#zanna don’t!
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cheezewhis · 2 years ago
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Me @ everyone in Zanna Dont
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slytherinshua · 2 months ago
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anyone else who did ballet as a child, quit, and now is endlessly nostalgic and yearning to go back but also doesn’t miss some sides of it
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doyouknowthismusical · 1 year ago
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ragnars-tooth · 2 years ago
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God FORBID women do anything
Pri:magon zanna is rattling around in my brain like a shiny penny and she must be let out on occasion for some crime and relaxation
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planetkiimchi · 2 months ago
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i knew it first | z.cl
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"i'm in love, i'm in love, i'm in love with the boy next door." (series masterlist)
featuring: neighbour!chenle x gn!reader, cameos by johnny, winwin, joy, suzy, dokyeom, renjun, jisung, ningning
word count: 15278 words
warnings: a little bit of swearing (i tried to keep it to a minimum), food mentions, some angst bc would it really be my fic if i don't give my characters major issues am i right 🤩
summary — chenle's pretty sure his crush on you is obvious. it's a little stupid, really, just how in love he is with you. but it's even more foolish how you don't seem to realise until he confesses properly. you can lie and say you knew he liked you all along, but he'll stand by the fact that he knew you liked him first.
author's note: happy birthday, my wonderful zanna @slytherinshua <3 thank you for being the most supportive friend EVER, for always being open to doing face quizzes (and for being so patient when i get them wrong), and for always trying to engage everyone in the server or the community. i hope you have the most wonderful month and that you get all the good things you deserve!
At 22, you were accustomed to solitude. Your career path as an actor had started ever since you were a child, and you were one of the few kids on set who didn’t cry when your parents left. Your parents took this as a sign to enrol you in acting classes, and you joined theatre in high school.
By the time you graduated high school, you were performing in musicals locally, often practising with the rest of the crew late into the night. Each run needed to be as perfect as possible, and the pressure could get to your head sometimes, which was when you would take a step back, speak to your friends—especially Winwin—and find your footing before you went back to practising.
You had quite a strong support system within the performers, but outside of them, you didn’t have anyone else.
You moved out of your parents’ house shortly after you turned 22. While it was, in some sense, a financial burden for your family, you and your parents had agreed that it was worth it, especially since your schedule was erratic and you often came home late, disrupting their sleep. It wasn’t like you saw them often anyway, so you all came to the conclusion that it would be better for you to move out.
“Sicheng,” you called, winding through the house with a mug in your hand. “Sicheng, where are you?” Winwin emerged from the living room, phone in hand, his eyebrows raised. “What?” “Oh, I just had a question.” Winwin turned away, taking a seat on the couch and crossing his right ankle over his left knee. “Sit.” Once you were seated, he turned his body to face you, and with a posture of attentiveness, asked, “What’s up?” “Should I have a housewarming party? I don’t know if it’s a good idea, what if the neighbours are my fans and they harass me for the entire time I live here once they find out who I am?” Winwin looked at you curiously. “Okay, wait, slow down. You don’t even like parties.” You avoided his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Well, yeah, but—” “No buts. If you don’t want a housewarming party, then just don’t hold one,” Winwin concluded, leaning back into the couch.
“But… It's not that I don’t want to host a housewarming party either. I do want to celebrate having a new house, it’s just…” “Socially exhausting?” Winwin supplied.
“...yeah.” Winwin picked up a pen from the coffee table, spinning it around as he hummed. “What kind of party do you want to have?” “Maybe potluck?” “That could work. You could send invitations to whichever friends you want to come, and ask them each to bring some food. It’ll just be food and talking, and maybe some wine. I’ve got a karaoke machine at home, I could bring it over and we could set that up. It’ll be fun!” “Really?” you asked. “You’d do that?” “Yeah, why not?” “I mean, it’s not like you like parties either…” “You’re my friend, Y/n. It’s not socially exhausting being with you.. The rest of them are my friends too. It’ll be just a hangout for us,” Winwin promised.
“Okay.”
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Two weeks later, cars started pulling into the carpark near your apartment, and you watched the familiar cars on the street from your window. “They’re here!” you exclaimed, going into the kitchen where Winwin was removing the lasagna from the oven.
“Oh?” Winwin placed the lasagna on the table, just as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” Winwin let out a laugh at your jittery state as you hurried to the door to open it. Jaehyun stood there at the door, a bouquet in hand, with Joy by his side.
“Welcome! Come in, come in,” you told them, gratefully receiving the flowers. Winwin led them into the house as you went to find a vase for the flowers. Joy set the food down on the dining table, remarking that the lasagna smelled heavenly.
Slowly, the guests began to arrive, first Suzy, followed by Dokyeom shortly after. Johnny, the company manager, was among the last few to arrive, but he was easily forgiven by virtue of his dazzling smile and the expensive wine he had brought.
Once everyone had arrived, the plates were distributed and food was served. Over the hot, steaming meal, everyone shared their congratulations, and you received a number of compliments on the lasagna.
The conversation proceeded to take the direction of the musical you were currently practising for, and several jokes that you should end practice earlier were made, but Johnny shook his head and smiled knowingly (you all knew that meant practice could very well be extended instead of shortened).
Once the food was finished, Winwin headed to the living room to set up the karaoke machine, while the guests brought the soiled cutlery to the kitchen, where they placed it in the sink before visiting the washroom.
As they started heading towards the living room, the doorbell rang, and you furrowed your brows in confusion.
You made your way to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole before opening it. In front of you stood a young man about your age, his hair slightly dishevelled, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.
“Who’s that?” Winwin called. When you continued to remain silent, he set down the microphone and went over to take a look.
“Hi,” the man said. “I’m Chenle, your neighbour. My family and I noticed there were some guests earlier, are you having a housewarming party?”
You swallowed your saliva and nodded hesitantly. “Yes. Sorry, were we being too loud? I can tell them to keep their noise level down.” Personally, though, you hadn’t thought that you had been noisy. Was your neighbour one of those people that could only function in absolute silence? “Oh no, no,” Chenle laughed, waving his hands in front of him to dispel the thought. “You haven’t been noisy at all. We just wanted to pass you some pizza—my family runs a pizzeria, you see—to say welcome to the neighbourhood! Our flat is just opposite yours,” he pointed.
“Oh, wow. Thank you!” you replied.
“It’s no problem. Well, I’ll be going. Enjoy your party! I’ll see you around.” Smiling, Chenle waved at you and went back home.
You turned to Winwin, shutting the door before you whisper-yelled, “He’s cute!”
Winwin rolled his eyes and pulled on your ear, ignoring your cry of pain. “Honestly. What goes on in your head?”
Before you could reply, a screech from the living room caused both of you to turn your heads. You burst out into laughter as you caught sight of Johnny attempting to belt out a high note, his face red with exertion. Your friends were gathered around him in a circle, legs crossed, with Johnny being the sole exception. He stood in the centre, fist clenched, bent over as he sang into the microphone—that is, if it could be considered singing.
Breathless, he handed the microphone over to Joy, who blessed your ears with her melodious voice, amidst the dying laughter. Dokyeom handed him a glass of water, and he gulped it down, leaning against the sofa with a dramatic sigh.
You brought the pizza with you as you and Winwin headed over, settling onto the carpet as the song continued to play.
Dokyeom raised his head, locking eyes with you. Once you were seated, he tilted his head towards the door. “What was that about?”
“My new neighbour.”
“He’s cute,” Dokyeom commented.
“I know!” you replied, rolling your eyes. Opening the pizza box, the smell of freshly cooked pizza filled the air, and you handed a slice to Joy, who was staring at the pizza hungrily.
“Want one?” Dokyeom nodded, and you handed him a slice, before biting into a slice of your own pizza. The gooey, cheesy slice melted in your mouth, and you sighed happily.
“I told Winwin that the guy was cute, but he brushed it off,” you tell Dokyeom.
“He probably doesn’t want you replacing him,” Dokyeom said. “Want a lollipop?”
You received it, sucking on it contemplatively. After a moment, you took it out of your mouth, reaching over to tap Winwin on the shoulder.
“You know I’d never replace you, right?”
Winwin’s brows knitted together in a moment of confusion, but that expression was quickly replaced by one of amusement. “I know.”
“Good.” You retracted your hand, leaning forward to squint at the lyrics as the microphone was passed to you.
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As the night came to an end, your friends gathered up the empty containers strewn about, collecting their belongings. More than one of them downed a glass of water, proceeding to head to the bathroom afterwards.
You wiped down the table before sending your friends off, waving at each one of them in turn.
“Thank you for coming,” you repeated.
“Thank you for inviting us!” Suzy smiled.
“Tell us about that cute boy,” Dokyeom said with a wink, scurrying off before you could respond.
“What— Seokmin!” Winwin reached out to place a hand on your shoulder, and you turned to face him.
“Do you need help with anything else?”
You shook your head. “Go home and get some rest.”
Winwin gave you a quick hug, waved and left.
With a sigh, you plopped onto the couch, gaze trailing over the empty house. The exhaustion was just beginning to catch up to you, and you let out a tired yawn. You ran a tired hand through your hair, sweeping it out of the way as you went into the kitchen, taking up a wet sponge and squeezing out a bit of dish soap before scrubbing at the dirty dishes.
Once that was done, you wiped down the table, swept the floor, and threw all the trash into the bin. Then, you bagged your trash and took it out.
As you locked your door, you noticed a piece of paper hung to the doorknob by a string. You removed it, taking a look at the words written on it.
dear neighbour,
i realised i forgot to get your name! anyway, here’s my number so you can contact me whenever.
chenle
You pocketed the piece of paper, and as you passed by Chenle’s house, you smiled a little at the shoes neatly placed on the shoe rack—mostly sneakers—wondering which ones were his.
After taking out the trash, you took a long, hot shower, letting all the tiredness dissolve from your body. You blow dried your hair, clambered into bed, and looked at your phone, which was blowing up with pictures from the earlier party.
You sent a quick ‘thank you’ message, resolving to go through the photographs slowly the next day, and sent a text to Chenle instead.
unknown: hey chenle, this is y/n, your neighbour :)
He replied almost immediately.
chenle (cute boy next door): hey y/n! it’s quite late, get some rest first? i’d love to hear how you're settling in y/n (neighbour): yep, you too
Placing your phone on the nightstand to be charged, you soon drifted off to sleep.
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Hands braced against the floor, you did two back walkovers while the music slowly trailed off. The last note faded as Dokyeom’s voice quietened.
“Halt!” The two of you turned to the direction of the sound, and you took a few tentative steps back until you were next to Dokyeom. Dressed in a shirt and jeans, Winwin wasn’t very intimidating, but his tall stature and serious expression made up for it.
The silence ensued for a few seconds before Winwin sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “Sorry. Line?”
The lights blinked on, and Johnny emerged at the foot of the stage. All eyes turned to him as he spoke, not loudly, but clear enough for his voice to travel.
“Alright, let’s take 5. Sicheng, you okay? Do you need to read your lines?”
Winwin nodded, then leapt down from the stage, grabbing his water bottle from one of the front row seats. He drank slowly before replacing his bottle and snatching up his script. The neon yellow highlights blurred as he shook out the script in frustration, flipping to the page he needed.
“Halt, what do you think you’re doing, you street rat?” he muttered, repeating it over and over again under his breath.
You sat on the edge of the stage with Dokyeom, catching your breath. You took a swig of water and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Dokyeom nudged you, and you turned to face him. “Hm?”
“How are you getting home? Is Sicheng still going to drop you off?” When you lived with your parents, you would always carpool with Winwin, since your house was on the way home for him.
You shook your head. Since moving house, it was no longer convenient for Winwin to drop you off. “Suzy offered to drop me off,” you told Dokyeom.
Dokyeom nodded. “That’s good. It isn’t safe to make your way home alone when it’s dark.”
“I know, Mum.” Dokyeom rolled his eyes at the jab. Checking his watch, he got to his feet, extending an arm to help you up. You took his hand and he pulled you to your feet with ease, the two of you setting your bottles down out of the way before assuming your places again.
Winwin hurried up the steps to the stage, eyes scouring the floor for the yellow crosses that demarcated his spot, and heading into the wing just next to it.
Johnny clapped his hands thrice, the loud sound resounding throughout the studio. “Ok everybody, breaktime is up! Let’s get back to rehearsing.”
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The rehearsal ended at 10pm, which meant it was already 11 when you stepped out of the elevator at your floor. You were slightly delirious from the lack of sleep, having stayed up late the night before to tidy up your house. Rocking on your heels, you pressed a hand to your temples to ease the headache building up behind your eyes, taking a few steps forward.
Walking proved to be a challenge, as your foot came into contact with an obstacle. Blinking your bloodshot eyes, you identified the obstacle as a delivery box.
Several delivery boxes, in fact. No less than 10 delivery boxes were strewn across the corridor between your apartment and Chenle’s. You shut your eyes for a brief moment of reprieve, and when you opened them again, the boxes remained.
So you weren’t hallucinating. Frowning, you slowly weaved your way between the cardboard boxes. At your door, you braced one hand against the door frame as you removed your shoes, placing them on the rack and locking the door behind you.
You contemplated asking Chenle to move the boxes, but it was late and you didn’t intend to disturb him. You hadn’t actually seen him for the whole day, you realised. Perhaps his working hours and yours didn’t overlap.
y/n (neighbour): pls move ur delivery boxes 🙏
Not long after sending the text, you drifted off to sleep.
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You woke the next morning to banging against your door. Concerned, you flipped your phone screen up, only to realise that it wasn’t even noon yet. With a long, drawn out groan, you rubbed your eyes as you slid into your slippers and padded across the room.
You pulled the door open, stifling a yawn, seeing your friends outside.
“It’s too early for this,” you mumbled, heading back inside before they could say anything. Dokyeom hurried inside after you, yelling for you to hurry as you disappeared into the toilet.
You emerged from the bathroom, dangling your earrings against your earlobes as you looked at yourself in the mirror, deciding which accessories fit your outfit best.
Dokyeom stood by the door with his arms crossed, shouting, “Hurry up! We’ve got to get there before they break for lunch!”
You groaned, putting the other sets of earrings back into the drawer and slipping the ones you'd chosen into your piercings. You pulled your socks on in a hurry, not even bothering to put your shoes on properly as you rushed out after your friends. Your fingers slipped a couple of times as you tried to insert the key into the keyhole, until you finally managed it, while Joy yelled at you from inside the elevator to move quickly.
You rushed into the elevator, kneeling to tie your shoelaces and put your shoes on properly. Then it hit you.
"What kind of lunch place closes during lunch time?"
Dokyeom scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, about that... I kind of just said the first thing that came to mind that I thought would make you hurry, and it worked, didn't it?"
"Seokmin! Ah, never mind. It's fine." You stood up properly, adjusting the strap of your shoulder bag as you followed your friends out. You got in Jaehyun's car, with Dokyeom navigating in the passenger seat.
The ride wasn't long, and you pulled up to a deserted building, with "One Minute Pizza (一分钟披萨饼)" written in a deep shade of red.
You stepped out of the car, followed by Joy and Dokyeom, while Jaehyun drove off to find a parking lot in the carpark. Dokyeom took the lead and you followed behind him as he headed to the counter to look at the menu.
"Chenle?"
To your surprise, one of the workers at the counter taking orders was none other than the neighbour you had messaged the night before.
His expression remained friendly, the customer-service smile fixed upon his face as he finished attending to the customer in front of you. As you and your friends moved forward, he caught sight of you, breaking into a genuine smile.
“Y/n! Welcome, what can I get you?”
Dokyeom launched into his order, ordering enough pizzas for all of you to share. Joy would be stealing everyone else’s food anyway, so Dokyeom didn’t bother ordering anything for her. Once he was done ordering, Chenle repeated the order back to him, and Dokyeom took the receipt and went to sit down.
You lingered a little while longer, standing by the side so the next customer in line could move forward. After calling out the order to the kitchen, Chenle looked at you, eyes rolling up as he recalled something. “Oh, right! I moved the boxes. Did you get my text?”
You glanced at your phone, realising that you had several unread texts. You clicked on the one from Chenle, which read:
chenle (cute boy next door): mb 😓😓 just cleared them!
“Yeah, I did! Thanks for that, by the way.”
“No problem. My mum has a bit of a consumption problem, so the delivery boxes are a common hazard. Just let me know next time, and I'll move it for you, yeah? Don't want you to trip and fall.”
“Okay.”
Chenle smiled, apologising to the customer for the wait before taking their order.
Jaehyun joined you as you walked to your table, nudging your shoulder and whispering conspiratorially, “Who’s that?”
“My neighbour.”
“Oh, the cute one?” You whipped your head, hair smacking into your forehead. You brushed your bangs out of your eyes as you gaped at Jaehyun, mortified.
“You heard that?”
Jaehyun shrugged. “You were speaking about it with Dokyeom while you were sitting right behind me. It wasn't hard to overhear."
"Jae!"
Jaehyun grinned, sitting down opposite you, half his ass off the chair as he squeezed in next to Joy, stuffing a slice of pizza in his mouth. His voice was muffled as he said something about you being one of the most obvious people he'd ever met.
Joy leaned forward, elbows propped up on the table, chin resting on her hands as she darted her eyes pointedly in Chenle's direction. "So, what's the plan?"
"What plan?"
Dokyeom squinted at you, brows furrowed. "Y/n, please don't tell me you're that dense." When you continued staring blankly at him, he pulled away with a sigh. "I guess you are. The plan to make Chenle your boyfriend, of course."
You choked on your drink, coughing violently while Dokyeom patted your back. Sputtering, you turned to face the culprit, who only looked at you innocently.
"Lee Seokmin!" you whisper-yelled. "Can you please not say that while he's right there?"
Dokyeom nodded appeasingly and waved a hand at the food. "Okay, okay. Go on and eat, we're actually going to be late if you're slow."
You checked your watch and scarfed down the pizza. However, Joy, who had already finished eating, had other priorities. Leaning back, she crossed her arms and said seriously, "I personally think you should find out if they have neighbours’ meetings. It'd be great in helping you assimilate into the community, while also getting to know a certain someone a little better."
Between bites of food, you considered this proposition before deciding that it wouldn't do you any harm. You nodded to acknowledge Joy's suggestion, before you finally finished eating and everyone stood up to return the trays while you wiped your mouth clean with a napkin.
"So," you started, while the four of you briskly made your way to the car, "I'll do what Joy says and update you all once I've done it."
Jaehyun let out a laugh. "Why do you make it sound so serious?"
You frowned, offended, but your conversation was interrupted when you locked eyes with Chenle, who smiled and waved at you. You waved back happily, a happy glow settling on your cheeks.
“Dear God,” Jaehyun groaned. “He’s already making you delusional.”
You swatted him, and he quickly amended, "Not delusional! A perfectly sane human who will be telling us all about their attempts to gain Chenle’s love!”
You harrumphed, taking long steps with your legs straightened out, until Joy wrapped her hands around you and laughed joyfully. “Come now, Y/n! They're just teasing.”
You stuck your tongue out the side of your mouth and glared at Jaehyun. He shrugged uselessly and you finally relented.
“Fine, I’ll tell you all about it. If anything happens.”
“When anything happens, you mean. Have some faith in Joy’s plan,” Dokyeom interjected, winking at Joy.
She grinned back at him and you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”
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The studio was warm with the body heat radiating off the few of you piled up on each other, limbs strewn out in a tangled fashion, heads resting on anything soft you could find. Your head was buried deep within your sweater, which you had laid upon the wooden floor, and Winwin was snuggled up into your side. Somewhere, Suzy and Dokyeom were also lying among the scripts and pens lying on the floor, heads supported by their forearms and each other’s legs.
Nobody dared to move much—if they did, they might tickle whoever they were leaning on, and if they breathed too deeply, the person lying on them might shift away. Anyway, everyone was too tired to move much, mouthing their own lines to themselves, occasionally thumbing to the next page or groaning in frustration. You propped your elbows up and struggled into a half-sitting, half-lying down position, glancing over at Johnny, who was speaking to one of the stage crew while gesturing wildly to the stack of props next to them.
Joy awakened from her nap, rubbing her eyes as she looked around. “What time is it?” she asked, spotting you as the only one who wasn’t busy with something else.
“5.50,” you replied. Joy nodded, pulling her shoes back on, before tucking her hands into the deep pockets of her jacket and getting to her feet.
She walked over from her corner of the room to your spot on the floor, crashing next to you, causing Winwin to look up at the sound, eyes rolling up. Joy waved at him and smiled.
Winwin smiled back, rolling over onto his stomach as he surveyed the studio. He rubbed his hands together, then pressed the back of his palm against your neck, and you shuddered at how cold he was.
His body was warm, but his fingers weren’t, so you passed him the sweater that you had been lying on, and he buried his hands within it to gain some of the warmth you had transferred to it.
Your phone buzzed as you clambered to your feet. You pulled it out from your pocket, mouth widening in shock when you read the message.
“Joy,” you whispered urgently, tugging on her sleeve, “What does it mean when someone says they have a surprise for you?”
Joy let out a sharp, delighted gasp. “What?” Her shocked reply pulled Dokyeom out of his trance, and your friends gathered around your phone while Winwin stretched his legs out, a short distance away, weight resting on his palms as he watched you with an amused smile playing on his lips, head tilted to one side.
Joy skimmed through the messages quickly, her smile fading when she finished reading all of them. “I don’t think it means much, since he said his friend bought it for him. It kind of sounds like he’s just using you so he doesn’t feel guilty about letting the gift go to waste.”
“Ah,” you sighed, disappointed. “So it’s nothing special?”
Joy shrugged. “I mean, he’s giving you something, and that means he at least remembers you and is friendly towards you.”
“Can’t take care of these kinds of things well?” Dokyeom interjected, reading off the message, and you smiled inwardly at how delayed his reaction was. “What, is he giving you some kind of living organism or something?”
“... Shit.” You pressed your hand to your forehead. “You don't think he got me a plant, do you?”
Nervous laughter escaped Joy’s lips, shortly followed by Suzy’s full-on chortling. Soon, the sound of laughter in the room was so loud that you could barely hear Johnny calling for the actors to come back to the centre. That was, until his voice, amplified by the microphone strapped to his body, clearly enunciated, “Lee Dokyeom and company, if you’re not over here in one minute, you can all kiss goodbye to your current roles.”
The laughter soon died down to smothered giggles as you ran over to the sides of the studio that you were starting on, Jaehyun nudging you as you rehearsed your lines by the side. “Didn’t you kill the bean sprouts you tried to grow in elementary school?”
You rolled your eyes. Ever since Winwin had given you a plant for your birthday and your parents had let slip that you were notoriously bad at taking care of anything living, including yourself, your friends had never let you live it down.
“Yes, Jae, that’s old news. Shouldn’t there be other things for you to think about right now? Say, like making sure you don’t accidentally start rapping your lines?”
Jaehyun groaned. “That was one time, Y/n–“
Before he could say any more, you were scurrying into the middle, one hand on Dokyeom’s shoulder as you bounced on the balls of your feet. You pretended to lose balance, falling forward into a front roll, and Dokyeom rushed forward, peering over the half-completed balcony prop.
“Abu!”
You got to your feet, dramatically dusting off your shoulders before grinning widely at Dokyeom, head cheekily cocked to one side before you leapt back behind the balcony prop.
All thoughts of Chenle were soon pushed to the back of your mind as you immersed yourself in the role.
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Those thoughts never left the back of your mind, however, and they still plagued you as you sipped the ice-cold water from the water cooler and swirled your noodles around, taking slow bites while Suzy ate contentedly.
“You okay?”
You shrugged, forcing yourself to take another bite before looking at the empty bowl and sighing heavily. Rehearsal had ended earlier than expected, and it was barely 10pm, yet you felt more tired than usual.
“I guess I’m just a little tired of life.”
Suzy raised her eyebrows, reaching over to hug you wordlessly. When she pulled away, her hand remained on your shoulder as she made eye contact with you. Each word she said was intentional and carefully enunciated as she told you, “That’s normal. We all get a little tired of life sometimes, especially when we’re nearing a big production and hours are long, making it easy for us to lose sight of what the goal is. Just remember that you have us—” she gestured vaguely in the direction of the empty studio—“and that we’re always here for you.”
You nodded, slumping against the table and burying your head in your hands. “It’s just– I want to love and be loved, you know? And it’s so hard to do that in this day and age.”
Suzy smiled ruefully and hummed in understanding. “I know it’s tough. I won’t lie and say it gets better, but at some point we all figure out something that works for us. Just hang in there for a while, you’ll find your way too.”
Her words hung in your mind the entire ride home, even as you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for your floor. You took advantage of the short elevator ride to take a break, shutting your eyes until the “ding” sound of the elevator doors opening called you back to reality. 
You were greeted by a potted plant sitting next to your shoe rack when you came up to your door, and you slipped your shoes off and picked up the plant, pushing open the door to your house. You set the plant down on your dining table, glad that there was a plate underneath to prevent the water from leaking onto your floor.
You left the plant there while you went to wash up, and came back afterwards with your phone in hand.
Sitting at the table, you turned the plant around aimlessly, contemplating what to do with this “surprise” your neighbour had given you with pure intentions. A white sticker caught your attention, and you began to search up the name, looking up what kind of care it needed. Fortunately for you, it was a succulent and fairly low maintenance; although you knew that you were still perfectly capable of killing it.
You decided to put it on your window sill, where it was sure to get plenty of direct sunlight while you were fast asleep, and watered it sparingly. You sat at the table, admiring the view of the plant anyone else would have if they were to step foot inside the house, a smile breaking out across your face.
You caught yourself, shocked at how quickly you had come to accept the gift, despite your earlier protests about owning a plant.
Before you could think any better of it, you were dialling Winwin’s number.
He picked up the video call, groggily wiping at his half-closed eyes. “Honestly, Y/n, have you ever heard of this thing called ‘sleeping’? It’s really good. You should try it.”
“I have a succulent. On my window sill. And I'm happy thinking about how it’ll look every time I come home.”
“Wow,” Winwin drawled. “What a tragedy.”
“I’m serious, Sicheng. I’ve never managed to keep a plant alive before. But the moment Chenle gives me one, I'm staying up late trying to figure out how best to take care of it. Do you know how terrifying that is?”
Winwin rubbed his face tiredly. “Do you need me to come over? You sound like you’re having a crisis.”
You shook your head. “No, can you just… Stay on the call with me?”
Winwin nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”
A moment of silence ensued before he asked, “So, what’s up? Suzy told me you were feeling a little tired of life.”
You shrugged. “I don't know, I'm just… thinking a lot, I guess. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship.”
Three years, to be exact. Your high school sweetheart had lasted all of four years before deciding halfway through university that your “high commitment to theatre” made it “impossible” for the two of you to work out.
Since then, you had never been in a relationship, though not for lack of trying—you simply had high standards that were difficult to meet, and all your previous dates had barely met the bare minimum. Once, you had jokingly suggested that you and Winwin date, but he had turned down the offer without blinking. In hindsight, dating within the troupe would have been messy whether or not the two of you broke up.
“Y/n,” Winwin called, pulling you out of your stupor.
You blinked at him. “Yeah?”
“Nothing. Just, talk to me, yeah? You know I can’t read your mind.”
You nodded. “I know. I was just thinking.”
“We’ve discussed this. If you want to talk to me, you’re going to actually have to talk. You can't just be silent and expect me to understand.”
“Can't we just sit in silence for a while?” you asked pleadingly.
Winwin shook his head. “You know what comes from sitting in silence. Those thoughts in your head never go silent, do they? You’re going to have to voice them aloud for me to know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m just wondering if I really like Chenle, or if I’m seeking out love to the point that I mistake any form of human interaction outside of our group as a potential romantic relationship.”
Winwin’s gaze softened. “I think you’re being paranoid. Your feelings are completely valid, don't discredit them like that. Why don't you just wait it out and see? There’s no harm in getting to know him better.”
“But you know me, Sicheng. You know I’m scared to commit. I'm scared to lead him on and then dip when he reciprocates.”
Winwin smiled ruefully. “Haven’t you ever heard of facing your fears? You’re good at stepping out of your comfort zone. What changed?”
You shrugged, playing with the hem of your shirt. You stood from your spot in the dining area, making your way into the bedroom, where you snuggled under the covers as Winwin watched you expectantly.
“I guess you’re right. There’s no harm in getting to know him better. I am planning to stay in this place for a long while.”
Winwin grinned. “That’s the Y/n I know. Get some sleep, you’re going to have to talk to Chenle tomorrow.”
You frowned, mouth opening to ask what he meant, but you were too slow. As always, Winwin was one step ahead, hanging up before you could say anything.
sicheng: don't think i’ve forgotten about your promise to execute joy’s plan sicheng: i'll make sure you carry it out tmrw
You sighed. You weren’t sure whether to be grateful to have a friend like Winwin.
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It was drizzling when you stepped out of the elevator, a light breeze blowing into the lift lobby. Other than the quiet whistle of the wind, everything else was silent—just how you liked it.
You took your time taking off your shoes, leisurely unlocking your door, when you heard the click of someone else’s lock and the sound of a door opening. You turned around, only to see Chenle dressed in a hoodie and shorts, his tousled hair obscuring his face.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, barely managing to tame it, when he finally looked up from his feet to you. His slippers remained forgotten on the shoe rack by the door as you made eye contact, breathing out a soft “oh”.
Chenle froze, hand groping about for the doorknob, then deciding to forget about it and slipping his feet into a pair of slippers. He stepped away from the door frame, shutting the gate behind him, and jerking his head at you.
“Just got back?”
“Yeah.” There was a pause while you contemplated asking Chenle if he was drunk, but he answered your question before it was even out of your mouth.
“I’m sober, by the way. Just hungry. I was going to head out to the store nearby to get some noodles, do you wanna come?”
You looked down at yourself, then back at the open door, into the empty apartment where there was nothing waiting for you anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to go with Chenle, right?
“Sure.”
Both of you stopped just before exiting the apartment building, opening your umbrellas as you stepped out into the rain, one after another, The wind had picked up, and the rain was starting to grow heavier, blowing into your face.
Chenle tugged the hood of his jacket up, cocking his head to one side. You followed him, staying silent on the walk there until Chenle spoke up.
“So, what’s your job? Do you often end this late?”
You side-stepped to avoid stepping into a puddle, not looking up as you replied, “I’m an actor.”
“You act in movies?”
You shook your head, then remembered he probably couldn’t see you with it being so dark outside. “I’m preparing for a musical.”
Chenle came to an abrupt halt, and you stopped walking, tearing your eyes away from his worn trainers to meet his eyes. You tried not to think too hard about the amusement in his black eyes, or the way it made them sparkle just a little, even with the sky being pitch black all around you.
“SorryIwasbusylookingatyourshoes,” you mumbled, all in a rush.
“What?” Chenle leaned in, and you took two frantic steps backwards.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said!” you yelled, then covered your mouth immediately. Nothing was going to plan!
Chenle let out a chuckle and you glanced at him, trying to decipher the look in his eyes as he smiled at you. “Am I making you nervous?”
“No.” You tried not to let your voice waver when you repeated it. “No, I’m not nervous. What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really talk to people much unless they’re customers, or when I’m playing on the court. It’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation. I didn’t want to cross a line, so let me know if anything I’m doing is making you nervous.”
“You’re not– you’re not making me nervous, Chenle. I’m fine.”
Chenle’s lip curled up slightly. “You remembered my name.”
“Yeah.”
Chenle started walking again, and you matched his pace, trying not to think too hard about what was coming out of your mouth, or why he might have gone silent.
“What kind of noodles do you like?”
You frowned, trying to think of all the noodles you had ever tried. Winwin had definitely taken you out to some Chinese restaurants before, but the only thing you remembered was that noodles were “mien”, which wasn’t helpful in your current situation at all.
“Um, I’ll eat any kind? Chow mien, maybe?”
“Chǎo miàn,” Chenle repeated, and you weren’t sure if he was correcting you. “Yeah, I can do that. That just means fried noodles, though. What kind of noodles do you want me to fry?”
“Oh, uh–“ you stuttered anxiously. “I’m not– I’m not really sure? I’m fine with whatever, really.” I don’t know what the names of the different noodles are, and I don’t want to sound like an idiot in front of you, you added to yourself.
“Okay. Lā miàn it is, then.”
You repeated it softly to yourself under your breath, and were surprised when Chenle corrected your pronunciation. You hadn’t expected him to have such keen hearing, nor had you expected him to actually care about how you pronounced it. Winwin had never really cared; you thought that he had probably given up a while back, after hopelessly trying to get you to say “nǐ hǎo” for one of the jokes he had made to you.
Chenle was quite the opposite.
He was extremely persistent, to the point that it should have been annoying, but you were honestly just happy that the conversation wasn’t dying down.
While he led you through the noodle aisle, confidently making his way to where the lā miàn was, he pointed out the other kinds of noodles, making you practise saying the name of each one before he moved on. By the time he finally reached the lā miàn boxes, you were on the verge of snatching a box of uncooked noodles off the shelves and dragging Chenle out, just so he would stop criticising the way you struggled to pronounce the tones.
As Chenle scanned the noodles, you finally mustered up the courage to ask, “Chenle, do you guys have neighbourly meetings?”
“What?” he replied, distractedly tapping one of the options on the screen and tapping his card to pay for the noodles. He tore the receipt off, barely looking at it as he folded it and put it in his pocket, before turning his attention to you. “What are neighbourly meetings?”
“You know, like when you meet up with your neighbours and, I don’t know, discuss stuff pertaining to your apartment flats, or maybe just play pool?”
Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Did you have that in your previous building?” he asked, walking out. You weren’t far behind, inwardly letting out a sigh of relief when you noticed that the rain had lightened up.
“…no?”
Chenle let out a laugh that had your heart pounding in your chest, youthful and genuine, and you wondered why you had never seen him outside with his friends. If you were his friend, you would want to spend every waking second with him, just to hear his cheerful laughter and infectious joy.
“Then what makes you think we would have it?”
“I don’t know.” You decided not to tell him that Joy had suggested it, and you had never really stopped to consider if it was something that people even implemented anymore.
“I guess we do have something similar, but we haven’t held them in a while. We call them ‘Fifth Floor Film Fridays’, or F4 for short.”
“Sounds a little cringe, don’t you think?”
“Hey, watch your words. I came up with the name.”
“My bad. Didn’t know you were cool like that,” you said, tucking the handle of your umbrella under your armpit so you could raise both hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Thanks. Anyway, Renjun came up with the idea so we could speak to Jisung, since he had just moved into the flat at the time. You know how each floor only has four flats? Well, Renjun and I lived in two of the flats, and there was an old man living in yours. He used to give us candy when he saw us coming back from school,” Chenle reminisced.
“He always had his door open, with only the gate closed as he sat on his rocking chair and read the newspaper. He passed away a year ago, and his children have been trying to sell the flat for a while before you bought it. Either way, at the time the only other kid on our floor was Jisung, but he was shy and kind of awkward and always looked the other way when we saw him in the corridors in school.”
You couldn’t imagine what that would be like. If Chenle ever tried to speak to you in high school, you were sure that you would eagerly reciprocate his energy, even if you were later teased by your friends about it.
“So, Renjun and I talked loudly about F4 when we passed by him one day, and I pretended to remember that Jisung lived on our floor too, and ‘conveniently’ asked him to join.”
“…and it worked?”
“Of course! We just haven’t had them in a while, since, you know, we were all in university. But Renjun and I have both graduated, and Jisung’s never been one for studying, so I’m sure I could tell them to make time this Friday.”
When you didn’t reply, Chenle added, “You’re free then, right?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I am,” you lied. You weren’t sure if Johnny would let you take the time off, but you were sure if you tried to beg, you could probably pull it off.
“Then it’s set,” Chenle said, unlocking his door. You left your shoes outside by the door, padding softly across the floor, too scared to make any noise. Chenle locked the door, then pressed his index finger to his lips in a shushing motion, leading you into the kitchen.
He turned the light on, glancing at the bedroom door, presumably to ensure that his parents hadn’t woken up.
“You can just take a seat,” he told you, taking cutlery and two bowls from the cupboards. You took them from him, setting them on the dining table while he retrieved the various ingredients for the fried noodles and set a pot of water on the stove to boil.
“Last time I cooked for someone else, I was trying to impress someone I had over,” he said, conversationally.
“Oh yeah? How did that work out?”
He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “It didn’t. I just felt the need to cook for them because they only ever came to the family pizzeria to see me, and they would always compliment me on the pizza, but I don’t actually make those. I just collate orders and tell my parents what the customers want.”
Rolling his eyes, he continued, “So obviously, it hurt my ego that they didn’t know all about my cooking prowess. And because I’m so painfully Chinese, of course I subjected them to all the Chinese vegetable dishes my parents made for me growing up. They barely touched any of it because, as it turned out, they didn’t like eating their vegetables.”
“What were they, five?” you scoffed.
Chenle grinned. “I know, right? My parents told me not to invite anyone else who couldn’t eat the food I cooked after that.”
“Oh yeah? And what if I don’t like your cooking?”
Chenle smiled threateningly. “I’ll kick you out without hesitation.”
“It’s good that I’m not picky, then.” You stood up from your chair, walking over to watch Chenle strain the hot noodles and cool them down with ice before tossing what felt like random sauces into the pan and stir-frying the noodles.
“Can I help?”
Chenle hummed. “Not really. I mean, you’re still a guest.”
“Okay.” You watched him from a safe distance, stepping aside when he turned off the fire to allow him to walk towards the dining table and scoop half of the noodles into each bowl.
“Enjoy.”
You picked up your chopsticks, clicking them twice before thanking Chenle for the food and taking a bite.
Chenle, for all his bravado, didn’t move to take a bite until a smile broke out on your face, and he looked visibly relieved when you didn’t criticise his cooking. He began to eat his own noodles, not forgetting to compliment himself, and you agreed with raised eyebrows and a sigh. 
Afterwards, he walked you to the door, waiting until you had closed the door behind you to return into his own house, beginning to wash the dishes.
Meanwhile, you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with shampoo running down your neck, wondering how the hell you had ended up eating stir-fried noodles at Chenle’s place at midnight.
Once out of the bathroom, though, you had come to terms with the fact that it was a real thing that had happened, and not just some kind of hallucination. When your hair was dry, you lay down in bed, burying your face into your pillow and screaming.
Then, before you could think too much about it, you resolved to go to sleep.
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Blocking was your worst enemy. It always had been for someone like you, who always forgot that the stage had limited space and you all had to move around while being aware of each others’ presence.
You did a cartwheel for what felt like the hundredth time, wobbling on your feet as you tried to regain your balance, hand pressed to your forehead in an attempt to ease the headache caused by the blood rushing to your brain. Johnny glared at you and you realised that you were half a metre away from where you were supposed to be. Still dizzy from the amount of time you had spent upside down, you took a few shaky steps to the yellow cross demarcating the spot you were supposed to be in.
“Stop, let’s take 5. Y/n, you okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I just can't do it full-out, my hands are shaking,” you told him softly, holding your hands out for him to see that they were trembling.
Johnny took one long, hard look at you and shook his head. “You’re taking tomorrow evening off.”
“What?”
“We’re all taking tomorrow evening off, in fact. Let’s make it a long weekend.”
Still confused, you stared at him as he announced it to everyone, gesturing for you to drink water. You came back right after, tapping Johnny on the shoulder as you asked, “Why are we having a long weekend?”
Johnny smiled warmly. “I forget you guys are still young sometimes. You shouldn’t be spending your early 20s burning yourselves out like this. Get some rest, watch a movie or something.”
“That’s what he said,” you told Joy, who had just asked how you managed to get Johnny to call Friday evening off. She smiled, hugging her knees close to her chest as she looked at you.
“He really has a soft spot for the younger ones,” she mused. “So, how are you spending your Friday off? Any plans?”
You laughed softly, thinking about how you’d asked Chenle if there were any neighbours’ meetings you could attend. “I do, actually. Turns out my neighbours do this thing called ‘Fifth Floor Film Fridays’ sometimes.”
“Tacky name,” Joy commented.
“Chenle came up with it.”
“Ah. Then it’s tasteful.”
You let out a snort. “No need for the switch-up. I thought it was pretty tacky too. But that’s not important, what’s important is that I'm going over to his house tonight for it.”
Joy leaned forward, a glimmer in her eyes as she said, “Run it by me. What you’re bringing, what time you’re going to be there, who’s going to be there. Tell me all about it.”
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Later that night, you were holding down the lid of your frying pan while you popped the corn kernels you had just bought in a pan full of butter, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t end in catastrophe.
After what seemed like forever, the timer on your phone finally rang, and you removed the lid triumphantly, tossing the popcorn around so they wouldn’t stick to the pan. Luckily, the method you had used seemed to work, and you only had to throw out a small amount of unpopped kernels while pouring the popcorn into an open container for it to cool down.
You washed the pan and checked out your outfit in the mirror one last time before spraying a mild perfume on your wrists and pressing them against the sides of your neck.
Carrying the container of popcorn and precariously balancing a pack of sour strips on top of it, you pressed the doorbell to Chenle’s house, wondering if anyone else had arrived yet.
Your question was quickly answered by the man sitting in the living room, barely visible from the door when Chenle opened it and greeted you with a smile, but perfectly audible as he spelled the name of the movie aloud.
You entered the apartment cautiously, feeling unexpectedly nervous, but your fears were soon eased when you made eye contact with the man sitting on the sofa. He paused his struggle with the remote for a second while trailing his gaze up and down your figure, before breaking out into a smile.
“Hi, I'm Renjun.”
“Hi, Renjun. Do you need help with the TV? Oh, I’m Y/n, by the way.”
“I know,” he replied cryptically. “Chenle’s mentioned you before.”
You looked at Chenle in surprise, and he stared back at you. “What? I had to explain why I suddenly wanted to revive F4.”
Right. So that was all it was. Nothing to overthink about, you reminded yourself. You found a seat on the sofa, holding your hand out for the remote, and Renjun grudgingly handed it to you. “I can do it myself, you know.”
“Oh, I know. I just thought I’d help and speed up the process a little,” you quipped. Chenle let out a high-pitched giggle, squeezing between Renjun and the armrest, teasingly nudging his friend.
“Y/n’s calling you slow,” he said, as if Renjun hadn’t already gotten it. The latter rolled his eyes and rested his chin against his hand in a bored fashion, while you triumphantly displayed the movie that Renjun had been trying to find.
The doorbell rang again, and Renjun got up from the sofa that time, warmly hugging Jisung as he entered.
The tall, lanky man followed Renjun into the house, shutting the door behind him and giving Chenle a wave. Catching sight of you, he stopped in his tracks, tugging on Renjun’s shirt and mouthing, Is that Y/n?
Renjun nodded, almost imperceptibly, and you cracked a smile at their silent exchange. “Yes, Jisung, I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You extended a hand to him, and the introverted man hesitantly took a few steps forward before taking your hand and shaking it.
Jisung set the grapes he had brought down on the table, mouth widening as he caught sight of the packet of candy. “Sour strips? Those are my favourite,” he gushed, reaching one hand out for them. “Can I open them? Who brought these?”
“Yeah, sure, you can open them.”
Jisung turned his big-eyed stare to you, and you found yourself melting in his gaze. “You brought it?”
You nodded, and Jisung raised a palm to cover his mouth. “Ah, really! Thanks.”
You nodded to acknowledge him, and Renjun stood up to turn the lights off, while Chenle turned the television on. Somehow, with all the movement going on, you ended up in the centre of the sofa, wedged between Jisung on your left and Chenle on your right, while Renjun sat on the right-most with his elbow propped up on the arm rest. 
With the cosy atmosphere and the lights turned down low, it was easy for you to forget that you barely knew the other neighbours, leaning forward while stuffing popcorn into your mouth, fully invested in the storyline. You almost forgot that the others weren’t your group of friends, who liked to talk loudly during the movie about the cinematic lighting or the expressions the actors made.
When you made a comment about the delivery of a specific line, Renjun turned to glare at you, but stopped when he saw the way Chenle watched you. A delighted smile on his lips, he watched your expressions like it was more entertaining than the movie, only turning his attention back to the screen once you stopped speaking.
Renjun tapped his finger against his chin, observing you more carefully.
You weren’t making a lot of physical contact with either of the men seated on either side of you, but you were very vocal, unafraid to voice every thought that crossed your mind aloud. You easily matched Chenle’s energy, nodding seriously and fuelling him whenever he started talking about one of the scenes, even when he got to the point that usually Jisung would sigh and smile exasperatedly, reaching out to place a hand over Chenle’s mouth to shut him up.
When this continued for an hour straight, it became too much for Jisung to bear. With a soft cry of frustration, he ran his hands through his hair, scrunching it up in irritation before he stood and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
Renjun rose from the sofa not long after, following Jisung’s lead into the kitchen.
In a hushed whisper, Renjun spoke to Jisung. “Do you see what’s going on out there?”
“It’s like there’s two of them,” Jisung complained. “We should never have said yes to tonight.”
“No,” Renjun replied. “That’s not the important part. Have you seen how Chenle looks at them?”
Jisung cocked his head in confusion. “No?”
“He looks at them like they're glowing, or something like that. He’s infatuated! I’ve never seen him let someone else speak without trying to interrupt them constantly to say his piece before. It’s almost like he agrees with everything they're saying.”
“Which is impossible, because Chenle never agrees with anyone,” Jisung gasped in realisation. “Do you think there’s something wrong with him?”
“What? No! Ugh, you’re so clueless.”
Jisung pouted, and Renjun folded immediately. “Fine, you’re not clueless. I think Chenle likes Y/n, whether he knows it or not.” Renjun stuck his head out, peeking at the two sitting on the sofa, then nodded to reaffirm his point.
“So… what are we going to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Renjun sighed, with a roll of his eyes, “That’s how good dramas play out. Sometimes, you’ve got to let the characters figure out what to do on their own. Has our interference ever helped Chenle get into a relationship?”
Jisung opened his mouth to say yes.
“A long-lasting one,” Renjun hastily amended. Jisung reconsidered each time they had tried to set Chenle up with someone, including the disastrous last time when the person they were trying to set Chenle up with only liked Italian food, and never ate any sort of vegetables.
Jisung slowly shook his head.
“Exactly. Let’s just leave them alone this one time, okay? We’ve got to have a little faith in Chenle.”
Almost as if hearing his name, Chenle looked up from the sofa, eyebrows furrowing as he caught sight of his two friends standing in the kitchen and whispering to each other.
He raised one hand, beckoning his friends back, and they set down their glasses and went back to join the two sitting in the living room.
Noting that you were still absorbed in the movie, Chenle leaned over to Renjun and murmured, “What was that all about?”
Renjun shrugged innocently. “I was just asking Jisung how his last year was.”
“I want to know too, why did you guys have to go over there and act like it’s a secret or something?”
“Once the movie is over, we can talk all about it, ok? I want to hear about Y/n too.”
“Deal.” Chenle raised his pinky, and Renjun reluctantly took it, hooking his pinky with Chenle’s.
“Did you never grow up?”
“Nope,” Chenle said cheerfully.
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A feeling of dread began to overcome Chenle as he saw you stumbling into his family’s pizzeria with nothing but a six pack of beer and your phone, collapsing at a table near the counter. Business was slow at 9am on a Wednesday, especially since they had just opened, and Chenle found himself swearing under his breath before walking over and sitting down opposite you.
You cracked open your first can of beer, sipping slowly at it while staring straight at Chenle, who couldn’t be bothered to hide his disgust.
“Seriously? It’s 9am on a weekday. What’s got you like this?”
“You forget that my sleep schedule is royally fucked, so this is basically 3am to me,” you told him, one finger pointing vaguely at him.
“And that gives you the right to come in here and drink to your heart’s content? I’m not having you sitting around here drunk. It’s bad for business.”
You smiled bitterly. “What business? The place is empty anyway. I'll be sober before lunchtime, don't worry. The alcohol content in the beer is pretty low, and I still have to go to work after this.”
You managed to gulp down an entire can, cracking open a new one, before Chenle sighed and took the rest away from you.
“Seriously, Y/n, what’s wrong?”
“It’s not about my ex,” you said immediately. “I’m well and truly over him.”
Chenle couldn’t help the pang of jealousy he felt, but he squashed it down, gritting his teeth and saying, “Don't care. Didn’t ask. Don't answer my question with a negative.”
“I can't tell you who it’s about,” you said. “It would be mad embarrassing.”
“You must still be somewhat sober then,” Chenle muttered. “Can I leave you?”
“No.” You grabbed his wrist, and he promptly sat back down. “Don't go. I'll tell you.”
“Okay.”
“It’s about me, selfishly.”
“It’s not selfish to have problems,” Chenle said, trying to comfort you, but you waved it off.
“Don't interrupt. I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Chenle shut up pretty quickly when you said that, so you continued, “I had this conversation a while back with Sicheng. Told him I was scared I was just looking for romance, and that a crush I thought I had was just me trying to push myself into a relationship. But now it’s no longer about not being sure of my feelings.”
Chenle didn’t know why, but some part of him wanted to get up and leave the conversation before he had to hear any more about the guy who had your heart. He didn’t want to hear you talking about some guy you liked unless it was him, because it was making him so jealous he could hardly breathe.
“I’m scared to commit,” you confessed. “I know I like him and I'm fairly sure he likes me back, and I don't know if he knows but I'm scared to tell him in case it all becomes too real for me to handle.”
Chenle felt his heart rate grow impossibly slow. There was, in his opinion, the slimmest of chances that the person you were talking about was him.
And while Chenle had always been an opportunist, he was also practical. He wasn’t about to jeopardise his chances by confessing while you were drunk, especially not when he was fairly certain you would forget the whole interaction by the time it was night. That would be simply humiliating for him, and his pride wouldn’t be able to handle it.
So to keep his pride at least somewhat intact, Chenle only said, “I think you should confess.”
“Really?” You looked at him sceptically, reaching for another can of beer. Chenle would have stopped you a second time, but instead of trying to drink it, you started lining three cans of beer up, stacking another two cans on top of it. Although you tried to place the last empty can atop the other two to finish the pyramid, your shaky hand made it hard for you to achieve the feat.
After three failed attempts, Chenle grew impatient, and held your wrist to steady it while you placed the last can on top of the pyramid. With one hand holding your wrist in place, he used the other hands to loosen the death grip you had on the can, moving your hand aside so the can would stay on top of the pyramid.
You slumped over on the table, staring at your masterpiece happily.
“I like–”
Chenle reached over and placed one finger on your lips to shush you, shaking his head. Chenle wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t to hear a confession while he was working, on a Wednesday morning, while you were half-drunk only a few hours before you had to head to work at a studio half an hour away.
His heart wasn’t ready for it, anyway.
He stood up, left to get you some water, and came back while you continued to stare into space dazedly, forcing you to finish a cup of water before repacking the unopened cans of beer and throwing away the empty ones.
“I appreciate your openness,” he said sincerely. “But I’d rather hear it when you’re sober. I'm confiscating this—” he held up the remaining four cans of beer, putting them in the fridge before coming back to you—”and you are going for a walk with me.”
You followed limply as he took you out, walking one round around the block while you leaned on his shoulder for support. Chenle, having established that you were sober enough to take the bus to your studio, was taking you back to the pizzeria when your phone began to ring.
“Hello?”
“Y/n, I thought you were kidnapped or something! Are you okay?”
You nodded, then remembered that Winwin wasn't able to see you. "Yeah. Why?"
"We agreed to meet up, remember? This is the third time you've stood me up in two months."
You slapped your forehead. Of course you remembered! Just not when you were drunk and trying to confess to someone who had just rejected you because you weren't sober. You cast a glance at Chenle, who raised his eyebrows at you.
"Um, yeah. About that. Sorry?"
“I've literally been to this arcade three times to wait for you already, people are going to start thinking I'm a loser whose date never shows up!"
"Don't be dramatic, Sicheng. Didn't you call Jaehyun to accompany you the past few times?"
“Yeah, after you were a no-show for two hours because you overslept!"
You winced apologetically. It really was your fault, but there was nothing you could do about the past few times. "I'm coming now. Can you hold on for a while?"
“You'd better hurry."
 As you hung up, you turned to look at Chenle, but he was busy looking away.
"So, Chenle–"
Chenle shook his head. "You're still not fully sober yet. I don't want to hear anything from those lips. Go and catch Sicheng, I'm sure he's been waiting."
"Can we... talk about this some other time?"
Chenle nodded. "Whenever you're free."
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You weren’t expecting to see Chenle sitting on the step in front of his door, phone in his hands, when you arrived back home that day after a long day out. It had been a tiring day for you, having gone to the arcade and then to the studio afterwards, and all you wanted was to take a hot shower and go to bed.
But there Chenle was, his phone screen brightly lit up, although he switched it off the moment you stepped into view. He flipped the phone in his hands carelessly, looking up to meet your eyes.
You gave him a long, hard look, then headed inside, dropping your things off in your bedroom before taking a shower. Minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, towel around your neck as you dried your hair, leaving the main door open when you took a seat at your steps, directly opposite Chenle.
No one spoke for a few moments, and it was just the two of you existing, surrounded by an atmosphere of comfortable silence. The stars blinked at you as you stared aimlessly out the side, watching the moon glow dimly, shrouded by the cloud cover.
Finally, after a long silence, you stretched out your legs, your breath whistling softly past your teeth, and Chenle looked straight into your eyes and spoke.
“How’s life?”
There was a certain understanding that rippled through the air—you weren’t going to talk about the almost-confession that had happened in the morning. He probably thought you didn’t remember it, and even though you did, you weren’t going to bring it up. There were some things better left unsaid.
Anyway, if he didn’t want to hear it, it was probably because he didn’t want to reject you twice. You set your towel on your lap, hands clasped, leaning forward as you said, “It’s fine.”
“What play are you preparing for now?”
“Aladdin.”
“Ah.” Chenle was silent for a while, and when you didn’t speak, he asked, “Aren’t you going to invite me to come watch it?”
“Johnny hasn’t given us our allocation of tickets yet, so, no. But I can invite you in advance.”
“Wow. You sound like you’re being held at gunpoint to say that.”
You laughed hollowly. “Sorry, I’m not really in the best mood.”
Chenle scoffed. “Oh, yeah? Then when are you in the best mood? At 9am in the morning?”
“Wow.” You took a long, slow breath and buried your head in your hands. “You’re right. Sorry. I won’t show up like that again.”
“It's not about the business, Y/n. I was kidding when I said that. It’s about me being worried about you. Why do you have to drink all by yourself? Is there no better way to resolve your problems?”
“Now you’re making me feel in need of a drink.”
“Seriously? So that’s just your default response to anyone asking you if you’re okay? That’s fucked up, Y/n. You’re halfway there to being an alcoholic at this rate.”
“Actually, you’re wrong.” You could almost hear the pleading tone in your voice, begging him to please believe you, to please stop being mad over an issue that didn’t exist. “I don’t drink. Today was the first time in a few months.”
It was the first time drinking and not thinking about your ex, anyway. Hence your opening line.
“Then? What’s up with this ex of yours, and why was the first thing you said to me that it wasn’t about your ex? It sounded highly suspicious to me.”
There it was. The real root of the problem, the reason Chenle was acting the way he was. Curiosity and misplaced anger, and if you read far into it enough, a hint of jealousy. But of course you didn’t read into it, because that had never been your strong suit. You preferred to take things at face value, then drive yourself insane over the “what if”s, analysing hypothetical scenarios instead of the body language that was perfectly real.
“My ex and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first and only real relationship, and I’ve never let myself get too close to anyone since. I guess I’m scared to commit, scared for everything to be so real and then to lose another person. Again.”
Chenle huffed a sigh, getting to his feet and sitting next to you. You shifted over, squeezing with him on the small step, and his hand landed on your shoulder. A silent tear rolled down your cheek, and Chenle’s other hand wrapped you in a warm, wordless hug.
“I don’t want to let myself get close, Chenle. That’s why I was drinking today; I was torn between my desire to be loved and my fear of not being loved.”
Chenle pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, listening to your muffled words as you mumbled into his jacket, and he loosened his hug to look at you, eyes trailing down your face.
“Give it a chance,” he said, slowly. “Give loving a chance. I promise it’s not as scary as you’re making it out to be.”
“That’s a great line,” you sniffed, wiping away your tears. “Have you ever considered becoming a playwright?”
Chenle shook his head. “No, but maybe after I watch your rendition of ‘Aladdin’, I might change my mind.”
You grinned weakly. “I’ll do my best, then.”
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The screen in the dressing room was black, with Johnny occasionally walking onstage with a microphone strapped to his head. His low heeled boots clicked against the floor, and though the microphone didn’t pick it up, you had heard the sound often enough to imagine it as you watched your director walking across the stage.
Clipboard in one hand and his phone in the other, Johnny’s eyebrows were knotted together as he spoke rapidly into the microphone. Most of it was for the stage crew, so you couldn’t hear what he was saying down in the dressing room, but occasionally you would get startled when he walked back into the wings—presumably going to call the actors back onstage—only to emerge again a few seconds later.
Finally, it was almost time for the show to begin, and you went to prepare in the wings.
”Oh God.”
You heard Winwin’s strangled whisper even with the thunderous applause resounding in the echoey chambers of the theatre, watching the lights slowly dim through the gap between the curtains. You turned to face him, momentarily pulled away from scanning the audience, only to see his face ashen and pale, mouth agape.
”What?”
“She’s there,” he breathed, more like a sigh than actual words.
”Who?”
”Ningning. My junior from university. The one that brought me flowers on graduation day?”
Ah, that one. You clearly remembered her, even though you had only met her once. That specific incident had been a core memory of yours, back when your group had gone to attend Winwin’s graduation ceremony. As a bunch of theatre kids, you were the only ones dressed in brightly coloured jeans and turtlenecks, among the other students in graduation gowns and the iconic black hats.
Jaehyun ruffled Winwin’s hair, and he ducked shyly, hands reaching up to smoothen out his curls. The gel in his hair made this a difficult feat, so he eventually gave up, as Jaehyun laughed at him delightedly.
The commotion only got louder when one of Winwin’s batchmates called for a photo, and the graduates hurried to find a place on the steps, Winwin making his way to the back naturally. Several cameras flashed, and someone yelled for them to stay still while he swapped out his phone for another one, and the chorus of “cheese” sounded once more.
”Shī gē!” A Chinese girl with a bright smile and her hair in a high ponytail came running up to Winwin as he made his way back to you, a bouquet of yellow carnations in hand. “Happy graduation!”
Winwin’s face flushed red at the sound of someone calling him “senior”, and laughter burst out at the uncommon sight of someone chasing after Winwin. Although you would admit that your best friend was rather attractive, his features also made him too intimidating for anyone to approach. In your years of friendship, only one person had made a move on Winwin, and they had been politely rejected—if you could call being dismissed with a confused tilt of Winwin’s head “polite”.
Ducking his head and covering his eyes with his too-long fringe, Winwin handed his phone to you, mumbling something about you taking a photo of them.
A wide grin spread across your face. “Of course!” You cheekily took a picture of them, watching the way Winwin immediately eased up, putting one hand around the girl’s shoulder, holding the bouquet in his other hand. The girl threw up a peace sign and you snapped the shot, returning the phone to Winwin.
“I hope to see you around!” The girl told him, waving before running off, and you nudged Winwin while raising your eyebrows teasingly.
“Senior, huh?”
Winwin buried his face in his palms. “Please don’t call me that!”
“Who is she, anyway?”
“One of my juniors. She came up to me after our performance, said she admired me a lot, and since then she’s been kind of vocal about her crush on me.”
“Ah.” You nodded in understanding. “She seems like a nice girl.”
Winwin shrugged. “I guess. She’s not my type.”
“I thought she wasn’t your type?” you asked, recalling the conversation the two of you had had. Winwin rubbed the back of his neck nervously in response.
“I thought so too.”
You let out a snort, just as the distant clapping in the audience died off and Suzy ran onstage. “Well, you’d best put on a show for her then.”
The curtains slowly parted, and Suzy began reciting her lines, while Winwin stared straight at the spot where Ningning presumably was. “You too,” he replied. “Chenle’s there too.”
It definitely wasn’t nerve-wracking to hear that.
You were definitely cool and collected when your turn to go onstage came, and you did a dramatic cartwheel into the scene, just like you had practised many times before. The blocking that had been drilled into you by Johnny's constant tireless corrections and hours of effort had ingrained itself into your muscles kept you from crashing into anyone, dancing around the “guards” onstage in an intricate choreography that had been practised ceaselessly.
For once, you were grateful for having gotten a role where you didn’t have to speak, schooling your face into the exaggerated expressions you had spent hours practising in the mirror. Your body was your medium, conveying a message without words, moving all over the stage, managing to interrupt dialogues comically without having to deliver a punchline.
You no longer cared about how foolish the costume looked, concerned only with how the play worked as a whole, determined to give your best. Even if that meant acting as a monkey, ignoring the audience’s laughter. It was a testament to how well you were playing the role, you reminded yourself. Their laughter wasn't an indication of how bad you were. Rather, it was the exact opposite.
The two hours passed in a flash, with intermission as your sole break in between. In the dressing room, you had time to catch your breath, drinking water and going into the green room for a bite of the sausage buns that had been prepared beforehand.
Before you knew it, thunderous applause was sounding, your sweaty hands holding tightly onto your friends as you took your final bow. A wide smile broke across your face, triumphant and ecstatic, filled with pure, unadulterated pride.
You had completed it, the play that you had been working so hard for for months.
It was finally over.
The dressing rooms were a mess, with people poking their heads in everywhere. Johnny walked through the corridor in his suit, a proud smile dancing across his lips as he hugged people and shook their hands, congratulating all of you on a wonderful show.
Hasty hands plunged through door cracks, holding costumes and water bottles and other paraphernalia. Winwin poked his head into your dressing room, duffel bag slung on his shoulder, casting a glance at your almost-empty room. Most of the actors were in a hurry to meet their parents, but your and Winwin’s parents weren’t watching the show, so you took your time to pack everything back in your bag.
“C’mon, Y/n, hurry up!”
“What for? Everyone else is having a meal with their parents, but I’m not.”
Winwin clenched his teeth and looked over his shoulder. “Chenle, remember?” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Oh. Right. That singular name had you zipping up your own backpack, grabbing your phone off the counter, and staring at your stage makeup in the mirror.
“I look like a clown,” you complained, as Winwin dragged you outside and up the stairs.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m fairly certain he doesn’t care.” Winwin wasn’t paying attention to you, though, too busy scanning the crowd to take a good look at you.
“There!” You followed Winwin’s finger to where Chenle stood, holding a bouquet in his right hand, his other hand tucked into his pocket as he listened to Jisung. He was dressed in a sweater and black slacks, a stark contrast to the casual clothing you were used to seeing him in, and you felt your chest tighten.
He looked up just as you appeared in front of him, eyes sparkling, one hand tightly clutching your bag so it wouldn’t fall off your shoulder. He took the sight of you in, your heart pounding when he didn’t speak, until he finally said, “You looked better as Abu.”
What? You let out the breath you were holding, about to curse him out, when he laughed, that high-pitched giggle that you had grown accustomed to hearing.
“You should see the look on your face! Here, this is for you.” He pressed the bouquet into your hands, and you received it thankfully, admiring its beauty.
Next to you, you were vaguely aware of Winwin accepting Ningning’s hug, and she handed him a rose that he held gently in his hand, turning to you. With his eyebrows raised high, he looked pointedly at Chenle, silently asking if you were going out to dinner with him.
“Are you hungry? Do you want to get ramen?” You looked down at your white shirt, cringing inwardly, but nodded anyway.
“Sounds good.”
Renjun glanced knowingly at Jisung, teasingly saying, “Good job on today, Y/n. You did well.”
You nodded absently, maintaining eye contact with Chenle, and Jisung nudged Renjun subtly. “What do you say we dip after tonight? Maybe give them some space?”
Renjun nodded in relief. “And here I was scared you’d never catch on.”
The four of you walked towards Renjun’s car, and as you slid into the backseat, you slipped your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor. Once your seatbelt was fastened, you began toying with the flower petals, and Chenle pointed his thumb at it. “Renjun chose those, and it’s a gift from all of us. A token of congratulations.”
“Oh.”
You were sure the disappointment was evident through your voice, because Chenle’s lip curled up into something resembling a smirk.
He leaned over, hand pressed into the middle seat separating you, close enough for you to smell the gel he had used in his hair and the cologne he had sprayed. 
“Why do you sound disappointed? Could it be that you were expecting a gift from me?”
Your brain short-circuited.
You moved away from him, squishing yourself against the window, croaking out a tentative “no”, only causing his smirk to deepen as he backed away, glancing at his phone. “That’s too bad, then,” he remarked, offhandedly adding, “Because I did get you a gift.”
Renjun cleared his throat, making eye contact with you through the mirror before saying, “Seriously, Lele, why are you like this? Stop teasing Y/n.”
“Their reactions are just too entertaining,” Chenle replied.
It was true. Your ears were as red as a tomato, and your cheeks were hot. You averted your eyes, studiously staring out the window until Jisung turned around in the passenger seat and beckoned you to come closer.
“He acts very confident, but he’s nervous too,” Jisung whispered.
“I heard that. I'm not nervous,” Chenle called.
“Yeah, right. I saw you psyching yourself up before the performance earlier. Who’re you trying to fool?” Jisung retaliated, immediately turning on Chenle.
The latter smiled sheepishly, turning away from you and facing the window.
“...and now he’s sulking,” Jisung announced, to which Chenle flipped him off, causing Renjun to laugh, lightening the atmosphere.
“Seriously, though. Don't be fooled by him,” Jisung stage-whispered to you. You shot him a knowing grin and nodded.
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Renjun pulled into the parking lot, and you got out of the car, trailing after them.
That was, until you came to a fancy restaurant. Chenle was ahead of everyone else, but you tugged on his sleeve, causing him to stop in his tracks.
“Chenle,” you whispered. “I’m not dressed for this.” You gestured at yourself, forcing him to take a good look at what you were wearing, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What’s wrong? I don't get it, you look fine.”
“I’m dressed in a T-shirt and pants! This is the kind of place you wear a blazer to! Or at the very least, a collared, long-sleeved shirt!” you whisper-yelled.
“Okay, firstly, calm down. Look at what I'm wearing. Look at what Renjun and Jisung are wearing. None of us are dressed formally, alright? Secondly, you look perfectly fine dressed the way that you are. Thirdly, I reserved a room. With a door.” He paused to let it sink in. “So no one is going to look inside and judge you for what you’re wearing, okay?”
“I just feel like you should have told me,” you muttered.
“Y/n, darling, do you even hear yourself? How could I have told you? It’s a surprise! Telling you would ruin the whole point of a surprise.”
You would have retorted, but the pet name that he had called you made you too flustered to respond. You pressed your lips together and looked down to hide the growing blush on your cheeks as you nodded. “M’kay.”
“Okay,” Chenle repeated, opening his hand for you to take. When you didn’t notice, he slipped his hand into yours, tugging you towards the counter. “I have a reservation for four under Mr Zhong.”
“Right this way, sir.” A waiter held several menus in his hand as he directed you to follow him, weaving through the restaurant.
“Keep your head up,” Chenle murmured softly. “It’ll take their attention away from your clothes.”
You inwardly said a prayer that the colour of your cheeks had gone back to normal, lifting your chin and doing your best to mimic Chenle’s confident strides and the relaxed gait of his walk. His grip on your hand tightened momentarily, and just as quickly as he had squeezed your hand, he let it go, smiling at you reassuringly.
“Here’s your room, sir.”
The four of you headed into the room, removing your shoes before sitting cross-legged on the rattan mat.
Chenle handed out the menus, and you took your time to look through it, trying not to think too hard about the price of the food as you looked through it nervously. When no one spoke, you gently tapped Jisung on the shoulder.
”Jisung?” He looked up, and you asked, “Um, what should I get?”
“Why’re you asking me?” he asked with a disbelieving huff. “Ask Chenle.”
“Ask me what?”
“… Nevermind.”
Chenle looked up from the menu, narrowing his eyes. Renjun stood, jerking his head to the side, and Jisung subtly excused himself. You looked at them, confused, but Chenle’s gaze remained trained on you.
”Y/n, are you okay?”
You opened your mouth, about to speak, then closed it again. You rarely found yourself at a loss for words, but at the moment you had no way to express yourself. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful for the effort Chenle was putting in, but you simply weren’t used to it.
Chenle’s expression softened. “Shall we go back home?“
You hesitated, licking your lips anxiously. Then, you nodded.
”Okay. Let’s go, darling.”
The door handle jiggled as you stood up, and Renjun and Jisung stood awkwardly in the door frame, and Chenle waved them over. “We’re going, enjoy your dinner.”
When they said nothing, he sighed. “Yes, I’ll pay for it.”
Renjun grinned. “Thanks, Lele!”
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You only realised that your bag with all your costumes were still in Renjun’s car when you passed the carpark and Chenle didn’t slow down, but the way he slipped his hand into yours made it hard to focus on anything else. You decided that would be a problem for another time.
The restaurant turned out to be near the apartment building, so you and Chenle took a nice, long stroll through the neighbourhood, his gaze fixed on you while you looked anywhere but at his face: the asphalt, the stars, the trees casting creepy shadows on the pavement.
You paid attention to the way the soles of your shoes sank under you with each step, listening closely to the sound of Chenle’s steady breathing and the feel of his fingers between yours, thumb rubbing circles against the back of your hand.
“Y/n.” When he said your name, everything else went silent—from the crickets chirping to the wind rustling through leafy trees, the world fell quiet until all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears and the thumping of your heart.
“Chén lè.” The silence was excruciating, his name falling from your lips like a promise, a question, an offer all at once. Spelled out in the two careful syllables, pronounced perfectly in the same tones he’d introduced himself in.
He tugged on your hand, pulling you into his embrace, burying your head against his shoulder. There you stayed, tilting your head to the side so you could admire the view of him, the moon casting shadows on his side profile.
“I like you.”
Chenle smiled, and you could feel the way his lips curved up when his jaw moved against your head. “I know.”
“Since when?”
“Since you called me ‘cute’ the first time we met.”
“No. Way.” You pulled away, scouring his eyes for answers. “You’re kidding.”
He smirked. “I’m not.”
“You heard that?”
He shrugged. “You weren’t exactly quiet.”
Oh, hell. You buried your face as deep into his jacket as it would go, the fluffy material muffling your embarrassed mumbling. Chenle patted your hair, still smiling.
”Don’t worry.” When you didn’t move, he continued, “I like you too.”
“Since when?”
“Since the time you woke me up in the middle of the night, stumbling into your apartment, crashing against the gate and falling to your knees. You broke your own plant that time, the one that you keep outside the apartment, did you know that?”
“The one you gave me?” you asked, horrified.
”No, the other one. The one you bought like a month after. Anyway, I cleaned up the broken pot and the spilt soil by the light of my phone torchlight while you watched me, your sleep-deprived self blinking away sleep. That’s when I knew.”
Chenle leaned away from you, tilting your chin upwards, whispering, “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, moving in to press his lips against yours, wrists behind his neck. His hands found their way to your waist, holding you tightly as his lips moved against yours, soft and tentative and warm.
You sighed when he pulled away, causing him to quirk an eyebrow and ask, “That bad?”
“No,” you murmured, pressing kisses along his jaw. “That good.”
You would have continued kissing him, but he only grinned cheekily at you, moving your wrists away and interlacing his fingers with yours.
Chenle held onto your hand the entire way back, only letting go when you needed to dig into your pocket for your keys. The plant that he had replaced for you still sat on your doorstep next to your shoes, and it held a whole new meaning for you when you left your shoes on the rack and headed inside.
Chenle immediately noted the succulent resting on your window sill, but he said nothing until you stopped short in the middle of the living room.
”Ro…ses?”
The roses had been left in a vase on your dining table with a little bit of help from Winwin, who had asked you for your keys a couple of days before. You tenderly touched the velvet petals, struck speechless by the thoughtful gesture.
Chenle opened a small box, lifting your wrist up so he could fasten a bracelet around your wrist.
”Do you know what shǒu liàn means?” You shook your head. “It means bracelet in Mandarin. But the words for protecting your love have the same pronunciation. Shǒu liàn. Your name is engraved on the band, and there’s space for more charms,” he pointed out.
”There’s a pizza slice,” you commented. He nodded proudly. “And a monkey.” He nodded again, his proud smile growing wider.
“Do you like it?”
You swore you could hear him holding his breath as he waited for your answer.
”Not as much as I like you.”
”Oh, I know.”
And there was nothing else for you to do but to wipe that confident smile off of his face with a peck to his lips that left him blushing.
- fin -
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loserlvrss · 4 months ago
Text
꒰ 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ꒱ 박성호
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summary : you and your husband were throwing a bbq party, and sungho has somehow convinced you he was going to grill
genre : fluff, husband!sungho x afab!reader, girldad!sungho, non-idol!au, bbqdad!au tws : kisses, language, bad bbq puns, father sungho author notes : this is zanna's fault for indulging my delusions word count : 1.3k
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“hey babygrill.” 
you turned, “sungho—”
“is it hot grill summer?” he asked, a wood-handled, metal spatula clutched between his fingers. “because you’re smoking hot.” you cringed, holding back a laugh as he leaned sideways, fingers turning the dial on the front of the grill. the vein in his neck strained with the angle, making it prominent against the midday sunlight. the defined muscles of his arms flexed, and you stared like you’d never seen him before—even though you’d been married to him for two years now, dating him for three before that. you reached out, tracing the lines, feeling the heat from the grill and sun combine against his untainted-tan skin. 
“i’m going to get our daughter ready,” he ignored your touch, knowing it wasn’t anything new. he liked it though, knowing you weren’t like that before him. “myself, too.”
“sure, babe.” he replied, hovering his palm a few inches over the metal rack he had cleaned just a couple minutes ago. “go ahead. i’ve got this all under control.”
who was he really trying to convince? you thought. your husband wasn’t a master chef by any means, but when you craved late-night snacks, he was definitely the man for the job.
“are you sure,” you quizzed. “maybe don’t start until i get back?”
“my love,” he met your eyes, head still slightly hung as he adjusted the heat. his longer hair fell to the side effortlessly, cascading like a waterfall. “i’ll be fine.”
“oh no,” you laughed. “i’m worried about my house, sungho.” 
he faked being offended. “what the hell? i’m a great chef!”
“you’re great at a lot of things, baby, there’s no doubt about it, but cooking just isn’t one of them.” his fake started to become genuine, arms crossing over his broad chest. you tried hard not to stare again. “right now!” you added, “practice makes perfect! but, just wait for me to supervise. i would like for there to be a backyard to have this party in…” you kissed his shoulder. “please?” 
ultimately, you always won him over. “fine, i’ll cut up stuff for the sides instead.” you weren't sure about that either, however it’s something you’ve made him do often for you. so, it should go fine, shouldn’t it? “but, hurry, i’d like to get these burgers sizzling. you could say, the steaks are high, right now, y/n. want them to be grate for our family and friends.” 
you mentally facepalmed. when did you marry such a cheesy guy? you guess it's for the best that he became a dad after all, with these (terrible) jokes of his. 
you left him to attend to the vegetables for the burgers, finding your daughter in front of a fan on the couch, basking in the air that blew directly in her face. bluey was playing on the TV, the accents rubbing off on her slightly. 
she lit up, “mommy!”
“hi, baby.” you plopped down next to her, and she instantly nozzled against your side. “do you wanna bet on daddy burning something?” 
she eyed you, then nodded, “seven fruit snacks.” you hummed, seemingly thinking it over. but before you had the chance to agree, she added, “and 45 minutes past bedtime.”
you cocked your head, slightly in disbelief, but mostly in amusement. 
“deal.” you held your hand for her to take, which she did (hand significantly smaller than yours) closing the bargain. “i have faith in my husband.” 
you lied, but regardless, you honestly wanted your miniature version to win.
you silently watched a couple more minutes with her, glancing at the clock on the wall. you threaded your hand through her hair, thinking about the styles you could put it into today; ultimately knowing what your kid would prefer. 
“first one ready gets dessert before dinner!”
she jumped off the couch, small legs carrying down the hall and presumably to the bathroom. you followed after a moment, hearing the water start to run.
once finished, you joined sungho outside again, prepared for guests to start showing up. he had to do a double take when you walked out, and if this was a cartoon, you feared his eyes would’ve been popping out of his head. 
“woah,” he snaked his hands around your waist, after abandoning the grill carelessly, planting a couple kisses against your lips and surrounding skin. “damn, are you a5 wagyu?” he murmured, eyes roaming over your figure, “‘cause you look expensive.”  
you caught the look your (almost) three year old daughter gave him; the same one she gave tomatoes. you stifled a laugh against his lips.  
“ew, daddy!” she shrieked at your kiss, wiggling in your arms to push him back. “that’s my mommy!” she argued, throwing her small limbs around your neck and puckering her lips against your cheek. 
“i’m sorry, baby.” he put his palm to your daughter's head gently, kissing her temple. “I’m just letting your mom follow my apron’s instructions.” he revealed said tightly-tied clothing: kiss the chef adorned with fake abs (not that he needed them) printed on it. once again, you wondered when you married such an unserious guy. 
she began to hysterically laugh, and you guffawed, sungho taking her from you gladly. she hugged around his neck, “damn girly, you got a grip.” she squeezed tighter, kissing his cheek too. “i almost passed out!” that prompted a competition between the two, giggles sounding throughout the backyard as your daughter hugged tighter and tighter. 
you were only interrupted when his parents voices cut through the noise, “where’s my pretty princess of a granddaughter?” suddenly said girl was pushing from your husband, trying her hardest to be put down; her grandparents were arguably her second-favorite people. they took care of her during your date-nights and any other time sungho would ask. you’d never had a good relationship with your parents, but you were glad that they took you in for your daughter and husband's sake. 
they met your side, gaining a hug from you. 
“daddy! put me down!” she whined, causing you to giggle at the sight, “please!” 
he shook his head, attacking her with more hugs and kisses. 
it was refreshing to see such a man who wasn’t afraid to show his love and adoration for someone–especially his daughter. 
finally she broke free, running the short distance to sungho’s dad and jumping into his arms. she resumed the game with him, arms wrapping around his neck. 
“i made you something last night!” her attempt to get put down was easier than before, and once she hit the ground she was off, ushering her grandma and grandpa to follow into the house. “c’mon, it’s for your fridge!” 
sungho met your side once again, arm around your midsection, your head laid on his shoulder. you were glad you started a family with him of all people, even though when you were younger you weren't sure you would ever have wanted kids; but everything just felt so safe and secure with him. every doubt and uncertainty was put to rest when he was around. 
“she converted me into a girl-dad.” 
you laughed, “babe, you’ve always been a girl dad. do you remember when we found out, no one cried harder than you did.” 
he waved you off with a pfft sound, “she’s just so adorable, you can’t blame me.” he broke away, arms up innocently, standing back. “she’s a miniature version of you.” 
you spun to face him, “no, she’s exactly like you, baby. terrible humor, no respect for bedtime, fluffy-ass hair.” 
a hum resonated. he was staring again, eyes flicking over you casually. “should we have another, you think? another girl, but i’d love a miniature version of me, too.” your eyebrows rose in amusement, until your attention found itself locked behind him on the copious amount of smoke. 
“it’s burning.” 
“yeah, i know.” he said in a duh-tone, words adorned with his eyes rolling, “you’re hotter than the grill.”
“no, babe.” you grabbed his bare shoulders, spinning him around. “there’s actually a fire right now.” 
“oh my god!” you didn’t need to be facing him to see his eyes go wide, shoulders tensing under your grip. you giggled, sungho moving quickly to grab the tongs from the side table and move the food from the flame that had developed. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, slightly frantic. 
“i guess you could say… missteaks were made.”
he turned slowly, a shit-eating grin across his face, “i knew you liked them.”
of course you did. it was sungho. 
suddenly a voice called out, “mommy, you owe me my fruit snacks!”
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reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!
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hursheys · 2 months ago
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HOMEY-MOON.
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꒰♡꒱﹑ IN WHICH all your husband wants is to build a home with you during your honeymoon.
ıllı . ##2022 ( DRABBLE ) && yudai x fem. reader. beware. established relationship, marriage, newlyweds, honeymooners shit, fluff, kissing, suggestive at the end. wc. 0.4k!
&𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 ◞♡   ⃗. fill THIS form out to be added.
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 ◞♡   ⃗. @kstrucknet @slytherinshua @welcometomyoasis
AUTHORS NOTE ♡⃕. i'm sick. where can i build this man for myself? thank you zanna for the brainrot <3. if you enjoyed please like and reblog!
© 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗒𝗌 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱.
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“That box goes there, these go in the kitchen, and this one comes to our bedroom,” you instruct, carefully balancing a box of books in your arms as you give final directions to the movers and your husband.
From the moment you and Yudai got engaged, you both knew you wanted to start your life together in a home you could call your own. It was a joint decision to prioritize buying a house over a honeymoon, and now, just days after your wedding, you’re both standing in your new home, ready to turn it into a place of love and comfort.
As the movers leave, you and Yudai immediately spring into action. You head to the kitchen, eager to make it the heart of your home, while Yudai starts assembling furniture, determined to turn your house into a cozy haven. It’s a beautiful display of teamwork, each of you working towards the same goal in your own way.
“Mr. Koga, would you like some water?” you call out cheerfully, wiping sweat from your brow as you decide to take some respite. You hear Yudai hum in agreement from across the room, his focus unwavering.
When you finally reach him, glasses of water in hand, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of him. He is bent over, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, deeply engrossed in the assembly manual. The soft sound of wooden pieces being connected and the occasional clink of tools lend a comforting rhythm to the atmosphere. You admire his determination, knowing how hard he works to transform your house into a cosy home.
Unbeknownst to you, you are captivated by the sight of your husband, who is all too aware of your lingering gaze. He flexes his muscles with a smirk as he works, well aware of how much you appreciate it, given your endless compliments about his physique.
At the sight of his infuriating smirk, you huff and roll your eyes as you hand him his drink. He laughs, standing up and pulling you into his embrace.
“What is it, Mrs. Koga?” he asks, eyeing the playful smile on your lips, a similar one stretching across his face.
“Not much, Husband,” you reply playfully. “It’s just that you don’t have to work to win me over anymore; I literally married you.”
He hums while tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “You might be right, but I will never stop trying to win you over. Now—” You squeal as he effortlessly sweeps you off your feet and carries you bridal style toward the inviting atmosphere in your bedroom.
“Let me try to win you over once more, wife.” 
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chesometer · 1 year ago
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Been replaying Dragonspyre with my friend and one thing that I’ve always found fascinating about it is the way that it handles the ghosts.
All throughout the world, you see that every human has been killed. Dragonspyre is a ruined world, and the only people still around are the servants of the dragon titan. In place of everyone who’s been killed, a ghost stands where they once stood.
What I love about the ghosts is their various levels of comprehension of the state that they’re in. Some of the ghosts acknowledge what happened, that the dragon titan completely razed their world. However, many don’t. In fact, there’s a decent number of Dragonspyre ghosts who flat-out don’t even realize they’re dead. One that struck a cord with me in particular said something to the effect of “I’m no longer tangible”, seemingly understanding his state as “still alive but not able to touch things for some mysterious reason”. Many of the ghosts make excuses for the fact that they can’t do what they once did when they were alive. This is either because they don’t realize they are dead, or my interpretation, that they don’t want to acknowledge that their lives were cut short.
I also love that so many of the ghosts are very much stuck in their ways from when they were alive. It’s basically left up to interpretation whether that’s a symptom of them being a ghost, or if that militant adherence to order and rules is a symptom of growing up in Dragonspyre’s culture that’s impossible to shake. There’s an NPC, Belia Windgazer, who is still running paperwork for the vaults, even though that paperwork is coming from and going to no one, and is not useful for a single person. It’s running through the motions of the busywork that you did when you were alive, and that’s kind of nightmarish. Even in death, they don’t get any rest.
Another NPC, Zanna Fireflower, has made it her main priority to secure a tower that has visibly been toppled a long time ago, leaving only a single floor. She sees this as a necessary military accomplishment. However, in the present day, this is basically entirely meaningless from both an objective and political viewpoint. Gaining control of this tower does nothing for nobody, the tower doesn’t even stand there anymore. Is this fixation simply something that is static beyond the grave, or is it such a point of pride for her that she can’t let go of such a pointless task all these years later?
Playing through Pirate101 and getting to the point where you meet the four ghosts of Ratbeard’s crew adds a new layer to this situation as well. In that game, those ghosts cannot move on from the mortal realm and go to the next life because they still have unsettled business in this world. Does that imply that with such a massive tragedy on Dragonspyre, the dragon titan not only killed countless people, but doomed them to never rest in peace and move to the next world due to the fact that all of their lives had been cut tragically short, leaving every one of them with unfinished business? Absolutely horrifying stuff
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blue-jisungs · 2 years ago
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infinity
summary. by a rather unpleasant string of events you find out who… or what your boyfriend really is
warnings. swearing, blood, violence (?) but nothing extreme, (a pinch of angst if u will)
au. vampire!wonwoo
a/n. first of all i’d like to thank zanna ( @slytherinshua ) , ola ( @l3visbby ) and kermit (@humongousbiscuitvoidtree ) for helping me out with certain aspects of this work!! tbh without you i wouldn’t write it <\3 so thank you sm, love you and check their blogs if you haven’t already >:T
second of all, i don’t want to spoil everything but as you can see from the au its a vampire thingy teehee but! i based the creations of vampires on the witcher (mostly the books/part 3 of the game (esp blood and wine))! i’m such a sucker for the witcher (without the tv series lol) so you know i had to teehee!! it’s pretty much briefly explained later in the work but if someone is interested i definitely recommend diving into the witcher or even checking it out on wiki!
word count. 4.7k 😟 the longest work of mine on tumblr 😟😟😟
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wonwoo loves you. he’s sure that he never loved anyone like this before. if it was possible, he’d spend his entire life; infinity with you. if only.
you feel the same way, obviously. you can always feel the presence of his love, even if he himself may not be around. you love him so much that you sometimes feel as if your heart was about to jump out of your chest. he must feel it too because his pupils grow wider a bit (and he thinks you don’t see it). even his friends, including mingyu who knew him for like forever, told you he’s head over heels for you which made you melt on the spot.
you’ve been together for 6 years now and life with him is anything and more than you could have ever wanted. wonwoo is patient, funny and above all, caring. sometimes it makes you wonder what you did in your past life to deserve this; him.
“i’m home!” you call out, putting the groceries on the countertop. there was not only his shoes next to the doorstep but also someone else’s… if you were to take a guess, you’d bet it was mingyu.
you let out a deep sigh, reaching for a iced tea you bought for yourself.
your classes today were… harsh, to say at least. all you needed today was wonwoo’s arms around you. and a good nap.
overall your days were horrible lately. the ridiculous amount of uni work, your part time job and social life in general. there’s a new guy at your job and you can’t figure out what’s his problem with you. he’s always staring, throwing mean comments at you… the other day he almost got you fired.
you still haven’t talked about this with wonwoo. and you didn’t really want to because lately he seemed busy with something else. but if his - junwoo’s - behaviour is going to go on, you’ll reach out.
you closed your eyes, trying to forget it. you’re home now, it’s all good. just take a shower and go to bed.
you finished your ice tea and grabbed two that were left in your shopping bag. you passed by wonwoo’s office and knocked at the door gently. and before you could even move your hand away, your boyfriend called you in.
as you opened the door, as predicted, saw mingyu. he smiled at you. they were sitting at the desk, looking over at some papers.
“hi guys. hi baby” you hummed, trying to keep a positive tone. you walked up to wonwoo, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
you put down the two bottles and smiled at them.
“i’ll go to sleep, i’m exhausted” you announced quietly and wonwoo nodded, sending you a warm smile.
“of course… i didn’t even realise it got so late. good night, dear” he hummed. you walked away, sending them a small wave and closed the door behind you. with a deep sigh you started mentally questioning if you have enough strength to do your skin care.
nowadays there is something important going on since wonwoo isn’t home a lot. he’s asleep when you wake up in the morning to attend your classes, sometimes you manage to share a quick cup of coffee. and when you’re back home from work late evening, he’s absent. you always text him once you’re home and when you check the other day, the read hour says something around 1am. it’s exhausting, it really is.
“nonu…” you mumbled quietly, entering your living room at some lazy sunday. weekends were the only days you could catch up, even a bit. he turned his head immediately, eyes landing on you.
“is something wrong?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“well… no. actually, yeah” you huffed and sat down next to him on the couch. he closed his book and a playful smile spread on your lips when you see it’s twilight, again.
“what’s wrong, darling?” wonwoo asked, shifting his full attention to you. he can sense you’re nervous so he grabs your hand. it feels like eternity since he did that, let alone kiss you properly or–
“i miss you” you pouted, avoiding eye contact.
“but i’m here” wonwoo teases you but let’s go when you don’t even snicker “‘m sorry. i know, work has been stressful lately. seungcheol got into some trouble and you know how it is…”
“i really don’t. we don’t even talk that much anymore. i know that it’s your work but it’s just….” you babbled, finally gaining courage to look up at him. your heart clenched at the sight of his sad frown “but i know how you can make it up for me…”
“oh?” the corner of wonwoo’s mouth shifts up, his smirk making you dizzy. asshole. with a tilt of his head, his gaze pierces you but at the same time, it’s soft. and loving. “tell me then”
“well, first of all a kiss. seco–“ you were interrupted by his plush lips on yours. as you melted into the kiss, wonwoo effortlessly grabbed your hips and put you on his lap. with a small bite of your bottom lip, he made you gasp. you felt him smile playfully into the kiss before he continued to knock the air out of your lungs. your hands travelled to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair.
when you finally pulled away, cheeks glowing red, wonwoo put a stray strand of your hair back behind your ear.
“done. and the second part?” he breathed out, admiring your flustered face.
“a date” you giggled, hands shifting to cup his face.
“a date?” he repeated, a small crease forming between his brows.
“we can even go and dig garbage out, i don’t care. just take me on a date, mr jeon” you squished his cheeks, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.
“okay, ms l/n, next friday then. we’re going to dig through garbage” wonwoo sent you a boyish smile and you smacked his arm. finally, your place was filled with your laughters again.
you were waiting impatiently, the minutes on the clock passing painfully slow. wonwoo was supposed to pick you up at 6pm and then you were supposed to go… somewhere. he said it’s a surprise, so you weren’t fully sure what was is.
you decided to wear a cute dress and a cardigan that he gifted you on your birthday. it was your favourite piece of clothing and it went perfectly with the dress.
you played a goofy game that was on your phone, trying to kill some time.
you figured it will be the perfect opportunity to tell wonwoo about junwoo, your co-worker. days passed and his behaviour got even worse. you were uncomfortable around him, your job draining you mentally. and you hated that because to be frank, you loved your job. you loved making baked goods, displaying them and serving customers. and now your, somehow, safe place is making you sick even when you’re just thinking about it.
suddenly your phone dinged.
nonu<3: darling i’m so sorry
nonu<3: i won’t be able to make it
nonu<3: let’s postpone it to next friday, okay?
nonu<3: seungcheol said he’ll pay
your heart dropped. putting down your phone gently you felt tears gathering at your water line.
nonu<3: love you
“love you too” you mumbled and went straight to bed, not bothering to take your makeup off.
when wonwoo came back around 3am, he wasn’t surprised to see you’re fast asleep. there was a little hope in him that you’d wait; that’d you won’t be mad. but who was he gonna fool? when he noticed you fell asleep without changing into your pyjamas, wiping off your makeup and clutching his pillow tight to your chest his heart stung painfully. then he went to grab makeup wipes to remove your mascara stains.
you haven’t talked to wonwoo since then. a week passed by, making you wonder if he’s truly going to take you on a date.
you were just ending your shift, unfortunately with junwoo. you were wiping the tables while he was counting up today’s profit.
“so, that boyfriend of yours…”
the question felt like a bomb, echoing in the empty room. you looked up at junwoo annoyed, his gaze piercing your soul.
“he’s very lovely” you scoffed, looking outside the window. it was already dark outside, not to mention that you still have to go through the park to arrive at your bus stop. normally wonwoo would pick you up…
“is he?”
you ignored the question, moving to the last table. last table and you’re gone. you just need to grab your bag. to do that you have to… shit. you have to pass him by. maybe you don’t need your stuff? you could leave it and– what are you thinking, your id and everything is in it.
“wonwoo is hiding something from you, isn’t he?” junwoo’s voice send shivers down your spine and when you gulped, you could hear his scoff. wait.
“how do you know his name?” you asked, hands trembling.
“i’m friend of a friend you see. but wonwoo once betrayed me…”
your grip on the cloth you were holding tightened, heart speeding up. why this feels like a scene from a crime show…?
“would you like to know something about your lovely boyfriend?” junwoo asked, done with his task.
“uh sure, hit me. we don’t have secrets though!” you laughed nervously and looked at the table. squeaky clean.
you heard footsteps.
looking up you noticed junwoo holding your bag with a playful smile.
“he’s a vampire”
you looked at him in disbelief. then you let out a laugh, shaking your head.
“that’s funny. you’re a funny guy junwoo, wow! a vampire, huh? good one, really–“ your voice died out in your throat when he stepped closer, his hand reaching out.
you snatched your bag from it, dropping the cloth on the floor.
“he’s a vampire. like me” junwoo hummed. normally you’d throw a joke about edward cullen but your coworker canines suddenly made sense.
“oh. cool. i’ll get going though, bye!” you yelled out panicked and rushed to the door. with a slam you ran out of the café, the fresh evening air making you realise how much you were suffering there.
you’re safe. just straight to the park and then bus stop and then home and then… your - apparently vampire - boyfriend.
you took out your phone with shaky and sweaty hands, the speed of your walk faster than ever before in your life.
you started bombarding him with texts - not even caring about the typos - and called him a couple of times but he wasn’t responding.
just when you were about to call him again, you felt… strange. mentally cursing at the city council for not putting lamps in the park you started running. your gut told you to. your gut also told you not to look around.
but you did.
you let out a shocked scream when you saw junwoo. in a blink of an eye he was suddenly one step behind you, grabbing you by your baby pink cardigan. the one wonwoo gifted you.
“leave me alone!” you screamed but the force of the pull was so powerful that you tripped back. luckily, you landed on your back first.
your phone fell out from your hand. you wanted to grab it, but junwoo stepped on your hand. you whined in pain, crunching up.
“see, i’m having a struggle right now. should i already kill you or wait for wonwoo to arrive. because… you think he’s coming, right?” junwoo’s voice echoed in your head.
to be honest, you weren’t sure.
your heart was beating at an inhuman speed right now, trying to figure out what to do.
“but we can have a small compromise” junwoo took off his foot from your hand, causing you to instinctively bring it closer. the tears in your eyes blurred your vision but you managed to suddenly roll over away. “i’ll scratch you up just a tiny bit. if he makes it in time, he might be able to save you”
“fuck off” you grunted and tried to stand up. as you wanted to run away, he kicked the back of your knees. you were helpless to prevent from falling, only to put the weight on your hands. if that hurt, you weren’t ready for the upcoming pain in your thigh, just in your femoral artery.
wonwoo came back home and from the moment he opened the door, he knew something was off.
your shoes weren’t messily thrown on the ground. you didn’t bring leftovers from the café. the apartment was quiet and dark. no smell of baked goods and your perfume, no sound of your calm breathing. or of your heartbeat. you weren’t home.
while nervously scratching his neck wonwoo tried to recall if he forgot about something. maybe you went out with your friends? but no, you’d leave a message… right? maybe you decided to leave him? or… oh. the date.
he pulled out his phone but didn’t see any notifications from you.
his - usually slow - heartbeat sped up, breath stuck in his throat. did you really leave him? he knew it was bad, he felt like he was neglecting you; duh, he knew it. he felt so helpless because seungcheol just needed help with that one guy who appeared in town lately but…
he couldn’t believe you didn’t even text him.
that’s when he noticed something on his phone.
a small moon icon next to the hour.
he frowned, swiping down. do not disturb. oh. how did he even put do not disturb on? after a five hundred years he’s still getting used to all of that technology but– whatever.
his eyes widened upon seeing like a thousand notifications from you and almost the same amount of missed calls.
the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: wonwoo jelp
the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: theres a guy ar mw work he creeped me our roday
the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: he said youre a vampire lol
the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: imomw home but im so fucking scared my hands arw shakinr so much
the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: i love you sobmicj but please pick ip
the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: km enywrinf the park roghr niw but i feel so strange
the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: do i turn aeousn????
the sun to my moon, my beloved y/n: wonwoo please answer im so sxared
wonwoo slammed the door, almost tripping down the stairs. a guy at your work? why haven’t you told him? okay, you’ll talk later. right now he has to get to the park. you’re fine. you’re gonna be safe, he’ll get there quickly. even if you managed to get on the bus–
he entered his car, calling you. you’ll surely pick up, right? you’ll pick up and tell him you’re fine, you’re on the bus now, you’re safe.
suddenly his car door opened and someone sat at the passenger’s seat. wonwoo turned his head and looked at mingyu flabbergasted.
“what are you–” wonwoo breathed out, his hands shaking. you aren’t picking up.
“what’s the name of the café y/n works at?” mingyu asked. wonwoo threw away his phone, starting the car.
“moon made… something like that. why? i literally do not care right now, she’s–“
“junwoo works there”
wonwoo choked on air, taking a sharp turn. mingyu, who haven’t put his seatbelt on, slammed onto the door.
“fuck”
his friend quickly fastened his seatbelts and gulped upon seeing seeing how the numbers on the counter rose threateningly.
“y/n is in danger, she messaged me… and– what if– do you think he…?” wonwoo breathed out. mingyu, his friend of almost four hundred years, have never seen him so emotional. even when in 1722 wonwoo was about to literally die - because of a fight he got with a higher vampire, seungcheol - he was stoic. calm. normal.
“i don’t know. seungcheol is on his way, he told me he’ll rip his head apart if he hurts you or y/n but…” mingyu sighed, grabbing wonwoo’s phone. he put the password (the date of the day when you two started dating) and looked at the texts. it doesn’t look good.
“it doesn’t… look good, does it? fuck i’m so pissed at myself. somehow i put the do not disturb thing on and i missed all the notifications” wonwoo grunted and looked around “we’re nearby. please hold on…”
“wonwoo…” mingyu started slowly “i know you’re emotional right now but please… please don’t do anything stupid. you’re both higher vampires, this can end tragically”
“i don’t care. as long as y/n is safe and fucking alive. you know what that psychopath did in 1800!” wonwoo hissed, taking another sharp turn.
“i know! that’s the reason why we took seungcheol’s side!” just as he said that, mingyu was prepared for the turn and held onto his dear life to the door grip. wonwoo pulled over and left the car, slamming the door.
it didn’t take long before they located you. wonwoo’s heart clenched painfully upon hearing your cries and hard pants without seeing you.
“i smell blood” he grumbled, looking at mingyu. the thing was that mingyu stopped drinking blood like hundred years ago, he was fine. wonwoo, on the other hand, restricted his drinking but fully stopped when he met you. comparing 6 years to almost 500…
the smell was getting stronger and your heartbeat slower. then he saw you. on the ground, sobbing harshly. a growing puddle of crimson liquid was pooling under your right leg.
“y/n look, your boyfriend!” junwoo’s voice made him sick, not to mention that he nudged your leg with his. like you were nothing.
“nonu?” you whispered, fighting to keep your eyes open. it was barely a whisper to be honest but due to his hearing he was able to catch it.
he started walking towards you but junwoo clicked his tongue.
“stay there, traitor” he growled, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants “move an inch and she’ll be a lifeless body. same goes to you, mingyu”
“what do you want?” wonwoo asked, afraid that if he’s gonna look away for a second, you’ll…
“honestly? seungcheol. but i figured i’d be more fun to watch him suffer… and that human girlfriend of yours seems to matter a lot for you. and you mean a lot to him. well, her too. simple as that. the things in the way aren’t a big deal either. if i have to kill her or you to get to him… it’ll be at least endearing” he explained.
“listen i know i… betrayed you. but you killed innocent people, junwoo. just as you’re about to do with my girlfriend. leave her out of this and no one will get hurt” wonwoo talked slowly, your breathing getting slower.
“you didn’t hear a thing i just said, huh? i don’t care. or maybe i’ll give her to the werewolves? they’re not friends of mine but i’m sure they’ll like her” junwoo said and kneeled. he cupped your face, fingers digging into your jaw with force.
you felt like life was escaping from you, like air from a popped balloon. with the rest of the strength you had, you gathered your saliva and spat at him.
both mingyu and wonwoo were speechless.
junwoo slowly wiped his face and your boyfriend realised something. if junwoo wanted to bare his claws - and he just might to that - they’d go straight through your skin.
but something or rather, someone stops him from doing that. or doing anything in general.
seungcheol’s silhouette would go unnoticed by humans or even some lower vampires.
he yanks junwoo backwards by his shirt.
“if you wanted to talk to me, you’re more than welcome. but leave the fuck wonwoo and y/n alone” he hissed, immediately attacking him “and i made a promise to myself that if you hurt them, you’ll–“
“be dead, i assume. you’re worse than the werewolves” junwoo hissed.
wonwoo rushed to you, not caring about them. seungcheol will manage. he’s a higher vampire, probably older than all of you gathered here. he’s strong.
and you’re not.
he’s falling onto his knees, taking you in his arms immediately. wonwoo scans your face quickly, nothing than the marks from the grip, and moves to check the rest of your body.
then, he sees the wound. a deep cut on your thigh, precisely aimed at your main artery. other than that your hand was probably twisted. but the literal bleeding made him panic. because who knows how many time you have left considering the fact that junwoo cut open one of the critical parts of the blood system.
“wonwoo?” you mutter, fighting to keep your eyes open.
“it’s me, darling. it’s me, please– forgive me. i’m so sorry i should’ve-“ he started mumbling apologies like a broken record, tears gathering at his waterline.
“it’s fine, you’re here now” you mumbled, grabbing his hand with both of yours “i love you so much…”
“hey, hey. i know. i know, y/n, i love you to. but you’ll be fine. i promise” he breathed out, pressing his forehead against yours. his mind was racing with thoughts. he won’t manage to get you to the hospital. it’s way too far. he could stop the bleeding but assuming from the amount of blood you already lost— would it help? he feels helpless while you’re dying in his hands. it’s just a matter of seconds.
“nonu… you’re a vampire?” you gasp suddenly, one of your hands going to clutch his shirt. he nodded, still deep in his thought “then you can– turn me…?”
“bite her, wonwoo” mingyu suddenly appeared behind his back
“but i never– not on purpose–“ wonwoo grunted and stiffened once he saw your eyelids dropping “i don’t–“
“do it” a barely audible plea left your mouth, your hands slipping from his chest; your face scrunched up in pain. everything was going dark, your eyelids more and more heavy.
“it might hurt…” wonwoo warned before baring his fangs; he dived into the left side of your neck, a sharp sting bringing you back to reality for a brief moment. you sobbed harshly before a sudden blackout hit you.
your blood was sweet; the sweetest he has ever tried. wonwoo felt you losing consciousness, your body in his arms like a puppet. your heartbeat halted.
suddenly seungcheol came back, blood splattered on his face.
“that asshole is dead. what’s with y/n…?” he asked quietly. wonwoo pulled away, taking a deep breath. a trickle of crimson blood went down your neck. wonwoo looked at his friends; the tears in his eyes making seungcheol… sad.
“she’ll be fine” seungcheol mumbled. wonwoo grabbed your stiff body in a bridal style; he felt the warmth escaping from you “i can feel it”
“take her home” mingyu hummed, noticing the way wonwoo looked at you “let us know once she wakes up. because she will”
he nodded, for the first time in a long time not sure about the rightness of his decision.
you opened your eyes slowly, your body overtaken by pain. you felt weird; somehow cold.
the first thing you saw was wonwoo on the edge of the bed. his head was leaning downwards, eyes closed. he must have been thinking about something because his brows were furrowed, a deep crease between them. he looked like he haven’t slept for days.
you shifted carefully, noticing the bandage on your hand. the memories suddenly flooded you back; causing you to wince.
wonwoo suddenly felt your arms around his waist, his body jerking in surprise.
“y/n?” he asked, voice cracking.
“tell me it was a bad dream, please. or that you’re real” you whispered, shaking.
wonwoo hugged you back, placing a hand at the back of your head.
“i’m here, i’m real. it’s all good now i promise” he mumbled into your hair, afraid to let you go.
you sobbed into his chest, his embrace feeling like a dream after all of the events.
when you pulled away, he looked at you with so much care in his eyes in almost hurt. you tried to gather your thoughts, trying to think of the best way how to ask him about everything. as you did so, your hand traveled to your neck and you were surprised to feel a bandage there. right.
“i’m sorry if that hurt” he mumbled shyly
“it’s fine. but… what… what am i now? can you tell me everything…?” you asked quietly, your hand finding his. wonwoo intertwined your fingers, taking a deep sigh.
“i don’t know how much he told you but… i’m a vampire. and by biting you i turned you into one as well. you died but the venom from my fangs caused you to kind of… come back” he explained slowly “mingyu is a vampire too. well, all of my friends are”
“that would explain why you know each other so well” you chuckled, instantly regretting that. a wave of pain came through your body, causing you to wince. wonwoo’s eyes widened, sudden realisation hitting him.
“do you need anything? medicine? i can bring some pain killers” he said, pulling the duvet up. your thigh was professionally bandaged.
“it’s alright but… you could give me a kiss” you pouted.
“god, you don’t even know how scared was i…” he whispered before gently cupping your face and planting a tender kiss on your lips.
you wanted more, of course you did, but he leaned away. he wanted to look at you like this forever, without thinking about the possibility of losing you again.
“do you… want to talk? about what happened before?” your boyfriend asked. you sighed, nodding. even though you were glad you’re alive - and able to kiss him again - you had so many questions.
“just… explain everything to me. i’ll listen” you hummed, patting the spot next to you.
and he did. he explained to you that seungcheol is the oldest and that he was born as a vampire, that making him a higher vampire. due to that he can kill other vampires - because the regular ones like you aren’t able. you might hurt another vampires but won’t kill them if you’re not a higher one. wonwoo explained that junwoo and him were friends but his slaughtering of innocent people made wonwoo leave him and tell his location to seungcheol. they had some private fights going on hence the will of revenge. that’s what he was so busy with lately – seungcheol found out junwoo is in the city and wanted to find him. he explained that you’re not going to be a vampire that’s described in books. you won’t have shiny skin, you won’t have allergic reaction to garlic or sunlight, you’ll be able to see your reflection in a mirror. you’ll just feel cold at times and after some time and training you’ll get some supernatural traits.
“did you plan on telling me? that you’re a vampire?” you asked, gently grabbing his arms and pushing yourself onto his lap
“i… i did. maybe on our anniversary. i was scared but i promised myself i’d do it. i… i wanted to ask you if you want to be turned into one to” wonwoo smiled softly, looking at you “because the thought of you dying and me living without you… it made my heart shatter into pieces everytime i thought about this”
your heart swelled. it must’ve been so hard for him. this made you think if he was in a situation like that because but–
“and i messed up. i know work is work but i neglected you. it won’t happen again, i promise. and also… you need to show me how not to accidentally put do not disturb on” he huffed and then threateningly put his finger up, his ebony irises sending you a serious look “and next time tell me right away when there’s a creep at your work”
“do not disturb…?” you scoffed, putting his hand down.
the sun peeked through the window, framing his face in golden light.
“well then, mr jeon” you hummed, placing your hands on his arms for support “can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?”
you didn’t have to tell him twice; he finally had an infinity to spend with you. when wonwoo pulled you closer, his teeth grazing against your lips you realised that it all would explain his thing for biting.
[ masterlist <3 ]
taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @moonacholy ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddenoudepression ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @gyudiarys
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princess-of-the-corner · 2 months ago
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Everyone’s favorite(?) gatekeeper gaslight girlboss, Lila
Turtle - Tortora
Bee - Miele
Mouse - Hamelin
Ox - Dominataur
Tiger - Carnivore
Rabbit - Leprotta
Dragon - Zanna Drago
Horse - Cavallo Selvaggio
Goat - Caprascuro
Monkey - Tamarin
Rooster - Gallo del Sole
Dog - Cucciola
I just think she’s neat
This is as good a time as any to say I don’t take credit for most of these as they were compiled from many of other people’s suggestions
Ah fair on the compilation. I'm sure I used some others have (Some kinda with permission like Panthera and others in a 'I saw that somewhere and it stuck in my head')
THAT SAID
Love the Lila picks!
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cheezewhis · 2 years ago
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minefield-of-a-ninja · 1 year ago
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Blood Sugar Sex Magik
Pollen | Dreams | Fairytales | Zanna | and some things more nefarious.
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Pollen
A Fight For Love & Glory - Winchesters x you (female)
Summary: You’re struck by sex pollen, so Sam and Dean agree to help you out.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, sex pollen, feelings of guilt, ass play, dirty talk, W*ncest adjacent
Words: 2K
Magic Sex & French Fries - Jo Harvelle x Ruby 2.0
Prompt: Great Big Lesbian prompt: SPN, Jo and Ruby II have to have sex to save the world. Or something. Sex pollen? I don’t care. 😘
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, sex pollen, fisting, confuzzled boys
Words: 1K
Bad Girls Underneath -  Ruby 2.0 x Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle
Summary: Ruby and Jojo get hit by a sex curse again; this time, they need Dean’s help.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, magical-dick/male-gaze bullshit, probably too much commentary and emotional complication, why am I like this, I’m sorry, sometimes I can’t help myself, fisting, brief choking
Words: 2,600
Dreamy/dreams
Cactus - Dean Winchester x Meg Masters x Castiel
Summary: Post-battle, exhausted and wanting, Dean and Meg and Cas take care of each other.
Warnings/Tags: 18+ ONLY, dreamlike sex, a little choking, Dean’s always hungry
Words: 3,200
I’ll Keep Them Still - Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle
Summary: Dean remembers promises and pictures in his mind. And he remembers her.
Warnings/tags: mature, songfic, angst, dream/afterlife sequences, purple prose, I’m sorry
Words: 1,100
Moving Furniture - Steve!Cas x Meg Masters 2.0
Summary: She’s been gone for a year – sacrificed herself to save Sam and her unicorn – but Cas still dreams about her.
Warnings/tags: non-explicit dream sex, fluff, shmoop, there’s a dog
Words: 2K
If You Don’t, Dear, Confess - Sam Winchester x Rowena Macleod
Prompt: Sam has dream about being seduced by Rowena in the bunker that gets interrupted/woken by Dean?
Warnings: mature
Words: 620
Fairytales
Hark and Hush - Purgatory Dean x wolf spirit in a female body
Summary: This is the story of how Dean Winchester hunted, became enamored with, and slew the ancient spirit of the Big Bad Wolf.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, stalking, blood, gore, rough sex, character death
Words: 2,200
More Nefarious *dubious consent
His Sword - Michael/Dean x female prostitute
Summary: Michael takes some time to remind Dean who’s in control.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, edge play, bondage, knife play, blood play, choking, rough sex, name-calling, character death
Words: 2,300
Supernova - MOC Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Since Dean’s had the Mark and the Blade, he’s pulled away from you, afraid of hurting you. You miss him, and you’ve had it. One night you push him to the edge.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, bondage, blood play, biting, bruising, knifeplay, rough sex, dubcon/mindfuck
Words: 2,500
Zanna
Just My Imagination - Dean Winchester x female Zanna
Summary: After Mary leaves the boys a second time, Dean needs a reset, or to blow off some steam – something. He heads out on a snowy evening the night before Christmas and finds just the right thing.
Warnings/tags: mature, Hallmark channel fuckery
Words: 2,800
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slytherinshua · 1 month ago
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we in the season finally
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orikiys · 1 year ago
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list your moots as skz songs!!
also i love ur works sm babes ❤️
FINALLY OKAY *cracks knuckles* let’s goo, i am an avid sappy song listener so many of these might be related to it!
@aravrs she is so streetlight by binnie coded! like the song screams her 🤩🤩 she has always reminded me of binnie in some or the other way so yess. YOU ARE MY CHANGBIN 🫵 ILY
@haneagerr VOLCANO this song was written for her. yes. jisung wrote it for her guys, it’s time i told y’all the truth anw 😄 the song is filled with angst and she is my daily dose of angst dump ( i dump most my angst fics on her 😄 )
@hotteoki okay so my lovely skits is for sure super bowl don’t tell me otherwise ‼️ for as long as i’ve know her super bowl fits her personality so good 😍😍😍 super biwl is such a banger and so is skits personality 🤩 girlie pop is amazing!!
@jisungsdaydreamer DREAMY AHH okay so she reminds me of sunshine! the song sounds so soft and it always reminds of dreams! sunshine was my first skz song and when i read dreamy’s works it always reminds me of it!
@blue-jisungs axie reminds me of limbo by minho! there’s a story behind it? so when i started texting her on dc i was listening to limbo and from the start to the end of the song i was texting her that’s why ig whenever i listen to limbo it reminds me of her?
@wheeboo rania reminds of case 143! she is so full of love and creativity im jealous 😍 she is such a sweet person honestly 🤗🤗
@slytherinshua zanna is DLC ! it’s such a free spirited song and everytime i text her i feel so genuinely happy 🤩🤩 teach me ur ways girlie pls
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ragnars-tooth · 1 year ago
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I got distracted and then didn’t finish the other ones but here are my brainworms for your viewing pleasure
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fandom-hoarder · 3 months ago
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Just read and commented on your new fic (loved it!) and this line is giving me brain worms:
“Sam feels stupid and helpless, and wonders how he ever managed those few times he was sick and alone with no one to care for him but his imaginary friend.”
I can just imagine a very small Sammy getting sick when John and Dean are on a hunt that goes long and he’s left alone in a motel room. He can’t go out because he’s sick and John drilled it into their heads to not go out alone because it would raise suspicions. Sully is there with him and he’s doing his best to take care of Sammy. He even enlists a couple other Zanna who don’t have charges or whose charges don’t need them.
Omg thank you! Glad you liked it!!
I totally imagine Sully calling in reinforcements to get Sammy through a fever, and Sam thinking he was just fever delirious. Sully getting him to swallow pills because the only fever reducer they have is some old tylenol packets that came with the first aid kit. Putting wet cloth on Sam's forehead, Zanna friends "borrowing" soup from their kids' houses and cooking it while Sully checks Sam's temperature. Sully's friends helping him figure out how much water Sam should be getting and how to make sure he's hydrated. Sully carrying Sam when he was too dizzy, etc. The memories fade into the background like a lot of his Sully memories, the way the time before he started hunting with his family seems washed over with watercolor or clouded with grave smoke.
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