#renjun scenarios | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lattaeyongs · 10 months

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the trojan horse (hrj)

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↳ pairing: huang renjun x reader

↳ word count: 19.6k

↳ genre: royalty!au, historical (late 1700s)!au, arranged marriage!au, heavy angst, fluff, smut

↳ summary: in which the boy you fall in love with isn’t who you think he is.

↳ warnings: character death, political unrest, violence, nudity, explicit sexual content (oral, penetration, switch!renjun, switch!reader, cum play), may contain historical inaccuracies

↳ a/n: influenced heavily by the events of the french revolution.

1791

Ominously, the large, mahogany doors of the Royal Court open. Two guards tightly grip the arms of a shadow, and as the three slowly approach the center of the room, you realize it is a middle-aged, disheveled, pitiful-looking man who wouldn’t put up much of a fight against the guards anyway.

Across a large table sit the Members of the Royal Court. They include some barons and earls, along with religious leaders. Your father, the King, sits at the center, looking especially royal in his brand-new purple robes, and you sit by his side, your fingers intertwined together neatly.

“Order!” Your father announces loudly to the Court. The barons and lords’ chatters die, and the room is silent.

“Name?” Asks the King.

“Kim Donghyun,” the man says. He is practically just skin and bones, and it makes you think about how you’ve never gone a day without having three exquisite meals.

You guiltily avoid his gaze; he doesn’t notice. His attention is toward the King. Due to the days of sitting in a dungeon in utter darkness waiting for his trial and sentencing, he has to blink a few times to get adjusted to the bright light in the Court.

“What is your crime?”

Kim Donghyun takes a deep breath. You observe him intently, and you notice how he is practically quaking in fear at being in front of the King. The only time a peasant like him would ever be graced with the presence of the King is when it is nothing good at all.

Being tried in front of the Royal Court constitutes as ‘nothing good at all.’

“Theft,” he says in a small voice. At his fear, the King looks at him in disdain. Kim Donghyun knows that his time is limited, and he won’t die without a shred of dignity.

He raises his voice. “I did it for my family.”

“Only describe the crime,” the King interjects.

“I work in the farming district. In an apple orchard. Instead of turning over all the apples I collected to the cart that takes it to distribution centers, I kept some hidden in my home.”

The King turns to look at the rest of the Court and discusses quietly, avoiding your gaze. You’re able to make out some words, such as ‘sin’ and ‘infestation of the poor,’ but you don’t interact. Of course, he ignores you, as if you don’t have an opinion. As the only woman on the Court, you were only there after you convinced (more like begged) your father. Deciding a man’s fate wasn’t apt work for a royal woman, whose responsibilities lie in producing a legitimate, male heir for the Kingdom after your father chooses your husband, who is the next in line to the throne – not you, who is your father’s own flesh blood and has a right to the throne. You told your father that Queen Elizabeth I more almost three hundred years ago took the throne of England and ruled through a golden age, dismantling your father’s claim that women weren’t fit to rule, but your father argued that was why England didn’t have a direct, legitimate heir, and why England fell into turmoil after Queen Elizabeth’s death in 1603.

“There is only one suitable punishment for thieves,” The King says in a sure, kingly voice. You gulp harshly. You knew the next words that would come out of his mouth, after sitting in the Royal Court’s proceedings, which all practically ended the same way, no matter how big or small the offense is. He doles out this punishment like it’s nothing. There used to be other punishments for thieves such as cutting off their hands, but the only places those punishments are described in history books.

“Death by The Dragon’s Fang!” Your father declares. Through the ornately decorated window, you see the chopping block where executions take place. The Dragon’s Fang, the family sword that has been an important symbol of Justice in your Kingdom, cuts cleanly across the neck of whoever has done the Kingdom of Ambrosia wrong. Sharpened every day by the Executioner, it never gives anything but a decisive end to someone’s life.

“Please,” the man pleads. The chains around his wrists rattle as he folds his hands together tightly in desperation. The two guards accompanying him hold him even tighter, creating small impressions on his skinny body, but your father gestures for them to let go of Kim Donghyun. He falls to his knees, tears forming at the rims of his eyes.

You’ve sat through hundreds of proceedings, and every single one of them rips a new hole in your heart.

“I never intended to steal,” he explains. “My family, we’re starving. Starving!” He screams in anguish. The guards come closer to him but do not hold him like they once did; desperate this man is, but not desperate enough to run.

“It’s no excuse,” the King says firmly.

“I had to do it. Come to the farming district yourself! We’re all suffering before dying of starvation and disease. Reeking dead bodies are everywhere and we have no medicine and no food! How are we supposed to live?”

At his anguished voice, you decide that you’re not going to let this be yet another proceeding that you will watch and do nothing about the result. After all, this is supposed to be your kingdom in the future, not your future husbands, even though it doesn’t seem like that.

“He’s right,” you say. Stunned gasps echo through the room. Not a single member of the Royal Court has second-guessed any of the King’s decisions. But you do not let that affect the firmness in your voice.

“How are the working class supposed to serve us if we cannot give them enough resources to live?” You spin it another way. You don’t truly mean what you say, only giving the situation in this light in order for your father to understand; he only understands when things affect him; the rest of the Court are the same way, almost medically unable to expand their cold, selfish hearts to show a little compassion.

“If we show mercy to this one man,” your father says patiently, “then others will start doing the same thing. We need to make an example of the misdeeds of this man, to prevent further law-breaking.” Your father knows of your compassion for others, an un-queenly trait that he thinks you will outgrow when you get a little more experience with royal affairs, the only reason why he let you take part in the proceedings of the Royal Court. Being that you’re only a child, twenty years old, you have not the same maturity as a seasoned King. But to you, it’s not just a phase.

Whatever happened to the great leaders of yesteryear who knew when to show compassion and when to rule with an iron fist? Your father’s ruthless punishments are what earned him the title of ‘The Mad King’ by the commoners, according to the King’s spies (aptly called his ‘Ears’) everywhere. It is even rumored that the Resistance, an organization whose goal is to destroy the royal family, is real. After hearing about the American Revolution and the Revolution in France, common people hold out hope for a democracy, where everyone’s voices are heard. The writings of Thomas Paine and John Locke started circulating in the Kingdom of Ambrosia and have stirred up more political unrest than what could be imagined.

Your father afterward made it his mission to find every copy of Common Sense and Two Treatises of Government and burn them, as well as execute anyone with a physical copy of those books. He could not have that sort of insolence from his subjects. However, that did nothing; the words were still in peoples’ minds, spreading to others orally, and who knows how many illegitimate copies there are, the words printed on cloth or in their minds? This made people want to get bootlegged copies even more. If the commoners had enough food on the table and compassionate leaders, then their cries for revolution are quieter. If the Gods chose you to be a ruler, then that means that the Gods see leadership potential in your lineage, and you should follow that.

“I’m not saying to spare Kim Donghyun any punishment,” you explain cooly with your hands in your lap in a lady-like fashion, just as your governess taught you when you were little. “There are other means of punishment which will get the point across.”

“Other means of punishment?” Your father echoes in a tone that makes you feel small. “Stealing is a sin and sins are punishable by death.”

“Can’t he get a whipping? I’m sure that he learned his lesson. He’s frightened to death and needs to feed his –”

“Quiet, girl!” The King declares. Instantly, you feel your father’s palm connect with your cheek, and a stinging sensation burns your skin. This immediately makes your tear ducts tingle with the need to let hot tears roll down your cheeks, but you will not let the Royal Court see you as a little girl being chastised by her father.

You are a young woman and one that is to be the future queen at that.

At the way you take a painful slap, Kim Donghyun meets your gaze with a resigned, yet thankful look at your efforts. He already knows that in a few short minutes, his blood will be pooling on the floor in the adjacent room.

“The Royal Court here rules that Kim Donghyun is sentenced to death by the Dragon’s Fang.” He bangs the gavel against the table loudly, glancing at you before locking gazes with Kim Donghyun. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t scream. He knew he took a massive risk with those apples. He only wished that he stole more because the look of satisfaction when his wife and children ate was intoxicating.

The two guards grab Kim Donghyun’s elbows before escorting them out of the Royal Court and into the next room. The window gives a clear view of the large chopping block stained with dry, brown blood where Kim Donghyun is supposed to lean, his knees on the floor, his neck and the edge of the block lining up. Then, the Executioner takes the Dragon’s Fang and raises it above his head. He doesn’t close his eyes at the sight he is about to see, a ritual he has performed thousands of times, only asking the victim for any last words, as you can tell from seeing this proceeding many times. Kim Donghyun says something, but you are not sure what. Then, the Executioner swings the sword, and Kim Donghyun crumbles to the ground in two parts after a sickening crunch (that you’ve heard so many times, it echoes in your head).

You think you’re going to be sick.

Just like there were many court proceedings before the trial of Kim Donghyun, there are many afterward. The Resistance is growing larger, according to the King’s Ears, and is ready to plan something large. Normally, your father would not tolerate this insolence against the royal family. He would have liked to nip it in the bud and hang the bodies of all the rebels in front of the streets to make an example out of them, but the King is running into a huge problem: he is close to bankruptcy. He barely has enough resources to pay guards and mercenaries to protect the current palace, as well as cooks and maids and servants. He doesn’t have enough resources to pay for a large army and create a special task force to get rid of the rebels. After spending his money on clothes and shoes, brand new wings of the palace and concubines, he was spending money faster than he was receiving it.

Obviously, you knew that this was a serious problem, and it was information that select people had access to; Royal advisors were trying their best to make sure that this information was kept under a tight lid and wouldn’t find its way to the Resistance. Royal advisors suggested that the King find a source of needed materials without raising taxes yet again, and that’s where you come to play. Your father arranged for you to meet a suitor to set up a much-needed marriage alliance.

Today, you would be meeting the Prince of Neo, Huang Renjun. Neo is a small kingdom a few days journey from you by the sea, and they are known for their ample craftsman class who commission some of the finest weapons. They are also a source of skilled fighters, and they will be more likely to ship off their people and provide resources to Ambrosia if they have a suitable marriage alliance.

As much as you hated being auctioned off like an antique vase, it was something that couldn’t be helped as a royal woman. You only hope that this Huang Renjun isn’t like the other suitors you have met, who are snooty and stuck up, ruthless as if they are miniature versions of your father. More importantly, you wish that they won’t cast you aside, using you as a pawn to get their hands on the better prize, the Kingdom of Ambrosia, the largest kingdom in the area.

There’s already tension in the air when you are escorted by your mother and lady’s maids into the drawing room where you first lay eyes on Huang Renjun.

His raven-colored hair is neatly gelled and combed, and his skin is pale in contrast. He stands up politely at your presence, and you get a good look at his clothing: rich, exactly what you expect for a royal from another kingdom. He wears red robes with delicate, intricate yellow designs, and you suspect the material is velvet. He has white frills at his neck, and milky white socks that compliment the black shoes at his feet, which have a gold flower at the center of the foot to match the gold designs on his robes.

You’re thankful that the suitor you’re meeting is actually in the same age range as you, but it’s an additional bonus that he’s one of the most beautiful men you’ve met without even trying.

He is also observing you with the same tenacity as you do with him: You’re wearing a crown of pink flowers on your head, which matches the pink flowers on your sky-blue dress. Your skirt is large and trails at your behind, which shows your royal standing, and the sky-blue sleeves of your dress slowly become white lace as his eyes follow from your shoulders to your wrists. The sleeves of your dress are cone-like, and the edges are able to reach your knees.

For a few seconds, you meet Renjun’s gaze. His eyes are a beautiful dark brown, and they offer you a friendly look, which puts your heart at slight ease.

“Princess Y/N, this is Prince Renjun of Neo,” your mother introduces in a voice that makes it seem like she has known Prince Renjun for a long time (which she hasn’t).

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your Highness,” Renjun says. His voice is absolutely magnificent, song-like, and dreamy. He steps forward and bends down on one knee, taking your right hand and kissing the back of it.

His lips feel warm against your skin.

There are a few other men by Renjun’s side. There are his personal guards, who came with him on the carriage ride from his castle to yours, and another man in fine clothing, someone you failed to notice due to your observant study of Huang Renjun.

“And this is the King of Neo,” your mother continues, gesturing. He bows down and takes the time to bend down and kiss your mother’s hand (which has her bubbling with pleasant words) and your hand, which you give a curt greeting. His black robe shuffles as he steps back, and you study Renjun side-by-side with his father.

“Pleased to meet you, Your Highnesses,” he says.

A few maids come in bearing silver trays piled with bite-sized sandwiches, in the shape of a pyramid. You and your mother take one, while Renjun and his father take one each, all four of you being overly courteous to the help in an effort to keep appearances.

“Your daughter looks like a lovely young lady, perfect for my Renjun,” the King of Neo comments, giving your mother a gracious smile. “So elegant and full of grace, she will make a fine queen and wife, Your Highness,” he addresses your mother.

“Thank you for your kind words,” Your mother responds back, her eyes crinkling as a part of her practiced genuine smile. “May I escort you to the King? He has some matters that he would like to discuss with you.”

“Of course, my good lady,” the King of Neo responds back courteously. Your mother leads the way out of the room, and a few maids look like they are going to follow her, to make sure that she is okay, but she only needs to give a flick of her wrist for them to disperse back into the drawing room. Now, you and Renjun are alone, except for the help, but they don’t count. You’re grateful that your mother has left you both alone because you absolutely hate being chaperoned during meets with suitors – it makes you more nervous having that extra company. That just shows how important this alliance is for the Kingdom that your mother understands your weakness and tries to put you on the best possible foot to make a good performance for Huang Renjun.

Performance. The word has the connotation relating it to a game, which is what this whole suitor business is.

“Please have a seat,” you say to Renjun, gesturing at the plush pink-and-green sofa that he abandoned when you entered the room. There is a small ottoman opposite of the sofa, and there is a glass table in between with the pyramid of sandwiches that the maid brought a few minutes ago. You’re ready to bring up something about the weather and other practiced lines you have prepared for occasions like this when something catches your eye on the table, a leather-bound book. It is a copy of The Oresteia by Aeschylus. You remember reading it back when you were still taught by a governess.

“Excellent choice,” you start off, gesturing to the volume on the table.

Renjun smiles at you, a pretty sight just as beautiful as his voice.

“Thank you. You have a wonderful library, larger than the one I have at home,” he says in awe. The library room is in the next room, and it is dark and paneled with fine wood; it would not be a good choice to meet a suitor, for it is a major turn-off if a woman is too well-educated, enough that she would love books more than making an heir for the family.

Personally, the library room is your favorite room in the house.

“You don’t have Oresteia in your library?”

“No,” Renjun says sheepishly. “It’s been on my list of books to read for a long time, but I just haven’t had the chance to get a copy with all the suitors my father forc–” Renjun suddenly stops, realizing who he is talking to. His face turns into a bright beet red, thinking that he has messed up more than he ever thought he could.

Your face doesn’t shrivel with offense the way Renjun thought it would. He met a royal woman once who after he said he didn’t like blueberry scones, escorted him out of her castle. Instead, he is greeted by a smile. You experienced the same feeling.

“It’s okay,” you say lightly. “I wasn’t exactly that happy to meet you too.” You’re glad that your mother isn’t chaperoning, or anyone in your Court is either because hearing those words from your mouth would earn you a slap across your face. ‘A lady isn’t supposed to tell someone what she thinks,’ you can hear your mother’s and governess’ voices ringing in your ears (they practically had the same voice… all high-class women had a high pitch, sultry yet innocent voice).

Renjun finds your words refreshing; this is the first time he’s met a royal who actually says what she thinks, and that sort of directness is what he craves in someone – he hates having to analyze every little word in a woman’s sentence in order to find out what she truly means.

“How far are you?” You ask.

“Not very,” Renjun sighs. “I wished you came later so I would have had more time to read.” You titter a little, and Renjun is glad that he is able to see a real, genuine smile from you.

“But Clytemnestra has just killed King Agamemnon and Cassandra.” You nod, remembering yourself all those years ago holding this same volume. You’re trying to think of something to say that will contribute to the conversation when Renjun’s voice becomes lower.

“Do you think he deserved it?”

Initially, you’re not sure if you should answer the question. On one hand, you do want to answer the question because you can’t believe that you have a suitor who wants to intelligently discuss literature with you, a complete dream that you can’t believe is happening in real life, but there is another part of you that wants to follow your mother’s advice she gave you a long time ago when it came to meeting suitors: to not let him know too much about your opinions too early.

“I apologize,” Renjun says hesitantly. He just broke all rules when it comes to meeting suitors. He is also not supposed to ask questions like these. Questions like “what are your favorite sweets?” or “what is your favorite city?” are more appropriate for someone you just met.

“You don’t have to,” you say more confidently. “I think I understand Clytemnestra’s fury. Imagine finding out that your daughter was sacrificed so that your husband can help his brother get his wife back. There’s a line that has to be drawn between your family and someone else’s family, and Agamemnon failed to do so. Menelaus had other allies from various kingdoms that could help him, and Agamemnon could help in other ways than sacrificing his eldest daughter to Artemis. But Iphigenia only had Agamemnon. She was his daughter. He was supposed to protect her. He wasn’t supposed to auction her off to her death. So he must pay with his life,” you explain rationally.

Renjun is pretty sure that you’re not only talking about Oresteia anymore. And he’s right. Maybe you feel a little like Iphigenia, but the free will that you are sacrificing is for the good of your kingdom and not someone else’s.

After your father overspent his money, even after charging ridiculously high tax rates and has no means to quell the Resistance by force.

The way you passionately discussed literature was endearing to Renjun. He didn’t want to be stuck with a bimbo for the rest of his life, who was only interested in parties and pleasure. You have substance.

The two of you continue to discuss other Ancient Greek literature since much of the literature includes myths that are implicitly referenced in other works that people in those days would have understood. The conversation is entertaining, and you freely give your opinion and Renjun does the same, and you appreciate the candidness more than anything in the world.

“I’m glad for one thing,” you say during the conversation.

Renjun raises an eyebrow.

“That the Greek Gods don’t meddle in our lives.”

Sometimes, just sitting around in the castle got boring – no, a lot of times, just sitting around in the castle got boring. You didn’t have much of a say in the Royal Court and you didn’t have much of a say in royal decision-making either, so you decided a few years ago that there would be something that you would have control over.

Every weekend, you went into the cities of your Kingdom and practiced healing with the royal healer. A maximum of four people knew about this, and you wanted to keep it that way because if your family found out about this arrangement, they would serve your head on a platter. But so far, no one unnecessary knew about this. The royal healer, the cart driver, and your head maid were the only people who knew. It was your way to give back to the kingdom since so many were dying of diseases or were injured and lamed forever, and these tragedies could be avoided if there was a better spread of healthcare across the kingdom.

Your head maid has clothes prepared for you, a maid’s outfit that you go into town wearing. With how the people feel about the royal family now that the Resistance is trying to spread their message, it was better if your deeds went unsaid; you didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention to yourself, or else the people in your care could get hurt.

So here you are, sitting in a prepared cart filled with medicine, along with the royal healer. The hot late-summer sun burns your shoulders as you sit, but you’re glad you’re only wearing a maid’s outfit and not the eight different skirts you have to wear all day as a royal; wearing all that clothing in this heat is the definition of hell on Earth.

Maybe you’re being dramatic when you say that because when you see the capital city, Ciel, it certainly looks like hell on Earth. A little part of you is glad that you’re safely tucked away in your castle in the countryside because you’re not sure you could ever bear calling what is now Ciel, home. Sick people decorate the well-trodden streets, orphaned children scour waste for food, wails of anguish fill the air as people cry over the dead, and the stench – oh, the stench! How pungent and repelling it is, you almost want to gag. Thankfully, you have a flower from the royal gardens tied to your wrist, and you harshly press the flower against your nose, breathing in the fresh scent.

But the saddest thing on the street is the people who are wholly unaffected by all the events happening. They are residents no doubt, with tattered, stained breeches that have probably never seen a wash, but the resigned look on their faces is what breaks your heart into a thousand more pieces. They accept that this is how life is going to be. These people are usually able to hide among the crowds of people, but to you they stick out like a sore thumb.

Speaking of people, there seems to be less than there was last week. Everything seems a tad quieter, and people don’t seem to be sporting angry, belligerent looks on their faces against the royals, just the resigned, sick, and anguished seem left.

But this doesn’t stop you from setting up shop. With the royal healer Doyoung, you both find an abandoned building – a building that you have kept under a different name using some royal funds you’re able to get out of your father’s hands – and set up medicines, table cloths, bandages, and other tools needed to properly heal the masses. After seeing your appearances, people start coming in. It was an unspoken thing with the people of Ciel, the most poverty-stricken people in your kingdom, living in shanty towns because the capital is where all the work is. It spread around to others that a healer and his assistant would come every week to try to relieve them. They didn’t know anything about the healer or the assistant, or why they only came once a week (many people have requested that you and Doyoung make your presence known more often), but you would simply sigh and shrug your shoulders, that you could only ever manage once a week. In your heart, you knew that your family wouldn’t notice you gone for at least six hours in a day, but if you tried six hours in two days, that’s asking for problems. Although, you never say that.

However, you and Doyoung have trained others in town who want to heal some basic hygiene and herbs that can be found around Ciel, such as poppy seeds for sleeping and ginseng for preventing inflammation of wounds (but sometimes a cure-all for desperate people). However, due to how populated Ciel is, it’s hard to find even find these plants since medicinal plants need care to grow. They aren’t like dandelions that can grow among the trash and ruin. Which is why you and Doyoung bring a decent stock of other plants from the royal medical gardens and teach others how to store them. But even still, basic training and plant stocks are not enough to keep people alive, and many times, you need a trained medical opinion or experience.

As some patients take rest on the blankets that are scattered in this makeshift hospital, other helpers (practically employees) come in as well.

The first to come is the brother-sister pair, Soobong and Sooyoung. They were always the most punctual, and they live for healing and helping others – with enough medical training, they were good enough to work at the castle.

“Good, you’re here,” Doyoung says brusquely. “More and more people are coming. Sooyoung, ask patients what their ailments are, and Soobong and Y/N, help me unload the stock.” Doyoung commands confidently.

Kim Doyoung had been at this for a long time, as you notice through his weathered, experienced face. He’s been doing this before you knew about it, and when you caught him, you told him that you would join him or you would tell the King, and he gladly took the former option. Doyoung himself grew up on the streets of Ciel, orphaned, but he met a man who helped him learn the art of healing, and he became a revered healer in Ciel before going to the castle. As much as he loved being generous, most of the people who came to him had no money but were only able to exchange favors. He gladly accepted favors – fresh honey, a wonderful story, a beautiful flower, but he also liked recieving a salary.

Still, it doesn’t seem like the streets of Ciel were angry with him for wanting to get paid for his skill; they were only thankful that he was generous enough to continue sharing it with them after all these years.

As Sooyoung socializes with the patients, she is courteous as she asks about their ailments. She can take fifty people’s troubles and tell you every single one – she just has that sort of memory. She would write down all the conditions if she knew how to read or write; only now have you taught her how to count, so that she can refer to each patient as ‘patient at blanket number x’ so it is a more efficient way of describing them.

You and Soobong along with Doyoung are going out to the cart and bringing in jars and wrapped packages of medicinal herbs, from marigold to milk thistle to goldenseal.

When the last of this week’s stock is brought in, Sooyoung approaches you and tells you what conditions people have today.

“The man at blanket thirty is suffering from diarrhea and his wife is very worried about him,” she reports, ending her interactions with all the patients. All of these conditions you’re too familiar with after years of healing. Diarrhea from eating contaminated meat. Cholera from drinking contaminated water. Itchy skin due to a poor personal hygiene regiment. Infection after a metal bucket scraped skin. Sleeplessness after the violent death of a loved one. All of these conditions, you were able to easily escape due to your high status. And you were the one with the best healthcare in the Kingdom after you rarely did anything. When was the last time you picked up a bucket? Or had itchy skin? You live such a good life that half the time, you didn’t need a healer.

But these people do. And they don’t have a healer.

You, Soobong, and Doyoung crush some marigold leaves for the man with the infection, valerian for the sleepless woman and others, handing the paste to Sooyoung who would administer the herbs to the patients. Thankfully, as more and more sick people came in, more and more help was arriving, including Na Jaemin.

He and a few others were bringing injured-looking people. You rushed to their sides, helping them out after abandoning the leaves you were crushing. Before Soobong could do anything, Doyoung ordered him to stay and that you and Jaemin were taking care of whatever needed taking care of.

“What happened?” You gasped, carrying the people to empty blankets. Jaemin follows you, carrying a heavy-looking older man.

“T-There was a riot,” Jaemin says breathlessly.

“A riot?” You echo dumbly. Jaemin nods.

“The Carcel,” he says as if he explained the whole story. At your confusion, though, he continues.

“There was a storming. Weapons were stolen, and the place was trashed before it started burning.” Your blood runs cold.

The Carcel has served as a fortress, armory, and political prison for as long as you can remember. Erected by your great-great-grandfather to protect the castle – the old castle that your family used to reside in before picking a different, more luxurious location in the countryside that gave plenty of room to expand; that castle burned in an earlier, angry riot. Now it looked eerie in the capital, and it was moderately reconstructed as an armory and a prison for prisoners that your father decided not to kill on the spot before his killing spree started.

Knowing this information, Ambrosia was teetering closer and closer to ruin. You gulp. You thought that if your father gave more freedoms to the people and modernized, there would be a higher chance that you would still be in power for generations to come, or at least… your lives. Now, that hope is all gone. People are angry, and they won’t stop until the Royal Family is gone for good. You know what that means. The people won’t rest until your heads are hacked off by the Dragon’s Fang.

“A-And these are,” you take a deep breath. “Insurrectionists?” You ask. No matter how much sympathy you had to the people of Ambrosia who have been wronged by the royal family, you still feel a chill crawl down your spine

You wonder how Soobong, Sooyoung, and Jaemin would react if they knew your true identity – or anyone in this room except Doyoung knew.

“Not all of them. Some of them were just caught in the crossfire.”

“What were you doing there?” You ask accusingly. You bite your lip in shame, hating how transparent you seem. Jaemin looks at you with a brow raised. For all he knew, you were just Y/N, a maid to a nobleman who knew Doyoung as a child on the streets of Ciel.

Immediately, you clear your throat. “It could have been dangerous. Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask with concern, taking his bare forearms in your hand to inspect. You furrow your brows at a fresh-looking mark, but it’s just a smudge of red dirt.

Jaemin smiles. “No. Clean as I’ll ever be.” He chuckled in a hearty way that put all your worries at rest. He continues. “And I was there because my cousin was there. I didn’t want him doing anything stupid, but he wouldn’t listen to me, so I went to watch him.” His expression hardens. “Where his stupidity took him,” he grunts, pointing to another boy carrying a younger boy, maybe fifteen years old, to a bed, with bleeding on his arms and his leg twisted.

“Jaemin!” A voice shouts. You and Jaemin whip your heads to see Doyoung, still crushing leaves into paste and squeezing the juice out of roots. “I need some help over here. Y/N, work with Sooyoung to get the ailments of the newcomers.”

“Yes, Doyoung,” you say and shuffle away. To Doyoung’s perceptive eye, he could see slight cuts on your fingers from all the crushing, and he couldn’t possibly return you home like that. So, he gave you a less taxing job. It was a shame though – you were one of his most skilled apprentices.

Sooyoung takes care of half of the newcomers while you take care of the other half. As you ask them what is ailing them and inspect their injuries, you can already see yourself writing a mental list of needed herbs: marigold, garlic, echinacea, aloe vera, poppy seeds. All of these were anti-inflammatory plants with poppy seeds bringing patients to sleep to help cure their wounds.

But there is a face, an unmistakable face attached to a body that is sitting on a blanket. Despite the contusions on his face and body, as well as his twisted leg at an odd angle, the boy sitting at blanket number thirty-seven is Huang Renjun, Prince of Neo.

As shock finds its way to settle into your face, so does suspicion. What was Huang Renjun doing in a rebellion against the King of Ambrosia?

Every part of your royal instincts tells you to tread carefully. If Huang Renjun is an enemy, then it’s best to keep that information to yourself so you can give yourself an advantage.

Before you can decide whether you should pretend you don’t know him or acknowledge his existence, Renjun speaks first.

“Y/N,” he says softly. You look around. Soobong, Jaemin, Sooyoung, and Doyoung all look preoccupied, and the others that you know are hurriedly applying salves to injured people or offering them edible medicine. You didn’t want to explain how you knew this stranger.

Renjun, like you, is dressed in a commoner’s clothes. He wears a casual set of commoner’s breeches and a faded, light-blue shirt. He has a brown hat next to him that smells oily and full of sweat, and his jet-black hair is disheveled, compared to when you met him. Renjun has been staying at the castle, and your father and his father are trying to strike a favorable deal when it comes to providing an army to quash the Resistance. During the past two days, from what you can hear behind the door, it is a long deal, with both men throwing numbers and getting others to write a contract of this agreement. Renjun has been sitting in the negotiations, to learn the art of negotiation, but you aren’t allowed to sit in. And when they aren’t negotiating, the three of them go hunting together, for your father to get to know the man that will marry his daughter and take over his kingdom. So, you haven’t seen the boy ever since you talked about Aeschylus and other Greek authors and myths together, only seeing him in passing at dinner, which you are almost always joined by the Huangs. Other invitees at dinner seem interested in this stranger, leaving almost no more time for you to know him.

At this moment, your chemistry is undeniable.

“What are you doing here?” You blurt out.

Renjun smiles in pain. “I’m injured obviously. But I could also ask the same for you.” He eyes you in your maid’s outfit.

“I mean, what were you doing at the Carcel?” You inquire. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You see him reach for something, and you tense up. Your instinct thought it was a knife, a plan to kill the Princess of Ambrosia since he is the only one in this crowded room who knows your true identity.

The object Renjun was reaching for was his dirty messenger bag, and he struggles to open the latch. You take the bag and look inside. Paints, and a smeared painting of roses. You’re not sure if it’s red paint or blood.

“I was painting at the Square.” He says simply. The town square is still a bustling place, in viewing distance to the Carcel, cobblestoned and filled with a rose garden that is sometimes known as the envy of the land, the only place in Ciel that doesn’t look hopeless thanks to various people in the area who consider those roses a part of Ciel’s character. It’s the only greenspace in the center of Ciel, minus a small wooded place two blocks away where helpers gather poppy seeds and milk thistle.

“I was painting roses since it was the only time I could get away from everything,” Renjun starts. “But then I heard people screaming and there were people with weapons and then a stampede ensued.” Renjun shivers thinking about what happened in the past thirty minutes, and at this movement, his twisted leg twitches and he bites his lower lip to contain a scream.

You’re about to scurry off and get something for the pain, but Renjun grips your wrist tightly, an uneasy smile on his face.

“You didn’t tell me what you’re doing here.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you scoff.

“Enlighten me.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m here as a healer. I come every week with Doyoung.”

“And I can imagine that it’s not what you’re supposed to be doing?” Renjun asks, knowing what the obvious answer is.

You don’t answer him.

“Well, I was here doing what I wasn’t supposed to be doing.” He chuckles. “If my father found out I was painting, he would rip me in half.” Renjun wasn’t lying. The life of a royal was restricting, no matter if you were a man or a woman. For a man, hunting was seen as an appropriate, manly hobby, but painting isn’t.

“Apparently, painting is only for indecent people who ogle naked women and sleep with their muses.”

You almost want to gasp with how crass Renjun sounded. Renjun only laughs at your shocked expression before sucking in a breath due to his pain. With a wet cloth on a tray nearby, you dab the wounds on his arms, and Renjun’s face contorts at this gesture.

You hurry back to the shelves of herbs and grab some marigold paste and some thin, bandage cloths. Gently, you apply the salve on Renjun’s wounds and bandage them with a precision that you have been perfecting for a long time. Renjun only focuses on you as he tries to forget about the pain, admiring your expertise. It wasn’t every day that a royal knew a skill that didn’t include commanding others to do tasks for them.

Looking at his awkward leg, you make direct eye contact with Renjun.

“This is going to hurt a lot,” you say. Rushing to the counter at the front, you grab a stick and give it to Renjun. “Put this in your mouth,” you say in a commanding voice that Renjun doesn’t want to argue with.

Carefully, you hold the side of Renjun’s knee with one hand, and with the other hand, you yank his leg, locking it back into its correct place.

The twig in Renjun’s mouth snaps during the process.

“You were right,” Renjun says breathlessly.

“Say,” Renjun says after a while of watching you apply a salve of milk thistle on the cuts on his legs before bandaging them.

“I won’t tell your father that you were out here healing the poor, not once but weekly with Doyoung unless I get to paint you.” The request is shocking, and you look at Renjun, puzzled for a split second before you make an offer of your own, a smile on your face. If there’s anything a royal is good at, no matter a man or woman, it was negotiating.

“And I won’t tell your father that you were painting unless you come and help out with me here,” you counteroffer.

“An eye for an eye,” Renjun recalls, remembering how you passionately defended Queen Clytaenmestra for making King Agamemnon to pay for his life after leading his eldest daughter to her death. In this case, one favor each to keep you both doing what you loved doing.

“Yes. This knife cuts both ways,” At how solemn you both sound, you two look each other in the eye to seal the verbal contract that you have just created.

For once, your parents made a good match for you.

It’s another few days before you see Renjun again. It’s at dinner, but this time the air of tension, filled with encoded thoughts is gone, and both your father and the King of Neo look jubilant. That can only mean one thing: they both have reached a deal that they are both happy with. It’s surprising, given that at the end of such long deals, one side is unhappy in ‘giving in too much’ while the other believes that they have won a match.

Nonetheless, dinner is no less than fine. Renjun’s father sits at the end of one table with Renjun at a seat nearby, while your father is seated at the other end of the table, with your mother accompanying you. You sit in between your mother and Renjun, while on the other side, the King’s advisor is facing you directly. Joining you tonight are a couple of earls and marquis who your family has always been particularly close with, enough so to share such an important meal as tonight’s meal.

“We have some exciting news,” The King of Ambrosia says. You think everyone in the room already knows what the news is due to his expression, but that doesn’t stop him from sharing.

“King Huang and I have reached a suitable deal. They will provide a sum of armory and mercenaries to help us with our problems with rebels. Just in time after the incident at the Carcel. He has been so agreeable due to the arrangement that Princess Y/N and Prince Renjun have. Our grandchildren will be certainly powerful!” Your father cheers. You smile pleasantly and find Renjun’s face beside you, and he also stares at you with equal fondness. The others in the room are pleased that you two have gotten on well. Although they only know of one meeting between you two, no complaints have been made by either of you against the other. For the two of you, suitors are a touchy subject, and you both have a hard time getting along with others that you are arranged to marry, but this time, it seems like two kindred souls have met.

Your father’s prayers have been answered; Ambrosia won’t fall to ruin after his overspending. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from having lavish, excessive meals every night while the people of his kingdom are starving.

King Huang starts speaking. “The King and I have started talking about something to celebrate the upcoming marriage. We have discussed a tourney in Princess Y/N and Prince Renjun’s honor.”

Your mother claps gleefully, and the King’s advisor looks thoughtful. He hoped that Neo’s resources were in plenty, so he wouldn’t have to impose more taxes.

Your mother looks at you pointedly for you to make a response, but Renjun speaks first. “On behalf of myself and my betrothed, I thank you both for your generosity.” His voice is crisp, sincere yet formal. He looks at you with a smile. “I’m sure that we both are going to enjoy it.” You both know that if there’s anything that you’d enjoy, it would be a room full of books and paints.

The servants arrive with plates and plates of food, freshly and expertly cooked by the castle chef. You eat the creamed lobster, poached eggs, meat-stuffed bread, carrot purees, chocolate souffles, and wash it all down with red wine. The table is filled with content eating sounds, the clacking of forks against ornately designed china.

As the last plate is collected by a kitchen maid, music fills the nearby ballroom.

“A night like tonight should be celebrated with music!” Your father announces. The dinner party follows him and the King of Neo to the ballroom, where there is a live orchestra filled with the best musicians in Ambrosia. They play waltzing music, so the earls and dukes start dancing with their wives, and their children find people to dance with.

“May I have this dance?” Renjun is on one knee, his hand held out as he waits for you to accept his invitation. You scoff a little at how ‘noble’ he is acting, compared to the boy painting in secret and stating that he hated meeting suitors.

“Of course, my betrothed,” you say smoothly, taking the boy’s soft hand. He stands upright, and you look almost eye-level with him. He gingerly puts a hand to your waist and the other clasps your hand as he dances with you. You think that you probably learned to Walz around the same time you learned to walk, and the steps feel familiar as you follow the compound beat.

“One, two, three, one two three,” Renjun murmurs to himself. If you hadn’t been listening carefully enough, you wouldn’t have heard him count to himself. You only did so when you were a beginner of the walz, counting to make sure that your steps were correctly timed as your dance instructor danced with you.

You can’t help a giggle bubble up your throat.

“What’s that?” Renjun asks.

“What’s what?” You reply, feigning ignorance.

“I know you heard me.” Renjun confronts you.

“I’ve never heard anyone our age counting during the Walz.”

“What’s wrong with counting? I like to be precise.” Renjun challenges in that playful way that you can’t get enough of. You exhale.

“Only children count when they Walz.”

“Can I make a confession?” Renjun asks. His voice is quiet, and his lips are close to your ear, his breath hot and smelling of spices. At this moment, he looks absolutely ravishing.

He doesn’t wait for you to reply. “I only learned to Walz last week. Your mother taught me. She thought it was improper that I didn’t know how to dance with a lady.” That did sound like your mother. You take a second to see her dancing with your father in a perfect Walz, from years of hosting and attending events that are similar to this one.

You sigh, bringing your body closer to his and correcting any of his missteps. You loved the way that his body deliciously brushed against yours, and the way that his hand moved down your back, not entirely gentlemanly. You keep your voice quiet, closing some space between your faces. “She knows I don’t care about that.”

“Does she?” Renjun questions. You don’t answer. The royal breed wasn’t exactly the best listeners. There were a lot of ideas that your parents liked to push into your head, such that a woman should be the type devoted to her husband and her life’s work is creating an heir to the throne. And there is one thing for sure: women were supposed to be pure. They didn’t have sexual urges, they were subject to the will of their husbands.

You’re not going to pretend that thoughts wouldn’t enter your brain as Renjun’s length brushes your leg…

You and Renjun keep dancing for a few more minutes, but neither of you is really feeling the mood anymore. It’s always a surprise how the upper class can keep dancing and dancing and dancing.

“Does this dance ever end?” Renjun groans. No one seems to hear him, trapped in their own worlds.

“It does now,” you say. You stop dancing and gently yank Renjun’s arm. Without an eye on either of you, the dull Walz music becomes a distant memory as you both walk into the dark castle corridors. There are a few guards here and there, but you and Renjun walk up the stairs and stop midway through the staircase, on the flat piece of floor that proceeds another swivel staircase. A large window is on the wall, and you can see the moon, a small crescent.

There’s something so romantic about the dark, something that makes you want to unleash your inner feelings. Huang Renjun is thinking the same thing.

You can barely see each other’s faces as your lips meld into his. Renjun was different, and you wanted him, you think as you taste his lips from every possible angle, his nose bumping into yours. His hands feel intoxicating as his hands find your waist, his grip deceptively tight as if he never wanted to let go of a woman like you.

At the sound of echoing footsteps, you and Renjun jump away from each other and search for the source of the footsteps. It’s a few guards, and they make brief eye contact with you and then with Renjun.

You press a quick kiss on Renjun’s lips. It was the perfect time to stop. You haven’t given up your chastity just yet, your dress was still on! Now you would leave him wanting more. It was the strategy your mother gave you when you were meeting suitors, but you can find other ways to keep that statement relevant in your life.

“Until later, my sweet,” you lean in, murmuring those sultry words against his lips. You leave him standing by the large window as you find your way back to your chambers on the other side of the castle, becoming a smaller and smaller shadow in Renjun’s vision.

The next time you would visit the streets of Ciel is sooner than you think, for this week has gone by rather quickly. As per your agreement with Renjun, he would help you out in the makeshift apothecary with Doyoung if you kept his secret that he paints in his spare time. This week, the apothecary is not less active than it was last week since the spread of disease is rampant in these areas, so you’re glad that you’re able to bring some forced labor with you.

Renjun is also dressed in servants’ uniforms, getting it from your lady’s maid, who covertly got this from the washerwoman. However, before you got out of the cart bringing you, Renjun, and Doyoung into the city, you still felt like he had a ‘noble’ look to him. Finding some dirt on the ground, you take a handful and rub it on Renjun’s cheek.

“There,” you say, admiring your handiwork. “You look more like Y/N the maid’s friend.” Renjun just laughs a hearty, carefree laugh.

The story behind Renjun was easy to fabricate when you were explaining his presence to Soobong, Sooyoung, and Jaemin. He also worked at the same nobleman’s house that you did but as a server, and he wanted to find out what you were hiding when you disappeared one afternoon every week. You made him swear that he would never tell since you were supposed to be working, and after he promised he wouldn’t tell, you brought him here. Sooyoung looked a little suspicious after you told your story, and you felt like your heart was beating in your throat as you waited for her to say or do anything, that maybe she recognized him from the last week after the storming of the Carcel, but she doesn’t say anything. You were more than relieved.

She probably didn’t care anyway, given that your group needed more help than you could imagine. More healing apprentices showed up, mixing salves and administering medicines, but most of Ciel has been under strict curfew. After the storming, your father demanded that there be soldiers on the streets, prowling for any rebels, courtesy of the deal made with the King of Neo.

They were given the right to shoot if they even looked dissatisfied with how the people were behaving.

Although you were (somewhat) safely tucked inside the abandoned building that you have been paying to keep as a hospital for the sick of Ciel, you can still feel the tension outside, as if they are waves licking at the windows. People walk stiffly, their eyes darting before they say something, trash litters the ground, hastily-built huts and pieces of wood serve as many peoples’ homes as they inhabit the slums for their work.

Of course, only when there is dissent are the royals actually thinking of the people of Ciel.

Soldiers stand outside, backs straight, yet some squirm in their thick uniforms under the bright, hot sun. It’s not like they can do anything to an apothecary, so they stand, looking around. The thought of being watched makes you feel almost breathless, and you just hope you don’t look like royalty enough for them to notice. As your heart beats a little faster, you tightly wrap a bonnet you found around your head, focusing your vision only on the sick.

You show Renjun to the table where Doyoung is, and show him how to crush leaves and efficiently save all the healing juice, how to wrap a bandage, how to clean a wound, where to get some water to soak cloths, and where the stores of poppy seeds, milk thistle, and other anti-inflammatory herbs are. Those, you think, are the most important training to learn first.

Renjun watches as you talk to Sooyoung, the girl who chats with new arrivals and diagnoses their conditions. Then you grab herbs, bandages, and wet cloths and work around the room with the help of Jaemin, who is now administering medicine since Renjun is supposed to be crushing leaves and filling the water bucket.

If you haven’t noticed, life was getting harder at Ciel. Just as you were curing more sick people, more and more people were coming in, needing treatment. Not to mention that not everyone survives treatment; every week, you’re surrounded by death. On top of that, with the current instability in Ciel, Renjun was surprised that you were dead-set on coming with Doyoung because it wasn’t really your job to care. Sure, it wasn’t really Doyoung’s job to care either, but since he grew up in Ciel as an orphan, he always would feel the need to give back to his hometown. But you? You were the child of two royals, who had everything you could ever possibly need in the castle. But that wasn’t enough for you. You had to know that your subjects were okay, and if they weren’t, you wanted to do your part and help even if you have no say in most royal affairs.

Every day, he has more and more reasons to fall in love with you.

For a while, Renjun admires your work from afar, but he continues to work himself; just being surrounded by such productive people makes him want to be productive as well.

Finally, he’s able to get a moment alone with you.

“Why do you even care?” Renjun asks. You both are in a back room alone as you lead him to the borage supply to help cure a family’s fit of coughs.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You challenge. Renjun voices what he has been thinking while he observed you working yourself to the bone.

“Because you have everything you need in this life and in the next. What is a reason for doing this other than you’re probably the kindest person I’ve ever met in my whole life?”

You smile. “You know how our families were picked by God to rule? To conquer?”

“Of course.”

“There’s got to be a reason, right?” You question. “To give us such a high position in power over so many people.”

“He must have seen potential in our families. We need to live up to that.” You say simply.

“Have you ever told anyone your opinion?” Renjun asks quietly.

You snort a little before looking at your feet. “Once. To my father.” You turn your head to face Renjun, the smile widening on your face. “That was probably the hardest slap I’ve ever received.”

Renjun closes the space between you, and his face is so close that your noses are brushing. “Probably not as hard as the whipping I got after getting out of our palanquin to give a homeless man a few crackers in my pocket.”

“I guess we’re two soft-hearted people.” You giggle, finally closing the pesky gap between your lips. You pull away, letting your finger trace his lips. Renjun’s nostrils twitch at this feeling.

“We’re going to be different rulers when we get the throne, right?” You ask as you study his soft, pink lips that look deliciously kissable.

“Of course,” Renjun says after a long pause. “If there was a way to tell the people to wait for a little while longer…” Renjun trails off as he presses his forehead against yours. Immediately, he feels the dampness of your skin, how you’re sweating in this hot building, but he doesn’t care.

Renjun thinks he loves you now at this moment more than he ever thought he would even though your appearance is less than exemplary. But because it’s imperfect, it makes you feel more real.

“We’re going to give people more freedoms, like in other countries. We’ll share our resources better. And we can build schools to educate people and help them learn how to make the right decisions,” Renjun says. The word ‘we’ echoes in your brain. For the rest of your lives, Huang Renjun would be on your team, and together you would try to undo the oppression that your families have facilitated through generations.

“Would you rather be loved or be feared?” You ask Renjun as you absorb the warmth of his chest. It’s a pleasant sort of heat, not the heat that prikles your skin.

“I hate that question.” Renjun chuckles.

“Just answer it,” you pout.

“Fine.” Renjun sighs. “Feared.” You raise an eyebrow curiously.

“Why?”

“I only want to show love for my people. But I want my people to fear what will happen if they take advantage of me.”

“Interesting take,” you say softly. “You already know my answer. Love. I want to be loved by my people, no matter what.”

Renjun takes your cheeks into his hands as he stares into your beautiful eyes.

“Just be careful, my darling,” Renjun says. “You’re so trusting, too trusting for a royal.”

“Isn’t that what you love about me? That I’m different?” You ask playfully, poking his chest with your index finger.

Renjun doesn’t answer, only placing a kiss on your warm cheeks

You take Renjun’s hands and wrap them around your body so you can be held in his embrace. The future together seemed so sweet, but now, you need to focus on the present.

“Right, the borage,” you say, pulling away reluctantly.

If there was anything that your royal parents would disapprove of, it’s letting a man into a young maid’s bedroom, especially if she is unmarried.

But you’re not for one with the status quo, and as per the deal, you were going to let Renjun paint you. The only place that wasn’t crawling with servants and event planners trying to organize the tourney celebrating your’s and Renjun’s upcoming wedding that would be held on the royal grounds was your bedroom.

If there was anything you yourself would disapprove of is not keeping your word.

You’re sitting on the ottoman by the window of your bedroom, one leg over the other and your hands knit over your knee as you pose for Renjun’s painting. You’re wearing a long turquoise dress, one that doesn’t have a million underskirts. Renjun wanted you to wear a dress that was so undeniably you, and this turquoise gem was it. The soft blues complimented your pacifist nature, and it was incredibly simple too. It is one of those dresses where the top is laced up, creating a ‘v’ on your chest, and underneath, to keep you modest is a white under-dress. The sleeves are conical and long, which is one of your favorite styles. Your parents didn’t like this dress after you requested the seamstress to make it because it looked like something a working-class girl would wear, which after that, was the reason why you weren’t allowed to request dresses anymore and your mother would do that. You were only available at the dress fittings, which bored you beyond end.

It was just another way for your mother to silence you.

After some ten minutes of Renjun painting, you had a hard time remaining still, and that was when Renjun asked you to focus on something. You thoroughly focused your gaze on him, at his furrowed eyebrows at how he paints, dipping his brush in water, mixing new paints on his wooden palette. It’s as if the rest of the world is drowned out as he paints, and he exists only with you, his canvas, and his brushes. The way his eyes would drink in your appearance to replicate on the canvas made your heart rise to your throat; not so hidden in his eyes is his lust.

Renjun stops for a few moments. His fingers are at his chin as he looks pensive, looking between the canvas and you. His eyes are glazed, and his lips are pursed when he suddenly says something in a raw voice.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Excuse me?” You shoot back, stunned.

“You heard me.”

You’re not sure what’s happening in your chest, if your heart completely stopped beating or it’s beating so fast that you can’t even tell its keeping you alive.

You’re finally able to regain your composure when you say back wittily, “I guess you’re turning into the kind of painter that ogles naked women and sleeps with their muses.”

“I guess so,” Renjun smirks.

Your simple dress slips off your shoulders and falls to the ground when you unclasp the hook resting at the nape of your neck, and the following hooks that went down to your mid back. You’re left in your underdress, and your corset is beneath that.

“Beautiful,” Renjun murmurs. At the way you stop, reveling in his attention, Renjun chuckles. “Now take it off. All of it.” Renjun says. He watches how you untie your white underdress that is fastened by a thin bow on your waist, and he watches how the string comes undone, and the dress comes to your feet. You untie your corset in the same way and discard it carelessly to the side.

“I never liked that thing anyway.”

Renjun’s eyes travel down your body, to the way your waist is curved, beautiful with an hourglass shape and a cute paunch. He watches how the nubs of your breasts become hard at the way they are exposed too long, and to a man for the first time.

You sit back down on the ottoman. You think about re-creating the pose you were doing but think against it. As a caterpillar comes out of its cocoon to become a butterfly, you shed your cocoon of clothes and become this butterfly.

And you love how your nakedness weakens the man in front of you.

You reposition yourself on the ottoman, the expression on your face playful and carefree as you let your breasts hang on your chest shamelessly, plaching your arm between your narrowly-open legs to cover your womanhood. At the way your shoulder hunches, you create a cleavage on your chest.

It’s as if you’re Medusa, turning him into stone as he not-so-secretly ogles, the strokes of his brush against the canvas more sparse.

All of a sudden, you leap from the ottoman and saunter to Renjun, who stares up at you from his sitting position.

“You know you’re supposed to stand when you’re in the presence of royalty. That’s basic manners.” With a coy smile on your face, you swat his shoulder, your breasts jiggling and almost hitting his face.

“Y-yes Your Highness,” Renjun says, bashfully looking away. He stumbles as he stands, and you can see even through his thick breeches a large erection. You can’t stop yourself from giggling as you grab him. Your bed is barely a meter away from where Renjun is, and you grab his shoulders and push him backwards, forcing him under you on the bed.

You have both of his wrists in his hand as you animalistically kiss him, your womanhood searching for his manhood underneath his clothes. You can feel his rough stubble from his cheeks after maybe two days of not shaving, and it feels delicious, that you’re being touched, fucked by a real man. Renjun passionately enjoys your kiss, biting and sucking your lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues war inside your mouth, sliding against each other in a slobbery way that is normally disgusting, but beautiful if it is done with the right person. You gasp as his tongue reaches further and further down your mouth, almost entering your throat. Your second of shock allows Renjun’s wrists to slip from your grip, and he places them on your naked side, squeezing the softer part of your body, his hands slowly climbing up and down your back until finally, he gives your rump a delicious squeeze. Panting, you finally find his hard dick under his clothes, and you hump him as hard as you can, moving your hips along Renjun’s body, shaking your bed.

“Slower, Your Highness. You don’t want to break the bed,” Renjun chuckles.

Renjun audibly moans at how you’re riding him, but slowly, the pleasure comes to an end. Renjun opens his eyes (that he didn’t realize was closed) to see you slide off of the bed, reaching from the side to pull off his breeches.

“You’re reading my mind,” he says. You’re able to pull his thick breeches and pull up his tucked-in shirt to find his cock hidden in his underclothes. You pull it down to Renjun’s mid-thigh, watching with excitement as his cock springs out, large and erected at how much your humping aroused him. You reach out and excite his member some more, moving the delicate skin up and down, squeezing his hard length.

Leaning forward, you decide that it is time to suck, and you wrap your lips around his cock. You move your head up and down his length, your lips following, shielding your teeth from coming in contact with his sensitive skin. Your tongue swirls around his member, creating obscure saliva designs, and you can hear Renjun above you, turning into puddy by the minute as you pleasure him.

Your mouth starts to fill with seed suddenly, and you gulp it down, tasting the sweet cherry pie that was for desert tonight in his cum. You close your eyes blissfully, and you don’t even realize that Renjun is sitting up. With a strength you didn’t even know he possessed, he pulls you up to his side, and he climbs on top of you.

He’s ready to take charge.

Renjun takes your lips into his mouth as he freely moves his hands on you as if he’s never going to touch you again. He hands travel from your cheeks to your jawbone, moving down to your collarbone and then your nice, plush breasts. He spends a few moments there, letting his hands massage the soft flesh, and you can feel moans leave your mouth. After a few moments, he focuses on your nipples, pinching them until you yelp. Then, his hands travel down your body, to your slightly paunchy stomach and your curvy sides. His hands wander to your throbbing womanhood, and his lips wander to the side of your neck.

You’re overcome with more pleasure than you think is possible.

“You’re so beautiful, like art.” Renjun murmurs as he pulls away from your neck, starting lovingly at your ruffled hair, at your smooth skin, at your bruising breasts and neck that will surely yield black and purple marks from tonight’s activities.

You smirk at him. “Then you should be looking, not touching.”

Renjun’s eyes glow at how you use your wit, how mischievous, how playful yet serious you can be. He’s lucky to consider a woman like you his betrothed.

“You’re the exception.”

Once those words slice the air, you feel Renjun’s fingers force themselves inside of you. About to scream, Renjun takes his other hand and places it over your mouth.

“You don’t want the world to hear how good you’re getting fucked, hmm?” Renjun asks in a soft voice. Your screams remain trapped between your lips and his palm as Renjun forces one, two, four fingers into your womanhood. Your legs are flailing, but Renjun’s position on top of you keeps him steady on your body.

Everything that comes out of your mouth is just a jumble, but you can hear yourself whimper and moan while saying “please.”

“You’re so well-mannered, Your Highness,” Renjun coos. “Oh, look,” Renjun notices. “Something came,”

You don’t realize the white-ish, clear-ish liquid that came out from how fucked you were getting until you look down.

As Renjun leans down for a taste, you suddenly close your legs. Renjun’s hands travel to your upper thighs, his knees on the ground since he hopped out of the bed.

“Please please let me taste it, Your Highness,” Renjun begs from underneath you. His eyes become larger, rounder, and you realize that the power has shifted to you. For you and for Renjun, you realize that you both don’t fully take control of the bed, but it comes in waves. As Renjun becomes more submissive, you can feel yourself inflate, becoming more dominant.

“Beg some more,” you command.

“Please please please,” Renjun says in a string, the word jumbling more and more as he repeats his desire. He nestles his chin between your thighs and looks up at you with wide, innocent-looking eyes.

It was these same eyes that watch you flail around as he inserted digit after digit of his right hand into your vagina. He’s a lion in sheep’s clothing, and you can already feel the little sheep start to suck the skin of your inner thighs, pressing loud smooches. You watch him graze your legs, his nose becoming covered with a dollop of his own saliva as he uses his mouth to convince you.

You don’t realize that you’re opening your legs to fully enjoy the pleasure that Renjun is giving you when you feel his head between your thighs, licking your vagina.

“Mmmhm” Renjun rumbles to himself, enjoying your sex. You can feel loud moans catch in your throat at how skillful his tongue, how sinful this pleasure feels. Renjun moves up your body, to your lower stomach, trailing your skin with your own cum until he finally meets your jawline. He presses more than ten loud smooches to that small piece of your body before surrendering his lips to yours, his mouth tasting like the cherry pie that you ate also that was present in your cum.

Renjun’s hands still linger by your pussy, taking your cum in his hands. You feel slightly ticklish at what he is tracing along your stomach, and you look down, only to see his name written on your skin in your cum.

“Mine,” Renjun says possessively, quickly taking your lips into his mouth. You bring Renjun closer to you, crushing him against your body because you want to become one so badly. You tangle your legs with Renjun’s, feeling his bare, naked member rub against your clit. Renjun decides to drive you crazy, rather than relieving you and your throbbing walls with his large dick, he decides to keep rubbing himself against you.

“Please, please go in, Your Highness,” you address your betrothed, properly. “I need you I need you,” you mumble to yourself.

“Have you got enough room for a future king?” Renjun asks coyly.

“Yes, Your Highness. King Renjun,” you reassure him.

With that, Renjun pounds his length into you, in and out, in and out repeatedly until you start feeling your head spin with delicious pleasure.

Yet at the same time, you feel adrenaline coursing through your veins. You feel like you could lift a mountain with how much energy Renjun’s dick puts inside of you. Renjun shakes a little, roaming his body along yours so that his penis could explore inside of your walls. You gasp at how good that feels, how your walls squeeze his member, craving for his seed that dried up after you gulped it down like a hungry child.

As your mind wanders, the whole world turning into background noise as Renjun’s dick pounds into you, you whimper at the pain, how Renjun is tearing at your hymen. Yet, you still feel pleasured at the sensation, satisfying Renjun’s manly needs, and your needs for new experiences.

You look down at your stomach, and maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear you see the outline of Renjun’s penis in your stomach as it roams around. You gasp and whine at how good the feeling is, how rough Renjun’s hands are while he grips your sides, and Renjun pulls out, his member dripping with his seed, arousal that coursed in him due to being inside of you. He pounds his length into you more and more as he looks into your eyes.

You feel as though you could be trapped in this moment forever, of just you and Renjun panting to a rhythm that only you two know, completely naked as Renjun puts a little more of himself in you, making you both into one person. You think that all your problems being a royal, the daughter of your father, the impending stress of taking your kingdom and enforcing a newer, freer, more modern rule that hasn’t been seen or heard before. Certainly your royal advisors would be against it, only interested in perpetuating the old ways.

Those problems feel elevated knowing that Renjun is by your side. Fucking your brains out every night.

Renjun heaves a breath as he finally pulls out of you completly for a second time, lying down next to you. His member is still seeping with cum, and with a mischevious glance, you climb on top of him, your nipples barely touching his chest with how you’re positioned on top of him. You grab his penis, pleasuring it for a little bit before squeezing out more cum from your betrothed. He moans at your touching, and you can feel him shifting his position so he can enjoy you on top of him more. Pulling yourself away slightly, you trace your name onto his skin.

“Mine,” you say with a cheeky grin, admiring your handiwork under the moonlight that filtered into your bedroom.

All of the animalistic urges are gone from you two, and you both are panting heavily at the activity of the last hour, staring into each others’ eyes, shocked that you both were capable of such passion. You bring your face a few centimeters away his chest and kiss his heart. Renjun coos at you, gently placing his lips on your jaw. He trails soft kisses along your collarbone until he kissing the soft flesh of your breasts. He sucks on the nubs of your breasts, this time he is the infant, and he places his head between your breasts.

“I suppose we were overenthusiastic about our jobs, and made a male heir too quickly,” Renjun murmurs between the mounds called your breasts. Your laugh only causes them to jiggle, causing Renjun to laugh too.

“We’ll find out if we were successful if I skip my period.”

“The birth date would certainly raise some eyebrows among the Royal Court,” Renjun chuckles.

“It would, but then I would remind them that their wives are waiting for them at home, waiting for them to finish their work in the castle and nothing else,” you have a cutely evil look on your face, and Renjun picks up what you try to hint.

There’s silence between you and Renjun. He pulls his face away from your breasts, and your faces are so close, you can feel the shadow of his nose on yours.

“I love you,” Renjun says quietly. “From our first conversation in the library, I’ve known you’re the one.” Renjun waits in anticipation for your answer. You trace the outline of his face with your index finger.

“I love you too. I’m glad that if I’m allied with anyone in this cold world, it’s you.”

Renjun sighs, and your faces slide against each other. Completely naked under the romantic silver moonlight that pools on your’s and Renjun’s flesh, you act as though cuddling with your beloved like this is the most normal thing in the world.

“I’ll never let you down.”

The day of the tourney has arrived. Your father and Renjun’s have spent the greater part of two months preparing for this tourney, providing your mother the funds to put it together. If there’s anything a royal woman loved is party planning, and a tourney is just in your mother’s wheelhouse.

All of your noble friends have been invited, dukes and earls, barons and other landlords that your family is on good terms with. They are said to bring their families, that this was one grand party.

You’re seated with your mother and father, and Renjun is by your side. The King of Neo would be arriving late today, discussing some terms of the agreement he and your father came up with to his weapons suppliers, and he would be joining you later.

Together, your family and Renjun are watching a fencing match between two men, but the stakes are raised higher in this match: the two competitors must fence on horses. Until one man is unhorsed, the match will continue.

You never understood the point of watching two men fight on horses, but it is something you’ve gotten used to attending hundreds of matches with your family. What was the point in all this when the kingdom needs help?

Sighing, you keep your thoughts to yourself. Renjun is sitting beside you with equal boredom, and you can tell that he probably has the same opinion as you. However, neither of you suggested leaving for some alone time because after all, this whole event was held in your name. Together, you would imitate the cheers of the other dukes and earls sitting with you, agreeing when they would talk about fencing strategy.

The man in a dark horse and slim, fitting steel armor is Jung Jaehyun, a knight that was trained in Ambrosia. His father was a lower baron, but his status increased the second that his son was accepted into the King’s Guard when you were just a little girl. With his helmet and his clean strokes to his opponent, you’re reminded of the girlish crush you had on him as he ingratiated himself with your father. However, he married the daughter of an earl and had a daughter that was a few years younger than you.

Normally, a man can be unhorsed by Jung Jaehyun in the matter of minutes, but his opponent is not giving up. The other man is someone you do not recognize after your years of attending tourneys and matches. He must be some new talent if he is able to be on the roster for the tourney and face of Jaehyun for this long.

From the others around you, this man’s name is Qian Kun, and he’s from a different kingdom (those around you are throwing around more names than you can keep up with). He’s on a white horse, wearing minimal armour and determination on his face. His name is whispered as if he’s a forbidden secret. If one thing’s for sure, he’s keeping the audience interested – even you and Renjun are focused.

Every thrust that Jaehyun throws, this Kun is able to block it, moving his body with a flexibility that you know for sure Jaehyun has. Jaehyun has brute force, from what you learned watching him, and he’s able to break down his opponents by being relentless. Most don’t have the skill to dodge.

After multiple dodges and audience gasps, Kun starts attacking in his own right. You think that Jaehyun took the phrase ‘the best defense is offense’ too seriously because he struggles to dodge Kun’s shots. He’s so used to being on the attack that he doesn’t know how to defend himself properly. Being a big fish in Ambrosia make his skill in taking a strong opponent weak.

It doesn’t take long for Kun to unhorse Jaehyun, and Jaehyun falls unceremoniously to the ground. The umpire calls it a match and races towards Kun, pulling his hand up in the air to signify to the audience that he really won. The audience is in shock before a few people start clapping, and then the rest. Kun gets a standing ovation from you and Renjun, and the others in the tourney follow in suit.

The winners of matches get to enjoy the fruits of their rigorous training. There’s a cash prize, and for a boy like Kun, who wears homemade-looking armour and has a tan on his face and neck from rough outdoor work, the cash prize is something that can alleviate his and his family’s pain.

Finally, you see Renjun’s father, the King of Neo, appear after all the hoopla that Qian Kun’s victory was for this torney. Another match would be taking place between two different knights or other sportsmen.

“What a match you missed!” Your father says to Renjun’s in a light tone.

There’s something different in the air with the King of Neo. All of a sudden, you feel as though the eyes of the world are around you. While you’re surrounded by a few of the nobles that your family is close with, the others are scattered around, and if you really think about it, the others sitting around you beside them are completely unfamiliar. They are people that Renjun’s father brought from Neo who are allegedly very close to his family, who would want to honor the marriage of their prince with the princess of Ambrosia.

The King of Neo nods, and then hands grab your father and mother, as well as your family friends. You feel the tight grasp of familiar hands on your forearms, and you look behind you, to see it’s Renjun.

His gaze isn’t recognizable. He only looks to his father, waiting for his instruction.

Your father is cursing, spitting, while your mother’s face is drained of all blood as she stares in horror around her.

“Renjun?” You ask, looking at your betrothed, hoping this was all some sort of game or mistake, but a part deep down in you knows that it’s not either.

“Where to, father?” Renjun asks, avoiding your gaze. His grip on you becomes tighter.

“Take them to the cellar.”

You feel almost stupid as the story is unfolded in front of you. Renjun and his father are the Resistance, and their identities have been cloaked well. Ambrosia, as the largest kingdom in the area, was vulnerable, and the people were struggling and starving. All the King of Neo had to do was inject the idea of revolution by distributing literature that cried for revolution, and educate people that life could be better than being a peasant. Declare independence from your ruler, like those in France and America few years before. That worked as a recruiting process, and made his organization stronger. It gave him ears everywhere and a wonderful plan to destroy Ambrosia and take the fertile land for himself.

The information that your family is almost bankrupt passed to the Resistance through maids that were seen and not heard, and Renjun’s father set up a match that your father could not refuse. It was a perfectly crafted offer that would make any normal man suspicious. You guess your father was just despirate to make his money problems go away.

So Renjun came, his father got what he wanted from your father, and now you were trapped in a cell, your castle sieged. Wooing you or no wooing you, your father would have forced you to marry Renjun, but in the time that you’ve been locked up, you concluded that Renjun enjoyed watching you fall for him.

Huang Renjun was one hell of a trojan horse. Always be wary if a deal is too good. And always be wary when someone is just too perfect.

You’ve never felt so stupid and childish before. Thinking that after the tourney, you would start seeing dressmakers who would taylor your wedding dress. Hire musicians, cooks, cleaners, and waiters. Tasting delicacies that will be present at the wedding meal. You thought that you were going to be with Renjun forever, but you now realize that forever was just a fantasy.

Instead, you were starving. Compared to the delicious, decadent three meals per day that you were used to seeing, the mysterious mush that gaolers presented you did not sit in your stomach well, and sometimes, your meal times were skipped. You never knew when your next meal came.

You guess you now understand the life of the poor people of Ciel.

One day, out of deliriousness and anguish, from the lack of sleep you were getting on the floor of a wine cellar, you threw your hot mush at the guard who opened the door to give you one of your meals. He hit you across the head and you fell over anticlimactically like a rag doll.

Furious at this insolence, the higher-ups of the Resistance decided to tortue you some more. Forcing your head into a bucket of ice cold water. Ripping open your skirt. Beating you with anything they had on them; once a gaoler beat you with a spoon. You’re chained to the floor as the door opens, and your new gaoler is in front of you.

It’s none other than Huang Renjun, the same way you met him but different. His hair is combed back, and he wears a warm overcoat, trousers, and long boots. He has a small book in his pocket. It’s Oresteia by Aeschylus. The weather has been getting colder in the few weeks you’ve been trapped under the castle that you’ve always called your home.

Renjun drops the plate in front of you. He can’t even bear to look at you.

“How are you enjoying Oresteia?” You challenge, venom in your voice. God, what you thought you would do after you saw Renjun on that fateful day at the tourney. You thought you would slap him and kick him and hurt him in the way that you have been hurting in the past few weeks.

Since you’re too weak to do any of that, you settle for some ‘dull’ conversation about a book, a book that brought you two together. How apt.

“It’s good.” Renjun says simply. He looks away. He doesn’t say anything more than that. Where is that spirit that impressed you when you first met? You wonder if that was a sham.

Renjun is about to leave when he stops himself. He turns around and faces you. You, out of all people, deserved an explanation. He shuts the thick door of your cell. He doesn’t face you as he clears his throat.

“You know, I didn’t want to do any of that.” He struggles to say any of this, to verbally disagree with his father. His father is the seed he came from. You are not his blood at all. Words made this whole fiasco more real.

“Really?” You ask, unimpressed. The dark circles under his eyes tell you that he needs your forgiveness so he can sleep at night.

“It went too far. Why couldn’t he just be happy with what he had?” Renjun grovels, not speaking to you in particular anymore.

“I want to speak with my father. Or my mother,” you command icily.

Renjun sits down. “They’re dead. Beheaded two days ago.” His voice is dry and cold. “My father went with them.”

You gulp. This information isn’t that shocking, yet you feel bile rise in your throat. You knew any news of your parents would mean death. They represent everything that the proletarians hated about the upper class. They would be the first to be kill. Yet still, knowing that the people who raised you, the people who you didn’t always agree with, were erased forever from this world makes your heart sink.

You don’t have any other siblings. You are now truely alone in this world.

But then the second part of the news sinks in your brain. You raise your brow. Renjun explains. He finally has someone he can process these events with.

“Once the other members of the Resistance found out that my father only gathered them so that he could take over, they killed him.” He choked. “Knowing that their cause was manufactured so that another king could rule them made him just as bad. I swore my fealty to the new Resistance in exchange for my life. The organization has decided on a new leader today. A man named Bang.”

“Just a few hours ago, five of your dearest earls were killed. The ones at the tourney. Bang and his cronies are scouring the records of anyone who was friendly with your family.”

You snort a little. Renjun looks at you, and he knows that he deserved it.

“Poetic justice, I guess,” you say, speaking about the deceased King of Neo. Renjun shrugged his shoulder. After a silence ensues between the two of you, Renjun gulps in a deep breath.

“You know, they want to kill you next. Who better than the offspring of the Mad King?” He asks rhetorically. You were prepared for this. It’s not like you were going to be held in a dungeon until the end of time. You were going to have to face the music for your father’s crimes against his people. It felt so unfair, but it couldn’t be helped.

“I’ve been postponing it. I tried to postpone your parents’ execution too.”

You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath.

“Even after all of this, I still care about you.” Renjun says. His voice is small, as if he’s afraid of someone hearing his declaration of love. After all, there is still a guard posted outside these echoey cellar walls.

Who you thought was a sweet, sensitive, artistic man was one who was always under the thumb of someone else, be it his father or this Bang character.

“You’ll care about me until your new master calls,” you say derisively.

Renjun pursed his lips.

“I deserved that. But I want to be better for you.”

You bite your lower lip.

“How?”

Renjun’s lips are close to your ear; you can barely hear the words he’s saying.

“My men found a network of tunnels down here. One of the rocks on this wall is movable and will open a passage inside. I will give you a map. When you are done reading, eat it up, so there’s no paper trail.

“When I give you a lantern, you know that that is the time. I’ll give you a watch and a slip of paper about the time that there are the least guards watching the outside of this castle. I’ll distract anyone else. All you have to do is run. Got it?” Renjun asks.

You’re stunned. Immediately, you want to tell him that you’ve got it, but you’re now suspicious. After all, your family’s demise was being too trusting to the wrong people.

And Renjun has proven that he’s the wrong person.

“How do I know if I can trust you?” You ask.

“It’s the only choice you have. If you don’t escape using this plan and try to run off any other way, then you will be caught, tortured, and beheaded. The Resistance is scary business. You want my help. I’m their inside man. And I love you. I still do, even after all of this.”

You sigh. You could be fooled again. But it’s better than rotting in a wine cellar at the mercy of the Resistance, living every day hoping it’s not the day of your beheading. At least running gave you an iota of control that you lacked your whole life, as a royal or as a ragged prisoner.

And there’s something else. His eyes. His eyes were able to fool you once, but there is something truthful to it this time.

You don’t have to say anything for Renjun to understand your agreement.

The lantern comes only a few weeks later. Since Renjun came to you with a plan of escape, you’ve felt more lively, and Renjun notices that as your gaoler for a few weeks. Due to the “good behavior” that Renjun vouched, you were unchained once again in your cell.

Your first small step towards freedom.

Renjun is able to slip in a few delicacies that Bang and his cronies are eating upstairs in the dining room that you used to eat your whole life. One day an apple pie, another lamb stew with herbs. While you gobbled down that food – the only food you’re actually able to stomach – he would engage in a brief conversation with you; it was the only social interaction you’ve had since the Resistance took over and placed siege on the castle, yet he would only stay long enough that Bang would not grow suspicious of him.

Renjun handed you the map only a few days before the true escape, which was when you knew that the biggest moment of your life was coming. He wanted you to learn by heart the tunnels in the castle, enough so that you can reproduce the map in your head, and he didn’t want to give you the map too early in case you forgot. Obediently, you learned the map as best as you can, associating certain turns as if you were walking above ground in the castle that you were raised in. Once you were done, you ate the map, as Renjun said so no evidence would be left behind.

“180 degrees, vertical” was all he said. You knew what that meant; 6pm. You had no way of keeping time in your little, windowless cell, so Renjun gave you a pocket watch. It wasn’t just any pocket watch, but your fathers that he always kept in his breeches. Overwhelmed with emotion, you dismiss the man who is saving your life, and clutch the pocket watch.

A few minutes to six, you start palming the stone walls of the cellar, hoping to find the notch that will open a door that is your entrance to the secret passage. Your heart is in your throat as you claw the walls like a despirate animal, until finally you hit the right one. Using the minimal light and the small, hidable lantern that Renjun gave you, you trudge through the secret passage, remembering the map he gave you clearly, each step you take being another “dash” of your path on the map. You successfully navigate until you see a trapdoor. It requires a key for it to open, but you have a beautiful hairpin still in your hair from the day of the tourney. As you wiggle the pin into the lock, you take a deep sigh. This is a side exit that shouldn’t reveal your escape quite immediately.

Your heart is pounding restlessly as the open air touches your skin. The warm sun and fresh, cool air feel good against your skin, where in the past few weeks, you’ve been entombed in stale air. You gleefully inhale the scent of the garden’s orchids, which is wafting from the garden that is north of your estate.

You linger a little longer than you should. Renjun didn’t have to say it for you to know that this will be the last time you will see your beloved home ever again. Nothing will ever be the same again. You won’t be a high class woman (not that that mattered much to you anyway), you won’t have your excursions with Doyoung (what happened to him?), you won’t have your exquisite library anymore.

Your love for Renjun is a distant memory. Today, you will be leaving everything behind.

Your lingering turns to loitering when you feel a bright flash hit your face.

“The prisoner!” A guard shouts. He rushes towards you, and you are just quick enough to slip away into the large woods in your estate. You used to play here as a child, and you know the woods like its the back of your hand, and just as Renjun’s map promised, the areas you ran through were sparse of guards.

You can feel more footsteps thumping the ground as more and more men join the first man that noticed you loitering, and you feel nauseous. You can feel yourself screaming in your head that this is your one last shot, you can’t afford to mess up, and Renjun can’t even help you if you were caught.

Wading through the creek nearby with your bare feet, you run into a ditch, taking scrap leaves from the ground and covering yourself with the debris. You’re too out of breath to keep running anymore; the gruel has not been doing you any favors. You hide in a nearby ditch, clothing yourself in debris and the shadow.

“Sir, she went through the water,” you hear one man say.

“Then get into it!” Another man said, more likely the head of this security unit. “You all are a bunch of pussies, a little water doesn’t hurt anybody!”

You hear some reluctant groans as the men trudge through the creek, and you hear the shuffling of various feet at various positions, making it impossible to pinpoint where the noise is truly coming from.

You’ve never been more terrified in your life. You’re honestly not sure how you’ll react if one of the men on that security team find you. Will you scream? Will you cry? Will your heart break into two pieces knowing what lies in wait for you when you’re sent back to the Resistance? To another, worse cell burrowed deeper into the castle cellar than your previous cell? Tourtue would surely be a staple if you were caught. These are thoughts you want to filter out of your mind, but they seem to be infesting your thoughts.

“I don’t see her,” you hear one man say.

“I don’t either,” another man says. You feel slight relief coursing through your veins.

“What should we do, sir,” one man asks his superior.

He takes a deep breath. He shuffles through the woods, causing the anxiety and adrenaline to spike in your veins, and he takes a look around once more.

“Here’s what we will say,” you hear feet shuffling as the men get closer to their commander. “The girl died. She fell down that cliff over there,” he points to the cliff at the distance, the cliff that gives you a view of the Kingdom of Ambrosia. “We don’t mention what really happened here. Understood?” You can imagine that all the men are nodding.

As you hear the mens’ footsteps receding, you wait for ten minutes before your head peaks from the ditch. The sun has fallen, leaving the world pitch black.

Quietly, you shed off the debris from your pitiful dress as a snake sheds its skin.

Now begins your new life.

1802

You think you have seen the sun rise and set almost four thousand times since you escaped from the Resistance’s clutches. You haven’t seen or spoken to Renjun in the past eleven years, and he’s as good as dead. In the end, he righted his wrong, and you are not as bitter as you were when you were thrown into that cellar.

That night, you traveled tirelessly north from the woods of your estate, going somewhere you didn’t know yet. All you saw were woods and woods and woods. Maybe a racoon or two. Plenty of squirrels. You tried to talk to some, but that didn’t work very well. It was the loneliest period of your life.

Towns you considered settling in littered the landscape once you crossed Ambrosia’s boarder. Every day, you became a little less fearful that you were being searched for by the Resistance, and eventually, your quest for a new home came to an end after three months of searching. The peaceful little town you would be settling in was called Heaven’s Gate, called because of its high, rocky shores well above sea level.

From the newspapers, you observed the rise of the Resistance, with more and more bloodshed every day that Bang was in power. Eventually, he was beheaded, and the whole Resistance fell apart. From then, Democracy slowly rebuilt the area. In honor of its roots, the state that is your old home is now the Democratic State of Ambrosia.

The switch into democracy didn’t stop peoples’ fascination with the former royal family that was wiped out. There were public records of the death of your mother and father with images of their bodies and eyewitnesses of their death, but none of you. This lead many scholars to believe that you were still alive somewhere.

It’s a nicer alternative to the current narrative.

You smile at the few books and pamphlets you found in your new home’s library detailing the reasons why people think you are alive and where you are now. The common theory is that you boarded a ship to America as a stowaway, living your best life.

It occurred to you that if you walked a little longer, perhaps a few weeks, you could get to the coast and become the stowaway like the stories said and land yourself in America. That would truely be a fresh start. But to leave your homeland? Never.

The people of Heaven’s Gate were quite unassuming. Nobody asked many questions about your life before Heaven’s Gate. You took on a new identity, and the role as the town’s healer. At the ripe age of thirty-one, you have decided that Heaven’s Gate is your children and that you will repent for the sins of your father against his people.

You operate your healing out of your home, and thanks to healing a construction worker’s mother, you got an extension for your practice built for practically free. There is an entrance to your office from directly outside, a little waiting room, and an operating room for you to examine the sick. Definetly much better than your travelling medic act in Ciel.

As you sweep the floors of the operating room, you hear a knock on the door.

“Come in!” You shout.

In comes your apprentice Yoona, who has a strange man limping, leaning against her for support, his messenger bag dragging against the dirt.

“I found him by the creek. He’s already rubbed some marigold paste on his wound, but I wanted to see if you could do anything else with it.”

When you look at the man, it’s like you’ve seen him before. He’s around your age, wearing shabby, dirt-trodden clothes of someone who has begged for their whole life. He hasn’t looked like he’s showered in days, and he’s thin like a stick, but at the same time, he looks… content?

Nothing about this man made sense. Beggars didn’t know that marigold stops infections. Where could he have learned that? A friend? He looks like he’s been wandering alone for a long time.

Deciding not to much further thought into those observations, you notice how Yoona looks at you for a way to proceed.

“Right,” you say, hoping to hide how taken aback you are. “Any sickness? Headaches, sniffling, coughing?” You ask.

“None yet,” the man says grimly. “Although that bread looks very nice.” His gaze falls to the bread pan you have in the kitchen next door to your wing, fresh out of the oven. Despite how content this man looks, there’s a glint in his eye that betrays the hunger that gnaws at him, from days of starvation, running off of whatever he could find, most likely berries on the land. The man in front of you doesn’t emanate skill in hunting either, or else he would have a bow and arrow with him.

Out of pity, you take the bread from your kitchen and bring it into your operating room, letting Yoona shoulder the man into your extension. She lays him down on the bed, and nods out. She will be getting the standard items — water from the well, a few blankets, and spare clothes that you kept washed to give to anyone that came to you for medical help — sometimes, just being clean helps cure the illness more than medicine.

Once she leaves, it’s just you and this stranger. You curiously watch him as he gnaws on the bread, a look of relief in his eyes at not having to forage for this food. Something about this stranger though feels so familiar. But you don’t know how. Any associates of your family were wiped out during the violent period of the Resistance, so no one you love from your old life is left on this Earth.

Since the man already used your standard cure of marigold leaves, the only thing left for you to do is to rub a fresh coat, wrap a bandage around his wound, and hand him poppy seeds to put him to sleep faster since he has no signs of infection. Sleep is also an excellent cure.

When you hand him some poppy seeds, the man shakes his head. “I can take that in a little bit. Really I’m fine,” You look into this deep brown eyes, and the feeling of you knowing this man is gnawing at your brain. “Can you hand me my bag?” He asks. You look dubiously at him and to the poppy seeds still in your hands. “I promise I will take them.”

Knowing that you’re not going to breech this patient’s stubbornness, you grab his bag and place the poppy seeds into a small piece of cloth. The flap on top of the bag is pulled back, revealing a sketchbook and a small canvas. Memories, painful memories haunt your conscience of the boy who fooled you and then saved you.

Watching the man take his sketchbook, he opens to a page of roses. Immediately, the storming of the Carcel rushes back to you. At the way you’re watching the canvas peak out of the man’s messenger bag, he breaks the silence between you.

“I can show you what’s inside too.” He says. But you already have an idea what it is. Putting his sketchbook aside, the man pulls out the slightly dusty, smudged canvas.

It’s you. Naked. That fateful night.

“Huang Renjun?” You ask, finally able to find your voice.

The man smiles, confirming his identity. “I was beginning to think I would have to reintroduce myself.”

You’re completely flabbergasted. “W-What are you doing here?” You ask, your jaw practically dropping to the ground.

“Getting healed. Remember?” He points to his wounded leg.

“I know that,” You snort. “What I mean to say is how are you alive? Wouldn’t Bang have had your head since you let me escape? And then the ending of the Resistance. You were extremely high-profile. How did you avoid death all these years?”

Renjun stares into the distance, recounting his life in the past ten-ish years. “I wasn’t as high-profile as you’d think. I was the Resistance’s painter, painting portraits of high-profile Resistance members. And I was a gaoler. Something about my presence,” Renjun gestures.

Smiling, you agree. “You do have a power over people. Quite a comforting jailer.”

“I was close to the action, but was never really involved in it. I was more of a servant to Resistance members, if you will. And then the Resistance was overthrown. Any “close” members were taken into an interrogation center. I gave up everything I knew in exchange for a presidential pardon on War Crimes. That lead to the execution of Bang and his lackeys. Their over-the-table chatter led me to know about a little residence they have in Corsica where they went when things got too tough,” Renjun says ruefully.

You nodded, absorbing every part of this story.

“And then I heard rumors from old associates from my former kingdom. Neo is now a democracy. And then the papers. That you were alive somewhere. Deep down in my heart, I know you’re a fighter, you’re the strongest person that I know, and I just knew you couldn’t have died somewhere. I would have felt it.” Renjun places a fist against his heart.

“As I searched for you, I completed this canvas of you with the last of my expensive paints from my time with the Resistance. That’s how I felt so connected to you, so sure you were alive.” Renjun smiles at the painting, letting himself get lost in time.

He slowly moves his gaze from the painting that provided him condolence and guidance, his eyes glassy. “And here you are in front of me. Living your life. This is the life you always wanted, isn’t it? No royal chaos, no backstabbing and plotting. Just healing.”

You nod. “I’m happier in this little house in this nowhere town, paid mostly through favors and the peoples’ love of me,” you smile. “I’ve always wanted to be loved.”

“I remember,” Renjun says.

Your hand finds Renjun’s. You study the sight. With the dirt caked under Renjun’s fingernails and all the creases in your hands from the mashing and plucking of herbs from questionable places, you can hardly tell that you both experienced a royal life. Genuinely, it feels like it was a lifetime ago.

“There were times that I wanted to give up finding you, though. This is a big, wide world, and you could be anywhere. The rumors could have been right, and you could be on a boat to America, and I wouldn’t know better. My intuition could only tell me that you’re still alive.

“After seven years of being the Resistance’s little puppet, I was ready to find a purpose in my life again. As cliche as it might sound, my life had meaning when you were in it. Otherwise, I was always working for someone else, whether it was my father or Bong. This was the one thing I wanted to do in my lifetime.

“I had been wandering around for a while, visiting village after village, town after town, never staying too long. I wanted to settle down, but I was also attached to my mission to find you again. So I’d move on. Then your assistant found me. When I walked into this town, and then your house, it screamed of you. After all these years, I was finally sure of something.”

You’re silent for a long time after this monologue, processing every single word, racking your brain to say something, anything.

“The period of my life with you was the happiest. I wasn’t meant for the royal life, but having someone who felt the same way felt as though we were meant for each other. And then the Resistance happened. And then you saved me. You corrected one bad deed with one good deed. I don’t miss the old Ambrosia and my old life which is what made me able to forgive you after I escaped. I miss my parents sometimes, though. But if it wasn’t your family and the Resistance, it would have been something else — monarchies are growing out of style.” You chuckle.

Another silence between you two. You’re out of words to say to each other, enough of the small-talk. Without you realizing, you come closer to Renjun, closer and closer until your chests are pressed together, and you can smell Renjun’s breath. A thin layer of dirt and sweat cover his face, and you take your thumb to brush his cheek, making a visible mark on his face.

“I never thought I’d be in this moment with you, but the Universe is kind. I love you Y/N.” The fat tears falling from his eyes make tracks along his skin. You feel the stinging sensation of tears developing your eyes. You don’t realize how much you’ve suffered. Townspeople have tried to set you up with their sons, uncles, friends. But you’ve always rejected. At first it’s because you wanted to be a dedicated healer, and it would be difficult to do that with children. But now you know the real reason, and he’s standing in front of you.

Huang Renjun. He is the reason. Despite all that has happened, despite how he expedited the end of the Kingdom of Ambrosia, you loved him more than you ever realized. Enough that it seems like that love is about to burst. After all these years of being alone, you finally feel complete.

Grabbing Renjun’s cheeks, you pull him impossibly closer to you, letting your lips land on his and suck his dry, parched lips, but you don’t care. Renjun grabs your waist as he kisses you back.

Your breaths hitting each other’s noses, you finally pull away, your noses touching, as if your bodies can’t bear to be apart any longer.

You were finally going to have your happy ending.

tagging: @peachjaem00 @infnteen @zennymeow-blog @shwizhies

a/n (2): if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! as my longest fic yet, i've spent countless hours on this fic, and i'm glad to publish the final results. i hope you found this fic enjoyable, and let me know what you thought in the comments or in an ask :3

#of course the tags didnt work the first time #nct #renjun #huang renjun #nct angst #nct smut #nct fluff #renjun fluff #renjun scenarios #renjun angst #renjun imagines #nct imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #renjun smut

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sincerelyneo · 19 days

Text

birthday | h.rj

“so cover your eyes, i have a surprise”

💿now playing: birthday by katy perry

❯ summary: It’s your boyfriend’s first birthday with you. Too bad he’s too stubborn to tell you what he wants, leaving you to take matters into your own hands. Still, you’re certain the little blue set you have at the back of your closet will be just the perfect present for him.

❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff.

❯ words: 5.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, lingerie, birthday sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), slight begging, praising, heavy petting, reader uses she/her pronouns, renjun calls reader his girl, renjun is very smitten, reader dresses up for renjun’s birthday.

a/n: i’m in the process of going through my old google docs to find my old fics and repost them.

“Could you please stop being so stubborn?!”

It’s the twelfth time this week you’ve asked Renjun what he wanted for his birthday. You’ve asked the boy so much you swear you’ve had this argument in every part of your house: the living room, the bedroom, the dining room, and even the bathroom. But today, your boyfriend is adamant he doesn’t want anything in the kitchen.

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” you huff, folding your arms across your chest and pressing your weight against the island. “You had no problem telling Chenle and Mark what you wanted, why are you giving me a hard time?”

Renjun chuckles to himself as he starts placing last night’s leftover pizza in the microwave.

You’re right — he knows you’re right — and he thinks about how willing he was to tell Mark about the new expensive shoes he had seen and needed to have.

“This isn’t funny!” You groan.

“Baby, I’ve told you a thousand times, you don’t need to get me anything,” he finishes twiddling the dial before turning around and pressing his arms against the counter behind him.

You notice the way the arm muscles, that his short-sleeved t-shirt was exposing, tense and the way his veins become more prominent. He always looks so hot in the morning, hair dishevelled and eyes droopy from staying up all night just to fuck you. And you swear, if you weren’t so goddamn mad at him right now you’d fall to your knees instantly and fumble with his pyjama bottoms.

“But I just want to treat you, Jun,” you whine, bouncing a little in distress. Renjun sucks a breath between his teeth as his eyes flick to your boobs.

He pushes himself off the counter and pulls you into a big bear hug, he was good at giving those, and the two of you always knew the minute he engulfs you in them you become putty in his hands.

“You spoil me enough already by being my girl,” he presses a soft kiss to your hair and you almost melt — but then you remember, this is the twelfth time he’s played this tactic to avoid this conversation — and you were sure as hell not letting him whither out of it once again.

You untangle his arms from your sides and watch him smirk as they fall. This is usually the part where you kiss his nose and tell him to stop being so cute, but not today — you’re pissed.

“I’m not falling for it this time, Huang,” you shove your hands on your hips, “so quit playing around and just tell me what you want.”

He huffs, “Baby, do we have to do this now, it’s early.”

“Yes, we’re doing this now! You’re not getting any younger!”

He rolls his eyes. He just doesn’t get it. Why can’t you understand that he doesn’t want you to spend your money on him? He didn’t need you to pamper him with expensive gifts just to know that you love him. He already knows that — you make it very clear to him when you're screaming his name. He finds it ironic actually, that you’re the one calling him stubborn yet you won’t give up on this. And that’s when he gets his idea.

“I know what I want-”. Your eyes light up with joy the minute he says it. “-I want you to stop asking me what I want. Now that would be the best present to date,” and now they’re dimming.

“You’re impossible, you know that?!”

“It’s all a part of my charm,” he winks.

The microwave beeps and Renjun lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls out the hot plate. He takes a bite, mouth full and says,

“I know you’re not gonna drop this, so we’ll finish this after my pizza.”

Then he saunters past you and into the living room.

You in fact did not finish that conversation after Renjun’s pizza. You did try, but your boyfriend was great at nuzzling into your neck and gripping your thighs tight enough to distract you.

So now, you’re standing here, in your kitchen, on his birthday, trying to make him breakfast as a last minute surprise. It was a small but possible gesture considering he had not given you anything to work with.

Renjun stumbles out of the kitchen half asleep, hair all over the place with his sweatpants hanging off his hips. He rubs his eyes, wincing at the shriek of the smoke alarm that had woken him up.

The sight he found in front of him was you, standing on top of the kitchen counter, frantically waving a dish towel at the smoke alarm to get it to stop. You’re covered in flour from trying to make pancakes from scratch, smoke steaming from the frying pan.

When the screeching does stop, you blow out a heavy frustrated sigh dropping your hands to your side noticing Renjun. He’s standing there, leaning against the door frame with a wide grin plastered on his face; looking from you to the kitchen that looks like a bomb exploded in it.

"What's all this?" he asks, eyes lit up to match the amused look on his face.

You give him a sheepish smile. Gesturing to the plate of black pancakes on the bench across from him.

"Uhm... Happy Birthday?"

“Ah, so you finally decided on a birthday present.”

“Yeah, but I think I’ve ruined whatever it was supposed to be.”

The two of you look down at the ruined breakfast. You’re embarrassed but he’s so sweet about it, and still offers to eat the pancakes. You tell him not to, unless he wanted this birthday to be his last.

He comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around and pressing into you so you have to land your hands on the island counter in front. He nestles in against your ear.

“Thanks for trying though.”

You look up at him over your shoulder, “Don’t underestimate me, Huang. There’s more.”

“More?” His eyebrow quirks.

You nod and grab his hand to lead him into the living room. He follows suit, eventually flopping down on the leather sofa.

“You didn’t have to do all this, Y/N.”

“Shhh,” you dismiss him, "just no peeking, okay?”

"I would never.”

Renjun can't see, he's sitting there with his hands pressed against his face.

You’re honestly starting to regret this whole thing. This wasn’t even your idea but it was Haechan’s suggestion to surprise your boyfriend with lingerie. Well, not exactly lingerie, he just told you to do ‘something sexy for him,’ and this was what you landed on.

Calling Haechan was a last resort, you were in a moment of crisis and panic about only having a week left to whip up your boyfriend a present. You were hoping your boyfriend may have mentioned something to his friends — but he hadn’t — so alas here you are.

You’re saving this for last though. For now, you have his actual wrapped present for him to open, and you’re just praying he likes it. It’s hard to buy presents for a man who has almost everything.

You set the wrapped present on the coffee table in front of him, and move to sit next to him, adjusting the black silk robe you put on this morning to hide his real surprise underneath.

"Okay, you can look,” you finally tell him, watching his hands drop faster than you can blink but his eyes immediately get caught by the black smooth material riding up your skin. He starts raking his gaze over your thighs before bringing it to your face.

The black pupils in his eyes expand inside the brown, a slow pleased form of excitement tugging his mouth up at the corner to flash his teeth.

You’re anxious to see what he thinks of his gift, you just want him to unwrap it already so you can see his reaction.

"Open your present," you whine at him taking too long.

But Renjun’s more impatient than you. His fingers starting to toy with the drawstring of the robe around your waist, trying to tug at the knot there with a pout.

"But I want this one.”

You push his eager hands away and he huffs, shoulders slumping as his gaze goes to the table with his bottom lip pushed out.

"I’m sure you do," you tease, reaching over to pick up his present wrapped in patterned blue paper.

"It’s sort of a silly present, but I thought you might like it,” you explain, watching him trace his fingers over the wrapping paper with an amused smile.

"I kinda don't wanna open it... it's wrapped so pretty.”

"Please open it — the suspense is killing me.”

His frantic skilled fingers discard the paper next to him as he tore it away. He then picks up the small leather book in his lap that's now exposed. A bright, albeit kind of confused laugh bursts from him as he looks.

“Flick through it,” you instruct, and he does.

You bite your lip, watching him inspect it. It’s a scrapbook you managed to put together last minute. “Some of the pages are blank, figured we could fill it out together as we do more things.”

"I love it" he butts in, looking at you with a grin as he keeps flicking through it.

He leans over to kiss you, but you press your finger against his lips to halt him, watching his brows twitch together as his lips pucker against your finger, "We went over this at Christmas, open your presents first or we'll be here all night — you can have a kiss once you're done."

In response to your rules, he slams the scrapbook closed, dropping it on the table. Then you’re being grabbed and yanked towards him so fast that you fumble into his lap. His hand grabs your thigh to hoist it up over him, so your knees sit on either side of his hips.

Everything is so fast; you barely have time to register it. His large hands are grasping at your jaw, while his fingers splay against your cheek until he's pushing his mouth against yours with a force that knocks oxygen clean out of you.

He's sucking in quick broken breaths through his nose, putting everything into the kiss that's harsh and tender all at once. His hands slip from your jaw into your hair, pulling you closer to him so your hands rest against his chest and you fist at the fabric.

He tears his mouth away for the briefest moment. You’re staring at each other with eyes red and glossy.

“So I take it you liked it?” you ask with a bite of your lip.

He shakes his head while smiling before tugging you forward again. His tongue delving back past your lips, “Of course I fucking like it.”

His hands drop from your hair to grope over your waist and hips to hold you against him. You haven’t even gotten to your last present for him yet and he’s already crippling with desire.

Renjun keeps his mouth hovering close to yours,

"Like? No like isn’t the right word — it's not good enough," he manages between kisses, "I love it, I love you.”

"It’s not that amazing," you hush him as he paws at your back and tries to connect your mouths again.

“Yes, it is, because you made it."

You hate (love) the way he’s always so sweet and reassuring. You know he does it for your reaction, to tease you and make your cheeks turn red. So, you try to escape him before he gets the chance to make a snarky remark about the blush on your cheeks.

But attempting to lift yourself off of him causes him to immediately protest, digging his fingers into your skin through the silk as he tries to move his face to your neck to attack there instead.

You push at his chest, and he whines a pathetic sound that has your skin tingling, "Don't tease me baby please, don't be mean. It’s my birthday.”

"I'm not trying to tease you,” you shake your head, pulling back and shuffling off of him, but he won’t let you.

After a long battle, you mange to unclamp his stubborn hands while he stares at you with desperate puzzled eyes.

"Then stop moving and come here,” he tries to reach for you to pull you back down but you step away, moving further from the couch.

His gaze darts from your feet to your face, wetting his lips while watching you intensely. You see him take his bottom lip between his teeth when you move your hands to the knot at the front of your robe and slowly start to slip it undone.

His eyes flash wider and his fingers grip tighter around his knees where he's sat with his legs spread wide. You can feel nerves buzzing in your body, taking a coaxing breath as you lock your eyes with his.

"You ready to open your last present?"

The anticipation in the air is palpable, it's enough to have your fingers trembling with the way Renjun’s suspenseful gaze keeps locking on you. But the thing that’s making your heart surge the most is the emotion behind his eyes.

You never do things like this. At least, you haven’t with Renjun. And even though he tells you every day that you’re so beautiful and so perfect, you can’t help but feel your nerves tighten.

"You gonna show me what's under there?” Renjun encourages in a slow voice, full of rasp. You watch his chest jump with a breath when you grip the edges of the robe to pull it open.

He notices you hesitate, and his brows twitch together as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "Don't be nervous, ever. Not with me."

You compose yourself with his encouragement. But you still hold your breath as you let the robe start to slip from your shoulders, the silky fabric inching down as you open it until it hits the floor. Your heart hammers with every bit of skin being revealed as you stand there in a set of blue lingerie.

It's like time stops. Renjun hasn't so much as taken a breath, eyes frozen on you, darting everywhere at once.

You start to tense up, but then he lets out a breath. He clears his throat a few times and opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out; he just sits there with his mouth ajar. You glance up at him, feeling your heart accelerate and blood rush to your cheeks. On the other hand, it looks like Renjun’s brain has completely short-circuited.

Harnessing a surge of confidence from his reaction, you take a few steps to close the gap between the two of you. His eyes stay transfixed as they trace over every inch of blue decorating your body. You’re standing between his spread legs, and he falls back against the backrest of the couch with a slight thud.

"Do you like it?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet.

"I - I, uh..." He swallows, then blinks once, twice, and then closes his eyes shaking his head like he can't concentrate, "Uh - fuck, I..."

"Everything okay, Jun?" You suppress a smile and watch as he takes a deep breath when his eyes drift open, and he smooths his hair away from his forehead.

"No, I'm not - what the fuck are you trying to do to me...baby," he stumbles over his words, taking you in with another once over like he can't believe it. Then he brings his hands up to hover near your hips. "So, this is what you finally came up with?"

You chew on your lip, face feeling hot from how flattered you feel over his reaction. You’re not sure what you expected, but you didn't expect him to be this well... stunned.

"I wanted to give you the best birthday,” you murmur, “so yeah, I bought it for you."

He breathes like the oxygen was kicked out of him, reaching for your hands and pulling you towards him until you’re perching a knee on either side of his hips and resting your limbs on his shoulders.

His hands hover near your hips again and trace down over your thighs, but he doesn't touch them — not yet anyway.

"I don't even think I deserve to touch you in this."

"Don’t say that. Haechan thought this would be a good idea," you tell him, feeling his hands finally settle on your thighs and watching his eyes flash wider as his jaw clenches.

Yep. That was the total wrong thing to say to him right now.

You wait for Renjun to blow a blood vessel in his forehead, but instead, his eyes go down to your cleavage under the blue mesh of your bra and he takes in a slow breath.

"This is what she talks to my friends about?" he mutters to himself, and you try so hard not to crack a smile.

His gaze drifts up to yours again, and he swallows; moving his hands up your thighs to feel his palms over the straps and garters enriching your skin before his jaw softens.

"Well... look at it this way" you coax him, keeping your tone gentle whilst you smooth your hands over his shoulders to rest against his neck, "You're the only one that gets to take this off of me.”

Your words have your boyfriend lifting his brows, and sucking his lower lip under his teeth and that old bothered look melts away to a much more pleased one, "Just me?"

"Only you," you nod, feeling his fingers press harder into the skin of your hips when he rests his hands there.

"Forever?"

“Always.”

He wets his lips, leaning in more so your noses nearly touch and his rough voice whispers into the air between you, "Can I tell you a secret?"

You can only manage a nod, chest tight from how the atmosphere feels like it's strangling you. There is such an intense feeling, because he's looking at you with hungry eyes that also look flooded with heart crippling love.

His hands move from your hips to trace his fingertips up your back, “You’re the first girl who’s ever done something like this for me.”

He trails off to brush his nose against yours, before nudging it against your cheek and keeping his lips just out of reach. You feel your eyes start to burn, that lump lodging in your throat as you exhale a shaky breath.

"I’m so fucking obsessed with you, Y/N. You just wouldn’t believe it," his fingers ghost back down your back, and he keeps his stare on yours.

"Please shut up and kiss me," you burst your words out in a single breath, gripping the sides of his neck to tug him towards you and connect with his lips.

It's like a rupture of pressure as soon as your mouths touch, and Renjun sucks in a sharp gasp through his nose; attacking your lips with his in a kiss that's desperate and frantic.

His hands go straight to your now bare ass, that's only covered by two measly straps of the lingerie, and grips it. He starts hoisting you up, your arms clinging around his shoulders as tight as your thighs wrap around his hips. He blindly makes his way towards your bedroom, trying his hardest not to trip over his own feet or walk into something with you around him.

Both of your lungs are trying to suck in the air but become nothing but a ball of gasps and pants mixed with shaky breaths and trembling limbs.

He manages to make it into your dim bedroom when he urges your thighs down until your feet hit the ground and he's the one that drops down to sit on the edge of the bed. You stand in front of him, weak at the knees and cloudy in the brain with blood rushing through your body like fire.

Renjun stares up at you, his cheeks tinted with the flush that's crept down his neck to match the cherry colour of his raw lips. You move towards him. It’s like you have a magnet in your chest tugging at you with all its force to get you closer to him.

"Turn for me. I wanna get a proper look at you — see how lucky I am,” he rasps out of breath, and the deep gravelly sound leaving him makes your spine shiver.

His hands on your hips urge you to spin around. You’re not sure how your legs are able to withstand it considering how jelly-like they feel.

"I’m the luckiest man alive...God fuckin help me,” he whispers to himself and you can’t help but allow your whole body to erupt in goosebumps when his eyes burn into every part of your skin.

He’s lust drunk on you.

Renjun’s hands come up, going to the blue material hiding your chest from him. He begins letting his fingers follow the edges of it, teasing his digits over your perked nipples. He continues going down and repeating his brushing over the garter belt and panties, taking in each detail like he never wants to forget it.

"I kinda don't wanna open it... you're wrapped so pretty," he murmurs, looking up to catch your eyes and mimicking his earlier words.

Your hands are shaking from the tension in the air. His knuckles graze against the front of your underwear, making your breath hitch in your throat. He drags his tongue across his lower lip, sliding his palms down the front of your thighs.

“I don’t think I have enough words to thank you for today. But I think I can show you.”

You can't take this anymore, and before you can think twice you rush forward, leaning down to grasp his face and clamber on top of him. You kiss him as hard as you can, the force making him fall backwards as his shoulders hit the mattress with a bounce.

He only gives you a few seconds before he's flipping you. Climbing over you and ushering you further up the bed. When his lips detach from yours, Renjun pushes himself up onto his knees to look down at you perched between his legs.

His chest is heaving, hair all over the place with random strands dangling in front of his forehead. He moves his hands to throw off his t-shirt. You get drunk off the sight of him when he focuses on getting his pyjama bottoms off.

He drops forward as soon as his legs are free, his large hands dipping into the bed next to your waist with your legs bent on either side of his shoulders. He turns his head to leave a trail of heated wet open kisses up your skin that makes your centre throb.

Every action feels heightened, so intense but gentle. His movements are heated but careful like he's trying to fuck your heart but love your body at the same time.

Your hands move to his hair, stroking through it as he moves his mouth to your other thigh, paying it the same attention. You gasp when he takes the strap from your garter between his teeth to let it snap back against your skin.

"Jun please..." you sigh in a wavering breath.

"Okay baby" he hushes against your skin, moving his hands to grip the hem of your underwear sitting over the top of the garter, "Gonna be so good to you. Make you feel how I do."

You hold your breath when you feel him gently start to tug it down your hips. His eyes focus on his hands dragging the material down your thighs like he's savouring the moment. Then he’s sitting up on his knees again to lift your legs and remove your underwear completely.

He dangles the blue fabric on his fingertip, raising a cheeky brow at you, "Think I might keep these."

"Don't you dare,” you burst out laughing, swatting at his hand as he giggles to himself.

He drops the underwear next to you on the bed, moving his hands to slip under your back. You arch to help him while he feels around and uses his fingers to unclasp your bra. His gaze is admiring, watching it slip off your arms.

"Definitely keeping this too.”

You roll your eyes, grinning to yourself. But that smile is quickly wiped away when his eyes lock on your face and one hand takes your thigh to push it against the bed and spread your legs further apart. He drags his fingers up your slit; tracing through the warmth and arousal that had already soaked into the fabric he'd since removed.

Your mouth falls open at the same time his brows pinch hard together, his jaw clenched as he lets his gaze momentarily flick down to his fingers exploring your cunt.

Your hips buck up when he focuses his fingertips against the sensitive nerves, making you feel like your clit has its own heartbeat as jolts of pleasure shoot through you. Renjun leans forward to rest his hand next to your head, dipping his mouth down to latch it around your nipple, nipping and sucking against it.

"Oh-, fuck,” you hiss curving your chest up as your hips start to squirm. He traces slow lazy patterns against your clit, "Renjun - please, don't tease me - just, fuck I need—"

Your words are cut short when he applies more pressure to your nerves, massaging leg-numbing patterns against you while his teeth give your nipple a gentle tug before he moves to the other one to pay it the same attention. You gasp at the cold air that hits the bud.

"Tell me how it feels," he mumbles against your flesh when he moves his mouth to drag his lips between your cleavage, "I wanna know how you feel right now, tell me."

Like your vagina is about to scream in agony if he doesn’t hurry up and fuck you.

"S-So good," you manage to pant out, squeezing your eyes closed as your hips rut against his fingers when he dips them down to slip through your dripping centre to tease at your hole. "It’s amazing b-but I'm going to explode if you keep teas-"

Renjun shakes his head, flicking his eyes up to stare at you under his lashes when he licks a wet stripe up between your breasts.

“No, I wanna know how you feel-" his lips press against the skin over your heart, "-tell me how you feel about me."

You choke on a moan when he dips his fingers down inside your pussy at your silence, sinking his middle and ring finger deep as his hot forehead drops against your chest.

"Tell me,” He groans, voice low dropping deeper as he relishes your gripping around his fingers, "please."

"I feel- it feels like - uh, god I feel —" you whimper when he curls his fingers, massaging inside of you at that pressure point that makes your stomach quiver. "I l-love y-you."

It comes out as rambling. You’re stuttering like a mindless lunatic — but the one thing you're sure of is that it’s the truth.

Your barely coherent words make Renjun still his fingers, sucking in a heavy broken breath when he lifts his face to seal his mouth against yours. His hand grabs hold of your thigh to hook it around his hip as he shifts closer until you feel the weight of his warm length heavy against your pubic bone.

"I fucking love you too," he pants out against your lips, his voice thick and strained, "So fucking much I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop."

You roll your hips up against him, threading your fingers into his hair, "I don’t want you to ever stop — I want you to fuck me, please fuck me."

The tight knot in your lower half feels like torture at this point as his fingers are still working slow. He hushes you when he sees the distraught look on your face and hears the muffled whines from you as his motions become very still.

"Shhhh," his hips lift back as his hand wraps around the base of his length. He teases it up and down your drenched folds, "I'm not gonna stop - I just - I don't wanna fuck you... it's not the right word. It's more than that. Need you to feel that it’s more than that.”

He applies pressure with his tip against your pussy, holding his weight up on his elbow next to you so he can tilt his head up and watch your face. His heavy glazed eyes locked on yours with his brows hooded over them.

"Please keep looking at me."

You fight to stop your eyes from fluttering shut, staying captivated by the way his pink lips part and the way they twitch to verbalise a silent moan when he inches forward a fraction to feel his tip slip past the threshold and into you.

Your brows are scrunched together in pleasure, fighting to keep your hips still as the moment feels paralysing.

He pushes forward in a slow savouring motion. When he finally sinks into you completely, you stretch around him. His teeth suck in his lower lip between them, while a low skin-tingling moan echoes from deep in his chest as he stays still.

"Wrap your legs around me - I wanna be closer."

You do as he asks, tightening your thighs around his hips and resting the heels of your feet against his own thighs. You feel him sink even deeper and you watch the veins in his neck strain at the feeling.

"Please move" you beg, barely able to get the whisper out.

Renjun struggles to keep his breathing even as he watches your face, slowly drawing his hips back, wrecking you as he rolls his hips forward in a motion to fill you again.

Your fingers tighten in his hair when your hips come up to meet his. He starts in a slow drawn-out rhythm, panting out a soft groan.

Your eyes threaten to drift closed again, the blissful feeling enveloping all of your limbs too much to stay conscious. Renjun ducks his face down, attaching his mouth to yours and you moan into the kiss which elicits a stomach-knotting whine from him.

Before you know what's going on, Renjun is rolling you, turning on his side with you facing him and taking hold of your leg to hook it over his hips. His other arm wraps under your waist and around your back. His hand reaches between you, grasping his length and placing it at your opening before he thrusts into you again making you cry out at the feeling from this angle.

He keeps you hugged close to him, connecting you with him in long deep strokes while his hand comes up to tangle in your hair and he presses his forehead against yours.

"Stay with me" he pleads, "Keep looking at me. Look at how you make me feel."

You can only respond with a gasp that hitches in your throat when he buries himself into you as deep as he can, rolling himself against you as your nails dig into the skin of his back.

His hand slips from your hair for a brief moment, to reach and grab for your hand which he guides down to the spot between your legs. You take the hint; letting your fingers find your throbbing clit and work towards unravelling the tightness in your abdomen.

"Oh- god, shit,” you whimper, shocked by the combination of all the sensations consuming your body. Your hips start to writhe at the feeling.

"That's it baby - you make me feel so fuckin good, I want you to feel it too," he pants, forehead slick with sweat while both your bodies feel like they're burning and his thrusts start to build with more purpose. He’s fucking into you at an erotic speed as if he's trying to spill out every feeling he has with his body.

Your stomach starts to tremble as warmth floods your lower half, and your muscles start to contract and flutter around him. It only encourages him to slow down the rhythm to drag out the feeling to a point you don't know how to handle.

You can feel him being swallowed inside of you with each thrust as your fingers slip down to where you’re joined. You toy with your clit helping your body reach a point where it’s trembling over the edge.

Renjun finally caves, moving his face to bury against your neck, when your walls contract around him and your hips roll with his.

"Fuck, Y/N".

His breathing gets even more ragged as every muscle in his body becomes tense with his movements. He begs muffled words against your skin; tightening his arm around you like he somehow needs you closer.

"Tell me you love me again.”

You manage to stutter out a breathless "I love you,” heaving out the air in your lungs as you work your fingers faster and Renjun fucks you further in love with him — if that’s possible.

"No, say you love me. Say my name, Y/N," he groans, pulling his hips back only to thrust them forward so deep you cry out.

You rack your nails down his skin while your leg tightens around his hip to pull him closer.

“I love you, Renjun. So fucking much.”

His thrusts become more abrupt at your words. "That's my girl" he rasps.

When he feels you tipping over the edge his thrusts quicken at animalistic speed. "Go on baby - cum - let me feel it."

You couldn't stop it even if you tried — you wouldn’t.

You let out a scream from the back of your throat at the force of him and chant out a string of mumbles of his name. Your body convulses and shakes whilst you clamp around his length to which Renjun grunts at the feeling, whispering praises to coax you through it.

"Always so good for me — fuck!" His sentence gets cut short with a loud growl that sounds like it was punched out of him. His rhythm falters as he clings to you and sobs out moans against your neck.

He snaps his hips forward and sinks into you to grind his hips against you to linger in the feeling. His muscles shuddering and jolting as he gasps for air and his own orgasm punches into him.

Hearing and feeling him in so much bliss is only dragging out the aftershocks of your own orgasm. You’re both a mess of limbs and shameless noises before you feel him still completely. His release erupts into you in warm spurts, his body twitching with each one.

You’re like a limp puddle, but Renjun stays clung to you, sucking in harsh breaths not daring to move and keeping your sweaty bodies tangled.

"Fuck, if not knowing what I want for my birthday means I get to have you like this, I never want anything ever again," he rasps, laughing under his breath and sounding delirious.

You can only hum in response, your mind too fucked out to even respond.

You lay wrapped up in each other, and you know you need to get cleaned up, but you honestly can't be bothered. Enjoying the post-orgasmic pleasure too much.

"Happy fucking birthday to me!” he drawls, finally letting his face fall flush against the pillow.

#renjun smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #renjun x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #renjun scenarios #nct scenarios

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minhyeong · 5 months

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NCT DREAM + MORE SIMPLE DATES !

[ mark ]

making tiramisu at home when neither of you know what you're doing and only have some vague instructions that he downloaded off the internet

the apron he wears does a poor job at protecting his clothes because he still ends up getting cream and sugar everywhere

all the “dude (affectionate), just trust me” and you, in fact, do not trust him when he looks so messy that even his eyebrows are covered in powder

the tiramisu ends up tasting spicy because he didn't look at the label and dumped in chili powder instead of cocoa powder

you have to fight to keep a straight face and tell him it tastes fine when you take the first bite because how could you say no when he’s looking at you with puppy eyes

[ renjun ]

curling up in the blanket after a shower and having him blow dry your hair when you had a long day

tenderly runs his fingers through your hair to detangle everything and gives you the gentlest scalp massage

hums in acknowledgment as he carefully listens to you rant about everything that annoyed you throughout the day and offers to beat up that one person who really got on your nerves

pulls the blanket back up when it starts to slip off your shoulder and bundles you up until you can barely move your arms

soothingly pats your head with a soft smile when he sees you looking drowsy by the time your hair is all dry and lays your head on his lap so you can comfortably finish talking about your day

[ jeno ]

eating cereal on the kitchen floor half awake at some ungodly hour because you couldn't go back to sleep and he didn't want you to eat alone

you thought you were quiet when you inched out of bed and tiptoed to the kitchen but he's a light sleeper, sensed you moving, and trailed right after you

he never questions you and just takes a seat right next to you on the floor, happily nodding when you sheepishly ask if he would like some cereal too

you randomly propose a toast and clink your bowl with his before taking a sip of the milk, and he simply follows along

holds your hand and rubs your back as the sun rises, and you realize you couldn’t be more grateful for him

[ haechan ]

having him squeeze behind you into the limited space on your chair and cling onto you like a koala when you're just trying to finish your work

swears he won’t distract you and just wants to be with you (it’s a lie) and even offers to help you complete your work when he doesn’t even know what you’re doing

doesn’t do much at first and stays so stay that you actually find the gentle drum of his heart against your back calming

but then he gets bored after a few moments and roughly digs his nose into your neck until you’re shoving his head away

somehow persuades you into taking a short break but never actually allows you to return to the task because he can’t possibly let go once he has your full attention

[ jaemin ]

unboxing and testing the various lip balm samples that you got in the mail to see which one you should actually invest in

is somehow even more excited than you are and leans in so close that you can barely see the box because he’s hovering right above it

the look of disgust on his face is unmistakable when he sees the strawberry lip balm in the package and makes you pinky promise to never use that one

steals a kiss from you when you try the coffee lip balm and sends your brain short circuiting and heart reeling

he somehow ends up with even glossier, smoother lips than you do after he goes through every single one and decides the coffee one is indeed his favorite

[ chenle ]

helping him clean out his overflowing closet but it turns into a 'which piece of clothing is going into your collection next' search instead

lets you be his personal stylist and pick out outfits that he models for you with a little twirl

thinks you look cute in every single shirt of his you try on, and his cute aggression flares up a few times where he propels himself forward and knocks the wind out of you in a bear hug

when you confess that you've stolen a few of his hoodies, he just knowingly nods and laughs because he has definitely left them behind at your place on purpose

you're wearing about eight layers of clothes and dragging three huge bags of things from his closet home with you by the end

[ jisung ]

making beaded jewelry while binging your favorite movies in a questionable pillow fort that looks like it's seconds away from collapsing

he meticulously measures your wrist to get the perfect length and vows to make you the coolest bracelet ever

gets so focused on trying to loop the string through the beads that he hasn't been paying attention to the movies at all because he wants it to be perfect

but then he spills everything and all the blankets come crashing down when he frantically scrambles to salvage the bracelet and accidentally rams his body into the structure

it's impossible to locate every little bead so it feels like you're stepping on legos for the next three days when they keep on randomly popping up under your feet (10/10 would still do it again)

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct headcanons #mark scenarios #renjun scenarios #jeno scenarios #haechan scenarios #jaemin scenarios #chenle scenarios #jisung scenarios

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diorcities · 21 days

Text

⠀ ⠀ ── ᰥ ๋ 🚀 ̯࣪ ⭒ playing videogames together !

nct dream sfw headcanon. fluff, crack. so late for the hype only up had a couple of months ago but anywayyy. cleaning my drafts. mdni. library.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: only up — haechan.

jokes on you just for thinking you were going to remotely get near his pc, because this is a gameplay. he gets cocky pretty quick when he's playing. “don't worry, sweetheart. you get to play when i lose,” he'd say with an arrogant tone; he never loses. he also whines your name because you get in the way.

he'd probably brag about finishing the game in record time just to impress you.

he's a pain in the ass, honestly; his game nights sum up to him playing and you watching him play which you don't mind that much since you get to snuggle with him on his gaming chair. the truth is that he likes to annoy you, but he does it with love; after all, his computer is full of games he has downloaded just because he knows they are your favorites.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: bread and fred — mark.

“yo, i almost got it!” he'd take his head in his hands, sullen. “mark! oh, my god!” constant yelling at each other but on the inside you love each other. you think you're having a good time but the truth is mark's about to burst into flames; he's the worst gaming pal ever, but it's okay because you love him. “babe, c'mon, focus.” he gets so sulky sometimes.

a lot of nervous laughter when he messes up. would suggest playing spiderman because he's sure he'd be good in that one although there is some chance that he might be terrible at that too. pouts a lot and blames himself, causing you to stop the game and comfort him; just as he planned.

his exclamations would make the moment enjoyable and fun even if you have more defeats than victories.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: detroit become human — jisung.

so chill and cozy when playing games. jisung is so the opposite of haechan; video game afternoons with him are calm and peaceful. “you forgot a clue earlier, babe.” the best playmate in the world. mainly because he only wants to cuddle with his pretty girl, and since you're always moving around with episodes of hyperactivity, he found playing was the only way you'd stay still.

his hands innocently rubbing your tummy would make you lose your concentration. you won't be so happy with it, “ji, we're in a serious business right now, hello?” and it would end up with him nervously laughing on your neck “i swear i'm not doing it on purpose.” (he's in fact, doing it on purpose). actively participates in what is happening so he can be forgiven for being a puckish goofball.

he comments a lot during your gameplay and gives you advice on what to do when you need help.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: call of duty — chenle.

it's all laugh until it doesn't. i mean, take this seriously or receive a silent treatment. he's pretty chill until the team starts to lose, so you better man up. “no more funsies, bon bon,” he'd say before teaching you some 101, prayers for you to learn fast. this is a job, a lifestyle, like a life or death situation; he can't let ningning know she's better than you under any circumstances, he'll teach you to be a pro if that means rewarding you with kisses when you do well.

he's the scariest of all. full concentration. even the way he speaks becomes severe. if you happen to be nervous about disappointing him and he notices it, he'd pause the game to make sure you're okay, and probably joke about how bad you are at it.

“that's my girl!” kisses between victories “don't get used to it, tho” he doesn't want to spoil you. but... if it keeps you motivated, sure he will.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: ds games — jaemin.

more a watcher than a player. he likes to listen to you rant about a game you played when you were younger. it's so relaxing hearing your voice he falls asleep while you're talking. “oh, did i fall asleep? i was just resting my eyes.” “jae, you were snoring...” try to fix it with guilt tripping you because your voice's calm, yada, yada, “can you blame me, angel?” afternoons with him are peaceful, laying on his bed while you play cooking games and naming pokemons like they're your pets.

it becomes fun because he's very bad even at games that don't have difficulty levels. you're surprised at how bad he is, but you actually find it cute that he at least tries it for you.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: dayz — jeno.

he knows you're not good at it so he takes it pretty chill. the most understanding boyfriend, although it annoys you a little that he doesn't have competitiveness; he just wants to find a hobby that both of you like. friendly matches even when you guys lose on the battle royale cause you both suck. “gosh, not even two minutes in and we're out...” he teaches you how to play but it's only an excuse for you to sit on his lap while you're at it. he, in fact, chose it because he thought you would get scared of the zombies and would cuddle with him.

he's the one who suggests kisses between victories... and then suggests it every time you run into a zombie. he's the type to get obsessed with a game you recommend him so he can impress you when you play it together.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: mario party — renjun.

you're his known enemy. no friendly matches here, like for real. this is a win or a-win situation. the type who would do the silent treatment if you allowed yourself to lose to haechan. pushing the buttons furiously as if it actually did something, and putting all his energy into making body motions into the games as if it adds points if he's extra. “you're laughing?” “no, honey.” you are. he looks bite-sized and makes all this fuss.

you actually envy his passion. he's the best option when playing in pairs because he's the mastermind. making all the strategy moves. any ounce of shame when he takes your game controller and plays for you. it's not even funny anymore, but in renjun we trust.

#nct dream headcanons #nct dream fluff #nct dream soft hours #nct dream reaction #haechan scenarios #mark scenarios #renjun scenarios #park jisung scenarios #chenle scenarios #jeno scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct dream fluff headcanons #♡dream

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haetrack · 3 months

Text

[03:23]

renjun x afab!reader

warnings: smut, renjun has a wet dream about you, handjob

you’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. you’re groggy, and you don’t even know why you’re awake. it’s not until you feel movement behind you, hips pushing against your backside that you realize what’s going on.

renjun is grinding against you in his sleep.

the realization causes you to still, body stiffening up. he continues his movements, and you can feel his warm breath at the back of your neck. you can feel his hands slowly making their way to your hips, a tight hold beginning to form.

you’re not really sure what to do. he’s been your best friend for quite some time, never really outright telling you that he likes you. you have to ignore how haechan tries to quickly tell you something about how renjun feels before renjun covers haechan’s mouth with a hand.

there’s a small suspicion of his feelings towards you at the back of your head. you can’t say you don’t feel the same way, you’ve always taken a liking to him, always arguing together with a smile on his face.

even if you know how you both feel, you don’t know what to do with him like this. you can feel how warm he is behind you, how your shorts have ridden up, how you can feel his hard cock in the confines of his shorts.

there was never a problem like this before. well- not really a problem, but more of a situation like this. all the times you’ve slept in the same bed together, he would try to argue against it, eventually giving up because “he can’t be bothered arguing with you.”

his grip on you is getting tighter, his cock grinding harder into your ass, quick pants against your neck. you’re beginning to feel it, too. you can feel yourself getting wet, but all you can do is squeeze your thighs together, hoping to get any stimulation.

it’s not until you hear a soft moan of your name that you decide to wake him up. you shakily pull away from him, a quiet groan leaving him as he loses the friction against him. you can properly see his face now, eyebrows furrowed and his lips in a frown.

you whisper out his name, and nothing. if you look down, you can see how his cock is twitching against his shorts. you place a hand on his shoulder and shake him lightly. to no avail, you do it once more while calling out to him.

you can feel his body wake up under your touch, stretching before he groans out loud. you watch nervously as he tries to wake up, wondering what exactly is going on.

he’s not sure why he’s awake right now, but he knows you called him and he knows it’s too early. he realizes how hot he feels, sweat at the back of his neck, wondering why he feels so gross.

it’s not until he feels himself throbbing in his shorts that he realizes what’s happening. he feels mortified. he’s hard in front of his best friend, who, not to mention, he likes. he wonders if you noticed, maybe he can just play if off and walk to your bathroom.

“renjun…” you start, and he immediately feels embarrassed, can’t help how his cock twitches at you calling his name. “i woke up and i felt you… against me…”

it’s quiet in your room save for the heavy breaths coming out of the two of you. “so you.. was i…” he breathes, not really knowing what else to say.

you nod, “yeah… you were-”

“don’t even say it. i’ll just- i’ll just go to your restroom or something,” he grumbles, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “just go back to sleep. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

before he can move away, you grab his arm, holding him in place. he shuts his eyes, refusing to look at your pretty face. “don’t go… i can help you? if you want?”

“no! i mean, no, i just… i can take of it myself. i didn’t mean for you to see me like this.” he says trailing off at the end. the thought of you helping him get off only affecting him more than he wants it to.

“please? wanna help you, you felt so nice against me, wanna feel more.” he can’t help but shudder at your words. it’s not that he doesn’t want you to help him, but he’s still fighting how embarrassed he is at the fact that he was humping his best friend in his sleep.

when he lets out a small groan, he agrees. you’re both facing each other, and in the darkness of the night, he can still see the soft smile on your face. you look nice in the hint of moonlight in your room, and he realizes that this is you he’s doing this with, you put him at ease.

your hand trails up his thigh, feeling around the soft skin before you make your way to the tight front of his shorts. his hand grabs onto your wrist before you shake him off, scolding him with your eyes. you grip his clothed cock, feeling around his length.

he moans out at your touch, already sensitive with how he was grinding against you earlier. your thumb traces his clothed tip, his hips bucking into your hand. his eyes shut again, the feeling too much for him to handle.

your hand inches to the waistband of his shorts, your hand now fully wrapped around his length. it feels so different than his own hand, so much better than what he could’ve imagined. when your hand starts moving against him, he can’t help the small moan that escapes him.

“what is it, renjun?” you say a little breathlessly.

“just feels so- fuck, good. your hand feels good.” he groans out, rushing his words out of embarrassment. it’s easy for your hand to move around his cock, the precum from his dream helping your movements. renjun can hear the slight squelch of you jerking him off, shoving his face further into the pillows.

he hates how quickly he feels like he’s about to cum. he hates how he can see your thighs squeezing together, turned on by the sight of him. he hates how badly he wants to kiss you right now.

you see how hard he’s staring at your lips, his mouth panting, almost pleading you to reach forward. you do, and renjun cups your face in his hands, deepening the kiss. you kiss each other slowly, exploring each other for the first time. while this is happening, renjun’s hips move against your hand on their own, fueled by your soft mouth.

“i’m so close. please don’t stop, oh my god.” he can hear your airy laugh, his hands moving to grip on your sides for support.

you kiss the side of his cheek, “please cum for me… wanna see you cum.”

he lets out a choked moan of your name, moving to kiss you messily as his hips buck against your hand rapidly. his body’s tired with the over exertion he’s put on it so early. it doesn’t matter though, not when you’re squeezing your hand over his length.

it’s not until you whimper out his name and rub your thumb over his slit that he cums. he’s letting out small moans and whimpers mixed up with your name. cum spills out of his tip, cock throbbing in your hold as you help him ride out his orgasm.

you laugh as he lets out an embarrassed groan, hiding his face into the pillow, “i can’t believe i did that in front of you, that’s so stupid. i’m so stupid.”

“i really liked seeing you like that, if it makes you feel better. i’m like, drenched through my panties.”

it doesn’t make him feel any better. he’s filled with the thought of your wet folds, how good you’d feel around his fingers. all because of him. he looks at your face, desperation all over.

through his embarrassment, he grumbles out, “can i… help you with that?”

a/n: don’t ask me what this was. i don’t know… i really don’t… fastest renjun thought i’ve ever had… im just gonna say it’s a little gift for 100 followers YAYYY 🫂❤️

#renjun smut #renjun x reader #renjun scenarios #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct hard hours #nct fic

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hcaeh · 3 months

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nct dream as love tropes : p2

mark : renjun : jeno : haechan : jaemin : chenle : jisung

childhood best friends — h.rj 🦊ྀི

#nct dream #nct #renjun #nct renjun #nct dream fake texts #nct fake texts #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct smau #nct dream smau #renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #hcaeh

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 6 months

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[10:04 am]

Renjun hated waking you up. You looked so peaceful asleep, even when you had drool dried on your cheek. He hated to be the one to shake your shoulder and have you startle awake. And it was like that anytime anything interrupted your sleep, your alarm going off, a shake of the shoulder, Renjun calling your name quietly. Every single time, without a doubt, you’d wake up like you just heard someone screaming your name at the top of your lungs or heard a storm alarm blaring. But more than he hated waking you up, was spending so much time alone when it could very well be spent with you.

Today was a day that Renjun finally had free and he had already been up for two and a half hours. He spent one hour in bed hoping that the following minute would result in you waking up like a character straight out of a Disney movie. The following hour resulted in Renjun eating breakfast and drinking a coffee keeping an ear out for rustling sheets or the sound of footsteps.

After the next half hour, Renjun stopped being patient. He turned on the air conditioner to a temperature that you would really only use on the hottest days of summer. A temperature that was very much not needed now that it was cooling down to the fresher fall weather, especially in the mornings. Then he snuck back into the room and slowly tugged the blankets away from you. Any move you made would mean the blankets would no longer do their job of keeping you warm and covered up.

He tiptoed back to the living room and wrapped himself up in a warm blanket and his steaming hot cup of coffee. Any minute now you would be waking up and seeking his warmth, he felt himself getting excited at the thought of your sleepy cuddles.

Sure enough within 10 minutes of the air being cranked down and the blankets being stolen from you, you were quickly making your way to Renjun. You pulled the blanket from him and jumped on top of him before you pulled the blanket over the both of you. He had to school his face so as to not appear too excited to have roused you from your sleep.

“So cold this morning Jun,” he heard you mutter into his chest as you nuzzled as close as you could. God, you were so cute it was nearly impossible to keep his smile at bay.

He didn't even try to fight it when your freezing hands slithered beneath the back of his shirt to warm them, not even when they eventually came up to steal the still steaming mug of coffee from his hands.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and let his lips linger there while he mumbled quietly about how cute and needy you were when you were so sleepy in the mornings.

Then the damned air conditioner had to kick on right as he said that. Renjun closed his eyes in frustration as your head perked up at the sound and feeling of the now cooler room.

"Did you turn on the air?" you questioned. Renjun merely hummed in response, acting like he hadn't heard you, so you repeated yourself and got the same response.

"I know you can hear me Renjun. Did you turn on the air?" You questioned again, no longer laying on his chest but rather leaning up to make eye contact.

His voice raised in pitch to a whine, "Baby, I didn't want to wake you up! I was getting so lonely without you."

You huffed out a laugh before you went on about how turning on the air was a waste of money, "and don't think to even call me needy again when you're sneaking around and messing with me to get me to wake up. I mean, seriously, when have I ever slept so crazy that every piece of fabric on the bed ends up on the floor?"

He paled, he thought he had gotten away with that one. "I love you?" he offered in response.

"That's not always going to get you out of your messes, but I love you too. Now, go turn off the air and bring me my coffee how I like it," you replied with a sickly sweet smile.

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #renjun imagines #renjun fluff #renjun x reader #renjun blurbs #renjun timestamps #Renjun Scenarios

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jishyucks · 4 months

Text

Happy Holidays! The Universe Hates Me. — hrj

‣ pairing: huang renjun x reader

‣ genre: fluff, academic-rivals-to-(implied)lovers, forced proximity, kinda slice-of-life

‣ wc: 3.7k

‣ summary: You don’t hate many things, but you could proudly say that you hate snow and Huang Renjun. And now that the universe has decided that it was a great idea to have you snowed in with the smartass himself, you’ll gladly add the universe to that list.

‣ warnings: slightly one-sided rivalry (more so Renjun’s developed feelings before reader so he’s acting on it before reader even gets what they’re feeling), the pair eat some cup ramen, set in that weird period where they dk how they feel

‣ an: I rly thought this was going to be easy to write but sike (⊙_⊙) ig its bc its basically e2l and these r difficult to write,, I was excited to write Renjun's but idk if I did my own idea justice,, anyways I hope it's still a fun read!

Series Masterlist

You’ve never been so nervous for a final in your life.

Sure, you didn’t find the content difficult, nor did you feel lost. Hell, if you were asked to explain the content with no aids, you can confidently do it.

The only reason why you were so nervous for a damn final was because you knew that Huang Renjun was going to do better than you. Why? You’re not sure. But you had this gut feeling that his name was going to be listed right above yours on that stupid list and you were not going to let that happen.

“You need to go home soon, okay?” Karina frowns. She’s all bundled up, a scarf tightly wrapped over her face to shield her from Jack Frost. She knows how much of a workaholic you were, especially when it came to Renjun, “It’s getting late. It’s already dark out and there’s no one else here. Text me when you get home.”

You nod, “I will, I promise. I’ll just finish this last lesson and then I’ll leave. I’m hungry, anyway.”

Her stern expression softens underneath her scarf and she teasingly ruffles your hair, “Talk to you later, honeybun.”

You wave and watch her leave before turning back to the scattered papers in front of you, your laptop burning holes in your eyes because you’ve been staring at it for way longer than a physician’s recommendation. The final was on physics, something that wasn’t your strongest suit. It was probably because the way your teachers decided to word the questions on exams screwed you over—but then again, you couldn’t blame your struggles on that.

Maybe you did just suck at physics.

Your eyes scanned the lesson you were currently studying, quietly reading it under your breath so that you could process the information—critical threshold… velocity… laminar to turbulent… fluid and momentum… the dissipation of energy…

“Ughhhh!”

Your heart drops to your stomach, eyes almost slipping out of their sockets at the sound of another person groaning. You clearly remember Karina just saying that there wasn’t anyone else here.

Then who in the actual fuck…

Your mind jumps to conclusions and thinks up the worst-case scenario. It could be a ghost… were you Scrooge and the ghosts here to visit you? No fucking way… you loved Christmas… Or it could be a murderer. But what kind of murderer groans before he reaches his target?

Using this as an excuse to procrastinate, you quietly push your chair away from the table and stand up. You can recall that the groaning echoed from the back of the library, so you begin making your way down to the back of the room. Your attempt to keep your footsteps quiet, barely lifting them off from the ground.

You guess you were making your way in the correct direction because now you can hear the sound of muffled music. You suppose it was coming out of the other person’s headphones.

As you approach the end of one of the aisles of books, you bend over and peek through the cracks between the books. Your eyes betray you, not focusing on the figure sitting at one of the tables because the books are in the way. Leaning closer, you squint to get a better look at the figure studying, head bopping to the music blaring through their headphones.

Who is that?

When your eyes finally adjust, you curse under your breath.

Personally, you would rather it be a murderer on the other side of the shelf.

Because Huang Renjun of all people? Here? With you? Did the universe hate you or something?

You let out a faint groan, squeezing your eyes before you go to turn back to your table.

Of course, Huang Renjun would be here and studying late. There’s a small tiny part of you that wasn’t even surprised that Renjun was the only other person at school at this hour. There was a reason why you felt like he was seriously going to do better than you on this physics final. He worked for it despite being naturally intelligent.

“Fucking Huang Renjun,” you gently let your forehead fall forward, making a gentle thud against the table. Fucking Huang Renjun because, suddenly, you no longer feel hungry and you now desperately wanted to finish a week’s worth of content before leaving. Sure the idea was immature—doing all this for some guy who thought he was smarter than everyone else—but you couldn’t help it. This was how it’s been since junior high.

And old habits die hard, right?

For the next 2 hours, you push yourself to study for the stupid final, eyes straining as you continuously shift them between your laptop screen and your papers. And you say push yourself because now that you had the knowledge that Renjun was sitting metres away from you, you somehow could not focus for the life of you. It was like he had cast some spell on you to do anything but focus on physics.

You groan. You have been reading the same paragraph on boundary layers for the past ten minutes, hyper-aware of Renjun. The words blur together, and you become hyper-aware of Renjun's presence nearby. Despite your efforts, your mind wanders, and occasional stolen glances in his direction betray your attempts at concentration.

With an irritated sigh, you shake your head, attempting to bring yourself back to the task at hand. Why the fuck is Renjun occupying so much of your headspace?

Feeling defeated, you reach forward, roughly shutting your laptop closed before you begin bunching your papers up together. Not a single fibre in your body even cared if it was organized or not—that was for you to worry about later—because you just wanted out of here and away from Renjun before he completely plagues your mind.

Finally, you throw your bag over your shoulder and begin making your way out of the library.

Meanwhile, Renjun, who was managing well with his work catches sight of your figure leaving, winter coat zipped up to your nose.

“Wait, Y/N!”

You turn back to find Renjun pushing his seat back, getting up to make his way towards you.

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. You continue making your way out of the room, ignoring Renjun’s calls for you to stop.

The mature response would be to, well, stop and listen, but after Renjun just indirectly wasted 2 hours of your life trying to absorb some information on physics, you didn’t want anything to do with him. You just wanted to go home and eat, before you pull another all-nighter to make up for the lost time.

“Y/N!”

You were jogging now, treating the situation like Renjun was some kind of monster coming after you. It was odd that Renjun was keeping up with you, tailing you like he was one of those salesmen trying to get you to try a sample of their product.

You’re relieved when you see the front doors of the school ahead of you, streetlights illuminating through the small half-windows. You feel your feet pick up its pace, eager to finally get out of the building and get fresh air.

“Y/N!” Renjun’s out of breath, “You can’t leave!” He reaches out and quickly grabs your wrist. The contact causes shivers to run up your arm and you’re quick to pull your limb back.

Brows furrowed, you sent him daggers through your glare, “And why not?”

Renjun fishes his phone out from his hoodie pocket and he holds it up despite you not being close enough to see anything on it, “The news. All the roads are closed. No cars on the roads. We’re stuck in here until they say everything’s clear.”

“You’re lying.” Your stubborn ass refuses to believe Renjun.

Renjun huffs, “Just check it for your fucking self if you don’t want to believe me.” His arms crossed and he pushes all his weight onto one leg.

Reluctant to look stupid, you slowly pull your own phone out. You realize that you actually haven’t looked at any notifications lately, all your focus directed toward studying. When you finally look at your phone, you’re met with tens of notifications, both from the news app and a handful from your family members and friends, mainly Karina, who are asking if you’re going home soon or if you’ve gone home because of the news the city sent out about the roads.

“And why didn’t you leave?” you say awkwardly, “When they sent the warnings out?”

Renjun swallows his spit, “I didn’t see any of them either. I was too caught up with studying.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you mutter. The realization of the situation starts to sink in—you're trapped at school, possibly overnight, and your only company is Huang Renjun, the boy who’s decided to make himself the bane of your existence. Then, you find yourself teetering between relief that you're not alone and frustration that you're stuck with Huang Renjun of all people.

Your eyes flicker at Renjun, who’s waiting for you to say something to him. And you do, “This is all your fault!”

Renjun’s mouth falls open slightly, the space in between his eyebrows wrinkling at your accusation, “How the hell is this my fault? I didn’t tell the damn city to close the roads!” Renjun holds himself back from raising his voice, but the emptiness of the halls causes it to bounce off the walls.

“If I hadn’t seen you studying and being the overachiever you are, I would have gone home earlier,” you argue back. The second it slips from your lips, you realize how stupid you actually sound—but you don’t say anything. Without saying another word, you push past Renjun intending to return your spot in the library.

Renjun, however, isn't one to let things slide. He follows you back into the library, his frustration evident in the tight set of his jaw. "So, it's my fault you chose to stay? That you didn’t see the notifications?”

You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, not slowing your pace. "I chose to stay because of you! Trying too hard being a model student."

Despite it being pretty clear that the argument was childish and that it was going nowhere, you and Renjun were far too stubborn to back down.

Renjun scoffs, catching up to you. "Trying too hard!? I study because I take my education seriously. Maybe if you put in half the effort I do, you wouldn't be lagging behind."

"Oh, spare me, Renjun.” Your blood boils at his condescending tone, whirling around to face him and eyes ablaze with frustration. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

This is where you can see Renjun physically falter. The stress in his brows goes slack and there’s a shift in his expression, “Insufferable? Y/N I—”

"Whatever, Renjun. I really don’t want to speak to you right now.” You roll your eyes and turn your back on him, “Now, If you’ll excuse me, I have a fucking final to study for.”

Ignoring his attempts to keep the conversation alive, you make your way back to your table, your anger simmering in your chest. Renjun watches you go, a mixture of annoyance and something else in his eyes.

The library becomes a battleground of silent tension, each of you (mostly you) seething in your own space.

You set your table back up the way it previously was. Then, you quickly send your friends and family texts explaining what had happened and why you weren’t home by now.

You attempt to start where you left off, the words Boundary Layers practically taunting you at this point. The phrase is pissing you off and you’ve read it enough times for you to be able to recite the sentence from the textbook perfectly.

Wave interference, you read, eyes blinking at the screen—something about paths intersecting and creating new patterns of unity… discord…

You let your eyes do the rest of the scanning, not exactly absorbing any of the material before you move on. At this point, you feel like not studying entirely. Besides, you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind to be absorbing material.

The clock at the front of the library reads 8:28 and you feel like taking a nap is the best idea right now. It’ll help you cool off, pull you back in the right headspace and perhaps help you with the all-nighter you’ll probably pull tonight.

Twisting your body, you pull your jacket off of your chair, folding it to create a makeshift pillow. Sliding your things aside, you place the pillow in front of you and shimmy your butt back against the chair before leaning forward to rest your head against it. In all honesty, it wasn’t the most comfortable place to rest your head, but it will have to do for now.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The shuffling of feet and the clattering of objects woke you from your nap.

You don’t move, nor do you open your eyes, all you do is listen to try and figure out what the hell is going on. Through the fabric of your jacket, you can hear that Renjun is moving things around on your table and you can’t help but feel your anger shoot up.

You keep your cool on the outside, pretending to stir in your sleep before you peek through half-opened eyelids.

You’d honestly find this part funny if you were watching a drama. But the thing was, you weren’t watching a drama. And it was anything but funny.

Slowly, you raise your head to get a better look at what Renjun was up to, fully expecting him to be messing with your belongings. You guess you were doing your job correctly because Renjun seems to not have noticed you looking at him.

The scene (you embarrassingly admit) warms a piece of your heart just by a little bit—and you hate that it does.

Renjun’s trying to keep your papers organized, stacking them horizontally and then vertically to keep them grouped in the stacks you already had them in. He had even moved your laptop to a safer spot, off to the side.

The reason why he was doing all this was sitting just across the table from you and to Renjun’s left.

Two cups of instant ramen.

“What are you doing?'' Your voice comes out more hoarse than you’d like, but it was probably because you’ve been napping for what felt like an hour or two.

Renjun freezes, lips parting slightly and eyes growing two times its size when he realizes that you’re awake. Sure, he would have had to wake you up sooner or later, but you waking up on your own wasn’t part of his plan. He should’ve done all this a bit quieter.

“I…” He starts. Renjun gulps and pulls back, wringing his hands through sweater paws.

You wait for him to give you a coherent reply, looking at him in hopes of forcing one out of him.

Renjun’s at a loss for words, afraid that you wouldn’t quite get him if he explained his reasoning. He leans over and wraps his hand around one of the noodle cups, gently sliding it toward you.

You blink at the steaming cup in front of you, caught between annoyance and a peculiar sense of gratitude. "Are you trying to make this situation bearable or something?"

“Well it wouldn’t be fair competition if only I was able to eat, would it?” Renjun shrugs. From his hoodie pocket, Renjun pulls out a plastic fork wrapped in tissue, one he had probably taken from the cafeteria, and places it next to your cup of noodles, “Eat.”

You blink at the noodles and eye the boy suspiciously, “You didn’t do anything to it, did you?” You mistrustfully pull the fork toward you, unwrapping it before you dip it into the soup.

“Of course not… I’m not evil.” A scoff shoots out through Renjun’s nose.

Renjun pulls out a chair from your table, taking a seat before pulling his own cup of noodles toward him.

Your eyes linger on Renjun for a moment longer, contemplating whether or not you should believe him. Eventually, hunger wins over skepticism, and you take a cautious bite of the noodles. They taste surprisingly good, given the circumstances.

For a while, there's a strange quiet as both of you focus on your meal. The only sounds are the occasional slurps and the storm outside rattling the windows. It's a bizarre scene, you and Renjun sharing instant ramen in the middle of the night, trapped at school. Who would have thought?

As you dig into your food, you start feeling a shift in your mood. The annoyance from being woken up slowly turns into a grudging acknowledgement that Renjun tried to make things a bit less crappy. It's kind of funny when you think about it. You two had a small argument earlier, and now here you are, quietly sharing a meal. It's like an unspoken agreement, maybe a truce, even if neither of you is ready to admit it out loud.

Meanwhile, Renjun seems engrossed in his noodles, occasionally glancing in your direction as if gauging your reaction to the impromptu meal. He looks like he wants to say something, but he’s not choosing to do so despite the tension that is usually present in your interactions being strangely minimal.

Finally, you break the silence. "Where did you get the noodles?"

He looks at you, brows raising at your willingness to start a conversation. "It’s not my first time staying past dinner. I have a stash in my locker."

“Not surprised,” you mumble. You pick the cup up and bring the rim up to your lips. Tipping your head back, you take sips of the soup, feeling the warmth of the fluids fall into your stomach like a hug.

“Oh, shut up,” Renjun groans, “Or else I’ll take the noodles back.”

“Lucky for me,” you look at him and laugh, “I’m finished.” When you plop the fork back into the cup, it makes that noise you hear when you scratch the cardboard.

Renjun hums. "Well then, I guess you owe me one. After all, you're enjoying the hospitality of my secret noodle stash."

You roll your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance, but there's a glint of amusement in your eyes. Of course, Renjun would take this opportunity to gain something for himself. It was such a Renjun move. It’s always been like this. "I could've survived just fine without your instant noodles."

He chuckles, taking the last slurp of his own noodles before he deems himself finished, too. "And yet, you still ate it all up like a starved puppy.”

There’s a beat of silence before you lean forward, resting your head on your propped arm, “I guess I should say thank you, huh?”

Renjun grins and you only notice it because it’s more evident in his eyes than it was on his lips. He was seemingly pleased with your acknowledgment, but he quickly covered it up with a nonchalant shrug, "Don't mention it.” His voice comes out soft, mirroring the setting, “If you passed out from hunger under my watch, wouldn’t want that tainting my ‘model student’ image.”

You give him a side-eye, feeling the sudden need to tease him, “Don’t lie, Huang Renjun, you secretly care about me.” The statement was mostly a joke, so you think nothing of it. You stack your empty cup onto Renjun’s and stand up to throw it out. You don’t notice the way Renjun freezes in his seat for half a second.

“And what if I did?” Renjun shrugs. He gulps and feels the sudden need to flee the situation—Why did he say that?

You turn to face him, surprised by his response. Renjun's casual demeanour, though slightly defensive, holds a hint of genuineness. It's a side of him you're not used to seeing, and it catches you off guard.

"What if you did what?" you ask, feigning ignorance to see if Renjun would elaborate. A part of you is afraid of what he’s going to say.

“What if I did care about you?” Renjun’s playing with the corner of one of your papers, creating a sound that fills the silence between the two of you, “I don’t hate you as a person, you know… I get that we always compete in grades and extracurriculars but… I don’t hate you as a person.”

The confession makes your heart skip a beat and you catch yourself beginning to chew on your bottom lip, something you do when you’re nervous. The unexpected sincerity in his words causes you to halt your own, a momentary pause in your banter. You've grown used to the constant back-and-forth, the verbal sparring that characterizes your interactions with Renjun. This, however, feels different.

"You're messing with me, right?" you reply, half expecting him to smirk and dismiss the entire conversation as a joke.

“What do you think?” Renjun retorts.

You take a moment to think everything through. You have a good feeling Renjun’s not joking, that he really doesn’t hate you as a person, and you can’t help but think about the other possibilities of what this meant. Then you think about how you feel towards Renjun because you guess you at least owed him that.

“You don’t need to say anything now,” Renjun assures, “It’s… confusing. Even I'm still figuring things out… I just know that I don’t hate you.”

"You're not as insufferable as I claim you are,” you begin cautiously, “But it pisses me off that you both distract and motivate me when it comes to school.” And this was true. Today was a good example of that, though you weren’t entirely sure where these stem from.

Renjun raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. "I'll take that as a compliment.”

You roll your eyes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, Renjun. I’m just saying—” “—Saying that you like me more than you think you do?” Renjun interrupts, “I know, I know.”

Your eyes narrow at Renjun, “You wish.”

A moment of understanding passes between you, and for the first time, the competitiveness in your dynamic softens. It's not yet a friendship, but it's a recognition that there's more to each other than the constant rivalry.

Renjun laughs, which transitions into a yawn. He acknowledges your comment with a hum, “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up in a bit so I can study?”

You playfully roll your eyes, a small smile lingering on your lips.

“Well it wouldn’t be fair competition if I didn’t, would it?”

tags: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: the next few parts of the series might be posted a day late (until Felix,, but we'll see!). Next up is Jisung which I feel like will be ADORABLE. ty for taking the time to read! I would love to hear your thoughts even if its something short! hope you enjoyed it!

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prettyrenjunn · 25 days

Text

you belong with me

huang renjun x f!reader

2. dilf

ybwm masterlist

#nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagine #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct smau #nct dream smau #renjun scenarios #renjun x reader #renjun fic #renjun fluff #renjun fanfic #renjun #nct x reader #nct dream social media au #nct dream x reader #nct dream fic

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tyonfs · 2 years

Text

high-waisted shorts

❝ i noticed you staring at my ass earlier, by the way. do you want me to get my shorts out of the way so you can get a better look? ❞

PAIRING ▸ huang renjun x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, strangers to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, one night stand trope, fingering, palming, oral (fem. receiving), more oral (m. receiving), choking, raw sex (pls use protection), in this society we make important decisions with rock paper scissors, copious amounts of anime references, ft. jaemin, hyuck, and jeno tormenting poor renjun

SUMMARY ▸ huang renjun might be the least committed to all this “bitch hunting” bullshit, and he doesn’t want to stoop to the level of stupidity his friends are at. that’s why he’s pissed when you’re strutting around in those high waisted shorts wherever you go, making renjun lose all sense of reason.

PLAYLIST ▸ like by bts • cravin by danileigh, g-eazy • 23 by chase atlantic • sparkle by radwimps

WORD COUNT ▸ 7,850 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ first installment of the bitch hunters series !! wrote this while i was angry bc my discord got hacked and i was furiously typing LOL but hope u enjoy ♡

THE FIRST TIME HUANG RENJUN LAID EYES ON YOU, HE FELT LIKE A SINNER.

He wasn’t religious by any means, but some force in the universe had to be frowning down on Renjun for the way he was staring at your ass. His housemate, Donghyuck, had thrown a party at their house for the sole purpose of meeting new girls, and Renjun found this whole thing absolutely ridiculous. His roommates were dead-set on finding a girlfriend this year, and they had taken it to the extent of creating a contract to detail the rules of their “bitch hunting.”

On the other hand, Renjun thought he could find love naturally, so he wasn’t too keen on indulging himself tonight.

However, looking at the way your shorts were riding up whenever you jutted out your hip, Renjun felt like he could let go for a night.

It had been ages since he hooked up with someone. The last time was probably during his second year of college. For his third year, he was committed to just passing his classes and trying to figure out what the fuck he was going to do with his life. Now that Renjun was in the final stretch, he supposed he could take it easy on himself and get his dick wet.

“You’re drooling.” Renjun looked over to fellow bitch hunter Na Jaemin smirking at him, handing him a red solo cup with a shot of tequila (or, more like a shot and a half because Jaemin sucked at measuring drinks). His best friend slash housemate added, “Go talk to her.”

“What?” Renjun asked, startled. “No, no, I’m not trying to hook up with someone.”

“I said talk,” Jaemin reminded. “You’re the one who said hook up.”

Renjun balked. He stared at his triumphant-looking friend for a moment before downing the tequila in his cup. Warmth spread to his chest in seconds, and he was starting to feel the self-control in his brain fog over. Renjun liked the feeling of being drunk; it allowed him to stop caring about stupid things, like talking to pretty girls in high-waisted shorts.

“You know what,” he grumbled, “fine.”

But, sometimes, it also made him do stupid things, like walking over to talk to pretty girls in high-waisted shorts.

“Hey,” Renjun greeted when he approached you. You were standing alone at the kitchen counter for a while, eyeing all the drinks spread out. “Are you liking the party?”

You turned to him and shrugged. “I guess. My roommate brought me here, but I don’t know anyone except her, so it’s kinda awkward.”

“Who’s your roommate?”

You looked over your shoulder and pointed to a girl with short hair. “Minjeong. She knows Jeno, I think.”

Renjun snorted. He recalled Jeno and Minjeong having a thing for a brief period. Since the walls were rather thin and Jeno wasn’t exactly quiet, he vividly remembered the filthy words he heard from his housemate’s room. Renjun would routinely kick the wall to shut Jeno up. In fact, he was doing Minjeong a service by rescuing her from a man who played League of Legends.

But Renjun didn’t know Minjeong had a roommate—and a hot one at that. He regretted not encouraging Jeno’s hookup to come to more of their parties.

“Well, now you know me,” Renjun said and held his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Huang Renjun.”

You giggled and took his hand. Yours was so much smaller than his. Maybe Renjun was thinking too much about how nicely his hand fit with yours. Maybe he was taking too long to shake your hand.

He realized this once you started talking and he was still clutching on.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced, and the little glint in your eyes made Renjun wonder if you were charmed. That was a plus for him; Renjun wasn’t terrible with girls, but he never made such strong first impressions. “What brings you here, then?”

“I live here, actually,” Renjun answered with a grin. He noticed you glancing at his cup, so he set it down to pour a shot for you in another cup. “You’re at my party, and I have no choice but to socialize. My friends would probably drag me out of my room if I tried to ditch.” He held out the cup to you, and then paused. “You’re not a lightweight, are you?”

“Why would it matter if I’m a lightweight?” you asked with a coy smile, taking the cup in your hand.

Renjun shrugged. Maybe it was the liquid confidence spurring him to act bolder, but he could hardly believe the words that came out of his mouth next.

“Maybe I wanted to give you a room tour.”

To his surprise, you laughed, delighted. “A room tour?” you asked. “Sure, why not?” You set your cup down and grinned at him. “Also, I can handle my liquor just fine.”

Renjun lifted his brows, amused. He slid his hand into yours and led you to the staircase, a small smile playing on his lips. He hadn’t expected you to agree so easily, but perhaps you both were experiencing a surge of adrenaline that made you want to do anything and everything.

If Renjun was Jeno or Donghyuck, he would’ve had to ask you to wait outside for a minute. Thankfully, he didn’t live like a slob and wasn’t ashamed of his living conditions. He kept things neat and tidy, and the only thing he probably had to worry about was his lotion and tissue box being right next to each other.

He hoped you wouldn’t pick up on that detail, though.

“Nice room,” you complimented when he opened the door. You looked around curiously before walking in, and Renjun headed in after you. “Do you normally bring girls up here like this?”

“Only the cute ones,” Renjun said, leaning against his door frame. “Do you normally follow guys into their rooms like this?”

You shot back a knowing smirk. “Only the cute ones,” you echoed, and Renjun wondered if he had died and gone to heaven.

He wasn’t on his A-game right now. It had been years since Renjun got laid, and the only reason he was functioning in front of you was because the tequila made him a smidge less over-analytical about everything he said.

“I noticed you staring at my ass earlier, by the way,” you added shyly, even though nothing about you seemed the least bit shy. Renjun wished the ground would swallow him whole. Before he went on a tangent about how he respected women and their bodies and started to apologize profusely for making you uncomfortable, you walked right up to him and continued, “Do you want me to get my shorts out of the way so you can get a better look?”

Clearly the universe had monumental plans for his dick tonight.

Renjun swallowed thickly and shut the door with one hand immediately. The booming music from downstairs grew more muffled, and he returned his attention to you once he locked it.

He was presented with the opportunity of a lifetime, so he let his hormones take over and cupped your sex. Through your shorts.

Granted, the material was rather thick, but Renjun could feel your core pulsate through the fabric, and it drove him crazy.

“Fuck,” he growled when you started grinding your hips against his palm. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“More,” you begged, desperately rocking your hips to get as much friction as possible. Renjun smirked at how you clung onto him. “Want more.”

“Yeah, ‘course you do,” he mumbled, adding more pressure to his slow, torturous hand motions. Renjun walked you back so that the back of your knees were hitting the bed. “Can I take off your clothes?” You nodded in response but Renjun just grabbed your chin with his free hand and ordered, “Use your words, Y/N.”

You giggled a little, off-beat. “Go ahead,” you responded, looking at Renjun with newfound excitement.

Renjun’s lips found the junction of your neck and shoulder, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses as he undid the front of your shorts. It felt like ages since he had done something like this, but it felt so natural for Renjun to rub your dripping slit with two fingers. Slow, torturous motions of his fingers, and then you were whimpering and squirming under him, begging for him to put his fingers inside of you.

“Patience.” Renjun chuckled, tugging your shorts down until they were at your ankles. You arched your hips to help him take off your underwear along with it. The sight of your bare cunt made Renjun a weak man. “Holy fuck.”

His fingers returned to rub your slit, and when you were drenching Renjun’s fingers with your arousal, he decided it was high time for him to give you what you wanted. He made direct eye contact with you as he slid his fingers inside of you, and the way your breath hitched and face contorted made Renjun nearly lose it.

He hadn’t even put his fingers all the way in and your walls were clenching around him. Renjun fought down the groan that dared to slip—simply from how tight you were around his digits.

“Jesus,” he grunted out, “you’re gonna feel so good around me.”

“You’re gonna give it to me?” you asked in a breath, and your tone was bordering on hopefulness and surprise.

“Yeah, of course.” Renjun’s eyes darkened when he coupled his fingering by planting his thumb on your clit, relishing the broken moan that escaped your lips. He had to use his free hand to manhandle your hips firmly to the mattress.

“S-sorry,” you apologized, and Renjun could tell you were trying your best to stop yourself from bucking your hips. He decided there was a simpler method to go about this, so he pulled his fingers away and scooted back. You frowned and looked over at him before whining, “Why’d you st—oh.”

Renjun held your hips down so that he could lick a long stripe between your folds, flattening his tongue once he got to your clit. He smirked at your reaction, proceeding to eat you out like a starved man. Renjun relished each moan and whimper that fell from your lips, barely audible over the muffled, booming music from downstairs. He was sure their neighbors would call for a complaint sooner or later, but nothing could pull Renjun from the intoxicating taste of you.

His motions must have been hitting the right places because you were squirming so much that Renjun had to grip your thighs tighter to remind you to stay still. He returned one hand to rubbing your clit in a steady motion as he ate you out, and he was pleased with how reactive you were.

A tingling flush spread across Renjun’s cheeks when your back arched against his bed, and he sucked on your ball of nerves a little harsher to coax you into your orgasm.

Then, he changed his mind.

You gasped when he pulled back. “I was so close!”

Renjun nearly laughed at how offended you looked before explaining, “I wanna make you cum on my cock instead.”

“Your cock?”

Renjun hummed. He wasn’t trying to edge you, but while he was going down on you, bringing you closer and closer to your release, he realized he wanted to see the look in your eyes when he brought you to your orgasm. He wanted to see how you fell apart because of him.

Exasperated, you hurried to sit up and maneuvered to get over Renjun, straddling his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. Renjun didn’t intend to imply that he wanted you to ride him, but he was liking this turn of events more and more.

“Wow,” he got out in a breath, hands ghosting your body with an awestruck look on his face. “You’re gorgeous.”

Your reply, though, was blunt. “I want you to go raw.”

Renjun blinked at you for a second. At first, he was indifferent about it and just supposed you had cut out the extra step of getting a condom from his nightstand and sliding it on. Then, he realized how unbelievable this situation was—unbelievable and incredibly sexy.

“Are you sure?” he asked, although he was beaming at your words. “I mean, we just met.”

“As long as you don’t give me an STD, I’m down.” You drew Renjun closer and scooted up higher on his lap. “Plus, Plan B is only six dollars at the health center.”

“I’ll Venmo you three,” Renjun replied, dazed as you tugged his pants down and palmed his bulge. He stifled a groan, gripping your waist tighter. “Y/N—fuck.”

You had already rid of Renjun’s briefs, tracing the underside of his head once his cock sprang free. He found it awful how turned on he was by the way you eyed his size, so Renjun did the one thing that kept clouding his head and he pulled you into a fervent kiss, drinking the pink lemonade smirnoff right off your tongue.

Dizzying. Hazy. Intoxicating.

There was so much shuffling as Renjun kicked off his pants and underwear properly, adjusting his position so that you could ride him properly, but the both of you couldn’t pull away from each other’s lips.

“God,” Renjun growled out against your lips when you raised your hips to lower yourself onto his throbbing cock. He drank in the way your face contorted and your thighs twitched as you tried to take him in. After much easing and filthy words that Renjun whispered against your skin, you finally took him fully. “Good girl,” he praised, smirking at your whimper that followed his words.

He broke from the kiss to help you. Renjun held your hips firmly, guiding your movements so that you could ride him at a steady pace. He grunted at the way your walls clenched around him, and he was already so, so sensitive.

“You’re h-huge,” you stuttered, screwing your eyes shut when Renjun’s hand moved up your body, caressing each curve and dip. “Oh my god.”

His hand moved up to grope your tits through your shirt, and before he tried to slip his hands under your shirt, he slid his hand further up to choke you instead. Renjun was delighted at how you sped up when he pressed lightly against the sides of your neck.

You placed your hand over his, much like someone admiring a diamond necklace would. Your back arched as you continued bouncing on his cock, your head thrown back with moans trapped in your throat. Renjun was a little disappointed that he couldn’t freely let you be loud, but watching you hold it in might have been even better.

Renjun’s breathing was ragged when he drew you close yet again, and though you looked fucked-out, you seemed to understand right away that all he wanted was to taste your lips again. Renjun kissed you with hunger, driving his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours in a desperate union.

“C-close,” you mumbled between kisses, and Renjun only smirked and deepened the kiss. Some twisted part of him wanted to keep you quiet against his lips as you came undone.

He fucked up into you as your motions became less coordinated and sloppy. Renjun’s heartbeat was drumming in his ear when he witnessed you fall into your orgasm, your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock so fast that he came into you right after. His grip on your neck tightened ever-so-slightly when you dared to moan louder, yet it only seemed to turn you on even more.

He pulled back and leaned against the headboard, absolutely spent. Renjun helped you off his cock, groaning at the sight of his cum leaking out of you.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Renjun said, wondering if you’d mind if he played with your clit for a while. He ended up doing so, and it was strangely domestic by how casual you were about it.

“Can I sleep over?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes, and god, Renjun couldn’t refuse you when you were giving him those eyes.

“Need a shirt?” he offered.

“Yes, please.”

When Renjun woke up the next morning, you were gone, as expected. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, trying to figure out where the fuck his shirt was. Eventually, he gave up on his search and threw on a sweater that was strewn over the head of his chair.

There was an acrylic nail laying on the pillow next to Renjun. He snorted at the sight. Cinderella left her glass slipper behind for the prince; you left your acrylic nail.

He chucked it in the trash, deciding that he would rather get rid of the nail instead of making you feel embarrassed for letting it get caught on the fabric. Maybe he was a little upset that you hadn’t even left a note behind, but it wasn’t like Renjun was expecting to meet the one at a house party. Hell, he wasn’t even as dedicated to his housemates’ “bitch hunting” antics as they were.

He trudged downstairs to make himself a bowl of cereal. Renjun forgot how tiring sex was, though the post-orgasm haze was always nice to bask in. Coupled with drinking last night, though, he craved something to scarf down so that he could regain a sense of his bearings.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Donghyuck greeted. He was sipping a cup of coffee next to Jeno in the kitchen. “Jaemin told us that you were getting some last night.”

Renjun grimaced. He recalled how he could never keep his hookups private because someone would snitch on him to the rest of his housemates. This invasiveness was something he never got used to.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered vaguely. “I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”

“Is she not cuffing material?” Jeno asked. “C’mon, you can’t be fucking around when we’re supposed to be getting girlfriends.”

Rich coming from the guy who screwed your roommate.

Renjun grabbed his Frosted Flakes from the shelf and opened the other cupboard to get a bowl. He promptly ignored Jeno so that he wouldn’t let some crucial information about your identity slip. He would’ve rather kept you on the down-low, so that his housemates wouldn’t mess with the both of you.

The last time Renjun had a crush on a girl, it resulted in both him and Kim Yerim being incessantly teased. Jaemin did everything in his power to make sure Yerim’s bottle landed on Renjun when they played Spin the Bottle at a party in freshman year. He even to the extent of shoving Jeno out of the way so that the bottle was closer to Renjun.

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck started, “Y/N seems like girlfriend-material to me.”

Well, that secret lasted for all but five seconds.

The shock must have shown on his face because Jeno burst out laughing immediately, Donghyuck following suit and slapping Jeno’s arm playfully. Renjun shook his head and returned to pouring his milk and cereal in the bowl, trying to ignore how obnoxious his friends were.

Keyword: trying.

“Ow!” Jeno winced when Renjun jabbed his side.

“Dude, for real, though,” Donghyuck started, “we’ll help you out if you really like her.”

“Don’t make it such a big deal.” Renjun tried to wave it off with a dismissive hand gesture, and his friends shrugged in response. “I don’t even know her that well.”

“You don’t want to get to know her?”

Did Renjun want to know more about you? Well, he was probably addicted to the taste of your lips and the way you looked underneath him, but he hadn’t had too many conversations with you to gauge whether he was interested in more. However, the way you looked in those high-waisted shorts did make him a touch curious about seeing you again.

“Nah,” Renjun lied coolly. “Forget it.”

Renjun couldn’t get you out of his fucking head.

Well, it was pretty hard to do so when he discovered you sat right in front of him in his aerospace thermodynamics class.

In those damn high-waisted shorts.

It was another pair this time—white with the hem fringed. Renjun couldn’t even focus on the lecture about the Carnot Cycle when he kept getting vivid flashbacks to the previous night. Your lips dragging across his skin. His hands traveling up and down your body. Your nails digging into his back.

“... and those will be your pairings for the final project. Please come see me if you have any further questions, otherwise refer to the module,” Renjun’s professor finished.

He snapped out of whatever trance he was in to look up at the screen. Renjun scanned the document the professor had pulled up with a list of names, running down until he saw his name right next to yours.

This had to be a joke. It was something straight out of a movie. Some shitty rom-com where the two main characters slowly fell into a pure relationship through a forced partnership, but there was nothing that was pure between you and Renjun after what had happened last night.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Renjun muttered under his breath, nearly gasping when you whipped your head around to look at him questionably. “Oh. Hey.” He raised a brow before stupidly asking, “You come here often?”

“I’m a student here, so yeah,” you answered.

Figured.

You continued, “We’re partners.”

“We are,” Renjun confirmed, “so we’re gonna be working together for a while.”

A slow grin spread across your face, making Renjun swallow thickly. Your eyes shone with a mischievous glint, and your gaze dropped a little before drifting back up to look Renjun in the eye.

“I look forward to working with you, partner.”

“Yeah.” Renjun coughed a little. “Me too… partner.”

The first time you and Renjun met up to “work together” after exchanging numbers was exactly a week later. It wasn’t very productive, to say the least. You offered to start it at your place, and Renjun realized this was probably a bad idea, but it had to be 0.1% better than working at his house, so he obliged.

He realized that he had no idea what the project was even on until he was sitting in your living room, looking over your shoulder to see the project guidelines pulled up on your laptop.

“Which one of these do you wanna do?” you asked. “My concentration is aeronautics so I’m leaning toward the cooling method design one.”

“I’m astronautics.” Renjun snorted. “I like the jet propulsion one.”

Renjun and you stared at each other for a minute. He wasn’t sure how to diffuse this tension; he could kiss you, but the fire in your eyes made it clear that this was competitive tension, not sexual tension. Then, you held out your hand in front of you, balling it into a fist and placing it in the palm of your other hand.

“Let’s rock, paper, scissors this,” you decided.

Renjun raised a brow. “You’re using rock, paper, scissors to decide the outcome of our final grade in a major class?” he asked, and when you nodded, he shrugged. “Alright, let’s do it.”

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”

1 Renjun, 0 Y/N.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”

2 Renjun, 0 Y/N.

Your face fell, and Renjun found it cute how distraught you were at the realization that you were losing at your own game. You were relentless, though, and held out your fist again.

“Best out of three,” you said.

“Even if it’s best out of three, I still win,” Renjun argued. “I literally won it twice.”

“I’ll suck you off if we can do the cooling method design.”

Renjun nearly choked on his own spit, coughing for a moment before he calmed down and tried to take your offer seriously. There was something ethically wrong about all of this, but only a fool would turn down a blowjob. At least that was what Renjun tried to convince himself of.

That was how the first work session went to shit.

Renjun was sitting on the edge of his bed, pants sagging at his ankles and head thrown back as you went down on him. He curled his fist in your hair, guiding your movements and admiring the way tears streamed down your cheeks as you deepthroated him.

He grunted, breath caught in his throat for a moment when your tongue ran along the vein on his cock perfectly, and without warning, Renjun was cumming down your throat.

You were panting when you finally pulled yourself off Renjun, having the nerve to tease his sore and sensitive head while your lips were wrapped around it. He tried to glare down at you, but he was too spent to do anything but catch his breath, leaning back on his hands.

“So…” You smirked devilishly. “Cooling method design, right?”

Renjun scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, though he knew that one more bat of your lashes and he’d end up complying. Whatever spell you had him under, Huang Renjun knew he was royally screwed around you.

Renjun was puzzled.

You two had been working on the group project for a month and a half now, regularly going to each other’s apartments, but absolutely nothing was happening. By nothing, Renjun meant that you seemed to tame whatever aggressive sexual libido you had when you first met him. Now, Renjun was leaving your house bi-weekly with blue balls. It was torture.

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t enjoy your company. It was nice having someone to work with that wasn’t only productive but engaged in quality conversations. Sometimes, you went on long rants about your roommate problems, and at this point, Renjun was half-convinced that he knew more about Minjeong than Jeno did.

Later, when Renjun confided in Jaemin about it (why he chose to confide in Jaemin was beyond him, but at least the guy was useful for something), his roommate replied, “You’re in the talking stage, dude.”

What the hell was a talking stage? Renjun wanted immediate obsession.

“Renjun’s getting cuffed?” Donghyuck questioned. Before Renjun could respond, too dazed from Jaemin’s response, Donghyuck’s lips curled into a smirk. “Attaboy.”

“She got Renjun to watch anime with her.” Jaemin scoffed. “Can you believe it?”

“Which one?” Jeno chimed in. A pout settled on his roommate’s face. “You don’t even watch anime with me, Renjun.”

“I didn’t even agree yet!” Renjun defended, pulling out his phone with the texts from you as proof. “See? She just sent me a list of her recommendations. I didn’t even decide if I was gonna watch one of them yet.”

“Some of the summaries she wrote are concerning,” Jaemin said, looking over his friend’s shoulder to see the list. “Would you watch ‘girl gets in a car crash while she’s trying to save a loser god and her soul leaves her body sometimes to chill with the other gods’ or ‘gay volleyball players that are actually not gay and just have a wholesome friendship and play volleyball a lot’?”

“My personal favorite is ‘bad bitches gamble in high school,’” Donghyuck added. “Sounds heartwarming.”

“Don’t watch that one,” Jeno cut in with a serious tone, which was a refreshing change from the torment that Jaemin and Donghyuck were inflicting upon Renjun. “The two that Jaemin suggested are way better.”

Jaemin leaned in to whisper to Renjun and Donghyuck, “Jeno takes this stuff seriously. He even has a whole anime tier list.”

Unbeknownst to his housemates, Renjun had already done his extensive research on the shows already. He had looked up every summary and review for each show, and he already mentally selected the anime he wanted to start with. Renjun liked to reciprocate with these sorts of gestures; if someone was going to put in the effort for him, he wanted to show the same energy back.

So, the minute you sent Renjun that extensive text, he got right to researching the suitable anime to watch. He weighed all the pros and cons before coming to a conclusion. It was the only right thing to do after you put so much work into sending him that text.

(In reality, you probably only spent a few minutes typing it all out.)

“I didn’t choose either of those,” Renjun announced. “I’m going with Your Name.”

“My name?” Donghyuck asked stupidly, pointing at himself. “There’s an anime called Hyuck?”

“Yeah, it’s called the Goofy Movie,” Jaemin retorted.

“This is why you’re a piece of shit, Jaemin.”

“No, Your Name,” Renjun corrected. “It’s an anime movie, dumbass.”

“Is that on your tier list, Jeno?” Jaemin asked.

“Yeah…” Jeno trailed off, rubbing his chin as he tried to remember where he placed it. His eyes shone when it clicked in his head. “It’s in the ‘astronomically down bad’ tier.”

Well, fuck.

Office Hours for aerospace thermodynamics was held on Fridays at eight in the morning, and Renjun found that to be an abomination.

For one, he despised waking up at such an ungodly hour because every hour Renjun had to cut out of his beauty sleep meant a higher risk of breaking out. While it was such an easy task in high school, the few extra years on Renjun now seemed to be a burden on his body. He could barely drag himself out of bed without at least ten alarms that went off five minutes apart.

Secondly, the walk to campus was unbearable. It was too close for Renjun to take his car, but it felt like miles when he went by foot. He was always a sweltering mess by the time he got on campus grounds, speed walking to get into the first air conditioned building he could see.

But, now, Renjun had something to look forward to: you.

“You’re late!” you scolded in a whisper. Renjun was huffing when he approached you in front of the door to their professor’s office. He bit back a smile at how cute your fake-angry face was. “Did you run here or something? You’re all sweaty.”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “You sure know a lot about me being sweaty, huh?” This got a laugh out of you—one that Renjun had to sneak a look at through the corner of his eye, beaming at how your eyes lit up at his joke. He asked, “Is he talking to another student?”

“Yeah, he said he’ll be with us in ten,” you replied. “I brought my laptop so we can show him all the slides we made.”

“Perfect. That’s plenty of time,” Renjun said. Before you could ask what he meant, he pinched your inner thigh—a gesture that felt more endearing than sexual—and he started walking ahead of you. “Follow me.”

While you were tailing behind, hounding Renjun with questions, he was scanning the windows down the hall to see which classroom was completely empty. When he finally found one void of students and teachers, he opened it and grabbed your wrist, pulling you inside with him. Your questions ceased once you caught onto what he was suggesting.

“Cute shorts,” Renjun commented.

“You couldn’t take it anymore, huh?” You ran your nicely-manicured fingernails down Renjun’s chest, biting back a smile as he closed the door behind the two of you. “I know you’d cave sooner or later.”

Renjun’s mind went completely blank, like the static when tuning to a different radio station. Then, it dawned on him.

“You planned this.”

“Not completely,” you defended. “I knew you had a thing for me in these kinds of shorts, so I wanted to see how long I could wear them for until you finally exploded.”

“Oh my god,” Renjun breathed out. He cornered you against the wall, looking down at you in awe. He nearly popped a boner with the way you looked up at him with that coy smile. “You little devil.”

Renjun turned you around with no proper warning, pressing up against your back while your front was against the wall. You turned your head to the side as you gasped, trying to crane your neck to look back at him, but to no avail. Renjun reached down the front of your shorts and started rubbing you through your underwear—agonizingly slow.

His smile was a little unhinged as he palmed you, relishing the way you crooned and moaned because of his hand movements. Renjun loved the way you were arching your back against him, each stutter of your hips against his crotch reminding him of how he ached for you.

For some reason, Renjun could only think about ripping your clothes off and having his way with you. If he could, he would completely ignore Office Hours, but you seemed too adamant on attending. Something about getting those stupid slides approved. (Renjun could honestly care less with his 95% in the class, but he wasn’t going to gloat.) So, you rushed him through the foreplay, begging him to not make you two late for your meeting.

“Good girl,” he simpered when he had one of your legs wrapped around his hips, easing his cock into your walls as slowly as he could, all the while rubbing your clit with his thumb. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You whimpered. “I haven’t been fucked in months.”

“Seriously? Ever since we hooked up?”

When you nodded, Renjun felt like all the blood from his head rushed to his cock. He was a little lightheaded, but he was incredibly horny. He waited for you to adjust properly, and then Renjun settled for a ruthless pace, fucking into you so abruptly that your arms slung around his neck immediately.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips as he thrusted. You returned it immediately, eyes fluttering shut and melting into him. It was sweet and somewhat out-of-place given the magnitude of what you two were currently doing.

The feeling of your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair and your broken croons against his lips was absolutely divine. Something about being so close to you coupled with the risk of being caught made Renjun feel so connected to you on levels he hadn’t felt before. He, for one, would never do something like this for someone who he was just hooking up with.

He was a man of reward, not risk. You, however, made him consider both.

“Oh! Right there!” you yelped one he hit that one perfect spot. You tried to quiet down your cries, but it was clearly not working, so Renjun did you a favor and clamped a hand over your mouth as he fucked you against the wall.

“Come on, love,” he taunted, “you better cum fast before we miss that meeting. You don’t wanna be caught, do you?”

Your eyes were glossy with tears rimming the waterline. Renjun nearly got lost in them, breath hitching when tears started rolling down your cheeks and your hips continued bucking up against his, begging for more contact. That was when Renjun realized you were on the edge, and he figured it out too late because one final thrust had you clenching around him and letting out muffled moans against his palm.

You spoke against his hand, almost inaudible because of how muffled your voice was.

“What was that?” Renjun asked, removing his hand.

“Don’t cum,” you clarified, hazy as Renjun kept thrusting into you like a well-oiled machine.

“Are you denying my orgasm? That’s kinda hot.”

“D-don’t make a mess,” you said, reaching up to grab his cheek. “We still have that meeting.”

“Alright, alright,” Renjun said softly, slowing his thrusts until he pulled out of you and tucked his cock away. He was still aching and hard as a rock, so he was going to have to take a quick bathroom break and have you stall the professor for time. “This isn’t just gonna be a monthly thing, right?”

“Bi-monthly?” you joked. Renjun snickered and nudged your shoulder playfully. “C’mon, I’d be stupid to not let that happen again.”

“Wanna come over tonight?” he offered. “Not… not to do our project. Let’s, like, actually hang out. We can watch one of your anime recommendations.”

You smiled at him. “Tonight? Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Y/N, I…” Renjun started, and when he realized what he was going to say, he cut himself off, shocked.

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “I have to go to the bathroom to take care of my little problem,” he mumbled. “Stall the professor for me, will you?”

You threw your head back and laughed—well, it was more like a cackle. It sounded kind of evil, and Renjun was a little miffed at the thought of you enjoying the thought of him suffering with blue balls.

When you agreed and fixed your appearance before you left, Renjun had to lean back against one of the desks and process what had just happened. It wasn’t the sex that he was so worried about, but it was the words that died on his tongue. The words he would’ve let fall from his lips if he had just a little less self-control.

I like you a lot.

“I think I’m gonna ask Y/N out,” Renjun blurted out that evening at the dinner table.

Jaemin choked on his cereal. Nobody asked why he was eating Frosted Flakes while everyone else was eating a proper meal; it was probably just a Jaemin thing. Renjun was more curious as to why he had a second box of cereal next to his bowl, though, like he was ready to devour both.

“You’re asking her out?!” Donghyuck asked, an excited glint playing in his eyes. Renjun knew that look all too well, and he was a little scared of it, but part of him wanted to believe it was genuine excitement from his friend.

“I like her,” Renjun admitted. “A lot.”

Jeno whistled lowly. “I didn’t think this day would come. Mark would be proud of you, Renjun.”

“I never needed Mark’s validation, Jeno, but thanks.”

“So, when are you gonna ask her?” Jaemin asked, spooning a bunch of cereal and milk into his mouth.

That was what Renjun was stuck on. He had no idea what “good timing” was, and he wasn’t sure if asking a girl out while watching anime was very romantic. Then again, he didn’t expect you to care too much about formalities like that.

Plus, it was clear that you had some feelings for Renjun. He could feel the mutual intimacy when he split you open, as odd as that sounded.

“Tonight,” Renjun decided.

(“Need us to leave the house? We can chill outside,” Donghyuck offered.

“No, you’re good,” Renjun told him, “and I’m saying this because I saw the binoculars in your backpack so please stay in your room, for the love of God.”)

Huang Renjun was meticulous.

Because of this, he actually watched Your Name before you came over. He didn’t pay too much attention to the plot because he wanted to get into it while you were by his side, but he noted the three ideal points in the movie to drop the question of the night.

So, when you knocked at his door, he was prepared.

“Hey,” you breathed out, and Renjun felt winded for a second because you looked absolutely gorgeous with your scarf pulled up to your chin.

“What’s up?” He rubbed the back of his neck and was starting to wonder if he wasn’t as prepared as he thought he was.

“I dressed up,” you told him. “Isn’t it stupid? I dressed up to watch anime.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Renjun replied, and he could hear miniature replicas of his roommates screaming in his head, telling him that he was fumbling the bag. So, he quickly added, “But it’s cute.”

Fumbled and saved. Renjun was too lucky sometimes.

“You think I’m cute?” you asked as Renjun opened his laptop to stream the movie. He was a bit distracted with entering his password in, but when he processed your question, he did a double take. You giggled at his reaction. “Well?”

“I mean…” He hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as he thought they were. “I guess so—yeah.”

He patted the space next to him on his bed before you could tease him any further. Renjun thought his heart would go crazy if you continued being so annoyingly adorable in front of him. So, he fixed his gaze on his laptop screen, only glancing at you when you slid into the sheets next to him and leaned against his arm. Renjun placed half of the laptop on your lap so that it was centered.

Normally, instances like these would result in a cuddle session. However, Renjun had to understand that you took your anime seriously, and that there would be nothing sexual or romantic happening while you two were watching the movie. He decided to buckle down and watch it seriously himself.

However, that resulted in Renjun missing all of the ideal points in the movie to drop the “will you be my girlfriend?” bomb. He wound up being so immersed in the movie, and he only realized that he had actually fumbled the bag when they reached the climax of the movie.

“This part makes me so anxious,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” Renjun replied bitterly. Thankfully, you didn’t have the mind to question why he sounded so indifferent. “Same here.”

When Renjun recalled the possibly romantic ending scene, he realized he had another chance to make things right.

Unfortunately, he got so distracted by the movie again that he completely missed the opportunity to ask you out. He was mentally scolding himself for being so out-of-character.

“Renjun,” you started, and he turned to you with a raised brow. “You look disappointed with the ending.”

“I’m not disappointed with the movie, I’m disappointed in myself,” he answered honestly. “The movie was incredible, really. Five out of five stars on Yelp.”

You gently touched his arm. “Why are you disappointed in yourself?”

“Because I wanted to ask you out!” Renjun exclaimed. God, he was stupid. He was so, so, so stupid, but the words were slipping out without any proper filter. “I picked out, like, three good moments in the movie where I could’ve popped the question, but I was being an idiot and missed them all. Jesus, this is so—”

“I like you, too.”

There was a feeling Renjun got sometimes when he was around you. It was when his chest felt fuzzy and his stomach kept dropping. He supposed it was what people described as “butterflies,” but Renjun despised butterflies, so he didn’t want to call it that.

But, here you were, laying your feelings bare in front of Renjun. He felt like the sun, Earth, and the moon had all aligned for this very moment. It was like a collision of supernovas in his chest, making him buzz and glow with the amount of inexplicable joy he felt.

You liked him. You liked him.

“You…” Renjun trailed off. “Huh?”

“I like you, stupid,” you insisted, punching his shoulder lightly. “Do I have to scream it in your ear?”

“I might be dreaming.” When you brought your lips to Renjun’s ear, he panicked and held you back by your shoulders. “Okay, relax, I get it. You like me back. Understood.”

You grinned. “Well, do you have something you wanna say?”

Renjun blushed. He couldn’t believe he could feel flustered to this extent, but you had a strange effect on him. When he regained his composure, he moved the laptop off your laps and turned to face you a little more.

“Y/N,” he started. “I like you a lot, so will you be my girlfriend?”

You smiled brightly and kissed his cheek. “Of course.”

Renjun looked you dead in the eye. “So, ready to seal the deal?” he asked.

“What deal?”

Renjun’s hand moved to hold the back of your neck, leaning down to pull you into a sweet kiss. He was surprised by how easily you fell into the rhythm, kissing him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Renjun pulled you closer by your hip, nearly going further until you placed your hands on his chest.

You pulled back for air, looking up at him with a glazed-over expression. He was definitely going to have to make this impromptu first date up to you with something more romantic, but, for now, Huang Renjun was too lost in your eyes.

“Up for a round?” you asked.

Renjun’s cheeks heated up before you handed him the game console. “Smash Bros. Right.” He took it from your hands and sent you a lopsided grin. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

A grin spread across your face. “Don’t be too sure of yourself,” you chided. “Even though I’m your girlfriend now, I’m not showing you any mercy.”

Jeno groaned as he slapped a ten dollar bill into Donghyuck’s palm. The two of them and Jaemin had been eavesdropping on their best friend’s confession earlier, and they were glad for two reasons: one being that Renjun was the first bitch hunter to attain a bitch, and the second reason being that they didn’t have to listen in on them nearly fucking.

“Jaemin, I need ten dollars from you, too,” Donghyuck chided. “I said they’d get together within two months and they did, so I won this bet fair and square.”

“I was close enough!” Jaemin complained. “Three months was a pretty reasonable estimate.”

“But not the closest, so cough it up.” Donghyuck gestured for his housemate to place the money on his hand, and Jaemin reluctantly did so after much reluctance. “It feels so good to be right all the time.”

“I thought they’d get together in two weeks.” Jeno crossed his arms across his chest. “But, damn, Renjun was the first to get cuffed out of us, and he didn’t even care about bitch hunting.”

“It’s okay, boys,” Donghyuck assured, though his bravado was simply just boosted by his $20 reward, “all of us will find our respective bitches.” He glanced at Jaemin for a moment and made a face. “Actually, I’m not sure about Jaemin, but Jeno and I for sure.”

“Funny,” Jaemin replied bitterly, “I was just about to say the same about you, Hyuck.”

Jeno, sensing the tension rising between his two friends, grinned sheepishly and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “We should get to campus before we’re late, you guys.”

The other two agreed despite bickering the entire walk to the car. Jeno snickered at his friends, but all he could think about was how the heat was on now. Since Renjun was victorious a month and a half into the semester, Jeno knew that Donghyuck and Jaemin would be even more fired up to find their special someone. He, too, wondered when the day would come that he found someone that made him soft around the edges.

For now, though, Jeno could just enjoy listening to his friends banter back-and-forth.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ huang renjun: no bitches to bitch attained >:) thank you so much for your patience with the first installment !! i can’t wait to write the rest <33 i wanna scream it from the top of the building bc i feel like that’s the only way i can truly show my gratitude but i deeeeeply appreciate all the love and support i’ve gotten on this series !! to think this was supposed to be for my 5k follower special and i’m at 6k now!! that’s insane???? i’m so honored that you guys choose to read my works so thank you thank you thank you and i hope you enjoyed the first installment! ♡ (p.s: i hope you caught onto the lil segway to jeno’s at the end :D)

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