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#knight gets sad on main

writerfae · 4 months

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Here's an interesting question:

What would have happened if Aiden looked like their mom and Henry didn't? I think this would affect so many things like maybe then Aiden would have been the one that Milan took his grief out on? What would Henry have done then? Or maybe Milan wouldn't have done that since Aiden was so small?

This is really an interesting question!

If Aiden were the one who looked like his mother, it would definitely change Milan’s relationship to him.

Yes, he’d make his father’s grief worse because he’d remind him of her. Milan would shut down/have a breakdown when he sees him on a bad day, like he did when seeing Henry.

And I think that would break Aiden’s heart a little and he’d probably feel guilty. It would definitely cause a distance between them. (Which would be pretty sad, especially since like I mentioned they have a close bond.)

Yet, I don’t believe Milan would take his grief out on Aiden. Because here’s the thing: him fighting with Henry sometimes had nothing to do with the fact that Henry looks like Ranva.

I think in the end it would still be Henry that gets to witness Milan’s misguided anger the most. Especially since even in canon he tended to shield Aiden from his father’s occasional bad moods.

So he would probably still end up leaving. The difference would be that after he was gone Milan wouldn’t start to feel a little better, since the reminder of his dead wife (Aiden) in this case would still be around.

So the biggest change would be that Aiden’s relationship to his father would be worse and Aiden would probably have one insecurity more in his life

#I also feel like I should state that Milan didn’t fight/was upset with Henry all the time #it was also not the reason Henry left #just so that you don’t get a wrong impression about him cause I have that talent to make people sound worse than they actually are 🙈#Milan’s main moods after Ranva’s death were numb. lost in thought/daydreaming of her. sad. anger only came occasionally #you see Henry would try to get his father to eat or stuff like that and sometimes Milan didn’t want to and got angry because of that #just to name one thing they argued over #Henry got angry with him too sometimes. he even yelled at him once #writer speaks #writeblr #wip: the knights of the alder

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thedeadthree · 1 year

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🖊🖊🖊 for each of your da ocs please im begging

HIIII AJ DEAR AND OF COURSE <3 and not emotional at all bc of u wishing to know more about my da babies AHH..! since i finished absolution they've been on the brain again.....! <3

SEND A 🖊 + I WILL GUSH ABOUT MY OCS <3

🖊 - the small folk of ferelden named her the ashen queen! for her ashen hair but as she saved the temple of sacred ashes, and she was reborn in the fires of Highever from lady to warden to queen to hero of all Ferelden from the blight. <3

🖊 - in highever, like the dear girl she was "the teyrnir's delight" she had more than a few paramours and requests for her hand (there was even talk of a tourney for her hand jahsbnjh) but her heart was on her sworn knight, sir roderick gilmore, before the tragedy of highever that resulted in his passing. alistair reminded her a lot of him when they first met in ways of their personalities. and he helped her heal from that and she's grateful to ali for that to this day <3 speaking of ali though <3 he still gifts her roses to this day every year on the day of their anniversary (bc of course he does <3) and had a garden commissioned in the palace for her! was it costly? yes! was it needed? not really! but he loves her and she loved him for it so!

🖊 - this hit me like an epiphany last month? i think? but i thought of having an old amell oc be her lady-in-waiting and childhood bestie! her name was rhiannon but i think i like alicent better? following her successful harrowing (with flying colors mind thee <3) she returned to highever to be the court sorceress of teyrn bryce cousland! alphonsa played wingman to her when ali showed interest in nathaniel howe <3 to be honest i adore natie too much and was going to set him up with alfie in an au but as i was thinking of fun facts it HIT ME and so! wingman alfie to her bestie was born! <3

🖊 - originally his name was faron! but i wasn't into the name and how it flowed together and in browsing the silm/t*olkien tag the plural for the f*eanor came up and i liked how it sounded as a name <3 and so his name was changed to feanorian!!!! his vallaslin and his patron was falon'din for a time as the mother of him and his sister lhysa was at one point a patron of the elven god of shadow <3

🖊 - for his relationship history if i remember reading right, he has been happily married to dorian for about a decade now at the start of da:d and (maybe) absolution <3 he had a short lived relationship with merril back in the day as a companion of hawke. he’s also had more than a few other lords and ladies as partners in the past before he met dorian <3 get ur rich man feanorian!!!!!!

🖊 - other than solas, he is the foremost scholar of elvhen lore and ancient sorcery <3 rivals that of the tevinter archon in terms of power and knowledge of the arcane <3 LOOOATHES using staffs and prefers the tried and true hands to dish out an arcane hind end whooping hehe! the chantry threw a FIT when he refused a staff they offered him but he “assured” them he hasn’t become an abomination.. yet <3 he was also invited to attend the temple of sacred ashes as a dignitary! his extensive knowledge totally doesn’t stem from the fact his biological father was an ancient elf himself and now the left hand to the dread wolf <3

🖊 - NOW FOR MY BABY <3 she has another verse she’s in!!!!! her other verse is the witcher where’s shes lhysa aep lonán, an aen seidhe of nilfgaard <3 also an assassin, she was the premier kingslayer and left hand of both emperor emhyr, his son maxen (an oc of minee <3) and jan c*alveit!!!!! in her da verse she was once an assassin for her mothers order based in nevarra the nahkriin, but went her separate way from it and became freelance!

🖊 - she never meant to be the inquisitor, and for sure never meant to touch the orb it sort of…… happened. her motivations for her presence there was actually that she was on a contract. and who was the contract for you say? it was the divine justinia herself in fact! <3 she hoped to kill her and draw attention to a few important things and people. you know, the chantry because of it was more than obvious that the only way to draw attention was to force their hand when it came to matters pertaining to them, and of course, a particular rebel leader of an unknown but known to someone……. VERY dear to her:

🖊 - WHICH LEADS TO MY LAST ONE!!!!! she and felassan were an item in this verse! i need to read the book he’s in bc she’s also in it for more lore but! he and her! his ideals and charisma captivated her. which was WEIRD for her bc well, in her line of work u know it is neeever a good idea to become close or attached to anyone u know? and uhhhh well……. he dies in the fade right.. bc well bestie rebel leader totally not an elven god right. SO HE WAKES UP AND HE WAKES UP TRANQUIL RIGHT SO HE WAS ZEROED IN THE FADE RIGHT! *cue the tiktok “she knows” song* AND ALSO *cue bloodlines will burn from the hotd soundtrack jsjshx* bc she SWORE to kill the one who killed him u know? it’s only right! an eye for an eye a soul for a soul u know? which makes it MORE inch resting that the whole time it was solas right? and even worse is he fell in love with her and she fell in love with him.. ✨😵‍💫🤍😳

#🌸: aj #jendoe #oc: alphonsa cousland #oc: feanorian lavellan #oc: lhysa lavellan #leg.ocs #leg.asks #leg.txt #THANK YOUU AJ MY DEAR MY BELOVEDDD #i do not have much lore on her but I am also accepting asks for the dbd dear the witch hehe <3 BUT ANYWAYY #ty ty ty im crying now ty for wishing to know more about the babies!!!!!! I’ve had them for literal YEARS so they mean a lot ✨😖#could talk yalls ear off about them u know? osjsjxhx ✨🥹 THEY MEAN THE WORLD <3 #a bonus but fun fact ORIGINALLY she was a side character lhysa AND her twinsie!#but her and her brother and lhysa and s*olas just took over my very though and that was that! main girl she became! <3 #and alfie may get another fc change bc tho i ADOREE her fc (obv bc it’s D*ANYY and that’s the dear u know?) im not sure? u know?#her design was HUUGELY based on her but i don’t know and I’ve changed her fc like….. a zillion times wosjxux u know? ✨🥺 but yea! that’s baby #melancholic sad baby but also has her own ambitions and wants for herself and the world! the beloved <3 #literally her relationship with her knight was h*arwin and rh*aenyra hehe <3 BC BELOVEDSS #dear boy may also have in my canon a cameo in abs as he was the commissioner for the infinitus <3 #he needed it to make sure it didn’t get in the hands of lhys’ ex or the crimson knight u know?#he mused about bringing back his dead step dad or fel*assan but was like NO THANK u when they told him of what went down #he destroys it after hearing that u know? was like YEA NO THANKS no innocents suffering for one bauble on his watch ✨😤#i had to put this in my drafts bc my computer was crashing and I had to restart it BUT I GOT TO SAVE IT AT LEAST ty ty tungle dear <3 ✨😖#a few inspos for alfie actually <3 rhae / d*any / ali giving her the flower garden was inspired by m*aron m*argella and the gardens! etc!#can u tell I’m in DEEEP with the dragon show alsjzjxj it’s even going into my other verses ✨🥴

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dustofthedailylife · 11 months

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"General, This Ain't A Cat"

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Jing Yuan x (gn!) Reader

Summary: One day you find a cute white lion cub scratching on your front door, little did you know that the actual owner of it was Jing Yuan, the General of the Xianzhou Luofu himself. And he might have the wrong idea about the little thing, too...

Tags: Fluff, Crack, Jing Yuan's Lion loves you, inspired by the General's Diary you can find in HSR, flustered Jing Yuan

A/N: I love him a very normal amount, your honor! The fact he is a cat dad too is just too cute! And also that he got scammed trying to buy a cat and instead unknowingly managed to buy a lion makes it so much funnier. I can only recommend reading his diary ingame lmao

A distinct scratching sound on the front door of your home made you perk up in your seat. You waited for the sound to reappear a couple of times before deciding to check what was causing it.

You slowly opened the door and looked outside. But both to the right and to the left you spotted nothing that could’ve caused the sound. It was also relatively windstill on the Luofu today so that also couldn’t have been it.

Just as you were about to close the door again you spotted the culprit behind the flower pot right next to your door. It was a small, snow-white lion cub, not older than a couple of months at best, and it looked at you pleadingly with its azure-colored eyes.

Did it want to come in?

You knelt down on your doorstep and stretched your hand out towards it, prompting it to come over to you. It hesitantly tiptoed in your direction from behind the flower pot, carefully smelling on your fingers first before bumping its head into your hand. You began scratching its head and not too long after a loud purr could be heard.

It was such a cute little thing you were almost tempted to snatch it and keep it. But a beautiful animal like that had to belong to someone, right?

You picked the soft bundle of fur up and walked towards the main road to look around. Maybe it ran away and the owner was still around looking for it? They had to be since you never heard of any instances of strays on the Luofu.

A little bit further down the street, you spotted two Cloud Knights with a bag of treats in their hand. They were eagerly shaking them to make rattling sounds and simultaneously scanned the ground for something. Looks like they are the people the little cutie belonged to.

"Hey," you called out to them. "Are you looking for this snow lion perhaps?"

"Oh, thank the Heavens!" One of the guards exclaimed. "We've been looking for it the entire day already.”

One of the guards stretched out their arms to take the little lion cub into his arms but it made no fuss to go anywhere. In fact, it was clinging to you and started purring loudly, bumping its head into your chest.

“Hey, you little cutie. You have to get back home. I’m sure you’re hungry by now, aren’t you? Enough adventure for one day.” You said in a higher-pitched voice. Its eyes almost looked sad and it let out a squeak the moment you handed it back to the soldiers and waved them goodbye.

As soon as you were back home you couldn’t help but think about the little lion again. It was the first time you had ever seen one with such a majestic fur and eye color. Whoever it belonged to could surely count themself lucky.

A couple of days passed and you went about your days as normal until you heard the familiar scratching at your front door again.

Unlike the first time you immediately knew it must be the same lion from a few days prior. You went to open the door again and the white bundle of fur immediately zoomed inside of your home.

Alerted, you immediately began chasing it around your living room. As much as you wanted to actually keep it as well, you absolutely couldn’t. Someone was waiting for it and probably worried about its disappearance once again. You for sure would turn the Luofu upside down if it was your missing pet.

Snatching the little complaining bundle of fur up again proved difficult as it was clinging and clawing at your carpet for dear life, but you eventually managed.

Carrying it outside once again you looked for Cloud Knights you could return it to again but this time a blonde teen boy, dressed in blue and no older than maybe fourteen was walking down the street with treats this time. And for some reason, he seemed oddly familiar.

“Mimi? Miiiii-Miiiii. Come get your treats!!” The blonde boy shouted and shook the treat box in his hands like a rattle.

The little lion cub, apparently named Mimi, perked its ears up in your arms and began trying to wriggle out of your grasp. You let it jump down and watched it zoom in the direction of the boy, sitting down and looking up at him with hungry and expectant eyes.

“There you are, you little troublemaker!” He says furrowing his brows and throwing Mimi a handful of treats.

Going off of the way the lion reacted to his voice you assumed it was probably his pet lion.

He picked it up and started petting it, eliciting it to close its eyes, start purring and relax in his arms. The boy smiled at it fondly and slightly shook his head in disbelief over the little rascal before looking down the street to where you were standing.

“Hey, you!” He shouted and started trotting in your direction. “Were you the one who found Mimi?”

You nodded in response before wondering how he could’ve figured that out considering he didn’t see you with Mimi at all.

“Wait how did you-?” You inquired with furrowed brows.

He just pointed at your chest, or more specifically, at your shirt in reply. Following the direction of his finger with your gaze you soon realized that you were entirely covered in white fluff from when you were holding Mimi.

“Ah. Well of course. That makes sense,” you chuckled. “Does it run away a lot?” You asked pointing at the still happily purring snow lion in the blonde boy’s arms.

He simply rolled his eyes and smiled in reply. “All the time.”

“Well, it seems to be fond of my front door as of late. I live just a bit further down the street. So chances are if it runs away again, it might be near my house again.”

“Good to know. Certainly makes things easier,” he nodded. “I’m Yanqing, by the way!”

That’s why he seemed so familiar. He is the lieutenant of the Luofu Cloud Knights and you had seen him here and there in an official capacity but you generally didn’t pay too much attention to those so you couldn’t quite put your finger on it earlier.

It certainly explained the beautiful and special-looking animal in his arms.

You grabbed the hand he held out to you and introduced yourself as well before bidding him farewell for now not too long after. Looking after him as he walked back home you smiled to yourself and hoped for him that he would be able to keep his little lion cub in check from now on.

A couple more days passed once more after that encounter until someone rang your doorbell. You weren’t expecting any visitors, especially not this late in the evening so you wondered who would possibly come over at this time of day.

Out of every possible person on the ship, however, you certainly didn’t expect the General of the Luofu in the flesh to be your late-night visitor. He was standing in front of your door with hands folded behind his back and staring down the street, waiting for your to open the door.

“Good evening, General… Can I help you with something?” You carefully inquired with some hesitancy in your voice.

You suddenly felt very small, and that was not only because he was a tall, handsome, and quite muscular man but also because you were more than just a bit intimidated.

Nothing to worry about, right? It was only the most important man on the entire ship standing in front of your house.

Naturally, your mind immediately came to the conclusion that you must’ve done something wrong.

“Uhm-,” he began, scratching the back of his neck. “Do you happen to know where my cat is?

Out of every possible thing he could’ve said, this was the last thing you expected.

“Your… cat?” You asked in disbelief. He simply nodded and looked around your front yard once more.

“It’s white with bright blue eyes. Yanqing has informed me that Mimi is quite fond of you and keeps escaping to your house.”

So it was his pet. But wait, didn’t he just say…

“Cat?”

“Yes. A small grimalkin, up to no good, constantly runs away. My cat.” He elaborated.

At that point, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He seemed very taken aback and confused by your outburst and you were almost inclined to say that it made him, this big hunk of a man, look like a huge, gentle teddy bear.

“Care to explain what is so funny?” He asked crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Forgive me, General,” you wiped a tear out of the corner of your eyes. “I do not wish to burst your bubble here but your cat may not be what you think it is.”

“What are you implying?”

“It’s a lion, General. I can assure you, it’s most certainly not a cat.”

You observed how his eyes widened in surprise and a hint of pink began to dust his cheeks behind his long bangs. You had to bite your lip in order to not start laughing again. He really didn’t know. And the fact you made him aware of it seemed to be quite embarrassing to him.

“Oh. Uhm… well, I actually had my suspicions already.” He stated, once again scratching the back of his neck. You couldn’t help but wonder how a man like him could manage to look this cute when flustered. And to think this was the first face-to-face contact you had ever had with him made it all the better.

Without a doubt, he was an attractive man, and that was something everyone aboard the Luofu would agree to. However, after witnessing him in this flustered, and quite frankly, adorable state tonight, your desire to get to know him on a more personal level increased.

“What would it take for you to not tell anyone about this?” He suddenly inquired. But before you could answer, he made an offer himself. One you couldn’t possibly refuse after everything that transpired tonight.

“How does a dinner sound? My treat of course.”

“Hmm, very well. Or you could let your cat stay with me more often?”

“Well, that can also be arranged,” he chuckled with a playful smile. “But we come as a pair.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr fluff #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #hsr imagines #jing yuan #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 hsr

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feninina · 8 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months

Text

Dauntless Matchmaker Part 2

Danny knew that his strange new boss was rich. He figured that much out by the overly priced suit and the wad of cash, but when he followed him into an Uber, he never thought he would wind up at the Waynes.

Everyone knew who the Waynes were. Danny personally thought it was no exaggeration when people called Bruce Wayne the Prince of Gotham.

He thought it fit the lovable man far more than the title of White Knight. It wasn't that Bruce didn't do the most out of all the ultra-rich to help the city, but rather, it mirrored the Dark Knight too much.

Danny thinks Bruce Wayne and Batman were too different to be compared like that. At least Mr. Wayne is real.

"Welcome home, Master Damian." The butler said as soon as the two walked through the door. His intrigued eyes slowly glanced at Danny, causing the teenager to stand straighter. "And who might our guest be?"

"I believed he was here for Drake." The young boy- apparently named Damian, fibs. Danny is a little impressed that he can sound so uncaring about what is happening despite being the whole reason he is here.

Danny knows that his job is to fool the butler and act like he isn't very aware of Damian. He offers the man his best smile. "Yeah, I came to see Tom. "

The older gentleman raises a brow while Damian shoots him a look of utter venom. Danny fights the urge to cower underneath the boy's displeasure. That is one nasty scowl the boy had.

"I am afraid Master Tim, is currently unavailable in his room"

Aw, crude, he said the wrong name. "Um, I know he said he needed a few minutes to get ready, but I was allowed to go up to his room. I'm sorry, sir I'm a little nervous."

"I see," The other says carefully before sharing a look with Damian. There is a moment where the two just stare at each other, and after a few small hand signs- sign language, maybe?- the butler clears his throat.

"That's quite alright, young man. You may go to Master Tim's room. It's up the main stairway on the third level, fifth door on the right."

Danny practically ran to the stairs, throwing a quick "Thank you, sir!" as he scurried away from the Butler and his boss. The boy still looked greatly displeased with his performance.

He prays he gets better at it once he speaks with Tom-er Tim and gets their story straight. Curious, He glances around, taking in the tasteful night pictures of Gotham City and the scattered few statues.

His breath catches when he sees a large frame photo of a man lying on an old couch looking into the far distance, his smile curving with mischievous glee and the sunlight reflecting the blue of his eyes.

There is a background of an old library, but the sun streaming through the window drapes him with a glow that makes the other man seem otherworldly.

It feels like it should be a painting, but it is so clearly a photograph that Danny has half a mind to wonder if someone who looked like that could possibly be real.

"Wow." He breathes, stepping closer to the frame.

"Wow, yourself." A gruff voice suddenly says, making Danny jump. Whirling around, he finds a boy about his age leaning on the doorframe.

It takes Danny a moment to realize that he is the subject of the art he was just admiring. But while the teenager in the photo seemed like a visiting angel, draped gracefully put together the teenager before him is, in a slight word, a mess.

He was wearing an oversized, fluffy, red open bathrobe. He seemed to only bother to slip on some baggy sweatpants and one sock. His hair didn't seem to have been combed in days, and there were dreadful bags underneath his eyes.

Despite that, Danny felt his heart flutter slightly when he made eye contact with the other.

"Who are you?" The stranger asks, voice a soft mutter.

"Um...I'm looking for Tim?"

"You found him." There is a half smile, but it falls quickly as the boy's demeanor seems to grow sad. Welp, his boss did say he was recently heartbroken.

"Oh great! I was told by Damian to do this when I found you." He places his hand on the wall, knocking six times, pausing for a few seconds, then knocking four.

Tim's face flashes through emotions faster than Danny can understand before the other teens' eyes water. That's all the warning he gets just as Tim bursts into tears.

He has no idea what's happening, but Danny's protective core has him rushing forward to bring the sobbing boy into his arms. He fumbles for a few seconds, unsure if it's welcome, until Tim melts into him, sobbing softly into his chest.

"It's okay. Shh. Shhhh. It's alright, everything will be alright. Why don't we head to your room?"

"Okay," The other whimpers. Danny helps him to his room, trying his best to offer as much support as possible. He is just starting to wonder if he should offer to get him some water or something when Tim kicks the door close, and the tears are all gone.

"Alright, we managed to fool Alfred. He was watching from the stairway," Tim whispers, leaning in close to Danny's face. He gave the startled half-ghost a sneer. "Now, who are you, and why did Damian send you to be my fake boyfriend?"

"Wait, you guys have a code for fake dating? That's what that was?"

"That's not important. I want to know what your objective is."

Danny tells him everything that Damian has told him since finding him. It's only been a few hours since he was fired and since he was taken by Damian.

Tim took it all in without much emotion.

"So you're here as my pity date to get Alfred to leave me alone? And was the Demon Brat the one to hire you? A likely story."

"No, I swear everything I've said is true."

"Oh, and I bet Batman is going to come out of the closet, too," The other said, rolling his eyes.

Danny frowns. "Batman isn't real."

At once, Tim's entire body seemed to have frozen. He blinks slowly, almost as if he is delayed in the reaction. "What did you just say?"

"Batman isn't real," Danny repeats slower, suddenly afraid for Tim's mental health. Next thing he knows, Tim will say the tooth fairy is real.

"Yes, he is."

"No, that's what the government wants you to think so they can hunt him down."

Tim blicks even slower before a blush starts to climb along his cheekbones. He reaches up to play with the hair at the back of his neck. "If that's true, then what is Batman really?"

"A ghost," Danny says confidently and Tim's face grows even redder. It's....endearing.

"You're weird," Tim says, looking away. His gaze lands on a hanging mirror, seemingly taken aback by his reflection. "Oh, I haven't showered in a few days, have I? Do you mind?"

Danny shakes his head, smiling. "No, go ahead. "

Noehter notices the small boy who moves away from Tim's door. And if that boy happened to be pumping his fist into the air in celebration well, that's no one business but Damian's

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Dauntless Matchmaker #Part 2 #Tim has a type #When you accept weird jobs you roll with the punches #Damian found a conspry guy #Danny doesn't belive in Batman

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

Text

book 5 part 6 thoughts!!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 6 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***

If you’d like to watch a rough part-by-part summarized translation, please check out this archived stream!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

Ew, we're starting off with another map segment... TWST REALLY WANTS TO TIMEGATE OUR TEARS, HUH

Yuu and gang are going to follow the night fae soldiers to Black Scale Castle beyond the mountains. They can't stay too far from the owner of the dream, Lilia! (If you'll remember, they're now taking Tamago-sama there for safety while Meleanor stays behind to fight the Silver Owls.)

Silver hasn't seen Sebek use his UM??? Sebek tells us he learned his UM when Silver got into NRC and Sebek was training by himself. He wanted to be able to rush to Malleus's side at a moment's notice. He knows it is able to turn his own body into lightning and then can use it to move and to attack. However, the spell will damage his body while using it since he has yet to reach mastery. Sebek can't use his magic to rush to Lilia and the others because he wouldn't be able to fight by the time he does.

... ISN'T HIS UM SIMILAR TO ROLLO'S.... JUST TRADE FIRE FOR LIGHTNING...

AW, SEBEK WASN'T PLANNING ON USING HIS SPELL UNTIL HE MASTERED IT... BUT HE STILL USED IT TO SAVE SILVER 😭

Oh, they finally asked the question we were all having. If Malleus made this dream with the intention of it being a happy ending, then why do only sad things happen in Lilia's dream??? Also, why did OB Malleus not come after them yet or kick them out of the dream??? Maybe there's a reason why Malleus can't supervise or enter Lilia's dream??

BAUL LEFT THEM MAGIC TO GUIDE THEM THE RIGHT WAY... HE TRUSTS US TO HELP THEM NOW

Baul fights with an axe. IS HE ABOUT TO HAND IT OVER TO SEBEK (Sebek seems to be holding one in his limited time card)????

Lilia "I won't forgive you if you die!" Vanrouge.

Not both grandpa and grandson volunteering to stay behind to fight and then catch up later... Sebek tells Silver to go ahead and protect Lilia, "You go and protect what is most precious to you. I'm going to protect what is precious to me," (Sebek about Baul) 😭 The night fae are so confused why a human would willingly help them... THI S IS SEBEK'S CHARACTER ARC

SEBEK PROVES HIMSELF A CAPABLE FIGHTER TO HIS GRANDPA!! His hair gets all messy like what's shown in his new SSR. It's raining as well (like in the card art), so this is likely the context for the illustration. The groovy artwork is of Sebek being knighted!!!

adgkuvaodv8yfefvyyeft8wen Sebek makes a big speech about wanting to be their strength!! BAUL ACKNOWLEDGES SEBEK BY NAME INSTEAD OF "HUMAN" AND GRANTS HIM A SOLDIER'S UNIFORM, SEBEK'S BEING OFFICIALLY KNIGHTED FOR THE BRIAR COUNTRY'S IMPERIAL GUARD AND GIVEN A NEW WEAPON... BAUL EVEN GIVES SEBEK HIS OWN CROCODILE MASK

Zigvolt family lore!! Baul doesn't get along with his human son-in-law, but never distanced himself from his grandchildren. When Baul's only daughter wanted to marry a human, they argued so much about it. To this day, he still doesn't particularly care for humans. Even so, Baul's house has a lot of storybooks and candy prepared for his mixed grandchildren. He won't open them warmly, but it's clear he loves his family.

Silver saves Lilia!! And then Lilia asks Silver to take the egg to Black Scale Castle in his place. There are too many human soldiers on their trail, and Lilia cannot fight them while holding the egg (plus he's already injured from previously protecting Silver at the easternmost fortress).

Yuu has to hold Tamago-sama...

Silver proceeds to carry Lilia like a baby in spite of Lilia saying he'd stay behind and distract the Silver Owls 🤡 NOT SILVER USING LILIA'S OWN TEACHINGS TO TELL DREAM!LILIA THEY STILL HAVE TO TRY AND SURVIVE

The mountains are called the "Forbidden Mountains" and it is said that this is where Maleficent once lived. If you are not blessed by the dragons, the lightning (according to legend) will strike you down. Beyond the mountain is Briar Country's capital city and Black Scale Castle.

Surprisingly, Silver suggests an ambush method (hide and strike at soldiers from behind when they've let their guard down). I guess NRC really did teach him how to be backhanded after all/j

Silver says maybe Malleus can't follow them since he wasn't born yet in Lilia's dream. Magic relies on imagination, and since Malleus cannot imagine what life was like before he was born... that's probably why he can't monitor these circumstances.

Would you look at that 💀 The first real time the story acknowledges that Yuu is in bodily danger; Silver Owls shoot arrows at Yuu because they're holding the egg. Grimmu protects us!! Baby... Best buddy...

SEBEK ARRIVING TO SAVE SILVER (aksldnbaksdbaydasl lol at Sebek being smug about his knighting and trying to act cool even though the lightning is definitely still hurting him...)

Silver Owls retreat!

Oh wow, so they see creeping black thorns similar to when Malleus OB'd; everyone suspects that maybe Meleanor Overblotted too.

Silver mentions that he lives near the Forbidden Mountains but has never climbed them before. The rocks there are very sharp and dangerously jut out. AW, Lilia gives Silver and Yuu his cloak to protect them from the rain and cold. Lilia says the mountain range is full of magic, so its restorative to fae, who draw power from nature.

The way they came from was sealed off by rocks... but Lilia fully intends to go back and help Meleanor...

THEY MADE IT TO THE CASTLE!! It's called Maleficia's castle; we have an official English spelling for Granny Draconia's name. Something, something, Lilia wants to prepare something called the "Cradle Tower".

WE CUT BACK TO WILD ROSE CASTLE

Like father, like son... The Dawn Knight seems remorseful and wonders where they went wrong, if everyone could have been friends if they had chosen some other way. He wants to dream of a world where all races can live together in peace. "One day, it won't be just a dream, it will be reality." It's phrased very similarly to the wish Lilia made in Wish Upon a Star!

The stormy weather clears up and the dawn makes way... IT'S A SIGN THAT THE DAWN KNIGHT PREVAILED AND MELEANOA'S MAGIC HAS DISAPPEARED... Lilia just lets out the most guttural cries... He says if he were stronger, he would have taken Meleanoa with him against her will, HE WASN'T ABLE TO KEEP HIS PROMISE TO PROTECT MELEANOR FOR HIM

I still want to see Mallemom's on-screen death though.

Side note: they force us to play through a scripted loss battle between the Dawn Knight and Meleanor 💀 Sick fucks on the dev team…

This is delicious content :)))))))) We're eatin' well, boiz

Uhhh okay so there are greenish spirits floating around; they're the senate??? Apparently they've already died but their spirits linger and serve as advisors.

… Idk why doesn’t Mallemom do this too???

NAUR, NOT THE SENATE BLAMING AND SHAMING LILIA, SAYING HE RAN AWAY AND LEFT HER TO DIE IN BATTLE... THEY CALL LILIA A MUTT AND BAT, JUST A DIRTY ORPHAN WHO CAN’T BE TRUSTED… AND THAT HE ISN'T FIT TO SERVE, THAT HE'S USELESS (this must really sting seeing as Lilia has insecurities about not being wanted 😭)

Baul defends Lilia's honor but Lilia still resigns from the Imperial Guard. HE'S TELLING THE SENATE T HEY CAN PUNISH HIM SO THEY FORBID HIM FROM STEPPING INTO THE CAPITAL AGAIN

The senate uses magic to take the egg away from Lilia AND LILIA SAYS GOODBYE TO MALLEUS BY NAME

"I'm not an Imperial Guard anymore, I don't need to follow orders" — Lilia (when Baul tells Lilia he still has a duty to hatch the egg). LILIA HAS GIVEN UP and that seems to have summoned the darkness of the dream to them. Lilia thinks Meleanor and/or Levan are in the darkness so he wants to "go there too".

When a general retires, they are gifted a lavish home near Black Scale Castle. Sebek says it now makes sense why Lilia lived humbly in a forest cottage far away from the capital. Silver says it must be why Lilia dislikes the atmosphere of the capital and why he never took Silver there.

In a flashforward, Lilia is asked to come back 10 years later. At this point, Tamago-sama has developed more sentience and is actively rejecting the love magic from everyone, even his grandmother. He has only been receiving magic for the first 5ish years or so. Maleficia had Baul act as a messenger to bring Lilia back for a special mission BECAUSE OTHERWISE MALLEUS WILL DIE WITHOUT IT.

Malleus’s egg is being kept in Cradle Tower! It keeps the egg safe and essential incubates it for the royal family.

Land of Briar becomes Briar Valley? The queen cannot always be with the egg because Briar Valley and its surrounding are lands are left in chaos after the war. Briar Valley fae specifically are not allowed in human territories.

Lilia is sent off on to find a way to fix the situation. He says he will see where dragons live in other continents and research. Omg, this must be how he started his travels and learned more about other races and their cultures 😭

“Don’t you dare die, Malleus” — Lilia (AND THE LOVING DEATH THREAT ACTUALLY MAKES THE EGG GLOW)

We see some of Lilia’s travels AND HE WAS IN THE CITY OF FLOWERS ON TOPSY TURVY DAY... The people there were friendly at first and worrying for his health until they realize he's a fairy, then they chase him out.

During one of his routine reports, Lilia is convinced by Baul to speak with Malleus's egg (which now glows green sometimes). Lilia shares stories of his travels with Malleus, trying to keep it positive for the baby to not make Malleus sad.

NEXT LILIA TRAVELED TO THE SCALDING SANDS, A MERCHANT IS ASKING IF HE WANTS TO BUY A MAGIC LAMP... Lilia learns about the importance of souvenirs as keepsakes from that merchant.

Okay, so it looks like between travels we're getting scenes of Lilia reporting back and telling Malleus about the place he most recently visited. He says that the Scalding Sands used to be such a small civilization but has since grown into a sprawling city. It's amazing what kind of progress humans can make.

Malleus is fussy and some days accepts magic, and other days he doesn't. Meleanor was also a really picky eater. Levan carries himself like an honors student but was the type to hide his veggies.

AW, HE SINGS MELEANOR'S LULLABY TO MALLEUS

Next Lilia visits some ruins...? It looks like a background from the Spectral Realm seen in Endless Halloween Night. Lilia says no one lives here, there is only furniture. No ghosts are mentioned though! He uses his UM for the first time here. Far Cry Cradle is probably going to be very useful for investigating ways to hatch a dragon's egg!

Lilia tells Malleus to come out of the egg, it must be boring just sleeping. He offers to read stories and change his diaper, tells Malleus his dad wants to meet him. Oh, and of course Lilia shares about his UM too! He tells Malleus that he went to the Land of Crimson Long.

Lilia ventures to Harveston!! An old man mistakes Lilia for a kid and takes him in, showing him warmth and kindness. He says he'll leave soon, but the old man and an old woman say he should stay until spring because the weather is harsh.

The lady notices Lilia is fae (but since time has passed, relations between fae and humans have improved a bit). No one is afraid of him here!! They apologize for mistaking him as a kid and want to share stories.

(Not confirmed but it could be interesting if these were Epel’s ancestors Lilia met… Rollo’s ancestors can be the ones running Lilia out of the City of Flowers www)

ABSHDBYOAFVYFAIAEUQRQEOUBFQ LILIA IS 430 AT THIS POINT BUT THAT NUMBER IS SO CLOSE TO 420 IT MAKES ME LAUGH

His feelings are changing... At 450 years old, Lilia tells Malleus that the world has changed so much and he has had the chance to visit many places. ahbyoaybadadB APPARENTLY PEOPLE USED TO THROW STONES AND ROCKS AT HIM.

Lilia says that fae may become things of the past, just creatures of fairy tales. But he doesn't want Malleus to be the main character of a fairy tale, forgotten by time. He wants Malleus to be able to see the world his parents weren’t able to see for themselves 😔

Another time skip, and it's come to a point where the egg is in critical condition. For 3 whole months it has been rejecting Maleficia's magic. The egg has since erected a lightning barrier to protect itself, even though its own heartbeat is growing weaker and weaker. (Malleus throwing another tantrum lol)

Lilia heard weird sounds but no one else could??? Is that a baby crying???? He tries to approach, but almost gets struck down many times.

Lilia realizes Malleus is crying because he's lonely. "Wait for me. I'm coming to you right now!" He gets hit by lightning, but perserves!

Lilia says he will offer his magic, even his lifespan (many fan theorists squealed now that this is confirmed), to Malleus if he needs it, and finally embraces the egg. (Physical contact like holding the egg is said to encourage magic absorption.)

TAMAGO-SAMA??????? 😭 HE SOUNDS LIKE A POKEMON… and he’s already blowing fire even though he’s freshly hatched???

WTF THOUGH BABY MALLEUS IS 1000000000000000000000x CUTER THAN GROWN UP MALLEUS 🫶 (I don’t like modern day Malleus’s looks at all www)

Silver understands why the dream is how it is, because it was all worth it for Lilia to finally meet Malleus. The moment of hatching has to be the happiest moment in Lilia’s life.

The senate shows up and starts praising Lilia as a hero.

OH????? Lilia seems to be waking????

HMMMM? this implies there’s limited suspension of disbelief each dreamer has 🤔 and if pushes past that threshold, then the dreamer is in a confused half awake state. Idia had these little moments of questioning his dream’s reality as well.

The senate’s voices distort, and they start shouting at Lilia for touching the prince, how it will be a scandal if a bat (… is Lilia a bat fae???) “dirties” the Draconias, etc. Mmmm, maybe this is the real reaction and the praising was part of the dream?? Since Lilia seemed to react strangely to being extolled. (I’m still over here wondering why their opinions hold so much weight compared to the queen; surely she would invite her friend Lilia back?? And doesn’t seem to blame him for the death of her daughter?)

Levan has a voice similar to Malleus, but lacks horns.

DVSUBILADUP9FFQEQFFAHAFBFEYBN OB MALLEUS JUMPSCARE, HE FINALLY MANAGED TO BREAK THROUGH INTO LILIA'S DREAM

Okay 😭 Lilia did in fact use his own life span so Malleus could hatch, and then Lilia had Maleficia swear to secrecy because he was concerned Malleus would blame himself. But it also feels like the senate purged or edited the records to hide the fact that Malleus hatched with Lilia’s love??

Malleus tries to convince Lilia to go back to sleep, to not feel pain. He says he can give Lilia a dream where the Draconias are still alive, a dream where Lilia can live peacefully, just take Malleus’s hand—

SILVER COMING IN CLUTCH, he and Sebek vow to break Malleus’s “blessing”. It’s this word that allows Lilia to fully awaken!!! ⏰ He’s so proud of Silver and Sebek…

They fight (well, Lilia distracts Malleus), then Silver uses his UM to hop into another dream.

They run into Ortho?! And then everyone is dropped off in front of Ignihyde.

FINALLY, SHROUD BROTHERS RETURN RIGHT AT THE VERY END!! I was wondering what they were doing while all this shit went down in Lilia's dream... It sounds like the next book 7 update will start off with Idia and Ortho, most likely told via flashback. I assume Ortho was able to help Idia wake up somehow?

This update felt like we got a lot of new lore!! But many of the events that played out were things we already had an inkling about prior to all of this (Meleanor dying, Lilia going on his travels eventually, Lilia helping Malleus hatch, etc.). It's nice to get the confirmation and to have the gaps of time inbetween filled in.

I really appreciate the story showing us just how hard Lilia's life was and then showing us just how important a nugget of happiness after all of that was so worth it for that moment. His VA did a stellar job with the voice acting this update, particularly the sobbing once Malleus hatched. I loved seeing Lilia's travels and how they gradually affected his own mindset over time... how he learned many different things from the people he encountered, and how he passed on that knowledge onto Malleus.

I liked seeing the origins of Lilia’s UM (he’s on a journey to find an answer)! Hearing about Sebek’s was also interesting; seeing as he’s a late bloomer with his magic and how he’s always competing with Silver, his UM manifested when Silver had been admitted to NRC and Sebek was training alone. I wonder if the UM also (in part) rose out of a feeling of inadequacy or feeling like he has to “catch up” to where Silver, Malleus, and Lilia are. No matter how hard it may be, he wants to push past his limits and serve as a knight. Maybe that, too, is why his UM prioritizes power and speed at his own body’s expense. It’s great seeing Sebek open up a little more and insist on fighting alongside fae; in modern day, Sebek has had to fight alongside humans. This is bridging the two sides of himself and helping him to reconcile with his own prejudices 😭

THE WHOLE DRAMA WITH THE SENATE MAKES ME UNDERSTAND WHY LILIA DROPPED THAT LINE ABOUT HISTORY BEING ALTERED OR REWRITTEN. It all makes so much sense now... Lilia himself (at least him hatching Malleus) was written out of history even though he did so much to help his country. He was so disliked, shunned, and shown animosity from the powers that be, and now he doesn't wish for that to happen to others, especially not to Malleus, the one good thing in his life and all that remained of the friends he lost along the way. You really see his teachings coming through in Silver and Sebek when they face off against OB Malleus towards the end. And the way I screeched when Lilia finally woke up after that...

The more I see OB Malleus, the more I get this skin-crawling feeling around him. I know the other OB boys have done arguably worse things (attempted murder, for example) but there's something so awful and insidious about the way Malleus speaks. He's intentionally gaslighting and manipulating others to just give in to his control, taking advantage of even Lilia at his lowest moments to dominate his thoughts. That's scary to think about... especially the dark inversion of Malleus urging Lilia to take his hand, when the game started off with a much more light-hearted and inviting "take my hand" offer.

Anyway!! I've been wondering for a long time what the Shrouds have been up to, and I'm so excited to see their story next update!!

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the-writer-arrived · 9 months

Text

(Arranged) Married Life with Jing Yuan

Synopsis: you became jing yuan's spouse! but it was through an arranged marriage... how do you and him navigate through your married life?

Character: jing yuan.

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, long post, mix of headcanons and drabble, a sprinkle of angst here and there, there will be a nsfw part but it will have a warning, no mention of reader's genitals.

A/N: finally caught up with hsr main story and this man suddely got me into a chokehold... and now i'm sad i don't have him ):

also, i know there are tons of fics with this prompt with him, but i wanted to make my own version hehe.

SFW

Early Stages

Due to many reasons, you got into an arranged marriage with Jing Yuan, the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu's Cloud Knights.

You weren't exactly experienced in the field of dating, preferring to focus your attention and interest in the field of your liking.

So, to say you were thrilled to be kind of forced to become someone's spouse is quite far from the truth.

Not that you dislike the general or anything! On the contrary, you have high regard not only for his incredible achievements in the battlefield throughout the many centuries, but also for the fact that he hasn't succumbed to the mara to this day.

What you don't understand is why were you chosen to be the spouse of a man so incredible? In your opinion, you don't have any outstanding qualities or stand out in your workplace and you consider your appearance to be nothing extraordinary for a human of the long-life species...

Well, your opinion is wrong, you beautiful, handsome, pretty, outstanding and amazing person!!!

TLDR: you believe that you are unworthy of being by general Jing Yuan's side, so you decide to keep your distance and naively think that he wouldn't notice nor be bothered by that.

Again, wrong!!!

After the wedding cerimony, which was barely a cerimony at all due to the true nature of the union, Jing Yuan noticed how you always found an excuse to be busy with something and spent the least amount of time with him.

And when you do... You don't act rude or anything, you engage in conversation when he attempts to start one, but he can feel a wall between you two.

Despite the circumstances of your relationship, Jing Yuan truly wishes to get to know you, to become closer to you... However, if you don't share his sentiment, then he shall respect your decision.

You are strolling around the streets of the Exalting Sanctum after basically being kicked out of your workplace for the day, the reason being that "you spend way too much time here, go live your life a little!" (words said by your boss earlier).

What should you do with this unexpected free time...?

You remember it's been some time since you have last seen Jing Yuan (one thing he had asked you to do is to call him by his name, instead of 'general' and you complied, even if you feel a bit awkward), so you decide to head to the Seat of Divine Foresight.

When it comes to the seasoned general, one would rarely find him in his office and, if you do, it'd just be his hologram... So, imagine your surprise when you not only find him there, but also it's Jing Yuan in the flesh!

He dismisses Qingzu, who gives a polite bow to the general and you, and offers you his full attention.

"What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to the Seat of Divine Foresight?" He asks you with a smile.

"I, um..." You're momentarily distracted by his face, but you recover soon, clear your throat and try again. "I was wondering if you were free for a little bit and if you would like to... spend some time with me?"

You mentally curse yourself for making it sound like a question, rather than an invitation. Why is it so hard for you to act normally with him?!

Jing Yuan, either unaware or not bothered by your nervous behavior, answers you.

"Ah, what a great timing you have. I do happen to have the afternoon free today and I'd love to spend it with you..." He lets his words trail off for a second, before adding one more thing. "...But only if that is something you also truly want."

"I got a day off, so I thought I should spend it with you in case you had the time. After all, it's expected for spouses to do that, right?"

The general closes his eyes, humming in thought and your stomach flips in an unpleasant way. You suddenly regret your words.

"I see... The last part is exactly why I had to ask you. I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to, just because it is 'what's expected' of us."

"N-NO!" You cringe at the high volume of your voice, mumbling a small sorry. "I-I mean, it's not that I don't want to! It's just... I..."

Seeing that their conversation is taking a more serious turn, Jing Yuan gently guides you to a more secluded room, where you don't have to be self-conscious about other people hearing what you have to say.

In there, you fumble a bit more with your words, but you decide to be honest about your feelings for the first time. You tell Jing Yuan about the true reason you kept your distance from him, how inadequate you feel to deserve to be called his spouse, your lack of romantic relationship experience, your fear of doing or saying something that might affect his reputation and many other things you've been holding in.

Jing Yuan listens with a heavy heart. On the one hand, he's glad that you don't dislike him, but on the other hand, he feels sad that the true reason for your distance is that you believe you are 'unworthy' of being with him...

The general knows that isn't something that can be changed with just a couple of reassuring words, however he wants you to know that you can confide in him. With that in mind, he also shares the worries he's had this whole time regarding your relationship and how he has been a coward for not reaching out to you earlier to clear up this misunderstanding.

After this much needed heart to heart, you feel tired but oh so lighter now. And when Jing Yuan asks you again if you want to spend the rest of the afternoon with him, you gladly accept it.

Warming Up to Each Other

After that talk, the relationship between you two improved by leaps and bounds.

You were worried that you wouldn't have much to talk about with Jing Yuan, but, once again, you were wrong!

You two spend a lot of time chatting, getting to know each other's likes and dislikes.

Jing Yuan often invites you to his starchess matches with Yanqing. Whether you play with them or just observe, it is very fun to watch the general and his retainer interact.

Both you and the young lieutenant were a bit awkward in the beggining, but you bonded soon enough.

The biggest proof of that is that one time you and Yanqing challanged Jing Yuan to a match of chess, confident that two minds will be enough to defeat him!

Spoiler alert: you both lost :D but there were moments when the general almost made some terrible moves because he was too distracted observing his retainer and his spouse working together with a fond look in his eyes.

At some point, being referred to or having to introduce yourself as Jing Yuan's spouse stopped being a cause of discomfort and became somewhat natural.

(Something he always reminds you is that you are your own person, first and foremost, so when he introduces you to someone, he never defines you as just his spouse).

And Jing Yuan, like a good general that he is, saw that as an opportunity to capture your heart.

This guy I swear... He uses any and every chance to charm you.

I'm sorry but I refuse to use the word 'rizz'.

You may not have much first-hand experience in relationships, but you're not that oblivious to his advances.

Genuine compliments, surprise gifts because 'he thought you'd like them', hands 'accidentaly' bumping frequently during your walks...

Really, he's almost acting like those videos of a male bird trying to impress the female one.

And it's not that you want to reject him! You just feel a bit embarrassed... Until you remember you two are literally MARRIED.

Aeons save this pair of dorks.

The first time you hold Jing Yuan's hand after he kept brushing it against yours, the general doesn't even try to hide the happy smile blooming on his face.

You'd seen him smile many times before, but that particular one will forever be integrated in your mind forever.

As for your first kiss... It happens as an accident.

You are in the Seat of Divine Foresight, sitting next to Jing Yuan while he goes through his endless pile of scrolls, reports and other types of paperwork he has to deal with. He really couldn't put them off anymore, but he also didn't want to completely cancel his plans of seeing you, so here you are...

It isn't what you had expected for the day, but you don't mind all that much. After all, it is a bit amusing to watch the general frowning like a child being forced to sit down and do his homework.

After some time mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you receive a message from your coworker, saying that something urgent came up and asking if you could come early to help.

"Sorry, I have to leave now. Something came up in my workplace and they need my help." You speak quietly to not interrupt too much of Jing Yuan's concentration.

You feel a bit bad for cutting your quality time together like this, so you lean closer to the general's face to give him a peck on his cheek as a farewell kiss.

What you don't expect, however, is for him to turn his face at the last second, probably with the intention to complain about you 'abandoning' him, which is quickly forgotten the moment your lips meet.

It... honestly isn't a nice kiss or a kiss at all. Mostly two pairs of lips mashed together and eyes blown wide in shock (you) and surprise (him). To make this whole thing even more mortifying (to you), you both are brought back to reality at the sound of an embarrassed Yanqing exclaming how 'the Seat of Divine Foresight isn't the place for PDA!!!!'

Daily Life

After you managed to recover from that marvelous and incredibly romantic, not at all cringy, accidental first kiss and gave Jing Yuan the green light... Well, your life has never been the same.

In the good sense of the phrase.

Congratulations, you now have a clingy husband!

Not that Jing Yuan wasn't clingy before, but he's been holding back quite a lot to not cross your boundaries with his touches.

Now that he can, though, good luck living without your personal space!

Whenever you two are out together, your husband always has to have some sort of contact with you: hand on your lower back, holding your hand or your pinky, arm wrapped around your waist if he wants to send a clear message that you're taken.

When you're in private, however, smooth Jing Yuan loses his place to clingy koala or lion? Jing Yuan.

The rare chances when the stars align and you both have a day off, don't expect to get out of bed in the morning and it's not even for nsfw reasons.

That man will trap you in a bear hug and will refuse to let you go... Unless you need to use the bathroom, but expect to be dragged back to bed the second you step out of there.

Jing Yuan will also use any and every opportunity to get a kiss from you: waking up? Kiss. Cooking? Kiss. Going to work? Kiss. Returning home? Kiss. You simply went to another room and came back to him? Kiss.

As much as he loves kisses on the lips, the general melts into a puddle whenever you brush his bangs away from his face, uncovering his other golden eye, to leave a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Another thing that makes Jing Yuan weak is hearing you call him your husband. It may be a bit weird to others, but considering how far you two have come since the awkward start of your relationship, it shows that your marriage feels genuine now.

Much like in any relationship, you two also have your ups and downs.

On the days you are in low spirits, please don't be afraid of saying what you want. Do you want him near? He'll hold you and lend a shoulder to cry on while you pour your heart out. You'd rather be alone? No problem at all, he'll give you space for as long as you wish, but he'll also buy your favorite snacks, a book you mentioned you were interested in, send Mimi your way in case you want to cuddle with the lion.

When Jing Yuan is the one feeling sad, that's when things get a bit tricky, because he'll try to keep it to himself and pretend that everything is fine to not worry you.

You know when Jing Yuan does that little thing of closing his eyes as if he's in pain before smiling? THAT SHIT BREAKS ME MAN.

You have to remind this silly man of yours that he doesn't have to hide his uncertainties and fears from you, since you are his spouse and not a soldier that will lose morale at the sight of the Arbiter-General showing 'weakness'.

Jing Yuan, general of the Cloud Knights for many centuries, had received training to withstand pain on the off-chance of being captured by the enemy forces and possibly tortured in an attempt to extract information about the Xianzhou Alliance. Due to that, any and every secret and relevant information shall never escape from his tightly sealed lips.

...But then, how do you manage to do it?

With a single pull of his shoulder, you have him laid down on your lap, your defty fingers freeing his hair from the red ribbon and untangling the stubborn knots of his white locks...

When Jing Yuan realizes it, it's already too late. Feelings from deep inside his heart are pouring out of his lips before he can stop it. His worries, his fears, the nightmares that plague him, the sadness of reuniting with old friends just to find out they aren't the same as he remembers...

He doesn't understand how you do it.

"I will be by your side in sickness and in health, for the good and the bad. So, please, my love... Don't carry it all by yourself. Don't shield me from your pain, let's face it together. I shall do the same."

That is what you had said to him one time.

Jing Yuan has a high pain tolerance, but all it takes is a single touch, a single word, a single glance from you for his defences to crumble down.

He now understands that your secret technique to make him talk is to show your love.

The content ahead is about sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you continue reading, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel with this. You have been warned.

NSFW

Your Sexual Lives

First of all, I am a firm believer that our Jing Yuan here is a big switch.

There are days when he's the dom and will make you lose the hability to think of anything else aside from him. And there are days when he's the sub, completely at your mercy to have him roll his eyes back in pleasure.

For your first time together, it is more of an exploration and getting to know each other's bodies. Even if you've had sex before in your life, it is always a new experience with a new person.

There isn't much that Jing Yuan isn't down to give it a try in the bedroom. However, he draws the line with things that can cause you serious pain like knifeplay or hardcore BDSM practices, and the more unsanitary kinks.

He isn't against degradation per se, but he can't bring himself to not mix it with a few praises.

Phrases such as "My slut is doing so well, taking my cock all the way in." or "What a pretty little thing you are, darling... Don't even look like your mouth is my favorite cumdump." make you moan so loud it's embarrassing.

When your husband is in a dom mood, he muffles his sounds the best he can by biting down on his lips or burying his handsome face in the crook of your neck, not because he's ashamed of them, no no no. He does that so he can listen to your cries and moans and babbles, while the bullies your hole.

It's just so hot for him to know he can turn you into a mess, speaking nothing but his name and how good it feels and how full you are.

Speaking of full, my man here causes quite the stretch, so thorough preparation and lube are needed for you to have the least amount of pain when being on the receiving end of the penetration.

He may end up making you cum on his fingers alone during prep tho, but you don't consider that a bad thing anyway.

When Jing Yuan is in a sub mood, by the Aeons, one may think he wants all the Xianzhou ships to know how good you're fucking him.

I'm kidding he's not THAT loud, but he doesn't make any effort to be quiet either. You wouldn't want him to anyway.

Gosh his groans are just hhMMMMMM SO DAMN HOT.

Do you see that white mane of hair he has? Give it a good pull, especially when you're taking him from behind, and marvel at the delicious sounds he makes.

Regarding his stamina, it's one or one hundred, there's no in between.

There are days when he can fuck you the whole night long (rip you in the next morning) and there are days when he can only take two rounds at most, before he's snork mimimimi next to you (he's not known as the 'Dozing General' for nothing).

But don't worry, he would never forget about aftercare! Water, a clean towel, snacks and anything else that you mind need or want after sex will be prepared before you guys start.

One of Jing Yuan's favorite ways of waking up is with you slurping on his slowly-hardening cock (all consensual of course, we don't work with non-con in this household!).

You don't know which one has the best POV during this moment: you, with the sight of him a bit dazed from sleep, brows furrowed with cheeks colored pink and hair all messy; or him, seeing you between his legs, licking and stroking his shaft, lips glistening with your own saliva and his pre-cum and pupils blown wide with lust that makes his hips buckle forward as a way to beg you to swallow him whole.

On days he doesn't feel as tired after making love with you, he enjoys taking a bath with you to relax, massaging any parts of your body that may be sore and giving sweet kisses on the hickeys and marks he left on you.

You feel so relexed, so safe, so loved that you can't help resting your eyes while he cleans you up...

The sound of a deep, gentle voice calling for name, along with a caress on your cheek stirs you awake. You blink a few times, your head turning to the source of the voice that is now chuckling. You see a pair of golden eyes staring at you lovingly, but with a hint of amusement too.

"Sorry for interruping your beauty sleep, my love, but you might catch a cold if you fall asleep in the bath."

"I wasn't sleeping. I was just resting my eyes for a bit..." Jing Yuan chuckles again, noticing the way your eyelids struggle to stay open.

Despite his previous words, he doesn't make any effort to keep you awake. Instead, he begins to hum a tune while he continues to wash your body.

You let out a sigh of bliss, leaning your back further on his strong chest. Your senses are engulfed by him: his touches, his warmth, his voice...

You love being surrounded by him, be it like when he was pounding you mercilessly earlier or taking care of you softly like right now.

"Dear?" Your husband shifts his attention to you, stopping his singing to hear what you have to say. You cup his cheek and give him a peck on the corner of his mouth. "I love you."

Jing Yuan's eyes widen in surprise for a second, before they soften with a smile gracing his lips.

"I love you too, my beloved." He gently holds your chin to give a proper kiss on the lips.

You thank the Aeons for allowing you to cross paths with the man before you. All the difficulties and challanges in the beggining were all worth facing, now that they have brought you to this moment.

To love and feel loved like this... You hope to hold onto these feelings for the rest of your life as you walk towards the future with Jing Yuan.

thanks for reading! likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

pink jing yuan banner (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

#blue.writes: honkai star rail #blue.writes: jing yuan #blue.writes: fluff #blue.writes: smut #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #honkai star rail smut #minors dni #not suitable for minors

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rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

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.

2K notes · View notes

phntmeii · 8 months

Text

♡ Dating Aegon II Targaryen Headcanons:

❝ But… If you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied…❝

[SFW+NSFW + AFAB!Reader]

General Warnings: sad!Aegon, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of neglect

NSFW Section Warnings: pervert!Aegon, AFAB Terms, Somnophilia, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Sensory Deprivation

A/N: Still upset about his characterization in the show :/ Poor TGC was trying so hard to save this character. Appreciate that he gave us pathetic wet dog vibe for Aegon at the least

SFW Headcanons:

☀️ Aegon has desperate issues regarding love especially the idea of someone loving him. He’s been completely neglected by his father, only valued by his mother as a “rightful” king and struggles with alcoholism as a result.

☀️ Having you see him not as a ruler, not as a prince, not as a chess piece in a political game, but as a person has his mind confused.

☀️ It takes a bit of time for him to entertain the idea of you valuing him as true but once he does, he’s latched onto you like his life depends on it.

☀️ And I mean literally latched on. He is unashamed at how clingy he is to you. Arms always wrapped around you in the hall and keeping his eyes to yours.

☀️ Aegon is only willing to listen to you without complaining too much. Maybe a whine or two but he’s totally whipped so he’s on his way to do as you ask.

☀️ He’d LOVE for you to meet Sunfyre. If you are unaccustomed to dragons, he makes sure to slowly introduce you because he wants you to love his dragon as much as he does.

☀️ Always dreams about running away with you. He’ll be cuddling with you and ask about it. Even if it was impossible, he’d like to dream about going off somewhere in Essos, away from the throne.

☀️ “Love, simply listen to me… Imagine it. We could run off on the first ship out of this blasted kingdom. It could be just us…”

☀️ Alicent would simultaneously love and hate you. She enjoys the company of women and finally, someone has found a way to handle Aegon. But, she’d also be weary of this on account of her father because Aegon being infatuated with you means he’s more willing to listen to you than his council.

☀️ Rather than ditch his duties to attempt escapes, to drink or to whore, he’s sneaking off to see you if it’s been too long. He insists you stay by him during meetings or other duties to keep him from “going mad”.

☀️ Aegon can get very jealous when he sees you with other men because he knows what they’re thinking when they look at you. But you are his. No one else’s.

☀️ And considering he’s the firstborn and a prince, he has absolutely no problem getting petty because there would be no serious consequences. (Bonus tag team with Aemond.)

☀️ Aegon’s main Love Languages to give are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.

☀️ Aegon is obsessed with your body completely. He wants to do everything to have you in his arms.

☀️ He is unashamed with PDA. He’s kissing you almost every couple of minutes. He’s walking down the halls all smiles because he’s holding your hand.

☀️ Aegon’s need for you is constant and his mood quickly sours if he’s pulled away from duty rather than being able to spend his time with you.

☀️ He’d whisk you away onto Sunfyre for a joyride just so he can be away from everyone but you. Consider it a romantic gesture because in his mind it is.

☀️ He thinks it’s like when the knight saves the princess in the stories.

☀️ Lingers in the mornings just so he can have you by him for longer. The sun is hurting his eyes this early in the morning so what better than to bury his head in your chest and softly ask you to stay as he caresses your perfect body.

☀️ Aegon’s favorite Love Languages to receive are: Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation.

☀️ Aegon wants to feel special. To feel taken care of. To feel loved. So anytime you go out of your way to assist him, his eyes are sparkling as he looks at you.

☀️ You tidied the bedchamber? Have prepared his clothing? You’ve had his sword cleaned and polished? You’re practically begging for this man to be completely and utterly obsessed and he’s littering you in kisses in appreciation.

☀️ And, of course, he wants praise. No one has validated him and simply valued him as a person so he yearns for your words.

☀️ Something as simple as “I’m proud of you” has him close to shedding tears because no one tells him that.

☀️ He wants to hear you say “I love you” as much as possible so he’ll say it all the time just to hear you say it back.

NSFW Headcanons:

☀️ At first, he has to be dominant and take control. He’s been cut out of having control in all other aspects of his life that he needs some semblance of power.

☀️ You can trust that he knows what he’s doing. Although some of his fucking has been done while drunk, he’s done it and experimented enough to know what gets him off and what gets you off.

☀️ Only after some time will he trust to submit himself in bed. It’s scary to him. To lose control in another aspect of his life. But he trusts you and he loves you.

☀️ And surprisingly, being so slow, gentle and loving to him, it felt amazing. Having you ride him, hands interlocked and meeting each other’s eyes.

☀️ His favorite part of you are your tits. Seeing them bounce as you ride him, needing to touch and feel them.

☀️ He whimpers and cries when he’s getting close, begging you not to stop. He’s clearly needy just by the way he’s grabbing onto any part of you that you let him.

☀️ When he’s more comfortable with being submissive, he’s whiny in his needs. Tugging at your gown anytime you two are alone, insisting he needs to at least have a look.

☀️ “Please, my love… Please! Just one look! Gods, you have no idea how much I crave you.”

☀️ Aegon’s hand would try to slip under your gown under the table at dinner, insist that only he needs to assist you in bathing which is definitely just an excuse to fuck, and just straight up jack off when you two are alone in your bedchamber, pleading for you to touch him.

☀️ Aegon could definitely cum with the punishment of only being able to hump at your leg. The humiliation of being so desperate gets him off like nothing else.

☀️ He can be bratty sometimes but it’s all purposeful. He wants you to punish him because you both know it leads to being tangled around each other in bed.

☀️ Oh, and Aegon is absolutely unashamed about being loud. The louder the better in his opinion. He wants everyone and anyone to know how fucking good you two fuck and for how long.

☀️ He’d leave whatever chamber you two were in with a smug grin, knowing that no one could match the passion you two share.

☀️ Aegon has average stamina and lasts as long as you edge him for. He could go 2-3 a times a day and still ask for more even when he’s a shaking mess.

☀️ Sit on this man’s face. Period. No questions asked. If he can breathe, he isn’t satisfied. Suffocate him entirely, clamp onto his head with your thighs and watch him eat you out like a starved madman.

☀️ Aegon is a whore for praise and he makes it known when he’s giving you head. He gets so easily pussy drunk it’s insane. His eyes are locked onto you, only parting from your swollen, abused cunt to hear how well he’s doing.

☀️ “My love… Please tell me how well I’m doing… I’m being good, am I not?”

☀️ One of his favorite things would be longer sessions where he’s blindfolded and completely up to your control. Have fun with waxplay and sensory deprivation and watch his cock twitch and leak precum at each touch.

☀️ Sometimes you’d wake up to him already rubbing his cock against your cunt, feeling the wetness already coating him. His forehead pressed to your back as he softly moaned. It’s so easy for him to get turned on when you’re so close to him.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#asoiaf #asoiaf headcanons #asoiaf x reader #hotd #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd headcanons #hotd imagine #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the elder #aegon x reader #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x reader #hotd x you #aegon ii headcanons

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slut4thebroken · 11 months

Text

Chapter one: Trophy

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Arkham Knight/Jason Todd x Bruce’s daughter!reader

Summary | The Arkham Knight kidnapped you, but not for the reason you originally thought.

Warnings | Angst, fluff, a sprinkle of sexual tension, kidnapping, use of r word.

Words | 2.3 k

Notes | The wait is over!! I hope y’all like it. If it makes you happy, sad, or horny then consider commenting or reblogging :) Enjoy <3

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You weren’t a vigilante. No, you’d decided very early on that spending your nights fighting crime wasn’t something you really wanted to do. However, that didn’t stop your father from teaching you self defense and other important skills, even if you weren’t going to use them. He always wanted you to be prepared in case one day someone makes the connection and somehow finds out you’re Batman’s daughter.

Unfortunately, they did find out.

Your father had told you to leave Gotham, but you’re stubborn. Especially after Barbara was taken, you knew he was going to need more help. So you stayed, taking up Oracle’s position in the watchtower. The second he heard your voice, you were sure he was about to come here and drag you out of Gotham himself. The only reason he didn’t was because he got held up with another one of Gotham's villains causing chaos on the streets. You weren’t there long before glass was being broken and men were swarming the room, Arkham Knight included.

“I knew I’d find you here after I got rid of Oracle.” You narrowed your eyes at him and tried backing away to the panic button on the desk, but he stopped you. “Push that and Oracle’s dead. You don’t want that on your conscience do you?” You froze, furrowing your brows, wondering how he knew about it. He slowly stalked toward you and you eyed the men surrounding the room. Their guns were angled to the floor, but they still had their fingers on the triggers.

“You went through all the trouble of taking Oracle just so you could come back and take me?” You scoffed. This time when you started moving backwards, it was because of how close he was getting.

“That and she was becoming a bit of a thorn in my side.” He all but shrugged. Stopping right in front of you, you watched his helmet just barely tilt down before making its way back up, angled at your face.

“What do you want?” You spat, leaning your torso back after your legs met the desk.

“You.”

“Why?”

“Hedonism,” He shrugged, “self indulgence… spite.” You didn’t have time to ask what that meant. “Are you going to come willingly or am I going to have to make you?” Even though it didn’t seem like he had any intention of hurting you, you still tried to think of a way out of this.

You made the stupid, impulsive decision to reach for the panic button and you actually managed to press it before he grabbed your wrist. He spun you around, then pushed your torso against the desk with your arm twisted uncomfortably behind you. Stepping forward, he pressed his hips flush with your ass, making your cheeks grow warm from the compromising position. Suddenly the screen lit up, showing Batman.

When you started trying to speak, he lifted your body, one hand wrapping over your stomach and arms, the other covering your mouth.

“It’s a shame you raised such an independent, altruistic daughter. If you hadn’t, she wouldn’t be here right now.”

“What do you want? Do you want me to turn myself in? I will- just let her go.” His voice was laced with poorly concealed desperation and fear.

“This isn’t part of the main plan, it’s a personal thing. A trophy of sorts.” His hand started rubbing up and down your side, each time making its way closer to your breast and your pants. “See, people think you don’t have any fears, but you do. Something happening to your little girl is your biggest fear. But don’t worry, Dark Knight,” His hand made its way up your chest to your neck and he squeezed as he pulled you against his body, making you release a muffled whimper. “I’m going to take real good care of her.” He released you and pushed you against the desk again.

“Dad, don’t-“ Before you could finish, the man behind you was turning off the feed. He tied your wrists behind your back, then pulled you up again.

“Just like old times, isn’t it?” He said quietly, next to your ear, making you furrow your brows in confusion. Pulling you back, he spun both of you around and pushed you toward the men.

“He’ll kill you.” You said lowly, turning back to face him.

“Someone put a gag on her. Anyone hurts her… they’re a dead man.” He said, walking back to the desk and typing something into the computer. You didn’t get to see what he was doing before someone grabbed you from behind. You yanked yourself out of their grip, then turned around and kicked the man in the stomach, continuing like that. Anyone who approached you got a kick to the legs, stomach, or groin. Despite your bound hands, you still had an advantage because of the order they were given.

When you swung your leg at someone’s side, he grabbed it and pulled, making you land flat on your back with a grunt. The man froze and all eyes were either on him or the Arkham Knight. He sighed, then pulled out a gun and shot the man in the head.

“I’ll do it myself then.” He swiftly walked toward you and you backed away from him, still on the floor. Before you knew it, you were being gagged and pulled up, then dragged outside to a car. You weren’t sure why, but after getting in the vehicle, he removed the gag. Why did he go through all of that trouble just to immediately take it off once you were alone? You thought. After a few minutes of silence you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why did you kill that man?”

“He had orders. He didn’t follow them.” He said simply.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe. Which reminds me,” He got out a black hood and moved toward you, making you lean back. “Either you let me put it on or you die. Up to you.”

“You seriously expect me to believe you’re going to kill me after all the trouble you went through?” You scoffed.

“No, I won’t be killing you. But I’m sure Scarecrow would love to have a chat with Batman’s daughter.” You debated it for a moment, then leaned back closer to him, letting him out the hood over your head.

After another few minutes of driving, he stopped and you heard his door open and close, then your door open before he was grabbing your arm and pulling you out, leading you somewhere. When he finally took the hood off, you saw what looked like an apartment, but it didn’t have any windows.

“Where are we?” You asked, turning to him.

“Safe house.” Was the only reply you got so you continued.

“Why did you take me?”

“It wasn’t safe. Especially if Crane found out you were helping your dad.” That made your brows furrow in confusion. He went through all of that just to take you somewhere safe?

“Then why did you say all of that stuff to him?” You asked, growing more nervous when you remembered his words.

“You didn’t actually think I brought you here to rape you, did you?” He scoffed. You didn’t respond, so he continued with a shrug, “It had to be believable.” When he started walking away, you moved forward and called out to him. He whipped around and put a hand on your neck to push you backwards until he had you against the wall. Your breath hitched at the second compromising position of the night.

“I’m done answering your questions. Either sit down and stay quiet or I’ll gag you again.”

“How am I supposed to sit if you’re pinning me to the wall?” You raised your brows, not bothering to hide the sass in your tone.

“Still have that fire in you.” He chuckled, making your brows furrow.

“Why are you doing that? Talking like you know me.” You asked quietly.

“Because I do know you. Better than most.” You just stared at him, waiting for him to answer your question. “I could give you a hint, princess…” He said lowly, trailing his freehand down your waist to your hip. Your eyes widened at the nickname- only one person has ever called you that. “Show you that I can still easily make you fall apart with just my fingers.” Because your hands were still bound, you couldn’t push his hand away, so you squirmed under him, trying to free yourself.

“Tone down the creepiness, perv.” You spat and he was silent for a moment.

“I figured you’d be in denial, but I didn’t think it would be this hard to convince you.” He said quietly, almost as if to himself. “Either that or you’ve just completely forgotten about me.” There was only one person he could be talking about. But he’s dead.

“I’ve never fucking met you before.” You spat. He didn’t respond as he reached a hand up to his helmet.

“Stop.” You said harshly, making his hand freeze. Despite your hard exterior, you were terrified that the Arkham Knight might be who you think. You had just finally started healing. You don't break down crying every single day anymore, you’re finally able to let yourself fall asleep, only a few nights a week having nightmares that your subconscious created since you didn’t truly know what happened to him- your father refused to show you. Which was probably for the best.

But even with your words, he continued, until the front part of his helmet was lifting. You squeezed your eyes shut before you could see him and his hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek.

“Princess.” He whispered.

“No- no,” You shook your head, still refusing to open your eyes even though his voice made it obvious. “I- I can’t… No.”

“Baby, look at me.” He uttered softly and you let out a choked sob. His other hand cupped your cheek as well, using his thumb to wipe the tear that had fallen. “Please.” You wanted to do what he said because you were so damn curious, but you were scared of what you’d find. Even with that fear though, you couldn’t stop your eyes from fluttering open. You took in his face, he looked older, that much was obvious, but still looked like your Jason. The only difference was the large J scar on his cheek.

“Jason,” You sobbed, feeling too many emotions at once. Happiness filled your chest knowing that he’s alive and came back for you, but nausea filled your stomach as your brain started to imagine all the ways he could’ve gotten that scar. “I-I don’t understand.” You whimpered, wishing your hands were free so you could feel him, make sure you weren’t just imagining this.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He said softly, pulling you into a hug. As your head laid on his chest, you noticed that he smelled different. But he still had that hint of Jason.

“He told me you were dead,” You cut yourself off as your crying intensified. When Jason stiffened, you pulled back to look at him. “What?” You croaked. He just let out a dry chuckle.

“I knew you wouldn’t stop looking for me. Figures he would’ve told you that.” He scoffed

“What? Jay, I don’t understand.” You sniffled, looking at him with furrowed brows.

“The only way to get you to stop was if you believed I was dead so that’s what he did.” He said simply.

“W- no! There was a video- Joker sent him the video of your death.” You vividly remember the day your father told you about it.

“Did he show you it?”

“He… No, he didn’t want me to see it.” He looked at you knowingly and you furrowed your brows in confusion. “He wouldn’t make that up, he wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

“No! He- he wouldn’t…” Would he? You were in the batcave almost 24 hours a day, looking for him. You barely ate, you didn’t sleep, the only breaks you allowed yourself were going to the bathroom and when you couldn’t hold in the crying anymore.

“No, he wouldn’t do that to me- to you.” Shaking your head, you didn’t let yourself believe it. Your father spent months looking for him too.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first either, but that’s just who he is. He uses people, then leaves them for dead when they need his help.” You've never heard him sound so vindictive before. “I’m sure he was more than happy to get rid of the guy who was screwing his little girl.” He sneered, making you frown. “He never did approve of us, did he?”

“That’s not true.”

“No?”

“No! He knew you loved me and I loved you. He was just worried about my safety since I was the daughter and girlfriend of two vigilantes.”

“It wasn’t that.” He let out an unnerving chuckle before elaborating. “He had a talk with me, you know. He didn’t want me defiling his precious angel. Pretty ironic given your overly sexual nature.” That made you frown. He didn’t exactly say it like it was a bad thing, but it didn’t sound like a compliment either. “He disapproved from the start and things never truly went back to normal between us. But he played the part in front of you.”

“That doesn’t- He… Is that why you said those things to him?” His gaze hardened and you waited anxiously for his response. When he stepped away from you, you immediately missed his warmth.

“He deserves so much worse than thinking that someone kidnapped and raped his daughter. This is just the start.” When he started walking toward the door you pushed yourself off the wall.

“Jason, wait!” You called out, but he was already almost out the door.

“Don’t bother trying to escape.”

Chapter two

———

Tag list lol

@igotanidea

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #angst #fluff #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight

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ferris-the-wheel · 7 months

Text

TWST relationship headcanons!!

Info: Six months after you start dating the respective character.

Author's note: The characters were chosen by a friend at random (with no context). I'm also still on Chapter 6 of the main storyline and don't know much about the main Diasomnia characters' pasts, so these hcs will take place before then, I guess?

TW: Maybe a tiny bit of angst(?)

When you two first started dating, he was so happy that he couldn't sleep. He was actually surprised to find that he hadn't randomly fallen asleep during the day as he normally did.

After that, he'd spend a lot of time around you, concluding that it was because of you that he didn't fall asleep.

Since he's basically the adopted brother of Malleus, he undoubtedly has at least some money. He likes to buy you surprise gifts so that he can see you smile. which makes him happier as well.

He invites you over to Diasomnia a lot (encouraged by Lilia), which he's perfectly fine with as, as stated earlier, he likes spending time with you.

His favorite pastime is sitting somewhere where you two can see the stars at night like a balcony or somewhere where there are a lot of windows (though he prefers being outside).

He's such a good boyfriend, I mean, he was raised and trained as a knight. If someone is giving you trouble, expect Silver to give them a very stern talking to (with or without Malleus beside him as incentive).

He's a very calm and comforting presence, making you feel better if you're feeling down and cheering you up.

I don't think he'd mind PDA, but I feel like he'd be a bit more reserved with it, so he'd settle for holding hands while you're walking or stuff like that.

He's very pleased that you agreed to date him, but also very sad. He feels like a bad person because he knows that by dating you, you'll eventually grow old and die while he'll live on. He thinks he's depriving you of a "normal life" with another human.

You've worked very hard to convince him that he's the one you want to be with and that you don't want anyone else.

He spoils you A LOT. He'll splurge a shit ton of money on fancy dates, gifts, and other things. He spoils you to the point where you have almost no empty floor space in your room, so you had to ask him to stop spending so much on you (though you felt bad about this because of the expression on his face).

Aside from that, he's extremely loyal to you. Despite your reassurances, he thinks that at least if he's going to deprive you of a mortal love, then he's going to pride himself in being the most loyal boyfriend (hopefully husband later) ever.

He's very happy that Lilia approves of you and that you two get along. He enjoys walking in on you two hanging out and genuinely appreciating each others' company. He's also very grateful that you help prevent kitchen disasters by monitoring babysitting Lilia while he's "cooking".

I don't really think he'd exactly know what PDA is or what qualifies as PDA, so he'd just walk up to you and either a) act as normal or b) be a bit affectionate such as a kiss (on the lips or cheek, he doesn't care) or he'd wrap his arm around you. If you aren't a fan though, he'd refrain from doing so.

His personality made it very hard for you to trust him in the beginning, as he's very sly, but you eventually learned to trust him more. He'd be happy if you were rich but he'd empathize if you weren't. He doesn't care if you have a lot of money a lot, as he definitely isn't rich either.

If you give him something (especially food), he'll be extremely happy. He'll be even happier if you give him enough to feed his community back home. Give him some donuts and he'll be in heaven, literally wondering what a crook like him did to deserve someone like you (just for giving him donuts).

He may feel bad dating you since you can give him things like food and other presents while he can't really afford to buy things for you or take you anywhere. He does extra tasks for Leona in exchange for money, but you wouldn't let him spend it on you and told him to save it or give it to the people back home.

Therefore, he shows his love by hugs, stealing quick kisses on your cheek, goofing around, and snuggling (if one of you is in the mood). He'll randomly grab your hand while you're walking or carry things for you in the hallways, little things like that.

I think he'd be impartial toward PDA, he'd base it off of your preferences. If you aren't a fan of PDA, he'd dial it down to when it's just the two of you. If you like PDA or don't mind it, he'd be doing the things above (cheek kisses, hand grabbing, hugs, etc.).

How you managed to even talk to this dude in person, that's a mystery. You probably met on the internet and wound up meeting that way. But now that you're in his life, good luck trying to get out. He isn't used to people showing any form of affection toward him (or human interaction in general), so once you become what he considers a friend, he's not letting you go easily.

Once you start dating? Oh yeah, you are never getting rid of him. Not to say he's clingy (that's a lie, he's a bit clingy), but he'd be texting you constantly wanting to know if you want to game or Netflix and chill.

He's not exactly a romantic but you don't mind (or hopefully you don't if you're dating Idia). He isn't a big fan of physical touch, so quality time is likely the way to go. I hc that he's a very snuggly person despite this, when he's in the mood. I think he's a little spoon (he's too awkward to be big spoon).

He's like, the most loyal guy ever (I mean, he never goes anywhere and doesn't talk to almost anyone). You would never have to worry about unfaithfulness with this guy, he's wayyyyy too attached to you now that you've infiltrated his little gamer den (and his heart).

PDA? Banish the thought from your mind. This is Idia, he doesn't leave his room unless absolutely necessary. If you wanted any PDA from him, you'd have to fight all the phantoms in Tartarus/the Underworld (and maybe not even then) for him to want to do anything like PDA. If PDA is a must on your list, Idia is not your guy.

Hiii! How you guys doing? I hope you enjoyed this post. I'll post part 2 innn..... three? four days? Hope you don't mind. You can send whatever requests you want (as long as they follow my rules)! Bye~~!!! 🧡

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knightsickness · 6 months

Note

Who do you think from the main series would be canonised, if anyone?

!! thank you for this one i had to think about it. this is assuming the organised faith persists in westeros past the end of ados

it’s been said but cat is a nobrainer dutiful wife and mother pious had a sept built at winterfell died trying to protect her son saint of the mother immediately. that time she prayed in the sept and then tried to settle the stannis renly clash by appealing to their fraternity is basically already a sermon on the Love of a Holy Mother. i will say lady stoneheart’s riverlands reign of terror IS damaging her campaign idk what the seven’s stance on revenants is but the medieval church thought specifically that saints’ bodies were purer and couldn’t be puppeted by demons as a lesser person might be + saints’ souls go directly to heaven and would not be bothering the living

brienne joan of arc figure maid of tarth etc. doing riverlands charity work with clergymen famously chaste and good does depend how her story ends but she’s a contender. unfortunately the church would definitely depict her conventionally attractive saint brienne patron of maidens oathkeeping and the isle of tarth would not look like brienne

massively depends how the sparrow storyline ends but if cersei blows up the sept with a lot of them inside that’s a literal martyr explosion i could especially see the high sparrow with his Eating Sparingly Out Of Love For The Poor. also the last high septon cersei had killed. lancel contender i’m not sure the faith is too hot on lannisters rn but there’s something there w him he’s got the born again convert and aceticism. being a lann traitor might work for him

related + also massively depends how she dies and how the trial by seven goes but i think marg as a saint of the maiden could be fun. married three times never consummated once (officially), cruelly slandered as a whore by the most significant enemy of the faith since maegor but all the testimony against her was false. she doesn’t have her physical maidenhead apparently but it’s said multiple times most noble girls don’t bc horseriding can easily break it. beloved by the smallfolk prays in the public sept very into giving alms. even if the faith can’t get past the maidenhead could definitely see blessed margaery. consider sansa for similar reasons esp assuming organised faith still exists after cersei’s death being a pious long-suffering maiden personally victimised by cersei lannister feels like a canonisation fast track

davos has a lot going for him as a saint esp if you polish the onion knighting into a parable instead of savvy business (you can charge starving people whatever you like) but his blasphemous allegiance to noted heathen stannis makes it less likely. unless he kills stannis in which case his saint cred shoots back up. a troubled youth then refinds the seven to combat a wicked heathen sorceress because he knows it to be right despite his love for stannis etc the faith could spin it

the idea that after joff died cersei immediately tried to have him canonised bc he’s her specialest boy is very funny. it’s also fun bc even though i’ve seen some people pull for saint robb robb is wayyyy too much an old gods pagan worshipper despite having every opportunity to follow the faith so saint joffrey the just is significantly likelier. robb is a sad footnote in the Life of St Catelyn

#not exhaustive list but some of the first i thought of #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #catelyn stark #brienne of tarth #lancel lannister #margaery tyrell #sansa stark #davos seaworth #joffrey baratheon #robb stark

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burntheedges · 3 months

Text

Maintenance Request: Chapter 7

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 2.4k

a/n: happy Friday! I think it's about time for Joel to come back and fix that shelf, don't you? chapter tags/warnings: fluff, banter, drink mention, for the purposes of this chapter reader likes a certain coffee drink but feel free to imagine a different one, flirting

Chapter 7

Wednesday, October 9 Seventh week of the semester

A week had passed since your impromptu tour of the department with Sarah and Joel, and you hadn’t seen him in that time, but you had interacted over email a bit.

You emailed him your dissertation as promised, and he replied that Sarah was already reading it. You told him to reassure her that you would not be offended if she didn’t read the whole thing, but apparently she’d scoffed and just hunkered down. He sent you a picture of her curled into the corner of a very comfortable looking couch, eyes on her laptop screen, frowning in concentration. It made you smile and give up protesting. Ellie, who had spent most of Saturday at your apartment, had teased you endlessly when she caught you grinning at your phone during movie night.

Your morning wasn’t quite as bad as the one when you’d met Joel, but it hadn’t gone particularly smoothly, either. Rain had slowed down your commute and troubled your walk from the garage. You finally found yourself in front of your building, juggling your bag, your keys, an umbrella, and the coffee you’d splurged on (again) to try and turn the morning around.

Of course, when you tried to close the umbrella one-handed, your juggling skills failed. The coffee slipped from your grasp, spilling upward and outward in a fountain when the cup hit the ground by the steps. You stared at it for a moment before sighing, face turned up towards the rain. Of course.

You didn’t see him at the time, but Joel had apparently seen the whole mess. You learned this a couple of hours later, finally dry and snug in your office after your class, when there was a knock on the door. You called for whoever it was to come in, and to your surprise, Joel Miller sidled through your open door, large tool box in one hand and steaming cup of coffee in the other.

“Mornin’, darlin’. Thought I might swing by to work on that bookshelf,” he nodded towards your wall. “And replace the coffee I thought you might be missing.” He winked and gave you the half smile that had caught your eye the week before as he set the tool box down on the floor. For a moment you just stared at him, stunned, and then you felt your cheeks heat.

“You saw that?” You asked, embarrassed but already knowing the answer. He smiled, fully this time. “Yeah, I was across the quad, too far away to do much good. Thought maybe this was the next best thing.” He rubbed his free hand against the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish.

You took him in — his typical dark jeans, boots, and flannel shirt snug around his distractingly broad shoulders. Hair slightly damp from the rain, eyes warm and kind. You felt your face stretch into the type of smile you might use on a date. “Joel Miller, my knight in shining armor, hmm?” It was his turn to blush.

“I can’t promise armor, but I do have a tool belt.” He gestured down at it, and you laughed.

“I’ll take it. That’ll probably be of more help to my sad bookshelf, anyway.” He smiled and handed you the coffee. You took it gladly.

He nodded towards it and said, “wasn’t sure what you’d like, but Sarah promised me I couldn’t go wrong with one of the seasonal things. And I remember you said you liked lattes, when you were showing her the kitchen. Is that alright?” You looked down and took in the drink label, which proclaimed it to be a pumpkin spice latte. You couldn’t believe he’d asked Sarah what to get you.

You grinned. “It’s perfect, Joel. It’s the exact drink I spilled all over the steps an hour ago.” He laughed, and you watched his shoulders relax. Apparently he’d been worried. Cute.

“Well, I’ll take a look at your shelf. I might need to make a little noise — will that bother you?” He looked over at you as he dug in his toolbox for something.

You shrugged. “I’ll be honest, I’ll probably just talk to you instead of trying to work. Go right ahead.” He turned back to look for whatever he was trying to find, but you saw the corner of his mouth lift in a pleased smile.

“How’s Sarah getting on with my brick of a dissertation?” Your tone was self-deprecating, as every academic you’d ever met usually was when talking about that part of their career. You watched as he got out a level and some measuring tape.

“Well, darlin’, it can’t be as bad as you keep saying, not with the way she’s burning through it.”

You bit your lip around a smile. “Oh?”

He nodded. “Can I move some of these books? Where do you want ‘em?” You moved to help and after placing your books on the chairs in front of your desk and the empty area on your small table by the door, he returned to the shelf. “But yeah, she’s really enjoying it. Gave me a little lecture on space and metaphors and, uh, what was it… expansiveness, last night over dinner.” You groaned and put your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sure that was boring.” Out of the corner of your eye you noticed he’d stopped working and turned towards you, so you looked up.

He was considering you, head tilted, face unreadable. After a moment of working his jaw, seemingly worrying over his response, he asked, “why do you keep puttin’ yourself down like that? From what she told me, it sounded brilliant. I won’t pretend to have the right words, not about poetry or literature anyway. But I could tell it was smart and insightful and, well. Somethin’ special.” He kept eye contact with you as he praised your work in words that felt more genuine than anything else ever had, even at your dissertation defense. Even from your advisor.

“Oh! Well, thank you. I mean, I think…” you took a breath, flustered, and looked down at your hands on your desk. You tried to find the right words. “I think it’s just that everyone feels that way about their dissertation, at least a little bit. It’s something that represents the end of a huge amount of work and effort, but at the same time, it’s also your first step in an academic career, you know? Your writing is always improving, your skills are always growing.” You paused to think and fiddled with the edge of your stack of post-it notes. “So it’s easy to look back, I guess, and see all the flaws. But maybe I should do as I teach my students and see it as ways I’ve grown, instead.” You looked back up to meet his gaze. You suddenly felt exposed, like you’d just laid yourself open for him. But when you saw his face you realized you should have known by now that Joel would treat those parts of you gently.

He was smiling at you softly as he considered your words. He nodded. “I can see that. But flawed or not, from what I heard, it sounded like the work of someone who really knew their stuff.”

“Heard?” You can’t help but ask, worried he meant exactly what you were thinking.

“Yeah, the lecture included dramatic readings of her favorite parts,” he confirmed, grinning now. “You really seem to like long sentences, huh?” He winked again as he teased you and this time you took it without hiding your face, just grinned back at him.

“Guilty as charged,” you agreed. “It may have been noted during my defense. And by quite a few editors.”

Joel laughed. He turned back to the shelf to continue his work, and asked, “so, what else do you like to do, aside from reading and teaching and writing? Though you do those so well, not sure how you’d have time for much else.” You felt warmed by the compliment and studied the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders stretched and flexed as he repositioned your shelf on the wall.

“Well, I do read a lot. Fit that stereotype pretty neatly,” you confessed. “But I also like movies. And music. Especially live music.”

He smiled at you over his shoulder. “Ah, that’s one we have in common, then, darlin’. I’m a fan of live music myself.” Suddenly you felt a little nervous, getting an inkling of where this might be going. Your heart started racing in anticipation.

“Oh? Any favorites?” You could hear your nerves in your voice, but you hoped he couldn’t. You watched as he reached up high on the wall and the hem of his flannel rose to the top edge of his jeans.

“I’m easy,” he replied absently. “But there’re a few places around here that have good live music nights.” You hummed, thoroughly distracted by the hint of skin that was exposed along his waistband. He started to say something else, and you were waiting eagerly to hear what it might be, when there was another knock on your office door.

You called for whoever it might be to come in, and to your great displeasure, Trevor stuck his head around your door. He didn’t bother to greet you. “I heard you in here and wanted to ask you about the coffee next week.” He said, referring to the biweekly coffee chat the grad students held, which you had been in charge of last year but weren’t this year.

“I’m not in charge of that this year,” you reminded him mildly. “You need to talk to Renee.”

His surprise at your response was clearly fake, but he nodded. “Right, must have forgotten. Ah well. What do we have here?” This question was asked with much greater interest, and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “I wasn’t aware of any construction going on today.”

“It’s not construction, Trevor, it’s a maintenance request. This is Joel.” You gestured towards the man, who was working quietly.

“Oh, we’ve met.” Joel interjected mildly. “There was that computer mishap last April.”

Trevor actually flushed, and stood up ramrod straight. “Yes, um. Well. I’ll go see Renee.” He scuttled off at a speed you’d assumed he was incapable of, until now. You turned to Joel and found him looking at you. “What was that about?” You got up and stepped towards the door to make sure he was really gone, but Trevor wasn’t in the hallway or anywhere in sight.

“Man’s a pest,” Joel grumbled. “Put in a maintenance request in the spring because his computer monitor wasn’t tilted how he wanted it. Wasted our time calling us back and forth because he refused to try to fix it himself. By the end I was wonderin’ if he just kept movin’ it so he could call us back to change it again. Or if he just didn’t know what he wanted. And he was rude every time.” You scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Good to know he’s not just shitty to us, then, I guess.” You sighed. “I get the feeling he didn’t actually forget he needed to talk to Renee. No idea why he might have wanted to snoop in here, though.” Joel shrugged, and turned back to you. Gesturing to your wall, he said, “well, darlin’, your shelf is all done. Let me help you put these back.” He started reaching for your books, and to your amusement seemed to remember exactly what order they’d been in before.

“Already? Joel, that’s amazing.”

He shook his head, hiding a smile. “Was a pretty small job, you know. Wasn’t going to take long.” Between the two of you your shelf was put back to rights in just a couple of minutes. You stood back to take it in, and noticed that it really did look nicer, with level shelves.

You turned to tell Joel that, and to thank him, and found that once again he was already looking at you. You felt heat rise in your cheeks at the look in his eyes. It was warm. And intent. “Thank you, Joel. This really is amazing.” You stepped a bit closer to him and nudged him with your shoulder. “Pretty impressive work, you know.”

He looked pleased, but tried to hide it by ducking his head and twisting his mouth around a smile. “Wasn’t a problem, darlin’. I wanted to get it done before all of your books and things fell off the wall, anyway.” For a moment you both just stood there and smiled at each other, but then Joel cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. You noticed he was clenching and releasing one of his hands. “Don’t suppose you’re free for lunch later?” He sounded hopeful but uncertain.

“Oh! Sorry, I’m meeting my best friend.” You suddenly wanted to call Beth and cancel but knew you couldn’t. “Another day?”

He nodded, looking a little disappointed, but replied, “I’ll hold you to it.”

“Please do.” You tried to catch his eye again but he was already turning away. Between one moment and the next he was gone, out the door and down the hall.

…

At lunch, Beth made you talk her through the whole encounter. Twice. It took you all the way through the line to order and well into your lunch for her to be satisfied with your account.

“Ok look, like I said, he wants you. And we know you want him. You should ask him out next time.” Beth punctuated her verdict by brandishing her fork in your face. You rolled your eyes.

“It feels like we’ve only been on the same page for like, a minute. I didn’t realize he was flirting until he appeared at my door to hang my picture.” You shook your head, unsure.

Beth huffed. “I told you he was. You were too busy being annoyed.” You sighed, but you knew she was right.

“I just…” You trailed off and took a bite of your lunch to give yourself a minute to think. “I’m embarrassed. I yelled at him a lot.”

“Well, clearly he didn’t mind.” Beth smirked. “I bet he thinks it’s hot.” You threw your napkin at her. “If you don’t ask him out the next time you see him I’m going to call his office and do it for you.”

The worst part was, you knew she meant it.

...

a/n: see you next Friday! maybe they'll finally have lunch? prev | next

tag list: @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @katareyoudrilling @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123 @joelalorian

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #x reader #tlou fic #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

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most-datable-datable-bracket · 3 months

Text

ROUND 2 MATCH 64

Jaehee propaganda:

“only female love interest in MM, not included in the first round for SOME REASON, you literally go off and live your coffee shop au with her at the end of her route.”

“My lesbian wife. Open a bakery with her after convincing her that she doesn't have to give up her happiness to make money. She can pursue her passions. Also her backstory is so sad and I just wanna hug and kiss her and throw hands at her "family" for making her feel like she does. Also the Valentine's dlc, you get locked in the back of the bakery with her and... Yeah that's my wife. I love her dearly. Also can we just acknowledge that she's like the only path that involves almost none of the dramatic death defying nonsense. You're just gay and in love and it's beautiful”

Ashe propaganda:

“He is so sweet and chivalrous. He used to be a thief to provide for his family until he was caught, then the person who caught him adopted him so he didn't have to be the sole provider for his siblings. Now he gets to go to school and wants to be a knight like in the storybooks. He also loves to cook and some of his supports with other characters in the kitchen are so cute. The ending with the main character says that they became inseparable and regardless of which route/house was chosen, a big part of their future together is helping support those who are less fortunate and rebuilding the world together.”

#Jaehee Kang #Mystic Messenger #Mysme #ashe fire emblem #Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem: Three Houses #FE:3H #Round 2 #MDDC 2

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