets.

He pulls back just enough to look at you half-lidded, the tip of his cock just stretching you out.

"I'm merely taking my time," he tells you. "Whilst I have it."

Luocha is mean, you think, even as his words remain unfailingly genteel. Even as his face remains a polite mask, he leaves his cock not-quite inside of you as you tremble against the wall he has you bodily pressed up against.

"Please," you breathe out to him, teary-eyed, lip trembling. "Y-you can't just leave it there--"

He cocks one eyebrow, his face unfairly pretty - unfairly unruffled, even with the tip of his cock buried in you. He's unfailingly still - almost as if the hot tightness of your cunt pulsing around him has no effect on him whatsoever. One long, elegant hand curves around your cheek as a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

He's big. You can't help but squirm against the concrete, your cunt wrapped around only the head of his cock but feeling like you've taken far, far more.

"We're in public," he says to you, voice just a little condescending. "If I were to go about this more . . . vigorously, surely you wouldn't want the attention of every person in the vicinity on you?"

Your own need feels like a thrum inside of you. It's hard to think, as Luocha moves his hips the barest fraction and you find yourself whining aloud. Firmly, he moves the hand on your cheek so that it's pressed over your mouth, muffling your noises.

"You can't take more than this," he tells you, voice calm and patient. "Not here. Not now."

You whimper into his gloved palm, tears beading in your eyes like little diamonds. Even that doesn't seem to move him, though he tips his head to one side, vaguely considering. He moves his hand just enough for you to take a breath, and whisper beseechingly;

"I-if not here . . . will you do it somewhere else?"

He laughs only one soft, musical little noise. He leans in close, his breath cool against your neck.

"Mm . . . but when you ask like that--"

You cry out as he pushes another inch of himself into you, eyes widening as the noise breaks the calm, cool air. Luocha pauses.

"Oh dear," he says. "I suppose we'll have to both come quickly then, hmm?"

#hsr smut #hsr x reader #writing #not sfw text #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x smut #so much tagging to do.... #gepard x reader #himeko x reader #welt x reader #luocha x reader #jing yuan x reader #serval x reader #hsr posting

[ddejavvu]

mei! can you write a little hangman trying to corral and take care of his drunk gf?? im a lil tipsy rn and thinking abt it

tw for mentions of getting sick

"Bradshaw," Jake taps his fellow aviator on the shoulder, two beers in hand, "Where's my girlfriend?"

"Phoenix took her to the bathroom," Bradley informs Jake, "She was feeling a little queasy, I think."

"Shit," Jake groans, shoving both beers into Bob's unsuspecting hands. The WSO blinks bewilderedly, but passes the drinks to Fanboy and Payback when they invite him over to the dartboard.

Jake shoulders his way through the crowd, beelining for the women's restroom and slapping a hand over his eyes before pushing the door open.

"I'm not trying to see anything," He calls out, standing in the doorway, "I just want to know if my girlfriend is in here."

He hears a distressed groan from you to his left, and Phoenix calls out, "It's just us, Hangman. You can come in and open your eyes."

He does as instructed, finding you crouched on the floor inside the third stall. Phoenix is behind you, your hair gathered back into her hands as you hover expectantly over the toilet.

"Nothing yet," Phoenix fills your boyfriend in, "I think it's less about the booze and more about the bottomless fries."

"Gotcha," Jake nudges her away to take her place, swooping your hair up again when it falls over your face, "You've been snackin, huh baby?"

"I didn't eat that many," You swear, but Jake knows practically any amount of the bar's greasy french fries can be vomit-inducing, "I want- I need water."

"I got it," Phoenix heads for the door, "Don't let her eat any more, Hangman!"

Jake's confused until you reach for your purse and retract a napkin stuffed with fries.

"Hey- hey! No," He takes them before you can eat any of them, chucking the handful into the toilet to deter you, "Baby, what are you doing? Those made you sick."

"But they're so good," You lament, "Jake, they've got the garlic salt on 'em, and- and I want more!"

"But they're too greasy for you to handle right now," He smooths a hand down your back, "Baby, you can't eat those when you've been drinkin', that's why we're in here. You can have some on Friday night, m'kay? You can be DD."

"I'm not even sick anymore," You grumble, all of a sudden struggling to your feet. Jake backs out of the stall so that you can stand, but your drunk mind seems to envision a velcro patch covering Jake's chest, and you stick your own matching one to it to throw your arms around his neck.

"I want food," You inform Jake, and he leans in to kiss you despite your beer-breath, "I want something big, and- and greasy, and meaty, and-"

"How about pancakes?" Jake offers, ringing his hands around your waist in case you decide you're going to lean your full weight on him, "We can head to Denny's, it'll only be a five minute drive."

"Do they put garlic salt in their pancakes?" You wonder, gazing at Jake like he's a prophet. He's not, but he thinks he knows the answer anyway.

"Uh," He chuckles slightly, glancing at the door when Phoenix returns, a glass of water in her hands, "I don't think so, darlin'. Here, drink that," He pats your back, releasing his hold on you so that you can take the cup from Phoenix, "All of it, honey, then we'll head for Denny's. Okay?"

"Mhm," You nod around the rim of the glass, the sound echoing slightly as you gulp down the water.

"Takin' her for pancakes," Jake locks eyes with Phoenix, "I'm gonna go get her purse, can you supervise?"

"Hurry up," She nods towards the door, "Fanboy's a nosy drunk, I'm pretty sure he already rooted through her stuff and found a tampon."

"Christ almighty," Jake scoffs, storming out while you chug down the rest of the water in your glass. He does, in fact, find Fanboy seated by your purse, inspecting a plastic-wrapped tampon with bewildered eyes.

"It comes out of the plastic, dipshit," Jake demonstrates, popping the applicator off and stuffing it back on after they've gotten a good look, "Phoenix was right, you are nosy. You wanna inspect her lipstick, too?"

"Oh please, we see that all the time." Rooster drawls, yanking at Jake's collar and revealing a deep pink kiss mark against the base of his neck. The pilot grins beneath his mustache, collecting the coins from your wallet that Fanboy had counted to occupy himself and handing them off to Jake, "Just be lucky he didn't go through your wallet, Hangman, he would have found those nudes you keep in there."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

[ranhaitanisgf]

3:45 a.m - ran haitani [gn]

masterlist

you think that your heart managed to actually stop beating when you open your eyes and see ran staring right back at you. his face is mere centimeters away from yours, his murky violet eyes seeming to be analyzing your face as you jump in shock, letting out a small curse.

"ran, you scared me! why're you up right now...?" you asked, drowsiness still trying to pull you back to sleep. "it's super late, you should be sleeping..."

"i couldn't stop looking at you."

"hah?" you blurted, your brain still too tired to be flustered. ran chuckled a bit at your response, (his slightly raspy voice from sleeping was far more attractive than you could ever handle) and pulled you closer, gently pressing his lips against your temple.

"nothin', go back to sleep."

"mm, is something wrong though?" you asked, tucking yourself closer to his body, (you couldn't help the fact that you were still woefully tired and just a little bit cold). "you love to sleep."

"hm, i'd say it's the opposite, sweets." he murmured, smoothing his hand over the crown of your head. "didn't wanna stop looking at you, my perfect (y/n)."

"gah, stop it...it's so late i don't even know how to respond to that..." you mumbled, shifting your face to hide in his chest. you could feel the vibrations of his laugh in his chest as you buried your face in embarrassment, his long hair tickling your cheeks a bit. "don't laugh at me, you're the one acting weird..."

"sorry sorry~ you're just too cute, i can't help myself." he gently pulled you away from his frame, his eyes finding yours and giving you a soft smile, (it was rare that there wasn't any traces of snarkiness).

"what..." you murmured, feeling as though you were under some kind of scrutiny under his gaze. you could never quite tell what he was thinking, and this was especially true in the dark cover of night when the lack of light in the room shaded his eyes in such a way that you couldn't read them at all.

"'m so lucky to have you. i think god made some kinda mistake giving you to me, but i'm not gonna let anybody try and take you."

"i don't think anybody's gonna try and do that, ran."

"quite the contrary. i think that there are many people who would want to take you as their prize." you rolled your eyes at his words, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair.

"well i'm not planning on being anybody else's 'prize' or whatever...only yours." ran's eyes slowly closed as you cupped his cheek with your hand, his head unconsciously leaning into your touch.

"mm...that's good to hear." he whispered, relishing in your touch for a few moments longer. "all mine..."

"mhm. why don't we go back to sleep now?"

"m'kay..." you giggled a bit at the drowsiness that seemed be suddenly hitting ran, his eyes staying closed as he once again pulled you closer to him, his lanky arms wrapping around you and making sure that you were as close to him as you could be. "...love you..."

"love you more."

"not possible."

"definitely possible."

"i love you more. now go to sleep."

"no, i-mmph!" your words were cut off by ran's lips pressing against yours, his fingers tilting your chin up and effectively shutting you up, (he was so tired, yet he still had energy to do that?).

"go to sleep, (y/n)."

"this isn't over, ran."

"mm, okay~"

a/n: a little drabble b/c i feel bad abt not completing any reqs :( i hope you all enjoyed :3

#˗ˏˋ𖤐 tokyo revengers ˎˊ˗ #˗ˏˋ𖤐 ran haitani ˎˊ˗ #tokyo revengers x reader #tok rev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader fluff #fluff #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #haitani ran #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader fluff #x reader #reader #reader insert #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

[misserabella]

Hey so could u write smth where reader is about to shower but like has a breakdown abt feeling insecure of her body and Ellie comforts her, could be smutty if u want! (Pls include stretch marks as an insecurity bc I've been feeling so insecure abt mine lately and I have them everywhere😭 my hips, thighs, stomach, boobs even!)

a/n; okay but think about how soft and reassuring she’ll be…

perfectly imperfect

ellie williams x insecure reader

cw; a lil of angst, crying, insecurity about weight and body, fluff, kisses and ellie being the best girlfriend ever.

you felt tears swell in your eyes as you stared at your reflection. you hated what you saw, the fat that enveloped your body under skin, how it was scarred with stretch marks around your hips, belly and tits…

you bit down on your lip, feeling the knot on your stomach tighten. how could anyone find you attractive like this?

tears were falling down your cheeks when the door to your apartment swung open, ellie stepping in with recently bought groceries.

“babe?” she called out for you as she left them on the counter of the kitchen, not finding you anywhere before she heard the soft sobs coming from the bathroom. scared, in case you’d gotten hurt, she hurried to open the door, finding you completely naked and with reddish puffy eyes. “baby? what’s wrong?” she inquired, a frown of worry showing on her beautiful features. you cried against her chest, her arms carefully surrounding your body as if you were the most pressure thing she had ever touched —‘cause you were—. she shushed you, stroking you back. “talk to me pretty girl, you know i hate it when you cry.”

“i’m so ugly els, i hate myself.” her frown deepened.

“what are you talking about doll, you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.” you shook your head, her hands cupping your face, thumbs drying away your tears.

“i’m fat, and have stretch marks everywhere. how can you love me? there are so many beautiful girls out there… i’m just waiting for you to realize that and leave…” she hushed you, cutting you off.

“baby. i love you. and your body is beautiful. i love it. i love your little rolls and your beautiful stretch marks. they don’t change the way you look for me. you’re intelligent. and hot, and gorgeous and i couldn’t have wished for a better girlfriend.” she kissed your cheeks. “and i’m not gonna leave you. ever. you know that.” she pecked your lips.

“you promise?” you voice was broken, a thin line.

“i promise.” she nodded. “i can’t wait to love you ‘till the day i die. and if i have to remind you how beautiful you are every day i’ll do it. you’re perfect. look at you.” she turned you around so you could watch yourself, her hands caressing your sides. “so pretty and perfect for me…” she kissed your shoulder. “i love everything about you. you drive me crazy.” you smiled, leaning against her chest as she softly kissed your head. “want me to show you?” you looked into her emerald eyes, shining with determination. after you nodded she smiled. “come on.” she took of her own shirt. “let’s get in the shower, hm?”

ellie spent the whole afternoon taking care of you; after having washed your body with her own hands —kissing you every inch of your skin and praising you for how beautiful and breathtaking you were— and took care of your hair she had kissed every inch of your body and over your stretch marks, making your favorite meal and buying you your favorite treats, watching your favorite movie, doing face masks, brushing your hair, cuddling you to sleep…

and every few minutes she’d repeat: ‘you’re perfect. i love you.’

and then, every time you’d look at yourself you could hear it. and you’d say. “i’m perfect. i love me.”

‘cause you were perfect just the way you were.

#ellie the last of us #ellie #tlou ellie #ellie tlou #ellie x you #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams angst

[rrxnjun]

blondes are done with fun ✲ h. renjun

pairing. journalism student! renjun x journalism student! fem! reader starring. huang renjun, lee donghyuck, yoo jimin, huh yunjin genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. angst, fluff, smut warnings. alcohol consuption, swearing, renjun is a dick at the beginning, sexual content (fingering, unprotected sex) word count. 31k (31.320) a/n. awsten knight please stop making music so i can stop writing fics about your songs thanku. also this is my first smut please be gentle with it also if you're my friend please don't read the smut parts orif you do dont tell me abt it or i will literally kms

playlist. cherry red - waterparks ; fake happy - paramore ; heaven angel - the driver era ; blonde - waterparks ; disaster - conan gray ; raspberry - grouplove ; black butterflies and déjá vu - the maine ; fuck about it - waterpakrs, blackbear ; robbers - the 1975

a rumor has it that the popular couple in town broke up after years of being together. having to share your favorite seat in class with the male part of said relationship, you try to find out how to make your heartbroken project partner warm up to you— or— huang renjun goes blonde when he's sad.

✲ PART 1 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

“A rumor has it Huang Renjun and Huh Yunjin broke up,” is the first sentence that lands into your ears when your feet cross the imaginary border of the school premises one early morning, a cup of coffee in your hand as your best friend Jimin breaks the news to you, walking by your side into the university building.

Snapping your head around to look at her in shock and surprise at the news, eyes wide in question, you’re already invested in the love life of your classmates more than you probably should be, but due to multiple reasons that could explain it; one of them being the ordinary human curiosity– mainly created in your brain thanks to the fact that these two had dated for as long as you can remember– another reason being the gossip-oriented side of your personality– the part of it you like to explain through the fact that you’re a Journalism major and the love for gossip is just another part of your (hopefully) future occupation– and the last reason, the one that is probably the most harmless of them all (or maybe the most, depending on how you look at it) is the mere fact that while Huang Renjun had been a taken man for as long as you remember, he is also insanely attractive, and you’re just a simple woman. The idea of him being finally attainable is irking something in your brain, and even though you would feel embarrassed to admit this out loud, you can’t help but wonder what happened between those two after such a long time that made the legendary couple– iconic, even– break up. 

“What happened?” you ask, walking alongside the girl as you round the corner of the hall, in a rush to get to your morning class. The two of you slept in by accident, watching too many episodes of Keeping up with the Kardashians last night to notice the clock striking well past midnight, and now the journey to school was more difficult than it already is, with your dorms situated 30 minutes away and the class starting at 8 o’clock sharp. The time is now 7:58AM and while you’re already in the building and yours and Jimin’s classes are different, they are both on the fifth floor– and with the frequency of your visits to the gym, the way up there is hard not only because of the time pinch, but also because of the shortness of your breath when you rush to walk up there in less than five minutes before you have to take the walk of shame to your desk, watched by the professor with passive aggressive eyes.

“Nobody knows,” Jimin heaves out, taking two steps at once now, “I just heard from Yizhuo that Yunjin deleted all of their Instagram posts together and she supposedly stopped wearing that necklace he got her for their anniversary. Oh and also, Renjun didn’t drop her off at school on Friday, so something must be up.”

Humming in agreement, you rush up the stairs, the halls already emptied out because all of the students are hidden in their respective classroom. You manage to keep your voice down in case anyone’s listening in on your insensitive gossip, now that your voices aren’t drowned out by any other noise. “That’s weird. They’ve been together for so long, I’m starting to lose faith in real love if they really broke up.”

“No, yeah, I know,” Jimin squints as the two of you finally reach the fifth floor, the girl checking the time on her wristwatch huffing out at the sight of already being late, “something bad must have happened, if they really broke up, because the two of them didn’t seem like they’ve had any problems, you know.”

“Definitely,” you nod, pacing along the hall as you finally reach the door to your classroom, waving your roommate off with a tight-lipped smile, still trying to catch your breath. “I’ll see you after class?”

The girl doesn’t even turn around as she agrees with you, long legs striding down the hall into the last classroom on the left, waving at you with her right hand. “See ya!”

Silently opening the door to the classroom, you notice the professor already standing at the very front of the class, turning around to look at your figure once the almost unhearable noise of the door cuts through the silence in the room. Offering her a shameful smile, you hurriedly scan the space, feeling the eyes of everyone glued to your sweaty and out of breath body, as you try to find a place to sit. Your usual seat is right at the corner of the room, at the very back– it has the window in close accessibility, so you don’t have to worry about being too hot or too cold, depending on the weather, because you regulate the freshness of the air in the classroom. The window also provides a good distraction to you once the class gets too boring to listen to, so you’d say with 100% sureness that the desk you chose to sit at the very first day of your Journalism class was the best option. 

However, when you look at the usually empty desk for two– one of the chairs, the one closer to the corridor being your handy armrest as well as a place to put your coat and bag on as you sit on the other one, the one closer to the window– you notice a man sitting at your usual place, eyes glued to the whiteboard. Feverishly scanning the classroom once again, realizing in terror that there is no other empty space for you to sit at, you sigh in annoyance as you near your usual desk, cursing the intruder in your brain for breaking the unwritten seating plan. 

Taking the bag off your shoulder, you softly land it to the ground, afraid of making any noise that would interrupt your professor’s lecture again. After sitting at the chair and trying to listen to the words coming out of your professor’s mouth, trying to see what she’s talking about, you find yourself drifting off into the mess of your thoughts, choosing to daydream about the amazing lunch you’re about to have once your classes are over for the day, your eyes knowingly moving away from the whiteboard to their place out of the window. It’s a little harder to gaze out of it in the different position– you tell yourself you’ll come earlier next week so the intruder doesn’t take away your spot again and you can go back to your usual plan of watching people walking through the campus and making up fake stories about them in your brain– when your periphery vision takes notice of the side profile of your seatmate, the curve of his nose and the slight pout of his upper lip sparking interest in you as your brain finally connects the dots.

Only slightly moving your head to the side, so your seatmate doesn’t notice you staring, you observe Huang Renjun sitting at your desk. The image in front of you (or beside you, to be precise) surprises you to an extent nothing has ever surprised you before (no, not even the birthday parties Jimin has thrown you have made this effect on you– but that’s probably because she can’t keep a secret and always spoiled the surprise), and once again, there are multiple reasons for your surprise. To list a few, you’d start with the fact that Huang Renjun almost always sat at the same desk with his girlfriend Yunjin– the desk was at the very opposite corner of the room, leaving you to occasionally observe the couple as he landed a hand onto her thigh or let her put her leg into his lap, away from the eyes of the professor– but due to the news that were broken to you just a few minutes prior, maybe this is the only reason that shouldn’t surprise you with the sight of Renjun sitting by your side. Continuing the list, you’d state the fact that the boy looks lifeless– his eyes lost their usual spark and there are dark circles adorning his lower eyelids, the sick look making you feel almost sorry for your classmate. And to finish the list, you’d state the fact that takes you by surprise the most– the one that shocks you to your core, for it’s the reason why you didn’t recognise the boy when you first sat down in the first place. His hair is now bleach blond, and while the look definitely suits him, it’s something different, something new– because for as long as you can remember, not many things changed in Renjun’s appearance over the years, and you’re not so sure if you can consider this as the side effect of his breakup, or if he really just wanted change.

Blinking at the male, as if to make sure that you’re not dreaming, you take notice of the dead strands falling into his eyes, contrasting well with the darkness of his eyes. Once again noting that you’re just a simple woman and Huang Renjun is simply put, a very attractive man, you can’t help but gaze at him with a newly found interest, everything you’ve learned about the male this morning irking you with undeniable curiosity.

The sad and embarrassing reality of it all is, though, that you’re not the only one who gets that weird feeling of someone staring at you in public sometimes, only for that feeling to be true as you turn around and see someone with their eyes burning through your skull; Huang Renjun gets them as well, it seems, as he turns his head to you with his eyebrows furrowed, as if to silently ask you why the hell you’re creepily staring at his side profile in the middle of your Journalism class. The two of you were never close, despite sharing multiple classes over the course of multiple semesters, and so being caught only made you feel more embarrassed as you sharply turn your head towards the front of the classroom– so much for being subtle and nonchalant about it, erasing all the possibility of playing it off in the process– feeling heat creeping up your neck. 

This is not how you imagined your morning to go.

Trying hard to pay attention to the class instead, in order to both learn something and also forget about the events happening only a few seconds prior, there’s no use as your brain now decided to replay the moment over and over again, making sure you never forget about it and randomly think of it in the middle of the night 5 years from now, still not moving on from the shame. In the process of trying so hard to focus, you actually do quite the opposite– as if your brain decided to turn off from the essence of humiliation instead to protect you– and before you notice it, the class is over and everyone is scattering out of the classroom with their things and bags hung over their shoulders. At least it’s finally over, you think, when a voice lands into your ear, shaking you out of it.

“We’re doing the project together,” he says, and as you turn around to face the owner of the saccharine voice to inquire him on what the actual fuck he’s even talking about, before you get the chance, the man is already out of the room, leaving you standing in full dumbfoundance.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to the class, after all.

Next week, even though you arrive to class earlier than the last, it seems like your designated seat in the corner of the classroom is now your and Renjun’s designated seat in the corner of the classroom, and if you’re being totally honest, this is exactly the thing you did not expect to come up on your Junior year bingo card. Talking over the whole interaction with Jimin right when you got to dorms– alongside with the takeout you ordered in the restaurant that’s at the corner of the street– the both of you stared into your plates with a newly found sense of absolute, utter confusion. 

You also had to shamefully text one of the only classmates from your Journalism class whose number you have– Osaki Shotaro, who you had a thing with in Freshman year because you thought he was an exchange student and would go back to Japan after summer, surprising you with his smiley face in the class in your Sophomore year (and this year, once again) as you had to be reminded of making out with him at a party every time your eyes landed on the poor boy– about the assignment. The truth is, you could just ask Renjun when you got into class, but you also wanted to spare yourself the embarrassment of that action. Through your fling from Freshman year, you learned that you have to work in pairs on a magazine of some sort– and while the assignment still wasn’t clear to you, after Shotaro ended the text message with ‘i’m sorry tho, i already have a partner ://’, you didn’t have enough dignity in you to pry him for any more information.

Clearing your throat as you step inside the classroom with an encouraging slap to your bottom coming from your roommate walking along to her usual class at the end of the hall, you walk over to your seat and put your bag onto the ground, silently sitting on the chair next to the corridor– the thing that makes you the most furious about this whole thing– as you prepare for the next lecture. From what you’ve gathered, the assignment was 70% of your final grade, and you really didn’t feel like failing your most favorite subject, especially if it’s something you could see yourself doing in the future. Working on something like this with someone you’ve hardly ever spoken to was a scary feeling, though. 

The class starts as soon as the noise of footsteps fills your ears, your professor standing at the very front of the classroom announcing her arrival with a heartfelt smile on her face. Sometimes you wonder if it’s her cheery demeanor that makes you like the class so much, but then again, you’ve always been interested in the topic– her character is just a bonus.

“Hello class,” she greets, full of energy despite it only being 8 in the morning, “I decided that instead of following with the lectures today, I will leave you some space to plan out your final project for the class. It has the weight of 70% of your grade, so it’s kind of important, so make sure you plan it well and come up with something original and interesting. The contents are 25-35 pages and you have until the end of the semester to complete it, so I hope you all put in some effort!”

Nods and hums of understatement are shared along the class, the pairs turning to each other in soft murmurs as some even take out a journal to note down all the things they come up with. You think it’s not a bad idea to at least brainstorm a little, but with how awkward you feel at the moment with your project partner sitting right next to you, you don’t think you can start. And the thing is, Jimin told you you could just pick a different partner– but as you look across the filled classroom, you really don’t think working with anyone else is possible, since you don’t have many friends in this class and everyone seems to be paired up already. Huang Renjun is your only choice, and although it doesn’t fill you with relief, you wonder why he chose you, when in reality, he’s the popular one– he has many different choices to pick from. Maybe he was just too lazy to ask anyone else. Who knows.

Clearing your throat again, you avert your gaze from the front of the classroom and try to sneak a look on your seatmate. The platinum blonde hair neatly styled on his head doesn’t fail to make you shocked again, but you figure you must start to get used to it now, because you can’t keep living with the constant urge to stare at the boy just because he dyed his hair. Waiting for him to look at you or give you any sign of the fact that he’s willing to work on the project, you continue your little staring contest with his side profile– it seems like he’s in the mood to ignore you today, so you gotta bring out the big guns and actually talk to him instead.

“So… how do you want to work on this?” you mumble out, nervously bumping your knee up and down. Human interaction isn’t your favorite thing in the world, mainly because you don’t like things you’re not good at– this includes sports, but mainly volleyball, drawing, knitting and mixing drinks as well– but you’d say with full confidence that making friends and talking to new people is truly the worst thing you could ever imagine. 

You notice that your seatmate finally recognised your efforts to spark up a conversation– he rewards you with a shrug of his shoulders as he not only does not look at you, but also decides to lay on the desk instead, closing his eyes as if this was the perfect time for him to catch up on his lost sleep. “Dunno,” he says, “we have plenty of time, let’s not do this right now.”

Blinking a few times at the male, you are once again struck by lightning that is his weird attitude to things. If this was how he behaved with Yunjin, you can’t blame the girl for breaking up with him– everything about the smug look on his face and the fact that he chose to take your favorite seat in the classroom makes your blood boil with annoyance. 

“W-what?” you stutter out, still not quite believing your ears. 

The man doesn’t reply to you– it’s too much effort, it seems– only making you angrier. Why did he even choose you as his partner if he didn’t want to work on the project in the first place? You’re no stranger to procrastination and leaving work for last minute, and you’re also not really a fan of the feeling of stress creeping up your back whenever you give in to the inevitable action of procrastinating; so if it comes to a project that is quite literally 70% of your grade, you would rather not do everything the week before.

Seeing that you’re getting ignored again, you put on your brave face as you fold your hands on your chest, determined to do something about the issue at hand. “Can’t you just put in some effort, man? I’d rather not do this last minute. I know that you probably don’t give a shit, but I do care about my grades, y’know,” you get out, seeing as the man next to you finally straightens his back and looks at you sharply– as if he has any right to point you with the killing look in this dark eyes– before he squints in mock agony.

“Do you really have to be such a fucking perfectionist?” he snaps at you, taking you by surprise. 

This is not how you imagined Huang Renjun to be. Looking at him over the course of the years, more often than not, you always saw the boy with a welcoming smile on his face. Whenever he was around Yunjin, he was all sweet words and gentle touches, erupting laughter whenever he was around his friends. When you were a freshman, somewhere in the back of your brain, you even envied the circle of friends he had around him, daydreaming about fitting in with them when you were lonely at lunch break. That was before you met Jimin at volleyball practice– the extracurricular you lasted in only for a week with the intention of making some friends (at least it worked) – and moved in with her in your second semester when both of your roommates decided to drop out. The girl provided you with undeniable love and care, and while you no longer desired to fit into a circle like Huang Renjun’s, talking to him now makes you feel like a child with crushed dreams.

“I’m sorry?” is all you get out as you stare at him with shock. If you were in a better mood, you would’ve searched through your brain to find a snarky remark to bite back at the boy. It’s too early in the morning and you weren’t prepared for his attitude, though, so you only opt to stare at him as he sighs in what you presume is annoyance– or defeat– as he scatters through his backpack and takes you a notebook, opening it to the first page and clicking his pen he found somewhere in the depths of his bag so he can write with it.

Too taken aback from his sudden change of mind, you wait for him to initiate any other action. You really don’t feel like getting screamed at again, so you chose to play it safe as you watch the man scribble the words Final project at the very top of the paper, underlining it two times and circling it five, the weird ritual making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“25 pages. We split half and half, so you can come up with whatever you want. We can do the design together and I really couldn’t give less shit about who works on the cover, so if you really want to do it, you can. Good?” he says, not once looking at you as he writes the words down on the paper. 

“Amazing,” you bite back with irony, shuffling your chair closer to the table so you can take a look at his notes, “the magazine has to have a coherent theme, though, doesn’t it? If we work on the pages by ourselves and just do whatever, as you said, it’s gonna be shit.”

You chose to accommodate yourself to the pattern of his speech– a habit you always do with new people, but in this situation, what feels the most safe. Seeing the man sigh again, twirling the ballpoint pen in between his fingers, he shrugs at your point and offers you a half-assed solution.

“We can figure that out later.”

Biting back a chuckle at his comment, it’s now your turn to sigh. Why was he being so difficult? Is it really that hard to make an effort on something important, especially when he was the one who said he wanted to work with you in the first place? Shaking your head in disbelief at his actions, you lean back in your chair and take out your own notebook, set on the decision of brainstorming as much as you can, hopefully coming out with some solid ideas you could incorporate in the magazine.

You have no idea what direction Renjun would go with. You don’t know anything about his interests or hobbies, and you surely don’t know what would inspire him or what he would want to write about. And with his new change of persona, you find him even more unreadable than he’s been in the past– and you can’t say you like the way he treats you right now. It seems like his sudden metamorphosis managed to change his brain synapses as well, because this is not the idea of Huang Renjun that you knew until now.

Chewing on the end of your pencil, you take a glimpse of your seatmate. He is messily scribbling something down onto his paper, seemingly realizing that the sooner you start working on this, the better, and with how full his paper seems to be, you wonder if this project won’t be that hard to complete after all.

“We’re doing the cover together,” you mumble out, seeing as the boy tears his eyes off his paper, glaring at you instead.

Almost expecting him to snap at you again, awaiting his suggestion that you will be the one doing all the work, you’re left with an answer that satisfies you with yet another surprise. “If you really insist…”

“Are you really sure you want to do this right now?” Jimin asks you as you put on your shoes at the door, slinging your backpack containing not only your laptop and notebooks, but also snacks just in case you get hungry. Looking at her through the hair falling into your face that you efficiently get out of the way with a poof of breath coming out of your mouth, you chuckle at her distress. The girl’s been watching you get ready for the last 15 minutes, with her robe on and bowl of guacamole in her right palm, eating up on the tortilla chips every once in a while as she squints at you with disbelief.

“Yeah, why not?” you shrug. “If he’s initiating this, I don’t see a problem. Besides, I think that if I don’t take every chance I get, I’ll end up working on the project alone, and I really don’t like that idea.”

Humming in agreement for the first time since you told your roommate that Renjun texted you if you wanted to work on the project today, Jimin motions to the phone sitting at the entryway table next to the front door. “Well, just make sure to text me if anything goes wrong and I’ll come pick you up,” she suggests, making you giggle at her noticeable worry. 

“Okay, mum,” you shake your head in disbelief, finally slugging the backpack over your shoulder and walking out of the door of your apartment. 

The truth is, you can’t really blame Jimin for her over-protective behavior. Ever since you retold her everything that happened that one time in Journalism class, she’s been wary of Huang Renjun. You would agree with all of her arguments of how much of a dick he is when acting like that, but you also don’t really think you have to put more energy into hating him at this moment, since it won’t really help you with your assignment and you don’t have any other choice. You are stuck with a grumpy project partner and that’s how the rest of your semester will go– you just have to learn how to live with his annoying remarks and snarky comments at whatever you say. Who knows, he may be in his ‘hating all women’ era, considering the breakup and all…

You can’t say you weren’t surprised when he added you on Instagram and messaged you about the project this afternoon, though. Considering that you were always the one initiating the talks about the final assignment over the course of the last few weeks, you weren’t expecting him to finally be the one reaching out. You would be stupid to not take him up on the offer, since you don’t know if it will happen ever again– who knows, he might have accidentally smashed his head into something and get a sudden revelation that is only a one time type of situation– and that’s exactly why you responded to him almost immediately (to which you admittedly, got a bit of an ick from yourself) and agreed to meet him at 6 in his apartment.

You were pleasantly surprised to learn that his place was only a 15 minute walk away from yours when he texted you the address, and after a few more minutes of scrolling through his Instagram that was private– and therefore hidden away from your eyes until now– you set yourself on the difficult journey.

Upon arriving at the apartment building, ringing the door bell and texting him to let you in just in case, so he knows it’s you, you start to feel a bit nervous, though. The truth is, you don’t really know what you’re getting yourself into as you walk into the elevator and press the button that takes you to the fourth floor– as he texted you the moment the door to the complex opened– and you think it’s safe to imagine you could be running out of that apartment at any given moment. Maybe Jimin was right and you should’ve taken at least some self-defense tools with you. You never know these days.

Once the elevator door opens and you step outside of the small space, you get prepared to take out your phone again to text him and ask which door leads to his apartment– the right or left– when you’re surprised with the sight of Huang Renjun already waiting for you in the doorway, loose sweatpants, messy hair and all, expecting your arrival.

Clearing your throat, you tightly smile at the male. “Hello.”

“Hi,” is all he responds as he moves away from the door and disappears into the apartment, seemingly thinking you're going to follow him and get inside, no questions asked. You expected at least an invitation to his premises, even a wave of his hand would be nice, you think, but you guess you can’t really have expectations that high when it comes to men– especially if the man in question is the insufferable Huang Renjun.

Taking your shoes off at the entrance– because even though your host doesn’t have good manners, you still do– the figure of Huang Renjun suddenly appears in the doorway of one of the rooms, watching you put the sneakers into a corner that seems to be designated for footwear. Looking up at him with expecting eyes, he finally breaks the awkward silence as he takes a step inside one of the rooms, calling you to go after him.

“We can work here, I guess,” he mumbles, leading you into what you presume is a living room connected to a kitchen– the place is not that big, but you are a broke university student too, so you don’t have it in you to judge. The place is surprisingly clean and adorned with multiple plants all around the corners of the room and windowsills, the only thing out of place being some dishes at the kitchen counter, waiting to be either used or put away, since they look washed. There’s a sofa in the shape of an L in the middle of it all, a TV sitting right opposite of it on a small TV stand, and when you notice an opened laptop on the coffee table, you presume that this is your work station for the day. You half expected him to invite you to his bedroom, but you guess that you can’t really complain– this feels much less awkward anyway. 

Nodding at his words, you move to the sofa and rest your backpack against the foot of it. Taking out your laptop as well, you sit crossed-legged at the soft cushions as you watch Renjun walk over to the kitchen side of the room, opening up a cupboard and taking out two glasses, bringing them to the crowded coffee table alongside with a bottle of soda. You think this is his way of welcoming you in as your guest, but you don’t have it in yourself to thank him– he’s the one being silent all the time anyway. You won’t put effort unless he does.

The boy silently takes a seat opposite of you, but chooses the carpeted floor instead of the sofa– a sight that almost makes you chuckle in amusement when he struggles to fold his legs in the small space– sighing and bringing the laptop closer to himself, rubbing a palm across his face in presumed tiredness. 

“Did you work on the ideas for the articles?” you ask, voice low, as if you were afraid to speak first, now that you’re in his space. “If they’re too different from mine, we can make like… sections… in the magazine… or something like that. But I think it would be easier if they correlated, you know.”

Renjun hums, not giving you many words this time either. He’s always difficult to work with, but today, it irritates you twice as much– maybe because you’ve gone out of your way to meet him at his apartment, when it was all his idea to work on the project today in the first place. Sighing in disappointment, the boy takes it as a hint that you expect more of him than tired hums and silent nods, and so he opens his mouth to speak, soft voice echoing through the silent apartment.

“I did,” he says, “don’t really know what you’re going for, but I have a short list.”

Satisfied with his answer, you nod. “Can I see it?”

Shrugging, he looks around for a while, eyes searching through the place as he finally finds the paper peeking out from the bottom of the coffee table– so much for the seemingly clean space– and offers the A4 format to you, scribbles in blue ink almost unreadable as you squint onto them, bringing them closer to your face. Once your eyes finally get adjusted to his handwriting, you manage to decipher a few of the words he’s written down; some of his ideas are neatly described, yet, some of them are just a simple word that barely gives you any idea of what he truly meant to say.

The difference between more thought-out ideas like ‘Karaoke songs (history, questionnaire of favorites across the campus…)’, ‘The importance of art in education’, ‘How to really use wikipedia’ and simple words like ‘campus’, ‘festivals’ and ‘soccer(?)’ almost makes you laugh out loud, but you note that the boy actually took the time of his day to work on the project like he promised you he would the last time you spoke about it in class, so you can’t really say anything mean to him, for you truly think it would hurt his pride. Nodding as you finish reading over the list, you offer the paper back to him, noticing him watching you with eyes full of undeniable expectancy.

“Satisfied?” he asks, irony seeping through his voice. 

Rolling your eyes at him– because of course he has to be annoying about everything– you choose to not play by his rules, opting to nod instead and let the tiniest bit of irritation show only through your ironic smile as you reply to him. “Very, actually.”

Seeing as he’s satisfied with himself, you choose to continue to lead this meeting with the same energy as to this moment. You think it’s the safest choice, and it’s also what he seems to be comfortable with, so you don’t beat around the bush and speak up again. “I think it won’t be that hard to combine our lists, since our ideas aren’t that different,” you note, cringing at the suggestion that you and the man in front of you actually kind of think alike, “but I think it would be nice if we chose a few topics and wrote about them together. I bet the professor would like to see some articles written by the both of us, so it shows that we actually worked on it together, don’t you think?”

“Not really,” he mumbles under his breath, taking you off guard. See, maybe you got ahead of yourself when you thought that this afternoon might go by smoothly– you forgot for a moment that Huang Renjun enjoys the idea of being a total ass to the people around him (or you, at least) these days. Huffing at his response, you furrow your brows in disbelief.

“Why not?”

“Just… don’t wanna,” he answers shortly, shrugging in nonchalance.

The sight of him in front of you, not even sharing eye contact as he points his gaze towards his laptop, makes your blood boil. What does he even think of himself? You were starting to think that Jimin was right– you should’ve rethought this interaction over and spared yourself the trouble, because this was surely not going anywhere.

“Look, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you were clearly the one that told me we were project partners, so I don’t know why you’re being so difficult about this-” you huff, but are instantly cut off by your partner.

“I’m being difficult?”

“Yes,” you jump in, “yes you are! And I don’t get why you even invited me over to work on this, when you clearly don’t have the slightest intention to do so in the first place!” you complete, almost ready to stand up from your place on the light-brown sofa and storm out of his apartment. 

He chuckles at your outburst, rolling his eyes. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not in the mood to work on a stupid project after arguing the whole day on the phone with my cheating ex-girlfriend,” he mutters.

The moment those words come out of his mouth, it seems like the already silent apartment gets even quieter. Staring at him in dumbfoundance, the spark that ignited the anger in you suddenly dies out as you ponder on your next actions. Because what does one do when your project partner suddenly overshares possibly one of the most traumatic and heartbreaking facts about himself so casually, in between snarky comments and a petty argument? Sure, you do feel sorry for him now– because no matter how shitty a person acts to you, nobody deserves to get cheated on– and you suddenly wonder if the whole change of atmosphere in his character isn’t the direct result of this very fact. 

You can’t tell him that you’re sorry– because frankly, you know that Huang Renjun doesn’t want your pity. He doesn’t want to hear that you feel sorry for him and what happened, because you’re not friends and you’re not close enough for you to express such feelings towards him. A question arises in the very same essence, though, making you wonder why he even chose to share this information with you in the heat of the moment in the first place, and even though you could excuse his lack of motivation to work on the project by this fact, it still doesn’t change the reality that he was the one initiating the whole thing, and suddenly, you feel confused. 

He invited you over to work on a project, even though his mood was shitty and he didn’t have the motivation to do so. One would find that ridiculous, but if you really look past the sharp eyes and the bleached mess on his head, you could see the true intention behind his actions– the poor boy just wanted a distraction. And with how empty his apartment seems to be right now– his roommate, Donghyuck (a person that Jimin shares a Finance class with, as you learned this very afternoon) is nowhere to be seen– you only bet you were the last option he had instead of wallowing himself in pity and terror. 

Jimin would argue that you’re stupid for your next actions– you would even agree, because this truly doesn’t feel like you– but still, despite going against yourself in a way, you close the laptop sitting in your lap and reach over to the soda he placed in the middle of the coffee table, pouring yourself a glass. You don’t leave his apartment like you fantasized of doing just a few minutes ago; instead, after downing the sickeningly sweet liquid, the bubbles hurting your throat, you rest your back against the sofa and watch the boy in a new light.

“Okay, let’s not work on the assignment, then,” you calmly say, “wanna watch something on Netflix instead?” you ask, seeing him staring at you with confusion in his expression.

“I don’t-”

“It’s okay if you don’t have it, I can log in with my roommate’s account. She’s probably watching Single’s Inferno right now, but I’ll text her to find something better to do instead,” you don’t let him finish his sentence– because you already know that he’d try to protest to your suggestion– shrugging in nonchalance as you reach over to the TV remote you find sandwiched between the sofa cushions.

Turning the TV on, not even sparing a glance to the grumpy-looking boy sitting on the floor opposite of you, the shuffling of clothes and socked-feet on the ground lands into your ears, a figure taking the remote out of your hand when you can’t figure out how the TV works, a low mumble full of fake offendance masking the shameful, yet clear gratitude in his voice.

You don’t miss it as you look over at him with a tight-lipped smile, though, seeing the Netflix app suddenly come up on the TV, his shoulders relaxing as he settles into the cushions of the sickeningly colored sofa. 

“Of course I have Netflix, what do you think I am, poor?” he grunts.

…and the old Renjun is back.

Arriving at class the next week, you’re finally met with less nervousness than the last few times. After interacting with Huang Renjun more and seeing him break his stone-cold demeanor in front of you as you two watched Netflix– he even made popcorn after the second episode of Unsolved mysteries you decided to watch when you saw the show in his ‘continue watching’ list and gushed about how it’s your favorite (to which he told you that you’re weird, but he’s the one binge watching it too, so you really don’t know why you’re the problem and he's not). Thankfully he doesn’t seem as smug and insufferable as he did before. It’s not like you’re suddenly best friends or anything, but you can feel the ice between you melting with every word he sends your way that isn’t laced with irony– not that there's many of them, since Huang Renjun loves his sarcasm– but it’s progress in your book.

Walking over to your usual seat in the classroom, making your backpack fall to the ground next to your desk with a soft thud, you sit at the chair and take out your things for the class when you notice something standing in the way of your notebook and pencil case in the middle of the table. 

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you move the cup of coffee out of your way, closer to your seatmate’s side. Sighing, you mumble under your breath. “Don’t you have enough space for your things on your side of the table?”

“That’s yours,” he deadpans. Gaze switching between the cup of iced americano from the coffee shop at the corner of the campus (you know it by the plastic cup with their logo on it– it's too tacky for your liking and you even gushed about it to Jimin the day the café opened) and the blonde boy next to you, confusion doesn’t seem to leave your insides as you let out an unfocused hum, showing him that you’re still not following. 

“Do you not like coffee or something?” he hisses, seemingly annoyed at your expression. If you saw yourself in the mirror, maybe you’d understand his frustration– your brows are furrowed and there's a crease in the middle of your forehead from how hard you're racking your brain to come up with answers– but now, you’re just in utter disbelief. Maybe you are a little slow– it’s only 8 in the morning, to your defense– but you really don’t remember bringing coffee to school today. Especially not an iced americano– you don’t like the bitter taste, opting to choose a sweeter drink like a caramel macchiato or the infamous pink drink that Jimin teased you for the last time you got it. So how did this strange cup of coffee end up on your table?

Looking around the space, noticing another half-empty cup of coffee on Renjun’s side of the table, the label on the plastic the same as the cup that was waiting on your side, you finally connect the dots. “Did you get that for me?”

“Yeah,” he nods, not even looking at you as he agrees, taking another sip of his coffee instead. 

Now, you do finally know where the strange cup of coffee came from. Why did Renjun buy you coffee in the first place, though, is still a mystery to you, but you guess with how he’s avoiding your gaze, eyes glued to the white board and an uninterested expression sitting on his face, you think it’s better to not ask him any other follow-up questions. He did something nice for you, and with how your thoughts and rationalization are the only clues you can use in figuring out the reason behind it, you wonder if this was his way of apologizing for being rude to you and thanking you for hanging out with him last week.

“Thanks,” you mumble out instead, smiling at his humming figure that barely acknowledges your spoken gratitude. Taking a sip of the drink, while trying really, really hard not to scowl at the bitter taste, you shift your focus on the class instead, taking notes from time to time. Drinking the coffee as if it was a disgustingly tasting medicine your mother forced you to take when you were little– you hated the taste, but had to get through it anyway– you eventually finish your iced americano somewhere in the middle of the lecture. You feel kind of proud of your acting skills, but there’s also an annoying voice somewhere in the back of your head asking you why you even forced yourself to get through that drink anyway and why is it that you didn’t want to hurt Renjun’s feelings by refusing it in the first place. 

But like anyone in your position would, you shush that voice out of your head.

“Did you finish watching the whole season last week?” you ask instead, suddenly interested in having a conversation with him. After you told Jimin about how your weird hang-out with Renjun went, she practically scolded you for not going home right after he let out the first snarky comment out of his mouth. And maybe she’s right and the whole thing you’re trying to do– but what are you even trying to do in the first place? – makes you seem like you’re out of your mind, but at the end of the day, you did finally progress in watching the TV show after putting it on hold for multiple months because your dear roommate wouldn’t stop begging you to watch all of the seasons of Too hot to handle with you instead, so it’s a win in your book.

“I didn’t,” he replies, his voice quiet enough only for you to hear, not interrupting the rest of the class, “Hyuck, my roommate, didn’t come home until like 11pm and I got too creeped out to watch it alone after you left,” he completes, his face completely serious as he utters out the laughable words.

Chuckling at his response, you see him crack a smile from the corner of your eye. The sight is a rather pleasant one, for you think you've  forgotten how it looks in what seems like ages since the obvious breakup with his girlfriend happened, the reminder of his squinted eyes and full cheeks making you feel accomplished, in a way. “Didn’t think you were the type to get scared so easily,” you tease him.

“Not scared,” he huffs out, offended, “just creeped out. That’s different.”

“Did you wait for your roommate because you were too scared to go to sleep?” you test the waters with more teasing, your tone light and playful.

“No, I waited for him because the last time he got home late and I was asleep, he came home drunk and broke down the door to his room and we had to get it replaced,” he announces, making you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand as you almost burst out into a loud giggle. 

“You know what? Yeah. Valid.”

Your conversation falls silent after that, and it makes your spirit fall for a split second. You don’t even know why you wanted it to continue– you don’t know your seatmate, and frankly, you shouldn’t have the desire to do so in the first place. But the sudden act of service thrown your way, although the coffee was disgusting and he could’ve presented the gift to you in a different, more welcoming way, made you get your hopes up– about what exactly, though? 

Jimin always told you that desperately wanting to be everyone’s friend (despite being socially awkward and kind of nervous around new people), is one of your best and worst qualities at the same time. Best, because it means that you’re nice to people– worst, because you’re nice even to people that don’t deserve your kindness; and you also get too disappointed when people don’t share the same enthusiasm with you. Maybe some friendships are meant to keep at surface level, and if this was the type of relationship you and your project partner are about to have, you’re going to have to let go of that annoying voice in your head that keeps telling you to get deeper than that level.

“Why did you dye your hair, by the way?” you ask him nonetheless, after a few heartbeats of silence, curiosity getting the best of you. The moment this question leaves your mouth, you regret it– thinking you somehow could’ve made the boy uncomfortable, your words annoying to his ears– but instead of rolling his eyes at you or telling you to shut up, he replies instead. The reaction surprises you– he really conditioned you to think that every question of yours is going to be met with spite and tantrum, didn't he?

“Dunno,” he says, shrugging, “they say blondes have more fun, so I think it’s only natural to go blonde when you’re sad. To cancel it out, or something,” he snickers as he looks at you, realizing the implication of his words makes the whole statement kind of embarrassing, his tight-lipped smile being the proof of his internal battle not to cringe at his explanation.

You understand, humming in acknowledgment. You’re just a simple woman, after all– you very well understand the urge to change your hair after a breakup. While it is a visible proof of his mental breakdown, you guess you can’t really blame him for trying to feel like there are things that are under his control; even if it’s just the color of his hair.

Walking along Renjun, the atmosphere is thick and a little awkward. Your bag is heavy on your back and you’re slowly starting to feel a bit of an ugly sting in your bones from it; you mourn the fact that you decided to ask Renjun to walk there with you instead of having to take the bus by yourself, too afraid of getting the address wrong and getting lost along the way. You’d love any kind of transport instead of your own two legs right now, since the walk seems to be never ending and you’re pretty certain that the backs of your feet have calluses from wearing your new shoes that you got from a clearance sale from the Nike store at the corner of the town. 

Clearing your throat, you decide to spark up a conversation. It seems like you always have to be the one to initiate things when it comes to Renjun– it’s kind of ironic, though, when you think of the fact that he was the one that made you be his project partner in the first place.“Why did you wanna do the article about the shelter? I didn’t know you were an animal person,” you hum, testing the waters with a casual question. 

Looking up at you, furrowing his brows, the man offers you an indifferent shrug. “My friend Taeyong works there and he wanted to advertise the shelter a little, so I offered to take pictures for his Facebook page in exchange for me writing the article about it,” he mumbles, “he thinks that would give the shelter more exposure too, but I doubt it. Nobody’s gonna read our fake magazine anyway, it’s just an assignment…”

Humming, you kick the rocks on the pavement, a tight-lipped smile appearing on your face. Huang Renjun must do a lot for his friends, you think. You remember him taking pictures for his friend Xiaoting once– she’s an influencer (a model, if you want) and well known around the campus. When you saw his instagram username in one of the picture descriptions one day, you were surprised at the quality of those shoots (and it also led you to stalking his instagram for a bit, but that’s not the main point of this conversation). You also remember seeing him with his friends Shotaro and Yangyang in a team when it was your school’s annual Sports day (you’d argue that you’re not high schoolers anymore and this day is useless, but your classmates seem to think otherwise) trying his best, despite not really liking sports in the first place– or so you heard and seen from how badly he did in most disciplines except from running– and if that’s not a sign of him doing everything he could just to make his friends happy, you don’t know what is. So to see him doing an article about the animal shelter Taeyong works at, despite being more of a plant person himself, you’re not as surprised as you thought you’d be. He does show affection to his friends, after all– you’re just not one of them to see that side of him often.

Walking some more, you eventually end up in front of a big building painted a light tangerine color, windows decorated with pretty curtains on full display to you. Renjun chimes in like a regular, crossing multiple halls and taking sharp turns before you’re met with the image of a taller man with dark brown hair putting small, pastel colored collars on necks of a few little creatures running around the room, despair clearly written on his face.

“No! Don’t run away, oh god-”

Chuckling at the view of yet another kitten running away from his hands, you admire the fluffy little cats crawling all around the place, your heart quickly softening at the sight of them. It’s been a while since you were around animals yourself– the dog you had back home died the summer before the semester started and you weren’t really in the mood to get a new one, since you weren’t going to be around much anyway. 

When yet another kitten escapes the man’s hold, you find yourself watching Renjun as he crouches to the floor and swiftly takes one into his hands, walking closer to the man with collars in his hands, grinning to himself. “Here you go.”

“Man, the cats hate me… where did you two get here?” he shakes his head in disbelief, putting a collar onto the small cat before he pets it on its tiny head.

“Just a minute ago,” Renjun says, “is that one Poppy?” he asks, reading the name tag dangling from the little band around its head, affection filling his words.

“Now it is. I got confused when they all started running around,” he shrugs, sighing as he looks around the room, counting the last few kittens that needed their collars. His eyes soon land on you, a welcoming smile spreading on his boxy lips. “Hey! I’m Taeyong. You must be Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smile, trying to make yourself seem as nice as possible. You don’t know what Renjun told him about you, but if they were bad things, you only hope to undeceive the man with your warm attitude. 

Renjun then puts the kitten down, and while you’d expect it to run away from him and join its siblings in the corner of the room, the creature does quite the opposite– it stays by his side and lays on the ground close to him, making even Taeyong himself gasp at the image. “Wow,” he snickers, “you should start coming here every time I need to put these on them, you’re like a cat whisperer.”

While the two of them chat, you stay a little behind, not really wanting to intrude. You take off the heavy bag and take out your camera, deciding to take a few pictures of the shelter instead, so you can say you worked on the interview with him. You think it’s expected of you, since he asked you to come along despite being absolutely fully capable of doing the interview with his friend alone, so you do your work and zoom in on the two of them talking, snapping a few quick pictures. 

After a while, you take a seat on the ground– being the infamous enjoyer of sitting on the hard surface of it, earning yourself a lot of scolding screams from your mother growing up– and fully take in the interior. The walls are the same light tangerine color as the outside ones, and there’s a little enclosure in the corner of the room that would surely make Taeyong’s job much easier if only he had used it. There are bags of cat food in the other corner of the room, and while the shelter doesn’t look very modern or fancy, you think it’s kinda homey and welcoming. You bet kids would love it here– with the colorful atmosphere and the smiley worker running around catching kittens, and after a while of taking pictures of everything your eyes land on, you find your inner child healing, little by little.

The truth is, you always wanted a cat. But you were never able to get one, because your mother hates them. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how many times you petted strays on the street and begged her to take them home, you never won this battle– so you had to settle on a dog. And don’t get me wrong, you loved your dog, but at the end of the day, you knew you were more of a cat person anyway.

Reaching forward a little, noticing the kitten waddling your way, you think of petting it– it quickly jumps out of your reach, though, too scared of your touch, and you’re left frowning, the bubble bursts at the rejection from the small ball of fluffiness.

“Taeyong?” you hear a voice of a woman call from the door, the man swiftly turning to her with brows raised in question. “They need your help with the big dogs. They keep dragging Yeri on the leash and she’s too weak to get them to their cages.”

“Oh,” the man deadpans, scratching his neck for a bit before he turns to Renjun again, escaping the room in one swift motion, “I’ll be right back!”

The room falls silent after that, no longer having the background noise of their conversation playing as you observe the animals. You feel the atmosphere growing thicker again, and as time passes by, you find yourself taking short glances at your project partner, wondering what’s on his mind. One moment, he’s crouching down and petting the cats that come his way, the other, he is gazing out of the window with a soft frown that takes over his features like a dark shadow, and you wonder when this expression really settled into his face and made itself the default, and why is it not willing to leave. Not really knowing what to say or what to do to make the boy that’s still so out of your reach feel any better, you opt for silence, even though it does get quite heavy and thick over time– and the truth is, you don’t even know why you notice yourself feeling this way so often around him, when all he’s done was give you the cold shoulder so often and then offer you an iced americano you don’t even like in the first place.

Minutes pass and the silence slowly makes your ears ring; you desperately try to find a good solution in your brain– create a script where hanging out with Renjun is easier and less nerve-wrecking– but still, there’s nothing and you’re left with the awkwardness and hesitance. Sighing when another kitten escapes your grasp, you put your hands into your lap and give up on the task, settling on just watching them instead– there was no use in you trying to pet one when all it wanted to do was run away from you.

Watching the group of fluff jumping at each other and sleeping all around the room, your focus only shifts when there’s a kitten suddenly thrusted into your point of view, its big blue eyes staring you down making you awe. You wonder how it got there in a moment of full stupidity before you look up and see your project partner, the cat magnet himself, holding the cat up to you, waiting for you to take it into your hold and pet it. Gazing at him with mouth agape in confusion, he slowly puts the cat into your lap, petting the creature when it settles, and takes a seat opposite of you all in the span of a few seconds, the action making you smile uncontrollably.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” he mumbles, watching as you pet the kitten in your lap, cooing at the soft fur. There’s a hint of you that desperately wants to adopt it once you finally pet the small cat, but you know that it wouldn’t be a smart idea– animals are banned at dorms and you don’t think you’d have enough energy to take care of another living creature right now anyways.

“They are,” you hum, “I always wanted one.”

“Why didn’t you get one, then?”

“My mum doesn’t like them very much,” you mumble, pouting at the small creature in your hold, as if to apologize for the words coming out of your mouth.

He hums in acknowledgement, picking up another kitten that waddles his way, putting it up on his thigh– his body now sitting cross-legged on the floor. Watching as the animal crawls up his body and tickles him with its claws, soft laughter erupts out of him, making you smile unconsciously at the boy. 

“I’m not really into animals that much,” he says, further proving your earlier claims. See– in some ways, Renjun is easy to read. Just by looking at him, you could tell he’s not a fan of sweet beverages; you can tell he enjoys black coffee– just like the one he brought you that day– and herbal teas, perfectly matching the image of him in your head that’s surrounded by plants rather than animals, just the bit of greenery you saw around the kitchen very clearly still alive and thriving making you believe you are correct in this assumption as well. One can say a lot about a person by the way they dress, and with Renjun’s casual, yet cozy attire, you can tell he dresses for himself, choosing comfort over style, but still looking effortlessly put together at the same time. You would never strike him as someone that makes spontaneous decisions, rather being more focused on a plan, so to see him dye his hair so randomly is a sign of the fact that there’s something crumbling inside of him– a sense of security, maybe a feeling of stableness– that he tries so hard to grasp. 

“They are into you, though,” you giggle when the kitten purrs at his touch, pointing at the cross-eyed creature. 

“What can I say,” he shrugs, “I guess I’m that irresistible.”

There aren’t many opportunities for you to laugh at his jokes. Mainly because he doesn’t make many, but also because you always notice them being self-deprecating, and you don’t want to support that idea in his head. At this one, though, you send him a soft chuckle and a roll your eyes, showing how you seemingly think the idea is ridiculous and his joke is corny, but deep inside knowing that you resonate with his words.

In a moment of selfishness– an indulgence you try to mask by the fact that you came here because of the assignment and this was your job in the first place– you take your camera and snap a picture of the boy in front of you, his hands holding the small kitten up in air and snickering when he sees you pointing the lens to him in order to capture him playing with the creature. You don’t know what it is that makes your heart warm up at the image that comes up on the screen shortly after, but you figure that’s a problem of future you and there’s no use in pondering about it now.

You don’t know how many minutes pass with just the two of you playing with the kittens, but when Renjun takes his phone out of his pocket and checks the time, you furrow your brows before he hums. “He’s taking so much time,” he says, sighing. 

All while playing with the fuzzy small balls, you didn’t even notice the time passing by so quickly. You don’t know how much time it’s been, but you assume it could be more than 35 minutes of the two of you left alone in the room, Taeyong seemingly too overwhelmed with the shelter responsibilities.

“Maybe we should go,” he offers, catching you off guard.

“Oh,” you hum, “well, maybe. But you haven’t even done an interview with him yet,” you mumble, your hands lost in the soft fur of the kitten still laying in your lap.

“I can just send him the questions to his email. Perhaps, I’m sure you’ve taken more than enough pictures of the kittens for his Facebook page,” he snickers, shrugging, “I don’t see why we should be staying here if he’s busy, we’re only putting more work on him.”

“I- I mean…” you mumble, trailing off at the end. You don’t really wanna say goodbye to the kittens, the healing in your heart not quite done yet, when the boy next to you laughs at what you presume is your emotions showing clearly on your face.

“Unless you wanna play with them more, of course. We can stay a little longer, then.”

The autumn season slowly fades into winter, time passing by quicker than you could even grasp. The shock and surprise of having to work on the lengthy project with Renjun morphs into a feeling of ordinarity, getting used to his mood slowly shifting from reserved and irritated to a one more pleasant, full of hesitant smiles and soft words when he notices you feeling down or disappointed with yourself, and a one more close to a brother-like teasing when he watches you arrive to his apartment to work on things. One would say you hit it off, your energies matching as you slowly get to know the boy, but still, there’s a hint of something inside of you that makes you grow nervous around him whenever he is too close to your figure, your body falling limp and your brain working on overdrive. You wonder if it’s the sheer fact of simply not being fully used to his presence; while Jimin says you’re down bad for the man. She’s wrong– or at least you’re convinced that she is– and that’s why you simply think the uncertain feeling of uneasiness that settles in your bones sometimes is the effect of the fact that you never truly know what to expect when you arrive at Renjun’s place.

Some days, when you arrive, there’s a mess waiting for you in the living room, where you usually work on the project with Renjun. There are pots and pans with dried food everywhere and your partner’s hands are foaming with washing liquid when he opens the door for you, and you giggle at the sight. Other days, the apartment is full of people you don’t know and Renjun has to throw them out with a scream saying that the group was supposed to leave two hours ago, and when you come on weekends, he lets you in wearing sweatpants and bed hair, as if he spent the whole day in his sheets. Dare you say, this is your favorite version of him– his eyes are half-lidded and he moves slowly, even his remarks aren’t as harsh as they tend to get. Jimin once argued and told you that you two don’t even need to meet that often for the sake of the project– and on a weekend as well– but you’d say it adds to the value of the magazine if you two can get opinions out of each other and review each other’s writing in real time. 

Some days, his roommate is home, and that’s when you join Renjun in his room so you two get a bit of privacy (not that you’re doing anything that requires privacy. His roommate Donghyuck is just very nosy and he keeps asking you questions you don’t have the time and energy to answer). 

Today is one of these days, with his energetic roommate roaming the halls of the apartment, but this time, you two don’t hide away in the comfort of Renjun’s small, yet very organized room. Sitting in the living room of his and Hyuck’s shared apartment, your bottom meeting the carpeted floor instead of the cushions of their couch, your laptop screen darkening when you don’t work on the device for some time and it puts itself to sleep mode. The reason for said action is your attention being somewhere completely else– on Donghyuck’s figure trailing in and out of the room, each time wearing a different outfit than before.

“What about this one, Y/N? Do I look good?” he asks, posing like a model that didn’t pass an audition in any modeling agency, their dream of flashing a smile on the title pages of Vogue fading out of their sight.

You burst out laughing at the weird combination. You don’t remember Donghyuck ever being bad at fashion from the few times you've met him before he left their apartment to attend a party or go to class– you’re quite certain that his habit to always tuck in his shirts into his skinny jeans, the stylistic choice showcasing his long legs making not one, but many girls, boys and others salivate over him. But when seeing him in a tragic combination of cowboy boots and a cow-print shirt, you can’t help but giggle.

“Hyuck, now you’re just taking the shit. That’s your Halloween costume from last year,” the boy next to you on the ground whines, running his hands through his hair in despair.

“Okay, but what if I really want to wear it?” he asks all innocent, his roommate now faking a cry in response, “besides, I was asking Y/N, so you shut your mouth.”

“I think it’s great,” you nod, wiping the corner of your eyes from the stray tears that fall off from the laughter you’ve been doing at the interaction. Your assignment was long forgotten the first moment Donghyuck decided to pay you a visit in the living room, starting with shitting on his professor for making him study on a weekend (which you argued that he could’ve started with earlier in the week, to which he glared at you and asked if he looks like a nerd), and then proceeding to do everything but study– starting with making a smoothie in the living room– while efficiently making so much noise with the mixer every time Renjun spoke up, annoying the short male– to giving you a make-shift fashion show.

“Do you want me to embarrass myself? See, I wore this to test if you were being genuine, but I see now that you’re on Renjun’s side,” he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and escaping the living room, making you burst out laughing even more as you hear the door to his room shut with a loud thud.

He’ll come back soon– you’re sure of it.

And you’re right. After Renjun manages to let out a loud noise of despair at the fact that he has to live with someone like Lee Donghyuck– not only now, he complains about it every other day, when the latter drags him to parties only for him to be the designated driver for the night and get him home safely, or how he makes him pay for dinner he orders for the both of them without asking– the other man joins you in the living room again, now dressed casually in sweatpants and a loose shirt.

“Okay, the fashion show’s over. I think I’ll go with the first outfit, just by the way, because it matches my eyes,” he says, quite seriously, to which Renjun only sighs.

“Hyuck, your eyes are brown.”

“Okay and?”

“That what you wore was– you know what, never mind…” Renjun shakes his head as he stops himself mid-sentence, making you snicker at the mental image of the outfit Donghyuck’s talking about, because frankly, Renjun is right with his frustration. The shirt his roommate wore was blue, and while it didn’t clash in the slightest, it surely didn’t match the brown depth of Donghyuck’s orbs, and that’s what makes the whole thing that much funnier.

Turning your head around to watch Renjun’s roommate moving through the kitchen area, opening up the fridge and pouring himself a glass of milk– you don’t even dare to question him anymore– you ask. “What is the occasion anyway?”

“Jisung’s birthday party,” he mumbles, taking a sip, “you know Park Jisung, right?”

“Never heard of him,” you shake your head, seeing as the man widens his eyes at you with surprise.

“No? Well, you’re gonna get to know him soon, then,” he says, shrugging.

“That sounds like a threat,” you giggle, “what do you even mean?”

To that, Donghyuck shifts his eyes to his roommate sitting next to you on the ground, shrugging. “Well, I assumed you were invited…” he says, grinning to himself.

The man next to you audibly sighs– what is the reason behind his frustration this time, you truly do not know, but with Renjun, there’s always something getting on his nerves. He has a problem with having his anger in control sometimes.

Furrowing your eyebrows at the proposition, you shake your head. “Why would I be invited to Park Jisung’s birthday party?”

“Because it’s quite the event! Park Jisung’s turning into an adult, and to that, he’s throwing a big party, which means friends of friends of friends are invited,” he says, as if it was the most matter-of-fact information you’ve ever heard, “and since you’re a friend of a friend, I’d assume you get a pass.”

Shrugging, you mutter. “Well, I wasn’t invited,” you add, not paying the whole party much thought. 

The man squints his eyes at the two of you, eyes drifting from one figure to the other, humming to himself as if he was lost in thought. “Okay, then…” he mysteriously mumbles under his breath before downing the glass and putting it into the sink, completing his visit by exiting the living room.

“Would you come back and wash your dishes after yourself?” Renjun yells into the depths of the apartment, a sneaky remark being thrown his way almost immediately.

“No, thank you!”

And after watching the interaction, you come to the conclusion that if you were living with Lee Donghyuck, you'd turn kind of crazy too. You can’t even blame Renjun anymore. Truth be told, though, you didn’t get much work done that Saturday, and you think his sheer presence might be the reason why.

“What do you think?” you ask, turning your laptop towards Renjun, the two of you currently sitting in the library, working on your project. Originally, you had planned to go to your place– but Jimin texted you last second that she has a guy over, and Renjun said his roommate has a gathering of some sort at his apartment, so you settled on the comfort and silence your university library provides. Not a lot of people are here during this time of the year; the exam season isn’t that close yet and no one’s panicking about last-minute studying, so only a few responsible students are currently scattered across the spacious room on the second floor, working on their essays. You bet they’re humanities students– they always have the most shit to do when it comes to essays. You study Journalism, but your roommate is a Sociology major, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone write as many essays as Jimin in a single semester.

What you’re showing Renjun is an opened Microsoft Publisher document, your shared magazine shining from the blue light of the screen. Renjun sent you his copy of the pages he’s done with the animal shelter interview, and as you were looking at the columns of text and off-centered pictures, the perfectionist in you woke up and forced you to fix the tiny mistakes that didn’t escape your eye.

“It’s different,” he hums, eyebrows furrowing as he examines the two-page spread, resting his head on his hand, plopped up on his elbow, and pushing his rimmed glasses further up his nose bridge. “Did you change anything?”

“I just… played around with it a little,” you mumble, afraid of what he thinks. As far as you know, he could flip out any second and scream at you for doing his work when it was perfectly fine the way he sent it to you– at least the Huang Renjun you met a few weeks ago would certainly do that– and so you don’t think it’s that unexpected of you to be so nervous about his opinion.

“This picture wasn’t here before,” he says, pointing to one of the pictures you neatly slotted into the corner of the page– it was one of your favorites, you must admit with severe embarrassment– with Renjun holding up a baby kitten, looking at it with softened eyes. When you looked at the page spread he sent you the other day, you couldn’t believe he didn’t add that picture. Something about it being your favorite– finding yourself admiring it when you look through the pictures on your camera’s SD card– was enough to make you think it’s surely his favorite as well. It didn’t matter that it didn’t really fit the professional aura the whole spread radiates. For you, the magazine wasn’t complete without including it– think of that what you will.

“It was asymmetrical without it, so I had to add it…” you say, scratching the back of your neck. That’s a partial lie– you could make it work if you moved the pictures around a little bit, but Renjun doesn’t have to know that.

He hums, eyes scanning over the text, shrugging. “It’s nice. As long as you didn’t change the text part, I don’t mind,” he says, relief making your shoulders slouch down, not even noticing how tense you’ve become, “I actually got bored while working on this, so I get that it didn’t really look nice before. Thanks,” he completes, offering you a soft smile as he takes a sip of the black americano sitting on the desk.

“Good,” you nod, shaking off the nervousness from before, “okay.”

Scrolling through the document, moving a few things around, adding better punctuation here and there, the number of pages is still not hitting the criteria for your final grade. That’s okay– you still have a lot of time to complete the magazine and you still have plenty of ideas. To execute them is another thing, but you’re sure you’ll find a way.

“What about your interview?” Renjun suddenly asks, almost making you jump up from the surprise that is created by his voice suddenly cutting through the silence of the library.

“What about it?” you hum, looking at him. His hair is a little tousled– he’s been putting in way less work than you today, laying on the table occasionally when you don’t show him anything on your laptop for a while, acting more as your company than a help. It looks like the coffee on his table is the only thing keeping him awake, and you suddenly feel a little bad for insisting on working on the project even though your initial plans of doing it at your place fell through, because he seems to be exhausted.

“Well, I did the shelter, so you should do something too,” he says, shrugging, “or do something similar, you know… I think it would be nice to have you write about something from a reporter's perspective.”

“Oh,” you nod, “well, I dunno… I had a few ideas, but it’s…”

“Hm?” he motions for you to talk when your voice drifts out, eyes looking at you with patience and genuine interest. The change of demeanor that’s been happening with him lately slightly shocks you, but you welcome the new character in him with open arms. Still, it doesn’t mean you don’t get a little hesitant around him whenever he shows you this side of him– you don’t really know how to react, or what to expect of him anymore. It’s like walking on eggshells, but you can’t say you hate the strange anticipation.

“Well, it’s stupid, but…” you start, seeing him roll his eyes at the beginning of your proposition, “my favorite writer is doing some sort of a fan sign slash q&a thing in the local library next week. She’s coming out with a new book, and I think it would be nice to get an interview with her, but she’s probably very busy and everything, so that won’t work out.”

Looking at Renjun, feeling shy of the sudden revelation of hopes and dreams, you chew on your bottom lip in anticipation. The range of answers he could give you is truly big– he could laugh at you, tell you to go alone, or he could tell you that it’s a stupid idea, a boring one, even, or he could be supportive– the least likely response, you think. Sharing your idea with him makes you a little hesitant again, feeling a little naked in front of him, and you even avert your gaze towards your laptop and aimlessly scroll through the document to avoid his gaze, to seem more nonchalant and not at all bothered by his lack of words, when he gives you a tired hum.

“Well, you could at least do an article about the library, then. To advertise sustainability, and all… And kids these days don’t read much, so I think it’s nice to talk about it,” he says, once again folding over the table and burrowing his face in the space between his folded arms and his chest, half sitting, half laying down on the furniture, “wanna go next week? Maybe we can catch that writer of yours.”

Allowing yourself to look at him, relief once again washing over you at the acceptance, you can’t help but smile at his slurred words of affirmation. “I mean, I’m down…”

Doubting you could get the interview– not even trying to reach out to the writer, already setting yourself up for the expected failure– you make plans to visit the library the said day with Renjun anyway. You’ll get your camera and maybe get some nice shots, maybe ask around for an interview from one of the nice, old librarians instead. It’s not a bad idea, and it fits the vibe of your magazine quite nicely.

Who knows, maybe you could even get your book signed. Doesn’t hurt to try.

You think it was safe to say that you didn’t expect to see a text message pop up on the screen of your phone one afternoon, the black letters shining darkly on the bright screen with a hesitant, yet a little hurried invitation to Park Jisung’s birthday party. The whole interaction you had about it with Renjun and Hyuck was awkward, and so to see getting an invitation for yourself the day of the said event was a shocking concept, leaving you scrambling your things from various places of your apartment and putting them into a handbag before getting dressed for the occasion. 

Quickly learning that Lee Donghyuck is a man of his word– meaning that he never lies, especially when it comes to big parties– your mouth hangs open when you arrive to the address Renjun texted you in the afternoon, the big mension-like building full of people you’ve never seen before, leaving you to acknowledge that friends of friends of friends must have been invited to fill up the whole place, since it’s not possible for poor Park Jisung to know everyone at his birthday party. The fact makes you feel less special; the invitation not really making you feel like you were wanted there, the place breaking in its seams making you internalize a thought that you were there just to fill up the blank spaces and Renjun invited you only for the sheer fact of needing a lot of people for his friend’s party. A little disappointed, yet, still kind of amazed at the size of it all, you walk out of Jimin’s car– she offered to drive you there– and hesitantly set your foot to the  grass that divides the land from the sidewalk. 

Feeling a little lost, turning your head in various directions to try to find anyone you’d know– Huang Renjun being the best alternative, since he was the one who invited you, after all– you start to feel a little out of place when no one pays you any attention and the loud music filling your ears only acts as a distraction that slowly makes you oversaturated with stimulus. Just when you go to take your phone out of your bag to call either Renjun or your roommate to come back to pick you up and drive you to the safety of your apartment, a hand lands on your shoulder and makes you turn around in your tracks, a strange sense of comfort enveloping your insides when you see the short blonde peeking at you from under his carelessly styled bangs, a grin sitting on his face. “You’re here!”

“Yeah. I told you I’d come…?” you mumble, observing Renjun’s sudden enthusiasm at your arrival, letting the man drag you inside of the building. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel all the eyes of the guests on you. While you were a stranger to all of them, you are almost certain the popular Huang Renjun was one of the more known people of the bunch, catching attention of multiple friends of his and also friends of their friends, and suddenly, the feeling of his touch on your wrist as he drags you inside makes your skin burn, your brain almost overheating when you realize this might as well be the first time you’ve had any sort of physical contact with the male. Fixing your gaze on his back, enveloped in an oversized leather jacket, you start to wonder if he’s drunk.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks, finally turning back to you when you arrive in the spacious kitchen. You wonder if this house is rented, or if Park Jisung’s one of the wealthy kids in the town. You truly have no knowledge on the man, and when you hesitantly look around the room, trying to sort out what alcohol they have in store– while mentally thinking of what would make you the least hammered, considering your low alcohol tolerance– you feel Renjun’s eyes glued to you, heat inevitably rising to your cheeks. “What’s that in your hand?” he asks, making you jump out of your haze.

“Oh,” you stutter, “I brought a birthday gift for Jisung,” you mumble, seeing Renjun’s glossy eyes blink at you a few times, his lips suddenly twitching up in amusement. In this moment, you think he truly must be drunk, his fingers reaching towards the gift bag in your left hand as he peeks inside, noticing the handwritten card and a box of chocolates you brought to the boy you’ve never seen before. Your project partner cracks up as he puts the bag away to the corner of the room.

“You’re too sweet for this world,” Renjun giggles as he looks back at you, making you widen your eyes in surprise at the affectionate words falling off his tongue.

“Why?”

“Nobody actually expected you to bring a gift, you know,” he says as he walks through the half-empty kitchen, eyes roaming over the solo cups filled with alcohol, “you don’t even know him. Half the people here don’t know him and I’m pretty sure half of his actual friend group didn’t give him anything.”

“Oh,” you blink, suddenly feeling stupid. “Well, I didn’t want to seem rude…” you sheepishly mumble, scratching the back of your neck in hesitance. Maybe you did go a little overboard– nobody can really blame you, though. You’re not a big party goer, and since it’s someone’s birthday, you only assumed it’s socially expected of you to bring a gift. And it’s Renjun’s friend, on top of that– one would say you wanted to give off a good impression, as his plus-one to the party, whatever that means. If you were considered that, to be exact– with the amount of people here, though, you were starting to feel a little lost in the situation.

“See, you’re too sweet,” he says, shrugging,  eyes still fixated on the kitchen counter as he seemingly searches for a specific drink. Arm motioning towards one of the red solo cups, he suddenly turns to you and offers you the contents, smiling. “He loves chocolate, though, so that gift’s gonna be his favorite. Well, if it even gets to him in this whole mess… rum and coke?” he asks, and without much thought, you eagerly take the cup from his hand, nodding.

“Thanks,” you say, tasting the alcohol on your tongue. You don’t tell him that rum and coke is your biggest enemy– not because it tastes bad, quite the opposite, actually. You enjoy the mixture too much for you to control yourself sometimes. You can only pray that you don’t get too loose tonight.

The man’s eyes stay strangely glued to your figure as you sip from the cup, and you almost open your mouth to tease him about it– or ask if there’s something on your face, either or– when there’s a chant coming out of one of the rooms outside, incoherent screams slowly forming into one recognisable word– a name, to be exact– the voices calling Park Jisung, tonight’s birthday boy. Renjun’s eyes widen at that, his body moving fast as he tugs you by your hand again, almost spilling your drink in the process, your figure suddenly standing in a living room seemingly bigger than your whole apartment, the sight in front of you making you laugh.

A tall, lanky boy is thrown up in the air by the arms of multiple men– one of which you recognise to be Hyuck– as the whole room chants Jisung's name, the sight  a little comedic in your eyes. Rose tint settles on Park Jisung's face as the whistling only gets louder, a few phones with the flash turned on pointed to his face, the moment captured in time. You wonder what the boy did in his life to get this amount of popularity, but you can only imagine that, as one would say, this could very well be a core memory for him. You only turn adult once in your life, and for some reason, the thought of Park Jisung doing so surrounded by his friends that threw him perhaps the biggest birthday party in the history of your university campus, you get a little emotional for him. Maybe Renjun was right with you being too sweet for this world– in this moment, though, you think you’re too soft instead.

After a while, the men get tired of holding up his weight and the boy slowly comes down from the high, the hollering getting more quiet as it turns into the birthday song, making you join in with the singing. The thought of being an outcast, just a random person in the crowd slowly seeps away when you feel included in the moment, worry leaving you as you watch Donghyuck– the biggest hype man of his friends, or so it seems– shake the birthday boy vigorously by his shoulders before he lets go and plants a sloppy kiss to his cheek, which leads to the two of them chasing each other around the crowded place.

Watching the whole scene unfold right in front of your eyes, you find yourself gazing at Renjun from the corner of your eye, the bright grin on his face making your heart squeeze in a weird way. He seems so happy in this moment, dragging you from room to room excitedly as if he was a regular in this place, the joy of celebrating his friend making his flushed face glow in a healthy way. You got used to seeing his face clouded in a shadow; the worried crease in between his eyebrows and the darkness under his eyes regular visitors in his expression, so to see him seep in the ugly orange lights of the luxurious house tugs at your heartstrings in a way you choose to not recognize or name. 

“Y/N!” you hear your name screamed from somewhere in the room, making you tear your eyes away from the man standing by your side. Looking at the source of the yell, you find Lee Donghyuck striding towards you with his long legs, the action almost threatening, yet, his face beams in an excited aura.

“Hyuck!”

“You came!” he yells back in the same energy as last time, although his body is now only a few steps away from you, making you giggle. You recognise his outfit to be one of the multiple he showed you back at their apartment before he started acting all silly, the memory making you laugh in fondness.

“I did!” you nod, “I got invited,” you say, voice almost sounding proud of the achievement. 

“Yeah, I know,” he says as his eyes drift from you to Renjun, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively before he earns himself a punch to the shoulder from his roommate, a sharp, over-exaggerated scowl escaping his lips at the motion. “Come meet Jisung!” he quickly switches up the topic, dragging you along with himself like a rag doll in an instance. He must be drunk; you think. 

You wonder why you keep being dragged around the house– maybe it’s a sign that you’re too weak and should probably start working out more so you can stand your ground. Nonetheless, you follow the man as you look around, as if to apologize to Renjun for leaving him, when you see the blonde following you to the small group in the corner of the living room, recognising them to be the ones holding up Jisung just a few minutes prior. 

“Jisung! This is Y/N!” Donghyuck utters out as soon as you get to the small gathering, all eyes suddenly glued to you. You wouldn’t say it made you feel comfortable or even invited– quite the opposite, to be honest– but the man that was addressed cutely turns to you, a shy smile plastered on his face when he greets you.

“Ah! Hello!”

You doubt Park Jisung even knows who you are. You doubt any of these people do– with how they’re looking at you in examination, but you still bite through it as you force a smile on your face. “Happy birthday,” you say to him, earning yourself a bright smile from the recipient.

“Thanks!” he beams. “You’re Renjun hyung’s friend, right?” he asks  in response, almost making you choke on your spit in surprise at the fact that the boy knows who you are, which leads you to believe that you were talked about in this circle before.

“Sort of,” you nod, forcing out a giggle.

“Sort of?” the annoyed voice of Huang Renjun himself fills your ears from your right, making you jump up at the proximity of him that you weren’t aware of before, the mock offense on his face making you giggle when you think of the remorse he treated you with when you first met. He looked like he never wanted to speak to you in his life, and now he’s acting offended at you not fully calling him your friend? Yes, you did that to spite him– because if you weren’t friends, you truly don’t know what you were even doing here in the first place– but you still think the whole thing is a little ironic. “You’re at our house at least once a week and we’re not friends in your eyes?” 

“Well, that’s only because I have to,” you argue, when the man only shakes his head at you in disbelief.

“Okay, you’re not allowed to eat our snacks when you come over anymore,” he says, shrugging in nonchalance. Laughing, you find yourself looking over the group you’re standing with, the discomfort slowly fading away when you engage in conversation with Renjun. You catch a few names you can’t really place to their respective faces– mainly because Jisung was the only one formally introduced to you– when you notice a girl staring at you in examination, her figure not noticed by you before. 

The longer you stare at her, the longer you start to recognise her, and before you let panic overtake you– in all honesty, you don’t even know why you’d panic at this fact– you realize it’s none other than Huh Yunjin, your friend’s ‘cheating ex-girlfriend’ looking at you with something resembling spite in her eyes, her jaw clenched and her look glazing from your outfit to your face, as if mentally scoring you on your attractiveness, judging every detail of your body, all while a tall boy hugs her to his side– whom you presume is her new boyfriend.

He looks nothing like Renjun– he is quite the opposite, if you really think about it– and even though you tear your eyes away from her figure, your brain still screams at you with arguments that you look nothing like her; even though it shouldn’t really matter. You’re not Huang Renjun’s new girlfriend– not even the object of his desire, or the new girl by his side– you’re just his project partner, a classmate he’s grown to calling a friend, but still, you can’t help but notice her radiating beauty, the outshining features on her face and the charismatic aura she radiates– the polar opposite to everything you’d describe yourself as; and the comfort you felt while talking with Renjun’s friends is suddenly swept under the carpet, long forgotten when you still feel her eyes burning through your skull, her gaze making you like an intruder, someone who’s not supposed to be here, someone who doesn’t belong. 

And to make things even worse, you suddenly feel Renjun’s hand around your waist, and when your eyes lock with his you swear you see a hint of understatement in them, something that lets you know that he’s aware of his ex girlfriend’s burning stare; his protective side kicking in, yet still making you question the matter even more.

You bet he did it to soothe you. You can even clearly read his intentions in the warm smile he sends you when he squeezes your side, hugging you closer to himself, but the more you’re aware of his burning palm on your flesh, the more uncertain you become, the less engaged in the conversation you get, and the more uncomfortable you feel under the orange lights of the living room.

“Wanna go outside? I’m pretty sure they have a karaoke machine there, if you wanna play,” you feel Renjun whisper into your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, the hint of vodka in it supporting your earlier claims and that he was at least a little tipsy after all. 

Nonetheless, you nod and find him leading you outside, not before you turn around to look at Yunjin for one last time, though, seeing clear jealousy shading her expression; making you wonder if you were invited just because she was too, and if you just fulfilled your designated role for the night.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, looking at your companion as the two of you sit on the stairs outside of the university building, your bags carelessly placed at your feet. It’s getting quite dark out, the winter days still being insanely short even though it’s the middle of February and spring is slowly approaching the town. The two of you had worked on your assignment in the library before Renjun told you that he has to wait for his friends Jeno and Donghyuck to pick him up, since they are meeting up with their friends from high school, their friend group living out of town requiring the two of them to take a drive there.

“Of course not,” Renjun shakes his head, “I offered to drop you off, so why would I mind?” 

“What about your friends–”

“If they have anything against it, I’ll make sure to choke them, so don’t worry about that,” Renjun softly laughs at his own joke, trying to ease you. Still, there’s something inside of you that makes the atmosphere heavy and thick, having you crack your knuckles as you sit in silence, chewing on your bottom lip from nerves.

“What’s up? You’ve been acting weird lately,” Renjun hums, looking at you from his place on your left. 

You tried hard to mask your hesitance, especially because you think the worries inside of you are stupid, but you can’t help but feel a hint of discomfort whenever you think of Jisung’s birthday party. Sure, you had a great time– his friends were nice to you, Hyuck even dramatically sang a song at the karaoke with you when Renjun got tired, the two of you taking shots together when you were done. You danced with Renjun after, the music keeping you close, and when you got tired, he walked you home. Everything felt normal between you– except from the weird closeness and occasional touches he sent your way– but you presume that was the effect of alcohol, so you didn’t ponder on it that much.

The eyes of his ex girlfriend on you the whole evening is what made you feel a bit itsy about the situation, and even though there was no hint that would further prove your previous claims, you can’t help but think about Huh Yunjin from time to time, and that’s what makes you feel at least a bit awkward about the whole thing.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, trying to play it off.

“Come on,” Renjun sighs, “tell me. Is it something I did?”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes at his insisting. The shift in dynamic is ironical, to say the least– 4 months ago, he wouldn’t care about what was making you feel so down, he wouldn’t even care about you walking home from university alone in the darkness of the evening hours, but now, the crease between his brows almost makes him look worried about you, and you can’t say you hate it– even though in this moment, you’d rather have him not care at all.

“Okay, so I’ll just play a guessing game, then,” he scoffs, humming, lost in thought. “You’ve been weird since the party. Something happened there?” 

“No,” you disagree, tone of voice almost sounding desperate and harrowing, not really wanting him to keep asking about the reasoning behind your mood.

“Okay, so that’s a yes. Did someone make you feel uncomfortable? Do I need to beat somebody up? Oh god, was it Hyuck? That fucker said something to you, right? I’m gonna lock him out of the apartment, I swear to god–”

“It wasn’t Hyuck,” you giggle at his outrage, deciding to save his roommate’s life.

“It wasn’t?” he asks, seemingly genuinely surprised, expecting his devilish roommate to be the reason behind all the bad things in the world. “Okay, so it must have been me, no? What did I do?” 

Sighing and shaking your head in disbelief at his insistence, you grunt. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jun, can you just stop asking?” you say, the nickname rolling of your tongue automatically, without much thinking. 

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. It does nothing to help you relax or feel better about the situation, but at least you think Renjun finally dropped the topic and won’t ask you about it again. You’d rather have the ground swallow you whole than to admit what’s been bugging you, especially when it’s Renjun himself you’re talking to about the matter.

You were, once again, wrong in your assumptions. Renjun did not drop the topic– no, he just took his sweet time to hit the nail on the head.

“Was it because of Yunjin?” 

The question opens a pit in your stomach, the embarrassment creeping out of your body and making you heat up not helping your case. Hands clammy as you shake your head and gesture, trying to prove your disagreement with the question to the best of your abilities– but only making yourself look stupid and like you’re trying too hard– your words come out weirdly high-pitched, only further proving Renjun’s point.

“No, it– it’s not that, I– I–”

Renjun scoffs at you, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Did she– did she make you feel uncomfortable? I know she’s been staring a lot the whole evening, I’m sorry about that…”

His words do a little to comfort you. You wouldn’t say you were perfectly fine with the fact that he knows that it was his ex girlfriend that’s been on your mind the past few days– because you two aren’t dating, and realistically, this shouldn’t matter to you– but his understanding eyes bearing into yours make you calm down a little when you sigh and avert your gaze, chewing on the inside of your cheek before you speak back up again.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I– It was expected, I guess?”

Renjun hums, eyes focusing somewhere into the unknown. Picking at the skin on your cuticles, you think the conversation is over and you’ve done a good job at playing it off, half of your worries now soothed, but Renjun is a man full of surprises, it seems, when he looks at you again, licking his lips in hesitance.

“But that’s not all, is it?” he asks, but he gets no answer from you. It doesn’t matter– your silence is enough of a conformation. “Look, I didn’t… I didn’t invite you to make her jealous, or anything, if that’s what’s running through that brain of yours, okay? I didn’t even know she would be there.”

Blinking a few times at him, not expecting him to read you so well, you let out the breath you didn’t even know you’ve been holding, nodding at his reassuring words. “Oh…”

“I invited you because I thought you’d have fun… and because I kind of wanted you there. And so did Hyuck, actually, he thinks you’re his platonic soulmate, or something–” the man rambles, explaining his intentions to you, the frantic words coming out of his mouth making you giggle. Relief washes over his face at that, noticing the ease in the atmosphere, his hand gently squeezing your knee when your laughs get quiet. “Everything’s good now?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “thanks. It was silly, but– you know,” you shrug, awkwardly grinning to yourself.

“Yeah,” he sighs out, looking back in front of him, the moment of silent sincerity between the two of you having him open up to you, “it wasn’t like that. me and her… it wasn’t quite the same for a while, you know? Like, I knew it was over before it really happened, but nonetheless, I didn’t expect her to… to do what she did to end it.”

You hum, not really knowing what words you could offer him to console him. Not really wanting to ask any more questions, you wait for him to talk by himself, to assure you’re not insensitive or prying too much. You’ll let him tell you how much he wants, and you’ll silently thank him for the trust he has in you when holding up his feelings to you on a silver platter, naked and vulnerable for you to see and examine. 

“It’s like… I wanted to end it, but not with her cheating on me. That– that hurt more than the actual break up, I think. And maybe it shouldn’t matter, because I wasn’t in love with her anymore anyway, but it still… left a scar, I think,” he hums, and by the way he plays with his fingers in his lap, you can tell he didn’t expect himself to open up to you like this– maybe this is the first time he’s even sharing this with anyone, and the urge to protect him and his heart is suddenly stronger than ever before, even though it’s been somewhere there, deep inside of you, all along.

“That’s valid,” you say, “nobody deserves that to happen to them, no matter how your relationship looked at the time. You were still together, and she shouldn’t have done that,” you mumble, hoping to provide comfort to him, but also hoping your words aren’t unwelcome at this very moment.

The blonde looks at you, an appreciative smile appearing on his face. “Thanks,” he says. There’s nothing to thank you for, you think, but perhaps those are the words he needed to hear for a while now. Perhaps your sentences just mended something in him, perhaps you were the voice that finally made him admit that what he’s been feeling about the situation wasn’t stupid or irrational.

In a moment of weakness, a selfish masochism, even, you let out a prying sentence slip out of your lips– a sentence that could hurt you, have you not been prepared for the outcome. And maybe you were going too far, maybe you should’ve stayed quiet, but you can’t turn back time and the words were already spoken. “Do you ever miss her?” 

Renjun thinks for a while– a heartbeat of a second that makes you feel like you’re falling into a deep abyss– before he shakes his head. “Not really. Not her, I don’t miss her. I think that sometimes, I just miss what we had, but… that’s long gone.”

Humming indifferently, you accept his response in a quiet solace. 

You don’t know where this conversation brings you, but you bet it’s a step in some direction.

After a while, with Renjun’s head soundly resting on your shoulder when the silence gets too long, yet a comforting aura still shades the two of you sitting at the stairs, there’s a black Ford Fiesta honking at the parking lot, the two of you jumping to your feet. The boy drags you to the backseat, your bags hitting the floor of the vehicle, as Jeno looks back at you from the front, smiling at you with moon crescents in his eyes.

“Hello!”

“Hi,” you breathe out.

“Is Y/N tagging along?” Hyuck gasps from the passenger’s seat, turning towards you two, a face of a pleasant surprise written all over his face. You know what, maybe Renjun was right and you and his roommate are platonic soulmates of some sort. Or at least that’s how Lee Donghyuck’s been acting ever since the day he met you.

“I’m not,” you giggle, shaking your head in disapproval.

“Jeno, can you drop Y/N off at her apartment?” Renjun hums, and suddenly, the previous worries leave you as soon as the tall man nods and tells you to navigate him to your place. There was no reason why you’d be rejected by Renjun’s friends– for more reasons than one, you just aren’t aware of them yet.

The ride to your apartment is filled with laughter. Squinting at your project partner sitting next to you at the back of the car, you notice that he’s glowing brightly in the reflections of the lampposts shining through the windows of the car, a stolen galaxy swirling in his eyes when your eyes meet when you pay your goodbyes to the guys while getting off at your driveway a few minutes later.

And it’s quite funny. You don’t even live that far.

–

Clapping when your favorite writer completes the little interactive Q&A at the local library on a Monday afternoon– all throughout you didn’t have any courage to ask any questions yourself, even though you had plenty– you stand up from your place at one of the little, lanky folding chairs in the back of the room and smooth your hands over the skirt of your dress, getting the creases out. You’ve learned a lot about the author today– all from how she started writing, what inspired her to write your most favorite novel, and where she finds her inspiration for writing. You have a lot of information, yet, you still bet you could master more questions, if you were to do an interview with her– you wouldn’t even have to try as hard. 

Reading is one of your passions, it’s something that brought you to the love you have for writing, and although you didn’t stick with fiction for long, finding that the world building and creating plot and characters got boring for you after a while, you found your love for writing shining through when you type articles; making sure your headlines are captivating, that your articles are well-structured and bring something new to the table. It’s a completely different branch– some would say a less creative one– but it’s undeniable that the love for it started in you when you first started reading books, when you were little, in the quiet and comfort of your room.

Glancing back at Renjun, the boy follows you like a lost puppy (you bet it’s his first time at the library, despite him owning quite a few books himself– you noticed so while examining his room one time and found classics in his bookshelf), he offers you a soft smile, nudging you to keep walking. There’s a line forming towards the head of the room, where the writer is still sitting, numbers of passionate readers and fans of her work waiting to get their books signed. There’s a little stand in the middle of the far right wall, containing numerous books written by the person currently sitting in the same room, breathing the same air as you two, and you don’t hesitate to buy the latest one, the one you haven’t had the chance to read yet, with the intention of getting it signed.

“Which one’s your favorite?” Renjun asks, standing close to you and pointing towards the stacks of books on the stand.

“That one,” you hum, bringing his attention to the paperback cover at the very corner of the stand, watching as the man takes it into his hands and flips it over, reading through the summary. He looks like one of those Pinterest boards you’d title ‘Dark academia’ with a series of emojis that fit the ‘aesthetic’, with his plaid coat layered on top of a knitted, light brown sweater, the blonde fringe slightly falling into his eyes. 

“I’ll get this one, then,” he looks at one of the ladies behind the stand, smiling at her as he gets his wallet out.

“Don’t you want the latest one?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, smiling at the lady once again when the book is back in his hold, paid for and now in his ownership. His eyes are back at you when he offers you the explanation. “You said you liked this one, so I wanna try it. And you don’t know if the latest one is any good, so at least I’ve heard a good review on this one and don’t have to be afraid of buying a shitty book,” he snickers, making you roll your eyes at the tone of his voice, but still, there’s a little man in your brain screaming at the top of his lungs– screeching, even– at the action, the gears in your brain turning faster and faster as you let yourself indulge and overthink his words. He bought it because it’s your favorite– so he said– and in a split second of delusion, it doesn’t matter to you if it was just because he wanted to be sure the book is good, or if it was just him wanting to read your favorite book as a way of learning more about you.

“As if any of her books could be bad,” you mumble, moving slowly through the line. You’re the last ones waiting for the autograph, and while there’s still a lot of people in front of you, you can’t help but feel a little nervous at the promise of an interaction with the author.

“Well, you can never really know. Everyone has bad days.”

Snickering at his argument, you shake your head in disbelief and move a few steps forward again. You’ve taken a few photographs of the library while you were sitting and listening to the talk; a few of the author– to capture the nice memory– and some of the interior as well, showcasing the numerous shelves filled with books of different genres that the library provides. Still, you take the camera into your hands again, taking a few more– you were sure to get permission from the smiley and welcoming librarians when you arrived– trying to capture the atmosphere and the heartwarming aura of it all. A little selfishly, for your own memory, you turn to your companion and point the lens towards him, seeing as he poses with the book, acting a little silly when you take the picture, and when he breaks into an amused grin after, you take another one– a moment captured in time, his toothy laugh on full display. When you look at the picture again, your heart warms up a little at the image. Maybe you could get it printed out and add it to your memory book alongside the pictures you have from your first university parties and moving into the new apartment with Jimin– just so you have something to look back to.

Soon enough, you reach the front of the room, your bodies only a few steps away from the author. When the last guests in front of you leave, paying their goodbyes, you take a step forward with a little sigh, trying to encourage yourself and also calm down the erratic beating of your heart, ready to face the idol you’ve been looking up to since you were 11. With Renjun on your side, you put on your most picture-worthy smile, clammy hands offering the book to the writer when you reach the long table, choking on your words.

“Hello,” you greet, not really knowing what to say. You would be lying if you said you didn’t rehearse this in your brain seventy different times ever since you talked with Renjun about going to the library last week, trying to make up the perfect scenario and find the best words to use when you finally meet her, but in this very moment, the whole script flies through the window and you’re left silent and hesitant, heat rising to your cheeks when you can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Hello,” you hear Renjun greet shortly after you, bumping into you a little with his hip when he stumbles to the table, seemingly more calm than you, trying to save the day, “my name’s Huang Renjun,” he says, and you want to kick him in his shin– because who even does that? Who tells their full name to a stranger, an author he’s never heard of before actually attending this meet and greet, acting as if he was an old friend of hers, meeting the famous writer after a long time? You almost thought he’d save you from the embarrassment and lead the way, from the way he approached her, but after hearing those words come out of his mouth, you almost go to scold him for his behavior.

To your surprise, though, the writer’s eyes widen in what seems to be realization, nodding to herself. “So you must be Y/N!” she says, looking back at you, a welcoming smile appearing on her lips. 

“I- I-” you stutter, suddenly feeling really confused. Is this a dream? Are you asleep? Or is your favorite writer suddenly a psychic too? What are you missing?

“Yeah! She’s just a little nervous right now,” he grins, taking a short look at you before he turns back to the author, “so… I take it as you haven’t changed your mind about the interview?”

“Not at all! I’m actually really happy to hear that students are taking interest in my writing and that they want to interview me,” she says, quickly signing your books on the front pages, offering them back to you, “I usually don’t give interviews just to anyone– you know, it would get a little too busy if I did that– but your passion really caught my attention.It reminds me of myself when I was your age… Just give me a few seconds, I have a phone call to make right now, but after I’m done, I’m all yours!” 

“Of course!” Renjun nods, watching as the author stands up from the table and disappears in one of the back rooms, seemingly to take care of the call. Turning back to you, still finding you dumbfounded from the interaction, he can’t help but let out an amused laugh. “Are you okay over there?”

“I- What-” you stutter, shaking your head as if to make your brain reboot, dragging your hand through your hair to get it out of your face, “how did you even manage to- she doesn’t even-” you fail to create coherent sentences, shock and surprise overshadowing your otherwise good choice of vocabulary, confusion spreading over your face like a shadow.

“I have my ways,” he shrugs nonchalantly, as if this was the easiest thing to accomplish, once again breaking into a grin when he sees your stoic face, “maybe try to smile a little? She might think you’re terrified of her if you keep frowning like that.”

“I am,” you mumble, still not quite comprehending the situation.

Rolling his eyes at you, he snickers. “Come on,” he says, “I bet you have plenty of questions for her up in that brain of yours,” he points to the middle of your forehead, shaking his head at your frozen figure.

“I do, but-” you mumble, catching yourself mid-sentence, “how did you even-” the words stream out your mouth, a puzzled expression not leaving your face.

“You can thank me later. Now focus on your job,” he says, turning you by your shoulders and pushing you a little towards the author that has now emerged out of the back room, a welcoming glint in her eye when her eyes land at the two aspiring journalists.

On that Monday afternoon, with sweaty palms and tongue-tied as you stutter out the curious questions, making an interview for your imaginary magazine, you learn that contrary to the popular demand, Huang Renjun is quite full of surprises. 

The longer you know Renjun, the more you hang out without the purpose of working on your assignment together. Truth be told, you started working on it pretty early into the semester, and while others were now aimlessly pulling all nighters to complete the magazine, you and Renjun were pretty much done with it already by now, since you forced the man to start working on it as soon as it was possible. He didn’t say it out loud, but you can tell he was thankful for that– it would kill the both of you if you had to focus on the project now, when exam season is slowly, but surely in reach and you’ll have to start studying soon.

It was a little awkward at first– you still remember the first time you watched Netflix with him in the silence of his apartment, with his mood very apparently below zero– starting with the two of you taking breaks in between working on your assignment, talking about the latest episodes of the anime you two have, coincidentally, chosen to watch at the same time; later progressing into full on sessions of gossip with his roommate Donghyuck joining the two of you at the comfortable couch. You’d say your friendship started a little this way, with you and Renjun running to the convenience store when you ran out of snacks in the middle of your study sessions and the two of you randomly laughing at something in your Journalism class, earning yourself scolding looks from the professor. It was unexpected, but you grew familiar with the antics, flowing through the days together, filling the boring days with texts full of TikTok links and Donghyuck sending you random pictures of your project partner all zoomed in on Snapchat. You even invited Renjun over a few times, Jimin accepting the new man in the comfort of your home when she realized he’s not as bad as he used to be before, as you ate up all of your snacks this time around instead, having impromptu karaoke sessions in your room, trying to quiz each other on the lyrics of your top tracks of the last year on Spotify. 

Everything felt casual, growing more in tune with the man he was, learning his antics and all about his character. You quickly learned that when he’s feeling down, he gets a little snappy– a bad habit you made him recognise and try to eliminate, at least when you’re around. You found out that when he’s nervous, he bites his nails, and you choose to slap his palms from the proximity of his lips whenever you catch him in the act. When he’s annoyed– much like when you prevent him from the action of gnawing at his fingernails until the skin around them  bleeds– he rolls his eyes and sighs, sometimes even shakes his head at you in disapproval. He looks adorable while doing so, but to save both of you the embarrassment, you’d never tell him out loud.

And you’d even dare to say he learns about you too. He’s an observing individual, and you’d even argue that he cares about you at least a little. For one, he’s not rude towards you anymore, the way he was when you two first started talking, and also, he shows his affection towards you in the most Renjun ways possible. He’d argue that he’s not good with words, but he’s always there to affirm you with them in his true love language whenever you’re stressed or overwhelmed with responsibilities. He also remembers your favorite drinks and snacks, opting to save them for you whenever you come by his place, and even slipping some into your bag before you leave his apartment. He’s a caring individual, a big hearted man, delicate in all directions.

You believe it’s impossible not to fall for him at least a little. Not when you really know him– the way you do, from up close, in his most joyful moments and the ones where he tries to battle you away when the ghosts in his brain try to make him shelter himself away from everyone too.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. Never in a thousand years.

“I hate all this fucking snow,” you tell him instead, when you walk by his side with your groceries in hand, the tips of your fingers brittled from the cold. “Why is it even snowing in the first place, it’s the end of February, for fuck’s sake!” 

The two of you decided to go for a grocery run together, and while some would say it’s not a fun activity to do, you think you like experiencing mundane things with your close ones the most. If you enjoy someone’s company, you truly do not care what you do together– you always go pick up packages from the post with Jimin, or drive your little sibling to the store when you’re back home, even though the action itself doesn’t provide you any conventionally ‘fun’ experiences, most of these are a fond memory in your brain, because you got to spend time with someone you love. It’s the same right now– even though it’s snowing heavily and you can’t feel your feet from the cold– you went to buy groceries with Renjun when he texted you about it, realizing you could buy some things you ran out of as well, opting to walk there together.

“I thought you liked winter?” he snickers, seeing your grumpy expression. 

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you said you hated summer,” he says, matter of factly, making you giggle to mask the warmth spreading on your insides from the knowledge that he remembers the random fact you once told him when you were working on your project together.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like winter either,” you say, shrugging.

“Do you even like anything?”

“No,” you shake your head, totally serious before you burst into laughter, “kidding. I like spring,” you smile at him, eloquently, shuffling your legs along the snowed-in ground, moving closer to the campus, near to where you both live.

“I like spring too, actually.”

“Because your birthday’s in spring?” you snicker, teasing him.

“Maybe,” he admits, laughing with you. “No, but I think spring’s neat for a number of reasons. It always feels… like a new beginning, perhaps? After months of silence, you can finally hear the chirping of birds in the morning, and the sun sets later too, so the days feel longer…” he says, and you find yourself observing him, admiring the love he has for the season.

“Exactly,” you nod, pointing your gaze towards the ground when you notice that he caught you staring, embarrassment creeping up your back before you shudder from the cold, heavy snowflakes falling on top of your head, drenching your freshly washed locks and making your cheeks burn with cold. You can’t remember the last time it snowed so hard– you were in for a couple of warm winters for the last couple of years– and as much as you hate to admit it because of your noticeable aversion towards winter, you must say it looks quite magical.

“Look, I know you hate winter, but you do have windows in your flat, right?” he jokes, making you roll your eyes at the nagging you know you’re about to hear. “Maybe look out of them before you go out, so you could dress for the weather the next time.”

“Very funny,” you snicker, “I’ll let you know, it wasn’t snowing when I was getting ready.”

“Okay then, maybe start using the weather app. It’s great if you want to know how cold it really is outside, and you’re quite good with technology, so maybe you could-”

“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, but feel yourself grinning at the teasing.

The man lets out a sigh– a habit of frustration he does a lot whenever you’re around– before you feel him tugging something onto the top of your head, your ears suddenly shielded by soft fabric. Looking up at your companion in shock, you notice that the beanie that had been sitting on his head until now is covering yours instead; and although you appreciate the gesture with a giddy clench on your insides, you find yourself protesting.

“Jun! You’ll get cold,” you pout.

“Okay, but so will you, and as far as I’m concerned, I have more layers on than you right now, so you need it more than me,” he shrugs, all nonchalant, making you hesitantly smile at him and shut up, keeping the warm wool over your head. 

Next time, you’ll look at the weather app to save your heart some trouble. 

Or maybe you won’t.

Walking closer to your apartment complex, naturally accepting the fact that Renjun decided to walk you home– or just hasn’t realized he’s doing so yet– you fall into comfortable conversation, mostly consisting of you complaining and Renjun finding your tangent amusing.

“My groceries will get all wet! Fucking hell, Renjun…”

“I didn’t force you to come,” he laughs.

“Well, but you have the weather app, as opposed to me, so maybe you could’ve predicted the fact that it was going to snow soon,” you pout, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“And if I did?” 

“Then why’d you drag me out?” you huff, nearing the steps that lead up towards the front door of your building, being careful not to slip on them as you stand on the first one, towering above the man that takes his position opposite of you while you say your goodbyes. 

“Okay, next time get your groceries alone, if you’re just gonna complain the whole way,” he giggles at your fake offendance, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. Snowflakes settle on the tops of his cheekbones, the rosy tint in his face taking your breath away, something in his eyes captivating you and hypnotizing you into doing things you would’ve never dared to do as you reach out towards his hair, now wet from the snow that manages to melt away on his body, brushing your hand through the locks.

“It’s gotten so long,” you muse, “the blonde’s all grown out now.”

He hums, the eye contact making you heat up despite the coldness that’s been trying to seep into your bones. “Maybe I should dye it back to black, then.”

Grinning, you shrug as your hand escapes his scalp. “Yeah,” you nod, “maybe you should.”

“It’s a plan, then,” he says before he grins, poking you in your forehead with his pointer finger as he takes a step back from you, heading towards the direction of his apartment. “I’ll text you,” he adds.

Paying your goodbyes to him, you stumble inside and reach your flat, your whole body on fire even though you’ve been freezing until now as you take off your wet shoes and tug the borrowed beanie from your head. Putting away the groceries, you wonder if there’s a significance in his decision, if the change of hair is the same as the reason why he loves spring; if new things are beginning, or if you’ve just tricked yourself into falling for him too hard.

“You have to mix it together with this first!” Renjun whines, sitting at the edge of the bathtub as he watches you open the box dye you bought together at the drugstore a few hours ago, pointing his finger at the white pack containing the mixing solution.

“Oh,” you mumble, clammy hands flying around and trying to read the instructions instead, too worried to mess up again and accidentally burn Renjun’s hair off. After a few moments of you silently turning the big sheet of paper around in all directions, you hear your companion snicker under his breath, standing up from his position at the edge of the bathtub and mixing the dye with the solution in a little plastic container he got from under the sink himself instead.

“Let me do it,” he shakes his head, “didn’t know you were this useless.”

“If you didn’t want me here, you could’ve just said so,” you put the instruction paper down, crossing your arms on your chest as you take a step back and look at him with an offended pout, watching as he gets everything ready. His hair is sticking all over the place and the shirt he has on is stained with bleach– you suspect he wore this exact outfit a few months ago when he dyed his hair blonde– the fabric hanging loosely down his shoulders. 

“I’m perfectly capable of dying my hair on my own, if you didn’t notice,” he says, “me wanting you here is the sheer reason for your presence.”

Heart skipping a beat at the sentence, masking it off with a fakely annoyed sigh, you watch him take a seat back at the edge of the bathtub when he’s done, motioning for you to take matters into your hands and start dying his hair. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“I’ll do so just to spite you,” you argue back, taking the plastic container with the dye into your hand and standing close to Renjun, parting his hair down the middle as you get the chemical-smelling mixture into his growing locks. Focused on the task at hand, trying really hard not to get the dye all over the place, you almost get lost in the motion of playing with his hair and pay too much attention to each section, your touch gentle not to tug at his hair. It  makes you not notice the way you’re suddenly standing in between Renjun’s opened legs, your skin covered by fabrics of sweatpants touching.

His head suddenly moves, making you almost dye his whole forehead black, when he plops a gummy worm into his mouth and regains his previous position. 

“Stop moving or else it’s gonna look bad!” you scowl, frustrated with the fact that he made you lose your focus.

“Want a gummy worm?” he asks, looking up at you with an innocent smile instead– as if to make you forget all about his actions from before– and you reward him with an annoyed shake of your head that shows him disapproval which he seemingly chooses to ignore as he reaches into the pack of gummies again and holds one up to your lips, fingertips brushing against the skin of your mouth making you feel heat in your cheeks. You didn’t want a gummy worm, but with the proximity of his hand to your face and the starry gaze he offers you when you meet his eyes, you don’t hesitate to take the gummy into your mouth and chew on the candy, earning yourself a satisfied smile.

Turning towards his hair again, the last few strands left undyed waiting for your attention, the man suddenly squeezes your thigh, making you wince. “How is it going up there?”

“Good,” you choke out, suddenly hyper aware of his hand resting on the skin of your leg, as if to hold you in place, his other hand working almost on auto-pilot as he completes the symmetry and grazes your other thigh, his touch on you so gentle you could almost miss it if you didn’t pay enough attention.

“If it’s patchy, I’m blaming you and not the dye,” he teases, drumming against your leg with his fingers, each little gesture making you less and less focused on his hair and more on the way his eyelashes fan over his cheekbones from above, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from making any sound close to frustration or the sound of perhaps losing your mind. 

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t have bought the cheapest one.”

“I’m staying on budget,” he says, making you snicker.

Forcing yourself to focus back onto his hair, you finally complete your task of dying the man’s hair back to its original color. Taking a step back from him and putting the plastic container onto the sink, you start to miss the feeling of his hand on your skin; his hair slicked back by the dye makes him look oddly amusing, though, so you let a grin slip out at the sight of your companion sitting at the edge of the bathtub like a scolded child, his legs outstretched right in front of him and a pack of gummy worms once again firmly gripped in the palm of his hand.

After cleaning up the mess you’ve made on the bathroom sink, with Renjun singing to himself as he put up a timer on his phone for 20 minutes, you find yourself in his kitchen, walking around and finding a pot in which you could cook some ramen for dinner. It’s getting quite late and it’s rare that you find yourself alone in Renjun’s apartment with him, his roommate finally getting out after the dreaded exam season to celebrate, and you can’t help but find the domesticity of sharing his space with him– although this is not the first time– overtake you in a deep feeling of intimacy.

Stirring the noodles around with a fork you found in one of the drawers, listening to the low hums of Renjun singing in the bathroom as he cleans up the skin on his forehead and behind his ears with a wet cotton pad, you wonder how you managed to get used to this– how you even managed to find yourself in the presence of Huang Renjun so often, after only hearing about him from gossip around the school halls and hating his presence when you first had to work with him. It’s ironic, but you don’t hate it quite as much as you would think. 

“You’re making ramen?” he asks as he finally reaches the kitchen, big eyes full of thankfulness meeting yours when he notices you getting out some plates to transfer the meal into, since you’re close to being done.

Humming in agreement, you see him lean on the kitchen counter from the corner of your eye, a satisfied smile reaching his lips. “I should invite you over more often.”

“I’m here like twice a week, Jun,” you mumble, focused on not spilling the meal all over the place.

“Well, if it means you’ll cook all the time, you can even move in, if you want to” he jokes, making you shake your head in disbelief as you take the plates and move them to the coffee table you are so used to sitting at by now, since the boys don’t really have a dining table in their apartment, making them (and sometimes you joining) eat all the meals at the coffee table, sitting on the ground.

“And where would I sleep? On the couch? No, thank you,” you shake your head, digging into the noodles and blowing on them to make them cool faster.

“I’ll kick Hyuck out, so you can have his room,” he mumbles in between bites, following you. 

“So you just want me to be your maid, got it,” you nod.

“That’s not what I said,” he looks at you with offense, before digging into the noodles again, mumbling under his nose before taking a bite, “although you would look nice in a maid dress-”

Kicking him in the leg, seeing as he chokes up on the food from laughing, you shake your head in disbelief at his antics. You think it’s the hair dye getting to his brain, so when his timer goes off in a few minutes after you’re both done with the food, you thank god for bringing you out of your misery. 

Listening to the sound of the shower as he washes the hair dye off, you take it upon yourself to clean up the dishes. You’d feel bad for leaving a mess in his kitchen, and you also think it’s a nice thing to do. It only takes a few minutes before he’s out of the bathroom again, hair damply sitting on his forehead, his figure twirling like a ballerina– reminding you of the way you did little fashion shows for your father whenever you came home from shopping with your mum– waiting for what you have to say about his new look, although in true reality, he looks just the same as a few months ago. 

“Does it look good?”

“I can’t tell ‘cause it’s wet,” you say, squinting your eyes at the mess on his head, “go blow dry it.”

“Fuck no,” he shakes his head, protesting, “I hate blow drying my hair.”

“Why? I can’t tell if it’s patchy this way,” you say.

“My hands get tired and I get bored and I just really don’t enjoy the experience,” he simply states, and he wins– whether this was his intention or not– as you drag him back to the bathroom and get out of him where he keeps the blow dryer, plugging it in and moving to do it for him. 

There it is again– that funny feeling in your stomach as you move your hands through his hair, brushing his bangs away from his forehead as you blow dry his locks. The feeling makes you weak in your knees as you look at the boy who now has his eyes closed, seemingly enjoying the motion of your fingers threading through his freshly dyed strands, and when you finally turn the device off and watch him open his eyes, looking at you half-lidded and seemingly a little tired, you once again notice his hands on your thighs as he sits at the bathtub, although now the touch is more firm, pulling you close to him. 

“Are you happy now that your hair is black?” you find yourself asking, your eyes bearing into him as you reference the dialogue you two had when he dyed his hair blonde, when you two didn’t know each other well just yet and he told you the wishful secret of wanting to have more fun as a blonde since he was sad when his hair was black. 

His smile looks a little drunk, despite the both of you being completely sober as he replies, acting as if he was getting tipsy off your proximity and gentle touch. “My hair’s black because I’m happy, not the other way around,” he mumbles, your eyes momentarily drifting to his pretty lips as he talks, their rosy plumpiness making it hard for you to unstuck your gaze from the curve of his smile and focus on other features of his face.

“Good,” you nod, your hands finding their place at his shoulders, almost going for a hug, but never really completing the action. 

“So how do I look?” he asks again, your conversation growing quiet in the intimate atmosphere, voices not wanting to interrupt the calm, yet tense harbor. 

Examining him, you find yourself once again attracted to the boy you see in front of you. He looks exactly like he did before his break-up– yet now, you’d argue and say he looks even better; healthier and more radiant, his features gentle, hair a little longer and his smile reminding you of an angel. Humming to yourself, you brush your hands through his black strands again, letting yourself indulge in your growing feelings for the man for just a second, before the moment is gone. “Really pretty,” you mumble, watching as his smile grows for a mere second before his eyes drift from yours down to your lips, making you forget how to breathe.

Your hands continue to get lost in his hair as you stare at each other for a while, silence in the bathroom making you listen in on each other’s breathing, before your brain fails you and you let yourself operate on auto-pilot, leaning down to his face, surprised to see him meet you in the middle. You kiss him as if you’ve been waiting ages to do so, your lips molding in with his in a perfect harmony, firm, yet still unmistakably gentle contact making you shiver. 

It feels like a century before you pull away, ready to face the consequences of your actions, when he captures your lips in another kiss, drunk on the action. Feeling him standing up from the edge of the bathtub and moving his hands to firmly grip your waist before he walks you backwards against the tiled wall, the coldness of it mixing with the heat spreading across your body makes you gasp into the kiss and invite his tongue into your mouth.

Your hands fall from his hair and find their way around his neck, tugging him close, while one of his gentle palms rests on your jaw, angling your face in a way that lets him take control and have you even closer, two bodies seeking each other’s presence.

“Renjun…” you gasp when his lips move away from yours, leaving kisses down your jaw, slowly reaching the delicate skin of your neck and the conjunction of your shoulder. 

He hums into your skin, a cold hand sneaking under the hem of your shirt making you wince, all of his actions making your senses hyper aware to the touch and feeling of his lips pressed against you, especially when he finds the sweet spot behind your ear and makes you squirm under him, the feeling of his smile against your skin turning you crazy.

Finding yourself tugging his face back to yours, taking back his lips, his hand travels up your side, leaving goosebumps all over your skin with the cold motions of his fingertips, you shiver under his caring, yet teasing touch. The kiss feels as if it’s one step away from heaven, letting out a satisfied sound when he softly brushes the underside of your breast.

Pressing him closer against you, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his neck, you feel him hard against your thigh, neediness overtaking you as you lightly move against him, hearing him choke out a breath. “Is- is this okay?” he asks, voice not louder than a whisper before you continue with your motions, answering with your actions before using your words, breathing growing quicker with the way the friction makes you feel.

“More than okay with me,” you mumble, seemingly encouraging him as he presses you firmer against the tiled wall, helping you guide your desperate movements. Foreheads pressed against each other, breathing mixing in the silent room, you can’t seem to find it in you to stop, completely losing yourself in him and in the way he makes you feel, selfishly chasing down release from all the butterflies and electric stares he’s been sending your way.

Grunting when you press up against him in a way that sends sparks down his spine, his hand reaches up under your thigh, almost on the skin of your butt, holding up your leg to make more room and get you even closer to him, before he heaves out a sigh. “Let’s go to my room?” he asks hastily before you nod and let him plop you up against his figure with your legs entangled around his middle, escaping the cold tiles of the bathroom and walking over to the his room smelling of fresh laundry detergent and vanilla, soft sheets enveloping your body when he lightly drops you into his mattress.

A giggle escapes your lips at the contact of your body with the bed, earning yourself a playful roll of Renjun’s eyes as he leans over you, plopping himself up on one elbow above you, caging you in his embrace. Maintaining eye contact with him, blissful smiles stretching on your lips, you almost think the moment is over, but he quickly brings you back to the neediness you felt before as he leans in again, kissing you painfully slowly while his hand reaches under the hem of your shirt, letting his palm travel against your body. His actions make you shiver as his fingertips softly tickle your side, moving towards the dip of your waist, then back up across your stomach as he traces mindless shapes against your skin, occasionally letting himself travel up towards the fabric of your bra. Cupping one of your breasts into his hand, you let out a soft grunt when he squeezes the flesh softly enough to make you yearn for more.

Mirroring his actions, your hand moves under his loose shirt, hypnotized by the heat of his flesh. Enveloped in his warmth and the smell of him in his bedsheets, you let yourself roam up his abdomen, embracing the way his muscles jolt a little under your touch, before your hand settles onto his back, fingertips dancing up and down his spine.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles, making you break into a blissful smile, before his hand lazily dips down your belly, seeking approval in your eyes, “can I?” 

Nodding, afraid of seeming a little too eager– although maybe he would welcome that with open arms– you feel his fingertips messily dragging down the waistband of your sweatpants a little by little, leaving you in front of him only in your underwear, his lips swallowing your sighs when he hesitantly brushes his thumb against your clit. 

His movements get more confident as he adds more pressure, making you let out a few more muffled sounds he welcomes with a cocky smile, demeanor shifting as he presses a wet kiss against your cheek when he drags your underwear down and gets back to where he was before, but now acting more gently– as if the contact of your bare core with his fingers made him afraid you’re gonna break in his hold. Softly nudging your thighs, opening up your legs and softly tracing his pointer finger down your slit, he makes your cheeks flush from the contact and the feeling of air against your naked bottom half.

He doesn’t say much as he tests the waters, dragging his digits along your folds, examining your reaction when he circles your sensitive bud and sees you crumble under his touch. Your hands grip his pearl white sheets, not really knowing what to do to ground yourself back to reality, the man above you finally finding enough courage in him to insert one finger, then two inside of you, watching you react to his actions.

“Feels good,” escapes your lips, and truthfully, you didn’t even catch yourself saying it. It left your mouth on itself, your tone a little fragile but full of eagerness, wanting more– and seemingly understanding, he moves inside you with more reason now, hitting the right spot that makes your eyebrows crease and your breathing hitch in your throat.

“There?” he asks, as if to tease you. In any other circumstance, you’d find it in you to bark back something full of sarcasm and irony, but now, vulnerable and sensitive to his every move, you only nod eagerly and meet his eyes which are now clouded with lust, a view you’ve never experienced before, but welcome with undeniable curiosity.

Angling his fingers inside of you just the way you need them, you quickly feel yourself reaching your high, one of your hands flying to his forearm as if to let him know or warn him, somehow. Judging by his actions, he got the memo– showing his experience when he continues with the same speed and pressure, keeping still– before he slowly trips you over the edge, having you clenching around his fingers as you let moans slip out from your lips, euphoria taking over your whole body.

His figure leans into you, holding you close as your breathing comes back to normal, his lips press soft kisses to your temple. It’s almost a hint that the act is over, his actions growing more tender as opposed to the way he had you just a few moments prior, but you find yourself not wanting it to end, tugging his shirt up and earning yourself a questioning look.

“More?” you mumble, looking at him, grabby hands helping him take his shirt off. Your please sound almost like a question– they may as well be, for you don’t know if he wants this too– but he reacts to you positively when you have your eyes roaming across his bare torso, hands flying towards your own shirt, taking it off before you chastly press against him, both of you sitting at his bed, meeting him in a kiss as you settle yourself into his lap. 

In this moment, there’s nothing but him. Your head spins with his essence, your brain painfully aware of everything; of your hands holding his cheeks when you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth, chasing after his neck in a desperate need of leaving a mark, wanting evidence of you being there the next morning, so you could remind yourself that this wasn’t just a dream or a product of your own imagination. When you press down against his lap, dragging your naked core against his hard on, his hands grip your sides, sneaky fingers trailing up after a moment as he tugs the straps of your bra down before slipping it off completely, leaving you naked in front of him.

Lifting you by your hips and moving you back against his pillow, laying you into his sheets, he lets you drag his sweatpants down, your fingers dipping below the waistband of his boxers and gently dragging along the sensitive skin, feeling needier at the sounds of satisfaction escaping his lips. Bringing him closer with your other hand, he takes a moment to confirm with you one last time. 

“Are you sure you… want this?” he doesn’t seem to find the right words, leaving you softly laughing at his puzzled expression.

“I am,” you nod, assuring him, “I- I want you,” you mumble, still loud and clear, and he wastes no time in freeing himself of his underwear and aligning himself with your entrance.

He slowly pushes inside of you, his whole length filling you up. He leaves you some time to adjust, checking in with you with a look to your eyes, fingertips gently dragging your hair out of your face before you confirm with him that you’re okay with a soft nod, making him move and gently thrust inside of you; painfully slow at first, but reaching deep, taking in every inch of you. Pleasure builds inside of you as his thrusts become more quicker, finding a rhythm that makes your toes curl and your hands fly to his back, scratching down along his skin when he hits your spot and your eyes shut in a spell of satisfied sighs.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your lips, a sentence sweet enough to make your cheeks flush under him– yet you think the heat you feel is more than shyness from his words, but from the contact of his skin on yours, driving you absolutely crazy.

His finger gently plays with your clit, slowly, but surely tipping you over the edge. You hold back a moan, head falling to your side on his pillow, Renjun’s lips pressing kisses into the now exposed areas of your neck, still going at a steady rhythm. 

“Fuck,” you let out when he picks up at speed, the imaginary glass of pleasure in you getting fuller and fuller, making afraid of it spilling out when he keeps going, your hand flying into his hair, tugging at it in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, “I’m close.”

He hums against your neck, softly biting a bruise into your flesh. He doesn’t say much, again– his loving is quiet, only occasionally letting out needy noises out past his lips here and there, grunts slipping out when you feel just right around him. You find it hard to keep up with the silence, blissful sounds escaping you when he takes you over the edge. Your walls clench around him as he’s still thrusting into you, chasing down his climax and making the most out of yours. You swear you can see stars, the tips of your fingers starting to tingle when you get a little too overstimulated, but before you can do anything about it, he slips out of you and warmth spreads on your stomach, his body crashing next to yours.

He doesn’t say much after either. The room falls into silence, your bodies heaving with deep breaths as you try to calm down the erratic beating of your hearts. Mindlessly threading your fingers through his hair, you stare at the ceiling, his arms draped over your middle, occasionally playing with the flesh of your hip, squeezing it with his palm and dragging his fingertips across the soft skin. Looking down at him, not seeing much other than the raven locks falling into his forehead and his closed eyes, you try hard to appreciate the closeness of his body, just in case you don’t get to experience it ever again.

Feeling his nose nuzzling into your skin, you wonder if he’s happy.

Dark, wallowing pit opens up in your stomach, the harrowing feeling you didn’t know you could recognise fills you up to your rim; your vision goes a little blurry at the sight in front of you and after a few seconds of torturing yourself by watching, you feel the bitter taste of blood on your tongue from gnawing at the gentle skin of your bottom lip too hard. That alone wakes you up from the weird transe you’ve been put in, making you turn on your heel and chime outside of the building, the iced americano in your hand thrown in the nearest trash can as you take the short way home, suddenly wanting to hide away from everyone and everything, too fragile to deal with the outer world today.

You open up the door to your apartment with a little struggle, your hand shaking not making it easy for you to put the key inside the keyhole, and when you finally get to the comfort of your little place, you’re met with Jimin’s concerned eyes waiting for you in the hall, her figure hesitantly walking over when she heard you struggle with the door.

Closing the door behind you a little too loudly, careless in your actions from how hard your heart is hammering against your ribcage, your roommate approaches you with gentle words. “What happened? Weren’t you meeting up with–”

“No,” you shake your head, cutting off her sentence before his name manages to come out of her mouth, your throat closing as you choke out the response; the soft gaze she offers you at the stern words of disapproval makes your eyes water even though you already promised yourself you wouldn’t cry over this.

“Oh, sweetie,” Jimin mumbles as her long legs make their way towards your shrunken figure, enveloping you in her arms. You let yourself be comforted, almost yearning for the slow strokes she gives your back, her long fingers threading through your hair. There aren’t many instances where you two had to hold each other in the entrance hall, too afraid of letting go before one of you breaks. You remember her breaking up with her boyfriend Jaehyun– they dated for a couple of months last year before he had to move away and a long distance relationship wasn’t something either of them was willing to put each other through– but that time, it was in the comfort of her bedroom and you watched the first season of Too hot to handle together after it was done to take her mind off things. You, however, don’t have much dating experience. Not a significant one anyway– you only dated in high school, and even though the boy you crowned your first in many things was sweet, you simply fell out of love with him after a few months and called it quits, with no tears shed and no hearts broken.

“I think I was just a rebound,” you get out in between your quiet sobs, the image of Renjun sitting at the cafeteria with Yunjin, his soft gaze offered to her as she leaned over the table and said something quietly to him before pressing a kiss to his cheek only further proving your claims.

And you guess you were the stupid one– you guess you were silly for thinking he was over his ex already, even if it’s been a couple of months since they broke up, even if he told you he didn’t miss her, but was sad to let go what they had– because the sweetness in his eyes when he looked at her hurt you more than you could’ve ever imagined, because you think you remember him looking at you like that the evening you dyed his hair black; you remember him looking at you like you hung up the stars on the sky, and you believed the gentle gaze– you believed there was something more than sex to it, you believed he felt the same feelings as the ones you’ve been harboring for the boy ever since you first hanged out at his place and watched Netflix with him to take his mind off the said girl.

Jimin doesn’t ask any questions– she knows you’ll tell her eventually, you just need comfort right now. Sniffling as you try to come down from the heartbreak you’ve caused yourself, you groggily get out a sentence that hurts to say out loud perhaps the most from the feelings freely roaming around your brain. “I don’t think it meant anything to him– I– I don’t think I meant anything to him.”

As if to torture yourself even more, the images of you two getting closer over the time flash through your brain– and you wonder if you were just lying to yourself the whole time. If his words weren’t what he made them out to be, if his gentle nature that overtook him when you were around was just him treating you as one of his friends. If he hooked up with you only because he was horny, and not because he cared for you enough to want to explore you further, deeper– if you were the only one in it for something more, if he was just keeping himself busy while trying to get over his ex.

And much like that time at the party, where he held you close and spent the whole night pretty much glued to your side, right in front of everyone’s eyes, you wonder if you just fulfilled your purpose in his life. 

“Shh,” the girl shushes you out of your self-destructive thoughts, still not getting any context on what happened, but being there for you anyway, “let’s just watch something, okay? We have the whole day off to ourselves, let’s watch this new anime I’ve been eyeing, what do you say?” she mumbles, seeing as you tiredly nod and she affectionately squishes your cheeks together, leading you towards the living room.

If you weren’t so numb right now, you’d even giggle. Jimin doesn’t watch anime– the amount of reality TV she watches is quite concerning sometimes– and her effort to aimlessly search through the internet for the first episode of an anime she randomly saw on Tiktok one day and thought would suit your watching style both amuses you and makes your heart warm just a little. Indulging in TV series is one of the only coping mechanisms either of you can ever come up with, it seems.

When the opening credits roll, you hear your phone’s notification sound pop up, your hand reaching for the device. You don’t even get an opportunity to look at who is texting you before your roommate snatches the phone out of your hand, swipes across the screen and turns it off with one swift motion, forcing you to focus on the animation going on the TV.

Sometimes, all you need is your caring roommate to take over everything. Today, more than ever, you’re more than willing to give yourself into her hands.

After that, you do what you think anyone in your situation would (or wouldn’t do, to be precise). You don’t text Huang Renjun random things throughout the day like you used to– you no longer laugh at weird memes he finds funny with him and you no longer read his texts that are full of random complaining, mostly about his roommate Donghyuck, throughout the day. You don’t meet him to work on the project together. It’s almost done and you still have time– you are planning on just finishing it by yourself and turning it in on the day it’s due, with no contact with the male. You also don’t call him when you’re walking home alone in the late hours of the evening, scared and yearning to find comfort in his saccharine words. You don’t even look at his messages– he sent you multiple– only letting yourself to check the contact name before you swipe the notification away without giving it much thought, making yourself ignore all of his calls the moment you hear your ringtone go off. Worst of all, you don’t even attend class anymore. You’re glad for the past you that managed to attend every single class, because now, you have more than enough absences to use up before the semester ends and you go on spring break.

You do everything in your power to erase him out of your life. It takes an admirable amount of self-control, you must admit.

And sometimes, it even feels silly. It feels stupid to react so much to seeing him with his ex girlfriend, because frankly, you two weren’t dating. No amount of touches, gentle words, hang-outs after the sun sets and intimacy means that you are a couple; it didn’t matter that you opened up to him so much when neither of you confirmed to this being inclusive. The day before you dyed his hair back, you two were just good friends, after all. Sex didn’t change anything– even though you thought it would. 

And maybe that’s what’s making you feel even more angstier about the whole thing. You gave him every last ounce of yourself you had, every inch of your body, from the inside out– so now, you feel thrown away, as if you were useless.

The cold nights slowly turn into warmer evenings, birds chirping outside waking you up in the mornings even more reminding you of the man you lost somewhere along the way. Spring was the favorite season of you both, but somewhere deep inside of you, you’re starting to dread it. Maybe it’s the fact that you were yearning for a new beginning for yourself in spring; for something to be born seemingly out of nothing– but it seems like you are supposed to bloom by yourself now, and you’re finding it harder than ever. 

It’s the beginning of the second week of March. Warm sunlight makes your feet spring up from your bed in the early morning, forcing you to take a walk. You’ve gotten used to going on these, as many call it, ‘mental health walks’ lately– you read on the internet that they help your mood, and even though it’s a slow progress, you’re willing to try anything, at this point. 

You chose a fixed destination you walk to every other day. It’s on the opposite side of the campus– where the Science buildings are– and you would be lying to yourself and everyone if you said you didn’t carefully craft the journey so you wouldn’t get in contact with the man you’ve been trying to avoid for the last two and a half weeks. It’s far away from your apartment, and even further away from his. There’s no reason for him to visit those parts of the campus, and you find comfort in the fact. 

Finding a bench under a cherry blossom tree– it’s slowly starting to wilt these days– you sit in silence for a while on some days, and on others, you put in your earphones and watch the world around you go by without you moving a single finger, trying to find comfort in the fact.

Listening to the playlist you made in the crack of dawn last night– Renjun always made fun of you for the fact that you once listed ‘making Spotify playlists’ as your hobby– you fall deep inside of your thoughts. When this happens, it’s hard to control your mind and think of something positive. The only thing left for you to do is to hope and pray you don’t spiral.

Why did it even matter so much to you anyway? It was just a kiss to his cheek. It’s not like you caught them in the act…

However, still, the image of them looking so comfortable together broke your heart; because somewhere along the way, you thought he’d always feel resentment towards the girl. She broke his trust, she made him feel worthless, and it was left for you to take all those broken pieces of him and glue them back together. You didn’t realize it back then, but just the fact that you didn’t give up on him back when he was being difficult was enough for the boy to feel at least a little better again. Your nagging, yet silent acts of meeting him somewhere in the middle, even on his worst days, was a source of comfort for him. And after a while, you started noticing that– you started noticing him warming up to you every time you met, you started noticing his gratitude towards you in the little acts of service he brought with himself when he bought you snacks or texted you if you came home safely after your meetings. 

You guess that seeing Yunjin talking so freely with him, seeing her kiss his cheek with such tenderness, made you feel so deeply, easily replaceable in his life. You guess you always feel like that with everyone anyway. It’s a bad habit you find hard to break– maybe you too, just need someone to be patient with you while you heal.

“What are you listening to?” you hear a voice, tone close to honey, ask from the place next to you. It makes you jump in terror, both from recognising it so easily and from not expecting him to find you here, so far away from everything, as you look at him with surprised eyes.

You don’t know what it is that keeps you silent. Perhaps it’s surprise. Perhaps it’s pettiness. Perhaps it’s shame. 

The feeling makes you stiff in silence, everything in you refusing to respond to his sudden casualty. “Okay, I’ll just stalk your listening activity on Spotify when I come home again, then,” he shrugs, his uninhibited demeanor making you boil inside. You feel like your insides are on fire, you feel like the whole world came crashing down on you because of mere seconds of seeing him with someone that he once held so dear to his heart, making you  feel replaced and forgotten, and yet, he comes to you so easily and doesn’t even acknowledge your hurt?

“What are you doing here?” you ask, voice soulless as you turn your music off and put your tangled earphones into your jacket pocket, finally choosing to recognise his presence. 

“Talking to you,” he shrugs, “I… brought you coffee,” he smiles, showing you the Starbucks take-out cardboard holding two drinks together, one iced americano and one caramel latte, the sight making your heart warm up quite dangerously at the thought that after all this time, he got your coffee order down, he noticed you sweetening your drinks, and he remembered.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you scoff. “How did you know I’d be here?”

The man shrugs. “I didn’t, at first. I… I came to your apartment to talk to you, but Jimin said you weren’t home, so after a few minutes of begging her to tell me where I could find you, she gave up and sent me here.”

You guess you’ll have to have a serious talk with your roommate when you come home.

“Why… why are you here, then?” you ask, still feeling the bitter pettines on your tongue when the words escape your mouth.

“Well,” he starts, taking a deep breath in, collecting his thoughts, “at first I thought I’d give you space. I thought you didn’t want to talk with anyone and you kept ignoring my texts and calls, so I texted Jimin to ask if you were okay, and when she told me you were doing fine, I figured it had to do something with me. And then– and then I thought I’d give you some space, since you looked like you needed some, but… but I think I need to face the problem now, since it’s clearly… something big, you know…” 

It’s undeniable that Huang Renjun is quite the smart individual. His ability to instantly sense your emotions and decipher the meaning behind them never fails to catch you off guard, though.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you suddenly notice the nerves he tried to mask by fake casualty. He keeps chewing on his bottom lip and he’s picking at his cuticles so hard you think they’ll bleed at any minute, his frame small and hesitant as he turns away from you, afraid to meet your eyes. He looks so, so guilty, and you suddenly feel stupid for making such a big deal out of something that shouldn’t have mattered to you in the first place.

“What… What did I do to hurt you?” he asks, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Because you must be hurt, if you’re avoiding me this much.”

Taking a deep breath in, you shake your head at the whole situation. He’s right, though– perhaps it’s time to finally face your problems now, so you can move on. Maybe this closure is what you need, maybe you need to hear it from him– to hear that it didn’t mean anything to him, to hear that Yunjin apologized and he’s gonna get back together with her, because somehow, your brain convinced you this was the case– to finally let him go and stop mourning something that was never there in the first place. “I–” 

Your words fail you.

“Do you… regret it?” he asks, voice so small you almost don’t hear him. 

The sentence takes you off guard. Looking at him, you can’t even bring yourself to speak, confused eyes roaming over his tense features. Opening up your mouth to ask for clarification, he mumbles again before you get a chance to speak. “Do you regret sleeping with me?”

Blinking at him a few times, a crease appearing in between your eyebrows, you shake your head. Is this really what was running through his brain? Is this why he left you alone for more than two weeks? Because suddenly, it makes sense– the way he gave you space and let you avoid him for two weeks before he came to find you in person– but again, this is not at all what was running through your brain all these days. Never once did you regret what you two did, no matter how shitty you’re feeling about it now after your brain convinced you of things that weren’t even real in the first place. “No,” you simply say.

A hint of relief washes over his face, his shoulders relaxing just the tiniest bit– it looks like this was what he’s been scared of the most; it looks like he feared he hurt you in this way. Still, he insists on talking it out once and for all. “What is it, then?”

Shameful to meet his eyes, you point your gaze towards your feet. Convincing yourself that your feelings are valid and that you were right to feel the way you do, the same way you did to him all those weeks ago at the stairs in front of the university building, you confess to your worries. “I saw you with Yunjin the other day.”

Now it’s his time to stay silent, and somehow, your brain can’t find a way to deal with not getting a response from him, so you ramble to cope. “At the cafeteria, I mean. I– I wanted to surprise you, and you said you were getting lunch alone and I was at the campus, so I thought I’d come to keep you company, but then… then I saw you with her, and you two seemed so comfortable together, so close, and then she kissed your cheek and it made me… it made me feel like… like you maybe wanted to get back together with her, or something…?”

“And really, it’s fine, if you want to do that, I guess I just… for the sake of both of us, or maybe just me, I think… I think it’s better for me to keep my distance from you, then.”

Watching as his expression shifts to one full of disbelief, you swear that what you want the most in this moment is to disappear. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me those past two weeks?” he asks.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, suddenly feeling insanely silly and unreasonable when you say all of those things out loud, you avert your gaze from him, pointing it somewhere into the distance. 

“Is this really it?” he asks again, insisting, full of disbelief. “You made me feel like you regretted having sex with me, and this is it?” he chuckles, and you don’t know if it’s because he’s looking down on you, or if he just truly finds the situation funny. 

“Look, I–” 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gets out, looking as if every nerve and stress in his body finally let go, relief washing over his face like waterfalls, “I was so scared, and this is what’s been bugging you?” he asks, shaking his head in disbelief as he runs his hands through his hair. “She came to apologize to me. Not that it mattered something to me, and not that it made any difference, but I didn’t have it in me to tell her to fuck herself, you know? That’s what you saw. She told me she wishes me well and that she hopes I find joy in someone else too. She didn’t even– she didn’t even sit with me at lunch. She went to eat with her boyfriend.”

And here it is– the inevitable notion of shame intensifies. Finally having the explanation you’ve been wanting to hear, but purposefully avoiding for two weeks; finally feeling relief in your chest, your worries escaping out like the summer wind, and even though you should be happy, you can’t even bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

“No, I mean– it’s just… I’m sorry too, it’s just…” he trails off, making you look at him with examining eyes, eyebrows raised in question. You don’t really know what he’s apologizing for. Maybe for leaving you space even though he was convinced that’s what you needed– had he approached you earlier, you wouldn’t have to avoid him for two weeks.

“It’s just…?”

“I find it ironic how you thought I wanted to get back together with her, when in reality… you were the one I wanted to get together with in the first place, you know?” he asks, and if you squint hard enough, you could still see hints of nervousness in his body when he asks the rhetorical question, soft eyes scanning your face when your eyes meet.

“Oh,” you hum, mouth agape in surprise.

“Yeah,” he nods, lips pressed into a thin line, “cause I like you… like, a lot, actually, so…” he mumbles, the confession reminding you of your first weeks with Renjun– tense and awkward, but with a promise of something new the more you got to know him.

“Oh,” you repeat again, your brain still not catching up to the situation.

Suddenly, the two weeks of avoidance feel even more silly. You don’t know what happened in you to cause this much distress for the both of you, but you’re filled with delight with the fact that even though you expected him to get mad at you– to call you unreasonable, maybe even a little stupid– he seems to be understanding of your emotions. He seems to accept them, willing to put up with them and everything that requires of him; he seems to be willing to find you even at the end of the world and try to get you back into his life. Because only god knows how much he appreciates your presence in it. 

“So…” he mumbles, a silent question hanging in the air, making you realize you were too caught up in your thoughts to really give him an answer.

“I… I like you too, if that… wasn’t obvious,” you snicker, shrugging as a wide smile spreads across your cheeks. The words fall a little bashfully off your tongue, the confession ringing strangely in your ears, but you don’t mind the little uncomfort the shyness in your demeanor brings you.

There are no long confessions, no deep words of love. Once again, Huang Renjun is a man of few words– he shows you his care through actions. 

He finds you when you’re avoiding him. He makes sure you get home safe. He tries hard to work with you on a project he originally wanted to avoid, only because he notices you finding interest in it, your passion slowly sparking up his. 

He keeps annoying the publicist of your favorite author for a week straight to let you make an interview with her, even though he got declined twice over an email with messages filled with bitter and annoyed words. He remembers your coffee order and he invites you to hang out with his friends to show you that you are now a part of his circle, that you are one of his close ones. He lets you make fun of him with your roommate, but doesn’t give you the same treatment he gives Donghyuck when he tries to bully him. He sends you all the cat pictures he gets from his friend Taeyong, sometimes even asking for some when he hasn’t sent you ones in too long, and he also thinks of you any time he sees the snow– because he gets reminded of the walk you two had in the midst of the snowflakes, even though you hate the cold. 

He reads your favorite book and finds pieces of you scattered all across the pages, he feels his love for you in the poetic words and metaphors hidden in the plot. He lets you dye his hair to signify that a part of his life is now over and a new one started– with you being the main actor of the subtle metamorphosis as he slowly shifts back into his old self, yet now a little wiser. 

He is a man of few words, affection coating them only sometimes, when he reassures you over a mug of hot tea in the evenings before you present your assignments in class and when you get too scared of crowded places; but somehow, the words he keeps to himself translate to you despite not being spoken.

In the beams of the warm sun, you gravitate to him like you’re two planets in the solar system, always sharing the same space. And when his smile meets yours in another kiss, you think that after all, you get the kind of new beginning you wanted in spring.

You and Huang Renjun may be the prime example that love, just like cherry blossoms, always blooms in patience. 

#nct #nct dream #renjun #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #renjun x reader #renjun fluff #renjun angst #renjun smut #renjun fic #renjun scenario #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct dream smut #huang renjun #renjun drabble #renjun fanfic

[queenie-avenue]

i think a cupid just shot my heart as i read abt yan! barista!! I have a what if, where reader was pressured by their friends egging them to find someone that they made a slip of tongue and accidentally claimed and said they found someone, resulting in havoc in the group chat with their friends bombarding them with questions abt the newly found someone that reader actually doesnt have

and planning a meet-up asap the next day for readers friends to meet the someone

Soooo she runs off to Minoru asking a favor for him to be their *pretend* boyfriend for the meet-up or perhaps until he manages to woo reader into making him their real lover

Fake it till you make it.

💌 ⤻ THE BARISTA, AKIMITSU MINORU

—> helping you, but you didn't want it.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, implied stalking (but let's be fr, he did stalk), non-consensual kissing, fake-dating technically, mentions of arctic monkeys because I was playing it on spotify lol

notes: oh my god anon, i love you so much. i was actually so sad when there wasn't much interaction with the yandere barista and i'm so glad you liked it! i hope you like this! mwah! <333

💌 ⤻ archives.

You only had one friend group, which you always took pride in. As you said, it wasn't the quantity of friends you had, but rather the quality of the people you surround yourself with. Despite their flaws, you did think that your friends were a swell group of people who simply wanted the best for you.

However, it was a problem right now because you only had one friend group, nobody else could masquerade as your boyfriend to your other friends.

You could barely sleep last night as they bombarded you with questions, asking you about your supposed lover and how the both of you met and an impromptu scheduling of your friends meeting you and your boyfriend.

You suggested neko no aishi for some reason as you thought of who would be able to be your ideal boyfriend, someone you and your friends would approve of.

Your cheeks flushed as you thought of the barista manning the counter everyday.

You shook your head as you decided that you would be a good person and fess up to your friends.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

“That's basically what happened.” You muttered as you grabbed your cup of coffee from Minoru's hands, looking up at him with the most pathetic expression you had ever shown him.

He chuckled softly. “You know,” he started as he always did, “being single is not a really big deal. You have your entire life to find the one you love.” He said as he looked you up and down. “It doesn't need to be now.” He said as he leaned across the counter, getting extremely close to you, an innocent smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I know. But I feel like I'll never find the one.” You muttered. “All my dates have ended in disaster, somehow. Just the other week, one of the guys vomited when we were walking around the street. He hadn't even eaten anything. I'm starting to think it's my perfume.” You said, attempting to make the sad situation at least somewhat funny.

“I think your perfume is just right.” Minoru said, barely above a whispered as his hands tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You flushed the deepest shade of red as his black eyes raked all over yours.

He wasn't wearing his contact lenses today, you noted, sipping your cup of coffee.

“Why not I pretend to be your boyfriend?”

The statement had caused you to sputter out your drink, staining your skin brown as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I mean, it would be quite easy.” He chuckled. “I've been a boyfriend before.” He humoured you.

“I couldn't possibly expect that of you. Plus, you have so many things to do around here. And well, I can't keep lying to my friends that you're my boyfriend, can I?” You said as you moved away from the counter, just in time so you did not hear his, ‘it doesn't need to be a lie’.

When your friends arrive, you puff out your chest and get ready to tell them the truth as they question you about the whereabouts of your rumoured boyfriend.

Just as you were about to speak, a tray was placed in front of your friends, all with adorably decorated lattes that had the signature cat of the café plastered on. “Sorry I'm late,” Minoru smiled sheepishly as he served your friends. “I was preparing some drinks for all of you.” He smiled as he took a seat next to you, wrapping his hands around your delicate waist, pulling you in as you gasped. You shot him a look, eyes widening at just what he was trying to do.

“Is he really your boyfriend?” One of your friends quipped, just as shocked as you were at this sudden development.

“Yep.” He smiled, bowing to them respectfully before turning to face you, his dark eyes boring into you. “[y/n] told me so much about all of you. I’m so happy to meet you guys.” He chuckled, acting like the perfect boyfriend that all of your friends would approve of.

“Oh is that an arctic monkeys keychain?” He asked as he began to initiate conversation with all your friends, surprisingly good at being able to pick up about what they all liked.

You couldn’t tell if he was just that good, or if he been doing research.

That was a stupid thought. How could he even do that?

“Well, I have to head back to work, but enjoy the coffee. It’s all on me.” He said as he leaned close to you. “See you later, dear.” He smiled before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, that left you even more dumbfounded. You savoured the taste of mint chapstick on Minoru’s lips, how his lips matched yours perfectly, how you felt his lips quirk up when he realised you weren’t doing anything to deny him of your lips. He pulled away, his thumb grazing his lips with a grin. Hus thumb was somehow warmer than his lips, or was that just you? Your cheeks heated up as he even wiped the stain of coffee from your lips.

Your friends squealed the moment he left, complimenting your ‘boyfriend’. You practically went with the flow as you felt dizzy, still confused about the kiss.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

“Why did you do that?” You questioned, practically gasping for air, still breathless after that kiss.

“I wanted to help you.” He said as he closed up the cafe casually as you remained red-faced and anxious.

“You didn’t need to, I already told you that I didn’t want to bother you.”

Minoru led you out as he locked the cafe for the day. “It wasn’t a bother. Trust me.” He smiled before leaning back down to give you another kiss, this time more sensual as he bit your lip before fully letting you go.

“Get home safe.” He smiled, leaving you there in the middle of the street and smouldering afternoon heat.

Soon, that fake boyfriend thing would not be so fake after all. He planned on it.

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere blog #yandere drabble #yandere male x reader #yandere x reader #anon ask #male yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #yandere fic #yandere barista #male yandere

[antighst]

i’m gonna write my take on simon & his civilian gf ☹️☹️ i also have a big thing abt simon dating a teacherrrr it’s so sweet!!!

summary simon & his civilian gf

tags fluff, sweet tooth rotting fluff, soft simon, teacher!reader, opposites attract & soulmate tropes! size difference 🙁 awkward!simon, protective!simon, kid talk, pregnancy, AFAB!reader, extremely soft simon. 2 or 3 nsfw scenes, sub-ish!simon, dom!simon

not proof read

— when you first met simon that one day at a library it was simple and sweet, he was looking for a murder mystery thriller and you were shopping for the next book to read to your class.

you hummed dragging your finger on the spines of the books. you weren’t paying attention when you turned the corner bumping into a wall? person.

“oh my god. i’m so sorry!” you apologized pushing yourself away from the man’s chest. your eyes trailing up his body.

he looked down at you holding his arm out as a reflex to make sure you were okay. “ah, you’re all good.” and he offered you a small smile.

his accent. so pretty. “uhh—“

“by any chance do you know where the thrillers are?”

“oh uhm, yes!”

he followed you through the bookstore, your hair swinging as you made your way to the section of books. “you were on the complete opposite side of the store.” you laughed pointing at the books.

“you have a kid?” he asked backing up a bit, trying to respect your personal space.

“no, i’m a teacher. i was looking for a book to read to them.”

he nodded, his eyebrows raising. his eyes focusing on how you dressed and looked.

you laughed awkwardly, “i’m gonna go—“

“sorry. god uhm. would you like to get coffee? i mean you don’t have to. i don’t know i—“

“i would love to.”

— before you two started dating he told you his career, telling you he’d understand if you didn’t want that. but you reassured him that you would never leave him for that.

“si, i understand. and i understand you might be gone months at a time. it’s gonna suck, yes, but, i’d wait for you forever if i have to.”

he smiled widely at you cupping your cheeks bringing your lips to his. “you’re so perfect for me.”

— the day you moved in with him you noticed he got a lot more protective than before.

“baby. i’m just going to the store and you’re sick. you need to rest.”

“no, i don’t want you to go alone.” he grabbed your wrists keeping you in the bed next to him

you frowned, facing him “what’s wrong si? you do this every time i need to go out.” you climbed onto his lap, your hands resting on his chest. “talk to me.”

“i don’t know. i just. i don’t know.” his hands made their way to the small of your back, keeping you close to him. “i don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“nothings going to happen to me.”

“okay.” he sounded unconvinced.

“if anything. i should be scared every time you go on those missions. i don’t know how i survived without you for so long.” you laughed, bringing your lips to his neck leaving little pecks here and there.

“i’m gonna get you sick.” simon grabbed your face making you look up at him. a mischievous smile spreading across your lips.

“i.. don’t care.” and then kissed his lips. your hands made their way to his hair, one of his hands on your back the other resting on your stomach. “i have to go get you your medicine now.”

he didn’t let you go trailing his kisses down to your shoulders “okay.”

— the talk about kids terrified him. he was scared risking your life with how many enemies he has let alone a baby, his baby.

“you want to try for a.. baby?” he asked retracting his hand from your waist.

“yes.” you frowned, missing his touch, “simon, i want kids. i want that feeling of caring for my own.” you told him.

“i— uh— okay.” he didn’t want to make the same mistakes his dad did. he didn’t want to ruin this kids life like his dad ruined his own. “okay. okay. i want that life with you, lovie. i want the feeling of coming home to a family.” he smiled “our family.” a fake smile.

you knew he was only saying what you wanted to hear. “okay simon. i’m gonna go to bed when i wake up or sometime tomorrow you’re gonna tell me why you don’t actually want that with me. i want a genuine answer. not what i want to hear” you said putting air quotes on the last ‘want’.

he stared at you grabbing your pillow and blanket making your way to the living room. shit.

the next morning you found simon sleeping on your side of the bed his whole body curled up hugging himself. when he woke up to you making breakfast that next morning he washed his face scrubbing his eyes hoping you wouldn’t notice his puffy eyes.

when you saw his tired walk out of the room to the kitchen your heart broke a bit, his hands grabbing onto your hips bring your back into his chest. “i want that life with you, trust me.”

“please simon.” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“i don’t know if i can though. i want it but i can’t have it. i’m so scared. i’m scared you’d get hurt while i’m out on the field and i just don’t know if i can handle that with my own kid.” he started getting that hurting feeling in his throat, “i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you or our family got hurt.”

“whenever you’re ready simon.”

he smiled into your hair, closing his eyes savoring this moment between you two. “okay.”

— the first time you took control in bed he was like putty in your hands. he did everything you wanted and more.

he lay down his hands gripping onto your hips for dear life. “oh god. please please please please—!” he begged his voice raspy. his hands moving everywhere on his body trying to stabilize himself.

“just wait a second baby boy.” you hummed resting your body on his chest, obviously tired, still moving your hips he moaned into your hair, then bit your shoulder muffling those sounds.

“i can’t —oh my— hold it anymore. pleaseee!”

you hummed sweet nothings into his ear and nodded letting him come undone in you. his arms wrapping around your back drawing shapes on your back.

when you moved to sit up, he groaned not moving his hands “not yet.”

you nodded closing your tired eyes and resting your head on his chest right below his chin. you both drifted off into sleep. when you woke up you had a shirt on and a pair of underwear, a large arm around your waist and soft snores into your back.

— dom simon was still such a sweetie just… a lot rougher than just simon.

“holy shit.” he groaned. his thumb making its way to your clit drawing lazy circles. “mm you feel s’good baby.”

you were tired but he never told you to stop so you sucked up the pain in your legs and continued to ride him “simon. i can’t.” you pleaded stopping your movements.

he looked up at you, your eyebrows furrowed, chest heaving. “did i say you could stop?”

you shook your head, and tried to continue to move but your legs hurt too much. “i can’t si. they hurt.”

“aww is my sweet thing tired?” he hummed. “you want it you have to do it yourself. i can’t always do all the work.”

you groaned moving your hips again. simon sat up bringing his lips to yours. “you’re doing s’good for me lovie.”

you moaned at the praise not stopping until you both came undone. your body crashed into his catching your breath.

“you did so good baby. so so so good.” he praised you massaging your thighs. he lifted you up then grabbed a shirt and underwear for you, a shirt and boxers for him. he walked out of the room earning a cry from you.

“sorry baby, i needed to grab a wash cloth.” he said and wiped between your legs, leaving little kisses on the inside of your thighs.

he helped you into your underwear and your shirt. once he was done cleaning himself you grabbed his wrist pulling him on top of you. “i love you si.”

#ghost riley #cod mw ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #x reader

[mandowifey]

MKAY SO WE ALL KNOW ABT AL'S CHEST RIGHT??? Idk why but it looks so smooth-

Anyways how would it go if the reader just straight on tells him that she's obsessed with his man tits?

Anon. This made me ugly laugh at 11 at night. Thank you for this.

○ ○ ○

Fancy You.

Albert Shaw/The Grabber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: General Dead Dove, you're kidnapped by a lunatic, Stockholm Syndrome, Implied NonCon, NSFW content.

(This was not proofed.)

• • •

Time crawled to a halt in this place.

You weren't sure if it was weeks, maybe months since your abduction. When you started scratching lines into the cement walls, you had lost track of the hours that passed. Oftentimes, you couldn't recall if you already marked a day, which meant your count could be wrong or missing altogether. Right now, you stood at 27.

'This place' was a basement. You had taken to thinking of it like your coffin. It was a cold, dark, all-encompassing tomb, which you and many more would die within. Sometimes, you wondered how many before you left their own scratches on the wall. There was no evidence of others, which roused concerns that none of them lasted long enough to count their days. You considered if you were his first, or perhaps his last. Neither option felt palpable.

He collected you around the evening, as usual. Punishment this time had felt less brutal and more sensual, as the welts from his belt bloomed on the flesh of your ass and thighs instead of your back and arms. Hand prints marred your throat and wrists as reminders of your place here. Somewhere between your legs resides something sticky and warm. As you wade through the fog in your mind, you return to consciousness as your captor rocks against you.

'Good girl, m-my good girl.'

A brush of silicone against your throat made your head drop back. Large hands palmed your hips, guiding your flacid body into his. Gasps came quick and muffled behind his mask as he ruts against you, the drag of his girth leaving streaks of precum on your thighs. Each jerk of his body loosened a couple more of your mental screws. Maybe you didn't hate this at all. Maybe you'd always wanted to feel needed.

The man groans something low and guttural in your ear, his fingers bruising your hips as heat spills over your soft thighs. Revulsion fills your stomach like acid, but you can not bring yourself to shed another tear. As his grip loosens, he begins to move you off of his lap and have you stand. He liked to look at you, bloody and broken while covered in his cum. To him, you were a masterpiece meant to admire.

"Look at you," His voice is soft in stark comparison to the brutality in which he took you. "My perfect little dove."

The kitchen floor is cold on your feet, and you feel something in your chest. Perfect, you think, his.

Maybe...

"I like your chest," you say suddenly. Time grinds to a stop, and you are hardly breathing. "It's smooth, nice to look at." Who was this speaking for you? Or perhaps this voice had been there all along, waiting for its chance. The fog in your brain makes you lethargic. Your head felt weighted as it rolled in his direction, your eyes on the sockets of that devilish mask. He was frozen in place, watching you.

Standing up, the man you only knew as Mister towers over you and breathes hard. Fingers cup your chin and pull your face up to look at him. It was difficult to keep your eyes open as consciousness rattled around in your head like loose stones. At this distance, you can see the glean of those predatorial blue eyes.

"What else?"

You blink and try to focus your attention.

"What else?" He says again, his large hand encompassing your jaw in a painful squeeze.

At a loss, you gawk up at him and frantically try to discern what you're being asked. He moves you backward by your jaw until you touch the counter. You gasped as you're lifted by the hips and placed on the edge, legs forced apart so he could slot between them. Slowly, you start to understand. He must not ever receive compliments, certainly not from his victims. You had caught him off guard and thrilled him. You could tell by the way he was already hard again.

The man drags the weeping tip of his cock along your crease and pulls another noise from your throat. As he angles to drive inside of you, he brings that large hand to your throat and presses into the flesh.

"What else do you like about me, kiddo?"

#ethan hawke #albert shaw #x reader #albert shaw headcannon #albert shaw headcanon #albert shaw x you #the grabber x you #the grabber headcanon #the grabber headcanons #the black phone #albert shaw x reader #the grabber x reader

[imrllytootiredforthis]

cy i have so many ideas its crazy 😭😭

when i was in high school i hated my chemistry classes 💀💀but now when i think about it... yk in some classrooms especially where biology and chemistry classes are held there is a small room attached to them like a storeroom? where they have all the equipment and supplies ? lmao this is already so long but i just needed to describe it, it gets better i promise

so like yesterday i randomly remembered one of my chemistry classes and suddenly i thought abt soob in those glasses like you know, the black ones ..him in a doctor's coat and..the other students are in class totally unaware of what two new teachers are doing in the storeroom😋😋damn just,, making out w him all while having ur knee between his crotch?? ordering him to be quiet or else everyone will find out what a slut their new chem teacher is (he'd secretly love it, we all know the boy is a slut for degradation and humiliation)😔he'd whimper soso much he wants more and he needs more, he's so riled up,, practically drooling but the fact that he can't have u fuck the brains out of him now makes him practically cry and beg to stop,, the pleasure is too much to handle☹️☹️(u could literally swear at him😭😭i bet he'd let out a couple of moans at that😴)

PLS THIS IS SO LONG,,,i couldn't stop myself cause begging soob>> idk whats gotten into me lately but ig i have a tiny thing for exhibitionism?😩😩no but fr its so hot?

p.s. im glaad ur here for the weekend 😭😭i'll patiently wait for ur official comeback ❣️

i saw this right when i woke up...and jesus, i love you so, so much because😵‍💫😵‍💫

are you, by chance talking abt this soob?...

him in a white lab coat😵‍💫😵‍💫

okay, okay

class started 10 minutes ago. the students are confused, checking the time, emailing their two new teachers to the class, some are even straight-up leaving, muttering about a waste of time

most stay, wondering if they just forgot or got stuff in traffic or something else

completely unaware to the fact that in the little storage closet off to the side of the room...

their pretty professor is shoved up against the wall, pinned with his arms beside his head, lip tugged between his teeth, panting and whining as he grinds down on your knee.

god, he's so needy, trying to quietly beg for more, gasping at the feeling of your teeth grazing his neck

"y'know, this isn't very professional professor choi," you start, pulling away, too composed when all he can do is let out the neediest little mewl, trying to reach his high while tears form in his eyes.

"d-don't care!" he tries to pull his hands away, cup himself and get the stimulation you're just barely giving him but your grip is iron strong, smile all too teasing and all too mean. "just m-make me feel good! please, wan', wan' you to fuck me!"

you press your thigh up against him hard. "right when all of our students are just outside, huh? want them to know that their professor is in here getting fucked like a slut?"

the moan he lets out is nothing less than completely ruined and very, very loud, reverberating through the small room in a way that would've been so hot if not where you were

his hand is free suddenly, as you slap a hand over his mouth, his eyes going wide. "shut up, you slut," you hiss,

the tears fall and you can feel drool building up behind your hand, he can't help himself, his head going on overdrive, his free hand gripping the bottom of your leg, fucking himself desperately against it.

"please, please, please," he whimpers, words garbled against your hand. "more, need more!"

#inbox💌 #soobin smut #sub soobin #sub!soobin #txt smut #sub txt #sub!txt #hard thoughts #txt hard thoughts #dom reader #dom!reader #d7dream<3 #ideas👀

[sugar-omi]

TRANS MASC COVE TRANS MASC COVE (sfw +nsfw hcs pls,, id love your thoughts)

NO BC NOW YOU'VE PUT THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD N I NEED HIM DESPERATELY eta while im in the middle of writing: after this i... i can no longer hold onto my fem!cove thoughts. n i am eating up trans!cove like a starving ANIMAL.

tags : SFW + NSFW, transmasc (ftm) cove, switch cove/reader, some mentions of body/gender dysmorphia, im sure theres 1 transphobe walking around sunset bird so the smallest mention of that clown

SFW

i've been seeing a lotta top surgery scar tattoos on my twt timeline lately, and pls some of them i need for myself bc they're so!!!! pretty!!!!

so i can definitely see him getting tattoos there

not because he wants to cover em up, i just think he sees so many flash sheets over time that he's SOLD

mmm i wanna say that fem/afab!cove would have small boobs

or B cups at most

either way, i almost wanna say that his boobs before surgery wouldn't bother him as much unless someone was sexualizing him or he was exercising n his boobs were bouncing too much or smth like that

even then its usually complaints of, "ugh, this bra isn't supportive..." or something like that

ofc he still has his moments

i also think he only binds sometimes, rarely

doesn't do it often since it's often hot outside, or especially if he's sporty, its uncomfortable

(also looked it up just to be sure) but since he's always on the beach its inconvenient/unnecessary to wear if he can't wear it in the water

but like i said i think he'd be pretty flat/small anyway, so i think he's okay

mm definitely doesn't give up having long hair, or wearing the occasional dress/skirt ofc

but will correct one of the old sunset bird residents if they try and say "see honey, it was a phase, you're wearing a dress today!"

also idk abt yall, n this is more of a general thought, but i feel like step 2 cove's impulse control is. deathly low.

so one day, he has long/long-ish hair

and the next he has a mullet, wolf cut, or buzz cut.

he's so chaotic to me pls

now i've had fem!cove on my mind for weekssss now

so i'm not just saying this

but cove is still buff

thick muscly thighs, NICE ARMS. REALLY NICE ARMS

mm so i feel like he looks pretty androgynous or masc anyway

now im projecting here.

but cove has irregular periods, n they're pretty heavy most the time

or lasts awhile (ok im done projecting. sorry cove</3)

also think he deals with cramps (IM SORRY COVE)

i think his period is the biggest trigger of his body/gender dysmorphia too

although i think fem!cove would hate her period anyway altho tbf who doesnt

he'd definitely appreciate some comfort!!!

bring him another heating pad, your comfiest hoodie or blanket and snacks

he's very happy for the thoughtfulness and the company

step 2 cove would definitely be moved by such thoughtfulness... he's in tears

so after the first time it's a trend to spend time together in his bed, watching movies or something while he's cuddled into your side or next to you in a cove-rrito, all sleepy n comfy...

NSFW

had to stop writing the SFW to write this bc i had a thought

cove laid out all pretty... his chest rising and falling and he's all teary eyed as you're between his legs, eating his cunt until he's seeing stars.

pls his cunt with be so sensitive, and he'd be so pretty to fuck

would shake so much too

his thighs quivering so bad he clamps around your hand

you'd have to hold his legs up so he doesn't nearly flatten your head between his thick thighs

"y/n!" cove cries, his hands tangled in your hair and he's trying so hard not to squish your head between his thighs, but your tongue is flat against his sensitive clit, sucking and bullying the poor button while your fingers make a loud, sloppy mess of his hole.

he whines, hips shaking in your hands.

you tighten your grip on his waist, your fingers digging into the flesh, grumbling irritably around his clit but cove just cries out a loud moan and slurred word, torn between your name, a cuss word, and a cry for god.

you pull of his clit, your fingers still curling against that spongy spot inside his sloppy walls. "stay still, you're gonna crush my head..." you start to kiss his thighs, small kisses turning into you sucking deep hickeys into his tan skin, and that turning into biting.

cove gasps for air, his eyes fluttering closed as he squirms.

"fuck, y/n, please..." he mumbles, tugging at the bedsheets.

you stop the assault on his thighs, leaning up on your elbows so you can give cove a kiss, your lips lazily moving together...

anyway... horny aside for a moment<333

mm i could see cove not getting or really wanting bottom surgery

i think trans cove would be pretty comfortable with his body's appearance overall

and he's probably read into it a lot since it's not like he hasn't thought about it, i could just see him probably deciding its not something he wants

ARGGHH HE'D BE A DEMON WITH THE STRAP THOUGH

ahh. cove holding you down or folding your legs against your chest while he slams his hips against yours...

his strap hitting your poor prostate / cervix, he'd coo about how cute your whines are and that you're making him leak

would definitely upset he can't fill you up w cum

especially if you wanna get pregnant, rambles about how much he wishes he could fill you up with his cum again and again and again...

arghhh fuck imma lose my MIND

definitely takes advantage of those squirting dildos

can at least admire how you look oozing milky lube

omfg definitely wakes up all excited to tell you if he dreamed about it too...

has an array of straps

we already know he has a tentacle dildo or two deep in his closet...

yeah tries them out on you

"don't get tired yet, i have one more.. and it has a knot!!!"

he just likes to experiment on you a little~~ bit <333

ohh please tell him he looks handsome/sexy while you're giving him head

he'll die.

FUCK HE'D GO CRAZY IF YOU RIDE HIM TOO I KNOW IT

yeah he's still the same cute, secretly horny, big crybaby pookie <3333 i love him pls

#olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden x reader #cove holden #smut #cove x reader #cove x mc #cove our life #cove holden smut #cove holden x mc

[cyberrose2001]

my time has come. *rubs hands together*

i rlly hope this is allowed but... okok so op comes back from a mission/patrol or whatever, a little bit injured. like he needs to stay in the medical bay for a bit. fem!reader is very obviously worried abt their beloved op and refuses to leave his side, even after ratchet confirms that op is just fine. right right so then it's late at night and after ratchet is used to reader sleeping beside op, he wishes them goodnight and leaves the medbay for the night. op and reader are cuddling and op decides to reassure his conjunx that he's okay with some tender loving care, in the form of sexual activities aka fuckin on his very own bed.

TFP Optimus x fem!Reader

I feel like I could’ve written this better, but I’m sore and in pain from my monthly’s (my uterus is killing me slowly), but regardless, I hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: AFAB reader, fem reader, human reader, mentions of pain/death, reader tops OP in the med bay, general smut.

Word count: 1563

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

“You scare me too much. You know that, right?”

It was starting to become more and more common. Optimus would be out in the field doing what he does best, kicking Decepticons aft first and taking names later. Well, honestly, it’s the other way around. Your mech always had a way with words, but occasionally, those words bite back.

Optimus is injured. Again. Though nothing too significant, as assessed by Ratchet, it’s still enough to send your heart into a frenzy of anxiety and dread. Your mind always anticipates the next time he comes back through that ground bridge, it will be his last. Injuries too severe for him to heal from.

But Optimus, the ever-persevering mech he is, is convinced that you have healing hands.

“I know,” He smiles, it’s reassuring, but you can see the small winces he tries to hide when you glide your hands across his dented chassis, “And I am genuinely sorry for it.”

“You always say that,” You exhale under your breath, resting your head under his chin, “One day, you’re never gonna come back to me, and sorry’s won’t make up for it.”

His vents hitch. Your words were harsh, like a blunt knife. And akin to being stabbed, Optimus is painfully aware of the risks every time he steps foot on the battlefield. He wonders what life he would leave you if he never returned, but the mere thought of that pains him more than a sharp edge.

“I know,” Optimus closes his eyes, and his smile falters, letting his servos trail delicate lines along your spine, “But I am fine. There is no need for you to bare my wounds; your solicitude is unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary? Optimus, I lay awake every night when you’re not in berth with me,” You scoff in disbelief, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve cried myself to sleep because I’m so scared you’re never gonna… god damn it, I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t.”

Optimus watches as tears roll down your cheeks. He moves a servo from your back to gently wipe them away, “You’ll never lose me. That is a promise I will always keep.”

You bite back a sob and lean your head into his servo, “You better, but still, you’re hurt.”

“Only temporarily, if not at all,” He hums, the servo stroking your back creeping down to loosely cup your ass, “But if you still need reassurance, I am happy to demonstrate my optimal health.”

You feel a digit push behind the hem of your pants, and you know precisely what your mech is asking for.

“Optimus, there’s no way,” You wipe the rest of your tears away before pushing yourself up to straddle his pelvis, “If you hadn’t noticed, we’re in the med bay, and you’re in no shape to have sex.”

“You underestimate me,” Optimus purrs, and fuck; he’s squeezing your ass so nicely, “What better way to reassure my love that I am fine than by fragging them?”

You bite your lip and weigh your options. You both might get caught by Ratchet and risk not looking him in the optics again or have amazing earth-shattering sex with Optimus, but risk hurting him. You glance at his face again, and you shouldn’t have because optics have dimmed with pure arousal.

You gulp, “Are you sure?”

Optimus tugs down your pants, now hanging loosely at your ankles. He leans up and kisses your shoulder, “Undoubtedly.”

He’s pulling your underwear down now, and it seems that your body has decided for you because you’re utterly drenched. Fuck it.

“Forgive me, Ratchet.” You lean forward and collide your lips with your lover. Optimus returns the kiss with equal enthusiasm, grunting as you push your tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own.

During the breathless kiss, Optimus pushes his servo between your body, pressed against his own. He runs a digit along your wet slit, and you can feel his shutter against your mouth. He pushes a digit inside, and you let a desperate moan slip.

“So wet for me already,” He breaks the kiss and pumps his digit slowly, “Remove the remainder of your garments, please.”

You oblige, sitting upright again, and, in turn, pushes the digit further inside you. You struggle to rip your shirt and bra off as you feel him curling against your g-spot, throwing them somewhere off to the side.

“Please, Optimus.” You shiver and lean your arm back to paw at his interfacing panel, which feels ready to burst, “Let’s be -fuck- quick.”

He withdraws his servo from underneath you, and it glistens under the surgical lamps with your fluids and leaves you longing for something to fill you. With the same servo, he fumbles with his interfacing panel and unlatches it, spike pressurising against your back.

You ready yourself over his weeping spike, a hand splayed on his abdomen and one wrapped around his spike. Biting your lip, you press his tip inside and push your hips down as far as possible. You moan at the fullness, lip quivering once you’ve fully sheathed yourself around him.

Optimus grunts at your fluttering walls and moves to grip your hips, massaging your flesh to keep himself under control. His optics flicker to your eyes, “Remember, be silent if you wish not to alert the others.”

You nod and slowly lift your hips, slamming them back down, and choke. Optimus rarely lets you ride his spike, preferring to top and fuck you himself. But god, every time you do feels better than the last. The feeling of every little bump and groove along his thickness is pleasurable beyond imaginable, and you’re finding it harder to keep quiet.

Optimus’ grip on your hips tightens, and before long, he’s guiding you to slam down on himself more forcefully. The only sounds filling the med bay are the lewd echoes of flesh against metal and your combined hushed whimpers.

Your lover groans, optics trained on your soft body bouncing on his throbbing spike. He loves the way your breasts and stomach jiggle every time your hips meet his own. And fuck, he can feel his impending overload.

Optimus reaches his arms around your back and forces you to lie plush against him, and before you can protest, he covers your mouth with a servo.

“Shhh, you wish for me to be quick, hmm?” Optimus growls lowly, readjusting his hips underneath you.

You nod and moan against his palm, wiggling your hips for more friction. He satisfactorily hums.

“Well, you must be quiet,” Optimus rolls his hips upwards slowly, “If not, and we are discovered, I will not hesitate to use a gag next time. Are we clear?”

Well, now you know for sure that Optimus is fine; his dominant side is showing off. It always creeps out of him when he is nearing overload, which means lying down and taking it. And you fucking love it.

Optimus removes his servo covering your mouth and returns it to wrap around your back. His hips start slow before transitioning into a break-neck pace, and the force causes your head to rest on his chassis.

“Oh fuck,” You whine softly. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you bring your hand to your mouth to bite the flesh of your palm, a pathetic attempt to silence yourself. His spike hits deeper than before, hips craned at the perfect angle to rub against your g-spot.

Optimus’ restrained moans emanating from his chassis vibrate your skull, “So warm and tight, I’m sure you’re enjoying this, needing to keep quiet, hmm?”

“Yesss,” You whisper, only loud enough so he can hear you above the wet sounds of his thick spike entering you, “I wanna cum… please.”

Optimus groans and kisses the top of your head, thrusts his hips into you harder, “Frag, you’re so good for me. Overload then.”

That’s all it took before a white-hot flash of pleasure explodes in your lower stomach, tight walls clench around him like a vice as your orgasm shakes your body. Your teeth clamped on your palm loosen, and your jaw drops in a silent scream, taking all your strength to suppress your vocal cords as Optimus pushes himself to the hilt, hot trans fluid shooting up into your sore pussy.

You move your head to look up at him, and by the Primes, does he look gorgeous. His jaw is clenched, and his optics are screwed shut in utter euphoria. And the most admirable thing is that he didn’t even make a sound. You make a mental note to applaud him for it later.

You feel his arms loosen against your back as he spurts the last of his trans fluids inside you, dripping out onto the gurney below, a concoction of your combined fluids that will most likely need multiple rags to clean up.

Optimus unclenches his jaw, and an ungodly amount of smoke shoots out of his exhausts. He looks down at you and gives you a soft smile, venting raggedly.

“Was that enough proof that I am fine?” He whispers, cupping your face to give you a breathless yet passionate kiss.

You hun into the kiss before releasing from it, “I suppose so,” You turn your head to observe the sheer amount of fluids coating Optimus’ hips and the gurney, “But let’s clean up before Ratchet kills us.”

#transformers prime #transformers prime x reader #tfp #tfp optimus #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus x human reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

[refiwrites]

Can you do arguements with loak, neteyam, and rotxo please

since im sick rn and feeling terrible and in need of content of our avatar boys, i give you this

Arguments (Neteyam, Lo'ak, and Rotxo)

GIFs used for Neteyam and Lo'ak are not mine, credits to the rightful owners! Whilst the GIF used for Rotxo is mine.

N e t e y a m

Thinking abt it now, I think there would be little to no arguments w this man 💀 I mean he is the perfect child, is he not? Well, you do have arguments but often times it wouldn't be that deep? I have a feeling he's too understanding that everytime you begin something, he's already defused it lmao

You would be the one initiating arguments tbh

For Neteyam, I think most of your arguments would stem from you just trying to watch out/care for him. The pressure of being the future Olo'eyktan often gets to him that he forgets to take care of himself and you'd be there reminding him to breathe.

"No, stop your sweet-talking!" you were really being serious, yet your other half wasn't.

"My love, I have to do this, it is for us. For our future, no?" Neteyam says, walking over to you and placing his hands on your shoulders, that damned playful smile on his face.

The thought made your insides run wild. "The future can wait, you can stay here for now. And tell me, when was the last time you ate?"

Neteyam blinks back, thinking.

"That's what I thought, you aren't getting out of here until I say so."

"Wait— fine."

L o ' a k

Well, we all know Lo'ak is reckless, always doing things without thinking.

You know he means well with his actions, but sometimes you just wished he would think things through!

As much as you didn't like to be another one of the people scolding him, you couldn't help it when he literally walked in one day in your tent, gashes and bruises littering his face and arm.

"What were you thinking?" You said, you knew Lo'ak probably had this phrase said to him for the hundredth time.

He stayed silent.

"You're stupid, did you know that?" You hiss, sitting him down and you began to take his armor and face paint off.

"Too many times." He replied, which you felt bad. So you sighed, carefully cupping his face and making him look at you.

"As much as I'd like to argue with you right now, I still have to patch you up. But please, Lo'ak, the next time you do something... Think it through."

"Yeah.. Sorry.."

"You promise?"

"Promise."

R o t x o

Can we take a few minutes just to appreciate the gif because hello LOOK HOW CUTE HE IS

Hm since we don't know much alot abt Rotxo this will be difficult.

But we know that he knows his limitations for making fun of someone, and that he's very truly a genuine, caring person.

I feel like he loves to joke around and stuff w everybody including you but I also feel like he made a joke one time abt you that you really didn't like or you just weren't in the mood and you kinda took it personally.

You didn't talk to him for like- what- two days max? Cause how can you resist him really when he's trying to catch your attention the whole day while his face looks like this 🥺 reincarnated? HELP

"(Y/N)... (Y/N)."

Wanting to shove his face in the sand already, you resist, plucking the berries from the bush and placing them in your bowl.

You just about remember why the two of you were acting like this in the first place.

It was from a joke that Rotxo made.

Now you didn’t exactly remember what the very joke was but you knew you were pissed off that day, and the way his joke pertained to you made something in you snap as he was laughing.

Now that led to here, with you ignoring him. Honestly you didn't know how you lasted a almost a day and a half without talking to him since the two of you were inseperable from the moment he met you and your siblings.

You didn't realize you were frozen in place as his voice spoke up again.

"(Y/N)..?"

"What?!" You finally answered, snapping your head back to look at him.

He visibly swallowed, eyes squinting at your sudden reply. He moves forward though, moving beside you and kneeling next to you.

"I'm sorry."

"Took you long enough."

"Eh? But you were ignoring m—"

"Okay, okay I forgive you." You said. As soon as your words registered in Rotxo's head, you saw the way his whole face lit up, his nose scrunching in the process, almost melting your heart.

"Really?" He asked again, smiling.

"Yes, would you like me to change my mind?"

"No! No definitely not!" He quickly said, gesturing as if that was going to prevent you from doing so.

But you didn't change your mind.

You couldn't, not when he pulls out an armband he made for you, as a sign of peace.

#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan x reader #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan x reader #lo'ak x reader #neteyam x reader #rotxo #lo'ak sully #neteyam sully #neteyam imagines #neteyam #lo'ak #lo'ak imagines #rotxo x reader #avatar rotxo #rotxo imagines #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar the way of water one shots #avatar the way of water imagines #avatar way of water #avatar way of water x reader #pandora avatar #pandora #avatar the way of water #atwow rotxo #atwow x reader #x reader #refiwrites #imagines #fanfiction

[imonanotherlebel]

Heey, i saw ur asks r open and i think i might need smtng abt hoshi or woozi helping their s/o coping with life stress fam stuff university and work at same time cuz i feel exhausted and i'm serious need of a delulu tap on my shoulder

Thanks✨

Oooooo I love this ask, babes. Let me write about Hoshi. I hope it's okay!

Personal note to anon: I hope you're doing okay babes. Life is very stressful and hard. But I want you to know that every storm ends eventually, and a beautiful time will come by soon. Hang in there!<3❤️

Genre: Tooth rotting fluff with abhint of angst.

Requested: I feel like Hoshi would step up and take all your life stress away as a partner. Like, he is such a sweetheart omg my heart! 😭❤️

Pairing: Hoshi x reader

Warnings: Mentions of food, i guess? WARNING, LOT OF LOVE AHEAD!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hoshi breezed into your shared apartment, a playful glint in his eyes, ready to infuse the space with his trademark energy. However, a subtle change in your demeanor caught his attention.

"Hey, love, something's on your mind. Mind sharing with me?", he asked, his voice etched with concern.

You, caught off guard, offered a tired smile. "Just the usual uni and work stress, Hoshi. You know how it is."

Leaning in, Hoshi's playful expression shifted to genuine concern. "I know you better than that, baby. What's really going on, Y/n? Talk to me."

You sighed, deciding to drop the façade.

"Alright, family issues are piling up, and deadlines at uni are suffocating. Work isn't making it any easier. I still haven't completed my assignment which is due in two days. I don't know Hosh, I feel like I'm drowning."

Seated beside you, Hoshi gently took your hand in to his, rubbing them softly. "You're not alone in this, babe. We're a team. Tell me what's specifically bothering you."

You hesitated a little, then opened up about the complexities of your family dynamics, demanding courses, and the relentless pressure at work. Hoshi listened intently, his expressive eyes mirroring empathy.

"I didn't want to burden you with all this," you confessed, vulnerability seeping into your voice.

You have always been the person your family expected to be responsible and strong. You have gone through so many painful and difficult times on your own, never burdening anyone with them. Your tears had always been in between you and your pillow and the four walls of your room.

Hoshi cupped your face. "Love, your struggles are mine too. We face them together. Don't ever think you're burdening me.", he said concern and love written all over his face.

Hoshi, although usually is a playful, childish and funny person, knew when he had to step up and take the wheel so that you could let your guard down and lean on him for comfort.

.......

Over the next days, your interactions evolved into a symphony of shared moments. Hoshi was extra careful with you, always checking on you without bothering you too much.

Hoshi surprised you with more than just grand gestures – little notes carefully placed on the fridge or tucked into your books before heading to practices. Each note carried words of encouragement, love, and even a few goofy drawings which never failed to make you smile.

........

One day, as you got home after uni, you saw a pretty little bento box cake with a note next to it which read "Pretty cake for my pretty girl. Eat it all and regain your energy okay? And I know you get pretty stressed with your assignments at hand, so I have bought some of your favorite ice cream for you. It's in the fridge, okay? Love you baby! - Hosh<3"

Oh I wish I could eat this but my face is bloated and I feel like I might have gained some weight, so maybe just one bite. You felt so insecure as the stress from being so overworked kept you away from taking care of your body as you usually do.

You pulled out the little spoon and took a little bite off the cake before putting it into the fridge. You went back to your studies after a small shower.

A few hours later, Hoshi was back from his practice.

"Hey my beautiful girl!", he said brightly as he headed towards the fridge to get some cold water. "Hey, Hosh", you replied barely looking up.

"Hey..... Why is this still here?", Hoshi asked, concern etched in his tone. He sounded very hurt, you looked up towards him to see what's wrong. And there he was, with the bento cake in hand, looking at you sadly.

"I had a bite Hosh", you said, trying to sound cheerful and trying to hide the fact that you are slowly falling back into your insecurities.

"Liar.", he said furrowing his brows.

"Okay fine. Look Hosh, I've gained like five kilos these two weeks. I'm barely going to the gym. I think I should stop indulging, and cut my calories.

"Oh STOP IT!", he stormed towards you with the cake, looking mad as hell. One thing about this sweet boy, You never want to see him angry. He scary.

"Eat this. NOW", he said placing the cake infront of you with the spoon. He folded his arms and continued to give you a death stare. You slowly took the spoon into your had and picked at the cake. Bite after bite, Hoshi's anger seemed to fade away. When you were done with about half of it, Hoshi ruffled your hair.

"Baby, I know how important it is to take care of your body and be fit. But there are times in life when we can't prioritize it like before. But you should never be afraid of food. With more weight or not, you are you. You are working hard. You are trying your best. And you must eat, baby. That's all that matters. Okay?", he asked a hint of pain and lot of love filled in his voice.

"i'm sorry, babe. I just- It's just- I don't know...", you struggled finding words to explain your emotions.

"I know baby, I know.", he said softly as he came closer. Hugging you and pulling your head into his chest. Stroking it gently.

......

One evening on the balcony under a starry sky, Hoshi spoke softly. "You're resilient, Y/n. And it's okay not to be strong all the time. Lean on me when you need to."

Feeling a weight lift off your shoulders, you expressed gratitude. "Thank you for being my anchor, Hoshi. I appreciate having you."

He pulled you into a tender kiss, hugging you tightly afterwards. "We're in this together, always. Let's make this place not just our home but a haven where we face life's storms side by side. I want you to know that I will always be there by your side".

In the days that followed, Hoshi continued to shower you with affection. He would often sneak up behind you, planting soft kisses on your neck while you worked at your desk. "Just a little energy boost for my hardworking love," he'd say, leaving you smiling amidst your assignments.

One evening, as you prepared dinner together, Hoshi couldn't resist stealing a kiss, his playful tone accompanied by a mischievous grin. "Cooking is much better with a dash of love," he said, sealing the sentiment with another sweet peck that lingered just long enough to leave you blushing.

Your conversations became a blend of deep talks, deep connections and playfulness.... Hoshi, always the comedian, lightened the mood with silly jokes and goofy faces. He would sometimes try to pull you away from your studies, or overthinking a little bit and show his new dance moves or a choreo he just made with the boys.

"You're my favorite audience, Y/n. Your smile is the best reward," he admitted, punctuating his words with a tender kiss on your cheek.

......

Amidst the chaos of life, you both found solace in simple moments. One lazy Sunday morning, you both lingered in bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Hoshi traced patterns on your back, his voice, soft and filled with love. "You're my calm in the storm, Y/n. Let's stay in this moment forever." You can't lie, he is your only solace, your only medicine.

.......

Your apartment echoed with laughter and the soft sounds of shared secrets. One day after you just finished completing yet another assignment, Hoshi, with an impish grin, surprised you with a spontaneous pillow fight. Amidst the feathers floating in the air, he stole a kiss, leaving the both of you breathless and laughing.

At night, as you curled up on the couch watching a movie, Hoshi whispered sweet nothings in your ear. "I love you so much, baby. Sometimes I feel like i'm going crazy. You're the script of my love story, and every moment with you is a scene I never want to end," he confessed, sealing his words with a lingering kiss.

Your love story unfolded like a beautifully choreographed dance, with Hoshi leading the way. You found comfort in him. You were there for him when he was vulnerable, and now here he is, being your knight in shining armor. The apartment became a part off of a movie screen; romance, painted with stolen kisses, whispered promises, and the shared warmth of your laughter.

As you guys were snuggled up in your bed, trying to fall asleep, Hoshi held you close, his eyes reflecting the depth of his affection. "Life is a journey, love, and I'm grateful you're my companion. You're the strongest person I know, y/n, and I would die without you." he declared, sealing the sentiment with a passionate kiss that left no room for doubt.

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I hope you liked this babes!!<3 Take care!

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen reactions #hoshi #seventeen hoshi #hoshi imagines #seventeen oneshot #kwon soonyoung #kwon soonyoung imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop #seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi x y/n #hoshi x you #minors dni

[whorekneecentral]

Wait hang on, I just saw ur post!! THANK UUUU!!!🥳

Fernando x Hamilton!reader where they’re in a secret relationship that most people know about: except Lewis, who doesn’t find out abt the whole arrangement until he catches them making out behind the Merc motorhome

- nando anon

you guys are soooo into this old man but.. anyways -- tw: age gap! (reader is 25-27)

It was unseasonably warm in France this weekend. The hospitality building was full because everyone was hiding from the heat, trying to cool down in the air conditioned building for as long as possible before having to go back outside.

Your brother, Lewis, sat next to you while George and Carmen across from you two. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk," you announce, getting up when you notice the time on your phone.

Lewis looks over at you, his brows furrow. "You're going out in this heat?"

"I just need some air, it's cramped in here."

He nods, "okay, be careful." He hands you his water bottle and you take it, confused. "You'll need water, it's hot out there."

You set the bottle back down and George gets up. "I forgot something in my driver's room," he says and Carmen stands too. "I have some work to finish up, I'll walk you out?" Carmen links arms with you, pulling you away from the table.

"Are you going to see him?" She asks quietly when you were far enough away from Lewis.

"Who?" you looked at her confused. Carmen gives you a look, "y/n, we all know." She giggled, "you need to be careful, your brother was asking George if he thinks you're seeing someone."

George appears behind you two, standing between the two of you with his arms over your shoulders. "Plus, isn't Fernando too old for you?" He asks and earns an elbow in the side from both you and Carmen.

"Leave the girl alone," she tells her boyfriend. "Just be careful, okay?" She gives your arm a squeeze, the two of them leaving you as you step out the backdoors.

Behind the hospitality was fairly quiet, considering there was currently a heat wave and nobody wanted to be out.

"You're late." He says, his voice pulling your attention and causing you to turn.

"I'm never late, you're just early." You smiled, walking over to the man.

Fernando's hand rests on your waist, your back against the building as you looked at him. "I missed you," he says and you can't help the smile on your face.

"I saw you this morning, remember?"

The whole thing between you two started by accident; one too many drinks post race and you ended up in bed together. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized you liked him.

You has spent last night with him, Fernando sweet talking you into spending the night in his room.

"I don't remember," he mumbles, his lips meet your neck, kissing over the chain that hung on your neck.

"I knew you were old, but has your memory gone already?" You joked, earning a pinch to the side.

"I think I might need a refresher," he says, hand cupping your jaw.

"Well," you start, "I think it was something like this." You lean in to kiss him, pulling his hand to your waist. Fernando's hand finds it way down to your ass, giving it a squeeze. His other hand was on your thigh, pulling your leg up to hitch on his hip and you can feel it wander up your bare leg and just under the hem of your skirt.

"Are you fucking serious ?" The man groans, causing you two to separate and look in the direction of the noise.

Your brother stood there with his hands on his hips, an exasperated look on his face, much like a disappointed father.

"What are you doing out here?" You asked, fixing your skirt.

"What am I doing? What are you doing? You were taking forever to come back in so I thought I'd come out and check on you to see if you got a heat stroke or something, but instead I find you making out with Fernando of all people."

"I mean, I came onto him just to make it clear before you try to beat him up or something." You giggled, you can feel Fernando's hand on your lower back as he stood next to you.

"It's not funny, y/n."

"It is, actually." You tell your brother, the man rolling his eyes. "Whatever," he sighs, "just be.. safe. I don't need my niece or nephew to be an Alonso."

"What's wrong with being an Alonso?!" Fernando shouts after him as he walked back into the hospitality building.

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #nando anon :)