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#wayv fluff
dawn-in-neocity · 3 months
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best friend (™️) wayv !
that’s just your bf, i’m sorry
kun
husband material wow. is so so sweet and gentle with you i’m jealous. casually does shit straight out of movies. like what do you mean he booked and planned the wholeee day for your birthday. absolutely melts when you show him the same affection. turns tomato red and can’t stop smiling. prefers calling over texting because he “just wants to hear your voice.” gives the warmest hugs.
ten
you’re each other’s person, simply put. your nr 1 hypeman. encourages you to do fun adventurous things when you doubt yourself. y’all are basically the human embodiment of my aesthetic pinterest boards. goes out of his way to impress you because he just thinks you’re the most interesting person in the world. half of your feed consists of pictures taken by him. keeps joking about getting a tattoo related to you.
winwin
the only man ever. subtly shows his love. like fixing your necklace if the clasp is in the front. or holding your hands in his when it’s cold. “i brought you this cupcake, it’s really good.” pays attention to small things. like when you were stressed about how messy your bathroom was so he just casually got you an organizer. gets flustered when you hug him or kiss his cheek. (he loves it though).
xiaojun
you guys are so sweet omg. has a special nickname for you. loves pinching your chin or stroking your cheek :(. has this dopey, dreamy smile on his face whenever he’s watching you be cute. which is always, you’re always cute to him. the first person to notice if you’re upset and will do anything and everything to help. dramatically serenades you with a spoon while you’re cooking together.
hendery
always has an arm slung over your shoulders. loves telling you stupid jokes in your ear when you’re meant to be serious. biter. just gets this impulse to stick his chompers in your shoulder. gets nervous and blanks sometimes bc of how attracted he is to you. sends you shirtless snaps with his cats™️. gets all happy and teases you when your friends refer to him as your boyfriend.
yangyang
you have sooo much fun together omd. no wonder you’re together 24/7. always keeps your go to snacks STOCKED in his place. never lets you pay for anything. thinks you're the funniest person on earth. like he swears spending time with you is an ab workout. he is down horrendous for you and is past the point of caring to hide it. keeps forgetting it's mutual tho so he nearly has a heart attack whenever you compliment him or kiss his cheek.
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hugs2doie · 6 months
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can u do wayv texts like they’re ure bff and they kinda flirt with you sometimes? idk if that even made sense😭😭 and can u make it fluffy
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wayv (flirty) bff texts
enjoyoyoyooy :3
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suhnshinehaos · 8 months
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yikes! | nct 96z roomies
synopsis : the one where your ex makes an appearance and your roomies have some... choice words pairing : nct96z [ tn, kn, dy ] x gn!reader genre/s : university + roommates au, fluff, one-shot smau contains : swearing, a cheating, asshole ex
read more nct 96z roomies ! date gone wrong / hoodie thieves / exam week pickup
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from reese, with love <3
okay it's getting late here buuuut i missed my nct roomies and this idea crossed my brain hahaha thank you for reading ! as always i'd love to know what you think- all your replies/asks/rbs are much appreciated ! hope you're all doing well and taking care <3
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luvkyu · 17 days
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dear soulmate ( dong sicheng/winwin )
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sicheng x male reader
just boys falling in love tbh <3
content : 0.6k words, fluffy fluffy
( a/n ) this one's for the lauvers !!!! this is kinda short - im listening to laufey today and she gives me writing motivation so this winwin fluff was born in between the other fics im working on
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do you live in new york city,
or a couple towns away?
wherever you are, i'd jump in my car,
just to see you today.
"excuse me, can i sit here?"
sicheng looked up, taking one of his earbuds out. the man in front of him was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on. he quickly cleared his throat, nodded, and gave a warm smile.
"sure, of course."
"thank you. i didn't expect it to be so crowded here."
sicheng nodded again and looked around the café. all the tables were occupied, and the line was longer than usual. he assumed it was because it was lunch time on a weekend.
the man now sitting across from him began taking his phone and laptop out of his bag. the sun was hitting his skin perfectly from the large window beside their table. he looked almost ethereal, as if right out of a movie.
"i like your nails a lot," the man complimented. sicheng's eyes widened, looking down at his black and silver nails that ten had painted for him just last night.
"oh, thank you. my friend likes to paint people's nails."
the man laughed quietly, "that's cute."
sicheng looked down at his book with a bashful smile.
the man got back to work on his computer after that. he picked up his phone for just a moment, then set it back down on the table before putting one air pod in his left ear.
sicheng carefully sneaked a peak at the man's phone, as the screen was still lit with the song he was listening to. sicheng's heart sped up when he instantly recognized the album on the phone. how could he not recognize it when it was the same exact album and song he was listening to right at that moment? he pulled out his own phone and watched it turn on, displaying the song dear soulmate.
sicheng felt the blush on his face getting more apparent by the second. he looked back up at the man as he typed away on his computer. but before sicheng knew it, the other's eyes were gazing right back at him. he smiled again and gently sat his laptop aside.
"i'm y/n."
sicheng's brows raised in slight surprise. processing what was happening, he tried to smile again and sat up straight. he was completely oblivious to how effortlessly cute he was.
"i'm sicheng," he replied. "you like laufey?"
y/n looked down at his phone, then smiled.
"mhm! you too?"
sicheng nodded eagerly, raising his own phone now to show the song they were sharing.
y/n's smile grew at this. their eyes lingered on each other for a moment, both feeling the flicker of a connection.
"..are you seeing her on tour here tomorrow night?" y/n asked.
"i am actually!" sicheng chimed.
y/n gazed at him in admiration. he loved the way his face lit up in excitement.
"maybe we could get drinks or something after the concert then?" y/n suggested.
"yes please," sicheng agreed quickly. he then unlocked his phone and gave it to y/n, "let's exchange numbers?"
y/n nodded and gave his own phone in return, "here's mine."
sicheng held the device and typed in his number. he had a feeling something beautiful had just started with y/n, and all because of a crowded café and a song.
dear soulmate,
i can't wait to fall in love with you.
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rainbowhao · 3 months
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spilled secrets ♡ yangyang
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genre: comedy ⭒ word count: 0.5k
[ “are you serious?” he asks a moment later, taking another hesitant sip of his drink—for all yangyang knows, you’ll be telling him xiaojun’s in love with him next; that’ll really make him snort it out his nose. ]
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
“how come you’re always hugging him?” 
yangyang’s comment takes you by surprise. he raises his eyebrows in question, pink lips pursed as he sips his milk tea. you glance toward the entrance of the cafe; you can see ten’s retreating figure through the window, heading back to practice after a quick lunch.
“are you jealous?” you joke.
he responds all too casually, “yeah.”
your eyes widen. “you like ten?”
yangyang chokes, boba nearly getting stuck in his throat at your ridiculous words. he lets out several loud coughs, cheeks turning red before eventually catching his breath. his hand slams down on the small table while looking up at you, eyes nearly covered by his overgrown bangs.
“what did you just say?” he says incredulously. you’re getting ready to repeat yourself when he bursts into laughter, mouth widening to reveal the gummy smile you adore. “are you serious?” he asks a moment later, taking another hesitant sip of his drink—for all yangyang knows, you’ll be telling him xiaojun’s in love with him next; that’ll really make him snort it out his nose.
you lean back in your seat, head tilting. “i’m confused. didn’t you say you’re jealous? wait—were you just being sarcastic?” you mentally face-palm. you should have figured he was messing around. for all the years you’d known each other, the word sincerity had never been in your best friend’s vocabulary.
this only has yangyang giggling harder. “you’re really dumb, huh?” his tone is gentler than you expect. now he’s insulting you? in a cute way? what the hell were you missing?
the next several minutes are spent in deep contemplation while the two of you finish your drinks. he leads you out the building with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, muttering about you owing him compensation for nearly choking to death.
“don’t talk like that around ten.” he brings a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. “he’ll lose his shit.” he’s grown out his hair at your request, blonde strands matching the pastel shirt he wears today. you reach into your jean pocket, pulling out your sunglasses before offering them to him with a smile.
“weren’t you the one who insinuated it?”
“nope.” he shakes his head. “i’m jealous of you, babe. get it now?” he bites his lip, glancing at you nervously. his arm still hangs on your shoulder, fingers brushing your skin as you walk. your glasses now rest on the tip of his nose. subtlety doesn’t work on you—that much is clear—so screw it. he was tired of dancing around the fact he likes you anyway.
“you’re kind of hugging me right now though, aren’t you?”
he hums, lips tugging in amusement. “i want more than this, though.”
“like what?” your gently push your elbow into his side, directing him further to the side when you hear a car approaching from behind. 
“how about we go on a date?” any cheekiness is gone now. his fingertips graze your collarbone. he continues when you don’t immediately respond. “i’m being serious. let me take you out.” 
this is a plot twist you're not expecting; somehow the idea of yangyang liking his group mate was more believable than him secretly crushing on you. the unexpected revelation of his true feelings has your heart racing, but even so, you still can't help but ask, “are you paying?”
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wincore · 2 months
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indelicate | liu yangyang
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pairing: yangyang x fem!reader
synopsis: missing the last train out of new shanghai was not on the to-do list. however, your project partner liu yangyang promises fun, dazzling lights, and the warmth of a human connection for this festive weekend. perhaps even in the era of diamond and steel, the human touch means something after all.
genre: oriental cyberpunk, f2l, fluff
warning(s): swearing & several innuendos. also out-of-date jokes sorry guys i wrote this in 2021
words: 11.9k
a/n: this is just a rework of an old fic i posted here with another character! if you find any inconsistencies, it's probably because of that LOL also this is not a wincore revival but i did miss everyone on here !!
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i. city plaza
Some idiot, somewhere along in history, decided to renovate a city into something so dazzling that the population shoots up to a hundred and fifty percent of what was before, and the rest of the damage comes along with the people. Promises are made and broken to build this city of extravagance. You have the belief that the more people there are in one place, the more difficult it gets to live there. This dazzling hellscape means colliding into too many people on the streets, too many bright lights outside your dorm room when you’re trying to sleep and the god awful sound of deafening firecrackers at every new year celebration.
Another idiot somehow roped you into his ‘midnight adventure: traditional version’ once he heard you missed the last train ticket out of the city. Liu Yangyang has a terrible way with words—but he has a way.
You were, by some unfortunate gamble of the gods, partners for a project that accounted for sixty percent of the grade. While that affair is over, you still haven't rid yourself of the predicament that is Yangyang. Gorgeous, yes, but too overwhelming. You smack your head against the car window only for him to jump in his seat beside you, hand gently driving over your forehead to check for damage. The neon city lays around you, and festive light projections float across the sky in intricate shapes of the ox and written messages. This is going nowhere. You came to this city sacrificing everything and yet suddenly, everything’s hanging on a string again.
The city lights of New Shanghai are cruel. Everything in this place is cruel.
Which is exactly why you’re in Yangyang’s car, parked by the middle level city plaza on New Year’s Eve. It is, in fact, illegal to hover by the city plaza on New Year’s Eve but Yangyang seems to either not care or simply doesn’t know. You forget the law doesn’t exist for rich kids. Out of all man-made wonders, rules are the most interesting. 
“Shall we go?” he asks, voice bubbly as ever. Every morning, he chirps like the alarm birds outside your window. Yes, it has made you want to sleep forever at times.
“It’s just one night. And I’ll be with you, so you don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” you snap. 
“Not afraid of the dark either?”
You pull your jacket closer to you. Here, the cold streets of the techno-jungle make you shiver more often than not. If you dare go out without friends, a city so grand will inevitably drain the life out of you. Your body alone cannot withstand the dazzle. And—you can’t be afraid of the dark after you’ve complained about the lights.
You look at Yangyang and back to the cityscape outside—large conglomerative blocks of buildings, some hosting advertisements with the faces of inhumanly beautiful models and some with the ‘Happy New Year!’ text animation floating about in increasingly complex patterns. You see the revolving top of one of the grandest skyscrapers, a Dior hotel, not the tallest but certainly the most pleasing to look at. It gleams from red to orange like the pulsating heart of a giant metropolitan beast. There are more funky buildings to look at, some not even the shape of austere corporate skyscrapers.
“Do you wanna go there?” Yangyang asks all of a sudden. “I heard the lounge is closed off from eleven. I can call some friends and we can book a room though—”
“No. No way. I’m not going to spend new year’s eve in a Dior suite.”
He grins. “Thank god. It’s so boring there. Only models and businessmen and whatever freak shit they do.”
You sigh. Liu Yangyang is a whole story in itself. He’s rich and popular—a dream of many—but so few are as welcoming as he is. When you’re in that position, you’re bound to have a little metal seep into your heart. Some hidden part of you, however, tells you to loosen up when you’re with him; just let it go and have a good time. There’s no reason why you shouldn't. The economy is on a steep incline, the people are happy and no other city compares to this place. You could learn a thing or two from Yangyang.
He looks at you questioningly, eyes waiting and the curve of his lips still. You notice his platinum blond hair is more styled than usual, you can almost smell the gel on it, and for a moment, you wish you looked as good as he does. A dark leather jacket accentuates his shoulders, the plain T-shirt underneath not of the flashy type. He looks like he’s ready for club-hopping and you, anything but. If you knew earlier that you’d be by the Strip around midnight on New Year’s, you'd have dressed better. 
“If you stay any longer in my car, people are going to assume we’re…y’know,” he states, quirking his eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, though. Like, who thought fu—”
You were wrong. There is absolutely nothing to learn from Liu Yangyang. 
“I would get out of this car immediately and fall to my death before I let that happen,” you retort, crossing your arms.
“No, hey. What an inauspicious sentence. Besides, and I’m not bragging but you should know I’m really good at using my assets—”
“Don’t say a word.”
The heat of embarrassment flows into your cheeks at his implication. You look out the window, weighing out the pros and cons. The scenery is so bright that sometimes it hurts to look outside. It’s not midnight yet but the main streets are already getting crowded for the processions; the sound of laughter and conversation ring in the air. It makes you somewhat sad to not be home for this. But as they say, living in a big city can only be done if you sell your soul to it.
You’re directly above the level one city plaza, the people below looking unsettling in the way they’re so small and far away—they don’t even seem human at this distance. You wonder if you look like that to the people above this, to the level three elites who sit on top of the whole city..
You look back to your companion, who’s transfixed on the bakery across the road—either that, or just really, really zoned out. Knowing Yangyang, it could be either. When you tilt your head, waiting, you find that he has pretty features—a shaped nose and round, curious eyes, all in perfect alignment with plump, pink lips. His metallic ring earrings shine when the light hits them right. No wonder you get girls asking how close the two of you are often. Even in a world pushing manufactured love, boys like him make others daydream. You wonder why you’re the one he loves to drag in with him.
Yangyang flinches when he finds you staring at him. You clear your throat, looking away and hoping you can sweep this under the rug.
“Are you- are you by any chance mad at me?” he asks, a nervous smile awkwardly tugging at his lips.
“I- what? No. I’m not mad at you.”
“You look like my mother when I don’t clean my room. Or Ten's cats when I try to kiss them.”
A tiny laugh escapes you before you get back your poised demeanor. “I’m- I’m not mad at you.”
He smiles at you wordlessly and you feel a little conscious. You glance outside when the plaza music starts to get loud and look back at him, debating whether you should just give in.
“So… you’ll let me brighten your life now?” he asks in his regular baritone, grinning wider. “The semester’s over and it’s festival time! I bring good luck, I promise.”
Liu Yangyang is not a happy serendipity. He simply cannot be. However, he does make you laugh more often than you’d admit.
“Whatever. Go ahead. I just don’t want to be hungover on a Friday.”
“You don’t- you don’t have to drink to have a good time.” He laughs. “I would know. I’m sort of a lightweight. I don’t know why I told you that. I’m supposed to be cool.”
You giggle, taking a moment to think.
“Fine then. Show me your magical access key to our beloved Mobius Strip, the mightiest, grandest structure in all of New Shanghai.”
“Well, if you put it that way… I am pretty cool, huh?”
His smile is too harmless for you to roll your eyes. He’s too gentle, you realize all of sudden, to be as awful as all the uni frat boys you’ve had the misfortune of talking to. You watch him as he drives; his arm moves with ease and he tries to make conversation but you can only hum and respond in singular words. The closer you are to the Strip the more nervous you get. It’s like visiting all those dark places that your mother explicitly warned you not to visit as a teenager—but you’re an adult now. No one owns you. No one should be able to own you. The determination builds up slowly over neon lights and hazy street shops.
Nights here are the fun part. Everyone says that. Other than the fact that you can barely make out the colour of the sky under the vivid city lights, there’s something very enticing about the streets, the upper streets that wind around the city.
Yangyang drives the car to a level three street, the behemoth structure of the Strip now so close that all you can see beyond your window are its placid, white walls stretching out to infinity. You can see little gardens and shops, peeking out from between each strip and one of the shopkeepers wave at you the moment you pass. Yangyang says something along the lines of “thanks for the free noodles” to the woman, before gliding higher. 
“Grandma makes the best glass noodles here,” he says, excitedly. “I’ll take you sometime. If you like.”
You hum, noting the joy he expresses at the idea of something so simple. 
Level three streets are already thousand and a half feet above the ground. You try not to look down; heights aren’t something you’re very fond of even if you love the sky. You note construction work for street levels four and five, shivering at the idea. The winds of change are fucking cold.
Yangyang swerves the car off-road at one point and you clutch his arm by reflex.
“What the fuck? Don’t do that without warning me,” you say, breathing quicker. You do not do well with: sudden movement, jumpscares and boys with pretty smiles.
“Sorry,” he says, looking at you with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You let go of his arm, more embarrassed at yourself than mad at him. Driving the car closer to the Strip, he brakes carefully by the parking lot. The walls are covered in red wallpaper, a few lanterns attached to drones, floating along the path inside. It looks like a rooftop parking lot, though the mysterious dim lighting makes you walk closer to Yangyang.
“I heard this is gonna be a really cool event—they’ve got the latest AI tech hosting and crap but let me tell you the best part.”
He pauses for dramatic effect. 
“The food!” He says, spreading his arms and grinning. “The food at private events is the best thing you’ll ever taste.”
You open your mouth but close it again in part horror, part confusion. “You’re… taking me to a private event?”
“Ah, don’t look like that. It’s really fun, promise.”
“I’m not even dressed for it,” you blurt, embarrassed.
Yangyang shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s for rich kids, you know? If I’m being honest, none of them know how to dress.”
His confident statement gets a giggle out of you and you relax a little. You walk with him, further into the square platform and away from the cars. The sky disappears behind the dark roof and for a moment, you feel like you’ve entered a different dimension. It’s like the architecture models that your professors had on display for the Shanghai History class in your freshman year. Old stuff, that is. Before this place even had the first skyscraper.
You turn to your side and narrow your eyes at Yangyang, suddenly wondering how he finagled his way into bringing you here. Your iron-clad will is not so much iron after all. It’s not even steel, you think, once you catch yourself staring at Yangyang a bit too long.
You step forward to find the entrance to the club; it’s a little lonely to look at in the beginning. Then it clicks that it’s probably the back door. The red pillars encase a black door between them, the overhang of the gateway just a little above Yangyang’s head. You can see the hip-and-gable style roof of the larger building behind, looking like a skyscraper instead of the usual historical buildings you’ve seen on the internet. In glowing red letters, it displays a blinking ‘Club 2’ near the top of the door.
The moment you step on the stairs, a bunch of advertisements pop up on the door, bright bubblegum colours hurting your eyes. Yangyang taps at the little x at the corner of the display till it disappears and finally the door is a regular door. The colour is jet black like any other screening platform. 
“I thought the rich were exempted from ads,” you say.
“They’re… more likely to buy things though.”
You make an ‘ah’ sound in contemplation when a whirring makes you jump into him. A little spherical drone flies its way out of an opening in the wall and stops right in front of the two of you. 
“Sicheng-ge!” Yangyang says, waving frantically at the camera.
The little drone circles around Yangyang’s head before stopping right in front of his face. It runs a scan before turning sharply and beeping at you. 
“My plus one!” Yangyang declares, pulling you by the waist. “Or whatever it’s called.”
Your ears feel warm but you don’t push him off. The camera focuses on your face, likely scanning to identify your age and occupation. When it’s done, a beep resounds and the door slides open to reveal a dimly lit pathway. The main entrance is much brighter, Yangyang promises, but for now it’s just the warm glow of the lanterns, Yangyang’s neon red striped jacket and the mechanical whirring of some sort of device in the darkness.
“What’s that sound?” you whisper and Yangyang stops. 
He pauses to think. “Oh, they’re Sicheng-ge’s drones. He’s got like a million of them. I'll introduce you—he’s hosting this club event, by the way.”
He smiles at you reassuringly. If Yangyang’s not bothered by it, you’ll follow his lead. Though, you do take more nimble steps and stay close to him like he’s your lighthouse. (In a way, he is, with all that neon shining on his jacket.)
You’re surprised to find a garden, but then it gets stranger when you see brighter lanterns in the middle area. You see figures and before you can react, Yangyang takes your hand and into the central platform.
ii. orchid club square
Yangyang was right. None of them know how to dress.
The two of you stand in the middle of a crowd, who are in fact dressed either for: a) an impromptu pool party or b) a Sunday morning lecture. You blend in somewhat well given the variety though Yangyang’s painted looks have attracted the attention of quite a few giggling, murmuring onlookers.
You clench your jaw in mild annoyance. 
“This is a tour,” Yangyang whispers to you. “I thought… you’d like to know what everything’s about.”
You feel grateful to him for once. Having some sort of knowledge about what you’re getting into makes you feel better about any situation. A set of mechanical clicking fills the air.
A woman—no, an AI bot is the first to greet you. She has pale white metallic skin and her dark strands of hair are in a traditional updo. Her lips are imperial red, shaped in a way that makes her seem as though she’s smiling but also not at the very same time. She holds an extravagant fan by her face at the perfect right angle, the patterns on it painted to imitate an ancient cherry blossom tree. 
“Good evening, everyone,” she says, her voice pitched up and enthusiastic. It’s a little funny to imagine metal so lively.
You smell oranges and lavender as soon as she flicks her fan once and precise. 
“Welcome to the New Shanghai nightlife!” The bot continues jovially. “The oldest surviving city on planet earth, the birthplace of the human race.”
“You are in virtual space,” she informs. “It might look like a courtyard stretching to infinity but it is only an illusion. However, the club is five hundred and sixty one metres wide and six hundred and twelve metres long. It is large enough to hold twenty-one blue whales in a line. That is, if they still existed of course.”
She giggles algorithmically.
“Where you stand right now,” she says, turning her head in a swift mechanical motion to you and you flinch. “This place is called the orchid club square. As you know, only VIP access lets you in.”
You glance at Yangyang worriedly and he shrugs. There’s no way she could know, right? That was oddly specific. But then she moves her head left to right to address the whole crowd in perfect grace. When her movement starts to get a little too eerie to watch any longer, you fix your eyes on the garden instead. You have no way of telling part real flowers from virtual ones and even so—all of them are beautiful. Maybe reality doesn’t make things any prettier.
However, when you look at Yangyang, the thought gets tossed out. You shake your head, in an attempt to get rid of the image of his face. It’s a little too late to be feeling this way. Either that, or the night is taking its toll on you already. The day was exhausting, considering it was the end of the semester.
The AI guide’s chatter fades into something quieter when you move the club square. It’s a rather empty space, fitting for a rave or just housing large crowds. The decorations are for the new year celebrations, banners of the ox in auspicious colours and a few drones projecting the rest. There’s a garden of evermore orchids lining the area in a perfect square and it’s so precise that it’s pleasing to look at. There’s a door at one edge, similar to the one you encountered before entering the club square.
The music that wafts through the air is so gentle, you almost forget there’s a celebration. The beat makes it livelier and even so, the rhythm of your heartbeat matches it in a soothing sort of way. Turning around, you spot the musical ensemble. It’s another AI, peering over a guqin with trained habit.
She looks the same, except she wears an electronic mask over the lower half of her face. It displays a blue musical note made up of noticeable pixels. She has no fan—instead, her fingers strum the guqin rhythmically, programmed with precision and grace. The sound is accompanied by the woodwind notes of a flute, though you’re not sure where that sound emanates from. There’s also a soft drumbeat which seems to come from the guqin bot herself.
You gasp when a few painted goldfish float through the air, almost real to look at if it weren’t for the glitch effect of holograms. One of them swims closer to you, opening and closing its mouth in rhythm and you giggle at its face.
Yangyang laughs, long finger pointing at the critter in amusement. “That’s adorable.”
He looks like a little kid and you giggle at his expression, with wide, delighted eyes and mouth open in focused mirth. He pokes at the goldfish and it makes a bubbling sound, gears shifting in ticking time before suddenly biting at his index finger. Yangyang lets out a low yelp, retracting his hand before clearing his throat in embarrassment.
“You’re like a cartoon,” you tell him, in between laughs. “No way are you real.”
He grins, in that same way he always looks at you and you look away, feeling hot in the face. It’s too enamored a way to look at someone. But of course, that couldn’t be true—he’s Liu Yangyang and you’re you. Parallel lines do not meet, even if they’re headed in the same direction.
“I think you’re unreal,” he mumbles.
iii. club 2
The doors open to a rather spacious arrangement, with several tables one one side and a sort of dance arena on the other where people are trying to out-dance each other. The intensity makes you move further away from it. It seems a little too festive and you can feel the energy slinking away from you. The music is more upbeat but you suppose the DJ tried to make it sound more eastern; the result is pleasing. He wears a smooth black helmet with a neon red beat visualizer on it, with written SFX appearing from time to time. Two pulsing golden horns glow at the sides of his head. You stare at it for longer than you’d like before composing yourself. You’re very impressionable when it comes to parties. 
There are two floors to the club, above the bottom floor itself. The other two floors mostly seem to consist of private booths, however, covered with gossamer silk that glow iridescent. A few floating lanterns sway by the upper floors. The ceiling is open to a midnight blue sky and the stars look much larger than you’ve ever seen them—you suspect it’s an AR mesh over the ceiling. A few light shows project little dancing dragons and coins over the sky and you find them too cute to not stare at.
“Wow,” Yangyang says, right after walking in. “Why is Dejun on the table?”
You look where his eyes are focused on, though it’s difficult through the crowd of people, and find Dejun and Kunhang in some sort of old anime transformation pose atop one of the tables. It’s surprising that they’re not the weirdest pair here. 
“Now, bear with me, it’s going to be boring as hell till the countdown and the fireworks,” he explains, waving his hands around. “But it’s a good place to have fun and make friends. You know?”
“Friends?” you ask, a little nervous. You’re not very proficient at making friends and it makes you anxious.
“Yeah! Don’t worry. ” He makes a strange gesture, bordering between posing for a beer ad campaign and looking like a motivational speaker for the army, before furrowing his eyebrows. “You just have to be confident! I’m learning too!”
He lets out a sweet laugh and it makes you laugh in turn, hand covering your mouth so you don’t embarrass yourself too much. You don’t believe the words much, but the glow over his cheeks makes you reconsider.
“You look really nice when you laugh,” he comments, a bright glint in his eyes.
“Whatever,” you reply, punching his shoulder lightly.
Just then, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder to find Lana from your ethical AI class, smiling at you warmly. She looks a little tired, of people more than the time. Like you, she is also a scholarship student—and not a day has gone when she hasn’t soothed your anxiety about your classes. In stark contrast with Yangyang, you would trust her over him for most tasks. Even if you weren’t partners, you’re okay with the outcome. You glance at Yangyang.
“(name)! Oh my god, I didn’t know you were coming here,” she says. “Did Yangyang kidnap you?” 
“I mean, sort of.”
“Hey.” Yangyang looks at you with betrayal.
“And how did you even manage to do that cool ass project with him as your partner?” she continues, squinting at him.
“Honestly, I don’t know either. He can be surprisingly helpful though.”
Yangyang looks from Lana to you in exasperation. “I’m literally right here,” he grumbles. 
Lana laughs at his expression, patting his shoulder sympathetically. 
“I just can’t believe you let him kidnap you and not me,” she says in mock indignance. “I’m a much better chauffeur, you know?”
“Do you even have a driving license?” Yangyang asks, laughing.
“I got mine before you, rat. Anyway, (name), I’m playing the guzheng. Do you wanna come see?”
“No,” Yangyang interrupts, suddenly grabbing your hand. “I… I mean you guys can go, of course. It's just the countdown’s close, so we have to go to the viewpoint.”
“That’s exactly where—ah. I see.”
"We'll join you another time, Lana," he says quietly, a cute grin on his face like a little boy would make to an older sister for more shares of chocolate. 
"No, no. I actually remembered I left my friends in the corner. See you!"
She leaves her epiphany unsaid, offering you a smile and taking her leave abruptly.
“I thought you told me to socialize,” you complain to Yangyang. 
“Yes, I’m so proud of you for that.”
“Yangyang, I swear if you treat me like a kid—”
“I’m not, I’m not. Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I just need to borrow you for tonight. After all, I promised you, didn’t I?”
You sigh. “Fine then, what’s this viewpoint you’re talking about?”
“Oh, we’ll get there.”
Someone’s watching you. You turn around a full three-sixty but find only the same crowd of college-age kids. No one sticks out much, apart from Dejun, Kunhang and Ten, who are at this point performing some sort of strange ritual unbeknownst to any new year tradition, with a hell load of yelling.
“Oh my god, you’re dancing too?” Yangyang says, grinning ear to ear. “I didn’t know I’d have that much of a positive influence. Wow.”
“I’m- I’m not- never mind.”
Yangyang furrows his eyebrows. “What did I tell you? More confidence! See—”
He takes your hands in his, pulling you further onto the dance floor. You feel a rising panic but swallow it. There’s a beat of silence in which the two of you look at each other. Yangyang proceeds to perform the stupidest sequence of movements you have ever seen, certainly too awkward for his body to accept as natural but it doesn’t seem like he cares. He’s having fun.
You find yourself laughing. Taking timid steps, you try to loosen up although the inevitable embarrassment arrives in flushes of heat across your face. There are stars in Yangyang’s eyes when you join him—not the artificial jewels in observatories but the real kind that you used to see in your hometown.
You take a wobbly step back. It’s starting to get disorienting. If it were the real sky above you, you might even have felt better. Perhaps the purpose is to get dizzy.
“I’m a little thirsty,” Yangyang says, motioning to the table with food and drinks at a corner. “I’ll head over and be back.”
Unsure what to do, you follow him like a lost lamb and though it would be embarrassing at any other time, any other place, now and here are not part of that.
The red and golden lights of the neon patterning the walls don’t seem as harsh anymore and you let your eyes rest on the boyish figure of Yangyang. You haven’t figured him out yet. Something tells you he’s more than a shallow image of the party-loving rich kids of Shanghai. In fact, in quiet, personal moments, he looks more out of place than you do—despite all that bright neon. You open your mouth to ask something when you’re interrupted by a dizzy Yangyang spinning into you. 
“Sorry, (name),” he says, rubbing the base of his palm against his forehead. “I genuinely thought I was going to win that game.”
You shake your head, letting him get back to whatever spinning game they were at. He smells like wine and something tells you he’s poor at holding his liquor. The stakes must be high for that game, you figure, because you see Yangyang set aside his beloved shoe on the floor. To be the only scholarship student here suddenly feels scary and awkward.
Yangyang once again tugs at your arm, the touch reassuring as though he understands how you feel. But it isn’t true. There’s no way someone like him can understand someone like you.
“Yangyang,” you call. “Do you come here every year?”
“No, no. I do come for drinks though. I’m only here right now because a friend is hosting this.”
You shrug.
“And you,” he adds and you feel a hot flush rise to your face. “New years are the only time this place is PG-13.”
“I’m not a child,” you snap.
“My mom says childish people say that.”
“Then it's very rich coming from you, Liu Yangyang.”
He laughs heartily, leaning away. A creeping thought grows in your head that you missed out on a lot. But then again, you’ll always miss out on things if you’re not rich enough for them.
Yangyang flinches suddenly, almost knocking a plate off the table. He moves quickly, turning so that his side leans against the wall and the other arm cages you between him and the wall. His frame covers your view from whatever, or whoever arrived at the entrance that made him react so obnoxiously.
However, his lips hovering just a little over yours makes your breath hitch in your throat. This is the worst possible position you could've gotten into. The smell of mint interrupts your thoughts and you look at him with as annoyed an expression as you can muster over the heat of your face.
"Yangyang, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
“I am… admiring the wall. Ooh, it’s got velvet over it, did you notice?”
 “You’re going to have your head in it too if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
"Just… sorry. Let’s stay like this for a few moments."
He flashes you an apologetic smile, his face close enough to make yours grow even hotter. A nervous chuckle erupts from his lips. 
"Oh my god, get off. People are going to think we’re making out."
"We could do it for real." 
"I'm going to scratch your eyes out."
"Sorry, sorry."
“Who are you even hiding from?”
“I’m not hiding… okay, forget that. Bodyguard-watcher-dude. It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“You have a bodyguard?”
“More like a babysitter.”
You try not to laugh, considering the proximity between your faces. “How come you have a babysitter? Actually, wait, I think I know.”
He huffs over your face and you restrain yourself from landing a swift uppercut to his jaw. Now you know the minty smell comes from mouth freshener.
“He’s a prosecutor. It’s weird that he stalks me in his free time. Even- even if… my parents are paying him.”
“They think you’re doing something illegal?”
“No. I don’t think I am.”
You rest your head back against the wall, rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s your answer? God, your brain cells rotted somewhere along the way, didn’t they? It’s all those parties.”
“I’m starting to feel like my mom hired you too.”
He looks back, and noting the absence of his so-called babysitter, he pulls back from you. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath and you let it out in a shallow effort.
“Your babysitter’s gone?”
“Not a babysit—I regret saying that. Look, I really don’t think they appointed him because they think I’m doing something illegal. I have never done anything illegal. Except that one street race but that’s because Lucas told me it was perfectly legal.”
“The what?”
“Anyway, the point is, let’s look forward to good fortune for this year, hm? Leave all the burdens to last year.”
“Fortune doesn’t favour fools.”
“I’m not stupid,” he complains, spreading his arms to express it further. “Mostly.”
 You laugh, turning your attention to  the food table.
“Ooh, pineapple tarts,” he exclaims, hand reaching out to grab one when you smack it.
“You’ve had, like, fifteen already.”
“Mhm,” he says, with a few more stuffed in his mouth.
There’s a pause.
“It’s me, isn't it?” you ask quietly. “I’m not supposed to be here.”
He gulps, lips parting and closing. “I brought you here. So you don’t worry about it.”
Rich people suck. You believe that strongly. But sometimes, just sometimes, when you have everything you can ever want, you start to want the same for everyone around you. Some people are special. You find Yangyang genuinely fascinating for being someone who makes friends when he’s supposed to be making more connections. You find him fascinating. 
It makes sense for someone like him to be the way he is.
iv. fireworks viewpoint
“That’s the old Shanghai Tower,” Yangyang points to a building in the distance. “It used to be the tallest building once but… well, it looks like the little guy now.”
Lunar New Year’s celebrations are a big, big deal in New Shanghai. It means a break from university, work and every other affair to have as many priorities sorted in anticipation of the new year. And the impact is evident from this height, when you can see the city in its golden glory. It looks warm out there for once—although you’re not very sure if it’s because of the warmth that comes from right beside you. The little wooden boats float by on the river a little far off, various images blooming as holograms above them. You giggle at the large animated fishes swimming above the river with blank expressions and painted button eyes. 
The golden clock shines bright in the sky, its holographic hands ticking down to midnight. It looks like something out of a fantasy movie, scattering golden pixels everywhere with each minute passing. The size of it alone reminds you of the scale of this city.
This is an empire. It's owned by the kings and queens who built it over the bones left from sacrifices. It's going to be owned by heirs and heiresses. You feel a looming sense of dread come over you. It's so beautiful and it can never belong to itself. It must always belong to someone. It’s the terms and conditions of human creation.
"Hey." Yangyang taps you on the shoulder and you try not to flinch. "What are you thinking?"
You hum. "Stuff."
"This place is pretty cool, huh?"
That, you can agree with. "It is. It's so amazing that I can't believe I'm here sometimes."
Yangyang laughs slowly. "I hope more people can live here. Not in level one. You know. No one should live in desperation."
You hold back a scoff, though you end up frowning. What does a rich kid know of desperation? He might as well be prince, and princes do not know how to beg. It must be something of a saviour complex. You shrink away from him. The new year music is starting to ring a little too loud in your ears.
"That would be difficult," you mutter.
"Not if you lower the cost of living conditions—ah. Sorry." He pauses and you feel a flicker of surprise in you. “It’s not appropriate to discuss. Or so my parents tell me…”
The expression comes from empathy. You’re sure of it. There’s some sort of passion and not the kind of coloured fire that flames up in parties, but a different one. The kind that says, if you can’t bear the heat then you can’t learn how to forge. You scoff. Which prince has possibly known heat?
“I- I get angry too,” you say quietly. “I think it’s something to be angry about.”
He smiles at you, leaning against the balcony railing. 
You’re interrupted by a man in the attire of a waiter and it causes the two of you to jump away from each other. It’s not like you were very close in the first place but the proximity of shared words can play tricks on people. The man offers the two of you a screen and Yangyang’s face lights up almost immediately.
“We can order food with this,” he says. “Or book a table. The top strips are all reserved for members of the club. That’s the big daddy restaurants.”
“That’s… pretty cool,” you say, leaning in to glance over the browsing menu. “But don’t say that phrase to me again.”
“I can. And I will.”
“Ugh. Move on.”
“Okay, so we should drop by the convenience store for some ramen. I heard they taste better in the middle of the night,” Yangyang suggests all of a sudden, leaning in further.
It gets difficult sometimes to not be bothered by him, especially when there is a lack of distance. You look at him, pause and then sigh. “Sure. I guess. Are those free too?”
He opens his mouth in sudden realization and grins sheepishly at you. You roll your eyes.
“Do you have money then?”
“Uh.”
“How do you not have money? It’s the New Year!”
“I… uh—”
“Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But I’m not paying for you,” you complain. “You could always ask your parents for some money. What’s the point of being a party kid?”
‘Party kids’—it makes you laugh in amusement—is the colloquial term given to the children of businesspeople who had a direct hand in the economic progress of New Shanghai. You would sell your kidneys to be one and it still wouldn’t be enough.
His smile wavers at your statement but he shakes his head. “If I call my mom, she’ll start scolding me again about how my apartment room needs to be cleaner. Blah, blah, blah. You know.”
“She’s right- wait, you don’t clean your room?”
“Don’t take her side, (name).” 
You bite down a smile and he offers you his biggest one. 
“Oh, that place looks new,” Yangyang exclaims, a long index finger pointing to the preview of a sushi restaurant. You glare at him, his face nearer to yours than you would prefer but his eyes are fixed like a child ogling halloween candy.
“Let’s go,” he urges, looking directly at you. 
You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. “We don’t have money. Or bit-credits.”
He sighs, deflating as though you just snatched the candy right from his hands. “But… I haven’t been there before.”
“So?” You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You don’t have to try every food place in the city.”
“I need to eat,” he says as though it’s a very reasonable response. “I’m still growing!”
“Not mentally.”
He drops his smile, looking at you blankly. “You don’t have to get so smart with me, let me tell you.”
You snicker at the ‘offended’ expression on his face.
In the next moment, your attention shifts to the sudden crowd of people rushing to the balcony. Yangyang pulls you closer to avoid getting pushed by them, and you look around confused. It all makes sense when they start chanting the numbers, counting down from ten. You can only stare in awe at the clock and the otherworldly glee in the rhythmic chants. It’s like they don’t feel anything but joy at this moment. You let yourself smile.
The clock strikes twelve. The sound of the bell resounds throughout the city and the firecrackers burst into a thousand shades of red and gold across the sky. There’s moving images of animals, floating text and other animations which make the night sky seem like a screen. The sparks of the fireworks look like golden snow, or even happy little pixels.
You point your finger to the sky excitedly but when you turn, Yangyang’s eyes aren’t on the sky but on your hand outstretched towards it. He faces you, rather hesitantly as though caught red-handed.
“You’re- you’re… so pretty,” he says, softly and shrugging as if answering a question.
You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that. It’s the lonely speaking, right? The euphoria of human connection in this time and age—it can make you believe anything. There’s a myriad of colours blooming in the sky behind you, a city dazzling with diamond and ruby lights, people with much more stories to tell than you do. This city, this city, this city. This city will break your heart. 
“It’s kind of crappy,” you mutter, to which Yangyang quirks an ear.
“Wh-what is?”
“This city. It’s got bright lights and fun and all those promises of success. But all I see are people desperately trying to survive. All I see are the same faces at the top and—I’m sorry. I’m getting carried away.”
“No, no.” He makes a vague gesture. “I’m listening.”
“We’re at their mercy,” you whisper. “My life is not my own. That’s crappy.”
Yangyang hums in response. “You're right. What’s the point of living a life that’s not your own?”
Looking at him again, you see the entire figure of his being against the fireworks and all the beautiful creations of the human race. His almost silver hair falls perfectly by his forehead, the contact lenses looking like glazed frost over his eyes. Just as vibrant and excessive as the city itself, Yangyang belongs here. This is his kingdom. 
No, that’s not quite right perhaps. Yangyang belongs anywhere because he brings warmth. You're suddenly grateful he's with you because no one you know would possibly go out of their way to make you feel comfortable like this. You know Yangyang loves people and crowds. No one would do that for you at the expense of their own enjoyment. You smile at the prospect of solving the blinding mystery that he is.
"We… should leave," Yangyang says, all of a sudden. He eyes a man at the corner of the balcony, dressed in a business suit and looking blank. He sticks out like a sore thumb. You're not sure why he's in that getup.
"Okay," you say, not sure why you're so agreeable tonight.
Maybe it's the night. Sometimes all you can do is drag your feet over the asphalt and hope it'll be sunnier tomorrow.
v. two-four-seven convenience store
College boys are the most god-awful creatures on earth.
“Hey, do you always reach class on time?” Yangyang asks, eyes curious. He keeps asking a question every five minutes or so, trying to keep up conversation. You've already told him he doesn't have to. However, it makes you strangely comfortable to hear the sound of his voice periodically. You won't tell him that.
You nod, returning your gaze to the window, though the advertisements block your view. You can always try skipping the ad every five goddamn seconds. 
It's your first time riding the train that travels through the Mobius Strip, and certainly the first time in a luxury cabin. Since it’s free for members of the new year club, you can heave a sigh of relief. You will never in your life, even if it’s genetically elongated, ever be able to afford a luxury cabin.
"Oh, that looks so good," Yangyang says, large hand smacking against the window to get rid of the colourful advertisements. 
"It's a convenience store, Yangyang," you say. "It's got everyday ramen."
"No, look. It's a different brand. And they're giving a burger for free with two ramen cups!"
You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Well, I guess it's cheaper too."
"Oh, we can go to one of the upper restaurants too. They're free, remember?"
"I like convenience stores," you mumble. There's something about the lack of even lighting and crowds that made them a comfort spot for you.
“Quick,” he says, pulling you off the seat when the train stops.
“Yangyang!” you warn. He's so easily excitable that you find it hard to believe he's real sometimes.
However, when he turns around with his big puppy-dog eyes, you curse at yourself before you curse at him. Sighing, you follow him down the steps, his hand tenderly holding yours. Sometimes, you wonder if the human touch means anything at all in this diamond and steel era. Yangyang’s palm is warm against yours.
The ramen tastes awfully delicious on stolen time, and you would complain more if it weren’t for Yangyang looking at you with so serene a look. It annoys you and you try to grab his attention by waving your chopsticks in front of him. When it doesn’t work, you resort to swearing. You’ve never seen anyone respond with a smiling hum after being told to “eat shit”.
“Oh, this tastes so good,” he states, cheeks puffed with food. “I think I’m going to cry.”
“I- I think you’re crying because it’s spicy.”
“Oh.”
As usual, Yangyang pokes and prods at you with questions about your daily life, like you’re the most interesting thing in a city full of blinding lights, world-class robots and cyber-enhanced technology. You don’t understand how he doesn’t just grow tired of asking every single detail about you.
Apart from the fact that Liu Yangyang is most certainly an environmental hazard, some part of you cannot believe that he's truly terrible. There's something innocent about him, but all at once, something quiet and mysterious. 
“Why are you always so curious, Yangyang?” you ask finally. “Why are you always running off to different places?”
“Because experiences never come twice,” he answers after some thinking. It seems to be a little difficult for him to articulate, deep contemplation over his features when he continues. “This city… all the lights and clubs and arenas, all of it will be gone someday. Like we don’t have telephones or those big computers anymore.”
You rest your chin on your palm, leaning in.
“This moment, right here with you… I’ll never experience it again,” he tells you. “We can have more midnight convenience store ramen sometime later but… each time will be different. I’d rather live now.”
You smile softly. “That’s a funny thought to live by.”
“Yours isn’t any better,” he says, patting your head. “Also, I’m like hot and young and popular and not a cyborg—how can I miss parties?”
You shake your head, laughing. He’s ridiculous. He’s completely ridiculous. In that moment, when you look at him, Yangyang seems to be smiling in a daze, eyes on your face.
“You look nice when you smile,” he says quietly.
"Thanks," you respond. "I should keep it a secret then, huh?"
"Not from me," he says, smiling. 
Somehow, the extra minutes you have at the convenience store turn to a few multiplayer games and then, ditching technology, to an arm wrestling match.
"I feel like this game is kind of unfair," you say after losing almost immediately. He's clearly got stronger muscles. Does he work out? Probably against his will, you bet.
“My right arm’s a lot stronger than my left arm,” he says, before looking a little horrified. “That wasn’t a masturbation joke, by the way. I am so sorry.”
You roll your eyes. "Give me your left hand then- wait. You're right-handed?"
"That's not the- uh." He thinks for a moment, trying to gather words. “That’s not the reason.”
“I, uh, I heavily damaged this arm when I was a kid—don’t look like that, there’s a fun part to this. It’s made of titanium! And some other things. The names are too complicated.”
You drive your fingers over the arm, so warm and real and flushed red, anything but metal and code. You find curiosity blooming in you more than ever before.
“You know why I’m not with family,” you say, straightening. “But why aren’t you celebrating with your family?” 
He gets quiet, thinking to himself for a few more moments. You almost regret asking when he answers, a hesitant sound leaving him first.
“None of us, uh… none of our parents can spare more than three hours. They’ll come in the afternoon tomorr—today.”
You can’t exactly respond to that very well.
“So all of us go hang out at the New Year’s Club.”
You frown. "But it's not a celebration without family!"
"We have new year lunches. And… it's the future. Traditions die. Very few grieve them for fear of being stuck in the past."
You feel partly horrified and partly dismal. "I… You could come with me next year, if you like."
You're not sure where the offer comes from but Yangyang lights up at the idea.
"I can? Oh, we'll have so much fun!"
"Slow down. There's a year to go."
Yangyang laughs. It's surprising the way he turned out. He must have gotten tired of waiting by the door. And now you know all the things about him that his parents don’t.
You smile at him, warming up to the idea of you and him as friends before scoffing at it again.
Right in the next moment, Yangyang dips suddenly to the ground, crouching below the table. You look around in surprise and fall to your knees with a yelp at the tug on our wrist from Yangyang.
“What the hell?” you hiss. “You’re starting to act really weird.”
“I- Sorry. It’s an emergency,” he says, but there’s no sign of distress in his voice. He simply smiles at you. Perhaps he’s never heard of the emotion as of yet.
“Your babysitter?”
“I say that once and on accident—yes, it’s my babysitter.”
You chuckle. He’s simply too cute at times. 
“We have to be discreet now, okay? It’s like—what’s the movie called? Oh, Mission Impossible.”
“I’ve never seen that.”
“What? How can you not? It’s a classic! It’s got so many cool—ah, I’ll show you another time.”
You hum, staring at Yangyang’s facial features tense up and relax again as he scans the vicinity outside the window of the convenience store. It’s full of people, even at this hour so you can’t possibly know who’s looking at you from there.
Yangyang turns back to you. “Have you ever been to blue moon station?”
“The one with the pretty walls? No. No, I’ve never even gone beyond Strip Two.”
Yangyang smiles at you and right then, you feel like you’re about to resent whatever’s going to happen next. It’s in the ebb and flow of tonight’s itinerary, however, and you relax your shoulders just as he does a roll across the floor, looking back at you with a grin for executing it flawlessly. 
“You’re so silly,” you mutter. 
“I heard that,” he whisper-shouts back.
You’re not as afraid as before, you realize. The lights are absolutely mesmerizing.
vi. blue moon station
It drops a few degrees in temperature once you step foot onto the platform. You can see a bunch of scattered tourists, cameras hanging around their neck and a look of awe over their faces. 
Yangyang takes off his jacket, shivering immediately but offering it to you nonetheless. When you refuse, he places it gingerly over your shoulders.
"Is that a…?"
"A tourist bot, yes."
"Oh my god, it's so cute," you say, crouching by the little red robot, a teal-colored smiley face popping up on its monitor.
"A lot of tourists in this station," you note.
"Yeah. It's very… visually pleasing."
That's true. The walls are screens with three dimensional graphics, immersive enough to catch one's eye. A single tree grows through the middle of the station, evergreen and alive with holographic flora and fauna. The sun shines eternally over the tree. It's so beautiful that you had trouble taking your eyes off it at first.
The walls next to you are currently displaying a walk through a fantasy forest, crafted by a visionary artist, no doubt. A blue butterfly flies past you and you stare at it before zoning out.
Sometimes, the lights are too disorienting. You start to feel dizzy, massaging your forehead when Yangyang brushes the tips of his fingers against your shoulder.
“You good?”
Yangyang crouches beside you with watchful eyes.
You nod, turning your attention to the tourist bot. It displays a plethora of information about the architecture of this place which you're sure no tourist will bother to read beyond the first two lines. 
“You can make it do cool tricks too,” Yangyang says. “Watch.”
Yangyang pokes at it with his index finger, drawing a pattern over the screen. The bot proceeds to do an old internet dance, waving about its arms and hips. You laugh at it and Yangyang looks at you with the pride of a third grader with first place on their science project.
The colours on the walls change and you see the animation of a man and a fox, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to recall that image. They seem to be broadcasting fables through the holograms. You can’t deny that they’re pretty—glowing with auspicious colours and as animated as the real world itself. As if by compulsion, you hold Yangyang’s hand. It’s nice to feel the human touch real once in a while, especially in the overwhelming loneliness of city nights.
Yangyang looks at you brightly and right then, you feel less inclined to leave him.
“You know, I could teach you better ways to flirt than just grab my hand,” he says, grinning like an idiot.
“What?” 
You move your hand. “I’m not flirting.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he responds quickly. “Can I please have your hand back?”
You shake your head, laughing. He worries you. Some part of you says you shouldn’t be worried. It’s not like you’re close friends. (Friends, maybe. Close, not yet.)
The night has a different opinion.
“Found you,” a voice declares, and the two of you jump into each other with a scream.
The man in the suit looks at you with a fatigued look in his eyes, hair somehow still neat though he breathes like his lungs are on fire. 
“Care to tell me why you’ve been skipping my calls?” he asks after catching his breath. “It’s not like I wanted to follow you—you just needed to tell me.”
“I… I was busy?” Yangyang flashes a smile. “Kun-ge, I honestly had no idea you called. I don’t even have my phone.”
The man shakes his head. “Fine. Just head over to Jasmine for the night. And you can bring your date too.”
He gestures at you and you want to deny it as quick as you can. You do not, however. It’s almost like you’ve warmed up to the idea of it rather well.
“Okay,” Yangyang answers quietly. 
vii. jasmine private lounge
You enter a lounge with the capacity of around a hundred people. Despite that, there are hardly five present. The walls are black with neon jasmines pulsating from blue to red. A grand piano lies still in all its elegance in the middle of the lounge, played by a plain white AI. It feels like an expensive place to be, and more so, it feels like someplace you’re not supposed to step foot into. There's a bar table at one side, opposite to the entrance which glows a hypnotizing purple. A flat lettering on the wall declares the time to be 3 A.M.
You and Yangyang sit a little too close on the artificially warmed couch, waiting for Kun to return. Yangyang reassures you that you haven't done anything wrong but the illicit outing of yours certainly says otherwise. You contemplate tasting the cocktail Yangyang ordered before finally giving in and find it pleasantly warm to taste. You take another sip.
“It’s a little strong,” Yangyang warns. “Don’t have all of—you had all of it.”
You shrug. Your throat certainly feels better now. This lounge is fucking cold.
"You know, Yangyang," you say with the warmth of confidence on your face. "You're a really nice guy."
He smiles incredulously. "Thanks. You're really nice too."
"And you're pretty decent-looking—"
"I know that."
"—and also popular. So why are you always hanging around me?"
"Uh, that's your question?"
You nod. Placing your cheek against your palm, you try not to sink into the couch.
"Because you're really cool!" He answers before clearing his throat. "I mean. I think you're fun to be around. You make me see things clearer."
"And what exactly are you wanting to see clearer?'
"You."
You blink aside your astoundment, straightening. "What?"
Your question is left unanswered because a man enters and sits across the two of you, a loud huff of annoyance leaving his mouth. It's not just his disposition but the architecture of his face that grabs your attention. He looks like an AI robot so perfectly crafted with coloured lips and flawless skin that you end up staring till Yangyang elbows you.
“He’s not an AI,” Yangyang whispers.
You furrow your brows and notice it is, in fact, true that he's not an AI. There are no ridges over the joints or hollowness in the eyes. He wears the same frost-patterned smart lenses as Yangyang does. However, it doesn't change the fact that the man is beautiful to look at.
“I’m never hosting a new year party again,” he mutters, sinking into the couch.
“It actually sounds kind of fun,” Yangyang interjects. “I can’t wait for my turn.”
“I’m sorry. Good luck standing at Longhua temple for three hours till midnight just to make sure nothing goes wrong. Without dinner.”
Yangyang makes a face at that.
"That's Sicheng-ge," he says, turning to you. 
"Ah," you say in response, remembering the name vaguely. 
"He let us into Club 2," Yangyang says, noticing your lost expression.
"I think Kun's looking for you," Sicheng says, eyes trained at the back. 
His hands fidget with the dim blue buttons at the edge of the table, till a small compartment reveals itself under the glass. An old world-style cigarette is slowly pushed up and Sicheng picks it up. He offers the next one to Yangyang, who accepts it hesitantly. No one smokes tobacco anymore when nicotine is so readily available. Alas, human nature is to want things deadly and out of reach.
“So how’s Cat?” Yangyang asks, fumbling with the plasma lighter he picked from a compartment on the side.
Sicheng smiles a little, the smoke from his cigarette snaking around him as he raises a hand to dissipate it.
“She’s doing fine. Running everything as usual.”
“Of course. Boss lady.” Yangyang does an awkward salute.
“Oh, a new hair color too. As pretty as flower fields in the spring of ‘22.”
Sicheng’s lovesick rambling is interrupted by Yangyang hacking his lungs out. You turn to him and he avoids your gaze, reaching for a crystal blue  glass of water one of the helper bots offer. So, he’s not even a smoker? Why did he think you would care? 
“Anyway, Kun is glaring daggers at me now. You better get out of here.” Sicheng grimaces.
You turn around to see Kun by the bar table, gesturing towards Yangyang to come. You're not sure why but either of those men make you nervous. 
"I'll be right back," Yangyang says, scrambling up and leaving you in a long awkward silence with Sicheng.
“So, uh, I’m assuming you’re oblivious to that lovestruck puppy following you around?” Sicheng asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or is this some game you guys are into? I’m not judging you for that.”
Your face heats up and you fidget with your collar. “The- A what? Game? Uh? I- huh?”
Sicheng tries to press down his smile but it’s evident enough for you to see. Did you say something funny? Did Yangyang say something funny about you? Oh, you’re going to kill him.
“For all that he talks, he’s kind of terrible at pulling together his own love life.” 
“I- I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
It still unnerves you to look at him. He certainly looks more android than human when he’s not making any particular expression.
“Don’t mind me,” he says, offering you a reassuring smile. “You should find Yangyang before he lands the two of you in trouble.”
You turn to look at Yangyang through the glass and turn back nodding. Sicheng offers you a parting smile and you hesitantly make your way to the bar table.
"This isn't in my job description," Kun tells Yangyang just before you arrive. "I didn't know being a lawyer included babysitting."
The tips of Yangyang's ears heat up when he notices you.
"It's not babysitting," he murmurs. “Also, you’re not my mom.”
"You, Ten, Kunhang, all of you give me such a hard time," he continues but pauses right when he notices you. 
"Oh, hello. (Name), isn't it?" He says, smiling politely. He's quite young and handsome for a lawyer. "Yangyang talks about you a lot."
"Oh," you respond. "Really?"
Yangyang glares at the older man. "You don't have to say everything, Kun-ge."
"You interested in law?" Kun asks, offering you a seat between him and Yangyang.
You make a face. The law is a tool for the rich and powerful. But then again, what isn’t? The world is in your hands when you have billions to spare. However, you still can’t imagine being a rich man's guard dog your whole life.
Kun chuckles. "You kids are interested in tech more, aren't you?"
Yangyang interrupts, "You talk like you're fifty years old."
Kun grimaces, resting his face against his hand. Shooting a glare at Yangyang, he finishes the rest of his wine.
You're not exactly interested in tech or engineering or the big kid jobs either. You just want a way to survive this man-made food chain. Rich eats the world till there’s nothing left on the plate. Then again, you'd rather be a pet than get eaten.
"Anyway," Kun turns to Yangyang. "If you see Ten, give me a call."
Yangyang signals with a thumbs up gesture, watching as Kun’s figure slowly makes its way out of the gate. It’s the two of you again and suddenly, you feel a strange sort of feeling overcome you. Leaning your throbbing forehead against Yangyang’s shoulder, you take some soft breaths and skip the part where you question your actions. It’s pleasant, at the very least. He shifts his chair closer, extending his arm around you so that your head rests against his shoulder more comfortably.
“You must be tired,” he mutters.
“You didn’t answer me,” you say. “Answer in a way I understood, at least.”
“Hm?”
“Why do you hang around me?”
“Do you not… want me to?”
“No. I like your company, actually. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
Yangyang laughs. “You’re… you’re really perfect. As a person. At least to me, you seem that way.”
You scoff. “You’re a long way off there.”
“No. No, you felt like clockwork,” he continues. “When I first met you. I couldn’t believe you were real.”
You do work like a delirious robot on clockwork steroids. But you’re not very proud of it. You don’t think overworking is a good personality trait to have—even if it’s for survival. However, the faraway look in Yangyang’s eyes suggests that’s not what he means.
“I felt like I understood you,” he continues after a short pause.
You find it unbelievable. That’s the one sentence you could never imagine coming from him to you, much less agree with. But right then, as his warmth seeps into you, you want to agree desperately.
Yangyang feels an unexpected trickle of doubt down his throat. No matter how many times he’s practised in front of the mirror, the words don’t come out right when you’re with him. With everything you do, he feels more drawn in. There’s something familiar and something honest. And if he’s honest himself, he just likes you. What sort of a hypocrite should he be categorized as, to tell his friends to ‘just confess’ to their crushes when he’s a complete idiot when it comes to you? It can’t be that little voice from his childhood that tells him to stay in order.
Yangyang understands that there are rules to this world but he doesn’t get what those have got to do with him. He sighs, the sound somewhat grim when it comes from him.
"I've seen it before," he says, "People come from all over the country with hopes and dreams, and they get their hearts broken by capitalism."
You frown.
"I don't want you to go anywhere," he mumbles. "I hope you'll stay… even if- even if you feel like that, you know? If you're feeling lonely, I could—"
"Yangyang." You smile. "I’m quite comfortable here."
When you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, Yangyang thinks this is it. This is how he ends the sorry excuse of flirting he’s been trying with you and says something he regrets. It was never this difficult with the other crushes he’s had. He’s always left opening his mouth and then promptly closing it like a goldfish out of water every single time he wants to bring up dating with you. He’s always honest. So, what’s the big deal this time? This is so horrendously not cool of him.
You straighten. “We should get back home.”
“Can you- Can you not move so far from me, please?” Yangyang murmurs, hands gripping yours.
You smile, to yourself more to him but that’s one he likes the most.
“You’re a really interesting person, Yangyang.”
“I am?” He clears his throat and repeats the question. 
“How are you so nice to people?”
“I think people are nice.”
“Why do you like parties?”
“They’re fun.”
“When the party’s over, who do you go to?” you ask, words mushing into each other.
“Home,” he answers, gulping down what seems like more words. “Like always.”
A hush falls between the two of you. You’re asking quite the questions.
“I’m sweaty,” you mutter. “I hate being sweaty.”
“You look wonderful though,” Yangyang mumbles, more to himself than to you. “Not that being sweaty makes you wonderful. You’re just nice.”
There’s another hush, the notes of the piano playing a faraway, romantic tune. He turns away and looks back at you again, but right in that moment, you lean forward to press your lips against his. It’s so sudden that he almost falls over backwards, his feet planted firmly on the ground the only thing preventing that from happening. The next thing he thinks is that your lips are on fire and it’s the most comfortable feeling he’s ever experienced. 
The two of you fit into each other like clockwork, Yangyang thinks. It’s the one thing in his life that feels whole. Not that he isn’t whole by himself—he just loves your warmth. For a moment he feels like he’s on cloud nine and the next, his heart plummets when he feels you go limp in his arms. 
It breaks his heart a little but he doesn’t—can’t bring himself to say much. He’s not this bad when he’s drunk, is he? Pulling you up by the waist, he texts Kunhang to bring his car down to the lounge.
This is going to be a long night.
viii. home 
You wake up to the sun in your eyes and immediately know you're someplace you shouldn't be. This isn't your bed. The sun doesn't reach your bed in the morning. This isn’t the dormitory. You see a cubical alarm clock, a pixelated smiley face on it as it displays 10 A.M.
You get up and immediately shriek. You’re not wearing any clothes. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you look around the room. It’s huge; the walls are multicolored with a little section opposite the bed reserved for photographs. There’s a lot of junk all over the floor that you don’t pay mind to when you notice Yangyang.
“Yangyang?!”
He rouses blinking slowly, hair going every which way and his eyes still unfocused. He looks like he’s had a difficult night.
“Why are you on the floor?” you ask, shrinking further into the ridiculously soft bed when he gets up. Massaging the back of his neck, he looks like he's looking at a mirage instead of a real live person. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a shirt and you look away after a prolonged minute of staring. This is getting ridiculous. What are you doing here?
“Yangyang!”
“Huh? Oh!”
He seems to be finally awake. You should pop the question before it eats you alive.
"Did- Did we…?"
Yangyang blinks at you in confusion before a loud "oh" erupts from his mouth.
"No!" He says in between laughter. "No, we didn't. Oh my god, you’re so funny. You took off your clothes saying it's too hot and smacked me with them. I didn’t look, by the way.”
Your jaw drops. You can’t even form words through the pulsing headache.
“Your clothes are on the chair. And I didn’t touch your underwear. Out of respect."
You avoid eye contact in embarrassment. 
“And… well, you did kiss me once. Twice.”
You look up alarmed and he raises his arms in defense. 
“You- you were drunk so I had to push you off. You cried a little after that. Sorry.”
“Oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, sitting down on the bed. That has to be the most embarrassing thing you could have done.
“You- Don’t worry about that. You’re a good kisser. I was kind of surprised,” he offers in an attempt to make you feel better but you only grow hotter in the face.
“And- And I liked it,” he adds in a panic. “Wait, I don’t mean it in a creepy way.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t anyone else.”
“What?”
“You. It’s okay if it’s you.”
You give him a weak smile, still not over the embarrassment.
Yangyang laughs. “I… I think I should’ve said this before but… can I take you out on a date?”
“What were we doing last night then?”
“Well, that was- ah. You’re teasing me. Motherfucker.”
You giggle into your palm. When he takes a seat on the bed, you make a distressed sound and he jumps up immediately.
“My clothes,” you hiss. “Get out of the room so I can wear them.”
“Right,” he says, pointing an index finger at you.
He turns around right then. "By the way…"
You shriek, pulling the cover up all the way to your nose.
"Sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately. "If- if that was a date, did you like it? Do you wanna go on another one?"
You can see him practically sweat bullets and you laugh at the innocuous questions. He’s too cute. You can’t believe you made yourself shake off the thought every time it crossed you. However indelicate his touch is, you welcome it nonetheless.
"Yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you. You annoying, stupid, bratty idiot." 
“Okay, that was mean.”
Watching his figure leave through the door, you relax your shoulders. In the end, people will always be people. No matter what shiny new toy you give them to play with, people will always search for happiness, and they will laugh and cry and fall in love with people and places and things over and over again. It's lovely to be human in an era of diamond and steel.
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taetr4ck · 8 days
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boyfriend texts with wayv?
RANDOM BF WAYV TEXTS !
bf!wayv x reader, bit suggestive on winwin's part — fluff, comfort, crack. taglist form.
a/n : i love making these so much i'm sobbing
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taglist : @soul-is-a-strange-kid @haechansbbg @bluethemoments @bath1lda @k-labels
⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open
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writemekpop · 8 months
Text
Live A Little | Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (Ten)
Summary: You knew that a holiday with your best friend Ten would be wild… you just didn’t expect to fall in love with him.
Genre: Friends to lovers AU
Word count: 1k @tyongie
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“Ten, what are you doing? You’ll get soaked!”
You watched in horror as your best friend Ten ran out from under the bridge, right into the thunderstorm.
Ten stood in the middle of the empty road, arms flung out, face tilted up to the sky.
Thick, warm drops of monsoon rain soaked him in an instant. The rain slid down his body, darkening his clothes and making his T shirt cling to his slim, muscled frame.
Ten turned to look at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.
He cocked two fingers at you.
“Come here,” he said, smirking. 
“No way! I don’t want to catch a cold!”
Ten just smiled, and turned his head to the sky once more. His handsome face was smooth, blissful. The rain soaked his plump lips.
Your eyes traced the droplets that curved down his Adam’s apple and pooled in his collar bones. The sight of him sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Ten had never looked less like your loveable best friend. He looked like a beautiful stranger.   
Not one drop of rain had touched crisp white shirt and business skirt. You could feel your bra digging into your skin, and your tight bun made your head throb.
You wanted to be carefree like Ten. You wanted him to lick your wounds and kiss your worries away. A strange feeling was swelling inside you. You realised that Ten was the answer to every question that had filled your head since you got here.
The realisation that you were in love with your best friend hit you like a truck.
You pulled out your bun, letting your hair fall past your shoulders.
Then, you took a deep breath and stepped out from under the bridge.
The rain drenched your body. It was warm, soothing your tightly wound muscles, coaxing a moan from your lips. 
Ten’s head turned towards the sound.
He walked towards you. His sly smirk transformed into a full-on grin by the time he reached you.
“Look who finally let her hair down,” Ten teased, twirling a soaked curl of your hair between his fingers.
You grasped Ten’s hand and pressed it against your chest, hoping he could feel your thundering heartbeat under his palm.
Ten’s brows quirked up.
Your words died on your lips. What did you want?
“I want – I want to be free like you,” you said, gulping. “I want… to be passionate like you. I want…”
Ten hummed, pretending to think.
Ten watched you with cold interest. “Is that all?”
“I want you,” you finally said.  
“You just have to do one thing,” he said, trying not to smile.
“Anything,” you gasped.
“Close your eyes.”
You let your eyelids fall shut. Your whole body felt alive, every cell was pulsing.  
At first, nothing happened. All you could feel was the rain splashing against your face. You stayed still, hoping, praying…
Then, suddenly, you felt warm, plump lips pressing against yours.
You gasped. You had never kissed your friend before. You didn’t even think you were his type. But the more you kissed, the more right it felt. It was like something had been missing in your relationship all these years, and this was it. Ten’s body against yours – that was what you had been craving.  
You moaned against Ten’s lips, reaching your hands to tug through his soft, dyed hair.
Ten’s head tilted back, and a slow, sexy grin spread over his lips.
“Took you long enough,” Ten said, dark eyes raking down your body.
You let out a laugh. You pulled Ten towards you, feeling his arms curl around your waist.
“Shut up and kiss me again.” 
MAIN MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
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xdjville · 12 days
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hendery bf texts - part two
pairing: hendery x gn!reader
cw: shit talk (literally)
author's note: i just hit 100 followers what 😭😭 thank u guys sm, i might actually go sob in the corner now
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©xdjville
taglist ➼♡ @bambisnc
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jammingjaem · 2 months
Note
Hi 👀
Can i ask for some boyfriend Yangyang texts, pls?
ᨳ bf!yangyang
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jwirecs · 7 months
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RECOMMENDED NCT FICS OF AUGUST 2023💖
hello, hello! here are my nct recs of august! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝
** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **
🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite
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Drunk In You || @hyuckiefluff💕✅
↳ was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol.
Flustered || @daydreamingyuta💕✅💯
↳ Prompt: 17 “Please help me pick out an outfit.”
Listen To Me || @daydreamingyuta💕✅
↳ Prompts: #1 “I couldn’t be more in love with you.” and #11 “It’s two in the morning, why are you here?”
Live A Little || @writemekpop💕✅
↳ You knew that a holiday with your best friend Ten would be wild… you just didn’t expect to fall in love with him.
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It's Raining, It's Pouring || @elix8r🔞💔✅💯
↳ Hating Mark could almost be considered your part-time job ever since Taeyong adopted him. But on one fateful night, a raging storm strikes, and with Taeyong nowhere to be found, you find yourself seeking an unlikely source of comfort - your annoying cheetah roommate.
Sorry, Who Is Mark Lee? || @dropsofletters💕💔✅
↳ she swore up and down on the night of her graduation as a doctor that she would never work with dr. mark lee. not under any setting. after all, she’s not here for people who get everything served on a silver platter just for being…nice? however, years after their graduation, mark comes back into her life not brushing his hair and talking about a new project that they are supposedly going to be working on for the next three weeks, and all hopes of not working with him die down when she realizes…maybe, she had not truly known who he was. sorry, but who the hell is mark lee?
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Anon Request || @yeow6n💕✅💯💯
↳ Anon Req: have you seen the tiktok of a girl who made her boyfriend a little sprout to put on his gaming headset ??? its so cute and reminded me of hyuck 🤏🏻
Concert Tickets || @onyourhyuck💕✅💯
↳ Your boyfriend Donghyuck is a massive Bruno Mar’s fan, so you bought two concert tickets.
I'd Give Up Forever To Touch You || @martiniblues💕✅
↳ while mark is away on tour, you find yourself looking back at old memories of you two. you have grown used to spending these moments alone while mark is gone, but little do you know he is doing the same thing miles and miles away.
Love On Me || @neocitybooty🔞✅
↳ You have to choose between fulfilling the needs of your lovable boyfriend or finishing your work for the day. 
Stolen Kisses || @writemekpop🔞💕✅
↳ Sneaking off to have sex is tough with a kid in the house.
Surprise Visit || @mingyuonthemoon🔞💕✅
↳ mark pays you a surprise visit after not seeing each other for awhile
Taking Care Of My Baby || @onyourhyuck💕✅
↳ Your boyfriend Jaemin takes care of you while you’re bed ridden with a fever flu.
Two Makes A Team || @sxcret-garden🔞💕✅
↳ When both your boyfriends distract you by asking you for kisses, one thing leads to another and what you had planned to be some alone time with a good book turns into something even better…
Where Were You || @onyourhyuck🔞💕💔✅
↳ Your sweet loving boyfriend is always by your side during your bad days. What if one day, he can't be there for one of your worst?
Your Red Lipstick || @ihaechans💕✅
↳ Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.
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Worth A Lie || @ruwriteshour💕💔✅💯💯💯
↳ Always wallowing yourself in self-pity, you start to doubt yourself and you think it's time to end your relationship with Mark with a lie. He'll have no choice but to move on from you. It will work... right?
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His Karma || @onyourhyuck🔞💕💔🔄
↳ (no summary, but really do give this one a read!)
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Adult Time || @nctsplug02🔞💕✅
↳ Anon Req: hihi i'm not sure if requests are open but can you write more of milf reader with jaemin + sungchan as the kids? ♡
Bruises and Ballet Shoes || @luvyeni🔞💕✅💯
↳ jeno gets into a fight and almost misses your preformance
Close The Door Behind You || @jadeobvi🔞✅
↳ Jeno is your strict older brother who has banded Jaemin from dating you, let alone looking at you. But one night you both can’t take it anymore. All the tension has finally exploded, but you have to be careful. God forbid Jeno hears.
Fever Pitch || @nctsworld🔞💕✅💯💯💯
↳ your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.
Forget Me Too || @yutaholic🔞💕💔✅💯💯
↳ Back home after years away, you just want to fulfill your obligations as your best friend’s maid of honor and split. You don’t want to see Johnny, though you are guaranteed to run into him at some point. You broke his heart not too long ago and the last thing he ever said to you was that he hated you. And you don’t blame him.
New Religion || @suhnnyupsidedown🔞✅💯💯
↳ something along the lines of Taeyong being a married professor and him ending up sleeping with one of his students? who also happens to be sleeping with Johnny?
Racer || @smileysuh🔞💕✅💯
↳ You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car. Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”
Sin & Obsession || @onyourhyuck🔞✅💯 (pt 2)
↳ You’re a faithful good girl. You attend church and you stay out of trouble. Mark is a guy that attends your church and what you don’t know is that he’s been obsessed with you for a while…
Two For One || @goldyeokki🔞💕✅
↳ you come home after a long day to your two boyfriends in skimpy maid outfits. while they fussed over you, you had completely forgotten that it was your birthday. good thing that they had something special prepared for you on your day.
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Volleyball For Dummies (In Love Edition) || @jaeminvore💕✅
↳ Mark Lee has been called many things. Dedicated was one of them and that dedication lead him into joining NeoTech College's well coveted Women's Volleyball team, the NeoTech Tigers, as their manager in hopes of winning the infamous setter, Y/N's heart. But there was one problem, being academically inclined did not come with the extensive knowledge of anything related to the sport and to put it simply, Mark Lee doesn't know shit about Volleyball.
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Boyfriend Material || @mochidoie💕💔✅
↳ Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.
Getting Even || @ofjunemoment🔞💕💔🔄
↳ Haechan is notorious for his pranks. Who can forget about the one time the campus fountain was bleeding red? You were weary of never getting on his wrong side, but when you get to know him better, it seems like behind all that front he's a sweet and caring guy. That is until you get a bucket of water dunked on you straight after he promised he wouldn't pull something on you. You're not only pissed that he had fooled you like this, but that he chose such a simple prank.
Just Friends || @lonelyharmonies💕✅
↳ what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?
What The Puck || @choerrypuffs💕💔✅
↳ you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue. 
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Mark Texts || @justalildumbpling💕✅
↳ (just some cute ol mark texts)
NCT 127 Texts || @12926💕✅💯
↳ sending a nude & saying "it wasn't for u"
NCT Dream Texts || @ohmygs-blog💕✅💯
↳ “last night was amazing. oops wrong person”
NCT Dream Texts || @ohmygs-blog💕✅
↳ “sorry can’t hangout w you this month, haven’t gotten paid yet!!!”
NCT Dream Texts || @hugs2doie💕✅
↳ nct dream when you hit them up with a “we need to talk”
NCT Dream Texts || @hugs2doie💕✅
↳ “i was talking to my other boyfriend” prank on the dreamies
Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!
** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **
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starlightkun · 3 months
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❧ word count: 3.4k ❧ warnings: cursing, drinking (reader gets a bit tips), vomiting ❧ genre: fluff, angst?, friends to lovers, fake dating at the office holiday party trope, reader is stupid (beloved) ❧ extra info: title taken from merry-go-round (christmas edition) by astro my loves ❧ author’s note: idk what it is about kun and christmas and cheesy hallmark movie premises that gets me going but i hope yall r liking all these lmao
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“I’ll do it.” Kun immediately offered.
“Huh?”
“I’ll be your fake boyfriend for the night.”
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“I lead a cursed existence,” you declared as soon as Kun picked up, slamming your front door closed behind you.
“Uh, why? What happened now?” Your friend’s voice was concerned.
“Jangwook wants to meet my boyfriend at the office Holiday Party this Friday.” You threw your house keys onto your kitchen table and stalked into your bedroom.
Kun knew exactly who you were talking about, your coworker who had been not-so-subtle in his advances towards you, crossing the line on more than one occasion. “I thought you reported him to HR.”
“Yeah, I did.” You kicked your shoes off and into your closet.
“And he still works there?!”
“Uh-huh,” you scoffed, putting him on speakerphone to start getting changed out of your work clothes. “That’s unfortunately usually how that goes.”
“God, Y/N, I’m sorry.” Kun’s voice was sincere. “You’re looking for another job, right?”
“I just started, do you know how bad it looks on a résumé to only work somewhere for less than six months?”
“I think quitting is pretty justified in these circumstances.”
“Well, I’m not. So now I have to find a fake boyfriend in the next two days or it’s going to get worse.”
“I’ll do it.” He immediately offered.
You stopped in your tracks as you were grabbing your pajamas from your dresser. “Huh?”
“I’ll be your fake boyfriend for the night,” Kun reiterated. “Come on, who else would you have asked? Yangyang?”
“Sicheng, maybe, if he wasn’t too busy.” You referenced another mutual friend of yours.
“He’s working.”
“Oh.”
“Come on, I’ll do it.”
“Alright, thanks, Kun,” you agreed. “I’ll owe you one.”
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Two days later, you stopped Kun outside the event venue where the Holiday Party was supposed to be happening. Everything had to be perfect tonight, you two had to be convincing. In order to distract yourself from that idea, you readjusted the neckline of Kun’s turtleneck for a moment and smoothed over the lapels of his suit jacket.
“Okay, there you go,” you smiled at him nervously, then fidgeted with the hem of your outfit. “Do I look okay?”
“You look beautiful,” he assured you, offering his hand out to you. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” you sighed, lacing your fingers with his, ignoring the sparking along your skin where it touched his.
Walking into the party, you immediately wanted to leave. The venue was abuzz with chatter from all your coworkers, and Christmas music blasted from speakers somewhere. You spotted the bar in the far corner, and pulled Kun over there.
“No fucking way am I doing this sober,” you muttered to him, earning a laugh.
“Go for it,” he rubbed your back as the two of you sidled up to the bar. “I’m driving.”
After ordering your drink and Kun’s soda, you turned around to the rest of the party, eyes searching for somebody pleasant you could talk to. You finally spotted one of your work friends and led Kun over to her table.
“Hey, Sookyung,” you greeted her brightly.
“Y/N!” She threw her arms around your neck. Already tipsy. “There you are!”
“Here I am!” You chuckled, hugging her back. “How are you?”
“Great! Great!” She beamed at you as you pulled away, inquisitive eyes finding Kun next to you. “And who’s this?”
“Sookyung, this is my boyfriend, Kun.” You hoped your voice didn’t squeak too much over the word boyfriend. “Kun, this is Sookyung, we work on the same floor.”
“Nice to meet you.” He went to offer his hand for a handshake, but she just squealed and hugged him anyway as well.
He looked over at you in confusion, and you mouthed ‘drunk hugger’ to him. He made an ‘ahh’ sound, gingerly patting her back before she let go of him.
“So I get to finally meet you!” She was beaming at him. “When Y/N would talk about you and talk about her boyfriend, I always thought you were two separate people! And I felt bad for her boyfriend because I sort of thought she had a crush on this Kun guy. But you’re the same person! That makes so much more sense.”
“You’re not driving home, right?” You asked her pointedly, feeling your skin grow hot with embarrassment and needing to divert from that information as soon as possible.
“Nope!” She giggled. “My girlfriend’s here somewhere. She doesn’t drink.”
“Good, good.”
“Speaking of, there she is!” Sookyung took off into the crowd.
“And there she goes,” you shook your head, watching her disappear between other bodies.
You fortunately didn’t have very long alone with Kun to address what she had just said, as another coworker appeared at your table. Unfortunately, it was the exact person you’d hoped to avoid for as long as possible.
“Y/N,” Jangwook set his drink down, already far too close for comfort.
You instinctually backed away from him, right into Kun. Before you could apologize, though, Kun wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer, letting his hand settle on your hip.
He offered his other hand out to your coworker. “Qian Kun, I don’t think we’ve met.”
Jangwook shook his hand, and you could see his face contort with pain for a brief flash before he took his hand back. “Lee Jangwook.”
“Jangwook, this is my boyfriend, Kun,” you made introductions awkwardly. “Kun, Jangwook and I are on the same team at work.”
Your coworker seemed to be sizing Kun up for a moment, appraising him and the hand he still had on you, and Kun met his gaze, unwavering. Before you could attempt to continue the tense small talk, a hand grabbed your elbow, and Sookyung was suddenly at your side again.
“Y/N! The girls are doing shots, come on!”
“Sook, I don’t want to—” You were cut off by her insistently tugging you out of Kun’s grasp.
“I’ll be fine here,” Kun reassured you with a dazzling smile, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead before fully letting you go. “Go have fun.”
“O-Okay,” you replied, your voice higher as you were a bit stunned.
Needing no further prompting, Sookyung yanked you off towards the bar. You let her talk you into doing one shot with her and some other female coworkers of yours. It was your usual after-work drinks crew minus a couple men.
You set the shot glass back down with a heavy thunk on the bartop. “Alright, that’s it for me.”
A chorus of disappointed groans came at that, but you stayed firm on your decision as they all got another round, and you watched them, sipping on your cocktail you’d gotten earlier.
“You and your boyfriend are so cute, Y/N,” another one of your coworkers gushed, squeezing your forearm. “I saw you two walk in and I was just like ‘ugh, I need to find somebody who looks at me like that!’ Where did you get him?”
“Oh, we met in college,” you explained vaguely. “Friend of a friend.”
“Then why have you never brought him before?”
She was talking about the other monthly events that your workplace puts on for the employees and their significant others to socialize. You’d gone stag to the other five.
“He’s busy. He travels for work.”
“What does he do?”
“Structural engineer. So he has to be on-site for a lot of builds and stuff. He just got a promotion last month, though, so he doesn’t have to travel as much anymore.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“So when—” Sookyung was cut off by a hiccup. “When is he going to, you know? Pop the question? If you’ve been together since college?”
You felt your skin get hot again, and looked around the room as you tried to come up with an answer. “We haven’t really talked about that. We’re fine where we are, you know?”
“Of course, of course.”
After a little while longer, you excused yourself from the women to find Kun again. He had disappeared from the table you’d been at before, and you peered around the room curiously.
“Looking for someone?” A familiar voice came from beside your ear as an arm wrapped around your shoulders.
“Oh, Kun,” you breathed a sigh of relief, turning around to see his familiar smile. “There you are.”
He rubbed a hand up and down your exposed arm. “You’ve got goosebumps. Are you cold?”
“It’s a bit chilly in here,” you agreed casually, not even noticing due to the alcohol buzzing through your veins and warming you from the inside.
He slipped his suit jacket off, draping it over your shoulders before pulling you close to him again. “Better?”
“Much, thank you.” You pulled it tighter around you. “Are you having a good time?”
“I am now that I’m with you again,” he leaned in to whisper. “That guy was a real asshole.”
“Wow, shocker.” You rolled your eyes.
Kun snickered. “Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah, it’s alright.”
“Just alright?”
You shrugged, leaning back against him. “Guess it’s better now that I’m with you.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Now let’s get you some food.”
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Sat down at a table with Kun and a big plate of food, you happily munched away as he kept a casual hand on your thigh, and you tried not to think about his casual hand on your thigh. You were on your second drink already, taking a big gulp every time your eyes happened to stray to Kun’s hand so very casually just on your goddamn thigh.
“So what did you guys talk about?” You finally asked him. “You and the asshole?”
“Oh, you know, what I do for work, education, where we met, how long we’ve been together, that kind of stuff,” Kun shrugged.
You felt your eyes widen immediately. “Do you think he knows?”
“No, baby,” he chuckled, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “He doesn’t know shit.”
“How can you be sure?”
“He felt the need to warn me about the late nights you two do at he office sometimes. He was testing me, like he was going to pull a gotcha on me.”
“We only have to stay that late because he sucks at his job, and as the new person, I’m first on the chopping block for staying late!” You ranted. “And I swear, he does it on purpose just to try to get me alone!”
“Yeah, he tried to make it sound very… scandalous,” Kun shook his head, lip curling with disgust. “I was just really casual and said you make sure to tell me when you stay late so I don’t get worried about you coming home safe. Oh yeah, we live together and we’ve been together since college. That work?”
“Y-Yeah, that’s fine.”
“And I made him promise not to tell you, but—” He had a mischievous grin on his face as he added lowly, “I’m thinking about proposing.”
You almost spit out the bite of food in your mouth as both you and Kun burst into laughter, you slapping his arm with your breathless laughs. He squeezed your leg and rubbed your knee as he half-heartedly tried to shush you.
“Please tell me he looked fucking pissed,” you begged, grabbing his arm.
“He did,” Kun confirmed with a nod.
“Best Christmas present ever, Kun. Thank you.” You wiped at a tear in the corner of your eye, grabbing your drink and finishing it off in one go. “Ahh, I think I want another one, actually.”
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“How are you so good at this?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
Kun had loaded a rather tipsy-you back into his car later in the night, and was now taking you back to your apartment.
“What? Driving?” He chuckled. “Been doing it a few years. They gave me a license and everything.”
“No, being my fake boyfriend.” You asked the one thing that had been nagging at the back of your mind the whole time. “You don’t feel weird or anything? Because we’re friends?”
He side-eyed you. “You’re too drunk for this conversation.”
“I’m not drunk!”
“You’re not sober enough for this conversation,” he corrected himself.
“Is it because you like me?”
“Y/N, let’s just focus on getting you home, okay?”
“Because Minji said you looked at me like… you know…”
“And Sookyung said she thought you had a crush on ‘that Kun guy,’” he retorted. “Like I said, let’s save this conversation for when you’re stone cold sober, Y/N.”
“So you don’t like me…” You mumbled dejectedly.
“That’s not what I said.”
You looked out the window, feeling the heavy pout on your face. “But you want me to be sober when you let me down easy so I don’t cry or something.”
“Y/N...” He sighed, looking over at you as he pulled to a stop in front of your apartment. “Oh, jeez, are you crying right now?”
“No…” You sniffed, wiping at a tear.
“Yes, you are, you liar,” Kun said gently.
“Okay, maybe I am.”
“Y/N, I’m not going to let you down easy.”
“You’re going to be mean when you reject me?!” You looked over at him with wide, horrified eyes.
“No, no, what? I’m not going to reject you,” he promised, offering his hand out to you. You cautiously put yours atop it, and he gently squeezed your hand between both of his. “Jeez, Y/N, I’m in love with you. And I wanted you to be sober and not crying when I told you that, but there goes that plan.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ll even let you in on a secret.” He shifted forward conspiratorially. “Sicheng didn’t have to work tonight, I just couldn’t stand the thought of anybody else being your fake boyfriend.”
You sloppily wiped at your wet cheeks with your free hand, whispering back, “Here’s my secret: I was only going to ask him because I knew you would’ve said yes and I thought you didn’t like me like that, and it would’ve sucked to be your fake girlfriend for one night when I wanted you to be my real boyfriend forever.”
“Forever?” He repeated with a giddy grin on his lips.
“Or something, I don’t know, I’m drunk, Kun, remember?” You pointed to yourself zealously.
“I thought you weren’t drunk? You were very insistent—”
“No, I’m sooo drunk, actually. And sleepy! You should cuddle me to sleep.”
“I’ll sit with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.
“But aren’t we for real dating now?” You tilted your head, pouting again.
“We’re going to have this conversation again when you’re sober, okay? Then we can decide if we’re for real anything.”
“You are mean.”
“The meanest, for sure,” he agreed placidly, giving your hand a final pat before reaching over to turn the car off.
Kun helped you up to your apartment, get everything ready for bed, and stepped out of the bedroom while you changed into your pajamas—you had just enough body coordination left to do that on your own. He made you drink some water and take a few pills before finally letting you crawl into bed. As promised, he sat up at the head of your bed next to you as you curled up under the covers.
“Kun?” You sniffled, looking up at him as he rested a gentle hand on your hair.
“Yes?” He looked down at you tenderly.
“Do you really like me?”
“More than.” He patted your head.
“For how long?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Months, years, who’s to say?”
“Oh. I’m sorry...”
“Why?”
“That I didn’t—” you let out a loud yawn, struggling to keep your eyes open. “That I didn’t see it sooner. I just thought you were a really nice guy.”
“I am. I’m a really nice guy who’s in love with you.”
“I don’t know if really nice people go around saying they’re really nice all the time...”
“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Y/N. I didn’t tell you.”
“I know, but—”
“You should go to sleep, Y/N.”
“But where are you going to sleep?”
“The couch. I’m staying with you until you fall asleep, though. Remember?”
“Okay...” You yawned again. “If you... If you get cold out there, you can come in here, you know?”
“Right. I’ll keep that in mind,” he agreed, humor in his voice.
“Because it gets really cold in my apartment at night, you know? Sometimes… Sometimes I’d imagine you were with me on really cold nights, cuddling me to sleep.”
“Really?” He questioned, intrigued now.
“Or… other stuff…”
He burst into laughter, stroking your forehead. “You definitely should go to sleep, Y/N, before you say stuff that you’ll have to kill me for knowing.”
“Mmm, okay.” You rolled over, finally letting your eyes flutter shut. “Goodnight, Kun.”
You were asleep before you could even hear his response.
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When you woke up for the first time, it was still dark out. Your head hurt, and you chugged the rest of the water on your nightstand before grabbing the cup and shuffling out to the kitchen to get more. As promised, Kun was asleep on your couch, features illuminated softly in the moonlight streaming through a gap in the curtains. You refilled your cup of water, chugged it again, refilled it again, and shuffled over to the living room.
Standing over Kun, you pushed on his shoulder gently. He stirred, opening one eye to look up at you in confusion.
“Y/N? Everything okay?” He murmured, his voice thick and foggy with sleep.
“I’m sober,” you deadpanned. “My bed’s cold.”
He blearily scooted over to make room on your tiny couch, pressing himself into the back cushions. You crammed yourself on mostly on top of him, burying your face in his neck as his arms encircled you. Neither of you said another word as you both drifted back off to sleep.
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“You’re in love with me?!” You repeated for probably the fourth time that morning, as Kun held your hair back and you clung to the bowl of your toilet.
“I don’t know how else to phrase this to make you believe me,” Kun sighed as you leaned forward to retch again. “You didn’t hallucinate last night in a drunken stupor, I really do have feelings for you, you also said you have feelings for me, I put you to bed alone and went to sleep on the couch by myself, then in the middle of the night you said you were sober and cold and joined me on the couch.”
You wiped your mouth with a wad of toilet paper he handed you, more memories of last night coming back to you. “Did… Did I say anything else?”
“Like…?”
“About it being cold?” You winced.
“Yeah, you warned me that your apartment gets cold.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“And that sometimes when it gets cold you imagine me—”
“Ah! Stop it!” You shoved him away from you as he burst into maniacal laughter. “You’re the worst! You’re mean and I hate you!”
“But what if I told you that I also imagined holding you on cold nights sometimes?” He scooted back over next to you, draping an arm over your shoulders. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear as he added, “Or… other stuff?”
The bile that rose to your throat was completely coincidental, but certainly not a good look as you apparently hurled at the idea. Kun continued dutifully holding your hair and rubbing your back as you puked.
After flushing for the umpteenth time that morning, you turned back to him incredulously. “Seriously?”
“Is there something about me that gives off the vibe that I’d lie about this?” He rebuffed.
“Well, no—” You stopped to spit into the toilet. “But I feel like there’s plenty about me that would be conducive to that hypothesis.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Kun, we’re having this conversation while I puke my brains out, for one.”
“And what about me would make you think I’m that judgmental?” He snorted. “You do remember the night I successfully defended my thesis, right? Because I don’t.”
“You weren’t that bad.”
“And you weren’t that bad last night either,” Kun brushed a piece of hair from your face, his gaze tender as he looked at you. “Nor are you that bad now either. And even if you were— I’d still love you.”
You felt your eyes water, and not from the burning in your esophagus this time. “Okay…”
“Okay?” He confirmed.
“Okay,” you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Thank god, I feel like I just defended my thesis again,” he joked, kissing the top of your head.
“You’re so mean to me…” You whined, burying your face in his shirt. “I don’t know why I ever thought you were a nice guy.”
“I’m plenty nice,” he retorted. “You’re just too hungover to notice.”
“So are we like… for real dating now?” You mumbled.
“Yeah, probably.”
You let out a choked laugh at that. “Good to know.”
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⤷ 2023 hallmark movie marathon | blog masterlist
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hugs2doie · 5 months
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masterlist 1, 2.
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go back to the main page ∞ read the rules for requesting
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𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌
⌗ nct dream + back scratches.
⌗ nct dream asking you to come home after an argument.
⌗ nct dream + spotting you in their concert.
⌗ flirty!classmate!nctdream texts
⌗ nct dream texts when they realised they took a joke too far.
⌗ nct dream texts when you straighten your curly hair.
⌗ “can you play an instrument for me?”
MARK
⌗ bf!mark texts with a girl whose personality is like haechan’s.
⌗ bf!mark texts with jaehyun’s (almost) sister.
⌗ random bf!mark texts
⌗ more bf!mark texts
⌗ bff!mark texts
⌗ bf!idol!mark x idol!reader texts
RENJUN
⌗ more bf!renjun texts
⌗ bf!renjun comforting his s/o when they’re stressed about school
JENO
⌗ random bf!jeno texts
HAECHAN
⌗ bff!haechan accidentally confessing
⌗ bf!haechan sending you memes
⌗ more bf!haechan texts
⌗ even more haechan bf!texts
JAEMIN
⌗ more bf!jaemin texts
⌗ bf!jaemin comforting his s/o
CHENLE
⌗ more bf!chenle texts
⌗ bf!chenle texts but mark & jisung are your brothers
⌗ even more bf!chenle texts
⌗ bff!chenle texts
JISUNG
⌗ more bf!jisung texts
⌗ even more bf!jisung texts
⌗ long distance bf!jisung texts
⌗ even moreeeee bf!jisung texts
⌗ say it, ditto. (drabble)
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𝐍𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟐𝟕
⌗ bf!nct127 texts when you’re one of the nct dream members’ eldest sibling.
TAEIL
JOHNNY
TAEYONG
⌗ bf!taeyong texts but jisung’s your younger brother.
YUTA
⌗ bff!yuta texts.
DOYOUNG
JUNGWOO
⌗ random bf!jungwoo texts
JAEHYUN
⌗ bf!jaehyun texts
⌗ more bf!jaehyun texts
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𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐕
⌗ wayv texts apologizing after they said something mean to you.
⌗ bff!wayv flirty texts
KUN
TEN
WINWIN
XIAOJUN
HENDERY
YANGYANG
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𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑
SOOBIN
YEONJUN
BEOMGYU
TAEHYUN
HUENINGKAI
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suhnshinehaos · 7 months
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we should get a cat | nct 96z roomies
synopsis : the one where you and your roomies welcome additions to the family pairing : nct96z [ tn, kn, dy ] x gn!reader genre/s : university + roommates au, fluff, one-shot smau
read more nct 96z roomies ! date gone wrong / hoodie thieves / exam week pickup / yikes!
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from reese, with love <3
they are so dear to me and i love them so,,, had to write another part for them !! tysm for reading, as always i’d love to know what you think! replies/asks/rbs are much appreciated <3 hope you’re all doing well and taking care :)
omg currently on the job hunt rn and it’s exhausting,, manifesting employed era soon!
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00127am · 30 days
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qian kun & gn! reader about summer heat, sharing a bed, non-sexual intimacy, roommates who are “just friends,” lowercase intended word count 2K words
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JULY 26 87 degrees 📀 小雨天气 by 苡慧, 嘿人李逵, 十七草
“it’s hot”
your words are just short of a half-hearted groan, slipping through the abrupt ruffle of the sheets as you (poorly attempt) to desperately kick off the comforter from the expanse of your legs. it only takes a second before you're arching your back in the fashion of a cat, stretching out your limbs in search of the only untouched portion of the mattress, toes straining and muscles tight. and when you do find it, relishing in the cold relief of the unexplored fabric, it's a feeling nothing if not short lived, stifled by the heat of your roommate's breath fanning against the side of your neck and the brush of his knuckles against the bare skin of your stomach.
"you’ve said that,”
his reply is spoken in a low, quiet inflection. one barely above a whisper, and yet with the lack of distance, one which deceivingly sounds much louder. kun's words are partnered with the motion of his legs as he attempts to shift to something akin to what you assume to be a more comfortable position--knees knocking against your own and hand retracting from your torso as if he was scalded. cheeks burnt a rosy red, rivaling the heat of summer as he pushes his hair back upon his head with an impassive undertaking.
“i’ll keep saying it,”
he huffs and despite the darkness of the room, you know he's shooting you an incredulous expression. “that won’t make it any less hot,”
“you know what would make it less hot,” you words are acute--directed at him with a acumated accuracy--as you angle your head upwards, slightly grazing his chin as you narrow your eyes at the shadowed frame of his silhouette.
it takes him a moment to find the words, to compose himself enough to muster an actual answer other than an audible gulp. an embarrassingly loud response doubling as a last ditch effort to relieve the sudden dryness in his mouth. “what?”
“if you got out of my bed,”
the noise that leaves kun's mouth can be likened more to a whine than anything else, the hand previously laying upon his forehead falling to rest upon his eyes. “it’s too hot in my room,”
you raise a brow, lips parted and tongue lifted against the sharpened point of canines. your words are drawled, consumed by a sarcasm otherwise suffocated by the casual tone of affection. “so your solution is to sleep in a twin sized bed with your roommate?”
kun's quick to jump to his own defense, parting his fingers and snapping his gaze towards your own. an undertaking which he ultimately, immediately regrets within the first fraction of a second, seeing far too much of those pretty eyes of yours for his voice to remain steady. it takes all his effort (and a calculated cough from the back of his throat) to beholden any shred of faux apathy--lips pursed before reluctantly curving into the beginnings of his softly enunciated consonants. “the couch is uncomfortable,”
a noise that can only ever be interpreted as disbelief is quick to leave your ajar mouth. “more uncomfortable than sleeping on top of me?”
he hesitates, swallowing quickly only to part his lips in the swift beginnings of a further explanation. one that begins only to end with the tensing of his jaw, before repeating the process three times over until your roommate is positively confident that any and all arguments are utterly incomprehensible and inconclusive. he intends to think up some witty remark, something to have you grinning and pushing back on his shoulder (he loves that habit of yours, though ten would argue that kun seems to love everything about you... ) but the only clever rebuttal he summons is:
“… yeah?”
you laugh and for the moment, for the split second in time which his ears ring from the airy, tired expression of your continued amusement at his own expense--he's holding nothing but a puffed up pride from his not-so-witty, very-much-not-so-clever response. (speaking of ears ringing, he might have tinnitus. is it possible to contract it from long term exposure to a roommate who sends him into something just short of cardiac arrest?)
"you don't sound very confident," your tone is a whisper away from mockery, flashing him that crooked and right leaning smile that hes found to be burned into his memory (so burned in fact that even the sher recollection of it makes him feel as if he has been set alight, pun intended). he only hums in return, a reply that spells out defeat in every way but overt words.
and for a few moments, with the lull in your usual back and forth, you're met with nothing but the steady inhale and exhale of your counterpart and the accompanying song of cicadas which thrums through the open windows. it's within this intermission that you find yourself growing ever warmer. though you can't be too sure if it was from the humid heat of july or the ever decreasing distance between you and your roommate--however, you find it safest to assume the former (despite all signs pointing to the latter).
the comfortable silence between the two of you is interrupted only by the shift of your frame, flipping over to face him with a sluggish roll of your shoulders. you're much closer than before, albeit there's more of you on the bed now then off of it, and you tense--body pressed gingerly against his own in a far from subtle affection that has kun about to drop dead on the spot. it's a touch which lingers, as if you're testing the waters, waiting for the inevitable, brash jerk of his stature that never seems to come. "i don't mind it,"
"me? or the heat?"
your answer follows instantly, like you were expecting the question. a reply made with no hesitation, almost as if there was no thought behind it at all. "the heat,"
"and me?" you've known kun long enough to be familiar with the slight tremble in the inflection of his voice, the way his tone darts upwards at the end of his sentences and the nervous swallow between each word. all things present here, all found within two measly syllables--spoken with such an unbridled anticipation that you nearly kiss him tell him then and there (perhaps you're getting overheated, a twin bed is much, much too small).
"honest answer? or a funny one?"
kun pauses, tongue caught between puffy lips as he considers his options. his eyes roll over the details of the ceiling, carefully selecting his vocabulary and drawing out his response for fear of all the wrong words spilling out. words that detail just exactly how much you've occupied his every waking thought, that express in every detail how he's thinking of you right now (a series of sentiments that are in no shape or form anything that just a roommate would feel). "funny, then honest,"
you shrug, shoulders brushing against his own as you offer him a seemingly disinterested countenance--one disrupted only by the slightest, upwards tug at the corner of your lips. "you're tolerable,"
he scoffs, thrusting an accusatory finger in your direction. one that begins with a high velocity only to falter backwards, much to close to nearly poking out your eye. the proximity is unprecedented, intimate, and he finds himself struggling to adjust to it (though he'd like too, get used to it that is--a thought that has the tip of his ears painted a charming shade of crimson). "if i'm tolerable, i can't imagine what ten is to you,"
you laugh and once more, kun finds himself attempting to commit it to memory. there's something different about it here, perhaps the closeness, perhaps the muddied humidity of the weather thats drenched itself over your sickeningly sweet, songbird intonation. or perhaps it's the way he can feel your chest shake with the vibrado of your entertainment or the details of your face (the way your eyelashes stick to your cheek, the crease of your brow, and the soft crescents that tug at the corner of your eyes). "do you really want to know?"
your tone is playful, question poised in between the beginnings of your snickering. a reception originated from the soft snarl on your roommate's lips and the ever-obvious widening of his eyes. an expression all too familiar in the confines of conversation about ten lee. the same ten lee who is a little too sweet on you for kun's liking and whom you seem to favor more than anyone else in your apartment's social circle. the same ten lee who knows this fact drives kun up the wall (and then some) and who uses this to his utter advantage (and amusement).
"no, no, don't tell me," kun corrects (though his dismissal sounds as if it's a hair away from begging) with the click of his tongue and a lazy flick of his wrist, waving off your taunt with no more than a dissatisfied huff, "i don't want to hear it,"
you quirk a brow, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek (another habit that kun is endeared too, one that makes his head spin and his knees feel weak). "afraid it's something good?"
his answer is immediate, an earnest confession made with no equivocation but only the barest bones of irritation (one garnered from the thought of your affection being directed at the cat-like blonde rather than himself ... completely normal for roommates, right?). "yes,"
in every depiction of how this conversation was going to go, you certainly never expected a straightforward, blunt answer from kun. or at least, not one that made your stomach plummet to your knees and your heart beat five times too fast. you might be suffering from a rapidly onset case of heat exhaustion, maybe sun poisoning? one look at his expression--eyes half lidded and brows furrowed to sit upon the slender bridge of his nose--says otherwise.
perhaps it's his own searing honesty (one that makes you feel much hotter than the weather does) or the soft, ardent tone of his reply but you find yourself posing him another question--one framed around a quieter, more tender lilt. "well do you want your honest answer?"
"as long as it's better than ten's,"
in any other scenario, you would jump at the chance to tease him. to hold his schoolboy-esque jealously over his head in a light-hearted triumph. to bring it up in any and every further conversation, only for the sake of pricking at his pride and to earn nothing but taunting grins and laughter from yourself. but when you try, when the words lay on the tip of your tongue ready to be spat out with a dizzying purr, you find yourself unable to find them. or say them. or anything with the way he's looking at you. an expression that screams impatience and an adoration that goes straight to your head--dizzying you to a degree of nausea (or butterflies fluttering against the walls of your stomach, the more likely yet less inclined explanation).
"i think you're my favorite,"
kun blinks slowly at you, tilting his head on his shoulder to get a better look, to determine if you were teasing (an outcome he dreads more than honesty). there's a smile toying at the edges of his lips, pulling up into a softened, tired grin. black eyelashes fawn against his cheeks, strands of platinum blonde falling before his eyes as he speaks. "your favorite what? roommate? because you only have on--"
"everything,"
you think you can pinpoint the exact moment when his breathe catches in his throat, a short-lived, choked sputter of a response that drags both him and you into an underlying, all consuming silence. one interwoven with the trill of the cicadas and the trembling, spontaneous steps of the curtains, locked in an undying trot with the july breeze.
"it's hot,"
you huff. "i've been saying that,"
he shifts, dropping his hand from his face to rest upon yours. it's a movement made with no indecision, no pause or procrastination. a gentle, delicate endearment emphasized by the threading of his fingers between your own. kun's words are quiet, a clarifying correction that only serves to worsen the flustered state of his countenance. "i feel hot,"
"yeah," you return, squeezing his hand against your own, "me too,"
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taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @firstdonutllamafarm @222brainrot @scinclaitnoir @yangasm thank you for all your support and love! ♡
🗯️ if there are ever two things i am absolutely obsessed over and crushed by, it's kun and summer. the latter of which everyone on this account is about to be made painfully aware of with the 10+ timestamp works in progress in my drafts that are all summer centered. i'm so endeared to kun, i am just so fond of him (·•᷄∩•᷅ ) so i hope that (and the sweetness of the mundane) was conveyed well here. this was also supposed to be no more than a couple hundred words ... but it's practically a short form (ง ͠ಥ_ಥ)ง i got a little overtaken by it ...
🧾 © 00127am 2024
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sadbreadloaf · 4 months
Text
on your lap | xiao dejun
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🎮 | pairing : bf!xiaojun x reader
🎮 | genre : fluff, falling asleep on him while he's playing video games
🎮 | word count : 481
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you come home after a long day of classes. you've just finished three big projects and you're ready to finally relax with your boyfriend.
"baby, i'm home"
"hey! i'm in the bedroom"
you can hear the nostalgic music of minecraft fill the halls. xiaojun's favourite way to destress, playing video games. he must've had a long day too.
"hi baby" you kiss him on the cheek
"hey, how was your day?"
"sooo tiring, i just finished up those three big projects and my body feels like it's about to collapse"
"gosh, i'm sorry you have to go through that, but i'm still proud of you for finishing"
"thank you, i'm so glad i have you"
"of course sweetie, anything for you"
"say, by anything, do you really mean that...?"
xiaojun laughs, "alright, what do you want?"
"can i sit on your lap while you play?"
"absolutely, c'mere"
you go over and sit facing towards xiaojun. you hug him, wrapping your arm around his neck and your head resting on his shoulder. his body heat flows through you and you can finally feel the stress release from your body.
xiaojun lays a kiss on the crown of your head and leans his head on yours. he can feel your breathing slow and your body relaxing over him. you almost like a weighted blanket for him.
"feeling better?"
"so much better, thank you"
"you're welcome darling. do you want me to talk or stay quiet?"
"you can keep talking, i like your voice..."
"heh, alright then. well, right now, i'm playing on our world. i just finished building our little house together, putting our beds together and i gave our dog leo a little dog bed."
"mhm"
"after this, i'll keep working on getting materials for going to the nether. i'm so excited to do that with you, exploring the world with you, seeing you die" xiaojun softly laughs at that
you try your best to stay awake, not wanting to fall asleep on him. but his voice is so soothing and how softly he speaks to you makes your eyes so heavy.
"and i wanted to start making you your own little farm, how does that sound? baby?"
he looks down to see you fully relaxed, eyes closed, and he could hear soft snoring coming from you.
he smiles, "was it really that boring?"
xiaojun puts down the controller and carefully wraps him arms around your body, trying not to wake you. he slowly lifts you up from the chair and to your shared bed. he gently places you down onto the soft mattress and covers you in the plush blankets.
after he gets himself ready, xiaojun joins the bed with you next to him. he turns towards you and takes you into his arms. he places a kiss on your forehead and snuggles into your neck.
"i love you baby, goodnight"
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a/n: i knew i'd find a way to get minecraft into one of these fics :D
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