#bi wenjun x reader

[princekunge]

Royal Adviser!Wenjun AU

A Birthday Post for @hunscatattoo​ | Length: 1.2K | Masterlist | Fem!Reader

The masquerade ball was one of the most exciting times of the year

Royals from across the land were invited to come to the annual event and almost no one ever missed

You were the youngest princess of the northern kingdom and had only been to the masquerade a few times before

As you and your family were busily preparing to leave, your sister was parading around the castle showing off her ostentatious dress and mask to match, boasting about how she would surely catch Prince Zeren’s eye

You thought it looked like a rainbow had thrown up on her, she would most certainly catch everyone’s eye...

You on the other hand were dressed in a dark blue velvet, which almost looked black at times, and sported a mask that mapped out the night sky in diamonds

Arriving at Prince Zeren’s castle you bounced your leg nervously in the carriage

While you were certainly looking forward to the masquerade for some reason you were feeling particularly nervous this year

A guard opened your carriage door and helped you and your sister step out into the cool evening air

Taking a deep breath you put on a smile and pushed back your anxieties

Your sister flounced off ahead of you, already on the hunt for the Prince

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you had heard the Prince was already smitten with someone else

You adjusted your mask and followed her into the castle

Most of the guests had already arrived and a few were milling about talking to one another on the fringes of the ballroom.

A good number of guests had already found partners to dance with and were spinning around the floor laughing and smiling as they moved to the music 

You spotted the Prince at the front of the ballroom talking to Prince Xinchun who you had met a few times before

However the one who really drew your eye was the person standing next to Prince Zeren slightly off to the side and keeping a keen eye on all the party goers

You didn’t recognize him, but you had a suspicion of who he was  

You had heard a lot about Royal Adviser Wenjun

Mostly from your sister’s gossiping. 

But no one had told you how handsome he was

He carried himself as if he was a prince himself, back straight and tall, head held high, and an inscrutable expression on his face

He was the only one in the room, besides the guards and servants, who wasn’t wearing a mask

You wondered why

You hadn’t realized you were staring until the man in question’s eyes caught yours and you quickly looked away, a blush staining your cheeks

Scurrying off you went to go find someone to talk to, the gaze of the royal adviser burning the back of your head

You made small talk for awhile with a few people you recognized despite the masks, but soon found yourself in a corner sipping something that tasted a lot like strawberries

The ballroom had become much more crowded and you were beginning to feel warm with all the people moving around close together

You were starting to consider making an escape outside for some fresh air

“I’m afraid that I haven’t had the pleasure of an introduction.” A voice said to your left surprising you out of your thoughts

Looking over you were even more surprised to see Royal Adviser Wenjun standing beside you, looking at you with that same inscrutable gaze

You curtsied in his direction as you introduced yourself which he returned with a bow

“I’m surprised I haven’t seen you here at the masquerade before Adviser Wenjun” You spoke up

Wenjun gave you a small smile and bowed his head. “Ah well I usually find myself busy with work. I must admit I wouldn’t even be here now if Prince Zeren hadn’t insisted I come”

“That must explain your lack of mask at this masquerade” You quipped and you could have sworn you saw his cheeks redden slightly

“Yes I am rather unprepared aren’t I” He replied his smile growing

You tried to fight back a blush

Another visiting dignitary stumbled into you and almost spilled his drink down the front of your dress, but you were pulled out of the way just in time and found yourself in the arms of Adviser Wenjun

You blinked up at Wenjun, your hands resting against his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist. That blush you were fighting now dusting your cheeks and ears

Wenjun looked down at you, eyes wide, as if he was surprised as well by his actions

He let go of your waist and you stepped back letting out an awkward laugh

“Thank you” You stuttered out grateful your dress hadn’t been ruined

“Of course” Wenjun nodded and now you were certain you saw a blush on his cheeks.

“Um would you care to walk with me in the gardens. I doubt we will have to worry about intoxicated guests throwing drinks on us” He suggested and you readily agreed following him through the throng of people and out into the garden

The cool air was a welcome change and you found yourself leaning your head back and letting out a sigh as you looked up at the night sky

The music that played in the ballroom trickled out into the night air following the two of you as you walked 

“Have you been enjoy the masquerade?” You asked Royal Adviser Wenjun

“Well if I’m being honest I think I’m enjoying it more now. I can’t say I’m particularly suited for these types of parties” Wenjun answered. “And you Miss Y/n are you enjoying the masquerade? I noticed you haven’t taken the opportunity to dance with anyone tonight.”

You smiled slyly at the royal adviser “Have you been watching me this evening Adviser Bi? I say I must have been a boring study”

This time you got a real smile from the adviser, one which took your breath away “I’m afraid you’ve caught me, but in my defense I was just curious about the prettiest girl in the ballroom”

You scoffed looking down at the glass in you hands which was almost empty “You don’t even know what I look like. How can you say that when everyone’s wearing a mask?”

“Mm my intuition. But you could always take the mask off and I can confirm what I already know”

You suddenly felt hot under the mask at the thought of him seeing your face

Wenjun raised his hands up to your face and you held your breath as his fingers brushed lightly against your cheeks

He paused for a moment as if waiting for your approval, which you gave with a slight nod of your head feeling slightly dizzy

He lifted your mask from your face and gave you another smile as he looked down on your face now free from the mask “There...just like I said, the prettiest girl at the masquerade” 

Without the mask there was no way to hide your blush now

“So Y/n, the most beautiful girl at this ball,....may I have this dance?”

[jbjsflower]

English and coffee mornings - Wenjun x Reader

Pairing: Bi Wenjun (NEX7 / IDOL PRODUCER) x Reader

Genre: Social media / text au / fluff / comedy

Warnings: none

Requested: Yes ( @yuemeii )

A/N: Okay so this is my first time doing stuff like this (social media / text au) and well, there was an attempt (?) Hopefully it was not too bad. Also it was pretty short and it took me so long to do this I’m so sorry ldskhdfg anyways hope you enjoy it.

[anzanxious]

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Nine Percent Crime Org - Bickering During A Meeting

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@kopi-and-honey my hand slipped-

[threeopossumsinacoat]

Wenjun: Hands-on

Part of the Head is spinning series

Pairing: Wenjun x reader Genre: smut, a little bit of crack

Summary: Since your first encounter a couple of weeks ago, Wenjun has been looking for a chance to get into your pants again. He seems to think in the studio while he's supposed to be helping you is the right time and place.

Warnings: Explicit language, fingering, Wenjun is a soft dom lol, semi public, "baby", "good girl" etc., vaginal sex. An obnoxious amount of innuendo. Smut begins after “keep reading”

A/n: You don’t have to read the first Wenjun part to enjoy this, but there are references to it. 

---------

Professor Wang asked you to stay after class so he could tell you that you needed to create something a person could actually eat or drink from if you wanted to pass your midterm. Wenjun smirked at you over the teacher’s shoulder as he leaned against the door jam, clutching the strap of his messenger bag. 

Since your encounter after Zhengting’s party where he destroyed your pussy and talked with you into the small hours, you two had actually become friends. He was interesting and easy to talk to, and he felt the same way about you. You’d usually chat with him after class, even go get tea or something if you both had the time. Still, he hadn’t stopped distracting you in class. Even after discovering just how lovely his hands were, you found it hard to focus, and now he was purposefully trying to distract you. He still always chose a pottery wheel directly in your line of sight after you’d gotten to class and picked your spot. He’d catch your eye and lick his lips before showing you he was undressing you with his eyes. There was no question he wanted to have you again, but he wasn’t saying it out loud. 

“You’re allowed to come in after classes and use the studio,” your professor reminds you. “You paid a materials fee, so you can come in at your convenience, just be responsible.”

“Sure,” you nod, and he turns away from you to signal that you are dismissed. You walk around him to the door. Wenjun is still waiting for you and you roll your eyes at his smug expression.

“I can help you, you know? All you have to do is ask,” he says quietly, but arrogantly. “We could meet up here tonight,” he suggests. 

“I’m sure you have better things to do with your evening,” you reply. You could actually really use his help and you’ve been thinking about asking him, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

“I do, but I don’t think this will get in the way of that,” he says, and there’s a tone to his words that makes you twist your neck to look up at him as he walks beside you but slightly behind you. You turn and stop, letting him almost run into you with just inches to spare. 

“Okay. Meet me tonight at 8?” you offer. 

“Mmm. Are you asking for my help?” he grins. 

You grit your teeth and close your eyes to keep from rolling them. “Yes. I’m asking for your help,” you say, your jaw and your lips barely moving. 

“Hm. Funny. I didn’t actually hear you ask…”

You swallow. “Bi Wenjun, will you please help me with my ceramics project?” you ask flatly. 

He tongues the inside of his cheek and makes an expression like he’s considering it. “It doesn’t sound like you need my help that badly.” He shrugs. 

Fuck. You just remembered how much he likes it when you beg. You hang your head and sigh. Then you lift your gaze back up to him, your eyes softer now, batting your eyelashes, playing his game. You touch your hand to the one he still has clenched around the strap of his bag, while your other hand lays flat on his chest. 

“Wenjun, I really need your help with my project.” Your voice is as soft as your eyes and your hands. “You’re the best in class, and I really need to pass. Can you meet me tonight?”

He huffs and bites his lips as he looks straight down on you. “Yeah. Sure, I can help you, Y/n. Does 8 work for you?”

“Yep. See you later,” you say abruptly and walk away quickly, leaving him smiling to himself. 

Wenjun is already in the studio when you arrive just before eight. By the looks of it, he’s been there for a little while. He’s making a vase that’s getting frighteningly tall, with his thin arm reaching deep inside. 

“I’m almost finished,” he says quietly without looking up when he hears the door close. “Go ahead and start setting up.” He nods to the pottery wheel beside him. 

“Why are you even in this class?” you ask as you watch him put the finishing touches on the elegant vase. You’ve been meaning to ask but you always get distracted.

“It’s just a credits thing. I convinced a previous professor to let me into higher level classes without the prerequisite, but now my advisor says I need this class to graduate,” he explains without taking his eyes off his work.

“Oh. That sucks.” You get a couple of balls of clay and a sponge and some other tools before sitting next to him. 

Wenjun pulls his hands away from the clay and lets the wheel slowly come to a stop. He shrugs. “It’s not that bad. I mean, I was actually dreading it, but now I get to bother you a couple times a week, so it’s not that bad,” he smiles and you roll your eyes. “Can you start centering that clay or do you need help?” he asks condescendingly but only to tease you. 

“I got it,” you grumble and wet the wheel and your hands before thumping the clay down in the center. Wenjun removes his vase and takes it away while you begin to wet the clay and center it in your hands. You focus on the feel of it between your hands and getting the right slickness and you move the clay up and down. 

“Get close,” Wenjun tells you, suddenly coming down on the bench right behind you and pushing you forward without warning. “It’s easier if you get your arms in and brace them against your body,” he says right in your ear, tucking your arms in by placing his outside of them.

You’re so stunned by how quickly he snuck up on you, you start to forget what your body is doing and your foot on the peddle. 

“Keep it spinning,” he says quietly, his breath against the back of your ear, making you shiver.

You clear your throat and twist your body so you can look at him. “I thought you were just going to demonstrate.”

“You’ve been watching me for a month and a half, and you haven’t learned a thing. I thought it was time for a more hands on approach.” He leans over to get some water to drip on your clay and smiles charmingly at you while your eyes follow him incredulously. “Come on.”

You sigh and face forward again, wetting your hands and placing them back on the clay. He places his hands over yours and you hope he doesn’t notice the chill that it gives you, but he does. 

“The key to making the clay do what you want is firmness,” he says as he presses his hands down on yours to guide them. “But you have to be gentle,” he whispers. 

You knew this was a bad idea. You know he’s not going to let up on his suggestions and innuendos, so you buckle in for the ride. 

“Use two fingers like this,” he says, demonstrating, and you follow his lead. He leans over you into the water bucket. “Gotta make sure you’re wet enough,” he says, dripping water over your hands and clay again. He holds back a chuckle as you sigh. “Okay, now let’s work on your hole.”

“Wenjun! I just need a couple of bowls!” you cry, unable to take it.

“I know! And to make a bowl we need to make a hole!” he smiles.

“Can you be serious, please? We can get this done in like thirty minutes and then we can go to your place, if you want. But please, can we get this done?” you whine.

“I’m trying to help. You’re the one holding up this process. Don’t you stop that wheel to pout at me, princess,” he says when you twist to look at him again. 

You huff and press your foot to the peddle again and wet your hand. 

“Damn. You’re so bratty tonight. Definitely going to have to punish you,” he says, so close his lips brush your ear.

“Wenjun!” you yell.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll shut up,” he mumbles. He does for the most part, but he still gives you some instructions in that soft tone he has. He can’t entirely help the double entendres that spill from his lips. He didn’t make pottery sexy. He’s just capitalizing on it. And he’s still got his body wrapped around you and his hands over yours as he guides you through the process. 

“Good,” he smiles at you when you have a very ordinary looking bowl. If you can make another one just like it, it will be enough to pass your midterm. “Now try it on your own,” he says as he stands, suddenly taking away his warmth and support, leaving you feeling a bit like a slug without a shell while he carries it away to sit for a few minutes. 

You get started on your next bowl and try not to rush, but you also want to get as far with it as possible before he comes back and does god knows what to drive you crazy. You hear him washing his hands and feel a sense of relief that he may actually leave you be. He comes back and stands beside you, watching over your work with his arms crossed non threateningly across his chest. He gives you subtle reminders, and you’re done within a matter of minutes. 

“I want to do one more,” you tell him after you place your bowl beside the first one. “But I think I’ve got it now, so you don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to,” you tell him. 

Wenjun shrugs. “I’ll stay.” 

He goes and cleans up his station while you get started on your next piece of clay. You’re focused and concentrating on what you’re doing, so he’s able to sneak up on you once more. He sits behind you once again, but this time, instead of putting his hands on yours he sets them on your thighs. 

“Wenjun, I said I got this,” you tell him quietly. 

“You’re doing great,” he agrees as his hands rub into your inner thighs. 

“Wenjun,” you complain as you’re trying to pull up the wall of your bowl.

“Shh, you’re almost done. Don’t stop,” he whispers as his hands slip over your crotch. You can’t help the way your head falls back at his touch. “Careful. You’re going to lose it and have to start all over if you don’t pay attention,” he says against your neck. You groan. “Focus,” he says before nibbling on your earlobe.

His hand comes up to your stomach and slips under your shirt to caress your skin before he slides under the elastic waistband of your yoga pants. 

“Wenjun, damn it,” you hiss as his cool fingers reach down to your clit and tease you. 

He hushes you. “You’re so close.” 

And you really are so you focus as best you can for the next minute to finish the bowl and keep it from going lopsided while he rubs circles of your poor needy clit. You decide it’s good enough and let the wheel slowly come to a stop. 

“Y/n,” he says, like he’s about to tell you what you’re going wrong. 

“It’s a bowl. Shut up and don’t stop,” you gasp. 

Wenjun chuckles against the nape of your neck and uses his other hand to grab underneath your thigh to slide his legs under yours and lean your back against his chest. He moves his mouth to the other side of your neck and sucks at the tender part of your shoulder. Now his fingers have more access to you and he’s able to hook them and slip them inside your slick hole so he can reach your favorite spot. 

“You bastard, you’ve been planning this, haven’t you?” you mutter when you want to moan. 

“Fuck yeah. I’ve been sitting here distracting you until you fail so I’d have a chance to get you here,” he says in a tone that makes unsure whether or not he’s kidding. It’s entirely possible he’s played this fantasy out in his head before.

“Fuck,” you whine as he touches you just right. “At least you let me finish first.” Your eyes glance down to your perfectly adequate bowl. 

“Oh, baby, you’re nowhere near finished yet,” he growls in your ear, ironically carrying you toward your climax. 

You’d love to continue this banter with him, but you can’t form words anymore. He’s rubbing with just the right firmness over your bundle of nerves and all you can do is whine. Without realizing it, you’re holding back for him, but he can tell by the way your hips have stopped jerking as you try to hold yourself rigid.

“Come for me, baby girl,” he whispers with his lips against your ear again, and you let go. 

He slides his finger into you once more to feel the way you clench around him. When your pulsing slows he pulls his hand out of your pants and licks his fingers as he stands slowly, sliding you off of his thighs in the process. You turn your head to look up at him when your butt hits the bench, giving him a dopey grin. Your fingers reach for the button of his jeans. 

“Nuh uh,” he says, swatting your hands away. “We’re not done yet. We have to glaze these pieces and get them into the kiln.”

“But-” your words are stopped by his hand grabbing you by the jaw. He bends down to bring his face to yours. 

“If you’re a very good girl, I’ll take you home and fuck you properly, but for now there’s still work to be done,” he tells you in a low voice before letting you go and walking away. 

It’s really annoying the way he got you revved up like that only to leave you cold, but he’s right. There’s a thick layer of dried clay on your hands that you’ve entirely forgotten about. You clear your throat and stand to carry your last bowl over to the others. He prepares the glaze while you wash your hands thoroughly and then he helps you apply it. He’s very thorough and responsible in all the steps, his mind not at all clouded by getting you off. You get the pieces in the kiln and start it up. He makes sure you leave the room in tip top shape before he slings his bag over his shoulder and says, “lets go.”

“Hey, you two,” you hear behind you as you walk quickly down the hallway. Wenjun doesn’t seem to be in a rush, but you have to do double time to keep up with his long ass legs. You both come to a screeching halt and turn slowly to look at Professor Wang.

“Hi, professor,” you say quietly. 

“Did you get some work done?” he asks with a smile, to which you simply nod. “With Wenjun’s help?”

“Um, yeah. I hope that’s okay,” you try to say in a normal voice. 

“Sure. Wenjun’s an expert. I’ll look forward to your pieces,” he smiles broadly. “I trust you cleaned up the studio.”

“Yes, sir,” Wenjun says with a curt nod. 

“Alright then, you two get out of here. See you next week,” he tells you. 

You tug on Wenjun’s arm, unable to leave fast enough now. He leads you to the garage where his car is parked. Of course it’s foreign, sleek and impeccably clean. You giggle to yourself in the front seat as he pulls onto the main road to drive you to his apartment.

“What?” he wonders, glancing at you for a fraction of a second, your face illuminated by yellow street lights as you pass by. 

“ ‘Yes, sir,’ ” you giggle again. It was funny to see him be so formal and respectful to the teacher when he was so filthy sometimes with you. 

Wenjun puts his hand on your thigh and squeezes. “Hey, do you want me to take you home?” he says in a harsh tone, like it’s your punishment. You remember that he’ll only take you to his place if you’re a very good girl. You bite your lips together and shake your head. “Are you being disrespectful?” 

“No, sir,” you say, and fight a smile.  

“Good girl,” he replies, kneading his fingers deeper into your thigh as he drives. 

It’s a short trip to his apartment by car. You rub your legs together, trying to contain your impatience as he gathers his things from his car and then leads you to his apartment. It takes all your self control not to rip your clothes off the moment you’re inside. You take off your shoes by the door like he does and set your bag gently on a chair in the living room, keeping your movements deliberately slow to maintain a sense of calm. Wenjun walks to his bedroom and disappears, leaving you waiting for instructions. 

“Are you coming?” he asks, poking his head around the door frame. It takes all you have not to run into his room. 

"Thank you for helping me today," you say as you walk into his room where he's hanging up his jacket in his closet. "I appreciate your time."

He closes the door and turns back to you, reaching a hand out to stroke under your jaw to make you look up at him (as if you're not always looking up at him). "Don't worry. You're going to make it up to me."

"How?" you ask with a smile.

Wenjun hums while he ponders. He weaves his long fingers into the hair at the back of your head and leans down to meet you in a kiss. He stops the kiss to turn you around. He pushes you toward the bed but keeps you from getting on it. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head slowly as you raise your arms. They brush your skin as he moves your hair to one side so he can attach his mouth to your shoulder while he unclasps your bra. It falls to the floor with a light sound, accenting the sound of the soft moans he brings out of you with his hands gently massaging your breasts while he sucks on the soft flesh of your shoulder, making a mark. You reach your hands over your head to run your fingers through his hair, desperate to have a hold on him. One hand remains on your chest to pull you close against him while his other hand travels down your stomach and under your waistband once again to feel your heat. 

“Mm, still wet for me. Good girl,” he praises. He brings his hand up and lets you suck on his fingers. Just as you begin to lose yourself in it, he takes his fingers from your lips and pushes you more forcefully than normal onto his bed so you land on your hands. When he smacks your ass you lift your knees up to the bed so you’re on all fours. You shake your ass for him a little and hear the zipper on his jeans. 

“Fuck yes, baby. I love the way those pants stretch over your ass,” he says in a gravelly voice, and you look back to see him stroking himself while he works to pull his jeans off his feet. “I almost hate to see them go,” he murmurs as he hooks the fingers of his other hand under the elastic. 

He pulls it down very slowly, revealing you bit by bit until he can see your dripping entrance and you hear him moan very quietly. You help him get them off your knees, but after that he gives a harsh tug that throws you off your balance and has you laughing as you fall over onto the bed. He doesn’t give you time to recover before his hands grip your hips and pull you to the edge of the bed. The fingers of one hand are digging into your ass cheek, keeping your hips up and your pussy spread for him. He bends at the waist to dip his tongue into your delicious juices, making a sound to tell you how much he enjoys the flavor. His other hand continues to stroke his long member. He teases your yearning pussy by licking a few long stripes from your clit to your hole, making you jerk at the sensitivity. Soon though he needs more. Wenjun leans over and extends his long thin arm to open the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a condom. 

“Are those the ribbed ones?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Yep. That’s all I’ve got,” he tells you as he opens the package. 

“Fuck, Wenjun,” you whine. “That’s really not necessary.”

“You know you love getting destroyed by my cock,” he smiles as he slips the condom over his length. 

“Fuck. Yeah. That’s kind of my point,” you moan in the anticipation. 

He hushes you and gives you another light smack on the ass, causing you to lift your hips up a little. “Just be a good girl and take what I give you,” he says quietly as he lines himself up at your soaked slit. 

He gives it to you slowly at first, but you’re so wet for him he can’t help but slip in.

“That’s half,” he tells you as you let out a whimper. 

You can’t tell if he’s trying to brag or inform you. You mutter a barely audible “fuck.” 

“You want more, princess?” he asks, and you know he’s smiling. 

“Yes,” you groan pathetically. 

He pulls out just a little and pushes deeper into you. “That’s three quarters.” You let out a whine and try to rut onto him. “You think you can take all of me, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, please,” you plead.

“Okay, baby,” he grins and pulls back to plunge all the way into your cavern. “You okay, baby?”

“Yes, daddy. Thank you,” you cry. 

“God, you take my cock so well,” Wenjun moans into you as he thrusts. 

The way he stretches your entrance and reaches up to your cervix does wild things to you, while the bumps of the ribbed condom rubbing against your walls makes you entirely unable to speak. Nothing but cries, no longer moan, escape your throat. You can’t even hold yourself up on your arms anymore and let your face fall to the soft comforter below you. He grabs your wrists and pulls you up toward him, your shoulder blade against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you. His lips are at your ear again. 

“I didn’t want to fuck you at school because I knew you’d scream,” he purrs in your ear. 

He’s not giving you full strokes anymore, but he’s giving you just the right about to hit your sweet spot every time and elicit the aforementioned screams. 

“Fuck, daddy!” you bleat, barely able to breath as he rubs against your walls. He turns your head to crush his lips against yours as you come all around him, adding to your wetness. 

He releases his hold on you and lets you fall limply to the bed. He pulls out of you and flips you over by your leg. He pulls your butt to the edge of the bed and teases your gaping hole with the head of his cock, pushing your juices up to your clit. 

“You want your cock again?” he asked as you moan quietly. 

“Yes, sir,” you smile. 

“Oh, <i>fuck</i>,” he breathes just before pushing into you again. “You look so pretty wrapped around me, baby,” he husks as he thrusts slowly in and out of you. 

“You like fucking me, daddy?” you ask in a sweet voice, slightly more used to his size now. 

“Oh, baby, I love your sweet pussy,” he cooes. “It’s like magic.” 

He’s starting to unravel a bit himself, a little bit of his toughness chipping away as he becomes weak for you. He leans over you to rub his hand over your stomach. He gropes your breast and teases your nipple with his thumb. He lowers his head down to take your other nipple into his mouth, pressing your legs back in the process and reaching deeper inside of you. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about fucking you,” he confesses, a slight whine to his voice, as your fingers slip into his hair and hold him to your breast. 

He lifts up with a grunt and begins thrusting his hips faster. His thumb presses firm circles over your sensitive clit. He smiles at the sound of your moans and the jerking of your hips. He comes before you, but he doesn’t stop teasing you until your throbbing walls are milking every drop from him. He falls onto you and pushes you up the bed, cuddling you like a koala. 

“I thought you didn’t cuddle,” you say after a minute in which he’s wrapped around you and still inside of you. 

“Shh,” he hushes and buries his head into the crook of your neck. Finally he pulls away slightly to look at you. “So, three times, does that make me special?” he asks. 

You fall away from him in an uproar of laughter. He slips out of you as you roll onto your back. He props himself up on his elbow, still waiting for an answer. You take in the cute way his hair has fallen over his forehead before giving him one. 

“Special-er,” you grin, “but still not unheard of.”

“Fine. We’ll just have to try for four next time,” he sighs tiredly and drags himself off to the bathroom to wash up. You begin gathering your clothes and putting them on. “You don’t have to go. You can stay here,” he tells you when he returns, tugging at the shirt in your hands, your last piece of clothing. 

You pull it away gently and slip in over your head. “No, I really shouldn’t,” you tell him. You go to the door to find your shoes while he sighs. 

“Hold on, I’ll drive you.”

He dresses quickly and you go out to his car. Again, it’s not a very long trip in his sleek automobile. He parks in front of your building when you tell him to stop. As you reach for the handle he reaches for your hand and grips it tight. 

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asks.

You sit back in your seat and look up at him slowly. “Wenjun, please don’t go catching feelings for me,” you beg, but in a way that’s not at all whiny. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

He smiles and looks at the steering while. “And I’m not that kind of guy. I just like having fun with you.”

“Me too. Let’s keep it that way.” He sighs and you lean into his ear. “It will be more fun the longer I make you wait.” You peck a kiss onto his cheek and open the door. “Goodnight,” you call over your shoulder before the door closes.

A/N: did I watch YouTube tutorials about throwing pottery to write this chapter? Yes, I did. Was it satisfying? Yes, it was. Sorry this is long(?). I don't know, just seems like he would enjoy taking his time playing with you.

[xxdreaminadream]

ZHU ZHENGTING SCENARIO PLEASE🙏🏼❤️ I WILL LOVE YOU EVEN MORE (also a bi wenjun if you can❤️ he totally bias wrecks me along with zeren, justin, chengcheng, quanzhe and xinchun) as you can see I can't stay loyal to my bias and got a ton of bias wreckers😊😅 the whole group specifically🙃

a/n: nex7 are tHAT powerful that they just!! biaswreck you all the time!! i hope you’ll like it hehe

pairing: zhu zhengting x reader

genre: fluff

trigger warnings: a bit suggest i v e

                                      zhu zhengting - shirt

it was almost noon, you had just woken up. as you entered the living room, still half asleep, you heard your boyfriend, zhengting, with his sweet, soothing voice almost barking at you.

- is that my shirt? i searched it for the whole morning! you gotta be kidding me!

you mindlessly looked at him, and sat next to him.

- and you’re not even answering? you stole my shirt. you deserve to die or something like that.

you stupidly smiled at him, wondering how could someone be so worked up because their significant other was wearing his shirt.

- why are you smiling? does my pain make you laugh?

you laughed silently, and looked at his beautiful features while he was trying not to laugh.

- you know, i had to spend the whole morning shirtless, he said with a little smirk. shirtless. so obviously, after a while, so… he acted as if he was thinking, as if he had a brain. after 2 hours, i decided to take one of your hoodies. and guess what?

- tell me about your problems baby, you said while trying not to laugh, slightly making fun of him.

- when i was searching in your closet for a hoodie, i found the one i had lost since 2 months! you’re nothing more than a filthy little thief!

you bursted out laughing after he said that.

- but you told me that i could keep it! if i’m a filthy little thief, as you say, then you are a disgusting liar, you said while putting your elbow against the back of the couch, still foolishly smiling at him.

he smiled softly, before regaining his seriousness.

- i feel like we’re moving away from the original subject, y/n. he said as he turned his head to face you.

- are we, zhengting? you asked, amused.

- yes. so… why did you steal my shirt? he asked, smirking.

your faces were only a few inches apart, and you could feel his hot breath against your skin, which distracted you slightly.

after a little moment, you got closer to his face and whispered quietly in his ear.

- i stole your shirt because last night, my clothes seemed so ugly to you that you threw them across the room, and i can’t find them back, fucker, you said before smacking his head and stepping back a bit while giggling.

he laughed while rubbing his head, then he put his head on your lap.

- you know… everyone has needs sweetheart, he stated, as he was looking at you, somehow still smirking. but my shirt looks really good on you… he told you while he was playing with one end of the fabric, may i say.

- your needs and your compliments won’t exempt you from helping me find my clothes, you told him, as you were tracing the contours of his face. but well played. you said with a smile before leaning down to kiss him.

[cosmichengcheng]

hushed > bi wenjun x reader college!social media au

turns out there’s more than just academic lessons to be learnt at university.

teaser. [next]

[xukunstellation]

Assassin (Part 1) || Fan Chengcheng

Title: Assassin Pairing: Female!Reader x Chengcheng Genre: Agent!AU + Mafia!AU + Action Word Count: 1061 words Summary: Your mission is to eliminate the son of the most notorious gang in all of China: Fan Chengcheng. However, you come to realize that Chengcheng is no easy target. Warning: mentions of violence and guns, though no one actually dies or gets seriously hurt in this. i tried not to make this too explicit bc Chengcheng is still a minor. please do not read this if you are sensitive to any of this mentioned!

A/N: The amount of enjoyment and fun I’ve had writing this is unreal. I normally stick to writing fluff and angst, so it was a breath of fresh air to try something new and write an action genre scenario. As you can see, I had a little too much fun considering I had to split this up into two parts since it was getting way too long.

I ended up writing the reader as female simply because I was inspired by the Agent J performance and the dynamic between Jieqiong and Chengcheng in that stage. Feel free to message me if you wish for me to make the reader non-female.

Bless the anon who requested this. I hope this lives up to your expectations! 

Part 2

i’m so excited to write this

fan chengcheng in a suit? in a mafia au??

sign me the fuck up

annnnnnd start

so you’re a secret spy working under one of the most prestigious agencies in the espionage world

your agency primarily focused on bringing justice to high profile criminals and putting them behind bars via finding information about them; another sector of your agency were specially trained assassins sent to take out the really dangerous criminals 

you have a reputation for being at the top of your sector

due to your advanced tracking and communication skills, you were usually sent on missions that require you to go undercover and gain information from the enemy or opposite side

per protocol, you were pretty well versed in hand-to-hand combat as well

to your surprise, you were assigned a completely different mission than what you usually did

your boss explained to you about a gang called yuehua who were notorious for performing a multitude of illegal activities, usually grand-scale theft in order to sell for higher prices on the black market. they would go as far as killing others or making them go missing to hide their traces

there have been several reports that yuehua were planning on infiltrating your agency in order to gain information for their future endeavors

and who was the one who knew what and where information was held in the agency?

yep that’s right

you

luckily you were good at keeping an extremely low profile on your missions so no one outside of your agency knew of your spy background

the mission was simple: eliminate the yuehua members one by one and without a trace before they can get to the agency

just to be safe and throw off your identity as a tracker, your boss decided to place you on the assassin sector of the mission, meaning you as well as the rest of your team were in charge of taking out the yuehua members

it probably would have made more sense to make you go into hiding, but your tracking skills were desperately needed by the agency

look at you taking one for the team

you found out that several members of yuehua were to attend a special masquerade banquet held by some elite family

being the agent with the most experience, you were in charge and assigned each member of your team a yuehua boy that went as followed:

yanjun → zhu zhengting, chaoze → ding zeren, dinghao  →  huang xinchun, zhangjing → li quanzhe, honglin → huang justin, maotong → bi wenjun

the yuehua member you were assigned?

none other than the son of the head of yuehua himself

fan chengcheng

handsome, clever, charming, and extremely dangerous

he was known to seduce females only to make them go bankrupt as his gang members stole all of their assets behind the scenes

you figured you would give him a taste of his own medicine

your disguise had you all dolled up from head to toe in an elegant hairstyle and a sexy black dress that accentuated your looks beautifully. the outfit was paired with a silver laced mask that covered nearly half your face, keeping your identity somewhat safely hidden. for extra caution, you wore black silk gloves so you wouldn’t leave any traces of fingerprints behind

you were sure to get some looks because damn you lookin like a whole snack

but all you cared about was catching the attention of fan chengcheng

while yanjun distracted security, you managed to slip your way into the party without being seen. walking around, you did your best to blend in with the crowd as you scanned the area 

target sighted

from across the room, you saw chengcheng looking dashing in a classic black and white tuxedo matched with a gold jeweled mask, helping himself to a generous amount of finger foods at the catering table. you knew it was him by the yuehua tattoo on his wrist that appeared whenever he raised his hand high enough

you almost lost your composure when you nearly laughed at how stuffed his cheeks were. if it weren’t for who he is and what your mission was, you would have thought he was cute

you waited until he was done eating before waltzing over to him and tapping his shoulder, catching his attention as he looked at you with vague interest

“hello. would you care to dance?” you smiled charmingly

“who am i to deny a beautiful lady’s request?” he replied, returning your smile with a slight smirk

taking your hand, he led you to the center of the dance floor. the music picked up and changed from the typical waltz to something reminiscent of a tango. chengcheng grinned at you before strongly pulling you closer so that you both were chest to chest just as a traditional tango dance would have. 

not wanting to back down, you merely grinned back before wrapping your right leg around his left leg and twisting your body back sharply, causing him to dip you down lowly with your faces a mere few inches apart as you stared intensely at each other

everyone literally cleared the entire floor for y’all 

they were shookth bc things were getting spicy between you two hot damn

you quickly spun your way out of his arms, him catching your hand at the last second and pulling you back into his embrace, the two of you gliding on the marble floor with ease. during one particular part of the song, the music slowed and lowered to a suspenseful melody. falling into step, you and chengcheng slowly walked around in a circle, neither of you breaking eye contact with each other

you felt something lingering in the air between you both, a feeling you couldn’t quite put into words. it encased you both entirely, making it feel as if you two were the only ones in the room.

when the music finally sped up and reached its climax, all of a sudden there was a loud pop as white smoke began to fill the air. soon, the sounds of yelling and fighting erupted in the room followed by screaming

knowing that the mission was going according to plan (zhangjing set off harmless smoke bombs as a diversion), you feigned fear and began pulling chengcheng away and out of the room

[forever-firewalking]

to chart a course by the stars | Bi Wenjun

In your life, there’s no such thing as before and after sunrise, only before Bi Wenjun, and after Bi Wenjun.

Title: To Chart a Course By the Stars (part i) Pairing: Bi Wenjun x reader Characters: OC (reader), Bi Wenjun Concept/prompt: “Can I request one in which the reader has a bad habit of sleeping late, and Wenjun's concerned and trying to break that habit?” 

I. Allegro.

It’s 5am and the birds outside your window have started squawking.

These birds don’t trill gently or warble in minor arpeggios, nor do they do that gradual, gentle crescendo that’s meant to salute the rising sun or whatever. No, these ones squawk. You peek outside your curtains. The gentle fingers of reddish dawn have started to creep up into the darkness between the twinkling stars, which already seem dimmer in comparison to the imminent sunrise.

Okay. Time to sleep, you guess. You have 9am class, and you promised Wenjun you’d meet him to compare homework answers before that, but it still seems like you’re admitting defeat to go to bed before you’ve finished your work.

Wenjun sees you first, but his smile disappears when he approaches you at your locker. “Y/N, when did you sleep last night?”

“3am,” you say, pulling out your music folder. “Can I check what you got for 4(d)?”

He chews on his lip, frowns a little. “You have dark circles,” he says softly. “You look exhausted.”

“Well, no shit,” you snap, irritable. it’s cold and your head aches. “If only classical music theory came naturally to us all.

He sighs and you feel guilty immediately, but before you manage to apologise, he’s already taken the folder from your hands and flipped to the correct page. He settles in by your side, sitting back against the lockers, a warm, reassuring weight. You press closer for the warmth.

“Mm, here,” he says, and you both lean in, your heads together, and it’s all forgotten for now.

II. Adagio.

This was you, before Bi Wenjun:

You were in your final year, and college applications were looming.

You were terribly busy. you were the loud, spirited, popular one, life of every party. Female lead in the school musical, captain of the soccer team, first desk flute in school orchestra, baking cookies for charity.

Things were a bit off because you’re quickly realising that high school was ending and that what you enjoyed doing was perhaps different from where life and your parents were nudging you.

You enjoyed people, you liked volunteering your time, making people smile, performing, you chase that adrenaline high, you were restless, you didn’t like sitting still.

You had that contract in your hand, from that agency you interviewed with secretly after the nice lady came to find you after the last night of your show. Your parents didn’t know.

You visited the agency building once, for your interview, and that’s also when they showed you around all the practice rooms and studios. You’d peeked into a few rooms: a music room, where a tall boy sang, eyes closed, perfectly, through E minor arpeggio, a dance studio, full of boys and girls younger than you, calmly working their way through a synchronised ballet routine.

It looked nothing like the messy, wild, impulsive way you lived your life then. So the contract was still at the bottom of your schoolbag, unsigned. You carried it with you everywhere you went.

You knew your limits. You weren’t born with any particular talent or genius, you knew that. Your successes were from the time you put in, from the enjoyment and the laughter and the fun you had in what you do. (This was clearly reflected in your grades—every year, your teachers wrote, “she has great potential”, meaning, she would do better if she worked harder). You also felt the weight of your parents’ gaze upon you. You, the eldest child of three. You, daughter of a father who’d had a stroke not six months ago. You, who dutifully collected the mail every evening when you trudged home from school, carefully sorting it into thick stacks of various overdue household bills. In contrast, your manila envelope from Yuehua Entertainment seemed pathetically thin.

III. Minuet.

January, senior year. You’d sent off applications to a dozen or so colleges, for liberal arts degrees in the humanities. Your parents were mollified, you guessed, but everything still lay contingent on your final exams.

You weren’t really an exam person.

Studying made you feel soulless, and you didn’t seem to be able to learn intuitively, gracefully, you seemed to require brute force and sheer bloody determination to drill things into your head.

It’s okay though, you knew you weren’t stupid. You weren’t. You just needed to put more time in, maybe a bit more than the average person.

At your 7am soccer practices, the frosted grass and pre-sunrise darkness seemed chillier and darker than they did at the same time last year. You found yourself resting your eyes during orchestra rehearsal, when the conductor was busy drilling the string section.

“Um, Y/N?” A warm hand landed on your knee, fingers tapping lightly. You jolted awake, just in time.

“Y/N!” barked the orchestra conductor. “Your solo, from the downbeat in Section D, with strings, 1 and 2 and 3 and—“

You played, and after the conductor was satisfied, you turned to the second desk flute player. You’d never really talked to him much, him not being very chatty, and you likewise at 8am in the morning. His name was Bi Wenjun, you thought? It was his first year being on second desk, so he must have been an underclassman, although he looked kind of familiar: soft sweep of brown hair, sunshine smiling through his eyes like a shot of caffeine, straight to the heart.

“Dude, thanks so much,” you said, flashing him a smile. “Saved me from another lecture like last week’s.”

He laughed softly, brown eyes sparkling. “I don’t know, I think you escaped pretty well last week. ‘Mr Zhang, I wasn’t asleep, I was just visualising the notes with my eyes closed!’”

His imitation of your voice surprised a laugh out of you. “I don’t sound like that!”

He only offered you a little crooked smile in response, and you couldn’t reply because Mr Zhang had just cued the woodwinds again. The entire time you were playing, you thought of Wenjun’s smile, and you listened to the way the second flute’s notes twined around your solo part. You’d never noticed it before, but now it couldn’t have been clearer. continued.

[princekunge]

✨ Masterlist ✨

WAYV

College AU Series: Operation YIAD 📱

The Muse - Xiaojun

friends to lovers | Yangyang is convinced his two friends are actually in love with each other and goes to great lengths to get them together | 25 Parts

The Lab Partner - Yangyang

enemies to lovers | Yangyang gets paired up as lab partners with someone who has vowed to hate him forever, bets are made on who will crack first | 27 Parts

The Librarian - Lucas

puppy love | Lucas falls in love after spending a drunken night on a strangers couch but now he’s just got to get her to fall for him | 25 Parts

The Singer - Hendery

colleagues to lovers | Local punk rock band The Vision is in desperate need of a new drummer. Hendery is out to get the part and may just fall in love in the process | 37 Parts

The Critic - Ten

secret crush | Ten might be a little bit in love with the local theater critic who always seems to love his performances, but there’s only one problem - he has no idea who it is. | 29 Parts

The Rival - Kun

enemies to lovers | Yangyang believes that Kun is too uptight and needs to chill out, his solution? Operation Get Kun Laid. Kun just wants Yangyang to stop meddling in his friends affairs for five minutes. In an attempt to escape Yangyang’s meddling Kun applies for a local internship, but quickly discovers the only other spot is taken by the student body President, also known as his academic rival. | Ongoing

Sicheng

Coming Soon

Which Y/n Are You UQuiz

WayV Murder Mystery

You are invited to WeishenV Mansion as the lead detective on the case of the high profile murder. Interview suspects, examine evidence and try to catch the killer before you become the next victim | Start Here | choose your own adventure | ongoing

Kun

Vampire!Kun | Blurb | fem!reader

NCT

Taeyong

Betting on Boredom

taeyong x original character | college au | enemies to lovers | length: 42k, 16 Chapters | ongoing

Stray Kids

Chan

The Lost Ones

chan x original character | gang au | fake relationship | length: 52K, 19 Chapters | ongoing

Seventeen

Seungcheol

Can’t Stand the Rain | Robot AU, Angst

Pentagon

Kino

Glimmer | Mermaid!Kino x Fem!reader

NEX7/NEXT

Ding Zeren

Running into Fate | Prince!Zeren | Royal AU Series 👑

Bi Wenjun

The Masquerade | Royal Adviser!Wenjun | Royal AU Series 👑

Zhu Zhengting

Fan Chengcheng

Huang Xinchun

Justin Huang

Masked Secrets | Guard!Justin | Royal AU Series 👑

Li Quanzhe

Wang Yibo

Among the Thorns

florist/skater!yibo | coming eventually...

Cai Xukun

[2:38 pm] | Blurb

[threeopossumsinacoat]

Wenjun

Part of the Head is Spinning series

Roles: ceramics student! Wenjun x female reader

genre: SMUT (begins after the “keep reading”)

Warnings: explicit language, oral sex (both receiving), sex, a little daddy kink (names like daddy, baby girl, princes, etc.), hand kink (lol), size kink, fingering, light alcohol consumption, smoking

Summary: You and Wenjun have been watching each other for a while, and you finally get the chance to act on your fantasies.

Word count: 4k+ (idk why it’s so long, but it’s worth it?)

------------------------

Bi Wenjun is in your ceramics class. He’s pretty quiet, always very focused on bringing the perfect shape to the wet clay circling between his fingers. Somehow, he always ends up sitting right in your line of sight whenever you are at the pottery wheel. The time you spent thinking about his long thin fingers being pressed into you left you trying to convince your professor that your projects were meant to be representational, not functional. But you struggled for an answer when he asked what they were supposed to represent. My desire you thought. You always left ceramics class a little wet and wanting after watching Wenjun work with his hands. You wanted nothing more than to watch his hands work on you. You’d had more than one Ghost fantasy while you touched yourself in bed on Thursday nights, after you’d usually worked on projects in that class.

You try to ignore your fantasies as you look at Wenjun across Zhengting’s apartment. He’s got a glass of white wine clutched in the delicate hand. You always try hard to ignore his face, because even though thinking about him burying those long fingers in your core makes you breathe heavy, looking at his actual face makes you practically unable to breathe at all. Still, you can’t stop your eyes from drifting up when he raises the glass to his lips for a sip. Your eyes linger there even when he’s had enough. You’re too busy watching his tongue slip out between his heart-shaped lips to notice that he’s looking right at you when he does it. You’d blush if you realized how observant Bi Wenjun really is.

Zhengting follows Wenjun’s line of sight straight to you and waves you over. It was a mark of just how detached from each other you two really are that he’s ready to serve you up to Wenjun on a silver platter. Zhengting is definitely looking to fuck tonight, but he has his eye on a sophomore painting student, although he would definitely take you tonight if he was desperate. But that doesn’t mean he would try to stop you from hooking up with someone else. He’s not a dick.

You pick up on Zhengting’s not-at-all subtle signal and walk your way around the perimeter of his living room to where the pair are standing. You thought Zhengting was tall, towering over you as he did, but Wenjun is a fucking monster, and you can’t help but wonder if all of his body is as exaggeratedly long as his legs and his fingers.

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to push back thoughts of Wenjun’s length.

“Hey, Y/N, this is Wenjun. Wenjun, Y/N,” Zhengting says, gesturing between you two. He knows for sure you’ve never slept together, because Zhengting knows about all the complicated connections in the art department. It’s his favorite flavor of tea.

“Hi, Wenjun, nice to finally meet you,” you say as your hand touches his for the first time in a handshake.

“Oh?” Zhengting smiles, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a glug of wine.

“We have ceramics together,” Wenjun informs him. His hands are surprisingly cool and smooth against yours. “It’s nice to meet you,” he reciprocates.

“I can’t believe you haven’t talked before. Y/N’s an excellent conversationalist,” Zhengting smirks. “Anyway, I’d better go check on my other guests. I’ll leave you to it,” he says, giving you a look.

“Mm,” you start before polishing off your drink. “So, your focus is ceramics?” you ask mundanely.

“Yeah,” Wenjun responds. It’s so short and vague, but he’s trying to think of something to say while simultaneously undressing you with his eyes. It’s far from his first glass of wine. He notices that your glass is empty, but he has no intention of encouraging you toward another even though he’s literally standing in front of the bar. “You?”

“I’m actually art history, specializing in curation,” you reply. “I’m just taking pottery as an elective. I'm not very good at it,” you tell him and he chuckles because he’s noticed.

“You seemed to be having a very heated discussion with Professor Wang the other day,” he notes.

“Well, he doesn’t understand my art,” you laugh. “I’m not, um, as good with my hands as you are. Your work is basically perfect, making it hard for the rest of us.”

“Bowls and cups are nothing, boring really,” he says dismissively.

You shrug. “Still, you make it look easy. I’d really like to see some of your other work,” you smile. You both know what you’re doing.

“Oh, well, I have a lot of stuff at my apartment, if you’d like to come check it out,” he says, as if the invitation is open anytime. But you’re only interested in right now.

“Is it close?” you ask boldly, your eyes glancing toward the door.

Wenjun swallows and his tongue slips out over his bottom lip involuntarily. “Yeah, just a couple blocks,” he replies. He looks down at his wine glass. “I have better wine there, too,” he smiles. “Do you wanna come have a look?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you agree.

Wenjun tosses back what’s left at the bottom of his glass, showing off his long neck. “C’mon,” he invites you.

You wave goodbye to Zhengting and follow him to his place. It’s really not that far at all from Zhengting's place, although it's not that close to campus. It's at the cusp of a wealthier neighborhood. Along the way you exchange some idle chit chat about the project you’ve just been assigned for class. He lets you into his one bedroom apartment. It’s neat and clean, but the flat surfaces hold many pieces of art. You’re drawn to a bookcase that’s pretty light on the books, but heavy on sculpture.

“Do you like red?” he asks as he moves around the room to turn on several lamps that leave a moody, romantic ambiance.

“Yeah, great,” you say disinterestedly. You know what you came for, but you’re actually very interested in the pieces you see. “Wow, this is really beautiful,” you say about a sculpture you’ve been looking at for a minute when he comes back from the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he says, handing you a glass of merlot.

“You did this?” you ask, looking over your shoulder and up at him, his head looming so far above yours.

“Yeah. I had to choose between sculpture and ceramics,” he says, picking up the small stone statue you were admiring. He hands the figure resembling a female body to you and you set down your glass to take it, placing your hands over his in the exchange. After you’ve taken a firm grip on it he pulls his hand away very slowly.

“Wow. I’m truly impressed,” you tell him, turning the object over in your hand and appreciating its weight. You place it back on the shelf. “So, why did you choose ceramics?”

“I guess, I like to get my hands dirty,” he says and there's a strange weight to his words. You almost choke. You can’t help but think about those hands. You’ve spent so long thinking about those hands.

“Yeah, I get that,” you say quietly, turning your body toward him. He looks down on you intensely. “I like a man who’s good with his hands.”

Wenjun smiles. “So I’ve heard.” He must have heard from Zhengting, because he knows you have a thing about hands.

“Can I see them?” you ask, taking him by surprise.

“See what?”

“Your hands.”

“Oh.” He sets down his wine glass on the shelf behind you, coming half a step closer and leaning over you in the process. You can smell his cologne, sandalwood. He holds up his hands in front of you. You bring your own hands up and measure them against yours. You’re absolutely dwarfed, but you already knew that. You feel the heat of his hands as your palms press together. The tips of your fingers barely reach his first knuckles, but his digits are so thing it’s hard to describe his hands as big.

“Did you ever play piano?” you wonder, with hands like that.

“Nope.”

“Guitar?”

Wenjun shakes his head.

“What a shame,” you frown.

“I can still put them to good use,” he grins as he interlocks your fingers with his unexpectedly.

“Oh, really?” you look up and lock eyes with him for a moment you can’t measure the length of.

Wenjun releases your hands only to run his fingers through his hair. He picks up his wine glass and turns to go sit on the couch, one arm extended over the back, looking very casual. “I’ve seen you staring at my hands in class,” he says before taking a slow sip of wine during which he does not take his eyes off you.

You turn toward him, but don’t come closer. “What makes you think I’m looking at your hands and not your work?”

He shrugs. “Just a feeling.” You’re not sure if it’s the velvet couch or his clothes or the way he looks like he’s used to getting what he wants, but he gives off the air of family money. “So,” he continues. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking about when you stare at my hands.”

You swallow nervously and he notices.

“It’s okay, Y/n. We all have kinks,” he smirks.

You walk over to him slowly and stand in front of him, your hips right in front of his eyes. You hold out your hand, palm up, and he places his hand in yours. You bend down and turn it over to examine his palm, stroking it flat with your fingers. You course along the lines, feeling the mounds and ridges.

“What do you see?” he asks quietly.

You look at him through your eyelashes. “I can’t read palms,” you smirk. “I just think you have nice hands, and I want to see your fingers disappear inside of me.”

Wenjun huffs a laugh. A smile spreads gradually across his beautiful face, carving dimples into his cheeks. It would be cute if he didn’t have such a dangerous look in his eye. He leans forward to set his glass on the coffee table behind you and uses the opportunity to check out your ass. He pulls his hand gently from yours and runs both up the back of your thighs, under your black miniskirt to feel your ass. He rubs and squeezes your cheeks gently, like clay, feeling the satin he doesn’t yet know is red. He turns you around so your backside is facing him now. Your mind feels fuzzy and oh so warm as his hands continue to caress your flesh, winding around and between your thighs, over your cheeks. You can’t see each other’s faces, but you both have your eyes closed, breathing deeply through your noses. His head rests against your hip. He’s not using his eyes to check you out, yet, just his hands. His fingers slip between the apexes of your legs, feeling the smooth satin covering your yearning slit.

“Is this where you want to feel me?” he wonders in a low tone.

“Yes,” you gasp quietly, barely a whisper.

“Are you sure?” he asks as he rubs gently over the spot.

You mouth ‘yes’ but no sound escapes your lips. You clear your throat. “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he grins. “You tell me if you want me to stop.”

Wenjun’s into consent, and that’s definitely a turn on. It’s also a turn on that he’s now unzipping your skirt at the back and pulling it slowly down over your ass.

“I take it back. You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” he chuckles when he sees your red satin underwear.

“Yes, daddy,” you respond, because you just know.

He turns you around again so you can face him. He looks up at you with big eyes, even darker than normal. You run your fingers through Wenjun's hair while he runs a finger under the edge of your panties around your left hip, dipping in between your legs, teasing the outer margins of your heat. He uses the finger to draw the crotch of your underwear to the side. He leans forward to blow cool air over your sensitive bits, not quite ready to give you what you want. You rub your thighs together at the sensation and the anticipation. You can feel yourself begin to drip. He covers you over again and returns to gently rubbing your satin and your legs.

“How long have you been waiting?” he asks quietly, looking up at you again as your head hangs forward in disappointment.

“Since the first day of class,” you admit.

“That’s not that long. Only about a month. I could make you wait longer,” he smirks devilishly.

Your pussy clenches in frustration at his words. “No, daddy, please,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together again.

“God, you’re cute when you beg,” he says in that entitled tone. His hands work their way around to your ass again.

You lower yourself while angling his face up in your hands. You kiss him tenderly for the first time. “Please, daddy. I wanna feel you,” you beg in his ear. He hopes you don’t notice the jagged breath escaping his lips, but you do and you smile to yourself. You return to a pout before you stand up straight again.

“Fuck, little girl. I guess since you asked so nice,” he agrees.

Wenjun slides his fingers under the bright red fabric again and gently caresses your warm skin with the pads of his middle and ring finger. He feels for your entrance and finds it dripping with your essence.

He sighs. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you princess?”

“Mhm,” you give him a high moan as he dips one finger to your wetness and draws it toward himself, spreading up to your clit. He feels his cock twitch in his designer jeans and brings the finger out to his lips.

“Mm, you’re a sweet girl,” he smiles. You lick your lips as you watch him. You reach for his hand and bring it to your mouth, sucking his fingers into you and tasting what’s left of yourself there.

And he laughs, even as his dick is hardening uncomfortably against his pants.

“What?” you can’t help asking, a little whiny.

“Your duality is just...I don’t know whether to reward you or punish you,” he smiles.

“Whatever you want, daddy. As long as you’re touching me.”

“Very well,” he agrees.

Wenjun turns you once more so he can watch the satin slip over your perfect cheeks as he peels them off of you. Once they’re forgotten on the floor, he pulls you to sit on his leg, drawing your arm around his neck. His arm supports your back, his hand on your hip, while his other hand brings your face to his. His arms are so long it’s no struggle for his hand to drift from your hip, under your tight fitting top, to your breast, and massage it firmly while he kisses you. His breath is hot on your lips in the moments he pants over you. He smells like wine but it’s not the only thing about him that’s intoxicating. He slides his hand down and up one thigh before firmly gripping the other and lifting your leg to rest your foot on the coffee table. His fingers ghost back up your thigh to your core. He touches your softly with flat fingers, just to feel your warmth. He breaks your kiss to look down at your sex and then back up at your face. He presses his forehead to yours as he spreads your juices up to rub your clit.

“You have a beautiful pussy, princess,” he whispers. Your eyes close at the hot electricity spreading from your clit to all the other nerves in your body. “You said you wanted to see, so look,” he instructs you as his fingers tease your entrance.

You open your eyes and curve your back to see his middle finger slowly push inside of you. You clench around him and your mouth opens to gasp for air. But he doesn’t give you his whole finger, just half before he slips back out, dragging against your sweet spot. He inserts his ring finger into you as well, causing you to start breathing heavy as he feels your tight, wet walls, giving you the full length of those talented fingers. You whimper as he curves them inside of you and pulls back slowly. Your head is still resting against his and you close your eyes slowly, tightening your grip around his shoulders as indescribable pleasure ripples through your body.

“Watch,” he whispers in your ear and begins to move his hand faster, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Your hips move involuntarily. “Stop fucking my fingers, little girl. I’m the one fucking you,” he hisses as you drip onto his hand.

You whimper and try hard not to move.

“Is this what you wanted?” he breathes in your ear, listening to you whine as he speeds up.

“Yes, daddy,” you say in a high pitch, broken and pathetic.

“Can you come on my fingers, princess?” he asks, pressing more and more into your sweet spot.

“Fuck,” you moan, and let your tension snap in your belly, gushing onto his fingers.

“Good girl,” he says, kissing your sweaty cheek.

You turn your face to press your lips against his. You’re still shaking with aftershocks from your eruption, but you can’t stop your hands from going to the button on his jeans.

“You want daddy’s cock?” he asks, amused by your useless fumbling.

“Yes, please,” you smile.

“Okay, baby.” He pushes you off of him quickly but gently, not wanting to waste time on disrobing and getting straight to the point. He begins by taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt while you undo his pants.

“Well, that’s the second pair of pants I’ve ruined this week,” you mutter when you see the stain you left on his jeans and shove them to the floor.

“What?” he laughs.

“Uh. Ask Zhengting,” you say, and he doesn’t seem at all bothered by that, so you figure either he already knows or he doesn’t care about things you've done with Zhengting, or anyone else for that matter. He kicks them off and pulls his undershirt over his head while you stroke his cock. He lays himself down on the couch.

“I want that wonderful pussy in my face, baby,” he tells you with a tap on your hip.

You smile and swing your knee over his face, getting in the right position before you bend over his cock. You were right about Bi Wenjun. He’s long everywhere. Long and thick and delicious. In fact, it’s a little difficult to work with since you’re trying to hold yourself up and you can’t fit him all in your mouth, but you do your best. You lick his length and let your spit slide down so you can pump whatever you can’t get your lips over with your other hand while you suck him. He moans as you hollow your cheeks. He grunts when he hits the back of your throat and you choke on him bringing tears down your face.

Wenjun’s not trying to come in your mouth though. He’s busy preparing your sweet hole for him and enjoying your juices. He sucks gently on your clit while teasing your entrance with a hand wrapped around your ass. He probes two fingers into you, applying pressure and stretching you a little before giving you a third finger. The way you moan from your own pleasure does wild things to his cock as he slides in and out of your mouth.

When he decides he’s ready to fuck you he gives your a light smack on your ass, just to tell you to come up for air. He’s already decided he thinks you’re good, and he doesn’t want to punish you. You pull off of him and he pushes you off gently again. You stand before him, waiting for instructions. He reaches over to a box on an end table and pulls out a condom.

“Take off your shirt,” he commands while he unwraps it. He slides the condom over his length and waves you to come sit in his lap, so you straddle him. He laughs when he sees how good you are at following instructions and easily removes your bra for you, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“You ready, little girl?” he checks.

You nod and grip his cock so you can position yourself correctly, breathing deep as you begin to slide onto him.

He takes your face in one hand and wipes the tears from your cheek while the other rests on your hip. “Take your time, baby. Don’t hurt yourself,” he says soothingly.

"You're so fucking big," you moan and smile a little, thinking he didn’t have to buy ribbed condoms. You focus on breathing steadily while you ease onto him.

He draws your eyes to his. “You know, I sit across from you every day in class, thinking of having you just like this,” Wenjun whispers as you take him all the way in.

“Fuck,” you sigh, feeling him fill you up. You rest on him for a second before you begin to move. He supports you, holding your waist firmly.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he breaths, feeling pleasure wash over him with every movement of yours. “I knew you’d be so good at taking dick, little girl.”

“Daddy,” you whine, clutching his neck desperately.

“Is it too big for you, baby?” he questions.

You shake your head while you bite your lip, but you’re on the verge of tears. The sensation is too much.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“No,” you moan shakily.

“Are you going to come for me again?” he wonders.

You nod your head.

“You can come, baby.” He brushes your hair back to watch your face as you come undone all over him. “There you go, princess,” he smiles as you squeeze around him.

He decides to give you a break and picks you up to lay your back on the couch while he kneels on the floor.

“Is it okay if I move?” he asks.

You nod. It’s amazing how considerate he is when he asks you things seeing as how he could literally destroy you with his cock. You hold back your legs while he thrusts in and out of you to his own rhythm.

“There’s a good girl,” he coos as he glides along your walls. Wenjun's hands stretch out to massage your breasts as you take him deep, a little easier when you’re not under the pressure of your own gravity. He reaches up to wipe away the remaining tears his cock has caused you, and you take his hand in yours, guiding his long fingers into your mouth. You can still taste yourself on him but you don’t mind, especially when you see how you’re turning him on even more. Your grunts turn to moans and he begins to move faster. His head falls back as he grips your hips and fucks you hard. His eyes close and his features scrunch up on his face as he comes into you, sighing.

Wenjun sits back on his heels, drained and weak, but he pulls your hand to bring you into a sitting position. He twines his fingers with yours. You use your other hand to tilt his face up to yours and kiss him tenderly while he recovers. After a minute he’s able to stand and go to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back you’re in your underwear, trying to figure out where your bra got to. He laughs and goes to lift it off one of his statues with one finger before holding it out to you.

“Thanks,” you blush, even though you weren’t the one who tossed it.

He rubs his hand through his hair, sending it in all directions. “Do you live close?” he asks.

“Not really,” you admit. It’s not far, but you’d definitely have to uber at this time of night.

“You can stay. If you want,” he tells you in a detached tone. “I don’t cuddle, and I’m not catching feelings, but I’m not the kind of asshole to throw a girl out on the street, and I’m gonna be up for a while longer if you wanna hang out.”

You only consider for a second before you agree. “I can tell you’re not an asshole, Wenjun.”

“You can?” he asks, apparently finding that amusing.

“Yeah. I mean, I can see that you kind of want people to see you as aloof or whatever, but you’re not bad. Pretty good, actually,” you smile. It’s always easiest to tell if someone’s an asshole when they’re inside of you.

“You’re just saying that because I got you off twice.” But he’s got a huge smile across his face, and you’re not sure why.

“It’s not like that makes you special,” you laugh, your whole chest shaking.

He laughs too and shakes his head. He waves one of his long hands for you to follow him to his bedroom. He offers you a sweater and a pair of basketball shorts, saying any of his pants would be too long on you, and that’s obviously true.

“You smoke?” Wenjun asks, as his head pops out of his shirt.

“Uh, smoke what?” you ask, although you’ll probably answer yes since he doesn’t look like he does crack or meth.

“Good question.” He grabs a pack of cigarettes off his dresser.

“Hm. Not habitually, but I never turn down a post-coital cigarette,” you smile. You like the cliche. Wenjun likes the things you say when your head’s not clouded with sex.

You grab your glasses of wine you’d abandoned and go to sit out on his balcony in the balmy September night. You stay up for hours talking about everything from art to music to childhood memories and finish a bottle of wine. He was serious about not cuddling, but he lets you sleep in his bed anyway.

[jbjsflower]

Okay so these are the fics that I have to write and post (hopefully this month, at least the requested ones):

- Yoongi reaction to u being a western rapper (requested)

- Namjoon x u being his stylist (requested)

- Day6 seeing u naked for the first time (requested)

- Day6 walking in on u getting changed/ showering (requested)

- Fluffy Bi Wenjun scenario (requested)

- Youtuber Bang Chan x u being a youtuber (probably gonna be smut or smth)

- Jackson x reader going to the gym (smut, requested)

- Vernon waking up next to u after a crazy party night

- Probably there’s gonna be more bc I have some ideas

Don’t hate me pls i’ll write and post the requests asap, then work on my own fic ideas uwu thank u so much for your requests and patience ! Merry christmas and happy new year btw

[cosmichengcheng]

hushed > bi wenjun x reader college!social media au

there’s more than just academic lessons to be learned at university

[teaser] 1. [next]

note: akskdkdk i noticed a couple mistakes in the written bit pls ignore those thanks xox

[jbjsflower]

hello! can i request a fluffy bi wenjun scenario?? thank youu

Not sure if this is what you wanted / were hoping for but anyways there you go! Hope you like it and sorry for being so late omg

http://jbjsflower.tumblr.com/post/183032561381/english-and-coffee-mornings-wenjun-x-reader

[forever-firewalking]

to chart a course by the stars (final part) | Bi Wenjun

Was this the price or the cost of chasing stardom? Is there ever anything that is constant in the universe, or is it all in constant motion?

Title: To Chart a Course By the Stars (part ii) Pairing: Bi Wenjun x reader Characters: OC (reader), Bi Wenjun, Ding Zeren, Fan Chengcheng

continued from part i and interlude.

IV. Allegro.

“Can you hear me?” Wenjun’s voice is tinny but ear-blastingly loud through your cheap $3 Apple rip-off earbuds. 

“Yes, yes, yes, loud and clear,” you say hurriedly, turning the volume down. “Where are you? Yuehua building?”

“Yeah,” your boyfriend says. Muffled shouting. A pause. “Ah, Zeren says hi. Chengcheng says…he says can you comment on his new profile picture—”

You laugh. “That little shit. His head doesn’t need any more inflating, that’s what i’ll comment—“ 

“She says your head doesn’t need any more inflating,” Wenjun dutifully reports across, but you can hear how his footsteps speed up, taking him away from the commotion. The next shout (Zhengting?) is noticeably quieter.

“So, babe,” he says casually, once the din has died down and it’s just his voice, reverberating into your ear. You still shiver slightly every time that word comes out of his mouth. It’s just so… un-Wenjun. And you can hear how it doesn’t fit, the way he subconsciously deepens his voice when he says it, getting into character, the way he’s taught to do for performances at Yuehua. 

He’s not aware of it, you think, at how much Yuehua is training him and changing him, but you can see it quite clearly in the nine months or so that you’ve been away. Your tall, gentle boy, with his “please and thank-yous”, you think wistfully, where did he go? He sends you selfies with his face strategically angled, baseball cap on backwards, and you stare into the too-serious eyes, that warm brown, your finger tapping thoughtfully against the phone screen. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” You glance around the university cafe, only half-occupied on a late Sunday afternoon. You make accidental eye contact with the barista, a lanky blond, and you smile at him briefly before turning away.

“When are you coming back?” Wenjun asks.

“You mean, when do I come back after this semester? Or when do I graduate?”

He huffs. “This semester.”

“I finish semester at the end of May,” you tell him slowly, “but I won’t be back until January. I got an internship overseas for the summer—“

“When in January?” he interrupts.

“Like…the 20th? Only for two weeks though, school starts again in February.” Your stomach twists in guilt. It’s been almost a year and you haven’t visited home once since you left.

“Oh. Oh, I have a, a competition that week, I’m going to Beijing,” Wenjun says, and your heart sinks a little. 

“Oh,” you echo. “What competition is it?”

He ignores you. “—look, I’ll talk to Mrs Du, maybe I can come down between filming for a weekend—“

“Filming? They’re filming the competition?” You’re alarmed. This is a much bigger deal than you thought. His career must be almost taking off, how had you not realised?

“Yeah, it’s some kind of reality television show, but they’re just broadcasting it online, look, it’s okay, i’ll figure something out—“

“Wenjun,” you say gently. “Wenjun, it’s fine. I’ll see you in the next holiday, okay? You don’t need to - make sacrifices for me.”

He goes quiet. You don’t say it, and neither does he. Because that would make it two years, then, and it would be another two until you graduated from your overseas university. You don’t say how right now, your biggest dreams and your most detailed plans for post-graduation are those that would lead you more permanently out of the country, into less polluted cities of brighter stars and more dazzling sights, more profitable sectors with pay checks that you can comfortably send home.

“Look, we can Skype,” you offer. “Like we used to.”

“Sure,” he says. He coughs. Silence lies heavy. You open your mouth, but how to say it? Was this the price or the cost of chasing stardom? Is there ever anything that is constant in the universe, or is it all in constant motion?

If you meet anyone, it’s fine, you say, in your imagination. You should chase your dreams without looking back.

...

A/N: Thank you guys for reading this far! I’m not dead I swear I had this section blocked out in like a paragraph for ages but because I recently relocated and started a new job i had to go MIA for a while. How are you guys? I hope those of you in school have all survived finals intact xx

[forever-firewalking]

Forever (part iii) | Ding Zeren

the one in which you and Zeren have an overdue conversation in the laundry room. 

image cr: dingzeren.

Title: Forever Pairing: Ding Zeren x reader Characters: OC (reader), Ding Zeren, Fan Chengcheng, Zhou Jieqiong, Li Quanzhe, Zhu Zhengting, Bi Wenjun, Justin, OC (Guan Guan) Concept: college au, yuehua OT7, rating G, unrequited, slight angst, happy ending

continued from part i, part ii. As befits your life, your sad, self-indulgent pity party is rudely cut short by the ding of your phone alarm, reminding you that your laundry is done and needs to be collected. And you can’t just ignore it, because doing laundry is actually such a dangerous battle in this college. (The laundry room’s a mess and people are angry and impatient and will dump your clothes out if you don’t turn up in time.) You wipe your tears away roughly. 

Real life interrupts as usual. You’re always required, needed, but not wanted. Even by your laundry.

Whoa, okay. You catch yourself at that thought, and laugh a little at how ridiculous it is. But then it all circles back to how ridiculous you are, crying in your room when it’s your friend who needs support. 

The silence outside tells you that Chengcheng and Justin have probably failed at cheering Zeren up, and most likely he’s fled to his room for some peace and quiet.

You open your door, intending to rush down the corridor and past the living room before someone sees the teartracks on your face. You catch a glimpse of yellow—the person of interest himself—and immediately slam your door closed again.

“Y/N,” Zeren calls softly. Inside, you fumble around with a mirror and tissues and your face.

“Hey, I, uh, need to get my laundry!” You open the door again, neatly sidestep where Zeren is standing (whatthefuckishedoingthere), and begin taking long strides down the corridor. 

“If you want to talk, just give me 10 minutes, okay? I’ll be back!” Your voice is falsely bright, and you look and sound normal, as if abandoning your friend post-break-up to get laundry is normal. But you’re halfway out the front door already, escape is so close, and then Zeren says, “I’ll come with you!”

“-oh you really don’t need to—“

“Uh, no, I want to—“

“Uh, okay!” you say, but your steps don’t slow down as you dash down the stairs (two at a time) until you realise that Zeren is running a little to catch up. When you look back, he has a strange expression on his face, like the one he gets when a dance step is still eluding him or an economics problem is particularly hard. You’ve always appreciated that Zeren is perceptive, and attentive, and very quick to put two and two together, but—

“I guess we can talk on the way!” you say, slowing down. You put on your gentlest voice, perfect for soothing ruffled feathers. It’s not hard, because this is Zeren, and it’s the day before Valentine’s Day, and in a million years you can’t fathom how anyone could be heartless enough to do what she did. “So, how are you feeling? You still haven’t told me what happened exactly.”

His face closes off a little, and your heart twinges. He’s always been so easy to read, for you, and you know that’s because you spend all your waking moments together attuned to his every movement, inevitably looking towards him first whenever you enter a room, like a flower that always turns towards the warmth of the sun.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about that, we can talk about something else,” you say quietly.“No, I, wanted to ask you,” Zeren begins. You reach the laundry room. He opens the door for you. You scan the room for your stuff as if your heart’s not about to drum out of your chest at any moment.

“I wanted to ask you…about what you said.”

“Hmm?” Your clothes, your clothes, where are they? Ah, there they are. Clothes!

“You said… ‘unrequited feelings won’t kill you’.”

“Oh, did I?” Why do you have so many clothes? The wet pile from the machine seems to be never-ending, you pull at one T-shirt and it’s followed by another, and another, and another.

“And I guess…” Zeren is still finding his words as you haul the basket from the washers to the dryers. You pray that you haven’t dropped any underwear in the transfer. “Y/N, I’ve always thought of you as a very loving person…”

“Uh-huh.”

“…because you always look after us so much, you know? You’re always there. You always know the perfect things to say. You’re like a constant in our lives, like, more than a best friend, like a sister, almost—“

If he could have reached into your chest, taken out your heart, and thrown it into the washing machine to be thrown around and wrung dry, it couldn’t have hurt more than what you felt at that moment. 

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, there’s nothing you need to be sorry for--“ 

“No, I think there is,” he circles around, so it’s harder for you to avoid his gaze. He’s stuck his hands in his pockets, his cap is on low over his eyes, but he’s peering at you intensely, eyes brighter than the fluorescent light of the laundry room. “I’m quickly realising that there’s been something I’ve been missing, something I never noticed all along.”

Well. You face him, you try to smile, to convey that it’s no big deal, really. He doesn’t have to apologise for the fact that you were stupid enough to go and catch feelings. “Zeren, really. It’s fine.”

“No, but then I come back tonight, right, and I’m upset, and then you’re upset, and then Zhengting looks at me like I’ve done something wrong--”

“No!” You’re going to murder Zhengting. “No, you haven’t, really please don’t, just don’t.”

You’re not sure what it is you’re asking him to stop doing, all you know is that this hurts. 

“Hey!” Zeren looks alarmed. “Y/N, I’m sorry, please don’t cry, I’m sorry, okay, I didn’t mean it like that.”

And, as you knew he would, because he’s always done it since you were kids and you would cry whenever you found a small animal by the side of the road that had been run over, he wraps his arms around you and puts his chin on your head, making soothing noises and rubbing your back. 

All this does is make you cry harder. Because this is what he’s always done since you were young, and this is what he’s always done for his best friend, for someone who’s like a sister.

“I never meant to make you cry,” he says, his voice softer now that he’s almost speaking into your ear. “I always… you have so much love for everyone, for everything, you know? And then we came to college, and no one was good enough for you, because, well, you’re you, and then I thought—Well then. That’s it. That’s it for me.”

“What do you mean,” you say into his shirt, but maybe it’s too muffled because he ignores you.

“And then I met Guan Guan, and then you told me, and I quote, ‘Oh, she’s lovely! You should go for it!’, and that, Y/N, that broke my heart for months—“ he breaks off into a chuckle.

Wait what.

“And then Guan Guan never thought you were lovely, so I didn’t hang out with you that much, and then later Zhengting, I thought, you and Zhengting, that seemed like it would make a lot more sense than the alternative—“

“What alternative.” You try to disentangle yourself from Zeren to get a better look at his face, but he won’t let go of your shoulders. You stare at each other, nose to nose.

“Wait a second, Ding Zeren.” For some reason, you’re infuriated. “You stop right there. You are two-hours-freshly-dumped by Guan Guan, love of your life, you don’t get to give me this crap right now.”

He smiles. How dare he have the gall to smile when he’s telling you that actually, all along, all this time--

“Oh, I know,” he says. “I have issues, I know. I’m going to have to sort that out, before we…”

He smiles wider at the expression on your face, his eyes brighter than you’d ever seen before. 

“Just let me be happy for a bit, okay?” He whispers. “I had no idea. I’m a bit of a mess, I know. But you’ll fix it.”

This hug has turned into him burying his face in your hair. You breathe in rather shallowly. He still smells faintly like Valentine’s Day, crushed roses and half-melted chocolate.

[forever-firewalking]

Forever (part ii) | Ding Zeren

Title: Forever Pairing: Ding Zeren x reader Characters: OC (reader), Ding Zeren, Fan Chengcheng, Zhou Jieqiong, Li Quanzhe, Zhu Zhengting, Bi Wenjun, Justin Concept: college au, yuehua OT7, rating G, unrequited, slight angst

continued from part i. “I think love is real,” you offer lamely.

Zeren looks up at you. His gaze is intense. it’s a bit hard to look at, like the steady gaze of a tiger, unreadable, dark like the bottom of a deep, deep well that you’re staring down, trying to find a hint of light.

You’re not sure how long it’s been since you’ve blinked.

You want to make a joke to lighten the moment, or avert your eyes by picking some invisible lint off his shirt, or by smoothing his hair or any of thousand other little actions you always do when whatever’s been hanging between you two tries to manifest itself.

Because you’re determined to bury it, whatever it is. Never mind that Zeren is single (single!!) now. You’re the best friend, the group mom, the one always on the sidelines, to mend other people’s broken hearts with the tissues and hugs. Best friend duties call.

“Love is real but it’s transient. Love comes and goes. People change, and love changes, and sometimes the person you loved doesn’t love you anymore, and sometimes the person you thought you loved doesn’t exist anymore, but what matters is that it happened, y’know?”

You do your best, but it sounds like empty cliches and platitudes even to your own ears. You try again: “You might still love her for a while, and she might not love you back. That’s okay. Unrequited feelings won’t kill you.”

You don’t know why but your chest is tight and your voice has started shaking a little. you remove your hand from his tight grip, you stand up. his eyes follow your movement. He hasn’t said anything, but there’s a new considering look in his eyes. ok great, job done--

“Believe me when i say though, Zeren, it’s her loss.” 

And then you flee, because that’s all you can manage.

The tears come later, when your room door has been safely shut and you can hear that Chengcheng and Justin have taken over trying to cheer Zeren up with exuberant renditions of Mariah Carey songs. 

You scrub at your eyes furiously, because why are you crying it’s not like anything’s happened or you’ve lost anything

(It’s not like you’ve been half in love with your best friend since forever.)

part iii.