#let bruno dance more

[dororoxpenana]

HOLY HECK I FINALLY FINISHED THIS WMDHALSJS ofc it's last min up to the extended deadline even MSJDSLSK-

My entry for the final week of the @wdtajn event, song! 😭😭💚✨️💚 Every time I hear this I picture Bruno just dancing and having lots of fun 🥺💚 (Lonely Dance - Set It Off)

- - - - -

THIS WAS SUCH A FUN EVENT AAAA I'm so proud of myself for participating and it's been amazing seeing all the other amazing entries! I'm happy I was able to contribute! 🥰💚✨️

Thanks to the lovely creators of the event for taking the time to put this all together for us! You guys are simply the best! 💗✨️💗✨️💗✨️💗✨️

[thef1diary]

🎧 Max verstappen marry bruno mars

A Beautiful Night | M. Verstappen

Summary: Max discovers how much he enjoys referring to you as his future wife when you pretend to be engaged for fun one night.

genre: fluff, no warnings.

wc: 2.1k

celebrate 2k w me :) taglist form masterlist

A gentle breeze flowed through your bedroom windows as the soft morning sun shone. Inhaling deeply, you turned to face the opposite side, away from the natural light that would disturb your slumber, but you were still sound asleep.

Your hand rested on your lover's back, who had tucked his hands underneath his own pillow while lying on his stomach, snoring softly.

You peeled your eyes open and looked at Max with a soft smile spreading across your face. Even after having the chance to wake up next to him every morning for the previous several years, you continued to cherish these early morning moments. It was as though time stood still at that very moment.

You lifted your hand to brush your fingers through his hair since it would always end up a tad too tangled in the mornings. However, as soon as you did, you noticed that the ring you typically wear on your index finger was now placed on your left hand's ring finger.

Furrowing your brows, you turned on your back with your left hand held in front of you. Your eyes narrowed as you sought to figure out why the ring was out of place.

Then, the memories came rushing back to you, causing your jaw to drop as a light chuckle left your mouth.

It's a beautiful night, we're looking

for something dumb to do

It started off with classic bar hopping. An activity you and Max had decided to take upon since you had a free evening with quite a few hours to spare.

Before you entered the first bar of the night, you turned to face Max and slipped a ring from your index to your ring finger. "How many free drinks do you think we can get if we say that we just got engaged?"

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

Max laughed at the way you wiggled your fingers to show off the ring. He wasn't opposed to the idea as it would definitely make the evening rather entertaining.

But he still shrugged, "I don't think people are going to buy the story, especially with that ring."

You looked down at it, now adorned on your ring finger. "What's wrong with it?"

Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice?

He held your hand in his while his thumb grazed over the thin band of white gold studded with lots of smaller diamonds.

"It's not engagement worthy, you know I will get you a much shinier ring."

You slapped his hand away, chuckling, "I know you will, but they don't need to know that." You nodded your head towards the door of the bar, hinting at the potential crowd behind it.

Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you

"Then let's find out," he agreed, holding the door open for you as you began the night.

Mingling amid a sizeable group of locals, you had forgotten how many bars you've entered tonight, however the slight sway you had while walking can indicate that the number was slowly increasing.

Well, I know this little chapel on the boulevard we can go

Under ambient lighting, you noticed a crowd of university students joking among themselves in one corner of the bar, and heard the clinks of their glasses mixed with cheers over the background rock music.

This bar had been more crowded than the last few, but you still enjoyed it nonetheless. The buzz running through your body all the way down to the tips of your fingers had quickly made you forget how much you disliked larger crowds.

No one will know, oh, come on girl

You would have felt out of place if not for the friendly locals who have managed to kept you engaged in conversations. But then again, Max would tell you that you were adept at reading the crowd—at least more so than he was sometimes, even while tipsy.

"To celebrate the future married couple, here are some drinks, on the house of course!" On the bar top in front you, the bartender sets a tray with four shot glasses that are filled to the brim with tequila.

As you picked it up, the liquid splashed around a little bit, dripping over the edge and leaving traces of the liquor on your fingertips. You held the glass up in appreciation towards the bartender and then downed the contents inside alongside your lover.

Who cares if we're trashed, got a pocket full

of cash we can blow

You nodded slightly at Max with a teasing smile covered by the next shot of tequila you consumed, knowing that this was another successful attempt at your plan. These free drinks were adding to the ones you had began drinking at the previous bars.

Max watched with a smitten smile as you laughed along with a few other people who had asked to see your ring. Fortunately everyone who asked so far this evening, was a tad too tipsy to question the lack of a bigger diamond, only cheering in giddy happiness for a stranger before buying you both another round of drinks.

Shots of patron and it's on, girl

Once you exited the final bar of the night, the sky's darkness started to disappear, giving way to a paler blue hue that signified the impending sunrise.

Max's arm was resting on your waist as you walked side by side, however it was next to impossible to walk in a straight line. Laughing every time you accidentally bumped into each other, your stomach was now aching but the laugh bubbling up your throat never stopped.

Don't say no, no, no, no, no

"We should do that again," Max commented, and you couldn't help but look at him with a cheeky smile. "Why, you like calling me your fiancée?"

He paused, stopping you from taking another step as well. "If I had a proper ring, I'd get down on one knee right now and make you my fiancée."

Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

"Ring or no ring, my answer will always be yes." You stood in front of him, still facing him and placed your palms on his cheeks.

He gasped and shook his head, "you can't just say yes before I propose."

You chuckled at his antics, "why not?"

Max grasped on to your hand that adorned the ring, quickly sliding it off and holding on to it. "If you're going to say yes, let me at least propose."

And we'll go, go, go, go, go

He took a step back and almost stumbled over his own feet, causing you to let out a gasp in regard to his safety before it turned into laughter that echoed throughout the empty streets.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched you laugh, knowing the decision he was about to make would be the best thing he'd ever do in his entire life. Although he knew that he loved you endlessly and would never be able to imagine his future without you in it, tonight he realized that there was no reason to waste any more time to ask you the question that's been on his mind for a few months now.

He kneeled down on one knee and made a makeshift ring box with his hands, with the ring lying flat on his palm.

If you're ready, like I'm ready

Your eyes widened when he looked ready to give a short speech, your words leaving your mouth in a rushed manner. "Max, baby, are you seriously doing this now?"

He nodded, "I already knew that I wanted you to be my wife, to be my future, and tonight seems to be fitting in a way."

You placed your hands over your heart once he started off by saying your full name, slightly slurring over a few syllables due to the alcohol still buzzing in his system.

'Cause it's a beautiful night, we're looking

for something dumb to do

"I need you to know that you're everything to me, mijn liefje. I don't think I can spend a single day without you and I don't even want to know if I can. Ik hou van jou, and I will keep loving you until my last breath. Will you, the woman who owns my heart, marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?"

You began nodding before he could finish his speech, making his smile wider. "Yes," you still stated.

He held his hand out waiting for you to place yours in his palm which you obliged to easily. After sliding the ring on your finger, he stood up and immediately pulled you closer by his grasp on your waist, capturing your lips with his.

"I love you, my future husband," you mumbled against his lips, earning a light chuckle from him before he responded with just as much enthusiasm. "I love you more, my future wife."

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

Due to your shuffling about in bed, Max's eyes fluttered open before closing again as his eyes hadn't adjusted to the light yet. With his eyes remaining shut, his arms found your waist, sliding his body right next to yours.

His lips grazed your ear, and he muttered, "good morning, Mrs. Verstappen.”

You bit your tongue to keep a smile from forming on your face since you couldn't help but correct him: "Future Mrs. Verstappen."

"We can go to the chapel down the street and make it official," he suggested, blinking away the signs of sleep from his eyes as he turned to hover over you.

Is it the look in your eyes or is it this dancing juice?

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer with a smile gracing your face and eyes twinkling with delight, "that eager?"

Leaning closer to you, he placed a peck to your cheek. "I proposed to you while we were drunk, completely trashing my previous plan, of course I'm eager."

"You had a plan?" You asked, shocked by the piece of information he dropped casually.

Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you, oh

He groaned due to his own slip of the tongue as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. When he didn't respond any further than that, you threaded your fingers through his hair and urged him to show you his face.

With a sheepish smile on his face, he admitted, "I might've."

"Tell me," you prompted but earned a shake of his head, "I can't."

Don't say no, no, no, no, no

"You already proposed, you don't need to hide it anymore," you reminded him, bringing your left hand in between your bodies to admire the sentiment behind your ring.

Max leaned his body weight on one of his forearms to free his other hand so he could grasp onto yours. Bringing it closer to his lips, he pressed a kiss on your ring.

"What makes you think I won't do it properly again?" He asked with a sly smile, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand.

Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

You hummed, knowing Max well enough to have an idea that he would do something private yet extravagant. "I don't think it works like that, I already said yes."

"Well, you can say yes again."

Sighing, he rested his back on the bed, laying an arm across your pillow and with a gesture of his fingers, you shuffled closer to him. Resting your left hand on his chest, both of you looked at it, admiring the symbol of your future.

Then you huffed, "are you seriously not going to tell me?"

And we'll go, go, go, go, go

His response was immediate, clicking his tongue, "nope."

You turned away from him; away from the warmth of his body and into the torture of the sun shining directly in your eyes. But you didn't budge, only muttering, "I don't like you," in his direction.

If you're ready, like I'm ready

It took him less than two seconds to adjust his body and cuddle you, engulfing your smaller figure. His arm wrapped around your waist, while his other hand found the perfect spot to keep the sun from stinging your eyes.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he murmured in your ear, aware that your previous remarks lacked sincerity. 

'Cause it's a beautiful night, we're looking for

something dumb to do

Your frown faded into a slight smile, but you didn't turn to face him because you were now in a comfortable position.

You placed your hand over his, which was resting on your waist, and interlaced your fingers, ready for a future with him.

Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you

Taglist based on the form: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @helenemandl6 @charlesleclercsonlywife @thedecalcomania-blog

[bookyeom]

pairing: mingyu x reader word count: 3k warnings: kissing, swearing, Mingyu being a simp

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. (Also, this fic in particular references the iconic 1987 film Some Kind of Wonderful, but I think I explained it well enough for someone who may not have seen it! However, if you haven’t seen it… Watch it. In my opinion, it tops all of those “must-see” movies like Sixteen Candles, etc. I adore this movie. The OG friends-to-lovers.)

nothin’ on you by b.o.b., bruno mars

they might say hi and i might say hey but you shouldn’t worry about what they say ’cause they’ve got nothing on you, babe

You groan as the doorbell rings, your eyes finding the time on your phone. You’d just settled in with your bunny pajamas and your rattiest, biggest, comfiest sweater, and you really don't want to move now. What you want is to disappear into the couch that you’d spent way too much money on, under your favourite blanket, and mindlessly scroll through social media videos of cats for hours while pretending you aren't perpetually single on the holiday of love. 

As much as you try to ignore it, the ringing only becomes more persistent, mixed with obnoxious, intermittent knocking. You groan again and stand up, making your way over to the door in annoyance. There are only a handful of people who would dare to be so irritating — Soonyoung if he wanted food, Chan if he wanted to show you a new dance routine, or… 

“Mingyu?”

“Hi,” he says brightly, and your brain short circuits. He looks as wonderful as always, black hoodie and sweats, eyes warm as he waits for you to reply like a normal human. 

You know that the right answer would be a greeting in response, but all you can think to say instead is, “It’s Valentine’s Day?” When Mingyu’s face falls a little bit, you hurry to explain yourself. “I mean… Do you not have plans?” 

Admittedly, that response isn’t much better, but you genuinely don't know the answer to your own question. You had just assumed that he did have plans — you hadn’t even considered the possibility of him being alone today, honestly. You hadn’t really wanted to think too much about it. It wasn’t like it’d be hard for funny, kind, Adonis-among-men Mingyu to find a date. All he had to do was smile at any man or woman in his general vicinity and they’d be under his spell. 

You know first hand what that feels like.

Your best friend showing up at your door on February 14th has replayed a thousand times in your brain. You’ve been head over heels in love with him for years now. The fantasy usually consists more of him in a tuxedo holding a huge bouquet of roses, proclaiming his love for you before kissing you passionately, but you can’t deny that you like this casual, tuxedo-less Mingyu just as much — if not more. He’s just… Mingyu. Soft and warm in that hoodie that you love, holding a box of your favourite pizza in one hand, a bag of who knows what else in the other.

“Do you not want me here?” He pouts, and you cave.

You sigh, but a smile makes its way to your face regardless. “Of course I do, Gyu. I just thought you had plans, that’s all.”

“I do,” he counters. “With you.”

You ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words, ignore the soft smile he sends your way when you move aside to let him in. “Alright, then… Let’s be single as hell on Valentine’s Day, together.” 

Mingyu beams, stepping past you and into the apartment. 

“Movie?” He suggests as he slips off his shoes and immediately makes his way to the kitchen with the pizza. You hear the sound of cupboards opening and closing as he makes his way around with ease, like he knows where everything is like the back of his hand. Because he does. Your heart stutters a bit in your chest at the reminder of how well he fits into your life, how well he knows your apartment.

He knows you pretty well, too, which is actually a big part of the reason you’re so surprised that he’d shown up today. 

Because anyone who knows you knows that you’re in love with Kim Mingyu. Even new people who spend just five minutes with the two of you can tell, and you’re basically a pro at dismissing the couple questions by now. It seems the entire world can tell you’re head over heels except for the man himself, and you really don’t understand how he seems to have absolutely no clue. If he did, you don’t think he’d be so cruel as to suggest spending Valentine’s Day together. 

And yet here he is, moving around your house like it’s his house, too.

He has no idea, you remind yourself. He’s just alone on Valentine’s Day, and he likes spending time with you. That’s all.

You busy yourself setting up in the living room, making room on your side table for the pizza and whatever else he’d brought. You catch sight of yourself in the reflection of the TV and grimace. Theoretically, you’re both dressed casually, so you shouldn’t feel underdressed for this impromptu hangout. But in reality, Mingyu looks better than everyone else all the time, no matter what he’s wearing. He reappears a few moments later looking every bit the part of an athleisure model with the pizza box, a bottle of wine, and a box of your favourite chocolates in hand.

“A heart-shaped box of Lindt?” You can’t help but blurt out. It isn’t unlike Mingyu to bring your favourite snacks to movie night, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and the chocolates are in a heart-shaped box.

“It was on sale,” he shrugs in response, settling down on the couch, and you want so badly to question the peculiar choice further. You don’t.

You hand him the remote, grabbing the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor at your abrupt departure from the couch while he puts a movie on. He seems to know exactly what he’s looking for, which is interesting considering he’s one of the most indecisive people you’ve ever met.

“What are we watching?” You ask. “Action? Thriller?”

Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, his other arm already outstretched for you to fall back against. You settle in next to him, pulling your knees up and draping the blanket over the both of you.

“I thought we could do something a bit different tonight,” he finally answers after a pause, and you look up at him in surprise. 

“Like what?”

He simply nods his chin towards the TV, where the opening scenes of the movie he’s chosen are beginning to play. You recognize the title immediately: Some Kind of Wonderful. 

Your heart leaps into your throat.

You’re not sure what to make of this. You’ve never seen the movie, but you know the premise of it: two best friends falling in love. This has to be a joke. You can’t help it as your entire body stiffens, and you tell yourself to relax. 

You can’t.

“Why?” You finally blurt out. Your chest feels tight. You don’t know if you’re reading far too much into it, but when have you ever watched a romance movie together? You’ve expressly made sure that you didn’t.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Mingyu replies. “Thought it would be nice.”

You’re looking at him again, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He finally acknowledges you with raised eyebrows of his own, meeting your eyes briefly before motioning to the TV with his chin.

“Can you just watch it? It’s a good movie, I promise. Give it a chance.”

You nod slowly, doing as he asks, but you can barely focus for the next hour. Everything has been so strange; the movie choice, the way he’d shown up with wine and chocolate — all of which could have been excused, maybe, if it wasn't for the fact that Mingyu is acting strange, too. He’s normally so pliant against you during movie nights, so clingy. But tonight, despite your closeness on the couch, all he does is rest his arm loosely around your shoulders. No fingers tracing your skin, no pulling you against his side, no getting distracted by your hair and attempting to make a shitty braid with it. No maneuvering his own body so that he’s the one with his head in your lap. It feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s waiting for something.

What in the world is going on?

It’s excruciating, but you try to focus. You’re almost there when the ending scene begins to play, but your whole body is still tense. You watch as the main characters, Keith and Watts, finally kiss in the middle of the street, and you think you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You swear Mingyu has tensed up beside you, but you don’t take your eyes off of the screen as Keith finally speaks his confession. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well, you’re stupid,” comes the words from Watts, and you suddenly feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. This all feels a little too real. Why did he put this on? What the fuck is Mingyu playing at? 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” At Keith’s last words of dialogue from the screen, you feel Mingyu’s grip on your shoulder tighten. 

“You never asked,” Watts replies, teasing, and you can’t take it anymore. You turn to your best friend, eyes wide, and he slowly moves to turn off the TV.

The atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically, and you can’t look away from him, frozen. You can’t utter a single word. He’s picking at a piece of thread on his sweatpants, eyes downcast as he avoids your gaze. 

It hits you like a brick, the reason why he’s being so strange. It’s because he’s nervous. 

There’s no way. 

A million thoughts race through your mind, a million reasons why going down this road could be a bad idea. But you have to ask — you have to know.

“Why didn’t you have plans tonight, Gyu?”

He meets your eyes again, and you can barely breathe. His gaze holds firm, intense, as he says, “Because I wanted to have plans with you.”

“On Valentine’s Day?” The insinuation of your words is clear, and you know that Mingyu understands exactly what you’re asking.

His eyes remain steady on yours as he replies, easily, “Yes.”

So simple. Certain. Sure. 

You remind yourself to breathe, gathering all the courage that’s left in you to speak again. “‘Why didn’t you tell me?’”

You watch Mingyu’s face as you repeat the words from the movie, your voice trembling just the slightest bit. He’s really looking at you now, a soft smile on his face at your words, and your heart leaps into your throat. He’s stunning. He’s always stunning, but the way he’s looking at you right now has you feeling like you’re walking on air. His gaze is so warm, and you don’t want to look away from him ever again.

“‘You never asked.’”

“Neither did you.” Your words are your own now, and Mingyu nods, using the arm around your shoulders to pull you in against his chest. You flush as he draws you towards him, and you briefly wonder if you’re dreaming.

“You’re right.” He gazes down at you fondly, and your hand lifts tentatively to his jaw. He nuzzles into your fingers, turning to gently kiss your palm, and your eyes don’t leave his mouth. His free hand lifts to rest on top of yours, before he softly runs his fingers down your arm and up to your shoulder, your neck, your face.  

“‘I knew you were stupid’,” you quote cheekily from the movie script again. Mingyu’s lips break into a wide smile as he lets out a surprised laugh, canines on full display as he beams. 

Then he’s using his whole body to pull you into him, silencing your own giggles with a kiss. 

Your breath is caught in pleasant surprise, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. You’re impressed with how quickly you’re able to respond after your brain factory resets, the feeling of his lips on yours stunning you for only a moment before you react. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly and earning a pleased hum from him. His teeth gently sink into your lower lip in retaliation, and you can feel your entire body react to it. His hands find your hips, helping move you so that you’re in his lap. All you can feel is him as he pulls you in closer and closer, kissing you like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He finally breaks away to kiss along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, before moving to slowly press one final kiss at the base of your throat, and you can feel goosebumps spread across your skin at the featherlight touch. 

“I love you,” he whispers softly, and you lower your chin to meet his eyes. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s broken out at his words, and you feel a bit like you’re soaring as he continues, “I’m in love with you. I really am, and I need you to know that.” His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, his fingers gently massaging the skin there, and your forehead falls to his. 

“Mingyu…”

He hums, and you pull back to look at him, your fingers moving to softly trace every part of his face. You’ve long since committed him to memory, but one more time can’t hurt. He waits for a moment before he lets out a whine, burying his face into your collarbone.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

You let out a giggle. “Why?”

“Because I’m shy.”

You let out a snort, and Mingyu pulls away to pout up at you. Your fingers gently brush over his lips, his nose, his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to hide again, but he doesn’t.

“I love you too,” you say softly, and his pout is gone. “I have for a really long time now.”

He surges forward to press another kiss to your mouth, and you can’t help but gasp into it. You can tell he’s satisfied with himself as he smiles, pulling back just to say, “Guess we’re both stupid then, huh?” 

You laugh, and you can almost feel the happiness radiating off of him as his arms fold around your back, pulling you back in and resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, your head softly falling to rest atop his.

“Oh my god,” you hear him mumble after a few moments of silence. You hum in question, and he moves to look up at you again. “I’m so excited to date you,” he says, his face full of genuine joy. You can feel yourself flush crimson as he continues, “I’m going to date you so hard. You can’t stop me. I’m going to hold your hand all the damn time, you have no idea.” 

“I can’t fucking wait, boyfriend.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the fifth of our Thirteen Valentines just in time for the holiday/Carat Day! Who better to celebrate with than Kim Mingyu himself? Special shoutout and dedication to the best girl @tae-bebe, who fell victim to the Mingyu enemies-to-lovers trope irl :) xx

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’m sorry!)

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[11:04 pm]

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

This was likely the best concert you'd ever been to. It was lively, fun, and the best time you'd had in a while. And you're an idol! You sang along to all the songs and danced with little to no worries in the world.

The next song started, a familiar beat started, your favorite song. You turned to Jaehyun excitedly squealing as the instruments started up. He smiled at you brightly, nodding his head along with the music.

“Ooh, don’t we look good together?” Bruno Mars started singing.

You raised your arms, swaying side to side, singing along without a care in the world. This night had been amazing. Ever since becoming an idol, there had been very few times where you felt free out in public. You always felt like you had to lol over your shoulder, be proper, and on your best behavior in case something got you in trouble.

There were always cameras pointed at you, but not tonight. Bruno Mars had a running habit for his shows which worked out great for you as an idol, your boyfriend who was an idol, and other celebrities who very rarely got to be out in public without the fear of a camera on them. You and Jaehyun were lucky that both your companies supported your relationship, but that didn’t mean all fans did. Even though your relationship was confirmed, you and Jaehyun very rarely went out publicly just for your own comfort. The lack of cameras and phones at this camera made it all the more exciting on top of the fact that you both loved Bruno Mars.

The cameras around the venue jumped around to different people in the audience as the song went on. “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine,” Bruno sang.

The band paused, “I said fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine.” The cameras jumped to a couple, as the woman was pulled in and given a kiss. You hadn't realized the cameras were going to jump around the audience and show the fellas grabbing their ladies.

“Let’s try this again, fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine,” Bruno Mars sang again. Before you could even process the image on the screen you felt Jaehyun wrapping his arms around your waist before dipping you back into a kiss. You laughed loudly, cupping his cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

You stood upright, just catching the screen showing the two of you before switching to another couple as the line repeated once more as the song kept going.

You and Jaehyun danced the night away with each other, singing at the top of your lungs without a worry in the world. It hadn't even crossed your mind that surely people, fans of either you or Jaehyun, might break the rule of no phones and catch sight of you.

When you were both in the van ready to head home, the serotonin boost dropping to a tired calmness. Jaehyun let out a laugh, leaning over to show you his screen. Someone had captured the entire video of you and Jaehyun from one of the big screens. You could see the dazzling smile on Jaehyun's face and the look of surprise on your face as he dipped you back. You had been so in the moment that you hadn't even heard the sharp rise in cheers and volume when you and Jaehyun appeared on the screen.

It was a cute video and you were glad someone had captured it. Scrolling through the comments, it looked like people agreed. The video had been posted almost an hour ago and already had over 100 thousand reposts. You were even trending! Some people in the comments even admitted to not knowing who either of you were but wanted to become fans.

You handed the phone back with a smile, "someone said that if I ever get tired of you, they'll take care of me. They offered to take care of all my plants while I'm away and make me dinner every night."

Jaehyun playfully rolled his eyes, "most of the comments were about you. I forget how much the internet adores my girlfriend."

[rrxnjun]

potential • z. chenle

pairing. zhong chenle x fem! reader genre. rich kids au, childhood friends au, friends with benefits au. angst, fluff, suggestive. word count. 20k (20.079) warnings. alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual activity, sexual innuendos, a heavy make out session or two, use of lyrics from ariana grande and sarah close and masking them as my own words a/n. why do we call it a rich kid chenle au when he's a rich kid irl. anyways for the fact that this was one of the most spontaneous fics ive ever written it sure did take a lot of time to execute. took a lot of inspo for the lifestyle from the sky castle kdrama so if its not accurate dont @ me bc ive never been rich LMAO

playlist. in my head – ariana grande ; successful – ariana grande ; nonsense – sabrina carpenter ; supermodel – måneskin ; that's what i like – bruno mars

You saw his potential without seeing credentials. And maybe that's the issue.

August 28, 2020 – somewhere in the Bali sea, 1:27 AM

The music is loud. The weather is humid.

Wrapping up the summer before your senior year, dancing around in the bar of the cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, one last stop before your 28-day cruise around Southeast Asia is over, the loud music from the bar rings in your ears as you dance around, a glass of expensive Mendis coconut Brandy swirling in your hold. The taste of the alcohol on your tongue burns, not quite used to the burning sensation in your mouth– this is one of the first times you’re drinking, since your parents were always big on prestige and acting classy. Your parents went to sleep, though– excited to explore Benoa tomorrow, to immerse themselves in nature and explore Bali’s temples and heritage. You, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to party– accompanied by none other than your parents’ friend’s son, who grew into the position of your childhood best friend solely because his and your family have always been close, choosing to spend vacations together; a relationship that was mostly fueled by the immediate closeness of you two during the summer breaks and ski trips to Swiss Alps every January.

And while you’re no stranger to pearls, charity events in your parents’ mansion in Hong Kong, golf courses in Miami and fashion shows in Milan, growing up in the world of designer bags and prestigious titles, you feel quite stranded in the middle of the sweaty teenagers, all of them with the same social status as you, drinking expensive alcohol and swinging your hips to the EDM music playing through the speakers. It almost feels like this is the first time you’re able to enjoy yourself without anyone’s supervision, screaming at the top of your lungs into Zhong Chenle’s face as he laughs at you on the dance floor, and truth be told, you could care less about the pictures you’re going to take for your Instagram tomorrow, showing everyone just how good you’re doing and how much fun you’re having on your lengthy cruises around the continent, because somehow, even though the bar is clothed in gold and you feel a bit like in The great Gatsby, this feels like the least pressuring part of the whole trip.

“We should go to parties more often!” you scream into Chenle’s ear, taking a sip of your Brandy as you twirl yourself around him, the straps of your sparkly spaghetti-strap tiny top falling off your shoulders in a moment of carelessness, your thoughts somewhere completely else. You may be 19 years old and insanely wealthy, but that still doesn’t mean you are experienced in the art of partying– quite the opposite, actually, having to always seem cultivated and presenting yourself in a way that would suggest that your family is high on prestige and recognition– so to finally be surrounded by people your age, dancing along to the music and jumping up as you all chant the lyrics to Barbie girl by Aqua (how ironic) feels quite ecstatic.

“Like our parents would let us,” Chenle rolls his eyes, lips almost pressed against the shell of your ear as he makes sure to get close enough for you to hear him.

Sighing at his argument– knowing he’s absolutely right, but also hating the fact that he had to ruin your mood by stating it out loud– you shake your head as you down the last bits of your drink, putting the heavy glass onto the tray of a waiter that’s passing by to gather the rest of the empty ones scattered across the shiny tables in the corner of the room. Your brain is starting to get a little fuzzy and you can’t help the giggling escaping out of your throat whenever your eyes meet Chenle’s, the flush on the boy’s cheeks hinting at the fact that he’s not any better at handling his alcohol than you, having just as much experience in heavy drinking and partying as you do. 

You’re only 19 years old and you don’t know a lot about the world. After all, you were brought up in a family that always did everything for you– you never had to move a single finger. You never even had to clean your room, because your parents had people that would come by every morning while you were in school, just so you could arrive home to a tidy place when you were done with your lectures. You went to a private school, so you were always surrounded by people with a status similar to yours. You spoke about your tutoring classes that cost more than groceries for a middle-class family a week, you talked about your trips abroad, and if you had time, you even went shopping with your classmates after school before your driver picked you up and drove you back into the suburbs; your neighborhood guarded by a gate, the asphalt behind it so much smoother than it is in the rest of the town.

You never got to experience partying like this– only gaping with an open mouth when you saw those scenes in the movies you watched on Netflix in your own private movie room. And if you’re being totally honest, you never imagined enjoying such a thing. You never had the experience, so you didn’t really yearn for it, but now that you’re here, surrounded by loud music, experiencing the weird emotional feeling that comes with being in a crowd screaming in joy at the same time first-hand on your own skin, you don’t think you’ll be able to go back to how you were before.

This is not how rich kids party. At least not when their parents are around.

“You’re gonna be hungover tomorrow morning,” Chenle mutters into your ear when your eyes light up at the sight of more alcohol, contemplating on getting another drink, just because. 

“And you’re not?” you tease him, pointing to his glossy eyes and lazy walk, his legs tangling with each other every few seconds from the haze he’s been put in just by having a few drinks. The sight is quite funny– the ever-so composed millionaire son is now a troubled mess in your eyes; one wrong step and he could ruin the image his family has spent years to build up, but it doesn’t seem like either of you care, tripping over your feet and lounging at each other in the middle of the dance floor. 

Feeling like you’re playing a dangerous game, hanging off his neck and swaying your hips to the rhythmic beat, you gape into his blown-out eyes and desperately try to get your brain straight. The more you drank and the more you spent time in Chenle’s close proximity, the less you were able to control your emotions and the weird thoughts in your brain that have been slowly eating up all your notions for quite some time now. Gaping at his plump lips and feeling his palms burning at your hips, his fingers ever-so-slightly hovering above the curve of your ass, you’re finding it hard to concentrate on the music or on the words spilling off his tongue, his voice never shutting up even in the loud bar. You always told him he talks too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind– he seems to actually take much pride in his annoying tendencies, talking your ear off on multiple occasions even when you tell him he should probably stay quiet for at least a minute, so your brain could recharge.

Truth be told, you listen to him most of the time anyway. He always talks and you always listen, rolling your eyes at the snarky parts and giggling at the jokes; so the fact that you suddenly can’t focus and just desperately want him to shut the fuck up must be the effect of all the alcohol you’ve been drinking tonight. 

And your next step might as well be the main consequence of the coconut Brandy as well– because even though you’ve been dreaming of his plump lips on yours for quite some time now, you’ve never actually dared to act up on the desire. But your intention to make him go quiet seems to be working when the train of words stammering out of his mouth is cut off, a surprised noise trailing out of his throat when you kiss him on the dance floor; and to your surprise, he doesn’t seem to mind your weird sign of protest to his endless talking– quite the opposite, really, as he lets you take the lead and taste the mix of alcohol in the Long Island cocktails he’s been drinking the whole night off his tongue, your hands mindlessly trailing up to thread themselves into his hair. 

This is not your first time kissing a boy– you once pecked Song Eunseok on the lips when the two of you sneaked out of class one day in 9th grade– but you never once kissed anyone with such passion and desire before. You’re not sure where you got all the courage from and you’re also not sure where you learned all of this– but it must be working, with how heavily Chenle’s breathing when you finally let go of his lips and he rests his forehead against yours. In no time, he’s chasing you down again, drunk not only on the alcohol now as he tilts his head to get closer, one hand resting on the side of your neck, just a few inches below your jaw, keeping you in place. 

“You should learn how to shut up,” you mumble against his lips, breathing heavy as you break away from him again and open your eyes to meet your gaze with his. The music is still loud in your ears, but you swear you hear a static noise somewhere in your brain, a tingle in your fingertips making you feel like you’re about to have an out-of-body experience. Your drunken brain is not allowing you to ponder about your actions that much, not letting you think and contemplate the fact that you just made out with your childhood best friend on one of the most expensive cruise ships, drinking alcohol you weren’t supposed to spend so much money on, and maybe that’s a good thing– because there’s nothing stopping you in having the time of your life, no overthinking making you doubt your next steps and no feeling of shame or regret making the whole experience bitter as you dance pressed against your companion, letting him press short, yet daring kisses to your lips as time passes.

“I think I’m good,” he snickers, when the music suddenly cuts out, an announcer telling you that the bar closes at 2 AM and that this song is the last for the night.

Sighing in disappointment– because who even knows when the next time you’ll have this opportunity will come– you let Chenle lead you out of the bar, his hand glued around your exposed waist. Your walk is a little loop-sided and you two almost smash into the glass door (doesn’t matter that it’s automatic and it quite literally opened in front of your figures). Soon enough, you’re met with the golden interior of the cruise walls again, the design a little vintage, yet still luxurious, reminding you of the movie Titanic. Tripping over the doorsteps, hands getting caught on the red, velvety curtains hung around, you giggle at every word that comes out of Chenle’s mouth, bodies slowly, but surely getting closer and closer to your suite bedrooms. You’re quite sure your parents could hear you talking outside in the hall, but you choose to not ponder on what they would think of you if they saw you in this state too much, instead making yourself believe that they’re long asleep and won’t be woken up by your voices resonating through the quiet space. 

“So I guess this is where we say goodnight?” you mumble, hanging off Chenle’s neck. His breath smells of the vodka-tequila mix when he hovers over you, bodies off-balance pressed against the cold wall just outside of your bedroom. Flashing you a grin, face looking close to a cheshire cat, he nudges your nose with his, a quiet hum landing to your ear, not heard by anyone.

“Or we could stay up a little longer.”

Squirming under his touch, his lips softly, yet still a little uncoordinatedly landing on yours, you waste no time in unlocking the door to your room– even though you have a bit of trouble with finding the key in your small purse, even surprised you haven’t lost the bag somewhere in the middle of the night– letting your childhood friend in to your space at the suggestion, your clothed bodies falling to the soft cushions of the water bed. 

You’re only 19 and don’t know much about the world when you messily undress yourself under your friend’s eyes, blinded by the glints in his deep chocolate orbs when he looks at you from above and attacks your neck with kisses. And you usually don’t regret much, considering yourself a responsible individual, always rethinking everything and making sure it’s the right choice, but when you look back at this day now, you don’t really know if sleeping with Zhong Chenle on a cruise around Southeast Asia was the brightest idea of yours, considering the mental turmoil it’s gonna cause you on the way.

Well, at least you can say you lost your virginity somewhere in the middle of the Bali sea, and at least that’s something to boost your ego with, am I right…? 

July 12, 2007 – Tokyo DisneySea, 2:21 PM

If anyone asked you for your favorite childhood memory, you wouldn’t have a hard time picking one. Sure, one would think you have too many pleasant memories to choose from, so realistically, you should take more time to pick and weigh the value of each one, contemplating if the trip to Rome was a happier memory than the summer you spent in Los Angeles when you were 10, but you are 100%, completely in tune with the fact that if anyone ever asked you this very question, the words falling off their tongue with interest and enthusiasm, no judgment and no hidden intentions behind their question, you’d have an answer ready with a smile on your face.

You don’t hold much emotion to your past memories. You’ve been on more vacations than you can both count and remember growing up, and so even though you do think the pictures you took in Italy came out good and your skin glistens prettily in the warm sun, even though you do think you experienced a lot of fun while going to the Target for the first time with your nanny– the woman your mum hired just because your parents were too busy with their business meetings the whole time you walked the streets of Los Angeles with the new woman you were supposed to trust with your life at the ripe age of 10– you wouldn’t say any of those memories are as close to your heart as the trip you took to Japan with the Zhong family when you were 6, the summer before attending first grade.

This was the year you and Chenle watched the Pirates of the Caribbean together for the first time, and even though it wasn’t in the initial plan, you two spent hours and hours and hours  of the flight persuading your parents to take you to Tokyo Disneyland, because you heard from his cousin Yizhuo that you could meet Jack Sparrow if you went. While your plan didn��t exactly work and the two of you didn’t get to go to the large theme park– because your parents were busy, mostly traveling because of business and so they didn’t have the time to arrange it, the amount of sulking you two did when you arrived to the rented house in the expensive part of Tokyo to the teenager that was supposed to watch you two for the time being was enough for him to take you two on a short train ride to the twin of the famous theme park– the Tokyo DisneySea. 

The 15-minute train ride you three took to the theme park was your first, and also last time you ever rode such a mean of transport. All you were used to were expensive sports cars and limousines– you never imagined that people took such transport even every single day, at times. You and Chenle were so immersed in the journey that it was hard for your babysitter to get you out of the train, your small, excited bodies almost tripping over your own little feet as the raven-haired boy dragged you through the streets of Maihama station. 

You could see the towers of the park and you could smell the salt from the sea even from a distance. The whole atmosphere felt magical, giggles often erupting out of your throat as Yuta– the boy your parents hired to watch over you for the day– bought a bubble blower from one of the stands and blew out bubbles you two chased around and tried to pop before they got to the ground. There were no expensive cars in sight, no people dressed in suits and designer shoes– well, except from the two of you, but you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of how much your attire cost at that age yet– and you felt truly, insanely happy. The adults that always watched you when your parents went to business meetings were stern and serious, never letting you have much fun, but today was different, and you find yourself wondering why your parents even let you be babysat by a reckless teenager in the first place. He was 16 at the time– 10 years older than the both of you– and when you look back at the day now, you think it was the time pressure that brought your parents into hiring him. You bet they paid him a lot of money, hell, you bet they even lended him a credit card he could use to entertain you two for the whole afternoon, and even though you found him using it a few times, you didn’t think he spent just as much as all your previous babysitters did. 

Not that you knew the value of money back then, after all. Maybe the fact that you couldn’t tell how much money everything was worth back then is what truly made the whole day so carefree and happy for you.

You were children of wealthy Chinese business owners. You always had everything they saw in your eyes– you didn’t even have to say it out loud and it was held up to you on a silver platter. This day, though, you didn’t even have to use that much money– if you truly compare it to other vacations your families have been to– and you can’t help but think it’s ironic how despite this fact, this day is still your favorite childhood memory. 

The Tokyo DisneySea was catered to a more mature audience– even serving alcohol in the premises, a thing no other Disneyland does– but even though you were just 6 and couldn’t drink and there was no Jack Sparrow waiting for you in the streets of the theme park, you and Chenle had a blast. Maybe it was a good decision on Yuta’s part to take you to the DisneySea instead; it catered to your Pirates of the Caribbean needs perfectly despite it not being the initial theme. The ships and wooden coasts and harbors were enough for your imagination to create stories about pirates in your head, the three of you attending various rides and screaming at the top of your lungs together over the course of the afternoon.

“Wanna go to the Tower of Terror?” Yuta asked you, his toothy grin on full display as he dragged you two to the scary ride when you finally got to the American Waterfront. 

The teenager was wearing a black muscle top with L’arc en ciel written on it– you found out only a few years later that it was a japanese rock band– and with his long, black hair falling to his forehead, he looked just like the person that would enjoy scary rides and horror movies. You, however– you weren’t prepared to get scared by green ghosts and eerie music. Not at 6 years old anyways, although you doubt you’d do better on this day.

If there’s one thing you need to know about Zhong Chenle, it’s the fact that he’s a lover of horror. And Korean dramas. But mostly horror– a few years later, when you were both the age Nakamoto Yuta was when he brought you to the Tokyo DisneySea, your friend came to a Halloween party dressed like the clown from IT and managed to jump-scare you every moment he physically got. There was no surprise in the small boy liking the idea of attending the scary ride, and no matter how hard you tried and protested, there was no use in you saying no. Because the two of them wanted to go, and you, quoting Yuta, ‘couldn’t just stay alone outside’, so you were pretty much forced into the darkness of the Tower of Terror, your small body pressed against Chenle and Yuta’s– you refused to sit anywhere but sandwiched between the two in the middle of the cart– shutting your eyes close when the scary music started playing and you could feel the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

You trembled the whole time, panic resting in your beating heart, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself clinging to Chenle’s small hand, squishing it so hard he screamed at you in the dim lightning of the ride. You didn’t let go, though– that’s what he gets for dragging you along– fracturing his bones wasn’t in your concerns, if it made you feel more secure and safe.

The fond memory of the day ends with the moment the scary ride is over and you finally get out of the darkness– with Yuta having to carry your out of terror half-paralyzed body from the cart. To this day, you still don’t have a clear outlook on why this day is your favorite childhood memory, but you think it might be the mix of Chenle’s excited laughter as he scared you every two seconds after the ride, the apologetic hug he enveloped you in after you almost burst to tears the third time, the taste of the sausage Yuta bought you two for dinner, the taxi ride to the rented house you had to take in a rush before your parents got back from their business meeting, and the melodic voice of your best friend when he sang you the opening theme to the Pirates of the Caribbean before you two fell asleep on the same bed in your hotel room.

Either way, despite the terror, you don’t think you’ve ever had this much fun ever again. 

When you peed the bed that night, your parents decided to never hire a teenager to look after the two of you again. From that moment alone, there was less horror, but also less fun.

May 5, 2019 – tennis courts in Jinqiao, Shanghai, 4:17 PM

One would think that growing up with Zhong Chenle would put him into a position of your almost-brother. And while you did agree with the statement on most days– like when he laughed so hard that snot came out of his nose and almost fell into your lunch plate when you were 15, or when he shot you with his paintball gun so hard you had a bruise on your knee for three weeks when you were 17– you think you’re starting to slowly outgrow this phase. 

Zhong Chenle is no longer a brotherly figure to you when you two pick up tennis at the ripe age of 18. 

It wasn’t either of your ideas, of course. Tennis is not a sport a teenager just suddenly picks up one day because they’re interested– at least not when you’re incredibly wealthy and can pretty much afford any other hobby in the entire world. No, it was the idea of Chenle’s mother– because, quoting, ‘the kids barely go out these days, they might as well pick up a sport!’ – and with the copycat tendencies of your dear mum, you were dragged along into it as well. And so now, during the finals season, on top of that, you two have to go play tennis on one of the private tennis courts your families rent for three hours a day every Friday afternoon instead of studying or focusing on getting your stress out of your body doing other, much more enjoyable things.

“You know, you look a little too excited for someone who hates playing tennis,” Renjun– the neighborhood kid (your parents being business partners for quite some time now made you and the short boy become friends somewhere along the way)– states, snickering as he lays on one of the benches on the side, his own tennis racket thrown carelessly on the ground as he watches the two of you running around the court, playing.

“I only do it because I’m bored,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sending the little yellow ball over the net with much force, making you run to the other side of the court. 

“And I only do it because I need to prove to him that he’s not the best at everything he tries,” you add, sending the ball back to your friend. 

“Just say you want to impress him and go,” Yizhuo– Chenle’s cousin from his mother’s side– teases you from the bench, sitting next to Renjun. Her remark doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you send the yellow ball her way after her cousin passes it towards your side of the court again, aiming precisely for her forehead but missing, earning yourself a terrified yelp out of the girl when she scootches closer to the boy next to her.

“That’s totally not what’s going on, but sure,” you roll your eyes at her when she throws the ball back, but you don’t feel interested in continuing the game anymore. Tiredly walking closer to the two sitting at the little shaded bench, wiping the sweat off your forehead, you try hard to not think of the snarky remark that was sent your way. 

Is it really that obvious? Because sure, you’ve always found Zhong Chenle to be your brother figure over the years of growing up– but there’s something about the humid air of the tennis court and his competitiveness that have you eyeing him when he takes a sip from his water bottle or when he adjusts the hairband sitting on his damp forehead. He wears shorts that reveal his calves very nicely, and when you play 2 on 2, you find yourself focusing less and less on the game– earning yourself a frustrated yell from Ning Yizhuo herself as she plays along your side– and more and more on the Gucci tennis shoes adorning his feet as you scan the boy up and down, his figure growing taller and taller each passing day captivating you in a sense you’ve never quite experienced before.

“I can’t believe my mum dragged you all into this shit,” Chenle giggles when he sits next to Renjun on the bench, following you to the shade. There’s only 20 minutes left in the time your parents rented the court for and you figure that you can spend that time recharging your energy instead of playing the boring game. 

“Not me,” Yizhuo says, “she made my mother feel bad about not signing me up for any sports. You know, your mum’s pretty persuasive, especially when it comes to looking good in front of everyone. If it wasn’t for my mum, I wouldn’t be doing this shit,” she complains, shrugging as she adjusts her ponytail that’s always sitting neatly on the crown of her head.

“I love the fact that Renjun here is the least athletic out of all of us, but he is the only one here willingly,” you snicker, earning yourself a chant of amused laughs at the spoken truth. Now, nobody forced Huang Renjun to come play tennis with you every Friday– but the fact that he doesn’t have many friends in the neighborhood was what made him come along, too bored on his own and with nothing to put his attention to. He doesn’t like playing much, but everything’s better than sitting alone at home, am I right?

The three of you gossip about everything and nothing– the new family in the neighborhood, especially, because Renjun saw their son last Sunday and found his outfit absolutely atrocious (“You’d think people with money would at least know how to dress well, but no. That’s not the case with that Wen Junhui guy.”). The time passes by quickly, and when the timer on Chenle’s phone goes off, signaling that the three mandatory hours at the tennis court are finally over, you all stand up and walk over to the gate, shoes dragging along the sandy surface of the ground with much tiredness. At least you’re getting some cardio in…

“Is your driver coming to pick you up?” Chenle asks as you pay goodbye to your friends, both of them getting into expensive cars waiting for them at the parking lot. Turning to him, you hum in agreement, suddenly shy under his gaze. It’s not even summer yet, but the May sun is already harsh on the skin, getting redness to spread along his cheeks, only further sculpting his handsome bone structure you’ve grown so familiar with over the years. 

“What about you?” 

“Told my mum I’ll walk home instead. It’s not like it’s only a 20 minute walk anyway,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at the irony of you having to drive home despite living only a few meters away from him, in the same wealthy neighborhood. You grew up together, in the same mowed lawns, in the same green labyrinths of your families’ villas, in the same high ceilings and golden accents on the interior of your houses. After watching him from the corner of your eye, you start to wonder about what changed between the two of you that made you so weak to him now, that you’re both 18. Did he change? Was it the fact that you were now both adults? You don’t think that’s the case– because even though you were 18, there were no more responsibilities waiting for you than they were the years before. 

“My driver can take you,” you say, kicking the rocks below your feet, “well, unless you want to walk home alone instead,” you add, noting his previous sentence.

You see him take a sip out of his water bottle, shrugging at your suggestion. Chenle’s not a fan of inefficiency, no matter the fact that you can afford anything you could ever want. It’s a quality of him you find quite strange some days, but you don’t ponder on it too much. 

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. And after replaying all the memories you have with the boy in your head, you think that your 18 year old self isn’t so stupid for falling for him. See– you’ve got to know a lot of men over the course of your life. Many tried to get with you barely before you even grew into an adult, seeing the vision of money and the social status you could give them. Some, on the other hand, never gave you back the attention you were giving them. All relationships you had in your life were blinded by the imaginary price tag you always carried around with yourself, and so everything always stayed surface-level and plain. No wonder you fell for Chenle– no matter how long it took you to get to this part of your friendship– he’s the only one that ever showed you his true self, he’s the only one that ever trusted you enough to go deeper in conversations with you and treated you like a real human being. You know him well and he knows you well; he’s like a book you always find yourself rereading, excited to find that your favorite characters always stayed the same. At the end of the day, you think you were always meant to fall for Chenle.

Standing under the blazing sun, you wait for your driver to get to the tennis courts. You wait for 10 minutes, then 15– and when you get a little too overheated, Chenle offers you his water bottle and mumbles something about being on time. When the time passes 45 minutes after your driver’s supposed arrival, your friend turns to you with a glint in his eye, a grin sitting on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Wanna walk home with me instead?”

And the truth is, you don’t find yourself disagreeing. And you also don’t find yourself hating the walk up the hills of the neighborhood– no matter how tiring it was to your already exhausted limbs– and you don’t find yourself complaining about the lack of AC or the vehicle driving your ass home to your, admittedly, too big of a house. Chenle entertains you with his talks– because he always talks too much for his own good– and when you stop paying attention to him and lose track of where you’re going, he drags you back to the sidewalk by your hand and your fingers stay interlocked when he teases you about the fact that you almost got ran over by a white Cadillac. 

“Listen, there’s this song I think you’ll like,” he hums when you’re 5 minutes away from your house, pulling out his phone out of his back pocket and opening up the Spotify app. He plays you a song by Ariana Grande, singing along to the lyrics of the chorus. His voice goes thin when he tries to mimic the singer’s voice, dragging along the english sentences of ‘it feels so good to be this young and have this fun and be successful, i’m so successful!’, irony seeping from his tone. Your hands are still intertwined as he swings them back and forth and you don’t even really care about the subtle implication of the lyrics he’s singing– because it’s Chenle, and despite being just as wealthy as you, he’s no stranger to calling you a snob. 

When you’re 18 and walking back from your weekly tennis endeavors, you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your heart when your friend twirls you around in your driveway, your white tennis skirt childishly fulfilling your unsaid dreams of becoming a ballerina, before he walks to his house standing on the opposite side of the road. 

You don’t even care that your poor driver got fired by your mother right after she realized he forgot to pick you up from the tennis court as much.

October 17, 2020 – a charity evening, Shanghai, 9:11 PM

Your whole life so far has been guided in the aura of money. When you were little, you didn’t realize it as much– your young, undeveloped brain couldn’t phantom the fact that your annual trips to Italy and summer vacations at yachts and in the Paris DisneyLand weren’t a normal occurrence to everyone. You couldn’t understand the value of money, and you think that maybe, you never truly will. Because you were born fortunate, never having to worry about a single thing, always living in wealth and with gold around your neck. 

The closest you are to understanding just how much money your family truly has is at the charity evenings you are forced to attend. Walking around, mostly bored– because truly, you didn’t have much of an idea just how much money you’re sending to the unfortunate parts of Africa and what the whole thing even has to do with you, when the money wasn’t really yours in the first place– you try to at least look through the flier your family made for the event, reading through the carefully crafted sentences, feeling at least a little sorry for everyone that doesn’t get to live the way you do.

“Isn’t it funny how this is the only way our families can present themselves in a good light?” Chenle mumbles when he reads over your shoulder, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

Turning around to look at your companion, you furrow your brows at his snarky comment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we give to charity so people don’t hate us as much,” Chenle shrugs, taking a sip from the champagne poured in a tall glass you’re pretty sure your mother spent hours and hours picking out when renting this place, just so everything could be perfect. 

“It’s just jealousy,” you say as you walk side-by-side with the boy, the expensive fabric of his white button-down hugging his body in all the right places, leaving you light-headed when you let yourself indulge in your thoughts for too long and stare at the curves of his forearms. It’s been a few months since you slept with your childhood friend– and while you must admit that you regretted it a little when you woke up in the morning, with a hangover and sore limbs, you also didn’t regret it as much as to turn the offer down when it was next brought to you. And the next time, and the next… 

“You think?” Chenle asks, and his interest in your answer seems genuine.

“Yeah,” you nod, shrugging to yourself, “we have more money than any of them ever will, so it’s only natural for people to feel jealous and talk spiteful things about us.”

Chenle hums at your answer, licking his lips before he looks you dead in the eye, the smallest glint of irony shining from behind the dark orbs, making you shrink under his gaze. “It’s not like it’s hard work anyway,” Chenle mutters, “if it wasn’t all stolen money, at least the charity work wouldn’t feel as fake.”

You stop in your tracks at the comment, furrowing your brows. “Stolen money?”

The boy next to you snickers at your clueless eyes. It’s no wonder you never really cared about the source of your family’s wealth– you were born to it, so you never had a reason to doubt it. And truth be told, you never really complained either. You don’t think anyone in your place would, really. You just accepted it the way it is, and you never asked any questions. For all you know, your parents are hard working business owners– you bet their money is well deserved for the amount of effort they put in– so to hear that it’s stolen money, from someone who is in a similar position as you, on top of that, you can’t believe your ears.

“I mean, they’re business owners. Let’s not act like both yours and my parents don’t meddle with the taxes at least a bit, sweetheart,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “if I were all those people outside of it, I’d hate myself too.”

His words do little to comfort you. They do quite the opposite, really, and even though Zhong Chenle has no proof to show you of the fact that your parents might have at least a bit of dirty money on their hands, you can’t say you don’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’re that gullible– and who is the one lying straight to your eyes now, if it’s your friend or your parents– and you start to believe that you’d trust everything Chenle tells you, because that’s just the relationship you have with him. He could do anything and you’d follow him to the end of the world. It takes years to build that bond, and so even know, although you have the urge to scream at him for talking such things about the ones that brought you to this world– this perfect, shiny world– you find yourself holding back, the bubble around you bursting in a second, although you spent 19 years of your life living in the fake glory and bejeweled experience. Opening your mouth to ask him more about the matter– to get yourself out of the confusion you’ve been put in with just a few sentences uttered out of his always too-honest mouth, you turn to the boy when a man with a camera approaches the two of you, asking to take a picture of you.

And you comply, because what else are you supposed to do? This is how you’ve been raised. You smile for the pictures, you grin when you find yourself in the magazines, you nod when people recognise your name, you greet people with a polite nod, because you never know when someone wants to make business with your parents and you wouldn’t want to ruin good opportunities for them, would you?

With Chenle’s arm around your waist, your body instinctively leaning into his touch, you smile for yet another picture for the portfolio. Sometimes you feel like a princess– with everything it takes; both the royal responsibilities and the special treatment. More often than not, you find yourself enjoying the spotlight.

“Now they have proof that we were here,” Chenle mumbles into your ear, his lips gently brushing the smooth skin, “wanna get out of here? This party doesn’t look as enjoyable as the last one we went to,” the boy references the time you spent together at the cruise ship, with both the screaming on the dancefloor, and also the aftermath in your room, making heat puddle in your cheeks as you swat his hand away before it gets too low on your back in front of everyone in the room.

“I have to give a speech, but… maybe later?” you look at him, innocently batting your eyelashes at him, when the boy shrugs and takes a step back, downing the last drops of champagne from the expensive looking glass.

“I’ll be waiting back home,” Chenle says, “I bet our parents will stay until this all ends, so we have plenty of time for ourselves when you decide you’re tired of the gala.”

He disappears out of your sight the moment after, putting the empty glass onto a tray of one of the waiters carefully walking across the room, his back escaping out the front door. If you squint hard enough through the glass, you could see him getting into one of the sports cars he got from his parents for his 18th birthday– the vehicle driving off in the hands of his driver for the night, since he just had a glass of alcohol– and leaving you alone in the world of faux and feathers, fulfilling the responsibilities given to you by your mother. And for the first time– not only because you hate giving public speeches– you so desperately want to follow him, getting out before midnight like Cinderella, never attending another one of these evenings ever again. 

You don’t, though. You’re an obedient daughter.

And when you call him up from the entryway a few minutes after midnight, his rough hands welcoming you to his bedroom by undressing the thousand-dollar Tiffany dress you wore to the event– being the aftermath of his previous words or not, you start to think how ironic it is that your attire for the evening cost more than than the monthly rent of the people you were giving to in your speech. 

After a while, your words turn bitter.

March 23, 2020 – South Cape Owners Club, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea, 1:17 PM

“Did you really have to choose the most boring thing to do for your birthday?” Chenle mutters under his nose when all of your parents stride forward to get another hole in one, beads of sweat appearing on your foreheads as you stand directly under the midday sun. 

“This wasn’t my idea, okay?” Renjun huffs, carrying his golf equipment with him, the silly-looking golf gloves tugged right off his hands when his parents are no longer in sight. “All I wanted was to visit my grandma, but they decided we needed to do something special for my birthday, and when I couldn’t tell them anything I’d like to do, they dragged everyone to play golf.”

“I was thinking more like… clubbing and then crashing at your grandma’s place overnight, but okay…” Yizhuo snickers, watching as all of your parents joyfully talk between themselves, their conversation rarely leaving business matters as they play golf with as much enthusiasm as one can have while focusing on this boring sport. You don’t really know who made this game and why they made it– you can imagine seventy thousand different ways you’d love to spend your afternoon doing instead, more than a half of them supposedly more mundane than the sport itself; but you still know you’d enjoy even sitting down and getting ice cream better than having to pretend you’re interested in, what Chenle called, rich-people-only sport. 

“Maybe I can sneak a bottle up into my room later, but I’m not promising anything,” Renjun shrugs, sighing to himself as he takes out his phone from his back pocket and shakes his head at the sight of the time appearing on his screen. You’ve been at the golf course since 10 AM, and with how interested in the game your parents seem to be, you’re not leaving any time soon either.

Not really engaged in the conversation– because Chenle once told you you complain too much (you truly thought he was the one doing so, but you believe pretty much everything that comes out of the man’s mouth, because he’s mostly right about things) and you think you’ve done your fair share of complaining on your way to the golf course in the first place– you look around, trying to find a thing that could occupy your attention instead. Finding anything fun to do while playing golf may just be the hardest thing to do, but when you notice your companion Chenle missing and his figure appears striding towards your small group in a golf cart, the vehicle going full speed (even the barely 40 km/h looks like it could kill when he seems to not give a single damn about running you over), and suddenly, your mind is occupied enough.

Screeching when the golf cart barely misses your figure, you jump to the side and watch Chenle laugh from the driver’s seat. His malicious instincts barely ever leave his body and the operation of a golf cart is seemingly bringing out the worst in him– thank god he barely drives anymore– and you can’t help but laugh at his little stunt when the cart comes to a sharp halt and he waves you three over with a motion of his hand.

“Hop on, motherfuckers, we have places to be!” he says, all of you following his footsteps and jumping into the small vehicle– you in the passenger seat, next to Chenle, and Renjun and Yizhuo taking the two seats on the back. Once you’re all in, the engine grunts with the speed Chenle’s intending to get to in the weak thing, the atmosphere shifts into one with much more fun and adrenaline– because you know you’re not supposed to ride the carts (not this fast anyway) and when your parents find out, you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble. No, you’re not going to get grounded– you’re not a kid anymore– but the silent treatment and nagging from them about being well-raised and respectable members of society is enough to leave you scared of their anger for the rest of your lives.

“Slow down, I’m gonna fall out!” you scream when Chenle takes a sharp turn, the golf cart almost toppling over on the green grass. 

“I got you, don’t worry,” he notes, one of his hands loosely falling to your thigh to keep you in place, your skin heating up even more from his touch now, enjoying the hold but also fearing the eyes of your friends from the backseat. Your earlier terror is quickly erased with another sharp turn the driver takes– having much more things to worry about now, surviving being one of them– and when he zooms past the group of middle-aged people standing a few meters ahead of you, you already know you’re in big trouble.

Now you’re gonna get scolded for abducting a golf cart. When it wasn’t even your idea in the first place.

Well, that’s something to worry about later.

Chenle drives with the cart all over the golf course, the vehicle providing you enough entertainment for the next few minutes until you get tired of the ride. Looking over at him on your side, gaping a little at the view of your childhood friend driving the cart with only one hand, the other one still securely glazing your thigh, you almost choke out with how attractive the strange sight is to your eyes. Forcing yourself to focus on the road– and thank god, because if you didn’t hold to the side of the cart now, you’d surely fall out despite Chenle’s reassuring words and his hold on your leg– when the man cuts through a small hill in the golf course, the vehicle jumping up and falling back down making you scream in terror mixed with just a bit of excitement.

“Fucking hell, at least warn us before!” Renjun screams from the back, followed by Yizhuo’s amused laughter. You can only imagine Renjun’s almost fallen out, and even though the mental image looks hilarious, you really don’t need him to get hurt today, because he wouldn’t shut up about it for the next 8 working days. And it’s his birthday, after all– you wouldn’t wanna ruin it by having too much fun.

And so, with a last giggle escaping the boy’s throat, Chenle brings the golf cart to a halt, the vehicle stopping far enough from your parents to not get scolded immediately for making so much ruckus at the golf cart, the four of you enjoying the silence, still recovering from the wild ride. Smiling fondly to yourself and gaping at the boy next to you again, you suddenly grow appreciative of him. If it wasn’t for his wild nature, you would still be sulking somewhere on the golf course, pretending to enjoy living your snobby life alongside your parents. You bet even Renjun himself will find this moment captured in his brain as a core birthday memory, and the more you stare at Chenle’s side profile, the more you want to hold his face in your hands and thank him.

“Ew,” you hear Yizhuo’s voice from behind you, bringing you out of your thoughts. Looking back to see what she’s referring to, you watch her gaze landing on Chenle’s hand playing with the flesh on your thigh, heat suddenly rising to your cheeks in being caught in the exact position you feared a little while ago. 

“What–” Chenle snaps his head back at his cousin, while you quickly shrug his palm off your skin, but it’s too late now– you’ve been caught in the act and now you can’t do anything to erase Ning Yizhuo’s memory.

“You know, I thought you two were cousins at first. Like, from your dad’s side, I mean,” Yizhuo sighs, shaking her head in disbelief at the two of you, her comment not doing much to ease the situation either. Chenle seems to be confused at her words, his face scrunching up as he glares at the girl.

“We’re not,” you note, clearing your throat and looking at her with a glare, mentally praying for her to drop the topic.

“Yeah, thank god,” Chenle adds, and you should’ve expected him to make the situation even worse– it’s Zhong Chenle, after all– but his next words shock you and leave you gasping, mentally killing him right here and in this moment, “that would make a lot of things weird.”

“Ew,” Yizhuo repeats, and suddenly, that perks up Renjun’s attention– the boy previously facing the other side of the golf course and not paying you three much care– as he looks around and watches you with confusion in his features.

“What are you talking about?”

“That they are–” the girl takes it upon herself to explain her findings, but she’s quickly cut off by a sound of a middle-aged woman screaming through the place, her small figure striding towards the golf cart.

“Zhong Chenle, what do you think you’re doing?!”

And with that scolding tone, the previous topic is dropped. Thank god.

June 12, 2020 – Zhong Chenle’s room, Shanghai, 11:21 PM

A hand stroking through his hair, smoothing back the bangs and revealing his forehead in the dim blue of the neon light in his room, you lay on your side next to your friend Chenle, a blanket carelessly thrown over your half-naked middles to shield you from the breeze. You hum a song under your breath as you play with his locks, the black disappearing between your fingers like sand, eyes carefully watching his tired expression. 

If you thought hard enough, you could see the little boy you first met at your parent’s conference room when you were 3 materialize in front of your eyes. His cheeks were chubby and he was short, waddling behind you almost a head less than your size, and his voice was thin as he asked you for your name. From that moment on, you knew you were supposed to stick together– and while your parents were the first relative to bring you two together, you didn’t mind always being glued to each other’s hips. 

When you look closer at him now, it’s hard to see that boy in him. Harder than you expected, if you’re being totally honest. Don’t get me wrong, you can still see in his features– even though his cheekbones are more prominent now and his jaw is more chiseled, lips plumper and his figure built more firmly than when he was a little boy– but there’s something about his demeanor that completely changed over time. He seems less enthusiastic, and while one would think that it’s just him growing into being a more laid-back and relaxed person– he’s not a kid anymore, after all– you think there’s something more to it, you just can’t quite put your finger to it. 

Seeing him close his eyes every once in a while, lids falling under the weight of his tiredness and the comfort your gentle strokes through his scalp give him, you feel your heart clench with all the care you’re currently putting into the boy, and all that you’ve been putting into him throughout your growing up. After so many years– after getting so close and intimate with him– you don’t think you’d be able to let the boy go, and just the sheer image of ever losing him or leaving him behind leaves you trembling with anxiety. 

And so, despite being afraid of ruining the calm atmosphere that comes after making love to him, you speak up with a weak voice, contrasting to what you’re logically supposed to feel after getting to know the news this morning– just because you have to know. 

“Lele?” you mumble, hearing him let out a hum, his voice sounding as if he’s half-asleep, but you know he’s listening to you. “What are your plans… after you graduate?” you ask. The day of graduation is coming faster and faster towards you, the years you’ve spent at high school finally fulfilled after all the effort you put in on your finals.

“Dunno,” he replies, eyes barely opened as his arm that’s been previously laid on the mattress in between your two bodies moves to your hip, fingers drumming over the soft skin, “why?”

“Just wondering…” you speak, voice barely louder than a whisper. The boy stays silent– his eyes once again closing on themselves as you continue to play with his hair. One would think he’s fallen asleep, not awake enough to have this conversation, and you would even believe the fact and let the conversation go, thinking you’d find another time to dwell on this topic, but then, as a surprise, his voice startles you from your deep thoughts when he curiously inquires you, the hand on your hip steadying.

“What about you?”

Taking a deep breath in and out, a smile battling to take over your lips, you lick your lips in the heartbeat that comes before your answer. Swallowing your nerves– because even though you should’ve told him the moment you got the news this morning, you’re somehow stressed out about the action of doing so– you open your mouth and finally break the rules to him. 

“I… I got to Yale,” you say, on your toes. The joy and relief you felt this morning when you saw the email appear on your phone screen is daring to creep into the way you speak to Chenle right now, but you’re keeping it in. Not letting yourself scream and shout the accomplishment from the rooftops, you look at the boy, not a change appearing on his face at hearing your announcement. “I got into their business program,” you add anxiously, waiting for him to say something– anything– to your news.

As your friend, he’s supposed to be happy for you, isn’t he? He’s supposed to hug you now and squeeze you and tell you how you’ve done a good job and that he’s proud of you and that he’s cheering you on in your dream. None of it comes, though, as he only hums and nods at your sentences, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at you when you oh so excitedly talk to him about your life goals. 

Something inside of you breaks just the tiniest bit, your mood falling as you anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you not gonna say anything?” you demand, halting your movements through his raven locks, averting your touch and looking at him curiously.

You watch him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at you with an empty look, licking his lips before humming again and asking you in a tone of voice that barely meets interest or excitement. “So you’re gonna be a businesswomen like your mum when you get your degree?” he asks, nodding to himself.

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat. You’re a little confused at his weird stance towards the topic, but you battle out a tight-lipped smile. “I’m hoping for it.”

He hums again, the noise seemingly enough for him to consider it a valid conversation holder, a deadpan: “Good,” leaving his lips after a second, making you furrow your brows in confusion and utter disappointment. This is not the way you imagined the conversation to go– this is not how you wanted it to go at all.

Heaving out a sigh, you tug your arm to yourself, contemplating on speaking up– knowing you’re just gonna make everything worse if you do– but doing so anyway. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I mean, what else is there to say?” 

Looking at him in disbelief, your face scrunching up in various different emotions, all mixing into one– disappointment being the dominant feel, you think, you scoff at him. This is not Zhong Chenle as you know him, and sure, he hasn’t been the most overly-excited, cheerful individual these past few months, but you still think you deserve at least a bit of praise for the achievement of getting into one of the hardest universities to get to in the world, no?

“I don’t know, you could… congratulate me, I guess…? Tell me I did a good job, I dunno… would be nice,” you mutter, snickering once more to prove your irritation with the man.

“Oh,” he says, looking genuinely surprised, taken-aback, even, “well, congrats on the legacy admission, I guess,” he says, nonchalant, as if his words aren’t a dagger to your heart each second that passes, your blood pressure rising as the reality downs on you that he’s being serious and that this is not a sick joke.

“The legacy admission?” you repeat, eyes big and shocked, your whole body moving an inch away from him on the bed without you realizing.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, not a bit caring about breaking you from the inside, the humiliation slowly creeping from the tips of your fingertips to the depths of your soul.

“So you’re saying I went through the whole admission process and put in so much effort only for you to say that I got in because of stupid legacy?” you chirp, gazing at him with sharp eyes, blood boiling from the impact of his words. “What legacy are you even talking about?”

“Don’t act like you’re not a nepo baby,” he snickers, rolling his eyes.

Gasping at his words, baffled at the unexpected reaction, you stand up on the bed and stare at him with sharp eyes. At a loss for words, you stutter a little when you speak up again and utter out the next words, hoping to hit him where it hurts. “Like you’re not?”

“Never said I’m not,” he shrugs, “don’t have a problem with admitting I am.”

“So you’re saying I only got to university because of my parents,” you get out, glossy eyes scanning his peaceful figure, “so you’re saying I’m not smart enough to get into Yale?” 

“That’s not what I said–”

“But you implied.”

“You only hear what you want to hear,” Chenle sighs, as if he was tired of your antics, which only makes you more furious at the whole interaction.

“No, Chenle–” you stutter, his name rolling off your tongue as if it was meant to stop him with hurting you even more for discrediting your efforts, yet, you can’t find any more words to say to him as you stare at this limb body laying on the soft mattress of his king sized bed, shaking your head in disbelief.

Standing up from the bed and scattering around the room for your clothes, ignoring the way putting them on in front of him makes you feel like you’ve been stripped away from all your dignity, you hurriedly come to the door of his bedroom, almost forgetting your phone that you gather on your way out from the messy desk in the right corner of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he asks monotonously, watching you move through the place.

“Home,” you bark out, running your hand through your hair as you walk back to the door, ignoring the hot tears pricking your eyes at the feeling of your whole entire world collapsing in on you when he mourns from the bed.

“Don’t be mad, it’s not like I said anything bad…”

“Goodnight,” you snap, not bothering to look back at him as you escape his house in the middle of the night, running through the street to your house much earlier than you anticipated, wiping at your cheeks with angry palms. 

This is the first time he disappointed you, and you can’t tell if that felt worse, or if it was the excitement slowly and painfully stripping off your bones, making you feel like you’re running around without your flesh, completely see-through for everyone around.

June 27, 2020 – IFC Mall, Shanghai, 4:33 PM

“Do you think this makes my ass look extra hot?” Yizhuo asks, gaze shifting from you to Chenle to Renjun, the four of you currently in one of the designer shops at the mall. Leaning on the wall, arms crossed on your chest and chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug, not a word escaping your mouth.

“I’m your cousin, I’m not looking at your ass like that,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sighing as he takes a seat on one of the expensive looking sofas situated in the changing room, resting his head against the neck rest and closing his eyes in what seems to be tiredness or annoyance– either of, or both mixed in, equal parts.

“Oh come on, I need to know!”

“It does look super hot, Yizhuo, now can you–”

“So you are staring at my butt!” Yizhuo excitedly yelps, pointing a sharp finger towards Renjun, a bright grin settling onto her lips when the accused boy stutters, cheeks reddening at her comment.

“You literally asked us to, for fuck’s sake!”

“You could’ve refused, just like Chenle did,” she shrugs, smiling to herself in victory. If anyone was listening to your conversation right now, they would surely have a lot of questions you wouldn’t be able to respond to. Hell, even you’re confused half of the time you hang out with Ning Yizhuo– what the hell is going on in her head?

“He’s your family, of course he refused,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head as he drags a hand through his hair in despair.

“Whatever you say, Renjunie,” she chirps, closing the curtain behind her and changing back into the pants she wore when she got to the store in one swift motion, leaving the boy puzzled with her next words as she walks up to the counter, “I’m only buying those because you think I look super hot in them, just so you know.”

Paying for her things and escaping the store, the rest of you tagging along, you notice the boy aimlessly trying to forget about the whole situation, and his prayers were listened to, after all, since Yizhuo seems to drop the topic after teasing him so much, turning to you instead. Walking alongside with you, leaving the two boys a few steps ahead, she nudges you with her elbow, raising up her brow in question.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t even tried anything on,” she notes, “and we both know you’ve been eyeing that new LV collection, so there must be something bothering you.”

Sighing, hating that the girl knows you so well– that, or you’re being awfully obvious– you roll your eyes in annoyance and try to shrug the topic off. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s obviously a lie. Is it something with Chenle? You two are usually all over each other, so–”

“It’s not about Chenle,” you snap, cutting the poor girl off, “so drop it.”

“Did he say something stupid? I know my cousin, come on. I can slap some sense into him, sweetheart, just let me know–”

“Please let it be,” you insist, tone of voice almost a little too sharp for your own liking, but it seemingly does its job as your friend only shrugs and takes a sip out of the coffee you all bought when getting to the mall, catching up to the men a few steps in front of you, talking about basketball.

“Well, if you need to talk to anyone about it, you know where to find me,” she says, and joins the discourse with her cousin and the boy she’s been teasing for whatever reason for the last few weeks instead, leaving you to trail behind them like a lost puppy, deep in your thoughts.

It’s been a few weeks since you last talked to Chenle. He tried reaching out to you a few times, sending you texts to ask what you’re doing that day to see if you wanna hang out. It seemed that at first, he didn’t really understand that he upset you. After you continued to ignore him even on graduation day, only greeting him and sparing him a few words, he seemed to get the memo as he let you deal with your emotions by yourself instead. You were never given an apology– and truthfully, knowing Chenle, you didn’t even expect to get one in the first place. But still, it’s been bugging you and you couldn���t get his words out of your brain, because you know you can’t do anything about them– if this is the image he has of you, the opinion he created, you don’t think you can talk it out with him in the first place.

“Everything okay back there?” Chenle asks, looking behind at you. His eyes are big and honest, and you find yourself nodding to his caring question. Sparing him a word seems like too much effort right now, and so when he offers you a tight-lipped smile, you don’t have enough energy to reciprocate it.

“Princess Yizhuo here has sore feet, so we are calling it a day. You wanted anything from the mall? I can stay behind with you and go get it,” he continues, his words jabbing into you only reminding you more of the days you spent ignoring him. Realistically, he should be mad at you for it– maybe you even wanted that to happen so he would ignore you instead, giving you the silent treatment, but this is your childhood friend Zhong Chenle we’re talking about. He talks too much in situations where he should shut up instead, and that’s exactly what’s happening in this very moment as well.

“I’m good,” you note, shrugging as you throw the empty coffee cup into one of the bins on your way, your small group now escaping the mall and getting to the parking lot.

Walking towards Chenle’s Zenvo TS1 parked in the corner of the parking lot, you hear the chatter of the group resonating in your ears, not really engaging in the conversation yourself, but choosing to listen to feel included anyway. It’s not their fault that you’re not in the mood, and frankly, you’re glad they even invited you to the outing in the first place. Everything’s better than being left out in your books, even if it means forcing yourself into social interaction. 

“My driver should be here any minute,” Yizhuo smiles, waving at Renjun currently getting into his Porsche Cayenne that he got after you all arrived from his birthday trip to Korea. Watching the boy drive off– while listening to Chenle bitching about his driving (he does have a point though, the poor boy almost crashed into a pole on his way out) – you feel a nudge to your elbow, making you turn to your friend.

“Wanna get back with me, neighbor?” he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before answering. But now, you ponder on the question for a bit– you got to the mall with Yizhuo, having hanged out with her at her place before– but now that she’s getting a drive home, there was no use in you tagging along with her, since you live quite far from her house. Getting a drive home from Chenle is the most logical solution, after all, and that’s why you find yourself nodding.

Jumping to the passenger’s seat, waving at Yizhuo still waiting for her driver to get there– it should take only about 5 more minutes, with the speed her driver can get to when called– you silently gaze out of the window on your way back, not sparing the boy next to you a glance. He seems to not mind, carefully taking turns and waiting at the stop signs and red lights on his way to your neighborhood, humming along under his breath to the songs on the radio instead to fill the silence. You spend the ride chewing on your cheek, nerves eating you up from inside just at the sheer fact of being in his close proximity again, yet still being so painfully hurt at the feelings he expressed the last time you hung out one-on-one.

His car smoothly gets to the parts of the town that feel more rich– houses growing bigger in size, the gates taller in the sky and the lawns mowed more carefully, with more fancy bushes in the yards and pure-blood dogs running around in front of the gates. After a few minutes, your neighborhood appears in front of your eyes, his car driving past your house and into the Zhong property instead, making you furrow your brows in confusion and annoyance.

“You could’ve just stopped in front of my house so I could get out, you know,” you hum, sighing when he turns the engine off. 

“I was thinking we could hang out over at ours for a sec,” he shrugs, turning his face to you with a hopeful glint in his eye, which you dismiss with an annoyed huff and a roll of your eyes, reaching towards the door handle to get out and walk over to your house instead. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he calls for you, “are you still mad?”

“No,” you snicker, shrugging as you move towards the front gates, his figure quickly catching up to you as he grabs your wrist, halting you in your movements.

“I’m sorry. Let me make it out to you?” he mumbles, looking at you with eyes big and deep like honey, and suddenly, you’re a putty under his touch– just like always, you cave in– as you sigh, following him inside. You don’t miss the victorious pep in his step as he leads you inside, his hand still in contact with your arm, only letting go when you get to his room and he leads you to sit on his bed.

“Wanna play something?” he asks, thrusting a PS5 controller into your hands, not really leaving you much room for disapproval. Grunting and rolling your eyes at him, you watch as he opens up It takes two, your characters running around the split screen trying to figure out the way around.

The silence between the two of you is cruciating, suffocating, even, as neither of you have enough courage to open up the topic again. Tugging at your bottom lip, biting off the dry skin up to the point it bleeds, you sigh and turn to the boy again, putting the controller down. “Is this your way of making it up to me?” you ask.

Cocking his head to you, he shrugs. “I mean, I had a different idea, but that’s up for a discussion…” he mutters, the suggestion of his words making you roll your eyes at him, in disbelief of the fact that he still has the audacity to tease when he knows you’re clearly upset with him.

“Okay, I’m… really sorry, okay?” he says when he registers your mood, sighing to himself and running a hand through his hair. “I kinda fucked up, and I realise that. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re stupid, or anything– come on, I always cheated off you on exams, after all– so, I just- it came off wrong, is what I’m tryna say,” he concludes, looking at you hopefully, his face seemingly in tune with the words coming out of his mouth.

Humming, you shrug, not really knowing what to say. The apology settles a little in you, noting that at least he acknowledged that he fucked up, and so you pick up the controller again and avert your gaze from him. Seeing as his character refuses to move, you look at him from the corner of your eye, raising your brows in question.

“So you forgive me?” he asks, licking his lips in nerves– the action making your eyes travel down to the plump rosiness, involuntarily following his action. His glistening mouth has your gaze wandering around his body, eyes focusing on things you’ve been purposefully ignoring the whole day– the way his forearms show off in his short-sleeved shirt, the way his hair is parted in a way that shows his forehead in the most strangely attractive ways, and also the ever-so casual demeanor of the male. Chuckling to yourself, you shrug, taunting him.

“I dunno,” you mumble, “how can you make it up to me?”

And again, Chenle gets the hint– he’s not stupid, after all. 

Slowly lounging himself towards you, making you drop the controller to his sheets, you close your eyes in expectancy of his touch, already so used to the rhythm of his lips against yours. His hand holds your jaw in place, firm kisses pressed to your yearning mouth, you try to remember the way his touch feels– just in case you have to give it up soon again– a selfish action of your body as you thread your fingers through his hair. 

Lips ghosting over yours, he snickers against them as he speaks. “You taste of blood,” he notes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking matters into your own hands as you lock yourself to him again, pressing shaky, hurried kisses to his lips. 

He finds a better place to attach them to, though, as he gently pushes you towards his mattress into a lying position, traveling towards your jaw and your neck. His touch never stays long enough to leave a mark– at least not in places visible for everyone to see, saving you a lot of explaining to your parents and your friends– but the kisses still leave you breathless and yearning for more, hands traveling down his back and humming in pleasure.

“Missed this,” he speaks against your skin, breathless, “so much.”

“Missed my body or me?” you ask, a hint of bitterness on your tongue.

“A bit of both,” he smirks, gently sucking on the skin of your collarbone, leaving you to squirm under the feathery touch. Hands traveling up under your shirt, his fingers trailing across your belly and the curve of your hip, you’re left shivering under the contrast of the heated atmosphere and his stone-cold hands, giggling when he presses an unusually sweet kiss to your cheek in between the more risky ones.

“And which one did you miss more?” you tease, locking eyes with him as he hovers over your body, plopped up by an arm on either side of your head.

His eyes glimmer as he stares you down, cocking his head to the side. “I miss when you didn’t talk,” he says, leaning down again and taking your breath away with a kiss, a displeased grunt meeting his lips as you disapprove of his snarky comment.

In the sheer second where you two break away for air, his hands undress your top, leaving you under him just in your underwear, a position you two have found yourselves in a number of times before. Still, it leaves you shy away under his hungry eyes, only relaxing again when his raven locks tickle the underside of your jaw, lips attaching to every inch of your now exposed body, not afraid of bruising the skin you always keep covered, out of everyone’s eyes. Sometimes, you yearn for him to plant a lovebite to your jaw, to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, wanting to show them off to everyone and claim the boy as yours– you know you don’t have that power, though, when Zhong Chenle will never be yours and the bruises of desire are always hidden away from everyone, like a dirty little secret; much like what you two have going on in the first place anyway.

“You know,” he mutters against your skin, in between the kisses that have now grown lazier, “I was starting to get a little crazy when you ignored me. That was a first,” he says.

Snickering, hands once again finding their place in his locks, you shrug. “Was the first time you deserved it.”

“Does my opinion really matter to you that much?” he asks, chuckling as he presses another kiss to your skin, to a place a few inches below your collarbone.

“We’ve been friends forever,” you say, “‘course it does.”

“Well, then you should’ve known that as your friend,” he huffs, lips pressed against your skin, “‘m not looking down on you.”

Humming, you let him work his magic as his lazy kisses inch closer to the fabric of your bra, his other hand playing with the fabric of it, twirling the little bow in between your breasts in his fingers as he leans on one of his plopped-up hands, looking at you from the side. 

“Guess I was just more curious about what you wanted to do after school, y’know,” you say, the conversation flowing despite his hands all over you, “before you called me a nepo baby, of course.”

He chuckles at your remark, rolling his eyes at you as his finger trails up your side, your skin growing goosebumps under his touch. “Dunno yet. Why do you care?”

“Wanted to see how far we’re gonna be,” you say, the moment suddenly growing more intimate. The relationship you two have was never inclusive– you two had sex sometimes, sure, but you never once told each other this was more than that. You two were just mere fuck buddies, childhood friends that found sexual attraction in each other somewhere along the way, and while that was enough for you for a while, you found yourself growing anxious of the fact that he was never going to be fully yours. And with the growing anxiety– the smallest remainder of your worries that overtake you in the middle of the night sometimes– your throat closes up on itself when you choke out the next words. “Wanted to see how much time we have left together.”

His hand settles on your hip, his eyes bearing into yours with a newly found heaviness in them. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips in nerves before speaking up. “Well, I’ll always be your neighbor, so you can find me when you come back. Unless we move, y’know…” he jokes, an airy laugh coming out his lungs that doesn’t meet the expected intention of easing the situation.

You chuckle– but there’s not a hint of lightheartedness in the gesture, quite the opposite, really– as you avert your gaze from him, your head lollying to the side when you try to hide your slowly, but surely growing red eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

The hand on your hip squeezes the skin under it, his figure now fully hovering over you again, eyes desperately wanting to meet yours. A finger gently pressed to your chin makes you turn your head back forward, his worried gaze bearing into you, and for a moment, you two only stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in time. 

And again, Zhong Chenle isn’t stupid. 

But for a second, he acts like he is. 

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles. “You’re scaring me.”

And when you don’t give him an answer, but instead chew on the inside of your cheek– another place to bleed after you bite down too hard from the nerves crushing you from the inside– he seems to finally get the hint, an airy laugh full of disbelief meeting your ears. Having figured it out, still, he speaks it into existence– as if he needed a confirmation; 8 words tormentingly escaping from between his swollen lips.

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

Sniffling, you shut your eyes close at the question, your silence a clear answer to your childhood friend as he peels himself off you, the feeling of cold air on your exposed skin like a painful slap to reality. You stay like that for some time, mentally counting seconds, each hammer of your heart in your chest like a threat to your existence. Finally, the silence is broken by a determined, yet a little weak sentence coming out of Chenle’s mouth.

“I think you have to leave.” 

Numb, you follow the orders.

July 25, 2020 – Ning Yizhuo’s room, Shanghai, 6:11 PM

“So I was right all along?” Yizhuo snickers, eating from the bowl of almonds she has settled in the free space between her lap and her crossed legs, staring at you with the hydrating sheet mask on her face. You heave out a sigh at her comment, rolling your eyes as you fall back into her soft mattress, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s all you got from this conversation?” 

“Almost,” she mumbles, but nudges you with her foot right after, “I’m joking. I was listening, I’m just… shocked that I was actually right and that you were fucking my cousin all along.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not happening anymore, so you don’t have to be disturbed,” you grunt, wondering why you actually told the girl in the first place, regretting the decision perhaps the most right now. Yes, she did bug you for the last few weeks about the reasoning behind your attitude, and the fact that you refused all the invitations to hang out with your friends in fear of seeing Chenle were starting to get a bit suspicious, so you figured you can’t hide it anymore and that Yizhuo was bound to find out either way sooner or later. And still, you think you needed a bit of girl advice too.

“‘m not disturbed,” she mumbles, voice suddenly considerate, “I just- the whole situation is all kinds of weird and fucked up right now.”

“Tell me about it,” you chuckle, the bitter taste on your tongue never leaving despite trying to drown your sorrow down in sweets. “I fucked it up, Yizhuo.”

“Now, that’s just not true,” she sighs, putting the bowl of almonds to her coffee table and laying next to you, reaching for your hand and swinging it around in failed acts of encouragement and affection. “It’s not your fault he freaked out and made it weird.”

“I made it weird!” you mourn, breaking away from her grasp and dragging your hands through your hair in frustration, the feelings bundling in your stomach making you feel like acid is just bound to shoot out of the crevices of your insides, throwing up from the stress and despair. “I’m moving across the world the next month and I won’t see any of you for a long time, since Jun is moving to Korea and you’re gonna work in your parent’s company as well as going to uni here, and instead of spending the last moments of summer break together, I fucked it up and made everything weird and awkward just because I had to fall in love with my childhood best friend. While we’d been fucking. Isn’t that fucking great?” you huff, closing your eyes shut with the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at your own words falling from between your lips.

“We are spending time together right now, though,” Yizhuo tries to cheer you up, her pout heard in her tone.

“There are millions of different ways you’d love to spend your time with me instead of moping because of your cousin,” you note, sighing, “and I don’t even fucking know what he’s gonna do after summer break, and now, I won’t get to know.”

Yizhuo grows quiet next to you, suggesting the thickening atmosphere. Turning on your side to see your friend with her eyes glued to your figure, you chew on the inside of your cheek. She sighs, preparing herself for the mental tangent she’s gonna bring you on, and reaches over to smooth down your messy hair. 

“You know, Chenle never really liked… this life,” she says, shrugging, “he hates shopping, he hates hearing about investing, he hated traveling so much when you and your family didn’t tag along… At every family reunion, he just hid away in his room and never got out, because he found the whole situation snobby and fake and all those adjectives I’ve never really thought about calling my own relatives. He… he…” she licks her lips, trying to come up with the right words to say, “he sees the world around us with different eyes, and I don’t think he’s happy with it. So don’t- don’t be mad at him for not really… going anywhere with it, okay?” 

Furrowing your brows at her, you shake your head in confusion. This is perhaps the first time you really realized Chenle’s view on things– it’s not like you haven’t heard his annoyed rants about all the prestige and over-the-top lifestyle you all have, but that’s all you thought it was. Annoyance– because at the end of the day, your life is comfortable. You wouldn’t want it any other way. If money moves the world around, you were the one walking through every hallway, all opportunities opened up in front of your eyes; and you don’t think you’d enjoy your life more if you had a bit less money. Chenle, on the other hand, seems to be quite the opposite. His joy is not determined by money, and for the first time in your life, it seems like you’re getting what he’s been talking about your whole life, the words you heard but never truly listened to. It was right in front of you the whole time, but you never saw it, and now that your eyes have been opened, you find it hard to deal with the revelation.

“But what is he going to do?” you gurgle out, confused. 

“I don’t think he knows either,” Yizhuo shrugs, “he’s… figuring out things, I suppose.”

Chuckling, you shut your eyes in despair, thinking for a bit, but still failing to grasp the situation. “I don’t get it. He- he could have everything, but he’s just… throwing everything away? He could move across the world, he could start his own company, he could buy a house or work or study, but he just won’t,” you ramble, “I don’t get it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Yizhuo shrugs, “but he sees it a different way.”

Laying flat on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling, your friend clears her throat and awkwardly shuffles around her sheets. “And at the end of the day, even though you’ve been friends for forever, I think you’re just in love with the version of him that you’ve created in your head. The version that you’re trying, but cannot fix,” she notes, pausing for a moment before proceeding,  “the only person you can fix is yourself.”

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right. Maybe you fell in love with the Chenle in his sports car, Chenle in the golf cart with his designer clothes on, Chenle on the cruise ship sipping on expensive alcohol. Maybe you fell in love with the version that has the whole world in the palm of his hand, the version of him that goes to Yale with you and rents out a luxurious apartment in the middle of the city, kissing you behind the tall windows, watching over the busy streets– the version in your dreams, the version you wanted to achieve.

But what about the version of him that walked you to your house after tennis class? What about the version of him that cuddled you in his sheets, the version of him that fell asleep soundly when you played with his hair, cradled your fingers through his scalp? What about the version of him that scared you in the dark, because he knew you get creeped out too easily, the version of him that ate cheap sausage with you in Japan, the version of him that studied with you and brought you to your bed when you fell asleep at the table? What about the version of him that cried to Disney movies with you, the version of him that danced with you to the tunes of One Direction in your room when you were sixteen, the version of him that threw rocks on your window in the moonlight the night you turned seventeen, wanting to be the first one to wish you happy birthday before slipping inside of your room in the middle of the night, only to fall asleep seconds later, huddling your sheets?

Did you make that up? Was that not him in the first place?

And maybe, there is a discrepancy between the dream you’ve made up in your head with him, the idea of you two staying together, trying to fix the view he has on the world you two live in, but at the end of the day, none of it was a lie. 

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right; you should change the way you view things to match Chenle’s better, because at the end of the day, maybe you’re the one too blinded by the gold and silver around your neck to see the real issue here.

August 2, 2020 – Lehai Villas, Baicheng, China, 10:15 PM

When you finally see Zhong Chenle after the night he kicked you out of his bedroom, both of you are a mess. 

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense. Your dress is neat, the jewelry on your neck was carefully picked out days before, the heels enveloping your feet are one of the most comfortable ones for you to walk in, since you prepared yourself for being on your feet the whole evening. Your makeup is fixed on your face, earrings dangling off your ears and your purse matches the outfit perfectly; your hair in a fancy updo that you even drove to a hairdresser for, all so that you could look flawless for another one of your parent’s gatherings. Their business partner’s son is turning 21, and while it doesn’t look like that big of a deal, they are celebrating the fact that Mark Lee is now one of the shareholders of their company– and in your world, this is the most moving moment of the child’s life.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense– you keep looking around, restless, not really paying attention to anything anyone is saying. Aimlessly humming and picking at the skin of your cuticles, you try hard to both catch a glance of your friend, and to also avoid him at all costs. The reality that Zhong Chenle is a mess too hits you only when you finally see him– his tie loose on his neck, a grunt escaping his throat that you can hear from all the way to where you are, his walking a little wobbly and his hair messy as he runs his hand through the sprayed-down locks, his composure disheveled and so obviously out of the place.

And you want to stay away, you really do– to let him deal with his own things by himself, to pretend you weren’t cautiously looking for him all evening– but when he picks up another glass of alcohol from one of the tables and downs it in one go, cheeks getting rosier by the minute, you wonder how far you can let him go until he gets into trouble with his parents; and suddenly, you’re on your feet, just like you expected, dragging your figure closer to the one you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough?” you mumble when you appear behind him, his shoulders slouching at the tone of your voice. When he looks around and catches your eyes, he snickers to himself, shrugging, before he makes a face full of disgust at your remark.

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” he says, “Mark Lee’s a big man now, taking all the responsibility for a company that’s so great, and he loves the job so much,” he continues, over-exaggerating every word, “and we’re here to celebrate his birthday! Have you… seen the motherfucker anywhere, by the way? Would wanna congratulate him on… the thing…” he trails off, dramatically scratching his head as he speaks the last words.

“Chenle–”

“Right! We are celebrating a guy we don’t even know, or seen the whole evening, but that’s so great, because at least we have all this alcohol–”

“Okay, you’re getting out of here,” you snap, shaking your head at his antics and digging your nails into his forearm, dragging the boy out of the crowded place before he throws a tantrum. With how his voice was getting louder and louder, a few figures turned to watch your exchange, and you can’t imagine the turmoil this will take on him once his parents find out– it’s better to get him out of there before he messes up even more badly.

His feet stumbling on the stairs outside, he mutters something under his breath as you drag his half-limp, half-stubborn body through the enormous land. The gardens are full of fairy lights and adults talking to each other in hushed whispers, laughter erupting out of their put-together figures every now and then, and you take some time before you finally manage to find a silent corner in one of the carefully mowed gardens, Chenle’s complains silencing after a while, admitting his fate.

Carelessly throwing his body towards one of the benches, the lighting dim in the corner, you watch as he takes a seat and looks at you with defeated eyes, the emptiness behind his gaze breaking you on so many levels you didn’t even think you could master; Zhong Chenle is a mess– has been a mess for a while now, and you didn’t notice– you didn’t do anything about it until now.

“What happened to you?!” you yelp out, voice betraying you somewhere towards the end of the sentence, sounding more desperate than you intended. Eyes scanning over his slouching body, you notice him playing with his fingers in his lap, an action of calming himself down that he’s picked up after you slapped his hands every time he tried to bite on his nails growing up, and you take a few steps around the place, running your fingers through your carefully styled hair. 

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” Chenle grunts, rolling his eyes at your composure.

“No, Chenle, because I don’t get it,” you shake your head, looking him dead in the sparkless eyes, “I do not get it.”

When he offers you no explanation, rather just gazing your whole body up and down, eyes half-lidded, you presume he’s a bit out of it– the alcohol truly hitting his system now, making you result in a little tangent of yourself, because you presume everything’s better than his parent’s scolding, and maybe he just needs someone to wake him back to reality. “What happened, Chenle? What the actual fuck is going on lately? You don’t speak to anyone about it, you don’t tell me, out of all people–” a snicker leaves his lips to this, making you huff in frustration, “you don’t tell anyone how you’re feeling, and it’s eating you up from the inside, and believe me when I say, Chenle, it’s pretty damn heartbreaking to watch.”

Looking at him, you’re offered nothing but silence. His cheeks are rosy and puffed up from the alcohol, his frame is small– opposed to the power stance he usually takes– and you don’t think you’re getting a conversation from him any time soon. Ready to give up, you shake your head at him and scoff. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to talk to me, since you have an issue with the fact that I care about you more than I should,” you snap, agreeing to be petty with him, if this was how he was gonna play.

“I don’t talk to any of you, because you wouldn’t understand,” he says, voice almost a bit annoyed, tongue dipped in bitterness. 

“We grew up together, Chenle. Our lives are pretty much the same, why the fuck would you think that I, out of all people, wouldn’t understand?” 

“See, that’s the thing,” Chenle catches you off guard, charming in with an argument barely before you are able to finish the sentence, “our lives are pretty much the same, yet you love it. You fucking love it, all of you do– you love waking up in your little fancy bedrooms, doing great at school because if you don’t, your parents are going to threaten you with disowning you– and what else do you have if not your parents wealth that you coincidentally, also despise at the same time? You go shopping to your favorite mall with your equally wealthy friends, because you’re not allowed to befriend people that are lower class– that would just look fucking embarrassing in front of your parents’ contacts, wouldn’t it? You go to charity events and birthday celebrations of a guy you’ve never seen in your whole life before, just because someone told you to– and don’t you dare tell them you won’t go, because how the fuck are they gonna look all pretty in front of their business partners if their only son doesn’t attend a celebration of someone inheriting a share from their parents’ company– a thing you’re supposed to do as soon as you turn 20, if you don’t attend university they picked out for you instead. You go on fancy holidays and take pictures in front of all the attractions, and it doesn’t even feel special anymore, because you do this every month– and the only time you ever felt alive was when you were drunk and making out with someone that you shouldn’t even think about in that way in the first place, because it’s your parents’ friends’ daughter, and at the end of the day, they would just love the fact that we were together, because that could strengthen the business bond they have– the only reason why they’re friends in the first place, and I’m so fed up, I hate it, I despise it–” he stops to take a breath, his eyes getting glossy,

and suddenly, you’re helpless, you’re falling apart– because the issue is so much bigger than you anticipated and you don’t know how to do anything about it.

“And I don’t fucking feel real, Y/N, I don’t, and I don’t think I ever have, because I just wake up in the mornings and then somewhere along the way, I realise I’m alive and I laugh, because how could all of this be real? How could the money be real? How could anything be real, and– and it’s so confusing, because I should be grateful, but I’m not, because I can’t even fully grasp it,” he breathes, tears now streaking down his cheeks.

It feels like the whole world stopped for a moment; it feels like you are in a movie and someone pressed pause. You stare at him, you blink, and you pray for something to send you strength to deal with this, to tell you what to do or how to comfort him– because this must have felt so alone, and you can’t stand the image of Chenle ever being lonely.

Opening your mouth and closing it, you gasp for air. No words feel suitable for this kind of conversation, and so you just chime towards him– despite all your best assumptions– and hold him. Because at the end of the day, what helps more to ground someone back to earth than human touch?

Pads of your thumbs wipe at the teardrops strolling down his cheeks, every contact with the salty liquid hurting you, cutting through your skin like razor blades– because Chenle never cries, he never feels like something is worth indulging in enough to bring him to tears– and when he catches his trembling bottom lip in his teeth, you break; pulling him towards you and threading your fingers through his hair, the action once lullying him to sleep now used like a broken mantra– please be okay, please relax, please let me hold you until you’re glued back together again.

“I dunno what to do,” he shrugs, his head resting on your stomach, voice burrowing itself into the fabric of your expensive dress, “dunno where to go. ‘Cause Jun’s leaving, and Yizhuo’s gonna be busy with everything, and– and you’re moving across the fucking ocean, and I’m just– I turned everything down, because–” he says, voice breaking, and you shush him with a pat on his back, touch growing more affectionate.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I got you,” you say; words he once told you at the golf cart, looking after you, or in the hotel room back in Japan when you were 6 and falling asleep, still scared of ghosts appearing in your bedroom– and you believed them, you always did, because Chenle was always there when you needed him– so you only pray he finds comfort in the sincere phrases, because what more is there to offer him?

His breathing grows steadier as you continue to play with his messy hair, his hands gently allowing themselves to wrap around your thighs, your standing figure shelved between his legs, and he laughs to himself, the whole situation kind of ironic to him now. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. ‘m kinda numb, you know, so it doesn’t even really hurt in the first place,” he says, and you wish you found the same humor in it than he did– or at least the bitter sense of soothing yourself with irony– but you can’t. Looking down at his body, latched to you like a lifeline, you wonder how you could ever leave him there alone, to deal with the burden by himself. How could you ever move so far away from him?

“My parents wanted me to go with you,” he starts, the sentence sparking up something inside of you, but he doesn’t pull away and meet your eyes when he continues, foreshadowing a sad ending to your hope, “they said I should study business at Yale as well, that it’s a great opportunity.”

You don’t reply to him, choosing not to push him. After a sigh, he continues. “And I didn’t get in, because, naturally, I was too stupid for it in the first place– no, I was–” he says when you gently slap the back of his head at the comment, “but then they paid the dean and suddenly I was allowed to go. Can you believe that?” he snickers bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bad mouthed you for a thing I despised in myself, when you were the one that got in fair and square in the first place.”

“‘s okay,” you mumble, compassion dripping off your words.

“And I turned it down, ‘cause I hated the fact that they did that. I was okay with studying the fucking business program, even though I despised it, I was okay with moving across the world, because at least you’d be there, y’know, but I couldn’t bear the fact that they did that to get me in. I think I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, because they had to pay for me to get there, but– I don’t know…” he trails off, and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s okay to take opportunities that are presented to you, Lele,” you mumble, “I know you hate it, but you can’t change who you’re born to. The best you could do is to not waste all of this,” you say, trying to find a source of light in the deep abyss of his thoughts.

You try hard to solve the problem– to offer him a solution that could work, that could let him forget about the pain for at least a second– to wake him up from whatever deep thinking that got him into this mess. You try hard to solve the problem– but you don’t know how to deal with it. All you know is that you’re trying to pick up the patterns; you’d fit in his skin if you could, you’d crawl in and fix everything– but at the end of the day, as Yizhuo said, the only person you can fix is yourself.

“Bought,” he says, fixing your mistake, “opportunities that were bought for me. I couldn’t do it,” he says.

Huffing, indulging in a spare second of your own pain– a spare second of the despair eating you up from the insides, the helplessness you’ve been feeling ever since you were forcefully kicked out of Zhong Chenle’s life– and you didn’t even tell him you loved him in the first place before he got stuck in the fire of the woods; before you two started acting like it didn’t matter and always ended up in feuds– you mumble a comment, voice barely louder than a whisper, but he can hear it because of the closeness of your bodies in the few stray raindrops that come over you two once the clock strikes midnight.

“We could’ve lived together, you and me,” you say, “us against the whole world,” you comment– a childlike yearning spilling out of your lips, “we could’ve gone to Yale together and you’d figure something out along the way. Maybe– maybe you’d find a purpose if you moved, we could–”

“Y/N,” he shushes you, uttering out your name, finally breaking away from you as he looks up and gazes into the swimming pools of your eyes, shaking his head with a faint smile, “‘s okay. It wouldn’t have fixed anything anyway, it– it wouldn’t have helped.”

“But–”

“You can move, Y/N, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re taking yourself with you.”

August 20, 2020 – the backyard of your childhood house, Shanghai, 11:11 PM

You were never really that good at science– sure, your parents demanded you get good grades in every subject and your private school put quite the pressure on your education, but even though you always managed to pull satisfactory marks in exams, your understanding of the logistics sometimes lacked; you were much better at humanities or business-related courses, hearing enough at family dinners to find out your way through the lectures and apply the facts into examples from real life.

So, if anyone asked you how many stars there were in the universe, you wouldn’t be too confident in your answer. You wouldn’t know how to apply the Milky Way as your model– since it was said that it has around 100 billion stars alone– and multiply the part by the amount of galaxies in the universe– approximately 2 trillion– to get a number somewhere close to 200 billion trillion, also called 200 sextillion. 

You wouldn’t know how to do any of that, or how to even count this amount without a calculator, so you’d take a more liberal arts approach– literary, even– and say, that on August 20, 2020, at 11:11 sharp in your backyard, gazing on to the deep, dark sky and wishing for a star to fall so you could propose a selfish wish that could change everything, there’s still not more stars there than in Zhong Chenle’s eyes when your gazes meet after your friends leave for the evening, leaving you with your neighbor completely alone.

And it’s strange, seeing him like this– maybe because you didn’t even realize how used to the dull and emotionless Chenle you’ve been all this time– but it warms something inside of your heart as you take a hesitant step towards him, the first one out of the whole evening, and take a seat next to him in the corner of your terrace, sighing to yourself.

“You actually came,” you note, seeing as he turns to you and furrows his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Should I not have? I mean, by the text you sent me, it seemed like you wanted me here, but if I misread the situation, I can go…” he snickers, teasing you just the slightest as he nudges you to your side.

You hum, shaking your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “I just… I dunno.”

“Expected me to ignore you?” 

“Kinda,” you admit, snickering.

“Damn,” he giggles, “that’s fair, though. Considering the previous events, and all.”

Rolling your eyes at his composure, finally getting used to the old Chenle– the one that teases you over the smallest things, the one who doesn’t let his emotions show in his face– you watch him as he takes a seat on one of the rattan sofas and you follow him, body slouching next to his, feeling his head gently rest on your shoulder in the mere moment of silence between your two figures.

“Wouldn’t let you leave without seeing you for the last time,” he says, voice quiet and vulnerable, “god knows when I’ll see you again.”

“Chenle–”

“Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” he snickers, already knowing where your words are going– you’re going to try to stop him, tell him you don’t want to think about it right now, on the last evening at your house for the near future. 

“I’d rather not think about that, y’know,” you huff, frustrated. The anxieties of leaving everything behind are clenching on your insides right now, holding you back from moving freely and with enthusiasm, and you wonder– if you knew how this would feel all those months ago– if you knew how terrifying and painful the whole process could be, would you still apply to Yale? Would you still want to go?

“Okay,” he dotes, tone of voice casual, like it’s not a big deal. 

“Okay? Just like that?” you snicker, surprised at how easily he gave the topic up.

“Yeah. Don’t wanna make you sadder.”

Sitting in silence, you realize there’s so many words you’d like to say to him. You’d like to tell him just how much you’re gonna miss him and how you regret ruining the last few months you two had together, and how you’re sorry your feelings scared him to the point where he felt like he had no one to confide in. You’d like to tell him how you built a future with him in your brain, carefully placed him into your reality, only for him to break away from your grasp and go his own way, and how much it hurts, but how you’re always going to support him in whatever he chooses, because you care for him more than your little heart could take. You’d like to tell him how you’re gonna call him every day to check up on him, how you’re gonna send letters and press a secret kiss to each sheet of expensive paper you’ll get downtown, wishing he could feel the essence with the growing distance between you two. You’d like to ask him to visit you often– he’s gonna have more time on his hands, and god knows money’s not the issue. You’d like to selfishly tell him you find it hard to deal with the distance, and how you wish he wouldn’t find somebody else while you’re gone, and how you so dearly hope that somewhere in there, your feelings are silently reciprocated, but hidden away in fear of everything falling apart once again.

But instead, you don’t say anything. You tend to wait for him to speak up first– he’s always had a problem with talking too much in the first place, after all.

And he does– you can still predict his next moves. You know him that well.

“I’m gonna miss you, though,” he sighs, catching you off guard by saying something from the list of your silenced words, “don’t think that I won’t. Or that the way I’ll miss you is different than the way you’re gonna miss me,” he speaks, tone of voice laced in honesty and sincerity, his words heavy with the essence of what he’s never going to say out loud– or so you think.

“In what way?”

“I’m not gonna miss you like a friend misses a friend,” he says, “and I don’t mean the sex,” he snickers, brightening the mood with his comment.

Rolling his eyes at him, you feel him lift his head up from your shoulder, forcing you to look at him and meet his starry eyes again– the damn starry eyes that always make you spill the truth, because god knows you cannot lie to him– and you find yourself scanning his features, the structure of his bones you fear you’re gonna forget when you’re away, so desperately wanting to lock your lips with his for one last time, because when you come back one day, you may not have the right or chance to do so anymore. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“You know why, Chenle.”

“Can you say it out loud?” he demands, and you shake your head– maybe it's best if the words are left unsaid. Doesn’t matter if they’re hanging in the air, for everyone to read.

“Why?”

“You know how I feel about you,” you snicker, “don’t make me say it out loud.”

Because even if you told him you loved him, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it all better, it wouldn’t make it all good– no matter how hard you wish that it would. 

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing too fast again– and with that, he smiles, the gesture so soft and sudden, and there you are– you’ve got a caving heart in your open arms, and Chenle takes it, carelessly choking out the hushed confession, “I’m in love with you. If you don’t say it, I’m gonna, because… you deserve to know.”

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watch him, frozen in your place, for a while. Your eyes carefully scan every curve of his face– the curve of his lips, the curve of his cheeks, the hood of his eyes, his brows, the thousand stolen galaxies in his orbs and mouth glistening like honey, inviting you in. Snickering under your breath, you choose to not give in to the temptation.

“You’re only saying that because I’m leaving tomorrow,” you say, shaking your head. 

“Maybe,” he agrees.

And you know that– you know that if you weren’t leaving, he wouldn’t tell you that he loves you. He wouldn’t allow himself to be this vulnerable, he wouldn’t tell you how he feels about you, because he had all this time– all those months and weeks spent with you in his bed, and you know his touches weren’t just shallow desire– and he never once said anything. He didn’t do anything about it, and now that there is nothing more to do about it, nothing that could change the trajectory of either of your lives, he chooses to speak it to the universe; because it doesn’t change anything, it can’t possibly do so– and so he doesn’t have to fear the consequences, he doesn’t have to fear the attachment that comes with such confession.

And for a minute, you think it’s selfish. You think it’s laughable, ironic, even, but you accept it. 

His hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers with his when he launches you forward into him, arms gently enveloping your body when your head settles itself to the curve of his shoulder. You stay like this for a while, in his hold again, breathing in his scent and trying to remember it for weeks and months before you’re able to smell it again, letting out a nosy question out of your lips– and truly, you don’t know why you do so, when you know the answer to it already anyway. Maybe you just want to hear it again.

“So… you do have feelings for me too, after all?”

He stays quiet for a while, before he softly laughs into your hair. “Yeah,” he nods, “but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re leaving for Yale tomorrow, aren’t you?”

And he’s right– you are. Thinking for a while, feeling him place a shy peck to the crown of your head– the only kiss you two allow yourselves at this point of time– you come to the conclusion that  even though you love him, care for him like you’ve never cared for another before, you wouldn’t change a thing about your plan– wouldn’t change the trajectory of your whole life, wouldn't stay in Shanghai, wouldn’t drop out of university, wouldn’t stop everything because of him, because in a way, you strangely have it all figured out. 

And he doesn’t.

And you pray that one day, he’ll find the purpose in all the potential he holds in his hands.

[tosomeonessomeone]

your smile.

words・ 2.9k /pairings・ Bang Chan x reader / genres・ fluff / warnings・ none

Karaoke ver.

As the night progressed and the karaoke session entered its peak, Chan's energy seemed to escalate. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he scrolled through the song list until he found it—Bruno Mars's signature tune, "Just the Way You Are."

A grin spread across Chan's face as he looked over at you, excitement dancing in his gaze. "Hey, guess what I'm going to sing next?"

You chuckled, already anticipating the song choice. "Let me guess, 'Just the Way You Are' by Bruno Mars?"

Chan's grin widened as he nodded enthusiastically. "You got it! It's my signature song, after all."

As the familiar melody filled the room, Chan's voice resonated with passion and emotion, capturing the essence of the heartfelt lyrics. With each note, his voice soared, carrying the sincerity and warmth of the song's message.

As Chan sang each part of the song, his eyes remained fixed on you, his voice carrying the weight of every heartfelt word.

"Her eyes, her eyes," he crooned, his gaze softening as he emphasized each syllable, "Make the stars look like they're not shinin'."

With each line, Chan's voice echoed with sincerity, his gaze never wavering as he continued, "Her hair, her hair, Falls perfectly without her tryin'."

As he sang his eyes seemed to convey a depth of emotion that resonated with the lyrics. "She's so beautiful, and I tell her every day," he sang, his voice filled with tenderness and affection.

But it was in the chorus that his gaze held the most intensity, as if every word was a silent declaration meant just for you. "When I see your face, There's not a thing that I would change," he sang, his eyes locked on yours, "Cause you're amazing, Just the way you are."

With a grateful smile and a nod of appreciation to the neon lights that had inadvertently concealed your blush, you leaned back, savoring the precious moments of your friendship with him.

As the final strains of the song melted into the air, Chan's gaze lingered, his eyes filled with an intensity that seemed to transcend the music. The room fell silent, as Chan hesitated, a flicker of emotion crossing his features.

Unable to contain the feelings that surged within him, Chan took a deep breath, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I... I couldn't hold it anymore," he admitted, his words carrying a weight of vulnerability.

With a tremor in his voice, Chan continued, his eyes never wavering from yours. "I know we've been through so much together, and... and I just need to say..." His words trailed off, lost in the intensity of the moment.

A swell of emotion rose within you, your heart pounding with anticipation. In the hush of the room, you could feel the weight of Chan's words hanging in the air, poised on the precipice of revelation.

And then, in a moment of clarity and courage, Chan spoke from the depths of his heart. "I care about you more than words can say. You mean everything to me, and I just needed you to know… I adore you"

In the intimate confines of the karaoke room, with the neon lights casting a soft glow around you, Chan's confession hung in the air like a delicate melody waiting to be embraced. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of vulnerability and truth.

The tension between you intensified, the air crackling with unspoken emotion. And then, as if guided by an invisible force, you rose from your seat, drawn inexorably closer to him.

With each step, your heart pounded in your chest, the rhythm of anticipation matching the tempo of your shared desire. As you closed the distance between you, Chan's words faded into the background, replaced by the magnetic pull of your connection.

Gently, almost instinctively, you reached out, cupping Chan's face in your trembling hands. His gaze met yours, a flicker of vulnerability dancing in the depths of his eyes, mirroring the emotions that swirled within your own soul.

And then, without hesitation, you closed the remaining space between you, pressing your lips to his in a tender, passionate kiss. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the intoxicating sweetness of your shared embrace.

As your lips met, a surge of electricity coursed through your veins, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity you had never known. Chan responded in kind, his arms encircling you, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you.

In that timeless moment, the karaoke room faded into oblivion, its neon lights dimming in comparison to the brilliance of your love. The microphone slipped from Chan's grasp, forgotten amidst the overwhelming tide of emotion that consumed you.

Leaning back, breathless from the intensity of the moment, you whispered softly, "I adore you too," your words carrying the weight of sincerity and affection. With a tender smile, you closed the distance between you once more, sealing your declaration with another sweet kiss.

In that fleeting exchange, the depth of your emotions echoed in the gentle brush of your lips, a silent promise of devotion. It was a moment suspended in time, a testament to the bond that had blossomed between you and Chan, transcending words and defying explanation.

As you lingered in each other's embrace, the world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of your shared affection to light the way forward.

His bedroom ver.

As Chan leaned back against a pile of pillows, he glanced at the ceiling, lost in thought. "So, what's been going on with you lately?"

You shrugged, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Oh, you know, the usual. Work, trying to find some time to relax in between."

He nodded, understandingly. "Yeah, it's been pretty hectic with the group too. We've got that comeback showcase next week, and then we're off to Japan for a mini-tour."

"That sounds intense," you remarked, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. "But exciting, too. I can't wait to see how everything turns out."

Chan grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, it's definitely going to be an adventure. By the way, have you heard about the new song we've been working on? It's going to blow everyone away."

You chuckled. "You say that about every song you guys make, but somehow, you always manage to deliver."

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, you gotta have confidence, right?"

"Absolutely," you agreed, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Confidence is key."

"So, any exciting plans for after the tour?" you asked, breaking the silence.

Chan stretched his arms out above his head, considering your question. "Not really sure yet. Probably just some downtime with the members, catching up on sleep, maybe binge-watching a few shows."

"That sounds like a perfect way to recharge," you said, nodding in agreement. "You guys definitely deserve it after all the hard work."

He smiled gratefully. "Thanks. What about you? Any fun activities or trips planned?"

You shook your head. "Not really. Just hoping to catch up on some reading and maybe take a short trip to the countryside for some fresh air."

"That sounds nice," Chan said, his eyes brightening with enthusiasm. "Sometimes, the simplest things can be the most refreshing."

You smiled, appreciating his outlook on life. "Definitely. It's all about finding those little moments of peace and contentment."

As the conversation continued to flow effortlessly between the two of you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Chan's friendship and the moments of calmness he brought into your life, even amidst the chaos of his own.

The comfortable silence enveloped you both, punctuated only by the soft tapping of fingers on screens as you scrolled through your phones. It was a familiar scene, one you had shared many times before.

You couldn't help but notice the peacefulness of the moment, contrasting with the lively chaos that often surrounded Chan and his fellow members. 

You glanced over at Chan, his brow furrowed in concentration as he navigated through messages and notifications. 

Despite the tranquility of the moment, you knew that silence wasn't something he often experienced, especially with his energetic bandmates always around.

As the minutes passed, the silence remained unbroken, yet the connection between you and Chan only grew stronger, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you shared. 

And in that moment, surrounded by stillness, you felt grateful for the simple pleasure of each other's company.

You chuckled as you scrolled through TikTok, watching people confessing their feelings to each other in creative ways. Turning to Chan, you posed a playful question, "Hey, if you were to confess to someone, would you do it by singing a song?"

Chan looked up from his phone, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hmm, that's an interesting idea. I suppose it depends on the person and the situation."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his response. "Oh? So, you're saying there's a chance you might serenade someone?"

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I'm not ruling it out. Singing can be a powerful way to express your feelings, you know?"

"True," you nodded, thinking about the heartfelt emotions that music could convey. "It could definitely leave a lasting impression."

Chan grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Who knows, maybe one day you'll see me on TikTok, belting out a love song for someone special."

You chuckled, imagining Chan's smooth vocals serenading an unsuspecting recipient. "I'll keep an eye out for that, then."

As the conversation veered into playful banter, you couldn't help but appreciate Chan's lighthearted demeanor and his willingness to embrace romantic gestures, even if they involved a bit of singing.

Feeling Chan's gaze lingering on you, you tried to focus on your phone screen, scrolling through the endless stream of content. Despite the silence between you, his presence felt palpable, a gentle weight in the room.

Trying to maintain your composure, you pretended to be engrossed in whatever was on your phone, hoping to deflect any attention his way. But deep down, you couldn't help but wonder what was on his mind, what thoughts were swirling behind those piercing eyes.

The seconds ticked by, each one filled with an unspoken tension that hung in the air. You could feel the urge to look up, to meet his gaze, but something held you back, a fear of what you might find there.

In the quiet of the room, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner, a steady rhythm that underscored the awkwardness of the moment. It was as if time itself had slowed down, stretching the silence into an eternity.

Finally, unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, you mustered the courage to glance up, meeting Chan's eyes with a hesitant smile. And in that fleeting moment, you found solace in the familiarity of his gaze, a silent understanding that bridged the distance between you.

With a shared small smile, the tension dissipated, replaced by a sense of ease that washed over you like a gentle tide. And as you returned to your phone, the silence no longer felt suffocating, but comforting, a reminder of the unspoken bond that bound you and Chan together.

As you thought silence would continue, Chan's melodic voice filled the room, softly crooning the lyrics of "Just the Way You Are" by Bruno Mars, you felt a rush of warmth spread through you. His gentle rendition of the song enveloped you like a soothing embrace, drawing you in closer with each heartfelt note.

You turned to look at him, your gaze locking with his, as if caught in a spell woven by the power of music. His eyes sparkled with sincerity, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that resonated deep within your soul.

With a tender gesture, Chan reached out and delicately tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. It was a simple yet intimate gesture, one that spoke volumes without the need for words.

"And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while," Chan sang softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Cause girl, you're amazing just the way you are."

His words hung in the air, lingering like a sweet melody, as if painting a portrait of admiration and adoration. In that moment, surrounded by the gentle strains of the song.

As the final notes of the song faded into the silence, you remained locked in a wordless exchange, the air tinged with an unspoken understanding. And in Chan's eyes, you found a reflection of your own worth and beauty, a reminder that you were truly loved just the way you are.

"Wow, if you serenade your crush like that, they'll be as smitten with you as I am right now," you joked softly, a smile playing on your lips.

Chan's eyes sparkled with amusement as he replied, "Well, I'm glad I've had that effect on you."

In that moment, something shifted within you, a realization dawning like a gentle sunrise. Before you could articulate your thoughts, Chan leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender, lingering kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, leaving only the warmth of Chan's touch and the softness of his lips against yours. It was a moment suspended in time, a silent promise of something more, something deeper than words could convey.

As he pulled back, you were left breathless, your heart racing with a mixture of surprise and longing. In Chan's gaze, you saw a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you, a silent affirmation of the connection between you.

Your hand instinctively reached for Chan's cheek, his warmth against your palm grounding you in the reality of the moment. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing in a silent surrender to the emotions swirling between you.

As you drew closer, your breath mingling with his, you whispered softly, "Please, tell me this isn't a prank?"

Chan's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking with yours in a silent vow. "It's not a prank," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life."

His words hung in the air, a solemn declaration of his feelings, his intentions laid bare before you. In that fragile moment, doubt melted away, leaving only the undeniable truth of your connection.

With a gentle resolve, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting again in a tender embrace. It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent vow to explore the depths of this newfound love together.

And as you melted into each other's embrace, the world faded away, leaving only the sweet symphony of your beating hearts, a testament to the magic of love found in the most unexpected places.

Chan's arms wrapped around you, drawing you closer to his body. The world around you faded into insignificance as you melted into each other's embrace, lost in the warmth of the moment.

The softness of his lips against yours sent waves of warmth cascading through you, igniting a fire that burned brighter with each passing moment.

The forgotten phones lay untouched, a testament to the magnetic pull of your connection, drawing you closer together on the floor of his bedroom. In that intimate space, time seemed to stand still, each heartbeat echoing the rhythm of your shared passion.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you surrendered to the sweet surrender of the moment, lost in a world where only the two of you existed. And as you lay there, bodies entwined and hearts intertwined, you knew that this was just the beginning of a love story waiting to unfold.

[agi-ppangx]

the boy who turned my head (lee minho x fem!reader)

word count: 1,6k author's note: this is the last fic in 2023. thank you for your constant support, i wouldn't have done anything without any of you<3 i hope 2024 will be kind for all of us. i'll try my best to continue this wonderful tumblr journey with you by my side. i love you all<3

it all started with a song.

it was pretty late and the party had been going for a few hours. the alcohol in your veins made your brain all fuzzy and it wasn’t long before you ended up on the dancefloor, forgetting about the world around you as you swayed to yet another song blasting from the speakers. you felt happy as you threw your hands in the air, laughing loudly.

then the songs changed and everyone’s attention shifted to the boy in the middle of the crowd, grinning widely while dancing to bruno mars’ song. people cheered as the boy smoothly performed the dance steps and you did too, until he locked his eyes with yours and you stopped in your tracks. the world around you collapsed as it was only you and him left. the boy smiled at you and took your hand and, well, swept you to the middle of the dance floor. and you let him, of course you let him - he was just so charming and his smile was so mesmerising and he looked at you with the literal galaxies in his eyes and- 

“kiss her!” someone shouted from the crowd, loud enough for the boy to hear. he looked at you with a giddy smile, resting his forehead on yours. 

“may i?” he mouthed, searching for the answer in your curious eyes. you blinked a few times, thinking about it, and then without any warning leaned forward to capture the boy’s lips in a passionate, yet a bit messy kiss. you squished his cheeks with your palms, earning a little giggle that escaped his mouth right into yours. and you stayed on the dance floor long after that, your steps becoming more and more wobbly, but you knew he wouldn’t let you fall. 

“can i have your number?” he asked you in the morning as you were heading to the exit, the sun lazily creeping out from behind the horizon. your head hurt, your phone was dead and you were still drunk. 

“my number…? i, um- wait, what’s your name?” you mumbled, looking at him with glassy eyes. 

“it’s minho,” he chuckled, blushing slightly. he must’ve had a greater tolerance for alcohol, because except for his goofy aura he looked perfectly fine. 

“oh, right! so, minho, unfortunately i’m too drunk now and i forgot my number,” you started, wobbling a little on your feet. minho quickly wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you stay stable. “so maybe you should ask chan? i’m sure he has my number somewhere in his phone.” he nodded, letting out a little “ah”.

“will you get home safely?” he then asked, scanning your rather pathetically looking figure. you smiled, nodding. 

“yeah, my friend- she should be here any minute now,” you slurred, seeing the familiar car pull on the driveway. “oh, she’s here! see, i told you,” you grinned, patting his arm a few times. “see you soon, minho,” you waved at him, slowly making your way to the car, leaving the boy behind you. 

“who was that?” your friend asked curiously as she noticed your giddy smile. you looked at him one last time before she drove off and you sighed dreamily. 

“a boy who turned my head.”

. . . .

the cold wind made you shiver as you stepped out of changbin’s house. you were wearing that short blue dress that minho liked so much, but he wasn’t particularly interested in it anyway. throughout the whole party he’d acknowledged you once, only saying a vague “hi” to you. 

it’d been going like that for months. since the very beginning your relationship with minho was constantly balancing between friendship and something more. one day he was all over you, taking you on dates and holding your hand for the whole time, only for him to ghost you for the next few weeks or dismiss you with short messages. he showered you in gifts, kissing your forehead and smiling like a teenager in love, but whenever a sweet old lady in the store would call you such a cute couple, minho would immediately cut her off, saying that she’s only my friend. and it made you confused and hurt - didn’t he see how much love your eyes contained for him? didn’t he see how hard you fell for him?

“yn? where are you going?” you heard minho’s voice behind you. he placed his hand on your shoulder, stopping you before you had the chance to walk out. it was getting close to midnight - you could’ve waited to celebrate new year with everyone and then go, but you’d had too much. 

“home. i’m kind of tired,” you shrugged your shoulders, dropping your head not to make eye contact with minho. the wind blew again and you covered yourself with your arms. why didn’t you take something warmer with you? 

“oh, here,” he said, taking off his jacket and trying to put it on your shoulders, but you took a step back. It left minho dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing a few times as if he was trying to say something.

“i don’t- i don’t want your jacket,” you mumbled, your voice already breaking a little. great, you thought. “i told you i’m tired.”

“yeah, but what does it have to do with me giving you my jacket?” minho chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit. to say he was confused would be an understatement. you sighed loudly, looking around. was he really that blind?

“it’s not about the fucking jacket, minho!” you snapped, feeling defeated. your eyes started to get glassy, tears slowly forming in the corners of them. you shook your head, trying to calm yourself down. “i’m tired of you treating me like a toy,” you whispered the last word, taking in a sharp breath. “you always come to me whenever you feel lonely and then ghost me when your needs are met. but you somehow completely missed the fact that i, in fact, am a human being myself and i-” you stopped abruptly when minho stood right in front of you with a frightened expression. you looked him in the eyes and suddenly the world around you vanished, just like the day you first met. 

“do you really feel used by me?” he whispered in disbelief, his voice so quiet and weak that you almost felt bad for him. you let out a shaky breath, a single tear slowly falling down your face. 

“i- no, it's just- we do all of that cute stuff together, we cuddle and we go on our little dates and i thought it meant something to you,” you mumbled, wiping your face. you heard some noise from inside the house and you knew midnight was getting closer. “i just feel really dumb, you know? i fell for someone who doesn’t even care about me,” you chuckled dryly, taking a step back and trying to walk away, but minho was quicker. he wrapped his hand around your wrist and in a smooth motion brought you to his chest, hugging you tightly. 

“i’m so sorry, i- i was scared, i was so stupid,” he rambled, combing his fingers through your hair. you stiffed, not sure what to do next, though it was nice to feel minho’s arm cradling you again. “i was afraid i’d lose you, that you’d leave me if i got too vulnerable.” you wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing him gently as he continued. you inhaled softly his cologne and it made you cry a bit more. that’s how home smells for you. “i never wanted to make you feel this way, i’m so sorry,” he whispered another apology and you just stood there, unable to form a sentence. minho mumbled i’m sorry and please forgive me over and over into your hair like a mantra and it made you smile faintly into his chest. 

suddenly you heard people shouting inside the house and you realised that they were counting down. you thought quickly, trying to decide what to do. 10, 9, 8. you pulled away from minho’s chest slightly so you could look him in the eyes. you realised he was crying. 7, 6, 5. you cupped his cheeks, wiping the tears that had fallen. you smiled at him and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. he looked as if he tried to take as much as he could from that moment, like it was meant to be taken away from him forever when the clock strikes midnight. 4, 3, 2. you leaned forward, letting your foreheads touch and minho snapped his eyes open. he looked confused, but a smile finally appeared on his face. 1, 0, new year! minho’s lips crashed into yours, taking your breath away, but you let him, of course you let him. now it was quiet, only the two of you left on the planet as you kissed with the same lust as the first time. 

you were the first to pull away, desperately gasping for air with the biggest grin plastered on your face. minho cradled your face gently. his entire world fit in his hands. 

“let’s say it’s forgiven, not forgotten,” you whispered. “you don’t have to apologise anymore if you promise me to work on your behaviour.” minho nodded at your words, kissing you again as if he tried to seal the oath.

“now you can actually give me the jacket, i’m freezing,” you said with a giggle and he chuckled, placing the material over your shoulders and you happily inhaled his scent one more time. you were home again.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes

[thecynthh]

how about we try that one more time? M.S

synopsis - matt wouldn't stop biting his nails and y/n gotta do something about it

notes - fully matts pov, childhood best friends, just kissiing nothing too mild,

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

Matt's pov

i recently became more active on tiktok like nick requested me to be, despite not really knowing how to use the app i started to post next to daily as well as chris and nick. tiktoks of us just jamming out to songs always goes well so i started a little series showing the fans a new song from my playlist every two days while in between those i post whatever im feeling. 

today was the song locked out of heaven by bruno mars

“can i just stay here?”

“spend the rest of my days here”

“cus’ you make me feel like i’ve been locked out of heaven”

i look into my bathroom mirror singing along with the song, doing a little dance when the drums kick in again hearing the crash of the symbols. i’d admit, i thought i looked pretty good, my fit was on point that day and i was really feeling myself. 

sturnl00v3 : matty poo lookin a little too good today 

heartzplusstarz : struggling as a chris girl over here 😔

bernardluvver : living for the slutty waist !!

the whole tiktok replays again for the third time, after hearing it again y/n props herself up on her elbows and says, “god how many times are you gonna watch yourself in that tiktok??” y/n was usually this mean to me but growing up together as neighbors and knowing her all these years made me forgive her for all of it, she was there with me and my brothers throughout everything and we were all used to her “can do” attitude.

her legs were draped over my thighs and her eyes watched my phone intensively. “do you still wanna get kane’s later or do you wanna complain?” I retorted, making her drop back down onto the couch and hold her hands up. “i surrender.” 

i go back to scrolling through the comments seeing a few more. 

sturnz : damnnnn mans looking fine asf 

bluesturniolo : ANYTHING FOR U MATT !!!!

sturnontop : yalls see the outline…..

      ╰┈➤ bluesturniolo : i just know what’s behind his cargos 🤤

lessasturniolo : F ME LIKE U MAD AT ME BABYYYYY 

oh. oh. 

is that really all that they think about me? a shiver rolls through my body and my hand comes up to my mouth as i chew on my nails. a foot hits my hand out of my mouth, i give y/n the nastiest side eye while she looks at me like she didn’t do anything. 

“what the fuck was that for?” i raise my voice slightly. 

“don’t bite your nails you stupid fuck,” she says as a come back, i was unphased when she matched my tone. i ultimately just let it go and continued looking through comments. 

sturnnw0rld : girlies on tumblr gna go insane for this one matt

user92380 : id hit that. 

likelystrniolo : fuck me! please! 

despite what y/n said to me i continue to bite my nails, i didnt enjoy biting them but i couldnt help it. especially with these comments, they make me nervous and uncomfortable. with seconds of actually contemplating, my finger hovers over the delete button. 

suddenly i feel y/n’s body move and she begins to straddle me, uh oh. i stare up at her not knowing what her next move is, she rips my nails out of my mouth and connects our lips. 

i go along with her antics and reciprocate the kiss, she bites down on my bottom lip requesting access to the inside of my mouth. her hands find my arms and wraps them around her body with her arms snaking around my neck, pulling us impossibly close together. 

i put my hands on her cheeks slightly pushing her off of my mouth, our needy mouths disconnected. she gives an exasperated sigh and starts to open her mouth, “nick told me to make sure you weren’t biting your nails cus u guys had a nail appointment, that was the only way i could think about stopping you.” an innocent smile paints her face. 

“if i knew biting my nails could make you wanna kiss me i would be doing it more.” i saw when the same stupid smile bloomed on my lips as well. “so, how about we try that one more time before i start biting my nails again yeah?” 

a/n - christmas/new years present for yalls 😘

[phoxey]

„Who knew you could be so cheesy…“

Chocol x fem!reader

CW: none :) this is purest pure little fluff

AN: at the end cuz i don’t wanna spoil the oneshot

It was a cloudy November day. The Moon was barely to be seen and it was cold in the streets of Seoul.

Yet you were sweating. You stood in a small underground club, panting but grinning as heavy hiphop music blasted out the speakers. It was a smaller dance battle event but the place was crowded. In front of you the orange haired beast that was your girlfriend. But in this dancebattle she was your opponent and you weren’t going to go easy on her.

In her turn she threw every possible impressive move at you. It seemed like she really wanted to win over you. You knew that this battle wouldn’t be finished on this stage, but rather continued later in your bed in the apartment of you two. You had the deal, that whenever you two battled, the winner could control the sexy time in the evening.

Smirking you bit your lip, when she did that ground move of hers. It always made you go crazy over her and she knew it. Your girlfriend was so impressive and with every passing moment you fell in love more and more.

How can a person be so talented? So beautiful? So handsome? So gentle? So rough? So perfectly imperfect? So smart? So foolish?

She was everything at once. The whole package. And the Bonus? She was yours. Yours alone.

At the end of her turn she came to a halt before you and winked at you teasingly. Chuckling you pushed her back, by her waist. To be honest, you just wanted to feel her body in your hands for a moment. The entire day had been so hectic, so this was the first time of the day that you touched her. You felt how deprived you were. Chocol had been out with Haechi and Mini the entire day, doing god knows what.

You had a different style than Chocol, less wavy motions, less floor work. It was a hard hiphop style with krump elements sprinkled into it. And the music was yours, so that would be an easy win, you thought. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the judges nodding approvingly, but your eyes were fixed on your girlfriend. You copied her ending move and finished, standing in front if her and winking cheekily.

Chocols second turn started slowly and she had that smug grin plastered onto her face, she was planning something. You wondered what, because she had already used up all her killer moves.

A record scratch ripped you out if your thought process. Suddenly „Marry you“ by Bruno Mars was playing. Confused you looked over to the DJ, who was just grinning at you. You looked back to your girlfriend, to see if she knew what was going on. What Chocol was dancing, wasn’t a battle dance anymore. It was a Choreography.

She mixed some b-boying into her dance it seemed, as she swirled around on her knees and before you knew it, she was kneeling in front of you and was holding a black box in her hand. The music faded out. Even the crowds chatter died down. Everyone, including you, was holding their breath.

„We have been through endless battles together, on and off stage. For the past ten years you supported me through every storm and every war that i fought, especially the ones against myself. When in doubt you were always there. When we are apart i can think about nothing but the moment i will have you in my arms again. And when we fight, i am not afraid, because i know in the end it is you and me against the problem. You read me like an open book. You always know what to say and do to cheer me up. Though, if i am being honest, your mere existence makes me happy. Seeing you makes me happy. Hearing your sweet voice and laugh makes me happy. Holding and kissing you makes me happy. I want to make you happy as well… for the rest of my life i want to be the reason you smile and feel good. Please let me take care of you for the rest of my life and become my wife?“, she asked and opened the box. A simple but beautiful ring shimmered there.

The hand that had covered your mouth in shock, slowly reached for Chocol as you slowly nodded, as though you were in trance.

„Yes, oh god… yes, please.“, you whispered and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Chocol beamed happily and stood up. You jumped into her arms and quietly sobbed happy tears into her neck. Then she pulled away to slide the ring onto your finger. Gently she peppered your face in kisses.

„I love you.“, you whispered.

„I love you more.“, she whispered back.

Grinning you shook your head and pushed her playfully.

„Who knew you could be so cheesy…“

********

AN: This is how i want someone to propose to me... doesn't have to be Chocol. Doesn't have to be one of the SWF girlies... i just need a dancer gf, i suppose, so i can battle against her and have her propose to me.

[daydreamingyuta]

could I request like female idol x jaehyun idol going to a bruno mars concert in Korea together

And the song finesse comes on and you know the part that goes fellas grab ur lady if ur lady fine😭 and he does that😝

and somehow it gets dispatch finds out

Finesse | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, drabble, dispatch exposing your relationship with Jaehyun after getting caught attending a Bruno Mars concert together. wc: 809 a/n: Hi! Thank you for requesting! sorry it took so long but I had sm fun writing this because it reminded me how good Bruno Mars songs are! (Also in one part I mention that y/n is in aespa, I hope that's ok!) <3

“You make me feeell like I’ve been locked out of heaaaven for too longgg.” You and Jaehyun sing in unison, not caring a single bit if you were in key or not. 

When Jaehyun had asked you if you wanted to go to the Bruno Mars concert with him, you couldn’t say ‘yes’ fast enough. Countless dates with Jaehyun have ended in the car singing his songs at the top of your lungs with the windows down, the wind not even close to drowning out your passionate singing. 

You had been a little nervous about going since your relationship with Jaehyun was not public yet, but he assured you that you didn’t have to worry. You both wore hats that covered your faces pretty well and your seats were out of view from most people in the audience, so you really thought you didn’t have to worry. 

As “Locked out of Heaven” ended, Bruno Mars switched to a slower song “It Will Rain.” Lights lit up all around the arena from the flashlights on everyones phone. You both joined it, swaying your phones along with the crowd and singing, “There’ll be no sunshine if I lose you baby” 

At the very end of the song, Bruno Mars stepped away from the mic and let the crowd sing the “oohh” part, and it was magical. You and Jaehyun laughing at each other when you saw that you both got goosebumps from the beautiful moment. 

Just when you thought the concert couldn’t get any better, you hear the beginning notes of Finesse, one of your all time favorite songs. Using a half empty water bottle as a microphone, you and Jaehyun sing and dance along. 

You sing, “Fellas grab your lady if your lady fine.” while Jaehyun grabs your waist and pulls you in close to him, swaying to the music. Your cheeks hurt by the end of the song from smiling so much, you truly didn’t have a single care in the world and it was easily one of the best concerts you’ve been to. 

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The rest of the night you were on that concert ‘high’ that you always get after a fantastic concert. You didn’t feel a single negative emotion, until the very next day when you were woken up by Jaehyun’s manager calling him. This wasn’t too uncommon of an occurrence, so you closed your eyes again and tried to go back to sleep until Jaehyun shot up in bed right next to you. 

He involuntarily grabbed your arm as he listened to his manager. They talked for a while and when Jaehyun hung up, his face was pale white. Still, he smiled at you and stroked your hair like he always did when you woke up next to him. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask, sitting upright alongside him. 

He nodded his head, but when his phone dinged with a text from his manager, he let you see for yourself what was happening. You grab Jaehyun’s phone and click the link to a Dispatch article. 

The bolded title read: “NCT’s Jaehyun and aespa’s Y/n go Home Together after Attending a Bruno Mars Concert.”

The first photo attached was a blurry picture of you two getting in the same car. “You can really tell that’s us.” You say, trying to think positively. 

Jaehyun hums in response as he watches you scroll some more. If you thought there would be room to deny the allegations, you were proved very wrong when multiple videos started playing of you and Jaehyun dancing together, specifically during the song Finesse. 

There was more to the article but you set his phone down in your lap. A million emotions were flying through your mind, but after a couple of moments you found yourself laughing. Jaehyun laughs along with you too, because of course this would be how your relationship leaked. 

You had both spent so long being so secretive about everything you did together and now that it was finally out, you couldn't help but feel relieved. 

“Am I wrong for being kinda happy about this?” Jaehyun asks you. 

“Honestly I think I feel that same way.”

Jaehyun scoots closer and wraps his arms around you. “I hate hiding you from everyone.” He whispers, kissing you on the cheek. 

“Me too” you say, leaning your head against the bed frame and looking at him. He kisses you and you both melt into each other, feeling like a million years worth of stress just flew away. 

Obviously you were still going to have to deal with the consequences of this coming out, but you had this weird feeling that everything was going to turn out alright. You and Jaehyun will have each other no matter what, and you knew that he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of what you two have. 

[kasdan]

Matching Costume Headcanons

masterlist

Pairing: marvel characters x gn!reader

Characters: Frank Castle, Loki, Carol Danvers, Kamala Khan, Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Yelena Belova, Matt Murdock, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: franks part was so fluffy and cheesy it hurt my heart and then theres matt being the biggest whore, nat is a menace

happy halloween all!❤️

𝑭��𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆

he finds the costumes in the closet when he’s looking for something

“oh god”

knows exactly what it means even when he sees you and your innocent smile standing in the doorway

doesn’t even want to go out for halloween, but now he has to because he’s not going to turn you down when you look so excited and you obviously put time into finding the costumes

complains about how the costume fits on him and how it’s too tight in places

will put on a smile on his face even if he might not feel 100% into it, but by the end of the night he’ll won’t be able to help the genuine smile on his face, even if the costumes are of the dumbest things

gets tired of certain accessories on him and tries to take them off for a while, but is forced to put them right back on when he sees the look you have on your face

doesn’t care what he’s wearing he’s just glad he’s spending time with you and wouldn’t have it any other way

will put this costume or any other costume on again if you want him to mans actually will not care as long as you’re there with him

𝑳𝒐𝒌𝒊

when you bring up the idea of matching costumes together he’s confused at this custom

“why would you want to dress as something else?”

you eventually convince him to do it and can see that he’s more excited for it than he lets on

lets you do all the planning as it was your idea after all

he pretends to be reading and fully immersed in the book when you’re putting some things together for the costumes

he’s not good at hiding his interest

when you ask him to try on the costume for the first time he’s very reluctant and makes a big deal out of it

you practically have to push him into the bathroom to change, him mumbling about how he can just use magic to put it on, but you insist that he has to put it on the correct way

will complain the entire time when out in public while wearing the costume about “dumb midgardian traditions”

will do it again next year if you ask really nicely:))

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔

you have multiple different costumes that you change into as the night progresses

is very committed to the different costumes

one costume she carries a boombox around on her shoulder and you know that mf is so heavy to be carried around like that

has you both take a picture of every single costume you change into

goes out dancing with the costumes on and you have the time of your lives

will put out the wackiest dance moves, attempting to make them correlate to the costume she’s wearing, but ends up just jumping around

will run down the street and drag you along with her, she enjoys the freeing feeling of the wind along with the costume she’s in

hosts a halloween costume party so she can show everyone both of your costumes at once

overall she really just likes halloween

you’ll bake food and treats while in your costumes

she’s really tempted to dress up for the entire week of halloween but eventually just decides to do the day of when you mention the work that would have to go into it, even though she had enough costumes to do so

you did it really just to save yourself so you wouldn’t have to dress up for an entire week

𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝑲𝒉𝒂𝒏

she brings up the idea of matching costumes with the most excitement out of anyone

will have bruno make both the costumes— captain marvel of course but if you want to make your own she would be ecstatic and check up on the progress of it practically every minute

won’t stop talking about the costumes and how cute you guys are going to look in them

has her costume done months in advance

keeps giving you tips on different things you can do with your costume and adds the same things to her costume

the week of halloween no one can get her to shut up

she’s bouncing off the walls as halloween draws closer and the time to wear our costumes comes

her parents are constantly trying to get her to calm down but she’s kamala and she’s going to be excited when she gets to dress up as her favorite superhero

when you guys are out with your costumes she’s constantly raving on how cute they are and how you have the best costumes

already talks about next years costumes when the night is barely over

𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔

you surprise him with the costumes when they’re finally finished and are ready for him to see

he’s caught off guard by them, not being prepared for you presenting him with matching costumes, even though he knows halloween is coming up and you were bound to do something for it

he’s always down to try new things, so instead of dismissing and ignoring the outfits, he’ll embrace them and get excited to when you both can wear them out together

even if you guys don’t go out and do something he’ll still find dressing up in the costumes and doing whatever you guys do fun

as long as the costumes aren’t incredibly cheesy and dumb

when you suggest dressing up as tom and jerry he’s completely against it after you had to explain to him what it was

ends up going out in the costume anyway because he can’t bring himself to turn you down when you seem excited, even if it’s because of him being humiliated

will look into doing it again next year, but has to have a say in the costumes from here on out and won’t be afraid to turn any ideas down; he let you have your fun this year

𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓

has a million costume ideas you guys can do together

from peanut butter and jelly to two of the ninja turtles this man has everything you wouldn’t have even considered in a million years covered

takes this more seriously than some major school assignments

if you turn down all the ideas he has he’ll just go and come up with more until you eventually agree to one

has multiple color palettes to choose from for the costumes to make it to your liking

takes so many pictures of you two in the costumes

you will find him enthusiastically showing off the costume to other people and motioning to you from across the room as he talks

will want to make it an annual thing from this point on after you two got so much positive feedback

he wants to go everywhere with the costumes on; into every store and restaurant just to show them off happily leading the way as you trail behind him

you have to force him to take it off and put on regular clothes at the end of the night when he’s very reluctant to take the costume off

𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒂

you both dress as the dumbest things you could possibly find

you walk around spirit halloween to find something and she grabs everything she sees

there’s a point where you find a mask and you walk up behind her to scare her with it

she screams inside the store, almost punching you and you have to quickly shush her and pull the mask off to show her that you’re not a murderer under it

she just stares at you with an open mouth and wide eyes before she starts to laugh asking why you would do that between the laughs

you practically try on half the store, forgetting you’re there to find costumes to actually go out with

she comes out of the dressing room with tears in her eyes from how hard she’s laughing when you put on peppa pig costumes you found

you two almost get kicked out of the store when she knocks over accessories on a shelf and has to rapidly put everything back

picks out the most random accessories that don’t go with the costumes at all

you stay in the store until it closes and you have to rush to check out the costumes you eventually decide on

you both go out drinking and have a good time in the costumes that you eventually get

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑴𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒌

doesn’t really see the point of matching costumes since he won’t even be able to see what you look like, but caves when he can tell that you really want to

questions little tiny accessories that you have to clip on for him

you mess with him saying the costume is neon pink and his eyes visibly widen for a second before he realizes that you’re messing with him

will find himself smiling the whole night especially when people comment on the costumes

talks you up and gives you all the credit for the costumes if people ask about them

you purposely make his costume pants extra tight (for no apparent reason)

the little whore knows you did it on purpose too and will make you regret it

“accidentally” keeps dropping his glasses and bending down to pick them up

you offer to pick them up for him but he insists that he’s fine doing it himself

causes multiple instances in where he has to walk in front of you for something

he’s such a whore.

𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

picks out all the details for the costumes

she says every accessory makes a difference, no matter how small the detail is

the costumes are so tight they might as well just be painted on

makes the costumes identical to each other, with just the color of them being slightly different

walks in like she owns the place with your rightful place next to her

won’t let you leave her side for the whole time when you’re both wearing your costumes

she says you both have to be seen together with the costumes at all times or the magic will disappear

just smiles at you when you tell her you have to go to the bathroom and she motions for you to lead the way

you just sigh knowing you won’t be able to do anything about it and if she follows you into the bathroom she follows you into the bathroom

now you’re stuck with her and every year you’re going to be in the same boat you’re in now

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

you both spend time planning the costumes figuring out what you’re going to be and the design on how they’re going to look

you make a joke of you both going as witches and apparently the idea just stuck so now you’re designing different witch costumes you both can wear

makes the costumes as cliche as possible with the pointy hats and brooms

gives you a pointed look when you hold a broom up to her and she doesn’t grab it at first but then can’t help but let out a laugh as she grabs it

she even makes her costume have red highlights throughout it

will talk in the cliche witches voice

you’ll be getting a drink or washing your hands and she’ll come up behind you with her hands out and fingers bent

“i’ll get you my pretty”

it actually scares you because you’re not expecting it

you whip your body around, about to attack the intruder behind you when you just see wanda there and she starts laughing at your reaction

she draws the line at the cackle you ask her to do

at one point you run around on your brooms, zooming through different people

makes sure to stay home earlier in the night so she can pass out candy to trick or treaters

all photos used were found on pinterest ❤️

buy me a coffee ♡

[claimedcrossbows]

Tyler Galpin's Voice Analysis

Just a observation on Hunter Doohan's portrayal of Tyler, It seems like when Tyler was himself and not under the influence of Hyde and Laurel, his voice was a lot more softer. However, in moments when his Hyde nature was under control or under Laurel's influence it became much deeper. For instance, when Tyler is talking with wednesday at the Dance ands he's like "I knew there was a reason I liked you." His voice is deep/low/seductive as he's trying his best to flirt with her, I believe that's Hyde Tyler genuinely falling for wednedsay. Then there's the scene at the weathervane when Wednesday has a vision and passes out, he asks her very concerned if she's okay, his tone more high and frantic, I believe that's real Tyler. Fast forward to Tyler's reveal in the police station, his tone starts off again low as he slowly descends into complete Hyde form and his sadistic nature takes over..only to pull wednesday close and tell her/warn her that "She has no idea what's coming." His tone is much softer and as he looks at Wednesday, Sees her visibly upset at him, he begins to tear up himself as real Tyler shows up again.

I said all this to say this, Hunter Doohan was very intentional in playing Tyler Galpin, not just with him being essentially two characters in one, but knowing himself when to put in subtle key voice changes in his voice to show who is who at the moment.

I'm sure there's more examples but these are the ones that came to mind.

Anyway let me know what you think? Also, you think this new Bruno character gonna be competition for Weyler? 🤔

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 34: Kiss me under the Mistletoe

Fandom: Encanto

Character: Bruno Madrigal

Naughty or Nice

Warnings: Nothing to graphic, I'm to tired to write graphic smut

A/n: Should have been posted yesterday.

Bruno has become more affectionate ever since he came back to you and you weren't about to complain because you finally had the man you loved back in your arms.

Now sitting in your small home you gave Bruno a teasing smile. You two were both alone, you were happy Mirabel opted to watch your son. Letting your fingers run through the man's hair, he gave you a nervous smile.

"I...what's with that look?"

Laughing softly, your fingers ran down his cheek as you hummed softly. "Kiss me under the Mistletoe?"your voice dipped, eyes darkened for a moment as your nails then slipped down his back, gripping him tightly to your body.

Blinking a few times, Bruno ran his tongue over his lips as he nodded his head quickly. "I...I can do that!"

Bruno groans softly as he feels your nails digging into his back, a mixture of pleasure and pain coursing through his veins. He relishes in the sensation, his desire for you growing with each passing second.

His hands, strong and possessive, roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip. His touch is both gentle and firm, eliciting shivers of pleasure as he trails his fingers along your skin.

Biting your lip you then let your fingers slowly moved back to his curls giving it a soft tug.

Feeling your tugging on his hair, Bruno's desire intensifies. He leans into your touch, allowing you to guide him, to show him exactly what you desire. His lips leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin, leaving behind a tantalizing mark.

With a low, husky voice, he whispers against your ear, "Tell me. Tell me what you want. I'm here to give you everything."

His words send a shiver down your spine as you feel his desire for you burning brightly. Your pleasure becomes his priority as he continues to explore and worship your body, his movements becoming more fervent and purposeful.

Together, you and Bruno lose yourselves in the depths of passion, a dance of desire and pleasure that ignites a fire within both of you. In this moment, there is only you, him, and the overwhelming connection that binds you together.

Under the mistletoe, you and Bruno share a moment of passion and love, a moment that will forever be etched in your memories.

[tonberry-yoda]

Love your writings! Enemies to lovers with our favourite capo? 👀

Enemies to Lovers - Bruno Bucciarati

notes - SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMFG! It's literally been in my ask box for a year dude. It might not be the best and I apologize, but nonetheless, it was still fun. I hope you enjoy, even if it's silly. word count - 861

You were told to kill Bruno Bucciarati.

It was part of the job. Kill important people, make lots of money. Easy right?

You looked at yourself in the mirror as you tied up your hair and hid a knife in a garter around your leg. You felt… pretty. You smiled at yourself and turned to look at your outfit.

A ball with mafia members wasn’t rare, and it wasn’t rare that you went to them. You had actually met Bruno on several occasions.

It was such a shame you had to kill the poor man.

He was kind. Kinder than a lot of people you had met on the job. Kind, but he hated you. You knew he did. The way he would look at you over his glass of champagne from across the room, you just knew he wanted to kill you.

Frankly, you didn’t like him much either. You weren’t supposed to be kind in the mafia. If he was supposed to be any sort of boss, he should act like one. You were busting your ass just to hope that you would get promoted while he was building his way up dressed like a model.

You felt really good about the night to come. Never had you been so… nervous about a job.

You walked to the car that was waiting for you just outside of your house and you crawled in, thanking the driver.

It wasn’t a long drive, just a stressful one. You could feel your hands shaking. You had done this a thousand times before, so why was it so hard all of the sudden? You took a deep breath as the car stopped in front of a large mansion. You thanked the driver again and stepped out. The knife you hid was still securely against your thigh, so you walked to the entrance without a second thought.

The ballroom was crowded. Full of thousands of members of the mafia trying to make deals and kill each other. The energy was ecstatic. You loved it.

You scanned the room trying to get something. Anything. Any sign that Bruno was there. He had to be there. You saw dozens of familiar faces, so where was he?

“Hello, y/n.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin hearing Bruno behind you. You turned around and smiled wryly at him.

“Bucciarati.” You nodded.

“How lovely to see you.” He smiled.

“You as well.”

“Champagne?” He held out a glass to you with golden, bubbly liquid.

You took it with a smile. “How considerate.” You took a long sip, not once taking your eyes off of Bruno. The knife on your leg was getting antsy.

“Would you care to dance?” Bruno asked.

He was making this easy for you… too easy. You gave him a side eye, but took his hand anyway, setting your drink down on the table, knowing that you would probably never see it again.

Bruno swept you onto the dance floor, perfectly wrapping his arm around your waste. Dare you think that he was trying to make you fall in love.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

“What everyone else is doing here.” you answered vaguely.

“Always so clever.” he chuckled, shaking his head.

You two danced for a while. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest and give you away if you didn't do anything soon.

“Everything all right?” Bruno asked.

You smiled. “Mhm. Just fine.”

“It’s getting crowded in here,” he whispered in your ear. “Let’s take this to the garden.”

Now you knew that he had figured out something. You were screwed if you followed him, but you were even more screwed if you didn’t. You let him lead you to the garden and tried to keep some sanity. It was a simple job. It was the least you could do.

It was cold out. But the kind of cold that you enjoy after time in the beating sun. A chill ran down your spine, but you didn't mind it.

Bruno sat on a bench next to some daisies and patted the open spot next to him. You sat next to him and looked up at the stars and moon. Now or never.

“Who’s paying you to kill me?” Bruno asked.

You weren’t shocked.

“Can't tell you.” you said.

He hummed in response. “I see. Well, are you going to do it?”

You looked over at him and chuckled. “No, I don’t think so.”

“No? Don't tell me you’re going soft.”

You slowly took the knife out and twirled it in your hand. “Not soft. I just think I brought the wrong weapon.”

Bruno laughed and leaned back on the bench. “Some other time then?”

You looked at the knife. “Yeah. Some other time.”

You turned to pull the knife out on him, to actually get the job done, but Bruno planted a quick kiss on your cheek and disappeared.

That knife wouldn’t have been of much help anyway.

Strangely, you longed for the next meeting with Bruno. To perhaps actually get the job done with a better weapon and a long dance.

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) (3) (4) | pinned post | ko-fi

2024 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated <3

~~~~~

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Short letter for a rainy day "

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a comforting letter just for you for your (literally or not) rainy days. Senders are gonna be different for y'all, I'll try to channel something about them too.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

[sender: your Guides/Angels or ancestors; possibly a group of people for most of you. Someone that loves you nonetheless. May be a grandparent/parent/friend/family member/(future) lover's HS as well for a few. You may be getting encouraging signs or dreams here and there: these are meant to calm you and help you go on]

Darling, stop your tears please. It's so painful to see you so hopeless like that... I know it's tiring to keep going on like this, feeling all this pain so deeply, but things will change. We're protecting you. Listen to us, don't be stubborn: let us help you heal your heart. Let us help you see what is going on from a different point of view, a more open and safer one. A more positive one too. Don't hold on what is meant to leave you: trust us, it's gonna be okay even if now it just feels so painful and impossible. Even if now you don't want to let go... that's an old story, and it's time to live a new one now. So let it go. Breath in some new fresh air and let go. How can you manifest your desires if you keep staying where they cannot be? Move on, be bold and brave. Success is assured. Now try to calm down and breathe. Let go off all the pain and start anew. We love you.

song: you and me | lifehouse (you may be pretty confused atm, either about love -you may fear not being able to experience it or be loved by anyonealso cause of past experiences also with family/friends- or about your self worth too or career/future)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

[sender: could be your HS or someone's HS, either someone still in the 3d or not. Possibly your main Guide atm. They're trying to reach you down in any possible way, try to let them in -I think if you're someone that tends to get angered and frustrated and you may avoid listening to others and close off]

I'm here, why don't you want to give me your hands? Let me hold you as I used to. I don't wanna hurt you and I for sure don't want you to hurt. Seeing you hurt pains me so much, but I also know you need those moments to let it all out. I know that the further down you reach, the stronger you can get up again: you always do this. But I also know it can be heart wrenching to always have to do this alone. Let me help you, then. Let me cheer you up. Let me clear your darkest skies. Let me help you see the light around you, the light that you emanate from within, everytime you forget about it and let yourself be enveloped by the dark. You're not that, I know. Be kind with yourself, do not fight your feelings. Let them flow in your body, know them, know yourself. And then let them out: run, scream, dance, throw punches at your pillow... there's nothing bad in that. at all. I'm here to help you, if you let me. Stop hurting yourself now, that's enough.

song: grenade | bruno mars (you may be feeling frustrated by someone's behaviour with you, something you don't understand)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

[sender: someone special for sure, either someone you love/loved deeply or your future partner or best friend's HS. Maybe your main Guide too. They're a gem, and you're the same for them. They're kind of precise but also may lose track of their words if you interrupt them or if they even interrupt themselves. Very sweet energy]

Dear, Please put things into perspective. Take a breath before you keep going in that direction with your mind. It's not something that you should do. You're so special... please take care of you, drink your water. Let water cleanse you and relax you in any possible way. Shower, take a bath... Do not overwork, do not stress: you know things get heavier when you do and you tend to breakdown more easily. Respect yourself please... and don't close me off ("you can't"). You know you need me, as I need you. Let me in, trust me, trust us. See your real worth, how strong and determined you are and how amazing you are: do not come in between yourself with your doubts and all those negative thoughts that sometimes you let run wild inside. You're not them, don't listen to them. They just wanna hurt you, while I wanna save/help you. Let me in, come on. Let me love you, let me take care of you.

song: freak me | another level (yes this could be a lover/fs/counterpart for most of you ofc... got lot of 18+ messages as well and tbh this is not your first song I picked up but the less explicit one hopefully)

[dreamwritersworld]

I could fall in love! (? 🤫 x reader)

This is a new story! There will be a love interest 🤭 I hope you enjoy it for now! This will have music incorporated in it!

Y/n was a breath of fresh air to her people, she moved the water gracefully, and held herself to great standards. But because of her gift from Eywa, she was the most searched for. She is the person that parents would tell their children about, ‘a myth’, not real unless you are within the clan.

Y/n’s parents were Tonowari and Ronal, clan leaders of Awa’atlu. Y/n’s arrival caused the clan to celebrate and create a cultural of dance and music, seeing as the little girl moved her body with the water and enjoyed it all.

Until. She was taken away as a young child…into the deep reef, the unknown part of the sea, for her gift. They lived so deep, no one could get her because of how much water pressure was down there. She adapted to a new life style, never forgetting her home, and being put to work endlessly. Y/n was only a kid. She was kept in a beautiful village…it did not come without a price, she was never able to experience any other areas of the world, not allowed to return home. Afraid the girl who held the city down, would be taken from their arms too …the same way they had stole her from the Metkayina people.

It was said if you listened close enough and were above the village, Y/n’s cries could be heard from the bottom of the seas, where her heart laid…broken. The clan was devastated when Y/n was kidnapped, they continued their once in a year celebration carnival, in honor of her. She had won the people’s heart at a young age, she was meant to be their future.

So Eywa granted y/n another chance, a way out. Y/n was fast and stronger than anyone in the underwater city she lived in, so the one time the people decided not to drain Y/n of her powers, she took the chance and swam faster than she ever did rushing and had the help of the ocean find her way home. When she did arrive back home, she was in deep pain, fighting for her life, and asking for the Tsahik’s supplies in order to heal her own body. She could heal her own wounds far better than any Tsahik could, her hands held great power. Once healed she was greeted properly by her clan and once again reunited with her family.

However Y/n’s past was so dark, she didn’t ever like talking about it, so when she was asked she would freeze up and say “I-I was young and I will not discuss it, as it wasn’t my best days. I would not like you to see me in that light. Please accept my wishes.” She only ever told her family the ‘on the surface areas’, “I was kidnapped and overworked. I left once Eywa heard my prayers to her, begging for a way back home.” She was so affected the only way she knew how to process it all was remaining strong and having a smile on her face. Being the first in line as a leader for the clan was a lot of pressure yes, but being that and the way of the ocean was more difficult. Everyone counted on Y/n to keep their ocean safe, Y/n promised her life to the clan.

There was a place with another clan where Y/n was sworn to be safe, she had to make a long difficult trip for. This trip was meant for the Tsahik to learn and show their work, however her mother was pregnant and is in risk of traveling. Before leaving for almost a month she recited the words she had said to her clan when she was only 9.…”I promise my life to the clan and swear to never let any threat graze against this island and my people.” Just because she left to put her part in the clan doesn’t mean they were happy she was leaving for awhile, even with the stronger warriors by her side nothing will ease the fear of losing their future leader again.

Until she arrived just above the surface, smiles appeared on the people’s faces as she returns back to her island safe and sound. This is the longest they have gone without her…

I arrive on the island sending a wave and a smile. They don’t deserve to have anything less than a happy face just because they don’t know how draining the trip was, doesn’t mean they should feel my discomfort.

“My daughter has returned!” I smile at them as I approach my father, sending respectful greetings to them before embracing them and my siblings a hug. “Sister! You must meet-“ I laughed at how excited Tsireya was until her sentence came to an abrupt stop as we hear singing in the crowd, coming closer.

(begin playing song)

“Ah,ah ah,”

Oh please no, not in front of everyone. I try ignoring the singing coming closer “Meet who-“ suddenly I was now put to a stop as I feel my mom hands hold my arm and sending a smile with a look I know too well, telling me to listen. This is going to be awkward.

That’s when he came out the crowd, only creating more suspicions that we are promised to each other.

“Look at her shining.”

Ahh it’s happening, he’s coming out the crowd…please.

“Now the ocean is smiling cause our baby’s home.

Can you feel what I feel?”

I send comforting smiles to the crowd as i try to remind calm from all the nervousness he is sending me, and not in a good way.

“Our precious Y/n has returned! I’ll be the first to say welcome back. Oh, welcome back!”

I smiled and go to shake his hand respectfully

“Thank you-“

oh he’s not done..?

“I said, welcome, w-w-welcome back, w-w-welcome back!”

I quickly let go of his hand once the song is over and try to brush over the gesture once again.

“Thank you Imrik! I appreciate the gesture from you and the clan!” I turn to the clan “thank you again my people! You may enjoy the rest of your day!” I turn to my family sharing a knowingly with Tsireya. “I know you’re excited to tell me sister and I can assure you I will return to you, so you can finish your sentence but please can I slip away for a moment to freshen up? It’s been a long trip and eclipse is almost coming.” She gives a bright smile and agrees with my request saying maybe tomorrow I will have time. I sure hope so…

I freshman up and quickly go to rest, after checking with my parents if everything is alright and if anything is needed.

…That rest was everything I needed before I was up early to help around in the morning. “Sister I know mother and father haven’t had any time allow you to meet the ou-“ she was cut off again by my mother and one of the clan members requesting me from afar. “Sister I am so sorry perhaps we can continue this another day? I’ve just been so busy, whoever it is I can assure you I will meet them as soon as possible! You have my word.” I send a reassuring smile and quickly turn away to do what was needed of me. It continued like that for the next day…unbeknownst to Y/n, Tuk who Y/n was supposed to already know about and meet were was her from afar excited to meet the girl Tsireya has spoke highly about.

Tuk had just finished off making a shell necklace, still stuck in her head ‘She’s like a…a dream? She’s so pretty! This is taking too long I think I’ll just walk up to her! The warrior ocean…what’s the word dad said? p-…princess! ’

So it was decided she was going to walk up to Y/n, lying to her siblings about her going to hang with the other kids …well technically not really lying..? “Hi! I am Tuk” Y/n turns surprised, looking at the girl who’s family she had been excited to finally meet! “I-Hello Tuk, how are you? I have been wanting to greet you and your family for so long! I am so sorry I never got the chance to approach you first.” Tuk smiled at the girl who was before her “It’s ok! What are you doing?” Y/n rushes with excitement ready to tell the sweet girl in front of her how festival carnival worked for the Metkayina people. “I am helping for the festival approaching I-“ Tuk jumps with excitement “what’s that!” Y/n laughs at the joy of the little girl “Well festival Carnaval was first created to celebrate my arrival! You see yawntutsyip, (darling,little loved one) I can move the ocean and I always danced with it as a child. The Metkayina people do the festival every year once our brothers and sisters, the Tulkan’s come to visit. The clan invited them to the party since I grew very close with the animals! Now festival carnival is what I call ‘Celebration of life’” Tuk looked at Y/n with pure joy with questions springing out of her.

“Can you teach me a small dance? I want to dance in the crowd while the people sing!” To this I smile and agree. We spent a few minutes on dancing while I hum the music for Tuk to follow to. “You’re a quick learner Tuk! That’s just one of our dances, we have a few! We do it for the next two nights! How about I teach you one of the lyrics?” Tuk immediately nods her head ��Please! I want to be able to sing along your voice!” I laugh at her cuteness. “Definitely! Theres a part by myself for the song on first night, you can sing right along side the people and I will be sure to show you off while you sing! The lyric is ‘never alone cause this is our home, magic can happen for real in rio.’ I have to get back to work but as long as you got that down beautiful, you will do great!” Tuk smiles and recited her words while Y/n calls for Tsireya to bring Tuk back home.

“You have met Tuk! Cute isn’t she?” I smile to this looking at the sweet girl who was so happy to be included. “Definitely! She’s perfect, In my eyes she is one of the people! May you please take her home safely while I finish stuff up before eclipse?” Tsireya agrees. However on the walk home she couldn’t help but giggle at how highly Tuk had also talked about Y/n. “She’s just like you! Sworn in from Eywa herself! So pretty! It’s unreal! You guys are like the ocean’s princesses!” After saying her goodbyes to Tsireya, Tuk entered with a proud walk, heading to her brother Neteyam and her mother Neytiri to tell them about the older sister Y/n!

Tsireya returned home to tell Y/n of the sweet girls words, telling y/n the family’s background, how she had a slight liking to one of the boys names Lo’ak, how the children were having trouble settling with Ao’nung and his friends terrorizing the siblings.

“How dare Ao’nung show any sign of disrespect to good people? They’re clearly earning their spot in the clan. Mmh how about we bring them into dance with us during the song tomorrow? Singing and dancing with them will show unity and respect, the clan will see what we see.” Tsireya’s smile rises enjoying the idea of dancing with the new family. “So be it, we will invite the family to dance alongside us and our family!” Festival Carnaval will be tomorrow…

!��!

This is not the official title!! If you guys have an suggestions please let me know!! 💞 if you’d like to be added to tag list please lmk as well!

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype

@zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll

@abbersreads @elegantkidfansoul @goodiesinthecloset21 @lv9su @ssc7514

@useryourbut @nikotokitaswife @eatassskatefast12

@simp-erformarvelwomen @luciddasher