#winwin x yn

[planetkiimchi]

the truth, revealed | d.sc

featuring: guard!winwin x royalty!reader

word count: 845 words

taglist: @slytherinshua ,, @welcometomyoasis

author's note: couldn’t think of a reason for y/n's brother to just give up fighting so… have a revolution i guess 🤷‍♀️ also sorry for the long wait </33 i hope this double update serves as apology enough

warning — forest fire, immolation (killing people by burning)

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When he entered, it occurred to you that your brother didn’t know how to kneel. His knees were spotless, soft skin covering the joint, a stark contrast to Sicheng’s calloused, darkened knees, too used to kneeling as a sign of respect.

So when your brother bent to greet you, that older brother of yours, it took everything you had not to dislodge his knees from their sockets, to cripple him, because even that would not be payment enough for how much he had hurt you.

His eyes had lost their decisive gleam, their manipulative, triumphant glimmer. Now he was only a shell of what he had been, stripped of his authority over you, forced to grovel at your feet for mercy.

However, though you were just and reasonable, you were also a ruler, and there were some times that mercy was not an option.

One of those times would be now.

“Stand.” Your brother jumped to his feet, desperate to please you, and you looked straight ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking him straight in the eye. Once he had returned to his place, the judge began the trial.

The documents you had spent so much time preparing were read out, the camera footage from the night your brother had “broken” Sixue out of jail displayed for all to see. You watched as Sicheng fell to his knees, the scene replaying in your head. All of a sudden you could feel sand brushing against your skin, could feel the scorching heat, and your throat felt constricted.

Breathing in deeply, you forced yourself to calm down, stonily staring at the video, refusing to display even a hint of a reaction.

When it had finished playing, you saw your brother’s jaw clench. You could almost hear him grinding his teeth, a habit that you’d become all too familiar with. There was annoyance in the lines of his face, the tick in his jaw, and the set of his eyebrows.

The judge waved a hand for the first of the witnesses you had gathered to make his way to the stand. The witness—Guan Heng was his name—lived in the outskirts in a small town called Luoyang, and he had been 18 when your parents mysteriously disappeared.

After months of searching, you’d identified him as the sole witness of your parents’ death. Much like you had suspected, your brother had killed them, and everyone in the village had been killed afterwards, so he would leave no traces. The village in which your parents were killed was near a forest, and at that time of year, it was prone to forest fires.

The fire that wiped out the village hadn’t been of much significance, except when 18-year-old Guan Heng came back from his friend’s place in the village over, only to see that there was no one out and about, and the flames were blazing with no one to take care of it.

Struck with suspicion, he had gone from door to door, only to discover villagers sitting around their dinner tables, limp and lifeless. Blood coated the walls, but there had been little traces of struggle. It was almost as if an entire army had been dispatched to enter the doors at the same time, shooting at the villagers before they had a chance to react, their screams cut short by the life bleeding out from them.

Overcome with rage and sorrow, Guan Heng had gone back to his friend, mobilising the village to put out the fire, and arranging burials for the villagers. After putting out the fire, all that was left of the forest was ashes. However, Guan Heng swore that he had seen soldiers dressed in peasants’ clothes frequenting the bar in his friend’s village, and there were rumours that three members of the royal family were there as well.

Your parents’ bodies were never found, but it was likely that they had been tied to a tree and the forest set on fire. Your only hope was that the lack of oxygen had made them unconscious, so they would not have had to suffer the pain of the fire on their skin.

At the time, Guan Heng was only a teenager, powerless to do anything against the people that wiped out his entire village. However, as he grew older, he grew smarter, and he became certain that someone within the royal family had been the cause for his family’s death.

Guan Heng had been the one to start the anti-monarchy movement, which Sixue had been part of, causing her to land in prison. Now, he stood at the witness stand, facing your brother, and he spoke.

“I am Guan Heng from Luoyang,” he said, his voice clear and loud. It carried within the court, and you saw something flash in your brother’s eyes.

Without warning, the doors to the court burst open, and an army of sorts stood before you. You didn’t need to turn your head to know Sicheng had stiffened, and your clothes fluttered in his direction.

Trouble was brewing.

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[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

NCT Spooky Season [Day 5]

The Haunted Complex

TW: Ghosts, Haunted Building Genre: Romance Pairing: Dong Sicheng x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 0.7K Prompt: “Oh yeah, the sheet ghost is so scary” “Not that! The thing behind it!”

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Yesterday] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

If you were being honest, here, you'd consider yourself a skeptic when it comes to ghosts. You're a believer of science first and foremost, a true non-believer, so to say. Your boyfriend, Sicheng, on the other hand, is the most superstitious and ghost-fearing person probably in the world. You love him to death, of course, but you can only handle so much of the 'No way! It's haunted!' statements when you want to explore somewhere cool.

"I swear, (Y/N), you could see a ghost right in front of you and you'd think it was an illusion."

"That's probably because it would be, there's no such thing as ghosts," you told him.

"Are we even allowed to be here?" He looks up at the old building while you pull one of the boards covering the entrance off.

"Nope," you had an evil grin and Sicheng sighed. "Now come on! You either come with me or I go in alone," you offered.

"What?! You can't go in there alone! Fine! One hour!" Sicheng walks in first and you couldn't hide your excitement.

"Yes! Nice!" You followed in after him. You turned your flashlight on and shone it on anything that caught your eye. Who knows what this building used to be used for before? A lot of it was hidden from weather and age, leaving only small traces behind. "Ooh, Sicheng! Look at this!" You illuminated the bulletin board in front of you and pointed at one of the flyers.

"Call if you're interested in having a roommate," Sicheng recites.

"Huh, I kind of hated my roommates before," you shrugged.

"Were they really that bad? They were always nice when I was over," Sicheng takes out his flashlight too.

"Not bad, per se, just... so messy," you shuddered. "Let's go upstairs," you pointed the flashlight toward the staircase and Sicheng hesitated after seeing the cobweb above the door. "Don't worry, if there are any spiders I'll shoo them away," you waited for him to catch up with you before continuing.

"I really don't like the vibes of this place, (Y/N)," he rubs his arms up and down, shining his flashlight toward anything that seemed scary.

"You know what's worse than feeling like there's something scary around you?" You asked him.

"What?"

"Seeing it." He turned his flashlight off immediately and looked forward, and you couldn't stop the small laugh. "You are so adorable, Sicheng, don't worry! Ghosts don't exist and, if they did, I'd protect you from them!" You shot him a confident look, but you could tell he still wasn't convinced.

Now on the second floor, you and Sicheng were able to explore an abandoned unit, a couple of closets, and the bathroom. So far, nothing out of the ordinary for an abandoned complex, mostly quiet and a little eerie, there wasn't even a sound of dripping water. Just silence. But the longer you were in here the more uneasy you felt, maybe Sicheng was rubbing off on you a little too much, usually, you were the more dauntless of the duo, but his shaky eyes and the fact that he couldn't stand still for even a few minutes was starting to make you jittery too, until you finally heard him scream.

"Sicheng! What?!" You looked behind you and toward him.

"G... G... Ghost!" He shouts. You look forward again.

"Oh, yeah, that sheet ghost is so scary," you pulled the sheet off of the mannequin which, in many ways, was also terrifying. Especially since it was in the middle of the hallway. Covered.

"Not that!" Sicheng takes your shoulders and points further down the dark hallway, "the thing behind it!" Sicheng points at the elongated figure down the hall.

"Holy... holy shit," your jaw drops and, somehow, it seems to get closer. "Run."

"What?"

"Run!" You take his hand and you both bolt down the stairs, dashing out of the complex, into your car, and not even bothering to put your seat belts on while Sicheng slammed on the gas to get the hell out of there.

After a few minutes of silence, Sicheng was the one to speak up first.

"(Y/N)... you haven't looked anywhere but forward since we left."

"So have you, and you're the one driving," you didn't look at him.

"I don't want to check my mirrors."

"Why?"

"What if..."

"Don't you dare say it."

"So... do you believe in ghosts now?"

"... yes."

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville 

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[misted-dream]

♟️ between heaven and hell ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ bodyguard!winwin x fem!reader ➛ part of the mad city series | go to district V

content | smut, sprinkle of angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden love but not really, forced proximity, a little bit of miscommunication, yn is mentioned to be shorter than winwin, slow burn?, winwin is kinda a dick at first

warnings | fingering, profanity, mentions of food, mentions of a shooting

word count | 18k

synopsis | being born into a repulsive fortune, your life is threatened more often than not. you’ve grown less and less affected by it throughout the years. however, as the day where you take on your father’s much coveted title looms nearer and nearer, more frequent and dangerous threats draw in. with all the money in the world, is it enough to buy trust?

note | ln stands for last name since yn is addressed by her last name quite a bit in this. the ending is a little bit rushed, pls excuse that and ignore the fact that this basically takes place in a week. what is pacing, idk.

tags @90s-belladonna thank you for supporting me!

a smattering of rain hits against the arched window pane of the library, filling the room with a soft pitter-patter. usually, from where you are seated, you can look directly into the well-kept and always blossoming garden. now, it’s too dark for you to make out anything but the slightest silhouette of your father’s treasured magnolia tree.

“miss ln?”

you direct your attention away from the book in your hands, and towards the library entrance that you had your back to.

“your father would like to speak with you.”

this late? you thought.

“thank you, priscilla,” you smile and your housemaid dismisses herself with a gentle nod. you glide your extended legs off of the couch and set down your book next to you on the velvet material of the sofa. sliding on your slippers, you make your way out of the library, softly close the door behind you, and amble along the long hallways and down the staircase leading to your father’s office.

you knock twice on the thick wooden doors painted in a pristine white. "come in," your father calls out. you apply pressure to the metal handle, cold to the touch, and the hinges creak slightly.

you greet your father, sat in his usual spot in the middle of the office with a floor-to-ceiling window to his back. then, something else catches your attention. a tall, backlit figure stands broadly next to your father. the room is illuminated by the moonlight and a gold accented lamp in the far corner, barely enough light to see 3 feet out in front of you clearly.

“yn,” your father addresses you faintly. you instinctively go to pull out one of the two leather seats tucked under the large, hand-carved wooden desk, its’ surface littered with documents and fountain pens. as you take a seat, your father begins, “as you know, your succession is planned for a little over a week, if all goes well. taking into account the latest incident, i have decided to take preventative measures to ensure no more dangers come to you during the lead-up.” your father pauses, his palm opens to gesture towards the man standing beside him. “this will be your new personal guard,” the man steps forward, “dong sicheng.”

confusion evidently sits upon your face. you want to flat out ask, ‘why do i need a bodyguard?’ but you bite back your tongue, trying to come up with a more eloquent and precise prod.

the man doesn’t reach his hand out, as you would expect, to introduce himself. he simply voices, “miss ln,” with a curt nod of his head.

you pull your eyes away from your new bodyguard, you still can’t make out too much of what he looks like. “father, i already have personal guards,” you state matter of factly.

“of course,” your father leans back into his chair. “but none of them are with you 24/7. sicheng will be, ensuring no harm comes your way.”

unbelievable. on the surface, it seems like he truly wants you under protection, but you understand your father’s schemes; you understand your father more than anyone else. what he’s really saying is that he has hired this man—dong sicheng—so that you will be put on his watchlist.

your father smiles a gentle smile. “but,” at the very first sound of a protest, the corners of his mouth begins to droop, “if this is about last time—”

with a firm shake of his head, your father cuts you off. “this isn’t negotiable, yn.”

normally, when you would argue things to be your way, your father would at least hear what you have to say. so, to be cut off so bluntly... a pang of helplessness strikes you square in the chest, and your eyes divert towards your new guard.

“i recommend you use your time to get adjusted to this change,” with that, your father dismisses the both of you out of his office.

you shuffle out into the cold, sterile hallways. marble pillars line the walls with ornate sconces attached upon them, each bearing a flickering candle. besides just hearing the firm footsteps of someone else tailing right behind you, you can also feel an almost omniscient presence shadowing you. swiftly, you spin around on your heels only to be met eye level with someone's chest. your guard's. you have to angle your head upwards so that you can look into his eyes; he seems to purposefully ignore your gaze, staring straight at one of the pillars opposite him.

he's undeniably gorgeous. the hallways are more lit up than your father's study, allowing you to examine every detail of your guard's face.

you wait a few seconds before breaking the silence, "are you not going to say anything?"

he drops his focus onto you. coldly, he replies, "that's not what i'm paid to do, miss." he lets his eyes linger on you for a moment longer, before returning to look at nothing.

he can tell that you're clearly annoyed by his response, but he makes no show of it. you continue, "if you're not even going to look at me, how are you going to protect me?"

"is there something i need to protect you from in your own home, miss ln?"

he knows. at least he's alluding to knowing about your last little incident. you curse yourself for being careless in your head. if you hadn't caused a ruckus when you snuck home a few nights ago, you wouldn't have this bizarrely handsome, yet callous man looming over you until your father sees a reason to think otherwise.

"no, i suppose not."

you turn around once more, facing the rest of the hallway. an archway leads to a stately staircase at the end of the corridor. you walk down the hall, trying to dismiss the delayed footsteps behind you, and enter through the archway. the staircase spirals upwards into the corridor connecting the bedrooms; yours and your father's. of course, there are other rooms upstairs, such as the library, the games room, other rooms that you don't concern yourself with too much. a grand piano sits in the centre of the spiralling staircase, its' glossy surface lit up by the moonshine flooding inside through the domed skylight.

you proceed up the stairs, not expecting your bodyguard to follow you up, but he does.

you pause, and look back around for the second time now in the span of less than 10 minutes.

"there aren't guest rooms upstairs," you point out flatly.

he responds, meeting your coldness with his own but only 10 times more intensified, "i won't be requiring one."

puzzled, you ask, "you're not going to be sleeping in my room, are you?" half jokingly, half serious.

"miss ln," he takes one step up on the staircase so that he's at the same level as you, forcing you to tilt your head upwards at him. the heels of his shoes echo loudly on impact against the quartz steps. "there are boundaries i must follow in my duties. so whilst i won't be requiring my own room, i also know not to overstep into your privacy." he scans your face, looking for any hint of understanding. then, he adds plainly, "i will be guarding your bedroom door outside. you can rest assured."

you can feel a sly smirk creeping up onto your face, "shame. here i was thinking that you would follow me everywhere. speaking of," you make an exaggerated movement out of looking down at the watch on your wrist. "i should better shower; it's getting late."

sicheng's face is unfazed but still, you simper, looking pleased with yourself.

he stalks behind you wordlessly as you make the rest of your way up to your bedroom. and sure enough, he stops and stands outside to the right of your door.

"you can't be serious," the thought in your head slips out through your lips.

he doesn't look back. "i'm afraid your father is a vey serious man, miss ln."

how does father expect this man to stand outside of your room all night long? assuming he doesn't sleep, given the 24/7 hour-ness as mentioned in your father's spiel, how will he even have to energy to do his job?

you study the profile of his back for a few seconds before pushing your door closer to the frame, not completely shutting it.

your bedroom connects to an en suite bathroom. to say it's grand is underplaying the extent of luxury which you live in. the room is unnecessarily spacious with marble counters and a tall ceiling with intricately moulded details. a round bathtub sits in the centre, integrated directly into a gazebo-like fixture. a golden chandelier hangs overhead the bathtub, softly lighting up the room, creating a warm atmosphere. to the right side of the tub, facing across from the mirror and the sink, stands a shower area enclosed by frosted glass doors.

you reach for your zipper on the nape of your neck. you slide your thumb underneath the metal tab and begin to pull it down between your fingers. it budges an inch or two before it gets caught onto the fabric of your dress. "ugh," you vocalise. forcibly, you attempt to get the zipper unstuck, tugging and tugging but it won't shift.

you can only think of one solution.

"uh," you call out loud enough so that your bodyguard outside is sure to hear you. you're not quite sure how you should address him; calling him by his name feels weirdly a bit too intimate.

putting you out of your misery, he responds, "yes?" from outside in the halls.

"could you... come in?"

there's a break before he answers back to you. "i'm afraid that's unbecoming of me unless there's an emergency, miss ln."

you roll your eyes, despite knowing he's not there to see. "there is an emergency. will you come in now?"

"...are you decent?" he seems to contemplate his words carefully.

"god, you're frustrating," you blurt out, "yes, i'm decent- who do you think i am?"

there's a brief pause in time before you hear footsteps step into your bedroom. you can see him stop in front of your bathroom doorway in your peripheral.

you look over at him, standing tall and poised with his hands clasped in front of him. "what's the emergency, miss?"

turning your back against him, you sweep your hair over your shoulders, baring your zipper. "i can't get this unstuck."

he doesn't take any steps towards you, "and you needed me to come in for this?"

your patience grows thinner and thinner by the second. "if i could've got it myself, i wouldn't have called for you, would i?"

with this, he takes one... two... and three steps. just three steps before he's in reach of you. you can feel a warmth draw closer to you. turning your head towards your shoulder, you can see him standing behind you in the mirror. without knowing, you hold your breath. he goes to pull gingerly with one hand on the back neckline of your dress, the other trying to unwedge the fabric jammed underneath the zipper. he frees the tab and smoothly, he unzips you down to the middle of your back, stopping himself from releasing the zip all the way down. immediately, he drops his head and removes his hands from your dress while simultaneously taking a large step back from you.

"if that's all, i will leave you to rest for tonight, miss ln." his head is still angled downwards, eyes glued to the bathroom tiling.

you mutter, "thank you," finally taking in a breath again.

he nods, and begins to step backwards out of the bathroom. before he disappears completely from your field of vision, he is stopped by your expulsion of an 'um.'

without a word, he waits for what you have next to say. turning around to face him, he lifts his head and meets your eyes, still as emotionless as they were when you two were on the stairs.

"goodnight, sicheng."

you can see his chest rise, and fall before he speaks again. "goodnight, miss ln."

there's gentle thumping at the door but you can't be sure. your head and senses are foggy from sleep. your eyelids remain shut, trying to phase out the knocking.

"miss ln?"

for a brief moment, you don't recognise the voice calling out for your name. it is much deeper than the normal voice of your housemaid. your eyes open to a squint to see the morning sun rays surging into your room through the mesh veil of your curtains. another part of the garden can be seen through the windows to the right of your bed.

"miss ln?" sicheng calls out again.

"yes?" groggily, you answer as you push yourself up, propping your back against the cushioned headboard.

"your housemaid informs me that you have errands to run today."

your head snaps, remembering what today is. the gala.

he continues speaking, "i tried to send some of my men to help carry out your errands for you instead, but i was told to get your permission."

you manoeuvre out of your bed, tossing the throw blanket off of you. heading directly for the double doors, you swing them open to find dong sicheng standing right outside with his arms behind him, his head bowed. the sudden movement causes him to jolt his head upwards.

"no, i'll go," you scan him quickly up and down. he's dressed in the exact same outfit as last night, hair still combed over only a bit more disheveled. you want to ask if he really stood outside of your room while you slept throughout the whole night, but you know what he will say. your father never made promises he can't follow up on, mainly because it was never him personally who fulfilled his promises.

sicheng, looking caught offguard for the first time quickly steels his face back again into his trademark stoicness. "then, i shall accompany you." he gives your get-up one swift look down, then back up. "i'm ready whenever you are."

feeling only slightly annoyed at his gesture, you close the door on him and go to get dressed.

...

sicheng sits next to you in the car. the driver in front seems to pay no attention to his presence. you glance over, trying to make your staring not as conspicuous, but to no avail. his posture is perfectly upright and his hair looks more groomed than when he was stood outside your bedroom door.

"do i look to your standard, miss ln?" it's only when he finishes asking his question that he meets your gaze. it's clear in that moment that he didn't expect an answer to his rhetorical question.

feeling only slightly embarrassed, you lower you eyebrows at him, "do you remember last night when you said you don't get paid to talk?" feigning curiosity with your head tilted to the side.

the slightest smile breaks on his face. "very well," eyes diverting away from you and onto the road out in front through the windshield.

the rest of the ride is silent, which your chauffeur took as a sign to turn on the radio. the first piece that blares out ever so softly is liebestraum no. 3.

the car then comes to a halt in front of a private wine bar. sicheng opens his door and holds onto the handle as he waits for you to shuffle out behind him. then, he shuts it and waves the driver off to a direction. you readjust your outfit from having been sat down.

carefully, you traipse your way towards the entrance of the wine bar, being deliberate to not place a heel down in between the crevices of the cobblestone that lined the courtyard.

"i'm surprised you haven't voiced your displeasure for me going out of the house, yet," you remark, "surely, my father told you i was not to be let out."

for having been against the idea of having a bodyguard just yesterday, you seem to have grown rather used to having sicheng around you rather quickly. you can only hope that he doesn't pick up on this.

"not to be let out without protection, yes."

he's quick on the draw. you pause right in front of the heavy mahogany door, the top of it curved inwards to a sharp point. your eyes gloss over the coffee brown grain pattern before you place a palm onto it and push inwards.

...

it's been a few hours since you've arrived back home from the wine bar, having picked out the perfect gift for the gala host tonight. sunset falls upon the horizon and that's your cue to start getting ready.

you've always had a habit of putting on your makeup by yourself as opposed to having someone else do it for you. however, that habit doesn't carry over to styling your hair.

you're sat in front of a full length mirror, a baroque style detailing frames the entirety of it. priscilla, one of the housemaids who's similar in age to you, stands behind you, attentively pinning the hair in the back of your head into a detailed updo. you look at your dress in the mirror. the square neckline makes space for your freshwater pearl necklace that glows softly against your skin.

"and... all done," priscilla announces.

you turn your head in the mirror to get a better view of her work, "it's a beautiful job." you stand from your seat, catching her eyes in the reflection, "thank you."

she smiles brightly, her youth glints in her eyes. "here," she looks to the side to grab a pair of long silk gloves, holding it out to you. you pull them over your left hand all the way up to your elbow, then your right, struggling a little over the bandage wrapped around your palm.

after tucking your purse in between your arm and your ribs, you're ready to head out.

sicheng is already in the foyer, waiting for you. when your heels first click against the quartz stairs, his eyes darts toward you at the top of the spiralled staircase. you delicately place a hand on the iron banister and as you make your way down the steps, you glide your gloved palm along the railing.

sicheng watches your every action.

when you reach the bottom of the staircase, you shake your head gently to push back the strands of hairs that had fell in front of your face.

"how do i look?" you ask with a teasing smile.

you can see sicheng's lips part faintly, only for him to clear his throat right after. "as you do normally, miss ln." he subtly straightens his posture and pushes his shoulders back. "after you," he gestures towards the front door.

...

sicheng pulls open the door closest to you. he extends his palm towards you, with his other hand cradling a small, rectangular wooden box. you take his hand as you lift one foot out of the vehicle and onto the tiled courtyard of the xiao family house.

the butler comes to greet you. you've known him and the family that he works for for as long as you can remember, and seeing him again tonight struck a chord within you. a certain spark of gloom settles inside your stomach when you see him smile, his wrinkles deeper and his hair greyer than you remember.

the butler leads you down the main entrance hall towards the gala that's already well under way behind the closed doors. you've been down these halls more than a handful of time, the same paintings have been hung up on the walls for at least a decade, but the air of elegance and grandeur that the xiao family home exudes never fails to knock your breath out of you.

sicheng notices you seemingly lost in a thought, and before the trio of you reaches the superfluously tall double doors, he quietly utters, "is everything alright?" being mindful and not wanting the butler to overhear if something was amiss.

you glance over your shoulder, out of your trance, "yes."

he doesn't press, anymore. even if he did want to ask more, ask if you were sure, he knew his place, and so he didn't pry further.

the butler pushes open the double doors and a gentle puff of wind blows against you, travelling along with the music to your ears. "enjoy the gala," he smiles, and you return his display of friendliness.

as he walks back down the other direction, sicheng inches ever so slightly closer to you.

the cold and eerily too refined hallway is starkly contrasted by the lively atmosphere of the gala ballroom. attendees are chatting, networking, dancing. they all look extremely distinguished; pearls and diamonds and crystals draped all over them. the chandelier hanging in the middle of the ballroom is glistening, and a small orchestra is performing at one end of the hall.

you pause on top of the stairs for a moment, taking in the scene in front of you, and simultaneously searching for a face. then, you find it.

you begin to make your way down to where everyone else was on the dance floor, and sicheng follows closely behind you. as you weave your way in between the attendees, your senses are hit and overwhelmed with notes upon notes of fragrances. it transitions from roses to vanilla, cedarwood to bergamot. individually, these aromas would typically be more than pleasant, but combined together along with the heat emanating off everyone, it muddled your senses so much that a headache began to creep its way into your temples. it's clear as you manoeuvre your way across the dance floor, that sicheng stood out to everyone as an unusual date of yours. they would flash a faint smile at you then take one, or two glances at the man trailing behind you. guards weren't uncommon, yes, but to bring a personal guard to a gala hosted by a well respected member of the upper echelon? that was uncommon.

finally, you're face to face with the person you've been looking for: the host.

"mrs. xiao."

"yn!" she enthusiastically greets you, a beaming smile on her face. her arms open up and pull you into a warm embrace. "goodness, i haven't seen you in so long!" she expresses as she begins to pull away.

"i know, it's been way too long," you politely respond.

if you were talking to anyone else in this room, you'd be dead before you were caught speaking so casually to them. but you grew up next to mrs. xiao and her family. her son, dejun, was practically your childhood best friend. well, it's hard to tell if a best friend really is a best friend when that was your only option, but nonetheless, your two families were close.

"oh!" you voice as you turn around to sicheng. you stretch your hands towards the wooden box that he was carrying and he places it gently into your palms. "here, i got you some merlot," you turn back around, "i asked barnie at the winery to give me your favourite," a curl stretched your lips taut.

a wave of gratitude washes over mrs. xiao's face. "you're still as thoughtful as ever, yn." she takes the box into her arms, and as if on cue, someone dressed in a neat uniform comes towards mrs. xiao and takes the box away so that she doesn't have to carry it herself for more than a couple of seconds.

and right at the moment, dejun approaches where you are stood in the centre of the ballroom, walking alongside some other guests, one you know, the other you don't.

mrs. xiao turns to him, trying to contain some of her agitation as she mutters, "where have you been this whole night?"

"i've been in here, ma," he responds equally as quiet, but more passive aggressively, disguised with that bright smile of his.

mrs. xiao turns her head away from him with her nose up, trying to swallow down her irritation. "anyway," she breathes out. "dejun, aren't you going to introduce your friends?"

he took that as a sign to do as his mother asked, but not before sighing a shallow breath first. in an instant, he puts on a charming smile. you know he's not doing it for you, he couldn't care less about being charming towards you; both of you knew you would see right through it anyway. "yn, this is rin. rin, yn. and hendery's here as well, i guess," he mutters the last part of his sentence.

you stifle back a smirk at dejun's attempt at humour and extend your palm for a handshake with rin. "it's a pleasure to meet you." she doesn't say anything but shakes your hand gently and mirrors your smile back to you, except hers looks very practiced and unnatural.

mrs. xiao tuts her teeth, so subtly that it's barely audible. she turns her body into you ever so slightly, leaning forward and muttering under her breath into your ear, "i really wish you were here to stop my jun兒 from falling into these circles. look at them, no manners at all."

dejun watches almost awkwardly, then he switches the attention onto you. "what about you, yn? aren't you going to introduce us to your little armpiece?" he cocks his head in sicheng's direction.

mrs. xiao shoots dejun a stern look, one that carries the weight of a thousand words. but in front of such a crowd, the extent of her reprimanding ends at, "don't speak so crass."

dejun only shoots up his eyebrows in response, and sucks in a quiet breath.

"this is dong sicheng," on instinct, your hand sweeps out to the side of you and sicheng nods. "he's the... bodyguard, that my father hired."

"bodyguard, huh?"

"don't start, xiaojun," you try your best to make it seem subtle enough, but dejun chuckles at the sight of you rolling your eyes.

mrs. xiao cuts through the brief pause in conversation, "well, we would love to stay and chat more but i should go greet some of my other guests. you don't mind, yn?"

"no, of course, not."

mrs. xiao gives you one last squeeze before she's off again waving halfway across the room to somebody else, and dejun and his friends trail behind her.

you're about to turn around when a waiter passes by you and sicheng, one hand balancing a tray full of glasses of champagne.

"a drink, miss?"

you pinch the stem of the glass in between your fingers and your thumb. when the waiter offers one to sicheng, he declines.

as you bring your champagne up to your lips, sicheng slips his fingers around the bowl of your glass and forcibly pulls it away from you. "he offered you one," you look at him in disbelief, but he acts as if you didn't say anything.

he hovers the rim of the glass under his nose, swirling the champagne around as he does so. you watch, still half incredulous and half in puzzlement. he brings the rim up against his lips, tipping the glass towards him as he takes the tiniest sip of champagne that you’ve ever seen. as he swallows, he smacks his lips together lightly, then he passes the glass back to you.

“what was that for?” hesitantly, you sit the bowl of the glass back into your palm. you’re not sure if you should sip from the same cup as he did—is that even appropriate in this setting?

“not laced,” he states nonchalantly, eyes darting around the room.

it takes your brain a few seconds to fully process what he just did, and said. “and why would it be laced?” a confusion intertwined with your voice.

sicheng stares at you, not blankly, but not aggressively either. it’s like you can read what he’s doing in his head, going down winding paths to find you an answer, but you can’t read exactly what it is that he’s thinking.

he finally responds after a good few moments of him turning your question over in his head. “you are my responsibility,” he can sense that you are about to object this statement, so he quickly continues. “regardless of what you may think, you are. whatever i do, i do in your best interest. do you understand now?”

truthfully, you want to reply, ‘not quite.’ how does that explain why your drink at a gala held by people you know, people you trust, would be laced?

sicheng leans in close enough so that you can hear him at a whisper, but not so close that people will see and start to speculate. "miss ln, may i remind you you're a successor. i know you've already lived through some threats, but if they were willing to threaten you when you arguably held no power, imagine what they would do if they knew you were taking over your father's position as mayor."

he backs away; face still as cold as steel, not letting anything that he's thinking or feeling show. you can't help but feel a bit shaken at his words. yes, you've received threats before, but they were mostly empty-handed words scribbled on a note. you never thought anything of them, until sicheng said something just now.

"there's no reason people here of all places would want to do anything to me; you're too paranoid." as the words leave your mouth, you can feel your doubt coating your tongue, but you wash it down with some sparkling wine. just a little bit.

sicheng studies your expression for a second, his head tilting slightly to the side. "have you ever heard of a wolf in sheep's clothing, miss ln? maybe you're not paranoid enough," his last word drags off and almost becomes inaudible.

you blink your lashes a couple of times looking up at him, and then an echoing voice pierces right through the ballroom.

"hello everyone! thank you all for attending my little gathering."

both you and sicheng turn your heads to the origin of the sound. mrs. xiao is stood on the little stage that the orchestra has been performing on.

a pleasant smile drawing on her face as she addresses her guests, "it is so great to see so many of you. as you all know, my husband and i-"

the lights cut. the chandelier that was hanging above the dance floor flickers off.

mrs. xiao's voice can be heard again, but this time loudly proclaiming without the help of her microphone over the gasps and murmurs of confusion. "everyone please remain calm—i'm sure the lights will be back on soon."

a sudden pang of fear hits you. your heart thumps faster in your chest, and your breathing becomes shallower and shallower. there's darkness all around you. you try your best to look for, or rather, feel around for sicheng but you remain quiet, knowing it will only add to the chaos. people all around you are shuffling, nudging everyone else. whispers and mumbles all fade into a singular stream of white noise around you. then, you feel a hand grasp on your upper arm. a sense of relief washes over your mind, sicheng. but then, the grasp feels begins to dig deeper and deeper into you, and it becomes clear to you that whatever grasping you isn't a hand. at least, it's not a hand coming into direct contact with you. the fingers digging into your arm are clothed by a silk or sorts; sicheng didn't wear gloves.

you try to free your arm by wrangling it away from whoever it is that has a hold on you. then, in an instant, you feel the hand drop from you so forcibly that it tugged your arm downwards along with it. a new hand has made its way onto you, this time just slightly below your shoulder. you hear a whisper in your ear, "come on, let's go," and the relief you felt earlier resurfaces. this time, it's definitely sicheng's voice.

he takes hold of your wrist, not too tight but just enough to guide you to the exit. as you two are about to head up the stairs to the double doors, the lights flicker back on and mrs. xiao is on stage again.

"there we are. i apologise profusely for that disruption," her hands grip onto the mic stand tightly.

sicheng leads you up the stairs and out the doors without second guessing; everyone else seemed too caught up in the middle of the chaos to notice.

...

back at your home, you and sicheng enter through your foyer and he's spluttering out orders and demands over the phone. as you pass by the large circular mirror hanging in one of the walls of the foyer, you catch a glimpse of your reflection. you double take. one of your ears are still adorned by the beautiful pearl earring that your father had got you, but your other one is missing.

sicheng gets off of the phone that he's been on since the beginning of the car ride home. then, he notices you staring at your reflection in the mirror. "what's the matter?"

you give a gentle shake of your head, fingers drawing at your bare earlobe, "nothing, just one of my earrings is gone."

"i'll have my men try to find it for you," he responds without missing a beat. "miss ln, are you sure that nothing else happened whilst the lights went out?" his eyebrows curve in a slight s-shape.

"yes, i already told you. someone grabbed me by the arm, but that was it. maybe they just thought i was someone they knew."

sicheng shows no reaction to your theory, "i will have this investigated, miss ln. i advise you to get some rest," he says with a bow of his head.

your nightly routine goes by like a blur. priscilla has been dismissed for the night, so you undo your hair, your gown, and clean off your makeup all by yourself, but your mind isn't fully in the present.

sicheng went off after telling you to get some rest, presumably to inform your father about what'd happened. you don't know for certain if he's still speaking to your father, or if he's standing outside your door right now.

it's not that your mind is dwelling on what happened; in fact, you are precisely thinking of nothing. everything in your vision passes by you like you're watching someone else lead their life. even as you get changed, crawl into bed, and try to drift to sleep.

suddenly, you hear a creak from outside your window. your eyes shoot open. trying your best to calm yourself, you reason that it's probably just mice who'd made their way into your garden. a strong gust of wind blows past. then, silence.

and another creak. all logic and rationale flys out of your mind. the only thing you can think of to do is...

"sicheng!"

you tried your best to hold your own earlier, down in the foyer, but right now the sense of urgency in your voice betrays you. sicheng bursts into your room, the buttons of the collar of his shirt undone.

"yes, miss ln?"

his eyes are solely focused on you, despite you looking out towards the windows.

"there's... i heard some weird noises," you gesture with your head pointing at the garden.

sicheng follows your gaze, then he looks back at you. he could tell you that you're in your own home, that you're safe, but instead, he walks over to your windows and draws open your curtains. "there's nothing here, miss ln." hoping that he can provide you with some reassurance, he looks back at you, "we've already done a perimeter check, you're safe here, i assure you."

you drop your eyes, responding with a gentle nod of the head.

"i'll be outside," he says as he begins to make his way back to the door.

before he can reach the handle, you stop him, "wait." he looks at you with an expectant expression. "can't you just stay here?"

even though he's a distance away, you notice a flinch in his brows as he registered your words. "i'm afraid that's not appropriate, miss ln." he says this, but he doesn't take another step.

"there," you point towards the sofa chair to the right side of your bed, "at least just stay there." you wanted to add a 'please,' maybe plead with him, but your dignity had to be kept even if you were fearful.

he doesn't protest as much as you thought he would. quietly, he shuts your door and makes his way to the chair.

your fingers hop from one note to another, pressing down with force and lifting again at the flick of your wrist. a familiar tune emanates throughout the room, rising up to the skylight, then sinking back down again.

your hands dance along the keys of the grand piano at the bottom of your staircase. a bittersweet melody fills your ears, and as you come to a decrescendo in the piece, the faint sound of footsteps through the marble halls overtake your playing. you swiftly turn your head around.

sicheng is stood behind you. under the bright morning light, his cheekbones stand out prominently. "i've been looking for you, miss ln," his chest falls as he says this.

"you dozed off," you turn your attention back to the piano, "i didn't want to wake you."

"i apologise; it won't happen again."

"you need to rest, too," you raise your hands and gently set them on top of the keys, "do you even sleep?"

there's a slight break in between your asking of the question and his answer. "occasionally, but not when i'm supposed to be on duty."

you turn back around, "well, like you said: i'm safe here." you scan him up and down, he's changed out of the outfit he wore to the gala last night, but all his outfits resemble each other. a black button up shirt, a fitted black blazer, black suit paints, a black tie, and a small white brooch on the lapels of his blazer. "do you play?"

he looks to be slightly caught offguard, "no. well, yes but-"

"play something for me."

you shuffle yourself to one side of the bench, making room for sicheng next to you. he slowly walks around and slides into the spot you've made for him. for the first time, you can visibly see that every one of his actions are carried out with hesitation.

his posture is perfect, head slightly tilted downwards and a curve at his wrist as his fingertips lay upon the whites of the piano keys. he clears his throat. then, a single note as he presses down with his index finger. the beginning is slow, slower than the piece was intended to be, but you know what he's playing regardless. nocturne op. 9 no. 1. there's a certain silent agony in the way he punctuates the flow of the melody. the second of the set of nocturnes that chopin had composed has always been regarded as chopin's more famous piece of work over this one. yet, the manner in which sicheng plays this piece makes you wonder why.

the stiffness that was prevalent in his body is now gone, fully immersed in the rhythm. the crescendo comes devastatingly, he leans forward into it, the melody tugging at your chest despite it sounding a bit brighter than the introduction of the piece. you watch in silence as his fingers glide and cross over each other masterfully, a sonorous tone emitting from his movements.

he doesn't finish the piece, but he finds a place to stop after a minute or so of playing.

his fingers linger on the notes as the melody fades out gradually.

"you play beautifully," softly, you remark, "where did you learn?"

he lifts his hands from the keys, clasping them together on his lap. "thank you—my mother taught me."

you watch as he swallows, his adam’s apple dipping slightly. a thought occurs to you. you barely know anything about this man who’s supposed to protect you. maybe that’s for privacy, confidentiality, or security reasons but, there’s a certain yearning in you that wants to find out more about him. after all, trust can’t be built without a foundation. you just don’t know where to prod.

“…and what about your dad?”

sicheng glances over at you, slightly confused at your sudden interest in him. his eyebrows flinch again. “he, uh, used to work for your father. that’s why i’m here. my family owes a lot to your father.”

he gulps again.

you’re not completely sure how to navigate through this conversation. do you ask where his father is now? what if it’s a sensitive spot, why else would sicheng be acting this uncharacteristically. his cold and cool demeanor seemingly melted away. “your father… is he…”

you don’t finish your sentence, but sicheng knows what you’re hinting at. “no, no. he’s just retired. too many injuries on the job.” he clears his throat and stands up from the bench. “sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude on your space, miss ln.” he begins to walk back around the bench.

you can’t help but let out a faint chuckle. “drop the title already. it’s just yn.”

he’s standing tall, hands clasped in front of him, and he purses his lips together. he dips his head rather jerkily, “as you wish.”

then, a ping sounds out.

you pick up your phone that was laid out on the top cover of the piano, and sicheng fishes for his in the inside pockets of his blazer. as he brings out his phone, you begin to hear a vibration sounding out. he holds it in his hand and flashes a quick glance at you, “excuse me,” then he accepts the call. as he brings it up to his ear, he spins on his heel and start to walk off into a distant hallway.

you divert your attention back onto your screen and begin to see messages popping up at the bottom. ones from dejun that read:

"my mum would like to apologise to everyone here about what happened yesterday."

it's sent to the group chat thread that you rarely respond to, though, you do keep up with its messages.

then, another:

"i don't believe in apologies without actions, so you're all cordially invited to come to dreamers' oasis in d119 tomorrow night."

"on me."

the last message was an important detail. you click on the notification bubble and already see others typing in the group chat.

hendery writes, "you are so gonna regret saying that."

a tiny smile creeps its' way onto your face. your thumbs begin moving on the keyboard; hitting send on a message that says, "hendery's going to bankrupt you," which earned you a dislike from dejun.

he ignores your comment, "will you finally be joining us yn? you know, seeing as it's your last week as a free woman."

the last part of his sentence hits you; maybe not to that extreme but it is your last week before you have to take on your father's responsibilities.

every time dejun invites you to a night out, it's most of the time a no brainer and not in a positive way. all the clubs and bars that your friends choose are out of your district's boundaries. and it's not like you didn't have clubs and bars in this district, but the fun ones—as dejun puts it—are only in district 119. you've only taken the risk a couple of times, but now, with especially an extra pair of eagle eyes on you, the possibility of sneaking out is practically 0.

before you can respond, hendery already sent out a message in your place, "have you seen her little boyfriend yesterday? there's no way man."

as much as you want to disagree, you can't. there is no way.

"not my boyfriend," you finally type out.

messages keep popping up on screen, a plan coming together with the people that can go. before you exit out of the thread, you type in "i'll see what i can do," but you stop short of pressing send.

quietly, you head off in the same direction as sicheng, scanning the halls for any sign of him. you're not quite sure what you'll do once you see him. beg him? please let me go out with my friends and get wasted? no. you haven't reached that point, yet; you still have some decorum within you.

you spot him still talking over the phone behind a marble pillar. as silently as possible, you sidle over to where he is, not wanting to disrupt him. once you're close enough, you catch glimpses of his conversation that he's having: "do you understand? whatever you do... we can't let her find out what happened."

your brain made the connect pretty quickly, the 'her' in question had to be you—who else? and what is he keeping from you? he continues speaking but nothing is going through you. all you can think about is, what is he not telling me? as quietly as you came, you retrace your steps back into the piano room.

you'd be lying if you said there wasn't a spark of fury beginning to catch within you. if you are to trust sicheng, why would he purposefully keep something from you? the more you think about it, the more agitated you grew. the fact that he seemed to treat you like a child needing protection every step along the way annoyed you—and what if his intention wasn't to protect you? your head can only spin with theories and speculations.

you unlock your phone again, and hit send on the last message you typed out.

...

your father wanted to have dinner with you tonight, alongside sicheng, of course. and you know now after sitting down to begin your meal, he really wanted to have dinner with sicheng tonight.

"any updates?" your father directed the inquiry towards your bodyguard.

the three of you are sat on a long, oval table. your father sitting at one end, and you and sicheng sitting across from him, sharing the other end. the candelabra stands in between you and your father in the middle.

"no, not yet, sir. we're still trying to investigate the intent behind yesterday's actions."

he finishes his sentence before continuing to cut into his ribeye. you sit adjacent to him, observing every movement he takes. as he stabs into the meat with his fork and brings it up into his mouth. he sets his fork down on the edge of the plate, bringing the napkin laid flat on his lap up as he chews.

"yn, you're not hungry?" your father's voice booms from across the room, breaking your attention away from sicheng.

you look down at your plate, barely touched aside from you swirling the sauce around. "no, i'm afraid not." you set down the fork that you have been toying with flat on the tablecloth. you pull the napkin from your lap and place it on the other side of your plate. standing up, you voice, "i'm a bit weary tonight." you spot sicheng shifting to get up from his seat in your peripheral, "no, no, please finish dinner. father, would you excuse me?"

"well... of course," with your father's approval, sicheng sits back down. you turn around, the heels you're wearing click at a steady pace as you're headed for the doors.

you haven't spoken directly to sicheng since dinner last night. the whole of today you spent cooped up in the library. that's not to say that you were being passive, though.

you haven't forgotten about dejun's invitation for drinks tonight—you just needed the perfect cover.

it's around 8pm, your maids have come and gone bringing you food and tea from time to time. you glance at the grandfather clock propped up against the wall in between all the bookshelves.

you slide the book that you've held in your hands back into its spot on the shelf. rather than actually reading it, your eyes have been skimming the pages and the words scattered throughout absent-mindedly. you turn your plan over around in your mind as you did so, and you have been for the past few hours, at least.

you drag your feet over the wooden floorboards of the library and crack open the doors. you peak your head out into the crack, then the rest of your body follows. oddly enough, sicheng isn't standing right in front of the room.

like a stereotypical action movie, you give the hallways a quick glance in one direction, then the other. you've never felt as much like a thief in your own home. sneaking, tiptoeing around the hallways, caution bubbling in every part of you.

when you reach your bedroom doors, footsteps sound behind you.

the looming presence of someone else doesn't speak, the only indication of them even being there is the shadow of them casted over your own feet.

you turn around, and you're met with the face that you've come to expect these past few days. "i'm... having an early night in."

sicheng's expression is unfaltering. the return of his stoicism makes you feel like a schoolchild being reprimanded by some vague authority figure; desperate to give more and more answers, to keep speaking and reasoning.

he watches your frozen body, as if you'd been caught doing something you're not supposed to, when in reality you're just stood outside of the doors to your own bedroom. "just thought i'd tell you," you add.

"well, don't let me stop you." his torso leans forward ever so slightly, the tone of his voice catching on the edge of a faint whisper.

the handle of the door clicks as you push onto it. when you look back to shut it, sicheng repositions himself with his back to the wall that lines the outside of your room.

once you're completely alone, you strip yourself of the sleeping clothes that you'd been wearing for entirety of today immediately and go over to your closet where you'd already hung up an outfit that you picked out last night.

you slip it on hastily: a tight fitting camisole top with a miniskirt, paired with some knee high leather boots and an oversized jacket for warmth. most of this outfit doesn't even look like it belongs to you. the people in your life knows you for wearing pretty dresses and skirts that reach your knees at least, but if tonight's going to be anything close to fun, then you need to look the part. you can't afford sticking out like a sore thumb, especially in district 119.

you'd texted your friends—or rather xiaojun, and his friends—earlier, asking if they could park right outside the gazebo at the far end of the garden, waiting for you to show up. this plan has worked precisely 2 times before with a 100% success rate, and you're counting on it working for a third time.

you would open the doors to your balcony, climb over the balustrade and scale your way downwards on the water pipe right next to your balcony landing. the garden wasn't fenced in like the front of the house. after all, this house was on private land belonging to your father; anyone who tried to trespass would've been seen by at least one person working on the property. so, it was an easy enough escape from the garden compared to your exit route down from your room.

you walk through the gazebo, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket as you try to shake the cold of the night off of you. dejun's suv is there, headlights off.

they must've seen you even in the dark, because once you're about a step or two away, the passenger door to the suv swings open—dejun himself in the driver's seat.

...

after finding a quick place to park, you and the group walk a block to where the club is, having had a drink or two on the way here.

the streets are anything but quiet. the heavy void of the sky sits atop the city like a dome, the neon signs colouring the deep blue like a palette of dulled paint. the closer and closer you get to the club, the music already begins to boom from within. laughter erupts from the rest of the group from a joke that you missed.

a pair stands right outside the entrance of the club, one of them leaning against the brick wall whilst the other squats; cigarettes in both their hands. you hold your breath as you walk right into a fresh cloud of smoke, courtesy of the man standing up.

on one hand, you want to let loose tonight; have fun. but on the other, you can't help but wonder if you were meticulous enough, or even at all. there's no guarantee that sicheng wouldn't just open your door and find that you are nowhere within the vicinity. but he wouldn't for no reason, you try to calm your racing mind.

you find yourself at the back of the pack, watching everyone in front of you filter into the entrance, disappearing into the darkness surrounded by a rectangular frame.

dejun is right in front of you, he takes note of your hesitation. he comes back down from the steps leading to the entrance stopping right next to you.

lowering his head, he looks at you through his brows, "don't tell me you're gonna pussy out when you're right outside."

you try to dismiss the doubts flaring around in your head. "you wish. drinks still on you, right?" you shoot him a quick wink, then stride up the steps and like others before you, submerge into the darkness.

and immediately, flashing lights take over the darkness. a neon green fog floats just above the floor. a circular platform stands in the middle of the club with a metal pole going through the centre of it. the club itself is a lot bigger than you'd imagined, given what the exterior of it looked like. circle booths surround the platform and smaller ones are peppered all throughout. the ceiling is tall with decorative vines and ivies hanging from it, not low enough for anyone to reach. 2 bartenders stand behind the bar, busying themselves with orders upon orders for a room of, what looks to be about 200 people. a small, spiralled staircase stands to the right of the bar, leading to what resembles a loft platform with people drinking and laughing up on it.

it's as if your feet are stuck to the ground as you take in the scene before you. dejun places a hand on the small of your back. he utters right by your ear, "come on, that way," as he guides you towards one of the bigger booths right in front of the platform.

you plop down on the red leather couch, warmed against the back of your thigh.

remixes of popular songs blast unapologetically out of the speakers that lined every few inches of the walls. you can hardly hear the people in front of you speaking, debating what drinks to get first. you lean forward, wanting to get an in on what they're discussing. shots, shots, shots. after a word or two from dejun, everyone agrees that they should do shots first. melon flavoured, to be exact.

dejun vanishes into the group of people crowding around the bar.

"so, yn, how's leaving your house for the first time ever?" one of dejun's friends sprouts up.

you can feel your breathing pick up its pace. you weren't expecting much conversation seeing as 'friends' isn't exactly the label you'd put on these people, with the exception being dejun, and maybe hendery.

"great actually, thanks." you slide back into your spot on the booth, only slightly cramped with the amount of people sharing one area.

hendery lands a punch on the guy's arm, "watch how you speak to our princess." a smirk picks up on the guy's lips as hendery finishes his sentence, his tongue poking into the crevice of his cheek.

and just as quickly as the attention turned to you, it leaves you even faster. comments are thrown around about the female bartender.

"hendery, i'll give you £100 if you don't ask for her number tonight," someone chimed.

hendery quickly steals a glance at his phone before returning his eyes to the bettor, "i guess we're not leaving until after midnight, then." he sits back, throwing an arm around the girl next to him.

dejun makes his way back, hands holding as many shots as he could—which was 8. not all of them were filled equally, which you can only assume was attributed to dejun's bumping into people as he was on his way back. the small glasses were filled with a somewhat cloudy liquid. everyone picked up a shot as he set them down on the glass table, including you.

"to xiaojun bankrolling us!" a voice chirped up with a glass in the air. everyone else followed with a chorus of cheers, clinking the shots together before tipping their heads back and downing it.

as you swallow, there's a hint of sweetness from the melon flavour but the vodka is inescapable. you can feel it travel all the way with a burn down your oesophagus until it settles in your stomach, a heat spreading from it.

...

the overwhelming boom of the music does not phase you anymore. you are past the point of hazy where the only thing you can comprehend is what is immediately happening in front of you. object permanence? gone.

for the past few hours, you and the rest of the group you came here with downed shot after shot, drank beer after beer. no matter how high your tolerance was, tonight definitely pushed you over that line.

"xiaojun!" you shout across to your friend at the bar. he acknowledges you with a quick wave of his hand.

the others have their arms around each other's shoulders, foundering as they approach the exit. you lean against one of the walls right in front of the fog machine, waiting for dejun.

"come on, yn!" one of the girls shout, grabbing your wrist in her hands and linking you to the rest of the group. dejun finally makes his way back over, and instinctually you fling an arm around him, too.

the bunch of you look ridiculous; grown adults stumbling their way out of a club in the dark. half present smiles seemingly glued onto your faces. all of you count together as one by one, you take the couple of steps down onto the pavement.

once back on the street, you open your eyes to more than just a squint. the road looks the same as before. time has no effect on this district, neon signs still alight with strangers roaming the streets at any hour of the day. you bask in the warm orange glow of the lamp post directly above you, and you scan around for dejun's suv.

and that's when you see something across the road.

a tall, lean figure slanted against the hood of a car. you recognise his posture all too well.

oh shit. shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

you'd gotten so carried away tonight that you completely forgot that you weren't even supposed to be here. the drinks flushed every doubt, every worry out of your mind. it is only when your eyes see sicheng standing right across the road from you, and your mind consciously registers that, that every thing you tried to forget comes rushing back to you.

"xiaojun," you mutter under your breath, but he's not entirely in it, either.

sicheng spots the group of you, head tilted, and that's the moment he recognises you, in an outfit he'd never seen you in before, around people that he has seen before. he pushes himself off of the hood and crosses the road. you have exactly 3 seconds before you're done for.

the night is blustery, gentle, but breezy nonetheless. he's wearing a white button up with his sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone. as he's making his way towards you, his hands are tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

sicheng takes 3 steps onto the pavement that you're on, and you are met face to face with the guard that you attempted to escape tonight. he quickly eyes the rest of your group, too drunk to even comprehend what is happening and who he is. a misstep happens and three of them stumble, fall, and stack on top of one another. they laugh it off.

he returns his gaze to you. "miss ln."

it's magical the way you suddenly feel sober. confrontation is one hell of an antidote. "listen," you breathe out. but it's no use, even you know it.

sicheng spares you no pity. "shall we head home?"

you don't know what you prefer: him still being cool and calm and collected, or have him be so seethingly furious with you like your father would be. in that moment, you decide that his reaction is much worse. how can he stand there with the state of you like this and still ask such a question with a steeled face? does he not care?

you look over to dejun, who has now walked around you to help his other friends get up.

trying to make up your mind whether to plead your case in that moment, there is something else that you can decide easier. going home with sicheng. there's no use fighting it, and frankly, you didn't want to. so, you take a step, passing by where sicheng stood in front of you, and then another, and until you're across the road about to get into the car. your friends left on the curb—they'll manage, you figured.

your body can't help but shake as you step into the passenger seat. a jittery feeling overtakes you. do you explain? do you not? what even is the explanation?

sicheng gets into the driver seat. he turns on the engine, back up from the parking spot, and begins to drive off, doing this all without a word.

you steal a glance over at him, not wanting to appear too sheepish. a sudden apologetic sentiment freezes your body, but that same feeling quickly turns sour. you open your mouth to speak, but no noise leaves you. quickly, you snap your head back around and lean against the window. the quietness of the car ride has you feeling all the effects of the events tonight.

"you didn't think i'd know?"

your eyes shift over. sicheng's focus is entirely on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that the veins on his arms are prominent under the moonlight. he might not sound angry, but his body language gives it away.

"no, i thought..." you take a deep breath in. "i don't know what i thought," you finally admit.

if he'd heard your answer, he gave no indication of it. he continues driving, fingers still clenched tightly around the wheel. his silence lingers around for a good few minutes. no music, nothing; just the sound of the friction of the tyres speeding against tarmac.

"if something had happened to you, do you know what that means? for all of us?" he asks, in a tone that's more or less condescending.

you stay quiet—you didn't see a point in arguing your case. or maybe it was just the alcohol taking the fight out of you, the steady rocking of the ride seem to begin to lull you to sleep.

the rest of the car ride home was silent. sicheng's grip never loosened. and you can tell none of his frustration dissipated by the way he slammed the car door shut.

as noiselessly as possible, the two of you slide in through the main doors into the foyer. you pull on the heels of your boots to take them off, struggling with your balance slightly. as you're about to make your way up to your room with your boots in your hands, sicheng stops you with one statement.

"i won't tell your father."

you turn, feeling a disjointed mix of emotions. you're relieved, but confused...? and grateful, but suspicious. "why?" you bluntly ask, questioning his ulterior motives if he has any.

sicheng takes a deep breath in and rolls his head to his left side. he takes a single step towards you. the rest of the house is dark, the only light being from the two sconces on either sides of the foyer. as he looks into your eyes, his irises are two swirling rings of mystery. you can never guess what he's thinking.

"because it won't look good on either one of us," he whispers. "if you wanted to go out, you could've just told me and i would've helped you," he added, now with a certain softness breaking into his gaze.

your focus shifts from one eye to the other. sicheng can read every wrinkle in your brow and every glint of confusion in your stare. what are you supposed to make of the fact that the man your father hired to watch you like a hawk is willing to help you get up to things your father will never approve of?

"but why?"

it's as if the drinks had broken down your every guard, every filter that you're so used to imposing on yourself. the bluntness in your tone is something even you didn't recognise.

"tonight proved that you would sneak out regardless of circumstances. so, why not tell me so i can at least keep you as safe as i can?"

sicheng finds himself exploring every inch of your face with his gaze, studying the smudged eyeliner and lipstick on you, before meeting your eyes again. he continues, "i have a job to do, you know?"

it seems as though you're not the only one with a broken down barrier. the formality in which he normally speaks with is nowhere to be heard.

"and why should i trust you?" there's an edge in your voice that makes the question come out as offensive. "i can't," you quickly add before he even has a chance to reply.

and now it's his turn to be stumped. your sudden change in attitude evokes a return of the wince in his eyebrows. "what do you mean?" he falters.

"i heard you yesterday." your head shakes, the clear of your eyes glisten with a lack of faith. "what am i supposed to think of you when you're actively hiding something from me?"

it's like a wave of realisation hits sicheng. he recalls the phone call that he took yesterday, and realises what you must've overheard. it takes him a few seconds to collect his thoughts together.

"you can't possibly think that i would want to harm you."

"i don't know you!" you exclaim, maybe a bit too loud for this hour. "you waltz into my life and tell me that you're trying to save me, but i don't know you."

sicheng exhales and drops his head. his chest rises slowly as he takes in a deep lungful of air. "i didn't want to tell you because i didn't want you to feel... betrayed."

your body language communicates all there is to say. you urge him to go on with a shake of your head and a furrowing in your eyebrows.

"we have reason to believe that..." his voice is small, and soft, as if he's laying down cushioning for telling a child that santa claus isn't real. "the person threatening you runs in your immediate coterie."

your friends. that's what he's hinting at, that's what he's explicitly telling you right now. that possibly someone you went out with tonight have reason to threaten you. sicheng thought that telling you now would diffuse the situation, but in fact, it does the opposite.

"isn't that all the more reason for me to know? and you hid it from me for w-"

"yn," he corrects his slip of words, "miss ln." he cuts you off ever so calmly, "i understand that emotions are heightened right now. i think it's best we talk in the morning."

a knot works its way up into your own chest. your frustration is fuelled even more by his coolness. you stare at his ridiculously poised expression, and in that moment, you give up trying to argue.

you finally begin to walk up the stairs, with your boots still in your hands, ready to crash and give out onto your bed.

you wake up the next morning, or rather the same morning, with a throbbing pain in your head. one of your ears feels blocked and no matter what you do to try and make it so that noise isn't muffled as it filters into your ear, it doesn't work.

in the bathroom, you stare at your reflection and are in shock over how badly you removed your makeup last night. eyeliner stains the corners of your eyelids, patches of concealer are still on the sides of your face. you turn on the faucet, wait for it to become warmer, and scrub the remainder of the products off of your face.

in the midst of washing your face, you realise that you haven't had a proper meal since yesterday afternoon, as signalled by a grumbling in your stomach.

as discreetly as possible, you try to get out of your room, taking a gentle step out onto the hallway. you're not entirely sure why you needed to be stealthy, perhaps it's just the aftereffects of last night.

however, your plan to be concealed quickly falls to shambles as sicheng is, as always, guarding your door outside and your father is walking down the hallway heading in your direction. your heart starts to beat faster and faster; if sicheng didn't stick by his words last night then you are dead for all you know. that conversation you had in the foyer didn't leave your mind even for a second when you tried to fall asleep earlier, and you plan on following up on that talk he offered you.

your father reaches your room and stops to take one look at you.

"goodmorning, father." you utter. a tinge of sheepishness can't help but crawl onto the apples of your cheeks.

"goodmorning, dear," he stretches a warm smile directed towards you, and gives a simple nod of the head to sicheng.

so he didn't lie. that's the first thought following your relief that your father isn't absolutely furious with you. you glance at sicheng as your father walks past you continuing his way down the hallway. he flashes you an expression, one that says, 'what did i tell you?'

sicheng keeps his eyes on your father and as soon as he's out of earshot, he mutters, "surprised?"

a look of almost disbelief takes over you. the nerve on this guy. your heart almost jumped out of your chest and he has the cockiness to make a remark like that.

"stop fucking with me. you still owe me an explanation."

sicheng says with a simple shrug, "i've told you everything i know."

before you can speak back and challenge him, one of your housemaids yell out your name from the foyer.

you quickly make your way downstairs with sicheng following right behind you.

you spot priscilla kneeling down to pick up a package left right in front of the doors to the house. "what is it, priscilla?" you ask, as she begins to stand up again.

"i'm not sure—but it's addressed to you, miss," she responds, reading the tag tied to the parcel with a thin ribbon.

it's odd enough that a package made its way directly onto your doorsteps since the mail that you and your father receive are usually intercepted and collected at the mail room, or placed into your father's study. it's even more strange that it's directly addressed to you with your name typed and printed out in a sans-serif font.

you hold the box in one hand as your other goes to unravel the ribbon. you pull the knot through, and the box undoes itself. the 4 walls fall down revealing another note with your name on it, this time handwritten in a sparkly, gold paint.

you pick the note up and twirl it around with your fingers. sure enough, there's a message for you on the back. it looks like it was typed out on a traditional typewriter, it reads: "next time, i'll have your pretty head along with it" signed with kisses.

you suck in a sharp breath, a shock dawning on you. you look down at the opened box, under the note was a cushioning of tissue paper along with one earring. it took you a few seconds to study the singular earring, then it hits you: the pearl earring that you lost at the gala. your fingers begin to tremble, and sicheng watches as you're overcome with theories and conclusions.

he snatches the note from your hands, eyes scanning every word hastily and sees the earring in the box. it doesn't take him time to put two and two together.

immediately, he voices, "priscilla, did you see who left this outside?"

"no, uh, i opened the door because there was a knock and as soon as i saw the parcel with miss ln's name on it, i called for her." priscilla is evidently taken aback by the sharpness of sicheng's voice. her gestures are overt as she explains the situation.

sicheng pulls his phone out and his thumbs slide over the bottom part of his screen as he swiftly sends out a message.

he turns to you, "i'll go look over security footage right now. yn, go back up to your room." he motions over at priscilla as if to tell her that you needed to be escorted upstairs.

usually, you wouldn't just blindly listen to what anyone tells you, but your mind is running at 100 miles per hour. you recognise that gold paint, the writing, the flicks and hairline strokes that stylised your name. you've received a note from the same person before. only that last time, it wasn't as explicit a threat as it is this time.

...

you haven't stepped foot out of your room since sicheng told you to go back this morning. your maids have come up with breakfast and lunch earlier, but now it's well past dinner time, and the food outside your door remains untouched. the sky outside is darkening, with some rogue streaks of orange and pink as the sun dips below the horizon.

nonstop, you've been thinking it over and over in your head. putting together what sicheng told you and what you know yourself. someone close enough to you is threatening your life—but why? sure, there's the obvious reason that in a matter of days, you may possibly take over your father's title of mayor, but who would risk so much to send you a petty note? and everyone in your circle has a good enough status; what would they have to gain from this? surely, there's a blind spot that you must be missing.

your train of thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a knock at your door.

"come in!"

sicheng walks in to find you curled up in bed, knees tucked against your chest. he glances backwards briefly before closing the door behind him, "you didn't eat?"

"i'm not hungry."

you notice that he's not wearing his usual attire. a thin t-shirt covers his torso, and his regular slack pants are replaced by loose-fitting joggers. his footsteps are muted as he approaches you. there seems to be a debate in his mind whether or not he should be approaching you as he stops with at least 10 feet of space in between you and him.

"did you need me for something?" you mutter, patience thinning out on the edge of your voice.

you watch as he opens his mouth, but a response fails to be conjured up without a pause. "no, i just wanted to check on you."

you throw your blanket off of your feet and push yourself off the bed. the distance that sicheng left between the two of you disappears as you draw nearer to him.

you're not entirely sure what to do, or what to say. you look up at him and he returns your gaze. a breath hitches within you that you try your best to stifle. a knot forms in your throat and you swallow hard, dropping your eyes from sicheng.

"hey," he murmurs airily, bringing his hand up to your face. sicheng stops just short of cupping your face in his palms. you reach for his hand, taking it into your own, and he takes that as a sign to delicately graze your cheek with the side of his thumb. the lightness of his touch floats over your skin. "you're okay," he reassures you with a whisper.

it's hard to pinpoint what it is that you're feeling. there were books and lessons when you were growing up on how to be well-mannered, how to hone in your etiquettes, but there were never any rulebooks to teach you how to feel. especially, in a situation like this. how do we know if there's a right way to process our complexities?

you lean into sicheng's touch. "what can i do for you right now?" his tone coming off as a genuine offer of comfort, rather than him sounding like he is indebted to you.

finally, you lift your head, eyes running up against sicheng until it lands onto his again. "just stay with me tonight," though you meant it as a statement, bordering on an order, it ekes out of you with an uncertainty.

he nods, mouthing a soft 'okay.'

with his hand in your grip, you lead him to the edge of your bed. you can feel the hesitance in him, but he doesn't outright stop in his tracks. sliding into your covers, you shuffle over to make room for sicheng. admittedly, he didn't think this was what you meant when you asked him to stay with you tonight. he thought that he would just spend another night in the chair next to your bed, like he did before, but no.

you sit up against the headboard.

"you're... comfortable with this?" his voice is softer than dusk.

you nod, and with that, he slowly slides into your bed, a respectable distance between the two of you.

sicheng lays on his back, one hand behind his hand as you shift closer to him. though he tries his best to hide it on his face, the beating of his heart gives him away when you lay a hand over on his chest.

he rolls onto the arm closer to you, now face to face with you on the bed, leaving your hand in front of his chest on the mattress. he looks at you with a lustre in his eyes, the strong arches of his brows soften and his eyelids flutter.

you're close enough that you can hear the rhythm of his breathing and feel the warmth of his body against you. your fingers inch back onto his chest, running over the fabric of his shirt delicately, and onto his jawline. the tips of your index finger skim the contour of his chin, and up along his cheekbone. your eyes follow your fleeting touch against his face when it runs back down to the corner of his lips.

there's a few seconds in between you inching closer and closer to sicheng, and him whispering.

"we can't."

you stop—your breathing stops as well.

though you don't voice it out loud, the look in your eyes expresses every ounce of regret that you feel. your hand stiffens on sicheng's face, your fingers resting on the edge of his jaw.

his gaze flickers in between your eyes and your lips. it stays on your lips for a moment longer.

"i can't kiss you like we're lovers, when we're not."

the last three words slip out from his lips breathier than the rest.

you draw your body even closer to sicheng's, until there's only a sliver of empty space in between you.

"then, don't kiss me."

you plant a soft peck on his bare neck, and he can't bite back the tiny hum he lets slip. your lips stick to the warmth of his skin, a saltiness to it mixed with the clean scent of his cologne. simultaneously, he tucks your hair behind your ear, fingers laid flat on the nape of your neck as he pulls you in closer.

his hand runs down the side of you, finding a spot on your waist which he grips onto tighter. your teeth grazes against a vein in his neck and a groan catches in his throat.

your hips seem to have a mind of their own as they start swaying forwards, colliding with sicheng's thighs. "what are you doing to me?" he mumbles under his breath, so faintly that you nearly couldn't make it out over your own humming against his neck.

sicheng is overtaken by instinct. his hand find its way between your thighs, sliding up and down over the softness of your skin. you can't help the purrs of approval that tumble out of you involuntarily.

his fingers trace soft, soft rings on the inside of your thighs, stopping just an inch below the hem of your shorts. whatever you've started, you needed to have more of it. you pull your lips away from him and wrap your fingers around his wrist that hovered so close to the heat pooling underneath you. if he wasn't going to touch you, you'd rather have him not tease you at all.

sicheng looks at you through half-lidded eyes with a faint tug on his lips, "put my hand where you want it."

you drag his hand an inch upwards, and almost naturally, sicheng finds his fingers slipping under the fabric of your shorts. "fuck," he breathes out. "you're not wearing anything underneath?" you smirk, unable to say anything because if you did, he would know how insane the raspiness in his voice drove you.

the tips of his fingers trace along the folds of your cunt, smearing your wetness all over. your breath escapes you shakily, and he revels at the sight of you. god. he knew you were pretty but you've never looked prettier than when you're squirming under his touch.

he rubs a loose circle around your clit with his middle finger, eyes steadily watching your every expression. your whole body is electrified. you feel as though you've come alive just from his touch. then, he draws another. you sink your teeth down into your bottom lip, trying to keep your breathing at a constant. the hand that you have wrapped around his wrist untightens itself and it runs up sicheng's arm, nails digging themselves into his bicep as his fingers move faster and faster on you.

then, they slow right back down. your eyelids shutter open fully, looking at him watching you with a gentleness.

he eases one finger inside of you, engulfed into your warmth. a gasp falls upon you quickly followed by a moan, which sicheng muffles with his other hand. he shushes, "you can hold it in, can't you?" you nod your head against his hand covering your lips. so badly, you want to just scream out his name, but you can't.

then, he slides another finger inside. the two of them drag up and down your heated walls, coated in a slickness. you struggle to keep from sounding out noises that ultimately gets caught in your throat. you pull his hand down from your mouth, managing a breathy, "fuck, sicheng."

he continues shushing you, balanced out with a subdued, "i know, i know." the length of his fingers carries on diving deeper and deeper into you, his thumb working small loops on your clit. you can't help but grind down against his hand, meeting him halfway with every stroke. your own fingers replaces his thumb, rubbing so relentlessly that it makes you throw your head back.

you begin to feel a tightening in your core. each moan that comes out of you is strained and muffled, your sealed lips pressing together so hard that it starts to become numb. "i'm so close," you try to voice out but a broken string of whimpers fall out instead.

your knees impulsively push themselves together, trapping sicheng's hand in between your thighs. "yeah, like that, baby. just like that," he picks up the pace in which he plunges his fingers in and out of you, "keep it quiet, though, okay?"

at this point, you've lost focus on what he's saying. the only thing on your mind is how good his fingers feel inside of you, and the violent pressure that your own fingers are exerting isn't helping. your arm is starting to ache when you finally begin to feel the release in your core. the knot tied in your stomach falls apart and so do you. your hand stops and grabs onto sicheng's wrist again. each moan that's knocked out of you quickly transitions into you panting for air. all sicheng can do is caress your cheek as you slowly come down and steady yourself again against his embrace.

you lay there next to him as you're catching your breath. sicheng comforts you with words that you can't quite hear. you take his hand up to your face, fully shutting your legs together, and lick the slickness off of his fingers. he watches you with a groan as you take his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. you pull his hand away slowly, and when your lips close together, he lets go of a deep sigh.

sicheng looks deeply into your eyes, the faintest trace of satisfaction visible on his face. "get some rest now, okay?"

a part of you doesn't want to just stop now, but the other part of you is worn out beyond repair, not just from this. your post-orgasm crash wears over you like a spell putting you to sleep, and you have no will left to fight it. so, before you know it, you drift off to sleep with sicheng's arms wrapped tightly around you and your face pressed up against his chest.

he wasn't supposed to and he wasn't planning to, but sicheng dozed off last night with you cuddled up against him. the only thought running through his head this morning: i fucked up. and that's only taking into account that he literally slept with you next to him.

the chorus of bird chirps sounds aloud from out in the garden. the bright symphonies fill the morning air.

as slowly as he can, he pulls his arm back from underneath you, a tingling feeling spreading from where your head laid upon it. hushedly, he slides his legs off of the edge of the bed, trying not to wake you. he stands up, and his movements are halted by a hum from you.

your eyes peer open, and sicheng is glancing back at you. "morning," he clears his throat, "i didn't want to wake you."

"it's alright," your voice scratches. you push yourself onto your palms and sit up, straightening your back. "um," you stutter out, looking around your bed to avoid any eye contact. there's an unspoken tension between you and sicheng that you can sense right away.

sicheng presses his thumb into the palm of his opposite hand and echoes your filler words.

you want to ask out loud, 'why is it so awkward?' but that will probably do nothing to help ease the atmosphere.

sicheng breaks the silence, "i shouldn't have... came in last night."

your eyes dart towards him, but he's looking down at your sheets. is it bad that you felt a sinking in your chest right as he said that? you didn't think you regretted what happened, but maybe you should given what sicheng's stance on it is.

"i don't..." you trail off, unable to finish the rest of your thought.

"it was my mistake. we don't... have to talk about it."

"is that what it was to you? a mistake?" words take over you before your rational thinking can catch up. if you really slowed down and thought it over, his words probably didn't warrant as much of a reaction, but in the moment, you're hurt and that's all you can focus on.

"no, i mean," sicheng struggles to find the proper words to expand on his point. as he opens his mouth again to speak, he's interrupted by someone else knocking at your door.

the knock is closely followed by a call out of your name, "miss ln!"

it distracts you from the conversation, but sicheng's comment is actively sitting on the back burner of your mind. "yes?" you return.

"your father has arranged some prior engagements for you. your chauffeur is waiting for whenever you're ready."

you can't help but let out your frustration in the form of a quiet 'ugh,' before going back and thanking the messenger, which they then dismiss themselves.

you're not in the mood for whatever errand your father has arranged for you. one, because your body is so physically tired out for some reason that even getting up out of bed will take a substantial amount of effort, and two, sicheng will follow you to whatever activity and there won't be a conclusion to this conversation you're having because there's no way you're willing to discuss this in public.

sicheng speaks up after the footsteps travel away from outside your bedroom door, "i'll leave you to get ready."

"don't-"

but sicheng completely disregards you, and leaves you alone in your room.

...

turns out that the 'errand' your father has planned for you was to pick out a few outfits from the atelier. this past week you've been so preoccupied busying yourself with activities that you haven't fully recognised that your father will officially announce you as his successor in a couple days' time. that means more responsibilities, more problems. you don't know if you're fully prepared for it, but it was never up to you; it never has been.

you posed like a mannequin for the seamstress for a good couple of hours. every blazer and every skirt being tailored to fit you perfectly. sicheng sat in the beige couch in the corner watching patiently as she took in your measurements, held up garment after garment up to you in the mirror, and finally was content with what she had created for you.

by the time you were done, you had a handful of bags in each hand, each containing a new bespoke outfit made just for you.

you're walking out of the studio with your new belongings in your hands, sicheng opening the door for you. the designer bids you an affectionate goodbye and you step out onto the concrete, heading for your ride parked in the middle of the lot.

during the whole of this visit, sicheng hasn't said a word to you. and vice versa. so when he's the first to say something, you try to look at him with an indifference in your expression.

"let me carry the bags," he offers.

"i'm alright, thank you."

you'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit upset with him. although you knew there's nothing to be achieved from petty displays of stubbornness, you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine: his nonchalance, and frankly apathetic attitude.

he doesn't challenge you, perhaps he knows better than to do exactly that. his footsteps trail behind you as you approach the car. your chauffeur pulls open the door to the backseats for you before returning to the driver's seat. sicheng simply observes as you begin to load in the bags, not wanting to tick you off even more by helping.

he catches a flare in the mirror image of the window panes all the way up on the rooftop of a nearby building. he swivels his head around, looking directly at where the spark was in the reflection. his throat tightens.

"yn, get in the car." the calmness in his voice wasn't something you weren't used to, but as you turn and find him fixated at a spot up on a roof, an alarm starts ringing in your head. "now."

you jump up onto the ledge of the footboard and hop inside with a slight panic. sicheng grabs all the remaining bags and throws it in with you. he hastily slams the back door shut and turns his focus towards that same spot again. you can barely see out of the tinted panes, but you think you hear a distant pop and sicheng's body jerks, curving his spine inwards. he clambers into the front seat, a hint of franticness in his movements. the passenger door shuts with a crash and sicheng flings his head back against the headrest.

"drive. go, now." he tells the chauffeur, clearly in a state of confusion, but he listens to sicheng. his voice is weak and breathy, like he just ran a marathon.

you push your way up to the space in between the front seats. "sicheng... what happened?" apprehension sounding out in your words.

he gives a faint shake of the head, his hand gripping tightly onto the fabric over his shoulder as he swallows a lump in his throat. you mutter a faint, 'oh my god,' under your breath as you go to pull his hand away.

sicheng breathes deeper and deeper. you uncover a small hole in his shirt, the edges splayed out with raw threads hanging off of it.

"sicheng-"

"i'm okay," he exhales. does he know how ridiculous he sounds?

a wave of distress suddenly overtakes you. "you're-"

"don't worry, i'm okay."

half of your mind has gone blank, and the other half is still stuck in 5 minutes ago before whatever happened, happened. words tumble out of you, laced with confusion and unease.

...

as soon as you arrive home, you barge in telling your housemaids to call over your doctor. sicheng has one arm wrapped around the chauffeur as he inches in with his help, his other arm limp by his side.

everything blurs past you.

sicheng is set down on the long leather couch, laying against the arm as he holds his shoulder. someone pushes past you to tend to sicheng's injuries, and all you can do is stand and stare.

...

you sit on the other end of the couch watching as the nurse is wrapping bandage around sicheng's shoulder, his torso completely bare. he grunts as she pulls tighter on the strip looping underneath his arm.

"you're lucky it didn't hit you in the ribs, or it'd be a lot worse."

sicheng mutters a soft, 'i know,' sucking in a steady breath.

the bullet sits in a tray next to the couch, completely clean, the light ricochets off of it and it gleams.

you look back over to sicheng, a deep burgundy already seeping its way underneath his skin. if it weren't for the bulletproof undershirt he was wearing, you'd be looking at admitting him into the ER. still, he's not completely devoid of any injuries.

the nurse said that aside from bruising, he had a fracture to his collarbone. "it should heal on its own anywhere in between 6 to 12 weeks."

you nod, and she gives you a brief smile before she helps fasten the sling around sicheng's neck and begins packing up her kit.

several sets of footsteps approach the doorway to the guest room that sicheng was set down in. you don't look over, eyes fixated on sicheng as he winces at any slight movement that he does affecting his injured collarbone.

the footsteps move in closer and closer to you. sicheng hears them as well and opens his eyes. "sir," he manages gravelly.

you and the nurse simultaneously look up, and there you see your father with his assistant a few steps behind him. he nods towards the nurse.

"the doctor couldn't make it on such short notice, but mr. dong's injuries are mild. i've already informed miss ln of mr. dong's condition," the nurse explains to your father.

"thank you for your help," your father tells the nurse. she picks up the kit that she brought with her and bows her head before leaving the room.

the expression on your father's face is ambiguous to say the least.

sicheng takes your father's silence as an opportunity, "i should've been more careful. i'm sorry..."

your father inhales shakily, "it was too close, yes." he looks over at you sitting on the couch, then back at sicheng, "but yn wasn't injured, and i have you to thank for that."

"it's my duty," sicheng simply responds.

your father gives him a satisfied smile. "take some time to rest, i'll have someone else look over your responsibilities for now."

with that, your father and his assistant leaves you and sicheng alone in the guest room, now allocated for his recovery.

you haven't said a word to him since the car ride back.

you sit on the edge of the couch, palms planted flat on either side of you. "does it hurt?" you look over, and sicheng leans on the sofa back, his injured arm suspended in a black mesh sling. his eyes are closed as he takes in a heavy breath after another.

he opens his eyes up to a squint, glancing over at you. "a bit," you think he's gone insane when you see a slight tug at the corner of his mouth.

you shift over towards sicheng, his unwounded shoulder being closer to you. the bandages the nurse had wrapped him up in doesn't entirely cover up his bruising. a gradient of pink, red, and purple spreads over atop his pecs. your fingers trace over his abdomen, hovering when you draw near his injury. "you scared me," you whisper.

"i know," sicheng says, "i'm sorry."

"why would you do that?"

he looks at you, a dazedness in his eyes, "do what?"

"take a bullet like that." you gulp, feeling the coarseness in your throat.

sicheng expels a weak chuckle. "to be honest, i didn't think i would." you peer at him with a tilt of your head. "i was so focused on you not getting hurt, but now that i think about it..."

he trails off.

"what?" you prompt gently.

"i don't think they were aiming at you."

your eyebrows raise themselves gingerly.

"i mean, they had every opportunity to... shoot you, but they didn't. with the time it took me to even notice them, they could've gotten the job done and vanished."

you realise what sicheng's implying. and you suppose he is right. thinking it over in your head, your reaction wasn't the fastest, given the state of shock and confusion that you were in. so, that means they were gunning for sicheng. but why?

he carries on, "and with where the bullet hit me—it was nowhere even near where you were stood." he shakes his head, "it just doesn't make sense."

"so, why?"

"i mean, i don't-"

"no. why would you ever risk yourself like this? a job like this; it surely isn't the first time you got injured."

sicheng looks at your face, so painstakingly close to his. he runs his good hand through your hair, twirling the ends of a strand in between his fingers. "it's not," he smiles weakly, but falls short of an answer to give to you.

you swallow hard. "you know, you've made it clear to me countless times that you're supposed to keep me safe... but who looks after you?"

"i can manage myself."

"i know—you're more than capable. but..." the words you're speaking has to be dragged out of you, a broken intonation. "that's not the same as looking after yourself."

he drops his gaze from yours, fingers now fidgeting and cracking his knuckles as a means of escape from this conversation.

"you don't let me kiss you, you want to forget whatever we did and dismiss it as a mistake. that's fine, but is that what you want, or is it just your guard?"

he turns his head towards yours, but still avoiding eye contact with you. for a moment, you thought he would say something, but he doesn't.

you sigh.

"just let me take care of you while your shoulder heals, okay? i'm here."

you're about to push yourself off of the couch, you lean back, but sicheng holds onto your hand. he draws you in to the spot you were at before. your faces inches apart from each other.

he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, "kiss me."

your heartbeat drums against your lungs. you slide your fingers up onto his face, pulling him in closer. and gently, you oblige.

his lips fit yours perfectly, as if you were both individually sculpted for each other. you try not to lean onto sicheng given his injury, so the most pressure you put on him is through your hands pulling him closer into you. you press your mouth against the softness of his lips, a tenderness to his movements. he breathes your scent in, and it's like it completely soothes the sharpness in his shoulder. you take him in deeper and deeper. his lips had a hint of peppermint to them, but sweeter. he let you utterly devour him against your own lips, fuelling a desire you didn't know you had in you. god, you didn't want to pull away, but your stupid, stupid lungs had to regather some air within them. and you part from him with a gentle smack.

sicheng's eyelids flutter open, like you'd just woken him from a dream. "if your father ever finds out-"

you shush him with a finger up to his mouth. and you attach your lips onto his again.

you're deep into your sleep when you hear alerts coming in nonstop on your phone. you stayed in sicheng's room with him; he's asleep on the bed and you've decided to give him more room by taking the couch. you open your eyes groggily, the sky outside doesn't make it clear to you what time it is. reaching out onto the coffee table, your phone doesn't stop buzzing in your hand.

the brightness of the screen causes you to squint. messages roll in, from dejun. without reading the notifications first, you click onto the grey bubbles. a litter of text threads open up on your phone. ones reading, "are you okay?" and "i heard what happened," and of the like.

stiffly, you go to type in a response. you tell dejun that you're fine, briefly glossing over the situation.

...

the second time you wake up this morning is when you hear sicheng talking to someone just outside of his room, the conversation muffled. he shuffles back in and you're more or less glaring at him, unintentionally.

"who was that?" you strain.

"um," he lightly massages the back of his neck. "they... found the shooter. and he talked."

that instantly catches your attention. you sit up straight, and signal to sicheng to take a seat next to you on the couch.

he slowly paces himself over, his back kept upright the entire time as he sits down next to you.

"the shooter is no one special, but," he begins, an almost sheepish look on him, "he told us who sent him. and we think that it's the same person who sent you that note, with your earring."

"who?" you jump in, impatient for him to tell you.

sicheng looks into your eyes for a split second. the sky outside is still dark. half of your face is lit by the orange ember that glows out from the fireplace.

"who?" you repeated, this time a little bit louder.

"i don't know how close you are to her. rin? full name, rina lee. her dad... owed some debts to your father."

your brows furrow. rin? you've only met her once, and that was at mrs. xiao's gala. what would prompt her to threaten you to such an extreme?

"i'm sorry, it must be-"

"no- what else do you know?"

sicheng sucks in a quick breath. "well, it's rumoured that her father, mr. lee, took a loan from your father. it was never paid back... and let's say your father didn't like that."

you didn't know what to make of your emotions—what to make of yourself. did you deserve this?

subconsciously, you start shaking your head lightly. you were in denial, but of what, you didn't know.

"i'm sorry," is all sicheng can say to provide you with some semblance of solace.

"i just..." you breathe out a heavy breath, "i can't believe it."

"i know, but it'll be over, soon. you'll take on your father's role tomorrow, isn't that something to look forward to?" sicheng tries his best to divert your focus away from the news.

you scoff. and then a sigh.

"i guess."

sicheng runs a hand over your head, smoothing over your hair, "let's go back to sleep, it's still early."

the whole of yesterday you spent getting ready, signing agreements, and attending meeting after meeting with your father. you'd spent the night before tossing and turning, unsure of if you'd be happy with this route that you're headed in.

last night, you were doing the same. tossing, turning, thinking. you never really had a choice, and it's weird how you feel apathetic towards that.

you've always lived comfortably and maybe you're just not ready for that to change yet, that's what you thought to yourself.

you woke up this morning, still a bit shaken up, mind still fuzzied from how your life has spiralled seemingly out of your control over the last week.

and now you're standing behind the drawn back curtain to the balcony, where your father's speech is being broadcasted live.

"serving as mayor to this beautiful district has been one of my greatest prides. but i'm afraid people grow old, and i am experiencing that for myself first hand."

your father's voice wavers, and it stings your cheeks a little.

"nonetheless, i know there has been rumours going around surrounding my retirement. i would like to keep this concise. today, i am officially stepping down as the mayor of district V, and appointing my daughter to serve the rest of my term." he turns towards you, hand stretching out in your direction, and you step out onto the landing.

your father steps aside to grant you some space on the podium. you take a deep breath in, before crouching down slightly to speak into the microphone.

"it is my honour to be appointed the role of mayor for a district as notable and celebrated as district V." you recite the script that your father's assistant had written for you, the syllables drilled into your brain throughout all the practices yesterday.

you remember the words that the assistant had said to you, 'this district's citizens don't care much for politics. they just want to know if they can continue living in their merry way as they did before.'

"i will see to it that this transition is as seamless as possible, and i will do my best to humbly serve each and every citizen to the best of my ability. thank you."

you back away from the podium and disappear off where it is visible on the landing. your father continues on delivering the rest of his spiel.

it's been less than a minute since you've officially accepted your new position, but you can already feel a tightening around your chest. you plop down on a chair all the way on the opposite end of the balcony, thinking it over again. is this what you want?

that's when you catch sicheng peering into the room from the hallway.

"what are you doing here? you should be resting," you jump up onto your feet.

"i didn't get to see you yesterday, so i thought i should at least congratulate you today."

you sigh, and plaster a grin onto your face, "thank you."

sicheng takes one step closer to you. "so, miss mayor, i suppose i'm no longer at your service?"

slowly, you can feel a genuine smile twinging at your lips, "you wish." you swiftly glance over at where your father is, back still facing you. you steal a quick peck from sicheng. he looks at you with his eyes wild.

"what?" you tease.

even though you're not sure the path given to you is what you want, you know that as long as sicheng is by your side, you'll manage to find joy in the little moments. the stolen kisses. and the fleeting glances.

and it's not for ever, anyway. just until this term ends.

"you are now under me," you whisper with a smirk.

humming, he raises his eyebrows with interest. "so, what's the first order of business?"

you roll your eyes. "focus on healing your shoulder up, and then we'll talk."

he leans in closer to your face, a cheeky spark in his eyes. "yes, ma'am."

© misted-dream 2024

thank you for reading between heaven and hell ! this fic is a part of a series which you can learn more about here ! hope you enjoyed :)

[sluttyten]

I've been so inactive and I hate it!! I think t he last fic I read was about jaehyun and yn and they'd f in random places hahahah - can u make a post of your current updates so that i can binge over the weekend? x

Oh man lol if the fic you're talking about is one of mine, then I think you're talking about I Know a Place, and that's been quite a while, but starting with that part one of that series:

Taeil

A Little Drunk On You - friends to lovers

workplace (mis)conduct - office/ceo au

Johnny

Snowed In - threesome w/ Hendery

A Cure for Nerves - ceo/boss au

I’m Glad We Met - strangers to friends to lovers

My Everything - cuckholding & voyeurism  w/ Jaehyun

Taeyong

Last Christmas - friends to lovers

What I Need - threesome w/ Doyoung

Eros & Psyche - anonymous sex (strangers to fuckbuddies to friends to lovers)

Yuta

Going for the Gold - uni au

golden - piss kink *beware*

Kun

Oh, Baby - established relationship

Dinner & Dessert - free use/rough sex, established relationship

kinda hot though - sweat kink & public sex

Doyoung

Hungry for You - best friend’s brother au

Round&Round -  established relationship

Supervision Required - threesome w/ Jeno

What I Need - threesome w/ Taeyong

a means to an end - enemies to lovers, uni au

Ten

Like Home - non-idol au, bisexual Ten & bi reader, strangers to lovers

good hurt - pain kink

Jaehyun

I Know a Place - Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - exhibition kink

while you were sleeping - somnophilia/sleep sex kink, friends to lovers

In Your Arms - threesome w/ Mark, bisexual Jaehyun & Mark

My Everything - cuckholding & voyeurism  w/ Johnny

WinWin

Everything Has Changed - best friends to lovers 

Babymoon - pregnancy kink

A Win-Win Situation - sugar daddy WinWin au

Jungwoo

Long Flight - strangers to lovers

ignite me - uni au

playing favorites - threesome w/ Haechan

Mark

Watch Me - voyeurism, strangers to friends to lovers

positions - breeding kink, established relationship

In Your Arms - threesome w/ Jaehyun, bisexual Jaehyun & Mark

Xiaojun

a taste of you (darling) -  bookstore au, slowburn(ish), cheesy romance

dark side of the moon - chef au, knife play

Sweet Treat - cumplay, threesome w/ Hendery

Hendery

Snowed In - threesome w/ Johnny

morally grey area - uni professor/student au

Sweet Treat - cumplay, threesome w/ Hendery

Renjun

All I Ever Wanted - best friends to lovers

annoyingly cute - coworkers to lovers

meet me on the rooftop - exhibitionist idol Renjun

Backstage - you're both idols, exhibition kink

Jeno

Just So You Know - friends to love triangle, threesome w/ Jaemin

Supervision Required - threesome w/ Doyoung

Teddy Bear - size kink

Haechan

New Territory (expedition: you) - friends to lovers, questioning sexuality

Movie Star - established relationship, sex tapes

playing favorites - threesome w/ Haechan

Jaemin

Just So You Know - friends to love triangle, threesome w/ Jaemin

quiet down - established relationship

the babygirlification of na jaemin - bottom jaemin, top fem!reader

YangYang

Guilty Pleasure Series - Guilty Pleasure || Love on the Low Low - yangyang w/ a noona kink

time out - enemies to lovers

Pillow Princess - established relationship, slightly sub!yangyang

Shotaro

kiss kiss (fall in love) Series - Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - uni au, friends to lovers

감이 오지? (Can You Feel It) - dom!shotaro

Multiple Members

J.Crew - orgy/gangbang with Johnny, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Jeno, and Jaemin

Love Daze - sex pollen orgy with Kun, Ten, and YangYang

Unholy Series - supernatural au w/ Yuta, Ten, WinWin, Mark, and others

Full Masterlist is right here

[kopikokun]

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

☀︎ :: [09:51pm | dong sicheng] ⁎⁺✧༚༄

You can’t contain the little snort that leaves you, but you try your best to shield your smile with the back of your glove-clad hand.

   “Do I look dumb?” asks Sicheng, a deep red beginning to coat his cheeks. “I look dumb, don’t I?”

   “No, no, of course not, Sicheng!” you coo, walking towards him to readjust his blond wig. “You look beautiful.”

   Sicheng pouts, his bottom lip jutting out adorably. “You’re lying to me.”

   “No, really I’m not! You’re the prettiest princess I’ve ever seen!” You smile, pinching his cheek fondly. “I’m actually a little scared some other Prince Charming might sweep you off of your feet tonight.”

   Sicheng wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him as a goofy smile graces his lips. “When I have you by my side? Hmm, no way.” His eyes scan you. “You look good. Really. I think you pull this Prince Charming get-up better than me, honestly.”

   You laugh, eyes crinkled. “Thanks for agreeing to do this with me, Sicheng. I know you weren’t really up to the idea at first.”

   “Hey, it’s fine." Sicheng smooths down his dress. “And you’re right, I think I look pretty good. I might make myself act up.”

   You snicker. “Alright, alright. Shouldn’t let your ego get too big now. Maybe Ten in Wonderland’s gonna look better than you.” Sicheng makes a sound of mock hurt, which is something akin to a scoff. You roll your eyes before outstretching a hand towards him. He takes it gingerly and you press a chaste kiss to his knuckles. “Your carriage awaits, gorgeous.”

   Sicheng gags.

[neokwxn]

wayv !!

key - [🦁] oneshot, [🐯] headcannon, [🐶] short series, [🦊] series, [🐱] smau series

kun

none yet !

ten

none yet !

winwin

none yet !

lucas

none yet !

xiaojun

none yet !

hendery

none yet !

yangyang

🐱treacherous [liu yangyang x gn!reader] - @suhnshinehaos

synopsis: a crush culture spin off! after a couple of instances of accidental matching clothing, yangyang finds himself in a dating rumor with possibly the most famous person on campus : yn, the bassist of an up and coming band. yangyang doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. unfortunately yn, who has also built up a reputation for being cold as winter, does

genre: smau, university au, student council + band au, fluff, angst, humor

warnings: food mentions, swearing, suggestive content / humor

[hyvcklvr]

Hi hi can you do boyfriend winwin fluff where he finally comes back from China after staying there for over a year and yn missed him a lot and he missed yn a lot too :<

Next To You (f)

Pairing: Dong Sicheng x reader Genre: fluff

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it 💚 Requests open, check out my Prompts Event~

It was D-Day. Your boyfriend was finally coming back from China, his hometown. You were happy for him, for he doesn't get to visit his family that often, but due to the pandemic issues, he ended up staying in China for over a year, and both of you were missing each other. Of course, there were the daily calls and texting, but the house felt empty without Sicheng, his bed felt empty without you by his side.

And finally, he got the opportunity to come back to his home, to you.

You could feel your nerves shake like an overexcited teenager, the minute you heard the door click open. Sicheng had a key with himself, it was obviously him.

He entered the living room, backpack slipping off his shoulders, as he gave you a coy smile. You ran to him, literally jumping into his arms, legs wrapping around him as you buried your face in his shoulder. Sicheng let out a surprised laugh as he maintained a steady hold on your waist.

“Missed you.” You mumbled, Sicheng's scent calming you down, his warm presence so soothing after a year, and he softly kissed your neck. “Me too baby. I Missed you so much.”

You helped Sicheng with his luggage, and he soon changes into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, before you pulled him to the couch with you. In a matter of minutes, both of you were lying in each other's arms, legs tangled with each other's, hanging off the couch, his arms around your waist as you two breathed in each other's presence.

Your skin smelled like vanilla, Sicheng thought, as he left soft kisses on your cheek. “Next time I go to China, I'm taking you with me.” He said, and you turn in his arms to face him. “Really?" You smiled at him as he nodded.

“I wanna show off the person I love to my family.” You smile at his comment, and shift closer to him, burying your face in his chest. “I'm not letting you go anywhere. You've been away since forever. No more letting go.”

Sicheng softly strokes your hair, kissing at the crown of your head. “Works with me, I just wanna be next to you.”

Masterlist

[swinterr]

fic rec vi ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez )  if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

nct 

jeno

no title by @tyongf-nct | s

- smut blurb.

body guards and boyfriend by @pastelsicheng | f

-  sometimes the only way you can really get some alone time with your boyfriend is by making his job hard.

lipstick smears by @kopikokun | f

-  jeno never thought trying to get his makeup artist’s attention would be this hard.

jaehyun

[10:30] by @moonttaeil | 

- a lockdown moment.

[2:40] by @nct-jungjaehyun | f a

- cute quality fluff time with bf!jae with a dash of angst.

[11:41] by @jeongvision | f 

- family time with apples.

just like magic by @starryhyuck | f s

-  jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

love to hate me by @moonctzeny | s a 

-  you and jaehyun meet as sm trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you decided to leave the company and pursue a solo career. when you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other.

moving on by @ddeonghwaa | f a

- reader has been chasing jae for some time but when she moved on jae suddenly enter the picture.

sun&moon by @ppangjae | f a

-  asking jeong jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. one can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

snack run with a snack by @kopikokun | f 

-  on your usual movie night with the members, they assign you sudden snack collecting duty. you’re a little peeved, but at least jaehyun offers to tag along. Unfortunately for you, things really aren’t going in your favour tonight.

lover boy by @neoct-zen | f s

- bunch fics of lover boy jae and reader.

jungwoo

one more time, please by @haequarius | f s

-  you don’t know what you and Jungwoo are, but you are certainly weak for him.

jealous by @whiplashsan | s 

-  jungwoo is all smiles and sunshine until he gets jealous, and he just so happens to get jealous over the smallest things when it comes to you.

doyoung

sugar, spice and everything not nice by @alreadyblondenow | s

-  doyoung getting your ring size wrong, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, slight fingering, wedding tragedies.

no title by @ncteaxhoe | s

- dom!doyoung, rough? i need holy water.

the little one by @ethaeriyeol | f 

-  a gift of life; female reader x husband!Doyoung; fluff, light angst, married au

lucas

exquisite taste by @weishenkonbini | s f

- smut but with a fluffy ending.

for you always by @labyrinthsofyou | f

-  in which you surprise yukhei when he forgets about your date.

6:19 by @cozykpopblurbs | f

- a cute fluff ft kun and winwin.

10:18 pm by @nctsoftarchives | f

- reader supports lucas at his superm debut stage. 

16:47 by @sichengssmile | f s 

- a fluffy smut. lucas a big boi.

missed you by @tokyobts | a f

-  after you and yukhei broke up, yukhei still has feelings for you. he reaches out to you at school and tries to get you back. at first you avoid him but later his actions manage to make your heart flutter. you’ve come to a sudden conclusion that you maybe still want him in your life.

johnny

34 + 35 by @domjaehyun | s 

- you and your husband johnny decide to take your marriage to the next step.

i couldn’t wait a little longer by @alreadyblondenow | s f a

-  you two were never together longer than two days, but the feelings, oh the feelings that you have for each other is clear as the day. it was a never-ending try of making the relationship official. johnny tried, you tried but it never happens.

what happens in korea, not stays in korea by @alreadyblondenow | f s 

-  a week vacation in korea for your sister’s wedding became even more exciting when a famous dj had a crush on you. johnny was sure that it’s love at first sight. not putting both of your careers on the line, you two had no regrets when the time comes and you finally leave.

laundry day by @immabiteyou | s

- a domestic fluffy smut.

make a wish by @sluttyten | s f a

-  you’re jungwoo’s sister, and he’s made it clear he wants you and Johnny to have nothing to do with each other. so you and johnny start fake dating to piss him off.

want it all by @sluttyten | f s 

-  you are entirely innocent to the point of being naive. johnny is not innocent, but he loves that you are because it means he can teach you everything you don’t know.

sungchan

wish i was her by @softsungchan | f a 

-  you wished you were her, laying in Sungchan’s arms and feeling his warm breath on your neck, giggling about sweet nothings whispered into the starry night. You wished for it to be you, the girl he liked.

2:21 am by @the32ndbeat | f 

- sungchan being whipped, thru a text message.

haechan

14:52 by @ukiyoexo | f

- a cute haechan and reader ft the reader’s baby sister moment.

prince’s order by @nsheetee | f

-  prince haechan nurses you after you faint, and orders you to stay with him until you feel better.

sweet treat by @markresonates | s

-  haechan takes you for ice cream but all you can think about is sex with him.  when you act like a brat, eventually you end up in the bathroom. with no panties. 

clingy by @love-mi | f 

-  I’m not clingy! I just love your company and constantly want to be around you and have your full attention at all times

mark

hyuck is always right by @luvrenjun00 | f 

- ceo!mark x reader ft baby donghyuck. a tooth-rotting fluff.

taeyong

snow storm by @whereisten | f s 

- a fluffy smut whilst a snow storm.

1:59 by @smoll-tangerine | f

- reader and taeyong ft my favorite game (where i always die first) among us!

bts

taehyung

is this allowed 1 2 by @seokiie  | f s

- how were you supposed to know bts would be filming at your coffee shop today? how were you supposed to know a certain curly-haired boy would take a liking  to you?

cabin pressure | f by @jiminrings | f 

-  pilot!y/n who accidentally became famous bc of a viral post about her, best friend!jimin!, taehyung having a shy lil crush on you aND ot7 being meanies for a tad bit :((

art major!tae and biochem major!yn | f by @jiminrings | f

-  tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

gank mid lane by @kimtaehyunq | f s 

- gank / verb: (in a video game) use underhand means to defeat or kill (a less experienced opponent)

birthday surprise by @ephemeralkookie |

-  like every year, you prepare a little surprise for your boyfriend’s birthday, one that you’ve been preparing for days. and after a very tiring day, taehyung only wants to spend the night in your loving arms.

jungkook

cookies & cream | s by @1kook | f s 

-  jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (and maybe having his dick sucked.)

unholy night | s by @ephemeralkookie | f s

-  after a christmas day passed with the Jeon’s family, Jungkook decides to transform the holy night into an unholy one.

‘a short’ abstinence | s a by @seokiie | s a

-  maybe blue-balling you boyfriend (who has an insanely high sexual drive) wasn’t the best.

in which she’s done with him by @minstrivia | a

-  jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone.

bad influence by @noteguk | s 

-  in which you know jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

jock!jk and shy art major!yn by @jiminrings | f

-  established relationship ft. jock!jk and shy art major!y/n, y/n gets an unexpected pep talk and jungkook doubts himself, and either so much tears or so much dUST according to kook

special affair by @1oserjk | f

-  sugar daddy au except it’s just jk spoiling u thru animal crossing

fairy of shampoo by @ironicarmy | f s

-  sundays are for relaxation, house cleaning, and happiness.

abstract ft bob ross by @mimithings97 | f

-  paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what jeongguk wants. and what jeongguk wants, jeongguk gets.

badboy!jungkook by @jungshookz | f 

- badboy!jungkook falls for good girl reader ft the boys and the reader’s apple. 

growing by @lesgetittkookie | f

- dad!jungkook teacher his daughter how to walk. super super cute family/domestic fluff.

quiet, baby by @bratkook | s 

- i don’t how to write a summary on smuts so imma just put this. reader and jungkook doing something in the subway.

still want that by @whatifyoulivelikethat | s

-  fucking min yoongi ex-girlfriend? a terrible idea. being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? an even worse idea. knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing? part 2 of savage love.

desiderium by @jeonggukingdom | f s 

-  “we’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”. a newlyweds!au smut.

chapstick by @softyoongiionly | f s

- based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. or jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 

lover boy by @jingukk | f 

-  jungkook likes you. a lot.

unexpected confession by @sunkissedjk | f

-  you gathered up the courage to confess your feelings, but it seems everyone in school knows about it before you could even find him.

string attached by @ephemeralkookie | s

-  jungkook is what we can call your sexfriend. No strings attached, just you and him having fun and releasing the huge pressure and stress of being idols. But after spending an entire day together, you realize that maybe he’s not just your sexfriend.

no title by @himbojk | f s 

- dilf jk.

astro

eunwoo

ceo!eunwoo by @m0onbean

no title by @yutopiada | f

- a cute idol!reader and eunwoo moment at a music show.

disney by @bangchan-sonyeondan | f

- a cute date with eunwoo at disney. reader likes vintage things hence using a disposable camera.

baby, it’s cold outside by @fresh-outta-jams | f 

- a cute cold christmas fluff with eunwoo ft. the boys. reader went to the boys’ place for a sweater and cocoa gift exchange.

got7

yugyeom

cruel brothers by @imsarabum | f

-  jackson and jaebum have always acted as if they were your big, overprotective brothers. so when they both walk in on you and yugyeom in a very intimate position, things get a little tense!

txt

soobin

a special night by @gyuluster | f

-  an intimate insight on the first night of choi soobin’s wedding, consisting of kitchen floors, witches and an eternity of love.

boughs & branches by @jeogiyall | f 

-  decorating the tree with boyfriend! choi soobin from txt! fluffity fluff fluff with a lot of cute fluff thrown in and a dash of christmastime fluff. 

sleepy binnie by @immabiteyou | s

-  “i’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now. “ a sleepy soobin smut.

cake by @immabiteyou | s

- reading waiting for mc soobin with the guys. a cute fluffy smut moment.

kpop oc/s

seri by @ggukkiedae

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

[kunxcii]

nct social media au favorites / recommendations pt 2

click here for pt 1! this has been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks so i decided to finally finish it up and post it so that all of u socially responsible people staying home will have something to binge. listed in the order i read them but also sorted by member in age order. asterisk (*) = favs. (ongoing!) = incomplete at the time i posted this. (neutral ending) = if u care that ending may not be happy or yn x member may not end up together, sorry if i spoiled it.

had to search pretty far and wide for these so i doubt there will be a pt 3 - also i’m currently on a cdrama/cvariety fix lol. as usual, be my friend! (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

✰ multiple paths / mystery member ✰

friendship (multi: jaehyun, johnny, lucas) by jxngolas

all i need (ongoing!) by peachysicheng

✰ taeil ✰ (none)

✰ johnny ✰

streak breaker by softtm (neutral ending)

i’m so in love by romanticwyh

✰ taeyong ✰

*muse by jenoptimist

cloud 9 by bunny-doyounq

angel by sugaaasweet

is he an angel or a devil? by asteriaguk

fool by yongtxt

✰ yuta ✰

doctor, doctor by jaeculturetechnology

yes chef by butterbeeryuta

laces and things by butterbeeryuta

coming home by cupofjae

pâro (ongoing!) by jenoptimist

let me love u (ongoing!) by bunny-doyounq

airdrop (ongoing!) by taehunnies

✰ kun ✰ 

talking to the moon by dearncityy

not alone (ongoing!) by cupofjae

✰ doyoung ✰

*don’t need your love by cupofjae

*sanctuary by bunny-doyounq

anti by softtm

dear no one by dearncityy

sunflower by jaeehyuns

forced by radianthyuck (can’t find last chapter anywhere)

*where u at? (on hold) by suhdone

✰ ten ✰

collaboration by onflowerpaths

✰ jaehyun ✰

*tongue tied by peachysicheng

the breakfast club by kkuljaehyun

fly away with me by cupofjae

welcome to my playground by cupofjae

deep water by nakyngs (was bitchendery)

*balance of us by solecize

young elites by markeu-lii

hericane by weishenv

breathless by peachyuns

the games you play by fluffyjenope

through the night by jaeehyuns (neutral ending)

pretty reckless by yukhheis (neutral ending)

roller skates by hhjwrld

the beauty within (ongoing!) by justwinwin

end to start (ongoing!) by bunny-doyounq

✰ winwin ✰

different skies by dearncityy

✰ jungwoo ✰

5:05 by jaeehyuns

la vie en rose by haechanhearts

✰ lucas ✰

playboy by nakyngs (was bitchendery)

unrequited love by textingwithnct

*do you think about me too? by byunnct

you & i by leejenopes (some links don’t work, scroll on blog)

slam (ongoing!) by wereseoyoung

keep yourself alive (ongoing!) by sushi-xuxii

the librarian (ongoing!) by princekunge

✰ mark ✰

game over by jenoptimist

connected by treerachas

mona lisa by weishenv

*unexspected by hyucksupremacist (neutral ending, i shed tears tho it was so good) (some links may not work so you’ll have to search on the blog or replace hyuckcryptid with hyucksupremacist)

*game over by kettlewrites

easy as pie by nctzen-mess

*yours by wereseoyoung

flickering by fluffyjenope

*vintage by yongtxt

how to get the boy (ongoing?/ neutral ending) by yojeongin

clueless (coming soon) by chicagoletters (suhdone remade)

✰ xiaojun ✰

*the muse by princekunge

*just before sunrise by nakyngs (was bitchendery)

2 fast  by markftmingi

play pretend (ongoing!) by dreamingxuxi

✰ hendery ✰

rags & riches by markftmingi

*love talk by jxngolas

✰ renjun ✰

replay 1:27pm by jxngolas

celebrity crush by ncttrinities

art tour ltd. by ncttrinities

coffee & water paints by kettlewrites

catfished! by heartjwi-main

love maze by aiurjins

wistful by treerachas

youtuber!renjun by poutyjwoo

*the one where renjun gets kissed by ncttrinities

*the rich truth: away we happened (ongoing!) by ncttrinities

history is a bench (ongoing!) by butterbeeryuta

✰ jeno ✰

more than friends by nakyngs (was bitchendery)

love club by nakyngs (was bitchendery)

badlands by poutyjwoo

our first and last dance by tinybinnie

reckless behavior by fentyyoons (unmarked tw ch 28-29)

habits by nanaluvie (neutral ending)

adore u by hhjwrld

119 (ongoing!) by ncttrinities

dear you, (ongoing!) by matterhalos

✰ haechan ✰

*heartbreaker by jxngolas

to him by nakyngs (was bitchendery)

my page by lysyuta

stoned by haechanhearts

remember me by seofthours

rewind by heartjwi-main

sunflower by softtm

sweet revenge by starsuhh

fingers crossed by treerachas (some links may not work so search on blog)

summer of ‘69 (ongoing!) by radianthyuck

place your bets (ongoing!) by hyukcieee

✰ jaemin ✰

puzzle by nationaldoyoungday

what family says, goes by hyukcieee

timeless by lysyuta

put me on by hyucksupremacist (some links may not work so you’ll have to search on the blog or replace hyuckcryptid with hyucksupremacist)

what i hate like about you by kettlewrites

*ferris wheel by yedarnit

what i like about you by neomrk

money talk by tinybinnie

a tail worth telling by rosehyck

playing the part by nctzen-mess

*my first and last by jxngolas (sequel to heartbreaker)

falling, hard by fentyyoons

*dead lover’s society by atrabiliousse

fashion friends by xiaocity

twelve days of christmas by lovieskihyun

✰ yangyang ✰

siren by dearncityy

the lab partner by princekunge

let me love you (ongoing!) by jxngolas

✰ chenle ✰

i’m so bad for you by neomrk

*turf war by hyucksupremacist

✰ jisung ✰

flower cafe by poutyjwoo

by my side by nctzen-mess

*my first and last by lysyuta

why not me, the dancer by heartjwi-main (some links link to wrong ch, search on blog)

hieraeth by heartjwi-main (sequel to why not me, the dancer) (some links link to wrong ch, search on blog)

along the lines of (ongoing!) by heartjwi

✰ non-nct ✰ (mostly from authors whose nct work i’ve read)

*bad guy ft. pentagon yanan by markftmingi

*crush culture ft. stray kids hyunjin by nakyngs (was bitchendery)

*somebody else ft. ateez yunho by nakyngs (was bitchendery)

*money talks ft. seventeen jun by dahyunminggyu

*big reputation ft. nine percent xukun by dahyunminggyu

plot twists ft. stray kids bang chan by desertskz

*do re mi ft. bts jungkook by taeyegu

l.c.t ft. bts jungkook by peachyuns

*bad at love ft. seventeen wonwoo by sankyeom

online ft. stray kids hyunjin by hhjwrld

find my iphone ft. bts yoongi by ediblesuga

*stay and cook ft. bts jungkook by firebettercallnct

*press start ft. bts jungkook by lovelyyyoongi

*keep it fruity ft. seventeen maknae line by cupidhaos

honeysuckles and dewdrops ft. stray kids hyunjin (ongoing!) by strawberryjmilk

[nanasarea]

🇨‌🇦‌🇧‌🇮‌🇳

❆Prompt: your friends asked you to stay with them in a cabin for a bit of a vacation and you obviously cant say no to them

❆Genre: fluff

❆Pairing: reader x best friend!nct (dream focus)

❆Word count: 2.6k (ok longest fic I see you)

❆a/n: this was so fun to write and now I'm crying I want this also I might make a summer edition once it gets hotter bc I have IDEAS now

ALSO NOT PROOFREAD

❆Tag list: @bumblebeenct​ @socketpunch​

❆TW: toy gun (?), German, swearing (?) idk not much haha

“Get in, loser, we’re going out of our minds!” Donghyuck yelled from the bus. 

You had agreed to spend the weekend with your friends at a cabin in the woods. 

They all got some time off and wanted to spend some time throwing snow balls at each other and building snowmen, but they couldn't do that without you. 

It was Friday, the day of departure. You had just gotten a text to come outside from Jeno a few minutes ago and there you were, staring at the big bus with 23 grown men, which would otherwise be terrifying, but since it was them, it seemed fun, and only a tiny bit terrifying. 

“Haven't you already?” You yelled back as you walked towards the bus and saw Johnny step out of the bus to help you with your bags and before you could say that you got it, they were already put away on the bus. 

“Thanks.” You smiled at him, your neck slightly hurting from the angle you had to put it in, in order to look at him.

“Don't mention it. Or do, if you must.” He said dramatically and gestured for you to get on the bus before him. You stepped into the bus and Johnny soon followed. 

Immediately, you were greeted by Doyoung, who was sitting at the front with Taeyong, who asked you about how you were and if you slept well.

You quickly greeted back and told them you were great and that you couldn't sleep that well, because you were excited. Before you could ask them the same, YangYang yelled for you to come over to the back as Hyuck pulled you after him. 

You tried to greet as many people as you could before getting to the back, where Yangyang sat with Renjun, Haechan and Hendery. Hyuck quickly sat down on the far left, right next to Renjun. 

Next to Renjun was a free seat, and next to that one Yangyang, with Hendery at the far right. Renjun and Yangyang both patted at the seat and smiled at you, waiting for you to sit between them.

“I’m guessing my plan of a quiet ride was doomed from the start.” You dramatically sighed as you sat down between the two. 

“That was never an option and you know it.” Hyuck laughed, causing all 5 of you to chuckle.

You spent a good 40 minutes talking to Yangyang and Hendery as Renjun and Hyuck debated about something next to you, before you made the first stop. 

“About 10 minutes and then if you're not back on the bus, we shall leave without you, except for you, Jisung, we love you and would never leave you.” Johnny said before the group chuckled as Jisung got embarrassed.

You swear you could hear Chenle’s “of course we would, we have terrible memory.” and Jisung sighing before Renjun dragged you off the bus. 

You got off the bus and were met with Jaemin, who looked like he was about to kill someone, and Jeno, who looked he was trying his best for Jaemin not to give in. 

“Good morning.” You said “Whats so good about it?” Jaemin sighed, leaning against the bus and throwing his head back. 

You looked over at Jeno and tried to contain your laugh, to which he only mouthed “No coffee yet”. You nodded, chuckling a bit before following Shotaro, Hendery and Kun, who went to go get coffee for everyone. 

You barely got your own cup into your hands before you were pulled away from the three and into the store.

“Yn, come with me, I need it.” Hyuck said. “Need what?” You asked, following close behind. 

He didn't comment, he just dragged you to the toy section and showed you the toy gun. 

“You need a toy gun?” You asked “Yes.” He sassed “Its so pretty.” He explained “And it has fake bullets!” He added, excitedly. 

“Very nice, Hyuck. Here’s a deal, I’ll buy you the extra bullets if you promise not to use the gun on me.” You said, knowing very well that you need to make a deal beforehand.

“Deal.” He smiled, shaking your hand. 

Once you finished at the check out, you saw Jaemin pinching Jisung’s cheeks while Chenle and Jeno had their heads in their hands, they weren't surprised, but still a tad disappointed. 

“How many coffees did I miss?” You asked, causing Jeno to chuckle before returning to his disappointment. 

You stood outside of the bus for a while, talking to Chenle about his dog, well, him talking and showing you photos of Daegal while you listened and admired.

“Can I be her godparent?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as Xiaojun’s head turned to you. “Godly parent?” He asked.

“God parent, but while we’re on the topic-” “DONT GET HIM STARTED, IM SITTING NEXT TO HIM AND I WANT TO SLEEP.” Kun cut you off.

“Haha, old man.” Lucas laughed before Kun looked at him and sighed. “I didn't sign up for this, I just wanted to sing.” He sighed. “You love us and you know it!” Yangyang teased. 

After a minute, you returned back to your seat and watched as Hyuck put the bullets into the gun already. 

You pulled out your phone and put in your headphones, before Renjun came up to you and took them away from you and put them in his pocket. 

“Hey!” you protested. “Wait a bit.” He said, laughing and sitting next to you.

“Now, is everyone awake?” Johnny asked, standing up once again. “Yes!” The whole bus yelled.

“What?” he asked, placing his hand behind his ear. “Ay, Ay, captain!” 

“I can't hear you!” 

“Ay, ay, captain!”

“Ohhhh, who wants the aux first?” 

A couple hands got raised, but Johnny sighed and said “If no one wants it, I guess ill be first.” and put on the first song, which was SHINee’s Lucifer, which made the whole bus jam out.

The songs kept going and your ears were in heaven, there were 23 professional singers singing some of your favourite songs, of course they were, but after a while, the atmosphere calmed down and you continued talking to Renjun.

You remember seeing most of WayV, Shotaro and Jungwoo playing a game, Taeyong play on his Nintendo while Doyoung watched and critiqued, Johnny and Taeil making Mark and Ten laugh every 3 seconds as Jaehyun and Yuta discussed something.

After some time, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle and Jisung changed seats so they were right in front of you, which resulted in you playing some games.

An hour later, you got to your destination. You watched as Jaehyun, Jeno, Lucas, Jaemin and Johnny bring the bags and the suitcases from the bus as  Kun, Taeyong and Doyoung went to go get the keys while you and the others stood before your cabins. 

Once the suitcases were out and distributed, you waited for the keys. Most of Wayv and Shotaro was standing on the porch and discussing something, half of 127 was cuddled up while the other half took photos, alongside Sungchan.

You and the dreamies and Yangyang however, were playing with the snow. Hyuck pulled out his fake gun and jokingly started pointing it at the others. He jokingly shot us, one by one and we all played along, expect for Chenle, because he couldn't bother to move.

First, it was Jaemin, then Yangyang, Jeno, you, Jisung and at the end, Renjun, who just so happen to be near a hill so you all watched in shock as he rolled down it, getting covered in snow as Jeno and Jaemin went to go get him. 

Taeyong walked over to you guys to give you the keys before he saw Renjun, who resembled a snowman and Jeno and Jaemin helping said snowman. 

“Renjun, you okay?” He asked as Chenle, Hyuck and Yangyang laughed their asses off. Renjun just showed a thumbs up as they made their way up the hill again.

You thanked Taeyong for the keys as he and Hyuck made their way to the 127′s cabin and Yangyang to WayV’s. 

You walked to the cabin and went in, leaving your bags at the door. Jeno started the fire in the fireplace as Jisung and Chenle browsed the cabin while you and Jaemin asked Renjun if he wants cuddles to warm him up.

“Normally, I would say no, but I'm really cold, so I shall allow it.” he said before you and Jaemin looked at each other and cuddled the melted snowman. 

After cuddling for a bit, Jeno suggested deciding roommates, so once Chenle and Jisung got back, they reported on the rooms and you used a random pair up generator, since none of you had any preference.

Jeno and Chenle got the ground floor room, which was closest to the kitchen. Jaemin and Jisung got the room one level up, which had the best bathroom and you and Renjun got the top floor room, which had the best view. 

“You guys hungry?” Chenle asked, to which everyone nodded. “I’ll call Doyoung and ask if they know what they're going to eat.” Jeno said, picking up his phone. 

“I’ll take the bags to our room.” Jaemin said, taking his and Jisung’s stuff and walking up the stairs. 

“I’ll do the same.” Renjun said as Chenle and Jeno looked at each other before Chenle sighed. “I guess I shall too.”

Now, you and Jisung were watching Jeno as he called Doyoung. Apparently, there was a take out place not so far away, which did deliveries so they decided on that. 

Once the others got back, you told them and you made your way to the biggest cabin, which was 127′s. The others also came to the cabin and half an hour of everyone on their phone, the food had arrived. 

Taeyong suggested they used his new projector to watch something, so you did. You all gathered on the big couch and floor as the movie started playing on the wall while you ate.

Two movies later, Kun suggested going outside to make snowmen, while Yangyang suggested a snow ball fight, so you did both.

You started building the snowmen with Taeil and Winwin, but once you felt a snow ball hit your back, you said fuck it and joined the fight. 

You got a few throws in before you all got really cold and went back inside for some hot chocolate. 

Xiaojun, Kun, Taeyong, Doyoung, Jaemin and Jeno went to the nearby store to buy what you needed for breakfast while the others stayed in the big cabin and played a few games before Renjun got mad at Jisung’s team beating him.

“Jisung, meet me on the rooftop.” Renjun commented, making everyone laugh. 

You ended up talking to Chenle about something, but you forgot the Korean word for it, and the English word for it, you could only remember the word in German, only because you remember Yangyang teaching it to you a while back.

“Yangyang!” You yelled, grabbing Chenle’s hand and walked over to Yangyang. “Yes?” He asked.

“How do you say schwert in Korean?” You asked. “You mean sword?” Yangyang asked, which made you mentally slap yourself for not remembering. 

“What about in Korean?” Chenle asked, causing silence from the both of you until you both yelled “Mark!” and so, you, Chenle and Yangyang walked over to him.

“Yes?” He asked. “How do you say sword in Korean?” Yangyang asked, to which Mark just stared at all of you.

“Johnny!” Mark yelled as so, you, Chenle, Yangyang and Mark now walked towards Johnny asked him the same question.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning around to face you all. “How do you say sword in Korean?” Mark asked.

Johnny just looked at you all before pulling out his phone and googling google translate. “검 (Geom).” he said, showing you the translation. 

“We’re idiots, aren't we?” You asked. “Yup.” “Totally.” “The dumbest.”

“Wait, how do you say it in Chinese...” Chenle wondered before yelling “Renjun!”

It was getting late, so you said your goodbyes to the others and went back to your cabins, where Jaemin insisted on making you all dinner, so while he made dinner, you sat down on the couch and turned the tv on and searched fort the new buzzed unsolved episode on the YouTube section. 

“You started it without me?” Renjun asked, sitting right next to you. “I was searching.” You defended as Chenle sat down on the floor and waited for you to hit play.

As Jeno helped Jaemin, the rest of you watched the episode, you and Renjun on the couch, his legs lightly tossed over your lap as he leaned against the arm of the couch while Chenle sat right below you on the floor and Jisung next to him. 

“Dumbass.” Renjun commented. “You would do the same.” You said, laughing. “I would not!” he yelled. “You would.” Chenle and Jisung said in unison, making Renjun huff and continue watching in silence as you pet his head, jokingly. 

By the end of the episode, Renjun had turned so that his head was in your lap and his legs were on the arm of the chair as you played his hair and Chenle and Jisung were lazily spread out on the floor.

“Kids, dinner’s ready!” Jeno yelled, causing the two on the floor to groan and slowly get up. “You heard your dad, go.” you teased the two as Renjun got up and held his hand up to help you up.

You got to the kitchen and sat down, eating the food that Jaemin and Jeno prepared in silence.

On the ground floor, Jeno and Chenle tossed and turned, not being able to find a good position until Jeno said fuck it and got up. 

“Jaemin is probably cuddling with Jisung so they have a spare bed, so....se ya!” he said, holding up a peace sign before walking out the door. 

Once he got there, he opened the door to see Jaemin with all of his limbs wrapped around Jisung and thanked god before walking to the other bed and fell asleep.

Back on the ground floor, Chenle tried to sleep again but couldn't, so he said to himself “If Yn and Renjun are sleeping right now, I swear to god.” before getting up and walking to your room. 

He opened the door, and there you were, lying on the floor as a Taylor Swift song played. “What ya doing?” he asked.

“We’re talking about alien li-” “Nerds.” Chenle cut Renjun off before entering the room and lying next to you. 

“So, what exactly were you saying?” Chenle asked, turning his head to face you.

“How aliens could be monitoring us right now.” You said, turning your head to face him.

“But why? You two are so boring, what's there to see?” He said, making Renjun get up and tell you to hold him back, which you did. 

“You're just mad at the truth!” Chenle yelled, propping himself up as he laughed. 

Renjun started laughing too, and so did you, which ended up with all of you back on the floor, laughing, before one of you changed the subject back onto alien life and next thing you know, Jeno was at your door to tell you that its time for breakfast.

Once you finished breakfast, you ended up taking your sketchbook out, and so did Renjun. You spent the whole morning and a bit of the afternoon drawing and doodling with Renjun as Chenle and Jeno played games while Jaemin and Jisung were on their phones.

You looked up from your paper and saw them all having fun and relaxed in your chair.

“There truly is no place like home.” 

[planetkiimchi]

knotting the loose ends | d.sc

featuring: guard!winwin x royalty!reader

word count: 949 words

taglist: @slytherinshua ,, @welcometomyoasis ,, @weird-bookworm

author's note: oh my days... can you believe this series is OVER ?? it's been 7 months and almost 10K words and a LOT of struggle because the plot was a lot of afterthought and a bit difficult to format... but i'm soso glad i finally finished it <3 i hope you all enjoyed every bit of it as much as i did

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Sicheng.

When the Crown fell limpless, Sicheng’s first instinct was to reach out and hold them, the familiar warmth and shape of their body fitting just right in his arms. He couldn’t be blamed for it, not really, because how could he have let them just fall to the ground?

Clearly they were exhausted from having controlled so many people at once. The moment they fainted, the soldiers regained their consciousness, struggling against the guards holding them captive.

You lay in his arms, still not waking up, and he lifted his gaze from you to the others present. The guards stared at him, questions in their eyes—about you and why he was holding you so comfortably, about your brother, but most importantly, about what they should do next.

He tried to recall your mannerisms when you were issuing commands. Not that he hadn’t had his fair share of experience, but he never quite felt like his presence was as commanding as yours.

“Take them to the dungeons,” he decided after a few moments of contemplation, because that would buy him time. Buy him time to make a decision, buy you time to wake up, buy both of you time to explain this mess. He wasn’t quite sure how everything was going to work out, but he was certain you’d be able to deal with it when you woke up. You always had a plan, after all.

Guan Heng loitered beside him, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he peered at your unconscious expression. “They look so peaceful at rest,” he commented, and Sicheng’s heart twisted. 

Yes, you did. It was a constant war for him, trying to get you to rest, and he couldn’t believe how bad it had gotten, that exhaustion could cause you to faint.

You blinked slowly, and he breathed out a soft sigh of relief. You staggered to your feet, taking in the empty courtroom, processing the feel of his fingers on your skin in bright daylight.

“What happened?”

“You fainted. I sent them to the dungeons, although I can’t say I think that those bars will hold your brother for long.”

You turned to face Guan Heng, who shrugged when you questioned him with your gaze. “To be fair, I thought it was pretty obvious what the two of you were when you came to my village. If your guards, who are beside you 24/7, haven’t noticed it, then they are a whole new level of oblivious.”

You sighed, pressing a hand to your head. Sicheng’s brow furrowed.

“Are you okay? Do you have a headache?”

You shook your head, holding one hand up.

“No. I’m alright. We just need to draft an announcement.”

—

Sicheng couldn’t help staring at you, dressed in white finery, flowers in your hair. His own hair had been styled meticulously for several hours, and his white cape fluttered in the wind behind him. Maybe if he was subtle enough, no one would notice that he was manipulating the air to cause the breeze that perfectly ran through his hair without messing it up.

Guan Heng walked you down the aisle, and when Sicheng met your gaze, his heart melted.

The crowd gathered to watch your wedding wasn’t small, and Sicheng hoped that they weren’t feeling squeezed. Your wedding was also being broadcasted on national television, of course, but some people had chosen to travel from all corners of the kingdom to watch this union.

When you announced that you were getting married, the responses had been mostly in favour of the decision. Your brother had just been executed a month ago, and those who were imprisoned for their participation in the anti-monarchy movement had been released.

Those in the villages who had heard of or participated in the anti-monarchy movement respected Guan Heng, so when he declared that he was in support of your reign, the public had been generally approving of it as well.

You were the first monarch in your kingdom’s history to marry a guard, but it wasn’t like Sicheng wasn’t royal. His and Sixue’s powers were only inherited through royal blood, and how powerful the two of them were displayed their capability and worthiness.

Sixue sat in the first row, watching the two of you and clapping heartily.

“Why did you choose me?” you wondered, murmuring it softly into Sicheng’s ear, something he had long since grown accustomed to. Once your relationship had grown public, you had become more daring, beginning to speak to him under your breath even when others were watching.

There was a sense of comfort in those shared conversations, private but not hidden, that Sicheng greatly enjoyed.

“Well, of course I would. How could I not fall in love with my childhood best friend, who saw me through my darkest times, who was vulnerable with me in the wake of their parents’ disappearance? You have seen so much of me and I of you. I do not think we could be separated now.”

“I think you are right,” you sighed against his collarbone, and he bent to press a kiss against your forehead.

“I chose you because I couldn’t not,” you confessed. “You were the only one who understood the pain my brother put me through, the only one who trusted me in every decision I made. The only one to care for me for my entire life; the only one whose flaws I could overlook, simply because there are too many good things in you that I love.”

You looked up at him, and Sicheng promised he would choose you over and over again, for the rest of his life. He would never, ever, stop choosing you.

FIN.

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[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

Be right back but would you guys read a fic (probably a Winwin x Reader) that was essentially an Assassin/Spy AU (yes I’ve been watching too much Spy x Family) except YN is a contract killer and Winwin’s the new recruit she has to train but the catch is that their agency masquerades as an Escort/Contract Dating Agency

[toalltheficsivelovedbefore]

FOLLOWING - intro part two

model!jaehyun x youtuber!reader • social media au

-> the friends <-

YN’s - Mark (little brother), Jungwoo, Haechan, Taeil

Jaehyun’s - Johnny, Taeyong, Yuta, Winwin

—Doyoung is a mutual friend

|| Jaehyun hates youtubers, and you, a youtuber, have no idea why. ||

AU MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

intro part one || chapter one

[softsan]

Hey, this is a bit random bit would you be able to make a list of how all the y/n's in the NCT mafia au are related to each other? (Obviously avoiding any spoilers). Cause I honestly live rereading your series and I keep mixing up who is roommates with who and who is sisters with who ahahah (of course you don't have to do this, it's just a random thought I'd had)

Hello! 

Y/N’s names: x  This is a quick summary:

Taeyong’s Y/N: roommates with Yuta’s YN, foster sisters with Haechan’s Y/N Taeil’s Y/N: friends with Jaehyun’s Y/N, involved with Jungwoo’s Y/N’s case Johnny’s Y/N: friends with Jungwoo’s Y/N’s, roommates with Ten’s Y/N Yuta’s Y/N: roommates with Taeyong’s Y/N Kun’s Y/N: colleagues with Mark’s Y/N, roommates with Jaemin’s Y/N Doyoung’s Y/N: childhood friends with Mark’s Y/N, Yangyang’s Y/N professor  Ten’s Y/N: friends with Jungwoo’s Y/N’s, roommates with Johhny’s Y/N Jaehyun’s Y/N: friends with Taeil’s Y/N, knows Renjun’s Y/N Winwin’s Y/N: sister’s with Lucas’ Y/N, saves’ Haechan’s Y/N Jungwoo’s Y/N: friends with Ten’s & Johnny’s Y/N’s, Taeil’s Y/N was involved in the Criminal case Lucas’ Y/N: sister’s with Winwin’s Y/N, hired for jobs by Jeno’s Y/N, looking for Hendery’s Y/N Mark’s Y/N: childhood friends with Doyoung’s Y/N, colleagues with Kun’s Y/N Renjun’s Y/N:  knows Jaehyun’s Y/N Jeno’s Y/N: adopted sister with Xiaojun’s Y/N, hired Lucas’ Y/N for jobs Haechan’s Y/N: foster sisters with Taeyong’s Y/N, saved by Winwin’s Y/N Jaemin’s Y/N: roommates with Kun’s Y/N Xiaojun’s Y/N: foster sisters with Taeyong’s Y/N, had a run-in with Kun’s & Doyoung’s Y/N Hendery’s Y/N: looked for by Lucas’ Y/N Yangyang’s Y/N: student of Doyoung’s Y/N

[kopikokun]

Not My Taste༄ l.dh

↳ Your youth was, to make a long story short, bedazzling. But that sparkle faded long ago, and all that it left is hundreds, thousands, of people asking: What’s next? Thing is, you don’t know either. Washed-up, overshadowed, and still unacclimated to your newfound repetitive life of solitude, your odyssey lacks direction. That is, until a friend of yours materialises bearing a solution: reality TV. Paired with a sunny co-star and a multi-talented cast, maybe this’ll be when the pivotal revelation arc you've been craving starts to take shape.

pairing: lee donghyuck x celebrity!reader (fem)

featuring: ten, jaehyun, johnny, winwin, mark, yangyang, taeyong, wendy (rv)

genre: fluff, angst, fake dating!au, celebrity!au, reality show!au, baking competition!au, enemies to lovers, co-workers to lovers, suggestive

warning(s): intense argument, negative media attention, public pressure, feelings of inadequacy, living in someone else's shadow, self-deprecation (yn's just going through it lmao), expletives

word count: 4480 words

author's note: this is far from perfect but i had loads of fun with it and it was a great change of pace. despite its imperfections/shortcomings, i hope you get something out of it! feedback/constructive criticism (either positive or "negative", so long as it's constructive) is always appreciated ♡ let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for future installations!

☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: 1692 (cottonwood firing squad) ✧ cigarette daydreams (cage the elephant) ✧ freakin' out on the interstate (briston maroney) ✧ fluorescent adolescent (arctic monkeys) ✧ hazey (glass animals) ✧ holiest (glass animals, tei shi)

EPISODE LIST # 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

← BACK TO NAVI.

# EPISODE 1: Five Star Shit Show

Growing up, when your father returned late from table reads, your mother would cocoon you in your feather duvet, kiss both temples, and whisper the same tale to you, word-for-word each time. Souls draw lots to determine their life's odyssey, she'd murmur. They huddle around an iridescent goblet—its mouth a gaping black hole—and draw strips woven from rainbow; seven colours on every tape, yet none the same shade. Her eyelids drooped as she spoke, lashes brushing her cheekbones, tinted golden from your bedside lamp. She always mumbled gratitude for her lot—for her husband's success, for her healthy daughter, for the roles you already had flooding in—as she fell asleep before you, soothed by her own stories.

Though you listened, you never believed, because while the notion is fantastical, it's depressing too. If everything was predestined before you could even seize your first breath, effort would be futile. Your achievements wouldn't be earned, they'd be assigned. So, perhaps out of spite, you believe everything—every single damn thing—that's happened in your life is a consequence of your actions, not because fate strummed her strings or some ridiculous goblet spewed prophetic rainbows.

But now, standing in this lurid kitchen setting with a camera crew and nineteen strangers, your mother’s philosophy sounds tempting, because there's no way in hell your choices landed you here. A reality show.

“Hey,” someone whispers, elbow jabbing your side. It’s Ten, the assistant floor manager, your friend, and the reason you're here to begin with. “How is he? You two get along well?"

The ‘he’ is Lee Donghyuck, another ingredient in the reasons for your presence. He's in hair and makeup, eyes lidded as the stylist pats his face with powder. "He's fine. Nice smile, contagious laugh." You pause. "And he's cute."

"'Course you'd say that." Ten rolls his eyes.

"Can't help that I have eyes. And I'm sure everyone here's thinking the same thing."

"So, are you glad you agreed to join this season's cast?" Ten's lips quiver with a smile.

"I only came because you threatened me."

Reality TV is for spectating, not participating. It’s something consumed when there’s nothing else to watch and you just want the day to end. When you watch Masterchef—or Masterchef Junior when you’re disinclined to Chef Ramsay’s degradation—you never think Wow, I wanna be in this. But here you are—not in Masterchef but in World’s Worst Bakers, where the worst of the worst unite for the most disastrous bake-off imaginable.

"I did not threaten you," he pouts.

"You said you'd vomit in my shoes the next time you get drunk, and you do that like every other day. Pretty sure you were drunk when you threatened me too."

"I was stress drinking! You're just jealous I didn't invite you." Bingo. He's absolutely right. "But, seriously, thanks for being down for this. I thought I was totally doomed when Donghyuck's partner said he couldn't make it."

Your cheeks warm. "It's whatever, Ten. It's not like I've got anything going on for me right now." And you're not exaggerating. Since moving out, the vapidity of your day-to-day constitutes daily deja vu. If not for your phone, you doubt you’d even know today’s date. You look back to Donghyuck. According to Ten, he's just one of the contestants who manually applied. “He really isn't one of the celebrities the casting director snagged for the show?” Ratings had tanked last year, a far cry from the first season's monumental success. The crew hoped the inclusion of a few illustrious names would restore the show's declining popularity.

"Nope, just some kid," he says, though Donghyuck's only a few years younger than him. "But he's a natural, isn't he?"

You nod. Just moments after Donghyuck capered in,  people swarmed him like ants to sugar. His presence overshadows even the actual celebrities on set.

There’s a single beep—sharp and blaring—before Ten turns to scurry away. “Showtime,” he grins, tossing you a cheeky wink.

Shit, you’re really about to do this. Everyone at home's going to see what an atrocious baker you are. There's three ways this could unfold:

People will coo at your ineptitude, deem you quirky and hilarious. You'll be loved, not in the way your father is—a respectable figure in the field—but as the cooky, skittish friend whose failures are inexplicably funny.

People will boo at your ineptitude; deem you incompetent and spoiled. She can't bake because she was coddled growing up, they'll say. All she knows how to do is drink and sleep around.

Nothing happens. The show's a flop, and so are you. The media writes a few lazy articles about you at parties from weeks ago, or an ex starts shit. They’ll call you a wild card again. You'll be nothing but washed-up, a has-been, only recognisable as a vignette of your father's glory.

The final option is the best. Zero media coverage means people'll forget you. They'll stop badgering you about your next upcoming project when there is none and their expectant stares will shift elsewhere. You'll be a nobody, just like everyone else.

You don't want your parents uncovering what you've been up to since moving out either; that a reality TV baking competition is the most productive you've been since then. Your mother had only relented to your request of moving out after insistent persuasion. Your father hadn't been very keen either, but eventually he'd laughed and said, She'll be fine. The next time we see her, she'll be an A-list actress, in all the latest movies, plastered on all the billboards we drive past. We'd probably get sick of seeing her face everywhere. You'd laughed too, but guilt thrashed violently within you, tearing at your conscience. How would your parents react if you told them you wanted nothing to do with the limelight anymore? That you didn't even know what you wanted to do anymore?

You shudder the fret away. Worrying before a competition never did anyone any good.  Ten weeks will zip past, and once again, life will adopt its monotonous course, as it should.

“Hey!” Donghyuck’s voice punctures your internal monologue. It’s ecstatic, like he’s known you forever, when you've only spoken once or twice before. “Ready, partner?”

No. “Not really.”

“That’s fine,” Donghyuck grins. “More fun when you’re unprepared.”

What does that even mean? “Uh... sure.”

“It’ll be fun! Don’t sweat it.” One of the crew members waves wildly, gesturing you to your station. Don’t sweat it? Just wait till I lift my arms.

Donghyuck’s affable, his elation virulent. Sure, you aren't friends, but maybe you could be. He looks like he'd be a great drinking buddy too.

Your life is your own, and you—not some shiny goblet—have decided that you're going to have fun.

Spoiler for episode one of World’s Worst Bakers: it was not fun.

It commenced flawlessly, at first. The sprightly young host, Liu Yangyang, had revealed the judges, each with their own introductory quip. As they sauntered in, you had tried to ascertain their respective cooking-show-judge archetype: the nice one, the funny-in-a-dad-kind-of-way one, and finally, the you-fucking-donut one. You’d hoped that since the competition’s meant to display the worst baking monstrosities comprehensible, the latter was exempted from the panel range.

Your efforts proved fruitless however, the saying ‘you can’t judge a book by its cover’ prevailing in the end. The panel consists of retired bakery owner Johann Wiles, prodigy baker Lee Taeyong, and home-baker extraordinaire Son ‘Wendy’ Seungwan. None of them fit into any one cliche, actually, they all possessed each quality, just in different measurements. Wow, who would've guessed people are multifaceted with many layers to their personality?, you chide yourself.  Have you learnt nothing from Shrek? Now, in the final fifteen minutes, you wished you had mentally prepared yourself instead of judging people by physical appearance. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be encrusted in wet flour, sweating your ass off because your buttercream frosting won't retain its shape.

You and Donghyuck stand shoulder-to-shoulder before not a whimsical goblet, but an array of cupcakes; his arms akimbo and yours crossed.

“Why do they look like that? Why are they all melty?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, mussing his hair, wedging clumps of flour between the strands. “They look like...”

“Wet shit,” you mumble. He nods.

You tilt your head back, shoulders creaking with an ache. The other contestants seem to be doing fine. Why wouldn’t they? This first round is supposedly the easiest, meant to wean you in to the next nine weeks of baking. The judges had even distributed a recipe to minimise catastrophe. So, what on Earth had gone wrong?

“You two doing okay?”

Chef Lee’s voice is mellifluous, like spun sugar. He exudes an air of genuine concern, eyebrows bunched. One of the cameras pivots to you and it takes all of your remaining energy to not flinch.

You shake your head, while Donghyuck says, “Our frosting’s liquified, Chef.”

“Just Taeyong. Chef makes me sound pretentious,” he says, waving dismissively. Man, so you don’t even get to bark ‘Yes, Chef!’? What’s the point?

Taeyong bends forward, laser-focused on your pathetic cupcake. It was palpable from the get-go, but up close, you really marvel in how attractive he is—and how young too. How old did Yangyang say again? 25? 26? In fact, there’s an appalling concentration of attractive people here, from the unfairly gorgeous judge panel to the celebrity contestants, even Ten, a crew member, is pretty good-looking. You glance at Donghyuck, eyes roving his figure. And him. He's just... some guy. Why is he so stupidly attractive? Maybe it wouldn't hurt to try to be a little more than drinking partners.

“How long has the cream cheese been out of the fridge?” Taeyong’s flinty gaze latches onto you. God, you look abysmal right now, and you're being recorded in the same frame as two beautiful men, one of which is staring at you in a room full of equally attractive people. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, hoping to efface any smears.

“Not long. Maybe ten minutes?”

Taeyong raises a brow. “You’re sure?"

“Uh... yes?” In your peripheral, Donghyuck frowns. Did you say something wrong?

Taeyong cocks his head to one side, lips pursed, before reaching down to cup the bottom of one cupcake. “Ah,” he smiles, “did you let the cupcakes cool before frosting?”

Your heart plummets, fizzes in your stomach acid. Cooling was mentioned in the recipe, but you’d skipped it in favour of time-efficiency. You’d even told Donghyuck you’d let it cool when prompted, thinking it’d been a beneficial decision. Evidently not. “...No?”

“You need to let them cool completely on the rack before frosting, or else, well, this happens. Scrape off the buttercream. It should take about ten minutes to cool.” He sets the cupcake down, beginning to walk away. “Good luck.”

You bury your face in your hands. Ten minutes? That only leaves three, at most four, left for piping and plating. You’ll need more than luck. Then, just give up. There's nothing to lose, right? That's a dumb question, of course there is. What will people think if you can't even make it past the first round?

The cameraman lingers, and you’ve half the mind to swat it away to save face when you inevitably yank your hair out. You know you're still being filmed for the drama, reality TV thrives off of it after all. The editors will add in a tense instrumental, rich with dissonance and key changes, cut to a confessional they'll have you record tomorrow, and really milk the suspense. Maybe you should yank your hair out; higher ratings, possibly higher coin. You shake with a silent laugh. It probably looks like you're crying. That would definitely get a few clicks. What a drama queen, would be the consensus.

“Hey, hey, hey,” whispers Donghyuck, lips centimetres from your ear. He's muffling the lapel mic with one hand, the other on your shoulder. He must be frazzled, but like the excellent partner he is, he remains poised. It assures you. Maybe he’s leaning in to murmur encouragement. “Don’t you dare panic. I’m not going to lose this competition because you fucked up."

The fuck? You swivel to gawk at him, faintly aware that his lips are now centimetres from yours. “Excuse me?" you whisper, smothering your own body mic. “You’re being a dick.”

“I will be when there’s money on the line,” he hisses. Where’d that sweet guy go? The one everyone was fawning over forty-five minutes ago? The kind stranger with the lucent smile and boyish laugh? “Now, get scraping," he spits.

Then, as quickly as it erupted, his anger dissipates, eyes creasing and smile shy. He removes his palm from your shoulder and cradles your chin, thumb—which is more calloused than expected—swiping the corner of your lip, so delicate your skin prickles. You stare as he dips the digit into his mouth.

“You had some frosting on your face,” he says, uncovering his lapel mic so his pretext doesn’t go unheard. He turns to start scraping.

Your index and middle finger hover over where Donghyuck’s thumb had been. Unfortunately, there’s no time to dwell, so you stiffly resume your duties.

But you’re distracted. Your eyes keep wandering to Donghyuck, and though you pry them away, they always crawl back, more tenacious than before.

When the timer buzzes and you’re standing before the judges, your eyes are on him. When you’re presenting your cupcakes and answering questions about them, your eyes are on him. When you’re thrust to the bottom two and narrowly evade elimination, your eyes are on him. When you’ve wrapped up for the day and are reminded about recording confessionals tomorrow, your eyes are on him.

It’s only when the losing pair are sent home—a father son duo—that Donghyuck hauls you away and finally, his eyes are on you.

“What the hell is your deal?” he whispers. “You’ve been staring at me for the past half-an-hour.”

You blanch. He’s done it again; that abrupt personality flip. Just moments before he’d laughed and joked and flushed pink at praise, but now he’s snarling in your face like you’ve cussed him out. And honestly, you’re considering it.

You clench your jaw, relishing in the screech of teeth abrading teeth. Heat pulses in every crevice of your body, gripping the gummy flesh of your innards, seeping into your blood, fuelling your every thought.

Ten had been wrong. Donghyuck must have some sort of background in acting, because wow, can the bitch put on a performance. Unbeknownst to everyone here, his entire persona’s been a facade. He isn’t a kind, endearing stranger, no, he’s a conniving, sly, little prick. No, you’re not mad. You’re pleased, pleased that he’s shown his full colours, pleased that you’ve dodged a bullet. You’d been intending to exchange numbers. Imagine that! It would’ve been devastating if he’d only shed his charming glaze after you’d grown attached. You would’ve gone out for drinks, confided in him after a few, and he would’ve laid every dirty secret bare for the public to scarf down, telling the media: I never really liked her anyway.

Cuss him out. No, what would he think of you? But then again, you’re strangers. It’s not like he’s afforded you an ounce of chivalry, why should you? He doesn’t deserve even a morsel of pity or remorse from you.

“My deal? What the fuck is yours? Fine, I screwed up back there, but you didn’t have to be such a bitch about it. What happened to having fun?”

Donghyuck looks at you like you’re a moron. “Of course you think having fun means fucking about. I didn’t mean for you to disregard the steps to the recipe. It explicitly said ‘let rest until completely cooled’. You said you’d let it cool. You lied! You could’ve ruined our chances! I was being nice when I said that, but look where that got me.”

“You? Being nice? You’re the furthest thing from it.” You groan. “You’re just making a fuss out of nothing. We didn’t get eliminated and we’ll be moving on to the next round. What’s the big deal?”

“The ‘big deal’ is, that isn’t the only thing you fucked up. How about the butter that you forgot to put in?”

“I did not forget that. You did. The butter was not my fault. I told you to add it in during mixing after I left it out to thaw. Don’t try to pin your faults on me.”

Donghyuck flushes, and you swell with righteous pride. “Alright, fine, but that’s only because I was too busy picking up after your messes.”

“Picking up after my messes?” you scoff. “I’m not a child, Donghyuck. I was making no messes.”

“Holy shit,” he laughs, bitter and indignant. “You didn’t even realise that I saved your—our asses, did you? ‘No messes’? What about the frosting?”

God, does he ever quit? “What about the frosting? You upset I didn’t milk a cow and make the butter myself?”

“You forgot to put it in the fridge.“

You weave your arms across your chest. Yes, you’d prematurely made the buttercream, but it was an accident. And besides a minute or two squandered, it hadn’t reaped any severe  repercussions. “No, I didn’t. I took it out from the fridge. It wouldn’t have been there if I had forgotten, now would it? I definitely remember putting it in.”

“Of course, that’s how you remember it.” He rolls his eyes. “I put it in the fridge, not you. If I hadn’t been aware of my surroundings or neglected common sense, our buttercream would’ve been unsalvageable. Your mistake would’ve single handedly gotten us eliminated. So, yeah, no big deal.”

“Okay, fine, I get it, Donghyuck. I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear? You’re being so dramatic. It’s not like getting upset’s gonna change what’s already happened. Why’re you still so pissed?”

“I’m pissed, because when I win, I’m going to have to split the money with someone who did nothing but drag me down the whole way. A freeloader, riding on the coattails of my effort. I’d tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but it seems like everyone was right about you.”

You bristle. Freeloader. How many times have you heard that before? And what had he heard about you? Everyone? Who else in this room, on this set, in the cast, has something against you? A bottomless chasm of pent-up resentment behind smiling masks? Do they whisper about you behind your back? Does Taeyong? Wendy? Ten?

“The fuck does that mean? Don’t act like you know me when we only met two hours ago! Nothing? I did nothing? Are you so far up your own ass that you didn’t see how I was helping you out the entire time? So what I made a mistake? Surprise, surprise, I’m a shitty baker, Donghyuck! You are too! That’s why we’re on the show!” Your fists are curled, nails piercing the flesh of your palms. “You’re so full of yourself for thinking you pulled all the weight. You prance around smiling and laughing, bluffing about who you really are, pretending like you’ve not got a bad bone in your body, when really, you’re full of shit.”

Hurt shadows his face, but the flames of his ire are quick to extinguish it. He’s not tall, but in this isolated moment, he towers over you. “If being full of shit is what wins me this competition, then so be it. You might have come here because you’ve got nothing else to do, and hey, if you win, there’s a bit of easy cash and publicity, but there is no ‘if’ for me.” His cadence is feral, convulsing, voice cracking as if he’s trying to emphasise every word. His breaths are manic. Each syllable strangles him, pressing tighter and tighter and tighter. He’s frantic, pupils dilated, almost... terrified. “I didn’t come here—didn’t take money out to audition, didn’t spend weeks in anxiety waiting for a response, didn’t take days off my job—just to lose. So, start taking this seriously, or don’t. Get. In. My. Way.”

He’s so close; it’s suffocating. The air between you is congested with all the words  uttered, so many that there’s no room left for oxygen. They taint your trachea black, shrivelling your lungs. Your exhales are stifling. The room seems to shrink. The ceiling begs to cave in. It’s claustrophobic. You want to claw at your throat, but instead, you tip forward, glaring, your voice low and vicious, “I hate you.”

Donghyuck smiles, crooked, sadistic. He stoops lower, so close you can taste his rage; tangy and sickly saccharine. “Then hate me,” he whispers. Your gaze flickers to his lips, the way he enunciates each word with escalating menace. His eyes skim your face, before he rights himself, tongue prodding his cheek. You shudder with an exhale. Asswipe. He beams, and it’s only now you notice that it’s stretched too far to be sincere. “See you tomorrow.”

Nothing happened during confessionals the next day. You had expected overt hostility, but Donghyuck was insouciant. He smiled, conversed effervescently, and met your gaze despite your blatant aversion, as debonair as before. You would’ve been piqued by his nonchalance, but yesterday’s outburst had wisened you. Lurking beneath that sunny pretence was, unmistakably, irritation; you only had to learn where to look, and yesterday’s ordeal had been a spectacular lesson in the matter.

Though he approached you with a skip in his step, and a lilt in his laugh, it tormented him more and more every time. The cracks in his charade were laughably transparent when he’d talk to you. From the too broad smile, the too high giggle, the twitch of the jaw, the dart of tongue over upper teeth, he hates being around you—despises it. Well, that makes two of us. Partner.

Now, four days since you last saw him, you smile just reminiscing about his distaste. Obviously, he’s not as unbothered by you as he tries to exhibit. Good. He can pretend as much as he’d like, but you know from experience that bottled-up aggravation is going to simmer to a boil, and just one teensy turn of the gas knob is going to make him go boom. And luckily for him—

No, this isn’t a matter of luck, this is the result of your doing, because you—not anyone or anything else—have decided you’re going to turn up the heat.

Your phone rings, buzzing on the dresser. It must be your mother, harassing you to contemplate moving back in again. Or maybe your parents found out about the show. It had just aired yesterday. Shit. You roll over in your bed, face mashed into the mattress as you blindly reach for your phone.

You clear your throat, and answer with your chirpiest voice, “Yes?”

“Why do you sound like that? Are you sick?”

“Oh, it’s you.”

“At least try to sound enthusiastic,” Ten mutters.

“Yay.”

He grumbles. “I called to ask if you’d seen the episode yet.”

“No.”

“Typical,” he groans. “Do you really not give a shit about it?”

“Should I? Why? Do I look bad?”

“When do you not?” he asks. Silence. He cackles at his own ingenuity. You can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “Anyway, check your texts. I sent you a link. Really, I had no idea you were into guys like that.”

Guys like what? But Ten’s already hung up. Curiosity nips at you, so for once, you immediately enter the Messages app after Ten’s told you to. Hopefully, whatever the hell he’s done now won’t afflict you.

He’s attached a single link; an article. An article with your face on it. Your heart lurches, palms beading perspiration at the sight of yourself. The choice of colour and font of the article is garish, something only a tacky gossip column could get away with. What are you doing in a gossip column? You’ve abstained from anything remotely scandalous for weeks since moving out, refusing to supply any ammunition your mother could use to justify you staying home. So what had soured?

‘BITTERSWEET ROMANCE?

'Just last Friday, the world of reality TV was shaken to its core when the first episode of season three of World’s Worst Bakers aired. The show pits the worst of the worst against one another in an ultimate bake-off to find out who will succeed as the best among them (is that really something to be proud of?). The show itself boasts an impressive cast from rising actor Jung Jaehyun, gorgeous part-time model Johnny Suh, award-winning traditional dancer Dong Sicheng, singer/heartthrob Mark, prodigy baker Lee Taeyong—’

Yeah, yeah, whatever. But why is your face on an article titled ‘Bittersweet Romance’? You scour the page, eyes bulging when you discover what’s been written about you.

‘...the former child star and daughter of esteemed actor seems busy on the show; busy with love that is. Introducing Lee Donghyuck, indiscriminate and humble, perhaps lacking in notoriety, but certainly not in looks. The two seem to have struck a passionate romance, seen in the clip below sharing a tender moment together as Donghyuck soothes his lover’s anxieties about the competition, even slipping in a swoon-worthy gesture. Allegedly, the two were so enamoured by each other, they were nearly eliminated! Ah, young love. Sources say they witnessed the young couple’s hurried departure for privacy the moment filming ended, and we don’t think we need to spell out what probably happened next. Though reports state the couple seem end-game, is that really a possibility considering our darling lover girl’s history? It’s public knowledge that she’s quite a wild card; who knows how she’ll break this poor boy’s heart, if it ever comes to that. Her ex-partners—’

You refuse to read further. Nausea clings to your stomach. A mixture of mortification and abhorrence batters your skull. Passionate romance? Tender moment? Enamoured? Love? And what are they implying with ‘departure for privacy’? That you and Donghyuck had a quickie while the entire crew was milling about? If only they’d heard the berating the two of you had dished out, then the article would probably be singing a drastically different tune. Temper Tantrum: Former child star lambasts her baking partner! They’d regale and call you bitch instead of censoring themselves with ‘wild card’. Wild card. Even in an article claiming you’d found potential true love, they’d wormed it in. Would they be calling you wild card even in seniority? You snort. Imagine that: an eighty-year-old you plastered across gossip columns. Maybe they’d find another washed-up star instead. They probably would. They always did.

Your phone chimes again, screen alight with a new text from Ten.

Looks like we’ve got ourselves a pair of stars.

You scoff, tossing your phone back on the dresser. Yeah, a pair of five star shit shows.

[harmonie-writes]

When Halloween Comes to Town

Taeyong x Reader (ft. some other members of 127)

genre: fluff

tw: none

Somewhat based off of Halloween Town. Time works differently in Halloween Town (in my version since I don’t remember it very well). I know WinWin is a part of NCT 127 now, but for the sake of everything he is.

Word count: ~1.8k

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Every year on the eve of Halloween the town would light the absurdly large jack-o-lantern that officially rang in the town’s festivities. Each year that the pumpkin was lit, it almost seemed as if the number of people in the city grew with the amount of costume wearers that roamed the streets enjoying the crisp evenings. If people noticed then they never mentioned anything, but a young boy, with bright shining eyes seemed to notice the various witches and warlocks, the almost too furry werewolves, or the skeletons that seemed just a little too real walking down the paved roads. 

And for such a young, bright mind it was only confirmed when he wandered just a little too far from his home while trick-or-treating. In all honesty, it was a misunderstanding, maybe he should be thankful that his little werewolf mask covered his face just enough or that what he assumed to be a goblin-child tugged his hand in the direction of the jack-o-lantern in the town square. What he does remember is one moment he is running toward the orange pumpkin hand-in-hand with a goblin, and the next moment he is running out of the pumpkin onto a very, very different road and not entirely sure how to get home. 

After the mild panic of being stranded, and alone in a whole other world the boy remembers being approached in an alley by a cat with the brightest green eyes, as if they were made out of emeralds. The cat brought some sense of comfort to the boy who had the sniffles, but the sound of frantic footsteps that finally slowed made him aware of another presence. Pushing his mask up to the top of his head, dark, watery eyes came into contact with purple boots that met a green skirt with purple accents, and to top it off the lady in front of him wore a smile with a crooked hat. 

“Something tells me that this is your first time here in Halloween Town.” The gentleness of tone pulled his focus back reality once more, and away from staring at the bent shape of the hat you wore. 

“D-dragged through the pumpkin on accident,” the boy mumbled, rubbing at his runny nose. 

The boy’s actions were halted when a hand holding the edge of a cloak wiped away the rest of his tears, and removed the mask from his head. “How about we get you something to eat, and I can show you around our small town?” There was no false intentions to be given, just one person who recognized that another being needed a hand. “My name is YN, and does this cute werewolf have a name?”

“My name is Taeyong.”

“Well Taeyong,” you took off your hat and set it atop his head, “hmm, it’s a little bit, but it’ll do. Now let’s go on an adventure.” The hat covered his eyes slightly, but that didn't stop him from hearing a chuckle at the statement. 

He remembers hearing the hum of content and being given a tour of the home of Halloween magic. He walked hand in hand with a witch he could compare to Glinda the Good Witch and the green eyed cat walked on his other side. 

Finally stopping in front of the century-old pumpkin you rapped on it with your knuckles. Taeyong remembers watching in fascination as you pulled a simple wand out of your boot before giving him a smile. With a small flick of your wrist the tip started to glow. He doesn’t remember if there were any fancy words that followed, but he does remember how the light grew brighter as you tapped it against the jack-o-lantern. Together you stepped through back into the human realm, and you figured it was best to make sure he made it home safely so you let him lead the way.

Reaching his house Taeyong looked back at you realizing that this might be his last time seeing you. “I’ll see you again, right?”

A smile graced your face, “You’ll always be able to find me when the town lights up the jack-o-lantern.” You gave him a small wave before you turned to walk down the mostly empty road. 

Taeyong returned the wave and then remembered that he still had your hat.

----------

Taeyong stood in front of the unlit jack-o-lantern yet again after being gone for so long. No one believed him when he was younger about going to a place actually called Halloween Town, but it didn’t explain where he got the hat from. His parents even tried reasoning that someone gave it to him from one of the market stalls near the town square.

His hand dipped into his bag feeling the rim of the old velvet hat that he brought back with him. Things have changed a lot since the last time he was here, and now he was visiting his hometown with his group members. 

“You’ve been staring at that gigantic pumpkin for awhile now. You good?” Jaehyun asked, placing a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder. 

“Huh, oh yeah. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been here. You could say this place is pretty magical,” Taeyong told him as he pulled his eyes away.

“Well everyone is heading to get some food before they start the ceremony tonight.” Taeyong followed Jaehyun down the road, and at least for the time his mind was pulled away from the past. 

----------

Colored light strips strung around street lamps were turned on adding a soft glow to the street, and people started leaving their homes dressed as spooky ghouls. Taeyong couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he observed the creative costumes his members wore, or the fact that Mark and Johnny were having a mock mexican standoff in the middle of the road as they were dressed like cowboys. 

“Aren’t you dressing up?” Doyoung asked, seeing that Taeyong hadn’t changed. 

“Oh, right,” Taeyong dug through his bag before pulling out the crooked, velvet hat he's held onto for so long. “How does it look?”

Doyoung raised a brow at the hat that fit solidly atop the silver haired boy, “Uh… it looks fine?”

A content smile touched Taeyong’s face as he looked back to the center of town. Maybe, just maybe he could have a small trip back down memory lane while he was here. Even though the lantern was now lit, there didn’t seem to be any change in the amount of people that roamed the streets. Did he get his hopes up? Was it actually all in his head? He didn’t get a lot of time to overthink it, because pretty soon he was being dragged to some of the vendor stalls to observe some of the foods and halloween get-ups for sale.

It was only when he was being dragged past a mask stall that he stopped midstep. Sitting on the table top was an oddly familiar cat with striking green eyes. What was even stranger was that the cat seemed to be watching Taeyong. 

His eyes followed the tilt of the cat’s head that seemed to point to the female standing next to it. The person standing at the stall shifted ever so slightly so that their boot was no longer covered by the long skirt. Purple. 

A nudge brought him out of his thoughts briefly to see who got his attention. “You’re staring, or you really want a mask since you don’t have much of a costume,” Haechan muttered while leaning into him.  

“Mask. I was looking at the masks,” Taeyong covered up, slipping his eyes to look at a random mask and not at someone’s back.

“Well, let’s go get one,” Haechan said, as he began pushing him in that direction.

Taeyong stood rigid before quickly picking up a random mask, not even paying any attention to what it was. Feeling a pair of eyes on him he brought up the mask to cover his face before glancing at the person standing to his left. He noticed the look of recognition pass across a face oh so familiar, but it was the words that were spoken that confirmed his suspicions. 

“So, does the cute werewolf have a name?”

Slowly, Taeyong pulled the mask away from his face. “How’d you know?”

All you did is point at his head while smiling. “Even if I didn’t see my hat, your eyes are very recognizable Taeyong.”

Taeyong’s face scrunched up slightly as he took in your features. You didn’t seem to age since the last time you saw him, and that was roughly fifteen years ago. As if sensing what he was going to ask, you answered him with a wave of your hand, “Things work a little bit differently in Halloween Town than they do here, magic and all.”

A series of coughs brought the both of you out of your small bubble. Turning around you were met with nine other boys who seemed puzzled by your interaction. “Hey Taeyong, who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is YN. They're an old childhood friend,” he told them, gesturing to you and then introducing his members. You gave them a small wave with your fingertips and a smile. 

Taeyong noticed the small flicker of mischief in your eyes as you turned to his group members, “Would you guys like to see something… magical?” 

They agreed wholeheartedly, because it’s Halloween, how magical could it possibly be? Well to put it lightly they were not expecting platform 9 ¾ nonsense when you took Taeyong’s hand and disappeared through the giant jack-o-lantern. 

“Did they just?”

“Yeah…”

“And we’re gonna?”

“I think so.” 

They all stood gobsmacked staring at the jack-o-lantern because it just ate their leader. That was until you and Taeyoung reappeared and grabbed ahold of their hands starting a chain reaction of pulling them through to your world. 

When everyone was finally settled and not panicking you pulled the wand out of your boot and gave it a small swish letting small sparks fly from the top, “Welcome to my home, Halloween Town!” Although you did cringe slightly afterward for sounding like some awkward tour guide. 

Letting the group pull farther ahead you turned to Taeyong, “I told you I would see you again when the pumpkin was lit.”

Taeyong couldn’t help, but pull the brim of your witch hat that he was wearing down over his eyes, “Yeah, yeah you’re right.”

Tugging his hand you pointed in the direction of his friends who managed to get a block away, “C’mon we have years to make up for!”

“I’m right behind you!” Taeyong chuckled, as you dragged him to the rowdy boys. 

----------

No this most certainly wasn’t a dream he conjured up when he was ten, because even after years things looked just the way he remembered it when he stumbled upon it on all hallows eve.

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31 𝕯𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓