#i dont care what it means to you. its a fun word you should use it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In Q3 of 2020, 31% of US users access the Tumblr app daily.

#i dont care what it means to you. its a fun word you should use it

rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

potential • z. chenle

pairing. zhong chenle x fem! reader genre. rich kids au, childhood friends au, friends with benefits au. angst, fluff, suggestive. word count. 20k (20.079) warnings. alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual activity, sexual innuendos, a heavy make out session or two, use of lyrics from ariana grande and sarah close and masking them as my own words a/n. why do we call it a rich kid chenle au when he's a rich kid irl. anyways for the fact that this was one of the most spontaneous fics ive ever written it sure did take a lot of time to execute. took a lot of inspo for the lifestyle from the sky castle kdrama so if its not accurate dont @ me bc ive never been rich LMAO

playlist. in my head – ariana grande ; successful – ariana grande ; nonsense – sabrina carpenter ; supermodel – måneskin ; that's what i like – bruno mars

You saw his potential without seeing credentials. And maybe that's the issue.

August 28, 2020 – somewhere in the Bali sea, 1:27 AM

The music is loud. The weather is humid.

Wrapping up the summer before your senior year, dancing around in the bar of the cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, one last stop before your 28-day cruise around Southeast Asia is over, the loud music from the bar rings in your ears as you dance around, a glass of expensive Mendis coconut Brandy swirling in your hold. The taste of the alcohol on your tongue burns, not quite used to the burning sensation in your mouth– this is one of the first times you’re drinking, since your parents were always big on prestige and acting classy. Your parents went to sleep, though– excited to explore Benoa tomorrow, to immerse themselves in nature and explore Bali’s temples and heritage. You, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to party– accompanied by none other than your parents’ friend’s son, who grew into the position of your childhood best friend solely because his and your family have always been close, choosing to spend vacations together; a relationship that was mostly fueled by the immediate closeness of you two during the summer breaks and ski trips to Swiss Alps every January.

And while you’re no stranger to pearls, charity events in your parents’ mansion in Hong Kong, golf courses in Miami and fashion shows in Milan, growing up in the world of designer bags and prestigious titles, you feel quite stranded in the middle of the sweaty teenagers, all of them with the same social status as you, drinking expensive alcohol and swinging your hips to the EDM music playing through the speakers. It almost feels like this is the first time you’re able to enjoy yourself without anyone’s supervision, screaming at the top of your lungs into Zhong Chenle’s face as he laughs at you on the dance floor, and truth be told, you could care less about the pictures you’re going to take for your Instagram tomorrow, showing everyone just how good you’re doing and how much fun you’re having on your lengthy cruises around the continent, because somehow, even though the bar is clothed in gold and you feel a bit like in The great Gatsby, this feels like the least pressuring part of the whole trip.

“We should go to parties more often!” you scream into Chenle’s ear, taking a sip of your Brandy as you twirl yourself around him, the straps of your sparkly spaghetti-strap tiny top falling off your shoulders in a moment of carelessness, your thoughts somewhere completely else. You may be 19 years old and insanely wealthy, but that still doesn’t mean you are experienced in the art of partying– quite the opposite, actually, having to always seem cultivated and presenting yourself in a way that would suggest that your family is high on prestige and recognition– so to finally be surrounded by people your age, dancing along to the music and jumping up as you all chant the lyrics to Barbie girl by Aqua (how ironic) feels quite ecstatic.

“Like our parents would let us,” Chenle rolls his eyes, lips almost pressed against the shell of your ear as he makes sure to get close enough for you to hear him.

Sighing at his argument– knowing he’s absolutely right, but also hating the fact that he had to ruin your mood by stating it out loud– you shake your head as you down the last bits of your drink, putting the heavy glass onto the tray of a waiter that’s passing by to gather the rest of the empty ones scattered across the shiny tables in the corner of the room. Your brain is starting to get a little fuzzy and you can’t help the giggling escaping out of your throat whenever your eyes meet Chenle’s, the flush on the boy’s cheeks hinting at the fact that he’s not any better at handling his alcohol than you, having just as much experience in heavy drinking and partying as you do.

You’re only 19 years old and you don’t know a lot about the world. After all, you were brought up in a family that always did everything for you– you never had to move a single finger. You never even had to clean your room, because your parents had people that would come by every morning while you were in school, just so you could arrive home to a tidy place when you were done with your lectures. You went to a private school, so you were always surrounded by people with a status similar to yours. You spoke about your tutoring classes that cost more than groceries for a middle-class family a week, you talked about your trips abroad, and if you had time, you even went shopping with your classmates after school before your driver picked you up and drove you back into the suburbs; your neighborhood guarded by a gate, the asphalt behind it so much smoother than it is in the rest of the town.

You never got to experience partying like this– only gaping with an open mouth when you saw those scenes in the movies you watched on Netflix in your own private movie room. And if you’re being totally honest, you never imagined enjoying such a thing. You never had the experience, so you didn’t really yearn for it, but now that you’re here, surrounded by loud music, experiencing the weird emotional feeling that comes with being in a crowd screaming in joy at the same time first-hand on your own skin, you don’t think you’ll be able to go back to how you were before.

This is not how rich kids party. At least not when their parents are around.

“You’re gonna be hungover tomorrow morning,” Chenle mutters into your ear when your eyes light up at the sight of more alcohol, contemplating on getting another drink, just because.

“And you’re not?” you tease him, pointing to his glossy eyes and lazy walk, his legs tangling with each other every few seconds from the haze he’s been put in just by having a few drinks. The sight is quite funny– the ever-so composed millionaire son is now a troubled mess in your eyes; one wrong step and he could ruin the image his family has spent years to build up, but it doesn’t seem like either of you care, tripping over your feet and lounging at each other in the middle of the dance floor.

Feeling like you’re playing a dangerous game, hanging off his neck and swaying your hips to the rhythmic beat, you gape into his blown-out eyes and desperately try to get your brain straight. The more you drank and the more you spent time in Chenle’s close proximity, the less you were able to control your emotions and the weird thoughts in your brain that have been slowly eating up all your notions for quite some time now. Gaping at his plump lips and feeling his palms burning at your hips, his fingers ever-so-slightly hovering above the curve of your ass, you’re finding it hard to concentrate on the music or on the words spilling off his tongue, his voice never shutting up even in the loud bar. You always told him he talks too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind– he seems to actually take much pride in his annoying tendencies, talking your ear off on multiple occasions even when you tell him he should probably stay quiet for at least a minute, so your brain could recharge.

Truth be told, you listen to him most of the time anyway. He always talks and you always listen, rolling your eyes at the snarky parts and giggling at the jokes; so the fact that you suddenly can’t focus and just desperately want him to shut the fuck up must be the effect of all the alcohol you’ve been drinking tonight.

And your next step might as well be the main consequence of the coconut Brandy as well– because even though you’ve been dreaming of his plump lips on yours for quite some time now, you’ve never actually dared to act up on the desire. But your intention to make him go quiet seems to be working when the train of words stammering out of his mouth is cut off, a surprised noise trailing out of his throat when you kiss him on the dance floor; and to your surprise, he doesn’t seem to mind your weird sign of protest to his endless talking– quite the opposite, really, as he lets you take the lead and taste the mix of alcohol in the Long Island cocktails he’s been drinking the whole night off his tongue, your hands mindlessly trailing up to thread themselves into his hair.

This is not your first time kissing a boy– you once pecked Song Eunseok on the lips when the two of you sneaked out of class one day in 9th grade– but you never once kissed anyone with such passion and desire before. You’re not sure where you got all the courage from and you’re also not sure where you learned all of this– but it must be working, with how heavily Chenle’s breathing when you finally let go of his lips and he rests his forehead against yours. In no time, he’s chasing you down again, drunk not only on the alcohol now as he tilts his head to get closer, one hand resting on the side of your neck, just a few inches below your jaw, keeping you in place.

“You should learn how to shut up,” you mumble against his lips, breathing heavy as you break away from him again and open your eyes to meet your gaze with his. The music is still loud in your ears, but you swear you hear a static noise somewhere in your brain, a tingle in your fingertips making you feel like you’re about to have an out-of-body experience. Your drunken brain is not allowing you to ponder about your actions that much, not letting you think and contemplate the fact that you just made out with your childhood best friend on one of the most expensive cruise ships, drinking alcohol you weren’t supposed to spend so much money on, and maybe that’s a good thing– because there’s nothing stopping you in having the time of your life, no overthinking making you doubt your next steps and no feeling of shame or regret making the whole experience bitter as you dance pressed against your companion, letting him press short, yet daring kisses to your lips as time passes.

“I think I’m good,” he snickers, when the music suddenly cuts out, an announcer telling you that the bar closes at 2 AM and that this song is the last for the night.

Sighing in disappointment– because who even knows when the next time you’ll have this opportunity will come– you let Chenle lead you out of the bar, his hand glued around your exposed waist. Your walk is a little loop-sided and you two almost smash into the glass door (doesn’t matter that it’s automatic and it quite literally opened in front of your figures). Soon enough, you’re met with the golden interior of the cruise walls again, the design a little vintage, yet still luxurious, reminding you of the movie Titanic. Tripping over the doorsteps, hands getting caught on the red, velvety curtains hung around, you giggle at every word that comes out of Chenle’s mouth, bodies slowly, but surely getting closer and closer to your suite bedrooms. You’re quite sure your parents could hear you talking outside in the hall, but you choose to not ponder on what they would think of you if they saw you in this state too much, instead making yourself believe that they’re long asleep and won’t be woken up by your voices resonating through the quiet space.

“So I guess this is where we say goodnight?” you mumble, hanging off Chenle’s neck. His breath smells of the vodka-tequila mix when he hovers over you, bodies off-balance pressed against the cold wall just outside of your bedroom. Flashing you a grin, face looking close to a cheshire cat, he nudges your nose with his, a quiet hum landing to your ear, not heard by anyone.

“Or we could stay up a little longer.”

Squirming under his touch, his lips softly, yet still a little uncoordinatedly landing on yours, you waste no time in unlocking the door to your room– even though you have a bit of trouble with finding the key in your small purse, even surprised you haven’t lost the bag somewhere in the middle of the night– letting your childhood friend in to your space at the suggestion, your clothed bodies falling to the soft cushions of the water bed.

You’re only 19 and don’t know much about the world when you messily undress yourself under your friend’s eyes, blinded by the glints in his deep chocolate orbs when he looks at you from above and attacks your neck with kisses. And you usually don’t regret much, considering yourself a responsible individual, always rethinking everything and making sure it’s the right choice, but when you look back at this day now, you don’t really know if sleeping with Zhong Chenle on a cruise around Southeast Asia was the brightest idea of yours, considering the mental turmoil it’s gonna cause you on the way.

Well, at least you can say you lost your virginity somewhere in the middle of the Bali sea, and at least that’s something to boost your ego with, am I right…?

July 12, 2007 – Tokyo DisneySea, 2:21 PM

If anyone asked you for your favorite childhood memory, you wouldn’t have a hard time picking one. Sure, one would think you have too many pleasant memories to choose from, so realistically, you should take more time to pick and weigh the value of each one, contemplating if the trip to Rome was a happier memory than the summer you spent in Los Angeles when you were 10, but you are 100%, completely in tune with the fact that if anyone ever asked you this very question, the words falling off their tongue with interest and enthusiasm, no judgment and no hidden intentions behind their question, you’d have an answer ready with a smile on your face.

You don’t hold much emotion to your past memories. You’ve been on more vacations than you can both count and remember growing up, and so even though you do think the pictures you took in Italy came out good and your skin glistens prettily in the warm sun, even though you do think you experienced a lot of fun while going to the Target for the first time with your nanny– the woman your mum hired just because your parents were too busy with their business meetings the whole time you walked the streets of Los Angeles with the new woman you were supposed to trust with your life at the ripe age of 10– you wouldn’t say any of those memories are as close to your heart as the trip you took to Japan with the Zhong family when you were 6, the summer before attending first grade.

This was the year you and Chenle watched the Pirates of the Caribbean together for the first time, and even though it wasn’t in the initial plan, you two spent hours and hours and hours of the flight persuading your parents to take you to Tokyo Disneyland, because you heard from his cousin Yizhuo that you could meet Jack Sparrow if you went. While your plan didn’t exactly work and the two of you didn’t get to go to the large theme park– because your parents were busy, mostly traveling because of business and so they didn’t have the time to arrange it, the amount of sulking you two did when you arrived to the rented house in the expensive part of Tokyo to the teenager that was supposed to watch you two for the time being was enough for him to take you two on a short train ride to the twin of the famous theme park– the Tokyo DisneySea.

The 15-minute train ride you three took to the theme park was your first, and also last time you ever rode such a mean of transport. All you were used to were expensive sports cars and limousines– you never imagined that people took such transport even every single day, at times. You and Chenle were so immersed in the journey that it was hard for your babysitter to get you out of the train, your small, excited bodies almost tripping over your own little feet as the raven-haired boy dragged you through the streets of Maihama station.

You could see the towers of the park and you could smell the salt from the sea even from a distance. The whole atmosphere felt magical, giggles often erupting out of your throat as Yuta– the boy your parents hired to watch over you for the day– bought a bubble blower from one of the stands and blew out bubbles you two chased around and tried to pop before they got to the ground. There were no expensive cars in sight, no people dressed in suits and designer shoes– well, except from the two of you, but you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of how much your attire cost at that age yet– and you felt truly, insanely happy. The adults that always watched you when your parents went to business meetings were stern and serious, never letting you have much fun, but today was different, and you find yourself wondering why your parents even let you be babysat by a reckless teenager in the first place. He was 16 at the time– 10 years older than the both of you– and when you look back at the day now, you think it was the time pressure that brought your parents into hiring him. You bet they paid him a lot of money, hell, you bet they even lended him a credit card he could use to entertain you two for the whole afternoon, and even though you found him using it a few times, you didn’t think he spent just as much as all your previous babysitters did.

Not that you knew the value of money back then, after all. Maybe the fact that you couldn’t tell how much money everything was worth back then is what truly made the whole day so carefree and happy for you.

You were children of wealthy Chinese business owners. You always had everything they saw in your eyes– you didn’t even have to say it out loud and it was held up to you on a silver platter. This day, though, you didn’t even have to use that much money– if you truly compare it to other vacations your families have been to– and you can’t help but think it’s ironic how despite this fact, this day is still your favorite childhood memory.

The Tokyo DisneySea was catered to a more mature audience– even serving alcohol in the premises, a thing no other Disneyland does– but even though you were just 6 and couldn’t drink and there was no Jack Sparrow waiting for you in the streets of the theme park, you and Chenle had a blast. Maybe it was a good decision on Yuta’s part to take you to the DisneySea instead; it catered to your Pirates of the Caribbean needs perfectly despite it not being the initial theme. The ships and wooden coasts and harbors were enough for your imagination to create stories about pirates in your head, the three of you attending various rides and screaming at the top of your lungs together over the course of the afternoon.

“Wanna go to the Tower of Terror?” Yuta asked you, his toothy grin on full display as he dragged you two to the scary ride when you finally got to the American Waterfront.

The teenager was wearing a black muscle top with L’arc en ciel written on it– you found out only a few years later that it was a japanese rock band– and with his long, black hair falling to his forehead, he looked just like the person that would enjoy scary rides and horror movies. You, however– you weren’t prepared to get scared by green ghosts and eerie music. Not at 6 years old anyways, although you doubt you’d do better on this day.

If there’s one thing you need to know about Zhong Chenle, it’s the fact that he’s a lover of horror. And Korean dramas. But mostly horror– a few years later, when you were both the age Nakamoto Yuta was when he brought you to the Tokyo DisneySea, your friend came to a Halloween party dressed like the clown from IT and managed to jump-scare you every moment he physically got. There was no surprise in the small boy liking the idea of attending the scary ride, and no matter how hard you tried and protested, there was no use in you saying no. Because the two of them wanted to go, and you, quoting Yuta, ‘couldn’t just stay alone outside’, so you were pretty much forced into the darkness of the Tower of Terror, your small body pressed against Chenle and Yuta’s– you refused to sit anywhere but sandwiched between the two in the middle of the cart– shutting your eyes close when the scary music started playing and you could feel the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

You trembled the whole time, panic resting in your beating heart, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself clinging to Chenle’s small hand, squishing it so hard he screamed at you in the dim lightning of the ride. You didn’t let go, though– that’s what he gets for dragging you along– fracturing his bones wasn’t in your concerns, if it made you feel more secure and safe.

The fond memory of the day ends with the moment the scary ride is over and you finally get out of the darkness– with Yuta having to carry your out of terror half-paralyzed body from the cart. To this day, you still don’t have a clear outlook on why this day is your favorite childhood memory, but you think it might be the mix of Chenle’s excited laughter as he scared you every two seconds after the ride, the apologetic hug he enveloped you in after you almost burst to tears the third time, the taste of the sausage Yuta bought you two for dinner, the taxi ride to the rented house you had to take in a rush before your parents got back from their business meeting, and the melodic voice of your best friend when he sang you the opening theme to the Pirates of the Caribbean before you two fell asleep on the same bed in your hotel room.

Either way, despite the terror, you don’t think you’ve ever had this much fun ever again.

When you peed the bed that night, your parents decided to never hire a teenager to look after the two of you again. From that moment alone, there was less horror, but also less fun.

May 5, 2019 – tennis courts in Jinqiao, Shanghai, 4:17 PM

One would think that growing up with Zhong Chenle would put him into a position of your almost-brother. And while you did agree with the statement on most days– like when he laughed so hard that snot came out of his nose and almost fell into your lunch plate when you were 15, or when he shot you with his paintball gun so hard you had a bruise on your knee for three weeks when you were 17– you think you’re starting to slowly outgrow this phase.

Zhong Chenle is no longer a brotherly figure to you when you two pick up tennis at the ripe age of 18.

It wasn’t either of your ideas, of course. Tennis is not a sport a teenager just suddenly picks up one day because they’re interested– at least not when you’re incredibly wealthy and can pretty much afford any other hobby in the entire world. No, it was the idea of Chenle’s mother– because, quoting, ‘the kids barely go out these days, they might as well pick up a sport!’ – and with the copycat tendencies of your dear mum, you were dragged along into it as well. And so now, during the finals season, on top of that, you two have to go play tennis on one of the private tennis courts your families rent for three hours a day every Friday afternoon instead of studying or focusing on getting your stress out of your body doing other, much more enjoyable things.

“You know, you look a little too excited for someone who hates playing tennis,” Renjun– the neighborhood kid (your parents being business partners for quite some time now made you and the short boy become friends somewhere along the way)– states, snickering as he lays on one of the benches on the side, his own tennis racket thrown carelessly on the ground as he watches the two of you running around the court, playing.

“I only do it because I’m bored,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sending the little yellow ball over the net with much force, making you run to the other side of the court.

“And I only do it because I need to prove to him that he’s not the best at everything he tries,” you add, sending the ball back to your friend.

“Just say you want to impress him and go,” Yizhuo– Chenle’s cousin from his mother’s side– teases you from the bench, sitting next to Renjun. Her remark doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you send the yellow ball her way after her cousin passes it towards your side of the court again, aiming precisely for her forehead but missing, earning yourself a terrified yelp out of the girl when she scootches closer to the boy next to her.

“That’s totally not what’s going on, but sure,” you roll your eyes at her when she throws the ball back, but you don’t feel interested in continuing the game anymore. Tiredly walking closer to the two sitting at the little shaded bench, wiping the sweat off your forehead, you try hard to not think of the snarky remark that was sent your way.

Is it really that obvious? Because sure, you’ve always found Zhong Chenle to be your brother figure over the years of growing up– but there’s something about the humid air of the tennis court and his competitiveness that have you eyeing him when he takes a sip from his water bottle or when he adjusts the hairband sitting on his damp forehead. He wears shorts that reveal his calves very nicely, and when you play 2 on 2, you find yourself focusing less and less on the game– earning yourself a frustrated yell from Ning Yizhuo herself as she plays along your side– and more and more on the Gucci tennis shoes adorning his feet as you scan the boy up and down, his figure growing taller and taller each passing day captivating you in a sense you’ve never quite experienced before.

“I can’t believe my mum dragged you all into this shit,” Chenle giggles when he sits next to Renjun on the bench, following you to the shade. There’s only 20 minutes left in the time your parents rented the court for and you figure that you can spend that time recharging your energy instead of playing the boring game.

“Not me,” Yizhuo says, “she made my mother feel bad about not signing me up for any sports. You know, your mum’s pretty persuasive, especially when it comes to looking good in front of everyone. If it wasn’t for my mum, I wouldn’t be doing this shit,” she complains, shrugging as she adjusts her ponytail that’s always sitting neatly on the crown of her head.

“I love the fact that Renjun here is the least athletic out of all of us, but he is the only one here willingly,” you snicker, earning yourself a chant of amused laughs at the spoken truth. Now, nobody forced Huang Renjun to come play tennis with you every Friday– but the fact that he doesn’t have many friends in the neighborhood was what made him come along, too bored on his own and with nothing to put his attention to. He doesn’t like playing much, but everything’s better than sitting alone at home, am I right?

The three of you gossip about everything and nothing– the new family in the neighborhood, especially, because Renjun saw their son last Sunday and found his outfit absolutely atrocious (“You’d think people with money would at least know how to dress well, but no. That’s not the case with that Wen Junhui guy.”). The time passes by quickly, and when the timer on Chenle’s phone goes off, signaling that the three mandatory hours at the tennis court are finally over, you all stand up and walk over to the gate, shoes dragging along the sandy surface of the ground with much tiredness. At least you’re getting some cardio in…

“Is your driver coming to pick you up?” Chenle asks as you pay goodbye to your friends, both of them getting into expensive cars waiting for them at the parking lot. Turning to him, you hum in agreement, suddenly shy under his gaze. It’s not even summer yet, but the May sun is already harsh on the skin, getting redness to spread along his cheeks, only further sculpting his handsome bone structure you’ve grown so familiar with over the years.

“What about you?”

“Told my mum I’ll walk home instead. It’s not like it’s only a 20 minute walk anyway,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at the irony of you having to drive home despite living only a few meters away from him, in the same wealthy neighborhood. You grew up together, in the same mowed lawns, in the same green labyrinths of your families’ villas, in the same high ceilings and golden accents on the interior of your houses. After watching him from the corner of your eye, you start to wonder about what changed between the two of you that made you so weak to him now, that you’re both 18. Did he change? Was it the fact that you were now both adults? You don’t think that’s the case– because even though you were 18, there were no more responsibilities waiting for you than they were the years before.

“My driver can take you,” you say, kicking the rocks below your feet, “well, unless you want to walk home alone instead,” you add, noting his previous sentence.

You see him take a sip out of his water bottle, shrugging at your suggestion. Chenle’s not a fan of inefficiency, no matter the fact that you can afford anything you could ever want. It’s a quality of him you find quite strange some days, but you don’t ponder on it too much.

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. And after replaying all the memories you have with the boy in your head, you think that your 18 year old self isn’t so stupid for falling for him. See– you’ve got to know a lot of men over the course of your life. Many tried to get with you barely before you even grew into an adult, seeing the vision of money and the social status you could give them. Some, on the other hand, never gave you back the attention you were giving them. All relationships you had in your life were blinded by the imaginary price tag you always carried around with yourself, and so everything always stayed surface-level and plain. No wonder you fell for Chenle– no matter how long it took you to get to this part of your friendship– he’s the only one that ever showed you his true self, he’s the only one that ever trusted you enough to go deeper in conversations with you and treated you like a real human being. You know him well and he knows you well; he’s like a book you always find yourself rereading, excited to find that your favorite characters always stayed the same. At the end of the day, you think you were always meant to fall for Chenle.

Standing under the blazing sun, you wait for your driver to get to the tennis courts. You wait for 10 minutes, then 15– and when you get a little too overheated, Chenle offers you his water bottle and mumbles something about being on time. When the time passes 45 minutes after your driver’s supposed arrival, your friend turns to you with a glint in his eye, a grin sitting on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Wanna walk home with me instead?”

And the truth is, you don’t find yourself disagreeing. And you also don’t find yourself hating the walk up the hills of the neighborhood– no matter how tiring it was to your already exhausted limbs– and you don’t find yourself complaining about the lack of AC or the vehicle driving your ass home to your, admittedly, too big of a house. Chenle entertains you with his talks– because he always talks too much for his own good– and when you stop paying attention to him and lose track of where you’re going, he drags you back to the sidewalk by your hand and your fingers stay interlocked when he teases you about the fact that you almost got ran over by a white Cadillac.

“Listen, there’s this song I think you’ll like,” he hums when you’re 5 minutes away from your house, pulling out his phone out of his back pocket and opening up the Spotify app. He plays you a song by Ariana Grande, singing along to the lyrics of the chorus. His voice goes thin when he tries to mimic the singer’s voice, dragging along the english sentences of ‘it feels so good to be this young and have this fun and be successful, i’m so successful!’, irony seeping from his tone. Your hands are still intertwined as he swings them back and forth and you don’t even really care about the subtle implication of the lyrics he’s singing– because it’s Chenle, and despite being just as wealthy as you, he’s no stranger to calling you a snob.

When you’re 18 and walking back from your weekly tennis endeavors, you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your heart when your friend twirls you around in your driveway, your white tennis skirt childishly fulfilling your unsaid dreams of becoming a ballerina, before he walks to his house standing on the opposite side of the road.

You don’t even care that your poor driver got fired by your mother right after she realized he forgot to pick you up from the tennis court as much.

October 17, 2020 – a charity evening, Shanghai, 9:11 PM

Your whole life so far has been guided in the aura of money. When you were little, you didn’t realize it as much– your young, undeveloped brain couldn’t phantom the fact that your annual trips to Italy and summer vacations at yachts and in the Paris DisneyLand weren’t a normal occurrence to everyone. You couldn’t understand the value of money, and you think that maybe, you never truly will. Because you were born fortunate, never having to worry about a single thing, always living in wealth and with gold around your neck.

The closest you are to understanding just how much money your family truly has is at the charity evenings you are forced to attend. Walking around, mostly bored– because truly, you didn’t have much of an idea just how much money you’re sending to the unfortunate parts of Africa and what the whole thing even has to do with you, when the money wasn’t really yours in the first place– you try to at least look through the flier your family made for the event, reading through the carefully crafted sentences, feeling at least a little sorry for everyone that doesn’t get to live the way you do.

“Isn’t it funny how this is the only way our families can present themselves in a good light?” Chenle mumbles when he reads over your shoulder, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

Turning around to look at your companion, you furrow your brows at his snarky comment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we give to charity so people don’t hate us as much,” Chenle shrugs, taking a sip from the champagne poured in a tall glass you’re pretty sure your mother spent hours and hours picking out when renting this place, just so everything could be perfect.

“It’s just jealousy,” you say as you walk side-by-side with the boy, the expensive fabric of his white button-down hugging his body in all the right places, leaving you light-headed when you let yourself indulge in your thoughts for too long and stare at the curves of his forearms. It’s been a few months since you slept with your childhood friend– and while you must admit that you regretted it a little when you woke up in the morning, with a hangover and sore limbs, you also didn’t regret it as much as to turn the offer down when it was next brought to you. And the next time, and the next…

“You think?” Chenle asks, and his interest in your answer seems genuine.

“Yeah,” you nod, shrugging to yourself, “we have more money than any of them ever will, so it’s only natural for people to feel jealous and talk spiteful things about us.”

Chenle hums at your answer, licking his lips before he looks you dead in the eye, the smallest glint of irony shining from behind the dark orbs, making you shrink under his gaze. “It’s not like it’s hard work anyway,” Chenle mutters, “if it wasn’t all stolen money, at least the charity work wouldn’t feel as fake.”

You stop in your tracks at the comment, furrowing your brows. “Stolen money?”

The boy next to you snickers at your clueless eyes. It’s no wonder you never really cared about the source of your family’s wealth– you were born to it, so you never had a reason to doubt it. And truth be told, you never really complained either. You don’t think anyone in your place would, really. You just accepted it the way it is, and you never asked any questions. For all you know, your parents are hard working business owners– you bet their money is well deserved for the amount of effort they put in– so to hear that it’s stolen money, from someone who is in a similar position as you, on top of that, you can’t believe your ears.

“I mean, they’re business owners. Let’s not act like both yours and my parents don’t meddle with the taxes at least a bit, sweetheart,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “if I were all those people outside of it, I’d hate myself too.”

His words do little to comfort you. They do quite the opposite, really, and even though Zhong Chenle has no proof to show you of the fact that your parents might have at least a bit of dirty money on their hands, you can’t say you don’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’re that gullible– and who is the one lying straight to your eyes now, if it’s your friend or your parents– and you start to believe that you’d trust everything Chenle tells you, because that’s just the relationship you have with him. He could do anything and you’d follow him to the end of the world. It takes years to build that bond, and so even know, although you have the urge to scream at him for talking such things about the ones that brought you to this world– this perfect, shiny world– you find yourself holding back, the bubble around you bursting in a second, although you spent 19 years of your life living in the fake glory and bejeweled experience. Opening your mouth to ask him more about the matter– to get yourself out of the confusion you’ve been put in with just a few sentences uttered out of his always too-honest mouth, you turn to the boy when a man with a camera approaches the two of you, asking to take a picture of you.

And you comply, because what else are you supposed to do? This is how you’ve been raised. You smile for the pictures, you grin when you find yourself in the magazines, you nod when people recognise your name, you greet people with a polite nod, because you never know when someone wants to make business with your parents and you wouldn’t want to ruin good opportunities for them, would you?

With Chenle’s arm around your waist, your body instinctively leaning into his touch, you smile for yet another picture for the portfolio. Sometimes you feel like a princess– with everything it takes; both the royal responsibilities and the special treatment. More often than not, you find yourself enjoying the spotlight.

“Now they have proof that we were here,” Chenle mumbles into your ear, his lips gently brushing the smooth skin, “wanna get out of here? This party doesn’t look as enjoyable as the last one we went to,” the boy references the time you spent together at the cruise ship, with both the screaming on the dancefloor, and also the aftermath in your room, making heat puddle in your cheeks as you swat his hand away before it gets too low on your back in front of everyone in the room.

“I have to give a speech, but… maybe later?” you look at him, innocently batting your eyelashes at him, when the boy shrugs and takes a step back, downing the last drops of champagne from the expensive looking glass.

“I’ll be waiting back home,” Chenle says, “I bet our parents will stay until this all ends, so we have plenty of time for ourselves when you decide you’re tired of the gala.”

He disappears out of your sight the moment after, putting the empty glass onto a tray of one of the waiters carefully walking across the room, his back escaping out the front door. If you squint hard enough through the glass, you could see him getting into one of the sports cars he got from his parents for his 18th birthday– the vehicle driving off in the hands of his driver for the night, since he just had a glass of alcohol– and leaving you alone in the world of faux and feathers, fulfilling the responsibilities given to you by your mother. And for the first time– not only because you hate giving public speeches– you so desperately want to follow him, getting out before midnight like Cinderella, never attending another one of these evenings ever again.

You don’t, though. You’re an obedient daughter.

And when you call him up from the entryway a few minutes after midnight, his rough hands welcoming you to his bedroom by undressing the thousand-dollar Tiffany dress you wore to the event– being the aftermath of his previous words or not, you start to think how ironic it is that your attire for the evening cost more than than the monthly rent of the people you were giving to in your speech.

After a while, your words turn bitter.

March 23, 2020 – South Cape Owners Club, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea, 1:17 PM

“Did you really have to choose the most boring thing to do for your birthday?” Chenle mutters under his nose when all of your parents stride forward to get another hole in one, beads of sweat appearing on your foreheads as you stand directly under the midday sun.

“This wasn’t my idea, okay?” Renjun huffs, carrying his golf equipment with him, the silly-looking golf gloves tugged right off his hands when his parents are no longer in sight. “All I wanted was to visit my grandma, but they decided we needed to do something special for my birthday, and when I couldn’t tell them anything I’d like to do, they dragged everyone to play golf.”

“I was thinking more like… clubbing and then crashing at your grandma’s place overnight, but okay…” Yizhuo snickers, watching as all of your parents joyfully talk between themselves, their conversation rarely leaving business matters as they play golf with as much enthusiasm as one can have while focusing on this boring sport. You don’t really know who made this game and why they made it– you can imagine seventy thousand different ways you’d love to spend your afternoon doing instead, more than a half of them supposedly more mundane than the sport itself; but you still know you’d enjoy even sitting down and getting ice cream better than having to pretend you’re interested in, what Chenle called, rich-people-only sport.

“Maybe I can sneak a bottle up into my room later, but I’m not promising anything,” Renjun shrugs, sighing to himself as he takes out his phone from his back pocket and shakes his head at the sight of the time appearing on his screen. You’ve been at the golf course since 10 AM, and with how interested in the game your parents seem to be, you’re not leaving any time soon either.

Not really engaged in the conversation– because Chenle once told you you complain too much (you truly thought he was the one doing so, but you believe pretty much everything that comes out of the man’s mouth, because he’s mostly right about things) and you think you’ve done your fair share of complaining on your way to the golf course in the first place– you look around, trying to find a thing that could occupy your attention instead. Finding anything fun to do while playing golf may just be the hardest thing to do, but when you notice your companion Chenle missing and his figure appears striding towards your small group in a golf cart, the vehicle going full speed (even the barely 40 km/h looks like it could kill when he seems to not give a single damn about running you over), and suddenly, your mind is occupied enough.

Screeching when the golf cart barely misses your figure, you jump to the side and watch Chenle laugh from the driver’s seat. His malicious instincts barely ever leave his body and the operation of a golf cart is seemingly bringing out the worst in him– thank god he barely drives anymore– and you can’t help but laugh at his little stunt when the cart comes to a sharp halt and he waves you three over with a motion of his hand.

“Hop on, motherfuckers, we have places to be!” he says, all of you following his footsteps and jumping into the small vehicle– you in the passenger seat, next to Chenle, and Renjun and Yizhuo taking the two seats on the back. Once you’re all in, the engine grunts with the speed Chenle’s intending to get to in the weak thing, the atmosphere shifts into one with much more fun and adrenaline– because you know you’re not supposed to ride the carts (not this fast anyway) and when your parents find out, you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble. No, you’re not going to get grounded– you’re not a kid anymore– but the silent treatment and nagging from them about being well-raised and respectable members of society is enough to leave you scared of their anger for the rest of your lives.

“Slow down, I’m gonna fall out!” you scream when Chenle takes a sharp turn, the golf cart almost toppling over on the green grass.

“I got you, don’t worry,” he notes, one of his hands loosely falling to your thigh to keep you in place, your skin heating up even more from his touch now, enjoying the hold but also fearing the eyes of your friends from the backseat. Your earlier terror is quickly erased with another sharp turn the driver takes– having much more things to worry about now, surviving being one of them– and when he zooms past the group of middle-aged people standing a few meters ahead of you, you already know you’re in big trouble.

Now you’re gonna get scolded for abducting a golf cart. When it wasn’t even your idea in the first place.

Well, that’s something to worry about later.

Chenle drives with the cart all over the golf course, the vehicle providing you enough entertainment for the next few minutes until you get tired of the ride. Looking over at him on your side, gaping a little at the view of your childhood friend driving the cart with only one hand, the other one still securely glazing your thigh, you almost choke out with how attractive the strange sight is to your eyes. Forcing yourself to focus on the road– and thank god, because if you didn’t hold to the side of the cart now, you’d surely fall out despite Chenle’s reassuring words and his hold on your leg– when the man cuts through a small hill in the golf course, the vehicle jumping up and falling back down making you scream in terror mixed with just a bit of excitement.

“Fucking hell, at least warn us before!” Renjun screams from the back, followed by Yizhuo’s amused laughter. You can only imagine Renjun’s almost fallen out, and even though the mental image looks hilarious, you really don’t need him to get hurt today, because he wouldn’t shut up about it for the next 8 working days. And it’s his birthday, after all– you wouldn’t wanna ruin it by having too much fun.

And so, with a last giggle escaping the boy’s throat, Chenle brings the golf cart to a halt, the vehicle stopping far enough from your parents to not get scolded immediately for making so much ruckus at the golf cart, the four of you enjoying the silence, still recovering from the wild ride. Smiling fondly to yourself and gaping at the boy next to you again, you suddenly grow appreciative of him. If it wasn’t for his wild nature, you would still be sulking somewhere on the golf course, pretending to enjoy living your snobby life alongside your parents. You bet even Renjun himself will find this moment captured in his brain as a core birthday memory, and the more you stare at Chenle’s side profile, the more you want to hold his face in your hands and thank him.

“Ew,” you hear Yizhuo’s voice from behind you, bringing you out of your thoughts. Looking back to see what she’s referring to, you watch her gaze landing on Chenle’s hand playing with the flesh on your thigh, heat suddenly rising to your cheeks in being caught in the exact position you feared a little while ago.

“What–” Chenle snaps his head back at his cousin, while you quickly shrug his palm off your skin, but it’s too late now– you’ve been caught in the act and now you can’t do anything to erase Ning Yizhuo’s memory.

“You know, I thought you two were cousins at first. Like, from your dad’s side, I mean,” Yizhuo sighs, shaking her head in disbelief at the two of you, her comment not doing much to ease the situation either. Chenle seems to be confused at her words, his face scrunching up as he glares at the girl.

“We’re not,” you note, clearing your throat and looking at her with a glare, mentally praying for her to drop the topic.

“Yeah, thank god,” Chenle adds, and you should’ve expected him to make the situation even worse– it’s Zhong Chenle, after all– but his next words shock you and leave you gasping, mentally killing him right here and in this moment, “that would make a lot of things weird.”

“Ew,” Yizhuo repeats, and suddenly, that perks up Renjun’s attention– the boy previously facing the other side of the golf course and not paying you three much care– as he looks around and watches you with confusion in his features.

“What are you talking about?”

“That they are–” the girl takes it upon herself to explain her findings, but she’s quickly cut off by a sound of a middle-aged woman screaming through the place, her small figure striding towards the golf cart.

“Zhong Chenle, what do you think you’re doing?!”

And with that scolding tone, the previous topic is dropped. Thank god.

June 12, 2020 – Zhong Chenle’s room, Shanghai, 11:21 PM

A hand stroking through his hair, smoothing back the bangs and revealing his forehead in the dim blue of the neon light in his room, you lay on your side next to your friend Chenle, a blanket carelessly thrown over your half-naked middles to shield you from the breeze. You hum a song under your breath as you play with his locks, the black disappearing between your fingers like sand, eyes carefully watching his tired expression.

If you thought hard enough, you could see the little boy you first met at your parent’s conference room when you were 3 materialize in front of your eyes. His cheeks were chubby and he was short, waddling behind you almost a head less than your size, and his voice was thin as he asked you for your name. From that moment on, you knew you were supposed to stick together– and while your parents were the first relative to bring you two together, you didn’t mind always being glued to each other’s hips.

When you look closer at him now, it’s hard to see that boy in him. Harder than you expected, if you’re being totally honest. Don’t get me wrong, you can still see in his features– even though his cheekbones are more prominent now and his jaw is more chiseled, lips plumper and his figure built more firmly than when he was a little boy– but there’s something about his demeanor that completely changed over time. He seems less enthusiastic, and while one would think that it’s just him growing into being a more laid-back and relaxed person– he’s not a kid anymore, after all– you think there’s something more to it, you just can’t quite put your finger to it.

Seeing him close his eyes every once in a while, lids falling under the weight of his tiredness and the comfort your gentle strokes through his scalp give him, you feel your heart clench with all the care you’re currently putting into the boy, and all that you’ve been putting into him throughout your growing up. After so many years– after getting so close and intimate with him– you don’t think you’d be able to let the boy go, and just the sheer image of ever losing him or leaving him behind leaves you trembling with anxiety.

And so, despite being afraid of ruining the calm atmosphere that comes after making love to him, you speak up with a weak voice, contrasting to what you’re logically supposed to feel after getting to know the news this morning– just because you have to know.

“Lele?” you mumble, hearing him let out a hum, his voice sounding as if he’s half-asleep, but you know he’s listening to you. “What are your plans… after you graduate?” you ask. The day of graduation is coming faster and faster towards you, the years you’ve spent at high school finally fulfilled after all the effort you put in on your finals.

“Dunno,” he replies, eyes barely opened as his arm that’s been previously laid on the mattress in between your two bodies moves to your hip, fingers drumming over the soft skin, “why?”

“Just wondering…” you speak, voice barely louder than a whisper. The boy stays silent– his eyes once again closing on themselves as you continue to play with his hair. One would think he’s fallen asleep, not awake enough to have this conversation, and you would even believe the fact and let the conversation go, thinking you’d find another time to dwell on this topic, but then, as a surprise, his voice startles you from your deep thoughts when he curiously inquires you, the hand on your hip steadying.

“What about you?”

Taking a deep breath in and out, a smile battling to take over your lips, you lick your lips in the heartbeat that comes before your answer. Swallowing your nerves– because even though you should’ve told him the moment you got the news this morning, you’re somehow stressed out about the action of doing so– you open your mouth and finally break the rules to him.

“I… I got to Yale,” you say, on your toes. The joy and relief you felt this morning when you saw the email appear on your phone screen is daring to creep into the way you speak to Chenle right now, but you’re keeping it in. Not letting yourself scream and shout the accomplishment from the rooftops, you look at the boy, not a change appearing on his face at hearing your announcement. “I got into their business program,” you add anxiously, waiting for him to say something– anything– to your news.

As your friend, he’s supposed to be happy for you, isn’t he? He’s supposed to hug you now and squeeze you and tell you how you’ve done a good job and that he’s proud of you and that he’s cheering you on in your dream. None of it comes, though, as he only hums and nods at your sentences, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at you when you oh so excitedly talk to him about your life goals.

Something inside of you breaks just the tiniest bit, your mood falling as you anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you not gonna say anything?” you demand, halting your movements through his raven locks, averting your touch and looking at him curiously.

You watch him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at you with an empty look, licking his lips before humming again and asking you in a tone of voice that barely meets interest or excitement. “So you’re gonna be a businesswomen like your mum when you get your degree?” he asks, nodding to himself.

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat. You’re a little confused at his weird stance towards the topic, but you battle out a tight-lipped smile. “I’m hoping for it.”

He hums again, the noise seemingly enough for him to consider it a valid conversation holder, a deadpan: “Good,” leaving his lips after a second, making you furrow your brows in confusion and utter disappointment. This is not the way you imagined the conversation to go– this is not how you wanted it to go at all.

Heaving out a sigh, you tug your arm to yourself, contemplating on speaking up– knowing you’re just gonna make everything worse if you do– but doing so anyway. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I mean, what else is there to say?”

Looking at him in disbelief, your face scrunching up in various different emotions, all mixing into one– disappointment being the dominant feel, you think, you scoff at him. This is not Zhong Chenle as you know him, and sure, he hasn’t been the most overly-excited, cheerful individual these past few months, but you still think you deserve at least a bit of praise for the achievement of getting into one of the hardest universities to get to in the world, no?

“I don’t know, you could… congratulate me, I guess…? Tell me I did a good job, I dunno… would be nice,” you mutter, snickering once more to prove your irritation with the man.

“Oh,” he says, looking genuinely surprised, taken-aback, even, “well, congrats on the legacy admission, I guess,” he says, nonchalant, as if his words aren’t a dagger to your heart each second that passes, your blood pressure rising as the reality downs on you that he’s being serious and that this is not a sick joke.

“The legacy admission?” you repeat, eyes big and shocked, your whole body moving an inch away from him on the bed without you realizing.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, not a bit caring about breaking you from the inside, the humiliation slowly creeping from the tips of your fingertips to the depths of your soul.

“So you’re saying I went through the whole admission process and put in so much effort only for you to say that I got in because of stupid legacy?” you chirp, gazing at him with sharp eyes, blood boiling from the impact of his words. “What legacy are you even talking about?”

“Don’t act like you’re not a nepo baby,” he snickers, rolling his eyes.

Gasping at his words, baffled at the unexpected reaction, you stand up on the bed and stare at him with sharp eyes. At a loss for words, you stutter a little when you speak up again and utter out the next words, hoping to hit him where it hurts. “Like you’re not?”

“Never said I’m not,” he shrugs, “don’t have a problem with admitting I am.”

“So you’re saying I only got to university because of my parents,” you get out, glossy eyes scanning his peaceful figure, “so you’re saying I’m not smart enough to get into Yale?”

“That’s not what I said–”

“But you implied.”

“You only hear what you want to hear,” Chenle sighs, as if he was tired of your antics, which only makes you more furious at the whole interaction.

“No, Chenle–” you stutter, his name rolling off your tongue as if it was meant to stop him with hurting you even more for discrediting your efforts, yet, you can’t find any more words to say to him as you stare at this limb body laying on the soft mattress of his king sized bed, shaking your head in disbelief.

Standing up from the bed and scattering around the room for your clothes, ignoring the way putting them on in front of him makes you feel like you’ve been stripped away from all your dignity, you hurriedly come to the door of his bedroom, almost forgetting your phone that you gather on your way out from the messy desk in the right corner of the room.

“Where are you going?” he asks monotonously, watching you move through the place.

“Home,” you bark out, running your hand through your hair as you walk back to the door, ignoring the hot tears pricking your eyes at the feeling of your whole entire world collapsing in on you when he mourns from the bed.

“Don’t be mad, it’s not like I said anything bad…”

“Goodnight,” you snap, not bothering to look back at him as you escape his house in the middle of the night, running through the street to your house much earlier than you anticipated, wiping at your cheeks with angry palms.

This is the first time he disappointed you, and you can’t tell if that felt worse, or if it was the excitement slowly and painfully stripping off your bones, making you feel like you’re running around without your flesh, completely see-through for everyone around.

June 27, 2020 – IFC Mall, Shanghai, 4:33 PM

“Do you think this makes my ass look extra hot?” Yizhuo asks, gaze shifting from you to Chenle to Renjun, the four of you currently in one of the designer shops at the mall. Leaning on the wall, arms crossed on your chest and chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug, not a word escaping your mouth.

“I’m your cousin, I’m not looking at your ass like that,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sighing as he takes a seat on one of the expensive looking sofas situated in the changing room, resting his head against the neck rest and closing his eyes in what seems to be tiredness or annoyance– either of, or both mixed in, equal parts.

“Oh come on, I need to know!”

“It does look super hot, Yizhuo, now can you–”

“So you are staring at my butt!” Yizhuo excitedly yelps, pointing a sharp finger towards Renjun, a bright grin settling onto her lips when the accused boy stutters, cheeks reddening at her comment.

“You literally asked us to, for fuck’s sake!”

“You could’ve refused, just like Chenle did,” she shrugs, smiling to herself in victory. If anyone was listening to your conversation right now, they would surely have a lot of questions you wouldn’t be able to respond to. Hell, even you’re confused half of the time you hang out with Ning Yizhuo– what the hell is going on in her head?

“He’s your family, of course he refused,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head as he drags a hand through his hair in despair.

“Whatever you say, Renjunie,” she chirps, closing the curtain behind her and changing back into the pants she wore when she got to the store in one swift motion, leaving the boy puzzled with her next words as she walks up to the counter, “I’m only buying those because you think I look super hot in them, just so you know.”

Paying for her things and escaping the store, the rest of you tagging along, you notice the boy aimlessly trying to forget about the whole situation, and his prayers were listened to, after all, since Yizhuo seems to drop the topic after teasing him so much, turning to you instead. Walking alongside with you, leaving the two boys a few steps ahead, she nudges you with her elbow, raising up her brow in question.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t even tried anything on,” she notes, “and we both know you’ve been eyeing that new LV collection, so there must be something bothering you.”

Sighing, hating that the girl knows you so well– that, or you’re being awfully obvious– you roll your eyes in annoyance and try to shrug the topic off. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s obviously a lie. Is it something with Chenle? You two are usually all over each other, so–”

“It’s not about Chenle,” you snap, cutting the poor girl off, “so drop it.”

“Did he say something stupid? I know my cousin, come on. I can slap some sense into him, sweetheart, just let me know–”

“Please let it be,” you insist, tone of voice almost a little too sharp for your own liking, but it seemingly does its job as your friend only shrugs and takes a sip out of the coffee you all bought when getting to the mall, catching up to the men a few steps in front of you, talking about basketball.

“Well, if you need to talk to anyone about it, you know where to find me,” she says, and joins the discourse with her cousin and the boy she’s been teasing for whatever reason for the last few weeks instead, leaving you to trail behind them like a lost puppy, deep in your thoughts.

It’s been a few weeks since you last talked to Chenle. He tried reaching out to you a few times, sending you texts to ask what you’re doing that day to see if you wanna hang out. It seemed that at first, he didn’t really understand that he upset you. After you continued to ignore him even on graduation day, only greeting him and sparing him a few words, he seemed to get the memo as he let you deal with your emotions by yourself instead. You were never given an apology– and truthfully, knowing Chenle, you didn’t even expect to get one in the first place. But still, it’s been bugging you and you couldn’t get his words out of your brain, because you know you can’t do anything about them– if this is the image he has of you, the opinion he created, you don’t think you can talk it out with him in the first place.

“Everything okay back there?” Chenle asks, looking behind at you. His eyes are big and honest, and you find yourself nodding to his caring question. Sparing him a word seems like too much effort right now, and so when he offers you a tight-lipped smile, you don’t have enough energy to reciprocate it.

“Princess Yizhuo here has sore feet, so we are calling it a day. You wanted anything from the mall? I can stay behind with you and go get it,” he continues, his words jabbing into you only reminding you more of the days you spent ignoring him. Realistically, he should be mad at you for it– maybe you even wanted that to happen so he would ignore you instead, giving you the silent treatment, but this is your childhood friend Zhong Chenle we’re talking about. He talks too much in situations where he should shut up instead, and that’s exactly what’s happening in this very moment as well.

“I’m good,” you note, shrugging as you throw the empty coffee cup into one of the bins on your way, your small group now escaping the mall and getting to the parking lot.

Walking towards Chenle’s Zenvo TS1 parked in the corner of the parking lot, you hear the chatter of the group resonating in your ears, not really engaging in the conversation yourself, but choosing to listen to feel included anyway. It’s not their fault that you’re not in the mood, and frankly, you’re glad they even invited you to the outing in the first place. Everything’s better than being left out in your books, even if it means forcing yourself into social interaction.

“My driver should be here any minute,” Yizhuo smiles, waving at Renjun currently getting into his Porsche Cayenne that he got after you all arrived from his birthday trip to Korea. Watching the boy drive off– while listening to Chenle bitching about his driving (he does have a point though, the poor boy almost crashed into a pole on his way out) – you feel a nudge to your elbow, making you turn to your friend.

“Wanna get back with me, neighbor?” he asks, eyebrows raised in question.

In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before answering. But now, you ponder on the question for a bit– you got to the mall with Yizhuo, having hanged out with her at her place before– but now that she’s getting a drive home, there was no use in you tagging along with her, since you live quite far from her house. Getting a drive home from Chenle is the most logical solution, after all, and that’s why you find yourself nodding.

Jumping to the passenger’s seat, waving at Yizhuo still waiting for her driver to get there– it should take only about 5 more minutes, with the speed her driver can get to when called– you silently gaze out of the window on your way back, not sparing the boy next to you a glance. He seems to not mind, carefully taking turns and waiting at the stop signs and red lights on his way to your neighborhood, humming along under his breath to the songs on the radio instead to fill the silence. You spend the ride chewing on your cheek, nerves eating you up from inside just at the sheer fact of being in his close proximity again, yet still being so painfully hurt at the feelings he expressed the last time you hung out one-on-one.

His car smoothly gets to the parts of the town that feel more rich– houses growing bigger in size, the gates taller in the sky and the lawns mowed more carefully, with more fancy bushes in the yards and pure-blood dogs running around in front of the gates. After a few minutes, your neighborhood appears in front of your eyes, his car driving past your house and into the Zhong property instead, making you furrow your brows in confusion and annoyance.

“You could’ve just stopped in front of my house so I could get out, you know,” you hum, sighing when he turns the engine off.

“I was thinking we could hang out over at ours for a sec,” he shrugs, turning his face to you with a hopeful glint in his eye, which you dismiss with an annoyed huff and a roll of your eyes, reaching towards the door handle to get out and walk over to your house instead.

“Come on, Y/N,” he calls for you, “are you still mad?”

“No,” you snicker, shrugging as you move towards the front gates, his figure quickly catching up to you as he grabs your wrist, halting you in your movements.

“I’m sorry. Let me make it out to you?” he mumbles, looking at you with eyes big and deep like honey, and suddenly, you’re a putty under his touch– just like always, you cave in– as you sigh, following him inside. You don’t miss the victorious pep in his step as he leads you inside, his hand still in contact with your arm, only letting go when you get to his room and he leads you to sit on his bed.

“Wanna play something?” he asks, thrusting a PS5 controller into your hands, not really leaving you much room for disapproval. Grunting and rolling your eyes at him, you watch as he opens up It takes two, your characters running around the split screen trying to figure out the way around.

The silence between the two of you is cruciating, suffocating, even, as neither of you have enough courage to open up the topic again. Tugging at your bottom lip, biting off the dry skin up to the point it bleeds, you sigh and turn to the boy again, putting the controller down. “Is this your way of making it up to me?” you ask.

Cocking his head to you, he shrugs. “I mean, I had a different idea, but that’s up for a discussion…” he mutters, the suggestion of his words making you roll your eyes at him, in disbelief of the fact that he still has the audacity to tease when he knows you’re clearly upset with him.

“Okay, I’m… really sorry, okay?” he says when he registers your mood, sighing to himself and running a hand through his hair. “I kinda fucked up, and I realise that. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re stupid, or anything– come on, I always cheated off you on exams, after all– so, I just- it came off wrong, is what I’m tryna say,” he concludes, looking at you hopefully, his face seemingly in tune with the words coming out of his mouth.

Humming, you shrug, not really knowing what to say. The apology settles a little in you, noting that at least he acknowledged that he fucked up, and so you pick up the controller again and avert your gaze from him. Seeing as his character refuses to move, you look at him from the corner of your eye, raising your brows in question.

“So you forgive me?” he asks, licking his lips in nerves– the action making your eyes travel down to the plump rosiness, involuntarily following his action. His glistening mouth has your gaze wandering around his body, eyes focusing on things you’ve been purposefully ignoring the whole day– the way his forearms show off in his short-sleeved shirt, the way his hair is parted in a way that shows his forehead in the most strangely attractive ways, and also the ever-so casual demeanor of the male. Chuckling to yourself, you shrug, taunting him.

“I dunno,” you mumble, “how can you make it up to me?”

And again, Chenle gets the hint– he’s not stupid, after all.

Slowly lounging himself towards you, making you drop the controller to his sheets, you close your eyes in expectancy of his touch, already so used to the rhythm of his lips against yours. His hand holds your jaw in place, firm kisses pressed to your yearning mouth, you try to remember the way his touch feels– just in case you have to give it up soon again– a selfish action of your body as you thread your fingers through his hair.

Lips ghosting over yours, he snickers against them as he speaks. “You taste of blood,” he notes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking matters into your own hands as you lock yourself to him again, pressing shaky, hurried kisses to his lips.

He finds a better place to attach them to, though, as he gently pushes you towards his mattress into a lying position, traveling towards your jaw and your neck. His touch never stays long enough to leave a mark– at least not in places visible for everyone to see, saving you a lot of explaining to your parents and your friends– but the kisses still leave you breathless and yearning for more, hands traveling down his back and humming in pleasure.

“Missed this,” he speaks against your skin, breathless, “so much.”

“Missed my body or me?” you ask, a hint of bitterness on your tongue.

“A bit of both,” he smirks, gently sucking on the skin of your collarbone, leaving you to squirm under the feathery touch. Hands traveling up under your shirt, his fingers trailing across your belly and the curve of your hip, you’re left shivering under the contrast of the heated atmosphere and his stone-cold hands, giggling when he presses an unusually sweet kiss to your cheek in between the more risky ones.

“And which one did you miss more?” you tease, locking eyes with him as he hovers over your body, plopped up by an arm on either side of your head.

His eyes glimmer as he stares you down, cocking his head to the side. “I miss when you didn’t talk,” he says, leaning down again and taking your breath away with a kiss, a displeased grunt meeting his lips as you disapprove of his snarky comment.

In the sheer second where you two break away for air, his hands undress your top, leaving you under him just in your underwear, a position you two have found yourselves in a number of times before. Still, it leaves you shy away under his hungry eyes, only relaxing again when his raven locks tickle the underside of your jaw, lips attaching to every inch of your now exposed body, not afraid of bruising the skin you always keep covered, out of everyone’s eyes. Sometimes, you yearn for him to plant a lovebite to your jaw, to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, wanting to show them off to everyone and claim the boy as yours– you know you don’t have that power, though, when Zhong Chenle will never be yours and the bruises of desire are always hidden away from everyone, like a dirty little secret; much like what you two have going on in the first place anyway.

“You know,” he mutters against your skin, in between the kisses that have now grown lazier, “I was starting to get a little crazy when you ignored me. That was a first,” he says.

Snickering, hands once again finding their place in his locks, you shrug. “Was the first time you deserved it.”

“Does my opinion really matter to you that much?” he asks, chuckling as he presses another kiss to your skin, to a place a few inches below your collarbone.

“We’ve been friends forever,” you say, “‘course it does.”

“Well, then you should’ve known that as your friend,” he huffs, lips pressed against your skin, “‘m not looking down on you.”

Humming, you let him work his magic as his lazy kisses inch closer to the fabric of your bra, his other hand playing with the fabric of it, twirling the little bow in between your breasts in his fingers as he leans on one of his plopped-up hands, looking at you from the side.

“Guess I was just more curious about what you wanted to do after school, y’know,” you say, the conversation flowing despite his hands all over you, “before you called me a nepo baby, of course.”

He chuckles at your remark, rolling his eyes at you as his finger trails up your side, your skin growing goosebumps under his touch. “Dunno yet. Why do you care?”

“Wanted to see how far we’re gonna be,” you say, the moment suddenly growing more intimate. The relationship you two have was never inclusive– you two had sex sometimes, sure, but you never once told each other this was more than that. You two were just mere fuck buddies, childhood friends that found sexual attraction in each other somewhere along the way, and while that was enough for you for a while, you found yourself growing anxious of the fact that he was never going to be fully yours. And with the growing anxiety– the smallest remainder of your worries that overtake you in the middle of the night sometimes– your throat closes up on itself when you choke out the next words. “Wanted to see how much time we have left together.”

His hand settles on your hip, his eyes bearing into yours with a newly found heaviness in them. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips in nerves before speaking up. “Well, I’ll always be your neighbor, so you can find me when you come back. Unless we move, y’know…” he jokes, an airy laugh coming out his lungs that doesn’t meet the expected intention of easing the situation.

You chuckle– but there’s not a hint of lightheartedness in the gesture, quite the opposite, really– as you avert your gaze from him, your head lollying to the side when you try to hide your slowly, but surely growing red eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

The hand on your hip squeezes the skin under it, his figure now fully hovering over you again, eyes desperately wanting to meet yours. A finger gently pressed to your chin makes you turn your head back forward, his worried gaze bearing into you, and for a moment, you two only stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in time.

And again, Zhong Chenle isn’t stupid.

But for a second, he acts like he is.

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles. “You’re scaring me.”

And when you don’t give him an answer, but instead chew on the inside of your cheek– another place to bleed after you bite down too hard from the nerves crushing you from the inside– he seems to finally get the hint, an airy laugh full of disbelief meeting your ears. Having figured it out, still, he speaks it into existence– as if he needed a confirmation; 8 words tormentingly escaping from between his swollen lips.

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

Sniffling, you shut your eyes close at the question, your silence a clear answer to your childhood friend as he peels himself off you, the feeling of cold air on your exposed skin like a painful slap to reality. You stay like that for some time, mentally counting seconds, each hammer of your heart in your chest like a threat to your existence. Finally, the silence is broken by a determined, yet a little weak sentence coming out of Chenle’s mouth.

“I think you have to leave.”

Numb, you follow the orders.

July 25, 2020 – Ning Yizhuo’s room, Shanghai, 6:11 PM

“So I was right all along?” Yizhuo snickers, eating from the bowl of almonds she has settled in the free space between her lap and her crossed legs, staring at you with the hydrating sheet mask on her face. You heave out a sigh at her comment, rolling your eyes as you fall back into her soft mattress, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s all you got from this conversation?”

“Almost,” she mumbles, but nudges you with her foot right after, “I’m joking. I was listening, I’m just… shocked that I was actually right and that you were fucking my cousin all along.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not happening anymore, so you don’t have to be disturbed,” you grunt, wondering why you actually told the girl in the first place, regretting the decision perhaps the most right now. Yes, she did bug you for the last few weeks about the reasoning behind your attitude, and the fact that you refused all the invitations to hang out with your friends in fear of seeing Chenle were starting to get a bit suspicious, so you figured you can’t hide it anymore and that Yizhuo was bound to find out either way sooner or later. And still, you think you needed a bit of girl advice too.

“‘m not disturbed,” she mumbles, voice suddenly considerate, “I just- the whole situation is all kinds of weird and fucked up right now.”

“Tell me about it,” you chuckle, the bitter taste on your tongue never leaving despite trying to drown your sorrow down in sweets. “I fucked it up, Yizhuo.”

“Now, that’s just not true,” she sighs, putting the bowl of almonds to her coffee table and laying next to you, reaching for your hand and swinging it around in failed acts of encouragement and affection. “It’s not your fault he freaked out and made it weird.”

“I made it weird!” you mourn, breaking away from her grasp and dragging your hands through your hair in frustration, the feelings bundling in your stomach making you feel like acid is just bound to shoot out of the crevices of your insides, throwing up from the stress and despair. “I’m moving across the world the next month and I won’t see any of you for a long time, since Jun is moving to Korea and you’re gonna work in your parent’s company as well as going to uni here, and instead of spending the last moments of summer break together, I fucked it up and made everything weird and awkward just because I had to fall in love with my childhood best friend. While we’d been fucking. Isn’t that fucking great?” you huff, closing your eyes shut with the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at your own words falling from between your lips.

“We are spending time together right now, though,” Yizhuo tries to cheer you up, her pout heard in her tone.

“There are millions of different ways you’d love to spend your time with me instead of moping because of your cousin,” you note, sighing, “and I don’t even fucking know what he’s gonna do after summer break, and now, I won’t get to know.”

Yizhuo grows quiet next to you, suggesting the thickening atmosphere. Turning on your side to see your friend with her eyes glued to your figure, you chew on the inside of your cheek. She sighs, preparing herself for the mental tangent she’s gonna bring you on, and reaches over to smooth down your messy hair.

“You know, Chenle never really liked… this life,” she says, shrugging, “he hates shopping, he hates hearing about investing, he hated traveling so much when you and your family didn’t tag along… At every family reunion, he just hid away in his room and never got out, because he found the whole situation snobby and fake and all those adjectives I’ve never really thought about calling my own relatives. He… he…” she licks her lips, trying to come up with the right words to say, “he sees the world around us with different eyes, and I don’t think he’s happy with it. So don’t- don’t be mad at him for not really… going anywhere with it, okay?”

Furrowing your brows at her, you shake your head in confusion. This is perhaps the first time you really realized Chenle’s view on things– it’s not like you haven’t heard his annoyed rants about all the prestige and over-the-top lifestyle you all have, but that’s all you thought it was. Annoyance– because at the end of the day, your life is comfortable. You wouldn’t want it any other way. If money moves the world around, you were the one walking through every hallway, all opportunities opened up in front of your eyes; and you don’t think you’d enjoy your life more if you had a bit less money. Chenle, on the other hand, seems to be quite the opposite. His joy is not determined by money, and for the first time in your life, it seems like you’re getting what he’s been talking about your whole life, the words you heard but never truly listened to. It was right in front of you the whole time, but you never saw it, and now that your eyes have been opened, you find it hard to deal with the revelation.

“But what is he going to do?” you gurgle out, confused.

“I don’t think he knows either,” Yizhuo shrugs, “he’s… figuring out things, I suppose.”

Chuckling, you shut your eyes in despair, thinking for a bit, but still failing to grasp the situation. “I don’t get it. He- he could have everything, but he’s just… throwing everything away? He could move across the world, he could start his own company, he could buy a house or work or study, but he just won’t,” you ramble, “I don’t get it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Yizhuo shrugs, “but he sees it a different way.”

Laying flat on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling, your friend clears her throat and awkwardly shuffles around her sheets. “And at the end of the day, even though you’ve been friends for forever, I think you’re just in love with the version of him that you’ve created in your head. The version that you’re trying, but cannot fix,” she notes, pausing for a moment before proceeding, “the only person you can fix is yourself.”

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right. Maybe you fell in love with the Chenle in his sports car, Chenle in the golf cart with his designer clothes on, Chenle on the cruise ship sipping on expensive alcohol. Maybe you fell in love with the version that has the whole world in the palm of his hand, the version of him that goes to Yale with you and rents out a luxurious apartment in the middle of the city, kissing you behind the tall windows, watching over the busy streets– the version in your dreams, the version you wanted to achieve.

But what about the version of him that walked you to your house after tennis class? What about the version of him that cuddled you in his sheets, the version of him that fell asleep soundly when you played with his hair, cradled your fingers through his scalp? What about the version of him that scared you in the dark, because he knew you get creeped out too easily, the version of him that ate cheap sausage with you in Japan, the version of him that studied with you and brought you to your bed when you fell asleep at the table? What about the version of him that cried to Disney movies with you, the version of him that danced with you to the tunes of One Direction in your room when you were sixteen, the version of him that threw rocks on your window in the moonlight the night you turned seventeen, wanting to be the first one to wish you happy birthday before slipping inside of your room in the middle of the night, only to fall asleep seconds later, huddling your sheets?

Did you make that up? Was that not him in the first place?

And maybe, there is a discrepancy between the dream you’ve made up in your head with him, the idea of you two staying together, trying to fix the view he has on the world you two live in, but at the end of the day, none of it was a lie.

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right; you should change the way you view things to match Chenle’s better, because at the end of the day, maybe you’re the one too blinded by the gold and silver around your neck to see the real issue here.

August 2, 2020 – Lehai Villas, Baicheng, China, 10:15 PM

When you finally see Zhong Chenle after the night he kicked you out of his bedroom, both of you are a mess.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense. Your dress is neat, the jewelry on your neck was carefully picked out days before, the heels enveloping your feet are one of the most comfortable ones for you to walk in, since you prepared yourself for being on your feet the whole evening. Your makeup is fixed on your face, earrings dangling off your ears and your purse matches the outfit perfectly; your hair in a fancy updo that you even drove to a hairdresser for, all so that you could look flawless for another one of your parent’s gatherings. Their business partner’s son is turning 21, and while it doesn’t look like that big of a deal, they are celebrating the fact that Mark Lee is now one of the shareholders of their company– and in your world, this is the most moving moment of the child’s life.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense– you keep looking around, restless, not really paying attention to anything anyone is saying. Aimlessly humming and picking at the skin of your cuticles, you try hard to both catch a glance of your friend, and to also avoid him at all costs. The reality that Zhong Chenle is a mess too hits you only when you finally see him– his tie loose on his neck, a grunt escaping his throat that you can hear from all the way to where you are, his walking a little wobbly and his hair messy as he runs his hand through the sprayed-down locks, his composure disheveled and so obviously out of the place.

And you want to stay away, you really do– to let him deal with his own things by himself, to pretend you weren’t cautiously looking for him all evening– but when he picks up another glass of alcohol from one of the tables and downs it in one go, cheeks getting rosier by the minute, you wonder how far you can let him go until he gets into trouble with his parents; and suddenly, you’re on your feet, just like you expected, dragging your figure closer to the one you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough?” you mumble when you appear behind him, his shoulders slouching at the tone of your voice. When he looks around and catches your eyes, he snickers to himself, shrugging, before he makes a face full of disgust at your remark.

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” he says, “Mark Lee’s a big man now, taking all the responsibility for a company that’s so great, and he loves the job so much,” he continues, over-exaggerating every word, “and we’re here to celebrate his birthday! Have you… seen the motherfucker anywhere, by the way? Would wanna congratulate him on… the thing…” he trails off, dramatically scratching his head as he speaks the last words.

“Chenle–”

“Right! We are celebrating a guy we don’t even know, or seen the whole evening, but that’s so great, because at least we have all this alcohol–”

“Okay, you’re getting out of here,” you snap, shaking your head at his antics and digging your nails into his forearm, dragging the boy out of the crowded place before he throws a tantrum. With how his voice was getting louder and louder, a few figures turned to watch your exchange, and you can’t imagine the turmoil this will take on him once his parents find out– it’s better to get him out of there before he messes up even more badly.

His feet stumbling on the stairs outside, he mutters something under his breath as you drag his half-limp, half-stubborn body through the enormous land. The gardens are full of fairy lights and adults talking to each other in hushed whispers, laughter erupting out of their put-together figures every now and then, and you take some time before you finally manage to find a silent corner in one of the carefully mowed gardens, Chenle’s complains silencing after a while, admitting his fate.

Carelessly throwing his body towards one of the benches, the lighting dim in the corner, you watch as he takes a seat and looks at you with defeated eyes, the emptiness behind his gaze breaking you on so many levels you didn’t even think you could master; Zhong Chenle is a mess– has been a mess for a while now, and you didn’t notice– you didn’t do anything about it until now.

“What happened to you?!” you yelp out, voice betraying you somewhere towards the end of the sentence, sounding more desperate than you intended. Eyes scanning over his slouching body, you notice him playing with his fingers in his lap, an action of calming himself down that he’s picked up after you slapped his hands every time he tried to bite on his nails growing up, and you take a few steps around the place, running your fingers through your carefully styled hair.

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” Chenle grunts, rolling his eyes at your composure.

“No, Chenle, because I don’t get it,” you shake your head, looking him dead in the sparkless eyes, “I do not get it.”

When he offers you no explanation, rather just gazing your whole body up and down, eyes half-lidded, you presume he’s a bit out of it– the alcohol truly hitting his system now, making you result in a little tangent of yourself, because you presume everything’s better than his parent’s scolding, and maybe he just needs someone to wake him back to reality. “What happened, Chenle? What the actual fuck is going on lately? You don’t speak to anyone about it, you don’t tell me, out of all people–” a snicker leaves his lips to this, making you huff in frustration, “you don’t tell anyone how you’re feeling, and it’s eating you up from the inside, and believe me when I say, Chenle, it’s pretty damn heartbreaking to watch.”

Looking at him, you’re offered nothing but silence. His cheeks are rosy and puffed up from the alcohol, his frame is small– opposed to the power stance he usually takes– and you don’t think you’re getting a conversation from him any time soon. Ready to give up, you shake your head at him and scoff. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to talk to me, since you have an issue with the fact that I care about you more than I should,” you snap, agreeing to be petty with him, if this was how he was gonna play.

“I don’t talk to any of you, because you wouldn’t understand,” he says, voice almost a bit annoyed, tongue dipped in bitterness.

“We grew up together, Chenle. Our lives are pretty much the same, why the fuck would you think that I, out of all people, wouldn’t understand?”

“See, that’s the thing,” Chenle catches you off guard, charming in with an argument barely before you are able to finish the sentence, “our lives are pretty much the same, yet you love it. You fucking love it, all of you do– you love waking up in your little fancy bedrooms, doing great at school because if you don’t, your parents are going to threaten you with disowning you– and what else do you have if not your parents wealth that you coincidentally, also despise at the same time? You go shopping to your favorite mall with your equally wealthy friends, because you’re not allowed to befriend people that are lower class– that would just look fucking embarrassing in front of your parents’ contacts, wouldn’t it? You go to charity events and birthday celebrations of a guy you’ve never seen in your whole life before, just because someone told you to– and don’t you dare tell them you won’t go, because how the fuck are they gonna look all pretty in front of their business partners if their only son doesn’t attend a celebration of someone inheriting a share from their parents’ company– a thing you’re supposed to do as soon as you turn 20, if you don’t attend university they picked out for you instead. You go on fancy holidays and take pictures in front of all the attractions, and it doesn’t even feel special anymore, because you do this every month– and the only time you ever felt alive was when you were drunk and making out with someone that you shouldn’t even think about in that way in the first place, because it’s your parents’ friends’ daughter, and at the end of the day, they would just love the fact that we were together, because that could strengthen the business bond they have– the only reason why they’re friends in the first place, and I’m so fed up, I hate it, I despise it–” he stops to take a breath, his eyes getting glossy,

and suddenly, you’re helpless, you’re falling apart– because the issue is so much bigger than you anticipated and you don’t know how to do anything about it.

“And I don’t fucking feel real, Y/N, I don’t, and I don’t think I ever have, because I just wake up in the mornings and then somewhere along the way, I realise I’m alive and I laugh, because how could all of this be real? How could the money be real? How could anything be real, and– and it’s so confusing, because I should be grateful, but I’m not, because I can’t even fully grasp it,” he breathes, tears now streaking down his cheeks.

It feels like the whole world stopped for a moment; it feels like you are in a movie and someone pressed pause. You stare at him, you blink, and you pray for something to send you strength to deal with this, to tell you what to do or how to comfort him– because this must have felt so alone, and you can’t stand the image of Chenle ever being lonely.

Opening your mouth and closing it, you gasp for air. No words feel suitable for this kind of conversation, and so you just chime towards him– despite all your best assumptions– and hold him. Because at the end of the day, what helps more to ground someone back to earth than human touch?

Pads of your thumbs wipe at the teardrops strolling down his cheeks, every contact with the salty liquid hurting you, cutting through your skin like razor blades– because Chenle never cries, he never feels like something is worth indulging in enough to bring him to tears– and when he catches his trembling bottom lip in his teeth, you break; pulling him towards you and threading your fingers through his hair, the action once lullying him to sleep now used like a broken mantra– please be okay, please relax, please let me hold you until you’re glued back together again.

“I dunno what to do,” he shrugs, his head resting on your stomach, voice burrowing itself into the fabric of your expensive dress, “dunno where to go. ‘Cause Jun’s leaving, and Yizhuo’s gonna be busy with everything, and– and you’re moving across the fucking ocean, and I’m just– I turned everything down, because–” he says, voice breaking, and you shush him with a pat on his back, touch growing more affectionate.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I got you,” you say; words he once told you at the golf cart, looking after you, or in the hotel room back in Japan when you were 6 and falling asleep, still scared of ghosts appearing in your bedroom– and you believed them, you always did, because Chenle was always there when you needed him– so you only pray he finds comfort in the sincere phrases, because what more is there to offer him?

His breathing grows steadier as you continue to play with his messy hair, his hands gently allowing themselves to wrap around your thighs, your standing figure shelved between his legs, and he laughs to himself, the whole situation kind of ironic to him now. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. ‘m kinda numb, you know, so it doesn’t even really hurt in the first place,” he says, and you wish you found the same humor in it than he did– or at least the bitter sense of soothing yourself with irony– but you can’t. Looking down at his body, latched to you like a lifeline, you wonder how you could ever leave him there alone, to deal with the burden by himself. How could you ever move so far away from him?

“My parents wanted me to go with you,” he starts, the sentence sparking up something inside of you, but he doesn’t pull away and meet your eyes when he continues, foreshadowing a sad ending to your hope, “they said I should study business at Yale as well, that it’s a great opportunity.”

You don’t reply to him, choosing not to push him. After a sigh, he continues. “And I didn’t get in, because, naturally, I was too stupid for it in the first place– no, I was–” he says when you gently slap the back of his head at the comment, “but then they paid the dean and suddenly I was allowed to go. Can you believe that?” he snickers bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bad mouthed you for a thing I despised in myself, when you were the one that got in fair and square in the first place.”

“‘s okay,” you mumble, compassion dripping off your words.

“And I turned it down, ‘cause I hated the fact that they did that. I was okay with studying the fucking business program, even though I despised it, I was okay with moving across the world, because at least you’d be there, y’know, but I couldn’t bear the fact that they did that to get me in. I think I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, because they had to pay for me to get there, but– I don’t know…” he trails off, and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s okay to take opportunities that are presented to you, Lele,” you mumble, “I know you hate it, but you can’t change who you’re born to. The best you could do is to not waste all of this,” you say, trying to find a source of light in the deep abyss of his thoughts.

You try hard to solve the problem– to offer him a solution that could work, that could let him forget about the pain for at least a second– to wake him up from whatever deep thinking that got him into this mess. You try hard to solve the problem– but you don’t know how to deal with it. All you know is that you’re trying to pick up the patterns; you’d fit in his skin if you could, you’d crawl in and fix everything– but at the end of the day, as Yizhuo said, the only person you can fix is yourself.

“Bought,” he says, fixing your mistake, “opportunities that were bought for me. I couldn’t do it,” he says.

Huffing, indulging in a spare second of your own pain– a spare second of the despair eating you up from the insides, the helplessness you’ve been feeling ever since you were forcefully kicked out of Zhong Chenle’s life– and you didn’t even tell him you loved him in the first place before he got stuck in the fire of the woods; before you two started acting like it didn’t matter and always ended up in feuds– you mumble a comment, voice barely louder than a whisper, but he can hear it because of the closeness of your bodies in the few stray raindrops that come over you two once the clock strikes midnight.

“We could’ve lived together, you and me,” you say, “us against the whole world,” you comment– a childlike yearning spilling out of your lips, “we could’ve gone to Yale together and you’d figure something out along the way. Maybe– maybe you’d find a purpose if you moved, we could–”

“Y/N,” he shushes you, uttering out your name, finally breaking away from you as he looks up and gazes into the swimming pools of your eyes, shaking his head with a faint smile, “‘s okay. It wouldn’t have fixed anything anyway, it– it wouldn’t have helped.”

“But–”

“You can move, Y/N, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re taking yourself with you.”

August 20, 2020 – the backyard of your childhood house, Shanghai, 11:11 PM

You were never really that good at science– sure, your parents demanded you get good grades in every subject and your private school put quite the pressure on your education, but even though you always managed to pull satisfactory marks in exams, your understanding of the logistics sometimes lacked; you were much better at humanities or business-related courses, hearing enough at family dinners to find out your way through the lectures and apply the facts into examples from real life.

So, if anyone asked you how many stars there were in the universe, you wouldn’t be too confident in your answer. You wouldn’t know how to apply the Milky Way as your model– since it was said that it has around 100 billion stars alone– and multiply the part by the amount of galaxies in the universe– approximately 2 trillion– to get a number somewhere close to 200 billion trillion, also called 200 sextillion.

You wouldn’t know how to do any of that, or how to even count this amount without a calculator, so you’d take a more liberal arts approach– literary, even– and say, that on August 20, 2020, at 11:11 sharp in your backyard, gazing on to the deep, dark sky and wishing for a star to fall so you could propose a selfish wish that could change everything, there’s still not more stars there than in Zhong Chenle’s eyes when your gazes meet after your friends leave for the evening, leaving you with your neighbor completely alone.

And it’s strange, seeing him like this– maybe because you didn’t even realize how used to the dull and emotionless Chenle you’ve been all this time– but it warms something inside of your heart as you take a hesitant step towards him, the first one out of the whole evening, and take a seat next to him in the corner of your terrace, sighing to yourself.

“You actually came,” you note, seeing as he turns to you and furrows his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Should I not have? I mean, by the text you sent me, it seemed like you wanted me here, but if I misread the situation, I can go…” he snickers, teasing you just the slightest as he nudges you to your side.

You hum, shaking your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “I just… I dunno.”

“Expected me to ignore you?”

“Kinda,” you admit, snickering.

“Damn,” he giggles, “that’s fair, though. Considering the previous events, and all.”

Rolling your eyes at his composure, finally getting used to the old Chenle– the one that teases you over the smallest things, the one who doesn’t let his emotions show in his face– you watch him as he takes a seat on one of the rattan sofas and you follow him, body slouching next to his, feeling his head gently rest on your shoulder in the mere moment of silence between your two figures.

“Wouldn’t let you leave without seeing you for the last time,” he says, voice quiet and vulnerable, “god knows when I’ll see you again.”

“Chenle–”

“Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” he snickers, already knowing where your words are going– you’re going to try to stop him, tell him you don’t want to think about it right now, on the last evening at your house for the near future.

“I’d rather not think about that, y’know,” you huff, frustrated. The anxieties of leaving everything behind are clenching on your insides right now, holding you back from moving freely and with enthusiasm, and you wonder– if you knew how this would feel all those months ago– if you knew how terrifying and painful the whole process could be, would you still apply to Yale? Would you still want to go?

“Okay,” he dotes, tone of voice casual, like it’s not a big deal.

“Okay? Just like that?” you snicker, surprised at how easily he gave the topic up.

“Yeah. Don’t wanna make you sadder.”

Sitting in silence, you realize there’s so many words you’d like to say to him. You’d like to tell him just how much you’re gonna miss him and how you regret ruining the last few months you two had together, and how you’re sorry your feelings scared him to the point where he felt like he had no one to confide in. You’d like to tell him how you built a future with him in your brain, carefully placed him into your reality, only for him to break away from your grasp and go his own way, and how much it hurts, but how you’re always going to support him in whatever he chooses, because you care for him more than your little heart could take. You’d like to tell him how you’re gonna call him every day to check up on him, how you’re gonna send letters and press a secret kiss to each sheet of expensive paper you’ll get downtown, wishing he could feel the essence with the growing distance between you two. You’d like to ask him to visit you often– he’s gonna have more time on his hands, and god knows money’s not the issue. You’d like to selfishly tell him you find it hard to deal with the distance, and how you wish he wouldn’t find somebody else while you’re gone, and how you so dearly hope that somewhere in there, your feelings are silently reciprocated, but hidden away in fear of everything falling apart once again.

But instead, you don’t say anything. You tend to wait for him to speak up first– he’s always had a problem with talking too much in the first place, after all.

And he does– you can still predict his next moves. You know him that well.

“I’m gonna miss you, though,” he sighs, catching you off guard by saying something from the list of your silenced words, “don’t think that I won’t. Or that the way I’ll miss you is different than the way you’re gonna miss me,” he speaks, tone of voice laced in honesty and sincerity, his words heavy with the essence of what he’s never going to say out loud– or so you think.

“In what way?”

“I’m not gonna miss you like a friend misses a friend,” he says, “and I don’t mean the sex,” he snickers, brightening the mood with his comment.

Rolling his eyes at him, you feel him lift his head up from your shoulder, forcing you to look at him and meet his starry eyes again– the damn starry eyes that always make you spill the truth, because god knows you cannot lie to him– and you find yourself scanning his features, the structure of his bones you fear you’re gonna forget when you’re away, so desperately wanting to lock your lips with his for one last time, because when you come back one day, you may not have the right or chance to do so anymore.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“You know why, Chenle.”

“Can you say it out loud?” he demands, and you shake your head– maybe it's best if the words are left unsaid. Doesn’t matter if they’re hanging in the air, for everyone to read.

“Why?”

“You know how I feel about you,” you snicker, “don’t make me say it out loud.”

Because even if you told him you loved him, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it all better, it wouldn’t make it all good– no matter how hard you wish that it would.

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing too fast again– and with that, he smiles, the gesture so soft and sudden, and there you are– you’ve got a caving heart in your open arms, and Chenle takes it, carelessly choking out the hushed confession, “I’m in love with you. If you don’t say it, I’m gonna, because… you deserve to know.”

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watch him, frozen in your place, for a while. Your eyes carefully scan every curve of his face– the curve of his lips, the curve of his cheeks, the hood of his eyes, his brows, the thousand stolen galaxies in his orbs and mouth glistening like honey, inviting you in. Snickering under your breath, you choose to not give in to the temptation.

“You’re only saying that because I’m leaving tomorrow,” you say, shaking your head.

“Maybe,” he agrees.

And you know that– you know that if you weren’t leaving, he wouldn’t tell you that he loves you. He wouldn’t allow himself to be this vulnerable, he wouldn’t tell you how he feels about you, because he had all this time– all those months and weeks spent with you in his bed, and you know his touches weren’t just shallow desire– and he never once said anything. He didn’t do anything about it, and now that there is nothing more to do about it, nothing that could change the trajectory of either of your lives, he chooses to speak it to the universe; because it doesn’t change anything, it can’t possibly do so– and so he doesn’t have to fear the consequences, he doesn’t have to fear the attachment that comes with such confession.

And for a minute, you think it’s selfish. You think it’s laughable, ironic, even, but you accept it.

His hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers with his when he launches you forward into him, arms gently enveloping your body when your head settles itself to the curve of his shoulder. You stay like this for a while, in his hold again, breathing in his scent and trying to remember it for weeks and months before you’re able to smell it again, letting out a nosy question out of your lips– and truly, you don’t know why you do so, when you know the answer to it already anyway. Maybe you just want to hear it again.

“So… you do have feelings for me too, after all?”

He stays quiet for a while, before he softly laughs into your hair. “Yeah,” he nods, “but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re leaving for Yale tomorrow, aren’t you?”

And he’s right– you are. Thinking for a while, feeling him place a shy peck to the crown of your head– the only kiss you two allow yourselves at this point of time– you come to the conclusion that even though you love him, care for him like you’ve never cared for another before, you wouldn’t change a thing about your plan– wouldn’t change the trajectory of your whole life, wouldn't stay in Shanghai, wouldn’t drop out of university, wouldn’t stop everything because of him, because in a way, you strangely have it all figured out.

And he doesn’t.

And you pray that one day, he’ll find the purpose in all the potential he holds in his hands.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct x reader #chenle x reader #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle oneshot #chenle fic #chenle imagine #chenle fanfic #chenle best friends to lovers #chenle au #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct angst

1K notes · View notes

medium-rare-bimbo · 10 months

Text

Teehee hopper punishing you

♡masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

Contains: spanking, mean! Hopper, daddy kink

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

"Who do you belong to?"

"S-Steve HarRINGTON-"

His hands tighten their grip on your hips arching them so your head is shoved into the pillows below you.

"You want to repeat that? Who" -thrust- "do" -thrust- "you" -thrust- "belong" -thrust- "to?"

"S-StEve-" you answer is cut off by a harsh slap to your ass, your skin prickles as the impact burns, a deep bruise would settle in its place the next morning reminding you of your idiotic behaviour.

It's not your fault that you're acting out like this, honestly. Hopper never let's you do anything >:(( you're his dirty little secret and you hate it (although you cant deny the thrill you get when sneaking around with him), the constant flirting with women yet you're barely allowed to talk to a boy :(( why can he flirt yet you cant?? Its not fair !!! You've hinted at becoming his and only his but he always reminds you that you already belong to him, that's not what you mean and he knows it. You want the entire world to know who you belong to !! Officer jim hopper !! You want to be able to hold his hand and kiss him in public :(( if he wasnt going to let you have you're fun you might aswell find it somewhere else, Why behave like a good girl when pretty boy Steve Harrington can give you all the public attention you could ever want??

Your plan had horribly backfired, you had not expected hopper to find you mid act in the back of Steve's car. Shame, embarrassment and regret washed over you as hopper made some half assed excuse to usher you into the police car instead of letting the boy (who had just had his cock inside you) drive you home.

The drive was quiet and you hadn't said a word to eachother since the car started, when you were pulled into his house you didnt try to stop him nor did you try to defuse the situation you've gotten yourself into.

Which is how you got here;

Hoppers thrusts got more brutal as you refused to answer him correctly, each thrust pushing you up the bed almost hitting your head on the headboard (which hoppers hand was holding as to not cause too much noise occasionally leaving to play with your body) you've never felt so full before and although steve has big nobody was as big as hopper, with fury fueling his movements he was able to hit spots you didnt know existed.

You could feel your orgasm build up as the abuse on your cunt refused to cease, your insides would be rubbed raw from the way he was playing with you however Hopper pulled out before your peak hit, removing any sort of stimulation from your aching pussy. You mewled in despair almost sobbing as you were stolen from that sweet release of pleasure

"Nonononononono please- I- i need to cum please let me cum I'm sorry- please! I didnt mean to- I- i just did it for attention he meant nothing i promise- daddy please I'll be good just let me cum-"

SMACK

"Oh so You'll be good now? AFTER you've been bad?-"

SMACK

"If you didnt prance around like a stupid slut you would get to cum wouldnt you?"

You nodded your head, tears leaking from your eyes and onto the pillow your face was previously shoved into. Whines left your swollen lips yet hopper payed no attention, preferring to watch your hole clench and unclench with desperation to be filled. His thumb came to rest on your opening pulling at the flesh to watch the slick spread.

"PleASE daddy please I'm so sorry- I should have never done it! jus' wanted you to pay attention to me! dont like hiding us- d- didn' think you'd care about it-"

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

you squealed into the pillow as his heavy hands rained down on your sensitive behind. Your face was hot and lips were sore from how your teeth caught on them when you cried, cheeks puffy and soaked with tears.

"Didnt think I cared about it?" He shoved himself back inside of you the burn of the sudden breach made you squirm but were quickly held still by the big man above you, a hand holding both of your hands against your back forcing it to arch, the other holding your head in the pillow as to muffle the sounds escaping you.

"Does this look like I dont care?" -A thrust matching each syllable he spoke- "do you think I'm okay with my girl whoring herself out to whatever man gives her attention?"

"Nu uh- i- I'm so sorry daddy jus' thought-"

A particularly hard thrust knocked the breath out of you cutting of your rambled apology.

"Thought what? That you could get away with being a slut?"

"NO no no no I didn't think tha'- th-thought that I wasn' your girl- thought you didn' wan' me to be"

Hoppers thrusts softened yet still had their strength as he took in your words he has told you countless of times that you belonged to him and him only. perhaps the hickeys, hip bruises, marks on your ass and limping wasnt enough for you? Or maybe you wanted eveyone to see it, the entirety of Hawkins watching the mean old man swoon for his pretty little girlfriend. He had always thought you knew that, always thought you were the one that didnt want to show affection in public.

You're sobs of gratification do not fall on deaf ears as you mutter out praises and thank yous, most of what you say is unintelligible too caught up in the pleasure he was finally giving you. Hoppers hand reached below you his middle and ring finger finding home on your clit, pinching and circling the poor nub as best he could giving the unpaused movements of his hips.

Moans and squeals fell out of you as you felt your orgasm build up again, a part of your brain wanted to scream with agony fearing the rejection and denial of release but that thought was swept over as hopper held your body closer to his. His chest touching your back with his head in the crook of your neck whispering praises that you couldnt hear, drowned out by the collision of your lower halves.

"Ah shit fuck- oh god baby cum for me come on- good girl- such a good girl for me being so well behaved- cum as much as you like there you go baby-"

"I love you daddy s'much- I love you- I love you- i love you pleeeaase-" before you had the chance to continue your love filled rambles your orgasm washed over with such force you collapsed on the bed, too focused on the feeling to continue to stay up, instead letting hopper hold you up by your hips.

"thaaat's it- well done c'mon get it all out for me-" he growled out almost reaching his end as your now damaged and sensitive pussy clenched around him. "Gonna cum in my girl- make sure it stains yo- shit- your insides make it- make it drip out of you-"

With a final harsh thrust hopper came inside you his hips stuttering as he pumped you full of his thick seed making sure to finally claim you, panting above you to catch his breathe when the pleasure died down. His vision cleared to see you in a spaced out haze, barely awake and too fucked out to care. Carefully he pulled out of you rubbing soothing circles on your hips as he began to free himself of your tightness, you whimpered in protest desperate to keep him inside you aswell as the warmth he gave you. You felt every vein and ridge of his cock leave your pussy giving you a cum filled hole in place. some of it leaked out of you and down your thighs yet hopper was quick to stuff it back with his fingers.

"Who do you belong to?"

"J-Jim hopper"

The next day he took you on a date and for the first time held you hand for eveyone to see <3<3

#stranger things x reader #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #hopper smut #hopper x reader

642 notes · View notes

kuni-is-daddy · 1 year

Note

Thinking about Scara making us rub his cock with our pussy until we both cum

DOM! BOSS SCARAMOUCHE X FEMALE BODYGUARD READER.

100 followers special AHH OMFG TY.

PURE FILTH.

Juicy stuff: Grinding,Recording, at a desk :<, Yandere themes

Featuring: CHILDE, he's your bestie in the start :) had so much fun writing Childe in this KKLMK I LOVE HIM❤️❤️😩

1.2K WORDS.

amazing art credits! Scara masterlist Part 1 of Boss scara.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Stillness, Silence. The complete opposite of thunder. And that was his mother, The raiden shogun. God of thunder. Rumors spread around the elaborate 'Gakaden' company that once again her excellency has cancelled another meeting with her son. Its been 200 years since he's last seen her, heard her voice. Scaramouche was only able to rejoice in the sweet sent she left from each letter that was sent in her fluid handwriting.

"Y/n Y/n!" Childe said while tapping your shoulder. "Ah! Childe!! you scared me. Dont sneak up on me like that!" you nudged his shoulder in return. "Hah hah. sorry comrade~ anyway. Did you hear about scara?" you closed the book, bookmarking where you left off. "Yeah our Excellency is quite the busy woman. At least now i can catch up on my book" you smiled. "Why'd you ask? Is everything okay?" You gave a concerned look and the ginger then laughed at you. "Well the thing is.....IM GOING BACK HOME!!!" he took out a picture of teucer and the rest of his siblings. They we're wearing christmas sweaters while holding a 'welcome home' sign. "oh shit really!? your going back to snezhnaya? Thats great childe! how long are you going to be gone?" "hmm probably a month or two. Scara said we needed a break." Childe said "We? what do you mean by we?" You looked at him suprised. "Soo...You dont know gurly?" You gave a straight face. "No- I dont know GUrLy" "Scara is giving us a month off from work. He said something about wanting time to himself and-- I dont know the rest. To be honest, all i know is that we come back next month on the 30th." You scanned the room to see your fellow co-workers organizing their desks and holding boxes in their hands. "Seriously!? Thats great! That means i can go back home and-" Suddenly. The intercom rang with a short beep.

"If Y/N L/N Is still present in the building, Please report to Lord Scaramouche's Office Immediately!"

You tilted your head at the request. "Oooo did you get in trouble y/n??" "No? Or at least.. I hope not." You got up and placed your book back on your desk. Sighing at the sudden realization you we're gonna be by yourself without your 'best friend' for another month. "hey hey.. Cheer up okay? Its only a month and besides. WE CAN ALWAYS TEXT!!" childe waved his phone in your face, your sad expression then turning into a happy one. "HEY THERE GURLY-" "YOU LOOK WELL" "CARE TO EXCHANGE.." "NOTES?" The both of you giggled and then hugged eachother one final time. "Im gonna miss you so much ajax~" "of course, The one time you say my name its when im leaving-."

The intercom rang again. "Y/N... L/N.... REPORT TO LORD SCARAMOUCHE'S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY." now with a more nervous tone then ever. "God. Wonder whats going on over there they need me so bad." "Well..Ill be seeing you Comrade. Take care for me okay?" He gave you a kiss on the forehead, ending it off with you two doing your signature handshake as he walked out of the company.

While climbing the many floors you eventually made it to the 13th floor. Your master's office. You slowed down your stroll in the long cold dark hallway at the sound of pleads and yells. "P-PLEASE LORD SCARAMOUCHE.. I DONT KNOW WHERE SHE IS. I ASKED THROUGH THE WHOLE BUILDING TWICE, HAVE MERCY-" It sounded like the woman on the intercom. "Twice? I said bring her to my fucking office. Not call her, Not ASK around for her. Bring her. But you cant even do your goddam job." you put your hand against the doorknob, conflicting weather you should intervene or not. "Your nothing. Do you know that? Nobody special. I dont care about your family, Your kids, Or your life. Under me, Your just someone i hired for my mothers sake. Just a worker. Replaceable like the rest of the humans in here." You turned the doorknob, hoping to intervene in what sounded like the potential murder of your co-worker. She was being held by her throat, hovering over the balcony while scara held his signature katana in his other hand. "KUNI- STOP!" he turned his head immediately at the use of that name. The woman fell, gasping for air while recklessly running for her life out of the building.

"Hm. So you are here, Close the door." he dropped his blade in its stand and walked towards you. You closed the door, making sure it was locked and immediately turned your head. "Kuni? What the hell was that? Why did you try to KILL that woman??" He rubbed his hand along your shoulder. "Does it realllyyy matter baby? I can just hire a new one you know." he scoffed. "Kuni. Humans arent replaceable. You cant just KILL someone like that." "Mhm..Your right. Cant replace you and that sexy body of yours~" He grew closer to you, Placing your hand against his tie. "W-well..You wont have to worry about me. Or Ajax leaving..Anyway..Why did you call me in here- Master." He pulled away at your change in tone. If theirs one thing that drove kuni crazy about you, is how persistent you we're with work. Still managing to stay perfessional. He sat back behind his desk, Clicking his pen with a laid back expression. "Not in a good mood today pet, Was hoping you could change that f' me~" The balcony door was still open a bit behind him, the warm summer air breezed through the room. Making you tug at your own suit with how hot it started to feel, How intimidating he looked from across the room as you stood at the door. "O-okay..Where do you want me to go master? Do you want to go out to eat? I just have to get my case and-" he sighed and began unzipping his pants.

"Come here and ill show you~" You we're nervous at how intimate he sounded but reluctantly walked towards him. He looked you up and down, noticing how similar your outfit was to his. How your hips curved around the belt. "Want you to sit..Right here..." He rubbed his hands against his thighs, Motioning for you to sit. "B-but we shouldnt do it here- theirs people still working kuni-" He sucked his teeth at your remark. "You think i fucking care Pet? dont want to make master more mad do you?" "N..no..I dont." You closed the blinds to the balcony, remembering how you almost witnessed another womans murder infront of your eyes.. over you. You faced scara and blushed. Turning your head away while stripping each piece of clothing off of you until you wore nothing but lacey black lingerie. "God..You look so hot in those.." he groaned as you hovered over his cock. positioning your pussy right against it, "Grind on daddys cock. Fuck yes~" He threw his head back as your hands held onto the chair for stability.

"A-am i doing good for you master...?" he pressed his hands against your ass, slapping them as they made contact "AH~" "Hell yeah.. Your doing so good' want you wet for me." He shifted his hands towards your underwear, slowly making them shift down so he could see your clit. "K-kuni! what are you doing.." "Ugh~ turn your head back up- Wanna feel your clit rubbing against me" He pulled your underwear down, Repositioning you so your clit rubbed against his big length, Teasing you as your hole ached for him to be inside of you. "Master~ Your so big..hah..." "Yeah you like that pet? Like how good it feels against you?" Wet stains started to emerge on his pants as you grinded faster against him, Chasing the burning feeling he gave you. "K-kuni~ Feels so' good~ Please..fuck me.." you shifted your grip away from the chair, now tightly holding onto him instead. "Mmm dont think thats good enough love, Beg for it." Begging. Kuni always made you beg and scream for him, He loved hearing how desperate you we're for him to fill you up. To claim you as his. Watching as you cried in frustration when he'd pull out just when your about to cum. "K-KUNI~ PLEASE M' SO CLOSE" "Shit~ keep moaning like that, cum for daddy, cum for me. and ill fuck you. Fuck~ hah...bounce those tits for me. You look so fucking good~" he slowly pulled his phone out, Recording how your tongue stuck out for him and your tits bounced. How you looked like a dog in heat. "Fuck..Thats it y/n Dont stop, dont fucking stop." "AH~ K-KUNI M' GONNA CUM~ KUNI!!!!!!!!"

Your juices squirted all over kuni's pants as he came at the same time as you. You looked up to notice him recording you and covered your face in embarassment. "Mmm... is my little slut embarassed? god look at the fucking mess you made." He let his phone fall down on the floor. Roughly grabbing you and placing you against the desk. "K-Kuni! Dont be so- MMM~" he tied his tie around your mouth. Throwing his clothes onto the floor and picking up his phone once again. "Shit...Cant get enough of you y/n~ love how this pussy is all mine~ are you mine pet?" you nodded your head with no hesitation.

"Fuck yes. Im gonna break you."

748 notes · View notes

oh-allie · 17 days

Text

shakespeare and swooning

alhaitham x g/n reader

synopsis; you read one shakespeare play and now you want to impress your "buddy" alhaitham with your newfound knowledge !! what could go wrong?

fluff, g/n reader, TOTAL CRACKFIC, OOC alhaitham, SWEARING, kind of a modern au ???? i mention "ringing tighnari" but that could just be imagined as using the akasha terminal !!!! didnt write this with a modern au in mind

warning ‼️ PLEASE dont expect this to be accurate, if youre a big classic literature fan then dont attack me for not being a NERD ☹️ just imagine a poser using their fancy words (because they think its cool)

you know how libraries are supposed to be a place of study and tranquility? no the fuck you don't, or at least you don't care, because running through the house of daena with shakespeares, "romeo and juliet," in your hands is NOT very tranquil.

multiple poor akademiya students look at you, PISSED OFF because your shoes are going clu-clonk on the marble floors, which wouldn't be an issue if you weren't scurrying through the library.

is that kaveh ?? he's giving you the same look he gives alhaitham every day ..

... but this is IMPORTANT !! you're on a MISSION right now !! you just finished reading the first act of "romeo and juliet," and you're convinced your brain has expanded tenfold in size.

you're now rushing to your good pal haitham to share your knowledge! how kind and gracious!

you're stopped before his house, you've known him for long enough and gotten close enough for him to let you come in whenever. you know kaveh isn't home, and haitham would never purposefully work overtime, so you're certain you can get his attention and show off in peace.

why are you so adamant about showing off to alhaitham? is it REALLY showing off, or are you trying to, heehee, impress him?? its too late to be flustered at this thought because you already unlocked the door with the spare key kaveh leaves behind one of haithams ugly ass decorative plants and you've taken off your shoes and oh god hes right there and the sunlight from the door is lighting up his face in that way that only happens to him and hes looking at you with a suprised, slightly annoyed, but incredibly fond look and oh no what was your plan again?

"greetings, alhaitham! ☝️🤓" you say, finding a surge of confidence remembering the story you read.

"... hey. what are you doing here?" his response is quick but before you respond he continues, "did you just say greetings?"

"indubidibdibdly! hath you be surprised?" you pretentious hipster. you think youre SO cool, but unfortunately your little crush doesn't seem very impressed either.

"okay, what are you doing? you're being weird." he's not even looking at you, and he's back in his chair before you can rush over and sit on the couch. "is something wrong? should i get tighnari to give you a checkup?"

you'd be touched by the care of the suggestion if he wasn't so cheeky in his tone.

"wha, what, no?! no what the hell- stop ringing tighnari."

"are thou o'er wrought with admiration?" you grin, somehow still under the impression that you sound cool.

he gives an eyebrow raise to that. not bothering to mark his place in his book, he stands up.

"i lie testy in why you act so unpregnant, my dear."

"what"

HUH ? what did bro just say ? testy ???? unpregnant ?? MY DEAR ??? backtrack again, UN-WHAT ??

"be still my beating heart, thou hast taken mine with absolute cunning." is he making fun of you i genuinely can't tell ... its like hes speaking in moon runes right now.

"haitham, heheh, WHAT are you DOING ??" you can't help but laugh at his funny little words, magic man. even if you're clueless to what he just said to you.

"whatever doth thou mean?" he's totally making fun of you !! after ALL your effort to impress him too?

"well, usually i do all the ranting and you sit pretty and listen, so it's weird that you're talking so much, especially like THAT?" fym sit pretty ....

"when words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain." that sounds familiar, but you can't think about it longer before he continues, "shall i compare thee to a summers day?"

"ALRIGHT, i recognize that one, dummy." you laugh, "were you really not impressed by me?" you whisper, the rush of embarrassment you shouldve felt in that library is finally catching up with you.

he stares at you for a second. you just wish you could find out what hes thinking up there, if you could even understand it.

and then he lets you into his mind, with a simple "i love you." as if alhaitham, renowned scribe of the akademiya, top student, couldn't find the words to describe how he felt for you.

or maybe that was what he felt for you. he loved you.

"... you called me unpregnant."

a/n; i read romeo and juliet like... 3 years ago.... so.. uam... 😇😇 totally accurate! hope this crackfic style of writing isnt too niche so this doesnt flop because EMBARRASSING....... do people even like al haitham anymore like guys lets go back to the good old days before the FRENCH came in..... (this is just me projecting cause i havent played genshin in a while and i still lovelove sumeru)

#al haitam x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #DONT LET THIS FLOP GANG IM PUTTING A LOT ON THE LINE POSTING GENSHIN FICS #shakespeare made up the word unpregnant #GUYS PLZPLZOLZ LIKE AND REBLOG SO I CAN SAY it popped off!!#WHEN PEOPLE ASK WHY I POSTED A GENSHIN FIC....#genshin x you #genshin impact x you #al haitham #al haitham x you #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #al haitham x y/n #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #al haitham x gender neutral reader #was listening 2 when will my life begin when writing 😇#alhiayham is my fancast for rapunzel !!!!#i started writing this in november of 2023 😇#allies fics #crackfic #crack fic #wait guys hear me out #crackship layla x alhaitham #IS LAYLA A MINOR WAIT #if she isnt then WOOOOWWWW CUTIE..!!!!#its cute

65 notes · View notes

no-nameno-face · 1 year

Text

Auburn Thoughts (Pt.4)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: After a long night, and waking up with a raging hangover, Ellie comes to your aid.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Mostly fluff this chapter, sub!reader, dom!ellie, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, biting, bruising, hangover, pills, taking pills

Author's Notes: this definitely isn't my favorite chapter ever, i have pretty bad writers block (i much prefer making audios, but I really want to improve my writing.) with that being said i still hope you guys enjoy it. <3 some more fluff and lovey dovey stuff. I love teasing (but caring) Ellie so much. I just know she so full of sarcasm but like insanely protective and caring. UGHHHHH shes so real to me :( I think (dont quote me on this) the next chapter will have an audio! I have some fun ideas!!!! Eeee <3 anywho if youre reading this ilysm and i appreciate you

Part 3

Part 5 (WITH AUDIO)

______________________________________________________________

Hands gripping sheets, white knuckles. All I see is her. Her… Her name rolling off my tongue, I can't say it enough.

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.

______________________________________________________________

My eyes drift close as the current carrying my body resides, leaving me sensitive and aching in its wake. Heaving breaths fill the silence, hers and mine. Synchronated.

I feel her fingers as they brush a hair out of my face. And I look up to meet her gaze, a thank you in my eyes. A finally in hers.

“What the fuck?” she says, lips lifting into a smile, shaking her head slightly.

“What the fuck!” I return, matching her expression. My voice shakier than hers. We laugh at the precarious situation beneath us. My arms shift to cover my bare chest. My cheeks a bright shade of crimson, replaying the events in my mind. Ellie sits up, the warmth of her knee leaving me. I watch as she leans over the side of the bed and grabs my shirt, tossing it to me before turning to grab her own. I pull it over my head, and flinch slightly as it scratches over my tender breasts.

“You good?” she asks me with a smirking sideways glance as she pulls the black tank on. I chuckle.

“Umm.. yeah you could say that.” hands fidgeting in my lap. My eyes shoot up to her suddenly, brow furrowed. “Should I..” my gaze drifts to her hips, “Do.. do you want to?” I sigh, she smiles. “I feel bad.” She looks at me with amusement.

“No. I’m fine. Watching you was enough.”

“Jesus Christ Ellie,” I say, averting my gaze. Not hiding the effect of her words on me. She laughs at me. “Don’t fucking laugh, im trying to be.. Like.. accommodating or some shit.”

“Accommodating?” she raises her brows at me.

“I don't know man, I've never done this shit before,” Rolling my eyes. She squints at me.

“You've never.. Do you mean like.. With a girl?” she questions. My eyes widen when I realize the information I shared.

“No! I- I mean, technically yeah.. but like its..” her eyes widened at me. “I mean I haven't with a guy either.. I just..” STOP TALKING! “It's not like it's the first time I’ve.. You know..” I stumble over my words, unable to stop my babbling.

“Came?” She raises a brow. I gape at her. “I’d sure hope not. That shit’d be bad for your health.” she says smiling. I glare at her.

“Fuck off” she smirks, standing. She paces to the kitchenette in the corner and starts opening cabinets. “What are you doing?” She pulls out a glass.

“Getting you some water. It's been a long night.” she says, filling the glass from my sink, bringing it to me.

“Aftercare? Who knew you were such a gentleman?” I take it from her, gulping it down. I didn't realize how parched I was.

“Did you expect anything less?” She sits next to me, the bed shifting at her weight. I meet her smirk.

“So.. you said I have no idea how long you've wanted this.. Me..” I say looking into her.

“Well I..” her turn to be flustered. “I didnt know you wanted me… you know… in the same way. I mean don't get me wrong, I saw how you watched me in class,” I blush at this, “but I figured it was just in a weird ‘I like drawing so I observe everything’ sorta way I guess.”

“Ellie, I was totally checking you out.” I laugh.

“Dude, I didn't even know you were into girls. You look like so straight.”

“I look straight?”

“Yeah, you do.” She says matter of factly.

“Hmm. Funny. Did I still look straight while I was on top of you?” I raise my brows, “Under you?” my confidence ebbing and flowing, dependent on her own. She rolls her tongue over her teeth.

“Debatable.”

“There's no winning with you, is there?”

“I'm hard to beat.”

“I'd like to take that challenge.” a moment passes us. I don't want it to end.

“It's really late,” she sighs.

“Shit,” I say looking at the alarm clock on my bedside table. 2:47 AM.

“I'm gonna head back to my place, I don't want my bike to get towed.” I feel a small pang of disappointment.

“Yeah, no, that totally makes sense.” she starts putting her flannel back on.

“It seems a bit late to ask but, can I have your number?” She smiles at me.

“Mmm.. No. Sorry. I'm not into girls.” I tilt my head at her. She pokes her cheek with her tongue. I laugh, sticking my hand out. She gives me her phone and I put in my number. I stand up and give it to her, walking her to the door.

I watch her put her shoes on. “Get home safe,” I say leaning against the wall, crossing my arms. She gives me a sideways smile and in a split second she is gently grabbing my cheek and kissing me. Much softer than before.

“Bye.”

I'm too flustered to respond before she leaves the door. Fuck me. I'm left standing there staring at the wall. Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. Did that just happen? Oh my god. My hand shoots to my lips. My knees squeeze at the memory of her touch. I sit here for a minute trying to process tonight's events.

I need to go to bed, I tell myself trying to break the chain of my thoughts. I go into the bathroom and grab my face wash. I splash some cold water on my face and take a pump of the soap, scrubbing. I rinse it off and grab my towel blindly. I pull the towel down my face, finally looking myself in the eye until… my eyes dart to my neck. A FUCKING BITE MARK. I gape at it, already bruising. Part of me is mad that she would be so reckless, but the other is saying Hers. I'm marked as HERS.

I flop onto my bed, lying there. Wishing she was still here with me. My fingers drift to the mark, and push on it enjoying the dull pain. A reminder of her mouth on me, and a thought of the other places I would like it to be-

BUZZ

I shoot up looking for my phone, I grab it off the nightstand and check it anxiously.

I fumble with my phone, seeing the 8 missed calls. Shit. I had completely forgotten to tell her where I went. I press on the missed call and my phone starts dialing.

“Hello?” she sounds upset.

“Hi!! Chloe i'm so sorry I-”

“Where the fuck are you? Dude I was scared shitless”

“I’m fine! I just got too drunk and a..” I look at my bed, where Ellie lounged earlier, “a friend took me home. It's fine!”

“Its not fucking fine,” she still sounds drunk, her words slightly slurring together “Seriously you didnt even tell me where you were going!”

“I tried! I couldn't find you!”

“Then you should've tried harder!”

“Maybe you shouldn't have left me in a house full of drunk men, did you think about that?”

“Oh fuck off, youre a big girl. You couldn't be alone for 10 seconds?”

“Chlo-”

“You fucking ruined my night. I've sat here worried about you for the last hour, stressed out of my mind.”

“I understand, I'm sorry.” I say, resigned to the conversation. She's drunk, she doesn't know what she's saying.

CLICK

The phone hangs up and I stare at the now dim screen. I'm too tired to be upset, I'll talk to her later about everything. I fall into my pillow and pull a blanket over my legs. My mind is drained, the adrenaline of my high crashing into heavy eyes and deep breathing as I slip into sleep.

______________________________________________________________

BUZZ

My eyes drift open, everything is blurry and way too bright. I squint as pain shoots through my skull. I definitely drank too much last night. I reach, patting my bed trying to locate my phone. Finally, when my fingers find it I roll onto my side to see who texted me. An unfamiliar number. Ellie.

I make my way, slowly, to the kitchen looking in the fridge. Eggs and milk. That's it. God, I need to go grocery shopping. I pour myself a cup of water and dig in my drawers until I find a small bottle of pills. I pop one while I walk back to my bed. Setting my cup down, I fall onto my mattress. I turn on a YouTube video and cover my head with a pillow. Trying to drown out the raging light.

BUZZ

After not hearing anything for a while, I pressed the pillow back into my eyes and waited for the meds to kick in and take the edge off of my raging headache.

KNOCK KNOCK

My brow furrows against the cushion.

KNOCK KNOCK

I groan and sit up, it must be the hall director checking in. It had been about a month since her last drop in so that would make sense. But god, bad timing. I sluggishly made my way to the door and swung it open. Green eyes met mine.

“God you look awful.”

“Ellie!” Oh my god. I very quickly became aware of how disheveled I was. She walks by me, holding up a brown bag of food.

“Cheeseburgers!” she announces, setting it down on the counter. I'm still at the door while my pained brain plays catch up. I finally make my way to her, she's pulling out loads of food and laying it all out. She hands me a wrapped burger,

“Eat.” she commands.

“Umm Ellie.. I'm vegan.” I look at her with concerned eyes. Her face drops. My worried look shifts to humor as I laugh, “I’m fucking with you. You should've seen your face.” she furrows her brows at me, “God you're so cute.'' I say taking the burger. And striding to the bed.

“That was mean.”

“Was it? I thought it was pretty funny.” I sit on the bed. She grabs a burger too and sits next to me while I unwrap my own. It hit me all at once, my brain finally acclimating to the situation. I told her I didn't have anything, and she went out of her way. For me. My heart flutters.

“Thanks for this Ellie. I really appreciate it.”

“Is that one of your jokes too?” I nudge her with my shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Ibuprofen, greasy burgers, and you? Shit, I'm not complaining” I say as I take a bite. She beams at me. Her smile is so beautiful. “Do you wanna watch something?”

“Yeah!” she says, settling against my headboard, scooching closer so our shoulders touch. Butterflies flew through my shoulder into my belly where they fluttered happily. I turned on The Office and we sat there together, eating and laughing and comparing the characters to each other.

“You're definitely Dwight.”

“That's so rude!” I smack her shoulder playfully. “If I'm Dwight then you’re Andy, and that is arguably worse.” I suggest.

“Ouch, that's just mean. At least Dwight is funny.” I raise my brows at her.

“You see my point!”

She bites her lip. “You're kinda cute when you're a smart ass.” I feel my cheeks turn pink. She notices and uses it as an opportunity to fluster me further, laying her hand on my upper thigh. My breath catches in my throat. She smiles at this, settling back to watch the show. My eyes are on the tv but my thoughts are stuck on her fingers, and the many places I wish they would be. I feel warmth grow as I think about her fingers on me. In me… Two can pay at this game.

I move closer to her, closing the space between us, laying my head on her shoulder. I put my hand on hers and start drawing lazy shapes on her knuckles. I see chills decorate her tattooed arm. Her hand squeezes my thigh ever so slightly, and I exhale a bit too loud. It's almost like I can see her ears perk up. I see her eyes, in my peripheral vision, settle on my hand and trace up my body.

“You're in the same outfit as last night.”

“Okay, Jesus, don't call me out like that.” I sigh. “I was too tired to change.”

She turns to meet my eyes and I notice a mischievous glint shine across them. “Do you wanna hop in the shower?” The butterflies that settled in my stomach migrate to the warmth between my legs. I sat there blind sided by her question. She liked to one-up me, and she's damn good at it.

“Its okay if not,” she shrugs

“No!” my voice comes out a bit too high-pitched, I correct it, “I- if you want to, I'm okay with it.” she smiles before standing and walking towards my bathroom. I'm frozen to my mattress. She turns to me when she reaches the door and tilts her head at me, playfully.

“Are you coming?”

#ellie williams fluff #ellie smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie williams x fem reader #last of us #the last of us ellie #the last of us #the last of us part 2

279 notes · View notes

aonungyoufuck · 1 year

Text

Runaway {pt 2}

Parts: One , Three

Synopsis: Small Family moment with your Brothers. Ao’nung confesses why he stayed. Ao’nung hissing at his mom

“Sister. I bring you my hunt today” Lo’ak said barging in as if you hadn’t been asleep.

Groaning, you rubbed your head as you sat up. “Eywa, Lo’ak you could have at least made noise just so i wake up normally”

“Sorry”

You could see Neteyam come up behind him and smacked him.

“You’ll be happy to know Everything is well in the family. Cant say Lo’ak hasn’t gotten into a few scuffles here and there however”

“ I have not!”

“Of course he did”

Neteyam nodded. He had always been able to confide with you as you two both had the same responsibility to look after your youngers. “I am guilty of it too tho. Had to make sure this Skxawng didn't get lost as sea as well”

“Translation: He wanted to have fun” Lo’ak Said slicing the fish he had Brought to you

You could only roll your eyes as you took a bit of the fruit that had been left there.

“I heard Ronal isn’t at all too pleased to know Ao’nung stayed here last night” Neteyam said

“HE STAYED HERE? AT NIGHT? WITH YOU?”

“Oh please I was asleep. Apparently the fool slept sitting” you spoke watching Lo’ak prepare your food. Luckily enough he was getting better and better. Perhaps your mother taught him a thing or two. “However, I am going to ask Ronal if she could Teach me. Not train me per say but hopefully something so i can repay her kindness. I mean once this baby is born its really just Tsireya. I would like to help her, you know?”

“Hmm Maybe. If Ronal would allow you such” Neteyam said Splitting the food to you three.

“Where’s The rest of the family?”

“Mom is preparing some food for Kiri and Tuk. I think Dad’s still Out with Tonowari? I dont know for what really tho so i cant really say” Neteyam spoke handing you bits and pieces of the fish and fruit.

It made you smile, and roll your eyes. You weren’t a child but it was nice of him to know he still cared for you as such. Even tho you werent at all that much younger than him.

“I see” You nodded as you continued to eat. You should give Lo’ak credit for the meat being prepared well.

“Its nice all of us. Eating like this”

“Yeah cause we don't eat” You spoke feeling a hard slap to your side. “LO’AK?”

“You know what i mean okay”

“Lo’ak do not hurt our sister. Cant you see she is on her deathbed”

“You both are the worst you know? It would be you dead if i hadn’t stepped in you know?”

It was just this for a while. You didnt count the seconds that passed. You just basked in it. But soon they had to leave. You bid them farewell and to tell the rest of the family to enjoy their night. As you sat there. Waiting. And it hadn’t been long till you heard the jostling of beads at the door.

“You may come in”

To no one's surprise but maybe Ao’nung himself. He stepped in. “Mother brought this” he spoke, handing you the bowl of very still Wet Algae along with some roots that had been boiled alongside it. “Its suppose to help with any internal pain you may feel"

“Thank you” If it was bitter tasting well you didnt have to let him know. “ i heard you got one nasty cramp on your back since you stayed here last night”

“Well you heard wrong”

“Ao’nung. I saw you” You said giggling a bit to see his ears flatten.

“Alright well what do you want me to do? You were basically giving me your last words last night. Cant exactly sleep knowing id be blamed for leaving you alone” He said moving the mess your brother’s didnt exactly clean up.

“Im sorry i left you on such a bad note” You apologized. Drinking the last bit of the bland broth and chewing on the roots.

“Man. Your Brothers suck at cleaning you know?”

“They tried their best” You could only chew harder. The question is harboring in your mind “may i ask you something?”

“You already did. But go on” Ao’nung sat in front of you.

“Do you think, I could ask your mother to teach me some stuff? Not Tsahik training or anything of that sort. But just to help her when your sibling is born?”

“I mean i dont think she’ll like it all too much. But she's a reasonable woman. So i know she'll teach you if you ask” Ao’nung took your fruit bowl from you and began eating “But you are the most Reasonable from your siblings too. Given you haven’t gotten into fights and you have learned our ways faster than your siblings. Well aside your sister”

“ i guess you’re right, Maybe i did more good in not joining in on kicking your ass”

“Pff. You think you can beat me?”

“In anything Fish lips”

Ao’nung couldn't help but laugh. Making you smile as you watched.

“I think this is the first time i heard you laugh like that. Its nice” you smiled at him looking at the floor as you felt your hair fall down.

“Was the way i laughed before ugly or something?”

“Way to ruin the moment” you laughed a little rubbing your temple. “I meant in a sense where you aren't laughing out of mocking someone y'know?”

“Oh”

“Yeah oh” You Were getting tired. The food and the pain numbing as you laid down. “Now if you may. You better get going before your mother gets mad for you staying here again” you didn’t wait for a respond. Not that you could hold the sleep coming to you

But Ao’nung didnt move. His spear now at his side as he sat between your sleeping form and the only entrance to this place. He didn't know why. But something in him told him to just protect you while you were in this vulnerable state.

He thought himself crazy. Why was he so persistent on caring for you? Why did he agree with his mother? Why wasn’t he bothered? But seeing you just lay there made him think. Made him fall back on seeing your body heave and wheeze with the pain of having an open wound. You were nearly dead. You almost died. It did not only affect Tsireya but himself too.

He just kept watch grip tightening when he heard the faintest of noise. Tail laying atop of you making sure you kept breathing. Letting out a low hiss when he saw the curtain open. But quickly dropping his ears.

“Ao’nung! Its time you head home” His mother spoke. Stern and cold. Looking down at you as you didnt stir.

“But”

“No, I will not argue this. You are to go home and she will be sleeping here tonight alone. You can see her again tomorrow evening. I dont know why you want to but you can then. For now go home and head to bed” She ordered leaving no room to argue.

She watched as he bit back his tongue. Standing up spear in hand as he walked out. Ronal only turned to look at you. Placing the wet paste on top of the sheer wraps around you. “ I dont get what this boy sees in protecting you. You are safe and alive. It should be enough” She muttered out.

“Nete..yam”

She looked at you. Your worried expression trembled as your hand shook and moved slightly, reaching out. She could only sigh in exhaustion. ‘Soon’ she thought as she had to think. She would rather swallow her pride than let Neytiri help her as she had offered for helping her children. But realistically what other option was there, she thought.

“Hush now. You are well as is he” she could only whisper as if to ease your worried mind. Eywa had saved you, and that should be enough.

#avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow imagines #ao'nung x reader #aonung x reader #aonung #ao'nung #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung x you #neteyam #kiri avatar #tuktirey #lo'ak sully #sully family

812 notes · View notes

rzyraffek · 1 year

Note

Can you do a clan leader yautja x child reader

i really hope u mean like cute platonic stuff with yautja taking care of child!!! Otherwise this request is very sus. I dont want to use word "child/kid" in every sentence so the kid will have pronouns they/them

Human kid with Clan Leader Yautja

He would be overprotective! especially towards human kids, like they are much smaller and little stupid weaker than yautja ones

Will hiss at anyone that scares her >:)

His instinct will tell him to train them and go on huntings with them BUT LIKE HE DOESNT KNOW when should he start?? Like how old human pup must be to be ready for first hunt???

I guess since hunting is a huge thing in Yautja culture, first hunt with their kids is like essential for them.

Probably will take them around teenage years, not too late but not to young too

Also growing up around yautjas kid will automaticly be more athletic and skilled than average earth teen

But back to kid being kid. HE WILL MELT if they hold his hand or fidget with his armor! of course its dangerous and sharp! but its so cute! Yautjas are very curious beings too, but they wouldnt randomly come to LEADER of a Clan and start just start fidgeting with his armor/locks

Also he sometimes forgot that human kids take more time to learn basic stuff, how to walk for example. so he will just start walking his normal pace, turn around becasue they didnt hear kid's steps and just see them laying on the floor cuz they fell :(

He would spy on normal human families to see how kids behave and how perents treat them! Yknow Yautjas arent like humans they dont really care about their kids after they learn how to hunt

IF kid will call him space dad OR just dad he will accually have lil heart atack! Please thats so cute!!

Play-fighting all the way, thats how pups learn their strengths in fun ways! also mayyybee he acidently yeeted them too hard and they flew away like 2meters (mayyybeee but totaly on acident!!)(nothing serious happend exept flying child)

Noone can litteraly hurt them(exept their own perent apeareantly) cuz if somone does, death for them :) or at least a lot of hissing and punching

Theres no way in hell that he will braid their hair, he is too tired to learn how to do that! And human hair constantly grows!!why!! pls its everywhere!!! So he would probably cut them short, it grows back anyways so whats the deal?? But if kid really reallllyy loves their hair i guess they can stay in certain lenght BUT they take care of it alone he doenst want to deal wtih it (mental break down due to one event when he tried to do pretty braids and it got tangled and he didnt know what to do)

But even if he really loves them, and treats them as his own, he still wants them to hunt or at least help the clan in someways, he doenst want his kid to grow up to be useless. He will try to find something that would fit them (for example if kid is intrested in crafting they may become a blacksmith in future (ihave no clue if yaujtas have blacksmiths i just took random profession alr))

Overall 9/10 amazing dad material, although he sometimes doenst undestand human body and how it really works

ALL x reader tags are there only so more people can reach it!!!

#yautja x reader #yautja #alien vs predator #yautja headcanon #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader

571 notes · View notes

fcknstar · 11 months

Note

Hey, how are you?

I would like to make a wish for number 3

Of the character Marcus Lopez

(If possible, could the jealousy be on the part of the reader?)

,, building blocks "

pairings : marcuslopez x fem!reader ( lara )

summary : sometimes you cant force yourself to do things you dont want, maybe this time you can.

content warnings : jealousy, (possible) unrequited love.

** lowercase intended **

it was normal for people to make friends..right? new student, getting to know one another from their own category. what more can one ask for?

it was rare to see students from different ranks mix, too rare. but here you are, watching saya wrap her hands around marcus. a sickening sight for you. you and saya relatively knew marcus at the same time, hers more intimate. you cant help but sigh at the thought that marcus might not even consider you as a friend. he should be lucky you were there to stop chiko from slicing his throat the first time he met him.

" pretty rancid, mate? tough love, tough love. " lex appeared next to you, smoking a blunt.

" im not in love with marcus. "

" who said anything about him? "

" fuck you. " lex sighed. he knew you for long enough to read you like a book. it was like reading in another language, you just got to guess and hope for the best. lex was always lucky.

" c'mon, lara. him? you could do so much better. " willie stood next to you.

" willie, dont be a dick. " lex sighed.

" well, its in his name. cant blame him. " you earned a nudge from willie, who glared at you. lex on the other hand, cheered you on.

" atta girl! "

" atta girl. " willie mocked, " shes not your girl. "

" well, she can be. " lex winked at you.

you can't help but think whether you just were jealous because you cared about him, or that you cared about him too much that you heart beats faster, threatening you.

laughing at the possibility of you liking marcus, you invited lex and willie to grab a drink, trying to drown the thoughts of what saya and marcus may be doing.

★

" hey lara! " marcus happily planted himself by your side the next morning.

" morning. " you bluntly reply, the said thoughts also planting itself in your mind almost immediately.

" i didnt see you at the party last night, where were you? "

" i- " you were rudely interrupted by lex.

" well mate, she was there. you were just too busy with saya to even notice. " lex often had no filter.

" lex- " you were then rudely interrupted by marcus.

" you were? shit, im sorry- "

" its whatever. " shit. that was the wrong response. it made you sound like you were hurt, and you often put a tough facade. its fine was always your go to answer, but what happened just now just slipped, like how your heart started to slip through its designated holder, right into marcus hands.

you continued to walk as if everything was alright, lex pursing his lips with marcus struggling to get a word out. he had felt guilty for not seeing you when he begged you to come to the party with him and the rest, quoting that you can protect them. but that feeling fell when he saw saya.

" hey saya! " he greeted with much more enthusiasm than how he greeted you. its not like you payed attention. but there he is, following says like a lost puppy.

" fucking hell, love. think you might wanna cut ties with him. "

" dont you think that's a bit far fetch? " i stopped walking, turning to him.

" well no? with the way he just left us, i mean you for her? woah. id be lucky to even have you breathing the same air as me. "

" its fine lex.. "

" its most definitely is not. i can see that you like him, or i think you do. and hes not worth the time. your time! "

" and i should be taking advice from a guy who sniffs the live out of glue? " you chuckle. it was fun having lex around, he knew how to stand his own ground and knew how to influence others to do the same.

★

you thought about what lex said. you didnt want to just break off a friendship just because your heart ached whenever he was with someone and not you. maybe you should have just cut off your feelings because marcus eventually caught on to the sudden changes in your behavior.

" hey lara. " he greeted.

you just hummed. just like clockwork, you would just hum. not even share a word with him. not even a glance. the star he once saw in your eye whenever he was around just vanished. he noticed how you hung out with your own league more, besides lex and petra.

" look saya, i really need to go now. " he winced before running off. him and saya was just having their own time chatting and drinking when he noticed the time. 8.15pm. he was late, 15 minutes late. it was the time whenever you had to spare. he knew, because you would often spend that time with him even if it was your only time to breathe. but you chose it to be with him.

marcus ran to your dorm, praying you were still in there.

" lara! " he saw you turn in confusion, after shutting your dorm room door.

" hey. " he greeted, properly.

" hi. " you never say hi. unless you want nothing with the said person.

" you free? or… " he glanced at your outfit which looked like you were dressing up for a date. that made him furrow his eye brows, heart sinking lower into the depths.

" no. why? " you dryly replied.

" well, you wanna go out? spend some time together like we used to? " he offered.

you had worked so hard rebuilding your guard that he easily broke down like building blocks. and now it was shaking.

#imagines #oneshots #answered #mattheo riddle #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader

189 notes · View notes

kichikichiko · 1 year

Text

Exhaustion

Fanfic for all but specifically written for my wonderful and amazing @hitomisuzuya

You need to take better care of yourself dear :(( I hope this little fanfic could give you a bit of comfort, or even make you smile. Anything is enough truly ❤️

Tighnari x fem!reader who overworks herself and is exhausted

Petnames used, fluff, not proofread, worried Tighnari

♡♡♡♡

You were exhausted, tired and sleepy. Your sleep schedule has gone haywire and you barely remember the last time you actually slept on your comfy bed instead of your wooden desk, stacked with papers

Working on papers for the akademiya was fun at first, but slowly became unbearable. Your papers were getting rejected left and right, making you think you should just quit being a student in that horrid school all together.

You knew better than to do that, being a scholar was your dream since you were a little girl. You simply couldn't give up now.

Being focused on forcing your eyes to stay open, and trying hard to not make your handwriting sloppy. You didnt realise a certain fennec fox leaning against the doorframe of your room. He knew you'd been working day and night to submit a paper that was deemed worthy by the akademiya in fact, he saw you from your window earlier that day still reading notes and writing them down.

The fox looked at you from behind, not saying a word not wanting to disturb your state. He softened his gaze and slowly walked towards you

"Sunflower, its time you go sleep. Youve been on your desk since 5 PM, come on lets go" placing his hands gently on your shoulders in fear of startling you.

"Hmmm" was your response, not looking away from your paper and reference documents. You CLEARLY werent listening to him and you CLEARLY wont end up sleeping

Your halfassed response caused ypur boyfriend to frown and scoff. Looks like you've awaken his sassy personality now.

He pushed your chair away fron the desk, making you face him "youre not listening to me dear"

Without letting you spit back a response or give another excuse the man carried you bridal style and made his way to your bed

"Tighnari let me go! My paper isn't finished just let me-"

"No. No means no. Did you not hear me? Youve been working since 5 PM its almost 12 and if I dont stop you now youll probably work till next morning." He cut you off and placed you down on your bed

Him cutting you off made you sigh. You knew he had a point, and you were too tired to fight back anyways.

"Look, I know finishing that paper is top priority to you, but taking care of yourself is more of a top priority love. I dont want you getting sick that will be a big problem"

You stayed silent, looking down at your hands, playing with your finger nails. It was pretty much a habit you did when you didnt know what to say or do. A habit Tighnari is all too familiar with

He kissed you on your forehead and leaned his forehead on yours "please just rest up. Im worried about your health sunflower" his voice was filled with uncertainty that you'd take his advice to heart and boarderline upset that you're exhausted, working day and night in end.

Your eyes widen slightly before you smiled a bit, placing a hand on his cheek, carefully and weakly caressing it. "Alright Nari, you win." You started before pulling away and looking at him still smiling

Your eyes showed evidence of fatigue and yet, a hint of shimmer in your eyes still remain, reassuing Tighnari that the "you" he knew was still there.

He tucked you into bed before sliding in and cuddling with you

"Goodnight Tighnari"

"Goodnight my sunflower"

#genshin fanfic #x reader #fanfic #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader #genshin tighnari #tighnari #tighnari x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin impact #kichifanficsfw #tighnari fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x reader

230 notes · View notes

beesmygod · 6 months

Note

Just wondering, do you consider it wasteful to do any fanfic/derivative work, or simply the ones that are attempting to brute force a preferable outcome to an unsatisfying story? Like, would you consider it the same waste if LR was a spin-off comic about uhhh [idk much about LO bare with me] filling in that decade time skip, rather than a beat for beat rewrite? Again, hope my tone isnt giving hostile vibes, as im genuinely curious your opinion. Thanks!

no not at all, even though i have been hostile to some people in a "come the fuck on" way, i appreciate having a back and forth with someone where we both whittle something down until we hit a nugget of understanding that helps us understand. i dont know. something more. anyway:

i dont think wasteful is the right word but i think i'm WAY more glib about it than the vast majority of people in fandom spaces or artistic spaces. im 33 and been online since i was in the 4th grade, so my experience with fanfiction has been VAST and varied but i have never cared for the medium much at all. i was, growing up, an outside hostile observer who was part of the people who would "spork" (I KNOOOWWWWW) fanfictions of especially dubious nature and tear it to shreds. however, it was understood that these extreme examples were not representative of the majority of the contributions to the form, but i do not have the same sort of baseline respect for the craft it has been trying to demand for the past decade or so. it is forever going to be tied with its origins with the worst of the worst by means of negative psychological association. many such cases

WHATEVER anyway, i think its less about the fact that it's derivative work (lots of derivative work can be incredible) but that fact that its a derivative work without a purpose. like i'm not sure what it's supposed to add to the conversation except that this one person thinks that they can make a bad comic a little bit better. which like, okay. get in line pall! most people could! what are they contributing to a grander discussion? what is this comic supposed to make me, the reader, think? literally the only answer i can think of is "i am doing better!"

even something that fills in a time skip (lol i forgot abt that) struggles under the weight of the same purposelessness. the question that should be asked is "but why?"; what is the purpose of it? what is the point? is it fun? that's fine, but audiences who are external to the creation process are probably not going to get the same fun from reading it as the artist did making it.

32 notes · View notes

autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

fic rec friday 6

welcome the the sixth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. Chapped Lips by Creatortan

Lance's lips were a distraction, sometimes. Keith just couldn't keep his eyes off of them.

i read this one and forget to bookmark it and it haunted my mind for WEEKS as i desperately tried to find it again. i went bonkers bc i wanted to reread it so bad, bc it is EXCELLENT. its fun and gay and the team as family dynamics are AMAZING, no team bashing here!! and as usual the pining was chefs kiss.

2. Mine by Anonymous [EXPLICIT, ABO]

How do Lance and Keith react when the other is kidnapped?

Keith goes feral. Lance becomes deadly.

yeah, yeah, i know. another omegaverse. absolutely feel free to avoid this one if it’s not ur thing, i know it’s not for everyone, but it was one of my first pieces of bamf unhinged lance and i refuse to be ashamed of liking it lmao. also i think it’s fair to say that this fic inspired my unhinged batshit lance fic, at least a little. give it a try if ur like me an abo is a guilty pleasure lmao

3. the way i love you by @taylortot

quiet moments in which keith and lance fall in love. and kiss a lot. post s7.

words cannot explain how much this series means to me. genuinely a series that is so poetically soft and loving that it makes tears well in your eyes. i started reading this series right when i turned 16, and idk it truly made something crack in fizzle in my brain, it made me realise how careful and choosing love is. i have read this series more times than i can count, definitely one of the top ten, and there are lines from this fic that i repeat to myself when i am looking for hope. i know it hasn’t been touched since 2020 but i will be watching it carefully and hoping for years to come. (my favourite, in the series, although it was hard to choose, is i want to kiss you there)

4. Read Label: Lance McClain’s Boyfriend by @bleusarcelle

“You know I’m not ashamed, right?” Lance meets his gaze sheepishly. “Like, I’m not ashamed of you, of us. Far from it, babe, I swear –”

“Lance,” Keith cuts in kindly, smiling warmly at the teen in his arms. “Believe me, I know but I do want to tell the world what you mean to me. I wanna start with our team, our family.”

“You should come with a warning,” Lance whispers, stroking Keith’s chin fondly as he drops his voice. “Caution: words that leave these lips may cause falling deeper in love. Thank you for shopping at Mullets4sales.com.”

Keith throws his head back as he shakes with laughter. Lance grins proudly at sound before he props himself on the bed and drops unceremoniously on top of his giggling boyfriend’s chest.

“But yeah, yes; let’s tell them after dinner.”

[Or the one where the team is on their way back home and stop on a planet where a pissy prince drugs Keith with a love potion and Lance has to endure watching his secret boyfriend being lovestruck on someone else that isn't him.]

bleusarcelle always has and always will be one of the core founders of this fandom fr. trust me when i tell u their work was THE work. i remember greedily reading every fic of theirs several time, and i still read several of them regularly. but i will always be a sucker for the secret relationship trope. and this one managed to have that trope with none of the team bashing or miscommunication garbage so it’s a banger from the get-go fr

5. When Moonlight Touches Us by @pmwrites-blog1

Branches scratched his cheeks as he ran through the woods. Out of breath and covered in mud, Lance eventually crawled back under the fence onto the school grounds. He stopped at the large fountain in the plaza, leaning heavily on it. He splashed his face to wake himself up.

It didn’t work. Keith was real.

Based on 214b's Gargoyle AU

THIS IS MY FAVOURITE VOLTRON FIC OF ALL TIME. i dont know why. i have no idea why ive latched onto this fic so specifcally, what about this fic just makes me want to reread it again and again, but if i could print this aand bind it and keep a hardcopy with me every day of my life i would. im obsessed with it. beauty and the beast who?? like this fic is everything to me. i cannot recommend it enough. im fully convinced this fic did something fundamental to my brain. nothing i write will ever be so dear to me as this fic and that’s literally okay. the stars aligned to make this fic possible. is it the fact that i know there’s pretzellus art for it and so the whole story was cemented into my brain? possibly. i truly do not know. but i am fully obsessed with this story and likely will be for infinity

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#i love all of these but im especially excited to share that last one with yall its ten billion out of ten #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #au #established klance #fluffy klance #klance au #fic rec #fic rec friday #longpost

162 notes · View notes

shutupheathersorryheatherr · 5 months

Text

“What hair product I think each svt member is”

Summery: a holiday fic that has absolutely nothing to do with the holidays! Wanted to try my hand at writing something a bit different and thought this was a good idea to start. Not really comedy but amusing none the less! (idk if what I wrote makes sense hopefully yall are picking up what I’m putting down) approximately: ten minute read

A/n: THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL IDEA! (In a way it is buuuutttt still) I can’t find the author who wrote the “what piece of furniture svt are” or something to that effect so they’re the ones who gave me the idea so if yall find them please tag them unless I do first!

warningz/info: mentions of pain, mentions of chocolate, I think what, three curse words? y'all let me know if I should start keeping them to a minimum or remove them entirely because I know some people are uncomfortable with them! I feel like the spacing between paragraphs is weird in this fic but oh well. no idea how this is gonna go over and im scared that I tagged it with "x reader". plus I dont know if anyone would read/enjoy it but I had loads of fun writing it! as always, if you did like it, please leave some love like comments and or reblogs!

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper. This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

•••••••••••••••••••

>Seungcheol<

gel. Sticks to you like glue once you find each other (romantic music starts playing in the hair care isle when you pick up your favorite gel) everyone has their preferred brand/ look they worship. Thicc. Either smells putrid and chemical like or good enough to transport you to a magical land of chocolate, pink grass and purple clouds

>Jeonghan<

he is a Bobby pin. And I will provide no further explanation on this except that he holds you together but will stab you lmao

>Shua<

an Afro pick/ hair pick. Its what everyone’s looking for: that little somen’ somen’. That little poof we all desire. Also scalp massages :)

>Jun<

wide tooth comb. My fellow thick haired/ curly haired people will know about this one 😭 this shit can be mean to your scalp tugging on your hair and UGH helps you greatly and is a necessity but damn… that’s all I gotta say

>Hoshi<

Refresher product/ moisture product. wakes you up in the morning. Gives you a reason to NOT look like you just rolled outta bed even though you did. For most this is one ofthe holy grails in life. What would I do without it? Makes us all smile even at 4:00 am because oh my god I look better after I slapped this in. Just all around a day-brightener

>Wonwoo<

curl cream. Grounding. Has many different looks n stuff

>Woozi<

a rat tail comb. Everyone should have one. Versatile, used for many different things. Good for every sort of job and is a natural to be honest and is small but mighty lol

>DK<

a satin/ silk bonnet. And no, not one of those that most moms wear with the lace trim. Those end up at the foot of your bed by the morning. The ones with the thick elastic. I choose this cause it goes by many different names, just like him lol just has that comfy homey feel to it

>Mingyu<

hair mask. Made at home with some questionable ingredients. Seriously sometimes I don’t think he’s real lol

>Hao<

a denman brush. It sounds to helpful and great. And it is great!…. When you figure out how to use it. Hard to figure out but once you get the hang of it you’ll never go back (another thing my fellow curly haired babes will understand)

>Seungkwan<

co wash. A little something extra, a boost of energy, if you will. a well kept secret but also a well known fact

>Vernon<

hair tie. Easy to loose but also easy to find. especially in places where youd think: “why the fuck would it end up here?” Like idk man, but you should definitely check the dark corner collecting lint— that’s where they always are

>Dino<

leave in conditioner because with use over time it makes your hair (you) healthier

~End~

a/n: annnnnnnnddddd thats it! hope y'all enjoyed this disaster of a fic lmao if you liked it, please leave some love like comments or reblogging!

stay safe, y'all!

taglist: @itz-yerin

42 notes · View notes

evangelionpilled · 21 days

Text

i saw someone being an idiot about proshippers so im gonna yap about my opinions on it

basically! people have lost the true definition of proship that its become a buzzword for people who like problematic shit and think it's genuinely okay, when in reality the word proship literally means pro-shipping, like you are for the act of shipping!! its an older term and newer tiktok bitches started misunderstanding it

do i think that the common "proshipper" is bad? yeah! i dont like when people ship problematic stuff and try to excuse it. but when it comes to understanding dark media and looking at problematic ships, i personally do Not care what ppl do as long as its not harming anyone irl! and yeah i know fiction can affect reality however as long as you understand that the content is in fact bad stuff and should not be replicated or glorified then idc what u do

like bitches be shipping light and L from death note despite that both of them want the other dead! that is NOT a healthy dynamic irl but theyre also really fun to think about being gay for eachother BECAUSE ITS FICTION!!!!!!

anyway thats my take if u think every single person who uses the proship label is a horrible person and should kts then please leave my page and if ur a cool proshipper who understands what it means to separate fiction and reality then hi im super cool :3 yall are safe here

#proship #proshipping #for reach >#proship dni #proshippers dni #shipping #self ship #ship #discourse #ship discourse #ship discussion #txt

9 notes · View notes

mazeinthemiroh · 2 years

Note

ur work is sosooosooooo good omg can i request a lil skz reaction if you aren’t too busy? it’s not close to valentine’s day yet but i’m in the sentimental mood, could you do their reaction to their s/o doing a big romantic gesture for them? love the fluffy vibes you give!!!!

stray kids when their s/o does something romantic for them

genre: fluff, romance

word count: 1.4k

warnings: not proofread!!

please like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

arranges a spa day. let's be real; a spa date was long awaited. if anyone deserves a little spa sesh, it's channie. he works so hard, gets himself all stressed and worked up about things. he has so many responsibilities, so many things to think about and people to take care of. so yes, when you tell him you're treating him to a spa date, he very much welcomes and appreciates the idea. its something he would consider as romantic because he needs it, and the fact that you thought he would like it makes him feel super happy.

he loves the steam room because he thinks it's so cool and he is so surprised about how much he relaxed during his session. honestly, he thought he was still going to be tense and be thinking about things. but being with you in this experience just makes him feel so much more happier. the massage treatment was his favourite, obviously. he will continue to thank you forever because his joints feel better, his shoulders feel lighter, and he just feels so much more at peace.

lee know

takes care of his cats. we all know minho worries about his dear little precious fluffy babies a whole lot. and rightly he should! they are his family and mean so much to him afterall. but on occasions where they aren't feeling well or had just had a visit to the vet for an operation or something, thats when he worries about them the most. he wants to be there and keep an eye on them to make sure they keep out of harms way and try and make them as comfy as possible, but his job doesn't allow him the same flexibility as it used to.

you decide to take it upon yourself to volunteer to look after these fluffy little creatures. you dont even bat an eye when you tell him you're staying to look after them. you don't know just how. much this gesture means to him. with you, he knows that they are in safe hands and that he doesn't have to worry as much about them. he's so forever greatful to you. your relationship with his cats are important to him anyways, so this is just the icing on the cake.

changbin

goes on a trip with him. changbin has quite a sense of responsibility, but he also has a real lust for life. he has this incurable sense that there is more to life than just: wake up, workout, got to work, sleep, and repeat. he likes exploring and experiencing new things. variety is what keeps him going. so when you say you want to take a spontaneous trip away with him, he is so down. he loves the idea of just escaping the realities of every day life and spending time with you elsewhere, to focus on you and just having fun.

his favourite trip yet has been going back to his hometown. this was actually your idea; you felt it would give him great comfort. he was able to revist some important, nostalgic places form his childhood, as well as places he took for granted at the time, now able to look at them with fresh eyes and a developed brain. he got to appreciate these things as the adult he is now, and that is something truly special.

hyunjin

paints a picture of him. hyunjin was at first shy sith his talents with art, but soon readily showed and taught you how to paint, considering your keen interest in his new hobby. he didn't realise it himself but he was a very good teacher, and you got to learn many good skills from him. and so, with these skills, you decide that you would create a beautiful masterpiece of your boyfriend, showing him that he is the perfect teacher and giving him something to convey appreciation for him.

when you finally gave him the finishing product, at long last, he teared up. there was a note that came with it: 'you are the art i see in every day life. getting to know you and the way you see the world has been such a beautiful experience. may we continue to share the world together, my dear artist.'

han

writes him a song. of all the songs he has written about you, expressing his feelings, his adoration, the articulation of his love for you through the lyrics he had written late at night, you figured it was about time you gave the same amount of effort back to him. your talented, hardworking boyfriend inspired you so much, so writing a song about him was the least you could do. you even asked for a bit of guidance from changbin and channie to perfect the song.

but writing the lyrics was easy. this song was an expression of love for him. and hell, you could go on and on about how much he meant to you; how much he had changed your life for the better. its safe to say that when you finally played him the song you write for him, he cried buckets. he had no idea you would put this much effort into a gift for him. how greatful he was for you now.

felix

completes the bucket list. felix has a bucket list his been adding things onto since he was a child. part of him didn't think he would actually complete most of those things on the list; some things were really specific, and others were super vague. but you had the idea to complete the things on his list with him. that way, he would be motivated to go and you would both make memories together.

so when he showed you his bucket list again, ideas decide to form in your head. you saw different things on it: go to disneyland, learn to ride a horse, bungee-jumping, marvel marathon, tie dye a t-shirt - clearly all very random ideas he accumalated over time. you'd surprise him one day with one of these things, perhaps starting off small and working your way up to the bigger stuff. "you really want to do all this with me?" he will questioning with a beaming smile on his face. "of course" you'll reply, not knowing how touched he felt by this.

seungmin

set up a zoom date. honestly? covid and the whole lock down situation took a massive toll on seungmin. being isolated from everyone and not being are to see his favourite people really made him feel low. he felt restrained and trapped in his own environment. but not being able to see your face everyday hurt him especially. he felt so hopeless without you, and his mood got from bad to worse. he felt like there was more of a disconnect and he was worried that his relationship with you will weaken and slowly fade away due to the circumstances.

so when you come up with the idea to a zoom date for the first time, seungmin was deeply touched. you would get dressed up for him and everything, have a little candle on the side and try to eat the same thing for dinner as if you were sharing food. he found it so adorable and his deep love for you was affirmed by your kindness and persistent love that kept him going during these difficult times.

jeongin

buys him something important. jeongin likes shopping for different bits and bobs but jn general he is very good with his money. he likes to save money for the future, but also save up to buy something expensive to treat himself after working so hard on a new comeback. it's a habit he has gotten into and he likes having that freedom to buy something meaningful and well thought out after so long. and so he has a specific item in mind that he's been saving up for and wants to buy, getting excited to purchase it when the time is right.

and that's where you come in with the idea to buy it for him instead. you know how much he has wanted this gift and you thought that it would be a grand gift to tell him how amazing he has done and how his efforts have paid off. honestly, when he sees that you have bought it for him, he is so shocked, totally stunned out of his seat and doesn't know what to do with himself at all. he would have never expected you to do this at all and he feels to loved and appreciated by you.

218 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

coldfandaze

Unbetitelt

kailikameokacapstone

Video Games & Education

noseboopsanddandelionwishes

Nose Boops and Dandelion Wishes

jordynsscribbles

Jordyn🌿 Commissions Open✨

m4yoos