#i said this already but literally so heartbroken

[revolutionfm]

hi! it breaks my heart to have to send this msg but i’m gonna have to leave revolution 💔 i definitely don’t want to leave y’all or jonnie, but i don’t think i can stay either 😭 thank y’all for creating such a lovely group and it was so so so fun to be apart of it and hopefully one day i’ll be able to come back!! please unfollow, love y’all ❤️

[iamfabiloz]

THIS WORLD IS SO CRUEL... NO SYMPATHY FOR THIS POOR SOUL!!!!

edit: I ended up getting it… peace and love on planet earth

[chuluoyi]

✎ wedding anniversary

- gojo satoru x reader

seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—heavy smut, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, crack, drunk, lovesick and possessive gojo (nanami is so very done with him), also fluff !!

note: back to chu's thirsting hour :') based on a fellow gojo fucker's very helpful brainrot (chiyo if you see this, hii!😗) pls give it some love bc this has gone through not showing up in the tags 5x already *sobs*

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

To this day, it was still beyond Nanami why you, his very sensible former classmate, would have Gojo Satoru as your husband.

“She... doesn't—hic!—care about m-me... anymore!”

But well, to each their own.

“Gojo—”

“Today is our—hic!—anniversary!”

This is exhausting. It had been 30 minutes ever since the blindfolded shithead started rambling his sorrows. “She is probably just busy, you don't have to—”

“I r-really thought—hic!—she would at least n-not forget it l-like that!”

“Please, stop this nonse—”

Satoru snapped his head so swiftly that Nanami was startled, pointing out an accusatory finger at his face. “You stop!—you don't understand, Nanami!”

The said man flinched, taken aback, before feeling the surge of irritation coursing through his veins.

Sure, Nanami would gladly admit that he didn't understand. He neither had the time nor energy to. It was beyond him that he was even entertaining this blubbering idiot at this time of the day, in a bar no less. How did he get roped into this in the first place?

Actually, he had minus interest in your marital affairs, but Gojo was latching onto him all day, rambling about how excited he was for this day for weeks now, until you gave him a call, saying you would be home late and disregarded his very open anticipation. You broke his heart to pieces, apparently.

Amidst his heartbroken musings, Gojo followed him to his frequented bar, where he proceeded to down multiple glasses without any supervision.

“Am I really t-that lousy? Can’t be it… I’m s-strong, d-dashing… rich—”

Nanami released a guttural sigh, messaging his temples. How could this idiot have no shame while spouting all of this?

“Will s-she… divorce me next…?” he abruptly blurted, eyes widening as saucers and full of clarity all of a sudden. Satoru firmly tugged at his suit and forced him to face him. “Nanamin…! S-she won’t divorce me, r-right?!”

Oh, to hell with it. Nanami couldn’t take this anymore. He was done and he had no patience to tolerate it any longer.

He shrugged him off, and pulled out his phone to dial your number. “Hello? Please, come pick your husband. He’s a public nuisance!”

In fact, you didn’t forget your anniversary.

How could you? Satoru made it his point to drop hints about it almost every day, and you actually struggled to be indifferent about it because you also had things planned out.

A present—already taken care of thanks to your mail order of Rolex’s newest collection watch, and a treat—a two-tier mochi cake he had been staring at with literal stars in his eyes on your last date.

Which has become the problem. The bakery had mishandled your delivery and you had to wait for them to remake it. It was 8pm already and you couldn't help but worry. Satoru must be feeling utterly despondent by now, thinking you had forgotten a day that meant so much for both of you.

And so when you got a call from Nanami, you dropped everything to get him and told the bakery to arrange for the delivery tomorrow, because you knew... nothing good ever came out of Satoru getting drunk.

"I missed youuuu~! Dearest, darling— my universe!"

To Satoru, the everything around him was a blur of lights and hiccups when you came to retrieve him. Nanami was so eager to wash his hands off him, leaving you with a pointed grimace as if pitying you.

. . .

"A-are you going to—hic!—leave m-me?" Satoru slurred for the nth time now, stumbling inside your house with you propping him.

"For the last time, no, but I'm tempted to," you hissed, throwing him a glare. Your husband was a very unpleasant drunk because he wasn't even a drinker in the first place. "Satoru—walk properly!"

You managed to get him into your bedroom, where Satoru flopped onto the bed, dissolving into groans. You exhaled deeply and plucked the buttons of his shirt open, trying to get him change into his sleepwear.

"Ah... haaah," suddenly he caught your hand and placed it on his bare chest, his eyes blazing into yours, rambling, "Sweetheart—please. I c-can't live without you now... I'm sorry—I'm sorry for anything, or everything, I don't even know but—please don't hate me—"

"Satoru..." Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. Why was he this spooked? "I'm not leaving you, okay?"

"I promise you, I'll do better—" his voice was watery, as if his throat was clogged up. "I'll be better..." His voice then reduced into a whisper. The alcohol had stripped away his facade, leaving his raw emotions exposed.

Something inside you lurched. Throughout the nine years you have been with him, Gojo Satoru was always irritatingly self-assured, and so seeing him like this— so openly fragile, it did more than just churn your insides; it made you realize the depth of his feelings.

In that moment, you knew your reassurance meant everything.

"I'm not going anywhere, yeah?" you placed your other hand over his, offering him a genuine, soft smile. “Satoru, I’ve put up with your ass for more than nine years. So…” you shifted your eyes away, suddenly feeling embarrassed, before looking at him again. “I'm here... for you, always.”

His grip on your hand loosened slightly, but the intensity in his gaze didn't wane, and you would've laughed when he hiccupped next if you weren't feeling the overwhelming warmth in your chest.

But oh you wouldn't have expected it, because one heartbeat later, he yanked you down to the bed— crashing his lips against yours.

“Mmmph!”

He tangled his nimble fingers on your hair, and his other hand slipped inside your blouse, unclasping your bra in one flick. You let out a gasp, "Satoru—! "

Before you could even gasp, in the next second, he flipped you over— seizing your puffy lips once more. His hands now moved with more urgency, squeezing your breasts rather roughly, flicking your nipples with the pads on his thumbs.

And soon, far sooner than you thought...

"Who else gets to see you like this?" Satoru inquired darkly after you were naked under him, his voice low and deep. He was no longer that stupid husband of yours, rather the wanton man of your nightly wonders.

Without warning, he slid one of his fingers into your folds, probing your walls, and a gasp escaped you as you arched your back, throwing your head back on the sheets.

"No— one," your voice came in a breathless moan, still reeling. "H-how can y-you ask me—" Stretching you out even further, he entered another finger and you wailed, "Mmgh!"

He had always loved the sounds you made and how you were so pretty squirming under him like this. And before you knew it, his face was inches from your cunt, blowing hot air into your sensitive flesh.

"Tell me, who is the only person who gets to see you like this?"

Your eyes rolled back, words died on your tongue as his skilled tongue ran down on your drenched pussy. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his head, but he firmly held them apart.

"You." Panting, your mind racing to form coherent thoughts. You managed to mutter, "Only you... No one else—hah—just y-you...!"

He suckled on your clit hungrily then, rewarding you for your honesty. Squelching noises echoed around your marital bed as your arousal pooled around his fingers— you being so incredibly, irrevocably close to your release.

"Haaah, ngh—mmph!—Satoru, I'm a-about to—!" but then, in one cruel twist, he withdrew his digits, and your pussy throbbed at the loss.

You muffled your whines, feeling betrayed and irritable. "What—why—!?"

"Don't think that I'll let you cum anywhere else but my cock," he stated gallantly with an unusually stern expression, blue eyes narrowing as he assessed your wetness. Right in front of your eyes, his cock sprung after he let it out of his pants.

"Soon, you'll feel me..." Your eyes shamelessly followed his long length as he placed it on your lower belly. "...there."

Everything about him using that taunting tone turned you on, and true to his words, he soon slid himself inside you. He let out a low grunt at the feeling of how your walls clenching around him and you whined, the pain of being stretched making you almost sob.

"Shit, hold still," Satoru groaned, pushing down on your belly. "You're so tight— relax for me a bit, sweetheart? You're doing so, so fucking well."

His words went through you, and you could feel yourself opening more to ease his intrusion. Next thing you knew, he was buried deep inside you, and his gaze met you once again.

"Are you okay?" he asked between breaths, voice softening. When you nodded in response, he planted a kiss on your chest.

"I love you," he said in a rasp, eyes piercing your soul. "I’ll give you anything. My body, heart, soul—you can have it all. In return, you just have to promise one thing." His eyes, now clearer, deprived of the earlier haze, boring straight into you like an arrow.

"Don't ever leave me."

"I won't," you replied resolutely, catching your breath. Your own eyes shone with your love for him, making it even. "For as long as I live, it's going to always be you."

Satoru gazed at you as if you were his skies and stars, and before he started pounding into you, he vowed—

"Then I'm yours."

And soon, you were a nothing more than a frenzy, hot mess. You couldn’t help the nasty moans flying out of your lips as he kept barreling into you. His grunts reverberated throughout the room, rutting you through your hazed mind.

And the way he was whispering provocations into your ear, pushing you further into ecstasy at the mere thought of—

"What if... I get you pregnant this time?" A thrust. "Just imagine—" Another. "My wife, all round—" Another. "—just because I—am doing this to her—!"

You were barely registering his rambles at this point. Your walls clenching around his girth impossibly tight and you let him claim you as his thoroughly, your legs locking around his waist.

"Ah—ngh, mmrgh! Satoru—more!"

This wasn't you, the usual you wouldn't be this daring— but even you'll be more than forgiven tonight.

Satoru's jaw tightened at the sheer pleasure you brought him, his ego stroked, and his heavenly eyes darkened as you begged and dug your nails into him. He was so close, he could feel it. Your moans was enough to lead him to cum right here and there.

But before that, he was determined to show you, to whom you truly belong.

“My wife.” He growled. A thrust.

“Mine.” You gasped. Harder.

“All mine.” Deeper.

"Yes," you cried. "Yours— all yours, so please—!"

And three deep thrusts later, Satoru finally busted his load inside you, spurts after spurts painting your wall white— filling you up so hard it was spilling out. And your orgasm followed in immediate effect along with your hitched screams of pleasure, before the two of you collapsed on each other, a mix of groans and sweat, entwined in cum, bliss and exhaustion.

"Love you, sweetheart," you heard him murmuring in your ears, enveloping you in a warm embrace as you drifted into sleep.

Next morning, you were awoken to soft hums in your ears.

"Oh, the sleeping beauty awakens." The first sight you saw was Satoru's cheeky grin, and him pecking you on the lips. "How are you?"

"Mmm..." you winced, feeling the slight twinge between your legs. He noticed it and gently untangled himself from you, fingers tracing your waist. "Don't move around too much, you're going to bother my little swimmers, you know."

It took you a few seconds to realize what he meant and you glared at him. "You horny weirdo. I just woke up."

“Heh heh heh~ Don't take it too seriously! I was just trying to get you to smile.” He pinched your cheeks and then mused, “Well, I'd actually be surprised if we made it last night...”

"You're not funny," you retorted. You had been feeling weird and that was when you saw it.

The dazzling, massive diamond ring. On your finger. Wait, is that Graff's Tribal Collection?

"Satoru..." you mumbled, lifting your hand in shock, your eyes fixed on the piece that likely cost more than your monthly wage. "You..."

"Do you like it?" his smile was so easy and light, adoring the sight of you. You were so adorable, marveling at the little gift he got you.

"What do you mean—" you stuttered, turning to him. "Are you crazy?! I can't wear something this expensive—!"

"But that's exactly my point. It's a gift, meant to spoil my wife."

"You are mad," warmth flooded your cheeks, your heart fluttering with joy. You were unbelievably giddy because your husband really knew the way to your heart, yet you'd be damned if you let the excitement show in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression souring, and with a mocking tone, he accused you, "Actually, you're the one who's gone mad. I can't believe you forgot our anniversary!"

"I didn't, you dummy. I was out picking up your favorite mochi cake before you got yourself wasted." You turned away from him, shyly. "And I got a gift for you too."

"Oh? Oooh! Really!? What is it?!"

He was back to his silly self again, and you could only shake your head, wondering how the sex god from last night and this fool was the same person.

Yet, you felt nothing but love. Your heart couldn't help but melt for him when you saw that carefree grin.

And you couldn't be more grateful to the stars for bringing him into your life.

. . .

Oh, and little did you know that his little swimmers also made the goal last night— as three weeks later, you found yourself clutching the first of your pregnancy tests, which was showing a positive.

[ghostfacd]

ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY? | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. after you and tom called it quits, the internet can’t help but make you their punching bag, all because you liked a boy.

part 2 | installment of this au | recommend you read it for more context!

CELEBRITYNEWS Months after the pair announced they were dating on Instagram, couple Y/N Avocot and Tom Blyth have now since broken up due to personal reasons and “mutual agreement” according to a source. We will miss the sweet ex-couple, and we wish the best for Y/N and Tom!

view all comments

user1 guys im going to cry

user2 this wasn’t in my 2023 plans.

user3 actual tears

user4 ik rachel is heartbroken rn bc they’re both her close friends and she introduced them to one another 😭😭

➥ user5 you’re so right OMG

user6 they were so good together?? im upset

user7 he’s single now….. YES

ynuser me time 🌞 (new skincare video up soon yayy!!)

view all comments

user8 guys, it’s official. she unfollowed tom

➥ user9 it’s the way he still follows her and likes all her posts like this is too sad to watch ☹️

user10 girly after unfollowing tom and everything even tho he still follows and likes her post

user11 she doesn’t deserve him lol. not then, not now, not ever

sean.kauf ur time

conangray yess i love you yn

➥ ynuser @/conangray @/sean.kauf i love you two 💘

rachelzegler only girls party

➥ user12 oh?

hollywoodnews Oh? is this a new romance brewing? Actress and music artist, YN Avocot and her fellow actor and cast mate Sean Kaufman seen awfully comfortable in multiple restaurants not long after YN’s breakup with her ex-boyfriend, actor Tom Blyth

view all comments

user13 cant defend yn anymore

➥ user14 she never asked u to defend her stop being delulu..

user15 welp called it, she’s a hoe

user16 doesn’t sean have a gf? not her homewrecking…

user17 acting like all that after she’s single please someone humble her immediately

user18 guys stop sending hate to yn, it’s literally not gonna help anyone. she’s single, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants without you guys being down her back 24/7.

liked by @/tomblyth

➥ user19 hello tom blyth literally liked ur comment??

user20 not tom still being nice to her even after all this. Personally me? Id never take that level of disrespect

ynuser “all because i liked a boy” OUT NOW! This song was originally something else that I put off for a really long time until now, it’s all from my experiences so it makes it very personal for me. I hope you guys like it as much as I do! As always, be kind to yourself and one another ❤️

view all comments

sean.kauf love this, love YOU!

➥ ynuser ❤️❤️

conangray this is a masterpiece

user21 THE REFERENCES TO THE HATE COMMENTS OMG ☹️☹️ this song is so good she doesn’t deserve all the hate she gets

user22 and all of this for what? WHEN EVERYTHIN’ WENT DOWN WE’D ALREADY BROKEN UP

➥ user23 TELL ME WHO I AM GUESS I DONT HAVE A CHOICE

➥ user24 ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOYYYYY

user25 the way tom hasn’t said anything..

[theyluvkarolina]

heyy!!!

can i request lando x volleyball girlie who did vb for two years but has to quit because of a knee injury please? feel free to ignore if this doesn't spark anything!!

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓)

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` it’s giving oikawa from haikyuu ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Volleyball was all you ever known, and everything was looking up in your career, until an injury. Luckily, your boyfriend is there to hope you cope and get better.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lando Norris x Volleyball!Fem!Reader

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌: Maddie Madayag (for volleyball photos)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ mentions of a injury but nothing severe.

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ tysm for the request! I decided to do my own little spin on this with making this a bit more of a crack fic but definitely kept the volleyball and knee injury! Also, this is pretty short! I’m so sorry with the length of this, but i really liked this request and wanted to do it! I hope you enjoy it 🩶 I’ve had my fair share of injuries that led me to quit what i loved, so the fic kinda hits hard for me 🥹 i used to play football/soccer growing up until i pulled my back muscle in my 9th year of school and wasn’t able to play the same ever again, injuries suck 👎

Twitter

(PS: Date on photo does not matter, fic happens between Aus and Japan GP!)

Instagram

y/n_volleys posted a story 3 minutes ago!

username, landonorris, username and other replied to your story!

username1 MISS GIRL.

username2 OMG 😭😭

username3 HELLO??? NOT THE ACL

username4 we’re cooked 😞😞

landonorris THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT YOU INJURED YOURSELF??? landonorris HOLD ON landonorris I’M NOT MESSAGING YOU THROUGH INSTAGRAM DMS. landonorris OPEN MY MESSAGES.

iMessages

Twitter

Instagram

y/n_volleys ✔︎

liked by landonorris, lilymunihe, alexalbon, and others

y/n_volleys success!! surgery went well. heartbroken to be going out like this especially before the olympics but i will be coming back stronger 💪 time to take some time to myself 🫶

3,214 comments

landonorris ✔︎ whatever you do don’t move out of bed before i get home

landonorris ✔︎ drink water

landonorris ✔︎ get sleep

landonorris ✔︎ enjoy your cookie ice cream thing

landonorris ✔︎ don’t exercise too much

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ lando are you my bf or my mom? → landonorris ✔︎ right now i’m being a caring boyfriend 🤨🤨 im sorry i love you 😒 → username5 i want to have love like this. → username6 google, how do i find a bf that cares about me, has a good job, is funny, kind, and loves me more than the world? 🧑‍💻 → lilymunihe ✔︎ @ alexalbon why aren’t you like this with me → alexalbon ✔︎ i literally already am 😕😕 → lilymunihe ✔︎ i don’t see my cookies and ice cream in a mug.

username7 the leg injury is giving oikawa from haikyu

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ …no… no.. NO DON’T TAKE ME BACK TO 2020 → username8 Y/N IS GETTING WAR FLASHBACKS

iMessages

Instagram

y/n_volleys posted a story 24 minutes ago!

lilymunihe, username, username and other replied to your story!

username9 ZOO WEE MAMA 😍 → y/n_volleys that’s my bf 😍😍

username10 GIRL DID YOU HAVE TO POST THIS → y/n_volleys I NEED TO SHOW PEOPLE WHAT THEY ARE MISSING 😣😣

lilymunihe ✔︎ GIRL WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS HERE → y/n_volleys ✔︎ girl fuck them kids 🗣️ ‼️

y/n_volleys ✔︎

liked by landonorris, bsf_username, lailahasanovic and others

y/n_volleys get yourself a bf who takes care of you after tearing you leg apart 🩷

tagged ; landonorris

3,245 comments

username11 they are actually so cute

username12 dumping my bf if he doesn’t do this more me.

oscarpiastri ✔︎what a caption!

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ do you want it in full detail → oscarpiastri ✔︎ no.

carlosainz55 ✔︎ did lando ever finish that puzzle?

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ he did finish it → carlosainz55 ✔︎ …did? → y/n_volleys ✔︎ yeah it was finished BEFORE HE DROPPED IT ON THE FLOOR TRYING TO MOVE IT → landonorris ✔︎ I SAID I WAS SORRY. → y/n_volleys ✔︎ you left your injured gf to clean up the mess 😞😞 → maxfewtrell ✔︎ wooowww lando… @ landonorris → oscarpiastri ✔︎ what a gentleman @ landonorris → carlosainz55 ✔︎ntsk tsk… @ landonorris → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ some boyfriend you are @ landonorris → landonorris ✔︎ LEAVE ME ALONE I WENT TO GO GET THE BROOM → username13 it’s not a good day if y/n and lando fight with each other (lovingly)

lando.jpeg ✔︎

liked by y/n_volleys, carlosainz55, oscarpisatri and others

lando.jpeg gf appreciation post (pre injury photo included 😱)

2,571 comments

y/n_volleys ✔︎ last photo makes this feel like a facebook mom post

y/n_volleys ✔︎ i want to kiss you rn 🥹 i love you so much 🧡

→ lando.jpeg you are literally in the bed next to me rn turn over and kiss me on my hot mouth. i’m feeling romantical → oscarpiastri ✔︎ what did i just read. → y/n_volleys ✔︎ shakespeare 😍

username14 not them playing minecraft together :((

→ username15 but the real question is… did they put their beds next to each other? → y/n_volleys ✔︎ wooooahhhh what kind of unholy person do you think i am??? → lando.jpeg ✔︎ we aren’t insane 🙄 🙄

username16 i wish i was y/n

→ username17 fuck being y/n i want to be lando he has a amzing woman as his gf.

y/n_volleys ✔︎

liked by landonorris, usavwnt and others

y/n_volleys different from my other posts… but I wanted to give a big thank you to all the fans, my family, and friends for the nonstop support for me and overcoming thi injury. I can’t wait to be back in rehab training for you all to see me back on the court 🩷 lots of love!! 🥹

3,501 comments

usavwnt ✔︎ glad to see you improve and get better! see you back on the court!! 💪

Liked by y/n_volleys!

username18 not the free feet pics 😣😣

username19 y/n and lando are such cutie

username20 i’m so happy to see her get the support she needs ❤️‍🩹

landnorris ✔︎ and where is my shout out and tag???

→ y/n_volleys ✔︎ i’d also love to give a big shout out to my amazing, brunet, curly haired, British, born in Bristol boyfriend, who lives in Monaco and treats me like a princess, and is the kindest, sweetest, funniest man I’ve ever met in my life who also happens to be a f1 driver ❤️ → landnorris ✔︎ much better 😋😋 → oscarpiastri ✔︎ aw (i’m going to throw up if you keep kissing in the garage) → y/n_volleys ✔︎ ..oscar… I thought we agreed to keep that between us three… → oscarpiastri ✔︎ whoops → username21 bro outed them and said “whoops” 💀💀

[mellifiedprincess]

hey queens :) i do not know how i feel about this one, but i had a little urge to write something and this is what i came up with. teehee. so pls let me know your thoughts! i’m also thinking about writing a little smutty fic about mr. ethan landry, but i’m not that good at smut so we’ll see.

ethan landry x reader

Fuck Ups and Make Ups

“Why do you look so….dead?” You would usually laugh at how blunt Mindy is, but today. Today you were not in a laughing mood. You were having one of the worsts days ever.

“Unfortunately, I’m not dead yet. But! If someone wants to take me out back and shoot me, I would not oppose.” You deadpan.

You watch as Mindy and Anika’s eyes widen, and Tara just looks at you even more confused than before. “Yeah, like your pretty boy would let anyone touch a hair on your head.” Chad states while texting someone. “Seriously though, what’s going on?” He asks as he puts his phone away, letting you know you have his full attention.

“Pretty boy is what’s going on!” You exclaim, slamming your head down on the picnic table. “Huh?”

You say something else, but it’s barely coherent. “Honey, you gotta lift your head up for us to understand you.”

You lift your head up and let out a huff, bringing your knees to your chest, you hug them tight to bring some form of comfort to yourself. “He likes someone else.” If the sadness in your voice wasn’t enough, the sad look on your face was, to make Chad want to get up, find Ethan, and knock some fucking sense into him.

For months. Months, the group has been trying to push Ethan to ask you out. It was so painfully obvious that you both had feelings for one another. And yes, you could ask him out yourself, but you were just too shy. You also didn’t really believe that he could actually like you back. I mean, he was literal perfection in your eyes.

“Why do you think that? Did something happen between you two?” Anika asks, moving from her spot on the ground to sit beside you, wrapping her arms around your body.

“I saw him talking to the new girl, Kennedy, in our sociology class yesterday, and they seemed to really be hitting it off. And then today, instead of sitting beside me, like he always does, he sat by her. I tried to talk to him after class, but he said he was busy and couldn’t talk to me right now and then rushed to catch up with Kennedy.” At this point you had a few tears fall. You were heartbroken by your pretty boy.

“I saw them together too! At our coffee spot, at our table. Like, why would he do that?” You let your head fall to Anika’s shoulder, and she places a chaste kiss to your head. “Why don’t we find out right now? Cause he’s on his way over here.” But before you could turn to look, Chad jumps up to block your view, and you feel Anika push your head back down to her shoulder.

“What’s up guys? I saw your text about Y/N, is she okay?” And for a few seconds, you felt relief. Relief that he did still care. Until you heard her. “Yeah, we had to cut our date short, so Ethan could play therapist.”

“I’m sorry, who are you again?” You could hear the bite in Chads tone. “Oh! I’m Kennedy. Ethan’s told me all about you guys. You must be the condescending alpha. It’s Chad, right?” If you could have seen Ethan’s face, you would have laughed. “Wait- I never said that.” Kennedy looks up at Ethan, fluttering her eyelashes and pouts her lips. “I’m just teasing E!” E? She’s known Ethan for two days and is already calling him by E?

“Can we go now? I’m sure whatever her name is can figure her shit out without you.” Your eyes only widen more. “Ethan, I really think you should talk to Y/N first.” Chad was almost begging Ethan not to leave with Kennedy. There’s a pregnant pause, but you couldn’t see what was going on due to Chad blocking your figure.

“Y/N’s an adult, she can’t rely on me for everything.” Ethan’s words hit you right in the chest. It hurt. It hurt so bad, you couldn’t breathe. Mindy noticed the state you were in and knew you couldn’t talk to Ethan right now. “What the fuck is your problem, dude?” She says as she stands up next to Chad.

“My problem is all of you! You’re all just pissed at me because I’m with someone who’s not Y/N. For months, you have all been on my dick about my feelings for her and how i need to man up and just tell her how I feel, how I need to go ahead and ask her out before it’s too late, but have you ever thought that I don’t fucking want to?” He was digging himself into a hole. He didn’t mean that, not at all. But to you it didn’t matter. He said what he said, and you heard all of it.

“You won’t have to worry about that anymore. Because I never want to see you again.” Ethan’s face pales when he finally notices you there. The fact that he just said all of that in front of you, makes him want someone to take him out back and shoot him. “Wait! Y/N, that didn’t come out the way I wanted it to.”

You almost laugh, and you would have if it weren’t for the doleful feeling in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes. “Leave her alone, man. You’ve said enough.” Chad places a firm hand on Ethan’s chest, stopping him from going after you. “I hope you’re happy. Cause you just lost the person who cares most about you in this world.” Tara’s words hit Ethan hard. He knew they were true, but it still hurt nonetheless.

But there was no way he was gonna let you go, not without fighting for you.

———

It had been two weeks. Two very long, sad weeks. Ethan was a mess, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He still texted you every morning right when he woke up, and every night before he fell asleep. And every time, you would read his message, but never responded.

He hated himself for making you cry, and the look on your face is one he would never forget.

It was also hard for your friends to see how this effected the both of you. You barely left your bed. Only really leaving for classes. The one time you did leave for something other than that, was when Tara and Chad literally dragged you out of your room for a movie night.

Mindy told you that you were better off anyway, but she didn’t know Ethan like you did. You weren’t better off, and there were so many times you almost called him. Just to hear his voice, because it was the only thing that calmed you down after one of your night terrors. They had been more frequent as of late, probably to do with the fact you didn’t have your pretty boy anymore.

But, you never called. You never responded to any of his messages either. The words he spoke all those weeks ago, hurt you more than when Amber stood over your body, thinking she had killed you after her brutal attack.

And here you are now, sitting in front of your friends, who somehow convinced you to have a study picnic with them. They’ve barely looked at their textbooks and notes, too concerned about you to pay them any attention. You haven’t spoken barely a full sentence the whole time you’ve been with them, you have bags under your eyes, and you just don’t seem as glowy as you usually do. You looked exhausted.

“Staring me down won’t make you guys any more prepared for these exams coming up.” You state, not even bothering to look up from your notes. “We’re just worried about you Y/N/N. You just aren’t acting like yourself.” Anika’s voice is soft, almost like she’s afraid she’ll scare you off. “I just haven’t been getting enough sleep. I’ll be fine once exams are over with.”

They all knew you were lying. They all knew you were still heartbroken, and they all knew how much you missed your pretty boy.

…Which is why Chad texted him and told him where you were.

Ethan was in class when he got Chads text. Usually his phone would be off, but he’s had it on everyday since your fight just in case you finally texted him back.

“You better fix things with our pretty girl, she’s not okay and I’m only doing this because we all miss seeing her smile. She’s here studying at the quad with us, don’t fuck this up again.”

Ethan was jumping from his seat the second he finished reading the text. Catching a few odd looks from the people around him, but he didn’t care. He just wanted his girl, who was never officially his girl, back.

Everything he thought he was gonna say left his mind as soon as he got to you. You looked absolutely miserable, and when your friends looked up at him, they couldn’t believe how miserable he looked too.

You held your face in your hands as tears of exhaustion fell down your cheeks. You felt like a baby. But you finally hit your breaking point, sobbing uncontrollably. You couldn’t breath and all you wanted was the comfort of Ethan’s arms around you. “Y/N/N? What do you need us to do?” Tara tried to comfort you the best she could, running her hands up and down your arms.

“Can someone please get Ethan? I just really need him right now.” At your words everyone looked up at him with a look of, ‘we will kill you if you don’t fix this.’

He almost tripped over his own feet trying to get to you as quick as possible. “I’m already here, angel.” He said softly as he kneeled down beside you. He then slowly removed your hands from your eyes, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his shoulders and shove your face into his neck.

“I’m gonna take you back to my place, okay?” Ethan could tell you’ve barely slept, and you always said you got the best sleep with him in his bed. “Okay.” You mumble out, before pulling away from the comfort of Ethan’s embrace.

———

After bidding your friends goodbye, Ethan grabs your hand in his and doesn’t let go until you’ve made it inside his dorm. His eyes follow your form as you make your way to his room, he had so much he wanted to say to you, but was afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

When you reach his room, you go straight for his closet, wanting to be out of the uncomfortable jeans and crop top. Your hands delicately run across Ethan’s shirts, missing the feeling of the material on your skin. It’s dumb, you think. How a simple piece of clothing can bring you so much comfort, all because of who it belonged to.

“Oh, here! I put your favorite t-shirt away so nothing would happen to it. I’ll be right back.” Ethan hands you the old graphic tee, before going into his adjoined bathroom. You quickly change and sit down on his bed, already feeling the tension leaving your body.

When Ethan returns, he’s also changed into comfier clothes. He’s also holding a pack of makeup wipes, that he always kept there just in case you needed them.

He sits against the headboard, eyes meeting yours before patting his lap, signaling for you to take perch in. “Come here.” He says softly, dark eyes never leaving yours. You tiredly make your way over to him, not really knowing what to expect. But he only opens the pack of make-up wipes and with a touch so soft, you barely feel it, he wipes your ruined makeup off. And even though he’s done this for you a million times before, this time feels so incredibly different.

Ethan thinks he’s somehow fucked up again, as he noticed the slight wobble of your lips, followed by tears gathering in your eyes once again. He drops the wipe, and cups your face instead. You feel the pads of his thumbs wipe your fallen tears and you can’t help but ask, “Why did you say it?”

And he just looks at you. Big brown doe eyes, staring right into your soul.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.” He gives you a sad smile, rubbing his knuckles against your cheek. “And when I realized how in love with you I actually am, I got scared. And I’m still scared, because if there’s one thing I’m really good at, it’s fucking up all the good things I have in my life. It’s not an excuse for how I acted, and I wish I would have just told you how I felt instead of causing all of this. Instead of causing tears to fall down your pretty face.” You could tell by the conviction in his voice he meant every word he said.

“I just-“ He pauses and continues to look at you, waiting for you to reject him. Waiting for you to tell him it’s too late and the damage is done, and there’s no repairing it.

Instead, you lean forward and place a hand on his chest for support, before placing your lips on his.

Ethan stops breathing for a few seconds. He couldn’t believe he was finally kissing the girl of his dreams. He couldn’t believe that a fuck up like him, got someone like you. And the kiss. The kiss was just how you both imagined it would be. Slow at first, learning the others patterns, but once you figured it out, it became more heated. You could feel the others want, you could feel every ounce of love the two of you had for each other.

After a few more pecks, you pull away. “I’m in love with you too, E.” Ethan’s face lights up, and he just smiles at you. “Does this mean I can officially call you my girlfriend?” You giggle and nod with a smile as big as his. “Yes, pretty boy. You can call me your girlfriend.”

Ethan wraps his arms around you, and moves your body to lay down with him. Your head immediately going to his chest as you feel his fingers run through your hair. “Well I have a lot of making up to do, so to start off, let’s get you to sleep. Because I know you haven’t been sleeping like you should.” “Do I look that awful?” You ask, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

“No, sweet girl. You look beautiful. But I know you won’t go to anyone else about your night terrors, and your body language is off. Now, just close your eyes and go to sleep. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Okay.” And for a second it’s completely silent. Ethan thinking you had already fallen asleep places a kiss to your forehead and brings you closer to his chest. “I love you so much.” He whispers, finally closing his tired eyes.

“I love you too.”

[delfiore]

—ONE OF YOUR GIRLS.

pairing: lucy bronze x reader, (alexia putellas x reader)

synopsis: the only reason is simply because you are both heartbroken, lonely, and desperate.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i gave myself a 1k word limit on this and i failed miserably. literally why is it so hard for me to write a 1k essay for school but not this

You started to learn Lucy’s routine only a few weeks after she started coming around. Like clockwork, it didn’t matter how late you went to bed, she would always be up before eight. Sometimes, it would be to go downstairs for a swim in the freezing cold outdoor pool in her apartment complex. “Helps me wake up and think clearer”, she would explain. Sometimes, it would just be to sit in the living room with a coffee in hand, watching videos of the team you and her would be playing later in the day. Other times—and it was always a treat when she did—it would be to stay in bed with you, and watch you wake up.

Those were the times in which you felt like what you had with Lucy resembled most like a relationship, due to the sheer amount of domesticity of it. The way she would take time out of the day to lay a few extra minutes with you made it feel concrete like what you were doing was worth the time. But that wasn’t the goal—a relationship.

“I forgot to bring my stuff last night,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the lack of gear you brought over to Lucy’s apartment. You had hastily stuffed the necessities into a crossbody bag when she texted.

“It’s alright. We can drive by later and pick it up on our way to training.”

“We’re gonna arrive together? What if people see?”

Everyone else at Barcelona didn’t know, of course, because you couldn’t even begin to explain what the fuck transpired between you two. It was no relationship, but it was no ordinary friendship either. A special kind of friendship, maybe, but not entirely the kind people would think of if you described it as such . . .

Lucy’s lips pursed, and she contemplated for a moment. After a few seconds, she turned towards the window, the morning sun washed white behind the milky blinds.

“I don’t really care, to be honest,” her chest rose quickly with an exhale. “Why have we got to explain ourselves to people anyway? Kinda tired of it.”

You knew she meant having to deal with the looks her ex would give her. She had been chasing after Keira, trying to make amends for a long time. You knew that, she told you everything.

It made you think about your own situation. You were still very much in love with your own ex, but Alexia has since moved on with a mutual friend, and your conversations were reduced to strictly work nowadays. The way she started treating you after the breakup wasn’t dissimilar to how an older teenager treats her younger, annoying little sibling; with avoidance and an overly sense of self-importance. It made you despise her ten times more than you already did, but you also yearned for her attention, because it was what you have aligned your life with for a while.

But you supposed you had a type—older women with avoidance issues—which was why you were here with Lucy.

“Keira asked me about you the other day,” you said on the car ride to the training ground. You sat in Lucy’s passenger seat. “She was wondering how you were doing. Said you never talk to her anymore.”

Lucy scoffed and turned back to you. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like how you actually look so fit in my shirt.”

You let the snort escape your nose but leaned towards her in the passenger seat. “It’s literally a plain black T-shirt, Luce.”

“‘Xactly,” Her cheeks creased with a grin. “Makes me almost want to fancy you.”

“Almost.”

“Almost,” Lucy said.

Almost.

You and Lucy have always had a friendship filled with banter. Heart-to-hearts rarely happened—maybe before and after important matches, or international ones in which one of you had to be the loser—but you appreciated her easygoing nature and how it has shaped your relationship.

If you were a bit closer in age, if you weren’t already with Alexia, and she with Keira at the same time, you reckoned you would have gone for her. You’d always found her attractive.

“You’re too young for me, Y/N,” Lucy had told you once.

“I’m just saying,” you had put your hands up. “If you’re ever desperate enough, I could be like one of your girls.”

Lucy only laughed. Perhaps desperate was the wrong word to use. Lucy Bronze could never get that desperate so as to seek you out for company. No, everything would have to be on her terms.

You agreed with her, though. A nine-year age gap might have been a bit too much, but Lucy wasn’t just like any other 32-year-old.

But you were in love with Alexia. You still were, and your coupling with Lucy might have just been a ploy to piss her off, but your captain didn’t need to know that. Just seeing the not-so-subtle looks she sends your way whenever you are too touchy with Lucy was enough to satiate your grudge.

It seemed the joke wasn’t merely a joke, not to Lucy, because one night, she called you. You had never seen Lucy cry, at least not in person, and she was the type of person to let people see her cry only for her profession, never something in her personal life.

Every joke on your tongue died the moment you saw her blotchy, red face at your front door.

“I didn’t know who else to call.”

Really?

She could have called anyone on the team and they would happily offer her comfort. That was the charisma that Lucy wielded, and you were willing to bet there were other members of the team who were much better than you at comforting someone.

“I think I’m just unlovable.”

You led her inside and offered her a glass of water. I think I’m just unlovable. Her words echoed in your mind as you scrambled to find any words that would be comforting to her at that moment. How do you convince someone that they weren’t their flaws when you yourself struggled with the same insecurities? If Lucy even had those doubts about herself, how could you ever get out of it?

“I think I’m unlovable too.”

You didn’t know whether that was comforting or just rubbing salt in her wound, but Lucy exhaled shakily, for the first time looking at you in a way unlike that of teammates, or even friends.

Unlike a friend would, you lifted your hand and wiped away the tear on her cheek with the pad of your thumb, and unlike a friend would, you leaned in and kissed her slowly.

Kissing Lucy was exhilarating. She was eager and rough, and soft and gentle. It made you almost want to fall in love with her. She was tired, so you climbed on her lap and led the way, and all her burdens faded into oblivion, at least for the night.

When you both arrived at training, only a few of your teammates were there in the locker room, and most of them didn’t seem to notice you coming in together anyway. Pina, though, found you across the room.

“Did you hear?” She said quietly.

“What?”

“Alexia has been with the physios since like 9 this morning.”

“Why? What happened?” You tried not to sound too eager, or worried.

“I don’t know, but I walked past and I think she was crying.”

When you came into the rehab center, a physio greeted you with a smile. You returned it as your eyes quickly found the only person lying down on a bed, hiding her face in the crook of her arm.

“Hey, capitana,” you said in Spanish. “You sleep here last night or something?”

You saw the way her jaw ticked, and looking down, noticed the bandages wrapped around her knee, the ACL one.

“You didn’t happen to bring any coffee in, did you?” She said groggily. “I could use a sip.”

“No coffee, sorry. I’m trying to wean myself off of it.”

“You said that a thousand times before.”

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned against the bed. “What’s wrong?”

She let out a sigh and removed her arm. “They’re making me sit out Saturday’s game. They’re scared I might mess something up.”

You nodded, because you understood exactly why. Another ACL problem would be detrimental to her career in ways that you didn’t want to think about. “It’s better to be sure,” you shrugged.

“I’ve fucked my knee, Y/N,” Alexia said, inhaling shakily. “That’s what it is.”

You couldn’t imagine having to live with the anxiety, tiptoeing around your own knees, afraid it might give out any second again. Even the smallest discomfort could spell trouble, and the slightest movement could trigger the injury to worsen.

You opted not tell Lucy about your conversation with Alexia, because you wanted to keep it to yourself. As useless as that might be, that was the first genuine conversation you’ve had with your ex in about a year. You’ve learned not to take it to heart, though, because you knew you’d disappoint yourself when Alexia eventually goes back to treating you like a kid.

You made a conscious effort not to think about her when you called Lucy over for a hookup, but when she was knuckles-deep inside you, you couldn’t think of anything else but the pleasure.

Laying back and staring at the ceiling, you drew deep breaths as you came down from your high.

“You okay?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Hold me?”

She smiled and gathered you in her arms before kissing you sweetly. “Did something happen with Alexia?”

“No.” Nothing happened, really, but maybe it was because nothing happened that made you so distraught. “Maybe in another universe, where you’re not you and I’m not me, I would take you on a date tomorrow, maybe we’d be happier.”

“Well, why won’t you do it in this universe?”

You shrugged and settled back against her chest. “Because I’m me and you’re you. But mostly, because I am me.”

Lucy didn’t answer. She knew as much as anyone that once you’ve made your mind up, there was no swaying it, and that she didn’t have the energy in her to either. Instead, she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, wishing you’d find it in you somewhere to see yourself the way she sees you.

It would take some time until then, though, as only a few weeks later, she saw you hand-in-hand with Alexia coming to practice. Apparently, Alexia’s girlfriend was no more and you got what you wanted. It was okay, though, because Lucy found comfort in Ona, about to go on a second date with her the next day. You might have almost gotten the love you’d always desired with her, but it was just that, an almost.

[marleemutt]

TLDR: im a black trans artist who can use some help right now following the sudden passing of my only sister - her doberman is now the responsibility of my parents and we can use help for his food, supplements, toys etc.

Kofi (help me send Chewy orders to my parent's house)

Wishlist (literally send him things like toys, treats, etc.)

⬇️ more info ⬇️

hey guys

some of you might be aware of this already, but early October, my eldest sibling & only sister suddenly passed away due to a seizure, she had been dealing with epilepsy her whole life.

this has been incredibly difficult for me, and my family. her passing was incredibly sudden, she was only 30.

for the past month or so ive been struggling to find any motivation to draw, and barely able to work.

she was the incredibly devoted owner of a doberman named Remi(Ramsey). Me and my sister traveled 4 hours to pick him up three years ago. He's a goofball who tears up socks and needs constant supervision. My parents love him, but I can tell he is a lot of work for two people who have fulltime jobs and have lived long lives.

I'm going to try to help them take care of him as much as possible, I feel that it's the least we can do to honor my sister's memory, since she loved him so deeply.

My sister always wanted a doberman, for years she would watch videos about dobermans and talk about them to anyone who would listen.

Remi wasn't easy to raise - I shared a room with my sister when she got him in 2020, she still worked a 9-5, five days a week, so I was his nanny for most of his difficult childhood. I was his chew toy for the first year of his life about - but that only made him bond closer to me. If he wasn't following my sister, I was choice #2. Dobermans are "velcro dogs", they were bred to guard their owners, and because of this, they are fiercely loyal. I've been moved out of my parent's place for going on 3 years, and my sister had just moved with Remi out a few months prior to her passing.

A week before my sister's sudden passing, we had to board Remi at my dog daycare job while my family and I took a trip out of state. When dropping him off, although he was happy to see me again for the first time in months, the moment my sister turned her back to him he began to panic. He got through the boarding all right but my coworkers told me he would cry and wait by the door for me or her. When my sister picked him up, they said he jumped all 80+lbs into her arms.

Since my sister's passing, Remi has been directionless. He's with my family, people he trusts, but he's bored, confused, and heartbroken. My sister would often take him to the dog park, social events, on runs, etc. but my parent's can't do that in their age. If my apartment allowed large dogs, I would take him, but I can't, and I see him maybe twice a month if possible.

Ramsey's Christmas List

I made a christmas list for him of things that might help my parents better take care of him. We're trying different food brands out because he struggles with frequent stomach issues, and we can't seem to figure out what food my sister was feeding him. This list is by no means a necessity for him, but I tried to add things to help with his boredom and keep him stimulated when my parents can't give him all their attention.

i do want to state that my family is capable of providing him with the essentials to live, we arent irresponsible. i would just like to help my parents out since a 3 year old 80-90lb doberman is a lot of work to be suddenly placed on them soley. And I worry for his health and well-being sometimes - Remi has a tendency to eat/tear random objects when he's bored.

please consider donating whatever you can. Everything goes directly to him.

thank you for taking the time to read this, and possibly reblog if possible. ❤️

[theemissuniverse]

“YOU ARE MY SOUL” LIU KANG X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : You find out Liu Kang loved Kitana in another timeline and you’re angry. In the previous timeline, you were in love with Liu Kang and heartbroken over this. Also you’re one of Earthrealm’s champions

WARNINGS : MINORS DONT INTERACT. angsty but happy endings for everyone! oral f receiving, praise kink, p in v, edging, some other stuff I probably forgot

You were beyond mad. How could he keep this from you? How could he pretend that all was well in the universe?

Liu Kang had now finally revealed about him creating this timeline. He also thought it was time to tell you about the last one. That he was actually in love with someone else. A goddamn princess specifically.

As if you weren’t already insecure enough about the relationship. Your boyfriend was a goddamn Fire God. You couldn’t compete with that. Now you couldn’t compete with an Outworld princess.

You walked through your house, completely trying to ignore Liu Kang but Liu Kang kept following you. “My love, my past life means nothing as of now.”

You scoffed. You go into the kitchen and grabbed some things out so you could get started on dinner. “Give me a break. You were in love with goddamn Princess Kitana.”

Liu Kang watched as you angrily grabbed food out to make dinner. Nothing made him feel more guilty than this. He didn’t regret telling you. You had a right to know. He just hated how the whole situation turned out. “Everything was different in the last timeline.”

“Yeah, I bet everything was different. Hey, here’s a question-if you and Kitana were out having the time of your lives, where the fuck was I?”

If Liu Kang could throw up, he would. He didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t want you to feel bad about yourself. You again, still had your right to know. “You were in love with me…and you died for me.”

Your eyes went wide eyed at the reveal. You threw down the food that was in your hands on the kitchen counter. “Let me get this straight-you get to bone a literal princess while I get to be obsessed with you to the point of my death? Great.”

You went to the sink and started to wash your hands. You couldn’t feel anymore humiliated. Like you were a joke. Did he only date you because he felt sorry for you? “Are you only with me because you couldn’t get Kitana in this timeline?”

Liu Kang immediately shook his head. “Not at all, my love.” He came up behind you and gently rubbed on your neck to release some tension. “I did not plan for you to fall in love with me this time and I also did not plan for myself to fall in love with you. But I did. You are truly amazing, (Y/N). I wouldn’t have anyone but you. I’m sorry for making you feel this way.”

You were even more mad now because your anger was dying. Not only because of his words but how his hands worked your body. “Don’t do that. Don’t talk all sweet to me and rub up on my body. It’s not gonna work this time.” You said, drying your hands with the rag that was next to you.

Liu Kang’s hands went to your hips and he started to kiss your neck. “You are the only one I desire, (Y/N). The only one that I love. Please, let me show you how much I love you.”

Liu Kang brought you back into him. His hand easily slipped in your sweatpants and into your underwear. He found his way to your clit and started to rub it in circles.

You moaned. Liu Kang continued to kiss and suck on your neck. It was like all your anger for him was gone and you hated it. You hated how he made you feel.

“Oh my god…This is not going to get you out of trouble.” Your sentence was cut off when you felt Liu Kang pick you up.

He took you all the way to the bedroom and gently placed you down on the bed. Liu Kang kissed your lips sweetly before going back to your neck and sucking on it. You moaned louder. “Liu…”

Liu Kang pulled away and took your sweatpants off. Then went with your underwear. He bent down and spread your legs only to then start to eat you out.

“Oh fuck. Liu Kang.” Your hands went immediately on his head and you tugged on his hair.

Liu Kang’s hands were wrapped around your thighs. He tasted you like it was his favorite meal in the world. His tongue danced on your clit several times before licking up all your juices.

He started to suck on your clit. You tugged on his hair even harder. “Oh my…” Liu Kang was the only one that could get you to feel like this and you hated it.

Liu Kang rubbed on your thighs. Your whole body to him was a work of art. All he wanted was you. All he loved was you.

He slurped all your juices and pulled away from your delicious pussy. Liu Kang licked his fingers slightly and stuck them inside of you, going in and out.

You threw your head back. Liu Kang allowed you to grip on his bicep as he used his incredible God-like powers on you. The sex was always more overwhelming and pleasurable because he was a God.

Liu Kang watched you as you fucked yourself on his fingers and he admitted it was one of the most beautiful things in the world to him.

“Liu Kang. I need you. Please.”

Liu Kang didn’t stop fingering you. “What do you want, love?”

“Fill me up, please.”

Liu Kang stopped. He started to take off his pants and underwear. Once his bottom half was completely naked, he grabbed your thighs and wrapped them around him. “Are you ready, darling?” He saw you nod and then entered you.

Liu Kang stretched you out so well. You moaned as he entered you. He gave you one passionate but sloppy kiss on the lips before starting to move in you.

He loved making love to you. For him, it was one of the best things in the world. He loved to make you feel good. He loved that you would fall apart underneath him. He loved that you were his. He didn’t plan to give you up anytime soon.

“Faster. Please.”

Liu Kang listened to you and started to fuck you faster and a bit harder to your liking. He continued to have your legs wrapped around him as he made love to you. “My goddess, you look absolutely stunning like this.” Liu Kang lifted your shirt and rubbed all over your stomach. “I could not give you up if I tried. You are mine and I am yours.”

Him speaking so beautifully to you always turned you on even more. You whimpered at his words. Liu Kang felt your pussy clench around his dick and he grunted a little.

Liu Kang never really showed reactions during sex as he was a God, had control of himself, and has been alive since the dawn of time. He knew you hated that he would show no reaction and was trying to change that.

Liu let out his moans. You did feel good around him despite his God nature trying to hide it. To be honest, he already felt like he had to cum. He was lucky that he was a God and he could hold it for however long he needed to until you came.

“Oh my god. You make me feel so good. Please don’t ever stop.”

Liu Kang listened to you. It was like heaven to his ears. His hand was still on your stomach. He gave you light rubs as he fucked you. “You’re the only woman that can make me feel like this. You’re the only woman I desire to make feel good.” His pace sped up and he was hitting your good spot. “I am yours.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘O’ shape as he hit your good spot. You couldn’t even put it into words. You just flung your head back and closed your eyes.

Liu Kang continued to mercilessly hit your spot. “Say it. I’m yours.”

You knew if you didn’t, Liu Kang wouldn’t let up. “You’re mine. You’re all mine. Fuck, Liu Kang.”

God, you looked too good like this. Liu Kang slowed up the pace a little so he wasn’t constantly hitting your good spot. “You’re too good for me, my love. I don’t deserve you.” Liu Kang felt your pussy clench again and he grunted. He tried to slow up but he couldn’t resist you anymore. He started to pound into you harder.

“Oh, fuck. Liu Kang. Yes, yes, yes.” You loved when Liu Kang lost control inside of you. “Fuck this pussy. It’s yours all yours.”

Liu Kang felt like he could cum any second and was once again glad of his god-like ability. “Mine.” He gripped onto your thighs. “All mine.” He continued to fuck you hard and fast. “Nobody can have you but me.”

Liu Kang being possessive was the hottest thing in the world to you. You tugged on Liu Kang’s shirt, indicating for him to bend down and kiss you. Liu Kang understood and bent down to kiss you.

The two of you moaned as he went relentlessly in you. He didn’t even break a sweat at how fast he was going.

“I’m so close.” You said in the kiss.

Liu Kang was glad you were but he was going to do something he had never done: deny you to cum. “Hold it.”

Your eyes widen a little at this. “Liu, I can’t hold it.”

“Yes you can.” Liu Kang placed another soft kiss on your lips before focusing back on his pace. “I love you more than anyone and anything. Do you believe me?”

Your fingernails dug into Liu Kang’s back. “Yes, baby. I believe you. Please.”

Liu Kang did not let up on his pace. “Tell me your mine.”

“I’m yours. Fuck, Liu Kang. I’m all yours. Please. It feels too good.”

Liu Kang brushed away the tears that were welling up in your eyes. “Remember that the next time you question my love for you. Now cum.”

When Liu Kang felt you cum on him, he released into you. He continued going until you both were done.

Liu Kang pulled out of you. He gave you sweet butterfly kisses on your face, making you giggle. “I’ll start a bath for you.”

He tried to get up but you made him stay on top of you. “Not yet. Just hold me.”

Liu Kang kissed your cheek. “As you wish, my love.” He intertwined his fingers with yours and held your hand. “You are my everything. My soul. Do not forget that.”

You smiled at him. “I won’t.”

[dear-bunnyboo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.

all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.

new format!! this would be the youtube or interview format, hope you enjoy cause I literally had to watch and copy the transcript of this interview from YouTube 😩 but Ily guys so it’s fine 🩵

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your interview all the way from Los Angeles, Joe’s press conference back at Cincinnati, and the fans speculating all over the globe.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, interviews, press, media, haters, talk of past relationship, mentions of cheating ex, rumors, fluff, slight angst, mentions of crying, instigation

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐓𝐮𝐛𝐞

Los Angeles, California

Intro - Zach: Hello, beautiful human! Thank you for clicking on our conversation with Y/N Y/L/N— we have an entire album to dissect, it’s called Teardrops there’s a link in the description below if you haven’t heard it yet and while your down there please hit the like and leave your honest feedback in the comment section below and subscribe!

Zach: Hello, beautiful human! I am Zach Sang and that is Dan Zola and today we welcome, someone who’s dominating the charts and the music industry right now— Y/N Y/L/N! (*Zach and Dan starts clapping*)

Y/N: Hello! Hi, Zach, hey Dan— it’s been a while since I’ve last been here.

Zach: I know it has been a year and a half since your first appearance in the Zach Sang Show and we missed you, dude.

Y/N: I’ve missed you guys too, you guys are the best interviewers out there.

Dan: Really?

Zach: Are we really?

Y/N: You don’t ask me dumb questions, so yeah. (*chuckles*)

Zach: Well, thank you. We have lots to discuss today— you’re album Teardrops being one of those topics today, we’ll also be talking about your tour— Wonderland Tour which is ongoing currently, and more personal questions to finish if you don’t mind.

Y/N: Yeah, let’s get to it.

Zach: So, Teardrops, this album is years in the making, right? Two years at least, right?

Y/N: Yeah, almost two years but a year and a half to be more specific.

Zach: Can you tell us more as to why you kept pushing it back? And why you decided that now was the perfect time to release it?

Y/N: Well, I’ve always known a year and a half ago that I would be making this album. I already have written the songs for it at the time— and originally I was gonna release it last year but I am a perfectionist, so I decided to push it back a little. Cause I really do value the quality of my work, so I had to.

Then a few months ago, a lot had happened— life happened and I was in a really dark place in my life that I had no choice but put all of it on hold which I hated doing but I needed to do it for the sake of my sanity and then at one point I decided to scrap all the songs I had on the album— this album was originally going to be called Angel which had songs with completely different vibes as to what I have now but I decided to archive them for now because of my circumstances.

Zach: Oh wow, so you have a completely different album you had to archive. Can I ask what pushed that decision? Why not just stick to the original plan?

Y/N: Like I said, something happened in my personal life that pushed me to do so. My song making process involves a lot of emotion for me— I feel a lot. So whenever I’m happy or angry or sad or heartbroken, just whenever I feel an intense emotion I just start writing.

It just flows out of me and at first they are just lyrics and I piece them together, produce the melody and beats and then they become a song. When all the drama and chaos started happening to me a few months ago— I just kept writing. Writing and writing until I managed to make thirteen new songs.

Song writing is my way of grieving in a way and moving on from those emotions and experiences— so, changing the album completely was important for my grieving process in a way.

Don: Wow.

Zach: Yeah, wow! Dan just expressed everything in one word— wow. I don’t want to touch on that experience of yours cause i know how fresh it still is but hopefully we can touch on it a little when we dissect the songs— but before we start with the album dissection, do you think you’ll ever release the original album— Angel?

Y/N: (*smiles*) Uhm, as of now, no. I’m not sure when I’ll be doing that or if I’ll be doing that. It depends— someday maybe.

Zach: That’s fine— take all the time you need. So, let’s start talking about the album in detail. Teardrops, why that title? Why change it from Angel to Teardrops?

Y/N: I wanted to change everything from the original album— everything. So that meant the tracks, the title, the visuals, the concept. Everything.

I named it Teardrops because all I did while making this album was cry (*awkward laugh*). I was crying writing each song, cried when I produced each melody, cried after recording— it was a lot. Each song represents the tears I’ve shed in a way— which is why I called it Teardrops.

Zach: That’s amazing, what a process.

Dan: It really is.

Y/N: Thank you so much.

Zach: So, track 1— Raindrops (an angel cried.), please introduce us to this song.

Y/N: Ok, so, Raindrops is a short intro to the album. The name Angel is a name I was called a lot by– a person in my life and I wanted the intro to set the tone for the entire album, so that the listeners would know what they are getting into musically.

My mom used to say when I was young that the reason it would rain was because angels were crying and a couple of months ago an angel did cry— she cried and cried and cried.

Zach: Let me just say this track— is heavenly. That’s the word that seems to enter my head when I hear it.

Y/N: Thank you and that’s good. That’s the vibe I was going for— an almost angelic sounding production, without instruments or any melody at the back just my voice and an echo— it’s perfect.

Zach: Next we have, track 2— Selfish–

Y/N: Yeah, but I actually want to explain track 2 and 3 together— Selfish and Reckless.

Zach: Oh, go ahead. Please.

Y/N: Track 2— Selfish and Track 3— Reckless we’re actually written together which is why i’ll be talking about them together.

Selfish and Reckless are songs about regret and realization. The realization that you were with someone so selfish and reckless at the same time— it’s about– (*chuckles*) when I found out about the drama, those were the two words that came into my head— selfish and reckless then I just started writing.

They are twins almost (*laughs*) you have to listen to them one after the other to get the gist of the emotion and story I was trying to express.

Dan: I just want to say, I really love the intro to Reckless— the music box element. Why did you choose that sound and element to add to the song?

Y/N: That’s a great question. I have a couple songs on this album that has a very Disney feel to it almost— like a fairytale vibe that I really loved. I mean that is the concept I was going for, a fairytale theme. Everything about Reckless was heavily inspired by Tinkerbell, the fairly like aspect of it— the music box at the beginning made it it come to life.

Zach: Why a fairytale concept though?

Y/N: Well, fairytales aren’t real, aren’t they? (*smirks*)

Zach: Oh? So it wasn’t real? Is that what your implying? (*Zach and Dan smirk back understanding what you were implying*)

Y/N: That’s the thing about fairytales— for little children it’s real up until it isn’t anymore. It’s the same for me. (*smiles*)

Zach: Are we still talking about fairytales? (*laughs*)

Y/N: We are! We are.

Zach: Ok. The next song, track 4— Dangerous. What can you tell us about that?

Y/N: It’s one of my favorites. One of the fairytale-like songs that I was talking about. It’s a ballad, the melody reminds me of those Disney songs that would play when the Princess and the Prince are dancing but in contrast to that the lyrics are very sad.

Zach: What is it about?

Y/N: Zach seriously (*chuckles*) everyone knows what it is about.

Zach: (*laughing*) Moving on to track 5— Safety Net ft Ty Dolla $ign— your first feature in this album and by the way, let me just say that this is my favorite track.

Y/N: Thank you, I actually contacted Ty and asked him to be in it because I felt that his voice and style matched the song so well— and yeah, Safety Net is about realizing later into a relationship that no one is there to catch you at the bottom— that there was no safety net to begin with and you have no other choice but to continue falling.

Dan: We’ve all been there.

Y/N: We’ve all been there. (*nods in agreement*)

Zach: Now onto track 6— Leave Me Lonely.

Y/N: This track is also one of my favorites and I feel like I’ve been saying that a lot (*laughs*) anyway, this song is about asking to be left alone. It’s preferring to be left lonely rather than staying in a relationship that is no good for you.

This song is actually so much fun to sing. Vocally it’s the most unique I’ve ever done.

Zach: It kinda has a James Bond vibe, I don’t know why it feels like that but it does.

Y/N: That’s such a complement— James Bond vibe! That’s great. Thank you.

Dan: Track 7— Good in Goodbye. This is one of your more upbeat songs in this album. It’s really fun, with the wording in the chorus.

Zach: Yeah, it’s such a catchy chorus, dude and very clever with the play-on words.

Y/N: I know. It’s such a fun song to sing, honestly— the chorus I am very proud of. I just love how it all turned out honestly.

Zach: Now for track 8— Wonderland which you named your Tour after. Why this song?

Y/N: Again, the entire concept of this era is fairytale. Wonderland is an nod to Alice in Wonderland which I love and I thought It would be an appropriate title for my Tour— to be able to name that event Wonderland was the perfect choice.

The song is about falling into a relationship the same way Alice fell into the rabbit hole— the unexpectedness, the craziness, and uncertainty of it all. My previous relationship is just like Wonderland— it was new and exciting but it was also risky and frightening— it was all over the place.

Zach: We are halfway into your album. Track 9— Watch.

Dan: This song made me emotional out of all of them.

Y/N: Did it really?

Dan: (*nods*)

Y/N: Well, Watch is one of those songs that talks about the physical feeling of a heartbreak. The turmoil and anguish you feel. In this song I described it as a burning sensation which some might relate to and some might not— it depends it guess.

Zach: Ok, how about track 10— My Tears Ricochet which is such an interesting title by the way.

Y/N: Oohh, this one is tricky. This song can actually be interpreted in a lot of ways— everyone can have their own interpretation of this song which is the fun aspect of song writing. For me this song is about how the pain inflicted on me affects the person as well, how the tears I shed ricochet back— somewhat like karma in a way.

Zach: This song is deep. Probably the most versatile album you’ve ever put out to be honest.

Y/N: Thank you so much for saying that. That means a lot to me.

Dan: Now on to, Track 11— Consequences.

Zach: Another tear jerking song— well, they all are.

Y/N: (*chuckles*) That’s true. Consequences is just me listing down all the consequences I had to deal with for loving someone who embarrassed and hurt me. (*shrugs*)

Dan: I love how this song, with the meaning and the message you are trying to put out and then transitioning to the next track which is Track 12— The 1. Just the different emotions you’ve put into this.

Zach: Yeah, cause The 1 is almost a bittersweet song. Which is a complete opposite of the previous songs.

Y/N: This album is basically me going through the five stages of grief. Some people listening to the album might say “Oh she’s talking shit about her ex but then the next song is about her crying about him.” Or “She wrote a song about hating her ex but has a song about missing him.”— That’s the point.

You don’t just move on from someone. You don’t. Especially after a long relationship, it is gonna be hard to let go and I understand that— I’ve made peace with that. I understand that I have to go through all the stages to get to the point where I am finally at peace.

It’s not easy. I’m still at that process— yes, I may sing about missing and crying about a past lover but also singing another song about hating his guts— that’s the process. I’m grieving, I’m moving on— and The 1 is one one of those songs where I just reminisce. It’s about the possibilities that could have happened if everything didn’t come crashing down like it did.

Zach: I keep forgetting how young you are at how mature you speak. You carry yourself with so much grace and dignity— it’s honestly so admirable.

Y/N: Thank you, Zach but seriously stop it before I cry.

Zach: (*laughs*) Ok, finally the last song in the album. Track 13— Red.

Y/N: Red is the final track— I use colors to express and relate different feelings I’ve felt through my last relationship and yeah— That’s Teardrops! I’m extremely proud of it and happy with the feedback.

Zach: You should be, this is a masterpiece! One of the many achievements you’ve accomplished just in the last few months— one of them also being your tour which are sold out in all the cities.

Dan: We’ve got tickets for tomorrow by the way.

Y/N: Yay! That’s amazing! But yeah I’m extremely grateful for the love I have been receiving lately. My fans are extremely supportive and being able to perform for them every night is the best feeling in the world.

Zach: The opening night was at Cincinnati, right?

Y/N: It was yeah! Such a great opener as well, the response and the energy in the stadium was out of this world— I’d never forget it.

Dan: Along with your performance, the presence of Bengals’ Quarterback Joe Burrow also caused chaos. How did that happen?

Zach: Yeah, everyone wants to know, how long has this been going on?

Y/N: (*laughs while shaking your head*) I’ve met him just the day before the show actually, so not that long ago. The NFL invited me to sing the National Anthem the day before at a game and when the Bengals’ won— they invited my team an I to the after party. I was pretty hesitant on going but my best friend dragged me to it (*laughs*)

Obviously I knew who he was and surprisingly he knew who I was and when he approached me, he told me he was a fan— he congratulated me on performing which shocked me considering it was their win we were celebrating that night, but yeah. We talked and he mentioned that he tried to get tickets to my show but didn’t succeed in doing so.

So I offered him a ticket, I don’t know what urged me to do so but he hesitantly accepted and that’s how he ended up there— we became friends.

Zach: So you mean to tell me, that you had extra tickets laying around?! (*jokes*)

Y/N: I always have one extra ticket, just in case. (*shrugs*)

Dan: You attended their game a few weeks ago as well, didn’t you?

Y/N: Yeah, I think that was Joe’s way of repaying me back for the tickets— our schedule coincided and he asked me if I wanted to go and I didn’t have anything else better to do at New Jersey so I accepted.

Zach: Fans speculate that you two are dating because of your somewhat public interaction that day.

Y/N: No. Joe and I are good friends. We are both focused on our own careers and I don’t think I’m ready to be in another relationship of any kind at the moment. (*smiles sadly*)

Zach: And that’s understandable, I hope this puts the rumors to rest. Thank you for stopping by, Y/N.

Y/N: It won’t but thank you anyway— also thank you for inviting me.

Dan: We love having you here.

Zach: Good luck on the show tomorrow. We will see you!

Y/N: I’ll see you tomorrow, guys!

comments…

𝐟𝐚𝐧1: this interview is Godsent, everything was just perfect.

𝐟𝐚𝐧2: thank you to Zach and Dan for the amazing content as always.

𝐟𝐚𝐧3: An hour long interview of Y/N talking about her album? Yes please

↳ 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫1: An hour long interview of Y/N talking about her trash of an album as she continues to shit on Jack? Bitch please.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧4: Translation: I watched the entire 1 hour interview where Y/N talks about the songs she wrote about her cheating ex which she never ones name drops… but if the shoe fits ig 🤷‍♀️

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧5: OH SHIT HAHQHAHHAHQHQHAHA

𝐟𝐚𝐧6: Zach is right. Y/N handles herself with so much grace and dignity it is truly inspiring. She continued with her life and let her work speak for her. She’s stronger than me fr cause if my boyfriend of 3 years cheats on me and gets caught for the entire world to see I would be in jail rn.

𝐟𝐚𝐧7: it’s the fact that she had an completely different album called ANGEL and decided to scrap it all when Jack’s cheating scandal happened hurts my heart.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧8: I’m crying in the club rn. Angel is probably the complete opposite of Teardrops. It probably was about how in love she was with Jack.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧9: MY HEART HURTS FOR HER CAUSE ANGEL TO TEARDROPS WITH THE INTRO BEING RAINDROPS (AN ANGEL CRIED)!! She’s a genius but it’s so sad.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧10: just imagine how hurt she must have been to realize that she would never get to release those songs.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧11: When they asked her if she’ll ever release Angel she said maybe but the pain in her eyes when she was thinking about it says otherwise.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧12: I’m sorry I’m a new fan and I’m not sure why people keep emphasizing on the name Angel? Like, what does it represent? And why is it so important?

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧13: It’s alright 😊 Angel is what Y/N’s ex boyfriend Jack called her. He cheated on her after 3 years of being together hence her having an album called Angel is so shocking cause we are assuming it’s about her love for Jack which we will never get to hear by the looks of it.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧14: And since Jack plays for the New Jersey Devils, Y/N would call him the Devil and Y/N the Angel.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧12: Thank you so much for explaining. That is so sad.

𝐟𝐚𝐧15: Raindrops (an angel cried) hits harder now knowing what the album was called before 😭

𝐟𝐚𝐧16: I admire her so much. She said she made peace with the fact that she needed to go through the five stages of grief. She accepted that she was gonna feel all those emotions just so that she could move on.

𝐟𝐚𝐧17: “fairytales aren’t real, aren’t they?” OOOHH GIRL HER SMIRK AFTER SHE SAID THAT😏

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧18: “for little children fairytales are real until they aren’t anymore.” Put that on a shirt.

𝐟𝐚𝐧19: her explanation of Safety Net pained me, I related to that song the most.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧20: realizing that there wasn’t a Safety Net to catch you the entire time 🥲

𝐟𝐚𝐧21: she’s beauty and brains, she’s so intellectual.

𝐟𝐚𝐧22: she deserves all the love in the world 🥹🤍

𝐟𝐚𝐧23: look how happy she looked talking about Joe 😭

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧24: the immediate switch up was so cute. She literally lit up.

𝐟𝐚𝐧25: I know she just denied them dating but I really do feel that there is something there.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧26: IK!! CALL ME CRAZY BUT SHE EITHER WANTS TO KEEP IT A SECRET OR THEY HAVE FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER!

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧27: I understand the excitement but please let’s respect both their privacy. Joe and Y/N are both private people so IF they are dating and want to keep it quiet then let’s please respect that. However, I don’t think they are dating tho, not yet anyway. Y/N is still in the process of moving on, she said she’s not ready for a relationship. Let’s respect that please. 🤍

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧28: Couldn’t have said it any better 😊🤍

𝐟𝐚𝐧29: get you a friend who would give you tickets to their shows/games 😫

𝐟𝐚𝐧30: Joe congratulated Y/N for singing the National Anthem at his own after party 😩 can he get anymore perfect.

𝐟𝐚𝐧31: Y/N hates New Jersey. You can’t convince me otherwise. Joe gave her tickets to his game and she took it as a way to get out.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧32: he’s hot for that.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧33: I don’t blame her but I don’t think she’ll hate it forever. She just need time.

𝐟𝐚𝐧34: friends don’t look at friends the way they were looking at each other.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧35: they probably do like each other but give it time. I actually want them to last and she needs to heal first before doing so.

𝐟𝐚𝐧36: I’m so ready for her show even more now 💕

Cincinnati, Ohio

Joe: Hello, hello.

Reporter: Did you have a good time at practice today, Joe?

Joe: Uhm, it’s practice. It’s the same every season— it was good. Exhausting but good.

Reporter: You don’t train during off season?

Joe: Nah, I’m a lazy guy, sit at home all day. (*smiles*)

Reporter: What’s your favorite thing to do every year, Joe?

Joe: Just relax. Sit on my couch watch YouTube videos, play video games that’s my favorite thing to do.

Reporter: Did you watch the Quarterback thing, Joe?

Joe: I did not.

Reporter: Do you plan to?

Joe: Uhm, maybe one day. Probably not though.

Reporter: What why?

Joe: Would you watch a documentary about Hobson? (*grinning as he nodded his head at the reporter*)

Reporters: (*laughs*)

Reporter: Joe, one of your strengths is your ability to compartmentalize, is your focus right there?

Joe: Yeah. I’m able to hyper focus on a lot of different things at different times and when it’s time for one, I can completely focus on that and forget about everything else.

Reporter: Were you asked to be in season two of The Quarterback?

Joe: Yeah I was. Maybe one year— this year I’m not, uhm but we’ll see. I would like to do it maybe a couple of years down the road but I don’t think now is the right time.

Reporter: Joe, are there any personal goals you’ve set for yourself?

Joe: You always have personal goals, I’ve been thinking about goals a lot lately and I think where my mindset is these days is just improving everyday. The point I’m at now— I’m one of the best in the world and if I just continue to improve everyday I’m gonna help myself a lot more.

Reporter: What music do you listen to, Joe?

Joe: I’m, uh, kind of all over the place. I’ll listen to some indie, I listen to some hip hop, some pop. I listen to just about anything but country— I’m not a country guy. (*smiles*)

Reporter: A lot of Y/N Y/L/N then?

Joe: (*laughs while nodding his head*) Yeah, I’m a fan of hers.

Reporter: You were seen at her concert here at PayCor and she was at the game against the Jets recently— you two seem close.

Joe: She’s a good friend. I met her after the game against the Raiders— we had a good conversation. I joked about having a hard time buying tickets for her show and she offered to give me an extra ticket. Yeah, we became friends after that. I invited her to the game against the Jets cause our schedules aligned and yeah. She’s great.

Reporter: Gave her flowers recently, Joe? (*grins*)

Joe: (*shrugging his shoulders laughing*) Flowers? I don’t know? You tell me? Did I?

Reporter: I think you did.

Joe: She’s an amazing human being. So maybe I did. (*shrugs again*)

Reporter: Last question, Joe. How are you feeling that there is a possibility that you’ll be the highest paid NFL player is history?

Joe: That is not guaranteed yet as of the moment, so I don’t really feel anything about it— sure I’m flattered to be considered a valuable player but as of now it’s only a possibility. Ones it actually happens I’ll get back to you. (*chuckles*)

Reporters: Thank you so much, Joe.

Joe: Thank you.

comments…

𝐟𝐚𝐧1: WHO DEYYYYY🧡

𝐟𝐚𝐧2: Joe Burrow the man that you are 😩

𝐟𝐚𝐧3: he’s a homebody and so am I. We are perfect for each other joe.

𝐟𝐚𝐧4: OUR QB1

𝐟𝐚𝐧5: Joe gets it. Cause I could never get into country music.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧6: you’re missing out fr.

𝐟𝐚𝐧6: WE NEED HIM IN THE NEXT SEASON OF QUARTERBACK

𝐟𝐚𝐧7: his mentality. that’s it. that’s the comment.

𝐟𝐚𝐧8: his sense of humor makes him even more attractive 🤭

𝐟𝐚𝐧9: Miss Y/N really has this man blushing

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧10: nah fr cause he was all smiley when they asked about her.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧11: they both just confirmed that they are just friends but I call bullshit.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧12: friends for now.

𝐟𝐚𝐧13: he’s messing with us. cause you know damn well he sent those flowers.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧14: “She’s an amazing human being. So maybe I did.” I need that tattooed on my forehead.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧15: he definitely did.

𝐟𝐚𝐧16: MARK MY WORDS HE IS WINNING US THE SUPERBOWL THIS YEAR.

↳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧17: 💍💍💍

𝐟𝐚𝐧18: can I get flowers, Joseph? 🥲

𝐟𝐚𝐧19: he’s going to be the highest paid NFL player.

𝐟𝐚𝐧20: Joe and Y/N just be giving each other free tickets.

dividers: @cafekitsune

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡

-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

[nhlclover]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 | 𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐋𝐓

word count: 1.17k

summary: after six months broken up, gabe realizes he can't move on from you decides he has to win you back.

warnings: like one instance of cursing, not proof read

notes: based on 'how you get the girl’ by taylor swift. literally in love with my sherbrooke boy so i had to write for him

The rain slapped against the window, a loud patter sound echoing through the home you shared with 3 of your friends. It was the beginning of spring in Boston and the end of the school year was right around the corner.

It was slightly weird for you to be at home on a Friday night. At the beginning of last semester, you would’ve found yourself at Conte Forum, cheering on Gabe from the stands. However, that hasn’t been your reality for nearly 6 months. 

At the beginning of last semester, you and Gabe had split up. Gabe, having had an all-time year with being drafted, starting at Boston College, as well as the upcoming World Juniors had left an unbearable weight on his shoulders that he couldn’t quite seem to shake. Feeling overwhelmed and lost, it began to take a toll on their relationship. Ultimately, the decision to break up had been painful but mutual. Gabe, unsure of what he wanted in the midst of all the chaos, needed space to navigate everything. Although heartbroken, you recognized that, allowing Gabe to have said space. So you went your separate ways, trying to move on from each other.

However, there was now a void in your heart, brought on by the absence of Gabe. The ache of missing him never faded, and the realization that you two truly belonged together deepened. What you didn’t know was that Gabe, too, had been feeling the ache. He missed the girl that was his first love. 

In the meantime, the regular season had come and gone, the mens hockey team now on the verge of heading to the Frozen Four. Gabe, despite the recent success in hockey, was finding that nothing was making him completely happy. The memories of you still hung in the back of his mind and the guilt from having hurt you was still weighing on him.

Hollers and shouts filled his ears as he came off the ice and into the locker room. Gabe and the rest of the team were fresh off of a win that was set to send them to the Frozen Four. Like the rest of his teammates, Gabe should’ve been celebrating, relishing in the victory. However, Gabe couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

 It was you. You were what was missing. Gabe felt he couldn’t relish in his success unless he had someone to share it with. Unless he could share it with you.

Gabe peeled his equipment off, tossing it in his stall. Will approached his friend, watching as he frantically changed. 

“Hey Gabo, whatcha doing?” He asked

“I’m going to y/n’s.” He said, tossing the jersey into the bin at the center of the room.

“You’re what?” Will asked.

“I’m going to see y/n.” Gabe said. “I need to get her back man, I’m miserable without her.”

Will could attest to that, having dealt with a heartbroken Gabe for 6 months now. He was no longer his usual self. However, Will didn’t know if you still had room in your heart for Gabe. 

“Is she gonna take you back?” Will asked.

“I don’t know man.” Gabe shrugged, pulling on his gameday suit. “But I gotta give it a shot.”

Gabe shoved his belongings in his bag, shoving the bag in Will’s hands. “Take this back to our dorm for me?” Gabe asked will.

Will furrowed his brows. “You’re going right now? It’s fucking pouring out man.” Will told him. It had been pouring all day and hadn’t let up. Gabe nodded, pulling on his BC hockey jacket.

“Dude let me give you a ride at least!” Will tried to shout to Gabe, but he was already out the door, heading to your place.

A knock at your front door pulled you from your show. It had you confused as to who could possibly be at your door in the middle of a thunderstorm. Curious none the less, you got up and walked to the door, your slippers shuffling against the hardwood. 

You opened the door to a drenched Gabe wearing a Boston College hockey jacket. His usual curls were flattened to his head, the rain taking away the volume. His eyes shone of determination, cutting through his rain-soaked image. 

“Gabe?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What are you doing here? Did you walk here? Are you insane?”

Your questions flowed out without giving Gabe a chance to answer them. Gabe, however, didn’t respond to them when you stopped. “It’s been a long 6 months without you.” He says. “I miss you so much, and I was so stupid earlier. I was just too afraid to tell you what I wanted.”

You go to speak but Gabe continues. “I want you for worse or for better,” Gabe began, his voice carrying the weight of sincerity. “I know I broke your heart, but I promise you I will put it back together. I know I messed up but please give me the chance to fix it. If you’re not ready, I get that. I’ll wait for you. I would wait forever and ever.”

You couldn’t find the words but your brain was going a million miles a minute. 6 months you and Gabe had been separated. 6 months it had taken him to come to this realization. But the look in his eyes. The vulnerability in his eyes and in his words moved you. Finally having Gabe in front of you, physically seeing his face and not through a screen as you would go through your photos of him, you’re reminded of the love you’d once known. Your shared joy and smiles rushing back to your memory.

You think to the framed photo of you and Gabe that still sits on your desk, the only testament to a love that once was. The ornate frame that was a gift from Gabe contained a photo of the two of you from the summer. In it, you’re stood in front of Gabe, his arms snaked around your torso and his lips pressed to your cheek. The pair of you significantly more tan than you are now, Gabes faint freckles appearing from sun exposure. Your favourite moment was frozen in time in that photo.

Gabe's words, coupled with the visual reminder of your love melted away any skepticism that you were harbouring. You still had yet to find the proper words, but you opened the door and stepped aside allowing Gabe to step inside. He was dripping all over your floors but you didn’t quite mind. He shrugged off the drenched jacket, it landing on the floor with a slap. Your arms snaked around his neck, his wrapping around your body. His wet hair dripped onto your face, his body shivering slightly. Having him back in your arms felt right. As you embraced one another, it felt as if the flame was rekindled, although it had never truly extinguished.

You pull back slightly, placing a delicate hand to Gabe’s cheek. “I missed you.” Gabe says softly.

“I missed us.” You reply.

[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. 

[cheeseceli]

When you're rejected by your crush

Pairing: BTS ot7 × Gn!Reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, headcanons, just a bit of angst because you were rejected

Request: Hello! Can you please write headcanons for BTS (they have a crush on the reader) reacting to the reader being sad after finding out that her crush (a coworker or a friend) is in a relationship with someone else?

Warnings: none?

A/n: this was inspired by the "secret crush" series by @7ndipity a bit. If you do not allow this, please let me know and I'll delete this post right away!

Jin

Your friend

That's all Jin wants to be for you right now

Of course, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel at least an ounce of hope when you said that your friend, your crush, was now dating someone else

But at the same time, he'd hate to show interest in you when you're so vulnerable

So he settles in being only what you need right now: a shoulder to cry on

I believe he'd be the one to wait the longest to tell you how he feels, scared you're not on the same page just yet

Suga

His mind is a mess right now

Nothing breaks him more than seeing your eyes without its usual shine

But he had been praying for the day where you fall out of love with your co-worker

So he really doesn't know how to react right now

He chooses to listen to you talk about how you found out everything and about how you're feeling

Will try to forget his feelings and focus on being the best friend you could ask for now

But as soon as you feel better and your feelings for your past crush start to fade, he might try to make subtle moves on you, scared someone else could catch your attention again

J-hope

I see this going on a slightly different way

He found out about your crush's relationship before you

He just knew you'd be heartbroken

So he tries to let you down gently, saying that maybe the guy wasn't this big of a deal

But when the time comes and you're inevitably sad after finding out, he tries to comfort you as much as possible

Is very hesitant on being flirty right now though

Besides being sad, he'd hate for you to be confused because of him

Namjoon

Honestly, for a second he even forgot he liked you

His mind went blank the moment you texted him about how you were in need of comfort right now

Will fulfill his role as your friend and, before you even notice, you were already laughing through your tears at something he said

Just later that day that he realises what this can mean for your relationship

He finally had a chance now!

Waits for a while though, planning exactly what he wants to do

Jimin

He feels so bloody guilty and selfish right now

Because he's your friend! And you're sad right now!

He should be only focusing on how to make you happy again

But knowing that this means you'll have to eventually move on from your current crush just gives him so much hope

Obviously, he will try to hype you up

But as soon as he can, he will try to make you see him in a different light

Taehyung

Relief floods over him the moment you tell him the news

He was so scared of what could've happened if your crush were to reciprocate your feelings

He had to hold back his smile

Hangs out with you immediately to try to make you forget things for a while

Is already making a plan on how to confess

But for now he's focused on making you feel better

Even thanks your crush with literally no context at all

Jungkook

Deadass smiled when you told him about the situation 💀

Don't get him wrong, he's not happy because you're hurt!

He's happy because he might have a chance now

But he at least was able to hide (part of) his happiness in front of you lmao

And now he's 100% dedicated to make you smile again

He wasn't even that cool, you could find someone better than him anyways

Either way, he makes it his personal mission to distract you from that other guy and make you realise that maybe you're better off without him

And if he ends up being extra boyfriend material throughout it, it was purely a coincidence

Masterlist | you'll probably like: secret crush (by the author I mentioned in the a/n)

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[ghcstpyre]

PINKIE SWEAR.

*•.¸♡ ted "theodore" logan x f!reader

PART ONE. ted is still a virgin. you offer to change that.

contents: virgin!ted, afab!reader, a bit of fluff, angst if you squint, post-excellent adventure, pre-bogus journey, drug use (weed), fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), slight praise kink, unprotected p in v sex. MINORS BEGONE!

word count: 7.5k

a/n: after sitting in my drafts for 2 months, it's finally here! i'm so excited to get this one out of my brain and into writing and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i've enjoyed/am going to enjoy writing it! :)

taglist: @scarlettspectra

The thick smell of weed hung heavy in the air of Bill and Ted's apartment, its source pinched between your index and middle finger. You'd perched yourself atop the kitchen countertop in one of the few un-cluttered spaces, lazily toking from the joint in your hand.

It was evening in the middle of July and the colours of the sunset shone through the little window opposite you, bathing the messy kitchen in a gold and orange glow. You and Ted had forgotten to crack open a window before you lit up, but by the time either of you had realised you were both too baked to care and the damage had already been done.

Ted was sat on the sofa, his old acoustic guitar in his hands, fingers plucking away an unknown tune. Or maybe it was a tune you should know, but the fingers on the strings were too inexperienced for you to be able to tell what it was. His guitar playing skills had improved somewhat since the History Report fiasco, but not by a huge margin.

You thought that having a literal princess as a girlfriend to impress would help spur him on, and for a time it had done, but you'd noticed Ted becoming more withdrawn since his relationship with Elizabeth had ended. He 'd been pretty torn up over it at the time, but it had been over a month now since they ended things on friendly terms and you'd picked up on his change in demeanor.

It felt cruel, but you couldn't say you were too heartbroken for Ted when he broke the bad news to you. The thick, green worm of jealousy had wriggled its way under your skin and buried itself within your chest the moment Ted introduced Elizabeth to you as his girlfriend. It had been festering there ever since, making its nest within your heart.

Of course, it was your own fault for realising your feelings for Ted a little too late. Everyone always said 'better late than never', but you didn't think you could apply it to the crappy situation you found yourself in.

But now Ted was single again. It seemed the universe had decided to give you another chance.

Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, dragging your gaze away from the view of the sunset to look at the object of your affection. He'd gone from plucking the strings to strumming them listlessly, clearly a million miles away.

Your whole body thrummed with the buzz of your high, a faint ringing in your ears. You knew you were high as hell - it felt like your skull had been stuffed full of cotton wool and your eyes were heavy, sclera tinted red and lids droopy.

As heavy as your eyes felt, you managed to drag your gaze across Ted's form. His mop-like, dark brown hair had fallen into his face like it usually did, but the blazing glow of the sunset shining through the living-room window cast an orange halo around his head, making him look almost angelic. The usual chocolate hues of his eyes were glittering hazel as he sat with the guitar in his hands, basking in the warmth of the setting sun.

Your eyes followed the movements his large hands made on the strings and fretboard of the beat-up guitar. There were a few stickers littered around the front of its body, faded and torn with age, and scratch marks where someone had obviously tried to peel stickers off with little to no success.

For a brief moment, like you'd done so many times in the past, you imagined what it'd be like to have Ted's hands on your body, his fingertips rough and hardened from the strings of his guitars. That familiar and inevitable heat sparked in your core and you squeezed your thighs together against the slight pulsing between your legs.

"Hey," Your voice was mellow and slow as you tried to get Ted's attention. "You gonna help me smoke this or what?" You asked, holding the joint out in his direction.

Ted was promptly pulled away from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, hands ceasing their movements on the acoustic guitar as he looked over at you, and then at the smoke pinched between your fingers. A lopsided grin tugged at his lips. "Oh, yeah."

He set the guitar down next to him and pushed himself up from the dingy green sofa, the old springs within it groaning in protest at the sudden shift in weight. The soles of his white sneakers squeaked on the tiles of the kitchen as he eagerly stumbled his way from the living room, still feeling the effects of your last spliff.

His long fingers took the joint from your own and he settled opposite you, leaning up against the counter next to the sink, just in front of the fish bowl. He lifted it to his pink lips and took a nice, long drag, the cherry on the end burning as orange as the sunset. After a few beats of holding it in, Ted released the smoke in one long exhale, filling the space between you with a thick, pungent cloud.

The red basketball shorts Ted wore hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers poking out above them and concealing just below the bottom of his dark snail trail. You had to do your best to drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering view and instead focused your gaze on his chest. It wasn't any less tantalizing - his old San Dimas High School tank top was a little too small for him now and clung to his torso in all the right places, giving you a wonderful view of the slight muscle definition on his body and arms that he usually hid behind baggy t-shirts and jackets.

It wasn't until he'd said your name for a third time that you realised Ted was trying to get your attention. "You okay there dude?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes, sclera just as bloodshot as yours and lids just as heavy.

You swallowed hard as you composed yourself, offering him a reassuring smile and hoping he hadn't caught you checking him out. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really stoned."

Ted gave you an amused smirk in return, flashing you with a bright, toothy grin as he brought the joint to his lips once again. "Excellent."

You muffled a snort against your hand. The way Ted and Bill spoke was something you'd always found equal parts amusing and endearing. It was goofy, but somehow you felt it added to Ted's strange charm.

A soft padding could be heard below you as you lightly swung your legs back and forth, your heels knocking against the cupboard door as you watched Ted pull from the spliff. His features took on a somber edge and his eyes glazed over slightly, clearly miles away once again.

"Hey, Ted? Are you okay?" Your voice was soft, cautious almost, as you got his attention. "You've been kind of distant lately. I know breaking up with Elizabeth must've been tough but...do you wanna talk about it?"

He regarded you silently, pursing his lips a little with a slight furrow in his brow. Ted's gaze fell to his feet and he tapped the tips of his sneakers together. Eventually, he nodded. "...Yeah, " His voice was hoarse, almost like the word was a struggle for him to get out. "I think talking might do me some good."

It hurt seeing Ted so visibly deflated like this, but you were glad he was willing to finally open up about things - even if it did mean you had to listen to him pine over his ex. Still, more than anything you just wanted to be there for your friend, as a friend.

Ted offered you a grateful smile, the corners of his full lips quirking upwards beautifully. He reached out to pass you the joint and tingles ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his before taking the joint from him. He swallowed thickly, trying to figure out where and how to begin while he watched you fumble with the lighter, sparking the smoke up again and breathing new life into the cherry on the end.

"It's just...bogus, y'know?" He started, running a hand through his glossy hair. "Elizabeth was my first proper girlfriend - she, Bill, Joanna and I basically did everything together. Being with them was always a most excellent time."

You nodded along as he spoke, toking from the joint and turning your head away slightly to blow the smoke out, away from Ted's face. The green worm coiled around your heart squeezed.

"But now it's just the three of us and I'm a total third wheel all the time. Or - or it's the three of them, without me. Elizabeth said we're still friends but that she needs some time - which is perfectly okay, I mean, I'm not about to force things like a dickweed or something, but..." A long, frustrated sigh left his lips.

Ted already felt like a complete jackass for feeling this way about his friends, and even more so for complaining about them in the open like this. Friends weren't supposed to talk smack about each other behind their backs. He looked at you from beneath his long, dark lashes, almost like he was seeking your approval. He'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself - undoubtedly put there by his asshole of a father - but this was uncharted territory for him and he felt like a fish out of water.

Sensing his need for guidance, you tilted your head and offered him a sympathetic smile. "You miss your friends." You finished for him.

He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders he didn't even realise was there beginning to ease. "Yeah, exactly." He looked up at you properly, meeting your gaze. "It's why I'm most grateful for you offering to hang out so often since Elizabeth and I split. It's been a totally lonely time, but seeing you has made it a bit easier."

Your chest tightened and your heart stuttered. Of course you'd wanted to be there for Ted as he dealt with his first breakup, but you couldn't deny that there were selfish motivations lurking beneath your good intentions. Guilt mingled with the fluttering of your heart.

"I'm always gonna be there for you during your hours of need, dude." You smiled.

Ted watched as you puffed from the joint again and blew out the thick cloud through your plush lips. The smoke rising from the glowing cherry swirled as it hung in the air, twisting around you lazily like a living thing, high off its own fumes and glowing in the light of the sunset. His chocolate brown gaze dropped to the KISS logo plastered over the chest of the t-shirt you wore - his t-shirt that you'd stolen some time ago now.

Elizabeth always told him it was strange that he let you wear his clothes sometimes, but he never thought anything of it. It was only now, however, that he noticed just how much he liked it when you did.

Is that weird? Ted thought to himself. Since when did she get so...bodacious?

He'd always thought you were pretty, but there was something different about you that he'd started to notice. Ted found his gaze lingering on you longer than it should, sometimes on places he definitely shouldn't be looking at. Especially now with the light of the sunset setting the colour of your hair ablaze, his t-shit hanging comfortably on your body, and your summer short-shorts clinging to your upper thighs.

His eyes dropped a little lower as the comfortable silence you found yourself in stretched on a bit longer. He noticed the way the flesh of your thighs spread out on the countertop, the bare skin below your shorts sticking to the marble in the summer heat. Ted swallowed thickly before looking you in the eye once again.

You noticed the way his eyes trailed over your body but decided not to comment, despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. "Plus, I guess this makes band practice difficult. That's gotta be frustrating."

"Yes! God, yeah, it is most vexing." Ted looked at you like you'd just put everything he'd been feeling over the last few months into words. If he'd known how liberating it would be to vent his frustrations, he would've come to you to talk sooner. You always had a knack for finding the words to describe how he felt. "How is Wyld Stallyns gonna be the most triumphant rock band in history if we can't even practice?"

A giggle slipped past your lips, glad that he seemed to have perked up a little. Wyld Stallyns were terrible, but you'd supported them unconditionally no matter how bad they sounded. "Just give it more time, Ted. I promise you she'll come round and you guys will be able to practice and hang out again just like you used to. You're doing really well, just have a little more patience."

The idea of Elizabeth and Ted spending time together again didn't exactly fill you with glee, but you doubted they'd get back together - at least, not immediately. You hoped.

His eyes dropped to your thighs again as you passed the joint back to him, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips. "There's...kinda something else that's been bugging me, but I don't know if I should..." Ted trailed off, a light pink hue rising to his cheeks.

"Go on," You urged, nodding at him to continue. If there was more weighing on him, you wanted to coax it out of him.

He avoided your gaze, eyes sliding off to the right. "Okay...y'know how Bill and I explained that the princesses are...chaste?" You nodded and hummed in understanding. "Well, it took me eighteen years to finally get a girlfriend. Now I'm twenty-three, single and there are things that most guys have done by now that I still haven't experienced." The embarrassment was evident on his face; he couldn't meet your gaze at all.

You simply blinked at him, processing his words. Then, the penny dropped. "You're a virgin?" Your mouth was blurting the words before you could stop them.

Ted's cheeks flushed crimson and he let out a frustrated groan. Although he completely respected Elizabeth's boundaries and was more than happy to have waited until marriage to finally experience the intimacy he craved, he couldn't deny that it had been a ball-ache - metaphorically and in some cases, physically. Bill had cracked a joke about their right hands being their second girlfriends; at the time Ted had found it funny, but now it just depressed and frustrated the hell out of him.

"No-!" He raised his voice slightly in defense, almost offended by the 'V' word. He shook his head. "-I mean yes? I mean-" The hand that wasn't holding the spliff reached up to drag his palm over his face as he visibly deflated. "It just sucks, dude. I feel super lame." He let out another long sigh, defeated.

Ted brought the joint to his lips, taking one final, long drag before stubbing it out in one of the nearby dirty mugs in the sink. He looked back down at his shoes again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

"Teddy, hey," The nickname caught his attention, but he didn't have the courage to meet your gaze just yet. You unstuck your thighs from the kitchen counter and hopped down, stepping forward to close the distance between the two of you. When he still refused to acknowledge you, you brought your hands up to rest on the sides of his exposed biceps and squeezed gently. "Teddy, look at me."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting his head to look at you and your sweet smile.

"You're not lame. Like, at all." You reassured him, your thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles on his skin. "In fact, I think it's totally chivalrous of you to have waited for Elizabeth."

Ted tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. "...You think so?"

Cute. You thought.

"Of course!" You smiled brightly at him, having to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. "Not many guys would do that. Most would just get bored and dump their girlfriend after a few weeks so they could go and get some."

His face soured at the notion. "Heinous."

You giggled and his expression immediately brightened as the sweet sound filled the kitchen, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped his head down and chuckled. That was one thing he always liked about you - your laugh. Especially when he was the reason for it.

You retracted your hands from his arms and he mourned the loss of contact, his skin tingling where your thumbs had been circling.

"Besides, there's nothing bad about it. Everyone experiences things at different paces. Like, you smoked weed before I did." Your words had a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Do what you wanna do at your own pace and don't care about what anyone else thinks. Just because you haven't had sex yet doesn't make you any less of a catch."

He lifted his head to look at you again. "Thanks, babe. I really do appreciate it."

The bright expression on his face was the sign you needed to know you'd made him feel better, at least for the time being. The two of you stood there for a few moments, dissolving into stoned giggling. Ted's cheeks were flushed and his eyes shimmered with mirth, the sight being enough to make you swoon internally.

With the orange glow behind him, Ted looked like a dream. A dream you wanted to be a part of.

Hold on a moment. Did Ted call you babe?

An idea popped into your baked mind, head still hazy from the joint you'd just smoked. You weren't really sure if it was a good idea, but you figured if it all blew up in your face you could just blame it on the weed. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the friendship you had with Ted, especially since his others were currently rocky, but you were high and you wanted him.

"Hey..." You started, your heartbeat picking up the pace. "...If you're still worried about that kind of stuff, I could help out."

Ted's giggles died down and he cocked his head at you in confusion once again. "Huh? What d'you mean?"

Of course he had to pick now to be dense. "Well, y'know..." You tilted you head forward and looked up at him from beneath your lashes, hoping he'd get the message.

His brows raised in recognition and he formed an 'o' with his lips before breaking out into a grin. "Ooohh, you wanna be my wingman?"

You scrunched your face up. "What? No."

"Then whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Babe, I have no idea what you're saying."

"Do you wanna have sex with me?"

The smoke still swirling between you seemed to freeze in place, your words hanging heavy between the two of you. You could feel how hot your cheeks were and you could hear your pulse thumping in your ears, but you were determined to hold his startled gaze.

Ted simply blinked at you, completely dumbstruck, the gears in his head whirring as he tried to process what you'd just said. He was struggling to comprehend if he had actually heard you correctly or not.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the soft flesh nervously and your eyes were trained on his every movement like a hawk. His silence didn't comfort you and although it only lasted for a few moments, to you it felt like an age before he finally responded.

"I...uh...huh?"

Anxiety simmered in your stomach, threatening to bubble over into frustration. You were already embarrassed enough as is and Ted's utter confusion didn't help your hammering heart.

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your nerves. "Do you wanna hook up?" A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "With me?"

Ted's heart thumped rapidly beneath his tank top and your eyes followed his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. His hands trembled slightly within his pockets - equal parts nerves and desire. Ted was usually one to articulate himself using large, goofy hand gestures, but right now he was glad his hands were tucked away so you couldn't see how much his hands shook.

"Are you - are you serious?" He asked, his deep voice cracking adorably.

A few strands of hair fell into your face as you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. "Y-Yeah. I mean, we're both high, we're friends-" You swallowed thickly and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Ted's eyes followed the movement and you took a small step forward, "-You're cute...plus, it'll mean you'll have one less thing to worry about, right?"

His eyes flicked up to your eyes, down to your lips, then back to meet your gaze again. It didn't go unnoticed.

One of Ted's hands retracted from his pocket to reach out and gently brush away those fallen strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. You were sure then, if it could've done, your heart would've leapt right out of your chest and into his hand. Your breath hitched and your smile turned from shy to hopeful.

"I...yeah, I guess that makes sense." Heat rose to Ted's cheeks and his smile matched your own before faltering slightly. "But, won't it make things, like, totally weird between us?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I promise we'll still be friends afterwards." Lifting a hand, you wiggled your pinkie finger in front of him. "Pinkie Swear."

With a small, amused huff, Ted linked his little finger with yours and held it for a few beats before pulling you towards him using your pinkie. The hand that had remained inside his pocket moved to rest on the curve of your hip, his thumb rubbing your soft skin over the material of your top. Your own free hand came to tentatively rest on his chest.

Now that your hips were almost flush against his, and thanks to his loose-fitting shorts, you could feel his length pressed against your thigh. He was already a bit hard.

"Is that a yes?" Your voice was breathless as you asked, not expecting the sudden surge in confidence after his initial confusion and bashfulness.

Ted's voice was low and husky when he responded, his tone immediately causing heat to pool between your legs. He leaned in, plush pink lips only an inch away from yours.

"Hell yes."

Finally, Ted's lips captured yours in a kiss that, for you at least, felt like a long time coming. The nervous simmering in your tummy exploded in the form of happy fireworks as his lips moved slow and tender over your own, giddiness and lust threatening to take you over.

This was Ted's first time so you were determined to keep your own desires in check - to go at his pace.

His pinkie finger released yours in favour of snaking his hand around your neck to cradle the back of your head as he towered over you, lips still connected to yours. Your own hand lingered in place for a second before joining the other on his broad chest, savoring the feeling of his excited heartbeat against your palms.

You pulled away from each other for a moment to catch your breath. Ted's pupils were blown wide with desire, his deep brown eyes looking like inky black pools. Combined with the crimson hue blooming across his cheeks, your best friend looked absolutely delicious.

Neither you nor Ted could believe this was actually happening.

"Whoa..." A big, toothy grin spread across his freshly kissed lips.

You didn't even get a chance to respond before Ted's mouth descended upon yours again, this time with a little more urgency. The hand that gripped your hip circled around your waist to hold you tightly against him while his other threaded his fingers through your hair. You practically melted into him, raising onto the balls of your feet to wrap your arms around his neck and push him back against the counter behind him.

The ache between your legs urged you on. You traced your tongue along Ted's bottom lip, desperate for more. He was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips for you and letting out a soft groan as your tongue slid against his.

You were sure that that little sound was enough to send you to heaven. Or at the very least, would be living in your head rent free for the next...well, forever.

The inside of your mouth tasted like weed, smoke and the chocolate you'd snacked on earlier when the munchies hit, and Ted briefly wondered if there was any part of you in that moment that he didn't find completely intoxicating. Every kiss, every touch, every swipe of your tongue had his cock throbbing inside his shorts, straining against the fabric and aching for attention.

Without even realising it, Ted began grinding his rigid length against your thigh, pulling a little gasp from your lips. The friction paired with your tongue in his mouth was almost enough to make his toes curl in his sneakers.

Ted could count on one hand the number of girls he'd kissed, but this was by far the best kiss he'd ever had.

Why hadn't he done this with you sooner?

Sensing his need, you slid the palms of your hands down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitched in his throat and his dick twitched with anticipation as you smiled against his plush lips, your fingers dipping just below the elastic to toy with the waistband.

"Can I touch you?" You breathed against his mouth, desperate to feel the size of him in your hands, in your mouth, and buried deep inside you.

Ted's eyes fluttered open and he nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Y-Yeah."

In one swift motion you pushed down his boxers and shorts, letting them pool around his ankles as you sunk down to your knees. His cock sprung free, long with a thick vein running up the underside and a lovely pink head, a bead of precum already forming at the tip.

He was absolutely gorgeous. If you weren't wet before, you were surely soaking through your panties by now.

You reached your hands up to run your fingers down his flat stomach, trailing them over his cute snail trail and through the dark thatch of curls sitting above where you wanted to be most. He watched you the whole time through heavily-lidded eyes, his bottom lip caught between his pearly white teeth.

The sight of you on your knees before him was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and you hadn't even touched him yet.

Ted's whole body jolted as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh. You gave his cock a few slow, long strokes, looking up and drinking in the sight of him as he gripped onto the edge of the kitchen counter and gazed down at the most excellent view of you with his dick in your hand.

The whimpers that escaped him were all the encouragement you needed. Without warning you leaned in to lick a hot, wet stripe up the underside of his shaft and press a kiss to his wet tip. Ted practically keeled over, inhaling sharply.

"You okay?" You asked, concern swimming with the lust in your eyes as you pulled back a little.

Ted nodded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a small, sheepish smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just wasn't, uh, expecting that."

You squeezed his thighs affectionately. "Want me to carry on?"

"God yes."

Having the go-ahead, you leaned in again and took the head of his throbbing cock into your mouth.

"Oh fuck."

Ted managed to release the vice grip he had on the countertop to thread his fingers through the hair on the top of your pretty head as you began bobbing your head, the other hand still gripping onto the counter for dear life. You took a little more of him into your mouth with each motion, swirling your tongue around the swollen head when you pulled back.

"Fuck babe, that feels so good."

The salty taste of his precum on your tongue sent bolts of heat straight to your core, now hyper aware of the aching need between your legs. Unable to handle it anymore, your spread your thighs apart and slid one of your hands into your shorts to rub slow circles on your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

It was taking all of Ted's willpower and restraint to not buck his hips forward into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. The sight of you touching yourself as you sucked his dick was almost too much for him to handle and he had to clap the hand that white-knuckled the counter over his mouth to muffle the loud moan that slipped out.

His moan was like music to your ears. You needed to hear more. Steeling yourself, you pulled your wet lips off his cock with a pop, inhaled deeply, and then took his entire length down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut as the coarse curls of his dark pubes tickled your nose and you moaned around his girth as your fingers worked on your sensitive bud.

"Oh shit," Ted practically yelled, throwing his head back and letting out a long, low groan of pleasure. His fingers tightened in your hair and his toes curled in his shoes as he desperately fought against the urge to cum down your throat there and then.

He pulled on your hair, gentle enough to not hurt you, but hard enough to get you to drag your mouth from his dick.

"Fuck babe - I almost came." Ted panted, completely breathless as you gazed up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your glassy eyes and your lips were red, swollen and shiny with spit.

He unthreaded his fingers from your hair to help you up to your feet and immediately pull you in for another kiss, each press of his lips harder and hungrier than the last. His hands were quick to find your hips and you gasped against his mouth as he squeezed them tight and kicked his boxers and shorts from around his ankles.

Ted began pushing you backwards until your lower back hit the edge of the counter. His irises were completely engulfed by his inky black pupils and his large hands slid up underneath your t-shirt, savouring the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms as they travelled up your waist to your ribs.

His burning desire was swallowing him whole and he was acting purely on impulse. Ted had been worried he'd fumble this with his lack of experience, but judging by the way you responded to his advances and touches, it seemed that just letting go was working in his favour.

Before you could say anything Ted's lips were on yours again, his kisses absolutely feverous and starting to make your head spin. Just as you pulled away to catch your breath, his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed gently. Your head lolled back and you pushed your chest forward into the sensation, seeking more attention. Ted was more than happy to oblige, kneading the soft flesh of your tits beneath your top with his large hands.

You twitched and let out a needy whine when one of Ted's thumbs grazed over your nipple, his mouth swallowing that sweet sound. He pulled his lips away from yours to repeat the motion again, this time circling both his thumbs over your hard, sensitive nubs. Wonder swam in his jet black eyes as he watched you arch your back into his touch and gasp, unconsciously canting your hips into his and gripping onto his broad shoulders.

Your fantasies could never have prepared you for the real thing. The pads of his fingertips were hard and rough from the hours upon hours he'd spent almost every day pouring over his beloved Gibson, and they felt heavenly on your soft skin as they trailed down from your breasts to your hips once again.

"Can I...?"

Ted's voice was hoarse as he mumbled against your lips, his fingers toying with the button of your denim shorts as he pulled back slightly to meet your heavy gaze. He knew he'd need guidance for what came next and he prayed to the gods of music (Oh great god of metal, Mr Osbourne, dude...please don't let me fuck this up!) that you would be willing to help him out without too much judgement.

If you were to laugh at him, he was sure he'd shrivel up and die on the spot.

You blinked up at him and smiled, giving him the go-ahead with a confident nod. Despite the way his hands trembled, Ted popped open the button on your shorts and shimmied them down over your hips and thighs, taking your panties with them.

Rather than letting you step out of the material, Ted lifted you up to place you back in the space on the kitchen counter you'd been sat in before. The bright, toothy grin on your face told him that that was definitely the right move. He had a feeling that all those evenings spent watching raunchy rom-coms with Bill, Joanna and Elizabeth were going to come in handy.

Ted paused, his shoulders tensing. Wait, no. He shouldn't be thinking about Elizabeth right now.

He was promptly pulled from his thoughts by your legs hooking around his hips and pulling him into the space between your parted thighs, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders once again.

"You okay?" You asked, sensing his hesitation.

It was incredibly difficult to ignore the press of his erection against your inner thigh, but you wanted to make sure he was still okay with what was happening between you before you went any further.

He nodded, albeit stiffly, and the tips of his ears burned hot. "Y-Yeah, just...I, uh, might need some help with this part."

The sweet smile that you gave him had his heart doing flips within his ribcage. "That's cool," You said, your fingers twirling in the incredibly soft, dark hair at the base of his skull as your voice took on a lighter tone. "I happen to be intimately familiar with myself so I'm really gonna be the best teacher you'll get right now."

Your words drew an amused huff from Ted and the tension in his shoulders eased off. "Awesome. So, um, how do you like to be touched?"

It was such an innocent question but it made your pussy throb something fierce.

You took one of his hands into your own and brought his thumb to your lips. Ted's eyes zeroed in on your mouth and he inhaled sharply as you sucked on it. You coated the appendage with spit before guiding it down to your clit, his head dipping as he followed your movements.

"Here," You shuddered as his callused pad pressed against your little bundle of nerves. "Start with slow circles."

Ted did as he was told and began moving his thumb in slow, steady circles over your clit, mesmerized by the sight and sensation of your sensitive flesh beneath his touch. The soft sighs of satisfaction coming from you spurred him on and he picked up the pace. His other hand moved back underneath your top to gently pinch your nipple.

You gasped and spread your legs further, scooting to the edge of the counter and seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Want your fingers in me, Ted."

Uncertainty and lust swam in his eyes as they snapped back to yours, his cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of pink.

"Don't worry," You comforted. "I'll guide you."

Doing his best to steady the tremble in his hand, Ted dragged his middle finger over your slick folds to gently rub at your entrance. The corners of his plush lips quirked upwards - you were so wet. Not just wet, you were soaked.

"Whoa, babe. You're totally dripping wet right now." Ted grinned, flashing you with a bright, toothy smile filled with pride.

Giddiness bubbled in your chest, delight rushing throughout your body and you curled your toes. You matched his grin. "Duh; my hot best friend is about to fuck me. Of course I'm wet."

He blinked at you owlishly and his cock twitched against your inner thigh. "...You think I'm hot?"

You hesitated before nodding. "I...have done for a while-"

Your confession was cut off by a gasp as Ted slid his finger inside you without warning. The walls of your pussy instinctively squeezed his long digit as he slowly pumped it in and out of you experimentally, his eyes on your face the whole time to check for any signs of discomfort.

"That's it," You breathed. "Now add another finger."

Ted savoured your praise did as he was told, pulling his hand back to push both his middle and ring finger into you. You moaned softly this time and lifted your knees to give him better access and a better angle, the slight stretch filling you will a little more satisfaction.

You'd gotten so used to the feeling of your own touch you'd almost forgotten what it felt like with someone else. God, you missed this.

"Ah!" Pleasure shot through your nerves when his long digits brushed against that sweet spot deep inside you. "There, Teddy - curl your fingers right there."

He pushed his fingers into you to the knuckles and curled them as you said, his calloused fingertips rubbing against your g-spot and pulling more delightful sounds from your lips as he fingered you. Ted could feel the way your walls clenched around his digits and the wet sounds of your soaking cunt taking his fingers so easily had him so hard it almost hurt.

Judging by your reactions he was pretty damn sure he was making you feel good, but he wanted to hear you say it - no, he needed you to tell him.

"Is that good?"

The doe-eyed look on his face paired with his fingers working you like magic was enough to make you whimper. He may not have been able to play the guitar that well, but he was playing your pussy well enough to have you singing.

"Y-Yes," You nodded as your thighs began to tremble. "Feels so fuckin' good, Teddy."

Ted couldn't hold on any longer. Retracting his slick digits from you, he dipped down to press a quick, searing kiss to your lips and then rest his forehead against yours.

"Babe, I gotta fuck you now."

"Please," You panted, hooking your legs around his hips once more as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance.

Ted looked into your eyes as if waiting for permission to go past the point of no return. You nodded in confirmation, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your whole body buzzed with anticipation.

Slowly, Ted pushed his throbbing length inside you, inching in bit by bit as the wet walls of your pussy accommodated his size. Your fingernails left little crescent moon marks on his smooth skin as you gripped onto his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax as he inched further in.

The low, loud grown from Ted made the sensation of his cock stretching you out all the sweeter. Your hot breaths mingled as Ted bottomed out, his hips flush against the soft skin of your inner thighs and his hands moved to rest on your hips.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other and unmoving. You expected Ted to begin thrusting not long after pushing all the way in, but he was as still as a statue for long enough that it had you concerned.

"Teddy?" You opened your eyes to look at him. "You good?"

There was clear concentration on his flushed face, mixed with something akin to frustration. His dark brows were furrowed with a deep crease etched between them and his ears burned hot with embarrassment.

"Ted? Are-"

"I'll bust if I move." He blurted, voice cracking.

You had to bite back against a laugh, thoroughly amused by his choice of words. How was it possible for Ted to still be adorable during a moment like this?

Ted inhaled deeply, trying to steady the rapid thumping of his heart. "Just - just gimme a sec."

It was incredibly hard to not think about the fact that he was balls deep inside you. The thought alone was enough to have Ted teetering on the edge. Your pussy was warm and wet and tight and unlike anything he'd felt around his dick before. Quite frankly he was amazed he'd even lasted this long.

After what felt like an age, Ted let out a shuddering breath and pulled his hips back slowly before pushing into you again. You sighed, relief and pleasure flowing through your veins as he finally gave you that much needed friction your body craved so desperately.

His large hands gripped your hips tight as he thrusted in and out of you, keeping the pace slow and steady - mostly for his own sake - while his confidence gradually increased with each little pleasured sound that fell from your lips.

"Fuuuuck Ted, that's it," You praised him as he picked up the pace, the two of you becoming lost in your combined pleasure. "That's it, you're fucking me so good - Ah!"

Ted's hips suddenly snapped forwards, slamming the full length of his cock into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your wet walls throbbed around him as the head hit that wonderful little spot inside you and your fingers gripped at the soft hair on the back of his head.

"Shit, sorry-"

Your mouth swallowed his apology in a hot, open mouthed kiss. Ted was quick to reciprocate, groaning as you nipped and sucked on his bottom lip.

"Do that again."

That was all he needed to hear. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin bounced off the kitchen walls as Ted pumped his dick in and out of you, the sensitive skin glistening with your slick arousal. He did his best to angle his thrusts so that he was hitting that spot that had you clawing at his back and moaning his name, desperately wanting to make you feel good as he chased his own release.

"God babe - ngh - pussy's so fuckin' tight," One of his hands relinquished the vice grip it had on your hip to slide back under your t-shirt and grab your breast and squeeze. "Feels too good, fuckin' excellent, m'gonna - mmnh - gonna cum soon."

You reached a hand down between your spread legs to rub your swollen clit, aching for attention as that familiar heat began to coil in your abdomen, tighter and tighter as you neared your peak.

"Me too Ted, m'so close - so fucking close-"

The coil inside you snapped.

"Teddy!"

Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, pleasure coursing through your veins in heavy waves. Ted's thrusts became sloppy while he fucked you through your climax, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came on his cock being too much for him to handle.

"Shit babe, gonna cum-"

With a low, loud groan, Ted pulled out of you and gripped his throbbing length. After a few quick pumps of his fist, he spilled his cum over your skin, coating the soft swell of your lower tummy and the hem of your top in pearly white ropes.

The two of you stayed silent as you caught your breath, chests heaving. You let your legs drop and Ted placed his large hands on your thighs, steadying himself as his own legs threatened to give out from under him as he came down from his high.

Nervous bubbles began to simmer in your stomach as you watched Ted through lidded eyes. How would Ted feel about you now? Would this change things between you? And most importantly: Would he regret it?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small smile tugged at the corners of Ted's kiss-swollen lips.

"Now that," He met your gaze. "was most excellent."

A bright smile broke out across your face and your heart did flips, giddiness shooting right down to the tips of your toes. "Agreed. You feel a bit better now?"

You watched Ted closely as he took a step back and bent down to shimmy his boxers and basketball shorts back up his long legs, before retrieving your own shorts and panties from the kitchen tiles and holding them out to you with a smile that shone with earnestness.

"Definitely."

[vandnana]

In Love With The Enemy [I]

Chapter 1: Why So Blue?

pairing: lo’ak x female turned na’vi reader

summary: during the time when jake became toruk makto, you were quaritch’s youngest and most valued soldier, the daughter he never had. but, pandora changed you and you died during the final battle, betraying quaritch and wishing that you had been able to do more. now, you have been reborn again, as a na’vi, tasked with quaritch’s new military avatar crew to kill Jake Sully. taking advantage of this second chance at life, you help the Sullys and fall in love along the way.

genre: fluff, angst ~ slow burn, pining on lo’ak’s part 

highlights: [lo’ak already having a crush on the reader after LITERALLY almost trying to kill her, jake and reader have their tearful reunion!, quaritch still in his toxic dad era, and lo’ak admiring reader in the bioluminescence of the forest]

word count: 9,332

note: hello! thank you all again for waiting for this part! a couple things...when i was writing, i got soo carried away, but i couldn’t help writing in moments of reader with lo’ak in their first encounters cause shes totally intrigued and he has an effect on her, but both of them are in that awkward staring phase??? with that being said, i hope you enjoy!!

[Prologue] [chapter 2]

Light infiltrated your senses, invading your shut eyes as you heard voices around you, the sounds distant at first, but slowly heightening as you came to. Opening them, the fluorescent lights stunned you, your hand instinctively finding its way to the front of your face. You pulled it away, the sight so shocking that you figured you were in hell, punished to be what you had failed to protect.

You were blue, a Na’vi, adorned in hospital gowns with wires attached all over your body. 

You felt sharp pains in your head and pangs in your heart, endless memories flooding your mind in swarms, the happiness, the pain, the loss...you remembered it all as you took in your surroundings. 

You got up instantly, pulling off the wires as you searched around, your vision becoming less blurry as you continued to blink. 

You looked for Grace first before you realized she was gone, murdered by your father, the agony once cauterized now festering into an open wound as the memory sunk stones in your heart. You were looking around for Jake, Norm and, Trudy, but they were nowhere to be found. You were alone, heartbroken, and confused. 

“Whoo! Looks like the baby’s awake!” You heard from behind the door, other blue figures walking in wearing full camo, all of them strutting over to you. 

In your newly awakened shock, you had a delayed reaction to your body just waking up, your muscles suddenly feeling like jelly as you kept yourself steady on the bed with your hands. As everyone filed in, you hoped that at least one of them would be Jake, but you sunk your shoulders as you realized who they were.

Wainfleet, Warren, Zdinarsk, and Fike. They were the soldiers you grew up training with, all cut from the same obnoxious and arrogant rock. 

Wainfleet shook your shoulders, laughing loudly as he looked at your expression, your teeth gritted as you did your best to hide how much you despised all of them, “Hey y/n, why so blue?”

The rest of them laughed aloud with him, and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you aggressively, which only made him erupt with more laughter, “Still as feisty as ever.” Wainfleet sighed. 

Lagging behind, one last person walked through the door, and unlike the rest of the regiment, he was wearing hospital gowns like you were. When he turned toward you, you recognized him right away.

It was Quaritch, your father, the man you owed your life to when you were human. 

But it wasn’t really him. 

He had become his worst nightmare and in seeing him, you were convinced that you really had been damned to hell. He was Na’vi too and a real sight for sore eyes, his movements awkward and almost repulsed as he approached, like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. The only comfort that he seemed to take refuge in was seeing you, his daughter, his prodigy.

He hugged you and for the first time, he smiled. “My little girl, real nice to see you.”

You hardly shared the same sentiment, the comfort you should have felt replaced by torment and pain. Your memories with your father were consumed by both, and in that moment, that was all you could feel. It was rare for him to ever hug you like this. You never felt any warmth from his embraces, just a temporary sense of relief that you had done something right, that you didn’t disappoint him. You had endured it all your life, desperately clinging to the good things he did, your gratefulness to him for saving you from a worthless life overwhelming any rational thought.

Your father seemed to be the one savoring the feeling of holding you, the roles unexpectedly reversed as he, for the first time in his life, clung to you, like you were the only tether to who he once was. 

Before, you would have considered yourself lucky, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and savoring that feeling. But as you sat on the bed, you kept your arms at your sides and your eyes glued to the ceiling, biting your cheek as you fought every urge to give into your anger, to push him off you and make him pay for what he did to Grace. 

You took a deep breath in, relaxing as you faced forward again, “I’d be stupid to believe that we were brought back for a simple reunion. Why are we here? And how are we avatars?” You had a firm tone, almost emotionless besides your lifted syllable at the end to indicate your question.

Quaritch let go of you, a proud, satisfied grin on his face as he pulled back, “Perceptive as always.” 

He crossed his arms, “All of us got our ticket punched the last time we were on Pandora, and for the sins of our past we have been brought back to life in the form of our enemy to complete one simple task.”

“What’s the mission?” You remained stoic, mirroring your father as you crossed your arms. 

He chuckled lightly, his tone suddenly confident as his eyes reflected his renewed sense of purpose, “We’ve been ordered to eliminate the leader of the Na’vi insurgency known as Toruk Makto.”

The emotion you held in burst out in the surprise you showed in your widened eyes. Unfolding your arms, you felt a flit of relief settle in your heart, “Jake’s alive?” 

He turned his head, the rest of your regiment whooping with excitement, their smirks irradiating a sinister aura as they gathered around your father. 

“That’s right, y/n. Sully’s alive.” Your father gloated, his eyes ferocious with vengeance, “And we’re gonna kill him.”

He gave you no chance to protest, walking out with the rest of the regiment as he pointed to the clothes beside you, “Now, go on and get dressed. We got an hour before Pandora insertion.” 

You grabbed the clothes from the table, your hands tightening around them and your breathing ragged as you could feel your frustrations finally spill out. 

You had been born again, but at what cost? 

The same people that sent you to Pandora were the same people that made an unholy decision, reaching into the past and plucking you out of the comfort of death just to reclaim the glory they still believed was theirs.

When you had awoken, you had figured you had damned yourself for all eternity, and in learning about your new mission, you were right. You were thrust back into your own nightmare, a horrible repeat of the life you had once known, your orders betraying what you had in your heart, just like it did before.

You wanted no part in reclaiming glory and rewriting your father’s failure, but it was the only reason why your heart was even beating. Your mind was only just catching up on your grief, the loss so fresh and so vivid that you felt guilty to have that heartbeat. 

You were the Colonel’s daughter. 

Why did you deserve to live when Grace was dead? Why did you get a second chance at life when your only reason for breathing was to destroy Jake?

Everything about your life now was born from selfishness, the selfishness of Sky People that had no respect for philosophies regarding life and wholly disregarded the notions that dead things should stay dead.

You didn’t know what happened to Trudy or Norm, but you naturally thought the worst, and that made your mere existence even more unbearable. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you died, but for you, you never felt that time pass, never felt the pain of being gone from those you love. It felt cruel to be alive, the torment of it aching you as you thought of how Jake must have felt when you died and how much it must have hurt. 

You looked up, your eyes catching a glimpse of your reflection in the metal lining of the walls. You touched your face lightly as you stared, so bewildered by how you looked. You weren’t the old you anymore, only the shell of your humanity in the semblance of your features. 

And for the first time since you woke, you smiled, “If only Grace could see me now.” You mumbled to yourself, the sadness of losing her still lingering behind the calm that settled over you at having thought about her. 

You got up, finally deciding to change out of your gowns, and you could have sworn you heard Grace’s voice in the back of your mind, telling you what she always loved to tell you, how you were smarter than you let yourself believe and how you had a heart bigger than the soldiers you were surrounded by.

You took a look at yourself again, those words that felt as if they were just spoken yesterday shrouded over you. It felt unfair to be alive, and that guilt was deep inside of you, but you pushed that feeling aside as your own sense of purpose triumphed over it.

Whatever it took, whatever you needed to do, you were going to save what was left of your family.

You were going to save Jake. 

~

It was two minutes until Pandora insertion, your breather on as you waited for your descent onto the planet. You were quiet, keeping to yourself as you rode along with everyone else, absorbing every detail of the plans until you could figure out the best way to help Jake. 

When you had finally reached the ground, the hatch opened and getting up, you walked out, expecting to find yourself surrounded by the forest you loved so much. 

Pulling your breather off though, your smile dropped, your eyes unwilling to process the inconceivable truth. In front of you was the reckoning of humanity in full form, its destructive touch creating an unhallowed grave of the once-rich earth below it. Flashbacks filled your mind as you remembered your early life on earth, the desecration of the forest mirroring the desolation that you had escaped when you left for Pandora. Sky People had killed their Mother, holding onto the little that she could provide before finally destroying Her integrity.

Back then, Selfridge was all about the money, and while greed was still very much a part of the new frontier you had found yourself in, humanity’s motives had suddenly become desperate for something else--a new home.

The air no longer held a healthy vigor, a gray density taking its place and expelling a putrid, metallic smell that filled your nose. You were in horrid disbelief, the sight in front of you giving reason to the smell as you rubbed your eyes, still not wanting to believe that the damnation in front of you was real. You were witnessing an entire infestation, complete with insect-shaped machina, their hardware programmed to build the towers and towers of future buildings that would make up what would be known as Bridgehead City. 

Behind you, you felt slight relief to see that forest still remained in the distance, but with how quickly the machina bugs were building, it was only inevitable that their work would continue southward and beyond. The General in charge, General Ardmore, although satisfied with the progress that they had made in a year, was still taking losses thanks to Jake’s raids, his forces the only reason that the land had not been fully conquered.

You were looking at the footage from his recent raid, Ardmore’s hands on her hips as she explained the situation, “Jake’s raids are becoming bolder and more frequent.”

Putting a hand on your chin, you let out a weak chuckle, “Looks like Sully’s giving you a run for your money.”

Wainfleet nudged you in the ribs with a disapproving look, but you shoved him away, crossing your arms, “I’m only speaking the truth. He was a Marine, guys. I’m not surprised. He knows exactly how you all think.” Your tone was condescending as you glared at General Ardmore, who seemed to only tolerate your consistent interruptions.

She glared back at you, “Are you questioning my methods, Lieutenant?”

Quaritch was taken aback, putting a hand up to your chest, to stop you from continuing. You looked at your father and defiantly you spoke again. “I am questioning your methods, General. You may have been able to tame this frontier in a year with your bionic bugs, but these...savages with their bows and arrows still have you all by the balls.”

She scoffed, “I’d watch that tone, Lieutenant,” She paused as you kept your glare on her, and she turned, another holographic projection of the Hallelujah Mountains emerged, “Although, what you said does hold some truth. We’ve come to believe that he’s holed up somewhere in these mountains within one of its cave systems, but every time we go up there, we take losses. Can’t be more than ten minutes in enemy airspace without stirring up the hornets’ nest.”

You watched as helicopters were swarmed with hoards of ikran, and you were instantly fascinated, your mind querying the possibility of such a hive mind response by animals, “How odd. They never used to do that before.”

“Our only hope of finding Jake’s base is you guys. We think that you will be perceived as indigenous and won’t trigger the immune response, but that’s only our theory.” General Ardmore 

“And how might we test that theory?” You asked, crossing your arms.

Tight-lipped, she sucked a breath in, “The hard way.” 

Quaritch snickered, a cocky smirk on his face, “Outstanding.” 

“Good. No time to waste. Let’s fly.” She replied with a pleased grin.

Ardmore ordered for a helicopter to be prepped and escorted you toward the hangar. When you entered it, the pilot was just getting into the helicopter and you instantly thought of Trudy, your best friend who loved to raid the caf late at night with you and begged you to fly with her all those years ago.

Quaritch interrupted your thoughts as he pulled you back, “What’s wrong with you? You don’t talk to your superiors like that again, you understand me?”

Reluctantly you nodded, “Yes sir. I understand.” 

“You better. Now get in.” He let go of your arm, motioning for you to enter the helicopter. 

Wainfleet had a dumb smile on his face, asking curiously, “Where we headed first, Colonel?”

“Where it all started.” He replied, his eyes lighting up with his inspired rage, “W

Touching down on one of the mountains, a stream of nostalgia flowed through you as your mind replayed the first day you had ever landed there with Trudy. Site 26 was only a couple meters away, but each step was like a remnant of the past, scenes flashing in front of you as if you were only there yesterday. 

You suddenly felt like you were home once again. 

The forest had grown so much, the plant life around you like a warm blanket as the trees enveloped your figure everywhere you went. The soft earth squished down as you took a step while the intertwining branches and brambles gave you a hearty challenge as you maneuvered. Your ears twitched at the range of sounds, some delicate and others obvious, those ones keeping the rest of your crew on edge, their guns readied pointedly in every direction.

You were merely keeping protocol, not planning on shooting anything as you trudged carefully through the forest. Even with all that you had learned about Jake, you still had no plan. Any hope you had of going out to find him alone was futile, knowing that Quaritch would notice your absence instantly.

Approaching Site 26, Wainfleet took his place beside your father, joining him as they both stepped into the clearing. You hesitated, yet to brush past the infiltrating brush as the gaps in the leaves gave you a skewed view of the shack, which had clearly been abandoned, any sign of life nonexistent. 

You could hear slight rustling in the trees, the movement calculated and quick. Craning your neck, you looked upward, catching an unmistakable shimmer of blue as you watched the figure of a young man maneuver behind a thicket of green foliage above.

There was no use in hiding, you had already seen him and in his boldness, he brushed the leaves away, staring down at you with his bow already drawn back in his hand, and behind him was a younger girl, the side of her face only visible to you. 

As he continued to look at you, you put your gun down, your figure still as you squinted up at him, his face holding so much familiarity to you that you fell silent.

He was unusually hesitant to kill you, convincing himself that he was only being strategic, but truthfully, he just thought you were pretty, unable to contain a  flush in his face. The younger girl he was with, looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched his odd behavior. He looked hardly older than you, but you still couldn’t figure out who he was, and you knew that the longer they were there, the more danger they were in.

You put your hands up, whispering as you spoke to them in Na’vi, “You both shouldn’t be here. Go back. They’ll kill you if they see you.”

He kept his bowstring taut, conflicted as he faced you, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Why not let them kill my ass then?”

“I’m not your enemy.” You replied simply.

Quaritch looked over, seeing your figure behind the brush, calling you through his telecom device, “You got eyes on something, y/n?”

Placing your fingers on your own device, the young man drew his bow back again upon instinct, “No sir.” You shook your head, “There’s nothing but trees here.”

Giving them both one last glance, you made your way into the clearing, the young man’s eyes following you as you left, glued to you as you made your way to your father.

“Why are you just staring, Lo’ak? You heard her. We should go.” She pulled at him, trying to get him to budge.

“Not yet Tuk. I have to see what they’re up to.” He warned, glancing at her from the side and shushing her.

Carefully, he advanced forward, climbing to a higher branch with Tuk following behind him quietly. From a higher spot, Lo’ak watched as you, Quaritch, and Wainfleet gathered near your father’s AMP suit.

You were towering over it, your father frowning as his eyes were glued to his own battered skeleton staring back at him like an undead taunt. He put his hand on the arrows sticking out of his body, the two of them embedded into his chest mocking him scornfully too.

You looked down at the AMP suit, a relic of your father’s failure and you noticed his dogtags, pulling them off his skeleton. Your father always wore his, but he always had a copy of yours too. Handing them to him, he took them, his fingers gently brushing the metal and reading the engravings before he put them around his neck.

He looked up at you, “Check the old shack. Wainfleet and I are gonna look around some more.” 

You nodded, obeying the order. Pushing away the vines, you hopped in through the broken window. You were too big to stand tall, crouching as your eyes settled on everything, no longer seeing the reality of the wreckage in front of you, but rather the scenes of your memories. 

You felt as if you had traveled in time, back to the best days of your old life as you trailed your hands along the pods and going further toward the west-end you stopped, seeing your old bunk. You had decorated the frame with a few pictures and removing them, you wiped the dust away.

You held them up to the peeking light in the shack as you traced your hands over the pictures. One of them was just of you and Jake flipping off the camera, making you laugh to yourself. The other was your whole family, you squished between Jake and Grace, Norm and Trudy standing behind you, all of you grinning widely, your happiness caught in the stillness of one shot. 

That was the thing about happiness, it could vanish in an instant, the once pristine shack you had always remembered disappearing as you were faced with the reality of what it actually was. You were in a wreckage, your despair sinking into the broken glass that littered the floor. You hugged the pictures to your chest, savoring the memories before putting them in your pocket.

“Roll out, roll out! We got movement!” An urgent shout rang from outside.

Hopping back out, you followed after Wainfleet and the Colonel, both of them charging toward the forest.

Multiple shots were fired as you navigated through the forest floor and above, you saw the two Na’vi that you had seen earlier, frantically running through the branches and dodging bullets. 

Climbing up the tree, you chased after them, hoping to put enough distance between them and the rest of the regiment, “Ardmore was clear about what she wanted. If they know where Sully is, these two are no good to us dead.”

You were pleading on the side of reason and logic, lying through your teeth as you pretended to be on board with a mission that you only saw as immoral insanity. 

Quaritch rattled off commands, “Secure the girl! We only need one of them to draw Sully out. Kill the other one if you have to.”

You were catching up to the both of them, impossibly fast as you navigated through the branches, keeping your balance as you hopped from one to another. The younger one looked behind her, her foot suddenly catching on one of the branches and and sending her plummeting to the ground below with a hard thump.

Watching her fall felt like everything was happening in slow motion, your mind teetering on what to do as you continued to run after the young man, watching as Zdinarsk and Warren took her by the arms, dragging her off toward the shack per your father’s orders.

“In pursuit of the Na’vi male. No need for back up.” You quickly let out in your telecom, sprinting toward the young man as he was about to jump off the branch.

You tackled him, his back landing harshly on the bark as he yelled for his sister, “Tuk!” 

His eyes immediately went to you, enraged as he hissed at you first, maneuvering himself from under you and pushing you into the bark, his hands pinning your arms down.

“I’m trying to save you both.” You retorted, kicking from underneath him, inflicting a sharp pain in his legs that loosened his grip.

“Like hell you are. I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He wrestled you down again, but you punched him hard, catching him off guard as he placed his finger to his lips, now bloodied.

“Then you’d be dead and so would she.” You spat, grabbing his arm and securing him onto his back once more, your grip on him strong as he fought you off with all his might. 

You brought your knife to his neck, forceful as you pushed it against his skin, “I’m not your enemy.” His eyes were fearless, challenging you as you stared into his eyes. 

You huffed, lifting your knife from him and striking the bark so close to his ears that you nicked him slightly, blood drawing from where you had caught him.

You put a firm hand on his chest, catching your breath as you calmly talked to him, “I don’t want to fight you, okay?”

He placed his hands on your waist, swiping his leg from underneath yours to press you back into the bark, his eyes narrowed at you, his face smug, “Then what do you want to do? Dance?” 

You scoffed at his arrogance, “I want to help you.” You put a finger on his forehead, your teeth gritted, “You need to get it through your thick skull that if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

“I need to save my sister.” He was panting, still stubbornly persistent, but in his desperation, reluctantly loosened his aggressive grip on you.

You lifted yourself up too, your face so dangerously close to his as you glared at him. “You have no fear. I see it in your eyes. But that won’t save you or your sister. Even with all that courage, you have no chance against my regiment. Not alone at least.”

Your voice sent goosebumps down his whole body, his cheeks reddening as he tightened his jaw. He scoffed listening to you, his pride too great to acknowledge that truth. You stood up, putting a hand out. He hesitated to take it, and you rolled your eyes, leaning down to pull him up. He blinked at you, the feeling of your hands in his warm and kind, a sudden stark difference to how they felt when you were fighting.

You had a determined expression on your face, your speech hurried as you cautiously looked around you, “I’ll keep your sister safe. You have my word, but I can only think of one person who’ll know how to deal with my regiment.”

He sighed, your hands still intertwined, “Who?”

“Your Olo’eyktan, Jake Sully. My father, Colonel Quaritch, has orders to kill him, and your sister is his best bet at drawing him out.”

The young man’s face paling in shock, his mouth parted in utter disbelief, “Why does your father want to kill mine?”

You withdrew your hand, blinking as your brain could hardly process what he had just said, his reason for feeling so familiar slowly being committed to truth. In your shock, your mouth spewed your thoughts in an almost inaudible whisper, your face paling as you stared at him, “Had I really been dead that long?”

You couldn’t help but stare at him and looking down, you scolded yourself for not noticing his hands before, too encapsulated by that initial familiarity you felt about him. 

He tilted his head, squinting at you, “How do you know him?” 

“Look I-” You began, but your father’s voice in your ear interrupted you, startling you out of your deep thought, “Y/n, what’s your traffic?”

Putting your hands to your telecom you answered, “Returning to the rally point.”

You grabbed your knife that was stuck in the branch frantically, giving the young man one last look, soft and reassuring even amidst your seriousness, “Don’t worry about your sister. You have to go now! Hurry!”

Without another word, you jumped off the branch, your pocket snagging on it and sending the photos you had put in them flying into the air. The young man caught them in his hands, and seeing you, he was taken aback. He had seen your face before, but as he searched his mind, he found nothing to satisfy your mystery. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his head, pocketing the photos as he ran in the opposite direction of the shack, calling his ikran and darting away back to base.

When you had arrived at the shack, Tuk was bound to a nearby tree branch while Fike held her by her hair, ignoring her squirms as she tried to keep her cries silent. 

Quaritch walked over to you with a satisfied grin, patting you on the shoulder, “We got a prisoner thanks to you, but you were gone a while. That savage didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

“No, sir. I let him go.” You responded simply.

“You what?” Quaritch yelled at you, furious.

“What good would he be dead? Eclipse is almost nearing and we’re in enemy airspace. We don’t have time for a full night-op. If I had let killed him, then who would be the one to tell Jake?” You argued back, your voice poised as you spoke.

“And how can you be so sure they won’t just leave this brat to die?” Wainfleet interjected, the question marking curiosity in everyone.

You glared at Wainfleet, biting your cheek as you hesitated for a moment. You didn’t want to reveal their identities, but with how bloodthirsty they looked, you knew that they were practically begging for any excuse to kill her. 

You sighed, “They’re his children.”

Quaritch’s expression turned sinister, his eyes lowering toward Tuk, whose face was scrunched up in fear, “Is that right? This is Sully’s kid?”

You nodded, your father awed by his own dumb luck as he looked up at the sky, laughing, “It must be my lucky day.”

Looking back at you, he put a hand on your shoulder, “I’m calling for extraction. We take her on board if Sully’s late.”

Calling the general through the telecom, he confirmed the helicopter’s arrival and turning toward the clearing, he called out, “Lyle!” 

Wainfleet, rushed over to him, your father pointing to the suit, “See if you can pull some data off that suit, and y/n, keep an eye on our prisoner.” 

You nodded, walking over to her as your father and Wainfleet disappeared into the clearing once more. 

Fike who was snickering as he watched Tuk squirm stopped once you cleared your throat, “Piss off. I’m sure you’re tired of daycare duty.”

Fike let go willingly, “My arm was getting kind of tired. Thanks.” He replied jokingly. 

He walked over to the others, talking amongst themselves loudly. You crouched beside the girl, who hissed at you, her pain manifesting itself in her eyes.

You remembered her name as you tried to comfort her, “Tuk, your brother is safe. You don’t need to be scared.”

Hearing her hiss, Zdinarsk was about to stomp over, but you stopped her, covering Tuk’s mouth with your hand. She turned around again, slinging her arm around Fike’s shoulders as she continued the conversation.

When she finally looked away, you took your knife out, tampering with the binds on her hands and loosening the seal, “I sent your brother to find your dad. He was once of the Sky People, but now he is Na’vi. Only he can stop them. Do you understand?”

She couldn’t believe what you were doing, her gaze darting from you to her wrists, you continued to talk soothingly, “When the time is right, you’ll be able to get out of those no problem.”

“Is my dad really coming?” She sniffled, her expression begging for you to be telling the truth.

You met her eyes kindly, “Yes. He is. I made sure that he would. And as long as you’re here with me, you’re safe.”

She relaxed, her expression relieved, a smile adorning her face finally, “Thank you for helping me and Lo’ak.” 

You smiled at her warmly, “Ah, so that’s your brother’s name.” She nodded and you couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering your fight on the branches, “I’m y/n.”

“Y/n. That’s pretty. How did you know my name?” Tuk asked innocently.

“I heard Lo’ak call you. Your name is pretty too.” 

She blushed, “Thank you.” 

She looked at her wrists, “How will I know when the time is right?”

Returning your knife to where it was, you put a hand on her shoulder, “You’ll know, Tuk.” You smiled, “Your dad knows how to make an entrance.” 

As you looked at her, you saw more of her parents in her. You had been so focused on the thought of being brought back to life, that you didn’t even bother to notice how long you really had been dead. You felt it first looking at Lo’ak, but it had finally sunk into you. 

It felt surreal, and as you sat on the soft, rich soil, you realized that you had probably died somewhere in the forest, your body a relic of the past just like your father’s was.

Quaritch walked out of the brush with a disgruntled expression, his eyes irradiating with an unkempt rage. When you saw him, you stood up, placing yourself between him and Tuk.

"What happened? Why are you-” You stopped as your father pushed past you, kneeling as he put a knife to Tuk’s throat.

He pulled her head back, seething, “Listen here little girl, the only reason why you’re breathing now is because I wanna see your father’s face when I kill you.”

Tuk froze, petrified as fear overtook her body, so stunned that she couldn’t even utter a whimper. 

“What the hell are you doing? She’s just a child!” You yelled at your father, something you had never done before, the height of your voice making him lift his grip on her. 

Slowly he ascended, his eyes squinted at you in disbelief, “I don’t care if she’s a child. She’s his. Sully’s gonna pay for what he did to us. To our family. Nothing’s over. Not while we’re breathing.”

The hatefulness in his words trapped you as you felt his manic desperation suck the fresh air around you, the world feeling as if it was sinking into abysmal darkness as you couldn’t shield the horror in your eyes.

He took the dogtags you had given him earlier and put them around your neck, “This Na’vi blood’s making you soft. You wear this as a reminder, y/n, a reminder of who you are and where you came from.”

Quaritch stomped off, barking orders to Fike as he left the perimeter, leaving you with those dogtags on your neck, mocking you. You clasped your hands around the dogtags wanting to rip them off your neck and cast them far from you, but you stopped yourself, your shoulders sinking as you sat beside Tuk again.

Your expression matched the darkening sky, the light that cascaded through the trees slowly succumbing to eclipse, and unsure of how to comfort you, Tuk put her hands over yours, your hearts anxious for what was ahead.

~

“Where’s your sister, Lo’ak? Where’s Tuk?” Jake yelled, his tone abrasive as he aggressively took his son by the shoulders, Neytiri behind him, her eyes filled with worry. 

His brother Neteyam went to his side while his other sister Kiri took the other, both of them teeming with worry. 

 Lo’ak brushed them both off as he made eye-contact with his father, the urgency in his voice showing in his hurriedness, “Colonel Quaritch. He took her, but this girl, she’s keeping her safe and she told me to find you.”

Jake squinted at his son, enraged by such nonsense. He raised his voice in anger, “What the hell are you talking about? Quaritch? A-a girl? That’s impossible. Answer the goddamn question, Lo’ak! Where is your sister?”

"Where is Tuk?” Neytiri repeated, the slowness in her voice giving intense warning as she glared at him.

“Tuk is at the shack, but you have to listen to me, dad. They’re all avatars. They were wearing camo and they had guns.”

Jake and Neytiri looked at one another, unwilling to believe such a nightmarish thing. Still, they were sure of one thing. Tuk was gone, and whether they believed what Lo’ak had said, it didn’t matter. They’re daughter’s life was on the line.

“Let’s go get our daughter.” Jake said to his mate, who nodded, calling her ikran, Jake doing the same.

Lo’ak reached the edge of the camp, mounting his ikran and almost darting off before Kiri and Neteyam showed up at his side.

Kiri groaned in annoyance, “What are you doing? You’re gonna get in trouble!”

Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak’s arm, glaring, “Don’t, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak shoved him off, mounting his ikran, “Just come with me and stop being such a wuss.”

Lo’ak flew off, Neteyam grunting as he followed his brother, cursing at him under his breath.

Eclipse had finally taken over the sky and with it came a steady rainfall, giving Jake and Neytiri an advantage. Neteyam and Lo’ak followed not long after, and in his fury, commanded them to both stay by the ikrans, Neteyam reluctantly obeying, while Lo’ak agreed halfheartedly.

Jake and Neytiri moved in silence, calculating every move with precision. Neytiri took to the trees and Jake covered the ground, his tomahawk firmly ready in his hand. Carefully and silently, Jake disarmed the soldiers guarding the perimeter while Neytiri waited for the opportune moment to strike. 

Everyone else took their positions when dusk fell, the usual calm of the forest becoming eerie, the slight movements of the nature surrounding you making the crew jumpy, their guns at the ready, expectant of any attack. Earlier, when no one was looking, you loosened the binds around her wrists, telling her that when the time was right, she would be able to escape easily.

Tuk kept that in mind, her eyes glued to her wrists as she waited that perfect time. The noises around you had been constant, the rain, the occasional rustling of the leaves, certain animal calls. But, a new sound broke in the wind, making your ears twitch. Tuk heard it loud and clear, looking up at you, and you understood what the sound was. It was a call, a signal that Jake had finally come. 

After the wake of that new sound, the unmistakeable twang of an arrow burst through the thick air, sending Fike backwards and killing him instantly. Bullets rang through the air from another direction, sending the other soldiers flying to the ground. Tuk, who had figured this was the perfect time to set herself free, squeezed her hands through the binds and ran in the opposite direction of the fire, screaming when she ran into someone, but sinking with relief when she realized it was Lo’ak and Neteyam.

Neteyam took Tuk into his arms, holding her as Lo’ak grabbed her by the shoulder, “Where’s the girl, the girl that helped us?” He asked her.

Tuk pointed opposite his direction, “Y/n! She’s over there!”

Lo’ak, without any hesitation ran toward where Tuk had pointed, carefully maneuvering as he approached. 

You and the rest of the soldiers took cover as bullets continued to sweep the forest floor, bullets that you knew could only be coming from Jake. 

Quaritch, who had taken cover behind a log, saw the arrow, his voice sinister as he attempted to draw her out. “Is that you Mrs. Sully?”

She instantly recognized the voice, but she kept a poised anger, despite the ghostly chill she felt down her spine, “I will kill you as many times as I have to, demon.”

Quaritch huffed out cockily, reloading his weapon, “Looks like you’ve been busy while I’ve been gone, but don’t worry Mrs. Sully. Pretty soon, you won’t have a family to protect.”

Looking at Warren and Wainfleet, Quaritch gave his signal, the two of them putting their eyes in their scopes to search for Neytiri as he continued to talk, taunting her with unbearable arrogance.

She was stuck where she was, any movement marking her for death as guns in all directions were targeting her. You used your scope to watch your crew intently from the opposite side. Warren’s eyes were fixed on the trees, and you knew he caught sight of her when he stopped, aiming as he pointed his gun at her. You aimed at Warren ready to pull the trigger, but an arrow came flying through the sky behind you, shooting through Warren’s chest and sending his body instantly to the ground. 

Wainfleet immediately turned toward the arrow’s origin and you followed his line of sight to find Lo’ak behind you. You stepped in front of the line of fire, attempting to stop Wainfleet, but he had already pulled the trigger. The bullet had landed above your clavicle, a seemingly fatal wound as your body dropped, Lo’ak catching you as you fell. 

Wainfleet’s eyes widened, turning his head to the Colonel, who hadn’t seen what had happened, and in his flustered state, Wainfleet backed away slowly,  running to your father’s side.

At that same instant, Quaritch took his shot, gauging where Neytiri was and releasing a detonation of bullets that bursted with deadly fire, the area engulfing in a massive explosion that ruptured the area, pieces of bark flying all throughout the forest like shrapnel. Taking her chance, Neytiri ran, and seeing her movement, Quaritch ordered the crew to follow. Jake followed too, disarming soldiers from where he had taken cover and using the last of his bullets to secure Neytiri’s safety. 

You were lying on the ground, Lo’ak breaking your fall as you both tumbled to the grassy floor, “Shit!” He yelled out once he noticed the blood dripping from the wound. 

Shifting to your side, he put pressure on it, talking to you gently, “Hey! Stay with me, okay?” 

When your mind finally caught up with your body, you let a deep breath in, sitting up abruptly, the boy retracting his hands as your own touched where your wound was, the blood smeared on your fingertips as more poured down your chest. 

Quickly, you ripped pieces of your shirt as he watched, eyes blinking in confusion as his face flushed, “What are you doing?”

You almost laughed, a smirk on your face, “Relax, I’m not getting naked.” 

Looking around, you took your knife out, slicing off a piece of the bark from a nearby tree, pressing the blade into its flesh as it seeped out sap. You wiped the sap on your wound, feeling the slight sting as Lo’ak watching in confused awe.

Lo’ak let out another question, “Where did you learn how to-”

“I had a great teacher.” You replied, “Yanna bark sap has great healing properties.” 

You gave him the pieces of cloth that you tore, “Just wrap the pieces around.”

He took the cloth from you, covering the wound, “Wrap it tightly.” You ordered.

“Ow!” You yelped as he pulled the cloth taut.

“You said to do it tightly.” He mumbled, continuing to wrap your wound. 

You took his face in your other hand, brushing his lip with your finger, the bottom of it cracked and the blood crusted from when you punched him, “Sorry about that.” 

He could feel his heart beat faster, your fingers still on his lips as he placed his gaze on you. The way he bore his eyes into you made you feel shy, and having never been looked at like that before, you pulled your hand away, but he grabbed it, “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” 

Blues, greens, and purples illuminating your shimmering skin as the plants around regained their bioluminescence. Anyone from the outside looking in would have thought you two were sharing affections, the plants livening around you, sanctifying the air you shared, that small, fleeting moment between the two of you peaceful amidst what had just happened. You cast your eyes away from him quickly though, unable to let yourself slip too deep into that peace, the horrible truth of reality striking at it like vipers.

Your ears twitched, voices coming through your telecom, immediately you turned around, craning your neck as you saw the bright, white lights of the extraction helicopter in the distance, snuffing out the glow of the plants. You could hear the general’s urgency as everyone was ordered to return to the helicopter.

“Get down. They might shoot if they see you.” You pulled him into the nearby brush, the tall, hanging leaves giving cover for you and Lo’ak.

As the helicopter neared and neared, its rotors whirred loudly, silencing the rest of the noises and filling your ears. Through the leaves, you saw the helicopter descend just above the tree line, multiple ropes dropping to the ground for extraction. Immediately, Quaritch stopped his crusade, falling back to the rally point, everyone else following after him. Grabbing onto the rope, he counted who he was with, but let go when he realized you weren’t there. 

“Y/n? Do you read me? Get back to the rally point.” He commanded in his telecom, his voice desperate.

You were about to put your hands on your telecom but you stopped, your fingers hovering over the buttons. You didn’t expect to hesitate. From the moment you woke up, you felt scorned by the presence of your father. But as you heard his voice calling to you so desperately, what was left of that old you, who loved him so much, found its hold on your heart somehow. 

“Y/n? Do you hear me? Get back to the rally point, now!” He yelled out. You could see him in front of you, frantically looking around.

General Ardmore was barking orders too, emotionless, “If she doesn’t come up Colonel. We’ll have to leave and come back tomorrow.”

Despite the whirring of the helicopter, your father’s voice was all you could hear in your head as he continued to scream out your name, the voice that taught you your every move and molded your every thought.

Still, you did nothing, eyes glued to your father in the distance, uncharacteristically panicky as he turned to the rest of his regiment, throwing his hands up, “Where’s my little girl?”

Lo’ak put a hand on your arm, his voice low, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna go back. That guy over there shot you, then left you.”

You looked at him, feeling the guilt within you rise, “Am I not so different from him? From all of them? I don’t belong here on Pandora and I don’t deserve to. If I stay here, I’d still be endangering you all.”

He kept his eyes planted on you, the sadness in your voice reinforcing him to be strong, “And if you go back, then what will happen to you? Will you just obey orders and watch your dad kill mine?” You looked at Lo’ak, your expression still conflicted and too aghast by his boldness to offer any protest. Yet, Lo’ak knew he got through to you, your expression softening as you let him lower your hands gently to the grass. 

“Look, you chose to save me and my sister when you could have killed us.” He lifted his hand up, his palm grazing it as he took the earpiece out of your ear, his fingers traveling to your neck as he unclipped your telecom.

You froze, your senses wholly attuned to him as your mind could only focus on his voice, calm and slow as he spoke to you, “You told me yourself. You’re not the enemy.” He smirked at you, pressing a finger into your forehead, “Get that through your thick skull, won’t you?” 

You couldn’t help a light laugh as your lips upturned, “I got through yours, so it’s only fair right?”

About to lift your gaze back on the helicopter, you stopped, rolling onto your back instead, relinquishing the ties of who you no longer wanted to be, unwilling even to grant them your eyes as they left you. You felt as if the tether to your father was being severed as the helicopter flew away, its whirring becoming distant and distant until finally, the tranquility of the forest returned as the bioluminescence reawakened around you. The feel of the grass and the air immersed you into that bliss, and no longer focused on the anger and hurt, you only wondered how you endured it for so long, how that tether was able to mark trauma into your skin and bones.

Lo’ak, although confused by your actions held no qualms about joining you, lying down, his eyes only on you the whole time. You turned your head slightly to look at him, and you felt that peace from before, no longer skewed but welcomed by you as you smiled at him, your gratefulness emanating from it. 

Under your gaze, Lo’ak felt himself get shy, getting up quickly to hide the blush that would surely make itself known among the illumination of the flora around you. 

“W-we should uh...look for my dad.” In his awkwardness, he was seemingly unsure, his tone expelling his words like a question.

Lo’ak put a hand out and you took it, “Yeah, Jake and I have a lot to catch up on.”

Once you stood up, you heard bellowing rustles in the distance, and immediately you took your defensive position, taking your knife out. Lo’ak also had his knife out, his back against yours as you both searched your perimeter. The rustling became footsteps, the sound approaching closer and closer until you saw a flash of blue rushing toward you, the lifting of a tomahawk making you dodge immediately.

“Jake I-!” He swung again, your knife barely blocking the weight of his tomahawk as you staggered backward.

“Dad! Stop!” Lo’ak yelled out, and hearing the rest of his family come, Neytiri already drawing her bow, he ran to her, pleading for her to put it down. 

You ducked again as Jake continued to swing, backing away as you put your hands up, “Jake! It’s me! Y/n!” You yelled.

The adrenaline pumping in his veins was too prominent, not allowing him to recognize you as he continued to swing at you, each one more forceful than the last. Neteyam had also drawn his bow, but Tuk clung to his arms, disrupting his attempt at shooting you.

You fought back vigorously and when you had finally knocked the tomahawk out of his hands, you let go of your grip on him, kneeling on the dirt with your hands up as you spoke again, out of breath, “Jake. It’s me, y/n. You have to believe me.”

Blinking, he could finally hear you, your unmistakeable voice warping Jake’s mind, unwilling to accept the possibility, your appearance betraying the very memory of you, splicing who he remembered you to be from the mystery of who was kneeling in front of him.

He put a knife to your neck, his eyes pained as he tried to ignore the memories coming back to him in response to your voice, “You’re not! Y/n’s dead. She’s dead, okay? So, who are you?”

What proof did you have? Even if you showed him those photos, they wouldn’t be enough. All you had were your memories, and as you looked at Jake, so happy to see him again, you reached into your past in hopes that he would remember too.

“You know me, Jake Sully, and you know my father. He’ll stop at nothing to kill you and your family.” Jake gritted his teeth, his knife dipping into your neck more. You became teary-eyed as you continued to speak, but you were fierce in your tone, “Do you remember what I told you before the bulldozers came?” You asked.

“A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.” You looked over at his family, their stares burning into you, “You have a family now, Jake. Let me help you protect them from my father.”

Jake dropped his knife, his mouth parting, the words he had lived by in all the time you were gone breathing life back into you, his eyes no longer looking, but Seeing. Every doubt he had in his mind disappeared into the night air as he said your name, the breath he expelled so soft in the wake of what he felt was another reality. You were alive, and when he had finally accepted that fact, he lifted you up from the ground, pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before.” He said softly, “Blue never really was your color.”

You buried your face in his shoulder as you hugged him back, “Yeah well, it was always yours.” 

You felt tears brim in your eyes as you lifted your head up and you could feel your whole body relax for the first time since you woke up. In the midst of your comfortable silence you suddenly heard him sniffle. You became moon-eyed, pulling back to see that he had tears falling from his eyes too.

You smiled at him, your old joking self returning as you laughed, “I see fatherhood’s turned you into a sap.” You put your hands up to his forehead, “And look at all the wrinkles on your forehead. You’re ancient.”

Scoffing, Jake pushed your hand away, tousling your hair, “You come back from the dead, and you’re still a little shit.”

“Whatever old man. I know you missed me.” You snarkily replied, weakly punching him in the arm.

He scoffed at you, winding his arm to punch you back when his face dropped, noticing your bound wound, “What happened? Did I shoot you?”

Lo’ak piped in, “It was one of the other soldiers. He was trying to kill me, but she took the bullet instead.”

He looked between you and Lo’ak. If there was still any doubt in his mind about who you were, it was easily erased. What you had done for his son directly mirrored what you had done for him all those years ago, every detail so ingrained in him that goosebumps adorned his body as he thought of it. Neytiri, who took her place beside Jake softened her eyes, having felt grateful to you for saving Jake’s life before, and once again for saving her son.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. I’ve already put yanna bark on it. It’ll be better in no time.” You put your hands up, attempting to ease Jake.

He glared at you, “We’re going.” Jake turned to his eldest son, “Neteyam, take y/n back to camp.”

“No! I’ll take her back.” Lo’ak instantly protested, earning a knowing look from Neteyam, “It’s the least I can do after she took the bullet for me.”

“Fine Lo’ak,” His eyes were ensnared with warning, “You fly straight and slow, alright? Don’t be reckless in the air.”

“Yes sir.” Lo’ak answered, although he hardly meant it. 

Everyone called their ikrans, all of them coming in like a swarm and gracefully descending to the forest floor. Jake flew off first, Neytiri, who was holding Tuk, followed after, then Neteyam ascended as well.

Making sure you were secure before taking off, Lo’ak looked over his shoulder at you, “Have you ever been on an ikran before?”

“Never.” You said, suddenly excited, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly, your chest hugging his back, “I don’t care what Jake says, I don’t want to go slow.”

Lo’ak couldn’t control himself as a satisfied grin took over his lips, “Good, ‘cause I wasn’t planning to.”

The minute he kicked off, you felt the exhilaration of being in the air hit you as you flew through the mist of the night, Lo’ak taking extra detours around the mountain, commanding the wind as you felt it underneath you. You had merely felt free before, but as you embraced the touch of the swirling air, infinite and timeless in its beauty, you knew you really were. 

The day had felt excruciatingly long, and you felt so burdened by just being alive, the guilt, the hurt, and the pain encompassing you. But, being in the air with Lo’ak made those burdens feel like mere trivialities, and while you knew in the back of your mind that you would have to face them again, you let yourself feel that freedom you always longed to have and in its simplest form, you understood what it was you were really feeling.

You were happy.

But the thing about happiness is that it can vanish in an instant.

~

Your father was still out there, and having already been motivated to complete this mission by his own disposition, a new rage had sunk into his soul, catalyzing the torment he so desperately had to inflict.

Wainfleet finally admitted to your father what had happened to you, but in his deceitful cowardice, he left out one large truth.

“What did you say Lyle?” Quaritch asked impatiently.

“Sully. He shot her. She’s dead, Colonel.”

—

Author’s Note:

My lovers, 

LYLE WAINFLEET IS A BITCHHH ISN’T HE??? 

let me know how you felt about chapter 1!! i’d love to hear your thoughts :)

endless thanks for all of you who have waited and continue to wait for the next parts! 

for all those that wanted to be tagged for this next part, i’ve listed you all below! thank you so much!!

love, 

nana <3

~

taglist [tumblr wouldn’t let me tag some of the blogs, but i didn’t want to leave anyone out!] :

@fifty-shades-of-mischeif @pretty-npeach @tonni30  @itsemy01 @23victoria @soobinsrose  @starjane312 @valentineoxox @justlillythinking @mae-is-crazy @scarletrosesposts@paniniii @bloodyziggy @mister-police  @mrs-sullys-blog @niiight-dreamerrrr @promiseofeywa  @wilmalovegood @sssspencerrr @mochi-yu @d4rno @lovekeeho @dreama-little-dreamof-me  @strawberryclouds22@tsunchani @sully-stick-together @scarletrosesposts @local-mr-frog @pirana10 @usernumder67 @im-kai-scotty  @mae-is-crazy @ghoulbli @devil-on-acid  @neteyamoa @iamparou @nightfalldia  @a-queen-blr  @aeclark041-blog1@justpassinbxx @mochi-yu @persondoingstuff @melatonindaydreamz @ducks118 @macncheese69420666  @rotten-toenails  @rikidaily  @extreamlycutecuban @iizx7y @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @lovekeeho  @spicycloudsalad @perfectprofessorloverapricot   @kind45  @skyri-revia22@blueblushedflwr  @neteyamslovr  @coldlamaspersonspy @jayinthecloset @lunamochii @littlethingsinlife @ok-boke @donaldsmac @slut4sluttybooks @zatarias-pandora  @bol0-de-morang0  @dakotali  @bajadotcom  @bitchyzombienacho @siriusblackwh0re @wadiyatalkinabeetmate @eggyongies @galaxyfruits @kiricomics @fireflystoughts  @reallysparklychaos @bwormie​ @glitter-in-my-heroin @kirikuki @katkat1918 @0-0h-0 @imthefunniestpersonalive @my-name-duh @mayabritjohn @annoyingstrawberryballoon @sometimesminsan @pearlrosegardener @aestheticcraze @animetrash12 @sbfandom @hrlzy @vhobuu @urforevermore @larkkyoris @usersjs-world @vampsclassiffied @razor-blayde @doromoni @lizzyloo22 @jimfiqs @hunylew @dreamergirljen

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Teacher's Pet

requested?: no pairing(s): teacher!kim mingyu x afab!student!reader genre: smut (literally pure filth), school AU warning(s): implied age gap (read the pairings loves, is mentioned that reader is of age), piv sex, unprotected sex (stay safe ladies and gents), oral (f&m receiving), praise, degradation, size kink, hair pulling, doggy(?), gyu being a thighs man, not proof read, semi-public sex, spanking, lmk if i missed anything:) summary: 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬 word count: 2.7k a/n: i promise i will write a fluff for this cutie😭😭 but here you go for now. this is based off of my bot i made of him, so go wild:). make sure you eat and drink something, stay safe bubsies, love yas, mwah

you had recently broken up with your boyfriend, or rather, he broke up with you. it was safe to say that you were absolutely heartbroken, and you started failing all your classes. one class in particular, that he would never think you would start failing, was mr kim’s biology class.

he was by far the only teacher that noticed that your grades were dropping, since you had put so much effort into his class. so today, you were yelling at someone in the halls, cussing them out. mr kim needed an excuse to talk to you alone, so he gave you a detention for the same night, which was mandatory that you attend.

so you did.

you made your way there straight after last period, and walked to his classroom. teachers had already begun to leave, and it as practically only the two of you left in the building.

“okay, i’m here, what do you want me to do?” you say in a monotone voice, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“first of all, i want you to treat me with a bit of respect,” he said, rolling up the black sleeves of his dress top, he stood up. mr kim was wearing a black thin dress shirt with black dress pants, his shirt very loosely tucked in. he was sat at his desk, but slouched back in his office chair, manspreading, but not much. “and i want to know what is up with you, you have been acting very weird lately and have been failing most of your classes.

he sat up, leaning forwards on his desk, clasping his hands together. his rolled up sleeves were complimenting his well sculpted arms. they were thick and muscly, but veiny at the same time. the veins ran down his arms to his hands where they were scattered like little rivers. you swallowed thickly, and nod.

“sorry sir” you whisper, he nods in response before standing up. he moved around his desk and stood in front of you, perching himself on his desk, you moved backwards. gods, he was tall. at least six foot two. he was still tall perching on his desk like this.

“what’s going on with you, miss kang? you have been failing in almost every subject. i’m getting concerned for you” he says as he takes on of your hands and holds it in his. his hands were cold, much unlike his warm personality. they were so cold you just wanted to take them and hold them against yours to warm them up. he snapped his fingers in front of your face, it snapped you out of the trance you were in.

“sorry” you swallow thickly “just, stuff has been going on” you look up at him, into his eyes.

“like, at home stuff, or stuff here? i can try my hardest to help you know” he speaks softly, putting his other hand on top of the hand he was holding.

“no, just me and my boyfriend have broken up recently, and its been hard, y’know? i just miss him a lot mr kim” you say, tears brimming in your eyes.

he gives you a small sympathetic smile before nodding. he, quite obviously, didn’t know what to do.

“call me mingyu” he lets go of your hands, bringing you to his desk and sits you down on his chair “would you like a drink?” he asks politely. he looks down at your thighs as they grow with your new sitting position.

he swallowed, his adams apple bobbing as he did so. he looked nervous, but you couldn’t tell with his, now stoic, expression.

“no thanks” you smiled, spinning on his chair as he pottered around at his desk, you were a few steps away, looking around with a small smile on your face.

“you sure?” he asked, turning to face you. you nodded, and again, he looked down at your thighs.

“is something wrong, sir?” you ask innocently, looking up at him with doe eyes. he looked up at your face, nodding and turning back to his desk, clicking a few things before logging off of the computer.

you could just about see the veins in his hands moving as he did so, making you rub your thighs together to give you some friction for the growing wetness in between your legs. this didn’t go unnoticed by mingyu, though, as he cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him.

“something the matter, doll?” he asks with a smirk, you shake your head.

there was something wrong. he was gripping the edges of the table, which was making the muscles in his upper arms bulge and his veins show even more in his hands. you needed them to be gripping something else, your ass, your waist, your thighs, your sweet tits. no! he was your teacher, you couldn’t, besides, you had barely just broken up with your boyfriend, you couldn’t do that now.

even if you were technically of age, you couldn’t have sex with him, let alone him being your teacher. you look up at him again, noticing your eyes had wandered down to his dress pants.

“you sure? because it looks like you’re having a little trouble right now. i saw you rubbing your thighs together doll, don’t try to deny it. you want me to fuck you hard? teach you how to suck my big cock in your tiny mouth huh? suck your pretty clit in my mouth, my tongue spreading around you, filling you up huh? you want that?” he asks, kneeling in front of you. you follow his eyes as he moves, looking down at him now. your face flushed a deep shade of red at his words.

you didn’t want to nod, but you could barely stop yourself before you knew what you were doing. your eyes widened as his smirk widened, realizing what you had just admitted.

“want me to fuck you good? better than he ever could? make you cum hard huh? well if you want it so bad then maybe you should come suck me off first doll” he says, standing you up and flipping you both around so you were on your knees in front of him, his legs spread. there was only one thing, you had never sucked someone off a day in your life, so you didn’t know where or how to start.

“uhm, mingyu?” his eyes darkened as you used his name “sir? i’ve never given someone head before” you say shyly, avoiding eye contact with him. he pulls your chin up to look at him.

“then i guess i’ll have to teach you, doll” he gives you a small sadistic smile, “first you gotta take my pants off, go on doll, you can do that surely?” he asks, guiding your hand to the zipper of his dress pants, guiding you in unzipping it. he moved his hips upwards to allow you to take his pants off fully, before settling himself back down.

his thighs were spread in front of you, showing you his large hardened cock. you stared at it with a panicked expression.

“have you never had sex, doll?” he chuckles.

“no, i have” you protest “you’re just so… big. none of my exes were as big as you” you admit quietly, he pulls your hair to look up at him.

“aw, jagi” he says sweetly “you can take it, i know you can. i believe in you” he says before moving his hand to your mouth, using two of his fingers to pry open your mouth.

he let your tongue swirl his fingers before tutting quietly and taking his fingers out. “such a good girl f’me, hm?” he says before taking your hair in his hands, putting it up into a ponytail.

“you need to open your mouth wide, like this” he mimics opening his mouth wide, you copy his actions “good girl. now you need to take my cock” he lets your hand take his dick “and now put your mouth around it” you do as he says, taking his dick in your mouth and sucking on it gently.

he groans and throws his head back onto the back of his chair, his mouth falling open. you gag as he hits the back of your throat, your nose tickling his happy trail as you take all of him in your mouth, you grasp his thighs as you do so.

“that’s it, atta girl” he groans out, shoving your head further down onto him. you bob your head on his dick, sucking him and gagging every once and a while. “oh yeah, just like that” he groans, enjoying the way your throat contracts around him. you start to feel him twitch in your mouth, his groans getting more frantic. “i’m close doll, you think you can swallow my cum in your tiny little throat? yeah?” you nod on his dick.

not long later, he spills his cum into the back of your throat. you swallow, and he pulls your mouth off of him, pulling you up and opening your mouth with his two fingers, making sure you had swallowed. when he knew you had, he nodded to himself.

“good girl, doll” he husks “i think it’s your turn now, hm?” he asks.

you look up at him with your innocent doe eyes again, curiously, asking what he had meant.

“m’ gonna keep my promise and suck your clit, if you promise to be quiet for me, doll” you nod frantically in response. he chuckles and lifts you up, spinning you around and sitting you down on his office chair.

he pulls down your tights, taking your skirt and panties with them. he smirks upon seeing your soaked panties and then your soaked pussy.

“wow, doll, so wet for me already? who would’ve known I have this much of an effect on you, huh? is this what you’re like in the middle of my lessons when you’re staring at my hands, wishing that they were stuffed inside this pretty little pussy of yours? bet your boyfriend didn’t make you cum as well as i will, was he bad at fingering you huh? just needed me to fill you up?”

he pulls your shirt off, as well as your tie, throwing them somewhere to the ground, but keeping your tie. he manages to unclasp your bra in record timing, throwing it with all of your discarded clothing. he massages one of your tits as he slowly kisses down your body, stopping as he reaches your pussy and looking up at you.

he smiles as he places a small kiss to your clit, making your hips buck towards him, leaving shivers as he did so. he smirked as he dove into your pussy, lapping up all of your juices and flattening his tongue against you, all the while he kept his eyes on you, memorizing all the faces you made as you tried to hold your moans and whimpers in.

he sucked on your clit harshly, making you almost yelp as he did so, but he was quick to cover your mouth. glaring up at you, he continued to suck at your clit and thrust his tongue into your pussy repeatedly. sounds of your pussy and its wetness bounced off of the walls and back to your ears, making you impossibly more turned on.

you felt the familiar knot in your stomach tighten with one particularly harsh kitten lick to your clit.

“m’ gonna cum sir” you almost moan out, but its muffled by his hand, he nods against you, your hands fly to his hair as you got thrown over the edge, feeling nothing but immense pleasure as you came against his mouth.

he tried his hardest to clean up all of you, licking a stripe up your slit when he was done, swallowing you, savouring the taste of you on his tongue. he stood back up, towering over you. he stood you up against him. you felt his hardness against you again.

mingyu pulled you close and kissed you deeply, making sure you could taste yourself on his tongue. he slipped his tongue into your mouth, you tugged at his shirt. he unbuttoned it and threw it to the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes, revealing his toned chest and abs. he turned you both around so that you were being held against his desk.

he pulled away from the kiss and spun you around, bending you over his desk. he slapped your ass harshly, one after another.

“you’ve been such a naughty girl, failing my class because of a stupid pathetic little boy like him. how big was his dick doll? mine bigger?” you nod, he pulls your hair “words, you whore, or i’ll force them out of you when i’m fucking you so good you’ll be screaming my name so loud that the whole school, or whose left here, will know how good i’m fucking you, and i know for a fact that your little ex has a detention tonight, so maybe he’ll hear, is that what you want? hm?” he practically growls

“m' sorry sir, won’t happen again, i swear” you whimper.

“good, now, you gonna be a good girl and take all of my cock inside that tiny little pussy of yours, or am i gonna have to punish you?” he says in your ear, letting go of your hair.

“no sir, i’ll be good, I promise”

“good”

he wasted no time in pushing inside of you, your ass on full display for him as he fucked into your tight pussy, you both let out sounds of pleasure as he pushed inside of you. he gave you time to adjust before he started slamming into you without warning. he held your hands behind your back and held them there with his right hand, his hips pistoling into you.

he held you down with all of his might, the only sound was his hips hitting against yours and the sound of your wetness taking him oh so sinfully, but so well.

“fuck- so tight” he groans “he really didn’t fill you up well, did he? have to fake an orgasm as well doll? you won’t have to do that now, you have me, and we won’t stop until your begging me to, okay?”

“yes sir” you moan out sinfully, but to him, it sounded like heaven.

he grabs a fistful of your hair before pulling it back so you were looking forwards, towards the door of the classroom. he never slowed his thrusts as you moaned out that you were about to come, if anything, he spread up, wanting you to cream around his cock.

“gonna have to keep fucking you like this if you want to keep a good grade, jagi” he groans out.

a white ring formed at the base of his dick, his balls slapping against your ass as you came had for the second time that night. you saw white as you came down from your high, ears ringing. you felt nothing but pure bliss as mingyu kept thrusting inside of you, eventually emptying his load inside if you.

not long later, he pulled out and got himself redressed before holding you up and helping you get dressed. he left a kiss on each of your thighs as he pulled your tights back up.

you said your goodbyes, and to were about to leave until you asked him something.

“sir?” you turned back around, he looked up from his desk and smiled at you

“mingyu” he corrected

“right, mingyu. how did you know my ex had a detention today?” you ask with your signature doe eyes

“i gave it to him. i knew you both had broken up, and i was picking out everything he had done until i found a reason to give him it” he smiled innocently, you nod

“what did you make him do?” you ask after a while

“helping miss hwang redecorate her classroom” he smiled.

you couldn’t help but snicker, miss hwang was the most boring teacher in the whole school, everyone knew that. you turned around and were about to leave when:

“so you knew the whole time?” you turn back around “why did you ask me to come then?"

"just wanted to fuck you” he says, placing a hand on your waist “maybe we can do it again sometime?”

“sure, why not?”