#i got so sad abt her last night that i started a new fic. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rrxnjun · 2 years ago

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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

silentmoths · 2 years ago

Text

A cold cure for Insomnia

Hey look, it's not a genshin fic

wild huh?

I'll preface this with 2 things: 1: I am, for some reason, incredibly nervous abt posting a fic that is 100% outside my wheelhouse. I've never actually posted anything but genshin fic since I started uploading a couple years ago, only like, one friend has ever seen anything else from me so this is a bit of a step. 2: this is nothing put pure, indulgent lesbian bullshit and I'll also note that I have no idea how to write f/f smut, so be gentle with me.

If you're only here for my genshin stuff, have a nice day and we'll be back to regularly scheduled bullshittery shortly. Until then, please enjoy me, self indulging over my pokemon wife.

Elite 4 Rika x Fem!Reader 7.4k words, not proofread, we die like prof. sada

NSFW, honestly it's just a whole lot of fkn smut with some fluff sprinkled in there, praise kink, hair pulling, use of toys, oral, tribbing, koraidon being an unintentional wingman.

What a day.

Sometimes you wonder how Nemona did it, rushing around doing champion things all the time. Honestly, ever since you’d beat Geeta all those years ago while you were still in school, it felt like every day was ‘go here, check this gym, go there, check that gym.’ And you were getting a little tired of it.

Especially recently, with Nemona currently travelling somewhere in the Kalos region doing Arceus knows what, and Geeta being stuck in paperwork hell with the Academy preparing for their annual treasure hunt, you’d been swamped, needing to go and check every. Single. Gym. to make sure they were all up to par.

(who knows maybe this year a new student would claim the champion title and you could retire? That’d be nice.)

Montenevera was the last stop on your trip, and while the vibe was always lovely in the snowy mountain town…you’d never been particularly fond of the cold… Only made worse by Rhyme and her gang of ghost pokemon sending a particular shiver down your spine that you just couldn’t shake.

Night had fallen by the time you finally walked out the sliding doors of the League building, only to be greeted by your one nemesis.

Fucking snow.

Here, on the outskirts of Mesagoza.

You wanted to scream, but that wasn’t very becoming of a League champion now was it?

So with a sigh, you reach for a specific pokeball on your hip. The trek home wasn’t far, but in the sleet and cold, you knew it’d be faster if you rode.

Koraidon however, apparently had other ideas.

The moment his feet touch the cold ground, he yelps and backs right up and into the League building once again.

“Koraidon…c’mon bud, we just need to get home.” you sigh “I know you’re tired too…I promise to make you the best dang sandwich when we get home…yeah?”

The paradox pokemon simply looks at you with wide, sad eyes and a low chitter before he willingly returns to his ball.

Great….just great. Not even your most reliable pokemon was willing to brave even more snow, not after today.

“Woah-ho, what’s gotten under his scales?” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, snapping you from your despondent staring at Koraidon’s pokeball. The familiar click of dress boots give her away before Rika steps into view.

How she always managed to look so very casual while pulling off suspenders was beyond you, but every time you were anywhere in the vicinity of the first member of the Elite four, you found your mouth running dry and your mind wandering very far away from here. She tilts her head at you and it takes her waving her hand in front of your eyes to realise you were absolutely staring at her.

Way to go.

“Woah, you alright? You look wiped.” She comments, her brow furrowing as she looks you up and down.

“A-ah…yeah, sorry…s’been a long few days…” you eventually mumble, turning your gaze to the floor as you clip Koraidon’s ball back to your belt with the others. “Geeta’s had me checking and rechecking all the gyms to make sure they’re ready for the next treasure hunt…we just got back from Montenevera…cold…tired…and now it’s snowing a-and Koraidon is just…too tired to take me home..”

A slender, comforting hand gently rests between your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing circles and it takes everything in you to not crumble apart there, man, how desperate did you have to be to nearly cry at friendly touch? “You live all the way on the other side of town, dontcha?” She asks, her free hand raising to push some of her green hair from her face as the look of worry on her features only seems to grow “Ain’t no way you’re making that walk in this state…”

“I’ll live…” you sigh, hanging your head and readjusting your bag as you lift your head to look at the snow flurry that was definitely only getting heavier.

“Nah, C’mon, you can crash at mine tonight, it’s closer.” Rika chimes, patting you on the back and passing you a wink before she heads out the door.

You blink, watching her back in silence, there was no way she had just invited you to spend the night, absolutely no way. You needed to go see a doctor and maybe get your hearing checked-

“You comin? Or did Rhyme’s Toxtricity paralyse you up there in Montenevera?” She calls, stopping and looking over her shoulder. There's a…a look in her eyes that you can't quite make out, but it makes your heart jackhammer just that little bit, especially when she turns and offers her hand “C’mon, let's get you home, yeah?”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you blink at her outstretched, gloved hand and then up at her smile.

Arceus, you were weak…how you ever made champion when you can’t even look the first of the Elite four in the eye without feeling your cheeks heat, you’ll never know.

Finally, you reach out and take her hand, not expecting her to tug you into her side, arm draping over your shoulders as she starts walking again, all but pulling you along with her. Her hand gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she shares her body warmth with you on the trek down the mountainside towards the tunnel. For someone so slim, she was…much warmer than you expected, and you find yourself sleepily zoning out, simply focusing on one food in front of the other.

Thankfully, Rika was pretty alright with not needing to make small talk. This wasn’t the first time you had both just…existed in the same space in silence…to be fair the silence on your part before was because you had no idea how to talk to her without muddling your words like a lovestruck idiot, and perhaps that was still the case. Regardless, you play up the ‘tired’ aspect and simply bask in being close.

The unfortunate downside to the tunnel from Mesagoza up to the League headquarters, was the wind. Right now? Frigid and inhospitable, the icy chill stinging at your eyes, at least until your companion comes to your rescue, shifting you behind her taller frame and blocking the wind, hand moving from your shoulder to your hand, giving that same reassuring squeeze as she looks over her shoulder, small smile on her face.

You swear you can feel her thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles as she bends her arm behind her back to keep a secure hold on you.

Rika…she really was something else, something you didn’t deserve.

The moment the tunnel spits you both out into Mesagoza’s side streets, she takes an immediate right. Had you been walking home, you would have had to take a left and trudge all the way to the other side of the city, past the academy and almost to the pokemon centre by the west gate.

The flurry of snow was only getting worse, you can feel your clothes growing heavy and damp, and the concrete was getting slippery. Thankfully it’s not all that long before she tugs you into an apartment building and into a blessedly warm elevator. Holding you steady as your world begins to spin and blur at the edges. Perhaps you really had pushed it a bit too much today, hitting Cascarrafa, Glaseado and Montenevera in a single day…

“Hey.” Rika murmurs as your head rests against her shoulder “Stay with me, nearly there, kay? We’ll get you inside n’warmed up, yeah?”

“Mmh…kay..” you manage to mumble back, simply enjoying being held, even if it was light. Her arm wrapped around your torso as you just breath. She smells like Cedarwood…and maybe a hint of Ozone…might have something to do with her Camerupt… but it’s not an unwelcome scent at all. You only get a few moments to enjoy it before the elevator chimes, and you’re gently tugged out into, and down a hallway. Rika’s free hand fishing her keys from her pocket. She has to let you go to get the door open, muttering something about a stuck lock and needing to call maintenance, but with a bodily shove of her shoulder, the lock clicks and the door swings open.

Her apartment is blessedly warm, she must have left the heater on when she left for work this morning, because the warm air nearly takes you out before you even enter the door, needing to lean against the frame with a relieved sigh, knowing that even if you had made it home tonight, your heater had definitely not been on, and hadn't been for several days.

Rika only laughs softly, gently pulling you inside so she could close the door.

“Here…lets get you to the bathroom and into the shower…you’re absolutely freezing.” She mutters. Half-carrying you down the hall. Her apartment is…honestly what you expected. Neat enough, but not overly tidied. Lived in, comfortable, Inviting. Shades of soft greens and earthy tones scattered everywhere, a few large pokemon beds scattered about for her pokemon to enjoy outside of their balls. The only things really alluding to the fact that Rika was far more well off than most had to be the massive TV mounted to the living room wall, and what looked like one of the newer game consoles…the ones that had been super hard to get because of a manufacturing supply issue…fancy.

You don't quite register that she’s slowly pulling your clothes away from you until she’s already got your beanie, scarf and jacket off, each item thrown into her laundry hamper, at some point she’d also already started the shower for you, the room already beginning to fill with steam. You snap back to reality when theres a gently tug at the hem of your shirt, silently asking for your permission to remove it.

“O-oh, I uh…s-sorry…” you mumble, raising your arms above your head anyway, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment as she pulls the item away, the tank top beneath still leaving you modest enough to not die on the spot. “I-I can handle it from here…”

“You sure?” she murmurs softly “S’no big deal to me.”

“Y-yeah…I’ll be fine…thanks.”

You watch as the tiniest hint of…disappointment? Flickers across her features…no, surely you were imagining…but she doesn’t push it any further.

“Alrighty, I’ll go find something you can wear for the night and then throw your clothes in the laundry once you’re in the shower, yeah?”

“Mm…t-thank you Rika…you really…you didn’t have to-” you mumble, unable to meet her gaze, but she just smiles and shrugs, her fingers slowly pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

“And what if I wanted to? You look like you need a break.” She retorts, sliding past you and continuing down the hall before you can reply.

Soon enough, the rest of your clothes join the laundry hamper and you slip into the shower, beneath the scalding spray and you want to cry all over again, your fingers begin to prick with pins and needles as they slowly regain feeling, serves you right for leaving your gloves at home.

A few minutes into your shower, you hear the distinctive, soft thud of cloth hitting the counter. “Here’s some jammies, sorry if they’re a bit big.” Rika chuckles before vanishing back down the hall. You almost don’t want to get out of the hot spray, especially not once you start giving yourself a good scrub down with whatever fancy-branded body wash she kept in here.

At least now you know what to buy that would make you smell like cedarwood…

After you feel the last of the day’s grime finally wash from your body, you shut off the water and poke your head out of the shower. Thankfully Rika had already left a towel waiting atop the clothes she’d sacrificed to you. It’s as you’re drying off that you finally get a good look in the mirror and…wow…

Now you think you understand why she’d been so concerned…you look like you had two black eyes, that's how tired you were…

–

You find Rika relaxing in the living room watching TV when you finally emerge, changed into a fresh set of long pyjamas and- you can’t even stop the giggle when you notice the clodsire slippers.

“Where on earth did you get those?” you ask, pointing to said slippers, earning a grin and a snicker from their wearer.

“Larry actually.” She chuckles “secret santa a couple years back.” With that, she pats the spot on the couch next to her, and you, now warm and content, plop down beside her without a second thought, leaning against the arm of the couch with a content sigh. “How’re you feelin?” she asks, idly flipping through the channels.

“Mmh…much better…thank you again…I…I don’t think I would have made it home…not in this weather.”

“Oh I coulda told you that, Honey. In fact I’m pretty sure I did.” She snickers, her lips quirking at the side when she notes the way your cheeks flush pink at the pet name. “I’ve ordered some takeout, s’too cold to go out n’ grab food...and I’m usually too beat after work to bother cooking.”

“Then how the hell do you stay so skinny?” You snicker at her, receiving a wink in response.

“Oh I take my cardio seriously.” is all the response she gives before she finally decides there is nothing decent on regular TV, and switches over to a streaming service, throwing on some random popular movie.

Once again, you both settle into a comfortable silence, Rika rising from the couch half an hour in to fetch the dinner left at her door before returning, at some point with a blanket in tow. You sit up a little as she places the food on the coffee table and plops down right beside you this time, draping the blanket over both your laps. It’s not until you take the first mouthful of that delightful galarian curry, that you realise just how hungry you are, barely paying attention to the movie as you scarf down your meal, fighting back tears at Rika’s acts of kindness for the third time today, and only seemingly taking a breath once you’ve finished your meal, leaning back into the arm of the couch with a content sigh, only to squeak when Rika finishes her own a few minutes later and bodily leans into your side, head to your chest and arms slowly wrapping around your torso as she pulls her legs up and gets comfortable beside you with a content huff.

Arceus she was just so…so handsome, breathtaking… and she was just…cuddling you like you’d both been doing this kind of thing for years… it was sudden, but it didn’t feel wrong…and slowly, you bring your arm down from where it had been splayed along the back of the couch, to gently card through her hair, pulling some of her bangs from her face and tucking them behind her ear.

“Hmm…you should get some sleep, kiddo…arceus knows you need it.” She hums, glancing up at you from her spot on your chest. You know she’s right, and she doesn’t complain when you shift, even reaching behind her to hand you an extra cushion to tuck behind your head as you lay out along the couch, Rika coming to rest between your legs, head once again leaning onto your chest, her extra warmth and weight just adding another layer of comfort as you both go back to watching the movie.

Now usually, usually you were the kind of person who could drop off watching a movie quite easily. But on very rare occasions, you would find yourself struck with bouts of insomnia, and unfortunately for you, they always seemed to happen after periods of prolonged stress.

Like needing to go and personally make sure every gym was up to standards…

Before you even knew it, the credits begin to roll, you’re exhausted, but offensively awake, to the point where even Rika is surprised, blinking those beautiful crimson eyes up at you.

“Can’t sleep?” she asks with a tilt of her head.

“Sometimes Insomnia is a bitch.” You concede, she makes a noise of understanding.

“Ah, yeah…I know that feeling…” she admits, staring up at you, to the point you feel your cheeks heating again, and you avert your gaze “but, thankfully, I know the best solution for that.” She adds, shimmying to push herself up on her hands and knees, looming over you, some of her hair, having been free’d of its usual ponytail, cascading over her shoulders to tickle at your face.

“O-oh? And…what might that be?” that look in her eyes is back, the one you couldn’t quite read properly back at HQ, but here, with her inches from your face? It’s loud and clear.

Hunger.

“Do you trust me?” She asks, her lips quirking into a smirk as you shrink beneath her.

“W-would I have followed you home if I hadn’t?” you manage to squeak back at her, nowhere near as confident and commanding as it had sounded in your head. It’s enough to make her chuckle, and you watch in a daze as she licks her lips, a single hand coming up to softly grip your chin, lifting your face.

“Hm, touche…” and with that, her lips are on yours, she swallows the squeaking gasp that you let out, taking the opportunity of your mouth being open to send her tongue in to explore. To you it feels like electricity, like you’d just taken a thunderbolt to the senses; She’s soft, gentle, probing, gauging your reactions. Apparently she must have liked what she got, because she deepens the kiss, nipping at your lips as one hand tangles in your hair, rougher. You like this a bit better.

You’re the one who needs to come up for air first, pulling your face away with a loud, breathless gasp as you try to catch your breath.

The look you find waiting for you is…predatory, is the only word that comes to mind, and if it wasn’t for the fact she was already between your knees, you’d be squeezing your thighs together so tight, because it’s doing something…funny to your insides.

“Hmm…you ever done anything like…this before?” She asks, voice low and husky and you’re very ready to pass away, but you manage a shake of your head and the grin you get in response?

It’s like a Mightyena who’s just found it’s lunch. She was going to eat you, and she was going to enjoy every second of it.

“Well then, we’d best move…couch sex is great n’ all, but I’d rather your first time be somewhere a little more comfortable.” she remarks, pulling away. You whine at the loss of her extra warmth, but that whine quickly turns to a yelp when she takes your arm and drags you up with a strength she hadn’t shown you before. Always full of tricks, Rika was.

The admittedly short trek down the hall to her room is…hindered. Every few steps you’d find yourself pressed against the wall, Rika towering over you as hands tangle in your hair and lips crash to yours as she steals what little breath you manage to catch before you’re separating, taking a couple more steps and repeating the process.

Right outside the bedroom door, the slim trainer actually lifts you up the wall a ways, enough so that your legs instinctively wrap around her waist, nothing but her pyjama pants and the thin boxer’s you’d borrowed off her keeping you apart, but already entirely too much clothing in the way. You moan loudly when she rolls her hips into yours, the sensations all new and overwhelming, but you don't think you’ve ever felt this good before in your life.

Her hands find your ass as she pulls back from the wall, holding you to her firmly as you both finally stumble into her room, only given a second to brace before she’s throwing you down into the blankets, and even less time before she’s on you, grinning and hungry as hands fly up your top, pushing it up your chest so she can finally access some skin.

“A-ah! Rika-” her name was lost on her for the time being, far too engrossed in leaving open mouthed kisses along your chest and stomach, mouth latching over one of your nipples while her hand works at the other. Your own hands twisting and clenching at her blanket, your squirming only made worse when she shifts again, her knee pressing between your legs and right against your aching cunt.

At some point, she manages to wrangle the top off you completely, throwing it to the void so her hands can explore the expanse of your chest properly, she leaves no patch of skin untouched, no freckle or blemish uncharted, and when your whining begins to pitch as the nipple she sucks on becomes too sensitive, she gets go, only to latch to your collar bone instead, hands roaming your body.

You let out an embarrassingly pitiful mewl when her fingers dip beneath the waistband of your borrowed boxers, and you immediately bring a hand up to cover your mouth. Rika, apparently, doesn’t like that. Her hand retreating from its place as she props herself on the other, pulling away entirely, even shifting her knee back, depriving you of that delicious friction. Your hand is tugged away from your mouth and pinned to your side, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Don’t.” She scolds quietly “I wanna hear you.”

“B-but-”

“Don’t be a brat.” she interjects, eyes flashing dangerously “I know that aint’ you… you wanna be a good girl, yeah?”

Oh.

Oh no.

That shouldn’t have such an effect on you.

There’s no hiding it from Rika either. Her smirk widens as she stares smugly down at your trembling frame.

“Oh? You like that huh? Well then, are you gonna be a good girl and do as I say?” she hums “I’ll make sure you feel real good, yeah?”

“M-mhm…” is all you manage to squeak out, earning a raised eyebrow.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you there, princess.” Rika snickers. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and the humiliation burns your ears and makes your insides squirm in a way you didn’t think would feel as good as it did.

“I-I’ll be good…” you whisper, your hands twisting into the sheets as Rika hums, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your burning cheek.

“That’s a good girl.” she purrs “you just relax n’let me handle things, kay?”

You actually sigh into the kiss when she does finally return to what she was doing, your arms wrapping over her shoulders as she shifts back into place, hands lightly roaming your skin, teasing and testing sensitive spots, occasionally getting a little rougher, just enough to rile you a little more, before settling again. Before she can get back into your pants however, you tug at her shirt, whining into her mouth; thankfully, Rika is smart, she gets your hint and pulls away just long enough to tug her top off.

Her skin is soft, smooth, a few burn scars and claw marks here and there as she settles beside you, one of your thighs caught between her knees as she wraps an arm under your shoulders, pulling you close to her chest as the other hand grazes southward, she doesn't dally once her fingers breech the waistband of your boxers, quickly locating the sticky mess between your thighs with a pleased hum.

“Mmm, look at that…” she hums as a pair of fingers easily delve through your pussy, retracting from your boxers entirely so she can admire the glistening slick dripping from her fingers. “You’re so wet already, honey…” Rika makes sure you watch as she pops those two fingers into her mouth and you squeak, face burning in embarrassment.

She doesn’t give you much time to react, the moment she pulls those slender fingers from her lips, she shifts, your boxers are wrenched off and you’re left bare before her as she parts your knees to settle on her belly between your thighs, eyes flashing devilishly in the low light, and hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive parts.

“R-Rika-”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you into my bed.” She rasps between open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, arms wrapping around to keep yout hips in place as she takes her sweet time. “When was it… mmh, yeah I think it was…two years ago? Koraidon suddenly came out of his ball all sorry lookin’ in the middle of a meeting…”

Oh Arceus, you remember that meeting… Perhaps you’d been a little soft with Koraidon…he’d learnt that if he looked sorry enough, you’d make him a sandwich… but it was getting awfully hard to focus when a warm tongue suddenly licks a flat stripe into your cunt, and lips seal around your clit, shocking you from your thoughts as her strong hands prevent you from accidentally crushing her head with your thighs.

“Without even stopping to think, you got up n’ you got him what he needed.” she whispers into your thigh once she finally pulls away “middle of a meetin… n’ heres our newest champion, making a sandwich for her pokemon.” she chuckles “I dunno…something about how casually you just…did that…I’ve wanted this ever since but Geeta’s always had you running all over the place, pinning you down has always been impossible…least until today.”

“Rika…”

“You’re always doing everything for everyone else… you deserve to relax.” For a brief moment, she flashes you a genuine smile, not a hint of that handsome smirk that you’re so used to; just genuine warmth before she tugs you down by your hips and returns her mouth to you, long strokes of her tongue between your folds that leave any words dead in your throat, and your hands tangling in her hair for any semblance of control. You didn’t want to hurt her, but when she sucks harshly on your clit, you cry out and yank on her hair a little harder than you’d meant to, any apology dying when she groans and shudders, her eyes rolling back for a moment.

“You’re killin me, kid.” She sighs in the brief moment she brings herself to separate from you “keep doin that and you might end up in trouble.”

It sounds like a threat… but the way she suddenly looks so…debauched, has you tugging at her silky hair again when a pair of fingers slowly begin to prod at your core, spurring her on as you squirm and mewl.

Eventually, you feel something deep in your belly, different from before, something building that has your breath coming harshly as you try to squirm away, stopped by a firm hand pressing just below your navel.

“R-rika-! s-somethings…I-I feel-” you whimper as the pressure builds, you expect her to pull away in concern, but her eyes flash with realisation, and she only seems to double down, her long, slender fingers curling inside of you and brushes against…something. Something that has you nearly scream her name as that pressure snaps and your world turns white, fingers curling harshly into her hair.

Somewhere, through the haze, you feel a weight resting on you, and a hand resting on your cheek, but it takes a little longer for your ears to finally stop ringing and realise Rika was gently calling your name.

“There you are..” She chuckles softly as you finally remember how to uncross your eyes and look at her. “That looked intense…you ok?”

“Uh…uh-huh…” you respond dumbly, resting your cheek against her hand “what…what was that..?”

Rika’s lips pull into a thin, concerned line as her brows furrow.

“They really didn’t teach sex-ed at the academy, did they?” She asks.

“I-I mean…they did…s’just…basic..” you mumble as you slowly come down from…whatever high that just was.

“Obviously.” she sighs with a shake of her head “Was that seriously your first orgasm?”

Oh.

“oh…I uh…yeah…I guess it was.” and the humiliation was back. You knew what an orgasm was in theory…you’d just..never bothered to try it yourself.

“Well…I suppose I should count myself honoured then.” She snickers, leaning in to kiss at your undoubtedly sweaty forehead. “Couple more of those N’ I think you’ll be sleeping like a Komala.”

“M-more…?” you whisper, she laughs, catching your wide-eyed expression.

“Oh yeah, that was just foreplay, sweet thing…you did so well.”

And the praise was back, despite the way your joints feel molten hot, you still manage to squirm beneath her.

“I- s-should I…um…h-help you now?” your question is barely a whisper, all nerves…you have no idea how she did what she did but it felt…wrong to take and not give.

But Rika only shakes her head.

“What’d I say before?” she chides, slowly sitting back on her knees “Your one job tonight is to relax…I’ve got you.”

“But…what about you-”

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll get off eventually.” She chuckles, smirking when you sigh and relent. “I want one more outta you before then though.” She mumbles as she shifts out from between your knees, sitting and reaching for her bedside table as you stare at the ceiling, basking in the shaky afterglow.

“D-did you…mean what you said before?” you mumble more at the ceiling than anything “that you’ve been…waiting for this..?”

“What reason do I have to lie to you?” She chuckles as she fiddles with…whatever she’s fiddling with. “You earned my respect the day you beat me when you first took on the Elite four, my admiration when you beat Geeta and became a champion…”

“God…those stupid glasses haunt me.” you snicker, remembering rather vividly being sat, alone in a room with Rika when you had first taken on the league, you’d read up plenty on other pokemon leagues in other regions, but never once had any of them had an interview-style exam right at the start.

“Hey, I like my glasses, thank you very much!” Rika snorts as she finally shifts back over, pulling you close with one arm as something…new slides between your legs, a quick glance and- oh.

You never really took Rika for the kind to own toys…but…at the same time, you never really gave it much thought. It’s nothing extreme, but to you, who’s never had anything other than a pair of slender fingers inside you very recently, the silicone toy is still rather intimidating.

“This ok?” She asks, mouthing at your neck and shoulder “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“I…I do..just..nervous is all.”

“Mmh, good girl, so trusting…” there she goes again with the pet name that makes you shiver, not helped by the cold press of lubricated silicone against your still-sensitive cunt, gently pressing just that little bit further as Rika mouths your neck, nibbling down on the juncture between throat and shoulder, an adequate distraction as she pulls your leg out of the way with her own and sinks the toy in, slowly, almost tender as she coos comforts, coaxing you to relax, praise falling from her easily.

“Look at that, you took it so well.” She praises once the toy reaches the hilt “fuck, you’re making me regret not buying a harness… might just have to pick one up so I can fuck you proper, yeah?”

You can't even bring yourself to respond to her dirty talk, blinking hazily downwards as you gently press a hand just below your belly-button, taking the hint, Rika pulls the toy almost all the way out and then thrusts it back in. The feeling of it inside you, plus being able to feel it beneath your hand makes you moan loud and long, head falling back against the pillows as Rika lets you go, using her now free arm to prop herself up to watch you as she begins rhythmically working the dildo in and out of you, a small shift of her thumb has it brushing against your clit every time she sinks the silicone back into you, only adding to the layers of pleasure as your toes curl and your legs twitch.

“Look at you taking it like you were made for this, good girl.” she purrs, licking at her lips “I really shoulda found another reason to get you alone waaay before now.”

“Ungh…please…p-please…more…” It takes more than you feel like it should to beg, good as it felt, you’re worried that Rika was perhaps treating you just a little too softly. “Rika please…please please pleas-”

“Woah there, settle down baby.” She whispers, kissing at your cheek “Lookit you, telling me what you want like a good girl…who am I to deny the champion?”

Your attempt at telling her she didn’t need to use your title is quickly drowned out when she sits up, plunging the toy deeper inside of you with this new angle, brushing up against that one spot that had triggered your last orgasm. Her free hand pins your chest down as she smiles down at you, predatory and hungry for your reactions as she ups the pace, occasionally stopping to really grind the toy deep inside of you, right against that sensitive spot that has your voice pitch higher while you grip at Rika’s hand like your life depended on it.

As your next orgasm draws closer, you whimper, tugging at her hand, overstimulated ,overwhelmed, knowing you needed something, but not quite sure what that something was. At least until Rika pulls you to sit up, not even interrupting her pace as she braces you against her chest so you can hide your face away into the crook of her neck. All the while she mutters praise and pet names into your ear. She groans when that knot snaps for the second time tonight and you cry her name into her throat. You don’t pass out like you’re pretty sure you did last time at least, but as the shocks of pleasure begin to fade out, you really do begin to feel the pull of exhaustion behind your eyes as you slump against Rika’s shoulder, whimpering quietly when she slowly pulls the toy from your sensitive core, feeling the way your muscles involuntarily clench around it.

“How was that, baby? You doin alright?” She asks, gently tossing the toy back towards the bedside table as she turns her attention back to you. You were dizzy, dazed, and exhausted, yet through all that one thought still persisted.

She’d been doing all of this for you, and she still had her goddamn pants on.

Her breath hitches when your hand drops to her thighs, pressing beneath the waistband as you try to swallow down your nervousness to return the favour properly, biting your lip as you find the slick, wet mess already waiting for you; in a way, it was comforting to know that she was in fact, turned on by all of this. You’re clumsier than Rika at this, inexperienced and nervous, but you listen as she lets out a shuddering breath, her head leaning against yours for a moment as you slowly gain some confidence. That is until she grabs your wrist, ignoring your whine as she pulls your hand away and lays you back down, taking a moment to kiss any air out of your lungs, trying to calm your fraying nerves at being denied the chance to please her.

“Hey… It’s ok sweetie.” She murmurs against your lips, uncaring of your wide-eyed pout “One more…”

“Nooo.” you whine, wiggling in her grip “I cant…s’too much Rika…” truly, you didn't think you could take another, no matter how good it felt, the first two had been so intense, but Rika only smiles.

“I know you can give me one more, sweet girl.” she purrs, watching as you squirm and shake your head like you could actually deny her. “Will you stop being a brat if I told you this one will also get me off?”

At that, your squirming stops as you blink tiredly up at her, earning a chuckle and a fond shake of her head.

“R-really?”

“Yeah, s’nice n easy on you too…you wanna try?”

You seriously doubted she could get another out of you, hell, you seriously doubted you could stay awake for much longer, her initial plan definitely working…but if it brought her pleasure too…

“O-ok…I’ll try…”

“That’s my girl.” She whispers softly, pressing just as soft a kiss to your lips “Lay back for me, princess.”

You do just that, shifting a few pillows to get comfortable, if you thought your joints ached before, now you felt like you've made the trip to the three final gyms today on foot…perhaps you should make Koraidon his favourite sandwich as thanks for carrying you around all day.

You feel Rika take hold of one of your legs, lifting it so your knee bends over her shoulder as she settles into place, finally free of her own bottoms as she slots her pelvis against yours. You gasp at the feeling of your cores pressing together. It felt…soft, but almost way more intimate and intense than anything she’d done to you prior…whatever she was doing, definitely wasn’t covered in any sex-ed class you’d taken back in school.

You’re about to ask, when she rolls her hips and oh-

Perhaps it was your already overstimulated state, or just the position itself, but as she slowly grinds herself against you, the friction leaves you breathless, even more so when you look at Rika’s face. Her brow is furrowed in deep concentration as she bites at her bottom lip, face contorting in pleasure as she groans into your knee, her nails digging into the soft flesh of your thigh as she rolls her hips just a little harder, the pain only adding to the sensation.

“S-shit…” she pants, “fuck you feel so good…good girl..” she moans, head tilting back as she stares up at the ceiling, shuddering when you whimper and lift your hips as she rolls down again, sending another jolt of pleasure through you both. “That’s it princess, j-just like that… you’re gettin real good at this…”

Her words of pleasured praise do…something else to you, sparking that last bit of energy you had left to life as you continue to try and keep rhythm with her, grinding together slow and deep and watching in awe as the first member of the elite four comes apart in front of you for the first time, her sounds going from quite whispers to long moans and pleasured keens.

“Rika- R-rika…” you pant “mmf-fuck… can’t believe it’s taken this long..” the words are out of your mouth before you have the forethought to think about them “I’ve had the stupidest crush on you since we first met back when I was taking the gym challenge… you were so- ah! H-handsome and intimidating…I…thought you were a-a man and nearly called you S-sir-”

“FUCK-” her shout actually makes you jolt, and you realise she’s cumming, cunt grinding deliciously into your own as she bites down on your leg, the sudden extra jolt of pleasure-pain sending you over the edge as well with an open-mouthed scream.

Somewhere in the haze before you pass out, you make a mental note to try calling Rika ‘sir’ next time…if there was a next time.

–

It’s light out when you wake the next morning, blinking sleep from your eyes as you look out the window.

Seems the snow had only picked up during the night, most of which you don't remember after…well, everything. Save for a straw in your mouth, Rika’s gentle voice coaxing a few sips of fluid into you, and a damp cloth wiping you down, hushing your overstimulated whimpers of protest.

Somehow she’d even managed to get you dressed again without waking you…you must have crashed hard. Yet the thing that sticks out to you is that the bed is severely lacking in another body, Rika nowhere to be found.

At first, a pit of worry sows itself into your gut. Had she gone to sleep on the couch after all that? Had she had second thoughts-

A clatter from down the hall, and her warm laughter however, abate that somewhat.

“You’re such an ungainly thing.” you hear her snicker “Hold on a second it’s nearly done, needy lizard.”

Koraidon’s telltale ‘i'm hungry and sad, feed me’ whine quickly turns to happy chirping at the promise of food, his head turning to the hallway as you shuffle out of bed, blanket and all to trudge down the hall. happily leaving Rika to her business as he trots over to greet you, shoving his massive snout right into your belly.

“See? All your complainin’ woke her up!” Rika snorts, resting a hand on her hip. “N’here i was trying to make you breakfast before you woke up…”

Your cheeks heat a little at the sentiment.

“Keyword is try…good luck getting any cooking past Koraidon…” you mumble softly, petting said pokemon’s head feathers down as the other trainer leaves the kitchen, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Well, initially I’d enlisted him to help, but that turned out to be a bust..” She snickers. “G’mornin.”

“M-morning..”

Rika tilts her head at you with an amused grin “aw, actin all shy after everything that happened last night?” she muses, chuckling when all the response you give is a slightly redder face before you drop your head into Koraidon’s feathers. Her amusement soon melts away as a warm, now intimately familiar hand, comes to rest on your back.

“Hey…” she sighs “I enjoyed myself last night… I hope you did too…”

“I-I did… its just…I…” you nibble at your bottom lip, unable to come up with the words to describe how you’re feeling. Giddy and nervous, emotional and excited, all wrapped up into one package.

Thankfully, your companion seems to take it in stride, pressing another kiss to your temple before she returns to the kitchen.

“Oh by the way.” She pipes up after a moment. “Geeta called this morning…snow’s a little too heavy today so HQ’s shut…looks like we have a long weekend.”

Oh, an extra day off? That's probably the best news you could have gotten today, considering your legs were still shaking like a newborn deerling…

“Nice..” you giggle, slowly shuffling towards the couch, pulling her blanket up over your shoulders as you flop down by the arm and get cozy.

“Thats what I said.” She snickers, soon joining you with a hot plate of food. If you’d thought the galarian curry last night had been good, this trumped it, your body screaming for food after last night’s exertion.

“Y’know, if you want…you’re more than welcome to crash here for the weekend…” Rika throws the offer casually as she eats, content smile upon her face as she watches you from the corner of her eye “Snow’s only gotten heavier since yesterday, n’I don't wantcha getting hurt tryina get home..”

This time, you can hear the intent behind her words, the intent you couldn’t read yesterday as you turn your head towards the window, to the almost whiteout of Masagoza. You contemplate the offer as you polish off your breakfast, placing the plate on the coffee table before you, watching as Koraidon happily trots up to lick the plate clean with a happy chirp.

“Hmmm…well, if you’re happy to have me…who am I to say no…sir.” you know it’s cheeky, you know it’s going to end badly for you, but watching Rika’s face suddenly go from cool, calm and collected, to beet red is totally worth it before she shoves the last mouthful of her own food into her mouth, slamming the plate onto the table before she grabs you by the collar of your shirt and hauls you up.

You cackle all the way down the hall as she all but drags you back to the bedroom.

You were in for a long weekend indeed.

#pokemon scarlet and violet x reader #Rika x reader #elite four rika x reader #Rika x reader smut

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housesunstone · 5 months ago

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Tell me more abt lucy and ruben 👀👀

You dont have to ask me twice!!!

Again this is all my own personal headcanon as semi-influenced by what we know as canon (this might also be used in a fic i might or might not be working on) I do not speak for official rat grinders lore

Lucy and Ruben first met in middle school (I think that is what it is called, not a thing where I am from). They were both partnered up in some class assignment. Lucy invited Ruben over so they could work on it after school, Ruben, being super chill and laid back, agreed. About half the project got done that night they just talked the rest of the time

After that, it was weird to see Lucy and Ruben without each other; they were a duo: her soft, kind, deeply caring soul and her laid-back, go-with-the-flow, caring best friend. Everyone just knew wherever Lucy was; Ruben wasn't far behind. If Ruben was somewhere, you could be sure Lucy was also there

When Ruben started his band, it was just him playing his ukulele; he was known for making a song out of anything. One day during lunch he just made a song up about Lucy on the spot. The better he got the more people wanted to make music with him, and Lucy was his number one fan since day 1.

Lucy would always go to all of his band practices, hang out in his basement and cheer the band on between songs. All of the others who were allowed to watch band practice shared a bowl and vibe. But it was always Lucy who cheered the loudest. She was the first one to have merch, it may have been just a t-shirt with some sharpie on it, but she wore it proudly and told everyone, "Just you watch; my best friend is going to be a star"

This was their last year in middle school before high school, and the duo became a trio. Kipperlilly came, and Lucy and her became close.

Ruben and Lucy didn't live too far from one another, they would often go to each others house in the middle of the night to just talk

Ruben took a keen interest into Ruvina and based on the conversations he and Lucy had, a lot of that went into his music

Lucy is first caught by Ruben when she brings the rats back, it is at that moment Lucy shares her more intimate beliefs about Runina that mortals were made to keep each other warm

Ruben doesn't tell anyone about this. Not until the bigger monsters get involved

Lucy becomes distant with Ruben towards the end of junior year before they go to the mountains of chaos. When Ruben tries to ask her why, she just brushes it off with faith stuff

Lucy is the last of her friends to be killed for Porter to shatter Star; she watches Ivy go down first, followed by Mary Ann, then Oisin, and Ruben. The horrified look on his face sends fear through her entire body. Before Kipperlilly goes down, she tells Lucy that things are going to be okay they can all be better this way. It's when Kipperlilly drops that Lucy looks at Porter and tells him she won't do this. She refuses to do this. Porter just laughs and tells her he never planned on bringing her back

Ruben is one of the last to wake up. He is met by Kipperlilly, who looks frantic, as Lucy still isn't moving. He runs over and screams and cries and pleads that she wake up. Hours go by, and she never does.

Ruben is the first to take the devil's honey, not to lie to some god but to himself, and no matter what, the devil's honey doesn't take away the anger, sadness, the hurt that he feels about Lucy. The devil's honey may be able to make him lie to himself, but those feelings never leave. Lucy's presence never leaves

Even with her gone and Ruben's new band, traces of the impression Lucy made on Ruben linger in every song. With Lucy gone, Ruben tries to ignore how empty he feels and how much he regrets not telling her his feelings

I think I need to stop here because I will keep going, and i already had to edit this down

#ruben hopclap #lucy frostblade #rat grinder headcanons #if you give me a chance to talk about porter i will also do that lol #i really think ruben and lucy are a unrequited love #Ruben does love lucy as a friend and more but Lucy that is her platonic love #god i might just have to write this fic #long post

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cowboycakes · 4 years ago

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Do You Get My Letters

✥ Pairing: Levi x fem!Reader, somewhat Reiner x fem!Reader

✥ Themes: Fluff, angst, sadness, big ass plot twist

✥ Warnings: Female bodied reader (she/her pronouns,) Pregnancy and birth (nothing gory.) Mentions of death, violence, and threats. Manipulation.

✥ Synopsis: You are carrying Reiner's baby when he betrays Paradis. Levi decides to step in.

✥ Word Count: 2.2k

(there is a part two up to this fic, but i've decided i'm going to rewrite the ending at some point.)

Anon's Request: Hi! I saw your requests are open so here I want to give my little scenario a try! 🕳🤸🏽‍♀️ I thought abt this last night, I’m currently rewatching AOT after 6 yrs and yet to finish season 4, so sorry if I’m wrong abt timelines/the plot? My request is the reader was with child with Reiner, but b4 reader told him, he betrayed and exposed his mission. Levi stepped in to help reader. And btw, I just finished watching ep 3 of season 4, so maybe Eren telling reiner abt his child and he regrets leaving the reader? And reiner jealous at the fact Levi is most likely considered his child’s father at that point. I can’t come up with an ending, so I’ll leave it up to you if you do take in my request. If this isn’t your type of writing I totally understand!

Note: This story is canon divergent. It is set in season 4, but in a universe where Reiner is not revealed as a traitor/the armored titan until a few months before season 4 takes place, as the reader was having relations with him until then and did not know his secret. I’m sorry if that change bothers you, I just wanted to write this as sort of its own story. This story contains season 4 spoilers! It also has nothing to do with the canon ending of AOT.

---

Dear Reiner,

I hope this letter somehow gets to you, I don’t quite know where to start.

In a perfect world, I would be so happy to tell you this. You’d be ecstatic too, I think. And before you try to second guess me: I’m sure by now, don’t worry.

I’m pregnant.

I guess we weren’t careful enough before you left. I feel like an idiot. And lost. But I’m not hopeless. I know myself, I can make it work somehow. With or without you.

I’m still in shock about you. How could someone so close hide so much? You’re a talented spy I suppose, a great asset to Marley. You made me trust you with my entire life. You made me love every false thing about you. And this is the rude awakening I get in return.

I’ll raise our child to value honesty and kindness, all in spite of you.

Sincerely,

Reader

---

The paper was damp with tears after you lifted your pen for a final time. You wished you could just keep the whole thing a secret: go make a quiet life for yourself somewhere else. It wouldn’t be right. Not after all of the dishonesty that man had spewed to you over the past few years. You had to tell him.

The door to the office room you’d settled in to write the letter creaks open. It’s Levi. He looks at your puffy eyes somberly, sympathetic. He was the first person you had told about the entire situation. Not because you were close, just because you needed help.

You fold your letter and stick it into a sturdy envelope. Levi takes it in his hand.

“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve a thing from you. Not a letter. Certainly not tears,” Levi says, using a clean handkerchief to wipe a stray drop from your cheek, “but I am proud of you.”

You take the handkerchief from him, feeling more tears stream down your face.

“Proud? I’m a fucking idiot,” you say through your sobs.

“Don’t even try to pull that self pity shit with me. Things happen sometimes. And you’re strong enough to commit to getting through it,” he responds.

You stand up, pushing your chair out. You look at him as you dry your face off again.

“I’m alone. How the hell am I supposed to do this shit alone?”

“You are not alone,” Levi replies. You’re shocked when he pulls you into a hug. “I’m going to help.”

You had never seen this side of him before. You look at him as you pull away slowly, tears still welled in your eyes.

“Are you sure? That's a big burden, Levi. None of this has to involve you.”

“Not the biggest burden I’ve ever taken on,” he shrugs. “There’s a lot of death around here, Y/N. Everyone is going to be happy about the little bit of life you’re giving us.”

You chuckle. He’s cynical, but he’s right.

He licks the envelope as he walks toward the door.

“Want me to run you a hot bath or something? Is that the type of shit pregnant people need?” he asks.

You laugh, a little harder than normal. It felt so relieving to laugh.

“Sure, Captain,” you respond softly.

---

Dear Reader,

I received your letter before the battle in Marley. I actually got to hand it to Reiner myself. He knows everything now. He broke down in front of me after reading it, going on about how much he regrets everything. How he wishes he could change things and be there for you. He begged me to kill him right there.

The world will eventually not have suffering like what you are going through now.

Eren Jaeger

---

Your jaw had dropped reading it. He begged me to kill him.

You hand the letter Levi had just delivered back to him. He reads it with a furrowed brow.

“Do you think…” you begin, your voice shaky, “do you think I could send another letter?”

Levi purses his lips, “Possibly. I can ask Jaeger. But right now, you need to bring your blood pressure back down.”

You were over seven months along now. You had found out about your pregnancy late, after being in denial for four whole months. Hange insisted on checking you out after you’d thrown up every morning for a week.

Levi had since gone on a parenting book reading spree; he made you read several of them too. He knew just about everything you needed to do to make a healthy baby: what to eat, what not to eat, how to exercise, when to go to the doctor, etc. It was really sweet how much he cared. You knew it gave him hope, something to fight for, something to come home to.

You were terrified when he left for Marley. You kissed him for the first time when he returned. Just about everyone you knew had to fight. You wished you could be out there fighting with them like you were supposed to. Maybe you could have made a difference.

Levi takes your hand, squeezing it to bring you out of your thoughts.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“Get me a glass of wine,” you grumble.

“Absolutely not.”

---

Dear Reiner,

Reader does not know I’m sending this. So keep it that way, or I’ll kill your sorry ass. Or maybe not, you’d probably enjoy that. In that case I’ll get creative.

How does it feel? Being a fucking deadbeat? Is it everything you’d thought it’d be and more? Fucking her and leaving her with nothing, like she belongs in a whorehouse. Reminds me of what happened to my mother. Pieces of shit like you came in and sent her to her death, leaving her kid behind to starve.

I wasn’t about to let her suffer like my mother did. But you were. I’m glad your choices haunt you, Reiner. You fucking deserve it.

I’ll be there for the both of them from now on, doing everything you were never capable of. She’s due any day now, I’m sure she’ll try to write to you.

Levi

---

You feel your first contraction while napping on the couch with Levi. You were settled in between his legs, your back leaning up against his chest. He had his hands on your stomach; he loved to feel the baby kick and tell them some of the happier stories in his memories.

The two of you had grown so close over the past few months. You slept together every night now. You didn’t want to leave each other’s sides if you didn’t have to. Levi would cuddle and massage you any time your pregnant body was ailing you.

You had fantasized with him about life after the war. He wanted to be a husband, a father, to live peacefully in the countryside. And he wanted more than anything for you to join him.

The first contraction wasn’t painful enough for you to make much more than a grunting noise, but Levi woke up the second he felt your stomach contort a bit. He was on very high alert these days.

“Holy… shit…is that what I think it is?” Levi whispers, “Don’t answer. I’m getting Hange.”

He crawls out from behind you and sprints out of the room.

The pain worsens and becomes much more frequent while he’s out looking for Hange. You stand up eventually after getting the urge to walk around - and your water breaks. You start panicking, unsure of how dilated you were and how much time you had left before pushing. You really wished you’d done more than just skimmed through those birthing books right about now.

Levi and Hange eventually come sprinting back into the room with a wheelchair and cold rags to find you whimpering in pain on the couch, trying your best to control your breathing.

You’re rushed down the halls to the Scout’s infirmary, where Levi had made sure the perfect room was set up for you - and it had been that way for two months.

The next hour goes by in a blur. Hange knew the biology of how to deliver the baby, and Levi knew how to coach you. He helped you hold your legs back when you pushed, and helped you count out your breathing. Hange attended to everything that might have made Levi faint, like checking your dilation and making sure the baby was coming out at the right angle. You got lucky having these two by your side.

Through all of your efforts, you finally hear a cry. You look up to see Levi holding your tiny new baby as Hange wiped them clean. He was smiling, way bigger than you’d ever seen him smile before, with tears in his eyes.

“Here,” he says softly, handing her to you.

You cradle her on your bare skin. “She’s so perfect, Levi! Look how sweet she is!” you coo.

“What are you going to call her?” he asks, stroking your hair as you gleam down at your baby.

“I was thinking,” you smile, “Kuchel.”

Levi lets out small gasp. Tears start streaming down his face, his efforts to stifle them failing.

“Really? I think that’s,” he wipes his eyes, “a wonderful name.”

—-

Dear Reiner,

She’s finally here! Oh my god, she’s precious. Levi and Hange helped to deliver her. Labor went smoothly. Levi started to cry when he saw her for the first time. She really is just that perfect. We are calling her Kuchel, after Levi’s mother. He cried when I told him that, too (don’t tell him I’m sharing those crying details.) I've decided to give her Levi’s last name as well.

Levi set up the perfect nursery for us.

If you really did feel guilty for leaving - don’t be. I’m happy.

She has your eyes.

Sincerely,

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

Kuchel said her first word today. Of course it wasn’t mama, she’s such a daddy’s girl. She started crawling awhile ago, we are now working on standing up on our own. She has all of this blonde curly hair, too. She’s growing up so fast.

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

Levi proposed a few days ago. It was so perfect. We found a nice house with room for a farm that will be perfect for a family.

I can only wonder how you’re doing, now that the war is over.

Are you even alive?

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

I’m expecting again. Levi is beyond excited. I am too, of course. Kuchel started school this year. She is such a smart kid.

I still wonder about you. After all these years.

Reader

—-

Message after message, word after word. No response. You had decided he must be dead. The devastation after the war would argue that he was.

That is, until you found yourself rummaging through one of Levi’s desk drawers, looking for baby Isabel’s lost pacifier.

You felt the bottom of the drawer shift. A false bottom?

You pry at it until it comes open.

Letters.

Dozens of opened letters. With Marleyan postage stamps.

You pull out the first bundle you see. They’re all from you. Unopened. Unsent. You set them aside, your jaw quivering.

You pull out the second bundle and gasp.

—-

Dear Reader,

Eren showed me your letter. I am terribly sorry. Let me fix this, somehow. You can come to live with me in Marley. I will take care of you. Please.

I’m not just a traitor, a liar, a farce. Everything between us was real. I can explain everything. Just trust me.

Love,

Reiner

—

Dear Reader,

Do you get my letters?

I’ve only heard rumors about our new baby girl. I wish I could see her. Just once. For a second. Do you have a camera? I know they’re hard to come by in Paradis. I can send one.

I’d do anything to change this. You know I would.

Love,

Reiner

—-

To Levi,

You son of a bitch. I know exactly what you’re doing. You think this is protecting her, but it’s not. Just let her talk to me. She would listen, she would understand. You said yourself that she writes. You manipulative, sick bastard. That is MY child. She will never be yours. No matter what you brainwash her to believe, your dirty Ackerman blood does not run through her veins. She deserves to know. You are the farce, Levi.

Reiner

—-

There were dozens more. All opened. All from Reiner.

You sink down to the floor, tears spilling from your eyes.

You are the farce, Levi.

But, why? He was just protecting you, right?

The office door opens. You jump, shoving the letters back into the drawer.

“Mommy, why are you crying?” Kuchel asks.

You take a deep breath, staring down at the letters, thinking about everything that could have been.

“Are you happy here, Kuchel?”

“Yes!” she chirps, “Every day!”

“Then it’s nothing, baby. Mommy just got hurt. She’s better now.”

Your daughter giggles and skips out of the room, leaving you to hide away the rest of the letters.

༺♥༻

I REALLY HOPE I understood your request, Anon! I actually had a lot of fun writing this. It isn't something I would normally think to write, but I'm so glad you shared this idea! Sorry for the sad ending, I love playing w people's emotions ;)

༺♥༻

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #reiner x reader #reiner braun #reiner x you #levi x you #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot imagines #levi imagine #reiner imagine #snk reiner #snk levi #tw: pregnancy #tw: threats #tw: manipulation #tw: mentions of death

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hottie0 · 3 years ago

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k so i had an idea for a chameron ao3 series of all the fics being conan gray songs but i got lazy and only wrote 1.5 stories for it so because i’m not acc gonna do it imma share the ideas i had cuz someone might find them useful so (btw these will be copied directly from notes the first time i wrote them, they can also be used for other ships if u want but i made them for chameron):

grow: a year after hs cam and charlie run into eachother in vermont and then u see a bunch of flashbacks of old nights and things at welton. they exchange numbers at the end or smth. (i did this one)

idle town: charlie can’t sleep at his new school. he reminisces and whatever. a little more focused on cam. he looks over at the other side of the room but cam isn’t there anymore. instead it’s his new roommate who he doesn’t even know the last name of. end it somehow.

generation why: pre-canon cam and charlie just talking on the roof. banter. romantics ensue on cams behalf. charlie doesn’t feel the same way. that’s why charlie treats him the way he does.

crush culture: charlie pining after cam. a bunch of little things cam does to push charlie over the edge. charlie talks to neil and neil says cam likes him too. he doesn’t. charlie kisses cam one night while studying and cam rejects him and they argue. this is the night of neils death. that’s why cam didn’t find out through charlie and everything hurt a little bit more than it should’ve.

greek god: cameron’s being made fun of all the time by charlie and he knows charlie likes him and idk tbh this one got deleted and idk what i had written

lookalike: pre-neils death cam and charlie dated in their time at welton then broke up which caused tension going into senior year. the dead poets knew. when the dps started charlie got a gf and wouldn’t stop talking about her. her name was elaine. he brought her to a meeting and she looks just like cam. damn.

the other side: falling out of love. the process.

the king: cameron accidentally reads a poem charlie had written for/about him. he stresses all day and acts weird. everyone else is like ??? at night cam decides f it and confronts him. it ends cute

comfort crowd: night time. tomorrow morning charlie was meant to leave welton so all his stuff was packed up. hed already punched cam so it was tense. to say the least. cam randomly gets up out of bed and charlie is like wtf?? cam fuddles around then he’s like “u coming” they go to the cave and have a meaningful talk and if they end up cuddling then that’s their business

wish you were sober: charlie and cameron get drunk in their dorm. cam can’t hold his alcohol well so he gets wayy more drunk. he tells charlie some personal shit. some of which includes the fact that he used to have feelings for charlie. charlie has feelings for cam. he’s sad and sends cam to bed.

maniac: short one. they’re at the same bar a few years later. not with eachother but cam knows charlie’s there. charlie is talking shit abt cam and calling him weird and blah blah. but just that night, charlie had called cam desperate after years. cam thinks abt everything. he gets up and leaves but doesn’t leave w/o saying a big ol’ f u to charlie. this ones so mean to charlie. sucks. anyways.

online love): they’re doing long distance because charlie got expelled. they break up over the phone. aw. make it depressing. maybe by them being interrupted before rly saying goodbye and shii.

checkmate: they’re playing chess idk i couldn’t think of anything better. just cute and fluffy cuz i say so.

the cut that always bleeds: cameron is in a problematic relationship w a girl he met at uni. they just went through one of their fight episodes. cam went back to his room but he needed company. he decides to go to charlie’s dorm for comfort. but they haven’t spoke since that evening years ago. charlie says “i thought i’d never see you again” yadda yadda cam tells charlie everything and they just hold eachother. the gf is like “plz take me back” so cam does and he never sees charlie ever again. cry abt it.

fight or flight: charlie has a gf but little does he know she’s cheating on him. he ends up catching her with her side piece in their apartment. it’s cameron. there’s a whole wtf moment and the gf is like “u two know eachother???”. cams like “i swear i didn’t know” the girl leaves but cam stays. they argue or whatever or just talk not sure yet. then they kiss and charlie says something dumb and it ends. also cameron is hot as shit in this btw.

affluenza: probs short. when charlie is getting ready to leave cam is like “so money can’t buy happiness” and charlie’s like tf did u say to me. they talk abt where charlie’s going and whatnot and money. “i can’t do the things you do charlie, don’t you get anything” charlie leaves feeling a bit more guilty.

(can we be friends?): cam and charlie’s life growing up together. cute moments of them falling for the other. “now charlie knows why he and cameron could never be friends.”

heather: charlie and knox are together. cameron likes charlie. one night charlie is drunk and it’s just cam and him in the dorm. charlie ends up kissing cameron as a joke and cameron doesn’t know. there’s a fic like this. after the kiss it’s never the same. knox doesn’t know what happened. cameron has to watch them be all buddy buddy and shit- even if they’re not out to the rest of the group, cam knows. cameron knows not to interfere with their relationship no matter how much he wants to. he chooses to sit and watch and keep all his feelings inside.

little league: charlie stops by a cafe one night because he has nothing else to do. it turns out it’s open mic night. someone gets up to read. that someone is cameron. cameron performs a poem called little league. charlie remembers things. he leaves before the poem is over. /OR/ Cameron is an adult, he's a doctor or smth bouj, he has a family, a house, the embodiment of the american middle aged straight white man dream life. But sometimes, in secret, he takes Welton's Yearbook out of the shelf, and he traces Charlie face, and he remembers.

the story: cameron and charlie are late-night swimming in the lake together. they’re fantasizing abt whatever and charlie says “we should run away” they continue the convo like they did the others. a few days later charlie brings it up again, seriously this time. “what? dalton are you on something?” no. they get into an argument and shit. about a week later cameron wakes up to charlie sneaking out, but this isn’t sneaking out like dps meeting sneaking out, he’s running away. cam: “charlie? what are you doing up?” charlie: “this is your last chance. you coming?” cam: *thinks* no.

fake: ratting on keating and more angsty mess

overdrive: first kiss moment. they’re meant to be studying but they got distracted and are just talking instead. charlie’s like “cam have u ever kissed sum1” cam: “i think u know the answer to that dalton” charlie: “do you want to” cam: “ha! that’s a laugh! who can i find within a mile of here that i could kiss” charlie: me. whole carpe diem whatever- “charlie are you kidding do you know what would happen if someone found out!?” “so i won’t let them” but they kiss and it’s cute

astronomy: au: cam never ratted out keating but neil still died but just that whole thing never happened. ok. ever since neil died both cam and char were different. their relationship was tense. before it had been perf and everyone was envious of them but after neil everything changed. cameron was more agressive and easily irritable. charlie was more reserved and quiet. they tried to fix it but they decided it would be best to split. they still saw eachother in hallways and stuff, but were no longer roommates. after a couple months, they were strangers.

people watching: a view on the cameron/charlie relationship from other people. they’re opposites obv. when ppl were first informed they were taken aback to say the least. but when they see how they are together they get it yk? yeah u do.

ur welcome for my genius guys u need it.

#chameron #dead poets society #dps boys #charlie dalton #richard cameron

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ohpretty-baby · 5 years ago

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midnight cereal

⇥pairing: jeon jungkook x reader ; established relationship

⇥synopsis: “it’s a little too late for breakfast” ; aka jungkook realizes that it’s the little things that makes him fall deeper for you

⇥genre: f l u f f

⇥warnings: cursing

⇥word count: 3.5k

i promise i’m not dead haha online schooling is just a pain

i’m working on some more fics i promise !! anyway here’s a gguk oneshot bc i thought abt it randomly when i was watching tv and eating cereal as a late night snack (creative, right?)

if you’re reading this, i love you! stay safe, healthy, and happy always <3

It’s wasn’t your looks that attracted Jungkook. It wasn’t the way your hair framed your face perfectly, or the way your smile made his world turn into deep shades of pink. Nor was it the way your eyes always seemed to twinkle when you looked at him, or how your body fit perfectly in his embrace.

In fact, none of your physical characteristics really mattered to Jungkook. He loved them all, inside and out, with his whole heart, but they weren’t even his favorite parts about you.

When asked: “What do you love most about your partner?” by his fans or the MC host on the show his band was guest starring on, he would find himself drawing a blank. Although he could list almost everything about you (he knew you like the back of his hand, and vice versa), he wasn’t entirely sure what he loved most about you.

In response, he’d just give a big grin and say that he just loved you for you. Everyone would coo at his answer, and the even bigger grin he flashed showed to the audience that he was satisfied with his own words.

But, in reality, he’d often spend the rest of the day figuring out how to answer the question. He’d stare at whatever his eyes could land on and just list every single thing about you in order to figure out what was his favorite.

He’d think about how you’d always subconsciously snuggle into him while you were sleeping, or how you’d always look so focused and adamant on beating him in Mario Kart, even though you both know that he would win at the very last minute.

He always got the blue shell, after all.

He thought about how you always looked amazing in whatever you wore, whether it be a velvet cocktail dress that emphasized your body perfectly or just his hoodie and that old pair of sweatpants you always wore even though there were a few holes here and there.

He’d remember all the times you surprised him by taking him out on a date, even though he knows that he’s supposed to do that for you. He’d also remember you always telling him not to worry about such things and that you should be allowed to spoil him sometimes too.

Then he’d reminisce on how ecstatic you’d look when he bought you anything. Whether it was a simple keychain from a tourist attraction or an elegant necklace from a designer brand neither of you could pronounce, he’d always be showered in your kisses of gratitude when he gave you gifts.

The first time he gave you a gift, it wasn’t anything special.

Well, to him, it wasn’t.

In fact, he was quite disappointed in himself for his poor choosing and his procrastination. He was about to come home from a world tour, and he wanted to get you souvenirs from almost every single country they went to. Unfortunately, they were so busy that he couldn’t get you all the things he wanted to. Even in the airports, he couldn’t go to the gift shops because he might be tackled by a fan. And when they were able to rest for a few days, Jungkook found himself passing out right after their concerts.

He eventually realized the error of his ways, and tried his best to get gifts in the last countries they were performing in.

As a result, he settled for a nice pen from Japan, a tacky white shirt with the classic slogan “I Love New York”, and matching bracelets from a tourist shop that was from somewhere. To this day he still couldn’t remember what country or state he got those bracelets in.

On the last day, the plane ride home was quite a sad scene. Jungkook’s eyes welled up with tears as his nose, cheeks and the tips of his ears were stained with blotchy tints of red. He rubbed his eyes profusely, trying not to sniffle or sob too loud.

“Shit, Kook, you okay?”

Jimin, who was sitting next to him, had taken out his earbuds and was now patting away Jungkook’s tears with his sleeve. This caught the attention of all the other boys, and soon enough Jungkook was being bombarded with questions. Namjoon gave him a consolatory mint, while Seokjin asked the flight attendant for a glass of water. Yoongi and Hoseok jokingly scolded Jungkook, telling him that he shouldn’t cry because it’ll ruin his image.

They stared at him, necks uncomfortably craning around to get a good look at the boy who was still crying.

“Sorry...” Jungkook mumbled, plopping the mint into his mouth.

They all shushed him, Taehyung reaching over from his seat in front of them to pat and ruffle Jungkook’s hair.

“I didn’t get her the gifts I wanted to,” He sobbed, his head dropping in his hands. More tears flowed out of his eyes. He’d never felt more disappointed in himself ever in his life.

Jimin let out a small chuckle before pinching his cheek.

“He’s all grown up now,” Jimin said to Taehyung in a teasing lilt. Taehyung snickered, shaking his head.

“Stop,” Jungkook whined, looking up and glaring at him.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” Jimin put an earbud in one of his ears before speaking, “She looks at you like you’re her entire world.”

Jungkook felt himself blush at Jimin’s statement.

“I’m sure just seeing you would be enough for her.”

Jimin was right that day.

Your reaction to Jungkook returning was overwhelming enough.

That day you broke out in tears of joy upon seeing him in the airport. You ran into his arms, snuggling deeply into his chest.

The car ride home, you were still emotional, driving down the highways teary-eyed. He laughed at your pout you had while he teased you, his eyes slightly droopy as the flight was tiring.

Soon, he fell asleep and woke up already in the house, a smile creeping up on his face when he realized that he finally was able to rest.

He’d have to deal with the sadness of being done with a world tour later. He had bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

After his shower, he cautiously crept into your shared bedroom, droplets of water falling from his hair and onto his face.

“Baby, I know it’s not a lot...” He frowned as you unpacked his luggage and sorted out his dirty and clean clothes, “But I got you something-“

You stared at him with wide, puffy eyes.

It was safe to say that you started crying even greater than before.

Jungkook still remembered how cute you looked when you had the “I Love New York” t-shirt while you were sobbing profusely.

It was an image that he always looked back on when he felt like he wasn’t enough for you, or when he felt like you two were growing distant. It reminded him that you loved him so much that even a cheap t-shirt from him would make you happy. It also reminded him that you deserved the not only the world, but the whole universe.

He planned to give that to you.

Eventually, time would pass by so long that he’d realize that he was sitting by himself for about an hour just thinking. He would lose the tension in his eyebrows since they were furrowed from mentally creating a list of just you. Then, he’d rub his eyes and try to catch up and find wherever his bandmates were.

If they were on a music video set, he’d continue with the filming and act like nothing happened. If they were taking a break from learning a new dance for their comeback, he’d do a few stretches and immediately get back into perfecting the steps of the choreography. At first his friends would ask him if was okay, but later on they became accustomed to this weird habit of his.

The day would pass by normally, them getting praised for a job well done, Jungkook packing all his things, and him excitedly making his way back to his and your home. He was ready to see you after a long day, even though he knew that it would already be way too late for you to be awake and have a conversation with him. He didn’t mind.

Just being around you was enough for him.

He’d spend the late night continuing his list, remembering how when you first met him, you didn’t even know what to say and ended up just staring at him, frozen. He’d chuckle to himself, thinking about how awkward the two of you were prior to when he finally mustered the courage to ask you out.

Jungkook would listen to the music playing in his car, his head bopping up and down to the beat. He’d then smile to himself at the cheesy love songs that he was grooving along to.

You had given him a playlist with all the songs that reminded you of him, and he hasn’t listened to anything else since.

The rest of the car ride would consist of him chuckling at the greasy lyrics of certain songs, telling him that he’d never be alone and that you’d spend the rest of your life with him. He always wondered where you found all of these tunes.

When you guys first met, you only mentioned to him that you like to listen to rap music. He figured you just wanted to look cool in front of him.

Eventually he would finally reach his home and after taking a quick shower and brushing his teeth, he’d find you snuggled up on the bed, your body peacefully rising up and down. He’d quickly lay in bed with you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body and taking in your sweet scent. Eyelids getting heavy, he’d snuggle into the back of your neck, placing a soft kiss on your hair and drifting off to sleep.

He always hoped to have a sweet dream about you. Something that could be about the family you two would have, or what your wedding would be like.

In the strange limbo of being half asleep and awake, Jungkook would realize exactly how tired he was from the day’s work. Then, snores would emit from him, his arms holding your body close to his own and locking you down in place. You’d still be in deep sleep, subconsciously grabbing one of Jungkook’s hands and placing it in yours.

He always hoped that things could stay like this forever. He wished he could pause time and just lay with you like that for as long as he wanted to, where neither you or him could be worried about anything. Nothing else mattered except for each other. The nights always gave him the best comfort, as he could honestly say that they were the most peaceful moments of his day.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Well, until he gets interrupted from his sleep.

The only thing he could feel was the cold air from the slightly opened window from your bedroom. His eyes would shoot open, stinging slightly as they were blinded by the moonlight.

The first thing he would notice was the absence of you, bedsheet wrinkles formed on your spot of the bed. He’d rub the sleep away from his eyes and feel the panic and dread seep into his heart. Tossing the covers to the side, Jungkook almost jumped out of the bed and went on a journey to look for you.

He couldn’t find you in the bathroom.

He always worried that one day you’d just leave him out of nowhere, and he could openly admit that that was one of his biggest fears.

However, Jungkook would find your blue toothbrush resting next to his in the black mug you had bought one time from a flea market.

He chuckled at the sight of the mug, flashbacks appearing in his mind.

You came home from work one day, later than usual. Jungkook had the day off, and was sitting on the couch playing video games.

You marched up to him rather triumphantly, kissing him proudly on the lips before showing off a plastic bag to him.

“What’s that, darling?” He asked, still breathless from the kiss you had given him. He bit his lip, cheeks warm and tinted pink. You beamed at him.

“I bargained for the first time today!”

Jungkook had never been more proud.

Tuning his attention to the situation at hand, Jungkook felt a weight lifted off of his shoulders, because if you were ever going to leave him he knew that you’d never even think about leaving that precious mug behind.

Taking a sigh of relief, he’d deduct that you must be in the kitchen or the living room.

The kitchen would be absent of you, but he’d notice that the pantry door was open. He’d peer into it and notice that your favorite cereal, Lucky Charms, was gone. Then, he would smile, knowing exactly what you were up to. Jungkook would grab a small bag of chips for himself and eat them before making a beeline to the living room, where he would now realize that the soft sounds of a show would be coming from there.

There he’d see the tv playing and you covered with a blanket, laying on the couch comfortably as you ate a spoonful of Lucky Charms. However, you never ate the cereal first. No. You ate the weird light brown parts that were only created in order to deem it somewhat “healthy” and a reasonable breakfast for kids. Jungkook would hear the soft crunch of the cereal and laugh softly to himself.

“Isn’t it a little too late for breakfast?” He’d tease, taking a seat next to you and crawling under the covers as well.

“Jungkook!” You’d say in surprise, mouth full of chewed up cereal. He’d scrunch his nose at the sight and place a soft kiss on your cheek, wrapping an arm around you. You’d lean into the touch almost immediately, giggling and shoving another spoonful into your mouth.

“You shouldn’t be up, y’know,” you mumbled, eyes focused on the action anime playing on the tv. Jungkook would be watching as well, eyes following the movements of the main character before actually responding to you.

“I could say the same for you.”

“Well, you have to wake up earlier!” You retorted, another soft crunch coming from your mouth, “I don’t have to wake up as early as you.”

“You still need sleep,” Jungkook rested his head on yours, still groggy, “Still need to sleep with me.”

“Can’t sleep without me?” You giggled, teasing him. He whined in response and you placed the cereal on the coffee table before cuddling with him. He flashed a lazy smile at you and you gave him a kiss before smiling back.

“That’s much better,” he sighed, having you back in his arms again.

“Hold on, hold on...” You placed another kiss on his lips, sitting up in his lap instead of laying with him. He frowned, feeling cold once more. You laughed and grabbed the bowl of cereal and placed it on his stomach, using it as a makeshift table.

“I still need to finish my marshmallows,” You mumbled, more to yourself rather than him, “And I need to finish this episode.”

Jungkook groaned, resting his head on the armrest and rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, suck it up,” You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I deserve an apology.”

“I’m sorry these marshmallows are sweeter than you?”

He immediately looked up to see you about to burst in laughter. His frown tilted downwards even more, and you pinched his cheek in response.

“I love you!”

“Yeah, right.”

“You love me too,” You nodded in satisfaction, flashing a smug smile that showed off your lips that were slightly stained blue.

“You’re lucky you’re super cute.”

“Thank you!” You plopped another marshmallow into your mouth, letting the sugar cover your tongue.

As you watched the show, still straddled on his lap, Jungkook stared at you endearingly. Even though it was usual for you to eat cereal such late at night, he still never got tired of seeing you like this.

He’d take in how you’d carefully examine the marshmallow before eating it, trying to determine what kind of shape it was. Then, you’d place it in your mouth, letting it dissolve before actually eating it. Jungkook always felt that you should chew the marshmallow right away since it was kind of on the crunchier side instead of the fluffier side, but you always reasoned that it was the best way to eat them and savor them.

He’d notice when an fight scene would pop up and you’d chew a little faster in anticipation of what would happen next. He’d also notice how you’d lick the sugar that had melted on your fingers while your eyes were fixed on the screen in front of the two of you.

“You want one?” You’d ask, and he’d nod, opening his mouth so you can feed him. He’d lightly chew on the marshmallow, feeling the sugar become compacted with his teeth.

It was then and there that he realized that his favorite thing about you was being able to share midnight cereal. He loved how comfortable these nights were, how the two of you didn’t need to do much to realize how much you loved each other. He just needed to watch you eat cereal and you just needed to share your marshmallows with him. He just needed you with his t-shirt and some shorts on as you sat comfortably in his lap.

He just needed the tv playing in the background while the two of you ate cereal in silence.

“You know I was lying, right?” You’d quietly say out of the blue, dragging him abruptly out of his trance.

“Huh?”

“About the marshmallows being sweeter than you,” Your eyes met him and he sat up slightly to give you a kiss.

You tasted like sugar and worn down mint toothpaste. You smelled of roses with a slight hint of sweat from being covered in blankets. You were warm and comforting on top of him. Jungkook thought he was floating.

He felt himself smile against your lips.

“I know.”

hope you liked it! it was really simple but i had a lot of fun writing it :) i have longer fics coming i promise ;)

#jungkook #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook oneshot #bts oneshot #jeon jungkook fic #fluff #bts jungkook #bts jungkook fic #bts jungkook drabble

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equalstrashflavoredtrash · 5 years ago

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Gentle Max - 1

a/n: So this is a song fic! The song in question being The Salesman, Denver Max by Blood Brothers. It’s not a love song, it’s actually a song abt kidnapping a teenage girl and taking her to Mexico.... so yeeeah.... Anyway, I was listening to it and had a silly idea and then @rzrcrst and @whenimaunicorn encouraged me and now here we are. I have changed some of the lyrics a bit, most notably changing it from Denver Max to Gentle Max (but srsly for years listening to the song I always thought he was saying gentle max) Also this is the first of two parts and part two will be mostly smut

summary: There should be nothing to fear when you invite your crush from work over for tacos ...right?

warnings: None in this chapter, but there will be a lot more for the next

word count: 2,088

Max Phillips x female reader//Bloodsucking Bastards

Part 2 - The Meal

(gif by @elskay)

1. The Dinner

Through the screen door your thoughts are quarantined, By the way you smell I can tell that you're fitting. My name is gentle Max, I eat heart attacks. From your mouth to your hands to the floor you're bubbling syntax.

With a sigh you hit send before clicking your phone off. You felt a little bad sending a last minute explanation, but you already knew the earful you’d get if you had told Emma earlier that you’d invited Max over for dinner.

Max Phillips… he was the supervisor at work, a new boss who’d only started a few months ago. He was meant to shake things up at the small sales phone bank, help raise profits. From the get-go Emma, your friend and cubicle partner, was highly suspicious of Max.

“Something’s up with him, he’s just too likable. It’s weird.” She’d declared after his introduction to everyone on the floor. You’d just rolled your eyes and called her paranoid. Max couldn’t be as bad as she suggested, anyway he was always nice to you.

It started slow; he’d give little compliments—noticing small things like your new earrings—and then there was the evening last month when you were working late and ended up having an hour-long conversation with him about horror films from the 70s. You’d never guess by the way he looked that he’d share your interest in old films, but that helped to cement your crush.

Then this afternoon you were exchanging pleasantries when you were struck with the sudden urge to ask him to dinner. The words were out of your mouth, inviting him over to your place for tacos before you even realized what you were saying. But the way his face lit up at the question, the way he smiled as he said he’d love to, melted any worry you had.

It wasn’t until you got back to your cubicle that it really started to set in. You had asked Max—Max your supervisor—over for dinner and he said yes. There was no way you could tell Emma right now; she’d spend the afternoon listing all the ways that Max could kill you and dispose of the body before sunrise, something you did not have time for—especially since you suddenly needed to stop by the grocery store after work.

Setting your phone to do not disturb, you plugged in the charger and left it on the bedside table hoping you wouldn’t come back to find too many angry texts.

You couldn’t help but pace around your little kitchen as you waited for Max to arrive, constantly checking the stove clock and stirring the simmering meat a bit more often than needed. When the knock at the door finally came you nearly jumped out of your skin. Trying not to get too excited and run, you did an awkward half shuffle across the living room.

Swinging open the storm door, you glanced down and realized you still had your dirty apron on and swore at yourself for forgetting. Then you looked up and your eyes met his. There was something you found immensely comforting about Max’s presence—just being near him seemed to put you at ease. Whenever he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey,” you said in a quiet voice, unable to tear yourself away from him, soaking in the fact that he was here, that he wanted to spend time with you outside of work. It’s not that he was out of your league or anything, no definitely not that. He was very attractive—with his straight white teeth and deep warm eyes—but there was something about him that drew you closer. The more time you spent with him the more you felt he was similar to you; hiding his interests and who he really was in order to fit into the cookie cutter mold of the corporate world. You felt a connection to him and you hoped he felt it, too.

Max said your name with a smile and the sound of his voice broke you from your daydream state. “So… are you going to invite me in?” He asked, his tone light and teasing as he did that little half smile you loved.

“Oh! Yeah, yes please come in,” You half mumbled as you stepped aside, making room for him to get by. You blushed, looking away before backing up a little bit further to avoid getting the pepper juice from your apron on his suit.

“Please excuse my attire, a meeting went long so I came here straight from the office.” You were paying attention as he talked, you really were, but you also couldn’t help noticing the way his shoulders moved as he shrugged off his jacket, and just how tight his waistcoat hugged his torso.

“Oh, no don’t worry, It’s fine. You can hang your coat by the door, I need to go check on the meat.” Stepping away from him and into the kitchen gave you a moment to gather your thoughts. You really liked Max, and wanted to make a good impression, but it was hard not to be a little intimidated by him. He seemed to have everything together and navigate life with ease, never even having a bad hair day. But you could do this—even if you felt like a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher every time you were around him—you could have a pleasant evening. Anyway, he seemed to be into you, too.

Moving the pan off of the heat you placed it on a trivet before grabbing a spoon. Shuffling around the cramped space of your kitchen you made sure you had everything set out, cheese, lettuce, sour cream, peppers—all the usual fixing. So focused on double checking everything you barely noticed when Max entered the kitchen.

“Something smells delicious,” He hummed, suddenly standing right behind your shoulder.

You jumped a little in surprise, letting out a nervous laugh as you turned to face him. Trying to not stare, you noted that he now had his sleeves rolled up with his waistcoat unbuttoned and his tie loosened just a bit. Something small in the back of your head encouraged you to grab the bright red strip of silk that hung from his neck and yank him forward into a kiss. The thought was gone as quick as it came and you prayed the lingering heat in your face wasn’t a dead give away.

“Ok, yeah, so I figured we could do a build-your-own thing, make it however you want,” You explained, trying not to stammer or think about how close he was standing. “The shells are just over there if you want to grab some.”

“How ever I want, sounds perfect. I am honestly starving and can't wait to sink my teeth in.” Max pivoted and grabbed one of the plates before handing it off to you, his and brushing ever so slightly against your finger—the contact sending a chill up your arm

Dinner with Max was surprisingly easy. Soon as the two of you were sitting down and talking, the conversation just flowed, bouncing from one topic to the next without pause or awkward silences. He complimented your cooking, which you tried to downplay saying it wasn’t much more than prep but he insisted it was delicious. You didn’t even notice when the grandfather clock in your hallway chimed, counting the late hour as both of you stayed seated at the rickety IKEA table long after you’d cleared your plates.

“Last film I watched was Belladonna of Sadness,” you responded, thinking back to the other night as you swirled the little bit of wine at the bottom of your glass before tipping it back with a gulp. “It’s one of my favorites, the animation is just so expressive and there’s a whole sequence that can only be described as a hair orgy,” you smiled to yourself when you heard Max chuckle. Every time he laughed or agreed something in you felt light as air, and wanted to tell him more just so you could see the way the corner of his mouth curled up. “It's a really great film though, truly one of a kind.”

“It sounds fascinating.” Leaning forward Max reached to grab the wine bottle while keeping his gaze locked with yours. “Maybe you could show it to me some night.” Your heart jumped at his words, realizing he wanted to spend more time with you. “Uh-oh, out of wine.” His comment caught your attention and you quickly hopped up.

“Don’t worry, I have a back up!” You called over your shoulder as you hurried to the fridge. Pulling out the bottle of Merlot you spun around and found yourself face to face with Max. “I—uh, didn’t hear you follow me—,” you mumbled, voice trailing off as his finger stroked along your upper arm, feather light touches that barely made contact but still so perceptible even through the cotton of your blouse. A shiver went down your spine, and you felt yourself relaxing into his presence, wanting him closer than he already was.

“I was actually in the mood for some dessert,” Max stated, his words tinged with a low rumble that came from somewhere deep in his chest. As his eyes drifted from his fingers—now at your shoulder—to your eyes. His gaze held yours, keeping you from thinking about anything besides just how rich the brown of his iris were.

“I—I didn’t prepare any—,” you stammered, noticing the way his eyes flitted to your lips as you spoke.

“It’s a good thing I had something planned then,” his voice was low but steady as he spoke, slowly stepping closer, backing you up against the fridge before dropping his head forward. His lips were almost on yours when he stopped. “I’ve been wanting this.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, not able to form a coherent thought, let alone a single word with the promise of Max so near.

You felt like jelly as his lips met yours. He overwhelmed your senses until all that you could register was him and the cool press of his mouth. His hands came to you, one on your waist that pulled you against his firm chest as the other cradled your jaw. Your skin burned under his touch as he brushed his thumb against your cheek, his gentle caresses feeling almost icy in contrast.

All you could think about was wrapping your arms around him—and not the wine bottle you were still holding. Raising your arms to reach for Max’s shoulders, the glass slipped from your slack fingers and shattered as it met the tile floor.

The sound of the shards scattering across the room rang in your ears, drawing your attention away from the man in front of you. You could feel your stomach drop as you looked at the dark puddle of liquid splashing onto the floor. The reflections of the ceiling lights looked red as they danced with the ripples until all the debris lost its momentum. Panic was starting to creep forward from the back of your skull as the realization of all the clean up you suddenly needed to do set in. What if Max wanted to leave instead of wait for you to mop everything up?

Just as you were trying to parse together some kind of apology, his large hand came to cup the back of your neck. His grip cooled the hot sting of anxiety that was bubbling under your skin as you shifted to look up at him. As soon as your eyes met his you relaxed, no longer worried that he was going anywhere

“You don’t need to worry about that right now,” Max stated, his voice soft and soothing in your ears while his words held an unyielding presence to them that felt solid. His thumb continued to draw little circles against your skin, dancing along the side of your neck.

“Yeah, I don’t need to worry about that right now,” you echoed, watching the way he smiled as you agreed. Something inside you buzzed under his approval, wanting to do anything he asked. Biting your lip you tried to hide your grin as you felt the same little impulse from before, this time giving in and wrapping your fingers around his bright red neck tie.

“Why don’t you show me to your room?”

With a nod and a tug, you stepped to the side, pulling him along as you shuffled around the pool of Merlot, leading Max towards the door of your bedroom.

---

Part 2 - The Meal

@whenimaunicorn @captbvcks @no-droids @rzrcrst @readsalot73 @spacegayofficial @lannister-slings-and-arrows @libellule2001

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips bloodsucking bastards #my writing

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lunar-lair · 4 years ago

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Uh,,ok so like,,,,,,,I had this? Idea? And I just wanted to know what people thought of it before I actually wrote it, so uh. Yeah

(Sidenote, this is basically an outline/bulletfic? Like it's Mostly fleshed out in terms of concept but that doesn't mean it's a full Fic yknow? I plan on...hopefully, eventually...writing this Fully. I just wanted to get input on just how off base my characterization is and shit...hehe. Also my excuse for any weird writing is that I wrote this in the bath and I was trying to go Fast so my water wouldn't get cold. Anyways notes over bye)

Named 'Cleaved Apart, Cleaved Together': abt The Split and how the two were separated (physically AND emotionally) and then how they bond again after Remus is accepted and the boys like,,,,,,accept each other as Bros again

At first I was thinking No Fusion but also like,,,I really like the idea of them fusing again on accident when they're really super happy or in sync

So after a Lot of bonding-chilling in the Imagination, just fucking around with each other, and even talking thru shit together-they finally manage it.

They were just in the common room with all the other sides, maybe setting up for a movie night or something?

They came rushing down the stairs, talking frantically together about a new idea they had while pushing each other lightly with every silly tease and making jokes about old shenanigans that only they could really understand

(Patton and Janus could remember days before The Split, when the two were one.

Janus could still remember them shouting not to be seperated.

Patton still hated the fact that it was basically his decision to keep them apart.

Thank the Lord they were close again.)

The two finally stepped into their usual spot in front of the tv, chatting with each other and the others

Eventually, they ended up talking about some stuff they'd made together. Some plans they'd been making together. They finally told a joke at the same time that got them falling over each other laughing,

And then it happened.

There was a flash of light and then-and then-

It wasn't King. It wasn't Creativity, the original.

But it was them.

Patton and Janus only sat there, teary eyed with dropped jaws, and Virgil and Logan began questioning what the FUCK was up, how are two sides fusing-?

And Roman and Remus sat there, tearing up before laughing a moment.

"Roman."

"Remus."

Two almost-different voices right after one another, happier than any of them had ever heard them.

"We need to talk about this separately though, hm?" Roman, with a laugh.

"Yeah."

Another flash and he was gone, replaced by the brothers again who shook their heads, in a bit of disarray.

"Was that ok?" They asked at the same time, staring at each other.

"We don't have to be him anymore...I mean, we're our own people now Remus."

"Yeah, but that was FUN!" Remus replied, throwing his arms around Roman.

Roman laughed. "Then maybe every now and then?"

And Remus just laughed back. "Why the Hell not!"

They finally turned at the sound of a sniffle.

Janus was crying, and Patton wasn't really much better. Logan and Virgil seemed bewildered, though Logan a little less so.

"Janus? Patton? I understand you remember original Creativity more vividly than we do, but I do not understand what elicited sadness. Are you alright?"

Janus gave a watery laugh, wiping away some tears. "God, I couldn't be better."

Remus and Roman stopped, their smiles finally dropping. Roman reached forward, arm just a few inches in front of Janus. "Did we...do something wrong?"

Janus smiled again and shook his head, tugging on Roman's arm. "Come here you dork."

Patton pulled Remus in along with them and they all ended up in a little cuddle pile, Logan and Virgil joining in too, on the outside, bc Bitch, We're Worried Too.

Remus looked up at them, just Confused. "Then what's up??"

Janus and Patton's smiles dimmed a bit, and Janus began with a sad smile; "It's...simply a long story."

"That long story short, though, uh…" Patton continued, rubbing a hand on his neck nervously. "Wellll...the Split was really scary…"

Janus chuckled. "Exactly. Imagine the friend you've known since you were born splitting into two all of a sudden with ear-ringing screams to match."

"And then, after that…"

"You...decided to split those sides of him...just because one wasn't as perfect as the other."

Patton looked down and held Remus a little tighter. "...that was...mostly my decision."

Janus gave him a Look that simply meant 'we've talked abt that Way too much dude' and moved on. "But either way...it was...well…"

"Neither of you remember it, but...you...didn't want to be split."

Janus smiled again, sweet as honey. "And even after all we did...you two still managed to stick together."

"And even if the person you make now wasn't who he used to be-and it shouldn't be, really-it was like…"

"...seeing two...old friends you used to know meeting again."

"Or seeing two pieces of a whole come together again to make something even more than what they started with."

Janus teared up a little again, gripping them a little tighter. "It's so great to see you two whole again."

Remus and Roman had memory upon memory of feeling...empty. Like there was a piece missing of them. Like nothing they made was quite right. And since they had started to bridge their gap, they'd finally felt that emptiness filling up.

Janus and Patton could remember so, so many times where the two of them had missed their brother, where they told them something wasn't right-especially in the beginning.

Even Logan had memories of trying to figure it out with Roman.

Virgil remembered plenty of days where Remus just seemed off, but couldn't explain what was wrong, and...no matter how little Virgil understood, he would sit with him and try to ward it off anyways.

Remus and Roman laughed, eyes teary, and locked hands between them all.

"Yeah.

We're glad too."

And now for my myriad of Notes:

I was actually thinking of just some kind of melding shit for the fusion bc I thought it would be Cool but then I realized it was Thomas' brain so it'd probably look like the shit from SU. Big F :///

Sorry for any inconsistencies, I was giving .2 shits at the time and also In The Tub, so

Me, a bitch who has siblings but isn't very close to them emotionally: *shaking my phone wildly* hoW THE FU CK DO I WRITE BRO THERS INTERACTING S O F T L Y-

I'm Certainly planning on more stuff coming from Virgil and Logan, we can't leave them out

I'm Aware that 80% of this isn't canon, but,,,,last I checked we didn't really care here? So??

For the scene after Roman and Remus defuse, I'm honestly thinking more of smth where the two go to one of their rooms and talk it out and THEN go back to the commons to check on The Boys and o h sh it why are Janus and Patton crying-

Answer: they thought they'd fucked everything up for them but they didN'T! FUCK YEA!!!

Idk how to explain,,,Why they're emotional abt this actually

Like...idk. Um...they both care for both of them and didn't want them to be separated Permanently bc they Knew they didn't feel right w/out each other?

Ok that works

Anyways but uh

Then Logan and Virgil get to ask some questions and THEN we get to the part where Janus and Patton explain why they are In Tears

Also Logan wasn't as old as Pat and Jan when Creativity split, so he doesn't really...remember it

Virgil was probably Very New tbh

The opening scene is ABSO LUT ELY going to Extremely metaphorical and sad and like 'two pieces of a whole cleaved apart' yknow

Gotta make angst to make that fluff!!

Also don't ask me why Janus falls apart Even Harder than Patton does here man, I think he's just On The Mind and I'll make our dad friend more emotional in Post, I Promise

Also pls hmu if the shit I've managed to put here so far is So Out There it's Impossible, I've written Janus one (1) time and I have written Remus zero (0) times ok

Also Remus and Roman don't...really remember much of the split. They remember feeling whole and then empty and whole again, and they have some of OG Creativity's memories, but the Split and moments following are...Foggy. Rightfully so, aswell, tbh.

Also how I imagine it going is like,,,,the boys are split, they hang out for a bit, and then they're taken by their respective Parent(ish) and are taught Entirely Differently and therefore grow to dislike each other!!!!!!!

patton has oh so much to regret.

They could've been Brothers...

Oh my God they could've been Br ot her s...............

Patton and Janus at 3 am crying over the fact they separated the boys at the Split be like:

Anyways!! My whole point is that Hopefully any problems will be Fixed when I actually write it but I just wanted to get the concept out there and uh,,,,,,yeah

Anyways uh *shuts my door* yea that's that,,,thanks for coming to my ramblings ig

(I'm so sorry I can't put a read more, I'm on mobile,,,)

#sanders sides #ts deceit #ts remus #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #creativitwins #catch me crying over the twins 24/7 #ts logan #i forgot logan;;#i wrote the whole og idea in google docs on a ideas doc #it ended up......Way longer than i anticipated #also f for us mobile users in the chat #trash talks #long post #lots of text #sorry;; :'(

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supernaturalfanluc · 4 years ago

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@superduckbatrebel : Okay, so what abt a fic where Dean and Cas work on a place (You can choose which) And they seem like they're dating, everyone thinks so. But one day, Dean shows up with his new girlfriend Lisa and everyone learns that Dean and Cas were never dating, and then you make your ending, IDK it's okay if you think it sound boring, it's jut one idea

Thank you for the idea, I shifted a few things around. I know it’s not quite what you expected it to be, but I hope you like it.

“Cas!” I heard Dean’s familiar voice from across the apartment.

“Yes, Dean?” I responded as I searched through all the boxes. We had just moved into an apartment together. We thought that since we were both going to the same highschool and needed to get away from our homes, it would be financially easier to rent out an apartment together.

“Gabe and Sammy are going to come over to help us unpack and then we’re gonna head over to the diner.” Dean’s cucumber green eyes landed on my vibrant blue eyes for a second before they flew across the room.

“Okay! Guess we will see the two bringers of destruction soon.” I sighed thinking about the last time Gabe and Sam got together to prank the both of us.

“Yep! I’ll leave you to it and make sure to hurry your feathery-”

“Dean!”

“What!?” I glared at him, which, somehow answered his question.

I picked up my box and took it over to my room while dean followed silently behind me. We dropped my boxes off into my room before doing the same to his. We worked in comfortable silence before the doorbell rang.

“I’LL GET IT!” I screamed from across the room as I ran trying to get to the door before dean. Dean sprinted towards the door and before I could stop myself I tripped and flew right at him causing us to go stumbling across the room.

“It’s open.” Dean groaned as I tried to get out of the wrapped up mess we were. His leg was hooked around mine while he layed on my arm. I could feel my other arm stuck between around legs. His free hand was on the side of his head rubbing the spot that collided with the wall. His other one was also stuck between us.

I heard someone open the door while I let my head drop onto Dean’s chest. I let out an exasperated sigh once I gave up trying to get out of the knot we were in. Dean laughed as he watched me struggle.

“Dean, what do you think you’re doing?” I hear sam say with just as much of the amount of sass as my brother‘s candy.

“Dog pile!” I hear Gabe scream as he and Sam come running at us. I bit down on Dean’s leather jacket as I fought back a scream. I felt the pain hit me and it hit me hard. Suddenly, I heard a loud pop in my arm. I shook the pain off even though it felt like a thousand knives were going through me when I moved it. Dean must’ve heard the noise because he struggled as he tried and failed to push Sam and Gabe off.

I smiled weakly at him before yelling at them to get off and held me and Dean unravel ourselves. As soon as they got up, I felt some of the pain and pressure leave my arm. I let out a relieved sigh. Once they pulled Dean and me apart, Dean immediately checked my arm to make sure it was okay.

“DUDE!!!” Dean said with a gasp. “You fractured my little angel’s arm!”

“What!?” I said confused.

“GABE!!!!!” Sam whined.

“It wasn’t me you oversized moose!” Gabe replied defensively.

“With all the candy you eat, you are just as bad as me!” Sam stuck his tongue out at Gabe. Gabe ran over and licked it before Sam could retract it. Gabe winked at Sam’s shocked face as Dean and I let out ooo’s and aww’s.

“Well are you going to help us unpack or not?” I said frustrated at my hungry stomach.

Sam and Gabe let out out groans before retreating to our rooms. Gabe went into mine and Sam went into Dean’s. I could hear Sam teasing Dean before asking him what happened before they opened the door. I laughed to myself as I thought about my clumsiness.

Before long, we had finished unpacking and we’re on our way to the diner. Jo, Ash, and Ellen were all going to be there today. I smiled fondly as I thought about how kind they all are to me. Even though they are Dean’s family, they treat me like family too. It must be because they’ve known me for so long.

We ordered what we normally do before a lovely looking brunette haired woman walked over to our table. Sam and Gabe exchanged looks as they walked her walk over like she owned the place. I looked at them confused while they just smiled and shrugged.

“Hey dean,” she said with a bright smile, “you still up for tonight?” She winked at him as his cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Umm...” His voice trailed off as he looked at me shyly before turning his attention back at her. “Yea, seven tonight, my place.” He smiled as he wrote down our apartment number and address on a napkin and handed it back to her.

I got cleared my throat and excused myself, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation as I walked over to the restroom. I opened one of the stall doors and sulked in. I have had a crush on Dean for a while now... At first, it started off as a great friendship, then we became best friends, and soon family, then those feelings developed into more. I always pushed it away not wanting to confront the sad truth that Dean would never like me back.

I silently sobbed with my head in my hands. I sat down on the closed seat of the toilet for about five minutes before I heard the door open and someone walk in. I whipped my eyes as I pretended to get up from finishing and flushed the toilet. I pulled out my phone and checked my eyes to make sure it wasn’t visible that I had been crying. I sighed, I have cried a lot growing up and had learned a thing or two about hiding the fact that I had been crying. I’ve hidden it so much I guess my body had gotten used to the fact that it needed to remain hidden.

“Are you okay?” I heard Sam’s voice echo through the bathroom. There was the smallest hint of empathy and worry in his voice.

“Of course, just needed to use the restroom.” I looked down and realized that my fly was undone. Thank goodness, I thought to myself as I loudly zipped it back up. I hoped that Sam would hear that as use it as proof that I had indeed come to use the restroom.

“Okay, whatever you say.” I walked out of the restroom to find Sam washing his hands. I leaned over the one on his left and decided to do the same. I smiled thankful for the silence. We exchanged a look that said more than a million words ever could. A few years ago, I had told Sam how I felt about Dean. I’ve always trusted him and he’s confided in me as well. He said he understood and revealed the fact that he had feelings for my brother. We have been there for each other ever since, always there in case one of us needed to let it out.

We walked back out to find that Dean and Lisa had left to go out for a walk by the park. Gabe smiled at Sam the second he Sam him and ran over to drag him back to the booth. I laughed as I watched Sam get confused with all the mixed signals he was getting. If I was him, I would be confused too. We always knew that Gabe was pansexual, it just confused us on whether or not he liked Sam too.

“So, what’s with Lisa?” I watched Gabe look at Sam for help. Sam just pushed Gabe and motioned for him to tell me.

“Dean and Lisa have been dating for a while now, but they haven’t told anyone. Dean’s keeping it a secret from you. Dean didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or make you feel like your friendship was going to die out.” Gabe sighed, he knew how I felt about Dean too. I didn’t tell him but he figured it out. Most people assumed Dean and I were dating but it was just how close our friendship was.

“Yea, but don’t worry, he’s probably going to figure out how quick she is to move on and go onto another guy. She isn’t the most faithful person, maybe when she’s older she’ll straighten out.” Sam looked at me hopefully. I smiled at him and gave them a hug, thankful that they were always there for me.

Once we were done eating, I got the check and paid for all of us. Dean was supposed to pay but he didn’t leave any money. I guess he got so caught up in the presence of his girlfriend which he didn’t tell me— his best friend, that’s always been there for him, and shown him nothing but loyalty, love, and respect— about.

We walked home once we realized that Dean also took the keys of the impala with him. I smiled weakly while Gabe and Sam tried cheering me up along the way, telling me jokes and funny stories while making a fool out of themselves.

We got home and I allowed Sam and Gabe to spend the night. They stayed in my room while I grabbed some blankets and took the couch. I didn’t bother changing or taking a shower and just went to bed before Dean and Lisa could get home.

~~~~~~~~~~ The next day ~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up and found myself wrapped in Dean’s blankets. I looked around confused and realized that I was in Dean’s room. I peeked out the door and was surprised by the sight of breakfast and Sam, Gabe, Lisa, and Dean all sitting down at the table laughing. I softly closed the door and curled back up on Dean’s bed as I fell back asleep.

“Wake up!” I heard someone say as their body fell onto mine. I groaned remembering how much my arm hurt when pressure was applied to it. I hadn’t moved it much the other day but I could tell it was already getting better, I’m a pretty fast healer. It’s almost inhuman.

“I’m awake.” I mumbled as I felt someone else shake the bed.

“Hell yea! We have school today! You better be awake now, Cassie!” I jolted away once I heard Gabes voice echo from the opposite side of the room as Sam.

“I AM AWAKE!” I ran out the door and was surprised to find Lisa sitting outside on her phone. I squealed when I felt Dean’s strong arms grip me and drag me back to his room.

“Hey! You assbutt!” I screeched.

“Assbutt?” Dean asked amused as I blushed.

“We already got you some clothes.” Sam said as Gabe showered me in perfume.

“What’s that!” I asked through sneezes. “It’s giving me a headache!!! Why does it smell like artificial strawberries?”

“It’s Lisa’s, she agreed to let me shower you with it once you woke up.” Gabe smiled innocently.

“IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!!” I screamed as I quickly threw off all my clothes.

“Get some underwear on first! We have a lady in this home!” Dean squealed as I ran out of his room chasing Gabe. I stopped in my tracks as I looked right up at Lisa’s amused face. I turned around and caught the underwear Sam threw at me. I ran after Gabe, throwing them on in the process. I tackled him and grabbed the perfume out of his hands as I sprayed it viscously on him. I ran back into Dean’s room and threw on my clothes.

“Let’s go!” I said as I ran back out, throwing a pancake into my mouth in the process. We all ran to the impala and jumped in as we raced to school. We got there just a few minutes before the bell rang, barely getting into our classes.

When I came out as gay to the school last year, a lot of people had taken that as a reason to bully me some more. I always struggled with being bullied. My name, clothes, and weak way of being didn’t help. Dean was one of the most popular boys in the school. He always tried to help but his friends always forcefully pulled him back.

I sighed as I sat through another long day of being called a fag and other names. I was beaten in the parking lot during lunch and pelted in spit balls during class. Gabe helped me clean myself up and apply some makeup after lunch. Dean has only ever heard the names they’ve called me, he never knew about the abuse. It must’ve helped that he was barely in any of my classes. People have learned to keep it hidden from Dean and so have I.

Once school ended, I ran back home. I opened up the apartment and plopped down onto my bed, locking the doors behind me. I cried into my pillow before Dean could get home. Once I stopped, I got up and jumped into the shower. I smiled as the cold water hit me like a refreshing wave. Before I knew it, the door to the apartment opened up. I heard keys jingle as they feel onto what I believe to be the couch. I heard Dean hum a tune we both knew very well. I stopped the water near the end of the song. As I stepped out I sang “For I can't help falling in love with you...”

“Elvis...” Dean said as he opened the door and smiled a toothy grin. I leaped back into the curtains and fell inside the bathtub. I sighed thinking about how clumsy I was while Dean laughed at me. Once he was done laughing, he helped me up and out of the curtain. I hid my face in embarrassment the entire time. He tossed me the towel and I changed into my clothes. He looked entertained while he threw off his clothes and hopped into the shower. Once I finished, I picked up my stuff and closed the door behind me leaving Dean to hum his tunes alone.

I walked into my room and gasped as I looked into the mirror. I saw all the bruises and cuts that I have accumulated and realized that Dean might’ve seen. Yesterday, I had been wearing makeup just in case. Once I took the shower it must’ve all washed off. I groaned hoping that he was too caught up in his fit of laugher to realize.

Later on around dinner, Dean had made a delicious pie and some burgers. Cheeseburgers are my favorite and he knew that so he had made some just for me. We sat down at the table with the lights off and some candles lit so that the electric bill won’t be too high. I smiled as I bit down into the delicious burger. Dean looked at me with a look I couldn’t quite identify. I smiled up at him as I devoured the delicious burger. I wonder if Dean tastes better.

“Cas?” Dean asked me, he was happy to see that I was enjoying the food he made.

“Yes?” I said as I bit down taking another big bite. I moaned thinking about how delicious it tasted. Dean’s cooking was one of a kind.

“What do you think of Lisa?” I chocked on my burger and fought the urge to cough. I sat their red faced as I reached for the water and guzzled it down.

“Wow. That bad.” Dean sighed and I could almost hear the disappointment in his voice. I looked back up at him, ashamed of myself for letting my feelings get in the way of our friendship.

“No! I’m sorry, I was just surprised by the question. I didn’t really know about her. I just found out last night.” I mentally slapped myself for being so awkward. Dean shifted in his seat and the silence was biting at me.

“Okay...” Dean’s voice trailed off and he ran his hands through his hair. I ate my food even though I had lost my appetite. I know, it’s horrible for me to be such a jerk. Dean is my best friend after all, I should be supportive.

“She’s great. She’s pretty and kind and caring. She has a wonderful personality and seems to really love you.” I blurted out. I didn’t mean most of what I had said but I said it anyways. I wanted to make Dean happy even if that meant putting myself down.

I have struggled with depression and anxiety for a while now. Self harm and suicidal thoughts were a horrible side affect to that. A little more sadness wouldn’t cause much more harm than has already been done. I’ve been abused, neglected, bullied, hurt, and so much more.

My parents kicked me out as soon as they realized that I was gay. Most people think I’m gay anyways. No one really gave me time to explain that I was bisexual. I just told my parents that I liked boys one day and they immediately assumed. They told the school before they kicked me out of the house. The word got out from the principle to the teachers and from the teachers to the students.

Whenever I tried to explain they all just thought I was saying that to make my punishment less painful. Thankfully, Dean, Sam, Gabe, Balthy, Charlie, Kevin, Benny, and a few others believed me. Even though Dean is the most popular jock in school, that doesn’t stop him from being friends with the school punch bag aka freak. Some of Dean’s friends are my friends too now. Most of them aren’t aware of how I’m treated either. The ones that are dont say much because they aren’t as close with Dean.

“Cas!” I felt strong hands grip my shoulder and shake me. I leaped up from my chair and turned around pinning the person to the wall. My vision was blurry and it didn’t help that I couldn’t see very well in the dark. I wiped the wetness away from my eyes and focused on the person in front of me. I let go as soon as I realized it was Dean.

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean looked at me, concern flooding his eyes. “Where did all those scratches and bruises come from? Are you wearing makeup? Cas!”

“I- I... Dean! I’m okay, I was playing soccer with Gabe earlier and I tripped over a rock. His foot ending up colliding with my face during the fall.” I looked at Dean and felt bad for lying to him. I was surprised by how quick and easy it had become for me to lie. Dean looked at me and nodded.

“You didn’t have to hide that from me. You fall all the time you klutz.” Dean chucked and I soon felt my face flush a deep red.

“I do not!”

“Do too!”

“I’m going to bed, assbutt!”

“Fine! Me too!”

Dean and I stormed to our rooms while laughing. I plopped down onto my bed and closed my eyes ready for another day in hell.

~~~~~~~~~~ Next Day ~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to the wonderful smell of freshly baked pancakes. I wondered into the kitchen after my shower while I clumsily threw my clothes on. I sat down at the table admiring Dean from afar. Once he turned around my eyes flickered to the pan in his hand. I laughed as I thought about Gabe.

“Ready for breakfast?” He said throwing the food down.

Once we finished gobbling down our food, we got into the car, picked up sam and Gabe, and drove to school. The rest of our siblings lived together and drove each other to school. John was out at work a lot and Mary had sadly passed away. Adam stayed with the Novak’s and had a very good relationship with all the siblings. As soon as we got to school, we parted ways.

“Hey Novak!” I heard an all too familiar voice yell from down the hall. I looked around eager for an exit only to find out that I was cornered. I looked back at my school bullies as I collapsed on the floor and let their beatings take over. I sobbed once it was done. Their kicks and insults flooding my brain. Their punches beating me down more than usual. I crawled into the bathroom and fumbled through my pocket.

I grabbed an all too familiar blade. I felt the cold metal brush against my finger tips. I walked into a stall and shut the door behind me. I didn’t bother to check if there was anyone else in the bathroom. I didn’t care anymore. I needed this. I took in a shaky breath as I put the smooth blade up against my skin. I pushed down and sliced into my skin. I watched as the wound took some time to open up and let out the all too familiar red color. I moaned as I felt the pain remind me I was still alive. I was still in control. I had some say in the world. I could decide whether I lived or died.

I walked out of the stall and put the blade back into my pocket. I washed my hands and let out a gasp when I turned around to see Dean. I pulled my sleeves down but by then it was too late. He knew. He knew everything.

I tried to run. I tried to get away but he just grabbed my other arm. He pulled me in close to his chest and I let out an ugly sob. I cried into him until I heard the bell ring. I pulled away from him and saw the sympathy in his eyes.

“We will talk about this later. Stay safe, goodbye.” Dean walked out of the bathroom and I looked myself in the mirror happy to see that my body had already adjusted. I walked out and was glad that my body had been able to heal so well and so fast. Sure some of today’s scratches and bruises were there but yesterday’s were barely visible. My mother used to say it was a gift. That was before she left.

The rest of the day went my smoothly. I didn’t get much more trouble. I did get some insults thrown at me but nothing physical. I was happy to see Sam and Gabe come out with grins on their faces when they pulled me into a hug.

“Rough day?” Sam poked my rib playfully.

“You could say that.” I rolled my eyes when Gabe scanned me.

“I’m gonna go home! See you guys tomorrow!” I ran off before they could say anything else.

When I got home, I found Dean and Lisa sitting close together on the couch. I took off my trench coat and hung it. I walked to my room and gave them their privacy. I dropped my keys into my bed and opened up my books to study.

Dean didn’t end up making dinner for me today. He did make some for Lisa though. I don’t mind. I’m not hungry much anyways. I’m sure other people deserve food more than I do. I did get to study and read some fanfic.

I threw off my shoes and plopped into bed. It was warm today so I pulled off my clothes and stayed in my boxers. I sighed relieved to be out of my clothes and getting some breeze. I closed my eyes ready for another day in hell.

~~~~~~~~~~ A few weeks later ~~~~~~~~~

Dean and Lisa have been publicly dating in school now. He’s grown distant and she’s been spending more and more nights over. The bad thoughts and habits have grown more and more common. Sam and Gabe have grown worried about me and come over to check up on me a lot. My grades haven’t dropped and the abuse has gone up. My self esteem and mental well-being has dropped though. I’m drowning in my negativity.

Today is a Tuesday? No, yesterday was Tuesday. I opened up my phone to check the calendar and as it turns out it is Tuesday. That’s strange I was pretty sure it was Wednesday. It must be the depression and/or anxiety speaking.

I walked out the door to find Dean and Lisa having breakfast just like they did yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that... I sighed as I opened up the fridge and grabbed an energy drink. I ran out the door and realized I was still in the same clothes as yesterday. Whatever.

I got to school and was greeted by the same treatment. Everything was the same. Same old school, same old friends -I have none-, same old teachers, same old classes, same old bullies. I sighed as I sat through the day wondering when it would be over.

After class, Crowley, Abbadon, and a few others pulled me out to the parking lot for the usual treatment.

~~~~~~~~~ Time jump 1 month ~~~~~~~~~~

“Cas! Come on! We are going to be late for the party!” Dean shouted from across the room. He was tugging his pants on while I was focused on taming my hair. After a few tries I gave up.

“Dean!!! I’m the one waiting on you!” I said with an exasperated sigh.

“Then lets go!!!!” Dean ran over to me and grabbed my hand tugging me out the door.

The car ride was very comfortable and consisted of Dean singing horribly off tune with his rock station and me teasing him. Truth is, he has a good voice when he wants to, but sometimes he really could care less. I smiled as I took in how happy he was.

Once we got to the party, we jumped out of the car and ran in. We had gotten there decently early and had gotten a great parking spot right out front. The music was blaring and despite it being early there were still a lot of people. Dean left me and went around looking for Lisa.

I walked over to the nearest and most abandoned corner and sat down with a cup filled with a mixture of water and color dye in my hands, just in case. I took in shaky breaths as I absorbed the reality of my anxiety attack. I walked into the bathroom and took a moment to myself.

Along the way, I realized I had lost my cup and went to go grab some punch. One turned into two and two turned into three and well you know how it goes. Next thing I knew, I was buzzed and on the breaking point of being drunk. Almost everyone around me was very drunk. I looked around for an empty room to myself once I decided I needed an escape.

I walked upstairs and spotted a dark door down the hallway on the dark side that looked decently abandoned. I barely open the door and peeked in to find Lisa ontop of someone that was most certainly not Dean. Before I could regret anything, I pulled out my phone and started filming. I didn’t film too much, just enough to be able to prove it to Dean. Once I had solid evidence and broke it apart by throwing in a random lost shoe in, I ran downstairs and noticed Sam and Gabe.

Sam wasn’t drunk but Gabe most certainly was. At this point, I was basically sober. Lisa had woken me up enough to set me straight, well decently sober atleast. I looked down and chucked when I saw that Sam was missing one of his shoes and Gabe looked like he had tried to take off some of his clothes but was too lazy to.

Once the party was over, I went back home and couldn’t bring myself to break the news to Dean at the moment. He was simply too happy.

~~~~~~~~~~ Time jump 2 weeks ~~~~~~~~~~

The guilt was killing me, I don’t know what to do... I think I’ll show Dean the video. I’ve gained more and more evidence on Lisa recently. One time was after I finished getting beaten and found her making out with Azazel. Then it was Zacharia, and then Alastair, and soon it was all of my bullies and more. She even joined in once or twice... and I had gotten it all on camera.

“Dean!” I shouted before I could change my mind. He was going to go on a date with Lisa in about half an hour.

“I have something to show you!!!!” I said with more urgency and that got him.

“Coming!” Dean stumbled into the room trying to fix his tie.

“Once I’m done I don’t think you’ll care about that.” I looked at him sadly and pulled out my phone.

“What?” Dean looked at me confused. I threw my phone at him and watched his shocked and pained expression and he looked through it all. His face turned angry once he saw the abuse that she had joined in on. After it had all processed, Dean was crying into my arms apologizing.

“It’s okay. Dean, it’s okay. I’m here. I love you. It’s okay.” I said softly to him as I ran my hands through his hair.

He straightened himself out after a little and looked at me with a determined face.

“I’m going to break up with Lisa.”

~~~~~~~~~~Time jump 1 week~~~~~~~~~~

Dean and I are both working at the diner now. Dean came out as bisexual. I was just as surprised as everyone else. What hurt me most was the fact that he knew for a while now and didn’t bother telling me, his best friend. Not even Sam knew.

“Hey Cas!” Dean said as he eagerly skipped to me.

“Hello Dean.” I looked up at him amused.

“Dinner. 10. Our place. Tonight?” He said nervously.

Was Dean freaking Winchester asking me out? This can’t be, DEAN IS ASKING ME OUT. I stated at him for a good few minutes trying to find the words. I looked at him red in the face.

“YES!” I shouted with glee. I leaped over and pressed my lips up against his.

“I KNEW IT!”

“THATS MY OTP!”

“TEN DOLLARS CARL!”

I laughed as I heard more and more remarks get shouted. Guess it really might be meant to be. Maybe we were the one true pairing.

I know it’s not the best but I just wrote this at 12 am soooo.... I’m going to continue the rest of the story on Wattpad. If this was good enough for you guys great! It’s going to be called : Another Day in Hell (Destiel AU)

#dean winchester #castiel #supernatural #supernatural fandom #supernatural love #supernatural family #writing #fan fic requests #fan fic stuff #fan fic writing #destiel #highschool au

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heckinhacker · 5 years ago

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True Damage!Yasuo x reader - I’m glad you’re evil too.

A/N: I was inspired by Ashe's cover of “I'm glad you're evil too” and I absolutely loved it. Here goes nothing! There might be some errors, I’ve read it many times and can’t find anything anymore, but can happen. Sorry.

word count: 6,311 requested: no. warnings: Cursing, as in most of my posts. Welp~!^^ + It can be messy, I never wrote a long fic and english is being hard for me :(

Yasuo loved music since forever, and knew he was talented himself. Everyone around him praised him if he had shown them his own beats. He was DJ for every school party hosted, even volunteered to be on his own prom night, but everyone said he’s fine to go and party for once.

He didn’t want to party, nor to dance. He wanted to be behind the laughs and screams, making it fun for others. He knew that he wasn’t very social. I mean, he was friendly, sometimes flirty, but social? He prefered reading mangas, watching animes and making music, this was all he wanted.

And that’s how the popular DJ works alone since forever. Loner genius who was out of reach for most of musicians. No one was worthy working with him. One didn’t had enough passion, other just wasn’t it. And he searched for something.

Musical something was found with a rise of “Giants”, or so called “True Damage” group. They had something he searched in music, but why he still felt empty?

Ekko and girls always asked him out: -After-party maybe, Yas? - Akali smiles while bending down a little to make that ‘sneaky-happy’ pose. - As if, I had some beat idea I need to work on, Akali. - he gives her a hand with a motion of ‘stop’ while saying no. And some other time: - Yo, bro, you up for a drink after recording? - Ekko stopped him before he went off for his break. - You can manage without me, Ekko. You have fun anyway. - murmured long haired man, avoiding eye contact. And another after some: - Don’t act all cold and mysterious, ninja, while you’re drooling over some drawn big-eyed girls and come on, you have nothing better to do! - huffed Qiyana, crossing her arms on chest. - Thanks for your not-asked-for opinion, princess. - and he added nothing more. That lasted, and the longer he avoided friendly meetings, Senna tried to talk up: - I’m worried about you, Yasuo. Want to take a walk? - you could feel her concern only by looking her into eyes. That’s kind of her, but... - Thank you, Senna, but you have bigger problems than my own on your head. How is your husband, by the way? - he didn’t meant to be rude, and Senna understood. - Lucian’s fine, he’d appreciate you asking, even though you talked only once. And you’re never a problem, remember. He only waved her away, heading to home, to do his own things. He prefered it that way, or so he thought.

With time, things he enjoyed stopped meaning anything. For example, which hurt him the most: He was so enthusiastic for Star Guardian series, but damn it, he stopped feeling happiness with every single update from mangaka. It hurt. He knew something was off, so he thought he’ll find himself correspondence buddy. Join some group connected to the series, noone will know he’s popular and will chat about Guardians as he’d love someone to and that’s what he did! TheUnforgiven01: hi. TheUnforgiven01: i’ll let myself into convo, if that’s fine. ezpezlemonsquez: That’s what that chat is for, of course! We were just discussing which group was better in many aspects, then compared aspect to the other. TheUnforgiven01: sounds fun, i guess? but it’s obvious ahri team’s better, they had more morality about disappearing, and ahri as the leader took a step of redemption for her stars, nothing to even try to compare to. [nick]: Oh okay. Your opinion is valid but actually is not.

Yasuo raised his brow. Oh, someone’s mad? “Valid”, he’s mad now too.

TheUnforgiven01: and that means? i’m right and you’re not, i suppose. you’re mad abt it? [nick]: Okay, Unforgiven, listen to me now. I am longer in this group and always argued morally about everything, but plain and stupid, unexplained opinions of stubborn kids like you just piss me off. What if someone find staying by rules more morally-right, huh? Ever consider that? TheUnforgiven01: if you’d like to die just because you were chosen by some glitter and glory of first star then fine, but some weren’t, they were normal teenagers under disguise, what about their families? ezpezlemonsquez: Guys, you’re starting to fight and it’s not cool, can you chill?? [nick]: They knew about the risk by agreeing! Being chosen is one, but agreeing is their own fucking choice!!! TheUnforgiven01: and YOU’D be fine with dying, [nick] ? [nick]: Of course not! But anyone can die while saving the world, not because of losing a light, you know? If not that, there is the risk of being corrupted, like Xayah and Rakan, isn’t that right?? TheUnforgiven01: and it hurt, but they can be saved, and by dying officially you cannot do shit about it, yeah? ShiningBrightTonite: If you won’t stop acting up I’ll have to mute you both until tomorrow, keep it down! TU, you just joined and make a fight right away, can you give me a reason to let you stay?

Yasuo’s hands twitched. He ALMOST dissed admin, and that would be it, poof and no corresponding buddy for him. He sighed deeply, took himself some longer moments and only typed. TheUnforgiven01: sorry. i’ll join next discussion and be all innocent and sweet, like newborn baby. [nick]: Newborns are wrinkly and ugly. ShiningBrightTonite: [nick] !! [nick]: Just saying. TheUnforgiven01: aight, ama head out.

~TheUnforgiven01 has left the chat~

That was it for today.

Yasuo just took a quick shower, ate one sandwich and went to sleep, while blasting music on his headphones. Way to deal with his nerves.

About your side…

Generally you’re the angel of this community, you’re always passionate and calm about others opinion, but this dude just pressed the wrong button by his like...third message? No one saw you this mad, and this group had many dramas which YOU were most of the times reason to stop, but now? Some admins laughed about that in admin chatroom with you about it, but let you be with a slight warning, friendly nudge on the arm with ‘don’t do that next time, he’s new and doesn’t know how to hang on things, ya kno?’ So you went with it. Even decided to apolagize to this dude in pm. The question was: today or tomorrow? Tomorrow sound more appealing, but if you do it now, you won’t have to do that tomorrow, so it’s now. You sighed deeply, it’s been an hour and a half, so you hoped he’s cooled down too.

[nick]: Sorry to bother you in your “private message” zone, but I thought about all this situation and I’m sorry for how I acted, really? Not like all fault was mine, we both know that, it’s just...I shouldn’t had curse and stuff. I’m not generally bad, I hope you don’t hold any grudge to me. We’ll chat on a group, ye?

…

And no answer. Maybe he is that furious? You sure hoped he wasn’t. Or she. Or anyone that was. With a heavy sigh you stood up, got yourself warm cup of tea to chill a little bit more. You’ll go to sleep...eventually.

By sleep you mean passing out on your desk, face down. Your poor arms...and back...it’ll hurt, that’s for sure. Watching Netflix till late was a bad idea. Good thing it’s weekend, right? Your day of freedom from responsibilities!

What time is it…?

You locked your eyes on your room’s clock which was 6 minutes late from time but you’re too lazy to fix that. It was - according to your always late clock - 01:06 pm. You still felt sleepy, but it’ll be fine, right? Slowly, you rubbed your wake-up tears from your eyes and looked at screen in front of you. A few pings from group chat from admin role and one private message. Huh, neat, time to eat- hold on, wait a minute. Private message? You sat up straightly and clicked on it right away. This is this unforgiven fella! After you wrote this short message you grinned weakly and went off of your room to wake up properly.

TheUnforgiven01: no problem, it’s nice how you defend what you believe in. TheUnforgiven01: am sorry too. TheUnforgiven01: not sure if i am good at chatting in group, but we always can hit each other up here? TheUnforgiven01: if you want to TheUnforgiven01: and i didn’t mean to sound weird TheUnforgiven01: ah whatever, answer here if you want or not, bye.

You made yourself your favourite breakfast, ate and thought about this little spam that person did. Kinda cute, maybe they’re self-concious, and joining chatting group was overhelming? You’ll answer after refreshing cup of [coffee/tea/hot chocolate], you promised yourself. You never write to anyone before morning cup. To summarize your morning routine, the hot drink had to be in your now favourite cup. Earlier one got shattered into pieces by your unaware of consequences cat. You weren’t mad at it, but at yourself for leaving the cup on windowsill instead of hiding it properly. That kind of sad event for you made you buy this cup from that new music group you enjoyed listening to. True Damage, wasn’t it? You never liked rap, but this boy Ekko nailed stuff. You loved everyone equally in this group, but never understood that long-haired, masked (you assumed) asian man and his influence. He was there, maybe he made the music in the background, compositor? He seemed too mysterious for you, but meh. He fit group’s aesthetic, and you were sure he had his place in there, and it’s fine. Maybe you figure it out once you see them live, since, what a shocker, they had a tour around the world and were not only in your country, but in your town too! They'll be here in like… 6 months from now? You can't wait! Bonus to that: No long trip ahead of you, just buying tickets and going, you were hyped for that.

Meanwhile this waterfall of thoughts you managed to drink and eat everything, and as responsible as you can get, you washed the dishes right away, going back to your PC to answer this maybe-shy fella.

[nick]: Didn’t figured you’d like to talk ‘privately’, but whatever floats your boat ;) TheUnforgiven01: i changed my mind, don’t write to me again. [nick]: Hey, hey! I was just joking around, don’t be like that! :(( TheUnforgiven01: i am unforgiven, and you are too in this situation. TheUnforgiven01: i honestly joined to make one friend in this group and leave TheUnforgiven01: and didn’t got any chance of meeting anyone else but you TheUnforgiven01: and you wrote to me first into priv, so that’s the start. TheUnforgiven01: can it stay like that? TheUnforgiven01: if we won’t like each other it’s chill to just say oficial bye and stop, just sayin. [nick]: As for someone who types so fast you don’t make that much of typos, isn’t that amazing? TheUnforgiven01: maubie. TheUnforgiven01: maybe* TheUnforgiven01: fuck you just jinxed it.

You genuely laughed by this little mistake, you didn’t saw that coming and it amused you. You weren’t much of a talkative person yourself, but writing to someone, not seeing their face and such was much easier. And consequences of making yourself of a fool are much smaller than knowing someone from the same - let’s assume - town. [nick]: I’m sorry I did, but the moment I picked to say that was funny, wasn’t it? Nothing to be ashamed off, it often happens to me too! TheUnforgiven01: didn’t saw you make a typo yet. [nick]: Because I’m giving way too much attention not to do a typo since I want to make a good impression on you. Sounds good? TheUnforgiven01: … TheUnforgiven01: sounds good, relatable actually.

Well, now at least you know you’re stuck in the same situation.

And that awkward situation was two weeks ago.

Now? Now you’re talking daily. From all you know, your, as he called it - corresponding buddy - is a very busy he. He didn’t revealed his real name, which you assumed that he’s embarassed about it. You told him what you’re doing in life generally, while he just said he’s normal, let me quote: “big-ass adult who lives with parents but work in some fast-food, at least i’m trying.” which was cool for you, at least he didn’t lock himself in his parents’ basement. Unforgiven was a chill dude and at the beginning you thought he’d only hit you up with Star Guardian topics, but later? You started talking about yourselves, about other interests.

[nick]: Hey? [nick]: I assume you’re busy today, again… [nick]: I was wondering, what are you busy with? I mean, you said you work on some fast-food place, then sit in your room, are you gaming? I’d understand that, I was just...thinking. [nick]: Sorry if I seem pushy, it’s just that I really grew on chatting with you and was wondering when are you free again! Heh. [nick]: We’ll talk later, then, hit me up when you can!

You pushed yourself back on your chair, groaning. You totally were pushy, but didn’t meant to - that’s what you thought, but it’s totally normal, you’re just interested with someone you just met. You chatted with a lot of persons in the group, etc. but no one had your interest pointed directly at them, that’s a big something. You kinda felt like you’re opening too fast for him too, and you had no clue if that’s ok. You cover your eyes with hands, overthinking your situation with unnamed male. When your thoughts started to be not too pleasant you heard your communicator's sound going off. As fast as you pushed yourself back, you were that fast in front of your PC.

TheUnforgiven01: i have a break now. TheUnforgiven01: i'm sorry [nick], I am not ignoring you on purpose. TheUnforgiven01: i enjoy talking to you too, don't ever think oterwide TheUnforgiven01: otherwise* TheUnforgiven01: we'll talk about that later. TheUnforgiven01: now, how are you? i hope i didn't made you sad. [nick]: No, no! It's OK! I understand you have a real life too, I assume a real life friends too. That's normal, that's okay. TheUnforgiven01: i like you. i can consider you as my friend, but. [nick]: But? TheUnforgiven01: but you should not consider me as yours. [nick]: What t? Why?/?? / TheUnforgiven01: my break's over, i gtg. i'll catch you later. [nick]: Okay, later!

Your hands twitched uncontrollably after that weird message. What did he mean? You're his friend but he's not yours? It kinda worried you, but you went to do your stuff until he has time to talk. Maybe it sounds cliché but you wait impatiently until he starts a chat with you and you know each other for only two weeks.

It made you worry about your friend. Maybe he has some troubles you don't know about for sure? You only had to hope it's not gang involved. You were sure to later tell a few words to him.

You ate out with one of your friends, just to eat, chill around. As you weren't sure what to do generally about "unforgiven situation", you decided to ask her: - Uh, it's kinda awkward, but can I ask you for advice? - you ask. - Oh of course! What's going inside of your pretty little head? - So I met someone on my group- - Nerd group? - she interrupted. - Yeah, that one. - you admitted with defeat. Honestly, no matter what you say, she still keeps on going with nerd club. - And there was that guy, he started arguing with me. Later we apologized to each other and now we're chatting for two weeks everyday, but about how much do we write depends if he's free or not. Today he said something odd, have a look.

You moved your phone so your friend can see mysterious message from Unforgiven. She sighed and then looked at you with that pity look of hers. - What? - Honey, swettie… you have two options. One: he's really trying to make you think of him. Two: he really means it. You should start off with "I'm worried about you!" and tell him how you really feel. - Okay. Okay… I just. I don't know what's going on with him. - Why are you so moved of that? You know each other for only two weeks. Are you… Crushing on him?!?! - WHAT? Nonononono, you got that wrong, I just want to get to know him! That's all, really! - Uh-huh! When he's free today, you get him, tiger! Just won't get into any trouble, sweetheart.

You sighed, then smiled at her, closing your eyes in satisfaction. You're a lot calmer now. "Thank you, [friends name].” You said, until you both went back on chatting about everything.

And when you were back? You dressed yourself to home wearing, sat down comfortably on the couch and checked your phone. Unforgiven actually wrote to you first! And a lot.

TheUnforgiven01: hey. TheUnforgiven01: sorry I had to go all of sudden, work stuff, had shorter break. TheUnforgiven01: i don’t want you to think i don't want to get to know you, i do. TheUnforgiven01: it's just hard for me, ‘n stuff. TheUnforgiven01: we'll get to it, please give me some time. TheUnforgiven01: you'll know everything about me in no time, just give me some and we'll be friends, true ones. TheUnforgiven01: if you'd want to, ofc. TheUnforgiven01: hit me up when you're back from your little date.

You gave into every single message a lot of focus. You weren't sure what to say at first, but decided to just go for it.

[nick]: It's OK! I was worried about you, but if you say I'll get to know all the things about you in time, I'll go with it! But remember this one thing: I consider you as my friend, no matter what. We'll get through your insecurities and secrets, I'll be patiently waiting!

[nick]: And it was NOT a DATE. I was out with my friend!! >:( TheUnforgiven01: yeah, sure, you playa. TheUnforgiven01: better be good. [nick]: Very funny! TheUnforgiven01: for me it is. [nick]: Aren't you tired after work? You don't want to sleep? TheUnforgiven01: i thought you genuinely missed me, buy you want me out right now. TheUnforgiven01: now i'm sad. [nick]: It's not like that! I'm just worried about you, goofball. TheUnforgiven01: sure, explain yourself even more. TheUnforgiven01: only guilty explain themselves. [nick]: Come on!! D: TheUnforgiven01: i can chat for a bit and then go.

You chatted and chatted, slowly getting to know his character, but he still remained as Unforgiven, unnamed boy you slowly, but in agony, fell for. It's been three months from your first encounter.

You wonder how are you going to ask him about a next step in your friendship. It is, indeed, hard. Good question is why are you the first to ask? It almost hurt imagining yourself with blank space, nor even voice known to begin with. You fell hard for dude you only know behind Unforgiven, and wanted to hear his voice. You were ready for him to decline, but you won't know without trying.

He said he'll be back pretty late today, and he may not write, but he left you a warning pretty early in the morning. You weren't sure why did he woke up so early, but you just shrugged it, saying that he must be in some other time zone. You didn't even knew where he is from, this man is a big mystery for you.

You waited for him to come back in your bed, before sleeping. You had to ask that question now or never, you know if you'll put it for tomorrow you want do that anytime soon. It has to be done. It was 2am now and your eyelids were getting heavy. Reading books or literally anything wasn't helping at all, and when your body demands rest. You almost drifted to sleep, but then

Ding!

It was him, before sleep you assumed. No matter what you did you always wrote to each other, even stupid "goodnight for later, I'm going to sleep now, be sure to rest enough." was there.

Your eyes were wide open and you moved your hand to the phone way too fast as for almost sleeping person.

TheUnforgiven01: hey. TheUnforgiven01: i'm aftwr work TheUnforgiven01: i am really tires ya kno TheUnforgiven01: fuck typos in lsrticilar [nick]: Particular? TheUnforgiven01: you're not asleep yet? damn [nick]: I was kinda waiting for you, you know? TheUnforgiven01: oh really? what's the occasion? [nick]: It's… I have a question for you. TheUnforgiven01: aight, give me your shot. [nick]: Would you like to… agh it's stupid. TheUnforgiven01: no, go ahead. [nick]: We write with each other for a while now and I was wondering if… [nick]: If you'd like to make a phone call, maybe? Or, voice call, anything really? No personal questions, just five minute chatting about anything. Promise?

Yasuo hesitated for a longer bit. Should he agree? He don't use his voice in his recordings, so maybe he should? He treats this person like someone close, so why should he avoid them like a plague? He saw little mark above chat window which suggested you furiously were typing. He sighed, smiling softly to his phone's screen.

TheUnforgiven01: it's alright,don't worry. TheUnforgiven01: we can chat a bit. TheUnforgiven01: we can call here, you know. for you to avoid any additional payment.

You sigh with relief. Okay, he did agree. What now?? Holy shit. You were more than nervous. You didn't saw that coming and because of all of this you forgot to answer him. You almost jumped when you got another message.

TheUnforgiven01: i'll call first, since i see you're nervous. TheUnforgiven01: i'll hit you up in 5 min. answer me by then.

It maybe was stupid, but you checked yourself in the mirror, almost like before date. You fixed your hair, checked if nothing was stuck between your teeth, wash your face, and your time slipped between your fingers, your phone was ringing with typical for your communicator song. You jumped, then panicked, then jumped beside your phone and slowly answered your call before it ended sending a signal.

- H...hello? - your voice croaked out of nervousness. You mentally slapped your forehead, classical facepalm. - Hi. - you heard calm voice with that tune of tiredness, that little growl at the end. His voice was soft, warm, pleasant. You smiled right away. - Damn, you sound so chilled out while I am...wow. I am a blushing mess right now, I wanted this but don’t know what to say to you! Like, wow! - Maybe start with how was your day? I’d love to hear that. - that was just an excuse, but you didn’t knew that. - Oh...kay. It was fine. Boring, to be honest. Woke up, drank [tea/coffee/hot chocolate] from this True Damage cup I once told you about, went out, made my boring everyday routine, was thinking how I should ask you about talking, then went back home, bored my ass off on some documentaries and here we are, talking! - Sounds fun. - he commented shortly. Even if it might sound like he doesn’t care, you understood that he just was like that. That stupid feeling. - Maybe you’ll tell me something you did today? - Something I’d love to do, but I must avoid that. Not today, [nick]. - Call me [y/n], okay? That’s my real name. You don’t have to tell me yours! I’d like you to call me [y/n] though. - That’s a nice name. Like the sound of it. - his goddamn voice will be the end of yours. You sighed loudly with this goofy smile. - Thank you so much. So, if not the day, tell me something you actually can share. - I was thinking about you today. - he shot these words right through your heart. - O-Oh? Re-really? - you stuttered, hating yourself for that. - Heheh, yeah. - he chuckled, making you forget about hating your stutter since it made him laugh in this tone. This goddamn tone. - Was thinking if you were alright. And because your pathetic ass was distracting me from work, my boss forced me to go on break! Used it to smoke, but none then less, thanks. - Hey, your bad for wandering off in work! And quit smoking, dumbass! - you scolded him, ending this “”very serious”” scold with a laugh, which Yasuo answered with louder, honest laugh. You were all red by now. - God, it’s good talking to you. Let’s do that more often. Not every day, but...you know. More often. - O-okay. Okay, sure. Cool. - you answered,trying to kill this little squeal in your throat. - I’ll have to go to sleep, [y/n]. Sleep well, ok? - No promise, but you have a rest. Thank you, again. For agreeing. - Heh. No problem, I am glad I did agree too. Sleep tight. - another chuckle, then hanging up sound.

Well, what can I say. This was the most emotion-forcing call you ever had. He wished you good night, you had trouble falling asleep.

Generally speaking, you had a talk like that once in three days. The big day of concert was coming, so you decided to ask Unforgiven if he is interested in coming too. You’re searching for a chance of meeting him in real life.

Yasuo expected from incoming call anything but question what was awaiting him. He was having a flight with a band to [town’s name] in next three days, so he had to tell you he can��t really talk as you both always do. When he heard a communicator’s song, he pressed answer button right away, smiling to his phone like you could see he’s happy to see you. - Hewwo? - he answered in very forced squeaky voice, which made you erupt with laughter. - Hey, goofball. How was your day? - Lazy. Was distracted a lot, I was waiting for out call before sleep. So, what’s new? - Today was okay’ish, you know? I’m not even that tired. Maybe being excited makes me go cray-cray. - Psh, good. - he looked at himself in the mirror, seeing how wide his smile was. Almost concerning. - Hey, dude? - Hm? - Are you...by any chance, going to see True Damage in [Town’s name]? I never asked you about your music taste but I was wondering. Wondering that if you’d be here...maybe we’ll meet? ‘Cuz, you know. I’ll be here. - I- - his voice was stuck in his throat. Oh. Shit. Fuckfuckfuck. Not good. What now? -...you? Are you okay? - Ahm- yes, it’s just that. You’re...hella right. I will be there. - OH REALLY? - you asked unecessarly too loud, then cleared your throat. - A-and...you’d like to meet? - Uhhh… - fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck - Yeah. Sure. I’d love to finally see you. Can you imagine this feeling? We don’t know how we look, so finding each other would be insane, but can you imagine the result? - Me, asking some random dudes “Hey, are you Unforgiven?” ? No, let’s send each other selfies, maybe? - Nah, I’d love to see you embarrass yourself. - HEY! - Okay, okay. I promise we’ll find each other. I won’t go home until we do. - Promise you won’t leave me out? - Promise. - Thank you. I’ll go to sleep, so we’ll catch up later, ok? By- he cut you out. - Wait, [y/n]. I have to tell you something real quick. - Yeah? - you pulled your phone back to ear. - I won’t be too available around these days. But at the day of concert I’ll call you in the morning. I won’t be in any reach of connection, I hope you understand. - Uh..okay. Thank you for telling me. Good night, sleep tight. - ‘Night.

You hung up. It’s alright, it’s ok. Nothing to sweat. You’ll only meet your crush in three days only.

OKAY NEVERMIND IT IS AMAZING. You - thankfully - fell asleep pretty fastly.

To be fair, these three days? Were going through slow in agonizing way, but when the day of concert hit up, your heart was racing since you woke up. You had that five minute talk with Unforgiven, as he promised, assuring you that he is going to be there for sure. After you hung up, you started preparing yourself! You wore your best clothes, made sure you look stunning but not too overrated and just dived into it! You gladly told your friend you’re meeting your crush, informing her with that she’s not forced to go see True Damage with you anymore. She was more of Pentakill person, and it was alright. She wanted to go along since she knew how “un-funny” would it be without her, but you knew her real motive was you not feeling alone. So when she acknowledged that you’re not going to be alone, she said she’s glad she doesn’t have to listen to Ekko and Qiyana’s rapping. Well, good noone is forced.

At first,you wanted to find Unforgiven right away, but gave up and focused on music experience. You wanted to be there beside him, but well, maybe he lost connection again and couldn’t hit you up. And you had hell of a fun in there! But somewhere deep inside you were worried that he just tricked you and will never show up or tell you where he is exactly.

True Damage’s crew said final goodbyes and after some stumbles, it was quiet on stage. Everyone kept cheering or talking, sometimes screaming unecessarly. Still, not a single sight of Unforgiven. Well, at least you got to know what this long haired guy was doing in the crew. Epic T-pose and manipulated music with this sword looking thingy. Amazing effects. You decided to find yourself sitting place somewhere, staring at your phone screen. No message, no missed calls, not anything. It made you sad, that’s true, but maybe he’ll catch up? You waited. And waited.

And waited.

And the more you waited, the more you felt tears getting into your eyes. You were ready to burst into sobbing mess, but then your phone rang. This stupid communicator song. You answered up right away with little sniff” - Where the hell are you? You said that- - I know, [y/n]. I am here, let me instruct you where I am right now. Where are you? - You should be one searching for me, you know? I almost thought you weren’t coming, what’s up with that? - you unintentionally raised your voice, letting out a sob meanwhile that. Yasuo felt so bad now. - Listen...I’ll tell you everything. Everything will be explained when you’ll see me. I hope you’ll forgive me. If not, it’ll be this “official goodbye” moment, can you trust me this one last time? - ...fuck. Fuck, okay. I am on the bench close to food truck. You? - Stand up then, go to the barriers understage. - Understage…? Alrigt, wh-atever you say.

You blindly went in there, trusting this man “for the last time”, as he said. You’d give him the last chance he’s begging for. You stood here like an idiot, alone with stages lights shining on your face. No one in sight. - I hope you’re not joking… - How would I know where should you go then? - Point...it’s just that- - Shh. It’s ok. You head to the left now if you’re facing the stage. Tell me when you’re done. - … done…? - Okay. now open this little metal gate and get through. - Wha-what?? Why would I? Securities will kick me out if they find out! - They won’t. It’s ok. -You’re...one of the security guards, right? - Information when you get there. come on in. - You were so anxious about this situation. It just seems sketchy. He never revealed any information about him, maybe spread some lies you believed in. Who was this dude now? Was everything you knew a lie? - And? I don’t see anyone. - Are you wearing [your fav. hoodie/flannel/whatever you want it to be!]? - U-uh? Yeah, and you’re…? - Turn around, goof. I am standing right there. - … - you felt your heart stop, you weren’t able to breathe. You slowly turned around to see noone else than this mysterious japanese DJ you had a chance to see on stage. What- how- that were questions which were going almost like on loop in your head. - Stunned, huh? - he commented into the phone, then took it off of his face and ended call. It confirmed that it was him too - at the same time his phone went dark after single tap, your call ended.

You didn’t even got to give out bigger reaction. You just met him! Screw that he’s popular and hid his identity from you! For now. You ran into his arms and squeezed him, now sobbing like mad.

- You FUCKER! You could’ve said ANYTHING! All these secrets, what for! I kinda understand but- FUCK! - you shouted into his shoulder while he squeezed you in almost bone crushing hug. - I’m sorry, ok? - and it was his voice, sounded almost the same. Holy shit. - I’m so, so sorry, [y/n]. But at least I can be honest? - Then please be. Tell me everything you wanted to say. - It’ll be long, trust me, but well. Here goes nothing. - he put his hand on your cheek and clears your face from those tears you shed because of him. - I...wanted to tell you my name after like two weeks. I got worried you’ll find out after we talk some, so I did avoid personal information. While I was at it, I never wanted to lie. About my work and my day. I just lied at the beginning, then regret it deeply, but felt like I couldn’t take that back. [y/n]- fuck- I just- I didn’t wanted to be treated differently. I am popular and most people stop seeing a human in me because I’m a celebrity! It hurt me to avoid you getting to know me - heck, it hurt me to see you avoiding asking me about personal stuff because you understood. I appreciated it, but it hurt you had to remain silent while you were curious as hell, I assume. You wanted to hear me out, treated me like I am just like you, reached out to me. I grew on that, I want… I don't want to lose you. Please, forgive me. - I… it's… it's okay. I should call you… - Yasuo. It's Yasuo, [y/n]. - I'll get to know you all over, just be honest with me. You're still human and I want to be close to you. I… ah. I'll just let it out pleasedon'thateme. I… fell for you. Hard. You were a bug mystery for me but still wanted to be around me. I kept still since you're pretty important to me. Thank you for being there by this 6 months, let's continue whatever we have between each other. Please.

…

Yasuo moved his mask down to capture your face between his hands and kissed you, it seemed like a rough start, but kiss was soft, magical. You just smoothed, nibbling on your lips. Yasuo was now thanking you a lot, which you only replied with weak laughs and pats on his back. He promised he'll keep you as close as he can.

Yasuo had to continue his tour around the world with True Damage, but promised he'll take a lot of day off so he can work up lost time with you. It's been a month and you wait for him almost like wife waiting for her husband's return after military duty.

Yasuo took two weeks off, but if he'll need more - it'll be for you to decide. You were spending today inside since it was raining. It was dark outside already, the only source of light was candles in living room. Yasuo was holding you close to himself, moving side to side, swaying gently, adoring your every inch of face. - Lately I found this song on youtube, it was originally from vocaloid.it kind off remind me of us. - Vocaloid song? You know true meaning of lyrics for sure, tell me about it then! - I can sing a part of it for you, if you'd want to? - You can sing? - Of course! I just don't use it for my songs. Everyone else sing much better, my voice is too… - Too sexy for the world? - Hahaha, maybe! Want to check out for sure? I'll sing in English for you. - Sheesh, what a nerd. Okay, give me your best shot.

Yasuo took a deep breath in, and made sure before he starts to sing he looks into your eyes. He started like he was unsure, but with time he sang wholeheartedly.

"Though both of us will die one day

Though this life is useless anyway

When you're here by my side, you make me feel like it'll be okay

And yet we laughed despite it all

At this life which has no meaning at all

Two lonely and broken souls leaning on each other's sides

I'm glad that you're you, that I'm me, and for us two

I'm kinda glad that you're evil too"

While he was pouring his emotion on you, you felt your chest clench and tear up after intensity of his voice, he gave it out truly like he meant it. You saw he wasn't done, so you tried to remain calm.

"When the day starts anew, hope I spend it with you-"

You felt your cheeks burn with your tears pouring down whole you smiled widely at him. He was singing loudly, forgetting about embarrassment.

"I'm glad that I fell in love with you."

From today, this song made by PinnocchioP was more than important for both of you. It felt like it was especially made for you, and you both loved it.

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