#yangyang scenarios

[gimmenctar]

parte 2 dessa aqui avisos. 69. pras minhas weishennies @girlfromflor @stefanyhttp @lucuslavigne e todas nós weishennies desse site. redforwayv

yangyang entra no apartamento e tranca a porta como você pediu. ouve um barulho na cozinha e anda tentando manter o silêncio, na intenção de te dar um susto.

"porra, você é maluco?"

os seus batimentos aceleram ao sentir um par de braços te envolver por trás, mas a risada muito familiar de liu acalma um pouco o breve desespero que se formou no seu peito.

por mais que não soubesse muito como agir, a carência o ajuda - está grudado em você.

agora que ele realmente está aqui, um pouco de vergonha enrubesce o seu rosto. sem dar ouvidos, você permite que ele se aproxime e cole seus corpos. os dois se acostumam com a situação. por mais que seja um desejo antigo, estar assim de verdade é novo do melhor jeito.

"quero tanto te beijar. posso?"

é um sussurro tão íntimo, te arrepia dos pés à cabeça. agora de frente, seu leve aceno faz o trabalho, então yangyang sela seus lábios devagar. só os sente de primeira. algumas risadinhas escapam entre os selares, o frio na barriga ainda não deu sinal de ir embora.

quem pede permissão é você, e liu logo envolve suas línguas num beijo mais intenso. ele se sente mais confiante quando ouve seu murmuro de aprovação, está fazendo bem.

o calor se espalha rápido, visto que os dois sabem muito bem porque estão ali. a vergonha se transforma em desejo num passe de mágica. você tira a camisa do rapaz, reparando em cada desenho que se revela na sua frente. "vem cá."

tomando-o pela mão, caminha pelo corredor até entrar no quarto. senta-se na cama, mas não deixa que ele faça o mesmo. alinha seu rosto no quadril vestido, removendo a calça junto com a cueca.

o pau ereto quase bate na barriga, vazando mais em antecipação aos seus planos.

primeiro, deixa um simples beijinho na cabeça melada. leva uma das mãos até perto da boca de yangyang, onde ele cospe, sentindo uma onda de prazer percorrer o corpo. começa, por fim, a ordenhá-lo sem quebrar o contato visual.

ele mexe a pelve para frente de encontro aos seus movimentos, mas sente os joelhos enfraquecerem assim que o põe na boca de novo. "caralho, gostosa."

o incentivo te agrada, fazendo com que sua intimidade acumulasse mais do seu mel. ele nota sua dificuldade e, por mais que não quisesse parar, interrompe suas ações pra sentar-se ao seu lado. "deixa eu te ajudar também, preciso sentir seu gosto."

"tira minha roupa, yang." comanda sedutora, e ele não perde tempo em te atender.

assim que remove o blusão oversized, dá de cara com o conjunto que havia visto na foto - obviamente muito mais bonito pessoalmente. usa apenas uma mão para abrir o fecho do sutiã, descobrindo os seios que ele sonhou em chupar.

cabem na boca, ele pensa, sugando o mamilo endurecido com delicadeza enquanto o outro recebe atenção dos dedos. o belisco mais forte te faz suspirar de prazer, e yangyang faz uma nota mental: você gosta mais forte.

"deita pra mim."

você acata, se reposicionando. assiste-o remover a calcinha rendada que já estava arruinada, e assim oficializando: estão completamente nus, pela primeira vez, na frente um do outro.

ele te beija outra vez, mas não pára só nos lábios, também se aproveita do seu pescoço sem pena de marcar.

"vamos fazer assim," arqueia uma das sobrancelhas ao te convidar pro desafio. "quem gozar primeiro perde."

e então, ele se posiciona de bruços com o rosto de frente para sua boceta encharcada. o cheiro é muito melhor do que a imaginação dele, assim como o gosto, que experimenta com uma lambida de gatinho.

"yang..."

"concentra, ou eu vou ganhar, princesa."

respirando fundo, você retoma o que fazia antes, chupando-o com afinco. coloca tudo que consegue dentro da boca, usando as mãos para masturbar o que fica de fora e brincar com as bolas cheias.

é muito, muito difícil se concentrar. ele sabe exatamente onde chupar, a pressão, os movimentos - te deixa completamente fora de si. os lençóis sujam com tanto que transborda do seu centro pulsante.

os dois gemem ao mesmo tempo, fazendo com que a vibração contribua com o prazer. você sente que vai perder, está muito perto.

ele insere dois dedos, curvando no ponto certo, e envolve seu clitóris com os lábios, sugando com dedicação.

você pára as próprias ações, mas não é capaz de controlar as contrações erráticas e o gemido longo que sai dos seus lábios - perdeu, e perdeu feio.

yang quer muito contar vitória, mas você não deixa, quer tanto retribuir o favor que dá mais de si para fazê-lo gozar.

quando você dá uma atenção extra para a pontinha é que ele, finalmente, se desfaz na sua boca, e também acaba sujando seu pescoço e peitoral.

"ganhei, linda." ri ao deitar-se ao seu lado, a falta de ar ainda presente na voz.

"mas o jogo só começou."

[wincore]

indelicate | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x fem!reader

synopsis: missing the last train out of new shanghai was not on the to-do list. however, your project partner liu yangyang promises fun, dazzling lights, and the warmth of a human connection for this festive weekend. perhaps even in the era of diamond and steel, the human touch means something after all.

genre: oriental cyberpunk, f2l, fluff

warning(s): swearing & several innuendos. also out-of-date jokes sorry guys i wrote this in 2021

words: 11.9k

a/n: this is just a rework of an old fic i posted here with another character! if you find any inconsistencies, it's probably because of that LOL also this is not a wincore revival but i did miss everyone on here !!

i. city plaza

Some idiot, somewhere along in history, decided to renovate a city into something so dazzling that the population shoots up to a hundred and fifty percent of what was before, and the rest of the damage comes along with the people. Promises are made and broken to build this city of extravagance. You have the belief that the more people there are in one place, the more difficult it gets to live there. This dazzling hellscape means colliding into too many people on the streets, too many bright lights outside your dorm room when you’re trying to sleep and the god awful sound of deafening firecrackers at every new year celebration.

Another idiot somehow roped you into his ‘midnight adventure: traditional version’ once he heard you missed the last train ticket out of the city. Liu Yangyang has a terrible way with words—but he has a way.

You were, by some unfortunate gamble of the gods, partners for a project that accounted for sixty percent of the grade. While that affair is over, you still haven't rid yourself of the predicament that is Yangyang. Gorgeous, yes, but too overwhelming. You smack your head against the car window only for him to jump in his seat beside you, hand gently driving over your forehead to check for damage. The neon city lays around you, and festive light projections float across the sky in intricate shapes of the ox and written messages. This is going nowhere. You came to this city sacrificing everything and yet suddenly, everything’s hanging on a string again.

The city lights of New Shanghai are cruel. Everything in this place is cruel.

Which is exactly why you’re in Yangyang’s car, parked by the middle level city plaza on New Year’s Eve. It is, in fact, illegal to hover by the city plaza on New Year’s Eve but Yangyang seems to either not care or simply doesn’t know. You forget the law doesn’t exist for rich kids. Out of all man-made wonders, rules are the most interesting. 

“Shall we go?” he asks, voice bubbly as ever. Every morning, he chirps like the alarm birds outside your window. Yes, it has made you want to sleep forever at times.

“It’s just one night. And I’ll be with you, so you don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” you snap. 

“Not afraid of the dark either?”

You pull your jacket closer to you. Here, the cold streets of the techno-jungle make you shiver more often than not. If you dare go out without friends, a city so grand will inevitably drain the life out of you. Your body alone cannot withstand the dazzle. And—you can’t be afraid of the dark after you’ve complained about the lights.

You look at Yangyang and back to the cityscape outside—large conglomerative blocks of buildings, some hosting advertisements with the faces of inhumanly beautiful models and some with the ‘Happy New Year!’ text animation floating about in increasingly complex patterns. You see the revolving top of one of the grandest skyscrapers, a Dior hotel, not the tallest but certainly the most pleasing to look at. It gleams from red to orange like the pulsating heart of a giant metropolitan beast. There are more funky buildings to look at, some not even the shape of austere corporate skyscrapers.

“Do you wanna go there?” Yangyang asks all of a sudden. “I heard the lounge is closed off from eleven. I can call some friends and we can book a room though—”

“No. No way. I’m not going to spend new year’s eve in a Dior suite.”

He grins. “Thank god. It’s so boring there. Only models and businessmen and whatever freak shit they do.”

You sigh. Liu Yangyang is a whole story in itself. He’s rich and popular—a dream of many—but so few are as welcoming as he is. When you’re in that position, you’re bound to have a little metal seep into your heart. Some hidden part of you, however, tells you to loosen up when you’re with him; just let it go and have a good time. There’s no reason why you shouldn't. The economy is on a steep incline, the people are happy and no other city compares to this place. You could learn a thing or two from Yangyang.

He looks at you questioningly, eyes waiting and the curve of his lips still. You notice his platinum blond hair is more styled than usual, you can almost smell the gel on it, and for a moment, you wish you looked as good as he does. A dark leather jacket accentuates his shoulders, the plain T-shirt underneath not of the flashy type. He looks like he’s ready for club-hopping and you, anything but. If you knew earlier that you’d be by the Strip around midnight on New Year’s, you'd have dressed better. 

“If you stay any longer in my car, people are going to assume we’re…y’know,” he states, quirking his eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, though. Like, who thought fu—”

You were wrong. There is absolutely nothing to learn from Liu Yangyang. 

“I would get out of this car immediately and fall to my death before I let that happen,” you retort, crossing your arms.

“No, hey. What an inauspicious sentence. Besides, and I’m not bragging but you should know I’m really good at using my assets—”

“Don’t say a word.”

The heat of embarrassment flows into your cheeks at his implication. You look out the window, weighing out the pros and cons. The scenery is so bright that sometimes it hurts to look outside. It’s not midnight yet but the main streets are already getting crowded for the processions; the sound of laughter and conversation ring in the air. It makes you somewhat sad to not be home for this. But as they say, living in a big city can only be done if you sell your soul to it.

You’re directly above the level one city plaza, the people below looking unsettling in the way they’re so small and far away—they don’t even seem human at this distance. You wonder if you look like that to the people above this, to the level three elites who sit on top of the whole city..

You look back to your companion, who’s transfixed on the bakery across the road—either that, or just really, really zoned out. Knowing Yangyang, it could be either. When you tilt your head, waiting, you find that he has pretty features—a shaped nose and round, curious eyes, all in perfect alignment with plump, pink lips. His metallic ring earrings shine when the light hits them right. No wonder you get girls asking how close the two of you are often. Even in a world pushing manufactured love, boys like him make others daydream. You wonder why you’re the one he loves to drag in with him.

Yangyang flinches when he finds you staring at him. You clear your throat, looking away and hoping you can sweep this under the rug.

“Are you- are you by any chance mad at me?” he asks, a nervous smile awkwardly tugging at his lips.

“I- what? No. I’m not mad at you.”

“You look like my mother when I don’t clean my room. Or Ten's cats when I try to kiss them.”

A tiny laugh escapes you before you get back your poised demeanor. “I’m- I’m not mad at you.”

He smiles at you wordlessly and you feel a little conscious. You glance outside when the plaza music starts to get loud and look back at him, debating whether you should just give in.

“So… you’ll let me brighten your life now?” he asks in his regular baritone, grinning wider. “The semester’s over and it’s festival time! I bring good luck, I promise.”

Liu Yangyang is not a happy serendipity. He simply cannot be. However, he does make you laugh more often than you’d admit.

“Whatever. Go ahead. I just don’t want to be hungover on a Friday.”

“You don’t- you don’t have to drink to have a good time.” He laughs. “I would know. I’m sort of a lightweight. I don’t know why I told you that. I’m supposed to be cool.”

You giggle, taking a moment to think.

“Fine then. Show me your magical access key to our beloved Mobius Strip, the mightiest, grandest structure in all of New Shanghai.”

“Well, if you put it that way… I am pretty cool, huh?”

His smile is too harmless for you to roll your eyes. He’s too gentle, you realize all of sudden, to be as awful as all the uni frat boys you’ve had the misfortune of talking to. You watch him as he drives; his arm moves with ease and he tries to make conversation but you can only hum and respond in singular words. The closer you are to the Strip the more nervous you get. It’s like visiting all those dark places that your mother explicitly warned you not to visit as a teenager—but you’re an adult now. No one owns you. No one should be able to own you. The determination builds up slowly over neon lights and hazy street shops.

Nights here are the fun part. Everyone says that. Other than the fact that you can barely make out the colour of the sky under the vivid city lights, there’s something very enticing about the streets, the upper streets that wind around the city.

Yangyang drives the car to a level three street, the behemoth structure of the Strip now so close that all you can see beyond your window are its placid, white walls stretching out to infinity. You can see little gardens and shops, peeking out from between each strip and one of the shopkeepers wave at you the moment you pass. Yangyang says something along the lines of “thanks for the free noodles” to the woman, before gliding higher. 

“Grandma makes the best glass noodles here,” he says, excitedly. “I’ll take you sometime. If you like.”

You hum, noting the joy he expresses at the idea of something so simple. 

Level three streets are already thousand and a half feet above the ground. You try not to look down; heights aren’t something you’re very fond of even if you love the sky. You note construction work for street levels four and five, shivering at the idea. The winds of change are fucking cold.

Yangyang swerves the car off-road at one point and you clutch his arm by reflex.

“What the fuck? Don’t do that without warning me,” you say, breathing quicker. You do not do well with: sudden movement, jumpscares and boys with pretty smiles.

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You let go of his arm, more embarrassed at yourself than mad at him. Driving the car closer to the Strip, he brakes carefully by the parking lot. The walls are covered in red wallpaper, a few lanterns attached to drones, floating along the path inside. It looks like a rooftop parking lot, though the mysterious dim lighting makes you walk closer to Yangyang.

“I heard this is gonna be a really cool event—they’ve got the latest AI tech hosting and crap but let me tell you the best part.”

He pauses for dramatic effect. 

“The food!” He says, spreading his arms and grinning. “The food at private events is the best thing you’ll ever taste.”

You open your mouth but close it again in part horror, part confusion. “You’re… taking me to a private event?”

“Ah, don’t look like that. It’s really fun, promise.”

“I’m not even dressed for it,” you blurt, embarrassed.

Yangyang shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s for rich kids, you know? If I’m being honest, none of them know how to dress.”

His confident statement gets a giggle out of you and you relax a little. You walk with him, further into the square platform and away from the cars. The sky disappears behind the dark roof and for a moment, you feel like you’ve entered a different dimension. It’s like the architecture models that your professors had on display for the Shanghai History class in your freshman year. Old stuff, that is. Before this place even had the first skyscraper.

You turn to your side and narrow your eyes at Yangyang, suddenly wondering how he finagled his way into bringing you here. Your iron-clad will is not so much iron after all. It’s not even steel, you think, once you catch yourself staring at Yangyang a bit too long.

You step forward to find the entrance to the club; it’s a little lonely to look at in the beginning. Then it clicks that it’s probably the back door. The red pillars encase a black door between them, the overhang of the gateway just a little above Yangyang’s head. You can see the hip-and-gable style roof of the larger building behind, looking like a skyscraper instead of the usual historical buildings you’ve seen on the internet. In glowing red letters, it displays a blinking ‘Club 2’ near the top of the door.

The moment you step on the stairs, a bunch of advertisements pop up on the door, bright bubblegum colours hurting your eyes. Yangyang taps at the little x at the corner of the display till it disappears and finally the door is a regular door. The colour is jet black like any other screening platform. 

“I thought the rich were exempted from ads,” you say.

“They’re… more likely to buy things though.”

You make an ‘ah’ sound in contemplation when a whirring makes you jump into him. A little spherical drone flies its way out of an opening in the wall and stops right in front of the two of you. 

“Sicheng-ge!” Yangyang says, waving frantically at the camera.

The little drone circles around Yangyang’s head before stopping right in front of his face. It runs a scan before turning sharply and beeping at you. 

“My plus one!” Yangyang declares, pulling you by the waist. “Or whatever it’s called.”

Your ears feel warm but you don’t push him off. The camera focuses on your face, likely scanning to identify your age and occupation. When it’s done, a beep resounds and the door slides open to reveal a dimly lit pathway. The main entrance is much brighter, Yangyang promises, but for now it’s just the warm glow of the lanterns, Yangyang’s neon red striped jacket and the mechanical whirring of some sort of device in the darkness.

“What’s that sound?” you whisper and Yangyang stops. 

He pauses to think. “Oh, they’re Sicheng-ge’s drones. He’s got like a million of them. I'll introduce you—he’s hosting this club event, by the way.”

He smiles at you reassuringly. If Yangyang’s not bothered by it, you’ll follow his lead. Though, you do take more nimble steps and stay close to him like he’s your lighthouse. (In a way, he is, with all that neon shining on his jacket.)

You’re surprised to find a garden, but then it gets stranger when you see brighter lanterns in the middle area. You see figures and before you can react, Yangyang takes your hand and into the central platform.

ii. orchid club square

Yangyang was right. None of them know how to dress.

The two of you stand in the middle of a crowd, who are in fact dressed either for: a) an impromptu pool party or b) a Sunday morning lecture. You blend in somewhat well given the variety though Yangyang’s painted looks have attracted the attention of quite a few giggling, murmuring onlookers.

You clench your jaw in mild annoyance. 

“This is a tour,” Yangyang whispers to you. “I thought… you’d like to know what everything’s about.”

You feel grateful to him for once. Having some sort of knowledge about what you’re getting into makes you feel better about any situation. A set of mechanical clicking fills the air.

A woman—no, an AI bot is the first to greet you. She has pale white metallic skin and her dark strands of hair are in a traditional updo. Her lips are imperial red, shaped in a way that makes her seem as though she’s smiling but also not at the very same time. She holds an extravagant fan by her face at the perfect right angle, the patterns on it painted to imitate an ancient cherry blossom tree. 

“Good evening, everyone,” she says, her voice pitched up and enthusiastic. It’s a little funny to imagine metal so lively.

You smell oranges and lavender as soon as she flicks her fan once and precise. 

“Welcome to the New Shanghai nightlife!” The bot continues jovially. “The oldest surviving city on planet earth, the birthplace of the human race.”

“You are in virtual space,” she informs. “It might look like a courtyard stretching to infinity but it is only an illusion. However, the club is five hundred and sixty one metres wide and six hundred and twelve metres long. It is large enough to hold twenty-one blue whales in a line. That is, if they still existed of course.”

She giggles algorithmically.

“Where you stand right now,” she says, turning her head in a swift mechanical motion to you and you flinch. “This place is called the orchid club square. As you know, only VIP access lets you in.”

You glance at Yangyang worriedly and he shrugs. There’s no way she could know, right? That was oddly specific. But then she moves her head left to right to address the whole crowd in perfect grace. When her movement starts to get a little too eerie to watch any longer, you fix your eyes on the garden instead. You have no way of telling part real flowers from virtual ones and even so—all of them are beautiful. Maybe reality doesn’t make things any prettier.

However, when you look at Yangyang, the thought gets tossed out. You shake your head, in an attempt to get rid of the image of his face. It’s a little too late to be feeling this way. Either that, or the night is taking its toll on you already. The day was exhausting, considering it was the end of the semester.

The AI guide’s chatter fades into something quieter when you move the club square. It’s a rather empty space, fitting for a rave or just housing large crowds. The decorations are for the new year celebrations, banners of the ox in auspicious colours and a few drones projecting the rest. There’s a garden of evermore orchids lining the area in a perfect square and it’s so precise that it’s pleasing to look at. There’s a door at one edge, similar to the one you encountered before entering the club square.

The music that wafts through the air is so gentle, you almost forget there’s a celebration. The beat makes it livelier and even so, the rhythm of your heartbeat matches it in a soothing sort of way. Turning around, you spot the musical ensemble. It’s another AI, peering over a guqin with trained habit.

She looks the same, except she wears an electronic mask over the lower half of her face. It displays a blue musical note made up of noticeable pixels. She has no fan—instead, her fingers strum the guqin rhythmically, programmed with precision and grace. The sound is accompanied by the woodwind notes of a flute, though you’re not sure where that sound emanates from. There’s also a soft drumbeat which seems to come from the guqin bot herself.

You gasp when a few painted goldfish float through the air, almost real to look at if it weren’t for the glitch effect of holograms. One of them swims closer to you, opening and closing its mouth in rhythm and you giggle at its face.

Yangyang laughs, long finger pointing at the critter in amusement. “That’s adorable.”

He looks like a little kid and you giggle at his expression, with wide, delighted eyes and mouth open in focused mirth. He pokes at the goldfish and it makes a bubbling sound, gears shifting in ticking time before suddenly biting at his index finger. Yangyang lets out a low yelp, retracting his hand before clearing his throat in embarrassment.

“You’re like a cartoon,” you tell him, in between laughs. “No way are you real.”

He grins, in that same way he always looks at you and you look away, feeling hot in the face. It’s too enamored a way to look at someone. But of course, that couldn’t be true—he’s Liu Yangyang and you’re you. Parallel lines do not meet, even if they’re headed in the same direction.

“I think you’re unreal,” he mumbles.

iii. club 2

The doors open to a rather spacious arrangement, with several tables one one side and a sort of dance arena on the other where people are trying to out-dance each other. The intensity makes you move further away from it. It seems a little too festive and you can feel the energy slinking away from you. The music is more upbeat but you suppose the DJ tried to make it sound more eastern; the result is pleasing. He wears a smooth black helmet with a neon red beat visualizer on it, with written SFX appearing from time to time. Two pulsing golden horns glow at the sides of his head. You stare at it for longer than you’d like before composing yourself. You’re very impressionable when it comes to parties. 

There are two floors to the club, above the bottom floor itself. The other two floors mostly seem to consist of private booths, however, covered with gossamer silk that glow iridescent. A few floating lanterns sway by the upper floors. The ceiling is open to a midnight blue sky and the stars look much larger than you’ve ever seen them—you suspect it’s an AR mesh over the ceiling. A few light shows project little dancing dragons and coins over the sky and you find them too cute to not stare at.

“Wow,” Yangyang says, right after walking in. “Why is Dejun on the table?”

You look where his eyes are focused on, though it’s difficult through the crowd of people, and find Dejun and Kunhang in some sort of old anime transformation pose atop one of the tables. It’s surprising that they’re not the weirdest pair here. 

“Now, bear with me, it’s going to be boring as hell till the countdown and the fireworks,” he explains, waving his hands around. “But it’s a good place to have fun and make friends. You know?”

“Friends?” you ask, a little nervous. You’re not very proficient at making friends and it makes you anxious.

“Yeah! Don’t worry. ” He makes a strange gesture, bordering between posing for a beer ad campaign and looking like a motivational speaker for the army, before furrowing his eyebrows. “You just have to be confident! I’m learning too!”

He lets out a sweet laugh and it makes you laugh in turn, hand covering your mouth so you don’t embarrass yourself too much. You don’t believe the words much, but the glow over his cheeks makes you reconsider.

“You look really nice when you laugh,” he comments, a bright glint in his eyes.

“Whatever,” you reply, punching his shoulder lightly.

Just then, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder to find Lana from your ethical AI class, smiling at you warmly. She looks a little tired, of people more than the time. Like you, she is also a scholarship student—and not a day has gone when she hasn’t soothed your anxiety about your classes. In stark contrast with Yangyang, you would trust her over him for most tasks. Even if you weren’t partners, you’re okay with the outcome. You glance at Yangyang.

“(name)! Oh my god, I didn’t know you were coming here,” she says. “Did Yangyang kidnap you?” 

“I mean, sort of.”

“Hey.” Yangyang looks at you with betrayal.

“And how did you even manage to do that cool ass project with him as your partner?” she continues, squinting at him.

“Honestly, I don’t know either. He can be surprisingly helpful though.”

Yangyang looks from Lana to you in exasperation. “I’m literally right here,” he grumbles. 

Lana laughs at his expression, patting his shoulder sympathetically. 

“I just can’t believe you let him kidnap you and not me,” she says in mock indignance. “I’m a much better chauffeur, you know?”

“Do you even have a driving license?” Yangyang asks, laughing.

“I got mine before you, rat. Anyway, (name), I’m playing the guzheng. Do you wanna come see?”

“No,” Yangyang interrupts, suddenly grabbing your hand. “I… I mean you guys can go, of course. It's just the countdown’s close, so we have to go to the viewpoint.”

“That’s exactly where—ah. I see.”

"We'll join you another time, Lana," he says quietly, a cute grin on his face like a little boy would make to an older sister for more shares of chocolate. 

"No, no. I actually remembered I left my friends in the corner. See you!"

She leaves her epiphany unsaid, offering you a smile and taking her leave abruptly.

“I thought you told me to socialize,” you complain to Yangyang. 

“Yes, I’m so proud of you for that.”

“Yangyang, I swear if you treat me like a kid—”

“I’m not, I’m not. Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I just need to borrow you for tonight. After all, I promised you, didn’t I?”

You sigh. “Fine then, what’s this viewpoint you’re talking about?”

“Oh, we’ll get there.”

Someone’s watching you. You turn around a full three-sixty but find only the same crowd of college-age kids. No one sticks out much, apart from Dejun, Kunhang and Ten, who are at this point performing some sort of strange ritual unbeknownst to any new year tradition, with a hell load of yelling.

“Oh my god, you’re dancing too?” Yangyang says, grinning ear to ear. “I didn’t know I’d have that much of a positive influence. Wow.”

“I’m- I’m not- never mind.”

Yangyang furrows his eyebrows. “What did I tell you? More confidence! See—”

He takes your hands in his, pulling you further onto the dance floor. You feel a rising panic but swallow it. There’s a beat of silence in which the two of you look at each other. Yangyang proceeds to perform the stupidest sequence of movements you have ever seen, certainly too awkward for his body to accept as natural but it doesn’t seem like he cares. He’s having fun.

You find yourself laughing. Taking timid steps, you try to loosen up although the inevitable embarrassment arrives in flushes of heat across your face. There are stars in Yangyang’s eyes when you join him—not the artificial jewels in observatories but the real kind that you used to see in your hometown.

You take a wobbly step back. It’s starting to get disorienting. If it were the real sky above you, you might even have felt better. Perhaps the purpose is to get dizzy.

“I’m a little thirsty,” Yangyang says, motioning to the table with food and drinks at a corner. “I’ll head over and be back.”

Unsure what to do, you follow him like a lost lamb and though it would be embarrassing at any other time, any other place, now and here are not part of that.

The red and golden lights of the neon patterning the walls don’t seem as harsh anymore and you let your eyes rest on the boyish figure of Yangyang. You haven’t figured him out yet. Something tells you he’s more than a shallow image of the party-loving rich kids of Shanghai. In fact, in quiet, personal moments, he looks more out of place than you do—despite all that bright neon. You open your mouth to ask something when you’re interrupted by a dizzy Yangyang spinning into you. 

“Sorry, (name),” he says, rubbing the base of his palm against his forehead. “I genuinely thought I was going to win that game.”

You shake your head, letting him get back to whatever spinning game they were at. He smells like wine and something tells you he’s poor at holding his liquor. The stakes must be high for that game, you figure, because you see Yangyang set aside his beloved shoe on the floor. To be the only scholarship student here suddenly feels scary and awkward.

Yangyang once again tugs at your arm, the touch reassuring as though he understands how you feel. But it isn’t true. There’s no way someone like him can understand someone like you.

“Yangyang,” you call. “Do you come here every year?”

“No, no. I do come for drinks though. I’m only here right now because a friend is hosting this.”

You shrug.

“And you,” he adds and you feel a hot flush rise to your face. “New years are the only time this place is PG-13.”

“I’m not a child,” you snap.

“My mom says childish people say that.”

“Then it's very rich coming from you, Liu Yangyang.”

He laughs heartily, leaning away. A creeping thought grows in your head that you missed out on a lot. But then again, you’ll always miss out on things if you’re not rich enough for them.

Yangyang flinches suddenly, almost knocking a plate off the table. He moves quickly, turning so that his side leans against the wall and the other arm cages you between him and the wall. His frame covers your view from whatever, or whoever arrived at the entrance that made him react so obnoxiously.

However, his lips hovering just a little over yours makes your breath hitch in your throat. This is the worst possible position you could've gotten into. The smell of mint interrupts your thoughts and you look at him with as annoyed an expression as you can muster over the heat of your face.

"Yangyang, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

“I am… admiring the wall. Ooh, it’s got velvet over it, did you notice?”

 “You’re going to have your head in it too if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

"Just… sorry. Let’s stay like this for a few moments."

He flashes you an apologetic smile, his face close enough to make yours grow even hotter. A nervous chuckle erupts from his lips. 

"Oh my god, get off. People are going to think we’re making out."

"We could do it for real." 

"I'm going to scratch your eyes out."

"Sorry, sorry."

“Who are you even hiding from?”

“I’m not hiding… okay, forget that. Bodyguard-watcher-dude. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You have a bodyguard?”

“More like a babysitter.”

You try not to laugh, considering the proximity between your faces. “How come you have a babysitter? Actually, wait, I think I know.”

He huffs over your face and you restrain yourself from landing a swift uppercut to his jaw. Now you know the minty smell comes from mouth freshener.

“He’s a prosecutor. It’s weird that he stalks me in his free time. Even- even if… my parents are paying him.”

“They think you’re doing something illegal?”

“No. I don’t think I am.”

You rest your head back against the wall, rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s your answer? God, your brain cells rotted somewhere along the way, didn’t they? It’s all those parties.”

“I’m starting to feel like my mom hired you too.”

He looks back, and noting the absence of his so-called babysitter, he pulls back from you. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath and you let it out in a shallow effort.

“Your babysitter’s gone?”

“Not a babysit—I regret saying that. Look, I really don’t think they appointed him because they think I’m doing something illegal. I have never done anything illegal. Except that one street race but that’s because Lucas told me it was perfectly legal.”

“The what?”

“Anyway, the point is, let’s look forward to good fortune for this year, hm? Leave all the burdens to last year.”

“Fortune doesn’t favour fools.”

“I’m not stupid,” he complains, spreading his arms to express it further. “Mostly.”

 You laugh, turning your attention to  the food table.

“Ooh, pineapple tarts,” he exclaims, hand reaching out to grab one when you smack it.

“You’ve had, like, fifteen already.”

“Mhm,” he says, with a few more stuffed in his mouth.

There’s a pause.

“It’s me, isn't it?” you ask quietly. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

He gulps, lips parting and closing. “I brought you here. So you don’t worry about it.”

Rich people suck. You believe that strongly. But sometimes, just sometimes, when you have everything you can ever want, you start to want the same for everyone around you. Some people are special. You find Yangyang genuinely fascinating for being someone who makes friends when he’s supposed to be making more connections. You find him fascinating. 

It makes sense for someone like him to be the way he is.

iv. fireworks viewpoint

“That’s the old Shanghai Tower,” Yangyang points to a building in the distance. “It used to be the tallest building once but… well, it looks like the little guy now.”

Lunar New Year’s celebrations are a big, big deal in New Shanghai. It means a break from university, work and every other affair to have as many priorities sorted in anticipation of the new year. And the impact is evident from this height, when you can see the city in its golden glory. It looks warm out there for once—although you’re not very sure if it’s because of the warmth that comes from right beside you. The little wooden boats float by on the river a little far off, various images blooming as holograms above them. You giggle at the large animated fishes swimming above the river with blank expressions and painted button eyes. 

The golden clock shines bright in the sky, its holographic hands ticking down to midnight. It looks like something out of a fantasy movie, scattering golden pixels everywhere with each minute passing. The size of it alone reminds you of the scale of this city.

This is an empire. It's owned by the kings and queens who built it over the bones left from sacrifices. It's going to be owned by heirs and heiresses. You feel a looming sense of dread come over you. It's so beautiful and it can never belong to itself. It must always belong to someone. It’s the terms and conditions of human creation.

"Hey." Yangyang taps you on the shoulder and you try not to flinch. "What are you thinking?"

You hum. "Stuff."

"This place is pretty cool, huh?"

That, you can agree with. "It is. It's so amazing that I can't believe I'm here sometimes."

Yangyang laughs slowly. "I hope more people can live here. Not in level one. You know. No one should live in desperation."

You hold back a scoff, though you end up frowning. What does a rich kid know of desperation? He might as well be prince, and princes do not know how to beg. It must be something of a saviour complex. You shrink away from him. The new year music is starting to ring a little too loud in your ears.

"That would be difficult," you mutter.

"Not if you lower the cost of living conditions—ah. Sorry." He pauses and you feel a flicker of surprise in you. “It’s not appropriate to discuss. Or so my parents tell me…”

The expression comes from empathy. You’re sure of it. There’s some sort of passion and not the kind of coloured fire that flames up in parties, but a different one. The kind that says, if you can’t bear the heat then you can’t learn how to forge. You scoff. Which prince has possibly known heat?

“I- I get angry too,” you say quietly. “I think it’s something to be angry about.”

He smiles at you, leaning against the balcony railing. 

You’re interrupted by a man in the attire of a waiter and it causes the two of you to jump away from each other. It’s not like you were very close in the first place but the proximity of shared words can play tricks on people. The man offers the two of you a screen and Yangyang’s face lights up almost immediately.

“We can order food with this,” he says. “Or book a table. The top strips are all reserved for members of the club. That’s the big daddy restaurants.”

“That’s… pretty cool,” you say, leaning in to glance over the browsing menu. “But don’t say that phrase to me again.”

“I can. And I will.”

“Ugh. Move on.”

“Okay, so we should drop by the convenience store for some ramen. I heard they taste better in the middle of the night,” Yangyang suggests all of a sudden, leaning in further.

It gets difficult sometimes to not be bothered by him, especially when there is a lack of distance. You look at him, pause and then sigh. “Sure. I guess. Are those free too?”

He opens his mouth in sudden realization and grins sheepishly at you. You roll your eyes.

“Do you have money then?”

“Uh.”

“How do you not have money? It’s the New Year!”

“I… uh—”

“Okay, you don’t have to answer that. But I’m not paying for you,” you complain. “You could always ask your parents for some money. What’s the point of being a party kid?”

‘Party kids’—it makes you laugh in amusement—is the colloquial term given to the children of businesspeople who had a direct hand in the economic progress of New Shanghai. You would sell your kidneys to be one and it still wouldn’t be enough.

His smile wavers at your statement but he shakes his head. “If I call my mom, she’ll start scolding me again about how my apartment room needs to be cleaner. Blah, blah, blah. You know.”

“She’s right- wait, you don’t clean your room?”

“Don’t take her side, (name).” 

You bite down a smile and he offers you his biggest one. 

“Oh, that place looks new,” Yangyang exclaims, a long index finger pointing to the preview of a sushi restaurant. You glare at him, his face nearer to yours than you would prefer but his eyes are fixed like a child ogling halloween candy.

“Let’s go,” he urges, looking directly at you. 

You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head vehemently. “We don’t have money. Or bit-credits.”

He sighs, deflating as though you just snatched the candy right from his hands. “But… I haven’t been there before.”

“So?” You exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You don’t have to try every food place in the city.”

“I need to eat,” he says as though it’s a very reasonable response. “I’m still growing!”

“Not mentally.”

He drops his smile, looking at you blankly. “You don’t have to get so smart with me, let me tell you.”

You snicker at the ‘offended’ expression on his face.

In the next moment, your attention shifts to the sudden crowd of people rushing to the balcony. Yangyang pulls you closer to avoid getting pushed by them, and you look around confused. It all makes sense when they start chanting the numbers, counting down from ten. You can only stare in awe at the clock and the otherworldly glee in the rhythmic chants. It’s like they don’t feel anything but joy at this moment. You let yourself smile.

The clock strikes twelve. The sound of the bell resounds throughout the city and the firecrackers burst into a thousand shades of red and gold across the sky. There’s moving images of animals, floating text and other animations which make the night sky seem like a screen. The sparks of the fireworks look like golden snow, or even happy little pixels.

You point your finger to the sky excitedly but when you turn, Yangyang’s eyes aren’t on the sky but on your hand outstretched towards it. He faces you, rather hesitantly as though caught red-handed.

“You’re- you’re… so pretty,” he says, softly and shrugging as if answering a question.

You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that. It’s the lonely speaking, right? The euphoria of human connection in this time and age—it can make you believe anything. There’s a myriad of colours blooming in the sky behind you, a city dazzling with diamond and ruby lights, people with much more stories to tell than you do. This city, this city, this city. This city will break your heart. 

“It’s kind of crappy,” you mutter, to which Yangyang quirks an ear.

“Wh-what is?”

“This city. It’s got bright lights and fun and all those promises of success. But all I see are people desperately trying to survive. All I see are the same faces at the top and—I’m sorry. I’m getting carried away.”

“No, no.” He makes a vague gesture. “I’m listening.”

“We’re at their mercy,” you whisper. “My life is not my own. That’s crappy.”

Yangyang hums in response. “You're right. What’s the point of living a life that’s not your own?”

Looking at him again, you see the entire figure of his being against the fireworks and all the beautiful creations of the human race. His almost silver hair falls perfectly by his forehead, the contact lenses looking like glazed frost over his eyes. Just as vibrant and excessive as the city itself, Yangyang belongs here. This is his kingdom. 

No, that’s not quite right perhaps. Yangyang belongs anywhere because he brings warmth. You're suddenly grateful he's with you because no one you know would possibly go out of their way to make you feel comfortable like this. You know Yangyang loves people and crowds. No one would do that for you at the expense of their own enjoyment. You smile at the prospect of solving the blinding mystery that he is.

"We… should leave," Yangyang says, all of a sudden. He eyes a man at the corner of the balcony, dressed in a business suit and looking blank. He sticks out like a sore thumb. You're not sure why he's in that getup.

"Okay," you say, not sure why you're so agreeable tonight.

Maybe it's the night. Sometimes all you can do is drag your feet over the asphalt and hope it'll be sunnier tomorrow.

v. two-four-seven convenience store

College boys are the most god-awful creatures on earth.

“Hey, do you always reach class on time?” Yangyang asks, eyes curious. He keeps asking a question every five minutes or so, trying to keep up conversation. You've already told him he doesn't have to. However, it makes you strangely comfortable to hear the sound of his voice periodically. You won't tell him that.

You nod, returning your gaze to the window, though the advertisements block your view. You can always try skipping the ad every five goddamn seconds. 

It's your first time riding the train that travels through the Mobius Strip, and certainly the first time in a luxury cabin. Since it’s free for members of the new year club, you can heave a sigh of relief. You will never in your life, even if it’s genetically elongated, ever be able to afford a luxury cabin.

"Oh, that looks so good," Yangyang says, large hand smacking against the window to get rid of the colourful advertisements. 

"It's a convenience store, Yangyang," you say. "It's got everyday ramen."

"No, look. It's a different brand. And they're giving a burger for free with two ramen cups!"

You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Well, I guess it's cheaper too."

"Oh, we can go to one of the upper restaurants too. They're free, remember?"

"I like convenience stores," you mumble. There's something about the lack of even lighting and crowds that made them a comfort spot for you.

“Quick,” he says, pulling you off the seat when the train stops.

“Yangyang!” you warn. He's so easily excitable that you find it hard to believe he's real sometimes.

However, when he turns around with his big puppy-dog eyes, you curse at yourself before you curse at him. Sighing, you follow him down the steps, his hand tenderly holding yours. Sometimes, you wonder if the human touch means anything at all in this diamond and steel era. Yangyang’s palm is warm against yours.

The ramen tastes awfully delicious on stolen time, and you would complain more if it weren’t for Yangyang looking at you with so serene a look. It annoys you and you try to grab his attention by waving your chopsticks in front of him. When it doesn’t work, you resort to swearing. You’ve never seen anyone respond with a smiling hum after being told to “eat shit”.

“Oh, this tastes so good,” he states, cheeks puffed with food. “I think I’m going to cry.”

“I- I think you’re crying because it’s spicy.”

“Oh.”

As usual, Yangyang pokes and prods at you with questions about your daily life, like you’re the most interesting thing in a city full of blinding lights, world-class robots and cyber-enhanced technology. You don’t understand how he doesn’t just grow tired of asking every single detail about you.

Apart from the fact that Liu Yangyang is most certainly an environmental hazard, some part of you cannot believe that he's truly terrible. There's something innocent about him, but all at once, something quiet and mysterious. 

“Why are you always so curious, Yangyang?” you ask finally. “Why are you always running off to different places?”

“Because experiences never come twice,” he answers after some thinking. It seems to be a little difficult for him to articulate, deep contemplation over his features when he continues. “This city… all the lights and clubs and arenas, all of it will be gone someday. Like we don’t have telephones or those big computers anymore.”

You rest your chin on your palm, leaning in.

“This moment, right here with you… I’ll never experience it again,” he tells you. “We can have more midnight convenience store ramen sometime later but… each time will be different. I’d rather live now.”

You smile softly. “That’s a funny thought to live by.”

“Yours isn’t any better,” he says, patting your head. “Also, I’m like hot and young and popular and not a cyborg—how can I miss parties?”

You shake your head, laughing. He’s ridiculous. He’s completely ridiculous. In that moment, when you look at him, Yangyang seems to be smiling in a daze, eyes on your face.

“You look nice when you smile,” he says quietly.

"Thanks," you respond. "I should keep it a secret then, huh?"

"Not from me," he says, smiling. 

Somehow, the extra minutes you have at the convenience store turn to a few multiplayer games and then, ditching technology, to an arm wrestling match.

"I feel like this game is kind of unfair," you say after losing almost immediately. He's clearly got stronger muscles. Does he work out? Probably against his will, you bet.

“My right arm’s a lot stronger than my left arm,” he says, before looking a little horrified. “That wasn’t a masturbation joke, by the way. I am so sorry.”

You roll your eyes. "Give me your left hand then- wait. You're right-handed?"

"That's not the- uh." He thinks for a moment, trying to gather words. “That’s not the reason.”

“I, uh, I heavily damaged this arm when I was a kid—don’t look like that, there’s a fun part to this. It’s made of titanium! And some other things. The names are too complicated.”

You drive your fingers over the arm, so warm and real and flushed red, anything but metal and code. You find curiosity blooming in you more than ever before.

“You know why I’m not with family,” you say, straightening. “But why aren’t you celebrating with your family?” 

He gets quiet, thinking to himself for a few more moments. You almost regret asking when he answers, a hesitant sound leaving him first.

“None of us, uh… none of our parents can spare more than three hours. They’ll come in the afternoon tomorr—today.”

You can’t exactly respond to that very well.

“So all of us go hang out at the New Year’s Club.”

You frown. "But it's not a celebration without family!"

"We have new year lunches. And… it's the future. Traditions die. Very few grieve them for fear of being stuck in the past."

You feel partly horrified and partly dismal. "I… You could come with me next year, if you like."

You're not sure where the offer comes from but Yangyang lights up at the idea.

"I can? Oh, we'll have so much fun!"

"Slow down. There's a year to go."

Yangyang laughs. It's surprising the way he turned out. He must have gotten tired of waiting by the door. And now you know all the things about him that his parents don’t.

You smile at him, warming up to the idea of you and him as friends before scoffing at it again.

Right in the next moment, Yangyang dips suddenly to the ground, crouching below the table. You look around in surprise and fall to your knees with a yelp at the tug on our wrist from Yangyang.

“What the hell?” you hiss. “You’re starting to act really weird.”

“I- Sorry. It’s an emergency,” he says, but there’s no sign of distress in his voice. He simply smiles at you. Perhaps he’s never heard of the emotion as of yet.

“Your babysitter?”

“I say that once and on accident—yes, it’s my babysitter.”

You chuckle. He’s simply too cute at times. 

“We have to be discreet now, okay? It’s like—what’s the movie called? Oh, Mission Impossible.”

“I’ve never seen that.”

“What? How can you not? It’s a classic! It’s got so many cool—ah, I’ll show you another time.”

You hum, staring at Yangyang’s facial features tense up and relax again as he scans the vicinity outside the window of the convenience store. It’s full of people, even at this hour so you can’t possibly know who’s looking at you from there.

Yangyang turns back to you. “Have you ever been to blue moon station?”

“The one with the pretty walls? No. No, I’ve never even gone beyond Strip Two.”

Yangyang smiles at you and right then, you feel like you’re about to resent whatever’s going to happen next. It’s in the ebb and flow of tonight’s itinerary, however, and you relax your shoulders just as he does a roll across the floor, looking back at you with a grin for executing it flawlessly. 

“You’re so silly,” you mutter. 

“I heard that,” he whisper-shouts back.

You’re not as afraid as before, you realize. The lights are absolutely mesmerizing.

vi. blue moon station

It drops a few degrees in temperature once you step foot onto the platform. You can see a bunch of scattered tourists, cameras hanging around their neck and a look of awe over their faces. 

Yangyang takes off his jacket, shivering immediately but offering it to you nonetheless. When you refuse, he places it gingerly over your shoulders.

"Is that a…?"

"A tourist bot, yes."

"Oh my god, it's so cute," you say, crouching by the little red robot, a teal-colored smiley face popping up on its monitor.

"A lot of tourists in this station," you note.

"Yeah. It's very… visually pleasing."

That's true. The walls are screens with three dimensional graphics, immersive enough to catch one's eye. A single tree grows through the middle of the station, evergreen and alive with holographic flora and fauna. The sun shines eternally over the tree. It's so beautiful that you had trouble taking your eyes off it at first.

The walls next to you are currently displaying a walk through a fantasy forest, crafted by a visionary artist, no doubt. A blue butterfly flies past you and you stare at it before zoning out.

Sometimes, the lights are too disorienting. You start to feel dizzy, massaging your forehead when Yangyang brushes the tips of his fingers against your shoulder.

“You good?”

Yangyang crouches beside you with watchful eyes.

You nod, turning your attention to the tourist bot. It displays a plethora of information about the architecture of this place which you're sure no tourist will bother to read beyond the first two lines. 

“You can make it do cool tricks too,” Yangyang says. “Watch.”

Yangyang pokes at it with his index finger, drawing a pattern over the screen. The bot proceeds to do an old internet dance, waving about its arms and hips. You laugh at it and Yangyang looks at you with the pride of a third grader with first place on their science project.

The colours on the walls change and you see the animation of a man and a fox, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to recall that image. They seem to be broadcasting fables through the holograms. You can’t deny that they’re pretty—glowing with auspicious colours and as animated as the real world itself. As if by compulsion, you hold Yangyang’s hand. It’s nice to feel the human touch real once in a while, especially in the overwhelming loneliness of city nights.

Yangyang looks at you brightly and right then, you feel less inclined to leave him.

“You know, I could teach you better ways to flirt than just grab my hand,” he says, grinning like an idiot.

“What?” 

You move your hand. “I’m not flirting.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he responds quickly. “Can I please have your hand back?”

You shake your head, laughing. He worries you. Some part of you says you shouldn’t be worried. It’s not like you’re close friends. (Friends, maybe. Close, not yet.)

The night has a different opinion.

—

“Found you,” a voice declares, and the two of you jump into each other with a scream.

The man in the suit looks at you with a fatigued look in his eyes, hair somehow still neat though he breathes like his lungs are on fire. 

“Care to tell me why you’ve been skipping my calls?” he asks after catching his breath. “It’s not like I wanted to follow you—you just needed to tell me.”

“I… I was busy?” Yangyang flashes a smile. “Kun-ge, I honestly had no idea you called. I don’t even have my phone.”

The man shakes his head. “Fine. Just head over to Jasmine for the night. And you can bring your date too.”

He gestures at you and you want to deny it as quick as you can. You do not, however. It’s almost like you’ve warmed up to the idea of it rather well.

“Okay,” Yangyang answers quietly. 

vii. jasmine private lounge

You enter a lounge with the capacity of around a hundred people. Despite that, there are hardly five present. The walls are black with neon jasmines pulsating from blue to red. A grand piano lies still in all its elegance in the middle of the lounge, played by a plain white AI. It feels like an expensive place to be, and more so, it feels like someplace you’re not supposed to step foot into. There's a bar table at one side, opposite to the entrance which glows a hypnotizing purple. A flat lettering on the wall declares the time to be 3 A.M.

You and Yangyang sit a little too close on the artificially warmed couch, waiting for Kun to return. Yangyang reassures you that you haven't done anything wrong but the illicit outing of yours certainly says otherwise. You contemplate tasting the cocktail Yangyang ordered before finally giving in and find it pleasantly warm to taste. You take another sip.

“It’s a little strong,” Yangyang warns. “Don’t have all of—you had all of it.”

You shrug. Your throat certainly feels better now. This lounge is fucking cold.

"You know, Yangyang," you say with the warmth of confidence on your face. "You're a really nice guy."

He smiles incredulously. "Thanks. You're really nice too."

"And you're pretty decent-looking—"

"I know that."

"—and also popular. So why are you always hanging around me?"

"Uh, that's your question?"

You nod. Placing your cheek against your palm, you try not to sink into the couch.

"Because you're really cool!" He answers before clearing his throat. "I mean. I think you're fun to be around. You make me see things clearer."

"And what exactly are you wanting to see clearer?'

"You."

You blink aside your astoundment, straightening. "What?"

Your question is left unanswered because a man enters and sits across the two of you, a loud huff of annoyance leaving his mouth. It's not just his disposition but the architecture of his face that grabs your attention. He looks like an AI robot so perfectly crafted with coloured lips and flawless skin that you end up staring till Yangyang elbows you.

“He’s not an AI,” Yangyang whispers.

You furrow your brows and notice it is, in fact, true that he's not an AI. There are no ridges over the joints or hollowness in the eyes. He wears the same frost-patterned smart lenses as Yangyang does. However, it doesn't change the fact that the man is beautiful to look at.

“I’m never hosting a new year party again,” he mutters, sinking into the couch.

“It actually sounds kind of fun,” Yangyang interjects. “I can’t wait for my turn.”

“I’m sorry. Good luck standing at Longhua temple for three hours till midnight just to make sure nothing goes wrong. Without dinner.”

Yangyang makes a face at that.

"That's Sicheng-ge," he says, turning to you. 

"Ah," you say in response, remembering the name vaguely. 

"He let us into Club 2," Yangyang says, noticing your lost expression.

"I think Kun's looking for you," Sicheng says, eyes trained at the back. 

His hands fidget with the dim blue buttons at the edge of the table, till a small compartment reveals itself under the glass. An old world-style cigarette is slowly pushed up and Sicheng picks it up. He offers the next one to Yangyang, who accepts it hesitantly. No one smokes tobacco anymore when nicotine is so readily available. Alas, human nature is to want things deadly and out of reach.

“So how’s Cat?” Yangyang asks, fumbling with the plasma lighter he picked from a compartment on the side.

Sicheng smiles a little, the smoke from his cigarette snaking around him as he raises a hand to dissipate it.

“She’s doing fine. Running everything as usual.”

“Of course. Boss lady.” Yangyang does an awkward salute.

“Oh, a new hair color too. As pretty as flower fields in the spring of ‘22.”

Sicheng’s lovesick rambling is interrupted by Yangyang hacking his lungs out. You turn to him and he avoids your gaze, reaching for a crystal blue  glass of water one of the helper bots offer. So, he’s not even a smoker? Why did he think you would care? 

“Anyway, Kun is glaring daggers at me now. You better get out of here.” Sicheng grimaces.

You turn around to see Kun by the bar table, gesturing towards Yangyang to come. You're not sure why but either of those men make you nervous. 

"I'll be right back," Yangyang says, scrambling up and leaving you in a long awkward silence with Sicheng.

“So, uh, I’m assuming you’re oblivious to that lovestruck puppy following you around?” Sicheng asks, raising an eyebrow. “Or is this some game you guys are into? I’m not judging you for that.”

Your face heats up and you fidget with your collar. “The- A what? Game? Uh? I- huh?”

Sicheng tries to press down his smile but it’s evident enough for you to see. Did you say something funny? Did Yangyang say something funny about you? Oh, you’re going to kill him.

“For all that he talks, he’s kind of terrible at pulling together his own love life.” 

“I- I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

It still unnerves you to look at him. He certainly looks more android than human when he’s not making any particular expression.

“Don’t mind me,” he says, offering you a reassuring smile. “You should find Yangyang before he lands the two of you in trouble.”

You turn to look at Yangyang through the glass and turn back nodding. Sicheng offers you a parting smile and you hesitantly make your way to the bar table.

"This isn't in my job description," Kun tells Yangyang just before you arrive. "I didn't know being a lawyer included babysitting."

The tips of Yangyang's ears heat up when he notices you.

"It's not babysitting," he murmurs. “Also, you’re not my mom.”

"You, Ten, Kunhang, all of you give me such a hard time," he continues but pauses right when he notices you. 

"Oh, hello. (Name), isn't it?" He says, smiling politely. He's quite young and handsome for a lawyer. "Yangyang talks about you a lot."

"Oh," you respond. "Really?"

Yangyang glares at the older man. "You don't have to say everything, Kun-ge."

"You interested in law?" Kun asks, offering you a seat between him and Yangyang.

You make a face. The law is a tool for the rich and powerful. But then again, what isn’t? The world is in your hands when you have billions to spare. However, you still can’t imagine being a rich man's guard dog your whole life.

Kun chuckles. "You kids are interested in tech more, aren't you?"

Yangyang interrupts, "You talk like you're fifty years old."

Kun grimaces, resting his face against his hand. Shooting a glare at Yangyang, he finishes the rest of his wine.

You're not exactly interested in tech or engineering or the big kid jobs either. You just want a way to survive this man-made food chain. Rich eats the world till there’s nothing left on the plate. Then again, you'd rather be a pet than get eaten.

"Anyway," Kun turns to Yangyang. "If you see Ten, give me a call."

Yangyang signals with a thumbs up gesture, watching as Kun’s figure slowly makes its way out of the gate. It’s the two of you again and suddenly, you feel a strange sort of feeling overcome you. Leaning your throbbing forehead against Yangyang’s shoulder, you take some soft breaths and skip the part where you question your actions. It’s pleasant, at the very least. He shifts his chair closer, extending his arm around you so that your head rests against his shoulder more comfortably.

“You must be tired,” he mutters.

“You didn’t answer me,” you say. “Answer in a way I understood, at least.”

“Hm?”

“Why do you hang around me?”

“Do you not… want me to?”

“No. I like your company, actually. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Yangyang laughs. “You’re… you’re really perfect. As a person. At least to me, you seem that way.”

You scoff. “You’re a long way off there.”

“No. No, you felt like clockwork,” he continues. “When I first met you. I couldn’t believe you were real.”

You do work like a delirious robot on clockwork steroids. But you’re not very proud of it. You don’t think overworking is a good personality trait to have—even if it’s for survival. However, the faraway look in Yangyang’s eyes suggests that’s not what he means.

“I felt like I understood you,” he continues after a short pause.

You find it unbelievable. That’s the one sentence you could never imagine coming from him to you, much less agree with. But right then, as his warmth seeps into you, you want to agree desperately.

Yangyang feels an unexpected trickle of doubt down his throat. No matter how many times he’s practised in front of the mirror, the words don’t come out right when you’re with him. With everything you do, he feels more drawn in. There’s something familiar and something honest. And if he’s honest himself, he just likes you. What sort of a hypocrite should he be categorized as, to tell his friends to ‘just confess’ to their crushes when he’s a complete idiot when it comes to you? It can’t be that little voice from his childhood that tells him to stay in order.

Yangyang understands that there are rules to this world but he doesn’t get what those have got to do with him. He sighs, the sound somewhat grim when it comes from him.

"I've seen it before," he says, "People come from all over the country with hopes and dreams, and they get their hearts broken by capitalism."

You frown.

"I don't want you to go anywhere," he mumbles. "I hope you'll stay… even if- even if you feel like that, you know? If you're feeling lonely, I could—"

"Yangyang." You smile. "I’m quite comfortable here."

When you bury your nose into the crook of his neck, Yangyang thinks this is it. This is how he ends the sorry excuse of flirting he’s been trying with you and says something he regrets. It was never this difficult with the other crushes he’s had. He’s always left opening his mouth and then promptly closing it like a goldfish out of water every single time he wants to bring up dating with you. He’s always honest. So, what’s the big deal this time? This is so horrendously not cool of him.

You straighten. “We should get back home.”

“Can you- Can you not move so far from me, please?” Yangyang murmurs, hands gripping yours.

You smile, to yourself more to him but that’s one he likes the most.

“You’re a really interesting person, Yangyang.”

“I am?” He clears his throat and repeats the question. 

“How are you so nice to people?”

“I think people are nice.”

“Why do you like parties?”

“They’re fun.”

“When the party’s over, who do you go to?” you ask, words mushing into each other.

“Home,” he answers, gulping down what seems like more words. “Like always.”

A hush falls between the two of you. You’re asking quite the questions.

“I’m sweaty,” you mutter. “I hate being sweaty.”

“You look wonderful though,” Yangyang mumbles, more to himself than to you. “Not that being sweaty makes you wonderful. You’re just nice.”

There’s another hush, the notes of the piano playing a faraway, romantic tune. He turns away and looks back at you again, but right in that moment, you lean forward to press your lips against his. It’s so sudden that he almost falls over backwards, his feet planted firmly on the ground the only thing preventing that from happening. The next thing he thinks is that your lips are on fire and it’s the most comfortable feeling he’s ever experienced. 

The two of you fit into each other like clockwork, Yangyang thinks. It’s the one thing in his life that feels whole. Not that he isn’t whole by himself—he just loves your warmth. For a moment he feels like he’s on cloud nine and the next, his heart plummets when he feels you go limp in his arms. 

It breaks his heart a little but he doesn’t—can’t bring himself to say much. He’s not this bad when he’s drunk, is he? Pulling you up by the waist, he texts Kunhang to bring his car down to the lounge.

This is going to be a long night.

viii. home 

You wake up to the sun in your eyes and immediately know you're someplace you shouldn't be. This isn't your bed. The sun doesn't reach your bed in the morning. This isn’t the dormitory. You see a cubical alarm clock, a pixelated smiley face on it as it displays 10 A.M.

You get up and immediately shriek. You’re not wearing any clothes. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you look around the room. It’s huge; the walls are multicolored with a little section opposite the bed reserved for photographs. There’s a lot of junk all over the floor that you don’t pay mind to when you notice Yangyang.

“Yangyang?!”

He rouses blinking slowly, hair going every which way and his eyes still unfocused. He looks like he’s had a difficult night.

“Why are you on the floor?” you ask, shrinking further into the ridiculously soft bed when he gets up. Massaging the back of his neck, he looks like he's looking at a mirage instead of a real live person. Unfortunately, he’s not wearing a shirt and you look away after a prolonged minute of staring. This is getting ridiculous. What are you doing here?

“Yangyang!”

“Huh? Oh!”

He seems to be finally awake. You should pop the question before it eats you alive.

"Did- Did we…?"

Yangyang blinks at you in confusion before a loud "oh" erupts from his mouth.

"No!" He says in between laughter. "No, we didn't. Oh my god, you’re so funny. You took off your clothes saying it's too hot and smacked me with them. I didn’t look, by the way.”

Your jaw drops. You can’t even form words through the pulsing headache.

“Your clothes are on the chair. And I didn’t touch your underwear. Out of respect."

You avoid eye contact in embarrassment. 

“And… well, you did kiss me once. Twice.”

You look up alarmed and he raises his arms in defense. 

“You- you were drunk so I had to push you off. You cried a little after that. Sorry.”

“Oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, sitting down on the bed. That has to be the most embarrassing thing you could have done.

“You- Don’t worry about that. You’re a good kisser. I was kind of surprised,” he offers in an attempt to make you feel better but you only grow hotter in the face.

“And- And I liked it,” he adds in a panic. “Wait, I don’t mean it in a creepy way.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t anyone else.”

“What?”

“You. It’s okay if it’s you.”

You give him a weak smile, still not over the embarrassment.

Yangyang laughs. “I… I think I should’ve said this before but… can I take you out on a date?”

“What were we doing last night then?”

“Well, that was- ah. You’re teasing me. Motherfucker.”

You giggle into your palm. When he takes a seat on the bed, you make a distressed sound and he jumps up immediately.

“My clothes,” you hiss. “Get out of the room so I can wear them.”

“Right,” he says, pointing an index finger at you.

He turns around right then. "By the way…"

You shriek, pulling the cover up all the way to your nose.

"Sorry," he says, averting his eyes immediately. "If- if that was a date, did you like it? Do you wanna go on another one?"

You can see him practically sweat bullets and you laugh at the innocuous questions. He’s too cute. You can’t believe you made yourself shake off the thought every time it crossed you. However indelicate his touch is, you welcome it nonetheless.

"Yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you. You annoying, stupid, bratty idiot." 

“Okay, that was mean.”

Watching his figure leave through the door, you relax your shoulders. In the end, people will always be people. No matter what shiny new toy you give them to play with, people will always search for happiness, and they will laugh and cry and fall in love with people and places and things over and over again. It's lovely to be human in an era of diamond and steel.

[fruithoughts]

. . . stories he posted just for you to see

[meiideryz]

sounds of strings.

pairing: liu yangyang x reader

length: 2.68k

synopsis: yangyang is a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one.

tags: alternative universe, rock band au, wayv ensemble, unrequited love, rockstar!yangyang ft. hendery, one-sided attraction, implied pining, house partying, yangyang is head over heels for you consented, drunk kissing, slight heavy make-out session, alcohol consumption, mentions of vulgar/foul words.

note: the plot idea came from my sibling who intended to make this as a xhy social media au to be posted on another platform (if you are interested in reading it, please anticipate later on in twitter!), so i was granted permission to write their favorite part of the plot to see how it would turn out, and here it is!

yangyang couldn't understand why every person he knows is so drawn to him but not you.

he was that rockstar who played his maroon matted electric guitar in big bars to perform on stage. he was that rockstar that everyone would talk about in broad daylight. he loved the way people would get excited seeing him at his gigs and get asked to take pictures with him. 

but the fact that out of all people, you don't show interest in him in the slightest bit upsets him. 

one of his friends was hosting a party later tonight, and he was asked to perform at their place. yangyang made sure to dress nicely in case you were coming to see him perform. 

when he and his band arrived, you were already there chilling in the backyard; drinking, talking, having fun with your friends. wanting to approach you, he took a step forward with a gentle smile on his face that was completely wiped off as soon as his other band member snaked his arm around your waist. the man holding you closer to an intimate position which led you to place your palms on his chest. 

“hey, beautiful.” 

right, he exactly understood why you never had interest in him. 

he had no choice but to watch hendery spew out sweet words to you. he stared at your reddened cheeks, letting out a nervous breathy laugh while the man before you held you still with a hand on your hip. 

“we’re about to perform, cheer for me?” the way hendery held eye contact with you was long and arousing. yangyang couldn’t handle watching anymore, tearing his eyes away from the scene, leaving the band member alone. 

as he walked towards the set where they were gonna perform, the sound of short breaths coming from his back until a hand grabbed on his shoulders to stop him. 

“why'd you leave me there?” hendery asked, there was laughter in his tone, which made yangyang roll his eyes. he took the maroon electric guitar in his grasp before turning on the amplifier beside him to adjust the sounds. 

“jealous, perhaps?” a question that kept him still in his spot.

yangyang knew he was trying to insinuate things, but he also knew that he wasn't wrong for that. although his friend had his eyes for you, yangyang wanted you, too- despite how impossible it was considering the fact that you were at the brink of being wrapped around hendery’s finger.

“i don't have time for that,” prompted him, his tone sounded harsh and rude, but the latter never questioned. “you know, what i want you to do right now is to get the others. we'll be performing in 10 minutes.” completely deviating from the topic, a sigh left the latter's lips before leaving the guitarist alone in the area to set up the instruments. 

when yangyang performed on stage, he scanned the crowd in search of you because seeing you always left him in excitement, thrill, and motivation. he wanted to impress you so much that during their performance, he turned the volume knob up to blast the sounds of his electric guitar, purposely overpowering the other instruments being showcased by his band mates. they would give him stares, but he didn’t care. 

what matters to yangyang is that everyone would get on their feet and jump to the beat, and there he could see you, just watching the band perform. 

his heart raced, finally getting your attention as you stared at him. it saddened him by how impassive you were, and to fix that, he flashed you a smile before going back to strum his fingers on the strings of the instrument. his charismatic image sparked the performance, causing the people to remarkably cheer for the band that gave him a content look on his face. yangyang grinned when you looked away, as he wondered if your cheeks heated up under the flashing color fairy lights shining and blinking above. 

by the time they were finished, the band got off stage to have their time to rest too. hendery left to get the drinks, ten followed to get the food, and kun thanked the host for letting them perform at their house party. 

the rockstar sat in one of the tables in the corner while the next performing band played a soothing jazz genre in the background. a helmet resting beside his clothed thigh while he thumbed over the motor gloves he was wearing in his hands. he inspected the area, finally looking in your direction at the other side of the yard as he watched you talking to your friends. he was so fixated on you, and wondered why you didn't feel the same.

moments passed after casually having a conversation with kun, his eyes found their way back to the direction where you previously were, only to find no one. 

he looked back at the latter, “hey uhm, i'm going back inside, really need to use the restroom right now.” 

getting the chance to excuse himself, he headed inside the house through the crowd. the pulsating of his heart throbbed from the loud beats coming from the speaker that is somewhere around the room that didn't matter to him. 

walking through the crowds was such a hassle to get to the other room, his voice low and soft as he gently pushed through people. it took him a while to do so, the room was illuminated by led lights so it was hard for him to find the exit area to the next room with such minimal source of light.

once he arrived at the corridor, the roaring sounds of screaming filled the room next to him. of course, hendery's voice can't go unnoticed. yangyang exhaled, walking past the door, not feeling the need to come inside and deal with the latter's drunken state. he then continued to find where the restroom is. it could possibly be upstairs, but he might end up witnessing something that he shouldn't need or might regret seeing. 

avoiding the 2nd floor, he continued searching for an available restroom. when he finally found one, he wasted no second getting inside, instantly reminding himself that he got here with a motorbike, and he couldn't risk getting into an accident from drinking too much. yangyang faced the dirty mirror that was filled with smudges of fingerprints and lipsticks. not that he minded it, it was a party after all, he expected these to happen in a house party.

opening the faucet, he removed the leather gloves from each hand, placing it aside before gathering a normal amount of water in his palms, splashing it to his face to try and sober himself up. he repeated the procedure several more times before wiping his face with a clean towel he found in the drawers. 

as he was about to turn off the faucet, the door beside him swung open. startling the rockstar, he reacted quickly, backing away from the door with a wide-eyed expression. then the look on his face softened, finding you holding onto the doorknob. 

he watched as your legs couldn't hold you up anymore, with one step your body launching forward to the ground. “fuck!” yangyang instinctively held his arms out to catch you, preventing you from falling on the floor. 

“i got you, i got you.” he repeated, assuring you in an embrace where you nuzzled yourself in his chest, letting out a laugh as your hands were placed around his shoulders. he heard you slur, telling him how good he was at playing the guitar, following with how good he was with his fingers. yangyang felt like his mind was going blank, hearing some very vulgar words you were whispering to him that he wouldn't even dare to think about.

you really were that drunk. 

yangyang's cheeks heated up, shifting in his position to hold you properly in his arms. “god, what have you been drinking this whole time?” 

“red juice,” you beamed in between hiccups and sniffles. because of the proximity, yangyang couldn't help but feel his heart race at how close you were to him. you were really pretty up close and he wished he could just stare at you for how long he wanted— but you needed help right now and gaping at you wasn’t the best option in this situation.

“hey, let’s get you sober up, okay?” his arms moved down to your thighs, holding it firmly before lifting you up to place you on the restroom counter. your hands never parted away from his neck, instead, you interlock your hands together as you keep clinging onto him, making it harder for yangyang to actually help you.

“look, i’m trying to help you here,” he sighed, his hands going up to clasp around your wrists, trying to pull it down. “your friends might also be looking for you.”

“i don’t care.” you responded, following with a hiccup leaving your lips. “i’m here with you, and that’s all that matters.”

even if yangyang wanted to believe that, you were drunk. he knew what you were like towards him if you weren’t wasted at all with all that drinking. he did wish that there was more to what you stated, as some people said that one’s true feelings unveil when they’re under the influence.

“y-you’re drunk, you don't mean that.” he tried to pull your arms away from him for the second time, only for you to pull him closer.

yangyang's breath hitched, finding himself entangled in an embrace with his face inches to yours, the invitation of your lips tempting him to close the gap.

he composed himself, his arms caging in between your body as his palms rested on the counter to balance himself. as much as the desire was kicking in, he wouldn't do such a thing to you especially of how intoxicated you were, your vulnerability lay bare before him.

“come on, i need to help you and you need to help yourself. we’ve been here for god knows how long and people might start looking for—”

a pair of lips brushed against his. his completely blown pupils dilating at the action as the way you slid your tongue against his bottom lip melted him entirely, his soul leaving his body at that very moment.

yangyang was a nervous trainwreck at this point, not sure whether to push you away or to reciprocate. no matter how much he wanted you so bad, he wouldn’t want to be in conflict with someone who also liked you, especially hendery. he was a man who would completely back off from people his friends like, but not this one. the drummer had already expressed to the rest of the band that he liked you for too long, yet how he craved for your flavored chapstick smearing over his lips, your mouth driving him insane, and shared breaths between kisses was something he yearned for in every way.

he had fallen hook, line, and sinker.

fuck it, hendery won’t know.

it didn't take long before yangyang returned the kiss. he fluttered his eyes closed as he matched the pace of your lips while his hands traveling to grip the sides of your hips to hold you still. he wasn't so sure anymore if he was still sober, but one thing he is certain is how much he felt drunk from the make-out session.

the air around him turned hot, and somehow your hands were now on his hair, tugging it lightly, pulling him closer. his nails digging into the cloth covering your skin. how he wanted to get that thing away, but he eventually didn't as he just wanted to concentrate on your lips over his.

it was merely a perfect mold to his. both lips moved with such passion and hunger for each other as your tongue slipped into his mouth with ease, causing the rockstar to let out a breathy moan.

he felt his heart thumping against his ribs and your chest the more you tried to close the gap between you. the rhythm of both lips turned sloppy, messy, and fiery, craning his neck to deepen the kiss. yangyang knew that once he broke the kiss, he would never get to feel your lips on his again— yet his lungs were screaming at him, begging and seeking for air.

yangyang's chest heaved up and down, finally abandoning your lips to catch his own breath. his sweaty forehead covered in his bangs rested against yours, completely worn out and drained while his hot breath fanned over your mouth.

“you know, you and i are going to regret this when we wake up tomorrow.” he mumbled through exhales. you laughed in return, and it was such a pleasant sound for the rockstar.

an hour passed by and everyone soon left the party, including you. yangyang carried his things to the truck of kun’s car along with the other instruments and equipment. he gave a double pat on the shiny steel of the vehicle. “there you go, take care of roxanne for me.”

kun scrunched his nose up at the name, an eyebrow raised while looking at him. “roxanne?”

“my guitar.”

“...right.” kun's gaze went back to the front window of his car, the key that was inside the ignition key was pulled back out after he had started the engine. yangyang could see hendery and ten's sleeping silhouette in the backseat through the tinted windows, tired after all the performing, eating, and drinking.

“where were you a while ago? i was looking for you after i found out you've been gone for too long,” the former questioned, which made the latter feel a lump in his throat. 

“sorry,” he apologized, “i went up to the balcony to use some stig.”

“oh, well...are you coming with us?” kun asked, hands gripped on the stirring wheel. yangyang refused, waving his hands at him and indicating the three to leave without the rockstar. “i came with my motorbike, i'd be fine alone.” signaling them to go, kun made no second thoughts before driving away from the party, leaving him alone with his motorcycle just around the corner.

he walked back into the backyard where he found his friend and other people cleaning up the area, picking up the used cups and plates on the grass. his hand grasped onto the helmet that he left a while ago during the party as he carefully placed it on his head, adjusting the helmet so that it wasn't too loose nor too tight to wear.

“i’ll get going, thank you!” he yelled out, calling his friend's attention, to which the latter smiled, acting out a salute gesture to acknowledge his presence and bid farewell.

yangyang set his foot out to leave the house, and there he saw his motorcycle at the side that awaited him. he made sure to look at the road before crossing, not wanting to run into some vehicles like he did last time.

the keys in his pants jingled as he took it out, inserting it into the ignition to start the engine of his motorbike. he ensured that his extra helmet was inside the storage under his seat before hopping on, and once he did, he left the area.

he crashed into his bed by the time he arrived at his apartment, and when he woke up this morning, his head throbbed from the massive hangover he had last night. he found himself tucked with the velvet covers of his mattress, his throat dry and itchy, and the oppressive force of his headache squeezing his head tightly.

his phone that was on the nightstand next to him was filled with notifications of messages from his friends. he was met with a video clip that was sent to him and some screenshots of people commenting under the video that was uploaded in a social media platform.

then his heart dropped, watching the video of you and hendery kissing each other at the party last night.

©MEIIDERYZ 2024. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[wayvchip]

wayv as types of drunk people at a party

kun

— wouldn't get drunk LMAO

— designated driver and certified mom of the group

— gets water for himself and for the others when they need it

— makes sure people aren't vomitting on themselves

— apologizes for the other members' actions (especially on ten and hendery's behalf 💀)

— kun: "i swear, they usually aren't like this......."

ten

— 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 drunk

— finds himself on a crowded dance floor against several other sweaty bodies

— flirts with anyone that shows interest in him

— makes out with random strangers

— has the most awful hangovers the next day

— ten: "not sure why drinking makes me whore out but here i am!!"

winwin

— emotional drunk

— he's just sitting in the corner with a blank stare

— reflects on his life decisions (he wonders if he would be happier if he had just stayed in china instead of joining sm)

— grunts when someone tries to make small talk with him

— winwin: "man i just wanna go home......"

xiaojun

— social drunk

— suddenly becomes a social butterfly when under the influence

— tries to make friends with everyone at the party

— befriends the party host's pet dog

— loud with no filter

— xiaojun: "gUys if you had to pick would you rather pee a grape or poo a pineapple?"

hendery

— crazy drunk that goes on side quests

— leaves the party and comes back 30 minutes later with a 24 pack of gatorade

— has everyone wondering how he managed to disappear and then reappear without anyone noticing

— kun: "hendery, did you drive to target?!? that is so reckless and irresponsible i can't believe-"

— hendery: "nah, i ubered there"

yangyang

— affectionate drunk

— giggles a lot

— gets really clingy and touchy with others

— cuddles with random people on the sofa

— has that really cute alcohol blush across his face (he denies it)

— yangyang: "what?? no my face isn't red, i feel just fine!!!"

[sherwees]

cw : obsession, manipulation, implications of domestic abuse and why does yangyang have a helicopter in his backyard?

side note : @ne0pearl and @teasteeper wanted me to drop this so here it is!!

side side note : yangyang beret?!

best friend yangyang that'll try to prove that he's better than your boyfriend by buying you all types of luxuries ranging from dolce&gabbana, louis vuitton and rolex. Something else that adorned your neck besides the 1200 dollar necklaces was the hickies that he would leave just so he could hear you struggle trying to explain that they were just bruises; your best lie was saying that it was an allergic reaction.

he'll spend hours on his free days, just scrolling through clothing catalogs (sometimes with his sidekick, hendery) just to pick out his gifts for you. hendery always found something that was perfect and he was a little too exact about your interests but it wasn't that much of a big deal.

when he would looked up at you with his arms around your waist, doe eyes and all in your new outfit in the dressing room. you giggle then grab at the price tag and let out an honestly dramatic gasp with your hand covering your mouth and all. “oh my gosh! 5,000 for a coat?!” you squealed but he immediately shushed you as he stood up with a smug look, eyebrow raised. “don't worry about it.. let your best friend treat you well~” his voice low, smooth like his hands lowering to your ass, giving it a light squeeze before twirling you around.

your boyfriend, winwin which happens to be one of his closest friends always questions him about his gifts makes the happiness crawl up his neck in tingles. his scrunched eyebrows, the hurt in his voice and the looks he gives him just riles him on. deeper into you, deeper into his craze.

yangyang that loves scaring the truth out of you. he loves being all dry in your texts after you maybe say the wrong thing or he catches you hanging out with your boyfriend. sometimes, he would corner you and bombard you with questions that barely have an answer, just like the first day you both started dating.

“do you really love me?” he randomly blurted one morning, you turn on your heel with a confused look at his more angered look. he only walked closer and your ass uncomfortably pressed against the counter but he didn't stop until he stood only a few inches away from you but repeated the question slower as if you didn't already get it. “yeah, as a friend..” you shrugged nonchalantly before attempt to turn back to your cereal but there was suddenly a resounding bang from the cabinet by your ear and you shrieked. “what the fuck!” you whined, covering your ear with hopes to lull the ringing. yangyang muttered, “naïve little whore” before turning you around with a swift tug at your shoulder,

“so all those times together meant nothing to you”

“but I have a boyfri–”

“if you truly loved sicheng, you would've took a sign and left the dressing room that day.” His words spewed like a firework explosion. You cupped your palm around his mouth with a gasp, shaking your head slowly with a quick “Nuh uh!”, you could tell that he was smiling behind your palm. He then licked it with a chuckle, your hand slamming against the counter in the process which elicited a hard grunt from you.

“You're so pretty when you're mad~” he said whilst circling his hand around your neck to grasp and squeeze your nape before heading in for a kiss.

he scared you though. sometimes, he would shove himself in the crane of your neck to whisper belitting words and lies about your relationship; that'll only make you overthink. his persuasion was so good to the point where he convinced you to make him your ‘first time’ because winwin was inexperienced and “wouldn't understand you like he did.”

sometimes, he would even refuse to apologize or convince you that a situation never happened. that day he snuck into your room in the middle of the night. never happened. when he grasped your neck and nearly suffocated you unconscious. was the past and he “changed”. he wanted your relationship to be perfect.

everytime you and winwin had a simple misunderstanding, he would be the first to run to you about what winwin said supposedly:

“He was like, ‘she's too whiny about everything and I just don't fucking understand her! I just wished she understood me more!’” He mocked winwin's emotional state then bellowed a laugh before continuing to blow on his noir nails. A slick, sick grin raised at the corners of his lips once he noticed that your lips was distorted in held back laughter, his dried hand grabbed your cheek caressing it with his tongue peaked from his plump lips.

“But you know I love you more right?”

but when it came up to you both having a misunderstanding, it was different. when he could roughly cradle your balled up figure on the couch, he attempted to coo at you but his tone was urgent,scratchy and whiny as his hands sporadically quaked, patting to find his phone throughout the many pockets of his baggy pants. the only thing that could make you stay at least what he thought would make you stay was buying you things; his bank account locked one day when he was in a raging fit and nearly spent 3 bands just for you to forgive him.

“Look!” he attempted to shove his phone in your face, the high brightness of his phone making your sensitive orbs strain more caused you to wince and shield your face. He mumbled a fast apology, turning down the brightness and scrolled through the pandora website with unsteady fingers.. “I'll buy you something– please forgive me? I didn't mean to hit you.. I'll never put my hands on you ever again..” he lied vowed with you, his voice shook as the tears caked at his waterline nearly overflowing.

“yangyang, just leave me–” you looked over to him with slight surprise when you saw his expression, he seemed unfamiliar because he was actually crying?

“NO!” he yelled, his voice rasp. His black nails digging into your back and left knee, his cries only become louder; you could tell his esophagus was giving out because he started to hiccup.

yangyang was like a child, a snotty three year old. if you didn't give him what he wanted, he would make a tantrum. when he would try to make it up to you, he would finally give you what you wanted. you stared up at the ceiling and to yangyang's bloodshot red eyes, his lips agape; sore and chapped as he grunted and moaned. his hand pressed against your shoulder, his free hand travels to your wrist and his breath was hot&gruff against the top of your limp hand until he laid a chaste kiss on it. “I'll always make it up to you, alright?” he opens your fingers with his thumb before rubbing your palm against his cheek, the warmth of him causing you to slightly smile. “there's my girl..” His toothy smile made it's appearance finally, his thrusts only quickened through your slick channel.

he threw his head back, his hands finding leverage from the bottom of his your shirt as the tandems of pleasure coursed through his veins rapidly. Your high was approaching, quick and heavy but to your luck, yangyang stilled inside of you already. His uncomfortably warm seed pumped into your hole at a steady rate, he manages to lower himself down to mark your jaw and any open area of tan skin he saw. I mean.. at least he was happy, right?

it's been a month since you and winwin uttered a word to each other. His contact was simply back to “Sicheng 🙂”, nothing further. yangyang insisted on removing the emoji or just blocking him, yangyang was like your parent now. he monitored your phone, always looking over your shoulder and got snappy when he was suspicious on your relationships with people.

through your moments of uncertainty, his friend sidekick hendery was always there for you. yangyang would always glare at your closeness or whenever you two thought you were alone. shame started to lay in yangyang's soul heavily, his mind was clouded with regret.

his members were practically scared of him now, xiaojun accidentally slipped that ten was talking to someone and xiaojun only huffed through his nose as ten walked off with his head low, when kun snapped at yangyang about how winwin started to stress himself out from the several opportunities he had in china; even some he volunteered for just so he could stay away from them.

I guess so.

his thumb mindlessly exited all the shopping websites that he had opened, he looked over to you and hendery in the kitchen; you laughing as he swiped off the whipped cream from your nose. is this how winwin felt? worthless, just sitting there as you just slipped through his fingers like jello until you melted into pieces.

[luvsjungmo]

・❥ yangyang bf headcanons.

　扬扬 & gn reader　 ⌣ 　fluff 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 Warnings - not proofread, pretty short, random ahh thoughts 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　 　A/n: 　first post, criticisms are welcome

bf! yang who enjoys teasing & playful banter with you

bf! yang even tho he enjoys teasing you would be do absolutely everything for you. Ties your shoes, draw you a bubble bath, ect

bf! yang who would actually try making you food once (it didn’t go well but it’s the thoughts that counts!)

bf! yang who spends his money and time picking out a gift hoping you’ll like it

bf! yang who gives you compliments everyday nonstop

bf! yang who values deep conversations, listen to your thoughts and feelings

bf! yang who would stare at you with heart eyes (he isn’t trying to be creepy, he’s just completely lovestruck)

bf! yang who would leave sweet notes or send messages whenever he would be out

bf! yang who would comfort and support you during the tough times

bf! yang who would write songs about you (king of hearts perhaps??)

bf! yang who respects your personal space, understanding that you need some alone time

bf! yang who supports you no matter, encouraging you to peruse your passion

bf! yang who loves styling you, going shopping with you

bf! yang who would stay up with you, stargazing, going for a drive

bf! yang who would whine whenever you’re not in his arms 24/7

also have a feeling he would be little spoon (most of the time but he would love falling asleep next to you, the feeling of having someone to hold on to)

[rjunswrld]

give you what you want.

yangyang x thick POC! reader

soft dom! yangyang, oral fixation, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, needy reader & yangyang (ofc), bratty reader, possessive yangyang

“more! wan’ more!” you gripped onto his hair as he pulled you down lower on his face feeling his mouth latch onto your cunt with his tongue flicking over your clit repeatedly, giving your ass such harsh slaps and making you whine loudly with your body shaking he couldn't help but admire. you were grinding down on his tongue reaching for your third orgasm already dismissing the overstimulation that filled your hypersensitive nub proceeding to have your way with his tongue— and the male below you let you use him for your liking.

you were spoiled by yangyang, so fucking spoiled. he could go on for hours with you using him like this, watching you enjoy yourself on him was all that he needed.

he gave you everything and anything, he made you want him so bad desperately getting whatever you wanted from him as he sat back watching you crumble all over him, knowing he was so good at what he does to please you he grew cocky from it-you relied on yangyang to make you cum whenever and wherever as many times as you wanted, he'd happily give in granting all your wishes. he liked it this way he wanted to be wanted by you and only you- he worshiped you only aiming to please you in any way he possibly could. yangyang does so much for you, he just wants to be your only one.

he's a giver, a huge giver when it came to you and it was only in his nature- nothing made him happier than seeing you happy especially when he is the one who gave that to you, the one who made you feel at your best.

"come on baby, cum for me.."

his voice was muffled, vibrating against you feeling the warmth of his breath radiating on your cunt as he attached his lips around your engorged bud sucking onto it and letting his tongue lick you head on resulting you to shake uncontrollably with squeals and blabber falling past your lips, his tongue never coming to a halt flicking over you repeatedly sending those delicious shockwaves through your body that you couldn't control. your chest heaving as he gripped tightly on your thighs that were placed beside his head keeping you down on him, slapping them occasionally before squeezing onto them. "w-wanna cum yangyang! make me cum!" you panted feeling him smirk against you as he eyed you from under, loving the view that only he was able to see from you.

so cum worthy he could feel his dick aching in his sweats but he refused to be distracted by his needs; you came first no matter how long it took it was his rule and what he believed in regardless. he proceeded to attack your clit with breathless moans of profanities coming from you, gripping onto your boob with your free hand as you threw your head back in such satisfaction of your boyfriend pleasing you so perfectly.

"please please just like that-" feverishly, feeling your thighs tremble around his head with his hands gliding up the sides of your shimmering body slowly as he focused on your face that contorted into a blissful and pleasurable expression, you looked so fucking sexy like this. he reached for your hand that groped over your boob, interlocking them together as you began rocking your hips over him. his nose brushing against your clit repeatedly making you clench around nothing, shivering with squeals of his name coming from you. moaning towards the ceiling with your head thrown back increasing your pace as he rested his tongue against you to ride making such a mess on him.

"m’cumming!"

you groaned feeling yourself erupt against his wet muscle, clenching and unclenching repeatedly as your hips twitched with loud moans and whines filling in for the decreasing noise of the bed squeaking slightly. you rode out your climax completely fucked out and too sensitive to have another you removed yourself from around his head to lay down next to the male whose face glistened with your aftermath of intense orgasms back to back.. he loved being such a mess because of you.

"aw, baby you're done already?"

"t-tired.."

you were dazed and too worn out to even think of another orgasm. your light panting and eyes fighting to stay open you stared up at the ceiling letting the cool air cool you down blowing directly on the sweat laying against your hairline. you felt so good and completely on cloud9 you were sure you were gonna get a good night's rest tonight, but since you had your turn.. it's only fair for yangyang to have a turn right?

"i'll take care of you, baby.. let me take care of you.."

he whispered gripping your jaw to place a sloppy wet kiss on your lips that you immediately accepted, tasting yourself on him as his tongue swirled around yours with your hand tangled in his disheveled hair to bring him closer to you. he positioned himself between your legs feeling your body pressed up against his he reached for your thigh, hooking it around his waist as he began grinding down his clothed cock over your sensitive cunt that continued to leak for him. "i'll do all the work, you just lay there and look pretty okay?" he smirked as you nodded tiredly with a smile creeping up on your flustered face. you closed your eyes as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before rising from your embrace to undo his sweats, and with the lack of underwear, he didn't have to undress himself any further.

he spread your legs for him making you look up at the male who was once under you, stroking his cock as he bit his lip checking you out slowly taking in your beauty as your eyes glistened at him swearing he saw sparkles at the locked eye contact you both shared.

he bit his lip as he aligned himself with your hole by core memory with his eyes refusing to leave yours, rubbing his leaking tip along your wetness sharing and mixing your essence making you whimper softly at the sensitivity your cunt was filled with. "shh, baby i got you.." you nodded sheepishly as he pushed himself into your hole sucking him inside he couldn't help but moan at the warmth of you, being sucked deeper and deeper into you he watched himself disappear with the squelching sound of your pussy eating him up.

"mm always feel so good.." he grunted pushing the rest of himself in until he bottomed out, feeling your hole flutter around him letting little noises escape you as he leaned down kissing your jaw whilst rolling his hips and feeling his dick move deeper into you. you moaned feeling his tongue run along your neck up to your ear, running over the many piercings you couldn't help but shudder. "fuck me already"

you whined out feeling him chuckle into your neck, pulling away to push one of your thighs up against your body before thrusting into you. you gripped onto the sheets feeling him thrust in and out of you picking up the pace little by little, moaning out at how good he made you feel.

"anything for you lovely"

he threw your leg over his shoulder gripping onto your hips to meet his thrust leaving you a breathless mess, tiddies bouncing at every harsh movement with incoherent blabbering coming from you. he reached to rub your clit feeling your body fall into that same bottomless pit of pleasure, clenching onto him keeping him locked inside to use him till you came, he couldn't help but whimper fucking into you at an animalistic pace.

"pussy all fucking mine"

he was on edge already feeling his orgasm creep up on him, after the long wait of dying to be inside of you he couldn't help it that he was so close to cumming already, with no thoughts in mind.

"please, please! wanna cum!" you whined feeling his thumb rub around your clit faster with his thrusts keeping an unbelievable pace driving you completely crazy. drilling his dick into you, rearranging your guts making you cry out as you felt yourself come undone on his cock, crying and panting heavily as he knocked the air out of your lungs.

"fuck yeah baby" he panted keeping his harsh grip on your thighs now chasing his high.

"gonna give all of me to you, gonna fill you up so g-good-" with a few harsh thrusts, he felt himself cumming deep into you, slamming his hips slowly into you letting out a long dragged out 'fuck' with his eyes rolled in the back of his head, his brows furrowed, and mouth parted.. he felt so fucking good because of you. all because of you.

"full.."

you whined out feeling yourself grow weaker and weaker, with no use in fighting sleep as he sighed in pure relaxation pulling out slowly keeping his eyes glued to your abused cunt- this was his favorite part, the part where he got to watch his nut slip out of you. gushing out only to slip down onto the mattress, your hole clenching trying to keep him inside he couldn't help but moan at how delicious your pretty pussy looked right now-a drooling sight to say the least.

“my pretty baby."

⭐︎

[shmooooo]

pretty sure you got this one before but idc because I'm one of your besties anyway and I deserve and you love me ♡

WayV as doms ?? <3

have fun baby <3 ;)

-🌹

wayv as doms

pairing: wayv x gn!reader

genre: smut

warnings: mentions of the title "daddy", toys, brat taming, spanking, punishment, denial, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia

word count: 497

notes: some of these are a little short, sorry ^^ it's really extremely ironic that rose and i have literally been writing wayv filth in our free time for like two years now and i still struggled with putting my thoughts into words lol

tagging: @10velyroses

not beta read, we die like men

~~~~~~

Kun

Soft dom. While I'm not a big fan of the title "Daddy", he's that kind of dom. He's soft for you but strict when it comes to following his rules. Many of them are put in place for your well-being because he loves you and knows you can't take care of yourself. But enough of them are also the typical rules meant to tease you and make you life hard (iykyk). If you break them, he will absolutely tell you how disappointed he is and that he hopes you'll do better next time.

Ten

Dom. The teasing kind. sometimes he’ll give you the impression you’re in control only to flip the switch on you really fast. Also a kinky mf and toy enthusiast - he could probably open a shop at this point, you can find everything in his ✨designated drawer✨. He’s also a bit of a sadist and definitely loves to make you work for your pleasure. And while he’s also adamant about you following rules, he mostly does it because he gets a kick out of taming you when you’re being a brat.

Sicheng (Winwin)

Hard dom. Do not mess with him, he will fuck you up - just not necessarily the way you like. Also a brat tamer but less teasing about it than Ten and more on the meaner side (with consent ofc). Enjoys fucking the brat out of you. He’s the type to make you count while spanking you and start over until you make it to the end unless you literally safeword him. 

Dejun (Xiaojun)

Hard dom. Also very teasing but in a meaner way than Ten in that he aims to get you to act up so much that he can rail you three ways into next week. Well, or not rail you at all and instead deny you "until you learn your lesson" (🙄). He’s also a clown though so lighthearted sex is a thing. But when you’re doing scenes, he’s rough. Can also be really mean and degrading when he’s in a headspace (or when you acted like a brat).

Hendery

Dom. Tease. Literally so. much. teasing. A sweetheart so he loves pampering you but he’s also a clown like Dejun so prepare. He’s less rough and mean during scenes though but don’t underestimate him, he will make you behave for him and if necessary, he’ll show you that you shouldn’t mess with him.

Yangyang

Hard dom. This man is a raging switch lbr but when he doms, he doms. He’s an absolute tease and honestly a brat even when he doms. He’s just making your life hard honestly. Like he’ll just do the opposite of what you want because he can. I don’t care how much you want to be an obedient sub, he’ll bring out the brat in anyone. Which is of course exactly what he wants because now he gets to play the disappointed dom card and edge and overstimulate you as punishment until you’re crying.

[wontune]

✿ yangyang ( nct wayv ) lockscreens !

[minhyeong]

WAYV + SIMPLE ACTS OF LOVE !

[ kun ] 

reassuringly squeezes your hand when he notices you look stressed or overwhelmed

drops absolutely everything to pick you up if you call him

brings a blanket and tucks you in properly when you accidentally fall asleep on the couch

wakes up early to pack your lunch for you just so you can sleep for an extra ten minutes

reminds you to be careful for everything no matter how simple the task is

cradles the back of your neck and gives you forehead kisses as greetings instead of saying hi or bye

lets you plant your freezing cold hands and feet on his body so you can steal some of his warmth even though he's internally screaming

[ ten ] 

shares all his secrets and intrusive thoughts with you, even if it means being vulnerable

won't hang up until you say "i love you" back to him after every phone call (gives you a glare if it's a video call)

gets cute aggression and giggles and pinches your cheeks when he finds you cute

keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and even decorated it with stickers

his gaze sometimes falls onto your lips when you're speaking

playfully bites your shoulder when he gives you back hugs

closes the physical gap between you no matter where he is and inches closer to you whether he's seated or standing

[ winwin ] 

agrees to use rock-paper-scissors to make decisions with you but strategically waits a few extra milliseconds before he shows his move just so you can have your way

opens all the doors for you

lets you steal his drink after you're done with yours

subconsciously smiles when someone mentions you and he doesn't even realize it until people are calling him whipped

remembers that one time you said he looked really good in a certain jacket and now reaches for that jacket more often

always adjusts his pace to match yours when walking together

tells you about his future plans and includes you in all of them

[ xiaojun ] 

genuinely enjoys doing mundane chores with you like washing the dishes in comfortable silence

hums and tenderly pats your back when you can't fall asleep

intensely returns your stare in staring contests and boldly steps forward until you're backed up against a wall with no escape

always takes the middle seat next to a stranger so you won't have to

protectively pulls you to the inside of the sidewalk away from the street and moving traffic

has tunnel vision when you walk into the room and forgets about everyone else

creates an entire folder dedicated to just photos of you on his phone

[ hendery ] 

leans into your palm when you touch his cheeks and then jokingly tries to bite your hand

pokes your waist incessantly to get your attention

sends you every funny video he comes across and just blows up your notifications while you're away from your phone

tells you to call him when you get back if he can't accompany you and frantically calls you first if he doesn't hear from you after a bit

laughs at all your jokes even if they're bad

stays up on special occasions folding origami flowers for you so you can keep them forever

freaks out when he sees even the smallest cut on you and threatens to fight that paper that cut your finger

[ yangyang ]

playfully teases you but gets super defensive if anyone else tries to do it

remembers something you eyed while window shopping together and surprises you with it at some point

encourages and helps you get out of your comfort zone but knows when he shouldn't push you

stops others from interrupting you when you're speaking

says he can read your palms and points at some random line saying that it indicates you'll have to marry him in the future with a cheeky grin

pinky promises you everything and actually keeps them

places kisses on your scars when you feel insecure

[gimmenctar]

começou como brincadeira, uma vez você e yangyang flertaram pra zoar o kun, que estava todo se querendo pra cima de uma desconhecida super descolada na noitada. os flertes falsos viraram rotina até que, numa virada de chave, tornaram-se bem verdadeiros.

yangyang passou a te olhar com outros olhos muito rápido, fazendo questão de investir no papo que você devolvia tão bem. não demorou muito até que ficassem a primeira vez. o beijo lentinho na varanda do apartamento do ten não passou despercebido por ninguém. a sorte é que o vidro impediu os outros de escutarem os seus suspiros altos, yangyang engoliu todos eles sem pena, nem te deu chance de parar pra respirar.

daí pra frente só ficou pior. foram descobrindo como agradar um ao outro, mesmo que só na pegação. mas yangyang não podia mentir, estava doido pra ir além. você o beijava bem demais e o provocava além da conta pra que ele não imaginasse a putaria que seriam capazes de fazer juntos.

outra vez, escondidos num canto qualquer de uma festa, yangyang te mantém firme contra a parede enquanto marca seu pescoço com os beijos molhados. normalmente, você já teria voltado pra ficar perto dos amigos, mas hoje tem algo diferente, hoje você precisa de mais, não dá pra segurar.

yangyang se assusta quando você o arrasta pra fora da casa lotada até o próprio carro. sem questionar nada, ele se senta no banco de trás, já você, se senta no colo dele e o beija de novo, mas agora é quase feroz. a sua calcinha encharcada roça na ereção dele bem devagar. a cabecinha do pau está bem alinhada com seu clitóris, e vocês viram uma bagunça arfante.

“deixa eu chegar essa calcinha pro lado.” ele diz com a respiração entrecortada. está prestes a gozar dentro da calça por causa das suas reboladas.

vocês tiram todos os panos que atrapalham o contato da pele. o pau dele desliza pelo seus sucos, nos seus lábios você sente cada veia pulsante do membro duro e todo melado.

“yang, porra.”

encostando as costas entre os bancos da frente, você joga a cabeça pra trás. sua boceta encharca o colo de yangyang, que não consegue se concentrar em nada a não ser onde suas intimidades se esfregam com tanto afinco.

ele aproveita sua posição pra descansar a cabeça entre seus peitos, abaixando sua blusa pra expor seus seios e colocar um deles na boca. ele precisa focar em outra coisa se quer gozar depois de você. chupa seus mamilos com fome, usando os dentes pra arranhar de levinho.

mesmo que os vidros fossem escuros, qualquer um que passasse pelo carro saberia o que se passa ali dentro. os sons molhados, os movimentos, os pedidos dengosos, tudo sinal da carência e do desejo que não puderam mais ser adiados.

“ah, caralho!” você exclama ao sentir o ápice se aproximando. yangyang, também desesperado, joga os quadris pra cima e encontra seu ritmo bagunçado a fim de desfazer o nó do seu ventre.

seus olhos reviram e você se desfaz, melando o pau latejante de liu. ele não aguenta sentir os seus nervinhos pulsando nele, e também goza, lambuzando ainda mais as roupas. estão completamente arruinados.

n/a: vcs gostam desse formato? eu gosto de ler coisinhas assim de vez em quando.

[nominzn]

... xiaohenyang se apx pela loba !!

xiaohenyang x leitora, pedido nessa ask aqui. parte 1/2 (gege line soon)

❤️‍🔥🏹 !! wayv 5th mini album, give me that 03/06 !! ❤️‍🔥🏹

xiaojun

hendery

yangyang

tô amando a qtd de wayv crescendo! love wayv fuck sm❤️‍🔥🏹

[suhnshinehaos]

treacherous (finale !)

...a spin-off to crush culture ! synopsis : 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. pairing : liu yangyang x gn!reader genre/s : university au, student council + band au, fluff, angst, humor

act three, part fifteen : i choose you

previous  ➤  act three, part fourteen treacherous  ➤  masterlist 

song rec : i choose you by adam melchor

a/n. apologies it's a long one, but it is the finale sooooo

from reese, with so much love <3

oh wow... what a journey this has been. i can't believe this was supposed to be a short little spinoff to crush culture, at the time i did not expect it to grow into something this huge. it has been such a pleasure to write gy and yy's growth, both as individuals and with regard to their relationship. it's going to be tough to no longer write for them, i'm going to miss them a lot. not just gy3 but the band and the council too, and the little moments of relief that they provide.

thank you for joining me on this rollercoaster ride. i would love to know what you think, especially now that this series has ended. it's almost 10 pm here and i'm still battling a little cold, but i was too excited to wait until tomorrow to post hehe. hope you're all doing well and taking care <3 until the next one, my dear readers.

[hugs2doie]

CAN YEW DO TEXTING YANGYANG ABT BIS ORGASM DONOR HOODIE.. can’t belegen he wore that man..

asking yangyang about the hoodie ..

YAWP!!!

me roo it was shocking i had expwriencws deja vu

[innocentvenus]

ཐི♡ཋྀ Kinktober Day 2

includes - female reader! blindfolding, slight hint to a threesome, lots of dirty talk, it’s not used but I did write this, thinking that the safe word is in place and can be used at any time. I repeat it is not used at all but it was in place. Please create safe words.

YangYang leans over to hold your face in hand. His stomach laying on top of your back, his cock hitting the deepest part of you. “Fuck baby I love seeing your face but you become so much more sensitive with this over your eyes.” He grunts pushing his cock deeper.

He pushes backwards and just wraps his hands around your waist. He traces his hands everywhere, you shudder not knowing where his hands will go next.

He moves his hands down to your tits and pulls at your nipples, you whimper at the pain yet pleasure. He traces his hands down to your clit and gently teases it before moving down the slit and tracing where his cock stretches you out.

“You never know what I would do next. Maybe I’ll slip out of this gorgeous pussy, maybe I’ll continue to rub at that swollen clit that’s desperate for attention. Maybe I’ll continue to tug at your nipples.” Yangyang mumbles, seeming like he’s giving himself ideas.

You shudder again when you realize that he could do anything and you wouldn’t realize until he’s doing it. “I could go grab ice and push it against this baby.” He says circling back to your clit. “I’m gonna cum.” You mewl out. “Already? I’ve barely done anything? Does being blindfolded make you come hard?”

You nod your head fast and he takes that answer and rubs your clit just the way he knows will make you cum. “Ohh baby, we’ve got to do this more often. Maybe I’ll convince some of the guys to join in so you never know who’s the one fucking this sweet pussy.”