#renjun scenario

[cafelattaes]

beat you at your own game | hrj

summary: y/n has a crush on renjun, who's not that great with people. despite his standoffish nature, she makes an effort to be friendly. but things take a twist when she starts to ignore him.

pairing: renjun x fem!reader

genre: college au, fluff, angst

word count: 3.5k

huang renjun, how exactly would you describe him? well, for starters, he can be a bit cranky. he's all about having his own space, not a fan of dragging things out, and gets things done in a flash. he’s also straightforward and not afraid to speak his mind. people have mixed feelings about him because of it. but oddly enough, it only adds to his charm, making people naturally drawn to him, much to his 'i'd-rather-not' demeanor.

needless to say, you just had to develop a crush on someone who’s the total opposite of you. you’re a people-pleaser; you’d much rather say things that would please others than express your genuine thoughts. confrontations make you uncomfortable, and you lean towards making excuses for those who hurt you on purpose. you also always try to avoid conflicts as much as you can and resort to suffering in silence instead. you're trying to change these aspects of yourself, but since you grew up having these traits, breaking free can be a bit hard. still, you're working on it.

you never intended to let renjun know about your feelings, but your friends were determined to embarrass you whenever he was around, constantly teasing you. it didn't help that despite not being close to renjun and his group, some of them were friends with your close friends, so they eventually joined in poking fun at your crush. one day, you decided to dismiss their incessant teasing and initiated a friendly conversation with renjun. at first, he responded out of courtesy. you weren't stupid though; you could tell that renjun was clearly fed up with his friends and wanted nothing to do with their antics.

he began to dislike being associated with you, offering only short responses and not acknowledging your presence more than necessary. you didn’t pay it much mind, since getting close to him wasn't your original goal. your aim was to ease the awkwardness and shed the embarrassment that accompanied your interactions. you happened to share some classes with renjun, coincidentally, those were the ones where both your friends weren't around. sitting next to him became a default habit, as he was the only familiar face in those particular classes.

one morning, you found yourself running late for your 8am class, prompting you to dash before your professor arrived. you accidentally collided with renjun, who happened to be holding an iced coffee. to your horror, more than half of the drink ended up spilling onto his shirt.

“oh my god, renjun, i’m so sorry!” you looked at him in fear, and it took everything in him to remain calm.

“why are you running around a busy hallway?”

“i’m really, really sorry. i’m late for my first class and i didn’t think i’d bump into anyone.” renjun let out an annoyed sigh.

“whatever.”

“wait!” you started rummaging through your bag to bring out some alcohol and wipes. “do you need them?”

“no, thank you.” he tried to walk past you, but you caught his arm.

“what about the stain?”

“i have a spare shirt. can you let me go now? i thought you said you were late.”

“shoot, you’re right. i’m sorry again, i promise i’ll make it up to you!” you shouted as you ran.

“please don’t,” he grumbled.

later on, you found renjun at the library working on your assignments. you sat quietly next to him and began doing your own. he didn’t spare you a look and just carried on with his work. you spent a few hours completing them, and both of you got it done at the same time. as you got up to gather your things, you spoke to the boy beside you.

“renjun, do you have anything to do after this?”

“no.”

“there’s this new diner that just opened up nearby. do you want to check it out? my friends have prior commitments, and i wanted to make it up to you for spilling your coffee earlier.” you already knew he was going to refuse, but it wouldn’t hurt to still ask.

“sorry, i’ll have to pass. i need to get home quickly.” you nodded in understanding and smiled at him.

“no biggie. take care on your way home!”

“thanks,” he simply said before leaving.

“so, what's the deal with you and y/n?" jaemin asked in a teasing tone. "any progress? are you going out already?” renjun scowled.

“shut up. i want her to back off, honestly.”

“you want everyone to back off.” jaemin pointed out.

“yeah, but most especially y/n.”

jaemin's eyebrows knitted together. “uh, why do you sound so annoyed with her?”

“because she's annoying. i turned her down multiple times, but she can’t take a hint. nothing’s worse than someone who forces themselves on others.”

“relax, man. aren't you being a bit harsh? you’ll see that she’s nice if you give her a chance.”

“what exactly is nice about her being fixated on me? this is mostly your fault, you know. if you guys weren’t such busybodies, she wouldn’t be so pushy.”

you quietly slipped away, making sure they hadn't noticed you. a single tear rolled down your cheek before you could stop it. it wasn't every day you heard someone openly express their dislike for you, and coming from the person you were supposed to like, it stung even more. you never meant to force yourself into renjun's space or push for a connection that clearly wasn't there. maybe it was time to face reality and let go of your feelings for him. it would be better for both of you in the long run to avoid any more awkward moments and misunderstandings.

renjun had grown accustomed to spotting you in your regular seat during your shared class. however, he was met with surprise when he noticed you had moved to a vacant seat considerably distant from your usual spot next to him. he was a bit confused at first, but chose not to dwell on it. he also noted that you didn't notice his entrance into the room, as you were engrossed in some task.

you continued to maintain a distance in your next classes with renjun. he was uncertain if you were oblivious to his presence or deliberately avoiding acknowledgement, given the lack of glances his way. he found it a bit strange that you refrained from initiating any form of interaction, but he didn’t mind. he thought he felt better. at least, for now.

however, renjun was not expecting your odd behavior to persist. it brought another surprise when you ignored him again the following day. even when your eyes accidentally locked for a second, you quickly averted your gaze. renjun wasn’t sure if you really didn’t see him or were just pretending not to. you weren’t wearing your glasses, and your eyesight wasn't the best. but even if you did ignore him on purpose, he didn’t mind… or did he?

it’s been a while since you stopped talking to renjun. at first, he thought he felt a sense of relief, thinking it gave him some space. but after a week, he was confused about why you suddenly stopped. the following week, he could feel his stomach churning seeing you leave class, secretly hoping you’d look back. then, the week after that, he felt a wave of anger because there were more than a few times he bumped into you purposely to get you to talk to him, but you did not utter any word other than a quiet apology. now, nearly a month later, he started to feel dejected because no matter what he did, you always acted like he wasn't even there. renjun wasn’t sure what he did wrong to make you so determined in avoiding him completely.

“renjun’s going through 5 stages of grief,” jaemin said with a smirk.

“what are you talking about?” haechan looked at him in confusion.

“y/n’s been ignoring him for a month.”

“WHAT? WHY?” jaemin shrugged.

“no idea. we’re not close enough for me to ask.”

“what about jeno?”

“he doesn’t want to pry.”

“maybe she got tired of renjun’s grumpy attitude,” chenle piped up.

“could be,” jaemin turned to the boy in question. “look at him, he’s miserable.”

“shut up,” renjun muttered in discontent.

“stop provoking him. it’s his first heartbreak,” chenle taunted, making renjun roll his eyes at their ridiculousness.

“you know you could just talk to her right? ask what’s going on?”

“if she wanted to talk, she would’ve reached out to me by now,” renjun said flatly. his friends could only shake their heads in disapproval.

“don’t be stupid.”

“and i’m begging all of you to mind your own business.”

“if you keep this up, you’ll end up in a situation you can’t fix.”

haechan nodded vigorously. “yeah, don't say we didn't warn you!”

you kept quiet about what you had overheard from renjun in the last month, choosing not to share the details with your friends. you figured they would eventually notice renjun's absence from your life, and when they finally asked you about it, you dismissed their probing questions. you casually informed them that your crush on him had simply faded after getting to know him better. you were quite good at making believable lies, they were convinced by it and dropped the topic quickly.

unexpectedly, renjun sought you out in an empty classroom to confront you about your sudden disconnection. you looked like a deer caught in headlights when you realized who had just entered, walking in long and quick strides to your direction. in your mind, you were already conjuring up excuses to explain yourself.

“why are you ignoring me?” his question broke the silence, leaving you with no room to escape.

so much for attempting to evade this confrontation.

you took a moment to gather your thoughts, unsure how to respond. you tried to conceal your distress as renjun stared down at you while waiting for you to talk. it seemed like he was determined to stand his ground, expecting you to tell him the truth. with a frustrated sigh, you finally spoke up.

“i’m just staying out of your way,” you said after a moment of silence.

“yeah, so why?” his voice was demanding, it ticked you off a little.

you questioned why you were initially afraid of renjun confronting you and why you bothered coming up with excuses. after all, it wasn't his place to interrogate you when you were simply doing what he seemed to want from the start.

“i don’t know why you’re asking. isn’t that what you want? you should be happy.” you began to gather your things so you can leave, but you heard him speak again.

“i never told you to avoid me. if you have a problem with me, just say it.”

“you're right, you never told me directly. you just told other people.”

“what are you talking about?” you turned to face him.

“renjun, i don’t get you. you push me away, you're openly annoyed by me, and you tell everyone you want me gone. now that i’m doing exactly that, you’re still upset with me? what’s your problem?”

renjun ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. “stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what's going on."

“fine. last month, i was passing by the library and i overheard you talking to your friends. you were complaining about how i couldn't take a hint and how you wanted me to leave you alone.” renjun looked a bit puzzled at first. when you were about to walk away, his eyes widened in realization.

“no, y/n, i’m so sorry. i didn't really mean what i-“ you shook your head lightly.

“don’t be. you were completely right, and i’m not even angry about it. i just don’t want to do anything with you anymore.”

“please, listen," renjun said, his voice urgent. "i blurted out those things in the heat of the moment. i regret it, especially now that i know you heard what i said… it's just- it’s not how i really feel about you."

“it’s okay, renjun. i didn’t tell you all of this to get an apology. i’m only telling you why i’m doing what i’m doing, like you asked, and to make it clear that i’m done.” as you turned to leave, renjun stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

“hear me out, alright? i was being overly sensitive back then. my friends were pushing my buttons, and i didn't know how to handle it so i lashed out. i treated you unfairly and you didn’t deserve any of that. a month without you made me realize a few things. i had to confront what i really want and face some truths i'd been avoiding."

he paused, studying your face before continuing. “i miss spending time with you, y/n. and... well, i realized i've got feelings for you, more than i thought. it never crossed my mind that you'd actually distance yourself and it hit me hard. the idea of losing you if you choose to walk away made me lose my mind.”

your heart raced as he spoke, and his confession stirred up a mix of emotions. your confusion lingered, but you decided to reason through it, pushing aside the sincerity in his eyes as you gave him a skeptical look.

“are you… getting your feelings confused with something else? did you consider that maybe your mind is playing tricks on you and making you think you like me because you're used to others chasing after you?”

renjun winced, trying to ignore the implied criticism. it was a struggle for him to open up about his feelings, only for the girl he liked to question it and suggest that he couldn't understand his own emotions.

“i wouldn't be here asking why you've been avoiding me and opening up like this if i hadn't thought it through." he said quietly. "it might be hard to believe right now, but if you give me a chance, i can prove it to you."

“i don’t think this is a good idea,” you said, watching his face fall. he felt lost, trying to find the right words to convince you. taking a deep breath, he gently placed his hands on your shoulders, meeting your eyes.

“please, just give me a chance to make things right. i feel like i've wasted so much time.�� the desperation in his voice was clear. still skeptical, you removed his hands as they fell down to your arms.

“i’ll think about it,” you said, turning to walk away, leaving a lingering sense of uncertainty in the air.

renjun’s friends had been observing him for a few days, and he’s become unusually quiet. they contemplated asking him what’s wrong, but they wanted to give him some space. it was glaringly obvious that something was bothering him, and he didn’t want to talk about it. jeno couldn't help but express his concern.

"renjun, you've been awfully quiet lately. everything alright?"

"yeah, i'm fine. just dealing with some stuff." jeno and jaemin exchanged knowing glances.

"we're here whenever you're ready to talk." jaemin assured, patting his back.

he had been feeling down since your conversation days ago. your words had been weighing on his mind and creating an internal turmoil. the fact that you continued to ignored him in all your classes didn't offer much comfort. renjun couldn't help but cast a longing look in your direction whenever he saw you. he wondered if there was a way to make things right, or if he had to live with the consequences of his past actions.

meanwhile, his confession has been replaying in your mind. the idea of him reciprocating your feelings caught you off guard; it was something you never saw coming. after some contemplation, it became apparent to you that renjun really felt apologetic and was filled with remorse. could it be that he genuinely likes you? even if that was the case, you're still unsure whether it's the right move to start something with him.

maybe i should stop overthinking this.

you took a deep breath before releasing a loud sigh, unaware that the boy who had been occupying your thoughts, stood right in front of you.

“y/n,” you looked up to see renjun. you waited for him to speak, but it seemed like he was having a mental struggle, debating whether to say what was on his mind. he mustered up the courage to ask if you were willing to give him a chance. staring at him with an unreadable expression, he didn't know how to interpret the situation. was it a bad time to talk?

“why?” you finally asked. although renjun was hesitant, he answered.

“i was wondering if you already thought about what i said? i mean… i can wait if you need more time.”

“if i say no, are you going to leave me alone?” your heart sank a little when his face fell.

he took a moment before responding. his voice barely above a whisper. “if that’s what you want... i guess i would have to."

���renjun,” you said, causing him to look up.

“yeah?”

“let’s give it a try.” his expression became hopeful.

“really?”

“yes," you nodded. "you said you liked me back, i'm choosing to believe that for now. just... don't let me down."

“i won’t," he promised, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

before you could react, renjun pulled you into a warm embrace. you found yourself returning the hug, allowing yourself to relax in his arms.

"thank you for giving me a chance," he murmured, his words muffled against your hair but filled with sincerity.

“i’m happy for them, really," giselle said, eyeing you and renjun across the room. "but watching those two make heart eyes at each other is sickening."

chenle snorted. "this is nothing. you should see renjun at the dorm."

the group's attention snapped to him. "oh?" karina prompted.

“let's just say personal space is not in his vocabulary anymore."

“huh… i would've expected y/n to be the clingy one."

“yeah, no. but i guess it makes sense, considering how he acted before."

giselle and karina exchanged amused glances, intrigued by the dynamic between you and renjun.

"amazing what a change of heart can do," jaemin mused.

karina nodded, a hint of approval in her voice. "guess he learned his lesson."

the group watched you and renjun for a moment longer, a mix of amusement and fondness in their expressions. it was clear that renjun had undergone a significant change in the way he acts toward you, transforming his initial aloofness to this new, affectionate version of himself.

“i have the dorm to myself this weekend.” renjun said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

you raised an eyebrow. “and what exactly are you suggesting?”

“you know…” he trailed off, his look suggestive.

“i’m studying for finals," you replied flatly.

“exactly. i find myself more productive when i’m with you.”

“right. because we get so much done when we study together."

“don't you want my hugs and kisses?” he pouted.

“not when i’m trying to pass my classes.”

“i'll behave, i promise.”

“you always say that. i don’t believe you anymore.” renjun's pout deepened. cute.

“maybe i wouldn't be so clingy if you paid more attention to me. you’re always busy, you don’t have time for your boyfriend.”

“renjun, unlike you, i have to put in extra effort to get good grades. i’m not as smart as you are.”

“excuses.” he mumbled.

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help smiling. “you’re so adorable,” you cooed, giving him a quick peck. “i never imagined you to be the clingy type.”

“baby, there's a lot of things you don’t know about me.” he said, his voice lowering.

“oh? like what?”

he leaned in close. “like how great i am with my hands."

your eyebrows shot up. "is that so?"

“yeah. apparently, i give one heck of a shoulder massage,” he finished with a grin.

you burst out laughing at his endearing silliness. the sound of your laughter made renjun pause. he watched you, a soft smile spreading across his face. suddenly, he felt an overwhelming surge of happiness. taking your hand gently in his, he pressed a kiss to your fingertips, capturing your attention and prompting you to look at him.

"you make me feel the happiest," he said softly. "i love you."

your heart skipped a beat, the euphoria of hearing those three words from him for the first time washing over you. it hit you then - this unexpected journey with renjun had led you somewhere you never imagined. he, too, held the key to your happiness.

“i love you too," you whispered back.

you closed the distance between you two and your lips met his. as he wrapped an arm around your waist, you let yourself fall to his embrace, deepening the kiss.

renjun was met with the realization that while you fell for him first, he descended later, but with an intensity that surpassed a thousand falls.

[rrxnjun]

blondes are done with fun ✲ h. renjun

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

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

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

✲ PART 1 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is not how you imagined your morning to go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We can figure that out later.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

“I’m being difficult?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t-”

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

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

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

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

…and the old Renjun is back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know what? Yeah. Valid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! Don’t run away, oh god-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you get one, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyuck, your eyes are brown.”

“Okay and?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, thank you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah! Hello!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about your friends–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it because of Yunjin?” 

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

“No, it– it’s not that, I– I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello!”

“Hi,” you breathe out.

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you want the latest one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why would you think that?”

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

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

“Do you even like anything?”

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

“I like spring too, actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jun! You’ll get cold,” you pout.

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

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

Or maybe you won’t.

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

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

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

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

“And if I did?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it look good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your words fail you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, I–” 

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

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

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

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

“It’s just…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[niki-phoria]

YOU ARE IN LOVE, TRUE LOVE

pairing: renjun x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 232

includes: established relationship, reader can cook

renjun has never felt like this before. his mind races almost as quickly as his heartbeat as he watches you parade around his kitchen without a care in the world. you’re still wearing his t-shirt - a sight that still makes his cheek flush an embarrassingly deep red. 

his lips quirk upwards into an unconscious smile as he continues to watch you prepare breakfast for the two of you. sunlight shines in through your opened blinds, casting a golden glow across the entire room. the pleasant aroma filling the dorm is seemingly only made better by the fact that it comes from your food. 

renjun is only broken away from his thoughts when you slide a plate across the table towards him. you softly chuckle at his surprise as you slide into the chair across from him. “what’s on your mind?” you murmur.

he smiles, quietly shaking his head. reaching across the table, renjun takes your hand into his own. you intertwine your fingers together almost unconsciously; his thumb rubs small shapes into your skin. “you’re my best friend.” 

renjun can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest when you smile at him. your flushed cheeks mirror his own as you lean in, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips before you settle back into your seat once again. “i love you, jun. you mean everything to me.”

“i love you too.”

notes: i'm sorry fics have been taking so long recently, i've had horrible writers block for the past few weeks :// but i promise i'm doing my best !!

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, consider checking out my nct dream masterlist <3

[haechansdoll]

rooftop - hr x reader

Pairing : Hwang Renjunx f!Reader

Description: Renjun and y/n take a sightseeing break on the rooftop, which turns into something more.

Warnings : sneaking around, sex

y/n and renjun sat on the parapet wall of their dorm rooftop, looking over the City. They were on their break, which they used as an excuse to do some sightseeing… at least, that’s what they told their members. But everyone in the dorm knew that what they really meant was time alone together.

Renjun was the first to look at his wife. While the view of Seoul City from their building was beautiful, it couldn’t hold a candle to his wife's beauty. He took the time to admire everything about her, from her lovely black hair and gorgeous eyelashes to the adorable heart tattoo on her shoulder. Even though he lived with this beautiful creature and saw her every day, he never took her beauty for granted.

He then looked down and saw her hand set down next to him, which he couldn’t resist putting his own on top of. y/n looked back at him the moment he did so and noticed his loving gaze. She couldn’t help but smile at the handsome man beside him, making Renjun see her incredibly cute smile.

Now y/n was admiring how handsome her husband was, from his cute little freckles to his classy outfit. Much like Renjun, she cherished everything about him every day, even at times when she would get frustrated at him. To these two, they hit the jackpot when it came to romantic partners.

The two couldn’t help themselves anymore, so they leaned in and gave each other a sweet and tender kiss on the lips, savoring how it felt. They have kissed hundreds of times before, and not once had it become dull or meaningless. In fact, it came to a point where a passionate kiss was a euphoric experience for them, and today that was especially the case.

The two pulled away for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes, only for the addicting pull of their lips to bring them right back to smooching as if they were magnetized. It was much more intense this time as Renjun put his hand on y/n’s cheek. Their tongues would soon roll around in the other’s mouth as they began to moan from the intensity.

They took their tongue-fucking to the floor of the roof with Renjun on top of y/n. The two held each other in their arms, increasing their kiss's intensity. It came to a point where saliva was dripping from their mouths. They would pull away, but only to catch their breath for a couple of seconds before continuing the assault on their mouths. The feeling of their heavy breaths going down the other’s mouth, as well as the dance their tongues did together, would cause inevitable arousal in them.

After what felt like an eternity of tongue-fucking, they reluctantly pulled their lips away before looking at each other with a glare of passion as they panted. They didn’t need words to know what the other one wanted. While the chances of being walked in on by their coworkers were high, they didn’t care. They both wanted to make love right this second… no, they needed to.

So Renjun helped remove y/n’s pants and underwear, revealing her pink pussy that was already wet from their tongue dance. After that, y/n took off renjun’s pants and underwear, showing his dick which was hard and ready. Their kiss was all the foreplay they needed, and now they were prepared.

renjun pinned y/n’s hands on the ground by her side, interlocking his fingers with her own, before lining up his penis and slowly inserting it into y/n. She moaned as she felt it penetrate her, taking extra pleasure in the fact that she was doing it with the man she loved. renjun felt the same way as he looked his beautiful wife in the eyes, which only made him harder. Without further delay, he began to thrust his cock in and out of his wife, making her wail slightly louder. Renjun soon joined in on the moaning.

Even as the thrusts grew faster and faster, the two never broke eye contact. They had done many sex positions before, doggystyle, cowgirl, and sometimes even pegging, which he enjoyed. But their favorite was the classic missionary position, that way they could see their lover's faces as they romantically fucked.

The magnetizing pull of their lips activated as they went in for yet another kiss. With both of their mouths being attacked by the other’s tongue and moans combined with the sex, they were feeling pure sexual bliss. Not once did they pull their faces away during renjun’s penetration, for the taste of their saliva was too intoxicating to ever do so.

However, they stopped their kiss to scream in unison as they orgasmed in perfect harmony. He savored the feeling of his wife’s cum on his dick, while y/n did the same with her husband’s inside her. After regaining their composure, they looked at each other and smiled.

They said their I love yous before kissing yet again, but it was much less intense this time. It felt more like they were resting their lips atop the others. By now, their break was probably over, but the couple just wanted to spend more time in each other’s arms, so they did just that.

Members would understand… hopefully.

ps : Idk what i just wrote, I'm so sleepy..

[dojunie]

into you; hrj [sneak peek]

[★]; YOU LIKE HUANG RENJUN MORE THAN YOU’VE PROBABLY LIKED ANYTHING IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. Sure, you've only been more than friends for like, two weeks— a title-less thing that has you hanging out nearly every day but still hovering in the gray space between people who kiss sometimes and something a little more concrete— but it didn’t take you long to realize that he's pretty much everything you've ever wanted. What you’ve got going on with him right now is perfect in its own way, even if you find yourself almost overwhelmed with how much you like him these days… but considering that Renjun seems perfectly fine with the way things are, you’re not really gunning to tell him that.

(Though, after an incident at a party has you blowing up on your ex for a less than savory dig at your relationship— however unofficial it may be— you might not have to tell Renjun anything at all.)

info;

huang renjun x fem!reader

college au but no learning is going on

oneshot

genre/about; friends-who-kiss-sometimes to lovers, semi-established relationship but much pining is to be had, mc is Smitten, the full fic will have nsfw elements

teaser wc; 1k / full fic wc; 8-10k…ish (5k already written, woo, short fic era incoming)

[a/n: here is a very brief peek into a renjun fic that came to me in a fever dream, the one i’ve been working on non stop for like four days straight!!! renchins and others pls leave your thoughts in the replies or send me an ask, i beg]

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YOU'VE SIMMERED DOWN EVEN FURTHER BY THE TIME YOU'VE GOTTEN INSIDE HIS APARTMENT AND TAKEN A LONG, HOT SHOWER; scouring both the party and Jihoon’s touch from your skin, the nearly burning water is a welcome cleanse from the nights earlier events. (Though, if you’re being completely honest, the reason your face is so warm isn’t only because of the heat.)

Upon opening the front door and hustling inside, not a second had passed after toeing off your shoes off before Renjun spun you around kissed you.

And it wasn’t— It wasn’t rare for him to kiss you first. You didn’t want to make it seem like you had to chase him down for a smooch. But Renjun, as you’d guessed from his personality even before you started dancing around each other like this, was much more reserved than you were. He chose his moments for affection purposefully; a hand held here, a kiss on the cheek there, or (on more delicate occasions) a press of his lips against yours, mainly whenever you’d drop you off late at night, a quiet goodbye whispered against your mouth.

So it wasn’t rare but it wasn’t an exact science either, which is precisely why you didn't know what was happening until it was already over. The giant, dopey smile on his face only served to explain that he’d known exactly what he was doing by surprising you like that, and you held back the urge to launch yourself at him.

“That was my thank you,” Renjun started airily, teasing but still looking a little pink around the edges himself, “For trying to fight someone twice your size on my behalf. No one’s ever done that for me before. However, I would be very happy if you never did it again, because if you got hurt I would be very mad. Do you understand?”

You only stared at him. Your lips were tingling. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured. “Do you want to shower first?”

“…Yes,” you said lowly, finaly finding your voice. God. “Yeah. You take forever.”

“Well then I’ll get you something to change into,” he said. Then, terrifyingly, he leaned in as if he was going to kiss you again— but right when he was close enough for your eyes to cross, waiting, waiting, unwilling to not be ready this time— “What are you waiting for?" he whispered. "You’re blocking the closet. Go.”

He laughed when you ran, cursing him the whole way. 

Once you were out, sufficiently clean and doused head to toe in Renjun’s clothes (despite the fact that after like, the tenth time you’d been here, you brought a change of clothes to keep in his closet for spontaneous nights exactly like these), you found yourself both alone and introspective for the first time since the Jihoon incident. It was only expected that your mind would wander to how you got yourself to this point in the first place, draped across the couch of a guy you hadn’t even known the name of three months ago—

And it had started as a seating chart.

Seating charts were always a risky game. You could either be stuck next to the too-loud or the too-quiet, the cheaters with wandering eyes or the chatty kids who didn’t understand that class wasn’t only for socializing— or you could be put near an angel, someone would end up changing your life in a way that you never would have expected from that first day of classes. 

Thankfully, in Chinese Literature 201, it was the latter.

Renjun was a Language Study major; the pretty guy with soft brown hair, a pair of big silver glasses perched on his face and a sweet little smile to match— the quiet student who sat across the aisle from you in the lecture hall. Being dismissed by row after collecting your midterm practice grades meant that, out in the lobby, he had a front row seat to catch you pulling your hair out over your less than desirable grade— and seemingly out of nowhere, he tapped you on the shoulder and asked if you wanted a little help. Grateful (and frankly terrified by the idea of failing Chi Lit and having to take it again if you bombed this midterm), you’d taken him up on his offer: three times a week in the Sulim Library from 6 to 8PM.

The rest was pretty much history.

You got to know him outside of just flashcards and extra assigned readings, learned that he liked to sing and did ballet for four years in high school and hated the taste of matcha anything. You learned who his friends were and what he liked to do on campus. Renjun wasn’t like any guy you’d— actually no, scratch that, he wasn’t like any person you’d ever met before. He was quiet, but he wasn’t shy. He was able to shut you up with startling accuracy; an ability your friends even found miraculous when you told them after the first few tutoring sessions, a dumb smile on your face and swinging your feet, that you’d finally found someone who could argue better than you could.

Renjun could bring a smile to your face by saying your name alone. He was nice and he was sweet and he was thoughtful, but he had a temper that matched yours and the most endearing frustrated face you've ever seen on another person.

You often left his side feeling almost ill with awe that one person could be so… perfect. As awfully mushy as that sounds.

Thankfully, after a few weeks of woo-ing him with your roguish charm, when you bit the bullet and told him you liked him, he replied with a smile and a challenge— because Renjun was nothing if not focused on the goal of actually tutoring you— he told you that if you passed the midterm with a grade of B or above, he’d let you take him on a date.

Easy fucking money. There wasn’t a chance you were going to let this opportunity slip away from you. You studied so hard for that test that for nearly six days you only came out of your room to eat and pee. 

(You got a 96%— A big, beautiful red A+ on the midterm and a professors recommendation for your accompanying essay. Renjun only later told you that the alternative to a good grade was him taking you out instead, the prick; and he laughed so hard at the look on your face that you thought he was going to throw up.)

[a/n; crying screaming i'm so excited to post this lol]

[will put full fic link here when posted] [other works]

[heavenlyhuangs]

you watch in awe as your baby cousin hops down the venue aisle. flower petals drop out of the basket and leave and trail behind her.

“i’ve always wanted to be a flower girl, renjun. But I think it’s too late,” you say to your best friend/plus one.

he lets out a small laugh and rubs your arm, “it’s never too late.”

“renjun, we’re best friends right? can i be the flower girl at your wedding?”

“i’ll do you one better. i’ll let you be the bride.”

[studio-dreamie]

that ‘20s show — nct dream smau ml.

synopsis: oh junior year. starting your junior year in college, things start to become more serious; you have to think about a job, the future. but why can y/n only think about one of her best friend’s roommate. join y/n and her friends as they go through their third year of college together, they have no idea what’s going on or what they’re doing, but isn’t that the fun of it?

pairing: renjun x fem!reader

genre: social media au, college au, friends to lovers, love triangle (?), fluff, angst, comedy(well more like me trying to be funny and hoping it works tbh), coming of age

warnings: vulgar language (A LOT), crude jokes, drug use, sexual references, depression, anxiety, abusive household, self-esteem issues

status: ongoing (will be inconsistent/slow updates)

profiles pt 1 | profiles pt 2 | profiles pt 3

chapter 1: fukumean!

chapter 2: u alchie

chapter 3: fuckin weebs

chapter 4: man fuck jisung

chapter 5: lol

chapter 6: #CANCELLED

chapter 7: tiktok advice

chapter 8: what abt me

chapter 9: mr darcy

chapter 10: the hippo salt shaker

chapter 11: cafe date

chapter 12: a cautious cat

[everything-fine-n-peachy]

when daffodils bloom (h.rj)

pairings: huang renjun x reader genre: fluff (hbd baobei hihi) summary: your typical highschool nerds find a way to express their love for each other in the way they know best, very shy rj and kinda dense y/n

Renjun knew you had high standards. He expected nothing less after sharing all his honors classes with you for the last five years in high school. You even showed him a list you kept in your school journal, pointing at each item to explain why it was necessary. For example, you swore that the average shelf in a common household was just beyond the reach of someone like you, who stood at five foot three. Therefore, you needed someone at least five foot ten or taller to help you grab items on the top level.  

three inches, Renjun thought, he was below your standard by just three inches. 

This is exactly why he never found the courage to confess his feelings. Sure, he was the smartest guy in his class and it wasn’t like there weren’t other girls he could pursue, but there was just something special about you. He’d lost count of the amount of times Chenle had nagged at him to just come clean or give up all together. The thing is, Renjun may be a Math whiz but he was also really terrible at expressing himself. 

So he settles for giving you his reviewers. As in, only you. Whenever his friends would complain about how you didn’t need an extra hand in your academics, Renjun would wave them off and say you’d exchange top secret study notes anyway, nothing special. 

On the contrary, he would work tirelessly making sure he’d get all the right topics and jot them down in his careful handwriting, spending hours at a time before handing you a copy. 

And you were completely oblivious. 

To you, Renjun was your confidant, someone who could understand the many pressures of growing up in a family with high expectations. You thought he was way too handsome to look your way and always insisted to everyone who teased you that he was just a nice guy. 

On the days when you had Math tournaments to attend and missed class, he would be the one you’d run to for notes. Which is why you never stop to think that it was ever special treatment. 

That was until Giselle came sulking one day at lunch, begging you to lend her a copy of Renjun’s notes. 

“I told you already, I did ask Jeno if he had them but he told me that Renjun ever only gives them to you,” she whined. 

“That sounds a little far fetched now don’t you think?” You pause for a second contemplating the possibility of Renjun actually having feelings for you. It was absurd. 

“Well, notes aside, don’t you notice how he always likes to hang around you?” 

"That's just cause we have the same advanced electives," you counter.

"Okay how about, that time when he stayed behind while you sorted out responsibilities as homeroom representative? That' definitely counts for something since he belongs to a different homeroom class plus it was a Friday."

You take a thoughtful bite out of your sandwich.

am I really that dense?

The truth was you always thought he was handsome. You’ve just always been drawn to the more athletic type that your friends all fantasized about. 

A quick mental run down of your list makes you smile to yourself. He was top of his class (intelligent), could tolerate his chaotic circle of friends (patient), always willing to tutor struggling classmates (kind), and was very generous except with his reviewers. 

Did he still need to be five foot ten to be a guy you liked? 

After the bell rings Renjun returns to his classroom to find the reviewer he’d given you last week on his desk. You left a little post-it on the front with a message that read, 

thanks for the special subscription thinking of going premium…not just for the notes though :)  we can discuss terms over coffee this afternoon

Renjun bites his lip to hide his stupid grin. It’s no use when his friends have been peeking from behind, yelling and shoving each other over their friend’s newfound love life. He covers his face in embarrassment, more than anything else because Yangyang and Chenle are obnoxiously shrieking and making a scene. 

Whatever the case, he sits in class distracted for the first time. He thinks the entire English lesson probably went over his head, but it was a small matter. You asked him out. Given, it was likely to turn into a study date. Then again, studying is always better when it’s with you. 

[neodreamzenie]

Imagine

Ex Best Friend h.rj

Genre: Angst

Wc: 0.1k

Warnings: Mention of bullying

You and your best friend stuck together since elementary and nothing could seperate the two of you. Until now. You sat at a lunch table - alone. That's how it is. Alone, again. People call you fat, a freak, slurs and insults, they don't even bother to whisper anymore. You're playing with the food in front of you, because you don't really haven an appetite. You really miss him so much, but he's with his new friends. "Hey, watch this!" One girl from his table said. She walked towards you, snatching your hood, along with strands of hair throwing you to the ground. People were watching you - in amusement. You winced in pain, she took quite a strong grip of your wrist. "Just a daily wrist check!" She yelled to everyone, before yanking down your sleeve, revealing multiple fresh and some older cuts and scars. Tears welled up in your eyes. The worst part about this is, that no one helped you. They were all busy laughing. Even Huang Renjun.

[hibernatinghamster]

u have *no* idea how many times ive reread this and still cry- kinda my comfort fic tbh

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: can i have a hug? | hrj

summary | a series of routines between you and your boyfriend, renjun, shortly after moving in with each other.

genre | huang renjun x fem!reader. non-idol! au. angst with a cute ending, renjun is a bit protective

warnings | a lot of self doubt, jaemin’s girlfriend is awful and mean, y/n and renjun overset boundaries (if that’s a thing)

wc | 3.7k

a/n: renjun is the love of my life and i would do anything for him even w the military cut amen thank you god also suhyun isn’t based off anyone

TO BE HONEST, it would be a lie to say you weren’t expecting this. Despite that, there was a glimmer of hope, an all-consuming glimmer, that made you believe your moving into Renjun’s apartment would be more than it actually was.

Renjun values his alone time, and you know that. You’ve respected it for your whole relationship, and, honestly, it wouldn’t be too far off to say you held the same sentiments. You would even say that was half the reason you both fit together so well.

When you first brought up moving in together, you’d suggested separate bedrooms, claiming it might be better for both of you. It was Renjun who rejected the idea, saying it would just drive a wedge between you two and how much you hung out.

You were overjoyed then, but not so much now.

Glancing at your clock, which read 1:03 am, you were upset that you couldn’t fall asleep. You were exhausted, with your eyes hurting at every movement and your limbs stuck to the mattress, but closing your eyes and letting your mind run made everything worse.

You were on the left corner of the bed, and Renjun had squared himself all the way to the right. He hadn’t so much as touched you, only offering you a small “good night” and a smile. He’d fallen asleep quickly, too, as he always did, not giving you a second thought.

Renjun wasn’t very touchy (and, once again, you weren’t either). Still, a part of you had also hoped that he’d initiate even the slightest bit of skinship, whether it be hand-holding or even the slightest bit of proximity between you two. But, no, he was at least a foot away from you, maybe more, tucked into himself.

As you were realizing, it felt…bad. Even if he normally slept like this, even if you both weren't big into skinship, it felt awful. It felt like he was afraid to touch you, uncomfortable with touching you, even though you lived together.

You’d get over it, soon enough. You knew Renjun loved you—he’d let you move into his apartment, for free no less, for god’s sake—but, in little moments like these, it’s hard to wrap your mind around.

-

Usually, you like hanging out with Renjun’s friends. They’re a fun group of people, always having something to bicker over or joke about, and you never leave without laughing until your cheeks hurt.

Tonight, though, was terrible.

Jaemin had invited his girlfriend—a rare occurrence from him, as they’d only started dating recently—and he had no issue with any sort of affection, even in front of so many people. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, practically dragged her onto his lap, and hugged her for nearly the entire night, all of which were things you would hate to happen to you.

Still, you couldn’t help but compare them to how you felt now.

Meanwhile, the rest of Renjun’s friends were going on and on about your new living situation, poking fun at how you came in the same car and left in the same one. Haechan particularly teased you both, referring to you as the first married couple in the relationship. At one point, he assumed a mocking old-lady voice, asking “when are you planning to have kids?” which drew a long sigh from both you and Renjun.

Unfortunately, the lovey-dovey jokes on top of Jaemin and Suhyun made you want to drive a drill into your skull more than ever.

You were particularly quiet on the ride home, staring at the moon from the car window. You wondered if the moon felt lonely orbiting the Earth, in the way you somehow managed to feel lonely in the most loving relationship you’d experienced in your whole life.

Of course, Renjun picked up on your quietness almost immediately. “Are you feeling okay?” he had asked, linking your pinkies together as he drove. The touch, as simple and as common as it was in your relationship, sent an uncomfortable sensation down your arm.

“I’m okay,” you replied, trying to sound as chipper as possible. “They tire me out.”

He didn’t press more, humming in response. You knew he didn’t believe you, but Renjun also trusted that, if something was wrong and you didn’t share, you would know how to handle it.

When you got home, you practically slid into bed almost immediately. Your skincare routine was cut short and you put on your warmest pajamas, mostly in hopes that they’d make you feel more loved at night than Renjun did.

You were in bed before him, but, once again, you couldn’t sleep. Instead, you kept your eyes closed, even when Renjun was talking on the phone with Mark in a hushed voice, even when he pressed his hand to your forehead and told Mark “no, she doesn’t have a fever,” even when he crawled into bed next to you (yet still so far away) and whispered a quiet “good night,” even though he thought you were sleeping.

-

You thought things wouldn’t get worse than they already were. You convinced yourself this was temporary, this was okay, that you’d get over it soon enough.

Renjun’s friends had other plans, though.

Living with him meant seeing them a lot more. Renjun held a lot of importance to making sure his friends knew you, and that you knew his friends. Skipping out on their get-togethers often would make him upset, and you didn’t want to make him upset.

Hanging out with his friends, however, was starting to make you upset, ironically enough.

Somehow, Mark had come upon a large amount of very illegal fireworks (his friend Johnny had given them to him, which upset Haechan a fair amount, for some reason). Now, you were sitting in Chenle’s backyard—his huge, multi-acre backyard—lighting them off.

The only issue was Jaemin inviting his girlfriend again, and them being all over each other, as per usual. You and Renjun were sitting next to each other, sure, but you were about half a foot apart and hadn’t touched each other since Renjun helped you onto the ledge you both sat on.

The moment Jaemin and Suhyun arrived, she was sitting in his lap, and he was whispering stuff in her ear, and she was marveling at the colors, and Jaemin was looking at her like she was the world. The only issue was that you knew that you’d hate it, once again, but you couldn’t help but yearn for what they had, what she had.

Mark dropped his phone onto the grass once a big group of fireworks went off, evidently done recording that round. He looked at Chenle, saying something to him (which you couldn’t hear), just before running off towards where the rest of the fireworks were.

As silence overtook the group, Suhyun turned towards your ledge, suddenly staring you down. It made you more anxious, and it took everything in you to stand your ground and not twiddle your thumbs in discomfort.

You began to open your mouth to comment on the fireworks, but Suhyun filled the silence before you could.

“So you two are dating?” she asked, looking between you and Renjun. He looked over at her, giving her a wary look you could only describe as his signature just-shut-up look.

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, wondering if she’d miraculously forgotten that you both were introduced to her as a couple. She hummed in recognition, nodding and biting her lip. She looked as though she was plotting something, a certain emotion you couldn’t pinpoint flashing behind her eyes.

With the small upturn of her lips, she asked, “For how long?”

You weren’t looking at him directly, but you could’ve sworn Renjun rolled his eyes at her question. He looked annoyed that she even decided to speak to you, hell, he just looked annoyed.

“Three years,” he replied. Usually, when someone asked how long you’d been together, he was excited to answer, as if he was proud of the length of time. Now, he looked unhappy and angry, like he wanted nothing more than for Suhyun to shut up.

“Really?” she suddenly replied, her eyes widened and her brows lifted. This whole situation was off-putting; more often than not, when people responded to “three years” with “really?” their tone of voice was impressed, but hers felt surprised in a not-so-kind way.

You heard Haechan, who sat next to you, suck in a breath, like he was going to start speaking, but he never got the chance.

“Sorry, it just doesn’t look like you guys even like each other.”

The words were nails screeching on a chalkboard, a violin’s strings violently snapping in the middle of the song, a hammer flying through a glass door.

Your stomach tightened, and you tensed immediately. Without skipping a beat, Renjun said, “Excuse me?” with the most malicious tone you’d heard out of him in a while. She shrugged, looking back towards Mark and Chenle. Jeno hopped off the ledge instantly, looking back at Renjun and Haechan before jogging out towards the two stragglers.

“Hey,” Jisung suddenly piped in from his blanket on the grass, face contorting into one of apprehension. “Maybe let's talk about something else.”

Jaemin looked a bit shocked, his eyes widened and his mouth slightly ajar, but he didn’t try to say anything. In the tense silence, Haechan let out a loud scoff, drawing you to look at him. He had the same expression as Renjun—intense dislike, maybe even hatred—and you felt like you were missing something.

“What the fuck do you know?” Haechan spat, crossing his arms. “Just because they aren’t making out every second of the day doesn’t mean they don’t like each other.”

“What I want to know,” Renjun began with a tight voice, and, suddenly, you were scrambling, realizing he was very upset by the question, and Renjun was not easy to deal with when angry. You put your hand over his, cringing at the unconsented touch, but still hoping it would help in the slightest. “Is why you think you know anything about my relationship when you’ve met my girlfriend once before today? I suppose I’m not following.”

The sort of politeness in his voice was one you were accustomed to. When he was especially upset, he took on a sort of condescension, yet he lowered his chin to look up at whoever he was talking to. Jaemin, definitely not thinking straight, jumped to Suhyun’s defense at the sight of Renjun’s offense.

“Dude, chill out,” he said, visibly tightening his arms around Suhyun’s stomach. “She didn’t mean it like you think she did.”

Suhyun looked towards the speed-walking Mark, Chenle, and Jeno, puffing her lips out into an unassuming pout.

“No, I think she did mean it like that. Just like she’s meant everything else,” Renjun replied, and then the blame had shifted.

“Renjun,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s fine. Just ignore it.”

Instead, he ignored you. Haechan did too, apparently, coming to Renjun’s defense.

“I guess she didn’t mean it, though, huh? When she called Mark a loser, or when she told me to go waste my time pining over another one of my friends.” He laughed dryly, rolling his neck in a circle. “Get a grip, Jaemin. Holy shit.”

“Guys.” Mark “the mediator” Lee appeared, but he’d shown up all too late. Renjun returned your hand-holding, but he did so to pull you off the ledge with him. Abruptly, you were exiting the firework hang-out, Haechan following close behind.

“Guys!” Mark called out once again, but Renjun didn’t look back, not until you were in the car.

-

Upset Renjun had made things worse at home.

When you’d gone to bed, he opted to stay up with Haechan in the living room. You’d never seen him so worked up, not like this. Part of it made you feel good, feel loved, but the other part of it made you feel worse than before.

You knew the reason she’d said that was your lack of couple-presenting activities, or, more simply, PDA. She hadn’t heard an ‘I love you’ or anything similar once, and, if you had to guess, the first time she’d seen you touch Renjun was when you were trying to calm him down.

In a way, she was right. It was bad to even consider it, but she was kind of right.

The sound of your front door opening and closing was loud, but you were glad Haechan was gone and Renjun was coming to bed. Taking one last look at the moon, you squeezed your eyes shut, curling into yourself. If you were lucky, sleep would come easy tonight, but this was one of the unluckiest nights of your life, so far.

Renjun opened the door to your bedroom a little too roughly, but he closed it very gently, so as not to disturb your fake sleep. There was the sound of clothes rustling, of belts being taken off and sweatpants being put on, but it seemed like he would be bypassing his usual, extensive nighttime routine.

Instead, he got under the covers right beside you, tugging you into his chest. Your eyes flew open, followed by a small “Renjun?” that escaped from your throat.

“Go back to sleep,” he mumbled into your neck, causing goosebumps to sprout down your arms. “I love you. Good night.”

And, for the first time in about two weeks, you fell asleep with ease.

-

Nothing had changed. You were hopeful it had, after that night, but once Renjun calmed down, everything was the same, and you were back to feeling the sinking feeling in your stomach all too soon.

There was something that had shifted, though, and that is how you ended up sitting across from Mark at a small cafe in the city. He was nervous, you could easily tell from the way he spoke to the way he walked. When he texted you, he was sure to inform you that this was about Renjun and Jaemin, nothing more, nothing less.

“I don’t know what to do,” he sighed, putting his head in his hands. “They’re at each other’s throats, even though this should be something they get over easily. Hyuck is taking Renjun’s side, and so is Jeno, but the rest of us are pretty much neutral. It’s causing a lot of drama. I don’t know.”

“In the kindest way possible,” you began to respond, taking a big gulp of your coffee. “The problem here seems to be Suhyun and not Jaemin or Renjun.”

“I guess so, but…was the comment really that bad?”

In a burst of sudden discontent, you frowned. “I think…I think the issue is that she was a little too right.”

Mark furrowed his brows, suddenly confused. “I mean, right about what? You and Renjun orbit each other like…like two colliding stars, or something—god, that was a little cringy of me. But, seriously, I can’t see how she was right.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you decided, at the moment, Mark was someone you could trust. He would know how to drag you out of the situation you were in, you were sure of it. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“Renjun and I, like, barely even touch each other. The last time we even kissed was three days ago, and it was only because he was going to be gone for a long while. It’s like…moving in with each other made us afraid of each other,” you lamented, looking down at your hands. “We share a bed, but he sleeps as far as he possibly could from me. Like, the other night, I felt uncomfortable even holding his hand. We are stepping over boundaries we had set like two weeks into our relationship. I guess Suhyun must’ve picked that up somehow, but…I don’t know.”

Mark was quiet for a minute, and, when you looked up, he seemed to be deliberating something. “That’s why you’ve been so out of it, then? Not because you're feeling bad or something is going on at work?”

“…Yeah, that would be why.”

“I get it. It makes sense now, why he got that angry and why things have been weird. I’m not saying I like Suhyun, she seriously is awful, but it makes sense.”

“What—what should I do?”

Mark thought for a minute more, tapping his chin. “Okay, here’s our plan. I break Jaemin and Suhyun up using Jeno, and you ask Renjun for a hug. How about that?”

-

You and Renjun used to ask each other for hugs a lot. Back in the first year of your relationship, it was commonplace for you both, and the answer was always yes. Then, during your second year, there was less asking and more just-doing. The third year brought a weird type of hesitation that came with living with someone else for the first time, not in the way of a roommate, but in the way of a lover.

You didn’t expect to be nervous to ask Renjun for a hug ever.

You were coming home from a movie you’d planned on seeing in the Cinema weeks in advance. You were quick to shed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the hooks next to your front door. Your shoes came off and you stretched your arms out, glad to be inside your warm apartment and no longer out in the rainy cold.

This was when you decided you’d ask Renjun for a hug. Even if you were so nervous you could die, you would ask him for that hug, no matter what.

When you put your purse down, you began hyping yourself up internally, screaming at yourself to just go for it, that he was your boyfriend, and you’d done much worse than a hug before. So, with a brave pivot, you stared at Renjun with conviction, and he stared back with confusion.

“Yes?” he asked, dropping the keys in the little bowl you had for them.

“Can I have a hug?” you forced out, ignoring how your throat tightened and you oddly felt like crying. He stared at you for a moment, before his mouth turned up into a big smile.

“What? You don’t have to ask me for a hug, loser,” he said, approaching you. He drew you into the allotted hug, rocking you back and forth with him. “We stopped asking so long ago. What prompted that?”

“I don’t know,” you lied, squeezing his waist as hard as you could. You couldn’t lie—Renjun gave very good, very warm hugs. He smelled of wood and the ocean, like the quiet beach town you’d both fantasized about living in. His sweaters were always warm and soft, engulfing you into a blanket-like embrace.

“You could…hug me more, you now. Maybe at night, and stuff. Like couples in a movie,” you suggested, burying your face into his neck. Renjun suddenly went quiet as you rocked around the room.

“Oh,” he finally erupted, squeezing you back. “Oh, I get it now. That was it.”

You didn’t say anything, even as Renjun erupted into a fit of little giggles. Through his chuckles, he said, “God, we are so stupid. I thought you were about to break up with me. I thought I’d done something. No, we were just being dumb. I have to tell Mark.”

“We aren’t dumb, we just respect each other too much. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Renjun unwrapped his arms from your waist, taking your face into his hands. “I guess, but not when it was driving us severely apart,” he mused.

Gently, Renjun pulled you into a kiss. It was reminiscent of the first few kisses you’d both shared, all of which were well-timed and disgustingly romantic. It was slow and soft, with no ill-intent behind either of your actions. It was filled with unspoken love and minty undertones, the softness of his lips and the warm feeling of his hands on your cheeks.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit blue. You’d unknowingly deprived yourself of your boyfriend for so long under the guise of “respecting his boundaries,” and now you just wanted to spend your time with him eternally.

“I love you,” he spoke in a sing-songy voice. It was much happier than the last time he’d told you he loved you.

“I love you too,” you replied with the same tune, smiling like an idiot. “Also, Mark is going to try to break Suhyun and Jaemin up.”

“Thank god,” Renjun breathed out, leaning his forehead against yours. “Did you know she practically harassed Chenle to set them up? She’s seriously awful. But, I’m going to text him to wait, so I can make out with you in front of her right before Jaemin leaves her for good.”

“I’d hate that,” you laughed. “Maybe we can hold hands or something.”

“No, she’s going to have to sit and watch. Just to prove a point.” Renjun planted another short kiss on your lips, pulling away for good this time. You followed after him, realizing he was just going to start dinner and wasn’t going to do anything special. “You can have a hug whenever you like, my dear. Just say the word, and I’m there.

thank you for reading!

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) unintentionally riding them ! ୨୧ 一 엔시티드림 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ unintentionally riding nct dream on a rideヾ

boyfriend!엔시티드림・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ nudes , allusions to sex wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ click to library

request. hear me out…… what about nct dream going with yn to that ride disco pang pang and you end up on top of them (idk if you’ve seen a video that’s been going around where a girl is literally riding other girl😭)

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 those rides are scary as hell i couldn't imagine falling into a strangers lap like the video.

﹙ 𐙚 : mark﹚ .ᐟ

he knows you mean no harm; the ride was quite literally tossing you both around , and you just happened to land on him — but it didn't stop his cock from growing inside is jeans. he's stressed , he knows you feel it. “fu-fuck im so sorry.” he said , your face is hot , cheeks are rosy as you feel him beneath you , he's embarrassed , but so turned on , he was gonna cum . “but fuck you feel good , im sorry , im so sorry .” he's just wishing the damn ride would end.

“fuck im sorry but im about to cum.”

﹙ 𐙚 : renjun﹚ .ᐟ

he's embarrassed as hell; but his ass is not about to let you know that. “re-renjun are you hard?” he scoffed , rolling his eyes. “you're straddling me , and this ride is bouncing you on my dick , of course I'm hard , wouldn't you be hard if you were in my position? i know you're probably turned on right now , don't make it seem like it's only me.” he stressed , he's about to cum in his pants and he wasn't about to give you leverage to further tease him. “oh fuck will this ride ever fucking end.”

“we're leaving this fucking amusement park arter this.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jeno﹚ .ᐟ

his hands immediately come to your waist to hold you from falling when the ride tossed you into his lap. “hi.” he tries to smile it off — even though the ride is practically bouncing you on his dick. you're actually the one profusely apologizing , but he pretends that it doesn't even bother him , even though he's hard a fucking rock and you're riding him unintentionally in front of all these people and he has to force himself not to moan. “i don't think i can get up after this.” he said. “it's already embarrassing with you on top of me.”

“i don't want these people to see my dick hard.”

﹙ 𐙚 : haechan﹚ .ᐟ

shameless motherfucker; you would've thought he was already hard before the ride tossed you into the boys lap. “haechan are you serious?” he smirking holding you close by your waist. “you're grinding on top of me and you're confused as to why im hard.” he scoffed , your eyes widened at his sudden brazen attitude , you knew he was a wild card but even this was too much for you. you only come back when he groans , he doesn't even care.

“fuck if this ride doesn't stop soon i’m gonna cum.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jaemin﹚ .ᐟ

with the smirk on his face , you would've thought he orgistrated the entire thing himself , his hands on your waist , meanwhile you're the one who's embarrassed as hell. “why are you so embarrassed?” he knew you could feel his hard on , he could feel you as well. “im-im glad you're having a good time.” you on the other hand , your body was on fire. “I am baby i am.” the ride still tossing you around but he made sure to hold you still.

“but i'm more excited about the time we're about to have when we get off this ride.”

﹙ 𐙚 : chenle﹚ .ᐟ

completely turns it on you; yeah he's the one thats hard , but you're the one on top of him and you're the one who caused it in his eyes , not the ride. “if you wanted to ride me you should've just asked , not force me on this nauseating ride so you can do it shamelessly.” you wanted to slap him so bad , but you were too busy grabbing the bar to keep yourself from flying off. “sh-shut up.” your face hot from embarrassment as you straddled him. “im not gonna cum in my pants like a teenager.”

“but all bets are off when we get off this ride.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jisung﹚ .ᐟ

he wants to kill himself to moment he feels you on top of him; his face is red , he wanted to die — but it felt good and that's what made him feel like a pervert , because it wasn't sexual , but his stupid cock didn't seem to get the message. he swore the person who managed the ride had something against him because the ride was never ending and no matter how many times you tried to get up , the ride was plopping you back into his lap. “ji-jisung.” your hands holding his shoulders , he stops you before you can finish.

“please don't say anything , im sorry , so fucking sorry.”

©LUVYENI

[rrxnjun]

portrait of a blank slate. huang renjun

pairing: huang renjun x fem! reader genre: college au. fluff, smut, and the tiniest bit of angst. warnings: swearing, alcohol, angry man renjun, very bad dialogue, this is the most un-renjun fic i've ever written, dry humping, a heavy makeout session, unfinished blowjob word count: 5.8k playlist: no specific one this time but i listened to a lot of keshi while writing this, so have this playlist of mine to fit the vibes a/n: inspired by that one tweet describing how someone's art professor met his wife the same exact way, lost the screenshot and also the og post im so sorry!

turns out all it takes to save a life is a bad, bad college party, a few shots and a weird, magical coincidence back in a girl's dorm room.

It’s hard to believe that Huang Renjun is currently finishing up the art portfolio he needs for his summer internship program after procrastinating and angrily stomping at every single bad stroke of his paintbrush for the last few months.

Because he’s not.

He’s looking at the canvas with stern eyes, the smudges on the white linen so messy he could cry just by looking at them, and the more he tries to save the disgrace currently scribbled in front of him, the worse it gets and makes the levels of frustration in him turn into rage and fury, because let’s be honest– what is Renjun’s primary emotion if not anger. 

And he tries hard to fix it again, he really does– he sighs heavily while doing so as he takes a smaller brush and tries to paint on a few hairstrokes to the portrait of Frida Kahlo he wants to execute– and in honest reality, it doesn’t even look half as bad as it does in the poor boy’s eyes when he takes a step back after holding in his breath and carefully piercing together the artwork. Maybe if there was someone else in the room– everyone but his annoying roommate Donghyuck, because that fucker always manages to make things even worse– they could talk him out of it, offer some words of consolidation, even, hype him up and tell him that with outsider’s eyes, the canvas looks beautiful and very well put together. But the truth is that there’s no one present right now, not a single soul in what feels like the whole campus right now, that could ease Huang Renjun’s frustration from what seems to be art block, when he throws the paintbrush to the wall (he’ll worry about the stain of acrylic paint later, when he gains consciousness) and puts a fist through the middle of the painting.

If he was a character in a comic book, his hand would go through the canvas and create a quite satisfying hole. He’s a real person, though– a weak one as well, to be quite honest– and his fist is stopped by the stretched-out fabric, making his hand bounce back, but now stained with all shades of brown and tan, which somehow only makes him even more mad and turns him into a furious animal roaming around free and causing uttermost chaos in his all true sense.

Nothing can stop Huang Renjun when he opens the drawer he keeps all his artwork in, taking out all the graphite sketches and colored pencil drawings, and then the next one containing the watercolor paintings and various other acrylic paintings done on expensive sheets of paper, stacking all of those onto one pile in the middle of the table. Not one thing is safe– except from the digital artworks he keeps in his iPad and his big A4 sketchbook he forgot about in the heat of the moment, since he keeps it on his nightstand– when he takes the big, heavy stack of art and runs, chimes towards the entrance of his and Donghyuck’s miniature dorm room, luck only standing by his side once in this whole evening when his said roommate opens the door and clears the way for him, looking at the poor boy with mouth agape in a slight shock.

“What the fuck are you doing right n–”

Donghyuck doesn’t get an answer. When he asks stupid questions, Renjun doesn’t tend to pay him much mind, settling on not engaging with the discourse if it doesn’t make much sense, so Hyuck should be used to the ignorance– he thinks this was a very valid question to ask at this moment, though. If he was curious enough, he’d even follow his roommate down the hall and watch him in his endeavors only to find out what’s the intention behind his angry stomping and the fierce look on his face. The truth is, though, he doesn’t care all that much.

That doesn’t stop Huang Renjun, though, as he chimes down the hall of the boy’s dormitory, kicks the glass door open (thankfully not the actual glass part, because that would for sure be expensive) and practically runs the rest of the way towards the bins at the end of the street, dumping the papers into the bin (forgive him for not recycling in his current state of mind) before he angrily kicks the poor object twice for good measure and turns on his heel, slowly, but still as angrily making his way back to his dorm room by stomping all the way up until the entrance.

The dorm guard doesn’t even ask for his dorm ID like he usually does– Renjun must have been quite memorable as he ran out of the building with 5kg of artwork of various sizes in his arms– but the truth is, the man isn’t as old and he saw the boy going out just a few minutes ago, so he doesn’t think it’s necessary. Renjun would appreciate the memo, although, when he remembers that the man always asks for the dorm ID, especially on the nights out when he comes back slightly intoxicated and too disoriented to look for the little slip of paper in his pockets, and on the nights when he forgets his dorm ID as well– the man was set on letting him sleep on the front porch of the dormitory once and it took Renjun 15 calls to get ahold of a sleeping Donghyuck and another 15 of him walking down the hall in slippers and pajama bottoms with his roommate’s dorm ID in hand before he could warm his bones from the cold slowly seeping into his bones on the January night– and that whole thing makes Renjun somehow even more angry at the whole situation.

And so when he comes into his room again, Donghyuck now sitting on his bed still in his outside clothes (something Renjun hates and would murder for), and his eyes land on the damaged canvas still waiting for him in the corner of the room, he wastes no time in opening his window and throwing it down from the second floor, not really caring where it ends up or if he’s gonna get a fine for violating one of the dormitory rules– to never throw stuff out of the windows..

“Dude, what is–”

“Don’t ask.” Renjun huffs as he closes the door and peels his clothes off, taking a towel that’s still hanging from the top bunk of their bed and aims towards the bathroom door. A true tantrum can only end in a cold shower, and that’s what Renjun’s gonna do as he washes his dreams down the drain and ends up silently crying himself to sleep tonight in agony.

It’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party since the days of ‘megaparties’ of Johnny Suh, the senior that’s slowly halting his party performance due to stilling in life. Renjun was dragged to Lee Jeno’s party by his roommate Donghyuck after he mourned in his bed for approximately two days before it got too much for the poor gemini, promising and honestly thinking that alcohol is truly the best solution for the poor boy’s misery. Again, it’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party of the year when he listens to the loud EDM music piercing through his eardrums and he swears he catches a glimpse of a couple dry humping on the couch.

Because he’s not.

He’s at a college party, sure. He’s also getting some alcohol into his system– because why not, am I right? He’s not the one paying, and that’s always enough of a reason to drink. Is it the best college party he’s ever experienced, though? Absolutely not.

It’s quite literally the worst party he’s ever been to. The music is too loud and the whole house smells of cheap vodka, people are pushing each other around and with the amount of alcohol in his system, the whole room feels like he’s on a boat, his stomach weak and his eyes hazy. Renjun must admit Hyuck’s therapy skills are kind of paying off– because at least now he’s not thinking about the wasted opportunity of a summer scholarship and is instead looking into the eyes of his cute classmate from History class across the room– but at the same time, he’s not thinking much of anything in this moment, and the glint of your eyes is the only thing he can focus on when you get closer.

That might be a good or a bad thing– depends on how the encounter goes. There’s a fine line between the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to get rid of his usual shyness and speak to other, much more attractive human species, and the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to black out and puke on the floor, efficiently making it impossible for him to chat up the cute classmate he’s been eyeing the whole semester and ruining his chances of ever being seen in a good light in front of the said person ever again. He prays intensely that he hasn’t crossed the line yet when you open your mouth and speak to him in the crowded kitchen.

“Renjun!”

“Y/N!” he tries to mimic your tone, a flashy grin settling onto his face when you approach him first. You two aren’t strangers, after all– you’ve sat together in class during various exams and also accidentally bumped into each other in the cafeteria, but what were your courageous attempts in making conversation with him and efficiently trying to make him more interested in you didn’t lead to your desired goal of getting invited out by him, instead leading him to think you’re just that friendly to everyone and not just him, making the chances of him taking the next step that much slimmer. Not tonight, though– he really must have had too much to drink.

“How are you?” you ask, clearing your throat as you bump into someone and decide to shift closer to Renjun, making the boy’s breathing hitch in his throat.

“Wonderful,” he gasps, and for some reason, the response laced in irony makes an excited laugh escape your throat, and the more he listens to your bubbly giggle, the more he wishes he did music instead of fine arts, because maybe if he was competent enough, he could mimic the sound in one of his songs and replay it over and over even when you’re not around. 

“That sounds very genuine,” you note, which makes the boy laugh in return, making him wonder if maybe he could have the same effect on you– if you’re smiling wider now because of the sound of his laughter, or if you’re just amused at something completely else. 

It’s pathetic, really– the gloomy boy that was trailing to this party behind his roommate Donghyuck is nowhere to be seen now, instead replaced by the cheap imitation of a ray of sunshine that you brought out of him only with the magic of a few words and the few drops of alcohol on his tongue.

“Oh, trust me, it was genuine,” he teases, and you only nod to his attempt at masking his obviously saddened composure from before.

“Having a rough week?” you ask, and you sound truly interested– something Renjun hasn’t found in the tone of his roommate when he insisted on dragging him here– and maybe that’s the reason why he just shrugs and decides to come clean and be honest with you. You seem like that kind of person that wouldn’t make fun of his troubles, the kind of person that would genuinely want to help– although he’s not seeking counseling tonight, he figures he can talk a bit about his shitty mood if it means that it gets the conversation flowing.

“A rough life, actually,” he snickers before he sees you eye him with a concerned look, “just joking,” he adds before he retracks back and fixes his initial answer. “Some things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to, so I’m kind of moping around for a bit.”

You seem to feel empathetic towards the boy, nodding and pouting at his confession. “Well, I hope things get fixed for you, Jun,” you mumble, tone of voice encouraging– and maybe he could dwell at the caring nature of you a little longer, only if it wasn’t for your use of a nickname for him that just oh so sweetly rolls of your tongue and Renjun wishes he could legally change his name to the nickname so he could listen to the way it sounds forever– scratch that, to the way it sounds from your mouth forever, which means he won’t change it, just so it’s reserved for you and only you to say.

“What about you, though?” he finds himself asking in the midst of his inner screeching.

“Me? I’m great, totally fine, having the time of my life,” you emphasize, the over-the-top expression on your face making the boy burst into laughter as you wave your arms around as if to show him your surroundings. “I am a party person for sure, you know, so this is perfect,” you joke, and Renjun seems to get the memo. If he’s being honest, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you at a party before– not that he goes to many himself, which might honestly be the reason, actually– you could just be at different parties in different times that hadn’t overlaid, but by the way you’re currently tensely sipping at the alcohol in your hand, he figures you’re not too familiar with the scene of college partying.

“Who forced you to go? Was it your roommate?” Renjun remembers the girl from another one of his classes– you two were always walking around together and often got to class at the same time. Figuring out that you two lived together wasn’t as difficult, and she surely seems to be the more extroverted one.

“No, actually,” you say, eyes glimmering when he seems to remember the girl you share a room with, “to my surprise, honestly. It was another one of my friends– Na Jaemin, not sure if you know him– but the moment we got here, he disappeared and left me alone to deal with my thoughts,” you click your tongue and Renjun finds himself totally mesmerized with you– amazed with everything about you; the way you talk, the way you lean on the counter and watch him with stars in your eyes (which might just be the reflections of the kitchen lights, but don’t tell him that), the way you slightly lean into him when he cracks a joke and earns a laugh out of you…

“They always do that,” Renjun scowls, “they drag the introvert in and then force them to survive on their own…” he shakes his head in disappointment, clearly distraught over the situation. 

“Exactly! But if you ask them to come with you to a picnic, or to the library, they decline the offer. So much for being good friends,” you roll your eyes. Renjun finds himself smiling, and although he must admit that as every other college student, he himself would decline an invitation to a library if anyone asked, he’s like 99% certain that if it was you uttering out the question, he wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before joyfully jogging there with you. 

“Ask me next time,” he blurts out, a poor attempt at flirting, “I wouldn’t say no.”

And it seems like tonight is the night where you suddenly get the last kick of courage needed when you talk to Renjun– maybe fueled by his coy smile when he said the previous comment, maybe just acting out on pure hormones– tonight's the night where he breathlessly takes your offer, still not thinking much of it, but igniting a curious spark in his own heart nonetheless, when you scratch the back of your neck in the last residue of anxiety, scrunching your nose at him and mumbling under your nose, barely heard above the loud music resonating through the living room. “Do you wanna sneak into my dorm room, then?” 

Renjun almost chokes at your question– visitors in the dormitory are only allowed until midnight and as far as he’s aware, the clock is well after 2 AM right now, and he’s a male visitor, which is even more off the bounds in the eyes of the fierce woman guarding the entrance of the girl’s dormitory building. The more he stares at you, the more you seem to translate his silence into disagreement, which you panically try to undo with even more rambling. “I- I mean, since we both kind of hate this party and I think that if I drink more, I’m going to puke all over myself, so… My room is on the ground floor, so you can just climb in, if you wanted to. My roommate went home for the weekend, so there’s no one there, and we could– I mean, we don’t have to, honestly, but it’s kinda cold out and I thought we could both use a place more silent, ‘cause I really wanna head back now, but I don’t want to stop talking to you, y’know, and I don’t know if–”

“Okay, I’m down,” Renjun nods, efficiently shutting up your rambling, and when there’s a very apparent relief flashing over your face, he finds himself smiling in endearance at your antics, going as far as ruffling a hand through your hair in whatever kick the alcohol mixed with adrenaline gave him before you have him dragging his feet out of the house, both of your feet shuffling towards the campus.

The walk isn’t long, but he finds himself enjoying it. The condensation coming out of your mouths at the chilly weather serves more to the atmosphere when the both of you giggle out at absurd jokes and gossip, your voice breaking into soft hums when you sing a song under your breath in moments of silence that somehow feel both kind of awkward, but also kind of pleasant. He drags you by your hand to the other side of the sidewalk when a car passes by and you jump in surprise, eyes wide and glossy, mouth a little agape in an open-mouthed grin when his fingers stay intertwined with yours and you adjust your purse on your other shoulder, clearing your throat before you try to nonchalantly continue on with the conversation.

“I’ll go inside now,” you announce when you get to the girl’s dormitory building, breaking apart from the eager boy and coming closer to him when you confide the secret, “I’ll turn the light on in my room when I get there, so make sure to look out for the window. I’ll help you in, don’t worry,” you smile at him, and before he has a chance to reply, you disappear behind the glass door with a pep in your step. 

Renjun finds himself sighing– now is the moment when he should realistically get relief, the moment when he’s supposed to relax for at least a second and prepare himself for whatever might happen in your dorm room– but when he slowly walks over to the left wing of the building and squints at the dark squares of windows, he wonders how in the hell he’s gonna climb in. Escaping out will be an easy task– the windows aren’t that high up– but coming in will be the problem. He guesses it’s the same with the whole situation– he bets the easiest part of the whole evening will be jumping out and running to his own room– how to survive the night in your presence and not go completely insane, he doesn’t know and wishes he had a manual to before he agreed to do this in the first place.

When the light goes on in one of the rooms and you wave at him from the inside, he finds himself involuntarily jogging towards the window, gears in his brain turning faster than the speed of light when he reaches the wall and you grin at him, opening the window and offering him your hand. 

“If you grip the edge of the window and give me your hand, you can get in easily,” you say, watching as the boy cautiously looks around himself and scratches the back of his neck, mentally calculating his next movements.

“Have you done this before?”

“No,” you bashfully shake your head, “but my roommate did it twice, so I don’t think it’s that hard,” you note and nod at him, waiting for him to finally take action. 

Renjun finds himself doing what he’s been told– and even though he huffs and almost falls over to his back (which would kill him, he thinks, since his physique is very close to a turtle’s), victory fills his veins when one of his legs finally ends up in your window, his body stumbling forward and almost toppling you over when the warmth of your room welcomes him as he lands on top of your desk. 

“Welcome,” you laugh at him when he shakes his head in disbelief and takes off his coat, dropping it on top of the wooden table and watching you close the window behind him, so the cold doesn’t get in. 

“That’s one way of inviting guests over, I guess,” he teases you, watching as you roll your eyes at him and go over to one of the beds. Renjun notices the room is different to the one he shares with Donghyuck– you and your roommate have two beds instead of a bunk one, the table is right under the window and you get a little more space over-all. You turn on the little lamp kept on your bedside table, and the boy watches you with interest as you cautiously walk around your own room as if it’s your first time seeing it, reminding him a little of a deer in the headlights, clueless and suddenly out of ideas.

Renjun finds himself laughing at your behavior– he finds himself endeared by it, the way you play with your fingers in nerves and try to think of anything to do in the intimacy that suddenly envelopes you when you invite someone over to your dorm room in the middle of the night– and when you aimlessly end up standing in front of him, your big eyes even bigger and glossier than before, he snickers at the state of you and shakes his head.

“Okay, so I know I was the one who invited you over, but now I’m kind of helpless in what we should actually do and all…” you giggle, a little embarrassed when you bear your eyes into his, your body subconsciously slotted in between his legs, his position leaning on the edge of the table allowing you and inviting you to do so. 

“You’re cute,” he laughs at you, and before you have a chance to question him about the compliment, he has you silenced abruptly by his next actions.

“What do you–”

His hand is gripping your jaw and he leans into you, the newly found courage and affection towards you having him drunk on more than the alcohol, but also your whole presence– the way your hair smells when he’s this close to you, the way you pull the sleeves of your sweater further down when you don’t know what to do with your hands, the shyness in your gaze now that you have him in your cage– and his lips act on themselves when they press themselves against yours, soft but firm, tasting the strawberry juice mixed with vodka off your mouth, a surprised gasp against his lips more than enough to invite him even further in.

He feels your fingers tugging at his shirt and your skin growing hot under his touch, leaning back from you a little and finding you looking at him with a thousand different galaxies in your eyes, enough of a confirmation to him, but he’s a man– he still needs it vocally, when he grins lazily at you. “Was this one of the things you thought about when you invited me over?”

“Maybe…” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, a clearly battled grin trying to settle its way onto your lips.

“You should’ve just said so, then,” he smiles when he leans into you again, a little more confidently this time and kisses you again, again and again.

You stay under the window for a while, lips pressed hard against each other as you try to learn the curves of each other’s mouths by memory, lazy hands threaded into his hair and an arm around your waist now, steadying you in place. Foreheads pressed against each other when you break away for air, giggles resonating through the room when his lips make their way towards your neck and the softness of his hair tickles your skin, fingers threaded when you tug him towards your bed and you watch him kick his shoes off before you follow him onto the soft mattress.

His head falls into your pillow and you straddle his lap, your hair falling into your face when you look down at him from your position, the newly found dominance in your position charging you with unexplainable energy, and Renjun can’t help but smile at you sweetly when your eyes meet and you eagerly lean down towards him, fingers once again intertwined with his, hands laying next to his head. Your breath fans his swollen lips that you once again find yourself attacking, the contact overwhelming you and making it hard to breathe. Who knows how long the both of you have wanted to do this but never had the courage to– it’s a miracle that it’s even happening tonight.

And with the built-up desire, you act instinctively– hands breaking away from his when you grip his cheeks and give him one last peck, lips now traveling down his jaw and neck instead, having the boy shivering under the contact, your actions slowly but surely driving him crazy when you find his sweet spot and you get a satisfied gasp from him, a reward for your tonight’s efforts.

His hand grips your hip, and something about the burn of his fingers even through the fabric of your jeans makes you move on instinct, earning yourself a sharper hiss this time that doesn’t make you stop, however– quite the opposite, actually– as you break into a wide grin at the very evident effect you have on him, your movements slow and painful, but still having him harden under you.

Goosebumps appear all over your skin when his cold fingers capture the skin of your stomach when he aimlessly tries to find a place in your body to ground yourself, but the more he answers to your movements, the more encouraged you get. He tugs you back down so you’re facing him, which does nothing to halt your painful pace as he drags out yet another kiss from you. 

“If we don’t stop now, it’s gonna be really hard for me to do so later,” Renjun huffs into your ear, which only gets you more excited.

“Who said I want to stop?” you ask him, fingers trailing up his side over his shirt, yet still making him fire up and flush in his cheeks. “Do you want to stop?”

“Do I look like I wanna stop?” he snickers, shaking his head in utter disbelief, hand traveling dangerously close to the cup of your breast.

“Let’s continue, then,” you muse, peeling yourself off him only the slightest amount, hands dragging themselves down his body until you reach the waistband of his pants, gently dragging the fabric down until he’s left in front of you only with a tent in his underwear, big eyes curiously and breathlessly watching you in your actions. He could be a gentleman and tell you you don’t have to, tell you to stop and come back up and that he will pleasure you first, but the more he watches you as you palm him over the thin fabric of his boxer briefs with the dangerous doe eyes of yours, the less he wants to do just that. In all reality– who is he to deny a blowjob from you? Or anyone, for that matter?

His whole body shudders under your touch, actions careful, but so painfully satisfying. Renjun watches your face with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the reality of it all sobering him up and making him aware of each shift of your body, each centimeter your fingertip travels against his skin, each motion that slowly makes a bundle of nerves appear in his stomach. It only gets too much for him when you lean on your elbows, nails gently pricking the skin of his thighs as your mouth hesitantly greets his dick, and he feels like a virgin again when his eyes peel off you just in case he finishes just by watching you blowing him off like a highschooler at his first blowjob, forcing himself to watch the ceiling instead.

Eyes traveling all over your room– the closed window opposite of him, the bed on the other side of the room, the walls above your bed– he gets lost in the galaxy drawn on a piece of paper that’s plastered right above your pillowcase, and another graphite sketch of eyes bearing right into your soul, as if they were watching him in the act, and another one, of a deer that looks through the shade of the trees, before it hits him.

“Oh my god what the fuck–” he gasps, and his tone must have sounded too different to the satisfied moans that have been spilling out of his mouth up until now, because you abruptly stop your movements and your gazes lock, your eyes completely mortified.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“Oh– Oh god no, fuck, you’re doing amazing, trust me,” apologies spill off his tongue at your distressed state, “it’s just– where… where did you get these?” he asks, pointing towards all the drawings taped all over your walls that he failed to notice in the heat of the moment before.

“Oh,” you cluelessly hum, eyebrows furrowed, “I found them spilling out of a trashcan close to the boy’s dorms when I was walking to class one morning, and they were so pretty I had to take them.”

“I– you like these?” Renjun asks, full of strange surprise and genuine curiosity. You’re now sitting back on your heels and looking at the boy with big eyes, still slightly clueless and very much in a weird state of distress– because why would a man ask you about the random artwork on your wall in the middle of a mindblowing blowjob?– before you nod with a slight pout, agreeing.

“Well, I wouldn’t have decorated my room with them if I didn’t like them, y’know… Why are you… why are you asking?”

“Oh,” Renjun repeats again, a dumbfounded look taking over his soft features before he sits up on the bed and scoots closer to you, a weird sense of euphoria spilling out every vein of his body when the held-back dopamine is released into his system. A wide grin appears on his lips before he stares into your eyes with a milky way mirroring behind his eyeballs, glittering orbs haphazardly gliding over your face before he reaches your lips again, pecking them one, two, three times before you break away and look at him with furrowed eyebrows, a slight crease right in between them.

“What are you–”

“I think I’m gonna literally cum just at hearing those words, Y/N,” he blurbs out before he kisses the tip of your nose again, completely endeared and close to a happy boy under the Christmas tree, and while you may enjoy that look on him, you’re still slightly confused. Huang Renjun sighs almost a little too dreamingly and smooths the wrinkle between your eyebrows with a careful swipe of his thumb, still not giving you any explanation.

“Renjun, I’m afraid I’m not quite following why this is so important to you right now,” you mumble, having your partner laugh airly– just as if all his worries escaped through the window and you fixed his life with a few drawings plastered on your wall.

“Those, dear Y/N,” he points towards the papers stuck to your walls, eyeing the specific one he worked for 3 hours on and kind of mourned the morning after he realized he threw it away, months of practice and art that maybe wasn’t even that bad in the first place ending up in the trash because of a fit of rage, “are all mine. Mine as in, I drew them… And then threw them out in the middle of a slight mental breakdown.”

You look at him for a few heartbeats, eye contact never breaking before you avert your gaze towards the artwork on the walls– it takes you a few seconds before it hits you– and you gasp, hurriedly looking back at the artist in front of you, stars glimmering in your eyes now as well, matching his excitement. “Oh my god, are you for real?”

“Yeah.”

“You drew all of these?”

“Yeah,” he nods again, breathless.

“This is an insane coincidence,” you snicker, and Renjun didn’t know he had it in him– maybe it’s still the effect of alcohol that slips off his tongue when he speaks– but he cages you in his arms as he kisses you again, a whole new world appearing in front of him when the cheesiness meets the comfort of your walls.

“You’d call this a coincidence?” he hums. “Maybe it was fate.”

Earning himself a sharp laugh, almost mocking him as you swat his shoulder, you fall back with him towards the mattress, and while the heated moment might be gone, you don’t mind at all. Renjun looks at you with a certain softness in his eyes, a pride swelling in his chest, and for a moment, it’s true and you truly did open up a new reality for him and changed his life forever, fixed all of his problems, if you will, because the appreciation it takes for a girl to tape up at least 20 of his messy artworks onto her wall after finding the stash in the trashcan on her way to class might just be the encouragement he needed to keep going with the craft. 

It’s hard to believe that this shitty party actually brought him somewhere– not only to your bed, but also to your life, to a beginning of something new and a restart in something he thought he’d forever be giving up on.

“So… Do you need those back? Because I kinda like them here,” you giggle, and the crinkle of his eyes is enough of an answer to you.

“You can keep them. I’ll just draw new ones you can look at,” he muses, stealing another kiss from you and squeezing your hip, having you squeal against his mouth.

“Now, to get back to what we were doing before–”

[sorryheartt]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ hand placement while making out . . . ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, suggestive, mentions of sex, hair pulling, marks and hickeys.

author note: hi!, this is my first time writing, english is not my first language so if any mistake please tell me. I accept requests!!

۶ৎ Mark - thighs ‹𝟹

Mark already likes your thighs, but when you're making out and you sit on his lap, he really loves it. The way you open your legs and have your thighs all for him? He goes crazy. He’s not much of a hips guy; instead, he keeps his hands firmly on your thighs—if you let him. Now imagine riding him… oh, he’s going to completely lose his mind.

۶ৎ Renjun - neck ‹𝟹

The way Renjun holds the back of your neck while he kisses you so deeply? Yeah, he’s insane for you and doesn’t even realize it. For him, your neck is like a masterpiece, his personal artwork. The number of marks and hickeys he can leave on you is uncountable. And later, he loves running his fingers over them and admiring his "work."

۶ৎ Jeno - back ‹𝟹

If you arch your back while he’s kissing you, Jeno will go feral. His pride will shoot through the roof seeing how much his girl is enjoying herself. He might not admit it, but he secretly loves it when you scratch his back while making out. You’re always worried about hurting him, but truth is—it drives him absolutely crazy.

۶ৎ Haechan - boobs ‹𝟹

Haechan? He doesn’t even try to hide it. His hands are always on your boobs, like they’re gloves made to keep his hands warm. Give him one kiss, and he’ll already have one hand on your chest. He loves how soft they are and how much his touch affects you. Honestly, it drives him wild.

۶ৎ Jaemin - hips ‹𝟹

For Jaemin, your hips don’t lie—and he loves it. Watching the way your hips move during a heated makeout session makes him obsessed. He loves placing his big hands on your hips, feeling your curves, and holding you close as you move. To him, it’s intoxicating.

۶ৎ Chenle - hair ‹𝟹

Chenle already loves playing with your hair, running his fingers through it, or gently scratching your scalp. But during a passionate makeout session? When he has his fingers tangled in your hair and accidentally pulls it, making you moan? He’ll lose all sense of control. Forget about his pride—he’s completely gone at that point.

۶ৎ Jisung - ass ‹𝟹

For Jisung, your ass is like the perfect stress ball—soft, addictive, and irresistible. Even while making out, he still asks for permission before touching it, and it’s because he respects you so much. But the moment you say yes? Imagine his hands all over you, squeezing and exploring. Yeah, he loves it—a lot.

strawberry silhouette by irene . . .

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

LEARNING CURVES (M)

★  PAIRING: 00 line x Reader (ft.Mark)

☆ WORD COUNT: 23k

★ GENRE(S): Pure Smut

☆ SUMMARY: After a negative sexual encounter in high school, fear and reluctance hold you back from exploring new experiences. However, a friend offers advice that shifts your perspective, suggesting that perhaps all you need is some practice to improve and feel more confident in trying new things outside of your comfort zone. You would need a lot of practice.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Multiple sexual acts, unprotected sex, orgy, cursing, choking. Literally just sex.☆★ NOTES: I had some fun writing this, shout out to my friend for literally living this life. You made dreams come true.

You loved being able to catch up with your friends; it was rare you got to see them nowadays with your conflicting schedules and new adult responsibilities. By now, you were all grown up, having traded in your sibling-shared rooms for an open loft and independence. You lived alone, and while at times it can feel lonely, you really enjoyed the time to yourself. Spending time alone would allow you to learn more about yourself.

Today, after debriefing with your friends about their sex lives, you discovered that yours is about as dry as the Nevada desert. 

Your friends occupy the living room space of your new loft. You had been in your new home for about a month when they decided to come over for a housewarming party. With Jisung's tall, lean frame stretched out on the couch, everyone else had to make room on the floor. Being a lightweight. He ended up knocking out before anyone else. Your friends Chenle, Yang Yang, Yuna, and Mia surround you on the floor. Your not sure how the conversation got started, but everyone was recounting embarrassing sexcapades from the past. 

“And then he fell asleep on top of me after finishing. He was practically crushing me; I thought I was gonna die,” Yuna laughs hysterically at the memory. 

The idea of your friend experiencing that makes you shudder. Your other friends laugh along easily. The empty alcohol bottles that decorate your carpet and countertops can only indicate one thing: everyone was off their ass drunk. There was easy conversation, unceasing laughter, and smiles so big they hurt your cheeks. 

The stories continue on, and you’re enjoying the time you get to spend together. Yanyang tells you about some girl he went home with after class one day and how she could only get off if he was wearing a cat headband. 

“So you pretended to be her kitten the whole time?” Mia asked with a laugh. You could tell she was getting a kick from the mental image of Yangyang purring like a kitten.

“It was hot, actually!” He protests.

"Well, I thought this story was supposed to be embarrassing? You’re in to petplay, big whoop?” You chime in.

"Well, it only got weird when she started calling me Mr. Whiskers,” he groans out of anguish at the memory.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were practically weeping at this point. “MR.WHISKERS??”

“There's no way! Tell me you left!” Chenle adds,

“I had to see it through” Yang Yang shakes his head before shrugging. “What about you, miss lonely? Any stories? Don't think we haven't noticed how quiet you are” Yang Yang targets you.

You feel a chill down your spine, like a bucket of ice water was just dumped over you. Although they were more of the second-hand variety, your friends did have some embarrassing stories. They weren't the ones that embarrassed themselves, and that intimidated you a little from telling your own story. Yours had been so embarrassing that you refused to try anything sexual since then. You felt like they wouldn't understand.

"Well, I haven’t really done much.” You say. You wanted to avoid the conversation.

“Oh come on, what about Doyoung? You two didn’t do anything?” Yuna asks.

“No, Well, not really” You could feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment. This was why you didnt want to talk about it. Your lack of sexual experience was probably the reason he broke up with you.

“I've only ever given head, and it was really bad,” you finally admit.

"Well, come on. It was your first time; you can’t beat yourself up about it,” Yuna encourages.

It was back in high school; you had been dating Doyoung for a few months, and you were both ready to take the next step in the relationship. You were too afraid to go too far, so you offered to just give him head. 

You should have known better than to try to sneak away at school, but you were young and foolish. Things took a turn for the worse after you and Doyoung slipped into a supply closet in between classes.

You were both really inexperienced and only knew sex from porn. You were overly cocky in your abilities, and so was he. When you first put him in your mouth, you didn't mind your teeth at all. You used too much saliva, making everything too messy. He couldn't get hard at all, so it was hard to stroke it, and so you were just awkwardly flailing your wrist on his length. He wasn't that big, and you thought that maybe if you took him farther down your throat, he would feel better. Big mistake. 

You swore it barely touched the back of your throat, but you had just finished lunch like 30 minutes prior, and honestly, the unfamiliar taste of his precum was making your stomach turn a little. The next thing you know, your throwing up on his shoes.

“And then the janitor walked in, and he had to help clean up my throw up” You finish your story, hands cringing at your sides.

Your friends had listened intently through the whole story without interrupting once. You finally look up from your lap to scam their reactions.

Chenle was biting his lip, holding back a laugh for his dear life. Yuna was trying her hardest to look serious as she nodded her head in understanding, but you could see the tears in her eyes that threatened to fall from how hard she wanted to laugh. Yangyang and Mia were fully turned around; all you could see was their shoulders shaking.

“THIS IS SERIOUS!” you whine in aggravation. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. The previous silent laughter turned to full-blown cackling. They were so loud, it made Jisung stir on the sofa.

You pout and cross your arms, trying to shrink yourself away. Thinking back on it after all these years, it was funny now, but it had really taken a toll on your self-confidence. You couldn't even get Doyoung hard, and after he broke up with you, you found it hard to try again. You had dated a few other guys here and there, but the moment they tried to get more physical, you got cold feet. You were a virgin, but if you wanted to be technical, you lost your virginity to a fence in the 5th grade while trying to climb a fence. You had slipped and fallen hard on the fence. You didn't realize it at the time, but the blood in your underwear that day was caused by your hymen breaking, not a deep cut from the fence you couldn't find. 

Your friends finally calm down after they see you not laughing along. "Hey, we're sorry,” Mia apologizes “Does it still bother you?”

"Yes,” you say

"Jeez, its been years; you really haven’t had any better experience than that?” Chenle says

“You always know exactly what to say,” you say dryly. 

“What he meant to say was you were young and that was a long time ago; you shouldnt beat yourself up about it.” Mia glares at Chenle.

“I guess,” you shrug unimpressed 

"Well, practice makes perfect so your not gonna get better if you do nothing,” chenle says

This time, you shoot him a glare at his brutal honesty.

That's how you find yourself downloading Tinder. You had thought about it over the next few days. Your friends were all grown up and living their best lives, and you were still stuck on something that happened in your freshman year of high school. Years had passed, and you needed to move on. Maybe Lele was right? Maybe all you needed was to go out and keep falling until you could stand up on your own. Clearly, they had had their fair share of embarrassing stories, and it had helped them grow. You had a lot of growing to do if you were going to make up for the last few years.

You make your profile very simple. You add a few cute photos; nothing risky because you’re still afraid you might run into one of your friends on the app, and you would just die if they found your account. 

You add the description of “just looking for fun” and hope you can cast your net wide enough to catch someone promising.

You swipe for about half an hour until you get tired. You had a lot of planning to do. Chenle probably didn't mean it literally, but that's how you were going to take it. 

You knew nothing about being intimate or physical with someone, but you were quite bookish. Instead of love and companionship, you were drawn towards studies and literature.

If there was something you didn't know, you would just crack it open and study its insides. That is how you would approach this; you would treat it as an equation that, with a little bit of study, you could solve. 

Practice makes perfect...

Practicing math makes you a mathematician

Practicing science makes you a scientist

Practicing law makes you a lawyer

So technically speaking, if we follow the trend,  if we recognize the pattern...

Practicing sex makes you a sexist? 

Ok no, but you get the point. With practice, you should improve.

Your phone dings, and you smile at the message you got “What kind of fun are you looking for?”

Renjun was his name, and you had made plans to meet with him this weekend. In between classes and work, you made time to prepare yourself to meet Renjun. You had spoken to him briefly through text. You had told him that you were inexperienced and were only comfortable with giving head. He told you not to worry and that he was more than okay with that.  

First things first: you had to deal with your first bully if you wanted to move past your past and loosen its hold on you. The thing that made you insecure, the thing that kept you up at night, you had to overcome.

THE BLOWJOB

You had prepared for this day all week. You read article after article of different techniques to try. You had gone through a whole 18 pack of popsicles, and by the 10th one, you had finally managed not to gag when you reached the last color. You couldn't quite pat yourself on the back yet; you weren't sure if you were getting better or if you had just frozen your tonsils. Today, you would find out, though.

You nervously clutch your phone as you shoot him a text letting him know you were outside. He buzzes you in, and you make your way up to apartment 0323 on the third floor. When he opens the door, you can't help but return his smile. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but this cover was really pretty. 

Renjun just had a welcoming aura that made you feel comfortable. When you come inside, he asks if you want anything to drink, and he shows you where his bathroom is in case you need it, making you feel at home. After he does a short walk through, he leads you back to the living room, and you both sit on his couch.

“This is a really nice place,” you comment, awkwardly unsure of what to say “Do you have roommates?” His apartment was very large; you noticed it was on the nicer side of town, and you saw at least 4 bedrooms.

“Yeah, but I kicked them out tonight,” he says before eyeing you up and down “I want to take my time with you” 

Your skin instantly heated up at his bold words. The kind man who had smiled and welcomed you into his house might have been a fox.

“I've only ever done this once before, and I'm not really sure if I’ll be any good,” you say, unable to hold his eye contact. 

“Its ok baby; I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he says softly “You wanna sit closer so I can see your pretty face?” He says it gently. 

You scoot closer so that your thighs are touching. “There's my girl,” he says, and you can feel your heart rate pick up at the praise. He doesn’t look away from you once; his piercing stare makes you feel shy.

Your eyes are glued to your hands, folded politely in your lap, and when he reaches out to intertwine his with yours, you wonder if he can feel the way your hands tremble in his grasp.

“Are you scared? Why are you shaking baby?” he asks sweetly, using his other hand to caress your cheek soothingly. “Don’t be afraid, baby we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do” He strokes your face for a bit longer before lightly gripping your chin and pulling you to finally face him “Do you want to do this, baby? Let me hear your pretty voice”

His compliments twist at your heart again, and it feels like you’re under his spell. He spoke to you in a way that was sweet like honey; it made you want to comply with everything he asked of you. 

He smiles at the dopey look on your face when he calls you pretty “You like it when I talk to you like that? Hmm pretty?” Still not brave enough to take a full sip from you without your permission, he pecks the corner of your mouth. "You have to answer me, or we can't have fun." 

You nod lazily, and you try to chase his lips when he pulls away. 

he pulls back "words," and his eyes look glazed over as he stares at your lips.

“Yes, I want this,” you whisper breathlessly 

He kisses you gently, barely allowing you to savor his taste, before he pulls away again. “Let's take it slow, ok? I got you; just follow my lead,” he says, inches away from your mouth. You nod impatiently and surge forward again, claiming his lips against yours. 

You were really eager; you didn't realize how touch-starved you were until tonight. You were pressed heavily against his side as you worked your lips over his. It was a very sloppy kiss, but you loved every second of it. His lips were so soft, you couldn't help but groan against them. 

You felt a rough hand against your sternum until it traced up towards your neck. His finger tips barely grazed the skin of your neck. He caressed you there for a moment before his grip turned firm, and he pushed you back just enough to get your attention. You whine in disappointment, and he kisses the pout on your lips.

“I said slow, baby I’m not going anywhere,” he says softly. He tries to keep things light so you don't become discouraged. “You taste so good; I want to savor it,” he soothes with praise.

He spoke in a way that made your stomach do backflips. You nod and take a deep breath. You wait patiently for him to lean in and allow him to take the lead. He kisses you slowly and sensually. You can fully understand what he meant earlier when he said he wanted to savor it. There was something about his slow, almost lazy kisses that had you gripping his thigh. He slips his tongue inside your mouth and strokes against yours. You gently suck on his tongue, matching his energy. When he pulls away, you have trouble catching your breath. 

“like that, ok? you try now” 

You lean in and kiss him, copying all the things he did to you before pulling away.

Your eyes were completely glazed over at this point. Your body was loose, all tension from before evaporating. His kisses were like liquor.

“Good baby,” he says.

You were ready for more, so you sank off the couch until you were situated between his legs. He doesn't say a word while you buckle his belt, holding your eye contact as you discard it to the side. He helps you by pulling his pants down his thighs before pulling himself out of his briefs. He stood in front of you completely hard, and your heart feels light. 

You did it! He was hard, and all you did was kiss. first obstacle overcome! You smile dopely at him, and he returns the look with a soft smile before caressing your cheek. 

“What are you so happy for, baby? Want it that bad?” He says this, stroking himself languidly.

With your new-found confidence, you shoo his hand away and grip the base.

step one… firm grip

step two… pump and suck

or was it suck then pump?

You tried to remember the articles you had read, but it was like your brain was short-circuiting.

“Relax, baby, don't think about it.” He pats the top of your head soothingly “Open your mouth,” he guides. You do as he says and wait for the next command, “stick your tongue out”

You stick out your tongue and slap the length lightly against your fat tongue before pulling it off and licking from the base to the tip again.

You lick at the underside of his tip before kissing it. “Is this ok?” you ask shakily. From the way his breath picks up slightly, you suppose your off to a good start.

"Baby, you are doing so good for me. "Just like I taught you, take it slow," he says, panting a little. 

You give him a nod, then glance back at his lovely pink tip. You suck on the tip experimentally, being extra cautious of your teeth. When you pulled up, you massaged the head with your tongue. You get comfortable, and soon your ready to take more. You slip down further on his length and stroke what you cannot fit in your mouth. His cock had a slight curve to it, and you were hesitant to go deeper. You didn't account for that with the straight popsicles you would suck. You stay within your comfort zone and work him as best you can. You start twisting your wrist at his base, and when you come up for air, you drag your hand up, chasing your mouth, to twist your wrist at his tip. This causes him to let out a moan.

“Just like that, baby, you’re doing so good” 

The praise goes to your head, and before you can second-guess yourself, you suck one of his balls gently into your mouth. the way his hips jerk up suddenly scares you. you think you did something wrong but he immediately encouraged you. 

“Keep your eyes on me, baby; im close” 

You kiss your way back up the shaft until you take it back into your mouth. you moan around his length and he shudders. 

“That's right, baby, almost there,” he says, his voice thick with arousal. You feel his hand at the back of your neck as it gently guides you up and down. “do you trust me?” he asks

You nod subtly, trying not to scrape him with your teeth. “Breathe in deep,” he tells you as he lifts you off his length.

You take a deep breath, and you know what is coming. You practiced for this. You were ready.

He guides you back down his length. Slowly sinking you down, forcing you to take more of him as he hits the back of your throat. Your eyes tear up immediately, and your hands move to grip at his thighs. Your nose is tucked into his abdomen as you deep-throat him. 

Yes! You were doing it! This wasnt so-

You cough violently after a few seconds of having him down your throat, and he pulls you up immediately. You catch your breath, trying to contain your harsh coughing fit. Renjun is stroking himself in front of you, and you open your mouth again, letting him stroke over your tongue. 

Without warning, he finishes all over your lips and face. You lick at your lips, tasting the mess. It tasted salty and bitter

It was a long day; you didn't have any courses today, but you'd just finished a lengthy shift and wanted to relax. Soft music fills your home while you give yourself the princess treatment. You really needed to relax, so you lit a few candles. 

When you get home, you take a hot bath. You had filled the tub with bubbles, which reached your neck as you sank down into it. 

Only when there was a knock did you realize there was a body in the doorway. You nearly leap out of your skin, only to discover it was Chenle. 

“What are you doing in my house” you heave in a breath, trying to calm your heart.

With a playful hop onto your countertop, he mocks you, "Spare key." You feel at ease in his company despite being nude; Chenle was more like a brother to you. The bubbles were pretty dense, so you doubted he could see anything. “Had to do a welfare check; you werent texting back in the groupchat”

“I've been busy,” you say hesitantly. You hadnt told your friends about your escapades. You were too nervous, and you definitely knew they wouldn't like the idea of you meeting up with strangers in the middle of the night.

“Your hiding something,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you

"Well, I am in the middle of taking a bath,” you joke.

“Not what I mean,” he says, rolling his eyes “what have you been up to, you sneak”

You gave a deep, heavy sigh. Lele was the kind of person who would dig until he found the truth, so it was best to just tell him. You spare the two of you the hassle.

“I took your advice.”

“My advice?”

“Yeah, on practicing... you said I should practice if I wanted to get better.”

“I was wondering why you had three twelve packs of bombpops in your freezer” Lele tilted his head with a nod.

“So I did, and... I hooked up with someone” You sink further into the tub until only your eyes are visible above the bubbles.

“Tell me everything; I want every detail.” A Cheshire grin spreads across his face as he smiles at you, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Honestly, you have been dying to talk to someone about this. You tell him how you met Renjun through Tinder, how sweet he was, and how comfortable he made you. Chenle is leaning forward, nodding along with everything you say, fully immersed in your story. It wasn't until you finished that he let out a shocked chuckle.

"Wow, baby bird has finally left the nest,” he jokes, “so whats next? You're going to keep seeing this guy?”

You liked Renjun, but you weren't ready for a relationship just yet, especially after only swallowing his dick. You aren't done with your expirations yet. You still had to find your other test subjects. You reasoned that including a variable would help you assess how much you were progressing and if you were truly improving. Renjun was nice, but it was almost time for someone new.

“Maybe. I dont know. Im not really ready for a relationship”

“Are you just looking for something fun?”

Precisely

Although he told you a thousand times that you did an amazing job, you still weren't satisfied. You could hardly take him down your throat. You would need more practice if you were going to be able to take on something bigger one day. 

You had been training your gag reflex lately; this would decide if you were ready to move on to the next stage. You had looked up somewhere that practicing on a banana might get you used to the natural curve of a penis, but when it broke off into your throat and you almost choked on it, you decided to play it safe and stick to your ice pops. At least those would melt before you choked and died. You could stand proud the next time you see Renjun. 

He buzzed you up like last time, and your steps were a little lighter as you bound up his stairs for the second time.

“Hey pretty, are you ready for another lesson?”

This time, as he brings you in, he takes you directly to his bedroom. You get a little nervous; you weren't ready for that yet.  He notices your tense shoulder and laughs softly. “Calm down; we’re not doing anything like that. I just wanted you to be comfortable,” he explains

You relax and follow him as he crawls into his bed. His room was very... Renjun, or at least what you thought Renjun to be like. Ambient mood lighting casts a gentle golden glow throughout his space. He was very clean and ordered, and his room had an overall calm and cozy vibe to it. 

He got comfortable against his headboard, and as you positioned yourself in between his legs on your stomach. His bed sheets smelled like fresh laundry, and it was like you were lying on a cloud. You prop yourself up on your elbows and begin working. You are grateful that things with Renjun were strictly business. You hated small talk, and this dynamic would make things less awkward in the long run. You reach forward and are about to pull him out of his shorts when he stops your wrists short. 

“You gotta work me up, baby, not yet,” he explains. 

Slow, steady, and sensual. That's how Renjun liked to move. You were getting better at understanding him. He liked it slow, and he liked it when you teased him.

You trailed your hand up and down his thighs; he was only in some sleep shorts, so you teasingly trailed your hand under the fabric and stroked high on his skin. You pushed up the other leg of his shorts as you laid hot kisses against the skin there. You kissed up his thigh and over his bulge that was starting to strain against his shorts. He was bare under, and just the thought alone had your mouth watering. You had to remind yourself to take it slow.

You trail your hand even higher under the fabric of his shorts until you softly grip his length. You kiss him through the fabric as you softly stroke his hard cock. It was right in front of you, and he was refusing you. You had to squeeze your thighs together as you pictured the way you would finally get to shove his cock down your throat. Your grip tightens at the thought, and his soft moans that now flow from his lips tell you that he's ready for more.

You finally slip him out of his shorts and take him into your mouth. You rest the tip against your tongue as you lazily lick him up. You hold his eye contact as you take more and more of him into your mouth. You hum around him in pleasure as his face twists in pleasure. 

"Fuck, mmm so pretty. so fucking pretty with your mouth full,” he moans "I could watch you all day, just like that baby, just like that”

You could feel that familiar sense clouding your head; you were sinking again. Your thoughts traveled to that special place, and his words alone made you feel drunk. 

Fuck going slow; you needed him down your throat. You pull up to take a deep breath in through your nose and sink down on him again. You take all of him and settle at his base. You look up at him from your position, and you can see his mouth drop open in a silent moan.

He heaves a breath and grips the sheets as you slurp loudly on your way up. You work at his base with a tight fist before sinking back down again. You repeat the motion a few times before you feel his hands collecting your hair up into a ponytail. He uses the makeshift ponytail as a handle to guide you up and down his length. The next time you come down, he holds you still for a few seconds, and you can feel his hips shyly cant up, fucking your throat. You cough hard and smack at his thigh for air. He draws you up, and your wet, tearful eyes meet his. However, a fox returned the stare. The fox he had hidden beneath his sheep's skin was finally showing his teeth. 

“Back down, baby, we're going to make you learn tonight,” he says “Open your mouth”

You obey, and he grips your jaw with one hand while the other brushes his length on your lips before lowering you flush against his pelvis. “Come on, take it. Its all yours pretty,” he grunts, fucking your face until he feels your throat tighten again and he pulls you up. “Breathe, come on, baby we got to get that throat fucked out”

And your down again. He pulls you up and holds your head in place as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth and over your tongue. “Hands off, I got you," was another command.

You snake one of your hands down your front as he uses your throat for his own pleasure. He was so deep down your throat that you never wanted him to pull out. You circle your clit a few times as you get lost in your own pleasure.

“Almost there, look at me,” he cries as his hips begin to stutter so close to release. He brings you down again, and his thighs shake. He was about to pull you up, no doubt to finish on your face, but you refused to pull off. You force him to cum deep down your throat.

You pull off swallowing quickly before you start coughing again. You help him ride it out with a few weak pumps of his cock. You watch him catch his breath as he looks at you with nothing but disbelief in his eyes. 

“How was that? Was that okay? Was I going to fast-”

He sits up and pushes you back onto the bed. He kisses you deeply and moans at the lingering taste of himself on your tongue.

“How about I show you?” He kisses down your body over your clothes until hes settled between your legs. “Let me show you how that felt, please. Let me make you feel good,” he begs

The look he gives you makes you ruin your panties all over again. You had never had anyone touch you like that before but you trusted him.

“Show me”

You conquered the blowjob and then the blowjob conquered you. After passing out in his room, you snuck out the next morning before his roommates woke up. You didn't plan on seeing him again after this and that left you feeling a bit down. There was no time to dwell on it, though. It made you wonder if Renjun was correct in saying you were moving too fast, since after two positive experiences, you were already thinking about exploring further.

Who would be your next target?

RIDING

Renjun was right. Renjun was 100% right. You needed to slow down. 

You wanted to move things along; you were eager to learn more about your own body, so you opted to start small. Well, as little as a 7-inch dildo could be. Although you had never used a toy like this before, you were no stranger to an orgasm. You definitely made yourself come before but you used some shoddy vibrator you got when you were 18 from the back of some edgey store in the mall that had a small adult section. 

You had ordered this toy offline and didn't think it would be as big as it was until you got it in the mail. It wasn't super grithy but the stretch still scared you. Maybe you should have listened to the online forums and started small with 4 inches but at the time, 4 inches didn't sound like a lot. That was less than a five-dollar footlong at subway and you were always still hungry after eating one of those. No matter how much lube you used, no matter how aroused you were, you couldn't take it. You will have to try again later.

You had effectively scared yourself back into a corner. You decided to take a break from your “studies” and focus on school and work. Maybe you just weren't ready to leave your comfort zone yet.

Your life returns to normal for a bit; you work, come home, then sleep. You wake up early for class, go to work, then come home and sleep. You wake up early for class, go out with your friends, come home, and then sleep. It was a constant rinse and repeat of the same things. You had hobbies but none of them were as interesting as the one thing plaguing your mind recently. 

You needed dick, bad.

Against your better judgement, you eventually hit Renjun up again and you guys meet up a few more times. He'd come over to your house the last few times because he complained about not being able to get his roommates out of the house. You loved pleasing Renjun and he loved pleasing you but his tongue and fingers weren't enough for your greedy pussy anymore. You needed more.

You lay in bed one night after Renjun left, having finished another session with you and even though he had made you cum your pussy was still throbbing for more. You knew if you had asked, he would have given it to you, but you wanted to investigate on your own and conduct your own research before diving headfirst into something like that. 

You reach down into your soaked panties and rub at your clit lazily. You squeeze your legs together as your pussy clamps down around nothing. You try to mimic the way Renjun had his fingers shoved knuckles deep in you earlier; you trace at your slit and work in a finger curling it the same way he did. It wasn't enough. You add another one and work yourself up, pumping your fingers pathetically inside and grinding the palm of your hand against your clit. It still wasn't enough, and even adding a third finger still didn't satisfy you. You needed something bigger. You shudder at the thought but pull your fingers out of your dripping cunt. You reach under your bed for your box and set it on your bed before pulling out your new toy. 

“Take it slow; just like I taught you,” you repeat his words to yourself.

You line the toy up to your entrance and coat it in your juices. Your about to push it inside when you decide to play it safe and add more lube. Now that the toy is fully coated, you can get comfortable on your back and ease it inside. Your a lot more relaxed this time than when you first tried. Renjun had already made you cum earlier, and you thank him for his services. You slid the tip in and took more and more until it was at least 2/3 inside. You didn't particularly like the rubbery feel of the dildo; you bet Renjun would feel better nuzzled deep inside you. You imagine him inside of you and its like your body opens up and your able to take the rest. 

You kick your legs open further, spreading them wider. You don't move for a few seconds, getting used to something being this deep inside of you. You found it hard to pull the toy out, your insatiable core clamping down tight onto it. Your able to find a small, shallow rhythm, barely able to pull it out, your back arching as you fuck yourself. You wriggle as you shove the toy in farther—suddenly, seven inches was not enough. Deeper, that is what you wanted. You would need to find something bigger. You grow close but you can't quite take yourself over the edge. You reached down with your free hand and rubbed at your clit. Your essence coats the toy as you topple over and spill all over it. Your bones are tired and you pray that you can wake up on time in the morning. You drag yourself to the bathroom, clean yourself up, and know that when you finally crawl into bed, you will sleep through all of your alarms.

You spend the following few days getting to know your body. You eventually part with your old toy and get a new vibrator—you choose a wand. Toys are expensive; you had no idea till you went shopping for them. There were a ton of beautiful ones. You ordered a gorgeous pink glass one, for which you were really excited. 

The sensation of having something tucked away deep inside you had grown on you, but you still craved more. You could never get over the fact that you were fucking a toy, no matter how lifelike it seemed. You were getting off to plastic when you had already had the real thing at your fingertips once. You were ready for more.

Swiping. You swiped all day long, but no one genuinely intriguing drew your attention. You came to the realization that Renjun was a true blessing. Just as you were about to give up, a promising-looking message appeared on your phone. 

The most gorgeous lips you had ever seen were the first thing you noticed. You knew right away that you needed them all over your body; they looked so soft. Although his profile picture was basic, it did not matter because his face was the main attraction. He had very dear-like features and you noticed the moles that dotted his tan skin. Haechan was definitely someone you wanted to get to know.

“I think theres something wrong with my phone”

“???”

“Your number’s not in it”

"Cornball, your getting blocked.”

“Give me a chance!”

His face demanded that you at least give him a chance to speak, and you did. After talking to him for a minute longer, he was charming. You noticed his quick wit and that immediately drew you to him. He was different from Renjun. He was cocky but not in an arrogant way. He had confidence and thats exactly what you needed. You needed someone to talk you through it and teach you how they liked it and haechan seemed like the guy. You give him the same speech you gave Renjun, about you being inexperienced and looking for someone to learn from. Someone to study. You tell him what you want to improve on, and he texts back shortly after

“I’ll have you riding like a pro in no time, trust me”

You trusted him.

He was late and you were growing impatient. You were waiting patiently in your living room for a text from haechan. He was supposed to be coming over tonight; normally, you prefer going to them because you really dont like letting strangers know where you live but it turns out he went to the same university as you so that made you feel a tad bit better. You had dressed in something simple but effective: your favorite lace camI and matching silk shorts. You even took the time to prep yourself before he got there. On the bright side, if he didn't show up, you could finally try out the pink glass dildo that came in the mail a few days ago. A knock at the door shakes you from your thoughts. 

Although you were just complaining, now that he's here, you start to get a bit nervous. This was the first time you would be having penetrative sex with anyone. You shuffle over to the door in your house shoes and look through your peep hole. Messy black hair was peeking out from under a hoodie as the figure in front of your door scrolled through their phone. You tentatively open your door, not taking the chain off until you can clearly see his face. He looks up at the sound of the door opening and sends you a grin.

“I don’t bite”

“Thats exactly what someone who bites would say”

“Then you would be right”

You shut the door and take the chain off the hook before opening it fully again and letting him in.

He eyes you up and down, drinking in your figure. You do the same and under the light of your living room, you see him in all his glory. You send a quick prayer up to the tinder gods for blessing you again. He was dressed in grey sweats with a black hoodie pulled over his head but boy was he handsome. You take a daring step forward and push the hoodie off his head before wrapping your arms around his neck. Long black bangs fall into his eyes and the way he pears down at you through them has your legs feeling weak already.

“You gonna be mine for tonight?” he asks sultry 

“Just for tonight?” he licks his lips at that.

“Your right, gotta teach you how to fuck me.”

“That could take a while,” you tease.

“Use me for how ever long you need, I’m all yours,” he says 

You pull him down, claiming his lips with yours. You pull his hoodie up and he pulls it the rest of the way off before his hands are creeping up your sides.

In all the ways Renjun poured over you, slow and thick, engulfing you whole like honey, Haechan was brisk and jagged, pulling you every which way rapidly like a river as he flowed through you.

You tried to use what Renjun taught you but that wasn't going to fly with Haechan. You had to learn to adapt to Haechan. He didn't like it slow; he liked to move at a quick pace. If you pull away, he is on you, chasing your lips for another taste. If you stumble back, he's gripping you tight and pulling you closer. Haechan had almost a desperate kind of love. 

You’re finally able to peel off of him and catch your breath and he wastes no time in moving down your body to your neck, kissing and leaving marks for you to find in the morning. His hands slide down your back and grip your ass. He kneads your plush ass before pulling you closer, your front flush to his. He had backed you up into a wall at this point and you suddenly felt him nudge his leg between yours.

"Are you ready for your first lesson?” He says that as he moves one hand back to your hip, he uses his grip to pull you over his thigh. He grinds you down into the muscle and you shudder at the feeling. ”Just like that baby, that's it.”

You follow his lead and weakly grind your hips into his thick thighs. You could feel everything between the thin fabric of your silk shorts, the fabric dampening at the front and the cold press of the cloth against your clit makes you shiver. 

“Like you mean it, come on,” he coos

You pout but grind down harder. You were looking for that praise that Renjun gave you so easily; Haechan was going to make you work for it. 

“There we go bear, just like that, thats my girl,” he says, helping you along until you whine for more. You needed more; you loved his thighs but you brought him here to learn how to ride a dick. 

"Ready for you to bite," you declare, rolling your hips with assurance. 

He tilts his head with a scoff, tongue in cheek. "Suddenly, you can handle it?”

You reach out and pull him to your lips again to shut him up. He continues to grind you down until a patch of your wetness forms against his thigh, until your hips tire and your legs shake. 

He can feel your movements grow weaker and he nudges your forehead with his when you drop your head. 

“Not so tough are we baby? Gotta work on that stamina,” he grins devishly. you send him a fleeting glare. Oh, he was going to work you out. “fix your face; you asked for this, you wanna learn; you better listen” 

You want to argue back but all you can do is slump against his thigh and throw your head back against the wall to catch your breath. Haechan pulls away from you and has to catch you before your legs give out from under you. He leads you over to your couch and sits down. legs spread wide, sitting you on his lap. You straddle his waist and your thighs cramp up.

You groan out and move off to spread your legs out over his thighs, sitting on the couch instead. He snickers at you but works the kink out of your thighs.

"Are you ready to listen now?” he asks and you nod shamfully. “It may look easy but it takes a lot of stamina to ride. You gotta pace yourself, baby.” 

You nod and let out a yawn. He had already tired you out and you hadn't even started. 

“Don't tap out on me yet; come on just a little more and I'll let you rest,” he urges you back on top of him after properly easing out the tension on your thighs. You reluctantly get back on top and relax into his hold. With a mischievous grin, he sits you squarely on top of his bulge.

“If you can hold out long enough to make me cum, next time I'll let you ride it,” he says, kissing your lips before leaning back against the couch, waiting for your next move. You whine and try to lean forward against his chest. You were tired and if you were going to do this, you needed a clutch but he could see right through you. 

“Nu-uh, sit up; you got this.” 

You send him a frown but you start to move your hips none the less. You find a rhythm and pace yourself like he instructed. His hands rest on your hips uselessly, making you do all the work. You brace one hand on his shoulder and the other on his knee as you roll your hips into his. He felt so good pressed up against your center. His eyes were hidden behind his bangs and the sight of him leaning up against the sofa, his head resting confidently on the back of the couch, while a lazy smile played at his lips was making you dizzy. You swivel your hips and his breath picks up. You think he's close with the way he grips your hips loosely now. He's biting his lip, urging you to ride faster and push past the pace you set for yourself. He bounces you in his lap shallowly as he fucks up into you. 

He has to be so close. He has to be because your thighs are starting to feel that familiar but unfamiliar burn as you lose your momentum again. 

“Don't stop, fuck,” he groans. 

He was close; you could see it in the way his back arched off the couch slightly, his breath hitched and his eyebrows pinched, but he didn't finish because you collapsed before he could.

Your breathing is heavy. your heaving chest from exhaustion against his heaving chest from exasperation. You had just unknowingly edged him. 

“I cant, please,” you cry.

He strokes your back soothingly “You did great today, baby. We have all the time in the world for you to get it right,” he reassures.

and you feel better because he was right

You didn't expect Haechan to take his job so seriously. He was committed to having you ride like a pro by the end of the month at the latest. He sent you exercises to help you build stamina and strength while on top. You did your own research as well and found some good stretches to try because you did not want to cramp up again. You did plenty of at-home exercises and you were feeling really good about your improvements. 

You didn't expect the large package that arrived at your door one evening. You surely don't remember ordering anything and when you pull it inside and open the box, your pleasantly surprised. Inside the box sat a teddy bear. The box could barely contain the bear and when you struggled to pull it out, you understood why. The bear was at least 5 feet tall when you laid it out. Deep inside the bottom of the box lies a single card.

For practice <3

       —sunny boy

You roll your eyes and dial “sunny boy.”  The phone rings and then a voice answers. “Did you get your present?”

“You cant be serious; this thing must have cost a fortune! I appreciate the enthusiasm but you really dont have to do this”

“Friends help friends”

“Do you not get pussy or something?” 

“Wierd way of saying thanks but your welcome. Besides, I promised you I’d have you riding in no time,” he says over the line, “FaceTime me; I need to judge your progress”

“Sure you do, pervert”

You send over the FaceTime request and soon you’re looking at the top half of Haechan's face in what you assume to be his bedroom? Aside from his forhead being lit by his phone's light, it was too dark for you to see anything.

“Let me see your pretty face,” you coo

He whines and shifts the camera down more. He was so pretty and you would never get tired of looking at his face. You wish he would stop hiding from you. 

“Enough talking, let's see what you got” Straight forward as always. Oh,  how you adore him.

"Ok, hold up” You put him in your pocket as you haul the giant teddy to your room and drag it up into your bed. You spend the next few minutes setting up your phone and getting the right angle. You were wearing boy shorts and a tank top, which was nearly identical to what you had on when you first met him. 

You suddenly feel shy under the gaze of the camera. You had the front camera facing you so you could still see haechans face and you mounted the teddy and you imagined it was him there under you. You hold his gaze through the lens as you grind down into the toy firmly. You roll your hips sharply and suck in a breath. He watches you intently; you see him rustling about on the screen; you could only imagine what he was doing.

You never thought you could be the dominant type, but when you rode, something clicked, and you loved it. You loved being in control. It felt good to be in charge every once in a while. It was all about you when you were riding.

Your hands travel up the teddy until they wrap around the bear's neck. You held it down in place as you rode it, taking it slow, saving your energy like he taught you. There was no rush when you rode; you controlled the pace. You could hear Haechans muffled moans through the phone and it made your ride a little rougher. Your eyes glaze over as you picture your hands around his pretty neck. You wonder if he would make those pretty noises for you or if he would hide them. Your hips don't stop for a second and you whine at the lack of heat against your skin. Nothing was more satisfying than feeling Haechan's warm body against yours and inhaling his scent. The thought alone had you sticking to your shorts. 

“Show me what your doing,” You dont know what overcame you; you could barely recognize the person who spoke those words, even though they came out of your mouth.

A delicious moan tumbles from his lips as he angles his camera down to show his hand working furiously over himself. He angles it so far down that his face is no longer visible, and you instantly miss the sight of his plump lips trapped between his teeth. “Let me see you, baby. All of you”

He tilts the camera back up and the dazed look he sends you has you clenching around nothing. The way his hips thrust into his palm pathetically has you curling over the stuffed animal as you fuck into it repeatedly. Haechan's head falls back as his mouth hangs open in heavy breaths. He finishes over himself with a shudder. You watch him, sitting up a little straighter and slowing down your hips as you catch your breath.

“How was that?” you ask with a smirk

“5 stars”

You were in a good mood, and nothing could stop the excited skip in your step as you walked. Even your friends took notice of your happy demeanor; they didn’t know what had gotten into you but they hoped it was dick. Well, Lele knew and honestly, you were surprised he hadn't gone mouthing off to the others. 

You are out running errands with Yuna when you get a call from him. You pick up the call in the middle of the grocery store, following behind Yuna and her buggy. 

“Are you ready to hear the best news of your life?” he starts when you answer

You put him on speaker, nudging Yuna to pay attention. She raises a brow, asking who it is without saying a word. "Lele,” you mouth.

“I'm scared,” you finally reply to him. You were in the pet supplies aisle and luckily no one was around. You never knew what could come out of this man's mouth.

“I got you a date with that cute cashier; turns out he's Jisung’s cousin!” 

Yuna sends you a shocked look. She grabs the phone from you excitedly “are you talking about the guy who checked us out last week at that thrift store?” she gushes

You and a couple of your friends went thrifting last week, and when it came time to pay, the cutest guy was there to cash you out. You remember looking at his name tag and remembering his name was Mark. Your friends swore he was checking you out, but you ignored them all. The poor guy was probably just trying to do his job, so you left without asking for his phone number.

“Yuna? Are you guys out right now? No invite, wow,” you hear him pouting on the other line

“You want to help Yuna put up twenty bags of groceries? Be my guest,” you complain. 

Yuna hated going shopping alone, and choosing who to drag out shopping with her next was like playing Russian roulette. 

“Dont change the subject!”

“What? but you did—”

“I gave mark your number and he said he was going to text you so be on the look out!”

You want to be happy. Mark was really cute and he looked so sweet but you still had a hard time connecting with people like that. Before you could answer, Yuna beat you too it.

“Dont worry, I'll be on the look out”

Chenle says something about being late and that he would call later for updates before ending the call. Just when you were giving him props, you should have known he was up to something.

"So, mark huh?” Yuna coos

“I dont know, Yuna, its been awhile since Ive been on a date; i’m really not looking for a relationship right now,” you groan. Your head was spinning with the news. You had a thousand things going through your mind. More stress was not what you needed. You definitely didn't have any time for anyone right now with your studies (not the academic kind) going on.

“Oh please, this iexactlyly what you need! Who said anything about a relationship? Why not just have some fun?”

Funny, it was like those words that started all of this.

You and Mark have been texting on and off for a few days now. He was one of the most down-to-earth people you had ever met, and you had even visited him at work, feigning looking for some scrap fabric for a project for class. You guys had gone on that date that he promised and ever since then, you have grown close with Mark. You wanted to grow closer to him so close that his body was on top of yours. 

You weren't ready yet, though; you still had a few things you wanted to learn. You did end up going on a few more dates with him and one night after a few drinks, things got a little handsy. Nothing explicit happened and ultimately you told him you weren't looking for anything serious at the time. He took it surprisingly well and you two have been chill since. He has broached the topic of friends with benefits with you and you had told him you would be down but you haven't brought it up since. You need more time. When you finally have Mark, you want to give him everything and more. You need everything to be perfect.

You would not mess this up, not again.

Haechan was coming over and you were excited that you could finally take him for a test run. You would think you were training for a marathon rather than sex the way he was training you. Unlike last time, he got there perfectly on time. You had made sure to stretch before hand and when he walked through your door, you could barely get a “hi” in before he was picking you up and wrapping your legs around him.

“I've been waiting for you,” he mumbles, his lips pressed against yours. He kicks your door closed and pins you up against it. 

“Let me make it worth your while then,” you call back and wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

Haechan's kisses make you feel like you were drowning; he stole your breath like water replaces air in your lungs. It was like how waves rocked you peacefully in their embrace until you realized you needed to come up for air. You never wanted to come up for air.

Soon you were on your back, spread out in your bed with him on top of you. His hands were everywhere and he finally took pity on you and pulled away, letting fresh air fill your burning lungs. His kisses move to your neck as skilled hands undress you. You were getting lost in his touch and when you felt your mind slip into that place you sometimes went, that submissive headspace, you knew you had to snap out of it. Tonight was supposed to be your rodeo, not his. You were almost completely naked, save for your panties and he was still fully clothed. You raise yourself onto your elbows, watching him as he kisses you down your body. He kisses your navel before peeking up at you. You grab hold of his hair, pulling him back up to reconnect your lips. You use your lips to distract him before you push him down and flip your positions. 

You straddle his waist and brace yourself on his chest. You smile in victory but all Haechan does is adjust the pillow behind his head before resting his hands beneath it. That stubborn smirk—let's see how long it takes you to whip that grin off his face.

“Im ready when you are sweetheart” 

The first roll off your hips speaks for itself. Slow and firm. You wanted to make him feel it. You can feel him pressing heavily through the fabric of his sweats and you can feel yourself clenching at the thought of him filling you up later. You grind your clothed pussy against him, gripping his shirt in your fist as you work your hips over top of him. The smirk falters a bit as he huffs out a breathy sigh. He's good at taking what you give him; he just lies there and lets you use him, just like you used the stuffed animal he gave you. 

“How am I doing so far?”

“So good,” he says off-handedly, more focused on the way your hips move. You smiled; it was time to give him more.

You slid off of him and he groans at the loss of heat. You help him out of his clothes and he lies before you naked. Your eyes examine his body and you moan at the sight of him. His dick was almost as pretty as his face. You had enough waiting; you wanted him inside. You mount his hips again and line him up with your entrance, coating the tip in your slick. 

“Keep your hands right there; I don't need your help.” You instruct him to keep his hands gripped in the sheets. You wanted to show him you could ride it all by yourself. 

“Fuck me,” he moans impatiently, his hips pushing up slightly, trying to slip through your folds.

"Are you sure there are no other tips you want to give me?” you tease

“I'm trying to give you mine if you would sit down,” he groans.

You grab the base of his length and sink down on top of him. You were so wet, he slipped in easily. You were flush against him—hips against hips. You had to take a few moments to collect your thoughts. He felt so good inside of you. You had never felt so full before; no toy could ever match the feeling of having Haechan stuffed inside of you. You were going to use him until he broke. You steady yourself over his chest again and lift your hips slowly, savoring the drag of him against your walls. You look into his eyes and his brows furrow at the feeling. You drop back down on him harshly. Your thighs tingled in the pleasure but they didn't burn; the exercises had paid off. You set a brutal pace on top of him as you use him. You had practically forgotten he was even there for a second until his loud moans filled the room. You had grabbed a hold of his cheeks, pushing his face into the pillow. You felt an upkick at your hips and you looked down to see his hips thrusting up into yours. You caught his rhythm and matched his pace, giving him everything he gave you in return. You let up on him and gave him space to breathe. His hands are at your waist the next moment and he's gripping tight, helping you fuck onto him. 

“Don't stop, please. Let me do this; I need it,” he begs before his feet are planted on the bed and he's using all his force to pound into you from below. Your mouth drops open and you have to brace yourself on his chest again so you don't fall off. Your hands slip up a little farther and they encompass his neck beautifully. He lay under you, moans tumbling out of his mouth, his hair messy on his forehead, his tan skin damp with sweat and when your hands grip his neck, you think the image it creates against him should be a painting. 

Your eyes daze and your mind slips but this time you don't go to that place that makes you want to give everything up to your last breath. This place is different. This place makes you feel bold and makes you want to take and take until Haechan trembles. This place makes you feel powerful. 

“Fu-fuck baby, please,” he gasps, his eyes rolling to the back of his head breathlessly “Give it to me; fucking use me. Hurt me,” he whimpers the last part. You completely snapped. You don't know who you are; you don't know what this headspace is but it craves the tears that fall down Haechan's face pathetically. 

“Hold still,” you say, pushing at his knees and motioning for him to lay back down flat. You wanted complete control. Your grip tightens and your hips roll sharply over his. So deep, everything feels so much; you feel everything at once and you’re certain your soaking Haechan’s lap. Only now do your thighs burn but now the ache adds to the pleasure. Your so focused on your own pleasure that your grip loosens and as the air rushes back into Haechan's lungs, he feels a high like no other and his orgasm crashes into him. His thighs shake and he orgasms deep inside of you. After a few more harsh flicks of your hips, you cum hard, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You had previously discussed it because he would be the first person you would have inside of you. You had already been on birth control for some time and you had both been checked. You wanted to stay protected. Your not sure if he took your virginity or if you took his with how dazed he looked under you.  

"Look who couldn't handle it” you brag smugly.

“Of course, your amazing. I taught you.”

“So you like being used? You smile, lying down next to him to catch your breath “intersting”

“Don't push your luck; I'll still fuck you better. Make you forget your name.” you core clenches at the thought and you remind yourself to take him up on that eventually

You pack your things, signaling the end of your English lecture. You exit the class with a yawn, having almost fallen asleep during the last half of the class. your walking across campus when you hear a voice call your name. You see Mark a few yards behind you. It turns out Mark also attended your college but only part time so you rarely saw him on campus. You return his smile and you are about to walk over to him when you see another figure moving towards you. 

Renjun? you hadnt seen him in awhile; you had been keeping it casual with him. He goes here too?? Just when you think it can't get any worse, Haechan rounds a corner and spots you too. You had ghosted him after the last time you two hooked up. you did not want to confront him right now. 

There is absolutely no way you just ran into all your hoes at the same time. 

You turn around and flee the scene before anyone can approach you further. You’re speed-walking in the opposite direction now when you run into Chenle and Yuna. “Ask questions later for now, run!” you say, pulling them along.

You don't stop dragging them until you make it to your car. Safe and sound inside, you lock the door and catch your breath. “What the hell was that about you? You looked like you saw a ghost” Chenle tries to calm his breathing, adjusting his signiture shades back into place.

“Was it Mark? I thought I saw him over there. Did something happen between you two?” Yuna asks, letting the passenger seat fall back to lay down and settle her own breaths.

You wish there was something going on between you and Mark, but nothing has happened since the last time you saw him.

“No, not mark, it was something else…or someones else” 

“someones?” she questions

You hated keeping things from your friends; you hadn't meant to keep it from them for this long but you had gotten so caught up in everything that you barely had the time to catch them up to speed. You explain everything. From Renjun to Haechan and to the new guy you recently found, Jaemin. You had moved study subjects already and you felt a little bad for ghosting Haechan like you did after all the effort he put into teaching you but with Mark as your end goal, you were really impatient to get to him.

The car is silent for a few moments, mainly from Yuna’s shock, before she finally decides to speak up. “How in the world did you go from being scared of the thought of dick to getting more dick than me?” 

“That's what your worried about!” 

“If you don’t want them, give them to me”

“YUNA!”

“Joking! I’m joking”

You feel a weight lifted from your shoulders now that you were able to tell Yuna how your life has really been going and what you’ve really been doing. Honeslty, you were getting really sick of replying with “nothing” anytime anyone would ask.

“Wait, why aren't you surprised” Yuna asks Chenle suspiciously.

oh my—

“You did not tell him before me!” Yuna narrows her eyes at you.

“She definitely did,” Chenle smiles. 

“You traitor!” 

“You know how he is! He practically threatened my family,” you say in defense.

You had no tint on your windows so to any onlookers, it probably looked like you guys were having a really heated argument. Everyone was talking at once and fingers were being pointed. The three of you continue to bicker until you hear a knock at your window and the car goes silent as everyone turns to look out the window.

Mark is standing outside your car nervously. “Is everything okay?” His muffled voice barely carries into the car. You roll your window down with a forced smile. This was perfect.

“How can I help you, officer?” You joke.

“I’m sorry, you just ran off earlier and I just wanted to, like, make sure you were ok.” he says, scratching at his face nervously.

“We’ll let you two talk,” Yuna says with a fake smile. Her and Chenle exit the car but not before she sends you a glare that says this isn't over.

After they left, you offered Mark a seat in your car. “Im sorry, I didn't like... interrupt. Did I?” he says awkwardly.

“Oh no, your fine. I’m sorry for earlier; I just realized I had forgotten something in my car. I needed it for my next class” You lie.

“Okay, thats good to hear. I thought you were like avoiding me for a second,” he laughs. “Your really cool and I don’t want what I said about being friends with benefits to ruin our relationship. We dont have to do anything if it makes you uncomfortable ” 

“That's not it at all! I really like you, mark I've just been a little...busy lately. I like the idea of being friends with benefits. Just give me some more time. I can’t really explain now,” you say. 

Out of all the conversations you wanted to avoid, this was definitely the one you wanted to avoid the most. You had no idea how to navigate this conversation. You wanted Mark so badly that it was driving you crazy but you just needed time. You were so close to the finish line that you couldn’t give up now.

“That’s cool, I get it.” He gives you a nod of understanding and he gets ready to leave, moving to open the door with a quick bye, probably needing to get to his next class. You wanted to leave him with something. You had to do something to hold you both over so you didn’t stop the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Before you go, can I have a kiss?” you ask sweetly. Mark just smiles at you and shakes his head fondly before leaning in and sealing your lips with his. 

THE HANDJOB

It was probably a little too late in the game for you to be trying this but somehow your quick pecks turned into heavy petting. Now you had Mark’s dick in your hands. Mark was kissing hotly into your nouth as you stroked him slowly. You twist your hand at the base of his cock, focusing most of your attention there. After a few moments, you feel Mark’s hips shift and buck into your grasp. His hand joins yours and guides your hand higher.

“Don't tease. Please, I need you,” he breathes into your mouth.

When you sucked dick, your hand typically pumped the base. You would concentrate your attention on the areas that your mouth couldn’t reach. Without your mouth focused on the tip, you would have to make up for the lack of contact. You appreciate the information; every moment is a learning opportunity for you. Even now, you were able to gather data for your research.  

You follow his lead and stroke the length of his length, twisting your wrist when you get to his tip. Mark's head falls back and rests against the headrest of the car. You pray no one's eyes wander to your small sedan because, from the faces Mark was pulling, they would no doubt know what was going on. 

Mark's face scrunches up in pleasure and after a few more firm strokes over his cock, he cums. His seed pours messily over your fist. By the end of it, your arm was a little tired but it was definitely worth it.

He gives you a shy smile and apologizes. You reach over with your clean hand and get some napkins from your glove compartment. You assure him one last time that you definitely want to be more than just friends with him and that you will let him know when you’re ready. He left the car with a smile and your glad to have taken care of that because you were late to go meet Jaemin. There was still more you wanted to learn. There were more things you needed to experiment with.

SIZE 

You had actually met Jaemin at a cafe. He sat at the table in front of you, glasses pushed up on his nose as he typed away at his computer. His white hair made him stand out and gave him a soft, rabbit-like appearance but there was something about his face that made him look devastly charming and boyish but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. He quickly stops typing and you notice that he is staring back at you. He sends you a smile and you return it awkwardly. 

Fumbling the bag—I repeat, you are FUMBLING the bag.

You try your best to avoid his gaze again until you finish your own classwork and collect your things. Your leaving the cafe when you notice him in your peripheral vision, trying to get your attention. You thought he was going to tell you off for staring like some creep but he handed you his number instead. Fast forward; now you have a dick appointment.

After some talking and explaining, you give him your usual spiel. You were supposed to meet up with him today right after class but a few setbacks made you late. You finally arrive at the location he had specified, and you are immediately perplexed.

This was Renjun's apartment.

You walk up the familiar steps and hesitantly knock on the door. Your so used to Renjun opening the door that when Jaemin opens it, your slightly taken aback. What the hell was going on?

“Hey, come on in,” he says as you stand there stiff as a board. You shake yourself out of it and step through the door. 

“I'm sorry I was late. Something came up,” you apologize.

“Its fine, my roomates are going to be out for the night so we have the house to ourselves for awhile,” he smiles at you. Just looking at that dazzling smile makes you forget about your internal dilemma.

You would worry about that later; tonight it was just you and this handsome stranger you met.

He leads you to his bedroom and you can't help but notice his room is directly across from Renjuns. You would definitely need a list of his roommates because you refused to find yourself in this situation again. The thought slips from your mind as Jaemin pulls you into his room and shuts the door. 

“Are you okay, angel? You look a little shaken up?” he asks attentively.

"No, its ok, im just stressed about classes. I’m hoping you could help me relax?” you lie smoothly.

He gives you a sly smile and you hold your breath as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “You wont be able to think straight when I’m done with you”

You suck in a breath and your body completely opens up to him as his hands tentatively trail up your waist. He strokes your sides teasingly as he kisses the sides of your mouth before trailing his lips down your neck. His touch was light and soft, like you were a porcelain doll. You try to reach up and hold on to him but he just pulls away slightly and shakes his head.

"Nu-uh, baby hands to yourself until I say otherwise,” he corrects you.

You pout and open your mouth to protest but he grabs your face and holds you in his grasp. “Big girls don’t talk back. Fix your face,” he commands

You swallow nervously and nod your head. He kisses your lips once “Thats my girl”

He took his time mapping out your body with his hands. He was in no rush at all and you had to bite your tongue to hold back your whines. His hands gripped your ass, squeezed your hips, traced your spine and palmed your chest. He examined you with the same curiosity that a child does with a new toy or a scientist does with a new test subject. The tables had been turned. You weren't the one with the magnifying glass now; he was. 

He helped you out of your clothes and you stood in front of him in only your underwear. He turns you away from him before pulling you back against him, your back to his chest. He hooks his chin over your shoulder and you can feel him bulging against his sweatpants. He was huge and the smirk you felt against your neck told you he knew how to use it. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought and when his hands return to your skin, you let out a moan. His hands spread out over your stomach; they were cold to the touch. You arch against him, pushing your hips backwards into his. He sucks in a breath and grips your hips. He holds them firmly before he pushes his clothed length into your ass, grinding against you from behind with a groan. You feel your panties soak up the feeling. You weren't sure if you could take something that big but you would sure put up a fight trying.

One hand travels down over your panties stroking you through the fabric. He coos at you as he feels how wet you are. He pats against the seat of your panites and sure enough, you’re wet enough that your panties make a soft, wet noise upon contact. 

“Is that for me, angel? "Are gonna drip down my cock when I split you open?” he asks with a lazy smile. The things that came out of his mouth never matched the look on his face. He would say the most toe-curling thing so casually with a smile that you would think he was telling you about the weather. Your chest is heaving at this point. You had never played like this before. Was this what he meant when he said he was a dom? 

“Answer me when I'm talking to you, baby. You wanna be my good girl, right?” You whine and nod pathetically. You would do anything for his praise. “Then speak up” 

“Its all yours,” you say breathlessly, hoping that's what he wanted to hear. 

He dips his hand past the waistband of your panties and circles your clit while his other hand holds firmly onto your hips. You throw your head back against his shoulder. He strokes over your slit teasingly before slipping two fingers inside, one after another. Your hips immediately buck up against his palm, or at least they try to but he has you pinned effectively against his hips.

“Dont fucking move; dont fucking make a sound. Just take it,” he rummbles in your ear “Take it”

His knuckles-deep and all you can do is bend yourself forward, trying to escape his grasp but he follows and fucks into you faster. You cry out, your thighs shaking as he curls an arm under your shoulder, using his leverage to pull you back against his firm chest. “Come on baby, if you can’t handle this, you won’t be able to take me,” he says sweetly. 

He hooked his fingers cruelly and you collapsed against him, orgasm whracking through your body. He held your trembling form up like it was nothing. He picks you up and throws you on the bed. You were still in shock as you lay there, catching your breath, your legs still shivering. He held your eye contact form where he stood at the foot of the bed and grabbed the back of his shirt before pulling it over his head swiftly. As he stood in front of you, you saw him for what he really was: he was no rabbit, he was a demon, and you were a fool. He didn't treat you like a porcelain doll; that was just the calm before the storm.

He puts one knee on the bed, starting off towards you and you subconsciously scoot backwards. He sends you that devilish smile and grabs your ankle, pulling you back down the bed until your thighs bracket his hips. 

“Where you running to, angel?” he says

You try to close your legs around him; the press of his hips against yours is already to much.

“Open your legs,” he says patiently. You shake your head defiantly, even though the command makes you even wetter.

He runs a hand through his hair and breathes an exhausted sigh. He pries your legs open, pinning them down as he leans forward over you. He uses a hand to grip your face and pushes his hips deep into yours, pinning them down from squirming. “I don’t like playing with brats so your either going to listen the first time I tell you to do something or I’m going to have to break you in,” he warns.

Your heart was beating out of your chest at his words. This was definitely not the same guy with the nerdy glasses you met in a cafe.

You nod your head in understanding. 

“Use your big girl words,” he says with a peck of your lips.

“Yes sir,” you say. A pleased smile dances on his lips.

“You learn fast,” he praises. That you do.

He captures your lips in the first real kiss of the night and you moan into his mouth as his tongue snakes its way past your lips. You roll your hips up into his and he allows it as he shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss was messy and lazy. You pull back to plead, “Please, I need to touch you. Please let me touch you” 

He waits a moment, like hes thinking about it but he nods and pulls you back into another heated kiss. Being with Jaemin was extremely intimate; he worshiped your body as if it were his only purpose in life. His kisses were dangerous and claiming. He marked your body like you belonged to him and tonight you did.

You rake your hands down his spine, nails digging into his skin as your back arches against him. It was too much yet not enough at the same time. “I need you,” you beg.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve been good for you.”

“Thats right, baby, you have been really good,” he nuzzles at your neck affectialanty “but I need you to be sure”

“Im positive, I want you”

Jaemin kisses you assuringly and pulls down the sweatpants that still clung to his hips. He must not have been wearing any underwear because the heavy sound of his length slapping against his abdomen fills the room. 

Your eyes trail down his body until they reach the sight in between his legs. You take in the leaking tip of his pretty pink cock and the veins that adorn the sides. That thing was supposed to fit inside you. Never in a million years would you have imagined that death by dick could be an option in your life.

“Don't worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he says. He grips the base of his cock and strokes it a few times before lining it up over the top of your belly. It nudged over your navel tauntingly. "I'm going to fill you up until I get here." he says, tapping the length of his cock on your stomach.

No amount of study could have prepared you for this. You came up completely blank on the idea of how this would even possibly fit. He notices the nervous look on your face and kisses your forehead. “Relax, I got you.” 

The tension in your shoulders relaxes a little at the comment. Jaemin seemed like he knew what he was doing. You trusted him enough. 

He gives you a moment to collect your thoughts as he pulls away from you, going to retrieve a condom from his bedside table. You take the moment to steady your beating heart and prepare yourself. When he comes back to you, he has  a bottle of lube and a condom already wrapped around his cock. 

“Are you ready?” he asks finally

"Yes,” you breath nervously.

He uncaps the lube and takes your hand, pouring some in your palm and then some over his length. He guides your hand to his length and you stroke the cold substance over him. You coat him in the lube and your grateful for the quick lesson you had with Mark earlier. You know just how to twist your wrist to get a reaction out of him. He groans softly and lets you have your fun before he pulls your hand away. He lines his cockhead up to your entrance and traces through your folds, nudging at your clit in the process. You moan impatiently. He sends you a frigid look through the fringe of his white bangs, instantly putting you in your place.

You pout but wait patiently as he eases his tip through your folds. Ok, this was fine. This was good. He fucks you with his tip pulling out before pushing his way back in. He fists his cock, coating it in the slick that drips from your cunt. You relax under his ministrations, completely letting him take the lead as he works you up with just the head of his dick. You can tell he must be holding back and you appreciate it.

He continues like this for a while before slyly slipping more and more inside of you each time. You’re at the two-thirds mark before you notice the stretch. You face pinching up in pain and your hands immediately find purchase on his hips, a plea for mercy. Jaemin stills inside of you and takes your hands into his own. His touch was delicate and he brought your hands to his lips. He kisses your fingertips before he kisses your palm. He was giving you whiplash with how gentle yet rough he could be sometimes. He kisses down your arm and up your shoulder. He presses kisses into your neck and over your lips. When he finally pulls away,looking down at you with a smile, you realize that somewhere between his barrage of kisses, he slipped the rest of the way inside. 

“Look at you, wasn’t that easy”

You just stare back up at him in shock. That was not as bad as you thought it would be; you could still feel a slight lingering discomfort from the stretch but that was soon melting away. 

He kisses the confused wrinkle in your brow “just relax baby. Now that the hard part is over, leave the rest up to me”

He pulls his hips back and works them forward experimentally. You shift at the stretch but you handle it well. He massages your thighs as he thrusts into you at a lazy pace, taking it easy and giving you enough time to fully accommodate his length. He hit so deeply inside that you could hardly catch a breath. Your body was hyperaware of every drag against your core and every nuge against your cervix and it craved more. You wrap your legs tight around his waist as you urge him to give you more.

Jaemin ignores your pleas and continues the rythme that he has created so far. You roll your hips, impatiently clawing down his chest in retaliation. 

“I'm trying to stay nice angel. Take what I give you” What he was giving you wasnt enough and if he thought you were dumb enough to not notice him holding himself back, he was wrong. 

“Don’t fuck me like that”

“Careful angel”

“I can handle it”

"Behave,” he says, gripping your face. He pulls out until only his tip remains and thrusts back in harshly. You scream in pleasure at the snap of his hips. That was what you were looking for; you needed to be broken in. If you wanted to get what you wanted, you needed to disobey.

“Fuck you,” you spit

“Watch your mouth,” one final warning.

“Fuck.You,” you say slowly, making sure he hears every syllable.

Something takes over him. You can see it through the dark gaze in his eyes. Rough hands pull you halfway off the bed, suspended hips held tight in his grasp as he pounds into you. You can’t even scream; your voice is caught in your throat as he uses the grip he has on your hips to slam you onto his cock. Each brutal thrust of his hips sounds off with a harsh clap of skin. Your back arches dangerously off the bed and you almost slip the rest of the way off if it weren't for one of his hands pushing down on your sternum, pinning you to the bed. 

“Is this what you want? You wanted it so fucking bad.”

He pulls out and your body compulses at the lack of contact. Your being manhandled off the bed, legs almost giving out from under you but Jaemin swiftly turns you, bending you over before pushing you flat on your stomach. He kicks your legs open further, opening you up for him before he finds your entrance again. You are grateful for this position because when the tears fall from your eyes and your saliva soaks his sheets, you dont have to worry about him seeing how pathetic you look. You hide your face in the sheets, crying out in pleasure. Your body cant keep up and overstimulation kicks in. You’re vibrating, literally, as you tremble in your spot under him.

His body leans over your back and you feel the heat of his body press into you as he continues to pound you into the mattress. His hand slips under you and circles your clit gently, knowing its already too much for you and just wanting to add a little extra to take you over the edge. You can't help the scream that bubbles out of your throat as you cum hard. Everything is black for a little bit and when you finally come to, all you can feel is your own wetness and release sticking to your thighs. Your empty and when you turn to look over your shoulder, Jaemin is stroking over your ass and soon that too is covered in cum.

You could hardly hold your head up anymore as it fell back down limply on the bed. You feel a rag clean you up but you refuse to open your eyes. You hear the sounds of a bath being run, and the next thing you know, your sitting in Jaemin's lap in the tub as he cleans the two of you. Your head laying lazily on his shoulder as he soaped you up and wiped you down. You know he lays you down in his sheets and when your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep. 

When you wake up, the sun shines in your eyes as you roll on your side groggily. Your body was sore all over and you felt like you had died and come back to life. Maybe you should have stretched before testing Jaemin's patience. Speaking of which, you notice the oversized shirt adorning your body as you shift to get out of bed. You look around and notice your clothes have been neatly folded on his dresser. You stand and it takes every fiber in your body not to wince every time you take a step. You can still feel his phantom touch as the events of the night before replay in your mind. It was so worth it. You finally make it over to your clothes and notice the note sitting on top of them.

Had to leave for class. Grab breakfast on the way out ;)

One word kept replaying in your head. out. Somehow, you had to navigate your way out of this godforsaken wolves den without running into Renjun or any of his other roomates. You hoped and hoped that they didn’t make it back yet or that they had some class to go to, but when you hold your breath and press your ear up against the door, you can hear a few muffled voices. You could make out the voices of two people; one was Renjun for sure and the other was familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

You were so fucked

You contemplate scaling the window but after looking at the 3-story drop, you decide against it. You try to wait it out, gambling on them just going back to their rooms but it sounds like they started up a videogame in the living room. Your pacing Jaemin’s room, completely forgetting about the ache between your legs. Your about to finally pull Jaemin’s shirt from over your head and put your own clothes back on when you have an idea. You pull open his closet and snag one of his hoodies off of a hanger. You find a pair of matching sweats in one of his drawers and tug those on as well. They didn't fit your frame well but that worked in your favor, with the baggy fabric helping to hide your shape. You pull up the hood and grab your things. If you move fast enough, they shouldn't be able to recognize you; they would no doubt see you, but at least they would just lump you in with any other random girl Jaemin brought home.

1…2…3

You pull open the door and peek your head out into the hall. The coast was clear; you held on tight to the sweatpants slowly falling off your hips and booked it to the front door. You pass the kitchen on your way out and your stomach almost growls at the food Jaemin had left out for you. You have half the mind to swoop in and snatch it but you keep trucking. You pass the living room in a heart beat. You quickly unlock the door, letting yourself out. The last thing you heard before the door closed behind you was, “What the fuck was that? Did you just see that?”

STAMINA

Maybe this was your karma. You had evaded Mark for another week and Chenle wouldn’t let you hear the end of how much Mark had looked like a “kicked puppy.”. You liked Mark, and you really did want to get closer to him in more ways than one, but that was why you had to do this. The last guy you really liked up and left you because you didn’t know how to suck dick... and threw up on him, but thats besides the point. The point is that you didn't want to lose Mark; you were scared to lose Mark, even over something as trivial as this. So you went back on the hunt.

The tinder gods were not looking down on you anymore because every match that came back just didn't make the cut. There were so many weirdos on the app that you were surprised you even got as far as you did. You would have to do the search by foot.

You would scout the courtyards and hallways in between classes, hoping to find your next target, but it was difficult to find what you were looking for. You were searching for stamina, not something that could be seen with the naked eye. Haechan's training helped you a lot, but you were looking for the kind of stamina that would carry you through multiple rounds. You needed someone to practice cum control with. 

It was hot outside, and you were exhausted. You were almost late for your last class when someone ran into you. "Sorry, excuse me," the girl replied before scurrying away again. 

"Wait!” you call out to her. She had dropped something—a keychain—from her gym bag. “You dropped this,” you say. She turns around and jogs back over. 

She quickly thanks you for the keychain and says, "Sorry, I’m in a hurry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m late for track." She then jogs over to the track and field facility. Your about to brush off the interaction when an idea suddenly comes to your head.

Who has more stamina than a long-distance track star?

You find a seat in the stands and observe the combined practices of the men's and women's track teams. You watched as they stretched and did warm ups and you finally found him. In his track suit, he was tall and slender. Although his waist was delicate, it only accentuated his broad shoulders and well-defined biceps. His short, dark hair was cropped close and clung to his forehead from perspiration.

"Jeno, You’re up on the 200-yard dash," yells one of the coaches. and all of a sudden, your mystery man is making his way to the starting blocks. So his name was Jeno. 

You head down the stands, happy with your findings, when you hear someone talking about a party that will take place after today's track meet. You didn't know how but you would find a way to that party. Luckily for you, you knew someone who happened to know just about everyone.

“Please Jisung, I need to get into that party!” you beg your friend.

“Then go by yourself,” your friend huffs in annoyance.

You have been friends with Jisung for awhile now. Jisung just had the type of personality that allowed him to fit into any friend group. Everyone adored him. You had to be a nobody if you didn't know Park Jisung. Even though his reputation precedes him, he's actually really laid-back and easy to talk to.

“I don’t know anyone there!” you whine from your seat perched up on his desk in his dorm room. 

“Then why do you even want to go” Chenle interjects from his spot on his bed as he scrolls through his phone, playing videos out loud obnoxiously like an old man. 

“Its for science,” you state.

“Funny, because thats what im trying to study for,” jisung says sarcastically, “I need to finish my assignments. I dont have time to go out” 

A beat of silence passes while you contemplate your next bargaining chip. “I'll do it for you”

Jisungs head snaps up from his textbook “Uh?”

“Come on, I’m like a genius. I’ll finish it for you if you come with me tonight,” you bargain

“This science you speak of doesn't have anything to do with your little outings, does it” Chenle says. He didn't have to specify which outings for you to get it.

“What outings?” Jisung peeks over at his roommate.

“Deal or no deal?” You hurry and try to change the subject; you didn't need poor Jisung to find out you were fucking around to eventually fuck his cousin. Everything leading up to that would probably just end up confusing him.

Pushing back from his desk and letting you take over, he said, "Knock yourself out." You knew those years of drowning your self in your studies to get over heart break would not be in vain

You arrive at a house a little ways off campus. The party was already raging and you were a little upset that you didn’t come to get absolutely wasted. Jisung parked his car on an off-street and walked beside you as you approached the house. 

“I might disappear for a little bit tonight but don’t leave without me,” you advise him. 

He bemoans, "Make sure you keep your ringer on; you never answer." He hated it when people split up from him at parties, but he was prepared. Chenle told him that you were trying to meet someone tonight.

Once inside, you waste no time in finding the kitchen. You weren't planning on getting wasted, but you at least needed a little liquid courage if you were going to talk to the Greek god you saw earlier. You and Jisung knock a few shots back until you start to feel the buzz. You stick to his side as he introduces you to a few of his friends, and you engage in small talk until you finally see Jeno walk through the front door.

Jeno had finally shown up and he looked even more delectable outside of his track uniform. He was wearing an open flannel over a dark shirt, adorned with a silver necklace. He wore some light-washed jeans that had a few rips and holes in them. He was like he jumped straight out of a boyfriend pin board. You felt a little creepy watching him over the rim of your red solo cup. You finish off your drink and part ways with your small group. Hes walking into the kitchen and you follow behind him. 

“Hey, your Jeno, right?” you call out to him. He looks up from the drink he's pouring and sends you a friendly smile. You don’t miss the way his eyes look you up and down.

“Whats up?” he replies, taking a swig from the mixture he poured.

“I watched your track practice today; did you run the 200? Your really good,” you say honestly

“Thank you; do you run too?” he asks, keeping the conversation flowing.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your impatience but you can’t find it in you to care about easing your way into the question. “I don’t actually, but i’m actually doing a study on endurance and stamina I was hoping you could help me with that” 

“Oh yea? What class is the project for?”

“No class, just my own personal studies”

“On endurance and stamina?”

“Yes”

It takes a moment for the gears in his head to start spinning

“Oh…oh!”

"I can give you my number; just text me if you’re interested," you say, pulling out a piece of paper with your phone number on it. You had written it down earlier, knowing that a pen would be impossible to find at a college party. 

He takes it from you and stares you down for a moment, his heavily lidded eyes raking over your frame again. "I'll let you know." You don't need to look to know that he's staring at your ass when you turn to walk away. 

He texts you before the night is even over but you don't respond until the morning. You let him know the exact details of the “stamina training” you had in mind and he agreed to your terms and conditions. You plan to hook up the following day; this was the last thing you needed to perfect, and you were excited. That day had come in no time and now you were fresh out of the shower, waiting for the fateful knock on your door. 

You had no time to prepare for this session, and you honestly didn’t know how to. How does one develop a resistance to pleasure, and how does one avoid the one thing you seek when satisfying oneself? Hopefully Jeno had the answers, and if he didn't, hopefully he helped you find them. 

Your fixing your hair and making sure everything is laid neatly when you hear a faint knock on your door. You look at yourself one last time in the mirror before going to open your front door. Jeno stands infront of your door with a small smile and you let him in. At this point, you were used to the awkward small talk and embarrassing attempts at flirting. You wasted no time in pulling him towards you. His hands instantly find your waist. You’re so close, you notice the cute mole he has under his eye. He stares back at you, his eyes round like puppy dogs. You pull him back into a slow kiss. Today there was no rush; it was all about resistance.

Once you get your fill of his lips, you pull away again and lead him to your bedroom. You kick your door closed and pull him down on top of you on your bed. “No matter how much I beg, dont let me cum,” you warn him

“Who says I was going to let you cum?” he teases back before he meets your lips again.

You smiled into the kiss; you were going to like this one. You wondered what type of role he would play when darkness wrapped around you both in its cool, sensual embrace. Would he let  you take control like you did with Haechan? Would he be as strict as Jaemin, keeping you in your place or would he be laid back like Renjun? Guiding you and willing to relent some of the control to you if you ask. His firm body pins you down under him, and he kisses you hotly before ghosting his lips down your neck teasingly. His hands snake their way up your shirt and he explores the skin exposed there before pushing it up and over your chest. He lays sweet kisses over the top of your breast, not yet ready to part with the image of you wrapped in the lace that was your bra. Your impatient so you sit up on your elbows to help him get you out of your shirt. You pull your shirt over your head, and you scoot a little out of his embrace to pull down your shorts. Jeno takes the hint and strips himself bare, except for his briefs. When your done, he pulls you back under him and gets you settled again. You can feel him pressing hot against your skin. You had barely just met him, but something about the way Jeno kissed you and touched you—the way he paid attention to your body—was so intimate. The little sounds you would make when he nips at your skin. The way you bite your lips when he licks your sweat-prickled  skin unabashedly. He watches it all, doing his own little research to learn just what you like. You weren't sure at first, but Jeno was a lover boy. Even though you weren’t his, he would love you like you were. 

Hes already slipping his hands into your underwear and the moans that slip out of your lips are sinful. He rubs your clit in soothing circles, spreading your juices so he can slip inside and open you up. His other hand slips behind your back and finally removes your bra so he can suckle on your nipples and massage your chest.

“Fuck Jen, I need more, please,” you whine

“You better be able to take what you ask for,” He warns.

He finally slips 2 fingers inside of you and begins to pump them leisurely. You grip the hair at the back of his neck and pull him back to your lips. You needed to drown out the sounds you were about to make when you felt his thick fingers stretch you out. His hands were warm; they warmed your entire body as they worked in tandem to bring you high. Deeply curled fingers had your back arching as you moaned in to his open mouth. He swallowed down all your sounds as he huffed his own into your mouth. He was grinding down shallowly into one of your thighs as he lay on top of you. The length of him rubbing against you gave you a good idea of what you would be working with tonight and you were happy for your lessons with Jaemin because Jeno was definitely going to split you in two. That thought alone had your thighs clamping against his wrist and your hands gripping on to him, anywhere you could reach.

“You there, baby? Fight through it. You got it. Come on,” he said, speaking with a soft bass in his voice.

“Im gonna cum,” you choke out every part of your body, lighting up with pleasure that you can't snuff out.

His fingers slow but they don't stop completely. He lets up, willing you to calm down. You feel your orgasm slowly slip away and the feeling that was left afterwards was something close to desperation. Your legs are spread wide as you roll your hips up onto his fingers, urging him deeper. You pull him impossible closer to your body. His fingers pick up their pace again and it feels like you have grown 100 times more sensitive because this time it takes little to no time for the waves that crash against you and lap at your stomach to finally drown you out. Jeno can feel the way you tense up in his hold and he pulls away completely this time.

“No, please, this is driving me crazy,” you cry

“Come on, baby your doing so good,” he says, kissing your pout 

Your body is still tingling with the traces of your lost orgasm but you manage to calm down as Jeno passes his hands against your skin soothingly. Stroking your sides and stomach lazily until you settle. 

“What if we try something else?” he suggests after another minute of gazing at you.

“Like what?” 

"Well, if you find it difficult to hold back your orgasm, why not just let it go?”

“I'm not following. Doesn’t that defeat the whole point?” you quirk a brow at him

“Im saying what if you build your endurance to last multiple rounds. Find a way to keep going through multiple orgasms.

The thought turned your entire view upside down. You had never thought of it that way. You weigh the options in your head. The burning desire and desperation that edging leaves you with or the overwhelming sensations that overstimulation was sure to make you writhe with. Maybe this question was best asked when you weren’t horny and wound up from an orgasm denial because all you could think about was cuming. 

“Lets try that”

Jeno kisses down your body until he lays between your legs. He shifts one leg over his shoulder and kisses your clit softly while holding eye contact. Your hips already twitch with need. “Hands behind your back” was his whispered command.

You fold your arms, bending each at the elbow, neatly behind your back. You rest against them as you breathe deeply through your nose. Jeno licks a flat strip against your folds. Your folds were already soaked, practically dripping onto the sheets and he just cleaned it all up. He licks a pointed strip now through your folds, parting them on his way up  until hes teasing at your clit again, He wraps his lips against it and suckles gently. He slips his fingers back inside as he gets lost in making out with your pussy. It takes every fibre in your being to hold still; you needed to focus on lasting as long as you could. You decided you would scum but you at least wanted to see how long you could last. Jeno just hums against you, lost in his own thoughts and his own world. His eyes were closed now but his eyebrows were furrowed up like he was concentrating.

He parts his fingers inside of you, stretching them out to make room for his tongue, He licks inside of you over and over and you truly do go crazy. Your thighs attempt to clamp close, but Jeno’s free arm pins one of them open, forcing his face back into your heat. He fucks his fingers ruthlessly now, determined to throw you over into the current, and he does. Your orgasm leaves you feeling sleepy and heavy. The only thing that brings you back down to earth is Jeno’s slick mouth sliding into place over yours as he kisses you deeply. 

“3 times. Can you handle that? 3 times?” he asks

You take his words into consideration; you feel yourself throbbing, but you think you could manage two more rounds. You send him a nod and he kisses you again as he shoves off the last piece of his clothing. You can feel him stroke against your slick folds, teasing the head of his cock inside before pulling back out to slap it against your wetness. 

“You ready?” 

You nod and he pushes inside of you. You were right; he was splitting you open. Once he was sitting all the way inside, you let out a small whimper, and he instantly soothed you.

“You’re ok. I'm gonna make you feel really good,” he shushes into your ear as he caresses you.

His voice is so soft and smooth that you relax against his hold. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips before sending him a nod. You couldn't bring up enough energy to speak. You barely had enough to cum again but you would fight through the drowsiness.

“Let me know if you want to stop, ok?” he offers gently before pulling his hips back slowly to thrust deep inside of you again. 

It was like he was hypnotizing you—the way his hips moved as he fucked you, the way his slim waist looked with your legs wrapped around it, the way his arms flexed when he went a little harder. You could get used to being under Jeno. You would take however many rounds he gave you. If it meant you could prolong this sensation, you would endure each and every one of them. You loved the way he filled you up and split you open over and over again as he pounded into you. You loved his noises you had to strain to listen for, you loved the way his face would scrunch up in pleasure when you clamped down tight around him. 

Your bodies compliment each other's movements as you chase his hips with your own. You were wound up too tight; you needed release. His hands snake down between your legs and circle your clit skillfully. You cum again, this time around his length. He fucks you through it and settles deep inside of you, holding still until your breathing evens again. You didn't know how he did it. He hadn't come once since you started, which must have taken an ungodly amount of will. You knew you wouldn't be able to do that, at least not for a long time. You would have to settle for fighting through the overstimulation for now. You weakly thrust your hips up again, signaling for him to start again.

“Last one baby, I think I'll be a little more selfish this time,” he says before pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

You don't get to ask what he means before he manhandles you into the next position. He lips your hips before swiftly placing a pillow underneath you, angling your hips up. He grips your thighs, forcing them off of his hips and pressing them deep into your chest, your knees bracing your head. He shoves back in deep, fucking you into the mattress in a mating press. He didn't care if you could cum again because he was going to rip it from you. Puppydog eyes no longer stare back at you; they hadn't since he laid you down on the mattress, but this time something else swims behind his eyes. It was pure hunger, like that of a wolf. You realized that, although he was good at holding back, once the gate was open, nothing could stop what rushed through. It was like the final leg of a race, where you see the finish line and sprint for it. He was pent up, and he was going to let you have it. 

Over and over again, his hips pounded harshly into yours. They were sure to bruise by morning, joining the others that probably adorn your body from all your other late-night activities. He hadn't mentioned them but you knew he had noticed because he focused most of his kisses there, like he wanted to paint over the others work.

Empty, there was nothing going on inside your head. Just his name repeating on loop until it filled up your thoughts so much that it had no choice but to spill from your lips. His own pathetic moans fill the air as he thrusts, getting sloppy, less sharp and less precise, and he finishes deep inside of you. You’re almost there and you’re grateful that he fights through his own overstimulation to keep fucking into you lazily. You cum around him and your body goes limp against your sheets. 

“You were able to keep up with me; you were amazing,” he says around his heavy breathing. You just look over to him and smile, far too exhausted to speak

When you wake up the next morning, you are not expecting to see jeno still lying next to you. You were sure you made it clear to him this wouldnt be a long-term thing. You shake him awake and he stirs in this sleep before cracking an eye open. He looks at you, then rolls over like you were bothering him.

"Jen, get up. You have to go,” you say, shaking his shoulder again

"Hngm,” he groans, pulling more of your cover over him.

You just stare at him incredulously. You slap his shoulder hard and he finally sits up fully. He looks more alert now as he takes in your appearance and then the time on the bedside table.

“Fuck! Im going to be late for practice,” is all he says before rushing to grab his clothes and phone off your nightstand. 

You just watch him in amusement as he scrambles around the room. He's halfway through the door before he stops in his tracks. He turns around and strides back to you before leaning over to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. This kiss was short, but you sensed something in it. He pulled away and stepped out the door fully this time, saying a quick goodbye. Jeno was a track star; he’d make it. As you hear your front door close with a heavy slam, one thought runs through your head.

Jeno the track star, and Jeno, the lover boy, was attached to you. In what ways, you didn’t know, but you could not find out.

Navigating across your college campus was already difficult when you had to regularly avoid crowds of students. Now that you were practically a wanted fugitive, it was even harder to slip between the halls and walk from class to class.

Jeno had texted you a few times since he left your house that one day. Haechan never stopped asking around for you, Renjun was pretty cool about everything so it was only a little awkward when you passed him in the halls, and Jaemin...  Boy, if Jaemin got his hands on you, it was so over.

There was only one person you wanted to see and that was Mark. He was the only one who hadn't tried to hit you up. It was like he had vanished from the face of the earth. You had practically begged Jisung for any updates but even he hadn't seen him around. It wasn't until you walked into the library one day and saw Mark cuddle up with some girl that your questions were answered. You were devastated. You had spent so much time trying to be perfect for him and he had used that time to move on to another girl. You couldn't exactly blame him; you had been blowing him off for awhile in favor of your "studies.”. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You hated life. Life always has a sick way of turning you on your head. What was this all for without Mark? Not to say you went on this whole sexual exploration just for him but he was the end goal. He was the final boss. It was like putting in hours on a videogame just to have it shut down before you could save. Yes, you play it for fun, but you also play for the sense of accomplishment that comes with completing it and winning. 

What was that saying? Play stupid games,win stupid prizes? 

You were out sipping smoothies and pouring your heart out to your friend group. You told them everything. Some were more shocked than others.

“You were trying to fuck my cousin!?” Jisung says this in horror as he almost chokes on his smoothie.

“Sorry, Jisung, I cant explain that one” You send him an apologetic smile.

“I just knew something was up! You had that glowy look,” your friend Yangyang says 

“Yeah, that post-sex glow!” Mia chimes in

“Will you two quiet down?” You shush them; you did not need the entire establishment knowing you “glow” after sex, making it sound like you had some type of radioactive pussy.

“I cant believe you fucked them; thats bold even for you,” jisung adds

“I dont need your judgment, jisung”

“No, im not judging; its just that they all-”

“Can we please drop it, I dont want to talk about this anymore; people are starting to stare” The old couple that sat across from your table sneaked glances at you and your friends. 

"Well, if you want to get over Mark, you should get under someone else,” chenle says

“Its your advice that got me here in the first place,” you remind him as you finish your smooth sucking down the last drop. 

You needed to just spend some time alone, collect yourself and get over mark. Honestly, your kind of happy that this happened sooner rather than later, before you developed more intimate feelings for him. You had already been on your way down that path and it had scared you a little. Maybe this was for the best since you weren't yet ready to face your feelings.

You were supposed to be the reasonable friend. You were supposed to be the friend who told everyone else when they were making stupid decisions, but now that you were making dumb decisions, there was no one there to stop you. You shouldn't listen to Chenle, especially not after the first time but it was like there was a devil-shaped Chenle on your shoulder, egging you on.

You texted Renjun; it has been weeks since you last spoke to him and you hoped there were no hurt feelings between you. You had told him you wanted to meet up and that you had a lot of things on your mind that you wanted to forget, even if just for one night. He said he wasn't upset about you ghosting him; he said that was what the app was all about and that if you ever needed a distraction, you were always welcome over.

You were so grateful to Renjun; he always made you feel safe and welcome. You were thankful that he was your first sexual encounter after your past failed attempts.

You know the way to his house like the back of your hand at this point. You were excited to see Renjun again. You hoped that you could build a relationship outside of just sex; he seemed like a really cool dude. You knock on the door, and it swings open a second later. 

It wasn't Renjun.

“Sorry, my roomates were just leaving,” the man you were here to meet says, popping up from behind Haechan, who had answered the door.  The blood drained from your face. "Haechan, let her in”

Haechan doesn't take his eyes off of you once. When he eventually shifts to the side to let you through the door, you expect him to walk out, but he simply closes it behind you.

You walk into the living room, and 2 other pairs of eyes lock onto you. Confused looks were exchanged between everyone in the room except Renjun, who still had no idea what was going on.

“These are my roomates, Jeno and Jaemin, oh and thats Haechan” Jeno and Jaemin were sitting on the couch in the living room, dressed to go out and Haechan was still standing in the small walkway that led from the living room to the front door.

“We know each other,” haechan says. Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun all give him a confused look after he makes the comment.

“So do we,” Jeno and Jaemin say in unison before quickly looking at each other, even more confused.

“I actually forgot I think I have an assignment due, I need to turn it in before 12 so I think I'll leave,” you say with a sheepish, akward smile.

You turn to run away but Haechan blocks your path. “Where are you running to babe? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks I think we should have a little chat.

“I really need to turn in that assignment” You try again

“Sit down, princess,” jaemins stern voice calls from the couch, He moves over and pats the space next to him. 

Fuck.

“Wait, don't tell me,” Renjun says, finally putting all the pieces together. “Did we all fuck her?”

“Yes! I fucked all of you,” you grumble as you plop down on the couch sandwiched between Jeno and Jaemin. You were caught either way, so you might as well fess up. You can't bring yourself to look at Jeno; you knew there would be hurt in his eyes. “In my defense, I had no idea you were all roomates”

“No judgment over here love. I just wish you would have come to me instead of Renjun if you wanted to fuck tonight,” haechan smirked

You cross your arms against your chest and huff. its not like you were in trouble; you were all grown consenting adults but it sure felt like you were.

“That's what you were gonna do, right? Use everything I taught you to go fuck him?” Jaemin says, his piercing stare seeing right through you.

You were annoyed, you hated being on the hot seat, you had come here to escape your worries and not be confronted by 4/5ths of them. Maybe that is why you lash out a little. “Yes, Jaemin, I'm going to fuck your roomate and make him scream loud enough for the rest of you to hear” 

“And where did you learn how to do that?”

“From you, of course” 

The room grows silent and that annoys you more. You couldn't understand why no one was ripping you out of your clothes yet. “Is someone going to fuck me, or do I have to find someone else to do it” 

“Are you ok with Renjun sharing you?” haechan suggests

“I think I can handle it; can you” you say to the room.

“Wouldnt be the first time we shared,” jaemin says

You finally turn to face jeno. He looks at you, then at your lips, and finally speaks. “I want you… I need you so bad” You had a feeling his words had a deeper meaning than that

You didnt have time to worry about him; you already had so much on your mind but you did spare him the slightest mercy and lean into him first. You kiss him, pulling him into a heated kiss and you can feel warm hands under your shirt as Jaemin kisses your neck. Suddenly, you were being pulled away from the kiss and hauled off the couch. Renjun stood in front of you and said, “lets go to my room; I have the most space”  

The trail of clothes that is left behind in the hallway was the only evidence you left behind as the door to Renjuns room closed behind you. You crawl into the bed, and Jaemin crawls in behind you. Renjun takes it upon himself to have you first. He claims your lips in a kiss before he trails his hot mouth down your body. He sucks at your chest before continuing down. Jaemin grabs a hold of them from behind, massaging them in Renjun's wake. Haechan props himself up beside you and kisses you, his hand drawing mindless circles against the skin at your stomach as Renjun caresses your thighs as he prys them open. He lays between them and for once, he doesn't wait. He dives in, immeditaly pressing his hot tongue all over you, spreading your juices as he sucks and licks at your cunt. Your hips fuck up on to his tongue and into his face, and he doesn't stop you. He doesn't stop you when you grab ahold of his hair to grind against his face messily. From beside you, Haechan sits up, dick pressing against your lips and urging you to open your mouth. You do your best to suck him off, lazily closing your mouth around him, too focused on how Renjun feels between your legs than about properly sucking him off. Jaemin strokes your hair away from your face, gripping it in a makeshift ponytail for you as he watches you suck off Haechan. You can feel him pressing up against your lower back, and you can't help the new wave of slick that gushes out at the thought of him feeling you up again. You had missed him—all of them, really. The thought pulls your mind back to Jeno, who sat silently on your other side. You reach out blindly until you feel for him. He takes your hand in his and guides it down his body. His hand covers yours as you palm him through his boxers. Soft groans leave his mouth, and you manage to pull him from his confines. You grip firmly and stroke him as best you can from your angle. He seems to appreciate it because, in no time, he's fucking up into your fist.

You feel Haechan tense in your mouth and you think he's going to spill but he pulls out instead. He takes up camp next to Renjun, forcing the other to scoot over. They both lap at your fold messily and you don't miss the way their tongues swirl together, tasting each other. You are ripped away from the beautiful sight between your legs when Jaemin grips your hair and makes you take Jeno into your mouth next. He guides your movements, pulling you up and down the jenos cock, making it hit the back of your throat. Your training really paid off because you only gag slightly until you are in control of the reflex again.

Fingers slip between your folds; your not sure who they belong to, but their curving deep, fucking into you ruthlessly. The way they sissor you open has you moaning around Jeno, causing his hips to stutter. You feel a pair of lips sucking cruelly on your clit and you come undone violently. Jeno cums deep down your throat, making you choke a little. He pulls out, laying limply next to you. You don’t miss the way his eyes shine at you.

The grasp in your hair forces your head back and you turn over your shoulder to kiss Jaemin. You were positive he could taste Jeno on your tongue but that didn't stop him from shoving his wet muscle down your throat and chasing the taste. Sometime during your distracted haze, Renjun pushes inside of you and you moan into your kiss with Jaemin. Renjun fucks you fast and deep. Hold on tight to your hips. Haechan busies himself with your chest, sucking on your nipples before pulling back to steal you away from Jaemin's kisses. Haechan kisses you messily, just like the way he ate you out and swallowed your moans. Renjun's pace turns sloppy and he finishes against your stomach. With how neat and tidy he likes to keep his things, you were surprised at how messy he could get in the heat of the moment. He pulls out and flops down beside you. Haechan quickly takes his place and you thank Jeno for his help in preparing you for this moment. 

Haechan pushes inside of you easily, your greedy pussy completely swallowing him whole. He wastes no time in driving into you over and over again. He used your body to get off, pressing quick circles into your clit. You swipe some of Renjun’s cum off your stomach and shove your soiled finger into Haechan’s mouth. Your fingers rest against his tongue as he licks them clean with a groan. You slip your hand free, smearing some of his spit across his mouth in the process. You didn’t know what it was about Haechan,  but he just got you so worked up. Maybe it was how nasty he was, licking up another man's cum, and how he would probably lick you clean after this. You couln'tt stop your hips as they bucked up into his. You chase your highs and you use each other. After a few quick thrusts, you're cuming all over his length and leaking onto the covers, adding even more fluid to the mess. Haechan doesn’t pull out. He comes deep inside you, stuffing you full before he pulls out to watch it drip from your hole.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, baby,” Jaemin whispers in your ear. He had waited patiently for everyone else to get done with you because he wanted your full attention. Jaemin was going to show you that he was all you needed. 

You don't even get a chance to move before he moves you into position himself. He takes one of the pillows from the head of the bed and instructs you to lay your head on it. You think hes being nice, worried about your neck cramping, until he says, “bite it” 

He wouldn't go easy on you this time, not with how pent-up he has been. A hand grips your head, shoving your face into the pillow as he slips inside. This time, there is zero resistance. With all the slick spilling out of your hole, he was able to lube up before slipping inside.

“Fuck, look at that. Taking it so well,” Jeno says from his spot on the bed. A few moans follow and you assume they are all touching themselves at the sight. 

Jaemin forces your head up and makes you look at Renjun, Haechan, and Jeno, all beating their dicks. “You think they can fuck you like I do? No ones got you like I do baby and i’m gonna prove it” 

Your pushed back into the pillow, your screams muffled as he snaps his hips into your ass. Crude clapping fills the room as your skin makes contact from his long, deep strokes. Your moans are instead replaced with Haechan's as they fill the room alongside Renjun and Jenos. Jaemin doesn't let up, grabbing one of your arms and pinning it to your back. Renjun's pillow was soaked with your tears as you cried in pleasure at the way Jaemin fucked you. Your thighs grow weak and you can’t hold yourself up anymore but that's ok because Jaemin's strong grip keeps you up as he holds you in place, pounding into you from behind. 

“Fuck, im gonna cum” Haechan moans

You’re about to as well when your thighs start to tremble and your body starts to thrash as you try to escape the onslaught of pleasure. 

“Stay right there, princess. You got it,” Jaemin grunts into your ear. His chest is pressed against your back, and his biceps curl around your throat, pulling you away from the pillow and successfully trapping you in a chokehold. You scream out load finally, and your orgasm wracks through you. Your tight grip on Jaemin's cock has him cumming deep inside of you with a groan.

Everyone was exhausted and sprawled across Renjun's bed. Renjun, followed by Haechan, Jeno, You, and Jaemin. That was how you were all laid out. Someone went to grab a towel and whipped you clean before wrapping strong arms around you. Through your drowsiness, you looked up to see Jeno nuzzled into your side, embracing you. You had resolved most of your problems except for one. 

You shake the thought from your head—not tonight. Tonight, you would just be his and enjoy this moment. You would face him in the morning. You didn't know him well but maybe you could change that. 

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading this. There will be no Part 2 anytime soon or maybe even ever. Maybe a spin-off could happen but probably far down the road in the future. This is literally just porn with no plot. I seriously have no idea where I would take this story. Comment and leave feedback if you want to; it is always appreciated. 

a/n: Fun fact i actually did lose my virginity to a fence, it is completely possible to break your hymen  through injury. That shit hurt so bad lmaooo. Some of these events in the fic are pulled from real life. See if you can guess which ones lol.

[dojunie]

[nct dream]★[00line]: they pretend to be mad at you and it goes horribly wrong

➥ NCT DREAM TEXTS INSTALLMENT NO.1

[OTHER WORKS MASTERLIST]

a/n: something small in between my seemingly endless editing stage for the other works in progress... i love these texts LOL i feel like the characterization is kind of good in this one <3

[handlemehyuck]

boyfriend texts: protective dreamies ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

・❥・ thank you for requesting, anon! gratitude to my pals for helping me assign these 🫶