#cpop scenarios

[artistaes]

genre of my life story: hurt/comfort without the comfort

#im back #kinda sorta #hurt/comfort #angst #tragedy #romance #but where is it #nct scenarios #bts scenarios #cpop scenarios #kpop scenarios #shitpost

[dropsofletters]

the miss that missed steps [dsc]

summary: dong sicheng once had women shouting his name at the top of his lungs as they tossed their shirts on stage. now, if anyone were ever to compare him to the drummer he used to be, they’d laugh at his face. he spends his days folding clothes and making sure people don’t make too much noise around the hotel his uncle owns. the same man that told him music would never work.

as an artist, she can create beautiful things, but a relationship has never been one then. with graduation passing by in front of her eyes, leaving with her roommates and good memories, this new beginning of her life comes with a grand lie.

they both say they have their lives together. sicheng says he can unlock any door if he puts his mind into it. she says she can lie about having a relationship and not burn herself in the process.

three lies. just three months of lying and it’ll be done for.

title: the miss that missed steps pairing: dong sicheng x reader genre: slice of life!au ; artist!au ; landlord-ish!au ; previous rockstar!au ; fake dating!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au word count: 15,455 words type: angst ; fluff ; suggestive ; humor ; real life shenanigans

Booming bass. Cheers. Clinking glasses. Sounds that she should not connect to the worst experience that she could go through in an October afternoon when the air is too dense with humidity. She should be at home, laying down in bed while lurking through her Netflix account and catching up with those shows that she did not pay attention to in the past semester she cursed, but that is far from the case.

The culprit of the rampant headache-turning-migraine that locates within half of her face and dissipates to her heart comes with a name. Daeri, her classmate and supposed closest friend. This word quoted, highlighted and asked for source because it hasn’t felt like that in a while.

This hotel that Daeri rented for a girls-and-boyfriends night out exudes eccentricity. Each wall is a crimson red, bathed in the violet and blue glow from inside the room with just a thin glass resting in the middle of the door. She can see the tall man that is hanging around Daeri, who was not there seven months ago—the last time she saw her, just before graduation—, wearing a suit from head to toe that lifts up the slightest when he leans with his microphone to sing alongside his loved one.

The Daeri that she knew was aware that romance is difficult for her. It’s prickling roses and bittersweet alcohol that leaves her with more of a headache than with a hungover hues, forbidding her of remembering. The Daeri she knew looks so much like the one seated with a band on her finger, caressing the plush cheeks of the man that smiles at her as if he is the whole world.

Two years ago, she opted to have that…and it was anything but that found-love that brings happiness and calmness.

She hears the tapping of fingers against the dizzying, blood-colored walls, followed by the rolling of wheels that has her looking over her shoulder. Whoever is skating in the middle of this hotel might as well be over-the-top crazy, but that’s the least of her worries. A turn of her head gives her a nice glance of plush lips that part the slightest when gasping and falling to his knees. The carpet digs in the balls of his quite delicate hands, long legs thudding loudly and earning a hang of his head.

“Oh,” She moves closer to him, pressing a hand to his shoulder, bony to the touch yet, quite warm. Like the caress of red that presses to the lobes of his ears and damps his neck in shades that would make a perfect Valentine’s Day palette. “Are you okay?”

The guy in question looks like he works here. A quite unpolished uniform rests on his body, with golden brimming on the sleeves in a navy-blue colored sea. One of the buttons that should be right under his Adam’s apple is missing, strands of long black hair framing the delicacy of a face that is all round edges and glimmers of rose-gold.

He nods, as if he can’t find his voice, sitting down on the floor and swallowing thickly. “Nothing happened. You don’t have to worry.”

She pulls away at that moment, her hand hovering in the air like the stupidest motion she could do. For some reason, there is something about him that is quite captivating, but upon first touch, he cuts the roots that make him connect to the floor that people step up. As if he wants to be far, far away.

“I see.” She lurks through her purse, getting out an alcohol-spraying bottle before offering it to him, waving it in front of his palms. “You must have bruised yourself.”

“That’ll burn.” His deep voice says as a matter of fact, his eyes gleaming under the weight of his straight eyebrows frowning at her.

No shit, Sherlock; she wants to bite, instead, she kneels in front of him. “Quite big to be complaining about a little burn on your palms, don’t you think?”

That makes him frown even deeper. For such a pretty face, the eyebrows make it quite an expressive canvas. “Miss, a part of helping someone physically also includes helping them emotionally.”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t know falling on the rug gave you a heartache.”

“My pride.” The worker scoffs, joining his hands by the wrist and putting them forward for her to spray on. “It hurt my pride, considering I just ate dust.”

Upon seeing the pained expression on his face, with his eyelids scrunched together and his thick lips pressing on a thin line as he tilts his head to the side and waits for the spray, she sighs, sitting down on the floor with a pop.

“Take off your jacket. We’ll use it as a cloth and it’ll hurt less.”

The stranger doesn’t say a word, but he does take off his jacket. Slim and long arms with little veins popping here and there, seemingly untouched by the fall, splay in front of him after resting the jacket on her lap.

Although it’s an old rag, a jacket that belongs to the nineties and should have stayed there—not like the trends that are coming back, if we don’t count low-rise jeans—, it holds his scent. Clean, fresh, as if he has just gotten out of the shower and kept with him a lime just to reminisce of summer.  

Two sprays have him hissing even when she presses the jacket to the wounded hands, his bottom lip trapped in between his teeth like a shark that caught its prey. She hadn’t realized the music had stopped, rubbing on the wounds with softness before blowing a raspberry into the skin. The little hairs in his arms stood up, actions mirrored by her thanks to a situation way different than the one she found herself in.

“My little jade!” Daeri had a habit of calling her that ever since she gave her a set of jades as a moving-in gift when they started being roommates on freshman year of college. Her image does not differ much from how she looked then when their gazes finally connect. Her dark brown hair rests just underneath her earlobes in a perfectly styled bob, with a pointy and downturned nose and a smile that shows all set of teeth. “Didn’t know you were here already.” She stopped on her tracks, fixing the violet cardigan over her shoulders and sparing a glance to the worker and then, to her. “Is there anything going on?”

She should have said no. That she passed by the worker doing whatever he was thinking he was doing and then, get inside the party. However, much to her surprise, the man that had been caressing Daeri’s face not too long ago—or longer than she imagined, just how long had she been there with the hotel worker?—is not a stranger to her. The absolute opposite, if she’s honest.

Not an ex, but not a why. Not nothing but not everything. That’s what Dohwan was back in the day, when freshman year was rolling around with the heat of summer enticing her to finish the semester quicker as she spent her days with Daeri and Dohwan locked up in his dorm. There’d always be too many people around, reason as to why she’d end up squished next to him while playing videogames, and while the heat was unbearable, it was a little less with him.

Kang Dohwan had been a corner-kiss in a drunken night, a little crush that had burst her heart and mind when he had decided to enroll in nursing school and change majors.

Now, he’s back, and with his hand splaying on the small of Daeri’s back.

He doesn’t call her jade, he calls her by name. With his set of straight teeth shown in a big smile, black hair falling on top of his head in little damp strands. His waist is small as ever, shoulders broader, thighs thicker. It seems like he has started working out and now, she wonders if that’s the reason why Daeri has bulked up, too. Gorgeous as ever.

“What a surprise!” Dohwan boosts, as if he had forgotten that she’s Daeri’s best friend. Does she even call her that anymore in front of people, or is the term too stupid for their age? “Daeri told me she had a surprise for me, but I’d never imagine she’d reunite us.”

Sounds like Daeri had not mentioned her.

She stands up at that moment, trying not to bring back the memories that clash against her eyes of a certain August 3rd night, when an R&B tune accompanied them in a rainy night as they sat in his old car. Daeri had gone on a vacation for the summer and she had come back early from her family house because of the imminent necessity of running away. Dohwan was the only one that was available, three shots into drunkenness and with his hair way shorter than what it is like right now.

“Everything’s okay.” She complies, giving a good glance to how well-suited Dohwan and Daeri are. Daeri has a summer white dress under her clothes that grazes her curves perfectly and lets the rose tattoo on her thigh show. Dohwan doesn’t leave behind the dark colors, exchanging his old college looks for something classier. Instead, she is wearing the same pair of jeans she has gone for in special occasions in the past few years, with her favorite sweater tucked inside one of the hoops, hanging from her shoulder.

The disgusting monster that is envy creeps over her.

It’s not because it is Dohwan. She had let Dohwan behind from the moment he got in that plane and flew to New York City. Daeri cried for him as much as she did, missing their first real friend until they met other people. The problem is that Daeri’s life stays clear of issues. Everything falls into place.

She sells her art pieces online. Daeri works at a museum making live realism drawings.

She has never been able to keep a relationship going. Daeri gets any man she wants and makes him wait for her.

They are both the same age and yet, Daeri is now well-accommodated enough for her to buy the brands she’d gasp about on their shared laptop when they were roommates.

She kept the old laptop.

Daeri bought a new Mac.

“Sorry,” She utters, feeling the presence of someone standing up behind her, dusting his hands on the white t-shirt underneath his jacket. “We kind of got lost in the moment. You know, it’s not always your boyfriend gets a carpet burn.”

Maybe, these things happen to Daeri because she’s not stupid enough to say stuff like that.

The poor worker, whom she is just now thinking about, must have frowned even deeper behind her. She can imagine him shouting that she’s crazy, but screaming doesn’t seem like a verb he’d take up on. Maybe he’d just scoff and roll his eyes, insulting her silently and leaving her friends with a glimmer of a doubt.

Instead, he stands there, eerily silent, watching. She looks at him, his profile, eyes set on Dohwan with an intensity she’d never be able to read even if she tried.

This man, whoever this is, has cards hidden under his sleeve and the smile he gives after. So small that she’s surprised he can even move his face.

“I didn’t know you had somebody. Congratulations!” Dohwan emits, quirking an eyebrow and extending his hand towards…the stranger. “You’ve earned yourself a good one. Our friend over here was the mom of the group since forever. I’m Dohwan, a close friend of hers—”

Close is an understatement. They used to be best friends.

The worker still doesn’t raise his hand to meet Dohwan’s, looking at it before sparing her a glance. She’s not sure if she’s begging with her eyes, but she must be. She has to be.

“Sicheng.” The name could be invented or it could be absolutely real. Nonetheless, he grasps Dohwan’s hand in a tight hold, giving it a squeeze and making it move up and down. “I was just dropping my girl off and accidentally dropped to the floor. Happens.”

She laughs at his words. At Sicheng’s words. Somehow, the name, real or not, fits him like a glove.

Daeri cackles, placing her hands on Dohwan’s shoulder. “Anyone would fall for that face over there. I don’t blame you.” Though, she squints her eyes at her friends. “I blame somebody for not telling me they had a boyfriend.”

“It’s fairly recent.” She waves her hand, looking at Sicheng.

“Quite recent.” He pushes, looking at her with a challenge in his eyes. They glimmer and prod at her when he interlocks his hands behind his back, playing innocent. “How long now? A week?”

“A week.” She completes, and the number makes her feel ridiculous. Who brings her boyfriend of seven days to a getaway with her oldest friends?

“Great.” Daeri adds. “You’re joining us, Sicheng? We have booze and some little snacks that Dohwan’s sister prepared for us.”

Quite like expected, Sicheng shakes his head. “I have to get back to work. I just came to drop her off. Got a bit sidetracked.” Though, he is not all two plus two and metaphors of ‘the sky is blue’. Sicheng can and will surprise if needed. Quite like he does when he licks his lips before pressing them to her cheek, delicate as a flower when he noses the skin and pulls away. “See you tomorrow. Get home safely.”

“Damn it. We’ll get to talk next time then, man.” Dohwan shakes Sicheng’s hand as a goodbye, and the man can only give him a nod.

She’s trying her hardest not to touch the tickle that remains in her skin after such delicate, innocent kiss.

Sicheng hangs the jacket from his shoulder, walking towards the elevator and pressing the button to open it. It takes a few seconds before he enters, turning around and looking up at her. The strands of his pushed back hair fall on those enigmatic eyes and for the first time, she feels like there is someone in this world that can be read with less potence than her.

The doors close, quite like those irises do when looking at anyone.

So, she returns her gaze to her friends, feeling weirdly heated and guilty. Excited, in some way, for being looked at differently—Daeri is the first one to speak, and for someone she looks up to with such honesty, it’s nice to be patted in the back sometimes.

“Quite the eye-candy.”

“Mhm.” She hums, stealing a glance towards Dohwan. “Didn’t know you two were together.” Her teeth press together to let out the fakest: “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Thank you, little jade.” Daeri wraps an arm around her shoulder, smiling with pleasure. “I wish that relationship lasts longer than a week. Let’s see if you can finally make it work, aye? I want us to walk down the aisle together towards our men!”

Right. The band on her finger. Dohwan asked for her hand in marriage.

And she was just the third wheel, the trio that got involved in a matter that should have happened sooner. An almost-kiss in a drunken night. The one person that cannot make love compatible.

A month is a lifetime for her love stories. Daeri knows this.

Must be the part of her mouth that Dohwan did not kiss that spoke when she said: “It will work, I’m certain of it.”

###

FRIDAY: AUGUST 3RD, 2018. 

“Dad doesn’t get it, you know?”

Dohwan has his legs propped on top of her lap, uncomfortably going over the middle of the car seats that separates them. His head is tossed back against the window, as if the rain was washing away his worries. He had picked her up half-drunk, and she had asked him to stop once the rain started pouring. The noodles that he had wished for when he had texted her long forgotten, eyes casted on her as if he’s looking for answers in her frame.

He’s bigger than her in size. Broad shoulders and long legs. His bottom lip takes up a big part of his mouth, pouted with even more force in its red, swollen glow. His eyes twinkle in their dark hues, perhaps from the tears that he always fights back when talking about this situation or because the night has deposited its stars in his gaze.

“He’s always like ‘Hwan, you could have done better than art school. You’re not that good at art, either. Go to med school or something’. He doesn’t get it.” His hand extends then, resting on top of her palm that splayed on top of his knee. “Not quite like you do.”

“…He’s a doctor, not an artist. He can’t judge what you can or cannot do with your art.” She complies, but Dohwan only sighs, leaning forward until he’s seated face to face with her, his legs still on her lap.

“Exactly.” He answers. “…We can always imagine, right? Like, imagine if he saw me for once and he was happy with what he saw.”

Her eyes glide across his face. His strong jawline, big eyes, rounded cheeks. His short black hair and the way his body moves with each breath. He rakes the scent of tequila, but she doesn’t mind.

That’s his favorite drink, after all. She’s had them with him.

“I’m happy with what I see.”

There’s mischief in him, always has, so his right eyebrow lifts up at those words, leaning forward until he is munching on his bottom lip softly. “That sounds awfully wrong for someone this close to me. I could end up kissing you, you know? Three tequila shots do mad shit to me.”

It wouldn’t be mad, she wants to tell him. Instead, she chuckles at his words. “You’d only do it with three tequila shots on you.”

Dohwan smiles, shaking his head in the process. “I’d do it with a glass of water and three slurps on noodles in my stomach, trust me.”

“Dohwan…” She laughs, shaking her head. “Stop playing around.”

“Oh, come on. Friends do it all the time.” Dohwan complies. “Kiss. Kiss attractive friends. You haven’t seen yourself when painting; that concentrated look on your face is fucking hot.”

“Tequila shots talking.”

“…Then make it three tequila shots and a noodle date with me, how about that?”

“Dohwan.” She repeats, trying to stop the pattering of her heart. He says it without meaning much. He isn’t naming it anything other than a kiss between friends. That’s all she’ll get from him.

“Wouldn’t you kiss me?”

“I’d get a taste of the idea first, then consider it.”

Dohwan leans forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth and then, chuckling. “Ideas can’t be tasted, kisses can.”

Though, he doesn’t push any further, moving to the driver’s seat and taking his phone out of his pocket. “I wonder if we can get food delivered to the car…”

That night, the tequila talking for Dohwan sounded sweeter than any romance she ever had.

### 

There were once people shouting his name. Not endless rows or seas, but enough people for him to think he had more of a future than drumming his index fingers against the main desk at the hotel’s reception to introduce his entrance to his coworker. Besides, Uncle Yifeng hates it to bits and pieces.

Usually, Sicheng finds it easier to ignore the thoughts that weighted him down. Sure, the fallout happened a year ago—he should be over it by now, getting used to the lifestyle of waking up earlier, with less energy pumping through his veins and more of a lukewarm reality. It’s not like he was keen of meeting the people in the bars they performed at and tried to get a number or two, or that he enjoyed being watched on stage. He misses the friendship, the companionship, the fact that he could create music with his friends.

“I kicked out the people in room two hundred-seventy. Done.” That’s what he works as right now. Uncle Yifeng calls him a landlord, but he’s just a nicely dressed security guard. As it turns out, the receptionist doesn’t like confrontation, no matter how loud and annoying she can get.

“Oh my God, Sicheng, thank you.” Alex drags like her whole life depends on it, plopping her head on the main desk with the dramatics of an Oscar-winning actress. She fixes the baby hairs slipping apart from her dark bun, blinking furiously. “That old lady literally threatened me with an umbrella so I stepped on my twenty-dollar heels and I told her, respectfully, lady—”

“You didn’t tell her anything.” Sicheng completes, toying with one of the left buttons on his jacket. “Knowing you, Lex, you literally looked her in the eyes and gasped silently.”

Alex doesn’t like being told the truth. In her eyes, she’s one of those boss ladies that likes Beyoncé posts on Instagram and posts selfies without even thinking twice about the outcome.

He’s seen her, twenty selfies before a good one is about as normal as it gets with her.

“Look who’s talking. Dong Sicheng, I’m sure you just popped your head inside the room after knocking and said ‘leave’.”

“A very sturdy ‘leave’ works better than saying nothing.”

He keeps drumming his fingers against the desk, which causes Alex to clasp her hand around his fingers, widening her eyes at him and speaking at an obnoxiously high tone. “If you really were Mr. I Speak The Truth and Nothing Else, you would tell Mr. Yifeng that you’d rather give drum classes than kicking people out of his hotel.”

It was his mom’s idea. She said he needed some peace and quiet from the drama that surfaced one year ago, and Uncle Yifeng was there from the very beginning, filling his mouth with ‘I Told You So’s and shaking his head like his life depended on it.

“Drum classes that no one would pay for.”

“How’d you know?”

“I just know.” Sicheng slips away from her hold, resting his cheek against his hand. “Instead of talking about me, maybe we should talk about something else.”

Resting her hip against the desk, Alex wavers her eyebrows in a mischievous dance. “Unluckily for you, Sicheng, you’re the topic of this night. Someone’s looking for you.”

“Say I’m not here.” Sicheng completes, sparing a look to the elegant curved TV screen behind Alex’s desk.

She places herself right in his line of vision. “Too late. She’s waiting outside for you.”

That smile on her face is no good. “What do you mean she’s waiting outside for me? Who’s she?”

“I don’t know.” Alex shrugs her shoulders in her uniform, way more polished than his. “I just saw a lady going crazy about finding you and she was in a panic. Women supporting women, you know?”

“How about friends supporting friends?”

Alex presses her lips, pushing them up mockingly. “That dangling thing between your legs makes me question if a woman looking for you is something I should protect you from. Men are rats sometimes. What if you did something to her?”

Sicheng widens his eyes. “What part of ‘I don’t know who you’re talking about’ isn’t understandable?”

“You never said that.”

“Some things are implicit.”

“Yeah, I don’t do well with implicit.” She taps her finger against the bell on the desk. “But I’m ringing you in for a dinner break, so go look who’s waiting for you and come back with something great, will you?”

Sharing a tour bus with a bunch of men was less mortifying than working with Alex.

But he does as she says, he stops playing with the button of his jacket and moves over to the entrance door. His family did not inherit this hotel; Uncle Yifeng was over the moon and proud of what he had done with wit and hard work. Luxurious for what it was when it started, the three stars and a half that dangle in front of the hotel are his Uncle’s north, and the reason why he asks Sicheng to work so hard.

The humid night of fall caresses his skin with dampness. He can already feel the pores drying up the slightest when the door closes behind him, leaving him with the soft gush of the cold wind. One look to his left and he sees nobody, one look to his right and he sees a face that he had met just six…five days ago.

With a gray graphic tee tucked inside a pair of baggy black jeans, she looks like a gleaming dot under the moonlight. Though, it could be the twinkle in her eyes when she sees him, rushing to him with a covered canvas propped under her arm. He would have never guessed her to be an artist, but if the yellow paint on her collarbone and the canvas are anything to go by, she seems like it.

He recalls her name, enough for him to breathe it out when she approaches him. That catches her off guard, the wind moving the two strands of hair she has put outside of her ponytail to frame her face.

“Any more lies you want to tell or have you consumed your Pinocchio coupon?” Sicheng encounters. What a greeting, he wants to tell himself, but he was put in a position that he didn’t quite like, neither did he dislike it. It was uncomfortable, at best, a plea of someone who was not entirely happy with how her life turned out.

She free hand spreads on top of her hip. “Geez, how about greeting somebody with a ‘Good night, how are you doing? You seem cold. How long have you been waiting here?’”

Sicheng’s eyes rake down her body. Not that she’s bad looking to the eye—quite the contrary. Every portion of her molds and curves to what he would compare to comfort. A beauty that doesn’t blind, neither does it leave anyone uninterested.

“You don’t look cold.”

“I’m not.” She answers, tilting her chin upward and sighing deeply. “I do have more lies to tell, however.”

Sicheng hums. “Is that why you’re here?”

“You’re my fake boyfriend of a week and I have to go to a dinner party with some friends next week so—”

“Say we broke up.” Sicheng completes, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m…I’m not sure you realize I did you a favor. We’re two strangers and—”

“You already know my name. I know yours.”

“That’s not enough for a relationship.” Sicheng sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your friends will understand. It’s not the first time anyone precipitates with a decision and it ends up turning bad.”

He’s quite knowledgeable in the subject, mind him. He hasn’t made the best decisions these past few years.

“Well, none of my relationships last long and I want to prove them wrong.” She starts, moving closer to him. “Sicheng, I don’t know if you’ve ever gone through this but there’s nothing more frustrating than having people think you follow patterns. Your own friends expect from you to always do the same and never grow, and sure, this growth won’t be real…but is it that bad of me to want my best friend to have something to talk to me about again? Even if it’s our relationships and just having a long-term, serious thing with a guy.” She stops on her tracks, the whistle of the wind the only sound heard between them. “I miss her. I miss us. And I want to have that back. Feel like time didn’t leave me behind.”

Shit. Sicheng should turn on the heels of his old sneakers and just pretend that he’s not seeing her in the rawest form one can find a person in. Talking about their insecurities, longing for a friendship…he knows the feeling all-too-well. The loneliness that comes with leaving all we know behind.

“I’ll pay you.” She continues at his silence, and he raises his eyebrows until there is a crease on his forehead. “I don’t have money but I swear I’ll pay you.”

Judging by the look on her face alone, money is tight for her. Sicheng sighs, deepening his pockets while hiding his hands in them. “Do you have a car?”

“Yes.” She complies, pointing a hand at the hold thing parked not too far away.

“I’m not too fond of driving and I have a music festival I want to go to in January. Three months from now. I could take the bus since it’s just, like, six hours away but that’s boring and I honestly want the road-trip to be comfortable so…” He trails his voice. “Take me to the music festival on January 9th and we’ll be settled. I have an extra ticket. I don’t mind it.”

“…Is that it?”

“Or a million dollars to be Gong Yoo for three months. You decide.” Sicheng retorts softly, trying to keep his features at bay. “We can break up after the festival. Say you caught me texting some chick or something. It’ll be fine.”

She jumps on the sole of her feet, a smile so big it could outshine the full moon if she put her force into it. She lurks for something on her pocket, careful not to drop her canvas as she places a small, wrinkled piece of paper on his hand.

He opens it. It has her number and an address.

“That’s the studio I’m usually in every morning from eight to eleven. I’m an artist. I’ll have a whiteboard ready for when you want to come around and we can outline what we’re going to be pretend to be for when the dinner comes around next week.”

What kind of situation he had gotten himself in?

Sicheng nods once, moving the paper in between his index and middle finger. “I’ll have a say on the story, too. I don’t want to be a sappy, PDA loving boyfriend. I’m not like that.”

“Works for me.” She answers, turning around and looking over her shoulder. “Just…show up, okay?”

He sees her move through the streets with the careful zoom of her car, but she leaves a tingle within him. Perhaps, the look-out of something different in a mundane life.

### 

WEDNESDAY: MAY 1ST, 2019.

There was something special about looking at Yuta.

A different outlook in life was perceived just from the lead singer’s face alone. Ten almost always stood next to him on stage when they performed on bars, shirtless and with just a jacket on, dense eyeliner matching the red-haired singer to give something to look forward to in the band. Yet, as much as Yuta smirked into the microphone and used his powerful vocals to make himself stand out from within any crowd, getting cheers from the drunken youth that could barely understand their lyrics, there was something refreshing about seeing him after practice.

Sicheng sits behind his drums, playing absentmindedly as Yuta lifts the stand of his microphone high in the air like a warrior would do with a sword, only to say:

“I’m the king of the motherfucking world.” He announces, the sleeve of his tank top falling off one shoulder as he quirks one leg on top of one of the guitar amplifiers in the practice room they rent. Mark has left his guitar plugged and Yuta takes care of that. “You’ll understand it when you fall in love, Sicheng. This woman is driving me absolutely crazy and I’m not too good in the head, if I do say so myself.”

Sicheng chuckles, stopping his ministrations on the drums and letting his hands hang in between his thighs as he holds the sticks. “It’s good to see you like that for once. I’ve seen too many girlfriends in the time that I’ve known you.”

“None of them like her.” He uses the microphone stand to poke Sicheng’s nose, which the drummer slaps away. Yuta cackles, running a hand through his red hair. “You know, Sicheng? I feel like this is going to be our year. I can feel it in my bones.”

He can feel it, too. In the happiness, the electricity, the outcome of the new band.

Yes, this will be their year.

###

Art with food is not the most common form of art. Actually, most parents tell their children not to play with their food, even less to make figures with it, but she never really listened to what others had to say about her expression of soul.

Soyeon, a nice old-lady, had been sweet enough to let her use the studio above her pizza place to be able to work on her art. As long as she didn’t touch the leftovers from her restaurant, they were on good terms. Each morning, she relished on the sight that passed through the windows, even when the late-night-partying leftovers that came with Itaewon slipped through the creaks of the glass. Sometimes she’d see a drunk man on the street, other times teenagers sneaking away from the parties. It wasn’t refreshing, but the sun was.

What a pity that winter was just around the corner.

Her knees dug into the wooden flooring, using the crushed, old and rotten peanuts to make the image of a client. Sure, it’s not the most romantic thing in the world to make someone out of peanuts, but it was some kind of talent and it took hours. It was her expertise, the pen and paper being far too mundane for her liking.

On that Tuesday morning, there is a knock on the door. She hums, thinking it must be Soyeon asking her—as per usual—if she had stolen tomatoes from her kitchen. She never has, but that’s the only way Soyeon can slip into a conversation about her daughters’ romantic lives and how she wishes they were more like her. According to her, Soyeon’s daughters took up their mom’s flirty side and they can’t keep anyone under their belt without getting tired of them.

Like most people these days, to be honest.

However, the steps sound different. It’s not the drag of the old soles of the flip flops Soyeon loves to use, but careful steps instead. She looks away from the eyes that she is creating to look at the person that entered, and much to her surprise, Sicheng is there in a different attire of what she usually sees him in.

He looks way better out of that unfitted, antique uniform.

A black t-shirt covers his body, dusted in the logo of a band she doesn’t recognize. It looks like it is either rock or metal, but she’s not certain. His jeans are not ripped, but they cling to his physique way better than his uniform does. He has let his black hair fall on his forehead, different from the pushed-back look he uses when working, and now, he’s standing with the blankest face he can muster.

“Are those…peanuts?”

She swallows, sitting up and resting her hands on her knees. “You don’t have a peanut allergy, do you?”

“No.” Sicheng completes. “But it’s not like I’m going to eat them off the floor.”

There it is, the Sicheng she knows but also doesn’t. One can start to expect things from him at this point. He moves closer, interlocking his hands behind his back when looking at what she is working on from above.

“…I’m gluing them to the canvas, don’t worry. They wouldn’t ever go near your mouth.” She wipes some sweat off her head when she stands up, fixing the ponytail that is falling off her hair. “So, good morning, how are you doing? You look rather thirsty, Sicheng. May I serve you some coffee? I think pleasantries can be exchanged between us without using one liners as the start of our conversations.”

Sicheng sighs, pressing his lips together before closing his eyes tightly. “Good morning.” His voice is sweet when he says those words, soon after jutting a finger to the corner of the room, near the windowsill. “That’s the board you talked about?”

She had prepared today. Post-it notes rest on one of her tables, ready to be plastered on the board. A few markers and she’s ready to learn more about Sicheng.

And vice-versa.

Yikes.

“Indeed,” She moves closer to the board, lending him a black marker. “The white post-it notes are facts about me. The green post-it notes are facts about you. The pink post-it’s, facts about us as a couple.”

“Alright.” Sicheng grabs his pile of post-it notes in green and she does just the same. “You’re an artist.”

“Yes.” She jots that down, including the adjective ‘food’ before artist. “I graduated as an art major a year and a half ago. Been working selling portraits made out of decomposed, yet non-smelly, food for people online. It doesn’t give me big numbers but it makes me happy.”

Sicheng nods. “How did you even think of making portraits out of food?”

“I’m a picky eater and I get bored at dinners.” She completes, shrugging her shoulders. “What about you? Are you a valet?”

“No.” Sicheng replies, writing down on his post-it and stamping it next to hers. “Landlord, or so. I work for my uncle and he calls it a landlord. I basically keep peace around the hotel, make sure people are paying, that they don’t hide in rooms to stay. All that.”

“Cool.” She answers, not knowing what else to say. “Did you go to college?”

“No, I was doing something else when I was supposed to go to college.”

“Landlord-ing?”

That brings a chuckle out of him. The sound is precious, a little bit high for his deep voice. “I was in a band. We broke it off a year ago. Or well, rather, I left the band.”

She steals one of his post-its, writing that down because it is important. Damn amazing, actually. “A band? Were you popular?”

“Around the Seoul area, kind of.”

“What were you called? Were you the singer?”

That makes him stumble in his words, getting rigid upon the questions. He takes a note and writes quickly, pressing it on the board. She reads ‘The Outcast Club’s Drummer. 2019-2021’.

“Too much about me.” Sicheng whispers, clearing his voice. “What about the two people I saw you with? Are they your friends?”

“From college, precisely.” She adds, watching as he puts it on post it notes. “Dohwan was friends with both of us. I met Daeri on my first day of college; she was my roommate and she was absolutely terrified of sleeping with the lights on. I had to keep them on and stay with her just so she could sleep. We all met that year.” Her voice grows dull. “I had a crush on Dohwan then, but—”

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re trying to take your best friend’s man!”

The repulsion in Sicheng’s tone has her groaning. “No, God! I would never! I’m past that crush and I love Daeri. I’m just awfully jealous of how easily things go well for her. For him. For anyone but me.”

She toys with the edge of her post-its, and Sicheng somehow sympathizes with her. He understands it—how the world moves when someone is utterly stuck. He plasters a post-it note about what she just said, before looking at the board.

“Relationship with your parents?” He asks.

“Could be better. Yours?”

“Good.” He answers, putting two more notes on the board. “How would such different people have met?”

She sighs deeply. “I’m not good with literature. Can’t expect me to come up with a story on my own.”

“I asked you for a portrait of my mom made out of flowers. I don’t know, edible flowers. I won’t have my mom made out of peanuts or corn in our story.” Sicheng brings a smile up her features and he has to fight one of his own. “I contacted you online but when I came to pick up the piece, because I was around town, we got to meet. Then, I asked you for coffee.”

She moves her lips to one side. “I’m not a big fan of coffee.”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be ice cream. We have to look like adults.”

“We’ll settle for tea.” She conquers. “Then, since I couldn’t get the idea of your face out of my head, I took the number you gave me when you made the order and I texted you.”

Sicheng tilts his head to the side, the tips of his ears growing pink when he continues putting the notes of their story down. “And I answered.”

“Well, no shit, we’re in a relationship.”

A fake one, he’d correct her, but he lets her be.

“You asked me out on a date.” She continues, only to have him frowning.

“Why does it have to be me? You texted and I already invited you to some tea.”

“I’m not the kind to ask out on dates.”

“Neither am I.”

“We coincidentally met somewhere on the street.”

“…That sounds like it’s taken out of Netflix drama.”

“I wish.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Alright, I asked you out on a date and I was an anxious wreck until you answered and we went out on that one date. Then another. Then a third, then you asked me.” She raises a finger in the air. “And you were the one that asked me, it can’t always be me.”

Sicheng laughs at her antics. “Alright, I asked you.”

“Day that we started dating.”

“Two weeks from now. Like October 11th?”

“Sounds fair.” She perks up then. “Oh, when’s your birthday?”

“October 28th.”

“So, tomorrow?”

He hums, not saying anything else. Not that he doesn’t celebrate it with anybody other than his parents, scared of getting too close to anyone anymore. “I think we have a good outline.” He clasps his hands together. “In three months from now, this will be nothing.”

“It sounds tragic when you say it like that.” She turns to the board, sighing deeply. “…Thank you for doing this, Sicheng.”

“Huh, we can only hope it’ll be fun, right?”

“Of course!” She lively says, but at this point, a voice within Sicheng’s head tells him this could also be fucking complicated if he doesn’t control it well.

“I better get going.” He adds, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Text me where I have to be and I’ll see you there…girlfriend.”

“That’s another thing. You’ll have to call me a pet name and vice versa.” She licks her bottom lip. “What about ‘love’?”

The name brings a shiver down his spine and Sicheng has to shake his head, moving over to the door with quick strides. “I’d rather be just Sicheng.” He finalizes, sparing a look over his shoulder to see the confused features on her face. “…See you around.”

### 

Sweetie, her name would be sweetie.

Even when nothing about her is dulcet on first glance, that is the name he thinks about as she stands beside him on the elevator that leads to the spot her friends had invited her to. He can’t believe the power his eyes have, or even the audacity, as he steals a glance to the way she dressed that night. It’s a white and yellow flower-patterned maxi skirt that ends a little above her ankles, a golden long-sleeved shirt with a few lace patterns tucked underneath the skirt. It crumbles a bit thanks to the wrong folding, but grabbing her waist to fix it for her is not what he’s about to do.

He should tell her that she looks nice, instead, he only listens to the commands that she says. “We enters with our hands interlocked and for the love of God, don’t rip Dohwan’s hand when shaking it. He’s a really nice guy and—”

“And a bit pompous, come on.” Sicheng adds, only to have her side-eyeing him. “I know he is your friend, but your friends are high-society copies. I’ve met people like this a hundred times at the hotel.”

“I assume you break all of their hands.”

“I couldn’t even if I tried. I don’t hit the gym as much as your friends do.” He adds, placing his hand in between them and facing his palm upwards for her to grab. She looks at it and he has to sigh. “I promise not to break your hand.”

“I—I know but…” She plays with her hands a bit, chuckling. “It’s just…uh…weird, you know, we don’t really know each other that much and—”

“You’re thinking about what I told you days ago just now? Just when I accepted and I put on cologne and a button down, really?”

She sniffs once, getting closer to him and sensing the scent that radiates from the collar of his white button down. He looks away, only to have her humming.

“It’s a nice cologne, yes. Doesn’t make this situation any less awkward.” Though, she grabs his hand with his, her hold soft while their fingers intertwine. The comfortable touch has him connect his gaze to hers. “For such rough mannerisms with Dohwan, you have very soft hands.”

“You never give up, don’t you?”

“I don’t.” She answers, watching as the elevator doors roll open. “I think that’s my grandest flaw.”

Though, once they step inside, a bass heavy song fills the air, making them stop in their tracks. People bustle around like sardines in a can, dancing far too close with each other in a phase that reads—in neon lights—the name Aphrodite in the very back.

“Oh, this is not…not a restaurant.” She complies, blinking slowly while inspecting around. “…It’s a club.”

Sicheng rests a hand on her back when pushing her forward, using his body to shield her from the dancing drunken bodies. “Not just any club. It’s one of those love clubs people come to hook up with each other.” His breath ghosts on top of her head, looking around for her friends. “Why would they invite us here?”

“This is Dohwan’s kind of scene.” Some things never change and it is only proved when she sees Dohwan standing on top of the bar’s table, a whiskey bottle pouring its content into his well-parted mouth as he smiles into the drink. “I’m supposing he’s the one that invited us.”

“Jadey! My little jade!” Daeri moves through the crowd and wraps her arms around her shoulders in a tight hug, not missing a beat to do the same with Sicheng. “I didn’t think you’d come. You’re here late. Come, come. I will ask for some drinks.”

Daeri leads them to the seats under where Dohwan is standing, and his fiancé pats a hand against his calf.

“Come on, party animal. The invitees have arrived.”

“Guys!” Dohwan beams when he sits down at the edge of the counter, waving a hand to the bartender. “I’m so happy you’re here. I didn’t think you’d be actually able to bring your boyfriend along.”

Sicheng doesn’t like the sound of those words, so he leans back on his seat, parting his legs and keeping his hand on her back. “I can’t find a reason why I wouldn’t come with her.”

“Ooh,” Daeri coos after speaking to the bartender. Sicheng takes this time to order his drink, a simple beer. His companion mimics his motions. “It’s nice to finally hear someone tell you the things you deserve to be told, babe.”

“Yes…” Dohwan trails, quirking the corner of his mouth. “So, Sicheng, you move well through clubs. Any frat parties past left behind you now?”

“Not really. I had a band. We performed in places like these.” Sicheng completes, tossing his head back to take a sip of his beer. “You were in a frat?”

“Yes. Our little friend over here had to come pick me up every once in a while.” Dohwan wraps an arm around her, pressing the sides of their heads together and earning laughter from Daeri.

He doesn’t laugh. There’s something about Dohwan that is far too much for him.

“I’d never get her to dance, though. She was always against it.”

“Oh, come on, you were the life of the party. I would have been the center of attention if I tried.”

Sicheng takes another sip of his beer, looking into her eyes with their hands interlocked over his thigh. “So, what if we danced now? For old times’ sake.”

“A—Are you for real?” She questions, voice soft and Sicheng nods.

“Oh, come on! Yes, yes, yes, this needs to happen!” Daeri claps her hands together, bringing her friend up her feet only to push her towards Sicheng’s hold. “We’ll be over here, you two little lovebirds. Don’t mind us.”

“Sicheng…” She seethes, looking up at him. “I didn’t dance because I am not a good dancer.”

“Who tells you I am?”

He’s moving her patiently through the crowd, as if finding the perfect spot to be away from the two other companions, only to have her scoffing. “Your confidence in doing this. You’re acting like one of those alpha males—”

“Not at all.” Sicheng turns around, taking her forearms and placing her hands on his shoulders. He looks at her through hooded eyes. “You’re just living through Dohwan. Letting everyone shine but you because you’re happy seeing them shine and that’s okay, but for once, you need to have fun and not think about what your friends did and you didn’t.”

“I’ll make a fool of myself.”

His body presses to hers, abdomen to abdomen, as one of his breaths initiates one of her own. “What about it? No one will remember us here. Being anonymous, not getting known, that’s the magic of being normal. Use it to your favor.”

For someone so rigid in her stance of not trying new things, she looks gorgeous from the view Sicheng gets. He’s dancing to the beat of the song, swinging his body from side to side softly, letting his hand rest on her back and guiding her to mimic his motions. She follows through, a little awkwardly and hiding her face in his chest with bawled fists, but he won’t have this.

She doesn’t realize that this friendship she has consists of feeling like less than her friends.

“Don’t hide.” Sicheng lets out, resting his chin on top of her head. “You don’t look as bad as you imagine, actually.”

“Those are some words to tell your girlfriend.”

“Huh, I haven’t had one of those in a while. Grant me a pass.” His fingers thread under her chin, making her look at him as he gives her a smile. “What does one say in this situation?”

“How would I know? I only know what I’d like to hear.”

“Mhm, women.” He answers sarcastically, earning an eye-roll for her and a slap to his chest. “Then, what would you like to hear?”

“That I don’t look like a clown.”

“Don’t know. The red lips give me a bit of Pennywise vibes.” Sicheng jokes around, only to have her chuckling at his words. “I’m joking. You actually look…quite nice under this light.”

“Under this light? God, how long have you gone without a girlfriend?”

That finally makes him laugh and if Sicheng has learned anything this year is not to grant smiles just to anybody. Though, how can one not do it when in a situation like this with her? He twirls her around, their bodies meeting at the middle again before he sighs.

“I’ll learn. Give me time.”

She looks into his eyes for a second longer, responding: “I bought you a gift. For your birthday. It already passed but I hadn’t been able to see you and…” She lurked inside the pocket of her skirt, showing him a tiny, shiny bag. “It’s a rose necklace. I didn’t know what else to give you, but I felt like that reminded me of you.”

“You…You shouldn’t have.” Sicheng whispers, letting go of her body to open the little bag through squinted eyes. When he gets the necklace out, a prickly rose as a pendant has him smiling softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“Someone over here is good looking himself but has too many locks in his exterior.” She announces, interlocking her hands on his nape. “I wonder if getting close means getting pricked, too.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Guys!” Daeri squeals from not too far away, holding her phone up towards where they are, taking pictures with a flash. “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Yes, Sicheng will have to get used to her friends, that’s for sure.

### 

The trashcan Sicheng dares call an apartment is quite cozy at times. When he gets home after a long night shift at work and he can finally release himself from the confines of that goddamned uniform, for example. Or albeit, when he can sit down and eat a good burger for dinner, like he should be doing right now as he goes up the set of stairs and holds onto a paper bag with fries, two kinds of sauces and two burgers.

Tonight will be good.

Or so he thought, all memories of a good night crushed when he reaches his floor and sees a woman seated right in front of his door. He recognizes her faintly, a face that he had seen in shows in the past. Perhaps, one of those fans that were in love enough to come to more of their presentations, but he cannot put a name to her. Her bleached blonde hair cascades down her back in dirty strands, standing up and pulling down the edge of her denim jeans when a big smile appears on her features.

“My God! I finally found you!” He doesn’t know how or why. Sicheng doesn’t want to be found, neither does he want to be connected to that band that used to consist of his friends. Not anymore. He tries to move past her, open the door to his apartment and not have to talk about it, but she grasps into his hand. “Come on, we…we have to find the boys. The band’s not the same without you!”

He closes his eyes tightly, pressing his forehead against the door as he tries to slit the key through the doorknob. “Please, let go of me or I’ll have to call the police.”

“What?” Her voice becomes tiny, the fan moving a step back before she shakes her head. “This isn’t you, Sicheng!”

“You don’t know me.” He finalizes, opening the door with quick motions and slipping inside just as he feels her fists bumping against the door.

“Sicheng, we have to talk!”

His heart leaps at his throat. Yuta and Ten were always better with this; they’d give a glance to the fans and they would know where to stand and how to do so. They held some kind of respect towards them, but not with him. Not with the guy who decided to depart from the band that he even called his brothers.

His fingers shake when he puts the bag down and he settles on bed, locking the door behind him and kneeling into the bed to grasp his phone and jot down the one number he keeps on a paper in his pocket.

The phone rings two times before he hears a lively voice.

“Good night, who am I talking to?”

Of course, she believes in those pleasantries and he’d love to grant them to her some other time, but this is not the moment. “T—There’s a fan at my door. It’s Sicheng. A fan of the band I used to be part of is by my door and I’m scared. She doesn’t want to leave me alone.”

He speaks too quickly and he hates the sound of his voice. Even more so, he despises that he has no one to talk to but a fake girlfriend instead.

“Gosh,” He hears her moving on the other end of the call and then, comes sprinting. “Send me the address, I’ll be there in no time. Promise!”

“Please…just…come.”

Sicheng tries to busy himself by eating, toying with the fries and tossing them inside his burger to grab another bite, but his heart is racing. He remembers the good and the bad. The moments in which he had three pair of hands to hold, just like the moments he had to let them go because he could not be trusted anymore. He saw the disappointment in the eyes of the fans and in the people he loved.

Tossing his head back, he looks at the ceiling. He’s not a bad person, that much he knows. He doesn’t want to be good either. Good is stupid. Good is what had him losing everything to his own innocence.

Then, he hears the mingle of voices just outside his door.

He takes careful steps out of his bedroom, heightening his senses by getting closer to the door only to hear her voice rather clearly.

“No, you hear me out. I don’t want my boyfriend to get stalked by some freak. He left the band, yes, get the fuck over it. There’s more to life than being a band’s groupie, come on.”

“How dare you?” The fan seethes and he hears a gasp coming from his fake girlfriend. “You don’t know how important this band was to Sicheng.”

“You don’t know him like I do.” She replies seriously. “Out.” She starts, though her voice gets louder. “Out, I said! I don’t want to see you here!”

“Fine!” The fan shouts back and he starts to hear footsteps at the moment that his mortified expression changes into a grin. She did that, the woman that he is getting to know had been brave enough to shout at a stranger like that just for him.

When he opens the door, he sees her in a new light. Not that she had not ever been casted down by this aurora of angelic bliss, but now, it’s far stronger. Without knowing, he’s wrapping his arms around her shoulders, caging her against his chest like his life depends on it. Her cheek squishes against the fabric of his sweater, hands bawled by his collarbones.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, not measuring his words when he pulls away and looks into her eyes. Surprised doesn’t cut it, she’s more than that. “Uh, I saved you a burger.”

Little does she know that he eats both burgers, but he’ll grant her one just for the sake of it. “O—Okay. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Better now.” She eyes his face, but he doesn’t want to let her know anymore. Not now. “So…crispy chicken burgers are fine with you?”

She closes the door behind her, clearing her throat. “Well, almost throwing hands at somebody made me hungry, so I’ll take up your offer.”

Eating with her while seated on the kitchen island shouldn’t feel as comfortable as it did.

### 

SATURDAY: MARCH 7th, 2021.

“Guys, guys, guys! It’s time we chill out, alright? We are not like this.”

No matter how far away Mark hold his hands out to separate the singer and the drummer, the rampant fire behind tearful eyes as he struggles against Ten’s hold to reach out for Sicheng. Not that he moves; not closer to Yuta or far away. He’s static, watching as his best friend burns and aches for a woman he thought he loved, as well.

How was he supposed to know that the groupie that appeared backstage from time to time, giving him sweet smiles and caresses to his shoulder, was also doing the same with Yuta? How could he have been so blind that he had not realized that Yuta did not have anything else in his life other than this band? And, of course, the almost two-year-long relationship he has with whom Sicheng thought he had a relationship with.

“Yuta, get the fuck back here!” Ten shouts, grabbing Yuta’s forearm before he could launch his fist towards Sicheng, but he knows him. Yuta’s emotional, but not quite as volatile as one would imagine him to be. But his heartbreaks, stoked one over the other, tumble down in a way that makes him feel life is ending when everything goes wrong.

“I trusted you.” He smacks his hand against his thigh when letting it fall, running his digits through his hair soon after and tugging at the blood red strands. “And you go around and do this?”

“I didn’t know.” Sicheng finally speaks, low and clear, only to have Yuta shaking his head.

“How couldn’t you have known? She was always around. Stop fucking lying.” Yuta turns to look at him, giving him a spoonful of his mind. “We’ve been together for two years, Sicheng!”

“And we’ve been friends since we were kids. How in the world would I have tried to steal your girlfriend?” Sicheng points out, pressing his index finger to his chest with every word he punctuates after. “I didn’t know.”

No one says a thing, and just one look in Yuta’s eyes tells him that he doesn’t believe him. Some skyscrapers fall with the force of the wind, of a mere spring day, and this is that moment. The fallout of what could have been.

“…I’ll make things easier for you.” Sicheng completes, sniffling to stop the tears that threaten to drop from his eyes. Grabbing his drumsticks, he puts them inside his backpack, closing the zipper in one motion. “I won’t be part of the band anymore.”

“Sicheng, come on, don’t take it like that—” Ten tries to get close to him, but Sicheng shakes his head.

“I don’t have any friends here who believe me, so why stay?”

Even someone as talkative as Ten had nothing to say after that.

### 

Dong Sicheng, from up close, could cause chaos, ruckuses, and everything that can be imagined.

It has been a month since their little lie began to unravel, and she’s still surprised that no one has caught up on it. With Daeri’s birthday taking place in her early-Christmas decorated home, he blinds any of the invitees with one of those smiles that she rarely gets to see. He gets asked more questions than her; the new interesting addition to her life that has people wanting to know even the most intricate detail about him.

Good thing that Sicheng doesn’t let anyone know more than the necessary. Including her.

He’s wearing a burgundy sweater that clashes against his slim body elegantly, curved in the abdomen thanks to his position against one of Daeri’s elegant walls. The gray wallpaper makes him stand out and she has to do her best to pretend she’s not ogling him from his side, half-laying on her hip to look at him. His digits are still wrapped around the heated mug that Daeri had served him, filled with hot cocoa, but she’s waiting for the moment those plush lips end up wrapped around the ceramic.

He crosses one leg over the other when their friend-who-is-not-a-friend is gone when his eyes catch something across the room. It seems to get his attention, because the frown on his features soften and the left corner of his lip lifts up.

Sicheng whispers: “Something’s been bothering me.” There is an undertone to his voice that she can’t understand, but she nods at his words. “How long did you and…Dohwan date?”

What the hell?

Her mouth opens and closes several times before shaking her head. “W—We didn’t date, at all!”

“I’m not judging!” Sicheng mumbles back, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m just saying. You mentioned you had a crush on him some other time, and come on, if you were college friends…you probably hooked—”

“My God.” She places a hand on top of his mouth, warm from the drink…or because it’s him. This awfully kissable yet somewhat non-understandable man. “Let me get this straight, you’re asking because…”

“Because…” Sicheng trails after pushing her hand away, but he clasps his digits around her wrist, keeping it in between the two of them. “I can’t ask now? I’m your boyfriend right now, if you don’t recall.”

There’s a whine to his tone, and she has to frown. Why exactly is he pointing this out? “Are you…jealous?”

He shakes her wrist, frowning in the process. “I couldn’t possibly be that.”

“Then, why?”

“Not everything needs an explanation.”

She coos at that. “Means I don’t have to explain myself when it comes to my friend.”

“Oh, come on, he has this kind of confidence to him. As if he thinks you wouldn’t be able to get someone else other than him.” Sicheng reiterates, and if she is not losing her goddamned mind, he just rolled his eyes. “So?”

“So, we didn’t date.” She confesses, pulling her wrist away from him and sighing deeply. “It was just a kiss on the corner of my mouth, you know, he was drunk…he kept offering to kiss me, I couldn’t quite believe it. Nothing else happened. Ever.”

Sicheng remains silent for a few seconds, only to be interrupted by Daeri, whose bun on top of her head shakes with every shouted word she says:

“Time to cut the cake, you guys!”

Though, that only makes her drink her hot cocoa in more of a rush, causing for her mouth to burn at the scalding drink. A hiss escapes her, watched and heard by Sicheng who immediately lowers his gaze to her mouth.

“Are you okay?”

“I just burnt myself!”

Unlike the Sicheng she thinks she is getting to know, he hooks his finger on her chin, looking around the room carefully to make sure the attention isn’t on them before she feels it. His plush lips pressing to the corner of her mouth that she had burnt, softly, so brief and sweet that it was as though she had not felt it. Then, leaving her as confused as he always does, he grabs her hand, interlocks their fingers together and says:

“Let’s go sing happy birthday.”

Happy birthday my ass, she wants to say.

Some things shouldn’t go unfinished, and Sicheng’s kisses seem to be one of them.

### 

He’ll admit it. He’s a nerd about a few things. Music is one of them.

So, when he heard that a limited edition of a pair of drumsticks signed by his favorite drummer were going to be sold at the mall, he opted to wait right outside the store at night. Even when it was closed and December was rolling just around the corner, leaving the dew of the upcoming rain right behind his trail.

She shouldn’t be here, he thinks, as he sits in front of the store with his back perched against the glassed door. Yet, it’s like his fake girlfriend can’t seem to leave him alone for things that she considers matter for him. The jacket she had worn that night is not thick enough for the weather, leaving her as a shivering mess as she brings her knees up to her chest.

“Explain to me.” Her teeth clatter the slightest when speaking, turning to look at him with her cheek squished against her knees. “What’s so important about a pair of drumsticks?”

Sicheng tosses his head back, releasing a smile into the sky as he thinks about that question. It definitely was important, but not as much as it used to be years ago. When releasing a dream, one begins to understand there is more to this world than being what we expect out of ourselves. He takes his phone out of his coat’s pocket, leaving him only with his jacket when he places the garment on top of her shoulders.

She tries to shrug it off, but he clicks his tongue. “You take it off and I won’t wear it.” Sicheng carefully threatens, then, he starts looking through his phone. “And about what you asked for, it started when I was in high school, I guess. I had a friend, Kunhang, who was in drum lessons and I tagged along. Then, when he had to move away for college, he left me his spot in the band. That’s how I got to get closer to the other guys.” In that part of his gallery that he never shows, he has the videos of the performances, the practices, and everything that made him feel alive once.

“..I see.” She whispers, leaning closer to his side and hiding the tip of her fingers under the fabric of his sleeve. The hairs on his arms stand up, but he concentrates on the phone instead. “What are you going to show me?”

He clicks on a video with an ugly black and white filter, where they can hear and see him working on the drums. It’s an old cover from a Japanese band Yuta loved since he was twelve years old, and he’s quite proud of the outcome. It got more than a hundred thousand views on YouTube.

“Whoa…” She coos, every word she says breathed out on the side of his face, making his gaze trail away from the phone to her profile. She’s gorgeous, even from up close. “You look so cool, Sicheng. Why have you stopped doing that?”

The knot on his throat grows bigger and he has to look away, locking his phone and putting it face down on his thigh before sighing. “You won’t look at me the same way if I tell you.”

Her grip doesn’t falter from his sleeve, scoffing at his words. “If you tell me you killed all of your bandmates, I won’t believe a word you say, Sicheng.”

“I didn’t.” Sicheng reiterates, trying to fight back a smile. Then, he turns to look at her, pressing a hand on top of her hidden one. “The lead singer, Yuta, had a girlfriend of two years I knew about but didn’t personally know.” He starts. “…And I coincidentally met a fan, a groupie, whatever it is that you call them, when I was playing in one of our shows. She’d always slip in backstage and we started getting along then. Chaeyoung was like that, could have anyone wrapped around her finger if she wanted to.”

She nods, and Sicheng continues to tell his story.

“So, the moment I tried to introduce my new girlfriend to Yuta and the guys, we both realized we were dating the same woman. He thought I had stolen her from him, instead of thinking that she was cheating on both of us.” The explanation has her eyes widening a fraction of a second before they soften, speaking his name in a low tone. “He didn’t believe me, and I felt like the guys didn’t, as well. I left the band before it could get any worse.”

“God…Sicheng…” She mumbles, placing her chin on top of his shoulders, faces far too close…but that’s the thing about her. She doesn’t realize just how her kindness makes his heart skip a bit.

That’s stupid to say, right? They have a month and some days left together.

“If it works for you, I believe you.” Her eyelashes flutter softly, covered in the humidity of winter.

Nice doesn’t cut it for how great it feels to be told that.

“Yeah…” He pats his hand against hers. “I like the sound of that.”

### 

Her lipstick has disappeared into another dimension. That’s the newsflash.

“I—I’ll be ready in a second, Sicheng. I just…” She keeps flickering through her purse and her makeup bag, to no avail. Where’s her favorite red lipstick? Only the universe knows. Though, give her some credit, it’s damn hard to find anything when there is a handsome man sprawled on her bed face down, leaning his cheek on his forearm and looking at her with a sleepy gaze. He has been waiting for over thirty minutes in that position, after all. “I need my lipstick.”

“I’ll help you look.” Sicheng stands up then, running a hand over his beige shirt and walking over to her vanity. She doesn’t pay much attention to him, lurking through her shelves and her bathroom, taking some extra time there.

When was the last time that she used it?

Though, it takes some looking around inside the bathroom to see that it had fallen on top of her dirty clothes pile. Fucking luck, she tells herself, clasping the tube in between her hands and looking at herself in the mirror, splaying the lipstick as well as she can in the outline of her mouth before filling it in. A few blotches with her finger and taking out the access by patting a napkin to her mouth and she was done. Opening the bathroom door again and turning off the light.

“Found it. I’m ready.” They should have already headed to the museum ‘date’ they were supposed to go to. She was going to be in the exhibition of a professor’s new collection, but that’s far from her worries now that she sees exactly what Sicheng has in his hands and what he’s doing with a smile on his face.

Listen, she’s a single woman. She has been single for a while now. There are things that only a few things can fulfill and reading is one of them. Romance books, perhaps the ones that are a bit steamy, are a nice change of pace for her nonexistent love life. Though, Sicheng seems to have the time of his life as he flickers to the next page, quirking an eyebrow as he coos to himself.

“Sicheng!” She squeals, knowing perfectly well what part of the book she had left it in and judging by the pink blush on his cheeks, he’s reading just that. She launches herself to his lap, trying to clasp the book in her hands only to have it taken away from her hold. “Give me that! That’s private!”

“He wrapped an arm around her hip, pulling her closer to his center, whispering in her ear—”

“Dong Sicheng!” She screams, not caring about the laughter that leaves his lips when she sits on his lap and tries to reach the book that he holds above his head. Her chest presses to his, the breaths of the laughter he leaves caressing her chin when she stands on her knees to be able to reach the book. “Don’t be reading my stuff!”

“It’s just getting to the good part. I didn’t think you’d be the kind to read porn.”

“Read porn?!” She questions, failing on her attempts of reaching the book and smacking her hand against his chest when he starts laughing. “That’s romantic literature, mind you. The fact that they have sex is not the reason why I read it.”

“You highlighted a few phrases here and there.”

“Because they are good quotes.”

“Quotes about a man foreshadowing to sex with a woman.”

“Oh, come on, as if you haven’t had sex.”

Those words make her notice just in what position they are in. One of Sicheng’s hands is next to her leg, both of her thighs straddling his thanks to her attempt to reach for her book. Her chest stands fairly close to his face, his soft breaths mingling with her own. They grow erratic, or it may have been her own breathing.

Sicheng closes the book then, keeping his thumb trapped in the page he was reading. “Uh…” He trails, inspecting her face. “You like these kinds of things?”

“Books like that?”

“No.” He shakes his head dizzily. “Men like these.”

I like this, she wants to tell him. There is nothing more than she’d wish for than to wrap her arms around his shoulders and plant a kiss on his lips, a memory of what could have been in Daeri’s birthday if only they had been braver. Instead, she tilts her head to the side.

“I like some of them. Not all. Some are written too…dominant and I don’t like an alpha male.” She confesses, trying to get off his lap only to feel his hand trapping the back of her left thigh, looking into her eyes when he says:

“Careful.” He whispers, though she knows there is no kind of danger to be ran just by getting off his lap. The touch alone electrifies her, making her press her red lips together.

This catches his attention. She knows when a man is looking at her lips.

Instead of kissing her, however, Sicheng puts the book down and presses a hand to her shoulder. “Don’t forget to bring a jacket with you. Let’s hurry up. It’s getting late.”

She’d rather be late if that meant getting to kiss him for good.

###

Sicheng is a tall wobbling figure in the night as he carries their luggage back to her car. His hair dusts in snowflakes of the remaining memories of December, just when January steps into its first week. The tip of his nose blares a vibrant red, accompanied by a sniffle when he opens the door and tosses the luggage inside.

Only when he is by her side, on this January 8th night, does he finally say something.

“All the rooms were taken up.” Sicheng announces, pressing the button beside his seat to lean it back. She watches him back down slowly, frowning at his words.

“We made a reservation.”

“Well, they forgot about us and the rooms are full.” There is exasperation in his tone. Meanwhile, she’s trying her hardest not to scoff. Sicheng looks up at the ceiling, a pair of glasses that she knows he needs to wear but never does resting on the bridge of his nose. “…And before you say you will drive us to the next motel we can sleep in, let me remind you we are two hours away from one and we’re tired from driving. I won’t let you.”

She clicks her tongue harmoniously. “So, you are trying to tell me we are sleeping in a car?”

“Not how I thought the night was going to go.” Sicheng finally turns to look at her, a twinkle in his eyes when he takes off his glasses and rubs at one of his eyelids. “Listen, I’m sorry. I will find the best hotel I can once we finally get to our destination, but this is as best as it gets. The comfort of your car.”

She sighs, mimicking his actions with the seat and turning to her side, inspecting his profile as he closes his eyes tightly. “Sicheng, you have that face on.”

“What face?”

“The one that tells me you’re not going to sleep feeling bad that we’re sleeping in my car.”

He opens his eyes then, the apples of his cheeks bobbing up with his tight-lipped smile when he turns to look at her. “So, we’re studying faces now.”

“Yours is easy to study.” She complies. “When you’re annoyed, you’re annoyed. When you’re happy, you’re happy. There’s no denying in everything you do.”

“I’ve studied your expressions, too.”

“Mhm.” She hums, frowning deeply. “So, how about this face?”

“The ‘I smelled a fart’ face.”

“Not at all. Unless you want to tell me something.”

Sicheng laughs at her words, reaching for a strand of her hair and playing with it for a second before letting go. “I know I already said it, but I’m really sorry—”

“Say sorry one more time and I’ll kick you out of my car.” She blows on her hands then, rubbing them together before letting out a small cough.

“You’re freezing.” Sicheng points out, sitting up on his seat before looking into her eyes.

“I’m not.”

“I can see you shivering.”

“You’re imagining it?” Her voice wavers the slightest and Sicheng has to roll his eyes. He pushes his weight to one side of the seat, patting his hand on the small spot next to him.

“Come lay here.”

She scoffs at his words. “I won’t fit, genius. You can barely fit there yourself.”

“Then, lay on me.” Sicheng shrugs his shoulders as if it’s the easiest thing to say. It’s tempting, she won’t lie, but the thought alone has the tip of her ears heating up. “Nothing will happen, I promise. You can sit on my lap, lay on my chest. We’ll be fine.”

She looks at him one last time, only to have him raising his hands on each side of his body, as if in defense. Her eyelids flutter shut, passing one thigh and then the other over the middle only to settle down on the small spot that Sicheng had opened up for her.

Surprisingly, she didn���t fit. And that’s not the verb she was imagining.

“See?” She tries not to think about it too much, quirking one leg up and hoisting it over Sicheng’s waist. She leaves the other one resting on the sliver of space left, her hand spreading on his shoulder. “Now, you’re going to have to deal with half my body weight on you.”

Sicheng hums, with his eyes closed and his digits resting on the back of her head. They make quick work on doing circular motions there, slow and meticulous, enough to have her back straightening, more of her skin pressing to him. “Like I said, I don’t mind.”

She doesn’t know what else to say. Instead, she lets her ear press to Sicheng’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Much different from how her heart is going crazy inside her chest.

“Our break-up is coming soon.” She announces, only to hear a new melody to Sicheng’s heart. Now, it rushes and he takes this time to stop his motions on her hair.

“Oh.” He doesn’t say much else at first, swallowing thickly. “S—So, have you thought about how you want it to happen?”

She doesn’t want it to happen, that’s the thing. Even when fake, Sicheng had been giving her—slowly, but surely—the kind of commodity she always expected out of a relationship. There is much more to unravel about each other, but she wouldn’t mind to do it one bit.

“We can always push it back.” She whispers, resting her hand on the one in her hair to try to get him to continue with his movements. He does, and she looks up at him to see his eyes open, but staring at the ceiling. “I…I don’t think…uh…that we should end it right now. Why? What for?”

“Yeah.” Sicheng mumbles, closing his eyes and squishing his cheek to the top of her head. “Two more weeks, how about that?”

She nods, letting her eyes close only to get lost in the feeling of him. The scent of that perfume she had given him on Christmas, too. “Yes, two more weeks sound perfect.”

###

The Outcast Club are right in front of him, and he wishes he could stay stoic. His eyes should not divert towards the newest drummer, whom is neither Kunhang nor himself, or to Ten as he works perfectly on the bass, with his hair sleeked back and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. Mark is as reserved as he gets on stage, all smiles and headbangs when he lets his fingers play the solo of their newest song.

The main focus goes to Yuta, leaning over the crowd of the festival and singing their songs on top of his lungs. He remembers when Yuta wrote this track; he was a little bit whiskey drunk, with his head tossed back as he made mistakes on Mark’s oldest acoustic guitar. He could barely scribble down the notes, but even when Sicheng coached him to go to sleep, he said he’d lose the melody. The inspiration.

Maybe, he wasn’t meant to be part of the band from the beginning. He didn’t have that mindset when it came to music.

His companion grounds him when she shouts at the top of her lungs, bringing a fist up and smiling through her set of red lips. He has to look at her, mostly because she holds some kind of hope. For him to know that he has not remained static all these years; there is somebody that spends time with him without thinking of anything else. Not his past, not what he could have been, what he should be…

“Come on, Sicheng!” She tells him, grabbing his wrists and turning him to her. He has to smile at her antics, at the dense eyeliner she had put on and the brightness of her beam. Even when outside it’s cold, the concert remains heated with the amount of people there. “Jump!”

And he does, mostly because he wants to bring good memories to something that he finds oh-so-bittersweet, but with each jump he matches to her own, the freer he feels. He doesn’t realize that he grabs onto her waist or that he pulls her closer. That her hands, as per usual, rest on his chest, but this time around, she doesn’t want to ball the fabric or give him a smack for saying something that she can’t argue about.

Instead, she looks at him with an expectation that steals his breath. This, this is what life wanted to bring him back with such heartbreak. Freedom, understanding, whatever this blossoming feeling in his chest is. He leans his lips down then, waiting for everything and nothing at the same time, but when he feels her lips clashing against his, he knows luck has struck on his side.

She tastes like the strawberry fuzzy drink she has in her left hand and her lips, much like her personality, want to take everything that surrounds her. Perhaps a bit selfish, but he grants it. His mouth molds against hers, trying his hardest to keep himself controlled when he feels her sigh against his mouth. As if she waited.

God, he had been waiting for this.

When she pulls away, she gives him the grandest smile he had seen, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. That’s when he returns the grin, feeling his skin heat up when he grants another look to the stage.

Yuta is by the stage, squinting his eyes at the two figures and that’s the moment Sicheng knows he was seen. He keeps his arm wrapped around her for leverage, but what comes next surprises him. The lead singer gives a tight-lipped smile, a bit lazy on his face, when he picks up his microphone and speaks into it.

“Let’s have a great night, will we? Remembering the good old times and the good ones that are to come. Every moment is valuable in our lives, no matter how it ended.”

He has to rest his head on her shoulder, not fighting back the happiness that bursts from within him.

Yuta may not hate him as much as he thought he did.

### 

Pick your poison. Never let it be a man.

Besides, it’s not like Daeri picked the best bridesmaid dress for her when her wedding came around. She looks like she’s about to pick strawberries from a field in the old west, with puffy blue sleeves and an uncomfortable waist that has her sighing in a few more times than necessary. Two more weeks, Sicheng promised, and now, he’s not here to accompany her to the grandest date of their arrangement.

He missed the wedding ceremony and now, she’s dipping her tongue in expensive wine in hopes of forgetting that he seemingly won’t come to the party, either. Dohwan keeps looking at his wife as if she’s the most beautiful woman in the world—and she is, obviously, Daeri couldn’t look more gorgeous even with tear-stained cheeks—but she needs to have less romance around her for her not to feel so bitter about Sicheng breaking a promise.

Wine can’t do magic tricks now, can it?

Dejun, one of the groomsmen, slips by her side at that moment, with an awkward smile on his pointy features and a movement of his eyebrows. “Uh, hi! Uh…would you like to have a dance with me?”

She’d like to say yes. Dejun is handsome; she doesn’t know him enough, but she’s sure he knows enough about her to be aware that she’s in a three-months-long relationship. Or, she was. Is it over? Was Sicheng too much of a coward after kissing her all the way home from the trip, like his life depended on it, so he decided to dip?

“Sorry…I’m waiting for my boyfriend.” She has to be stupid, but she takes that moment as an excuse to take a sip of her glass. Dejun nods, sputtering a set of apologies before he goes somewhere else.

And there she is, once again alone, walking over to the group of women that roam around in order to grab the bride’s bouquet.

She is not sure if she wants to get married. The idea of having someone glowing at just one look of her face is inviting, but she wants something deeper. A friend, someone to believe in, perhaps. She gets to the far back, putting her glass down and watching as Daeri smiles with all her might as she swings the bouquet in her hands, throwing it to the group of women.

None of them grab it, but someone behind her does.

She looks around to catch a glimpse of the lucky lady, but someone else holds the bouquet in his hands. Sicheng stands there, wearing a suit that is not his size at all—perhaps, lent from his uncle’s wardrobe—, but still making it work as he walks over to her, one feet after the other in a dancing waltz when he finally approaches her.

“Sorry for being two weeks late.” Sicheng announces, earning a few coos from the people around them as he grants her the bouquet in between his hold. “I had some things to sort out.”

“Some things?” She whisper-yells, trying her hardest not to give doll-eyes to the people around her to see if they know what she is saying. She puts a smile on her face, but it’s way different to what she is about to tell Sicheng. “You went MIA for two weeks, what could have taken you so long?”

He sighs deeply, looking for something on the pocket inside his vest. When he takes it out, she sees a small marked canvas, the size of her palm when he puts it on her free hand. Made out of peanuts are a few words that have her battling back tears as well as laughing at Sicheng’s uniqueness.

I want you to be the future of this forgotten man.

And then, a jade drawn to its side. Awfully done, as well.

“I’m not that good at drawing, but I really tried. It took me longer than I expected and I really didn’t want to show up without this but—”

“You have to be stupid.” She shakes her head, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to press a soft kiss to his lips. He grows rigid, cheeks heated up when she pulls away only to have her gasping. “Oh, forgot you didn’t want to be the PDA boyfriend.”

“…I’ll have to get used to it.” Sicheng releases as a soft breath between them, taking her hand and giving it a run with his thumb. “Let’s go sit down so we can talk about these past two weeks.”

“And the ones to come.”

He smiles at her words. “Plenty of those, if we are lucky.”

###

Waking up to the sound of Sicheng playing the drums in their shared apartment would be annoying to some, but to her, it’s refreshing.

She lets herself roll to his side of the bed, smiling in glee with her eyes closed. He’s still insecure with his hits, trying not to make too much noise or get lost in the moment, but he’s getting there. Seven months into the relationship and she can say something…

Sicheng is not his past. He’s not his future. He’s not the man when he’s alone or the one he’s with her. He’s a mixture of the art of his smile, the twinkle in his eyes, the insecurity in his mind but the selflessness that characterizes him.

Sicheng is time, and she’d be lucky to spend her entire life with him.

#winwin scenarios #winwin #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct #wayv #kpop scenarios #cpop scenarios #writing #wayv au #nct au #winwin au #wayv fluff #nct fluff #winwin fluff #nct angst #wayv angst #winwin angst #slice of life!au

[mingi-bubu]

say goodnight (and go)

Fictober22~ Prompt #20: “There’s only us.” (though it doesn’t show up in this part) bo yuan x reader uni au, dj x producer relationship, yn is such a fan of bo yuan and it shows™, title from imogen heap‘s “say goodnight and go”, just under 3.37k words

part one // part two // qcynario masterlist ^-^ // fictober22 masterlist

related to junjie, changxi, and chaoyuan’s scenarios but it’s not necessary that you read them to understand this

i don’t know much about radio dj-ing so please take whatever i say about it with a grain of salt.  everything i know i’ve gotten from pop culture and not like, actual knowledge.  i also experimented with the narrative structure a bit, so let me know what you think of it :D

“Hey!  Turn the radio up!”  You call to Changxi as you start wiping menus off.  “It’s almost time for FM.211.”

Changxi makes a comment under his breath along the lines of “We get it, you like him” as he passes you, and you quickly twist the damp rag and hit him on the arm with it.  He hisses, rubbing the now turning-pink mark on his arm.

“Shut up, Changxi.”  You say, taking the dry rag and wiping the small droplets of sudsy water off the menu.

“He’s right, though,” Chaoyuan says from behind the bar.  He’s wiping down the bar top, and you can see some dried clay in his hair.  You didn’t notice it earlier when you were giving him drink orders, nor when you were taking those drinks to the bachelorette party.

“Didn’t get a chance to shower before you got here?”  You ask, looking at the light gray areas in his dark brown hair.

“Nah,” he replies easily, running a hand through his hair.  He sighs at the clay dust that falls from his fingers onto the part of the bar he just wiped off.  “I was helping a classmate with their sculpture.  They’re more of a 2D artist than a 3D one, and so they were having some difficulty with-”

You cut him off, looking up at the speakers in the ceiling, “Shh!  He’s started.”  Changxi and Chaoyuan just share a look, used to your antics by now.

“To all my followers, hello.  Welcome to Radio FM.211.  I am your host, Bo Yuan-gēge.  Welcome to my radio world.”

You mouth along with the introduction, going back to your task.  Bo Yuan was your favorite radio DJ that the university had for its radio station.  Your friends, hosts of the morning show “Bazi and Baatjih: Breakfast with B-Squared,” have long since stopped trying to compete with him for your favor.  They both have accepted that they are second to him when it comes to having you as a fan.  They still tease you about it, of course, but none of you take it to heart anymore.

However, due to when their show is on and when his show is on, they don’t know him all that well.  They talk to him during the monthly meeting only; the one that the supervisor has where all the DJs come in, and they go over the statistics and how everyone’s show is going.

The intro music to Bo Yuan’s show starts, something that he had admitted to composing himself on his show during his biweekly Q&A segment a while ago, and you settle into the mindless routine of the restaurant’s closing tasks.  Changxi and Chaoyuan work around you, the three of you a well-oiled machine.

Bo Yuan goes through the standard updates, the time and temperature, and talks a little about how the traffic is looking in and around campus before getting into his first segment of the two hours his show is on for.  “As always,” he says, “our first segment is Happy Corner.  Let’s see what wisdom the fortune cookie has for us tonight.”  You smile as you hear the sounds of the cellophane opening and the cookie cracking.  “Tonight’s fortune is: The time is always right to do what is right.”  He pauses, letting the words have their moment.

“That’s kind of cheesy, don’t you think?”  Changxi says loudly.  You look to your right and see he has started putting the chairs upside-down on the tables.

“It’s a fortune cookie,” Chaoyuan says back, restacking the various glasses for drinks tomorrow night.  “It would be weird if it wasn’t.”  You stick out your tongue at them before laughing with them.  The three of you fall silent again as the radio show continues on.  The only other sounds in the restaurant are those of the clinking of bottles and glasses behind the bar and the tables and chairs being moved around for tomorrow’s lunch crowd.

“… and with that on our minds,” Bo Yuan says, “let’s listen to a new song from KUN.”  The track starts playing, the night goes on, and it feels endless in the company of your friends and wrapped in the voice of someone you care for.

--

Sometimes when you’re asked why you like him, you answer with praise for his personality and his calm demeanor.

When you’re more playful about it, you answer with his looks, his smile.

When you think about it to yourself, why you like Bo Yuan so much, you think that it’s about the comfort he brings you with each show.  His Happy Corner segment is something you look forward to, especially on bad days.  Knowing that he is able to find even the slightest joy in a bad day is something that wraps a blanket around your heart.  Often times, you find yourself doing the same, trying to find even one good thing about a bad day.

--

And it passes like that for weeks, you listening to him over radio, Changxi and Chaoyuan teasing you about your crush, more fortunes and little stories every night.  But everything changes when Junjie and Baatjih rush into the café that you and Changxi were meeting them in.

“YN!”  Junjie’s eyes light up when he sees you and Changxi in the corner.  He quickly makes his way to you two, Baatjih following close behind.

“We have big news,” Baatjih says, their joy evident in their smile.

“What,” Changxi says as you finish chewing on your bite of cake, “you two engaged now?”

You laugh.  “It feels like it was just last month that you said you two were finally dating.”  Wiping away a fake tear, you lean into Changxi and look up at him, hands clasped in front of your heart.  “Oh, they grow up so fast!”

You and Changxi are able to hold it together all of three seconds before bursting into laughter at how quickly Junjie turned red.

Baatjih, on the other hand, responds by saying, “Fine, I guess we won’t tell you what happened today at the monthly meeting.”

“No, wait, I wanna know,” you say, straightening up and running your hand through you hair, pushing it out of your eyes.  And you truly did.  While you wouldn’t be caught dead in the broadcasting booth live, you did find the production side of the university’s radio shows fascinating.  “Are you guys finally getting that new soundboard that I was telling you about?  The one that the international student Jihoon was excited about?”

“Yeah, actually!”  Junjie says.  He was just as interested in the production aspect as you were, though he preferred to be the talent, and it was something you had bonded over when you met in your sophomore year required math course.  “We’re getting a new computer, too, though it is going to take a while before we can use it.  We have to clone the old hard drive onto the new co-”

Baatjih cuts him off, putting their hand over his mouth.  “You can tell YN about that later.  The more important thing is that our supervisor decided to have all the DJs as guests on each other’s shows.  Claimed that it was to help boost morale and then started throwing a bunch of statistics at us.  I tuned out then.”  They made a face letting you know just how boring they found it.  “Anyways, all of this to say,” Baatjih paused to take a breath, “Bo Yuan is actually going to be someone we talk to more than just once a month and occasionally in our groupchat.”

You were speechless.  Your friends were going to get to have your favorite radio DJ on their show.

Changxi lets out a low whistle.  “Well, damn,” he leans back in his chair.

You can feel him turn to look at you, and you feel Junjie and Baatjih’s eyes on you too, but you can’t find anything to say.  How are you supposed to express how you feel to your friends when you can’t even articulate it to yourself?

“Do you want to be in the booth with us during?”  Junjie asks, coming to the (correct) conclusion that YN.exe has stopped working.  “Obviously, you wouldn’t be on-air with us, but you could see him.  Maybe ask for a picture or whatever afterwards.”

Baatjih nodded enthusiastically beside him.  “You’ve hung out in the booth before during our show, too, so it’s fine.  As long as Linkai is able to work like usual, he’s fine with it, too.  We ran it by him before we came here.”

Your heart warmed at your friends’ words.  “I really do have the best friends ever,” you say, a little sappy at it all.

“Best duo in the business!”  Baatjih says, all swagger and confidence radiating from them as they swing their arm around Junjie’s shoulders.  He and Changxi share a look at Baatjih’s actions, but the four of you settle into a new conversation.  You and Junjie talking about the updates that will soon be happening.  Changxi and Baatjih talking about how it was going with his roommate and their fake dating story.  Your voices blend in with the hustle and bustle of the café, occasionally looping one of the workers in, as well, when Yao Chi or Huaiwei passed by.

As you got into bed that night, you pictured how it would be watching Bo Yuan in his element, microphone in front of him and headphones on.  Maybe meeting his eyes when he smiles at something that Junjie or Baatjih says, or maybe something that Linkai sarcastically comments over his mic.  You hold yourself back from picturing anything more, from hoping too hard.  After all, it’s better to not shoot for the stars when you don’t even know if you can get off the ground.

--

When you’re asked why you like him, you say, “He makes me want to be the best Me I can.”

--

Linkai gives you a nod as you slip into the studio, trying your best to be quiet.  There’s still a little over ten minutes until Junjie and Baatjih’s morning show begins, and Linkai is already behind the soundboard getting everything prepared for the show.  Junjie and Baatjih were already in the booth, testing the mics and the connection to their headphones.  You wave at your friends from behind Linkai, and they give you a smile.  Baatjih is swiveling in their chair, obviously ready for the show to start.  Junjie is standing, leaning over the microphone arm to try to adjust it properly.  You can hear, just barely, the low murmur of the couple talking and the microphone being moved.  It isn’t until you sit down next to Linkai that Bo Yuan walks in, his hair hidden under a navy blue bucket hat that matches Junjie’s own.  He goes to the other two immediately, pausing to drop his bag on the floor next to Junjie.

“Did they coordinate that,” you ask Linkai jokingly, watching Bo Yuan.  His back is towards the sound booth, and you can’t but help feel slightly disappointed.  He didn’t even look in the sound booth’s direction once when he walked in.  You didn’t consider at all that he might be one of those people who only interact with the faces of the entertainment, and not the helping hands.

He glances up from the switches to see what you’re talking about and snorts.  “All four of us did.”

“Four?”  You watch Linkai as he gives you an exaggerated put-upon sigh, the effect ruined by his smile seconds later as he fishes a bucket hat out of his bag.  It doesn’t match the other two, a surprising blue and red tie-dyed pattern, and you point out as much.

“Just wait,” he says mysteriously, turning back to the computer.  He raises the volume level of the mics in the studio so that you could hear your friends and their guest above a murmur.  He waves his hand at the three DJs to get their attention and holds up his hat.  Baatjih laughs, and you swear you would’ve heard it even without the mics.  They bend down in their chair, disappearing for a moment, before popping back up.  On their head is the matching pair to Linkai’s own hat.

Baatjih flashes you a peace sign, arm extended and wrist turning from left to right in a wave, as you try to stifle your laughter from behind your hand.  A part of you knows that Linkai and Baatjih must have planned something to this effect, an attempt to distract you from the nerves that were sure to come as soon as you meet Bo Yuan’s eyes.  You appreciate their attempt, but it’s futile.

Bo Yuan turns around and meets your eyes.  You feel your breath catch.  You know Junjie and Baatjih are chatting along in the background, but you don’t process a single word they say.  You had thought his pictures on the university radio’s social media showed how handsome he is, but in person he was even more attractive than you expected.  Despite his eyes being shadowed by the brim of the hat, they were bright.  A small smile was resting on his face, and you feel your heart speed up just the slightest.  He’s wearing a white T-shirt underneath an oversized navy blue windbreaker.  The T-shirt was tucked into a pair of light colored jeans that suited him just fine.  He had a chain necklace on that shone when it caught the light, and he had several rings adorning both hands.

“I’m sorry for not saying greeting the two of you when I walked in,” he apologizes.  “I didn’t realize that Linkai was training another producer.”  His tone is slightly embarrassed, and you wave his apology away.  You let him know non-verbally that it’s alright, and you smile at him, hoping that you don’t look like a crazed fan.

Linkai interrupts any chance of you explaining to Bo Yuan that you aren’t a trainee for the booth, though it’s not as if the chance was strong to begin with.  You didn’t have a microphone and, while you knew your way around a soundboard thanks to Linkai, you didn’t have the confidence to suddenly use his.  You hear the click of his mic turning on.  “Thirty seconds to air.”  His mic clicks off, and he wordlessly hands you a headset that matches his.  As soon as the radio show begins, all the sound is to be heard through the headphones rather than the speakers at the corners of the walls and ceiling.  It was something that Linkai started doing after Junjie and Baatjih made it clear that they, and the fans, think that Linkai’s comments were more than welcome.

The both of you settle back into your chairs, and you watch as he raises his hands, counting down the last ten seconds of the song for them.

“Good morning!”  Junjie drawls, slipping into his Bazi personality.

“Welcome one and all to Bazi and Baatjih: Breakfast with B-Squared!”  Baatjih spreads their arms out in presentation, though you don’t know why.  There were only five of you there.

You nudge Linkai and raise an eyebrow, nodding your head in their direction.

“The head of the comm department wanted the so-called crossover episodes to be filmed for possible future use by the university,” he explains, voice quiet.  “Most DJs were already filming their spots anyways, but because this might be used in a future promotion or something for the university, all the DJs are doing their best to make it visually interesting.”

Your mouth forms a small ‘o’ in understanding.  You cross your arms and turn back to your friends.

“Today’s show is going to be a little different,” Baatjih says, tossing their hair over their shoulder in a carefully practiced careless move.  You know this move.  They were practicing it a while ago when they were waiting for you to get off shift at the restaurant.  “We have a guest with us today!  The host of the night show FM.211, our university’s very own, Bo Yuan-gēge!”

“When you send us your messages this morning,” Junjie continues, “use the hashtag ‘BCubed’ so we can see what you guys think.”

“This morning’s show is also being streamed live,” something you didn’t know, “so if you have the opportunity,” Baatjih says, “make sure to tune in!”

“I think that’s enough out of the two of us, eh Baatjih?  Why don’t we let Yuan-gēge introduce himself?”  Junjie and Baatjih both turn their focus to the third DJ.

“Hello, everyone,” Bo Yuan starts, “as Bazi and Baatjih have said, I am Bo Yuan-gēge, and I am happy to be here this morning.”

“It’s a bit earlier than you’re used too, huh, Yuan-gēge?”  Junjie jokes.

Bo Yuan smiles and he agrees.  “Usually when I’m on, most of my listeners are on their way to sleep or on their way to a party.”

“Or getting off shift,” Baatjih adds.  “Bazi and I have a friend who has their coworker put your show on as they’re closing and cleaning the restaurant they work at.”

Your eyes widen and you stare at Baatjih.  They make a point to not look in your direction, but it doesn’t take British particle physicist Dr. Brian Cox to realize that of the five people here, you’re the only one it could be.  Otherwise, why bring it up in the first place?  Next to you, Linkai chuckles, while Junjie has a little smirk on his face.  You love your friends, you do, but you hate your friends.

Bo Yuan also very carefully doesn’t look at you, instead keeping his eyes on his hosts, and says, “Ah?  That’s great to hear.  I’m happy to make someone’s closing shift a little bit better.”  Despite your mortification, you can’t help but swoon just the tiniest bit, knowing that he’s talking about you.

Linkai looks over at you and rolls his eyes as he turns back to the DJs.  “Yeah, yeah, you all have fans.  Let’s get to the music now, can we?”

“And there is the voice of our lovely Xiǎo Guǐ,”  Baatjih jokes.

Bazi laughs, scrolling through his laptop.  “Xiǎo Guǐ, you have plenty of fans in the tag right now.  ‘I saw the #BCubed promo picture and Xiǎo Guǐ is so punk rock boyfie coded!’”

Baatjih picks another message.  “‘I would pay real money to have #BCubed Xiǎo Guǐ dismiss me on air live’?  Something to consider for the next fundraiser, I think,” Baatjih struggles to keep their voice level, fighting the smile that is trying to escape.

Junjie complains about the #BCubed tag being filled with other messages like this.  “Xiǎo Guǐ, why are Dá Lín like this?”

Linkai turns on his mic and says with a cocky smile, “Sometimes when you got it, you got it.”  His mic clicks off, and you mime being sick from what he said.

Bo Yuan had been chuckling throughout the exchange in the background.  “Surprising how your show has Dá Lín being so outwardly, um, horny considering how early it’s on.  My Bó Lèmén never act up like this.”

You staunchly ignore Linkai’s elbow to your ribs, the both of you knowing damn well what you say when you get drunk.  The rest of the show proceeds like that between songs; Linkai being a smart-ass and the three DJs having to deal with him and the thirst comments that flood in every time.  Junjie and Baatjih do keep to their general structure despite everything that had been changed for this special event.  As always, they have their Student Music hour.  Several student compositions played during that time, ranging from hip-hop to hard bop jazz, which wasn’t something you had heard before.

The show ended with Bo Yuan thanking the other two DJs for the opportunity to be on their show, and inviting them to guest on his nighttime show in the future.  You look down at your phone in surprise, the clock there showing you how fast time flew.  The three of them make their way out of the studio and into the producing booth.

“So,” Baatjih says, taking their bucket hat off and shoving it into their backpack, “coffee?”

#bo yuan scenarios #cpop scenarios #qcynarios #say goodnight (and go) #fictober22 #into1 scenarios #jae.works

[allfornuo]

a kiss for the chef? | qian kun

bf!kun cooks for his sick beloved (gender neutral)

contains. domestic atmosphere. lots of teasing. 95% fluff. 0.1% angst. 4.9% suggestive word count. 1.8k

it was finally weekend, but as you got off work on friday evening you felt your body was starting to get chilly and your throat growing to feel a little itchy. you didn't think much of it, but after taking a shower you started feeling even worse, your body was now trembling in cold, no matter how many layers you would dress in, the blanket of your bed wasn't big help either. gladly the air conditioner remote was right on your nightstand, so you set it on heat with a timer for two hours and somehow managed to fall asleep.

---

saturday morning was afwul, you had woken up from your own shivers and a splitting headache. it was nearly impossible to open your eyes but you fought with all your might to do just that. the scene of a rising sun only made you squint in pain. you got up, quickly, almost hysterically looked through your cabinets for some kind of pain killer, anything to make this headache go away as quick as possible. although your stomach felt super empty, you couldn't even think of eating breakfast right now, you were sure it would only make your condition worse, so you just went back to your bed for a nap.

you were out for around 2 hours, the sun was already lighting up your whole bedroom, but it didn't hurt your eyes anymore. your body still felt chilly, so you decided to check your body temperature. and there you have it: 38.8 degrees. you're officially sick. you groan in disappointment because you had made plans to go out with your friend in the afternoon, but it seems like that will have to wait. you grab your phone to let your friend know about your condition but what distracts you at the moment is your boyfriend kun. he has sent you a whole bunch of texts last night. you open the conversation and hurriedly read all the messages:

"did you finish work?" 17:05

"♪⁠┌⁠|⁠∵⁠|⁠┘⁠♪" 17:05

"is everything okay?" 18:24

"please let me know if anything happened as soon as you can okay" 18:32

":(" 20:01

"i hope you're sleeping well in your bed right now" 21:29

"goodnight baby~" 21:29

"i don't want to seem clingy but i'm a bit worried. hope i'm just overreacting. call me" 00:57

cold sweat washes over you as you read your boyfriend's messages and grasp how concerned he was last night. you press the call button immediately, not sure if he's available to talk at the moment. but he picks up almost right away. "y/n!" he exclaims, almost startling you "is everything alright?", his voice rushed and a little shaky. you can tell he was waiting for you to call as soon as possible.

"hello... don't worry nothing happened last night" you shyly answer.

"really? why didn't you answer? you never leave me hanging like this". you can imagine him sulking a little and that warms your heart.

you cough softly and reply with "i'm sorry. i think i got fever last night, and i slept so poorly" you sigh, "also I'm constantly cold"

kun shuffles around at the other side of the line and relaxedly exhales. "should I cancel my schedule and come to you? did you eat?" you can practically see his tense expression turn into endearing one.

"no! don't cancel anything. believe it or not, i know how to fight the fever myself"

kun chuckles sounding a bit more laid-back now, "you sure you don't need more punch power in this fight?"

"i'm sure! don't cancel your schedules!" you practically order "and don't you dare come here i don't want you to get sick because of me". you say but feel regret forming in your chest right away. you don't want to push him away.

although you felt horrible, and knew that staying away from him would be better for everyone, you still yearn to see him after a long week of you both continuously working.

you assume that kun reads your mind when he says "you think a fever can stop me from coming to see you after all this time apart?"

you blush at his words and bashfully reply, "but it's only been 5 days"

"5 days of torture. and you are telling me to make it 6? no way."

you kick your feet under a blanket but try your best to keep your composure because you're still on a call with him.

"i'll have to hang up now, make sure you eat and take your medicine right after, okay?" kun instructs rushedly but doesn't forget to add "i love you"

"alright. okay. good luck at work. i love you"

the conversation ends and you smile to your phone foolishly, until you see your friend's text asking you if you're ready to go out today. you feel dumbfounded for forgetting about this previously made arrangement for a bit but let her know immediately that you're feeling unwell and would like to reschedule to another time.

---

your doorbell suddenly rings at 7 in the evening, startling you as you were dozing off, all wrapped up in blankets and watching your k-drama.

you pick yourself up lazily, still wrapped in blankets and rubbing your eyes, you look at the intercom screen and see your boyfriend's face. you grin to yourself at the sight and open the door for him.

"why didn't you use the digital lock..." you whine first thing as you greet him.

kun looks at you, all wrapped up in blankets like a big human sized chicken wrap and coos, "oh baby..." he walks in with two giant bags in his hands raising them up higher to show them off "my hands were full by the way"

"how did you press the bell then?" you continue whining.

"with my nose" kun giggles as he softly places a small peck on your forehead while walking past you. he puts the bags down on the kitchen chair and starts unloading them, revealing snacks and various food ingredients.

you chuckle at his words and walk up to him to investigate what he's plotting with all this food. there were way more groceries than you can use in one day. "didn't i tell you to not come over?" your tone is a bit more serious now.

kun without a word hangs his jacket, washes his hands after unloading the rest of the groceries and starts tying your kitchen apron on himself.

"hey, aren't you busy?" you push when you don't get an answer.

"do you really think i could work on my projects right now knowing that you're here sick all alone?" kun cuts, his voice stern, but eyes soft.

you can't keep this tough act up anymore and give in with a small "sorry..."

kun looks down at the table with the groceries and grins, showing off his dimples. "did you—" "what are you—" you both speak at the same time and suddenly burst into silly laughter, breaking the previous tension completely.

"you go first baby" kun says as he washes and starts cutting up some vegetables.

you sheepishly smile "what are you making? can I help?"

kun adores you. he practically melts when you offer him your help, but he politely declines "next time. right now i need you to go lay down and just wait until the food is served"

"isn't that princess treatment?" you tease.

"yes. only for you" kun replies, making you both cringe a little.

he's busy with pots and pans but you know you can completely trust him since his food never tasted less than perfect.

you keep stealing looks at him from the living room sofa where you're *watching* your television, when in reality you can't focus on the plot anymore.

"are you in love with me or something?" kun's chirpy voice teases you from the kitchen and you could swear he hasn't looked up to you this whole time, but somehow he still managed to feel your stares from the other room. he chuckles to himself and stirs the food in the pot carefully "it's almost ready"

you wiggle your feet excitedly as he brings you a bowl with steaming congee and a plate of fresh breadsticks on the side. the smell alone drives you crazy.

kun watches your expression with so much affection and you can see he's fighting the urge to smother you in his love. he takes your spoon in order to feed you the first scoop. it tastes heavenly but you just have to tease him once more, so you make a questionable face at the first bite.

to your success, his expression changes from endearing to confused by your reaction "what is it? is it too salty?"

"no... but it has a lot of this one ingredient..."

"what ingredient?" kun smells the congee in your bowl one more time, trying to figure it out.

"it's just so..." you are keeping him on edge with dragging your answer "... full of love"

kun relaxes a bit and shakes his head with a scrunchy grin at your little game.

"oh y/n... finish it quickly so I can tackle you"

you both giggle, "aren't you scared to get sick?" "i won't get sick" kun immediately replies, his eyes basically burning into you, making you blush a little. you hide your cheeks with the bowl avoiding this intense eye contact.

he's sitting right beside you on the sofa, he patiently waits and watches every little mimic on your face as you eat the meal he so carefully prepared. as you're finishing up the last scoops in the bowl, his eyes darken a little and he's moving the bowl out of the way, on the table.

"repeats please!" you cut the sly act, sensing what's going on.

kun snickers and points a finger at you, "the congee isn't forever you know" he gets up to pour you another round of this delicious meal.

he's back staring at you as you're finishing up the second bowl until you can't eat anymore. "thank you. it was a very hearty meal. brought me back home"

kun smirks confidently, shifts closer to your side and boldly says, "so.. a kiss for the chef?"

you sigh with a small smile, you knew this was coming sooner or later, "i'm sick, kun"

"a kiss for the chef?" he repeats with the same tone.

you groan a little, feeling like this is not a winning fight for you, and cup his face in your palms, looking deep into his eyes. he's staring back at you, puffing his lips out.

"you look so silly" you say as you squish his cheeks more firmly, making his lips puff more.

he tries to smile with his cheeks pressed between your hands and makes you laugh cheerily.

"thank you chef" you let off your grip, now holding him gently and finally press your lips to his.

he smiles into the kiss, pulls back for a moment and scans your features once more. once he sees that mutual sparkle in your eyes he slips right under the blanket you have wrapped yourself into, kissing you back so hungrily, "it's dessert time"

#kun #wayv kun #wayv #nct #kpop #cpop #kun x reader #kun scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct wayv #qian kun #kun x yn #gender neutral reader #gn reader

[theneodream]

Hendery bf moodboard ♡

#nct #wayv #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nctzen #wayzenni #hendery #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #nct imagines #kpop #cpop #hendery imagines

[multiphandomunnies]

exo

reactions

idol gf has a wardrobe malfunction

*T* gf has self harm scars

bf decked out in merch at fansign

Mc makes fun of idol gf

how would exo cuddle

*T* gf comes out as F to M

college au

you send an inappropriate photo as they’re at practice

imagines

xiumin

winters promise

boyfriend xiumin!

half asleep

single dad!

falling in love

suho

lay

bf! lay

baekhyun

blushing

pantone 18-1018

chen

christmas special

chanyeol

falling prolouge

snapdragon

bf! chanyeol

instagram

kyungsoo

morning kisses

kai

(*M*) first time

tulip

bf! kai

sehun

orchid

jealous

luhan

don’t wait

tao

unexpected

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop reacts #kpop reactions #kpop angst #exo #exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo fluff #exo angst #exo reacts #exo reactions #xiumin #lay #baekhyun #d.o #suho #chen #chanyeol #kai #sehun #tao #luhan #cpop #cpop fluff #cpop imagines #cpop reacts #cpop reactions

[medusasprogeny]

it’s wayv’s fifth anniversary, currently manifesting a world tour because i need to see them 🙏🏽🙏🏽 on the twilight of their anniversary the energy will be strongest yall we WILL get that world tour !!

#kpop #kpop boys #nctzen #wayv #nct #nct wayv #wayv scenarios #cpop boys #cpop #nct ten #nct chittapon #nct winwin #nct xiaojun #nct yangyang #nct kun #nct hendery #wayv kun #wayv hendery #wayv chittaphon #wayv yangyang #wayv winwin #wayv xiaojun #wayv ten #world #fuck sm #nct 2023 #wayv icons #wayv moodboard #wayv imagines #music

[xiaothejun]

Nicknames WayV would give their S/O

Kun:

Honey/hun

Candy

Sugar

Dear

Precious

Ten:

(My) Princess

Kitty

Sunshine

Bae

Sicheng:

Sweetie

Sweetheart

Baby

Yukhei:

Beautiful

Hot stuff

Babe

Mami

Gorgeous

Dejun:

Sweetheart

Angel

Sunshine

Boo

Hendery:

Bro (in a loving way!!!!)

Babe

Kiddo

Precious

Yangyang:

Bunny

Mommy (this boy looks kinky don’t come at me)

Wifey

Gorgeous

✨Schnappi ✨ iykyk

#wayv scenarios #wayv #wayv imagine #wayv scenario #wayv imagines #wayv reaction #wayv reactions #kpop reaction #kpop reactions #kpop #wayv fluff #nct #nct fluff #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct reaction #nct reactions #cpop #cpop reactions #kun #ten #winwin #Lucas #xiaojun #hendery #yangyang

[minimultiestfandoms]

˜”*°• *.* ˜”*°• ! wayv masterlist ! •°*”˜ *.* •°*”˜

——————————————————————————

| Headcanons |

WAYV As Boyfriends (solo headcanons)

Kun | Ten | Winwin | Xiaojun | Hendery | Yangyang

Nothing Yet!

| Reactions |

WAYV reaction to their S/O tics

WAYV reaction to their gamer S/O

| Fake Texts |

Nothing Yet!

| Drabbles |

Nothing Yet!

| Series |

My NCT OT23 Halloween Collaboration (unfinished collab!)

| Timestamps |

Nothing Yet!

#minimultiestfandoms #made by admin sunnie #admin sunnie #kpop #cpop #nct #wayv #wayv reactions #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv fluff #wayv smut #wayv fake texts #wayv headcanons #wayv drabbles #wayv x reader #wayv kun #wayv ten #wayv xiaojun #wayv winwin #wayv hendery #wayv yangyang #don’t reblog

[oraclekleo]

Roy (TFboys) Relationship Role Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All celebrity readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Feedback: Feedback is very important for content creators and for me it’s even more important. Please, let me know whether the tarot readings resonate. If there’s anything you dislike or find off about my readings (like wording, topics, focus), just tell me. I don’t want you to write 1000-word feedback, very simple comments will do for me to stay motivated. I don’t know why I have to keep repeating this but this is something I do for you, guys, and when I don’t feel motivated to do tarot readings, I have many other things to do. The more motivation I get, the more readings you will get to read. The logic is very simple but it’s two sided.

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: /

Deck(s): Mermaid Tarot

Spread: Relationship Role

Questions:

Friend

Boyfriend

Lover

Husband

One-Night-Stand

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Roy Wang / Wang Yuan

Stage Name: Roy

Group: TFboys

DOB: 08.11.2000

Blood Type: N/A

MBTI: N/A

Sun Sign: Scorpio

Chinese Sign: Metal Dragon

Life Path Number: 3

Masterpost: UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Roy (TFboys)

Full Name: Roy Wang / Wang Yuan Stage Name: Roy Group: TFboys DOB: 08.11.2000 Blood Type: N/A MBTI: N/A Sun Sign: Scorpio Chinese Sign: Metal Dragon Life Path Number: 3

Spread / Question: Relationship Role Deck(s): Mermaid Tarot

Friend - 7 of Swords, 10 of Cups

Roy truly values and cherishes his friends dearly. He might not have that many of them, he’s likely to build a small circle of people he can rely on in everyday life. He likes to include his friends in his decision making processes, he asks for their advice and opinions to form his own vision of reality. Roy doesn’t let his friends manipulate him but he likes to listen to their point of views. Sometimes he lets them influence him when he feels it’s a good thing, but when their opinions don’t align with his own life credo, he doesn’t follow them. He takes what resonates with him and leaves the rest for others.

Boyfriend - Queen of Wands, IX The Hermit

While the Queen here is a party animal, the Hermit suggests an introverted person. Nobody is just one thing or another, we all combine multiple aspects within us and the same applies to Roy. He might give an outgoing vibe to people and to a certain degree he truly loves to be around his sweetheart. However, dating someone doesn’t mean to be glued to that person and Roy knows it. His special person might often accept that Roy needs some private alone time for himself when he doesn’t want to be disturbed, simply to sort his thoughts and relax, to listen to his own thoughts rather than the other people’s chatter. His sweetheart needs to respect it.

Lover - 6 of Cups, 5 of Pentacles

There’s a certain innocence and even an aspect of childishness in Roy’s cards for the lover role. I can see there might be some unresolved issues from his childhood, still affecting him today. Maybe his parents’ relationship was far from perfect and Roy developed intimacy issues and isn't ready to accept the blessing of physical love to the full extent just yet. The person on 5 of Pentacles card is clearly presented with abundance but they can’t see it because they are in a state where they look inside of their soul.

Husband - VII The Chariot, 7 of Wands

I can see a husband role might be a challenging one for Roy. He might even feel cornered if he’s somewhat pushed towards marriage. He sees it as something that requires a high amount of responsibility and training. He feels like he needs to practise dating still and he’s not ready to be the husband any partner would need.

One-Night-Stand - Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Swords

Right… That’s a pretty clear no from Roy when it comes to random love affairs. It’s no surprise when he’s not really comfortable with the sexual aspect of a relationship. Knight of Pentacles is the slowest moving knight in the deck and to highlight the reluctance of Roy to engage in one night stands, we have someone literally frozen in an icy coffin.

I would like to say that I don't follow TFboys at all, I don't know the group. If you, guys, do, let me, please, please, know whether I got anywhere near accurate with this reading. I'm expecting at least one feedback to appear in my inbox, as this was a requested reading. 😊

Thank you for reading!

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Check out my k-pop and astrology themed activity book for adults - HERE! 📘

#roy wang #wang yuan #tfboys #tfboys smut #tfboys scenarios #tfboys tarot #cpop #cpop idols #cpop smut #cpop tarot #cpop imagines #oracle kleo #tarot #celebrity tarot

[kpopcookie0813]

Hello everyone. I am writing for many different Asian Boy Groups (KPOP, JPOP, & CPOP), Asian Actors (THAI, KOREAN, CHINESE, JAPANESE), and Soloists on Tumblr so, I will be moving all of my stories from Wattpad also on here. As of now, I only have written about NCT members so my first few stories will be just NCT but if you have many more boy groups you would like to see please let me know. I will be making stories and more with the categories below. So, feel free to request anything you would like for me to write either in the comments or privately. Also, this will be AMBW stories for my BLACK QUEENS...:)))) Scenario Smuts Fluffs MTL's (Most Likely To) Reactions And more.... So, I hope you guys will enjoy this and there will be more to come. ALSO, I WILL NOT RIGHT SMUTS FOR ANY MEMBERS THAT ARE 05 LINERS AND UNDER......

#AMBW #NCT #WAYV #THE BOYZ #GOT7 #BTS #SEVENTEEN #TXT #ENHYPHEN #SB19 #BOYSTORY #ATEEZ #TREASURE #EXO #MONSTA X #PENTAGON #STRAYKIDS #EPEX #P1HARMONY #SHINEE #ACE #AB6IX #ASTRO #BAE173 #VICTON #VAV #MCND #TNX #XDINARY HEROES #IKON

[raevior]

hi all!! i’m new to tumblr, so here’s an introduction!

about me ^^

age: 19

sign: libra

loc: usa

lang: eng/中文

sexuality: bisexual

interests/likes:

crochet, drawing, painting, cats, kpop, hamsters, kdrama, cdramas, cpop, sleeping, youtube, roblox, reading, vkei, sunsets, vinyls, the ocean, night time, city life, romance, flowers, uncanny counter, alice in borderland, anime

ult groups and biases:

loona - hyunjin, choerry, gowon and hyeju

billlie - haruna and siyoon

nct - taeyong

new jeans - haerin and minji

ateez - wooyoung and mingi

fave animes: dororo, tomodachi game, attack on titan, blue lock, black clover, assassination classroom, chainsaw man, jujutsu kaisen, hxh, demon slayer, erased, nana 🤍

MY PURPOSE ON TUMBLR:

i’ve always enjoyed writing and reading, and i love to bring mine and other peoples scenarios to life! so i’ve come on here to write fanfiction/one shots. i will always put descriptions and tw on all of my writings! most will center around kpop idols and k actors.

i started writing fanfic at around 14(?), and i’ve always enjoyed both reading and writing. i prefer to write lengthy stories but am also okay with writing short scenarios and one shots! i have decided to jump back into the community since i’ve noticed over the years, a lot of fanfics are written very poorly; that being poor grammar, no plot, no lead ups or anything. and it’s quite annoying! you know that feeling when you think you find a great story, but when you start reading it, it’s very disappointing. i’m here to save the day!!

i’m planning on making a carrd to better introduce myself. for now, im looking for moots! please make sure to read the DNI below before!

DNI: under 17 years old, stray kids fan, gg anti, solo stan, like gore, promote ed and unhealthy habits

BYF: i am 19!! soon to be 20. i am not comfortable with being friends/moots with anyone under the age of 17.

thank you all for reading! let’s be friends! 🤍

#moots #uncanny counter #alice in borderland #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop gg #loona #kpop #introducing myself #kdrama #chinese #cdrama #cpop #ateez #anime

[mingi-bubu]

QCYNarios Masterlist

All of these fall under the greater universe that springs from the xunario, a.k.a. You Already Know.  You don’t have to read it to understand any of the QCYNarios; for the most part, all of these have threads that connect them to each other.  The xunario will help in adding context, as I will make references to it throughout, but on the whole you’d be fine if you wanted to skip it.  Several of the QCYNarios interact directly with another’s.

I will make a note of which ones interact with which in the author’s note at the beginning, the story itself, and in this masterlist.  If you only want to read a certain sub-universe in this, I have mini-masterlists in here.  The only one that specifically needs to be read in the order I have listed them are the wedding!verse scenarios.  Please, enjoy!

Xunario Masterlist | Fictober22 Masterlist | Writing Masterlist

Unmoored Scenarios

Chen Youwei • Snow Day-te ♡ (IP)

Xu Longhan • Rainy Day-te ♡

Zhou Shiyuan + Sharing a Milkshake

University + Café Scenarios

Deng Chaoyuan + Art Class

Guan Yue • cadenza (IP)

Lian Huaiwei • I’m Slowly Diving, I Can’t Let You Go ♡

part i

part ii

part iii

Xia Hanyu • (selos) (IP)

hindi ako

hindi ikaw

hindi alam ang dahilan

Yao Mingming + Dance Club` ♡ (IP)

Zhou Chuanjun  • 5. “No, anything but that.”*

University Radio!verse Scenarios

Feng Junjie • Good Morning, Good Evening, and Good Night

part i: good morning

part ii: good evening

part iii: good night

Bo Yuan • say goodnight (and go)* ♡ (IP)

part i

part ii

Bakery!verse Scenarios

Jiayi + Bakery (IP)

Li Zhenning + Lying Florist

Shi Mingze + The Florist Next Door ♡

Zhanyu + Bakery* (IP)

Wedding!verse Scenarios

Li Wenhan • inflorescence ♡ (IP)

He Changxi • It Could be Too Much if We Cross That Line* ♡ (IP)

Hu Chunyang + Confessions

Hu Wenxuan + Wedding Crasher

Yao Chi + Wedding Photography

Started: 20200623  //  Updated: 20230331  //  Finished: ---

* = part of Fictober22 ` = directly interacts with the xunario (IP) = in-progress ♡ = favored

#jae.mstlst #jae.works #qcynarios #cpop scenarios #yes i so revamped how this looked #i didn't vibe with the og but i couldn't figure out how to fix it until recently #and since i'm on spring break this week i figured i could do it now lol

[cxsmicmyeon]

First of all, congratulations on 200!! You deserve that and more, your writing is amazing!

I am here to unsurprisingly request the love of my life, (I’m sure you saw this coming, Zitao.

It almost killed me to choose the prompts lmao, but we got there, I chose 3, a combination of the 2.

From fluff; 9 and from smut; 41 and 42.

Again, so so proud of you!

hi kai!! thank u so much and thank u for sending in a request!! i’m so sorry this took so long to come out )): i do hope you still enjoy though!! 💞

THIS FIC CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18.

9) "if you cry, i’ll cry ─ and that won’t be fun for anyone.”

41) "call me that again.” 42) "did i do that?”

genre: non-famous domestic au! comfort/fluff and smut. wordcount: 814 warnings: explicit sexual content, dirty talk, praise kink, dry humping, swearing

author’s note: aaa yay my first zitao fic!! i’ve wanted to write for him for a looong time but never really got a plot in mind! thank u for sending a req for him kai!! :D

Looking over the array of items you packed, you let out a contented hum before closing and zippering your suitcase shut. You lifted it off your bed and placed it down, wheeling it toward the half-open door of your bedroom. After setting it in its usual spot, you looked up to see your boyfriend, Zitao, with his arms crossed and a huge pout on his face. 

Putting on a sad smile, you walked toward him, placing your hands on his forearms. He looked down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“Why do you have to go already?” he mumbled, burying his face in your hair. You sighed softly, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“I know, Taozi. I wish I didn’t have to go on this trip either. I wish I could stay with you and Ace for longer than a damned week.” You heard Zitao sniffle softly as he squeezed you tighter, never wanting to let go. 

Your heart broke seeing Zitao cry like this. He always got a little upset whenever your boss sent you on a business trip despite knowing that travelling was crucial to your job. You even wished you could work at home for at least a year so you can make up for lost time. But the one chance that you could be home for longer than a week, your boss had to send you out for two weeks. And seeing Zitao’s heart break over the news was more difficult than being apart from him.

“Hey, if you cry, I’ll cry. And that won’t be fun for anyone.” You joked, trying to get him to smile a bit. He grinned slightly, looking down at you.

“I know, I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I finally get to see you after so long and you have to leave again.” He sighed.

“I know, baby. I wish I could stay too. I’ll try to talk to the boss and get home sooner.” You assured him, bringing him to your shared bed. Opening your arms, you allowed Zitao to cuddle you, kissing him softly and whispering soft reassurances as he cried silently in your arms.

Soon enough, Zitao’s cries stopped. He removed himself from your grip, giving you a slight smile as he dried his tears with a tissue. He sat back next to you on the bed, putting an arm around you.

“Hey, do you wanna... y’know,” You raised your eyebrows, hoping he got your message. “One more night before I have to go.”

“Yes.”

Grinning, you wrapped your arms around Zitao and kissed him softly. He kissed back, smiling into the kiss as he brought you closer to him. The kiss soon grew heated as you moved to straddle Zitao, grinding down on his growing erection. You broke the kiss, smirking as you grinded against him again. 

“Did I do that?” You teased, rubbing your crotch against his. Zitao returned your smirk, thrusting upward which caused a whimper to come out from you.

“Who else would?” Zitao breathed, sucking a love bite into your neck. You hummed as you latched your lips onto his again, moving your hips downward to contrast with his upward thrusts.

Clothes went flying and before you knew it, you were underneath Zitao, being peppered in kisses and nips as he explored your naked body with his mouth.

“Fuck, you look so pretty underneath me like this, honey. So pretty.” Zitao purred, sliding your panties down your legs. You moaned loudly as he traced his fingers on your thighs. 

“Zitao. Call me that again.” You mewled as Zitao sat up, lining his cock with your entrance.

“What, ‘honey?’“ You nodded, spreading your legs and crying out as he sheathed himself inside of you. “Honey... you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock.”

His name fell from your lips as he fucked you with all the love and passion in his heart. He showered you with ‘Honey’ after ‘Honey,’ showing you how much you meant to him. You intertwined your hands with his as he continued pounding into you, bringing you and him closer and closer to your releases.

“Taozi, I’m so close.” You cried, feeling your walls clench around him.

“Let go, honey. Cum all over my cock.” At that, you screamed, seeing stars as you came. Hard. Zitao groaned as he reached his own orgasm, biting your jugular as he released inside of you. 

After cleaning up, you curled close into Zitao’s arms, tracing indistinct patterns into his chest. He kissed you on the head as he held you close to him.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You mumbled, feeling your eyes flutter shut as your fingers slowed. Zitao hummed in agreement as he stroked your hair for a bit before falling asleep to the sound of your soft breathing.

#tao x reader #zitao x reader #ztao x reader #tao x you #tao fluff #tao smut #zitao smut #zitao fluff #cpop scenarios #cpop fluff #cpop smut #cpop imagines #ot12 fluff #ot12 smut #exo smut #exo scenarios #exo scenario #exo fluff #exo imagine #exo imagines #starry's 200 followers drabble game

[multiphandomunnies]

Misc. groups

After school

Reactions

How they are with first gf

Nana

Gf! Nana

Astro

Rocky

Long night

Clc

Reactions

Fem! Crush coming out

4 minute

Reactions

S.o is a scorpio

Kard

Reactions

Soulmate au

Highlight

Yoseop

Jealousy is poison

Vixx

Reactions

S.o using chopsticks for the first time

Winner

Scenarios

Jealous winner

Mino

Not enough?

2ne1

Reactions

S.o is a Scorpio

S.o is a leo

Nine percent

Reactions

Making s.o feel better

They pass out during practice and you find out

Stood up by crush

Cai Xukun

Let’s meet in the garden

Sonamoo

Reactions

Gf kisses them first

Hearing their s.o’s morning voice

Crush has the same patronus as them

Cuddling with their s.o for the first time

d.ana

girlfriend d.ana

A.C.E

Reactions

S.o is clumsy

Bf wearing feminine clothes

S.o falls asleep on their lap

Matilda

Reactions

S.o shows up at fan meet

B1A4

Reactions

Gf bites their neck

Crush lays their head on their lap

Scenarios

How B1A4 would kiss

How they are on dates

Gugudan

Sejeong

Newly weds

BTOB

Minhyuk

Bf! Minhyuk

Ilhoon

Almost family

Weki Meki

Doyeon

Gf! Doyeon

Sei

Single mom Au

Itzy

Reactions

Bf throwing them over their shoulder

AOA

Jimin

Soulmate au

Wjsn

Exy

Pottery

Madly in love

Bona

Gf! Bona

Big bang

Reactions

S.o has a different religion

Scenarios

As types of jealous

Imagines

Loving boyfriend

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop angst #afterschool kpop #Astro #Astro kpop #clc #4 minute #kard #highlight #highlight kpop #vixx #winner kpop #2ne1 #nine percent #cpop #cpop fluff #sonamoo #a.c.e #Matilda kpop #b1a4 #gugudan #btob #weki meki #itzy #aoa #wjsn #big bang

[medusasprogeny]

have been on a posting pause for a minute cause i never know what to post about LOL but out of curiosity, to my weishennies out here, who’s your bias 👀👀 im a ten girlie but hendery is runner up

#wayv #nct wayv #nct #wayv chittaphon #wayv ten #wayv icons #wayv yangyang #wayv moodboard #wayv scenarios #wayv hendery #wayv kun #wayv winwin #wayv imagines #wayv xiaojun #nctzen #weishenv #kpop boys #kpop #cpop boys #on my youth