Lovebrush Chronicles: Jealousy Dynamics (Reader vs. Him)
Modern
Ayn Alwyn x Reader
Reader: 30% | Ayn: 80%
Black cat energy. Ayn Alwyn feels jealousy as easily and as quickly as he gets sweet-tooth cravings.
Since you are entirely used to people fawning over Ayn—from his music-brainwashed fans on Harp Island to his everyday admirers—you rarely feel genuinely jealous when someone catches his attention. You just experience a brief pang or two here and there.
Ayn, on the other hand, is certainly not used to losing the spotlight—and he is especially not used to having your attention stolen away from him. In the first place, he isn't exactly generous with sharing you. When he gets jealous, he will silently brood and act coldly, giving you incredibly obvious signs that he is annoyed, though he refuses to bring it up first. He will keep up the frosty act until you make the first move, using sweets or cake as an appeasement.
The Fix: He will stubbornly make you feed him the treats yourself.
Alkaid McGrath x Reader
Reader: 70% | Alkaid: 70%
Completely balanced and deeply empathetic. Both you and Alkaid feel the exact same amount of jealousy and display it in remarkably similar ways.
Thanks to his gentle, helpful personality, Alkaid’s popularity at the academy is exceptionally high. As much as you are glad to have such a warm, kindhearted, attractive man as your boyfriend, you still occasionally battle a strong sense of possessiveness.
Alkaid feels that exact same wave of jealousy and possessiveness when someone else manages to completely steal your attention, especially if they are helping you with something he can't provide. However, he instantly feels guilty about his own envy; he internally chastises himself, reminding his heart that you are your own person and don't belong to him.
The Fix: For both of you, the resolution is incredibly quick and easy. Simple acknowledgment and a burst of doting, undivided attention make you both instantly forget the whole thing. He will just quietly lace his fingers with yours and hold your hand tightly.
Lars Rorschach x Reader
Reader: 40% | Lars: 70–80%
Mercurial and dramatic. Lars’s jealousy isn't stable, fluctuating wildly just like his playful temperament.
Being completely used to having your admiration and regularly seeking your full attention, it hurts Lars far more than he would ever be willing to admit when you give that attention to someone else—especially if you look comfortable and personal while doing it. You feel flashes of jealousy too, but it’s an emotion you have come to accept and manage when dating such a confident, effortlessly charismatic man.
Your boyfriend, on the other hand, acts like an absolute child when he's jealous. He will either entirely ignore you until you are forced to acknowledge his dramatic silence, or he will confidently step right in and interrupt whatever conversation you're having. Once he successfully gets rid of the person who dared to hold your attention instead of him, he will seamlessly act like absolutely nothing went wrong.
The Fix: He will confidently pull you aside later and demanding a kiss to fully make up for it.
Clarence Clayden x Reader
Reader: 90% | Clarence: 30%
Deep, logical security versus high-stakes longing.
It is incredibly hard not to get jealous when your boyfriend is both devastatingly handsome and utterly dependable to everyone around him. Clarence already barely finds time to spend with you because he is constantly dedicated to one task or another, endlessly extending his duties as the student council president. Because of this, when he does finally secure free time to spend with you, you don't take it lightly when a third party tries to steal that precious time away.
Clarence, conversely, finds it quite difficult to get genuinely jealous. He rarely experiences possessiveness, easily evaluating any situation for objectively what it is. He is profoundly reassured by his complete trust in your relationship; logically, if you didn't just have eyes for him, you wouldn't be dating him. It sometimes annoys you how you seem to be the only one getting jealous and possessive over time, but Clarence actually secretly enjoys seeing you like that. To him, your jealousy is further logical proof of your undeniable attraction to him. He never intentionally pushes your buttons, though, always prioritizing your absolute comfort first and foremost.
The Fix: He will quietly ask you later if you were disturbed by the interruption and will sincerely apologize for putting you through that stress.
Cael Anselm x Reader
Reader: 50% | Cael: 50%
A subtle, calculated chess game of teasing and pushing buttons.
You are entirely used to Cael doting on you, but you're also used to him giving you a necessary, firm push when needed. Furthermore, you routinely see massive amounts of attention drawn to him as Emerald, plus his gorgeous hair and striking presence. You try your hardest not to let it get under your skin, determined to always appear mature and collected in front of him.
Unfortunately for you, it is incredibly easy for Cael to tell exactly when you're jealous. And he will absolutely push it, deliberately drawing out his interaction with the other person as much as he can. He knows exactly how to soothe you later anyway, and he finds it incredibly endearing to see real-time proof of your feelings via your cute, pouting face.
On the flip side, it is incredibly hard to tell when Cael himself gets jealous. Like many things, he hides his envy flawlessly behind a perfect mask—until you purposely push his limits. When he finally snaps, he lets his anger slip just enough to forcefully break up your interaction with a tight, unyielding smile.
The Fix: You will both endlessly tease each other about it later to make up for it. You are both secretly glad to see the other person get jealous for you, smoothly putting the envy behind you once the air is cleared.
(6.2k, idol au, friends to rivals and exes to lovers, angst with a happy ending, non linear narrative)
first time writing for lovebrush!!!! this entire fic was running on pure inspiration i had so much fun c:
The VMAs 2025 - Artist of the Year revealed
The glitter and gold of the hall you sit in screams luxury. Every floor tile shines with diamond specks, every seat covered with the softest silk, and every meal is cooked to perfection. Even the butlers hired are impeccable, each one flawlessly attending to the absurd demands of the highly recognised celebrities sitting together with you in this very hall. The airconditioning, annoyingly set to the perfect temperature, brushes your bare shoulder with a chilling breeze, reminding you to plaster on yet another smile to appease the older gentleman conversing with you.
If he complimented your navy dress tonight, or commented about the weather, you don’t care for it. You’ve long zoned out. Neither do you really taste the fruity champagne on your painted lips, despite liking sweet drinks yourself.
You’re a woman on a mission. There’s only one thing you came here for, one title to claim in front of these powerhungry businessmen and self-absorbed celebrities.
For about four years now, you’re neither a fresh new face nor a wisened veteran in the pop industry, but you started your career strong with a debut album boasting a handful of popular hits among the youth. It earned you a spotlight in the mainstream centre stage of music, and you’ve only been growing since, if the ever-rising statistics on your streaming services and album sales have anything to say for themselves. You’re plenty decorated yourself, so not winning Artist of the Year this year would not pose a big threat to your empire; you’d still get to return to your penthouse and wake up to a scrumptious breakfast feast tomorrow.
The main problem behind your unwillingness to lose, however, lay behind ruby red eyes that have been staring your way for the past hour.
Ayn Alwyn’s gaze is so striking, so loud, so blunt that you can feel it through the back of your head. But you refuse to give him your time, let alone a speck of attention. You feel his stare prickling at your skin as you gingerly raise your champagne glass to your lips, intentionally leaving behind a dulled lipstick stain that you know he’ll pay close attention to.
For a fellow mainstream artist known for his impassivity to everyone, you’ll never understand the way he stares at you like he demands for something more. Or, maybe you do. Maybe you understand, and you’re choosing not to.
Another half hour goes by with mindless, performative chatter. Your feet are burning, your dress is slipping, and minutes are ticking by like hours. But a raging fire still burns in your chest (adrenaline or pure spite, you can’t tell), keeping you alive. Because the main event is coming soon, just around the corner; evident in how the chatter begins to dim, and the cameras come back on. Ayn’s heavy gaze subsides, reluctantly turning away from you, and you let out the breath you’d been holding.
Then finally, finally, the emcee walks on stage to begin his introduction.
When the emcee pulls out the card, ready to announce the Artist of the Year, you close your eyes, squeezing your hands deathly tight together, your sweat settling uncomfortably between.
The hall falls into silence, tension dense in the air. Slowly, painstakingly, the emcee raises the microphone to his mouth, face unreadable for seconds. Until he breaks out into a wide smile, loudly announcing a name that has the crowd around you erupting into boisterous cheer, fellow celebrities jumping up and down for joy.
It’s not yours.
-
Summer Interview 2022: Ayn Alwyn on Huajia’s career
“Yes. We’ve been friends for a long while now, since we were classmates in college.
Of course. I’m truly happy for her. I always believed in her talent, and I’m glad that the world can finally see it during her debut too.
Yes. She’s always been this dedicated. I hope you’ll enjoy the album as much as I did when she sent me some of the demos. No, she wrote everything herself. No, I promised her I won’t leak anything.
Once the album releases, well… I’ll treat her to lunch out. She deserves at least that much, with all the work she puts in behind the scenes. What else? That’s between the two of us.
Some of the songs were inspired by me? …I didn’t know that. How did you? She teased it on Twitter? …Hm.
A collaboration… that’s for both of us to decide. We’ll work on one only if she wants it.
…For the last time, we’re not dating.”
-
Midnight finds the accomplished Ayn Alwyn standing outside your door like a sopping wet cat.
You look up at the man before you, half annoyed, half amused. For an accomplished musician who was up on stage receiving the Artist of the Year award with quiet pride three hours ago, he certainly looks quite pathetic by your doorstep now; rainwater dripping down his black hair, red eyes sadder than you’ve seen in a long while. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his gala clothing— did he just leave the afterparty, or did he choose to not attend, knowing you hadn’t either?
Regardless, he’s already here at your door, and you’re honestly slightly infuriated at how handsome he looks even when drenched. “You came running in the rain, didn’t you? You’ll get sick.”
“Mm,” he replies, stoic, with an underlying sadness you don’t address.
You don’t have it in you to turn him away.
It takes twenty minutes for him to wipe the rain out of his hair, shower, and change into clothes his size conveniently found in your penthouse. It takes much less than that for him to settle himself on your couch, like he lives here himself, like the rivalry between the two of you as competing music artists doesn’t exist.
Not wanting to hold a proper conversation with him tonight, you let the TV play in the background, accompanying the rain in drowning out the silence. It doesn’t stop Ayn from glancing your way ever so often, striking red eyes expectant and longing.
Finally, you cave. You’ve never been good at refusing this man.
“Congratulations on the win,” you say, hoping bitterness doesn’t lace your tone too much.
He lifts his head to you, quietly observing your features, until he whispers slowly, hesitantly, “It should’ve been you,”
“Don’t piss me off,” you sneer. A tightness knots in your chest, for the nth time tonight. Because what does he know? What does he know of worthiness, when all he does is win and all you do is watch? How could someone born in the industry with a silver spoon in his mouth possibly understand someone who climbed from the bottom?
Much to your chagrin, he wisely chooses to keep quiet, instead of indulging your itch for a fight.
Outside, the rain beats down harder on your penthouse windows. The raindrops roll down, each forming a unique zigzag trail, as if racing with each other.
You wipe away the tear tracks on your own cheeks resembling them.
-
“When I first met you
It just felt right
It's like I met a copy of myself that night
I don't believe in fate as such
But we were meant to be together, that's my hunch”
— Huajia, “Illustration”
-
The VMAs 2022 - List of Winners
“Stop that.”
Before you can fully peel the skin off your thumbs, Ayn gently grabs hold of your hands, separating them with his own one. The way he smoothly intertwines your fingers brings a rush of heat to your ears.
“I can’t help it,” you whisper, your shoulder touching his. “I’m so nervous.”
“I know,” he whispers back, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb.
Both of you turn your attention back to the stage, waiting in anticipation for Album of the Year to finally be announced. You’re aware that you’re already privileged enough, as a fresh new artist, to be nominated for multiple awards within your first year of debuting in the industry. And precisely because you’ve already made it this far, starting from the bottom with your blood, sweat and tears, you aren’t willing to walk away now.
Compared to you, Ayn’s more familiar with the industry, for the reasons that he’s been doing music a little longer than you along with the fact that he’s practically music royalty. His father is the head of a conglomerate that owns many, many music labels, but he manages to impress the world by forming his own identity completely unrelated to his father, building his empire as independently as a nepo baby possibly can.
“I know better than everyone just how hard you worked on your debut album,” he squeezes your hand, showing you a small smile meant only for your eyes. “If you don’t win, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
“Please don’t,” you half giggle, half sigh. “I don’t want to see my nepo baby boyfriend on the news for fraud.”
Ayn keeps you engaged in small banter, easily taking your nerves away, replacing it with the warmth of his presence by your side. His words, quiet yet firm, remind you of his eternal support. And then, when he leans in to ground you with a gentle kiss, the world around you both dissolves to nothing.
The announcer makes his way up on stage, and with Ayn’s hand clasped in yours, you feel more than ready to accept your soon-to-be award.
-
Pop Crave
@popcrave
[image]
Ayn Alwyn’s 3rd album wins Best Album in the VMAs, and Album of the Year in the GRAMMYs. (2022)
(5k Reposts, 121k Likes, 700 Comments)
-
Your manager sometimes jokes that your biggest enemy is yourself. You sometimes believe her.
In an industry that is inherently competitive, abusive and moneyminded, there is no place on stage for the weak or ordinary. Just like any other thriving artist, you’ve done your very best to cement a solid brand for yourself and an adoring fanbase, at the cost of sleepless nights and mental breakdowns.
So for what it’s worth, you feel genuinely grateful to be under a label that puts less pressure on you than you do yourself.
Come the morning after the 2025 VMAs, your manager is the first contact you call— choosing to ignore the countless messages of faux pity from celebrity acquaintances on your recent loss.
“You already know what I want to say,” she opens when she picks up, the exasperated smile on her side seeping through the line. It gives you a minimal amount of comfort, but comfort nonetheless. “So I won’t. Album sales are still climbing. Streaming is at an all time high. If there’s no rush to prove a point, why don’t you take a break for a week?”
“And drown myself in my thoughts, dear Naledi? Cruel.”
“Take a walk!” she cheerfully supplies. “I won’t totally ban you from working if inspiration strikes. But that’s all you’ve been doing non-stop; even the CEO herself is worried about you.”
You let out a snort, the closest to a real laugh in days. “Madam Liore would never, you’re joking.”
It’s the healthiest back and forth banter you’ve had in a while, emphasis on ‘healthiest’; you had shut yourself in your room last night after that brief talk with Ayn, and he had left your house before you woke, gone like a barely-there breeze, the only evidence of his existence being the breakfast left on your kitchen counter. Which you didn’t eat.
“Anyway, I’ll let you know if there’s anything important,” Naledi hums, reassuring, “Madam Liore chastised everyone in office today to not give you anything to do for the week— really, not joking! I swear you’re her golden child. Enjoy your week off!”
She hangs up before you can argue. Your tummy rumbles at that exact moment, and you remember that you hadn’t eaten, but you’re not in the mood to leave the house right now, nor whip up something from your empty fridge. That only leaves…
Begrudgingly, you make your way to the paper bag on the counter, convincing yourself that you’re just checking out what the bastard bought for you so you know what you’re passing to your elderly neighbours. But when you open the bag and actually see the contents, you’re left utterly speechless and a small flutter in your stomach.
Your favourite breakfast sandwiches from the store across your apartment building stare back at you, with extra cheese and no tomatoes— exactly how you like them. And by some otherworldly magic, they’re still warm and toasty when you touch them.
Inside the bag, along with the sandwiches and a bottled fruit tea, is a note.
Don’t eat late. Heat up well before eating.
When your fingers ghost over the cursive scrawl of his handwriting, an ache makes a home in your chest.
It worsens when you bite into the sandwich, the feeling of Ayn’s unspoken care flooding your senses.
-
Harp Island Times: Pop stars Ayn Alwyn, Huajia have ‘decided to take a break’ from two-year-long relationship
Chen Zihan, Feb 2024
A source confirms to Harp Island Times that the pair have gone their separate ways.
While not publicly known, the pair was speculated to have started dating back in early 2022. Prior to that, Alwyn and Huajia had been close friends from the same college, St. Shelter Institution, years ago. Their romantic friends-to-lovers story awed many fans and fellow celebrities alike, and generally received positive reception.
Users on TikTok and Twitter speculate that the reason for the breakup was building animosity between the pair over Alwyn winning Album of the Year twice in a row, along with Artist of the Year 2023 — titles that were highly expected, by both social media and critics, to be awarded to Huajia, whose debut pop album ‘Godheim’ consisted of four songs with at least 100 million streams on Spotify.
Others go on to further speculate that Ayn Alwyn’s consistent success might be backed by his father, the head of a powerful music conglomerate…
(Read more)
-
Two days before your week-long break ends, a phone call from Ayn shatters the slow peace you’d attempted to build for yourself.
To be honest, it might’ve been on you for picking it up in the first place. But you know that when Ayn calls, it’s because he urgently wants to hear your voice, and if you decline his calls, he would spam you with texts anyway. You never truly win when it comes to him. A gut feeling tells you that today won’t be different, if not worse.
When you answer, his breath comes through in slow puffs, heavy with the weight of an impending decision.
“The cats outside my hideout keep returning,” he begins, almost like a casual conversation, “but this time they won’t leave. I’m running out of treats to feed them.”
“Bann and Madu?” you snort, a wry smile on your lips as you make your way to the balcony. The night breeze brushes your hair, and you look up at the moon, the same one Ayn is under. “Don’t overfeed them. They’re almost overweight, last I saw.”
“You haven’t been here in nearly a year, though.” It sounds teasing, but his tone reveals more melancholy than it should, and your breath hitches, not sure if you’re ready to enter that territory of thought.
He moves on mindlessly from topic to topic, describing everyday activities, just like the night of the VMAs when he crashed your place. Like he’s pretending that everything is fine and normal between the both of you, and there is no strained rivalry, and you are still in love, and you would run back into his arms the moment he asked you to. You’re pretending there isn’t truth to any of that.
And honestly, you want everything to be fine and normal. You want to be in love with him. You love him. You truly do, even with your spite and dignity on the line. Because you’re tired of pretending your love has faded, pretending every love song you write isn’t about him, pretending it’s not him consuming your every waking thought. Ayn Alwyn has been written into the pages of your story in permanent ink from the moment you met him in St. Shelter Institution. His ghost haunts you in everything you do, everywhere you go, and you’ve never cried nor yearned for anyone else as much as him.
Still, for performances’ sake, you choose self preservation. “Why did you really call, Ayn?”
As expected, he goes quiet, and the familiar jingle of the windchime in his hideout is the only sound you hear from the other side of the line. Then, quietly but firmly, like an anchor in deep sea, he whispers something that sends your stomach plummeting to the ground.
“I love you.”
Clear as a musical note, sincere as a melody. He says it softly, but so loudly in that determined tone of his, leaving your ears ringing and your head spinning. “I love you. I adore you so much. I miss you.”
“Ayn,” you let out a strangled whine, tears dotting the corners of your eyes. “Don’t do this to me.”
“All I want is you here with me,” he only continues, a single crack in his voice being the only indicator of any emotion. “My Huajia. Won’t you come home to me? I love you. I want you so, so much.”
“That’s the problem!” you scream, crumpling to the floor. “All you do is want, want, want. What you want, you get. What you don’t want, you get anyway! You win everything you want and more, and all I do is watch from below you. I tried to save myself, choose myself when I broke up with you, but now you want my autonomy too? Are the awards you’ve taken from me not good enough for you, Alwyn?!”
“No, that’s not what I—”
You suck in a harsh breath, schooling yourself out of your brief moment of hysteria. Nonetheless, you can’t prevent the despair from seeping into your voice, “Ayn, I’m begging you. I’ve already lost too much to you; I can’t lose myself too.”
He doesn’t have a reply for that. The jingle of the windchime fills up the silence on his end, stretching, waiting.
“Then,” he murmurs, slow and resolutely, but not without bitterness, “I won’t tell you I love you anymore. Sweet dreams, Huajia.”
He hangs up before you can get the satisfaction to. Immediately, you lose all remaining feeling in your legs, the world around you dropping into a blur. Your phone clatters loudly onto the balcony floor, and a neighbour is probably looking at you in concern, but all you’re preoccupied with is wailing into your hands.
In an industry that is inherently competitive, abusive and moneyminded, there is no place on stage for the weak or ordinary. Even though your pity party isn’t over yet, adrenaline and pure rage pulls you off the floor, and you’re ringing up your manager before you register it.
“Forget the break, Naledi,” you seeth through your teeth, angry tears blurring your vision, “I’ve got inspiration for a new single.”
-
“Come rest your bones next to me
And toss all your thoughts to the sea
I'll pull up each of our anchors
So we can get lost, you and me”
— Ayn Alwyn, “Buried With You”
-
It’s a random Tuesday when you decide to drop your new single, ‘Dreamscape’. No advertising, no prior announcement, no promotional buildup. Fans are curious. Critics are skeptical. Regardless, many people give it an experimental listen. The result? Everyone is shocked.
“I hate it when you think you're reassuring
'Cause it don't make me feel like I
Can tell you I'm over always hurting
You can't live with a heart like mine”
Neater than a diss track, angrier than a breakup song. Your new single is absolutely nothing like you’ve ever done. From the instrumentals to the layering of your voice, it’s a complete 180 from your typical style. It is raw, unadulterated, and full of pure spite.
And the cherry on top? The cover is a candid picture of you raising an uncensored middle finger, with the words “FUCK YOU AYN” messily scribbled in red marker ink at the corner.
The world goes a little nuts, to say the least.
Despite the uncharacteristic crudeness and the direct diss to a prominent fellow celebrity, responses to your new single are surprisingly well received. Streaming statistics jump high, higher than they’ve ever been. The media praises it as your most critically acclaimed work yet. Hell, the song is booming across TikTok and Instagram, with teenagers and adults alike syncing the chorus to videos of them cursing out their toxic exes.
Some are even predicting it to be 2026’s Song of the Year. And with the GRAMMYs’ submission deadline fast approaching and no new musical projects from Ayn Alwyn, there’s higher optimism that you’ll finally get your deserved recognition long overdue.
-
athy!! ✰ HUAJIA NEW SINGLE
@lovebrushedworlds
BRO???? THE NEW HUAJIA SINGLE IS SOO?? UNHINGED???? 😭😭
Most relevant replies
katsudon @hotricebowlsoup
the way she released it on his birthday too IJBOLLL
cloud ☁️ stream dreamscape! @huajiaverse
Im saying like… Ayn had to have wronged her in that relationship for the crashout to be this bad :shrug:
athy!! ✰ HUAJIA NEW SINGLE @lovebrushedworlds
and it’s cos that nepo baby stole her awards for years… we been knew [gif]
Savannah @savannahhh
Bro sybau literally no one confirmed it.
athy!! ✰ HUAJIA NEW SINGLE @lovebrushedworlds
ok *yn defender
katsudon @hotricebowlsoup
HELPPP HE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE ENOUGH LETTERS IN HIS NAME TO PROPERLY CENSOR
cael’s wifey ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ @mrsanselm
no cos it’s literally a masterpiece fr??? even tho you can feel the pain and rage in her voice her lyricism is still top tier oh queenjia we never doubted u
Ayn Alwyn ✅ @aynalwynofficial
You’re right. It’s exceptionally well done.
athy!! ✰ HUAJIA NEW SINGLE @lovebrushedworlds
??????????? AYN ALWYN??????????????????? [gif]
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Harp Island Times: CEO of Alwyn Conglomerates involved in vote-rigging power abuse
O’Connor, Jan 2026
The head of Alwyn Conglomerates, which owns multiple notable music labels, was revealed to be heavily involved in the rigging of votes in multiple prestigious awards such as the VMAs and GRAMMYs.
His only son, Ayn Alwyn, is an acclaimed music artist with many of said awards under his belt. This has led to the younger Alwyn being the subject of multiple rumors and theories over the years regarding his father’s involvement in his success.
The issue was first brought to light when Twitter user @lovebrushedworlds posted a call-out thread linking evidence of Mr Alwyn’s alleged fraud, which went viral and incurred a large movement from social media, pushing for authorities to further any investigation in this matter.
Surprisingly enough, Ayn Alwyn himself played a big part in the advocacy, being among the loudest voices in uncovering his father’s crimes…
(Read more)
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The GRAMMYs 2026 - Live Performances
The glitter and gold of the hall you sit in screams luxury. Every floor tile shines with diamond specks, every seat covered with the softest silk, and every meal is cooked to perfection. Tonight, you’ve changed up your style a little, just to match the trending hot single that earned you a nominee and a well deserved spot in this hall.
If anyone complimented your different look tonight, you don’t really remember it. You’ve long zoned out. Neither do you really taste the heavy wine on your painted lips, only grimacing at the bitterness ever so often.
You’re a woman on a mission. There’s only one thing you came here for, one title to claim in front of one person.
Unfortunately, right before the event to announce Song of the Year, is a live performance; by none other than the bane of your existence, the muse of your magnum opus. Ayn Alwyn makes his way on stage, heading to the standing microphone instead of his usual seat on his beloved piano.
You’re just as confused as everyone else. The crowd is wondering what he’ll do next— a PR stunt, to save his reputation before it crashes to the ground like his father’s? A desperate speech, to defend himself right before you claim the award you earned from writing a song lamenting about him?
None of you expect soft, composed Ayn to be backed up by a whole rock band on stage, electric guitarists and drummers taking their spot behind him.
Apparently, you’re not the only one changing up your musicality here. You almost find it funny. You almost find it cute.
Silence washes over the hall in anticipation as the lights dim. Then, Ayn starts to sing, and the crowd is taken aback. Because where soft, composed Ayn should’ve been, stood a young man, desperate and genuine, belting out lyrics that sounded like a teenage dirtbag garage band’s song.
But you knew it wasn’t. This isn’t a rock cover. It’s Ayn’s brand new single, ‘Eden With You’, performed live for the very first time on the GRAMMYs stage. And it’s so, so… different, so jarring. Gone are his skillful symbolisms and meticulous metaphors, which are prominent traits of his lyric writing; in their place, tonight on stage, are simple words so unfiltered and full of longing you can’t help but choke up badly.
“I hate your touch, I hate your mouth
I can't stand every single word that falls out
But you're all that I've been dreaming of
This is not another song about love”
It’s so corny. It’s so raw. It’s a replica of the 2010s love songs you grew up with, screaming in your childhood bedroom like you were the only person in the world.
The crowd around you fades to nothing when he makes direct eye contact with you throughout the chorus, striking red eyes daring you to break away first. You don’t. Like a sailor to a siren, you’re utterly hypnotised, hook, line, sinker. He’s never looked more desperate, but he’s never looked more beautiful.
The most infuriating part? He never says “I love you” directly.
“The sky fades from blue to gray
Inside she's just like an ocean, still I'm drowning
How bad I wanna sink and let it take me away
I don't know why I come back, I do every time
We get close to the end, it's a finish line
Sing these words for the girl I've been dreaming of
Is this just another song about love?”
The whole situation is so laughable. You, the writer of a song detailing every single moment you hated Ayn Alwyn; Ayn Alwyn, the writer of a song detailing every single moment he loved you. Both blunt and unadulterated in their own way. One a critically acclaimed masterpiece, the other arguably the worst work in their discography.
Is this Ayn’s revenge? For the poisonous words you spoke to him that night, or for the song you wrote? But where you expected yourself to feel humiliated, bare, you feel… full. Warmth overtakes you, searing across every inch of your skin, even in the chilling airconditioned hall. You feel seen. You feel worthy.
And then, it hits you: that just as much Ayn Alwyn haunts your every living moment, your ghost haunts him back too. Your essence lies in every single handwritten lyric of his, your voice the only music that plays in his head, your touch never unremembered by his skin. You are his salvation as much as you are his ruin, and he knows how to shatter you as much as he knows to piece you back together.
“I need your voice, I need your lips
I need you bad, I wanna steal your kiss
'Cause you're all that I've been dreaming of
This is just another song about
Another song about love”
The song comes to a close. The crowd cheers like crazy, but you can’t hear any of it, far too consumed by the heavy gaze he gives you before walking off stage.
You’re so caught up in a daze, you don’t even register how you make it back to your assigned seat. Even when the Song of the Year event begins, even when your name is called out, even when you finally receive your most anticipated and well deserved award in your entire career — none of it washes out the memory of striking red eyes piercing right through you.
-
Fall Interview 2022: Huajia on her relationship with Ayn Alwyn
“Ah, well, we were just classmates back in St. Shelter. I didn’t know anything about his family back then, so we became friends like normal people do.
Eh…? I mean, he was really attractive back then… maybe I did have a crush and refused to admit it to myself, haha.
I can’t tell you that! It’s too private, he’ll get mad at me.
Of course we compete with each other! It was practically the basis of our friendship back in college. He’s really talented though, even without his connections; he makes it hard for me to win.
Yes, I’m incredibly proud of his recent win in both the VMAs and the GRAMMYs. Sure, I did hope for myself to win… who wouldn’t? But I’m happy it was Ayn.
My favourite trait of his? Mm… his attentiveness. To me. Haha! No, really, he remembers so many things about me, and it makes me feel so seen and loved.
Yes, of course I’ll write more songs about him! Don’t worry, he’s not finished being my muse.”
-
Pop Crave
@popcrave
[image]
Ayn Alwyn posts a stunning picture of Huajia on his Instagram Story.
Most relevant replies
cael’s wifey ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ @mrsanselm
OMG hard launch???? my parents are back tgt 🥹
athy!! ✰ HUAJIA NEW SINGLE @lovebrushedworlds
MOVE AYN IT SHOULDVE BEEN MEEE [gif]
cloud ☁️ dreamscape with you! @huajiaverse
Soo… we agree that Grammys live performance did something? Lmao
athy!! ✰ HUAJIA NEW SINGLE @lovebrushedworlds
it defo did bro look at her she’s GLOWINGG they actually kissed and made up,, is the 24th floor high enough
Savannah @savannahhh
It’s literally a PR stunt to ignore his correlation to CEO Alwyn’s corruption.
athy!! ✰ HUAJIA NEW SINGLE @lovebrushedworlds
??? i’ve had it with your bs bro come over and SQUARE UP
Savannah @savannahhh
Yes, babe. Check your dms
katsudon @hotricebowlsoup
woaw… e2l yuri……… [gif]
-
Your phone, after last night’s shenanigans, understandably blows up in the morning.
As always, the first contact you call back is your beloved Naledi, whom you gently reassure of your physical and mental wellbeing. It takes multiple rounds of convincing, but eventually she relents and suggests you rest up for the next few days. You make a mental note to bribe Madam Liore into raising your manager’s pay for all the hard work she’s done for you.
“So, what of the smitten guy?”
“What about him?” you feign confusion.
“Huajia, please. Ayn Alwyn basically serenaded you on live TV yesterday, going all out on the teen angst, right before you received an award for a song you wrote about him! Huge congratulations by the way, everyone’s so proud of you— but that’s not the point! What did you do with loverboy afterwards? Surely you talked it out?”
You sit up in bed, stretching your muscles, only to deliver a resounding “Nope.” The line goes dead silent, and you expect Naledi to either (1) let out a giant sigh or (2) chastise you for leaving the “poor loverboy” hanging after his grand confession in front of millions of viewers.
What you don’t expect is for her to softly weigh in her own opinion, “I don’t know, Huajia. It’s no secret that all his love songs were written with you in mind. Forget last night’s live performance; if the countless interviews of him talking about you mean anything? Then he clearly adores you so much. I don’t want to influence your personal life, because you’re a grown adult and my good friend who’s capable of making the right decisions, but… if you have yet to, I strongly suggest you hear him out, just the two of you.
I never told you this, especially because I didn’t think you wanted to hear it after your breakup with him, but… did you know he sent letters to your studio? In those letters he writes lyric after lyric, different from the style he markets, but overflowing with his devotion nonetheless. I’ll apologise for peeking another day, but the letters were so heartfelt, I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away.”
You don’t know what to say to that. You truly don’t.
“Anyway, are you at home? I’m making my way over to your penthouse. Liore’s got a gift for you.”
Finally, you shake yourself out of your reverie. “Oh, no, I’m not at home. I won’t be for… the entire morning?”
You can hear Naledi come to an abrupt halt, slowly processing your words. “What do you mean you’re not home? It’s only 8, you never leave your house this… Wait. Oh my god. Huajia, where are you? Huajia? Huajia—”
Quickly hanging up before she can finish her train of thought, you toss the phone to the side, telepathically sending an apology over to Naledi’s mental state. Then, you turn over to your left, poking the warm body sprawled next to you.
Ayn Alwyn buries his face in his pillow, only revealing one eye to give you a death glare you can’t help but giggle at. Together with the mess in his hair, the wrinkles in his clothes, and the golden rays of sunlight splashed all across his bed, he looks like everything home is and more.
“You sent me letters?” you tease, leaning in to poke his cheek with your nose. He grumbles and tightens the arm around your waist, but he fails to hide the redness on his ears, so you take it as confirmation.
The next few moments are quiet, but for the first time in many years, it’s a peaceful silence you share with Ayn. There are words you can choose to say. There are words you want to say. But when he glances at you through the corner of his eye so soft and unguarded, your tongue goes completely numb. So instead, you choose to stroke his hair, gentle with the strands you help him untangle. He returns the favor, drawing something unintelligible with his thumb on your hip, protecting the silence with you.
When the birds chirp, a melody of their own filling the calm, you lean further down to kiss his jaw. A quiet hum from him, a soft exhale from you. He turns to reveal more of his face, bringing his free hand up to your cheek, holding you close; his every breath falls on your lips, light as a butterfly’s kiss.
“I really liked the song you wrote about me.”
“Is that so? I won an award for that.”
“I know,” his smile widens, just slightly. “It was very much deserved. Congratulations, my Huajia.”
“I cursed your name over and over.”
“I liked it. You wrote about the true me. Only you know who that is.”
You regard him with as much seriousness as you can while laying down on his bed with him. “I still don’t quite forgive you.”
“I know. I’m not expecting forgiveness.”
“I think some part of me still hates you.”
“That’s okay.” He grabs my wrist, bringing it to his mouth to bite it as well. “Love or hate, I don’t care… as long as you think only of me.”
“I hate you so much,” you spill out, just as vulnerable as you did in ‘Dreamscape’, but with a slight difference. Every feeling of affection you’d been holding back for the past two years comes tumbling out of your mouth, bleeding out of your chest, and you’re off rambling on a tangent and repeating the same words over and over out of pure frustration.
And Ayn, godforsaken Ayn, your Ayn listens attentively, reacting to every curse and cry of his name from your mouth. When you admit his most attractive traits, he bites your fingers and leaves you stinging, and when you lament all his fatal flaws, he kisses the soreness in lieu of an apology.
You fall, and you rise. You break, and you build. The push and pull of destiny, the ups and downs of life are inevitable to everyone including you.
But this time, in the quiet bedroom of Ayn’s isolated hideout, he’s your terminator, the bringer of your ruin; he’s your saviour, the one who quietly pieces you back together. He sends the unignorable message that regardless of where you are, what you go through, he wants to be part of it all, beside you. Yes, he’s greedy — he wants, and he wants, and he wants. What he wants, what he wins. And when he wins, he always, always shares the win with you. It means nothing if you’re not there.
The whole morning passes by in a blur of regretful kisses and tearful closure. The whole morning, Ayn never outright says “I love you.”
They’re much smaller, much softer than his. Everything about you is novel to him, all of your softness, in a world where the vast majority of its population have grown up wielding knives and guns. It makes sense— you come from a world far more peaceful than Eden.
He hopes that one day, no child will have to be forced into learning how to wield a knife or gun.
Another thing he likes about holding your hand—
Your thumb will almost always gently rub one of the scars on the back of his hand. He used to hate the scars marring his body, never wanting to show you anything from his unsightly past. These are his scars to bear, and his alone…
…is what he used to think. You don’t let him hide them away, instead coming even closer to him whenever you see his scars.
Over time, he’s become comfortable with having his scars revealed.
Because whenever you see his scars, you rub against him and hug him endlessly. You pepper him with kisses, one for every scar on his body.
A fuzzy warmth fills his chest as he sneaks a peek at your side profile. His gaze drifts down to his hand intertwined with yours, bright red flame marks pressed intimately together. He subconsciously squeezes your hand, drawing your attention away from the wandering stray cats. You smile at him, lips curving in a gentle arc that has his ears flushing pink.
“Ayn?”
His heart flutters wildly with a single word. He lowers his head, fiddling with your hand.
“Your hands are soft,” he mumbles, bringing your hand up to his lips to carefully kiss your fingertips.
He turns your hand over, brushing his callused fingertips against your similarly callused fingertips.
“Your fingertips are so rough, just like mine.”
“Ah, yeah… you can thank hours upon hours of painting for that.”
Sometimes he struggles with the fact that you chose to stay in this world— in this world where his fingertips are callused not because of something as beautiful as practicing hard in art, but because he was forced to use all sorts of makeshift weapons growing up. There isn’t anything gentle or soft about him; every change his body has undergone were for the sake of survival.
As he’s fiddling with your fingers, you suddenly hold his hand in place, your fingers slipping in between his.
“In this regard, we’re the same.”
You grin at him, holding up your hand that’s holding onto his hand.
“I like your calluses,” you hum, shifting your hand so that your fingertips are pressed against his. “I like everything about you.”
His lips part, not a single word coming out. His ears burn even redder, and he lowers his head shyly.
“I like your calluses… everything about you, too.”
You stare at him with rapt interest. After a prolonged silence, he finally looks up and sees the mischievous glint in your eyes.
“Ah…?”
Abruptly, you step towards him, the two shadows cast on the ground by the sunset fully merging together. You hold his cheeks in your hands.
He recognizes this look in your eyes. Obediently, he lowers his head for you to reach.
Your lips find his, playfully biting at his bottom lip, your hands on his cheeks pulling him closer still.
Dazedly, as he feels the rough skin of your fingertips rub against his skin—
tbh i have no idea how to write nsfw but lets gooooo
minors dni, keep your innocent eyes away
Aiyin/Ayn
he does not particularly have a high sex drive but he DEFINITELY has a lot of stamina
you know what they say about pianists? it is a fact that he is extremely good with his fingers; one of his favourite parts of his body because of how easily you fall apart from just one flick against your sweet spot. within seconds you are already whining on his fingers, begging him to fuck you
“oh? did you just cum on my fingers alone? hmm, perhaps let’s test out to see how many more orgasms you can give just from that alone~”
often times it would start off with an innocent kiss, which escalates to a passionate makeout and before you know it, you’re already tossed onto the bed with him hovering over you
Ayn is the type to praise and degrade you, but his degrading is never too harsh because he sees you as his treasure and would never want to do anything to harm you
which brings me to my next point of how he would never hit you during intercourse unless you ask him when he is in an experimental mood. he might agree to try it out but he would never take it too far
unless you are being a brat, he would not restrain himself from punishing you, either by edging or overstimulation because Ayn definitely is into both of them
Ayn is known to be protective most of the time and would easily get jealous. whenever you accompany him to lavish parties he has to go for the sake of his career, he would bring you along as his partner. but once he notices anyone settling their eyes on you for far too long, he is going to pull you into an empty room and- (im sure you guys know where it’s going)
“keep quiet, my dearest, you wouldn’t want others to hear how you are moaning like a whore on my cock, would you? you’re doing so well taking all of me, darling~”
despite telling you to keep quiet, he would purposely angle his hips to hit against your g-spot continuously, causing you to struggle with keeping your volume down. truth to be told, he does that just so whatever unfortunate soul lingering nearby would know you belong to him <3
most of the time it is the passionate lovemaking, he would go hard and fast, enjoying how you would whine and squirm under him in pleasure while he press heated kisses on your neck, cooing on what a good girl you are as he pounds you into the mattress
if you can’t tell, he has a bit of a thing for exhibitionism, whatever it’s called. but don’t worry, you two would never get caught because he would tell his bodyguards to make sure no one disturbs the both of you
^^ he likes quickies and is often teasing you to make you aroused. there was once where you visited him backstage to encourage him for his performance. “i don’t need any sort of encouragement.” he would say, and smirk at you. “unless you are offering that sort of encouragement?~”
- DOM DOM DOM. he’d bottom for you if you want to, but the moment you falter he’s taking over
- the first time you cry from how good it feels, he panics until you tell him it’s because you were feeling good, he would then aim to make you cry everytime you both are at it
Luchen/Alkaid
soft dom!!!
Alkaid is quite vanilla but if you want to experiment with something new, he wouldn’t be opposed to it as long as it is not too extreme
He is an attentive lover and will take note of what you like and where all your sensitive spots are
He is soft and gentle with you however if you wish to, he would love to do it rough. you just have to ask nicely <3
He can be a bit teasing in bed at times and would prefer edging than overstimulation. However the moment you pout and whine at him, he is already ready to stop and indulge in all of your desires
“You’re feeling good? Where? Here?” He would ask with an innocent tone as he would purposely avoid thrusting into your sweet spot, causing you to whine and pout at him as he chuckles, leaning forward to wrap you in his arms as he bottoms out inside of you. “You’re so adorable, I can never resist you.”
He would not want to cause you pain however he might try out with bondage and perhaps simple toys like the vibrator to use on you to make it more exciting
He loves to praise you! He would never degrade you in bed, even if he did, the way his honey-like voice whispers into your ear would make you believe he isn’t actually degrading you
Definitely loves to dirty talk to you in bed, murmuring against your neck about how good you feel and what a good girl you are for him while you lie under him moaning at every deep thrust he delivers, expertly aiming for your sweet spot
“Are you going to cum, darling? Come on, let go for me, my angel. Such a good girl for me~”
Unfortunately because you both have cats, it could be a little hard to find some alone time in bed but don’t worry! Alkaid makes it up to you by spoiling you with as many hugs and kisses as you’d like!
Surprisingly (or not so surprisingly) he is quite good with his tongue, there was once where he made you climaxed with his tongue alone for 3 times in a row without stopping, ignoring your cries in overstimulation. Alkaid would look at you sympathetically and gently rub your thighs as an apology. “I’m sorry dear, but you taste so good. Just cum one more time for me, okay?” He would say softly with a slight smile to comfort you before eating you out as if you were his last meal
Luoxia/Lars
Lars has the highest drive amongst all of the boys
He and Ayn have a lot of stamina, the most out of the others
If you are dating him, get ready to have a lot of quickies. Man is a CEO and is often times busy and so do not have time to give you the passionate lovemaking he wishes to give
You both would be doing it mostly at home or in his office
There were many times where, as a good girlfriend you are, brought him bento lunch to his office in case he forgot to eat. He’s happy to see you <3 and would ask you to feed him. It would somehow escalate to you sucking him under his desk while he works or even to fucking you over the desk, telling you to keep quiet
Which brings me to my next point that he gets turned on by the thought of getting caught. Of course he would never allow that to happen, after all your cute lovedrunk expression is reserved for his eyes and only his
“Princess, you don’t want to get caught, do you? Then i would suggest that you keep your volume down as i fuck you, alright?”
Lars definitely has a thing for breeding. He values familial bonds a lot and it wont be surprising when he talks about how much he wants to start a family with you. Often he would ask if he could cum inside of you, which you would agree to most of the times especially during quickies so you both won’t make a mess. Unfortunately the sight of seeing your combined fluids leaking out of your used hole is enough to get him hard again and end up going for 2 or more rounds
Another tease in bed. As much as he likes to see how needy you are for him, as a gentleman, he is more than happy to fulfil all of your desires. He would often tease you by changing his pace, at one time he would go fast and rough and purposely slow down once you’re at your climax, or when you tell him to slow down, he would purposely fasten his pace
He praises you a lot. Often calls you nicknames like princess, darling
Dom! It is a bit of a challenge to make him be submissive for you but he would allow you to be the one on top if you’d like to. When he notices your pace faltering as you ride him, he would smirk at you as his fingers caresses your hips. “Oh? Is my baby tired already? That’s a pity, I was just about to fill you up with my seed. You want that, don’t you?” His words would either make you eagerly start bouncing on him again or whine as you roll your hips against his, depending on how much energy you have left. He would then hold your hips in place so you won’t squirm as he thrusts upwards in an unrelenting pace, making you gasp in pleasure
Given that he is more mature, he definitely has experience in bed, however he is not the playboy you might think he is. He wants to treat you right and make sure you feel loved.
Have you seen how tall he is? 189cm. He definitely has a size kink. He loves how he towers over you or how in bed his body could easily envelope your smaller stature in a mating press as he is pounding you into the bed while you could only helplessly moan and whine under him
“My good girl can take all of me, right? That’s it. You feel so tight around me~”
Silan/Clarence
Clarence is super duper romantic and he would do anything just to make you feel good <3
Vanilla 100%
If you want to try something kinkier, he would agree but nothing that will cause you pain.
Most often times he will go deep and slow, causing you softly whine his name in pleasure as he murmurs praises into your ear
To be honest, the only experience he has is from books. He is more of the innocent type and was unsure of what to do during his first time with you. Sure, he has read some erotic writings before but he has never been with anyone this intimate before
He will always ask for your consent before proceeding. He just wants to make sure you’re comfortable!
“Ngh~ I-Is this position okay? It’s not too uncomfortable, is it? Good? Alright, I just wanted to make sure, darling”
He secretly likes doing it in front of mirrors or in a position where he can see your face (missionary is a go-to) so that he could watch your every expression to make sure he is doing well. Partly also because he likes to see how good you feel, it riles him up more and would thrust into you harshly all of a sudden which makes you gasp.
Switch vibessss. As mentioned before, he is willing to try anything with you. He does not really care about who is the more dominant one. Even if that means he is bottoming to you, he is chill with it. However everytime you insist on paying attention to him, pulling orgasms again and again from him while having just one or two yourself, he will insist on returning the favour
“P-please, wanna make you feel good too, my love. Wanna make you feel at least a hundred times better~”
He is not particularly very needy, most of the time it would be initiated by you or during a significant event, like your birthday
He spoils you a lot in bed if you can’t tell. He gives in to every single plea and does his best to make you feel good
Yexuan/Cael
Even though Cael has been alive for a super long time, he actually has no idea how to go about this, after all these feelings for you are pretty foreign to him and he is still learning about how to love you better. Often times you might catch him reading some romance novels just so he can learn how to treat you like a lover
In conclusion, you are his first
He is has the least sex drive, being alive for so long and not having a partner with him already says a lot. He can survive without it, but after meeting you, he craves for physical affection a little more.
He. Definitely. Holds. Hands. During. Sex.
He is innocent when it comes to the bedroom, his actions might come across as awkward as he had researched about it in advance but this whole situation is unfamiliar to him. However he is very attentive, memorising every sensitive spot of yours
Switch! He does not mind topping or bottoming. However I feel he is more of a service top. Like Clarence, he just wants to make you feel good <3
He would constantly ask if what he was doing is okay and also asks for consent, he just wants you to be comfortable and does not want to hurt you at all. Though sometimes his timing when asking them seem to be on purpose…
As he is thrusting into you at a fast pace (at your request), his tip hitting your sweet spot at that one angle every single time, he leans in to your ear, his hands finding yours to intertwined your fingers together. “Haah~ d-does this feel good? Do you- want to go faster?” Breathing into your ear while you moan loudly in response, making him chuckle, “I take it as a yes”
——————————-
im sorry that clarence and cael is kinda short 😭 idk how to write for them
lovebrush chronicles ⇢ “I CAN HOLD THE WORLD IN MY HANDS”
how they react to you saying you can hold the world in your hands then gently cupping their face
ft. ayn alwyn, alkaid mcgrath, lars rorschach & clarence clayden
note: reader’s cat’s name in alkaid’s drabble is set to beans which i named my mc’s cat because i forgot what the default name was djsjdjsja
just as you expected, you find AYN in the music room, practicing his piece for an upcoming school program. careful not to make any noise, you tread lightly to where he’s sat, slowly sliding into the already little space next to him on the piano bench. without pausing his hands above the keys, ayn scoots over to give you more room. soon he’s playing the last key of the composition and the moment the sound fades into silence, he lets out a frustrated sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. unable to find the right words that would seem helpful, you simply lift a hand to brush his locks, straightening a few flyaways and fixing his bangs before you cradle his face in your palms in comfort. for a moment, you wordlessly stare at ayn, taking in his stunning visage, and he doesn’t miss the abrupt quiet. “what is it?” he asks to which you answer playfully, “nothing. just holding the world in my hands.” the smallest of smiles adorns ayn’s features in an instant but not without a subtle eye roll. still, his crimson eyes turn into rubies as a gleam of affection flickers in his gaze. “you’re distracting me,” he replies in jest. you let go of him as you jokingly put your hands up in mock surrender, “please don’t call your bodyguards on me.” that coaxes a chuckle out of ayn, “tempting.” soon, you feel his arm snake around your waist as he pulls you closer and when you don’t inch away from him, he resumes his practice.
you and ALKAID are sat side by side on the couch as you watch beans and sparkles roughhousing in the middle of your living room. you don’t notice how much time has passed but it feels like the silence has gone for too long when you speak. “you’re an astronomy major,” you tell alkaid. “yes,” he confirms earnestly as if the information wasn’t already glaringly obvious. “can you hold the world in your hands?” you ask him quizzically. alkaid is clearly caught off guard by your odd question so without waiting for a response you know you’re not getting, you raise your hands and gently cup his cheeks, “i can.” alkaid gives you no response and you begin to think he’s put off by the cheesy gesture until a smile stretches across his face and he finally speaks. “so you’re saying i’m about…” he pauses briefly as he tries to recall a fact, “12,756 kilometers big.” there’s a hint of amusement in alkaid’s expression as he relays the information to you but you only knit your eyebrows in confusion so he continues with a sheepish grin, “that’s the size of the earth.” “of course.” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his sense of humor but you also find it incredibly endearing that you don’t bother to stifle the giggle that bubbles past your lips. alkaid laughs at your reaction, “what?” “only an astronomy major would say that.”
LARS invited you to spend the day with him at work—“i’m feeling lonely,” he said over the phone, the pout on his voice very audible on your end of the line that you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. so here you both are, tangled up in each other’s embrace since the moment lars joined you on the couch in his office sometime during the afternoon. under the orange rays of the sunset passing through the glass walls of the room, his blue eyes shine more brightly than they already do and his blonde hair have turned golden. he looks ethereal like this. “something on my face?” his voice snaps you out of your reverie, smugness painted all over his visage. you realize he can tell you’ve been staring. earlier in the relationship, it would’ve flustered the hell out of you but now you simply mirror the expression on his face as you gently hold it in your palms and you’re immediately filled with pride when his breath hitches at your affection. “nothing,” you say with faux indifference, “just checking if i can hold the world in my hands.” lars’ ever so familiar cockiness dissolves from his features, instantly replaced by a loving look in his eyes, “well?” “i guess i can,” you murmur. the deep rumble of lars’ chuckle soon hits your ears then he’s pulling you close as a teasing smirk stretches across his face once more, “you are so in love with me.” and you don’t deny it. you lean further onto his chest as he tightens his hold on your body. against your cheek, you feel his heart pick up the pace and that tells you enough—lars rorschach is undoubtedly just as in love with you.
“knock knock,” you say as you poke your head through the door to the student council’s office and CLARENCE immediately turns to the sound of your voice. “hi,” you add with a grin that clarence returns—or tries to return rather. despite the softening of his gaze and the air of authority around him vanishing, it’s easy to notice the stress that has dampened his spirits. “hey,” he replies anyway. he invites you to join him at his desk and you gladly do, although carefully perching on the edge of the table. “everything okay, mr. president?” clarence huffs out a chuckle at the nickname before releasing an exasperated sigh. “what’s up?” you ask again and clarence answers this time. as an insignificant member of the student body, you only understand half of his student council worries—one of them being this year’s stellaris cup not having enough participants. “what if i join?” you suggest and clarence can immediately sense the halfheartedness in your tone. “you’d do that?” he asks dubiously, the corner of his lips now quirked up as he prepares to call you out on your bullshit. maybe you are just attempting to cheer him up but it’s the thought that counts. “i would,” you retort as you get on your feet with theatrical confidence, “for my first trick, i will hold the world in my hands.” clarence raises an eyebrow but he doesn’t interrupt so you walk around his desk until you’re standing in front of him. when your hands softly land on his face, he’s quick to understand what you mean and in your grip, he shakes his head in amusement but a subtle blush now dusts his cheeks. “that’s a winning talent if you ask me,” you jest. that earns you a laugh from clarence as he jokingly agrees, “it is.” in the same instance, you feel him lean further into your touch, closing his eyes as he basks in it then he sighs in pleasure.
a hand on your hip, the other cupping your cheek as your hands run this tangled tresses — his lips coming in shallow returns and echoing breaths when he pulls away every few seconds or so.
every time he shows you affection, you feel like it’s a first for the both of you — no matter how many times you’ve experienced it alongside him.
the air around you two is sensual, his touch nothing less than tender — words within his grasp, yet also lost in the way your tongue pulls him back.
it’s savory how clarence kisses you.
it’s just right — the amount of risqué and softness on his hollowed cheeks forever bygone with your breath and his love.
his arms wrapped around your waist, lips always wandering down to the corner of yours in an attempt to (poorly) save your sullied cosmetics and taste the strawberry flavor — your arms rest on his shoulders, hands brushing his nape; ready to pull him in further if he pulls away more than an inch from you for air.
you feel worshipped with the way he treats you — hidden in the empty backdrops of a closed staged, yet revered to no end on a a box of props for the next myths and legends play.
it’s spicy how ayn kisses you.
he’s hungry — teeth catching on your bottom lip when you back away, reeling you in with a silent plea that dares not to go past a whine.
your back is arched against and further from the wall, his palms heavy on yours and fingers twined messily with yours. glassy black locks cage you in, lashes tickling your eyelids that are tight shut; air thick with melody that only the man pressed against you can coax out your throat.
a kiss, as heavy as his promises to you come undone and drip with an almost borderline eroticism that leaves you dirtied with want and cleaned with any memory other than his touch beforehand.
✩ love notes — i pulled this outta my ass sorry for the shit quality y’all 😭🙏🙏
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Ayn presses his lips to yours like he's waited for you his whole life, his lips are molded to yours as he practically tries to absorb you, his passion bleeding through his hands as he holds you to him desperately. He kisses you like he's lost you in a past life again and again, and he kisses you like he has nothing left but you in this world. He kisses you like he's going to lose you and he's terrified of what's to come when you have to inevitably pull away.
Lu Chen / Alkaid
Alkaid kisses you like a butterfly— his lips brush against yours only once before he pulls away, cheeks warm and neck red, and you have to pull him in again if you want a kiss again. His lips brush yours for a second as if you're something he's not allowed to have, and his lips feel like a heaven in a world far away from you. Alkaid kisses you like he's not allowed to, like the two of you are destined to break as soon as one of you step over the line.
Luo Xia / Lars
Lars kisses you with both hands on your cheek as he leans over you to the best of his ability, the love bleeding from his chest to yours as he presses it to yours, and he kisses you like he's going to spend tomorrow and forever with you. He kisses you like that moment in time is the only thing that matters, even if you're going to leave someday. Yet, he kisses you in the present, a sense of determination that he'll never lose you, and even when he presses his tongue into your mouth for more, he is there, and so are you.
Si Lan / Clarence
Clarence kisses you like he knows there are many more to come. His fingers wrap around your waist gently as he tilts his head to slot his lips against yours better. He kisses you like he knows that you are his destined one in this world, and the way he rests his hand on the back of your head to help you angle is a reminder of how far the two of you have come. He kisses you like he's sure you're the one destined for him, and that you have eternity ahead of the two of you, so there's no rush.
Ye Xuan / Cael
Cael kisses you awkwardly, his fingers curled next to him as he's scared to touch you, worried that if he does, he'd be committing some kind of sin, that he'd break you by kissing you back too hard. He kisses you like he's not supposed to, fingers delicate against your skin as his thumb brushes your cheek and he tucks your hair behind your ear, his eyes half-lidded as he takes in your expression, always worried that some higher deity outside of his control would steal you away at any moment.
SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT FOR AYN’S STORY: The Dispute (Ch. 15, Part 3)
You stare at him, confused. “But you’re the one who told me not to expose myself, or—“
“I’m starting to regret telling you that,” he cuts you off, quieter now. “I…” His eyes move up to meet yours, hesitant — then his fist clenches, and his mouth snaps shut. His jaw twitches, alternating between focusing on you and keeping his gaze to the floor.
“Ayn?” you say softly, moving forward. “Are you… okay—”
Suddenly, he pulls you into him. You let out a surprised gasp, cheeks warming, and find yourself hyper-aware of him, him, him — Ayn, Ayn, Ayn. How his hand tightens on your lower back, how he pushes your hair from your neck, so gentle and so sweet that you forget everything — all that death and sacrifice and vengeance — and focus him and that horrible, pained look that’s settled on his face.
Just as you raise your hand to feel the wound, Ayn’s head falls to your neck. And when he presses his lips to it, uncaring of the poisoned blood and the torn flesh, you don’t dare breathe.
You’re not sure how long it goes on for, this unbearably intimate moment between the both of you. You’re melting in his arms, leaning against the wall, while he keeps his cheek on your shoulder, his lips an inch away from the shallow gash. You feel like you’re floating. You feel like you’re sinking. You’re not sure how you feel, because this is everything, everything, and it still isn’t enough. You want more. You’re greedy, so greedy, and you can’t help but want even more.
And Ayn must be a mind-reader, because a few seconds after this traitarous thought has settled in your mind, he whispers, voice hoarse and trembling, into your ear: “Be my queen. When all of this is over — once everything has come to pass — please, be my queen.”
