#yangyang: whats crack | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fadedncity · 1 year ago

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save a horse, ride a cowboy

wc: 3.3k

pairing: haechan x fem!reader

cw: smut, bf!haechan, non idol au, alcohol consumption, switch!haechan, switch!reader, praising, teasing, oral sex (receiving), fingering, brief sensory deprivation, riding/cowgirl, dirty talk, pet names, marking, creampie, unprotected sex, small mention of other idols, small mention of aftercare

song inspo: tyrant, sweet ★ honey ★ buckiin’, and riiverdance by beyoncé

a/n: i've been listening to cowboy carter nonstop ever since it dropped, gaining a shit ton of inspiration lmao. happy reading! 🤠

You tap your boot along to the beat of the song, creating a soft thud on the wooden planks below you. The bar hums with activity, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and sawdust mixed with the aroma of sizzling food and spilled beer.

Lanterns flicker overhead, casting dancing shadows across the room as patrons swirled around the wooden dance floor, their boots drumming out rhythms as they engaged in lively line dancing, their laughter mingling with the twang of guitars and the thump of the bass.

"Anytime today, Hyuck," you sigh, resting your chin on the end of your cue stick while you wait for Haechan to make his move.

"I'm thinking," Haechan says, his hand on his hip as he surveys the pool table. The warm glow of overhead lights illuminates the green-felt surface of the pool table you've been occupying for the better part of an hour.

Haechan's gaze is intense, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he calculates each shot. His fingers trace the edge of his cue stick, the wood worn smooth from years of use. Haechan leans over the table, his movements fluid as he lines up his shot.

The sharp crack of the cue ball fills the air as he strikes, the 5 ball nearly making it into the pocket but hitting the edge of the table instead, causing Haechan to curse under his breath.

You smirk, rounding the table to Haechan's side, confidence oozing from your pores, "Excuse me," you lean over the table.

You eye the remaining balls with a grin, your mind already calculating the perfect angle for your next shot. With a smooth stroke, you send both the 11 and 8 balls careening into the corner pocket, sealing your victory.

"That makes it what now, 3-1," you tease, savoring the taste of triumph.

Haechan hadn't really been paying attention to your game-winning strike, too distracted by you leaning over in front of him, especially in this outfit.

"You know, maybe if you weren't too busy staring at my ass, you'd have a fair chance at winning."

"Not my fault your ass looks amazing in these pants," Haechan smirks, stepping forward and pressing his body flush against yours.

The scent of whiskey and cologne clouds your senses as you refuse to back down and look away even under the immense weight of his heavy stare.

"Hey—Oh I'm definitely interrupting something," Michelle said, breaking the tension between the two of you.

"Just me running Hyuck's pockets dry," You break the eye contact, looking over at your friend.

"So nothing new then," Michelle waves off, "Well Yangyang lost in darts, so the next round's on him," she informs you both.

"Say less," You slip from between Haechan and the pool table.

Haechan closely follows behind you as you join your friends gathered around the table.

"To victory and defeat," Renjun teases Yangyang, causing the younger to flip him off as he downed the shot.

"To victory and defeat!" the group echoed, clinking their glasses together before tossing back the fiery liquid and slamming them down on the table.

"So," You wince, letting the slight burn of the alcohol pass, "Wanna go another round?" you ask Haechan.

"So you can take more of my money? No thank you," he says, setting his glass down beside yours.

"Booo you're no fun," you scoff.

Haechan's lips curled into a sly grin, "How about something that gives a more fair chance of either of us winning."

"Like...?"

Haechan's eyes scanned the room before landing on the rowdy patrons lined up for their turn on the mechanical bull, its metal frame gleaming under the dim lights. Cheers and laughter erupted as riders attempted to last longer than the previous one, their determination matched only by the wild gyrations of the mechanical contraption.

"The mechanical bull."

You accept the challenge with a smirk, eager to prove your skills once again.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. "And why would I lose?" With a playful tug, you snatched Haechan's hat from his head and plopped it on your own.

Haechan chuckles, his gaze trailing after the hat. "Because, sweetheart, if you've forgotten, you're about as graceful as a newborn calf," he says.

A grin spreads across your face as you adjust the hat, determined to prove him wrong. "Oh, baby, don't be so sure you know everthing. I've got moves you've yet to see," you counter, your competitive spirit ignited.

"You sure this hat isn't too small for your big head?" Haechan teases, flicking the brim of the hat on your head.

"Oh I'm sure. Unless you're scared to prove me right."

"I just don't want your ego to be bruised when you're proven wrong," Haechan says.

"Okay, how much you wanna bet?" you ask.

"How about we make this a little more interesting?" he proposes, his tone suggestive.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. "And what's more interesting than money?" you inquire, a mischievous smile on your lips.

"If you win, I'll go home with you tonight and we can do whatever you want," he leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, "If I win, you'll come over to mine, and I get to do whatever I want to you," he says.

A chill runs down your spine as Haechan speaks these words in your ear. You swallow hard, trying not to make it evident how excited you are by his words.

"You're on, Hyuck."

"May the best rider win," he holds out his hand for you to shake.

As Haechan rose from his seat, a determined glint in his eyes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. He ventured toward the mechanical beast, his confident stride drawing the attention of both you and your friends. With a smirk, you leaned over to the rest of the table, informing them of the bet you had made with Haechan, leaving out a few of the more intimate details to spare their ears.

"How long do you think he'll last?" Dosie questions as she sat up in her seat to get a better view.

Mark turns in his spot, his eyes trained on Haechan as he mounts the mechanical bull. "I'll give him 10, maybe 15 seconds," he wagers, a playful grin spreading across his face.

As the mechanical bull bucked and swayed, Haechan surprised everyone by lasting longer than 15 seconds, though he was ultimately thrown off before reaching the 20-second mark, much to Yuta's amusement as he operated the machine.

"Have fun trying to beat that, babe," Haechan calls out confidently as he approaches you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Have fun watching me," you wink as you stand to your feet, accepting the challenge laid before you.

Haechan switches places with you, his gaze fixated on your swaying hips as you walk away from the table. He watches you pass the pen, heading toward the DJ's booth where Johnny stands, whispering something in his ear. You exchange a knowing smile with Haechan from across the bar, a silent understanding passing between you as you prepare to take on the challenge.

As the music changes, signaling the start of your ride, you mount the mechanical bull with ease, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Once you have your balance, you let go of the reins and let the beat of the music flow through your body, trusting your hips to follow the movements of the machine to keep you upright.

Haechan watches you intently as you effortlessly command the bull, practically hypnotizing him as your hips move in sync with the music, and you make it look like the easiest thing ever.

"Tyrant every time I ride it, every time I ride it. Make it look so good-" The lyrics of the song ring out in Haechan's ears as he's unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Haechan's throat feels dry and can feel his cock stirring in his pants, watching you. His mind races, quickly disregarding any repercussions of the bet, wanting to take you home as the desire to have him be the one you're on top of grows with each whine of your waist.

The intensity of the ride increases, and you grab onto your hat, ensuring it stays firmly in place as you continue to ride with no hands, determined to prove a point to Haechan, all the while completely unaware of the turmoil you're subjecting him to.

But as your legs began to tire, you knew it was time to gracefully dismount the bull, bouncing on the airy cushion below before being helped up by Yuta.

"And we have a new record setter!" Johnny announces, causing the bar to erupt into cheers, the crowd raising their drinks in salute.

"Hey, you have a bit of drool, just right there," Kelcee teases Haechan as he still hasn't picked up his jaw.

Returning to the table victorious, you share a triumphant smile with Haechan, "This now makes it 4-1," you declare, downing the free shot Taeyong had brought to your table.

"We're leaving now," Haechan says.

"Why?" you ask.

"Cause I almost just came in my pants," he admits.

. . .

The entry to your house was heated, as Haechan couldn't wait another second after you got the key in the door. His hands were all over you, desperate to get your clothes off as you both almost trip over your feet, kicking off your boots.

"You're so impatient, baby. What's everyone gonna think of us just leaving so abruptly?" you ask.

"I don't give a fuck," Haechan reaches for your waist, pulling you close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin, "I need you now." he pants against your lips.

You circle your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Haechan's hands on your hips travel lower, cupping your ass through your leather pants, making you groan into his mouth.

He grabs the back of your thighs, hoisting you into the air, making you yelp in surprise when you feel the ground no longer beneath your feet.

Haechan blindly navigates through your house, bringing you both to the bedroom, slightly knocking into pieces of furniture on the way there. You hop out of his arms when he nears the bed and push him down onto the mattress.

Sitting back on his hands, Haechan watches as you begin to undo the strings of your top, revealing the tops of your breasts.

You can tell he's already growing impatient, nibbling on his bottom lip and bouncing his leg, becoming more fidgety.

"Would you like to do the honors?" you drop your arms to your sides, and without missing a beat, Haechan drops to his knees in front of you. He swiftly undoes your belt, flinging somewhere in the room before making quick work of your pants, pulling the leather down your legs, allowing you to step out of them.

You softly run your fingers through Haechan's hair as he begins kissing his way up your legs. His hands snake up the sides of your legs, pulling you closer as he reaches the apex of your thigh.

"Can I?" he asks, looking up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"Go ahead, my love," you nod at him.

Haechan doesn't break eye contact as he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, slowly dragging them down your legs. He licks his lips, circling an arm around one of your thighs, pulling you closer to his face.

You sensually hum, letting your head fall back as Haechan's tongue laps at your folds. His eyes flick up to your face, watching as you lose yourself and begin rocking your hips against his mouth.

"Mhm, that's it, baby," you moan.

Haechan smirks before he catches your clit between his lips, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Hyuck," you gasp, roughly tugging at his roots.

You mewl, feeling your knees becoming weak. But Haechan holding your hips helps you stay upright. He starts shifting in his place on the floor, his cock straining against his pants as he eats you out. Your eyes roll back, the warmth blooming in your lower stomach. Haechan shoves his face further between your legs, his tongue working tirelessly against your pulsing clit.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," you tell him.

A muffled whimper can be heard from the man before you, desperate to taste all of you. Haechan's fingers reach your entrance, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.

"Yes, yes, right there," you sigh.

Haechan groans when you roughly pull on his hair, tugging his head back. Your eyes meet your boyfriend's wide, lustful ones, seeing the lower half of his face glistening with your juices in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

You grab the collar of his shirt, getting him to stand to his full height, and crash your lips into his. You swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips, tasting yourself when you slip your tongue into his mouth.

You begin unbuttoning his shirt as he undoes the buckle of his belt, letting it clunk to the floor, before kicking off his pants along with his underwear.

With the strings of your vest untied, Haechan pushes the leather off your shoulders, finally getting you fully undressed as he pulls you down onto the bed with him, seating you in his lap.

A soft groan slips from Haechan's lips when you roll your hips into his, and you feel his cock growing more and more erect with each gyration of your hips. You trail kisses down his neck, softly sinking your teeth into his skin.

You push Haechan back onto the pillows, brushing your hair out of the way as it falls into his face.

"So," you start as you reach over to your nightstand, "Remember the part when you said if I win, we get to do whatever I want," you remind him, revealing the blindfold in your hand.

"Oh god," Haechan rolls his eyes.

"What, you said you trust me," you sit back with a pout.

"I do," Haechan sits up, hugging you closer, "I just hate the idea of not being able to see you," now he has a pout on his face, "I love nothing more than watching your face completely melt with bliss as I make you cum on my cock," his fingers dig into your skin, "But of course for you, my love, I'll do anything."

"We don't have t-"

"I want to. Just let me look at you a little longer first," Haechan tucks your hair behind your ear, admiring your features.

You press a kiss to his lips, "Alright, pretty boy," you tie the scarf behind his head, making sure not to get his hair caught in the knot. "You ready?"

"Do your worst," he says with a snarky grin, laying back with his hands behind his head.

"Okay," You lined his cock up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto his length, "Just relax for me, babe."

"Fuck," Haechan draws out, reveling in the feeling of you wrapped around him.

"God, you fill me up so good, Hyuck," you begin to rock your hips.

His hands reach out for you but he stops himself. "Can I touch you?"

"Hmm, not yet," you say, "Just sit there and take it like a good boy," you kiss the corner of his mouth.

Haechan whimpers and bucks his hips up into yours, balling his fists to restrain himself. You flatten your feet on the bed, giving yourself more leverage. Each time you lower yourself, you feel the tip of his cock reaching the deepest parts of you.

Haechan tries to keep himself from moving too much but fails miserably, too drunk off the feeling of your warm, wet walls, hugging his length with a vice grip.

"Please—fuck—please, you feel so fucking good," he squirms beneath you, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Yeah, is this what you wanted?" you let your knees fall on either side of his waist, slowing down your movements, "Couldn't stop yourself from hoping I'd ride you as well as that mechanical bull, huh, pretty boy?"

His breath hitches in his throat, "Mhm..."

"Maybe you knew you'd lose, and knew you'd get exactly what you wanted anyway."

Haechan laughs, "It may have crossed my mind."

You pull the blindfold from over his eyes, and Haechan blinks his vision into focus, staring up at you.

"God, you got me so fucking weak," Haechan sighs, bringing a smile to your face.

"Come here," you jut your chin toward him.

Haechan sits up, wrapping his arms around and crashing his lips into yours. You tangle your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. Haechan's lips muffle your moans, holding your hips and directing your movements.

"Fuck, I wanna cum so bad," he says.

"What makes you think you deserve to?" you tease.

Mischief gleams in your boyfriend's eyes as he holds your waist, bringing you both closer to the edge of the bed. He grabs your ankles, directing your feet to flatten on the bed on either side of him. With the extra leverage, you're able to move more fluidly and curl your arm around Haechan's neck as you ride him.

"Oh my god, hyuck, you feel so fucking good," you whine.

"That's right, sweetheart," he takes hold of your waist, slamming his cock up into you, "Take it like it's yours," he grunts.

You cry out, throwing your head back as Haechan can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies meet, too entranced with the way your sopping heat swallows his cock.

"I feel so close," you say.

"Yeah?" he smirks. He sneaks his hand between your bodies, and a moan rips from your throat as he circles your clit with his thumb.

"Please, Hyuck, oh my god!" your fingernails dig into his shoulder, causing him to his at the temporary pain. "I want you to cum with me."

"Oh I'm right there with you, princess," his voice drops an octave, "Just focus on how good it feels. How much I fill you up over and over again. How your pretty little pussy takes me so well."

"Please, baby, m'close," you slur.

"That's it, sweetheart, yeah," Haechan's jaw clenched, feeling how tight you are right now, "Let me have it all."

Your thighs tremble, and the muscles in your lower stomach contract as you feel the knot inside you snap. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and your vision goes black. You slump against Haechan's chest as his hips continue fucking up into you, your orgasm sending him into his own.

"Fuck," Haechan buries his cock inside you, letting his seed decorate your inner walls.

"Oh my god," was all you could say as you wrapped your arms around Haechan, trying to catch your breath.

Haechan tucks his head into the crook of your neck and rubs his hand up and down your back. Soft kisses against the side of your throat bring you out of your haze, and you lift your head to meet Haechan's eyes.

"That was…"

"Yeah, it was," you both laugh.

"Are you alright?" he asks, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs.

"Yeah, I'm just already feeling it in my legs," you tell him, hissing from the discomfort in your limbs.

You attempt to stand, almost falling to the floor if it weren't for Haechan grabbing your waist and seating you back on the bed.

"How about you stay here, and I get you cleaned up. I have a feeling you're gonna be having some difficulty getting around for the next few days," Haechan chuckles.

"It was totally worth it," you reply.

a/n: i feel like it’s been so long since i’ve put something out and im so sorry for that 😣 but i’ve missed y’all and i’ve missed writing. i can’t promise my next story will be out soon but i’ll definitely be putting some more stuff out later on in the year. i love you all and thank you for reading <33 feedback is appreciated!!

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leejenowrld · 28 days ago

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my love letter for ‘back to you’ and to all of you

it’s been two days since i posted the final chapter of back to you, and i still don’t think there are words big enough for what this feels like. maybe there never will be. i’ve been sitting with it, letting it echo in the quiet spaces, feeling every laugh, every scar, every stolen sunrise this story gave me. i’m emotional, i’ll be honest. my eyes sting every time i think about these characters, this universe, and the way you all held it with me. it feels impossible to say goodbye, so i won’t. i can’t. this was never meant to be a farewell.

writing this story was never gentle. it was never easy. it was born from everything i never said, everything i was too afraid to feel out loud. every single word is a piece of my heart, sometimes splintered, sometimes sewn back together. i didn’t plan for the pain to go so deep, or for the joy to bloom so bright. i didn’t know mark and areum’s loss would shatter me as i wrote it, or that healing would look the way it did, broken, slow, then suddenly full of light again. i didn’t expect the weight of taeyong’s death to ripple out the way it did, or that the story would linger so long in the ache of four years lost between jeno and y/n, the stretch of silence and distance that almost became forever. i didn’t foresee taesun’s brief, beautiful life breaking me open on the page, or how writing those tiny hands and bright hopes would change what i thought grief could hold. if you wept, i wept first. if you felt seen, it’s because i wrote until i saw myself in every crack, across every long night, every family dinner, every fight and forgiveness and trembling reunion, every goodbye that became a second chance. every character, every heartbreak, every moment of joy, i lived it all alongside you.

please, take this series gently, let it move through you slow and soft, and let it be a kindness to yourself. this world is heavy with all the truths i never wanted to leave unsaid, full of every secret and every quiet hope i tucked into its corners. it’s the gentle closing of so many arcs, and the windows thrown open for whatever your own story holds next. these characters are as real to me as anyone i’ve ever known; they changed me, and i hope in some small way they change you too. more than anything, i hope back to you becomes a place of comfort, a story you can return to on any night you need softness, a universe that welcomes you home for as many rereads as you ever want. let it be your safe place, always.

the universe outgrew me. it became a wild garden i just tried to keep up with, a universe too alive to control. what started as a single story spun into a constellation, families tangled, lovers lost and found, betrayals forgiven and not, and second chances blooming where nothing else would grow. if you find loose threads, if you still have questions, good. the ask box is open for a reason. please, fill it. ask about the ones who slipped between the lines, nahyun and her haunted legacy, the cold shadow of her father, jihyo’s quiet courage, how the babies love and how they receive love, yangyang’s mystery and the love that almost slipped through his fingers. i want every question, every theory, every ache. this world isn’t done growing, not even now.

this universe has become so much more than a story. it’s a home. every time you reread, every time you think about the characters that are so adored and loved, please keep the story alive. please, don’t let it end. keep coming back, even if i’m posting new things, even if years pass and the world feels different. back to you will always be here, exland, infinite and welcoming, waiting for you to find your way home. and please believe me when i say: this is not goodbye. i refuse to close the door on this world. message me, comment, reblog, send asks, tell me what you’re feeling every time you reread, what you’re wondering, what you want to see. reread, fall in love again, help me keep every heartbeat alive. if you keep loving it, it will never die. even if you don’t reread and curiosity gets the best of you, you know where my inbox is !!!

to every single character—this is my love letter to you.

y/n: a lighthouse singing to every lost ship, you carve melodies into silence and turn your scars into stars, a mother who builds kingdoms out of tenderness and flame. your voice is a key, unlocking doors for every soul shut out in the cold, a verse that turns loneliness into legacy. your love—bold, unyielding, eternal—makes every dark room brighter, every broken piece holy.

jeno: the storm that learned to kneel in a sunbeam, hands inked with old numbers and new vows, you run until the world bends soft around you. your heart, stitched together from splinters and sweat, beats like thunder for every child who never knew safety until you. on the court or in the quiet, you choose gentleness again and again, turning old pain into new devotion.

junseo: sunrise in a boy’s body, gold-lashed and wide-eyed, you are hope made tangible, the fresh page every family aches to write on. you give away your heart with every small kindness, every hand you hold, every giggle echoing down the hall. you are the future—sweet and unafraid, the answer to every prayer that was whispered in the dark.

serin: a comet in baby form, wild light and honeyed laughter, you spin chaos into joy and make rebellion look holy. your hands are full of glitter, your pockets full of dare, always pulling the others into your orbit. forgiveness tumbles from your mouth faster than anger; you burn and rebuild every day.

mark: the oak tree grown from a single, stubborn acorn, you anchor everyone in a storm, roots tangled in the old ache of loyalty. your laugh is the sound of doors opening, your silence the shelter that keeps everyone safe. you choose love, every day, even when your heart cracks open to let the light in.

areum: the lens through which every broken thing finds its beauty, you gather shattered light and thread it into stories worth keeping. your hands know the shape of grief and how to soften it, arranging loss into bouquets for the living. you are the archivist of hope, memory’s gentle keeper, forever making space for love that never dies.

taesun: the wish whispered between breaths, a heartbeat too brief, you live on in lullabies and the empty space at the table. every dream your family has is a doorway you left open, every sky a canvas you painted with invisible stars. you are absence that aches, presence that soothes, the reason the night always feels a little warmer.

chaeun: the petal that never wilts, gentle as morning dew, you cry when laughter gets too loud, then reach for a hand to hold. your sweetness is the balm, your patience the quiet spell that makes every storm pass softer. you are the thread that mends, the hush between heartbeats, loving with the kind of sincerity that makes the world slow down.

jaemin: the sunrise dad, all honeyed warmth and gentle teasing, arms always open for every lost child and every new beginning. your laughter builds a home before the bricks are even set, your patience a harbor for every small soul who drifts your way. in every bedtime story, you stitch hope into sleep and give your daughter a forever place to land.

haeun: moonbeam in a yellow dress, laughter like windchimes, you walk through the world with impossible wonder, loving until you overflow. you speak in a language of light, healing wounds you can’t see, kissing the air for brothers you never met. your spirit is made of gold ribbon and second chances, every day a new beginning, every night a wish sent to the stars.

karina: the prism girl, reflecting everyone’s secret colors, you move like poetry through a crowded room, unafraid to burn or be burned. every look is a secret shared, every word a door left ajar, you gather broken pieces and call them art. loyalty is your backbone; you are the storm and the shelter all at once.

shotaro: the heartbeat of the dance floor, a sunbeam in sneakers, every joy you feel is contagious, every sorrow short-lived. you build family in circles and song, laughter your native tongue, forgiveness your fallback. when you move, you teach everyone else how to fly.

ryujin: steel spun into grace, you cut through silence with a single look, never letting fear be the end of your story. you are a hand on a trembling back, the first to leap, the last to leave, always carrying fire in your gaze. loyalty is your compass; rebellion, your inheritance.

donghyuck: the spark in the dark room, chaos and comfort knotted into one, you make every secret worth telling. you speak in riddles, love in jokes, and cry when no one’s watching—your devotion never in question. the world is brighter for your noise, safer for your softness.

chenle: the golden thread through every tangled friendship, a grin that undoes a day’s worth of pain, you turn trouble into tradition. you’re a mapmaker for the lost, a lighthouse for the restless, always louder, always loving. when you laugh, even the grownups become children again.

ningning: the melody that lingers after the music stops, you carry every heartache like a verse in a song. your joy is infectious, your anger dazzling, your love a wild, necessary thing. you are always the last to give up and the first to forgive.

yangyang: the horizon always just out of reach, you are the reason adventure never ends, the friend who turns exile into home. your laughter bridges continents, your arms the softest place for the broken. change is your dance partner; hope, your oldest friend.

irene: the mother of second chances, spine like silk and iron, you built a family out of fragments and loved them into wholeness. your wisdom is a shield, your embrace a refuge, your legacy the space you made for everyone to start again. when you love, you leave the door open for anyone who needs to come home.

doyoung: the steady flame in the storm, voice of reason and mercy, you are the quiet that follows chaos. your hands have learned the shape of forgiveness, your patience the foundation on which futures are built. with every gentle word, you mend what fear tries to break.

seulgi: the morning after the hardest night, eyes always searching for the light, you turn sorrow into foundation and survival into beauty. your kindness is the house everyone gathers in, your resilience the thread that weaves every family back together. you forgive more than most, and in doing so, teach everyone how to begin again.

taeyong: the ghost at the edge of every family photo, a storm that taught everyone the cost of silence. your shadow stretches long, but your story is a lesson in breaking the chain, in becoming more than what hurt you. even in your absence, you are the warning, the line drawn, the vow never to repeat the past.

nahyun: a lesson carved in glass and shadow, you are the mirror that shatters and wounds at once. you are the venom in every secret, the storm behind a perfect smile; chaos in silk, cruelty with a crown. your name is a warning, a bruise, a chapter closed—proof that not every ghost deserves a home in the light.

jihyo: the quiet architect of safe places, a healer’s soul hidden in laughter, you make every gathering feel like a homecoming. your patience is endless, your strength quiet but fierce, a backbone for those who think they have none. with every kindness, you teach the world that gentleness survives, that love can be the loudest voice in the room.

coach suh: the architect of second chances, a storm in a whistle, you are the reason lost boys come home whole. your voice is gravel and gospel, tough love with tenderness folded in; every hard lesson a secret blessing, every win and loss a place to grow. you build teams the way others build families: brick by brick, heart by heart, believing fiercely that every kid deserves someone in their corner—no matter how many times they fall.

every minor character, every parent, every coach, every friend: you are the secret constellation behind every hero’s journey, the background music that never fades. you’re the dinner table set for too many, the hallway echoing with laughter, the quiet voice reminding us that no one is too small to matter, no one too lost to be found. the adults are roots and branches—some scarred, some blossoming—holding up the wild tangle of children who spin around them like planets. coaches, with their whistle prayers and patience, are guardians of second chances; parents, both living and gone, are the ghosts who tuck us in, the legends who teach us how to stay or how to leave. even those who broke us are inked in the story’s veins, teaching that family is made of blood, yes, but mostly of choice—chosen, fought for, grieved, forgiven. every soul who passed through this world leaves a shadow, a kindness, a warning, or a welcome. found family is the myth we write together, the kind that says: you are seen, you are held, you are never truly alone. every story belongs to all of us, in the end.

the core themes of this fic—the heartbeat at its center—are the things i hope you’ll carry with you:

• not abandoning what’s broken. like jeno’s childhood jersey, the story refuses to give up on things frayed at the edges. it’s about loving what’s been hurt, honoring scars, seeing value in what others cast aside.

• second chances are real. even when the world tries to convince you that you’ve missed your shot, there’s always a way back. you can build a new ending.

• love survives silence, distance, even betrayal. no matter how many miles or years stand between you, if it’s real, it will find a way to persist. love outlasts what tries to break it.

• family is chosen, built, and fought for every day. this universe is full of found family, the kind that sticks around even when blood doesn’t, the kind that picks you up and patches you together.

• healing is not linear. progress is messy. sometimes you spiral backwards before moving forward. it’s still healing.

• there’s power in vulnerability. the bravest thing any character does is let themselves be seen—messy, raw, afraid. the moments of honesty are the moments of freedom.

• grief and joy can coexist. the story doesn’t erase pain, it folds it in—shows that new life, new laughter, can exist right beside old aches.

• redemption is for everyone, even those you least expect. forgiveness is never easy, but it’s never out of reach. every character has the chance to choose better, to reach for light, even if they’ve spent years in darkness.

and above all, love is always worth the risk. always.

i poured my heart out here, truly. back to you taught me it’s okay to be vulnerable, to be broken, to let myself be seen. now i want to hear from you, please, pour your hearts out, too. tell me in the comments, send me an ask, leave a reblog on this post: what did back to you teach you? how will you remember it? what lines will echo? what scenes live in your heart? this is a love letter where we’re all the authors. this is a shared universe, i welcome you with an open heart to share and confess whatever you crave to tell.

this story saved me. it healed parts of me i didn’t know i was allowed to mend. it brought me friends from every corner of the world, and i know it did the same for others. this universe is where i learned to put language to pain, where i found community, where i could be as vulnerable as i dared. i will always treasure that. i can’t wait to share more with you. below are pinterest boards, playlists, a community you can find home in, the masterlist so you can keep reliving your favourite moments, here’s magic that built this universe. you’ll have the links to the soundtracks and visuals that made every scene shimmer for me. please use them, share them, fall deeper in love. this story belongs to you now, just as much as it ever did to me.

♬ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎ 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 🎧 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

to every soul who ever commented, screamed in the tags, left a little heart or a thousand words, who laughed, raged, or wept with these people—thank you. you didn’t just read these chapters, you breathed life into them. every whisper, every reaction, every late-night message made this universe real, gave it gravity, made it feel like coming home. you made this world bigger, brighter, softer, truer. you made me braver. you gave these characters their legacy. this is never a goodbye—how could it be, when you’ve sewn your own love into every line? the universe will always be here, lights on, arms open, waiting for you to return. i promise, i will always find my way back to you. thank you, with everything i am, for loving all of this so fiercely, so tenderly. please—stay, talk to me, help me keep this heartbeat alive. i’m endlessly grateful you’re here, and always will be.

and to my orbi—the keeper of secrets (she knew what the ending would be from the very start hehe, the exclusive perks you get if you become one of my closest friends... joking), the guardian of the best plot twists, the genius behind so many of the moments you all hold closest. none of this would exist the way it does without you. you held my hand through every tangled brainstorm, sat up for hours as we picked apart endings and rewrote beginnings, and somehow always saw the story’s heart before i did. so many of the things readers adore—those gasp-worthy reveals, the aching resolutions, even the fic name back to you—they were born from your mind first. you’ve held every secret, protected every unfinished arc, believed in every wild direction i wanted to go. you loved this universe with me when it was still just scattered notes and unspoken longing, and you gave me courage to write with my whole chest. thank you for your devotion, your ideas, your laughter, your honesty, your unwavering belief. you’re in every line, every scene, every heartbeat of this world. i love you, endlessly. @hyperbolicheart

with all my love, sophie 🫶.

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slytherinshua · 2 months ago

Text

⋆.˚　SMILE IN LOVE　( 刘扬扬 )

genre fluff , established long term relationship , yangyang x fem!reader cw they're so in love , kissing , not proofread wc 918 request yes note guys im so single im so sorry for how disgustingly fluffy this is but me and my boyfriend when net @kstrucknet @neocity-net

You’d been dating Liu Yangyang for years, more than you could truly keep track of until your anniversary rolled around each year. You were always together, and easily had one of the most stable relationships of your entire combined friend group. While you nursed your friends through breakups, drama, or shitty treatment, you always had Yangyang to fall back to. Yangyang, who you never had any problems with.

Sure you had your occasional fight and disagreements, but they never lasted. Even if you were annoyed at Yangyang, whenever you looked at him, you could only feel love overflowing. Perhaps it helped that there was rarely a serious moment between you two. Even in the most romantic and sentimental moments, there would always be something to crack you up.

Laughing until your stomach hurt— that was the feeling you most associated with your boyfriend. More than his soft kisses, or his teasing ones. More than his warm hugs and spontaneous tickle attacks. More than his big grin and endless compliments. When you were with Yangyang, you always found yourself laughing. And that was what made you believe he was meant for you, and you for him more than anything. Soulmates, if one believed in such things.

You would always be the first one to jump to defend your boyfriend and gush about how amazing he was. But even so, you weren’t clingy. Yangyang was always the one to latch onto you and refuse to let you go or smother you with kisses after a long day hours apart. You were just there to reciprocate the affection you initiated. You never felt like you weren’t close enough to Yangyang because he was always with you.

But when it came to tours when your boyfriend was in an entirely different country for weeks, sometimes months; that was when you started to struggle. You weren’t used to experiencing the feeling so intensely. Like the second he was back you needed to crawl into his skin and make a new home there. It felt as if you would explode if you saw another photo or video from one of the concerts.

He was always styled to perfection; charisma and flirty looks on for everyone to see during the 3 hour show. But there was always the goofy side of him that came out as well— clips of him giggling on stage, excited to see fans or having fun doing a segment with the other members. Those were worse than the sexy moments, because it reminded you of how much you missed his laugh. You missed laughing with him.

Of course, you could call him. But you never laughed as much on video call with him. And it certainly never felt the same as laughing in his arms. Feeling his body shake with his giggles, or your laughter being cut off with his lips. Even if he didn’t say he missed you when he called you (which was rare— he was always complaining about it), you could hear it in his held back laughter. Something always felt missing when you weren’t together.

That was why you impatiently counted down the days until he would be back from tour and back in your arms. Then you truly wouldn’t hold back. You needed to hug him so tight that your arms would feel sore, and kiss him until you forgot what it felt like to not have his lips entangled with yours. You needed to feel his warm skin under your fingertips and hear the melodious laughter that only you could summon from him so easily. You had never missed your boyfriend so damn much, and you were almost positive the feeling was going to drive you insane.

Naturally, you decided to wait by the door the entire morning, biding the time until your boyfriend walked through it, as if staring at it would make him come back any faster. You could track his location on your phone. You saw it clearly state thirty minutes more before he was back. But you stared nonetheless, counting down the seconds to curb your longing.

You held your breath when you heard the car pull up, time going unbearably slow until the door opened. Then everything was a blur— moving too fast for you to process as your heart soared. His scent enveloped your senses. His arms around your body squeezed you perfectly.

And then he laughed. It brought your own laughter to bubble up immediately and soon you were lost in the feeling you had missed more than anything else.

“Fuck, I missed you so much. I missed this so much,” he said, nose scrunching along with his big grin as he took a moment to soak you in again. His eyes, deep and full of love, could not be moved from your face. You watched them drift down to your lips, and you leaned up naturally, meeting him halfway.

His lips were as soft as ever, desperate to memorize the kiss like he had never experienced it before in his life. Weeks deprived of the feeling made it even sweeter now. You knew you both wouldn’t be content until your lips were swollen and the taste of his lip balm stayed on your tongue for the rest of the day.

Now that Yangyang was finally back home, you wanted to stay in his arms for hours. And after the hours flew by and drowsiness crept onto you both, you would fall asleep still cuddled close to him.

wayv taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hursheys,, @raevyng,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @voikiraz,, @xikskrrrs,, @cupidslovearrows,, @nicholasluvbot,, @hhaechansmoless,, @i03jae,, @somerandomf1fan,, @tmrwsuns

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deathbxnny · 1 year ago

Note

ooooh, so you're doing wuwa now!

How about Shinxi and Yangyang with an S/O that's is immune to poison and venom?

Whether it be divine blessing, or some one-in-a-million genetic fluke, they can consume such deadly things without fucking dying.

Like, just imagine the first time they see S/O do it, they just chug a vial full of cyanide like it's a shot-glass, let out a small burp and comment:

"Hmmm, could use some citrus."

So I, for some reason, cannot find nor remember a character named "Shinxi" in the game, unless I just forgot, to which I apologize then. But because of this, I decided to just use Jinhsi instead and hope that's okay with you, Anon!!<3

Content: Romantic relationships, poison drinking, kind of unserious, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》JINHSI

The first time Jinhsi ever saw you casually drink poison was most likely during an investigation of some sort of an unknown liquid. No one knew what it was yet, so whilst everyone was trying to discuss it's source, you popped the lid open and drank it down in one go. Jinhsi, who was standing next to you, looked absolutely horrified for a moment, thinking that you'll drop dead any second now... until you didn't.

"... Why... Why did you-?" "-Yeah, this is definitely a type of poison, guys... It tastes really good, too. So, if you find more, let me know!" You grin happily before calmly taking your leave, as though you didn't just attempt to essentially end your own life moments ago. Jinhsi watches you make your exit for a moment before looking at the rest of the researchers who looked just as confused.

Shaking her head in disbelief, whilst she regained her composure, she decided to confront you about it later. And whilst she is quite impressed by your talent, she's also definitely going to scold you for the heart attack you nearly gave her.

》YANGYANG

You were out on a little patrol when you came by a bush filled with berries. Yangyang immideatly recognized them and told you that they were extremely poisonous. Even a single one could kill a person... but you were very much unconvinced. So much so that you wanted to prove it. "Oh... uhm, I'm not sure on how you'll do that, (Y/N)- Ah! What are you doing!?" Her soft voice cracked in horror as she watched you stuff a handful of the berries into your mouth immediately with a determined glint in your eyes.

She was quick to try and get you to spit it out, but you were faster in swallowing it. Near tears welled up in her eyes when she realised that she would probably have to watch you die now. But somehow, you didn't. Instead, you paused before shrugging indifferently.

"Well, it didn't kill me... but they didn't taste that great either." You say whilst casually walking off to continue your patrol. Yangyang stood there dumbfounded for a moment until she just sighed in complete defeat and followed along. She didn't even want to know how you did it anymore, either.

#Wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves #wuwa fanfic #wuwa x reader #wuwa x you #wuwa jinhsi #wuwa jinhsi x reader #wuwa yangyang #wuwa yangyang x reader #jinhsi #jinhsi x reader #yangyang #yangyang x reader

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natokkiz · 7 months ago

Text

OUR PATHS | 13. OHMYGOsh he's crazy (wc: 0.8k)

THE APARTMENT was quiet when you got back, the usual chatter from yeji and ryujin in the living room had been relocated to their bedroom. you rolled your suitcase in, trying not to draw any attention to yourself. you could tell that you failed that task once you heard their door open and saw ryujin slowly emerging from their room.

ryujin paused at the sight of you, her own shoulders tightening. “hey,” she started tentatively, her voice softer than usual.

you didn’t look up at first, awkwardly avoiding her gaze. “hey,” you replied flatly.

ryujin moved slowly towards you in the hallway, “let me help you with your stuff.”

“okay,” you spoke, finally meeting her eyes. “i’m just going to change, and then we can talk,” you said before walking off to your room.

you came back to find ryujin on the couch in the living room, slightly rubbing her stomach—a habit of hers when she’s feeling flustered. you two made eye contact again and she took a deep breath before speaking again, “i know you’re mad at me and i get it. i don’t really know where to start—”

“i know exactly where to start,” you took charge of the conversation. though your tone wasn’t sharp, the hurt was evident. “let’s talk about how you decided it was okay to withhold something so important from me.”

ryujin raised her eyebrows in distress. “i... i didn’t mean for it to feel like that. at the time, i thought i was protecting you.”

“protecting me?” you repeated. “ryu, i spent months—actually, a year—thinking i wasn’t worth fighting for. thinking he didn’t care enough to try to explain himself.”

her head dropped slightly. “at the time, i thought hearing him out would just make it worse. he hurt you before, y/n. how was i supposed to trust that he wouldn’t do it again?”

“but that wasn’t your decision to make!” your voice cracked, and she quickly wiped at her eyes. “it wasn’t your breakup to deal with. it wasn’t your relationship to fix or ruin. you knew how much i went through because of that, and still… that was what you decided to do?”

ryujin’s voice raised slightly. “because i was scared, okay?” her voice trembled. “i was scared that if he came back into your life, he’d destroy you all over again. and i wanted to look out for you. you’re one of my best friends, y/n. i couldn’t stand seeing you like that.” she reached out for your hand.

you fell silent, but took her hand into yours. you understood where she was coming from, but it didn’t erase the hurt. “you should’ve told me,” you said quietly. “you should’ve let me decide if i wanted to hear him out. instead, you took that choice away from me.”

ryujin’s eyes filled with tears. “you’re right. i should have. and i’m sorry. i really am. i never wanted to hurt you, y/n. i thought i was doing what was best, but... i see now that i overstepped. by trying to stop him from hurting you, i hurt you instead. if i could do it differently, i would.”

there was a heavy pause, the two of you taking turns with the tissue box. “i get why you did it,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “i do. but it still hurt. it made me feel like you didn’t trust me to handle my own life.”

ryujin nodded, attentively listening to you. “i was wrong. i promise i’ll never do something like that again. i’ll support you, whatever you decide—whether it’s jaemin, someone else, or no one at all.”

you felt a sense of relief wash over you. “thank you for saying that. i forgive you. just know that i’m still dragging you to the exhibition on opening night. are you sure you’ll be okay seeing him?”

ryujin gave a small chuckle at you. “i told you, i support you no matter what. even with your avoidant attachment style and roster issue. and the fact that it’s so obvious you are choosing jaemin again.”

you jokingly hit her arm, “hey! why is everyone coming for me today…”

“because we love you and we care about you! and that means coming for you when you’re being a little stupid. please tell me you’re breaking it off with yangyang soon.”

“i am, don’t worry. and, thank you. for caring about me. even if you got it wrong the first time.”

ryujin pulled you into a hug, her voice tinged with relief. “always.” the two of you heard yeji’s footsteps in the hallway and looked around to see her put her hands on her heart, “finally. i couldn’t stand the two of you not being okay!”

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES | i kept my promise <3 just one more serious talk for y/n... also sorry for the crumbs in this 😭 this is mainly a friendship driven chapter but it propels the plot dw... TAGLIST (open!) | @polarisjisung @tommina @luvv4bby @222low @luluvhs @spideykeyring @dudekiss3r @sunghoonsgfreal @jeonghansshitester @injunnie-lemon @eternallyhyucks @njmluvr @n0hyuck @junviadinho @hyunnies-world @hahaechans @p4tyaraujo @baeseungcheolie @untilthesunrises @lotties-readings @mango-bear @angelicaleex @jungaji @luvvhaechan @lionzyon @y4wnjunz @luvandletter @applejaem @pikibell @keeryverse @botchedbrat @mystverse @t-102 @skzfairies @andyprkmyluv @gomdoleemyson @slayhaechan @channnaa @lovekm @sungsgirl

bold = couldn't tag

#jaemin x reader #jaemin texts #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin smau #jaemin angst #na jaemin x reader #jaemin imagine #jaemin scenarios #na jaemin #jaemin #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream texts #nct dream x reader #nct dream smau #isa writes ✍️#loml <3 #fic: our paths 🐇

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starlightkun · 2 years ago

Text

i do not allow reuploads, reposts, or translations of my works. i cross-post to ao3 and wattpad. i do not take requests. i write for fun and for free. feedback is of course welcome and greatly appreciated, please feel free to send me an ask, reblog, or comment!

if you're looking for a fic and can't find it, check my archive masterlist

PLEASE READ/INCLUSIVITY: unless explicitly stated otherwise in the genre tags, all of my reader-inserts use she/her pronouns, and are commonly referred to with gendered language such as girl, woman, etc. i do not make references to the reader's skin tone. i tend to avoid describing how the reader-insert takes up space (height or size) but if i do, the only members that i may explicitly depict as taller than the reader-insert are those that are 180cm or above (johnny, jaehyun, jungwoo, sungchan, jisung, and maybe sicheng if i'm feeling extra nice)

taglist | recent work | recommended work

word count 2025: 21.6k | blog word count: 1.228M

nets: blankjournal

KEY

f - fluff a - angst m - mature/heavy themes (i do not write smut, but not everything here will be appropriate for all ages, proceed with caution and read all warnings provided at the beginning of fics) h - humor/crack fic ✦ - author favorite

the starlightkuniverses

➺ series of multiple fics that take place in the same universe. pick your favorite member or read them all

➺ the strawberry sunday anthology (f, m, h, ✦)

modern magical creatures au, modern fantasy au, college au ── fairy!jungwoo, vampire!kun, werewolf!jeno, dragon!jisung, werewolf!sungchan, human!renjun, basilisk!mark, dryad!jaemin, and siren!shotaro * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ venue:hell (f, a, m)

band au, punk/alt au ── drummer!sungchan, frontman/lead singer!shotaro, and retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ the ayakashi series (f, a, m)

based off the otome game 'ayakashi romance reborn,' modern yokai au ── tengu!jeno, oni!kun, human!jaehyun, and snow spirit!doyoung * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a, m)

based off wayv's dream launch plan videos and the otome game 'sleepless cinderella' ── pilot!kun, surgeon!ten, actor!sicheng, director!dejun, robotics engineer!kunhang, and f1 racer!yangyang * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

special events

➺ 2023 hallmark movie marathon (f, a)

christmas-themed, new year's-themed ── three (and a half) fics with very cheesy hallmark movie-esque premises and tropes for the holiday season, all starring kun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ 2024 hallmark movie marathon (f, h)

christmas-themed, new year's-themed ── three fics with very cheesy hallmark movie-esque premises and tropes for the holiday season, all starring jisung * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

qian kun

➺ frankenstein complex (f, m, ✦) ── 67.9k, completed

sci-fi, near-ish future, black op mission captain kun, ?????? reader, humans and aliens and robots ── in which the crew of the vision finds you as the sole survivor of a classified research facility and there's more gaps in your memory than memories themselves. on top of that, you've got this weird feeling that the captain of the crew you've found yourself with isn't exactly what he seems... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sweet girl (f, m, ✦) ── 53.9k

from the ayakashi series, oni!kun, onmyoji!reader ── in which you have to juggle love, friends, school, and a great evil that could destroy your city * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ the bite (f, a, m) ── 25.5k

single dad!kun, single mom!reader, e2l, slice(s) of life ── in which kun's son bites yours at preschool, and you want nothing to do with this 'mr. qian' * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ romance is dead (f, m, h, ✦) ── 19.4k & 10.3k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, vampire!kun, human!reader, "uh-oh one of us drank a love potion" but with a twist, strangers(ish) to lovers ── in which there’s a mix-up with a love potion, and you're suddenly being courted by a several-hundred-year-old vampire. it's not all sonnets and bouquets, though, as you're keenly aware that kun's love could turn to thirst. and maybe you wouldn't mind if it did * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ flopstar (f, m) ── 18.3k

part of the venue:hell universe, band au, retired floprockstar/venue manager!kun, rookie/keyboardist!reader, age gap (older kun) ── in which your band finally gets a break in the form of a recurring gig at a local underground punk venue. when you realize the manager is the former keyboardist of your favorite band from a decade ago, though, it becomes even harder to keep your cool * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a) ── 11.4k

from the sleepless cinderella series, pilot!kun, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ chasing love across the receivers (f) ── 9.3k

sci-fi, near future, falling in love without seeing each other ── in which you go to your job as a space traffic controller every day looking forward to your shifts with one specific coworker who you might be falling head over heels for. and sure, you don't know quebec's real name, nor what he looks like, but you two talk for hours a day between guiding landings and take-offs, and you know him better than anyone else. you're perfectly happy, until his end of the comms falls silent one day and won't reconnect * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ hopeless for the holidays (f) ── 8.7k

strangers to lovers, new years-themed, attorney kun, wedding planner reader, aged up kun & reader (mid/late thirties) ── in which your friend drags you to a singles mixer being thrown by the local bar association, and you're less than thrilled. in between betting her coworker that he won't find someone to kiss by midnight and helping her avoid her ex from law school, you hardly expect to meet someone like qian kun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ much mistletoeing about nothing (a, f) ── 7.6k & 1.9k sequel

exes to lovers, christmas-themed, getting snowed in trope, cuddling to share warmth trope ── in which your first mistake was saying yes to christmas dinner with your ex. your second mistake was being late to said christmas dinner. and your third... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ hold my red heart (f) ── 3.4k

christmas-themed, fake dating trope, f2l ── in which you need some help getting rid of a very persistent coworker, and what better way than bringing your boyfriend to the office christmas party? only problem, you don't have a boyfriend. enter kun. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

kim doyoung

➺ snowflake (f, a, m) ── 75.3k

from the ayakashi series, snow spirit!doyoung, onmyoji!reader ── in which you experience both great love and great loss, and learn how to battle hypothermia * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

ten

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a, m) ── 13.8k

from the sleepless cinderella series, surgeon!ten, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

jeong jaehyun

➺ s.c.s. (f, m) ── 66.2k

from the ayakashi series, human!jaehyun, onmyoji!reader, childhood friends to lovers ── in which jaehyun's just always been a family friend, the son of your dad's friend. so why are you so nervous around him now? why are you thinking about kissing him so much? and oh yeah, what's up with all those evil wraiths? * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ valentine boy (f) ── 5.0k

rich kid!au, childhood friends to lovers ── in which you’re reunited with your childhood friend and refuse to let him go this time * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

dong sicheng

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 13.5k

from the sleepless cinderella series, actor!sicheng, journalist!reader, fake dating, e2l ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

kim jungwoo

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sci-fi, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, soulmate au but make it aliens ── in which you've never been good at keeping your nose out of trouble, and a spaceship crashing a few meters away from you is right up your alley. the alien inside claiming that you're his soulmate might finally put you out of your depth, though * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read part one | two

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mark lee

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part of the strawberry sunday universe, basilisk!mark, sphinx!reader, strangers to lovers, age gap (older reader) ── in which a desperate mark knocks on your door one night when he gets locked out of his friends' apartment, and you get way more than you bargained for in return. you hardly expect that the cute infatuation he displays for you immediately would be anything more; nor that you'd ever find yourself falling for the basilisk and his baby fangs too * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ invested (a, f) ── 23.1k

ft. donghyuck, love triangle, matching tattoo soulmate au ── in which you're convinced that you don't have a tattoo, and that you're in love with lee donghyuck * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

xiao dejun

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 14.4k

from the sleepless cinderella series, director!dejun, journalist!reader, childhood friends to lovers ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

wong kunhang

➺ savior (f, h, ✦) ── 24.3k

royal au, prince!kunhang, princess!reader, "you saved me, so now i'm your problem" ── in which you really should've read up on the customs of your neighboring kingdom before visiting * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f) ── 11.1k

from the sleepless cinderella series, robotics engineer!kunhang, journalist!reader, e2l ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

huang renjun

➺ dr_magic2303 (f, h, m) ── 18.3k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, human!renjun, siren!reader, academic rivals to lovers ── in which a mysterious user by the pseudonym of dr_magic2303 starts popping up on your university’s online forums. you’re determined to get to the bottom of their identity, so you decide to enlist the help of your academic rival for the past four years, huang renjun * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

lee jeno

➺ featherbrain (f, m) ── 48.3k

from the ayakashi series, tengu!jeno, onmyoji!reader ── in which you can't believe you've fallen for this stupid, stupid tengu * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ tongue-tied (f) ── 17.4k

strangers to lovers, model!jeno, journalist!reader, reworked version of old sleepless cinderella route ── in which you find yourself getting sucked deeper and deeper into an article in order to ignore the scarily personal part that won't seem to leave you alone * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ pupsick (f, m) ── 11.8k & 8.8k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, werewolf!jeno, human!reader, f2l, bakery au ── in which jeno's sick and insists that you're the only one that can take care of him. but according to your only other werewolf friend, you're also what's making him sick * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

lee donghyuck

➺ invested (f, a) ── 23.1k

ft. mark, love triangle, matching tattoo soulmate au ── in which you're convinced that you don't have a tattoo, and that you're in love with lee donghyuck * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

na jaemin

➺ the golden fruit duology (f) ── 32.0k

nades au, hades!jaemin, human!reader, persephone allegory ── in which you think you're trading away a third of your life for your dream job but get much, much more * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ [NEW] savvy (f, h) ── 12.2k

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liu yangyang

➺ speedometer (f, ✦) ── 14.1k

street racer!yangyang, college au ── in which you meet someone who sends your heart racing * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ sleepless cinderella (f, a) ── 12.9k

from the sleepless cinderella series, f1 racer!yangyang, journalist!reader ── in which you become your own cinderella one night, with six prince charmings to choose from * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

osaki shotaro

➺ sugarcoated brain (f, a) ── 13.7k

part of the venue:hell universe, band au, punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader ── in which you're assigned to take care of the band who will be filling the weekly performance slot at your workplace. you're warned their scatterbrained frontman can be a handful thanks to his tendency to misplace everything he owns. what nobody could have prepared you for is his inexplicable one-track mind when it comes to you * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ [WIP...] drawing you on the crashing waves (f) ──

part of the strawberry sunday universe, siren!shotaro, human!reader, strangers to lovers ── in which you're saved from a near-drowning by friendly siren shotaro, who also happens to be the cute bobarista that had caught your eye at the boba tea place near campus. everything seems to be falling into place in the bubbly beginnings of your new relationship, but you just can't shake the image of the sea monster that you swore you saw that day in the murky ocean depths * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

jung sungchan

➺ buzzer beater series (f, m, ✦) ── 75.1k, completed

college au (and after), hockey captain!sungchan, chronically ill!reader (migraines) ── in which you swear you’re only going to the joint halloween party being hosted by the hockey team and nu chi tau for a few minutes just to say hi to sungchan, but as can be expected with your life, something goes horribly, horribly wrong * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ the soulmate factory (f, a, ✦) ── 28.9k

science fantasy au, soulmate au (red string), star crossed lovers, mystery ── in which you work at the soulmate factory, pressing all the buttons when you’re supposed to, changing strangers’ fates. until one day a red string appears on your finger, and you know something has gone horribly wrong. employees of the soulmate factory are explicitly barred from participating in the program. on top of hiding it from your coworkers and bosses, you also have to investigate how this even happened and undo it, before you lose your job and before you meet your soulmate * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ [COMING SOON] soulbound (f, a) ── 23.6k

two bodies one soul au, acquaintances of extreme inconvenience, e2l ── in which you and sungchan share one soul between you, a fact that has been the literal bane of your existence since your birth. while the two of you personally get along like oil and water, physical distance would kill your soul and both of you with it. when you land a lucrative new job in a different city, you never expect sungchan to actually agree to uproot his entire life for your dreams * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ changer (f, a) ── 22.3k & 25.5k sequel

part of the strawberry sunday universe, werewolf!sungchan, human!reader, slowish burn, blind date ── in which you and sungchan are set up on a blind date, and it goes terribly. but a chance second meeting could reignite the spark of... friendship? well shit. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ that hot (f) ── 17.2k

meet-ugly, strangers to lovers, forced proximity (long car trip, vacation, etc.) ── in which you first get introduced to sungchan at a friend's party, but you just don't trust guys who are that hot. scene cut, and he's driving you to a cabin in the mountains that your entire friend group will be staying at for two whole weeks. then you miss your exit. then his car gets a flat tire. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ filler episodes (f) ── 16.6k & 9.5k sequel

part of the venue:hell universe, band au, drummer!sungchan, normie!reader, badboy x good girl but make it loserboy x girlfail ── in which your whole life has felt like filler episodes, and you're tired of living like that. enter jung sungchan, part-time bookstore worker, part-time tea shop employee, and part-time drummer for a local underground punk band. he's everything you're not, and as soon as he's wedged himself into your life, you find that you don't want him to go * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ weddings & funerals (a, f) ── 9.9k

exes to lovers, second chance romance ── in which you and sungchan keep ending up as each other's plus-ones to weddings and funerals, despite the fact that you broke up months ago * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ tourist trapped (f) ── 2.4k

enemies to lovers (or are they...) ── in which your day out at the fair with your friends somehow ends up with you stuck at the top of the ferris wheel with the one person you'd been avoiding, sungchan. but you're not avoiding him for the reason that all your friends think you are... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

park jisung

➺ pur autre vie (a, f, m) ── 26.1k & 17.5k sequel

paranormal/supernatural au, ghost!jisung ── in which you inherit your stepdad's house under the condition that you can live there for as long as you take care of your mother. at first, you think her belief that the house is haunted is just her declining mind playing tricks on her. but the longer you're there, the more you start to think something isn't right... * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here | sequel

➺ the dragon's happily ever after (f, h) ── 17.4k

part of the strawberry sunday universe, dragon!jisung, human!reader, f2l, secret relationship/fake not dating trope ── in which you and jisung sort of forgot to tell your nosy friends that you're dating, but realize it's the perfect opportunity to give them a little taste of their own medicine. they're trying to set you two up, while you're trying to see how long it takes them to notice that you're already dating. cue the shenanigans * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ out of left field (f) ── 16.3k

christmas/new year's-themed, college au, brother's best friend trope, baseball player!jisung, rich kid!reader, slowish burn ── in which a missed connection in the library during finals week turns into two weeks at your family's winter home with your brother's cute friend on the baseball team. as long as you and your brother don't kill each other before you even get there, this could be the best christmas ever * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ mistletoe while you work (f, h) ── 6.9k

christmas-themed, established relationship, secret relationship, meddling coworkers & equally unhinged reader & jisung ── in which you and jisung truly had only meant to keep your relationship private from your colleagues until jisung's new employee evaluation. then two of your coworkers tried to convince you to sleep with jisung for his own good, and who were you to pass up the perfect opportunity for some workplace hijinks? * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

➺ want from me (f) ── 1.7k

christmas-themed, sleeping with a stranger at the office holiday party and oops! they're your new coworker trope ── in which you did not plan for the handsome stranger that you took home from the office holiday party to end up also being the new transfer to your team. you also did not plan for a repeat of that night. but you had also never planned for park jisung. * :✧˚ ·♡. ─── read here

#masterlist #nav #mine #text #updated: 02/14/25 #recent: savvy #next: soulbound #*100 #*200 #*300 #*400

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midmourn · 2 years ago

Text

mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)

title mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)

pairing huang renjun x gender neutral!reader

summary you and your friends always sit at the table a couple down from mine and talk shit in madarin, which happens to be a language i’m currently learning. i’ve been eavesdropping to try and improve my listening comprehension and oh my god are you actually talking about how pretty i am???

characters huang renjun, zhong chenle [nct], liu yangyang [wayv], hwang yeji [itzy]

warnings none but it does imply you speak korean as well

word count 812

author’s note rewrite from my old blog. italics = mandarin

Here’s the thing: you were pretty firm on privacy. You didn’t like yours getting invaded by nosy people, and even have scolded so many for doing so. Yet, here you were; eavesdropping. You were no better than them.

You usually tried to ignore the group of boys that always sat at the same table, talking shit about people in their lives in Mandarin.

But could anyone really blame you? When the pretty boy with stars for eyes kept glancing over in your direction and commenting to his friends in Mandarin, “Aren’t they so pretty? … No, the one facing us.”

You ducked your head, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you barely managed to hide your growing smile. If you just smiled at seemingly nothing, you’d seem like a weirdo.

Yeji eyed you with a weird look, brows furrowing, “What’s got you all smiley, huh?” She poked you in the arm with her pen.

You shushed her quietly, shaking your head as you leaned in to whisper to her, “You see the boy with the white cardigan?” When she briefly looked over and nodded, you continued, “He’s telling his friend about how pretty I am in Mandarin.” You giggle.

A grin rose on her lips, looking over again, “What’s he saying now?”

“His friend’s asking why he won’t come talk to me,” you keep your head down, seemingly focused on your laptop. “Stop looking over there! You’ll get us caught.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she giggled, looking down at her notebook. “Hey, what’s the answer for number two?”

“You’re only on two?” Your mouth dropped open in shock. Yeji shrugged, cheeks flaring. “It’s C. Anyways, he’s saying he won’t ‘cause he doesn’t want to embarrass himself if I was already taken,” you hum, glancing up momentarily and accidentally making eye contact with the cute boy.

His cheeks flushed red, head snapping back to his friends, “They just caught me looking at them! See!” His friend’s head turned to look at you, “No! Don’t look, dumbass!”

“I agree, he’s a dumbass, but look at what?” A dark haired boy joined the conversation, speaking in Korean instead of Mandarin.

His friend hushed him, “Shut up! Don’t speak in Korean.”

The boy blinked.

“Don’t look, but you see the person studying with the girl with braids in her hair behind me?” The boy with his back towards you asked the new boy. You could see out of the corner of your eye that the new boy looked towards your direction anyway.

“Dude,” the cute boy groaned in exasperation, putting his face in his hands.

“He asked if I could see them! How was I not supposed to look?”

“Whatever, Renjun thinks they’re pretty.” Renjun was the boy’s name, huh? You smiled to yourself.

“They are. Go tell them that, ge,” the boy said.

“Are you crazy? I’m not going to make a fool out of myself!” The cute boy’s—Renjun— voice cracked cutely at the end.

“Why not? You don’t know what will happen!” The other nameless boy said.

“They’re way too pretty for me,” Renjun shook his head again, cheeks red as he kept making small glances to you. You felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. “I said no,” he added firmly in Korean when the boy opened his mouth to speak again.

The boy shrugged, “Fine, I will.” Ignoring Renjun’s protests, he stood and made his way to you. Your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of confrontation. You scribbled a word on your notebook, pretending to be busy. When he approached your table, both you and Yeji looked up. “Hi, I’m Chenle. You see my friend over there?” Your heads turned to see that Renjun was now clutching the menu, hiding behind it. Chenle sighed in disappointment, “Yeah, the weirdo hiding behind the menu. Anyways, he thinks you’re pretty.”

You knew this already, but your cheeks flushed red. You smiled, “I know.” Chenle’s brows rose in shock at your confession and you could hear the other boy voice his confusion at their table, making you giggle. “I know Mandarin.” You looked at the time on your phone and smiled again, looking up at Yeji, “It’s getting late, my mom will kill me if I’m not home before eight.” Chenle watched as the two of you got up.

You grabbed a paper and pen, quickly writing on it before giving it to Chenle, “Give this to your friend.” You looked up and sent a wink, but in your head, you were freaking out, but managed to keep your cool.

You finished packing your things up and smiled one last time at the group of boys before walking out with your friend.

Renjun grabbed the paper hastily from Chenle and started to read it, his cheeks getting even more red if possible.

i think you’re pretty cute too, and my name’s y/n.

so now that you know mine, i think it’s fair enough that i know yours. :)

***-***-****

- y/n <3

main masterlist

networks @k-films

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sluttyten · 2 years ago

Text

You In My Arms

Chapter 10: I'm Yours

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: During those first few months of your relationship, you and Haechan explore each other and adventure into new areas with each other. Not without some bumps along the way.

length: 15,168 words

tags: friends to lovers, general perversion, smut, public sex, period sex, somnophilia, light consensual non consent, voyeurism, exhibitionism, etc.

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

Falling in love isn’t just about having sex. Obviously. But for you and Haechan, it is a big part.

You have a healthy, active sex life.

Over those first couple months of your relationship, it’s hard to keep your hands off each other.

Whether in private or in public, it doesn’t matter for either of you. At first, you definitely don’t care who sees.

Like when you go over to Haechan and YangYang’s apartment, and after you’ve made a delicious dinner, Haechan fucks you against the sink in the kitchen, his hand over your mouth to keep your moans from echoing out of the room to where YangYang sits on the sofa. His back is to you, but all he’d really have to do is just turn his head and he’d be able to see you getting railed. Not that you care, and not that you think YangYang would really care if he caught you. Haechan has told you about all the times that he’s pretty sure YangYang let him listen to him have sex, that he even left his door cracked open for Haechan to watch.

There’s a time when you sleep over at Haechan’s, and in the morning he neglects to warn you that a visitor has arrived. YangYang isn’t there, so you feel comfortable enough to walk out of Haechan’s bedroom to where he stands in the kitchen, to draw him into a kiss, to let him lift you up to sit on the countertop, and you urge his fingers between your thighs.

Of course, that’s when Renjun emerges from the bathroom and finds Haechan two fingers deep in your pussy.

“Embarrassed?” Haechan teases, kissing you on the cheek, his kiss only serving to deepen the heat of your blush. “It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, right?”

Renjun laughs at that. “Should I return the favor, Haechan? Watch you with her since I know you watched us?” He gestures between you and himself.

Haechan’s hand that rests on your thigh tightens. He leans over you a bit possessively, staring at Renjun until you lift a hand to Haechan’s cheek.

With your fingertips pressing against his cheek, you guide his attention back to you, his lips down to yours.

Before you meet Haechan’s kiss, you groan, “Go away, Renjun.”

He laughs again. “You know, I was invited here by your boyfriend to go eat breakfast.”

Haechan’s lips twitch into a smile. “Plans changed. You can’t have any of what I’m going to eat.”

Then it is your turn to laugh as Haechan ducks down to kiss and nip at your throat. You grasp his shoulders, ignoring the way Renjun grumbles, “Gross,” before he turns and walks out of the apartment.

Haechan and you have sneaky sex at work too.

One horribly stormy day, the two of you are coming back from lunch when the power goes out in the building, stalling the elevator you’re in like a perfect sexy cliche. You take full advantage of it, and you sink to your knees for him. Haechan cums on your tongue and your chin, and then he spends the rest of the time that you’re trapped in there to kiss the taste of himself from you.

There’s a late evening when you’re both still at work even though on a normal day you’d have left hours ago. You’re in the break room when Haechan sneaks up behind you and pins you against the countertop. “I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” he groans, “This dress looks too good on you, baby.” You stand still, sinking into the feeling of his hands on your body, lifting the back of your dress up, and neither of you make any attempt to hide what you’re doing.

There are still a few people left in the office even at this late hour, but they’re all bowed over their work at their desks, not paying any attention to you and Haechan in the break room with the door nearly shut. But anyone could walk in at any moment, and that possibility sparks a thrill inside both of you.

“Let them know,” Haechan says directly into your ear. “Let them all know that you’re a perfect angel for me, letting me do whatever I want with you, whenever I want.”

You didn’t really consider Haechan to be a jealous man, but it certainly drives him a little wild when Yuta gets a little too flirtatious with you one day. Haechan knows about that brief little history you have with your coworker — you’ve both been perfectly open and honest about your sexual histories — which just invites enough jealousy in him that Haechan stays late with you that day so he can fuck you at your desk. He presses between your shoulder blades until your chest is flat against the desk, and with each of his deep, brutal thrusts your hips slam against the edge of your desk, hard enough to bruise. You love it, though; you love the way that he tries so hard to make sure that you don’t forget about him (which there is absolutely no risk of), and he tugs down the neckline of your dress, biting down on the soft part of your shoulder to leave a mark, as if laying his claim on you.

During spring, right in that pocket of time when the days are finally warming up, when the air buzzes with insects and the heady scent of blooming flowers, freshly trimmed grass, and new green things sprouting, you and Haechan start to explore public exhibitionism a little more. Lunch dates in the park on warm days mean cute little sundresses that are easily flipped up for Haechan to finger you right there in the middle of a wide grassy stretch with passersby none the wiser.

Warmer days mean that you break out some strappy tops, which are easier for you to slip off your shoulder, freeing a nipple or even the whole breast for Haechan to stare at hungrily while you sit across from him at an ice cream shop.

You know people have to spot the two of you as you play these risky games. But if they do, no one makes it obvious.

Until one day.

You know for certain that an older man — mid-forties and handsome, his hair just beginning to get a bit silver at the temples, wearing a suit that is perfectly tailored to him — catches you during brunch one morning.

It’s a small, crowded cafe. You’re in the back corner, but there are still a decent amount of tables around you, enough that it’s quite risky when you lean forward with your elbows on the table, revealing to Haechan the way that your dress has “accidentally slipped” and both of your tits peek out over the top of your dress.

“Goddamn it,” Haechan groans. “You’re gonna do this to me now?” He glances around. “We haven’t even gotten our food yet.”

“And?” You do your best to maintain a face of perfect innocence even as your nipples grow hard beneath Haechan’s attention and the cool air of the cafe. “That just means we have more time for fun.”

You slide one foot out of your sandal, and you lift it into Haechan’s lap. He reaches down, curling his hand around your ankle as your toes explore along the length of his thigh, dipping against the front of his pants until you find the rise of his cock. Of course he’s already half-hard from the sight of your tits. And as you caress him with your toes and the arch of your foot beneath the table, as he keeps looking at your tits, Haechan only grows harder.

You pull your dress back up over your chest when the waitress returns, sliding your brunch onto the table, replacing your half-drained mimosas. But you leave your foot in Haechan’s lap. There’s a table cloth draped over the table anyway, so it’s not like she notices anything amiss. But after she walks away, after one of the few tables around you in this back corner finishes their brunch and leaves as well, you tug your dress down enough that your tits are at risk of spilling out. You keep your foot moving over Haechan’s erection straining against the front of his pants.

Someone nearby loudly clears their throat, but you don’t look away from your plate. Haechan however tenses up a little, his hand squeezing your ankle. But he doesn’t push you away, doesn’t tell you to stop. So you keep going, eating and enjoying your brunch while you also enjoy getting your boyfriend off.

Haechan ordered more food than you, so he takes longer to eat. You’re completely finished when he’s only about halfway done. And since you are somewhat bored, you pull your top back up and instead put all of your attention into what you’re doing in his lap instead. Haechan, to his credit, only twitches a little when your toes suddenly find the zipper of his pants, when you pinch the zipper between your toes and drag it down. The button fastening his pants is a little harder to navigate, but luckily he helps you out with that, reaching down and quickly flicking it open so you can get your toes there to stroke him over his underwear now.

“What is it that you want here?” Haechan asks. He glances around, his eyes lingering a little extra long on a table to your left.

“Take it out,” you tell him.

Haechan’s attention lowers to his plate, his lips curving upwards as he asks, “And then what?”

“Then that’s up for you to decide.” You draw your foot out of his lap. “But if you finish your brunch and finish yourself, I may have a special gift for you later.”

Usually Haechan is in charge of special gifts for you. You don’t usually give him things, rather allowing him to dote on you. Over the weeks that have suddenly stretched into months since this relationship began, you’ve fallen a lot more comfortably into the idea of Haechan being in charge, Haechan being dominant. Not that he’s extremely dominating or anything like that, but he likes taking care of you, likes being in charge and seeing you submit to him — though sometimes that means fucking you until you’re crying and letting him do pretty much anything he wants until you spit out a safeword; sometimes it means something entirely non-sexual like just letting him baby you and take care of you after a long day with cuddles and a nice warm shower; and then in either a sexual or non-sexual situation he gives you gifts, just little things that range from a snack to a sex toy.

But overall, you’re not the one with special surprises for him. So this catches his attention.

You can tell the moment when the hand Haechan drops into his lap frees his cock. You can tell by the ease of his shoulders, the quick flicker in his eyes when he glances around at the surrounding tables. He’s tucked up beneath the table cloth, but you’re sure he’s wondering if they can still tell what he’s doing. This is more exposure than Haechan is used to. Typically it’s you exposing yourself while Haechan watches or touches. The roles are reversed this morning, and you can’t even see him touching himself really. But you can see it in his face, you can see the movement in his arm, feel the shuffle of his feet beneath the table as they bump against yours in an effort to maybe hide his actions even more beneath the table, and you can hear the way his breathing changes as he strokes his cock with one hand while attempting to maintain a semblance of normalcy by continuing to eat his brunch with the other hand.

You watch Haechan’s expression, noting the way that he’s quickly edging up to his breaking point. He drops his fork to his plate, lifting his hand instead into a fist in front of his mouth. His eyes snag on yours, telling you without words that he’s about to cum.

Your elbow knocks into your own plate, dislodging your utensils. The knife falls to the floor, and before Haechan has time to react, you drop to the floor. Your fingertips bump against the knife, pushing it deeper under the table, and you sink beneath the table cloth on your hands and knees. And come face to face with exactly what you’d hoped to see.

Haechan’s hand looks beautiful as he pumps his pink-tipped erection.

To his credit, Haechan only barely flinches when you lean in, lifting a hand to take over from his, and you put your mouth right over his tip to suck. Just a couple pumps of your hand along his length, and Haechan cums, spilling on your tongue.

You’re a good girl, as he tells you all the time, so you swallow it all down.

You even tuck his cock away again before grabbing the knife from the floor and climbing out from under the table into your seat.

And that’s when you notice the suited older man watching you. Haechan spots him too. You both know you’re caught, and Haechan immediately blushes with embarrassment.

It’s when the man doesn’t look away that the blush fades from Haechan’s cheeks, and instead anger begins to paint his expression. By that point you’re sitting fully back in your seat, your back to the man, and the pair of you are waiting for the waitress to come back after you’ve given her Haechan’s card to pay. But it’s clear in the way that Haechan keeps looking over at the man, with your boyfriend’s expression growing darker and darker, that the man is still looking.

Haechan is not an overly jealous man – he has admitted to you on more than one occasion that he still sometimes thinks about you with Renjun, even rewatches that video in his phone when he can’t be with you, and it’s not jealousy he feels in those moments but intense arousal – but sometimes he can’t help displaying a bit of jealousy and possessiveness. And that morning is one of those moments.

The man gets up to leave before the waitress returns with Haechan’s credit card. You watch Haechan’s expression as he looks the man up and down as he approaches your table on his way out, and then to your surprise the man pauses right beside you.

You’re tense. Haechan looks ready to spring.

The man slides some cash onto the table right in front of you. And then he touches your shoulder, saying in a greasy tone, “For the show, darling.”

Haechan shoves angrily back from the table, but his face is impassive as he reaches over and calmly removes the man’s hand from your shoulder. “Don’t touch her.”

The man snorts derisively.

The waitress obliviously slides Haechan’s card back onto the table and bustles off to one of her other tables. You grab the card, grab the cash the man slipped you, and you stand up.

“For the record,” you tell the man, “I’m not a whore, but I will take your fucking money.”

You pocket Haechan’s card and the man’s cash, step clear around the man, and take Haechan’s hand.

You leave the cafe quickly, hoping to get clear away from the man. This is of course a risk of doing anything sexual in public — getting caught by a pervert. It was one thing when the pervert you hoped to be caught by was Haechan, but a perfect stranger who feels entitled to come up and speak to you? To touch you? To pay you as if you’re a common whore?

Haechan fumes beside you the whole walk back to where you parked your car. And as soon as you’re alone behind the cover of your car’s tinted windows, he reaches over the center console and cups your face in both of his hands, dragging you into a ferociously possessive kiss.

You lay off the exhibitionism for a short time after that. You take the time to truly savor having each other in the privacy of your bedroom or his. You kinda chill it on the crazy sexual hormones then for a bit as you slip out of the honeymoon phase of your relationship where everything still feels brand new and exciting and you’re both constantly horny for each other. Instead, you focus a little more on work to aim for a promotion that Johnny has been hinting someone will be receiving. And when that time arrives, and the promised promotion is given to you over everyone else, you celebrate with Haechan.

You take him out to dinner somewhere nice where the two of you gorge yourselves with delicious, rich food and sweet wine. For dessert, you feast on each other at home in your apartment, savoring each last bit of each other until you collapse in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs in your bedsheets.

You don’t leave bed the next morning, just pick up where you left off the night before. You forget everything that morning except for the taste of Haechan’s skin, the feel of him inside you, the sound of his breath and his moans and your name from his tongue.

Both of you are still deeply caught up in each other, though in a more gentle and intimate fashion as he holds you against his chest beneath the covers, rolling his hips forward while he buries his face in your hair.

To anyone who might happen upon the scene, it could maybe almost look like you’re just spooning while oversleeping late into the morning.

Or at least that’s what you hope it looks like when your family surprises you by dropping in for a somewhat unannounced visit.

Truthfully, you’d just forgotten that you had plans with them that day, that they were in the city to visit with you. You’d thought any plans you had would be much later in the day, but also you had certainly lost track of time all tangled up with Haechan.

So when your bedroom door suddenly opens and you look up into the faces of your parents and one sibling, you pray to every god that anyone has ever believed in that your family members don’t realize that Haechan is currently balls-deep inside you.

It’s your dad that reacts first.

He laughs and then backs out of the room, pushing your sibling behind him, pulling your mom along too. The door closes.

“Fucking shit. Oh my god. Haechan….” You make a valiant attempt at suffocating yourself in your pillow.

Haechan laughs a little, although the sound is halfway between amusement and awkwardness. He pulls out of you, rolling over to the edge of your bed. He starts getting dressed, but you don't move until Haechan slides back in bed with you, his hand stroking along your spine.

“Let’s go face your family.” He whispers, placing a kiss right behind your ear. “Maybe they’ll be so proud of your promotion they’ll forget what they just walked in on.”

Doubtful.

“I can’t go out there,” you groan into the pillow.

Haechan makes a sympathetic noise. “Should I at least go introduce myself?”

You twist around, catching his hands in yours. “No! You can’t go out there either!”

Now he fully laughs at you, dipping down to kiss you briefly. “You’d rather we stay in here and they think that we’re still having sex even though they’re sitting in your living room, baby? Come on, get up.”

You get dressed quickly, and you leave the bedroom first. Haechan lingers behind.

Your family is arrayed on the furniture in the living room, and you curse yourself mentally for ever giving them a copy of the key to your apartment. Your sibling is still laughing, and your parents are silently communicating with each other through a series of facial expressions and direct eye contact.

Only once you sit down across from them do any of them actually look at you. And a second later when your dad’s eyes slip behind you toward the direction of your bedroom door, you know that Haechan has emerged.

“This is Haechan,” you announce, “My boyfriend.”

That causes a few raised eyebrows. You’ve mentioned Haechan several times over the years, and within the last couple of months you’ve definitely mentioned that you’re dating someone. You’d just not ever told them that Haechan and your boyfriend were one and the same.

Haechan comes to sit right beside you, immediately reaching for your hand to hold one in both of his. You try to tuck away a rising smile as you notice the way his fingers are trembling nervously.

“Hello,” he nods, greeting your family. “Nice to meet you all.”

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, glancing over at you. Now you really smile at him, unable to hold it back. Yeah, this is kinda awkward having your family meet him right after they walked in on you together, but with Haechan by your side, you know it’ll be alright.

And it certainly is.

Haechan charms them spectacularly. It probably helps that he spends the entire day praising you, boasting to them about how you just received a promotion at the Neo Corporation where you work together. Apparently his constant adoration of you makes the fact that they walked in on you and him this morning okay. How can your parents disapprove when Haechan puts on his best face with them?

He makes recommendations for a place for all of you to grab dinner later that evening, and he compliments both of your parents and cracks jokes with your sibling, and every chance he gets, he holds your hand or puts his arm around you, looking hopelessly devoted and in love with you.

He completely wins your family over.

Later that night after dinner, Haechan goes back to his own apartment. Tonight you’ll be sleeping separately for the first time in weeks, and the thought of that is slightly upsetting, but your family comes back to your apartment with you.

There’s some maintenance thing that your dad agrees to help you and your roommate with, and she’s better with tools than you are. She’s back at the apartment by that point, so she assists your dad with the project. Your sibling watches, and you and your mom sit in the living room to talk.

“He’s nice.” Your mom has been quiet for a while when she says that, and after a split second pause, she clarifies, “Haechan. He’s a good boy.”

“He is,” you agree. Nevermind all of his qualities that you’re quite intimate with that would definitely make him fall into a Not Good Boy category if your mom knew about them.

She smiles. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with anyone before. Smitten. You’ve always kind of had a look in your eye when you’ve talked about him. Even years ago, when you went away for school, you would FaceTime us and tell us stories about your friends, and you would get this smile on your face when you mentioned him.” She laughs lightly and gestures at your face, “It’s the same smile you’ve had all day when you look at him. Back then I knew it was only a matter of time, but I never thought it would take this long for your little crush to become something more.”

“Trust me,” you sigh, “Neither did I. I was resigned to just being his friend, but then he finally made a move.”

Your mom nods. “How long has it been?”

“A few months.” You can’t believe that the time has passed by so quickly. The first kiss still feels fresh in your mind, the first date like it’s just happened although the temperature has long since turned from the bitter cold it had been that night.

“You look happy,” she comments, and you notice a shimmer of emotion in her eyes as she says, “I’m so happy for you. He seems really good for you, and even if your dad teases you about him, just know that he really likes him too.”

That blooms a warm feeling in your chest. Not that you need your family’s approval to validate your relationship with Haechan, but it certainly still feels really good to know that they’re happy that you’re happy with him.

“Just, please,” your mom laughs, “Don’t think I’m rushing you when I say that I would love some cute grandbabies sooner rather than later.”

“Mom!”

With the pair of you taking a step back from the riskiness of public sex, you decide to instead explore some other interests of yours and his in the safety and privacy of your apartments.

Haechan wants to try out a bit of consensual non-consent, which here means him surprising you while you’re asleep, doing what he wants to you — light touches to turn you on without waking you up, his fingers buried inside you while he feeds you just the tip of his cock.

You were intrigued by the idea of being a toy for him, so you agreed on the condition that you wanted to know afterwards what he’d done.

Haechan filmed it so you could see how he took his time exploring your body, leaving hickeys scattered across your belly. He played with your tits for a while before he started to finger you, and that was when he finally hit the point where he seemingly couldn’t take it any longer, and he just had to feel your lips around his cock.

You’d woken as soon as he came down your throat, startled awake, coughing and gagging on the taste of it.

You’d returned the favor a few days later, curious about what it was like to play with someone sleeping.

Haechan had stayed out late the night before, letting himself into your apartment at half past three. He’d passed out on your bed, and stayed in exactly that position from that moment until even after you woke around eight o’clock.

He was unaware of the world around him, and when you knelt on the floor beside his side of your bed, he’d not even twitched as you pulled away the covers to free his dick to your access. You kissed his thighs and hips, stroked your fingers along his inner thighs.

And then you’d given him your mouth. Kisses along his cock from balls to tip. You’d used your hand to touch him too while you moved your mouth to his chest to tease his nipples. Haechan’s cock swelled in your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel powerful to have him reacting to you like this even while he was asleep.

Is this how he felt when he did this to you?

You blew him, pausing when he would move or when he would make noise. You didn’t want him to wake up yet, you wanted to savor this opportunity to do what you pleased with him. Such as when you got him flat on his back, you kneeling between his legs, your tongue tasting the salty precum at his slit, and you’d slipped a wet finger down to just glide over his asshole.

Haechan had moaned, loud enough that you thought he’d woken. But a moment later he’d settled again, and once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you dug a condom out from beneath your bed, and you climbed up to straddle his cock. You put the condom on him before you sunk down on Haechan’s cock, and you were glad you’d thought of the condom.

The moment that Haechan registered the weight and warmth and tightness of your pussy swallowing his cock, he woke up. His hands grasped at your hips, he thrust up into you, impaling you on his cock. He made it clear that your moment of being in charge had passed.

Quite literally, Haechan flipped things around.

Your shoulders hit the mattress, and he fucked you as if he hadn’t been asleep just moments before. Haechan fucked you while he scolded you for being a slut, for having fun with him while he slept, degrading you which only excited you more.

In the end, it turns out that you both kinda like that sort of sleepy sex.

You explore angry, hateful sex, too.

Your first big argument comes in late April at Jeno’s birthday party. You and Haechan turn heads with the ferocity of your argument, but fifteen minutes later, you’re fucking Haechan in the bathroom, riding him on the toilet until he picks you up, spins you around, and fucks you against the bathroom wall. He’s rough in exactly the way you wanted him to be when you angrily dragged him in here, when you attacked him with biting kisses.

He leaves bruises at your hips, yanking at your hair, he even closes a hand around your throat, applying pressure just perfectly to make your body thrill with excitement, your orgasm overtaking you. You like it a little rough and angry, the way that he bites and pulls and grabs in the moment, followed by tender kisses and apologies, a warm embrace and a conversation about how to resolve whatever your argument has been about.

You explore the properly dirty type of sex, too.

On the most brutal day of your period, you’re absolutely miserable. Cramps and a headache, emotional and horny and hungry. All the worst of your symptoms it seems are rolled into this one day.

But Haechan is the best.

When you’re laid up at his apartment in his bed, he gets up to grab snacks to satisfy your hunger. He gets a heating pad to help your cramps, a cold compress for your headache. There’s not much he can do to help ease the annoying mood swings you’re dealing with, but the horniness….

“I don’t mind,” Haechan tells you when you whine about how what you’re craving isn’t the snack he just brought you but rather an orgasm. “I can help you with that, babe.”

You move the cold compress away from where you had it covering your eyes. “Don’t be gross, Donghyuck.”

He makes a face at the sound of his full name. “It’s not gross,” he argues. “I’m not gonna eat you out, but I don’t see why I can’t help you cum if you think it’ll make you feel better. We have a variety of options.” He holds up his hand, ticking the options off as he lists them. “You can just dry hump me, ride my thigh. I could just use my fingers. I could get one of your toys. I could just fuck you; I don’t mind getting a little messy.”

You just stare at him for a moment, dealing with an internal conflict of giving in to your base desires and letting Haechan get you off, or you could save yourself the embarrassment of Haechan getting disgusted the moment that your pants are off.

“Please?” Haechan asks, “You know I love you. I just want to make you feel good.”

“And this has absolutely nothing to do with how horny you were complaining you were yesterday before I told you I’d started my period?”

Haechan’s grin grows. “I didn’t say I was offering for only your benefit, angel.”

“Go grab a towel at least.” You roll your eyes a little, but inside your heart is racing with excitement. In the past, the guys you’ve been with have all been utterly disgusted by your period, bummed out that they wouldn’t be having sex with you for a week because period sex would be too gross. You’ve never had a guy be as attentive to you during your period as Haechan has been over these months you’ve been together, and certainly none of them have ever been as interested in having period sex as he is. But you shouldn’t be too surprised. He’s a pervert, enjoying these things others often find off-putting.

When Haechan returns with a towel, you rearrange so you’re lying on top of the towel.

“What would you like?” Haechan asks, kneeling there patiently. “Which of the options?”

You roll your eyes at him again. “Just come kiss me, then I’ll decide.”

Haechan lets you take control. He sinks in against your side as you curl an arm behind his head, drawing him in deeper for your kiss. He drapes an arm over your belly while you lift a leg to curl it over his hip. The two of you tangle yourselves together, sinking into the kiss and into each others’ bodies. You play with Haechan’s hair as you kiss him, languid kisses tasting sweet and syrupy, building the heat between you. You can feel him growing hard against you, you can feel your heartbeat throbbing between your legs as your arousal grows. And when you’ve finally reached the point where you can’t just lie still anymore, you start rocking your hips.

With your leg slung over Haechan’s side, his thigh is bent forward between your legs, and when you rock your hips, you’re rocking right against his strong thigh.

You sigh into the kiss, and Haechan smiles.

“Does it feel good?” He kisses the corner of your mouth, and when you nod, he says, “Keep going.”

And you do. Your body moves on autopilot, like you’re starved and insatiable, just taking what you need, what your body desperately craves. You hump Haechan’s thigh as he sponges kisses along your jaw, as he murmurs praises and encouragements. “That’s a good girl,” he breathes against your ear, and, “Just like that, angel.”

Haechan lets you take what you need, and when the sweet friction from humping his thigh carries you over the edge with a cry, he drops his hands to your hip and keeps you moving until you’re whining from sensitivity, but you’re still not finished.

“More,” you beg, twisting your fingers in the front of his shirt. There are tears burning from the corners of your eyes as you keep grinding against Haechan’s thigh, but it’s not enough. You still need more.

“I can give you more.” Haechan rolls you over flat onto your back, and he pulls away from you which is the exact opposite of what you were asking for. He reaches down and pulls his shirt over his head, and then he reaches for the waistband of the sweatpants you’re wearing, and when you lift your hips, he drags them down your legs. The tank top you’re wearing is next; Haechan draws it over your head, tossing it aside in the same moment that he kisses you again. His hands rise to your bare tits, drawing a new whine of sensitivity from you.

“Careful,” you moan. “They’re sore.”

“Sorry, baby,” Haechan apologizes, lowering his head to place a kiss over each nipple. And then a little kitten-lick to one, his lips and tongue warm and soft against your sensitive nipples, his hand gentle and warm on the other breast.

Your tits are so sensitive it doesn’t take long for your heart to be thundering, your body pulsing with hot need, your chest arching against Haechan’s lips.

All it takes is a desperate whine and your hand lightly pressing against the top of his head for Haechan to leave your tits and start mouthing his way down over your ribs and your belly. And then he reaches for your panties to remove them.

“Wait,” you exhale, grappling for his wrist.

Haechan freezes, face hovering above your belly, his fingers tucked into the elastic of your panties ready to pull them down. He looks up at you.

“You don’t have to do this,” you reassure him. You don’t want him to feel like he has to have sex with you just because you’re horny right now. You’re gonna be a mess down there.

Haechan just smiles. “You’re not making me do anything I don’t want to do. This isn’t gross, which I know you’re worried about. It’s hot. I promise.”

You let your fingers go loose around his wrist, but Haechan waits until you nod, until you murmur, “Keep going,” for him to move again. He pulls your panties down, and you wish you could say that it was super weird and uncomfortable to have your boyfriend’s hand between your thighs removing your hygiene product. It should feel awkward as Haechan does that, but looking down at his face as he looks up at you while smoothly doing just that, you’re just lost in the moment.

Haechan climbs off the bed for a moment, walking over to the en-suite bathroom. You don’t even want to think about the fact that he’s going in there to dispose of your used sanitary product, because if you think about that for even a second you’ll be too embarrassed. So you think about the sound of Haechan rummaging around in the bathroom for a moment, and when he comes back, he’s brought a condom with him.

“For a little more ease of cleanup,” he explains. “I don’t want to have to clean period blood off my dick. No offense.” He’s teasing, but you groan and cover your face with your hands. Haechan laughs, reaching for your wrists to pry your hands away. “I’m only joking, babe. Do you still want to keep going?”

Of course you do. You’re a bit embarrassed, but more than that, you’re still incredibly horny.

“Yes, I want to keep going.”

You eagerly pull Haechan back between your legs, barely waiting for him to stop and roll the condom down his length. But then he’s there, and he’s sinking into you, and you forget everything else. You forget your headache, your cramps, your hunger. You forget every mood other than just this — the arousal, the love, the endless need to just have Haechan.

You can’t even say that it’s weird or all that different to be having sex while on your period. Haechan doesn’t make it weird, so it’s not weird. And even if there is some slight discomfort for a moment, it goes away, quickly overcome because of Haechan’s hard-earned knowledge of what you like. Sure, it’s a little messy, and you’re glad you put the towel down, but it’s not the massacre you’d been imagining. It’s as wonderful as you could’ve hoped for.

“See, no problem,” Haechan had told you afterward.

You continue exploring kinks and fetishes, trying things out, falling deeper in love with Haechan, in awe of this pervert who loves you and you love in return.

You never have to question if you love him. It’s just something innate, something you know as well as if it were just always a part of you, just built into your DNA. And you know he loves you too. Haechan doesn’t miss any opportunity to tell you so, not since the first time you said it to each other. You don’t question it.

As spring begins to bridge into summer in May, there are questions.

Your lease on your apartment is about up. Haechan’s is up at the end of June. So the question of moving in together properly comes up. And with that comes more talking, discussing, theorizing and dreaming and just lots and lots of future-talk. Talks about wants and desires.

One day during May, you’re shopping together, looking for new clothes to wear on the trip you’ve planned to take with your friends in July. The shopping center you’re in is busy, full of other couples, of young families. The shops all have vibrant, summery displays and bold signage announcing sales.

You pass by a nice menswear shop, their window display showcasing a stunning tuxedo and a row of groomsmen in dapper suits.

“I want to get married,” Haechan says casually as you pass the shop together. “I’ve always thought that I can’t wait to be a husband and a father someday. I’ve never given too much thought to the actual details, honestly, like the wedding or any of that. But being a husband, having a family, being a dad…” He smiles brightly, then says, “I want to raise a kid who knows that I’ll always be there for them, love and support them unconditionally. What about you?”

You’ve talked about kids with Haechan before. In vague terms. Like when you would be out together and see a baby or little kid, commenting on the kid being adorable, laughing at their behavior. When a coworker had a baby and she brought it into the office to visit, you’d both taken turns holding the baby and talked about it later.

But you’ve never really talked about wanting kids. More specifically, you’ve never really talked about wanting to have kids together.

You certainly never told him about your mom’s comment from just after they first met him, the comment about wanting cute grandbabies from you and him. It’s a comment she’s reiterated a few more times to you since then.

Haechan is looking at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I think most girls dream of their wedding, a spouse, a family. I used to look up wedding dresses online when I was still far too small to even know what kind of dress I could fit into someday. I would picture my celebrity crushes waiting for me at the end of the aisle, flower petals cascading from the sky.” You laugh, and Haechan smiles right along with you. “I used to think up lists of baby names and imagine what it would be like to hold a little life in my arms that I’d created.”

You wonder if Haechan notices all the past tense in the way you’re speaking. The hesitance when you speak of children.

Babies used to be something you were once so certain of. When you were young, before your eyes had been entirely opened to the world, it wasn’t something you ever thought twice about. Of course you would someday have babies. Why wouldn’t you?

But growing up meant seeing things from different perspectives, having realities laid out before you. Some people couldn’t have babies, some people chose not to have them. Sometimes terrible things happen. Sometimes pregnancy can feel alienating. You’d heard of childbirth as a blessing and a curse from friends, coworkers, acquaintances over the years, and as time passed, as you moved through your life and reached the point in time in which having a child would be appropriate, you still weren’t sure what you wanted.

Did you hope to become a mom? Did you want to carry a child if you could? Having a child in your life, especially with the right person beside you was an obvious yes, but sometimes you weren’t entirely sure if carrying a child was the right option for you; maybe you would give birth someday, maybe you would adopt, or maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Right then, with Haechan still looking at you, you only know that you want him.

Always.

Everything else can wait.

“I don’t mean any of this right now, by the way,” Haechan clarifies a few moments later. “Just… putting it out there.”

And you felt the usual sunshine-warm glow in your chest, thinking that this conversation was a good sign. These future talks you’d been having were a good sign.

The thought of getting married to Haechan makes you giddy. Is he thinking of marrying you too? Is he making plans, and that’s why he’d mentioned it?

You wrap yourself in that warm feeling and let it carry you through the next few days.

Work is busy throughout the month of May. So busy that you don’t get to see much of Haechan inside or outside of work. You have to travel abroad for research purposes, and the distance makes your heart ache. You hate being apart from Haechan, hate that you’re stuck in another country with only Taeyong as a companion for two weeks in the middle of the month.

Long distance isn’t really anything you’ve had to try before, but you try to make it work. You call Haechan, he calls you; you exchange messages as often as you can. But there’s a time difference, which means that he’s often asleep while you’re awake, or you’re bogged down with work when he’s free.

“I miss you,” you sigh over the phone late one night once you’re tucked back in your hotel room for the night.

It’s eleven o’clock at night in London where you are, but it’s early back in Seoul, and you know your call probably woke Haechan up. He just mumbles something sleepily into the phone.

“I’m back at the end of the week.” You fight back a yawn. “I’m thinking of taking the week of your birthday off, honestly, because I’m sick of seeing Taeyong's face.”

That at least draws a little laugh from Haechan. “I’m already taking that week off,” he murmurs, “Take it off with me.”

“Should I?”

Haechan hums a small sound of agreement.

“If I do take it off, what should we do? Should we take a trip together? Get out of the city for the week?” You cradle the phone against your cheek, trying your best to not look at the time displayed on the clock sitting on the bedside table. You have to be awake in a few hours for a breakfast business meeting, but you want to have a moment with Haechan.

Haechan is quiet for a few seconds too long, and you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep.

“Hyuck?” You keep your voice soft, just in case.

“Uh, I’m not sure about any plans yet.” He clears his throat. “I don’t…. I don’t know. Listen, I’ve gotta go. I just realized the time and remembered that I’m supposed to head into the office early today.”

Abruptly, he ends the call.

Weird.

You try not to dwell on it too much as you settle in to sleep. You try not to let the memory of it bother you in the morning, or throughout the rest of the day. But it’s difficult to brush off the weirdness of Haechan’s behavior ending that phone call when his behavior over the last few days of your business trip is weird too. Long gaps between responses to your messages, excuses to not answer your phone calls.

And finally, at the end of the week, you and Taeyong fly back to Seoul.

Haechan picks you up from the airport, sitting there waiting in a pick-up zone. He waves at Taeyong cheerily enough as your coworker heads off for his own pick-up. He kisses you like he’s never missed anyone more, and he holds your hand the entire drive back to your apartment, listening to you chatter about the two weeks you were gone in Dubai.

“Oh, and Johnny approved my days off!” As he pulls in to park, the words fall out of you excitedly, and you squeeze his hand. “So whatever you want to do for your birthday, babe, let’s do it!”

Haechan’s fingers wiggle against yours. He looks around, checking his mirrors as if to make sure that he’s within the lines. “That’s good, baby,” is all he says. His eyes dart towards yours and then away again, and he withdraws his hand from yours to turn the car off.

Odd.

You continue to try not to let it bother you.

You try to ignore it, to just pretend like Haechan isn’t acting distant over the next few days. You tell yourself that it’s just the stress of work because in this interim week between your trip and his birthday week, Haechan has several important meetings and three separate project deadlines. Obviously, that is where the majority of his focus is all week, and that’s why when you ask him to come look at a new apartment availability with you, he tells you that he can’t.

You look forward to Thursday. His heavy workload — the last big meeting and project presentation of his falls on Thursday, so he should feel that relief and hopefully get over this strange distance that has grown between you this week.

After Thursday, it’s just Friday, which should be smooth sailing right into the weekend, and then, luckily, it will be Haechan’s birthday week, the exact day landing on Tuesday. You’re ready to spend the week with him, to give him a birthday to remember.

Thursday evening as you finish up in the office, you make up your mind to go over to Haechan’s tonight.

You’re going to pick up some food on your way. You’re going to shower and steal some of his comfiest clothes (although you do have a decent amount of your own clothes stored at his apartment) and eat together while you watch a drama. You’re going to start this weekend a little early with relaxation tonight, and you’ll take it easy tomorrow.

He’s already home by the time you’re leaving the office (a call with the team in Dubai meant hanging around the office a little bit later than you’d have really liked), and when you arrive at Haechan and YangYang’s apartment, he’s in his bedroom, playing games online.

Haechan offers up his cheek for you to kiss, hums an acknowledgement when you mention that you brought dinner but you want to shower first, and then you notice the way his eyes keep darting away from the game he’s playing to follow you around his bedroom as you strip on your way to the bathroom that’s not even connected to his bedroom.

And several minutes later when you return, he’s done playing the game, but he’s still sitting in the desk chair, on his phone.

Again, you notice his eyes following you as you move around. You notice the way his lips part when you drop the towel you’d had wrapped around you, the way he can’t look away as you stride around fully naked towards his closet. He watches you sort through his T-shirts and find one you like. Haechan makes a small throat-clearing noise when you bury your nose in the fabric, breathing in the smell of him before you pull the shirt on over your head.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you bend over, flashing him your ass beneath the shirt. You’re maybe doing this bit on purpose, stepping slowly into your panties, sliding them up your legs, all while bent over and showing off your ass and pussy to him.

But when you straighten up and look back at him, Haechan looks away, back down to his phone.

His phone seems to hold a lot of his attention, you notice as the night continues.

You sit out in the living room together on the sofa, eating the food you��d brought, watching a drama together. Or rather, you’re watching the drama while Haechan looks at his phone with an empty sofa cushion between you.

It feels like miles of blank space.

And you can’t pretend anymore that you’re not bothered.

Usually Haechan would be the first one to close that gap, unable to resist touching you. He would usually have to have a hand on your bare thigh or his arm around your shoulders to brush his fingers up and down your upper arm. He would have to pull you into his side or against his chest or drag you down so you’re both lying down with him spooning you from behind.

But tonight.

It’s you, him, and his phone.

You sigh loud enough it should’ve caught his attention.

He taps his fingers against the back of his phone, glances up at the drama playing, and then looks right back to his phone.

The longer this goes on, the more you feel like he’s just avoiding you. The more you begin to think that maybe the distance between you this last week and a half hasn’t solely been because of work. But what is it? Is there something on his mind that he just isn’t telling you? His silent distance, specifically his distraction with his phone, bothers you more and more the longer it goes on. One episode ends and a new one begins, and Haechan is still looking at his phone, still ignoring the heavy way you sigh in a subtle grab for his attention.

You begin reading into the silence, seeking answers, seeking attention.

So you do the one thing you know will grab Haechan’s attention and hold it.

Sex.

Haechan is slouched down on the opposite end of the sofa from you, his head propped up on a throw pillow against the arm of the sofa. His phone still holds his attention, but as you climb forward, climbing up the length of his legs, Haechan looks up at you.

At last.

“What’re you doing?” His smile grows slowly.

“I think it’s pretty clear,” you tell him, coming up to straddle his hips, sitting down right in his lap. You slide your hands up his chest. “I had my dinner, now I want dessert. I want you, Haechan.”

Haechan tsks at you. His phone calls to the side, forgotten on the cushion at his shoulder.

“Always horny, aren’t you, my love? What am I to do with you? Just give you what you want?” As he says it, Haechan reaches for your thighs, smoothly dragging you from your spot in his lap now up his chest while he slides even lower to be lying flat on his back. “Baby, maybe I want a taste of my dessert,” he croons, his hands making quick work of pushing up the oversized shirt of his that you’re wearing.

His hands are on your chest before you can get a word out. His fingers tease your nipples, palms warm against the softness of your breasts.

His phone vibrates at your knee. Once, twice, a third time.

Haechan is finally distracted by you and doesn’t seem to notice the notifications lighting up his phone screen. But you do. Who is texting him?

You risk a glance towards the illuminated screen, and see a cluster of message notifications. For a split second, your heart does a weird flippy floppy act, and then you read the name at the top of the notifications: Eomma-ya.

His mom.

Another one comes in, but you can’t read the messages themselves, and at this point you don’t need to. It’s not any of your business, and you relax, letting some of the tension ease out of you, your body reacting eagerly to Haechan’s touches now that your worries have been somewhat assuaged in knowing that it’s just his mom that he’s been messaging.

Haechan, all of his focus on you now, pinches one of your nipples in a way that sends a jolt of lusty heat right down to your core.

You whimper quietly, just “Haechan” before all words melt on your tongue when Haechan drags your panties to the side and starts touching you. His fingers tease along your slit, never giving you quite what you want. He keeps it going until you’re dripping, arousal clinging to his fingers, a few drops leaking down to dampen the front of his shirt. And all the while he’s doing this, Haechan watches you with this amused, almost predatory look.

He watches and waits until he can see that you’re right there on the edge of cumming, and he withdraws his hand. He waits a few moments while you whine and squirm on top of him, and then his fingers are back, drawing intense circles on your clit, edging you right back to where you were before but then he backs off again. Several times he does this until you’re actually starting to get pissed off, but then instead of pulling his hands away from you, he slides down fully onto his back on the sofa, and Haechan drags you up until you’re straddling his face.

“Go on, baby. Take what you want.” Haechan licks his lips as he says it, and then he leaves his mouth parted, pink tongue laying against his plush lips.

There’s only one thing you want in that moment and it’s to sit on his face and ride his tongue until your body goes numb from the overstimulation of orgasming. You want to cry his name, to squirt on his tongue, to leave your taste in his mouth for days.

Haechan moans when you sit on him, his arms wrap around you, holding you against his mouth as he eats you out, as you ride his tongue.

You alternate between tugging at Haechan’s hair (which only makes him moan exaggeratedly against your pussy) or clenching your hands in the shirt you’re wearing. Occasionally, you’ll look down and find Haechan already watching you, his dark eyes drinking in the awed look of pleasure on your face, or staring at your tits if you’ve got your shirt lifted that high. All you know is you feel high, electric, like your body and the entire world are just static, and each stroke of Haechan’s tongue is a shock to your system in the best way.

Your first orgasm feels weak, just a pulse of sweetness, barely enough for you to really feel before Haechan is doubling down, hands gripping your thighs to pull you down more heavily onto his face. Like he wants you to just suffocate him like this.

He doesn’t slow down at all, moaning against you as the taste of you continues to leak across his tongue, and you can’t help yourself as you essentially fuck his face, rocking your hips to feel his nose against your clit and his tongue buried deep inside you.

He’s moaning and you’re moaning, and it’s no wonder that neither of you hear the door to his apartment open until it’s too late, until YangYang is standing there in the door just staring at you losing control of yourself as another orgasm — this one so much more intense and fantastic — crashes through you.

He watches, and you notice him, but you decide not to pay him any attention. He can stay or he can leave, it really doesn’t bother you either way.

Haechan’s fingers only slightly loosen the tight hold on your thighs as he licks you through your orgasm. His cheeks are sticky against your thighs, lips sliding against your labia from where you’d squirted. You easily slide backwards, collapsing to sit on his belly. You let your shirt fall down to cover your panties again, and you push your fingers into Haechan’s hair, lower your head to his, and you kiss him, not caring about the mess you’d made on his face. You can taste yourself, but you don’t care, and besides, it seems like Haechan likes that.

Somewhere, YangYang clears his throat.

“Stay or leave, dude,” Haechan mumbles against your lips, the words just loud enough for YangYang to hear. “We’re not stopping.”

You don’t know what decision YangYang makes. You don’t hear anything to indicate one choice or the other, and you don’t look around the room either. You just sink against Haechan, sucking on his tongue, at his bottom lip, using your tongue to clean the taste of yourself from his chin.

Haechan twists you beneath him so he’s on top, pressing you into the sofa, and he peels your shirt off, tossing it over the back of the sofa, and then he has unrestricted access to your chest. Haechan attacks your tits with lips and teeth, his hands giving attention where his mouth doesn’t.

It’s all a hot blur of lips and skin and teeth and high heat when Haechan’s pants disappear between one breath and the next, your bodies colliding, and his cock filling you smoothly and perfectly. You clutch at his shoulders and bite at his neck while he fits into you, and you arch against him, trying to pull him closer, wanting him to smother you now between the somewhat rough material of the sofa and the smooth press of his skin.

At one point, he pulls away from you, and you sit up to follow, letting him manhandle you around onto your knees, facing the arm of the sofa as he fits himself against you from behind. He grips your arms up by your shoulders, and the way Haechan thrusts into you is so deep and rough that your teeth clack together and tears burn in your eyes, but you love it. You love the raw passion as he fucks you, and the way that he soon wraps his arms around you, drawing your back to his chest as he rolls his hips forward, dragging his cock in this gliding motion inside you, a slow, smooth pull in your belly that has you cumming again.

Haechan mouths at your throat while your walls pulse around his cock. You can feel sweat clinging to your skin, both from yourself and from him. His tongue drags up the line of your throat, from the base all the way up to just beneath your ear.

When Haechan takes your earlobe between his teeth, a pathetic sound spills out of you, one that you’re not even sure where it came from because you’ve never heard that sound before.

“He’s still watching,” Haechan whispers, his words right against your ear. “YangYang pretended like he just went to his room, but the door is still cracked open, and he probably doesn’t know that I can see his shadow pressed up against the door, watching.”

Your eyes flash open, shooting a look right towards YangYang’s door. It does stand partially ajar, but you couldn’t say if YangYang is standing there or not. He could just be making it up for your benefit, knowing how much you love the idea of being watched, how long it’s been since the two of you did something even slightly exhibitionist.

One of Haechan’s hands slides up to your throat, his skin burning against yours as he applies the perfect amount of pressure. “I don’t care if he watches,” Haechan growls, “Just so long as he knows who you belong to. Just as long as he knows this is just a pretty show, a one time ticket to view. Because whose are you, angel?”

His hand releases a little, and you breathe in deeply, more than happy to profess, “I’m yours,” with a sigh.

“Good girl.” Haechan brushes a kiss to your cheek. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Haechan.”

He lets you fall forward. Your ass is still lifted, but your cheek rests against the arm of the sofa as Haechan keeps thrusting forward, and you can feel yet another orgasm building inside you, the heat swelling in your belly as a tingling sensation spreads.

“That’s right, baby. We were made for each other. You’re mine.” He rolls his hips forward, grinding his cock in deep, a hand flat on your tailbone. “Fuck, say it for me?”

“I’m yours,” you whimper, already feeling the druglike pull of your orgasm as your vision whites out.

Haechan keeps moving, his movements speeding up as he races to follow you to his orgasm, and as soon as you realize that, a bolt of panic passes through you.

You lift onto your elbows. “Pull out! Pull out,” you moan, pulling yourself forward off his cock even as Haechan jerks backwards.

Your pussy clenches uselessly around nothing as Haechan’s cock leaves you, but a second later you feel the warm streaks of his cum paint your lower back, his moans accompanying the sensation.

Haechan falls over you, his weight only there for a moment before he’s shifting onto his side, his arms wrapped around you to pull you back against him. From this position, you have a clear look at YangYang’s door again. Now, it’s clearly shut.

“God, I’m glad we did that,” you sigh, “I was tired of you ignoring me for your phone. What was so interesting anyway?” You ask with a laugh, trying to keep it sounding lighthearted as you reach up to push your fingers into Haechan’s hair.

He tucks his face between your neck and your shoulder, humming a noncommittal sound. He just holds you like that for a little while until you swear it feels like your heartbeats and your breathing have synced with each other. It’s only after several minutes that he lifts his face from your neck.

“I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to be angry,” he says.

Already, not off to a great start.

You tense up, holding your breath. A feeling like an ice cold rod sets itself rigid down your spine. Why does he sound so serious? He was just texting his mom; you saw the new messages coming in from her, so what about that could make you angry? What is he going to say?

Haechan sighs, lowering his chin to rest on the curve of your shoulder. “I’m going home for a bit, a few days,” Haechan tells you, “To Jeju. My mom still lives there, and she wants me to come visit for my birthday this weekend.”

You almost let out a sigh of relief. You know that he can probably see the way that you actually relax, shoulders sinking down now with ease into the cushions. He’s just going to go visit his family for his birthday, and it’s probably about time. He’s told you about them, and you know he hadn’t seen them in a while.

It’s a good thing.

“Why would I be angry about that?” You lift a hand up to touch his hair as he lowers his mouth against your shoulder.

Of course, you wanted to spend his birthday with him. His first birthday while you’ve been together like this, but if he was going out of town and just wanted to spend time with his family, you understand.

“You took the week off,” Haechan says slowly. “You took it off at least in part because it’s my birthday. You wanted to make plans, but now my mom wants to decide on some different plans.”

You nod, wondering if that was all he had to say. That’s nothing big. Is this why he’s been distant since last week when you mentioned making plans for his birthday week? Had he already known that his mom wanted him to visit? Was he worried you were going to be upset that he’s going to Jeju? Or maybe he’s wanting to ask you to come along, to finally meet his family? The fact that he’s not saying anything, although you can almost hear his mind silently buzzing with unspoken words, reinforces your theory a bit.

But if he’s not going to ask then you will.

“When do I finally get to meet your family anyway?” You twist around to face him, trailing your fingers up his chest.

Haechan grabs your hand, pulling it away from where you reached his face. He clears his throat and looks over your shoulder into the middle-distance.

“What?” You laugh, twirling your fingers with his.

Haechan clears his throat again. Opens his mouth. Closes it. He mumbles, “I’m going to tell you something else. Please don’t be angry.”

The fact that he’s repeating that plea doesn’t bode well at all.

“Donghyuck?” An uncomfortable weight begins to settle through your belly. What’s his deal right now?

Silence for a beat.

He swallows hard.

“I haven’t told my family about you. That we’re… together. They don’t know I’m seeing anyone at all,” he blurts. And then as an afterthought, he tacks on, “Like I said, please don’t be angry.”

Don’t be angry.

Are you angry?

The feelings flooding through you don’t quite feel like anger — not that bright, burning bite of emotion — but something heavier and deeper, something that slides through your veins like an oil slick.

What does he mean he hasn’t told them about you? That they don’t know that you’re…. Together. And the way he’d hesitated when he said that?! What does that mean?

He’s your boyfriend! So what was with the hesitation?

You’re almost living together. Spending pretty much every single night together at one apartment or the other, with plans to find an apartment — and now you remember him backing out of the apartment viewing you’d found the other day — and move in together. He’s met your family, who adore him. You’ve talked about the future: marriage, family, kids, and dreams.

You’re in love with him and he often tells you he loves you, too.

But Haechan hasn’t even mentioned your relationship to his family.

You can’t believe it.

You draw yourself away from him, lifting yourself off the sofa.

“Are you mad?” Haechan asks again. You feel his fingertips brush against your tailbone.

“Am I mad? Are you fucking kidding, Haechan?” Ah, there you can feel a bit of anger flickering to life in your sternum, catching at the tail ends of your words.

Haechan can’t even look you in the eye as you stand above him.

“You haven’t told them about me? Can I ask why?” You’re trying to tame the anger in your voice, to keep that fiery heat from swelling inside you to an inferno, but it’s not working. “Is it because of me? You don’t actually want to be with me?”

“That’s stupid, of course that’s not it!” Haechan stares up at you, shock in his eyes before he looks away again, down at his hands. “I haven’t told them about you, about us, because I don’t want them to judge.”

And that only incenses you further.

The sound that leaves you is anger, frustration, and hurt all blended into one. A scream and a shout, a cry as you search the floor for the shirt of his you’d borrowed earlier.

You find it halfway tucked beneath the end of the sofa, and you snatch it up, drag it on.

“You don’t want your family to judge me? Fine. I guess it seems that you’ve already decided that they’ll find me lacking.” You know you’re shouting, but you can’t help it. Tears sting at your eyes, burning as the words fly from your mouth. “Fuck you, Lee Donghyuck.”

Behind you, there’s the sound of a door opening, and then YangYang’s voice asking, “What’s going on?”

You snort, spinning around to head for Haechan’s room, leaving him and YangYang behind in the living room. You can hear them speaking as you dig around in Haechan’s room for a clean pair of pants for you to wear.

When you walk back out a moment later, your bag on your shoulder, both of the men turn to look at you.

“Where are you going?” Haechan asks.

“I’m fucking leaving.” You stride past him.

“Fuck, Haechan,” YangYang groans. “I told you not to fuck things up with her! What the hell did you do?”

Before you reach the door, Haechan calls out your name. You pause, hand reaching for the door handle, waiting, but he doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t turn to look at him.

You wait, seconds tuck by, and still he remains silent behind you.

He can’t even ask you to stay? Not even that?

You open the door, and you leave.

Haechan doesn’t follow.

Friday morning, you call in sick to work.

In a way, you are sick.

You don’t want to see Haechan today, but at the same time you don’t not want to see him either. The two conflicting desires leave your stomach in knots.

He’s going to leave for Jeju today, spend the whole weekend and his birthday there with his family and not thinking about you. And you already know you’re going to spend the whole week only thinking of him. Maybe you’ll get drunk tonight and tomorrow and Sunday too. Or maybe every day of the week, since you’ve got the whole thing. Maybe you’ll drink until you can forget that Haechan doesn’t love you as much as you thought he did, that he must not actually dream of a future with you even though you’ve both talked about it.

You spent the whole night crying and choking down a quart of ice cream with your roommate and her partner comforting you.

You miss Haechan.

It’s been twelve hours and you miss him because you never argue with him and then don’t immediately make up. You’ve had big fights, but up until last night you’ve always made up shortly after. You’ve lived by the rule of never going to bed angry.

But last night you were angry and upset when you finally fell asleep, clutching your phone and wondering why he hasn’t called or texted.

Friday morning ticks by and you mope in bed, glancing at the clock, knowing you should get up, that you should shower and eat. But you can’t.

You ignore a call from Yuta at work, ignore a couple texts from YangYang. You consider letting your phone just die or putting it on do not disturb, but you can’t deny that you’re really hoping that one time when the phone rings or buzzes with a message notification that it’ll be Haechan.

He really just let you walk out of there last night.

He really hasn't told his family about you.

You roll over and hide your face in your pillow.

Some time later, a series of buzzes from your phone draws you out of the light doze you sank into. Your heart lifts, and when you check the screen you see….

YangYang.

What does he want? Why is he calling?

“Mm?” Is all the sound you can muster when you deign to answer the call.

“Hello?” YangYang says. “Are you there?”

“What, YangYang?” You hate the way your voice sounds right then. Like it’s clear that you’ve been crying all night and periodically over the past few hours.

You can hear YangYang walking around, trying not to make noise. And then he whispers, “I think you should come over here. He’s about to leave for the weekend.”

“Excuse me?” What exactly is YangYang asking you? Does he think that because he watched the two of you last night, because you let him watch last night, because you and Haechan had a big fight last night that you’ll just sneak over there to hook up with him as soon as Haechan leaves for a few days?

“What?” YangYang asks, and then a brief pause before he exclaims, “Oh! No, like…. I don’t mean….” He sighs, then clarifies, “I really think you should come over here, and Haechan is about to leave for Jeju, and I think you should go with him. He told me last night after you left what the real problem was. I thought you’d just finally found out what a freak he is, but he assured me that you know and you don’t care. That he’s just a fucking idiot who hasn’t told his mom that you’re his girlfriend. There's an obvious solution here.”

You grunt in acknowledgement. “But you’re the one asking me, not him.”

“Just come over.” YangYang’s tone doesn’t leave much room for arguing. “He’s an idiot, but surely you knew that before you started dating him. Come over, talk to him, and go with him.”

“I’m hanging up,” you force the words out just a split second before you end the call on YangYang.

You lie there for a few minutes, holding your phone, staring up at the ceiling. Thinking.

Is Haechan, like, fucking embarrassed to be with you? Is that why he hasn’t told his family about you? Why would you want to show up right before he leaves on that trip, to argue with him some more about it? You don’t want to ruin his trip, even if you are upset with him right now.

And why should you go without him making any sign of apology first? It’s YangYang reaching out to you, not Haechan, and that doesn’t feel right either. If Haechan isn’t going to make the effort to say that he’s sorry, that he sees the wrong he’s done in this situation, then why should you put in the effort?

You lie there for a little while longer, turning your phone over and over in your hands.

Your phone buzzes with a message, and you turn it over quickly just to see that it’s a message from YangYang.

“Don’t know if you’re on your way over, but he just left.”

Your heart does a strange tumble in your chest.

Not that you were really thinking about going over there, but it gives you a strange feeling to know that it’s not an option anymore. Haechan is gone, on his way to Jeju island.

But something about that is the impetus you needed, and you finally lug yourself out of bed and into the shower.

Maybe you should just text Haechan, you think as you massage your shampoo through your hair. Just open up that pathway with him so he knows you’re not totally pissed off to the point that you want to break up. Because you definitely don’t want to break up with him. He’s Haechan, the love of your life.

You spend the rest of your shower drafting up different versions of the message you want to send him, so as soon as you step out of the shower, you reach for your phone, ready to send the message.

But then you see you have several notifications. A couple texts. Three missed calls.

All from Haechan.

Then, somewhat muffled by distance, you hear a thud and your phone rings again. Haechan.

And the thudding noise again, but you now recognize it as knocking on your apartment door.

You don’t even bother to dry off. Instead, you just wrap the towel around you and beeline straight for the front door. The knocking continues as you approach.

Through the peephole you can see Haechan standing there, his phone pressed to his ear while he knocks with the other hand. You can see his lips moving, and through the door you hear his muffled voice saying, “Come on, please. Please don’t just ignore me, baby.”

Your phone rings again in your hand.

Haechan drops his head against the door.

The moment you touch the deadbolt, Haechan straightens up, and when you pull the door open a few inches, you can see him standing there and looking at you with heavy emotions weighing down the corners of his mouth.

“What, Donghyuck?”

His lips, which had begun to lift into a smile, sink once more. You know he doesn’t like when you use his real name, especially not when the tone you say it in is sharp and hard, not at all softened by a smile as it usually is with him.

His eyebrows furrow together a bit. “I’m sorry. I came here to say I’m sorry. All last night after you left, I kept thinking about you, about how I made a mistake. How I wanted to get out of bed and come over here to apologize and make things right. But I figured that you wouldn’t want to see me.”

Frankly, if he’d shown up last night, you probably wouldn’t have even granted him the courtesy of opening your door even this much. But right now you open it a few inches more, with your body barring the way.

“Do you realize how much it hurt me to hear you say that, Haechan? To realize that I love you so much, that all of our friends and my family know that we’re together, that you and I have discussed the future and have made tentative plans to move into a place together, but you haven’t even told your family that I hold even a small place in your mind? That makes me feel like shit, Haechan. How am I supposed to take anything you say seriously now? Do you mean it when you tell me you love me? Do you really want to move in together? Do you mean it when you tell me about how much you want to get married and be a dad, and if you do mean it, do you mean you want it with me?”

Silence follows your words for a moment. Haechan stands there in front of you, wringing his hands together.

“I’m an idiot,” he says finally. “I just… I know I should’ve told them about you. But there’s some things that I just want to hold close, and you’re one of them. Because I’m embarrassed. Not by you!” He quickly says, looking up at you with wide eyes. “I’ve never…. I’ve never brought anyone home before. They’ve never met anyone I’ve been in a relationship with, never seen me with anyone in a romantic way. That’s what I’m embarrassed about. They’ve never seen this side of me, this totally over-the-top in love side. Not to mention that I’m embarrassed by how for years we were just friends, but when I realized I had feelings for you, I fell so hard and fast.”

“You are an idiot,” you agree. “Do you think it wasn’t embarrassing for me? To have my family walk in on us? To have to introduce them to you minutes later? As soon as I told them your name, I could tell that they were laughing because for years, Haechan, I’d been talking about you. My mom teases me about it later that night. But never once, not for one minute, did I think it would be too embarrassing for them to know that I was dating you, that I’m in love with you.”

Haechan lowers his head.

You tighten your hold on the towel you’re clutching around yourself. “But you have to see this from my side, right? You’ve been telling me that you love me, but then you tell me that I’m a huge secret from your family, they’ve never heard about me. You have to see how I would take that, don’t you? How I would hear that and believe that I’m nothing more than a fun fuck for you, a way for you to get kinky?”

“No,” Haechan interjects. “No, you’re not that. You have to know that.”

The way he’s staring at you tears at your heart. You’ve pretty much already forgiven him. You don’t want to be mad at him, after all, and he’s made this effort to come here and apologize. But, you’d like to see him grovel a little longer.

Haechan says, “I was just embarrassed to realize I was so dumb and blind for so long, to go from telling myself that all the feelings I had for you were only friendly to suddenly being so in love with you and wanting you so much that it hurt me to watch anyone else touch you or look at you for too long. I love you, I want you. I want to live with you and be in love with you for the rest of our lives. But I need you to forgive me for being ridiculous. There’s really only one way to make things right, isn’t there?”

Haechan takes a half-step backwards.

Your heart lurches in your chest as he begins to sink down on one knee.

You open the door fully now, staring in unmitigated shock at Haechan as he lowers himself down.

“Lee Donghyuck—“ Your tone is one of warning.

He glances up at you. His lips tilt into a smirk, and he drops the other knee so that he’s just kneeling on the floor in front of your door. He folds his hands together, looks up at you with amusement lighting his eyes, hands lifted in a pleading manner as he begs, “Will you please forgive me, baby? My angel? Forgive me and come with me this weekend. Come meet my family.”

With a groan, you reach over and shove at his shoulder.

Haechan laughs, dropping down to sit on his ankles.

“You’re a dick,” you whine.

“What? Did you think I was going to ask something else?” Haechan laughs, still looking up at you.

You simply roll your eyes at him, turn around and walk away into your apartment, leaving the door open behind you.

Haechan calls out after you, “What’s your answer?”

“Just come inside!” You’re already walking into your bedroom, already reaching for a bag and some clothes. You hear the apartment door close, and then the sound of his footsteps crossing the floor. “Are you at least going to give your mom a heads up that you’re bringing someone with you?”

Haechan leans in your doorway, watching as you collect clothes and fold them nicely into your bag. He hums a little sound, “I may have called her earlier. I told her that I’ve been seeing a girl, and she asked me a thousand questions about you, and I told her that you’re coming home with me this weekend, so she’ll be able to ask you everything.”

“And what if I’d told you no? What if I really was ignoring you and just never answered?” You glance over at him, and Haechan is just watching you with this gentle smile.

“I didn’t want to even consider that possibility,” Haechan says with a shake of his head.

You walk away to your bathroom, gathering your toiletries together.

While you’re in there, Haechan says, “I love you, you know that, right? Like, I’m so in love with you, I’m sure I’m gonna catch shit about it this weekend from my mom and my siblings. They’re gonna tease the hell out of me, especially once my mom realizes who you are. Like I said yesterday, and never really got the chance to explain, I feel like there’s gonna be some judgment this weekend.”

You pop your head back out of the bathroom. Yes, that statement from him the night before had certainly triggered some of the more heated emotions that sent you walking out of his apartment. So right now, hearing it again, you can’t help asking, “And what does that mean?”

“Nothing bad.” Haechan rolls his eyes with a good-natured smile. “You’re wonderful. I don’t think they would find you lacking. If anything, they’re going to judge me against you and wonder why the hell you would put up with me.”

That’s bullshit. “As if. Haechan, you’re perfect. I’ve heard the way you talk about your mom, and I know you, so there’s no way that she doesn’t believe you’re perfect.”

Haechan snorts. “I know you think I’m perfect, angel, but not everyone feels the same. Especially not when you’re there with all of your… you-ness.”

“Meaning what exactly?” What does your you-ness mean? Is it a compliment?

Haechan stands there for a moment as you emerge from the bathroom to pack your toiletries into your bag, and you can see him mulling over the words, rolling them around in his mind and on his tongue for a moment before he finally lets them out.

“You are perfect. Like actually. I’m good at imitating perfection maybe, but you just… are.” Haechan sighs suddenly. “Everything about you just fits into this bubble of perfection in my mind. You’re an angel in my eyes, and I know you know it.”

A warm glow through your chest, melting the last bits of icy bitterness remaining from your fight yesterday.

And you dissolve just a little more when Haechan walks closer, when he clutches one of your hands, bringing it to his chest, against his heart.

He tells you, “You’re beautiful, kind, hard-working and smart. You’re one of the only women in our company, the best in your area, and you just keep excelling. When you got that promotion, oh my God. I’m so proud of you, proud to call myself your boyfriend. You’re living your dream, and I wish I could do that.”

It is your dream to be working this job, to have a successful career in this field. You know that Haechan enjoys his work in this area too, but after that night of your first date, when you’d encouraged him to sing, you’d reawakened his youthful dream of being a singer, one that he hasn’t made much progress towards achieving, though not from lack of trying.

Haechan’s heart beats steadily beneath your hand. He holds your gaze as he continues speaking from the heart.

“I couldn’t possibly find anyone in this world to love me better than you. You’re a daydream, and my favorite wet dream, to put it bluntly. So, yeah. You’re perfect, my angel, and as soon as my family realizes that you’re the one I’ve been telling them about for years now, the friend I met as a freshman, my mom is gonna call me an idiot for waiting so long to realize that I was in love with you.”

That makes you laugh, genuinely laugh from the belly.

You pull your hand away from his chest so you can instead throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a tight hug.

“You are an idiot for waiting years to realize that you were in love with me.” You crush yourself against him, unable to disagree with his mom’s hypothetical words. “I had a crush on you from day one, Haechan, and we were friends for so long. It’s only because of you that it took us so long.”

Haechan makes a face. “I don’t know about that.”

You scoff. “It’s true. You were so blind to me for years, and now look at you.” You pull back from the hug so you can see his face. “You’re a total sucker for me, wrapped around my finger.”

A slow-growing smile appears on Haechan’s face. “Oh? I am wrapped around your finger?”

You nod.

Haechan tsks at you. “I think you’re mistaken, angel. You’re the one wrapped around my finger, baby, and sometimes around multiple fingers.” As he says it, Haechan tightens the arm around your waist. He touches his lips to your ear. “You’re often wrapped around my tongue, like last night.” he croons.

You shiver a little, recalling the pleasure of riding his face on the sofa last night. But you don’t have time for that sort of distraction right now. If you’re going to make it to Jeju island today, you should probably be leaving soon.

“Just admit it, baby,” Haechan is still saying, “If one of us will do anything the other asks of them, it’s you.”

Again, you scoff. You push out of his hold. “Why don’t you take my bag while I get dressed.”

You’re still just wearing your towel after the shower. And you don’t think traveling to meet his family in just a towel would give them a very good first impression.

Haechan grins, pecks a kiss to your cheek, grabs your bag, and heads out your bedroom door.

a/n: Haechan in the story is a bit of a dumbass tbh, like??? Just tell your family about the woman that you're literally so in love with!!! But... anyway, you'll get a little bit of his POV in the next chapter about that! You'll also be getting more of totally, fully, completely in love Haechan waxing romantic about Y/N.

I can't believe that next chapter is gonna be the end already, I feel like I just started writing and posting this fic not too long ago!

As always, your likes, reblogs, comments, messages, stream of consciousness thoughts about YIMA are greatly appreciated! Thank you!!

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

#haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #yima #nct 127 #nct dream #nct 2023

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pandacherryblossoms · 22 days ago

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𐙚 Pet Sitting with Wayv 𐙚

Request

Genre: Fluff, Crack

Warnings: LUCAS is included and WE ARE OT7.. sooo if you don’t like it you can kindly leave💝

Kun

You step into Kun’s apartment, the soft sunlight filtering through sheer curtains, dust motes dancing in the air. The faint smell of lavender and clean laundry makes it feel like home immediately. Three cats—Louis, Leon, and Levi—are already scattered around the room, each with their own distinct personality.

Louis, sleek and confident, perches on the windowsill, tail flicking as he watches a bird outside. Leon is curled into a tight ball on the couch, eyes narrowed, clearly skeptical of any new visitors. Levi, the youngest and most energetic, weaves between your legs, brushing against your ankles.

Kun’s already on the floor, laying out treats and brushes with the precision of a professional. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright and focused. “Ten left a detailed schedule,” he says, pulling out a small notebook. “Feeding times, playtimes, brushing routines—he really trusts us with his kids.”

You smile, setting your bag down. “So, no pressure.”

He laughs softly, kneeling to offer Levi a treat. The little cat purrs immediately, jumping onto his lap. “Levi’s the easy one. Louis is curious but independent. Leon…” He pauses, looking under the table where the third cat is hiding. “Leon is a handful.”

You crouch down beside him and pull out the brush. “Let’s see if we can win him over.”

Louis jumps into your lap the moment you sit down, leaning into your hands as you stroke his fur. Levi settles happily on Kun’s chest, purring so loud you can feel it. Leon stays hidden a while longer but finally slinks out, eyes sharp and cautious. Kun approaches slowly, brushing Leon’s back in careful, gentle strokes.

“Not bad for a first try,” Kun says, grinning when Leon leans into the brush.

You chuckle, tossing a treat his way. Leon catches it with surprising speed and then rubs against Kun’s leg like he’s claiming him. “See? You’re doing great.”

After a while, the cats get comfortable enough to nap around you—Louis sprawled across your thighs, Levi curled on Kun’s chest, Leon nestled beside his knee. Kun stretches out, resting his head on your shoulder. The quiet of the apartment feels full and warm.

“You think Ten would let us keep one?” you ask, voice low.

Kun smiles against your hair. “If he does, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

You close your eyes and breathe in the peacefulness—the sound of soft purring, the weight of Kun’s body next to yours, the feeling of belonging.

Ten

“You said this would be fun.”

Ten doesn’t even look up from where he’s dangling a ribbon toy in the air like it’s an Olympic sport. “It is fun. Look at her—she’s thriving.”

Coco, Yangyang’s cat, is currently scaling the back of Ten’s couch like a little gremlin possessed. Her pupils are blown wide, tail twitching, claws out like she’s about to launch herself into orbit.

“She just tried to body slam me.”

“She’s expressing love.”

You dodge her for the third time that hour and slide down to the floor with a dramatic sigh. “She’s wild.”

“She’s energetic,” Ten corrects, finally sitting next to you and tossing the ribbon aside. Coco zips after it like she’s been summoned by dark magic. “She just needs stimulation.”

“She just needs an exorcism.”

He grins. “You’re being dramatic.”

But the chaos doesn’t bother him—in fact, he looks happy in it. He scratches Coco behind the ear when she finally flops, breathless, onto the rug. She purrs. Ten’s smile softens instantly, like this was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

“You’re good with her,” you say, quieter now.

He looks at you, his voice playful but a little more careful. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not. Just… impressed.”

He nudges your leg with his knee. “You’re not so bad either. Once you stop dodging her like she’s a tiny assassin.”

“I value my life.”

He laughs—bright and unfiltered—then leans into your side, his temple pressing against yours. “Thanks for doing this with me. I know she’s a little… intense.”

You look over at Coco, who is currently trying to fit herself into an empty tissue box.

“She’s a menace.”

“She’s perfect,” Ten says at the exact same time.

You both start laughing again, and somewhere in the middle of it, he reaches for your hand and doesn’t let go.

Winwin

You were expecting energy—maybe chaos—but instead, Bella greets you with a quiet wag of her tail and a soft blink. She’s sitting at Xiaojun’s apartment door when you and Winwin arrive, like she’s been waiting politely this whole time.

“She’s so calm,” you whisper as you crouch to pet her.

“She’s perfect,” Winwin says, kneeling beside you.

Xiaojun had asked you both to stay with her for the weekend while he visits family, and so far it’s been nothing but soft walks and sleepy cuddles. Bella pads alongside you and Winwin as you explore the neighborhood that first afternoon, her tiny paws tapping lightly against the sidewalk. No tugging, no barking, just quiet observation.

“She matches your energy,” you tease, nudging Winwin gently.

He gives you a look, but he’s smiling. “Then she’s your opposite.”

Back at the apartment, Bella hops onto the couch after dinner and curls up between the two of you, her chin resting on Winwin’s thigh. His hand automatically moves to her head, stroking slow and gentle.

“She’s used to quiet,” he says softly. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

You nod, letting the silence settle over everything. The kind of silence that doesn’t ask for anything. Winwin leans into you slightly, and Bella lets out the tiniest sigh in her sleep. You stroke her back while his fingers find yours, slotting together like they were always meant to.

Later, the three of you end up sprawled on the floor with an old movie playing in the background—barely watching, mostly just enjoying the calm. Winwin stretches out beside you, head on your stomach, Bella curled at your side.

“She trusts you,” he says after a while.

“I think she just wants snacks.”

He looks up at you with that soft, tired smile that never quite leaves his face. “No, she knows. You’re safe.”

Your hand finds his hair, gently running through it. “You are too.”

He closes his eyes. “Then let’s stay like this for a while.”

And you do.

Lucas

“Wait—where’d they go?”

You blink. “You just had them.”

“I know, but now they’re gone!”

Lucas is standing in the middle of Ten’s apartment with his hands on his hips, looking around like he’s in a cartoon mystery episode. He’d been confidently holding Louis under one arm and Levi under the other just five seconds ago.

“They’re tiny ninjas,” he mutters, checking under a pillow. “This is sabotage.”

You try to hold back your laugh, but it slips out anyway. “You said you had a ‘natural gift’ with cats.”

“I do!” he says quickly—just as Louis bolts out from under the couch and makes a daring leap onto the coffee table. “That was just… a test run.”

You find Levi curled up in a laundry basket, purring like nothing’s wrong.

Lucas scoops him up and holds him like he’s cradling a newborn. “He loves me.”

Levi immediately bites the string on his hoodie.

“Okay, he likes me.”

Still, despite the clumsy start, Lucas is shockingly gentle. He lets them walk all over him—literally—and talks to them like they’re old friends. You catch him cooing at Levi in the kitchen, crouched down with a treat in one hand and a baby voice you’ll never let him live down.

“They’re growing on me,” he whispers later, curled up on the floor with Louis asleep on his chest. “Or maybe I’m growing on them.”

You settle next to him, watching the two cats snooze like nothing ever happened.

Lucas turns his head toward you, eyes soft. “Thanks for doing this with me. I would’ve panicked if they escaped and I was alone.”

“You did panic.”

“Exactly.”

You smile, brushing a bit of fur off his sleeve. He grins, leans in, and kisses you slow and warm, careful not to move too much and disturb Louis.

He pulls back just enough to whisper, “Maybe we should get our own pets someday.”

From somewhere in the apartment, something crashes.

Lucas flinches. “Or… we can borrow Ten’s until we’re ready.”

Xiaojun

“She’s glaring at me again,” Xiaojun whispers.

Coco’s perched on top of the fridge like she owns the place — because she does — and she hasn’t blinked once since you walked in with Xiaojun. Her tail flicks slowly. Judgingly.

“She’s probably wondering why you’re touching all her things,” you say, carrying her food bowl over. She doesn’t move.

Xiaojun leans in. “Do you think she’d bite me?”

“Yes.”

“She’s so small though—”

“Yes.”

You were supposed to just check in on Coco for Yangyang while he was away, but somehow Xiaojun insisted on tagging along. (“You shouldn’t be alone with a known diva like her.”) What he didn’t count on was Coco attaching herself to you like Velcro—and hissing every time he gets too close.

“She’s got favorites,” you shrug.

“Why can’t I be one?”

Still, he tries. He lets Coco sniff his hand. He offers treats. He even Googles “how to win a cat’s heart” and reads the results out loud in a dramatic voice. Coco, unfazed, knocks a pen off the table and walks away.

You’re laughing way too hard.

“She’s mocking me,” Xiaojun mutters, defeated. “I’m trying to bond, and she’s giving me villain origin energy.”

Eventually, Coco slinks onto your lap, paws tucked neatly, eyes half-closed. Xiaojun stares at her like she’s just taken his seat at a royal banquet.

“You know what? Fine. I don’t need her affection.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“I have your affection,” he says, turning toward you suddenly. “That’s better anyway.”

It’s shameless. He leans in close, hand brushing yours, voice low. “Unless you’re team Coco now.”

“She did hiss at you,” you tease.

“She has no taste,” he whispers, before kissing you quickly—just once, but enough to make your face warm.

Coco chooses that exact moment to jump down and land directly on Xiaojun’s chest, like she heard everything.

He screams. You laugh so hard you cry.

“I don’t care what she says,” he groans from the floor. “You’re still mine.”

Hendery

“Okay,” Hendery says, holding Leon like a loaf of bread. “He bit me, but it felt affectionate.”

You raise a brow. “You’re bleeding.”

“Love hurts.”

You’re at Ten’s place for the afternoon because he asked you and Hendery to check in on Leon while he’s out. In theory, it should be simple. But Leon has other plans.

Ten minutes in, he’s knocked over a water glass, clawed his way up the curtains, and tried to wrestle a sock like it owed him money.

“Maybe he just needs stimulation,” Hendery suggests, pulling out one of Ten’s feather toys.

Leon stares at it. Then at Hendery. Then pounces on your foot instead.

“I think he hates me,” Hendery says with wide, betrayed eyes.

“No, he’s just—”

Leon launches onto the couch and bolts over both of you like a parkour demon.

“—a menace,” you finish.

Still, Hendery’s committed. He talks to Leon like he’s a toddler with boundary issues. “Buddy, I love you, but this is a lot for me emotionally.”

Leon responds by licking Hendery’s knee, then immediately biting his ankle.

You try not to laugh. You fail miserably.

Hours later, when the sun’s setting and the chaos has finally dimmed, Leon is miraculously curled up between you both on the couch. He’s purring like nothing ever happened. Hendery looks exhausted but smug.

“I told you he liked me,” he whispers.

You look down at Leon, then at the ten tiny claw marks on Hendery’s arm. “Sure. Deeply.”

Hendery turns to you, eyes soft, his voice quieter. “Thanks for not leaving me alone with him.”

You smile. “You begged me to come.”

“I would’ve died otherwise.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “You’re dramatic.”

He kisses your temple, a slow press. “Only for you.”

Leon shifts, stretches, and promptly kicks Hendery in the stomach.

“…I think he’s jealous.”

Yangyang

“She’s judging me.”

Yangyang’s sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, holding a leash in one hand and a half-chewed plush banana in the other. Bella is two feet away, just… staring at him.

“She’s probably wondering why you’re barking back at her,” you say, leaning in the doorway.

“It was a bonding exercise.”

You’re watching Bella together for Xiaojun while he’s gone for a couple days. You expected a chill weekend, and honestly? It is. Kind of. There’s music playing low through the speakers, candles burning, snacks on the table—but also Bella has chosen violence multiple times. She steals socks, barks at the closet, and won’t let Yangyang wear his hoodie in peace.

“She tried to take it off me,” he says, halfway through a tug-of-war match with her and his sleeve. “Like full-on pulled at it with her teeth. This is a power struggle.”

You watch her tail wag furiously as she yanks again.

“I think you lost.”

Still, the chaos is never loud. Just ridiculous. Comfortable. You spend most of the day lounging around, taking turns walking her, laughing whenever she decides the sidewalk is lava and sprints back toward the apartment. Yangyang films her like she’s a celebrity. “Content queen,” he calls her, flipping the camera to wink at you too.

By the evening, Bella’s snuggled between you both on the couch, paws twitching in a dream. Yangyang’s hoodie is wrinkled, his hair a mess, and he’s got a sock tucked into his pocket for “protection.”

You turn to him. “So… how’d we do?”

He grins, stretching out a little more. “I think we crushed it.”

Bella kicks him in her sleep.

He winces. “Okay. She crushed me.”

You laugh and lean your head against his shoulder. He immediately tilts toward you too, voice softer now. “Thanks for doing this with me. I know it’s not exactly a relaxing weekend, but… it’s been nice.”

You look down at Bella’s sleeping face. “She’s a good girl.”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes still on you. “So are you.”

…..…….……………………….…..:><:………………………………………

Taglist: @xikersgurly

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kaciebello · 9 months ago

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Absolutely random question (because I saw that you like exo): which of the snakes do you think would like kpop and who would they like????

Who would listen to k-pop

Slytherin boys Note: I absolutely love this question! This is so fun! Also sorry for any typos, wrote this right when I woke up because I was so excited. Disclaimer: this is just for fun. You are allowed to disagree and have different opinions.

I feel like it could be genuinely all of them, just different kinds of groups and levels ya know?

Most to least

Lorenzo - My boy knows all the b-sides by heart. I feel like his favourite is Red Velvet. Has all the albums and even has the Japanese special editions. Definitely collects Yeri photo cards. Is buying the lipstick that has recently come out. Has like half of the Twice albums because he started to collect them recently. You can find other groups as well but I feel like he's more of a 3 gen Stan. A whole dedicated bookshelf to this stuff in his room. Knows any and every girl group dance.

Draco - Another person that's deep into it. I feel like Lorenzo introduced him and let him run wild. My boy got stuck on NCT. Genuinely believes he could be a part of any NCT unit. Saw Johnny once and folded. His favourite unit is Wayv tho. Feels like he could be the best of friends with Yangyang. Quotes Jaehyun' Wait a minute ' all the time. Has at least one photo card of each member. Cried when NCT Hollywood happened and was mad he wasn't from Hollywood.

Mattheo - I feel like he knows what's up but doesn't go too deep. Really resonated with TXT's LO$ER=LO♡ER song. Has a playlist that just K-pop but only listens to it alone. Ngl, I feel like he's kinda embarrassed. Not by listening to K-pop, but just by how deep he got into it. Buys albums he aesthetically likes. Pulls who he pulls and does not trade. Is unaware he has one of the rares cards that are worth like a million. I feel like he would have a cardboard cutout and get jump scared every time he sees it because he forgot it's there.

Theodore - Is in it because of a scandal. He saw a dating scandal and his noisy ass was right there to inspect it. Loves to watch those crack videos on TikTok and YouTube. He's more into it for the content than the music. He will listen to it but is shaking to watch the next skz family. Fell for the Felix effect for sure. Has one single Stray Kids album where he pulled both Felix and Changbin and decided he didn't need anything else. So noisy that he believes Misung is real and will argue about it.

Blaise - I feel like he knows about it because of the other. Doesn't really listen to a certain group. When he likes a song he likes a song. Doesn't speak Korean but nails every song in karaoke. Will buy tickets to Waterbom and enjoy every second of it. That and KCON. Likes subtle merch more than flashy one, doesn't like it when it has the group's name plastered all over the front and back. Enjoys 2 Gen probably the most. He is open to any songs just send them his way.

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tynlvr · 27 days ago

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losers in love [l.yy smau] - the revamp !

masterlist

genres: fluff, angst (?), slow burn (slower than head over heels be prepared!!), crack (i try), idiots to lovers, strangers to bffs to lovers, college au, music major!yy x fem!psych!major reader, different universe as head over heels

synopsis: you’re a second-year psych major taking songwriting for fun since you’ve always loved poetry. you’re not expecting to make any friends, but liu yangyang comes barging into your life like a ray of sunshine on the first day and you can tell you’re going to be best of friends. that’s all… right?

WARNINGS: probably mentions of alcohol, parties, a guy being creepy, light swearing

DISCREPANCIES: there are definitely some... once i identify them i'll let y'all know <3

! none of what i write reflects the idols, how they act or their personal lives in any way. all of this is FALSE and MADE UP !

ONGOING! updates… hopefully regularly!

profiles 1: smu's #1 dorm | profiles 2: pay the rent on time please! | profiles 3: wavy

intro: yn | intro: yangyang

chapters i. new semester, new class, new me ii. bro's gonna get blocked irl before he gets a word in iii. oh HELLO who are you?

[tba...]

my taglist is always open! reply here or drop an ask :) please like reblog and share my work and feel free to drop asks reading them makes me so happy <3

taglist: @nerdsungie @222brainrot @roseangelxfuma @starfilledgaze @dudekiss3r @injunnie-lemon @mouldyeggsblog @rik0shii @dollhara @seraferina @haepetale @drunkhee

#kpop #wayv smau #nct dream texts #nct smau #yangyang #nct x reader #losers in love #wayv texts #xiaojun #hendery #sicheng #winwin #wayv #ten #ten chittaphon #kun #qian kun

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fartyang · 2 months ago

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Every Little Helps || Liu YangYang

After being offered free housing, Yangyang moves to the UK to start a new life. But after starting his new job at tesco, he realises what huge mistake he made.

#yangyang #nct #wayv

1: Moving in

Yangyang had never seen skies like this before, grey, heavy, but oddly comforting. It surely didn't compare to South Korea, the country that he has been working in before, maybe a bit like Germany but then again nothing compares to his favourite country, oh how much he wished that he'd moved back to Düsseldorf instead of Birmingham.

The airport was hectic. People moved quickly, bumping past him with their wheeled suitcases and loud conversations. It was nothing new to him, traveling round all the time, he'd seen it all.

He adjusted the strap of his backpack and stepped outside into the miserable weather. The cold hit his cheeks instantly. Such a lovely welcoming.

His new home was a tiny flat above a chip shop in the Birmingham Gay Village, located along Hurst street. When Yangyang found out that he would be staying there, he was slightly surprised. He thought it must have been a mix up, surely the Chinatown which was next to the village would suit him more, but then again maybe not. He was sure the locals were all amazing.

The smell of fried oil clung to the stairwell. He dropped his bag and flopped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling that bore the slight crack of age. It wasn't bad. It wasn't glamorous. And that's exactly what he wanted.

Now, you're probably wondering what Yangyang quite possibly did to end up in Birmingham, which I (the author) will tell you now.

Yangyang had spent a large amount of his childhood in Germany, attending an international school which spoke english, he was born in Taiwan but he doesn't remember it very well. He worked in South Korea as a backup dancer for EXO but his career soon ended when he found out he was getting evicted. Oh poops!

While at a party, he met a man called Jackson Wang, who knew many many people. Like Yangyang, Jackson was also a foreigner, so they had various shared experiences. After hearing about his friend's situation, he was quick to help out. You see, Jackson knows a landlord in the UK called Qian Kun, who showed deep interest in Liu Yangyang. Kun offered Yangyang free housing, but the only issue? It was in the UK, more specifically Birmingham. Sure, he loved peaky blinders, but moving to the place itself? Hell no. But, it was free, and his visa would be payed for, so, he agreed. Which brings us to where we are now.

As Yangyang lay on the bed, he began to think. First off, he needs a job, he needs to be able to afford food and nice things. Second, he needs friends. Without any further consideration, he got up, grabbed his bag and headed out of his new flat.

As he walked across the street, he couldn't ignore the strange smell which leaked from an alleyway. But then, he saw it — the one thing he had heard many things about: Tesco. He crossed the road and walked towards the shop, the bright lights and pictures displaying delicious food pulling him in.

The shop was bustling with customers trying to do their weekly shopping, but Yangyang pushed forward and headed towards the least busy aisle. Fruits and veg aligned his path and the sweet smell of freshly baked goods had him heading over to the bakery. He swiftly grabbed a packet of double chocolate cookies, and then a four pack of glazed donuts. Delish!

But then, something stood out to him. A small sign on the wall, reading out the words:

Tesco is hiring!

Come and join the bakery at Tesco!

Job title: Baker

Apply now!

Yangyang took one look at the advertisement and immediately knew he wanted to inquire about it. Yangyang loved baking, and if it was those delicious cookies he'd be baking, he would be more than delighted to do the job.

2: Job Application

He clutched the packet of cookies in one hand and marched straight to the customer service desk with a kind of determination he hadn't felt in weeks. The woman at the counter offered him a smile.

"Hi hi," Yangyang began, holding up the flyer like a badge. "I saw this sign about the bakery job — may I get some more information?"

The woman blinked, then motioned towards a short man stacking canned beans a few metres away. "You'll want to speak to Sicheng, he's the bakery supervisor."

"Sicheng.. Got it," Yangyang replied, nodding.

He approached Sicheng with a quiet confidence. "Excuse me — are you Sicheng?"

Sicheng turned, wiping his hands on his apron. He looked Yangyang up and down, then grinned. "You here for the baking job?"

Yangyang nodded. "I've got experience baking at home, and I'm.. well, I'm kinda new in town so.. looking for a job."

"Where you from?" Sicheng asked, already making an assumption in his head based off of his appearance and accent.

"Oh- well, um, I was born in Taiwan, but i'm Chinese. I lived in Germany growing up and then I moved to Korea for work." He paused "Buttt now I'm here.."

Sicheng gave a low whistle. "You've really done the tour, haven't you?"

Yangyang smiled. "Heh.. I guess."

"Alright," Sicheng said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "We're looking for someone part-time to help in the mornings. It's mostly bread, rolls, cookies — nothing fancy, but honest work. Think you're up for it?"

"Oh for sure!" Yangyang said, without hesitation.

Sicheng pulled a folded form from his apron and handed it to him. "Fill this out and bring it back tomorrow. Early though 'cuz i'll be here from six."

Yangyang took the paper like it was made of gold. "I'll be here. Six sharp."

As he exited Tesco, cookies in one hand, donuts in the other, from tucked into his jacket, he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his face. First day and he's already applied for a job!

And perhaps, the Gay Village of Birmingham wouldn't be so bad after all.

He walked back to his flat with a new sense of purpose. The village lights flickered on around him, neon pink and warm oranges bathing the street in something that felt.. alive. The kind of place where things happened.

The wall across the road from him was painted with a big rainbow that stretched for a while, covering almost all of the wall. There were shops lined up together, a coffee shop, a tanning salon, a turkish barbers, a sweet shop, a turkish barbers, wait, was that another turkish barbers?? Why are there multiple? Whatever..

He thought to himself, maybe tomorrow, he would meet a neighbour, or get a coffee at the cafe. Maybe he would bump into Kun, the landlord who let him come stay.

Maybe Birmingham was the start of something.

3: Strange Landlord

The next morning came quickly, the faint patter of rain against the window waking Yangyang before his alarm even had a chance to beep. He rolled out of bed, the wooden floorboards creaking under his feet. He wondered over to the small kitchen area to grab a cup of tea.

His job application was all filled out and it was time to hand it in.

He grabbed the paper Sicheng had given him and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. With one last glance at the mirror (his fried hair sticking up but whatever), he pulled open the door and walked out, walking face first into someone in the hallway.

A man, about his height, with jet black hair with round glasses perched on his nose, stared at him like he'd been expecting him all along.

"Ahh.. You must be Yangyang," the man said with a broad grin. His voice was smooth, almost too smooth, like he had rehearsed it in the mirror beforehand.

Yangyang blinked a few times, half-asleep. "Uh.. yeah. You are..?"

"Qian Kun. Your landlord," the man replied, offering a hand. His rings clinked softly as he moved. "Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. Got tied up with... stuff." His voice dropped mysteriously at the end, but he didn't elaborate.

Yangyang hesitated before shaking his hand. Kun's grip was firm but oddly comforting, like he was pulling Yangyang into a pact he didn't know he was signing.

Kun stepped back, arms folding casually. "So! How are you finding it? The flat? The village? The chip shop smell?"

Yangyang laughed, the nervous kind of laugh you give when you're not entirely sure if someone's joking. "It's... different. But I like it, actually."

Kun smiled even wider, teeth flashing. "Good. Good. We take care of our own around here. You need anything — anything at all.. — you come find me."

There was a pause. Yangyang opened his mouth to thank him, but Kun continued.

"Oh, and if you hear any... weird noises at night, don't worry. It's just the old pipes. Or maybe the ghosts."

He winked.

Yangyang wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Probably not... right?

Kun clapped him on the back, almost knocking him into the doorframe. "Go on then, off you go! Big first day, yeah?"

"Uh, not really first day yet, just handing in my application..." Yangyang mumbled.

Kun gave him a knowing look, as if he already knew how it would all turn out. "Still. Big day. I'll see you around, Yangyang."

And just like that, Kun turned and headed down the stairs, whistling some old tune that echoed weirdly in the stairwell. Yangyang watched him go, feeling a strange mixture of reassurance and... unease.

He shook his head to clear it. Maybe Kun was just one of those eccentric types. Nothing wrong with that.

Grabbing his things, Yangyang made his way to Tesco, heart hammering with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Maybe it was a big day after all.

4: The Interview

Yangyang found Sicheng exactly where Claudia had pointed — elbow-deep in flour, muttering something about dough ratios under his breath.

"Hey, uh, Sicheng?" Yangyang said, carefully approaching like someone might approach a sleeping bear.

Sicheng looked up, his face lighting up when he saw him. "Ah, bakery boy! You got the form?"

Yangyang pulled the slightly wrinkled application from his jacket pocket and handed it over. Sicheng wiped his hands on his apron and took it, scanning it quickly.

"Looks good. Lived all over, huh?" he said, eyes skimming the 'Previous Experience' section.

"Yeah," Yangyang laughed nervously. "Moving around's kind of... my thing."

Sicheng nodded thoughtfully, then tossed the paper onto a nearby table. "Alright. You know what? Let's not do a big formal interview. I'm short on hands as it is."

Yangyang blinked. "Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously," Sicheng said, grinning. "You can start tomorrow morning. Trial shift. See how you go."

Yangyang's heart leapt. "Thank you! I won't let you down."

Sicheng waved a hand dismissively. "Save the thanks for after you've spent four hours up to your elbows in croissant butter."

Yangyang laughed. It felt good. It felt easy, for once.

"Oh," Sicheng added, pointing a finger at him as he turned back toward the ovens, "you'll need a uniform. Black trousers, white shirt. You'll get a bakery apron once you survive your first shift."

"Got it," Yangyang said, committing it to memory.

"And bring tea. Lots of tea."

Yangyang saluted playfully. "Yes, chef."

Sicheng chuckled and went back to his dough, and Yangyang wandered out of Tesco, a little stunned by how easily that all went.

Maybe Birmingham was secretly lucky for him.

Back in his flat, Yangyang collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He could hear the soft hum of the chip fryers below, the occasional clang of metal as the workers cleaned up after the lunch rush.

His phone buzzed. A text from Kun.

Kun: Hey, it's me Kun. You alive?

Yangyang grinned and quickly typed back.

Yangyang: Barely..😅 got a job though!

Kun: Legend. Drinks soon?🍻

Yangyang: Sure. After my trial shift tomorrow? :)

It felt strange, this growing sense that he was starting something new. A tiny spark of excitement bubbled in his chest — he hadn't felt this way in a long time...

Tomorrow, he would become Yangyang the baker. Or at least, Yangyang the bakery trainee!

Same thing, right?

He closed his eyes, letting the noise of the village lull him into a light sleep, the faint smell of fried chips and city rain oddly comforting.

Tomorrow, it would all begin.

5: First Shift

Yangyang's alarm blared at 5:00 AM sharp, a violent sound that felt personally offensive. He slammed the snooze button, dragging himself out of bed like a man heading to battle.

White shirt? Check.

Black trousers? Check.

Fact? Check.

oh how much I love nct 127.. that's my favourite band he thought to himself.

By 5:45 AM, Yangyang was power-walking through the empty streets, Tesco bag swinging wildly at his side. The Gay Village looked different at this hour — quieter, mistier, like the city was still stretching and yawning.

He slipped into the staff entrance at Tesco, nearly colliding with a stock boy wheeling a towering stack of toilet paper.

"Morning, bakery boy," Sicheng called from across the bakery, already elbow-deep in a giant vat of dough like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Hope you had a cup of tea."

Yangyang held up a sad little takeaway cup. "I did.. it wasn't the best, but yeah."

Sicheng laughed and tossed him an apron. "Good enough. Come on — today you're on dough prep. Easy stuff."

"Cool, cool," Yangyang said, tying the apron with questionable technique. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Famous last words....

The first half hour went okay. Yangyang was carefully portioning out dough when suddenly-

BANG!

He jumped out of his skin. A tray of croissants had exploded out of the proofer, sending raw pastries skidding all across the floor.

Sicheng just shook his head. "Proofer's moody. Don't take it personally."

Yangyang scrambled to pick up the croissants, apologizing profusely to a very unimpressed Claudia — yes, customer service Claudia — who had come back here looking for a "cheeky early cookie."

As he slid across the floor trying to catch a rogue croissant, the door to Tesco swung open with a ding — and in strolled none other than Ed Sheeran.

Wearing a hoodie and a beanie pulled low over his eyes, he wandered into the bakery section like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Alright, mate," Ed said, in a sleepy voice, looking down at Yangyang lying dramatically on the floor with a croissant stuck to his apron. "You good?"

What the hell? Is that... Ed Sheeran?? Oh God.. Why do these things always happen to me?!

"Uh, yeah!" Yangyang blurted, scrambling up. "Just... wrestling with breakfast."

Ed chuckled, picking up a package of muffins. "Respect."

Sicheng, without missing a beat, shouted across the bakery, "Oi, if you're gonna loiter, at least stack a tray!"

Ed shrugged, laughing, and carried the muffins over to the self-checkout. No fuss. Like it was a normal Tuesday.

Yangyang stared after him, jaw dropped.

"You'll get used to it," Claudia said, breezing past with a cookie in each hand. "This place is like a magnet for weirdness."

An hour later, after narrowly avoiding dropping a full tray of baguettes onto an old lady's foot (thankfully, she thought it was hilarious and called him "a charming mess"), Yangyang was finally allowed a quick break.

He flopped onto a plastic chair in the staff room, covered in flour, exhausted but... happy?

Kun had been right. Birmingham was weird. Tesco was weird. Even the bloody croissants were weird.

Perhaps this is just normal for the british, who knows..

6: New Neighbour

By the afternoon, Yangyang was getting the hang of the bakery routine — mostly.

Sure, he'd accidentally burned a batch of cookies, spilled a tub of flour across the freshly mopped floor, and humiliated himself in-front of literal Ed Sheeran. But whatever.. it is what it is..

It was nearing the end of his trial shift, the bakery in Tesco slowing down after the morning rush, when the entrance doors slid open and in walked a man Yangyang hadn't seen before.

He was tall, sharp-featured, with bleached blonde hair pushed back casually and a black hoodie thrown over jeans. He didn't look particularly loud or flashy — if anything, he blended in. But there was something about the way he carried himself, the easy confidence, that made him stand out.

Yangyang was wiping down the bakery counter when the man approached, hands tucked casually into his pockets.

"Hey," the stranger said, voice smooth but low-key. "Do you work here?"

Yangyang looked down at his flour-streaked apron and bakery name tag. He smiled awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. Is it that obvious?"

The man chuckled, a deep, friendly sound. "A little bit."

He glanced at the rows of bread. "I'm after something... not too sweet. Like, grown-up sweet. You know?"

Yangyang wiped his hands on his apron and leaned over the counter. "Hmm. We have a walnut loaf? Or maybe sourdough? It's not sweet, it's just... very serious bread."

The man laughed again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "Serious bread. That's exactly what I need."

Yangyang grabbed a loaf from behind the counter and passed it over. "You visiting or...?"

"Moved in yesterday," the man said casually. "Flat above that Turkish barber shop across the road. You know it?"

Yangyang's eyebrows shot up. "No way. I just moved in too. Above the chip shop."

The man tilted his head, a slow smile forming. "Neighbours, then."

"Looks like it," Yangyang said, feeling a weird jolt of happiness.

The man shifted the loaf under his arm. "Name's Ten, by the way. I mean, it's actually Chittaphon, but I just go by Ten because it's easier for non Thai people."

"Ohh, nice. I'm Yangyang," he replied, offering his hand.

Ten shook it firmly, a slight twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"Yangyang," he repeated thoughtfully. "Cool name. Sounds like someone who knows how to party."

Yangyang snorted. "Yeah, maybe. If by party you mean 'fall asleep watching Netflix by nine.'"

"Honestly?" Ten said, leaning in slightly. "Same."

They both laughed, the conversation sliding into a comfortable rhythm Yangyang hadn't felt with a stranger in a long time.

But just as quickly, Ten pulled back slightly, checking the time on his phone.

"Anyway. Gotta finish unpacking," he said, tapping the bread against his shoulder. "But I'll probably see you around, neighbour."

"Yeah," Yangyang said, grinning. "Definitely."

As Ten strolled toward the checkout, Yangyang couldn't help but watch him go — relaxed, confident, like he belonged everywhere he walked.

And for the first time since arriving in Birmingham, Yangyang felt a strange flicker of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to find his people.

Even if it was one neighbour at a time.

Kun: Meet outside pub in 20?

17:49

He had almost forgotten he had agreed to meet up with Kun for a drink, him quickly putting down his phone onto the bed and springing up to get ready.

He picked a casual outfit, nothing too extravagant, what you would usually wear to meet up with your landlord for a pint.

The pub Kun had picked was tucked just off Hurst Street, a cozy little place called The Queen's Arms. Outside, fairy lights twisted around the sign, and the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses drifted into the street.

Yangyang spotted Kun almost immediately — perched at a small corner table, nursing a pint and waving his phone in the air like a beacon.

"Oi, bakery boy!" Kun shouted over the noise, grinning wide.

Yangyang laughed and slipped into the seat across from him. "Kun the landlord," he teased. "Didn't think I'd see you outside a contract signing."

Kun snorted. "I'm a man of many talents — I'd give you a list but you'd be here forever. Although I can tell you that I do have a degree in drinking."

He slid a pint of beer towards Yangyang. "Got you a lager. You're welcome."

Yangyang took a sip — bitter, crisp, perfect after a long week.

"So," Kun said, leaning back in his chair. "How's Tesco life treating you? Met any weirdos yet?"

Yangyang thought for a second.

"Does Ed Sheeran randomly buying muffins count?"

Kun nearly choked on his drink. "What?!"

Yangyang grinned, leaning in to tell the story.

As he talked, Kun just shook his head, laughing.

"Mate, only you would move to Birmingham and end up serving muffins to Ed bloody Sheeran on your second day."

"Heh.. Guess I'm lucky?" Yangyang said, half-joking.

Kun clinked his glass against Yangyang's. "No, mate. You're in Birmingham. Get used to weird."

They laughed, and for the first time in ages, Yangyang felt the warm buzz of belonging — not just from the beer, but from something better.

Friendship.

Possibility.

A new life, unfolding slowly, pint by pint.

Later that evening, as he trudged up the stairwell smelling faintly of bakery sugar, Yangyang caught sight of Ten again.

This time, Ten was balancing a cardboard box labeled "kitchen stuff" against his hip, swearing under his breath as a tea kettle clattered to the floor.

"You need a hand?" Yangyang offered, trying not to laugh.

Ten looked over, smiling sheepishly. "Only if you're trained in handling kettles."

Yangyang grinned. "Lucky for you, handling kettles is my specialty."

Ten nodded, stepping aside so Yangyang could help carry the box up the last flight of stairs.

The next morning, Yangyang woke up early out of sheer panic.

No alarm needed. No croissant explosion. Just his brain helpfully screaming:

You don't actually have a real job yet, idiot!

He threw on the least wrinkled black T-shirt he could find and practically sprinted down to Tesco, half-eaten toast in one hand, dignity left somewhere back at the chip shop.

The bakery smelled amazing when he arrived — fresh cinnamon rolls, crisped loaves of bread stacked behind the counter, and the low hum of early-morning shoppers.

Yangyang spotted Sicheng by the industrial mixer, arms deep in dough as usual, humming along to a Kendrick Lamar song playing faintly from the speakers.

"Morning!" Yangyang called out, slightly breathless.

Sicheng glanced up, one eyebrow raised. "Back so soon? I thought I'd scared you off."

"Uh, not quite," Yangyang said, adjusting his apron awkwardly. "I was wondering... Can I work here properly? Like, full time?"

Sicheng wiped his hands and leaned against the counter, studying him.

"You sure? It's early mornings, grumpy customers, flour in places you didn't even know existed."

Yangyang nodded firmly. "Positive."

Sicheng smirked. "Good. I was gonna offer anyway. Claudia said you were the only person who's ever made her laugh before 8AM, so that's a miracle on its own."

Yangyang grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Sicheng handed him a proper schedule — laminated and everything — and a new apron that didn't smell vaguely like burnt toast.

"Congrats, bakery boy. You're one of us now."

Yangyang looked down at the schedule in his hands and felt a small, steady glow of pride.

Maybe it wasn't backup dancing for sold-out concerts.

Maybe it wasn't the glamorous life he once thought he needed.

But it was something real.

And for now, that was enough.

After his promotion (if you could call it that), Yangyang had the rest of the day free.

He decided to take himself on a victory lap around town — or more realistically, a casual stroll to pretend he was a local.

Birmingham felt different today: brighter somehow, like the city was cracking a half-smile just for him.

He wandered through the Gay Village, past the rainbow flags fluttering in the spring breeze, the cafe patios slowly filling with people and little clusters of laughter.

He ducked into a small independent coffee shop — the kind that smelled aggressively of espresso and where all the chairs were different on purpose.

Behind the counter was a girl with brown hair with bangs and headphones, singing softly along to the song playing through the speakers.

Yangyang froze for a second.

Was that... PinkPantheress?

She wore a cute dress with black leggings and looked even more beautiful in person, Yangyang could not believe his eyes. But sure enough, it was her. Just casually working a shift, frothing milk like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Next!" she said, not looking up.

Yangyang shuffled forward.

"Uh, can I get an iced mocha?"

"Sure thing," she said, punching it into the till.

She gave him a lazy smile. "You new round here? You've got that... 'I'm lost but pretending I'm not' vibe."

Yangyang laughed. "That obvious?"

"Painfully," she said, handing him his change with a wink.

He sat at a window seat, sipping his mocha, watching the street outside. He felt... good. Strange, but good.

Later on, he heard a knock on his door.

He opened it to find Ten standing there, wearing a denim jacket over his hoodie, a six-pack of cheap beer under one arm.

"Thought I'd do the neighbourly thing," Ten said casually. "Celebrate your new job?"

Yangyang blinked. "How did you know—?"

Ten just shrugged, grinning. "Word gets around."

They sat on the slightly lopsided couch in Yangyang's tiny flat, clinking bottles and laughing about the weirdness of British shops ("Wait, you can actually buy full meals at Boots?") and their mutual confusion over how many Turkish barbers existed in a five-street radius.

Ten was easy to be around — not overly chatty, not pushy, just... present.

Yangyang liked that.

Halfway through the night, between laughing fits about a Tesco customer who insisted on calling croissants "crisps," Ten leaned back and said, almost thoughtfully,

"You know, Birmingham's not so bad when you've got people around."

Yangyang smiled, feeling something settle quietly inside him.

"Yeah," he said. "Not bad at all."

8: Ten’s Party

Yangyang woke up to the sound of seagulls screaming bloody murder outside his window.

He groaned, rolling over and squinting at his phone.

2 new messages from Ten

Ten: Hey yangyang~

I thought it would be a good idea to throw a party at mine to celebrate moving in, obviously your invited. 8PM tonight, don't miss it🙂‍↔️

07:23

Yangyang laughed under his breath. It had been less than a week since they'd met, and already Ten was texting like they'd known each other for years.

Still half-asleep, Yangyang typed back.

Yangyang: A party?😳 Wow. Okay. Should I bring crisps?

Ten: Only if you bring the good ones. None of that salt and vinegar slander...😉

Yangyang snorted, tossing the phone onto his duvet.

Salt and vinegar was elite, but fine.. he'd let Ten be wrong just this once.

By 7:45 PM, Yangyang was standing awkwardly outside Ten's door, clutching a bag of Monster Munch and a pack of Strongbow cans that he'd panic-bought at Tesco. The door swung open before he could even knock.

"Hey Yangyang!" Ten grinned, stepping aside to let him in.

The flat smelled faintly of pizza and cheap scented candles.

Inside, a handful of people were already lounging around — a messy collection of secondhand furniture, fairy lights pinned haphazardly to the walls.

Two guys were DJing from a cracked iPad in the corner. They were loud and seemed to be attracting quite a crowd. He listened as one of them shouted "Fire?" and all the others responded with "Flames!" They're funny, he thought to himself.

Ten plucked the Monster Munch from Yangyang's hands like it was treasure.

"Respect," he said solemnly.

Yangyang grinned. "Told you I wasn't boring."

"You're on thin ice, bakery boy," Ten joked, tossing him a can of cider. "Make yourself at home."

Yangyang perched on the arm of an overstuffed chair, sipping cautiously. The cider was way sweeter than he'd expected, almost offensively fruity, but whatever.. it was free.

He spent the first half hour getting introduced to a rotating cast of Ten's friends — a couple of art students from the college down the road, a guy named Yuta who claimed to be a rock star, and another guy named Xiaojun who claimed he could beat anyone at Call of Duty with one hand tied behind his back.

Yangyang liked them immediately.

They were loud, a little chaotic, but in the best way, the kind that made you feel like you didn't have to try so hard.

Ten floated easily through the room, laughing with everyone, but always checking back in with Yangyang, making sure he wasn't left awkwardly marooned in a corner. Yangyang appreciated that more than he could say.

At some point, Ten collapsed onto the floor beside Yangyang, two fresh cans in hand.

"So," he said, cracking one open. "Be honest. How's the UK treating you?"

Yangyang thought for a second.

He took in the fairy lights, the messy stack of board games in the corner, the smell of pizza and cider and possibility.

"Honestly?" he said, smiling a little. "Better than I thought it would."

Ten bumped his shoulder lightly. "Told you it's not all doom and rain."

Yangyang laughed. "You're literally the first person I met who made this city feel... like home, a little bit."

Ten grinned, almost bashful. "Guess that makes me your honorary tour guide."

"Is there an oath I have to take?" Yangyang asked seriously. "Like, do I have to pledge allegiance to Greggs or something?"

Ten almost spit out his drink laughing.

"Yes bro! First rule of Birmingham: Respect the sausage roll."

Later, after the party thinned out and only the ride-or-die crowd remained, someone dug out a battered deck of cards.

"Truth or dare, but make it low effort," Some guy called Hendery declared, fanning the cards out dramatically.

Ten raised an eyebrow at Yangyang. "You in?"

Yangyang shrugged. "Why not. What's the worst that could happen?"

Famous last words. Again.

First few rounds were easy:

Truths like "what's your worst date story" and dares like "text your mum something weird."

Yangyang sailed through it, feeling weirdly brave after two cans of cider and a slice of questionable garlic bread.

But then it was his turn again, and Ten leaned forward with an evil grin.

"Truth," Ten said, tapping the deck. "Tell us your most irrational fear."

Yangyang groaned dramatically.

"Easy. Pigeons."

The group roared with laughter.

"I'm serious!" Yangyang insisted, grinning. "They're like... flying rats. And they have no fear. One chased me across a park once when I was a kid. I have trauma."

Ten was practically crying from laughing. "Pigeons?!"

"They know what they did..." Yangyang said darkly, crossing his arms.

By the time Yangyang stumbled home, just across the street, thank God, the night had settled into that soft, buzzy warmth that only good company and bad cider could create.

He flopped onto his bed fully clothed, the sounds of muffled laughter still echoing faintly through the open window.

He'd met so much people that night, so much he doubted he'd be able to remember them by the time he wakes up tomorrow. Those two guys DJing — what were they even called?? They seemed to have some sort of American accent maybe? Something like that..

For the first time since moving, the loneliness that had clung to him like a second skin finally began to loosen its grip.

It didn't take long for Yangyang to drift to sleep, worn out by all the socialisation. Talking to people is tiring when you're an introvert like him...

9: Halfway Home

Saturday morning slid into Yangyang's flat like a lazy cat — golden sunlight curling over the windowsill, the faint hum of traffic below, and the distant smell of someone burning toast two floors down.

He stretched, groaning softly, and checked his phone:

10:43 AM

Late, by bakery standards. But today was his day off! No early shifts, no flour explosions, no panicked croissant rescues.

He let himself stay in bed a little longer, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, smiling at a meme landlord meme Kun had sent him at 3AM.

Kun: This was me when painting your flat😂

Yangyang: Broo😳😳 I was wondering why there was an elephant spray painted to my wall😂😂

Kun: Lmfao😂 I told you it's 3d wallpaper..

Eventually, he stopped giggling at his phone as hunger dragged him out of bed.

He was halfway through making the world's saddest peanut butter toast when someone knocked on his door.

He opened it to find Ten standing there, coffee in one hand, plastic bag dangling from the other.

"Morning, sunshine," Ten said, already stepping inside like he lived there. "I come bearing gifts."

Yangyang blinked. "Uh... what?"

Ten dropped the bag onto the kitchen counter with a theatrical flourish. Inside: two massive breakfast burritos and a couple of hash browns that looked suspiciously homemade.

"I made too much," Ten said casually, sipping his coffee. "Figured you looked like you needed feeding."

Yangyang stared at him, touched but trying to play it cool.

"You trying to fatten me up or something?"

"Obviously," Ten said, deadpan. "Easier to steal your flat if you can't chase me."

Yangyang laughed, grabbing a burrito. "Joke's on you. I was always slow."

They ate perched on the arm of the couch, legs sprawled over battered cushions, half-watching some strange kids' show blaring from the TV.

Yangyang couldn't remember the last time a morning had felt this easy.

No pressure. No expectations. Just... being.

After a while, Ten glanced over, an almost shy grin flickering across his face.

"You busy today?"

Yangyang shook his head, mouth full of burrito. "Not unless you count reorganising my sock drawer."

Ten's smile widened. "Good. 'Cause I was thinking... you know that big flea market in Digbeth? Thought we could check it out. Apparently it's massive. Weird vintage stuff, food trucks, all that."

Yangyang perked up immediately.

He hadn't done much exploring beyond the bakery, the pub, and the three different Tesco Extras in a two-mile radius.

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "That sounds sick."

By noon, they were weaving through crowds at the Digbeth market, a riot of colours and noise around them.

Handmade jewelry stalls, walls of vinyl records, crates of vintage clothes, weird neon signs, one that said "LIVE LAUGH LOVE BUT MAKE IT METAL" that guy called Yuta from Ten's party would like that. It was all a beautiful, chaotic mess.

Yangyang poked through a box of secondhand boots while Ten argued loudly with a vendor over whether a battered leather jacket counted as "authentically vintage" or just "really gross."

At one point, Ten shoved a hideous tie-dye bucket hat onto Yangyang's head and declared, "You're ready for Coachella!"

Yangyang retaliated by sneaking a pair of tiny sunglasses onto Ten's face when he wasn't looking.

"You look like an anime villain," Yangyang said, doubled over laughing.

"Good," Ten said, striking a dramatic pose. "That's the goal."

They wandered like that for hours, getting lost among rows of food trucks — Yangyang insisting on trying everything "You haven't lived until you've had churros covered in marshmallow fluff!" while Ten pretended to be a food critic, rating each item out of ten.

Churros: 9/10. Flint and Meal: 5/10. Free lemonade that wasn't actually free because they made us sit and talk to them for half an hour: -5/10.

At some point, Yangyang realised he wasn't even thinking about his old life anymore — the auditions he didn't get, the dance jobs that slipped away, the people he used to chase approval from.

It didn't feel heavy today.

It barely felt real.

Later, as the sky started to bruise into soft pinks and blues, they found a quiet patch of grass by the canal to sit and rest.

Yangyang flopped down dramatically, arms flung wide, sighing. "Why is existing so exhausting?"

Ten chuckled, sitting cross-legged beside him. "It's the churros. They've weighed down your soul."

They sat there for a while, watching narrowboats drift by, the city humming around them. It wasn't loud, not like London.

Birmingham had a softer kind of pulse — steady, patient.

"You glad you moved?" Ten asked suddenly, voice quieter.

Yangyang thought about it.

About the first lonely nights above the chip shop.

About burning cookies and meeting Sicheng.

About Kun dragging him out for pints, and the random encounters that stitched themselves into a life — PinkPantheress at the coffee shop, Ed Sheeran at the bakery, Ten knocking on his door like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He smiled, looking over at Ten, who was idly plucking blades of grass and tossing them into the water.

"Yeah," Yangyang said honestly. "I think I am."

Ten glanced over, meeting his gaze for a beat longer than usual.

Something warm and unspoken passed between them — easy, steady, real.

"Good," Ten said simply.

They sat there until the sky darkened fully, until the streetlights buzzed to life, until Yangyang's stomach growled again (and Ten teased him mercilessly for it).

Eventually, they wandered back towards home, their steps light, their laughter trailing behind them in the cooling spring air.

Yangyang thought: maybe this is what starting over looks like.

Not fireworks.

Not a grand performance.

Just... little Saturdays like this.

Halfway home, and already better than he'd hoped.

#nct #wayv #yangyang #tenyang

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