#nct friends to lovers au

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED NCT FICS OF AUGUST 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my nct recs of august! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Drunk In You || @hyuckiefluff💕✅

↳ was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol.

Flustered || @daydreamingyuta💕✅💯

↳ Prompt: 17 “Please help me pick out an outfit.”

Listen To Me || @daydreamingyuta💕✅

↳ Prompts: #1 “I couldn’t be more in love with you.” and #11 “It’s two in the morning, why are you here?”

Live A Little || @writemekpop💕✅

↳ You knew that a holiday with your best friend Ten would be wild… you just didn’t expect to fall in love with him.

It's Raining, It's Pouring || @elix8r🔞💔✅💯

↳ Hating Mark could almost be considered your part-time job ever since Taeyong adopted him. But on one fateful night, a raging storm strikes, and with Taeyong nowhere to be found, you find yourself seeking an unlikely source of comfort - your annoying cheetah roommate.

Sorry, Who Is Mark Lee? || @dropsofletters💕💔✅

↳ she swore up and down on the night of her graduation as a doctor that she would never work with dr. mark lee. not under any setting. after all, she’s not here for people who get everything served on a silver platter just for being…nice? however, years after their graduation, mark comes back into her life not brushing his hair and talking about a new project that they are supposedly going to be working on for the next three weeks, and all hopes of not working with him die down when she realizes…maybe, she had not truly known who he was. sorry, but who the hell is mark lee?

Anon Request || @yeow6n💕✅💯💯

↳ Anon Req: have you seen the tiktok of a girl who made her boyfriend a little sprout to put on his gaming headset ??? its so cute and reminded me of hyuck 🤏🏻

Concert Tickets || @onyourhyuck💕✅💯

↳ Your boyfriend Donghyuck is a massive Bruno Mar’s fan, so you bought two concert tickets.

I'd Give Up Forever To Touch You || @martiniblues💕✅

↳ while mark is away on tour, you find yourself looking back at old memories of you two. you have grown used to spending these moments alone while mark is gone, but little do you know he is doing the same thing miles and miles away.

Love On Me || @neocitybooty🔞✅

↳ You have to choose between fulfilling the needs of your lovable boyfriend or finishing your work for the day. 

Stolen Kisses || @writemekpop🔞💕✅

↳ Sneaking off to have sex is tough with a kid in the house.

Surprise Visit || @mingyuonthemoon🔞💕✅

↳ mark pays you a surprise visit after not seeing each other for awhile

Taking Care Of My Baby || @onyourhyuck💕✅

↳ Your boyfriend Jaemin takes care of you while you’re bed ridden with a fever flu.

Two Makes A Team || @sxcret-garden🔞💕✅

↳ When both your boyfriends distract you by asking you for kisses, one thing leads to another and what you had planned to be some alone time with a good book turns into something even better…

Where Were You || @onyourhyuck🔞💕💔✅

↳ Your sweet loving boyfriend is always by your side during your bad days. What if one day, he can't be there for one of your worst?

Your Red Lipstick || @ihaechans💕✅

↳ Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.

Worth A Lie || @ruwriteshour💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ Always wallowing yourself in self-pity, you start to doubt yourself and you think it's time to end your relationship with Mark with a lie. He'll have no choice but to move on from you. It will work... right?

His Karma || @onyourhyuck🔞💕💔🔄

↳ (no summary, but really do give this one a read!)

Adult Time || @nctsplug02🔞💕✅

↳ Anon Req: hihi i'm not sure if requests are open but can you write more of milf reader with jaemin + sungchan as the kids? ♡

Bruises and Ballet Shoes || @luvyeni🔞💕✅💯

↳ jeno gets into a fight and almost misses your preformance

Close The Door Behind You || @jadeobvi🔞✅

↳ Jeno is your strict older brother who has banded Jaemin from dating you, let alone looking at you. But one night you both can’t take it anymore. All the tension has finally exploded, but you have to be careful. God forbid Jeno hears.

Fever Pitch || @nctsworld🔞💕✅💯💯💯

↳ your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

Forget Me Too || @yutaholic🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ Back home after years away, you just want to fulfill your obligations as your best friend’s maid of honor and split. You don’t want to see Johnny, though you are guaranteed to run into him at some point. You broke his heart not too long ago and the last thing he ever said to you was that he hated you. And you don’t blame him.

New Religion || @suhnnyupsidedown🔞✅💯💯

↳ something along the lines of Taeyong being a married professor and him ending up sleeping with one of his students? who also happens to be sleeping with Johnny?

Racer || @smileysuh🔞💕✅💯

↳ You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car. Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

Sin & Obsession || @onyourhyuck🔞✅💯 (pt 2)

↳ You’re a faithful good girl. You attend church and you stay out of trouble. Mark is a guy that attends your church and what you don’t know is that he’s been obsessed with you for a while…

Two For One || @goldyeokki🔞💕✅

↳ you come home after a long day to your two boyfriends in skimpy maid outfits. while they fussed over you, you had completely forgotten that it was your birthday. good thing that they had something special prepared for you on your day.

Volleyball For Dummies (In Love Edition) || @jaeminvore💕✅

↳ Mark Lee has been called many things. Dedicated was one of them and that dedication lead him into joining NeoTech College's well coveted Women's Volleyball team, the NeoTech Tigers, as their manager in hopes of winning the infamous setter, Y/N's heart. But there was one problem, being academically inclined did not come with the extensive knowledge of anything related to the sport and to put it simply, Mark Lee doesn't know shit about Volleyball.

Boyfriend Material || @mochidoie💕💔✅

↳ Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

Getting Even || @ofjunemoment🔞💕💔🔄

↳ Haechan is notorious for his pranks. Who can forget about the one time the campus fountain was bleeding red? You were weary of never getting on his wrong side, but when you get to know him better, it seems like behind all that front he's a sweet and caring guy. That is until you get a bucket of water dunked on you straight after he promised he wouldn't pull something on you. You're not only pissed that he had fooled you like this, but that he chose such a simple prank.

Just Friends || @lonelyharmonies💕✅

↳ what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

What The Puck || @choerrypuffs💕💔✅

↳ you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue. 

Mark Texts || @justalildumbpling💕✅

↳ (just some cute ol mark texts)

NCT 127 Texts || @12926💕✅💯

↳ sending a nude & saying "it wasn't for u"

NCT Dream Texts || @ohmygs-blog💕✅💯

↳ “last night was amazing. oops wrong person”

NCT Dream Texts || @ohmygs-blog💕✅

↳ “sorry can’t hangout w you this month, haven’t gotten paid yet!!!”

NCT Dream Texts || @hugs2doie💕✅

↳ nct dream when you hit them up with a “we need to talk”

NCT Dream Texts || @hugs2doie💕✅

↳ “i was talking to my other boyfriend” prank on the dreamies

Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

#nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #wayv scenarios #wayv fluff #nct texts au #nct best friends to lovers au #nct friends to lovers au #nct social media au #nct 127 social media au #nct strangers to lovers au #nct hybrid au #nct mafia au #nct exes to lovers au #nct established relationship au #nct enemies to lovers au #nct fic recs #nct recs

[rrxnjun]

potential • z. chenle

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

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

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

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

The music is loud. The weather is humid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or we could stay up a little longer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna walk home with me instead?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a while, your words turn bitter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that’s something to worry about later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I mean, what else is there to say?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I said–”

“But you implied.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh come on, I need to know!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And again, Zhong Chenle isn’t stupid. 

But for a second, he acts like he is. 

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

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

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

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

“I think you have to leave.” 

Numb, you follow the orders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chenle–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Expected me to ignore you?” 

“Kinda,” you admit, snickering.

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

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

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

“Chenle–”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Don’t wanna make you sadder.”

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

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

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

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

“In what way?”

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

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

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

“You know why, Chenle.”

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe,” he agrees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he doesn’t.

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

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct x reader #chenle x reader #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle oneshot #chenle fic #chenle imagine #chenle fanfic #chenle best friends to lovers #chenle au #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct angst

[moonlezn]

bem que se quis

o que era pra ser um sonho, virou pesadelo.

é assim que você se sente agora. a pontada no peito forte demais ao pegar seu namorado de três anos, jungwoo, beijando uma das líderes de torcida enquanto a final de handebol acontece na quadra da faculdade.

a situação piora quando você descobre que o seu inimigo de infância, jeno lee, te seguiu até ali e agora assiste a cena toda com o cenho franzido. você tinha acabado de chegar no vestiário feminino, ainda processa a imagem, sem forças para interromper o casalzinho. as lágrimas de decepção foram tão automáticas e pesadas que você nem percebe que elas rolam livremente pelo seu rosto.

"seu filho duma puta." jeno declara alto o suficiente para que os outros ouçam.

"amor... não é o que você tá pensando." woo tenta se defender, mas os lábios cheios de batom borrado anulam qualquer palavra.

"tá achando que ela é burra, seu pau no cu?" o menino atrás de você responde antes mesmo que pudesse pensar em rebater o ex-namorado.

"irmão, tá se metendo por quê? ninguém te chamou aqui."

finalmente eles se separam, jungwoo tenta limpar um pouco da bagunça na própria face. a menina te olha com dó e se retira do ambiente, desconcertada.

"tu é homem pra me enfrentar mas não pra ser fiel?" jeno ri com escárnio. "o pau deve ser desse tama—"

sem que pudesse evitar, jungwoo parte para cima de jeno, presenteando-lhe com um soco bem no nariz. o menino novamente ri, pondo a mão na área afetada.

"eu não sou de violência, mas vou ter que devolver o favor." pouco depois de afirmar, bem nos olhos do ex, jeno deixa dois socos bem acertados.

ele nunca usava as habilidades em artes maciais fora dos tatames, exceto quando, como agora, precisa se defender.

jungwoo mal viu da onde vieram as porradas, apenas sofre com gemidos dolorosos. com certeza vai ficar roxo. covardemente, ele corre para fora do vestiário, lançando um olhar indecifrável na sua direção, e você apenas desvia. não se daria a chance de sentir piedade.

o outro sacode as mãos vermelhas com o impacto, observando os seus ombros chacoalharem mais.

ele se aproxima de você, cuidoso e (nunca admitiria) preocupado. antes que pudesse tocar seu ombro, seu corpo gira de supetão.

"por que você me seguiu, garoto?" a voz ríspida não combina nada com seus olhos chorosos.

jeno respira fundo para manter a paciência. "você tá bem?"

"você acha que eu tô bem, seu idiota?" seca as lágrimas, não permitiria que ele tivesse mais material para te caçoar depois. "claro que eu não tô bem! e responde minha pergunta!"

"porra! eu te vi sozinha e sua cara não tava boa..." ele coça a nuca. "fiquei preocu... digo, fiquei curioso e cheguei aqui."

você bufa alto, cutucando bem a virtude que jeno tenta controlar.

"deixa de ser fofoqueiro, garoto! vai, pode ir, espalha pra todo mundo que eu fui chifrada."

"mas você é muito mal agradecida mesmo, né, garota. quase tive meu nariz quebrado por tua causa e..."

"porque você quis!" interrompe-o com tom estridente. "eu sei me defender sozinha!"

jeno força uma risada irônica. "ah, claro, eu vi que você tava super se defendendo."

"quer saber de uma coisa? não vou perder meu tempo com você não. tô com a cabeça cheia demais."

você praticamente foge correndo dali, indo direto para o carro e desabando no volante antes de dar partida. dor demais.

jeno fica sem entender nada enquanto caminha de volta para as arquibancadas, fechando a cara para evitar as perguntas dos amigos.

além de esquentadinha, é ingrata.

de longe dá para entender que você e jungwoo estão brigando. o garoto tenta de todas as formas te puxar para um abraço, se explicar, te acalmar, chamar sua atenção, para que não terminem. mas você não dá a mínima, desvia todas as vezes, tanto dos toques quanto dos olhares.

"acabou, jungwoo. a-ca-bou."

"você vai mesmo jogar fora tudo que a gente construiu? nossos sonhos?" ele implora, no entanto você lê através das declarações sem significado.

"endoidou, foi?" a risada debochada que sai da sua boca acaba com a esperança do ex. "você me traiu não sei quantas vezes e sou eu jogando fora nossos planos? vai se foder."

"não fala assim, am—"

"oi, amor." a voz de jeno te surpreende. sente seu braço passar pela sua cintura e um beijo na bochecha. "esse cara tá te incomodando?"

de novo essa merda.

com o olhar magoado, jungwoo balança a cabeça e sente as pálpebras queimarem.

"já entendi tudo. felicidades." ele pega a mochila no chão e, finalmente, te deixa em paz.

assim.

um namoro de três longos anos acaba assim.

quando não consegue mais ver o menino por entre a multidão do campus, você estapeia o braço de jeno para longe de você.

"por que caralhos você fez isso?"

"de nada, garotinha. tá me devendo duas."

sua mão estala os dedos levantados de lee, que finge sentir uma dor descomunal pelo novo tapa.

"tá muito violenta. foi o chifre?" alfineta vestindo um sorriso ladino.

"vai se foder você também, jeno lee!" grita e vira o corpo para partir, mas ele te impede.

"ei, é sério. como você está?"

o semblante firme te quebra por um instante. ele parece genuinamente preocupado, apesar de não querer confessar. acontece que, por estarem há tanto tempo na vida um do outro, acabaram se acostumando. apesar de inimigos, a face familiar já fora conforto várias vezes para ambas as partes.

"olha, neno..." suspira exausta. "não quero falar sobre isso, tá? não agora."

ele morde o lábio inferior, engolindo outra pergunta. quando vai querer falar sobre? porque ele estaria lá.

"tudo bem, chatinha."

você remexe na bolsa, conquistando a atenção do fofoqueiro do jeno. quando acha o pacote de papel pardo, sem nem olhar nos olhos do menino, estende o braço em sua direção.

"que isso?" toma o pacote nas mãos, espiando o que há dentro.

álcool 70, pomada e band-aids.

"cuida desse corte." limpa a garganta para soar menos carinhosa. "porque ninguém merece olhar pra tua cara já feia com um corte horrível."

vai embora sem dar direito para argumentos. jeno contém um sorriso, olhando para os lados e recuperando a expressão séria, partindo na direção contrária.

os dias passam, mas a dor não parece diminuir. é difícil.

durante a aula de psicologia II, a matéria mais fácil do semestre, você mal consegue se concentrar. está distraída, sentada bem no fundo da sala, pensando em tudo menos na discussão que se desenvolveu há bons minutos.

os momentos junto de jungwoo repassam mais outra vez em sua mente como um filme. nada foi real? será que só você sentiu tudo?

felizmente a aula acabou bem no segundo em que as lágrimas voltaram a molhar o canto dos seus olhos. sai andando apressada, esbarrando sem querer em algumas pessoas e dispara para a escada desativada do bloco C.

sentando num dos degraus, se permite soluçar e liberar todo pranto que bagunça seu coração.

"onde eu errei? por que eu sou tão insuficiente?" você sussurra para si mesma, mesmo sabendo que não é culpada. "por que?"

a porta corta-fogo range de repente, e você pula de susto, pondo a mão no coração. olhando para cima, vê jeno com apenas uma garrafa na mão. o nariz está enfeitado com um band-aid, pelo menos isso.

"tá devendo, chifruda? leva susto não." ele fala entre risos ao sentar num degrau abaixo.

"me erra, jeno."

"quer uma água?" sacode a garrafa na sua frente. "tem que se hidratar depois de chorar tanto."

antes não tivesse aceitado. o gosto péssimo e a queimação na garganta te causam tosse, e você xinga até a penúltima geração do garoto.

"isso é vodka, caralho! seu maluco!"

"é o remédio que você precisa, garotinha. bebe pelo menos mais três goles que tudo passa."

"essa é sua solução pra todos os problemas?"

"a sua não?"

revirando os olhos, toma mais da bebida. jeno sorri e bate palminhas silenciosas ao ver seu rosto se contorcendo pela queimação.

o silêncio abraça o recinto brevemente. o garoto presta atenção no celular enquanto você encara o nada, o corpo já leve dá uma pausa nos pensamentos caóticos de antes.

"universitária, chifrada e consolada pelo meu arqui-inimigo." sai da sua boca como um suspiro. ele bloqueia o celular e volta a prestar atenção em você. "nunca pensei em como seria o fundo do poço."

"você acha que eu sou seu inimigo?" jeno indaga. não dá para entender muito bem o tom de voz que ele usa, a expressão na face também não diz muito.

"foi você que disse isso."

"no segundo ano do ensino médio." afirma, contrariando seu argumento.

não é óbvio que isso é coisa do passado? já são adultos e, apesar de toda implicância, jeno não conhece uma vida sem você.

duvidosamente decepcionado, ele se levanta em direção à saída.

"só pra você saber..." ele hesita antes de fechar a porta. "não acho que você tenha culpa, ele que foi babaca." termina e se vai, te deixando confusa.

e com uma pontinha de arrependimento. e com a garrafinha vazia dele.

quando decide ir embora, a tontura te pega de surpresa. determinada, dá um passo de cada vez até o seu dormitório. mesmo demorando uns 10 minutos a mais, não tem problema. aos trancos e barrancos, chegou bem e viva.

depois que toma banho, o sono bate que não dá para resistir. depois de quase uma semana sem dormir direito, a vodka de jeno lhe concedeu um bom descanso naquela tarde.

sábado jeno fica em casa?

só tem como saber a resposta se você bater na porta.

bate. na. porta. anda logo.

por que está tão nervosa? é só devolver a garrafa e ir curtir o resto do dia livre com sua própria companhia.

chacoalha o joelho e ensaia bater na madeira, cerrando os punhos. hesita.

ai. foda-se, é só o jeno.

é o jeno.

"vai ficar enrolando mais quanto tempo?"

quase morre de susto quando ele abre a porta. o costumeiro sorriso convencido enfeita os lábios do garoto.

"porra!" respira fundo para acalmar o coração acelerado. "que susto, seu maluco!"

ele não diz nada, apenas observa seu showzinho.

"por que você tá pelado?" arregala os olhos, engolindo em seco.

"nunca viu um homem sem camisa, garotinha?" passa as mãos sobre os gominhos do abdômen. você definitivamente não acompanha os dedos dele com os olhos. "tá gostando? eu posso pensar no seu caso."

"nossa, como você é convencido, jeno. nunca em mil anos eu ficaria contigo, se enxerga!" cruza os braços, se concentrando muito em não gaguejar.

"tá, arqui-inimiga." revira os olhos e se apoia no batente. "entra aí."

antes que pudesse refutar, jeno caminha pela sala e não de deixa opção. você entra e fecha a porta atrás de si, acompanhando-o no sofá.

ele toma o controle do videogame nas mãos novamente, fixando os olhos no combate fictício.

"jeno, eu não vou demorar. só quero te devolver a garrafa."

"deixa aí. lavou, pelo menos?" ele pergunta enquanto pressiona vários botões por vez.

não adianta nada porque ele perde, e você ri da pontuação dele. não é tão engraçado, mas você ri de chorar. jeno te encara sem expressão nenhuma.

"não tô entendendo qual é a graça." finge ofendimento, mas a casca dura racha aos poucos. não dá para não rir junto. "se você é tão boa assim, bora competir, pô. quero ver tu me ganhar."

desafio? claro que você topa. não tem mais nada para fazer mesmo. mas só por isso.

"ah tá que eu vou perder meu sábado contigo." seca as lágrimas com uma mão, a outra alcança a bolsa para ir embora.

"para de graça, encrenqueira. teus amigos tão tudo viajando, larga essa bolsa e joga comigo." te oferece o controle número dois. "duvido."

a palavrinha mágica te convence.

como se fosse nada, você ganha jeno de lavada. todas as vezes. sem nenhum pingo de pena. todo crédito aos seus irmãos mais novos, que te ensinaram tudo que sabe.

uma coisa não dá pra negar, você riu como uma criança a tarde (e noite) inteira, ao ponto de não ver o tempo passar. as reclamações de jeno te arrancaram boas risadas, e aí teve a pausa pro lanche. aí não dá pra lanchar sem assistir uma coisinha. só um episódio — foram 5.

já passa das nove quando percebe que precisa ir embora. jeno insiste em te levar em casa, você faz um doce pelo costume, mas a verdade é que andar pelo campus essa hora da noite é sinistro, então cede rápido.

"tá entregue, garotinha." põe as mãos no bolso para esquentar os dedos gélidos.

"valeu, neno. foi mal te alugar hoje."

essa seria a décima revirada de olhos do dia, mas ele se controla. tira as mãos do casaco e te puxa para perto pela manga da blusa, fazendo com que seus corpos se choquem num abraço.

de primeira, você congela ao sentir o corpo dele tão próximo, e também os braços fortes envolvendo sua figura de forma tão... doce.

no modo automático, retribui. enlaça os ombros firmes, esquentando a pontinha do nariz na clavícula cheirosa do mais alto.

"você. não. é. um. peso." murmura cada palavra sobre a curva do seu pescoço, te dá arrepios. "para com isso, tá?" ele volta a te olhar, afrouxando o abraço. "adorei passar o dia com a minha arqui-inimiga."

você ri, envergonhada.

"eu também, arqui-inimigo." admite como se fosse uma verdade difícil, fazendo-o jogar a cabeça para trás e soltar um grunhido. o aperto na sua cintura denuncia que é apenas uma brincadeira.

"esquece essa história, garotinha."

"me faz esquecer."

quase se arrepende de como aquilo soa. se não fosse jeno fechando os olhos e acariciando seu nariz com o próprio; se não fossem suas unhas na nuca arrepiada dele; se não fosse a respiração acelerada dele se misturando com a sua, teria se arrependido.

se não fosse o selinho molhado e hesitante que jeno deixa nos seus lábios, teria se arrependido.

se não fosse a sua coragem de aprofundar o beijo pedindo passagem com a língua, e a massagem que segue, e os sons que os lábios tão saudosos emitem, e as digitais calejadas pelo violão na sua bochecha, e as suas mãos frágeis perdidas no peitoral definido... se não fosse... mas foi. e nada te faria se arrepender do primeiro beijo que te deu a chance de ser feliz.

#nct pt br #nct br au #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers

[ljnsdump]

Everything in Time (Lee Jeno x F!reader)

Jeno x Female reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Sometimes, two people have to fall apart to realize how much they need to fall back together.

Genre: M/F, best friends to lovers, fluff, smut, tiny angst, late 20s established career setting

Warnings: Smut hehe, light edging, daddy kink and everything but no borderline mean and abusive tings, heart break

Word Count: 4,573

This is my nth story, excited for you to read this just because! I loooooove Jeno and I was really excited when I started writing this in my notepad. Hope you enjoy reding it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Read at your own risk!

------

Jeno had just ended a relationship. It was bad, well not so much for him but for his ex. He loved her so much and they've been together for 2 years but Jeno just can't see his future with her. And by future meaning making a family with her, growing old together.

He's overworked himself for this exact reason. He just wants to forget the fact that the pressure of having a family of his own is eating him alive. Jeno spent his nights finishing his papers in his company building. It would just be him who'll be left and the security guards, not even his own assistant. He's constantly being reminded that he's almost 30 now and he's still in young, playful relationships.

That's the time his best friends came in. Jaemin and Y/N.

Jaemin is a surgeon in the making, he's just finishing up his internship as of the moment. He contacted Y/N who was outside the country because he knew that Jeno just needed to relieve his stress.

The three have been best friends ever since grade school up until now and they're the strongest trio everyone has ever seen. At some point in high school the three tied in top 1, their teachers had to verify it again and again to make sure.

"I'm gonna be arriving at around 2 PM on Friday. I have no one to pick me up, can you?" She asks Jaemin on the phone.

He frowns. "That's unfortunately within my shift. I'll just tell Jeno to pick you up. He should be available, he's the only one forcing himself with those schedules trying to be busy."

"Alright. I'll try to call him too."

Y/N packed two large suitcases for this two-day weekend vacation. They rented a small island that has a villa, and of course an amazing beach.

While she's boarding the plane, she calls up Jeno. Oh, and they didn't tell him yet about this vacation nor about her going back home.

He picks up after three rings. "Jeno-ya." She calls him.

"Hmm?"

"I need you to pick me up at the airport at 2 PM. I'm already boarding right now."

Jeno stops everything he's doing. "You're coming here?"

"Yeah, me and Jaem planned a weekend getaway for us. I don't want you to decline because I rarely go home."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped out with the preparations. You know how busy and stressful Jaemin's work can be."

She just loves how her friends are concerned with each other and they always offer each other help without hesitations. "Well, this is somewhat of a surprise for you, you've been MIA and now you're heartbroken. And also a break for Jaemin, you know his work and his fiancee can be bitches sometimes. Don't tell him that I told you that."

Jeno just laughs. "Alright, I'll pick you up. See you soon."

"Thanks, bye."

As soon as the plane lands, she can't contain her excitement. She immediately restarts her phone to refresh the service then texts Jeno.

To: The Unfunny Lee

Plane just landed, can't wait to see you!

She chuckles as she reads the name she saved for his contact number. They used to tease Jeno as the unfunny one before because he gets sulky and pouty right away.

From: The Unfunny Lee

I'm already here waiting for you. See you soon.

And did she ever mention that she's always had the attraction towards him. Jeno always made her feel like a woman. The way he smiles, the lingering stares, the way he talks, it's just different. He's so soft and could never resist her. That's why the attraction just builds up.

Soon enough she got out of the plane and already got her stuff done, she pushes the big baggage cart as she tries to look for Jeno.

She sees her phone ring and Jeno's face pops up on the screen. "Jeno-ya."

"You look smaller than the cart you're pushing." He teases and she immediately turns around to look for him.

"Where are you?" Y/N sees a familiar tall guy wearing black jeans and white pullover walking towards her with his phone on his ear. "Oh, there. Found you." She said and hung up the phone before running to give him a hug. She definitely feels his hard chest and strong arms wrapping around her.

He pats her and says, "Welcome back, shorty. You've grown but not the height." Laughing and pinching her cheek. "How are you? You haven't contacted me for so long." He goes to push her cart for her going out.

"Well, I'm doing good. Business is also good. I kinda distanced myself from you guys because I know you had girlfriends and we wouldn't want them to misunderstand, right?"

Jeno admiringly glances at her. She's always been so considerate and respectful. "Right. But how about you? Relationships?"

She snorts. "I could only wish."

"Why not?"

"They're not for me."

Jeno offered his place for her which she gladly accepted. She hasn't booked any hotel yet actually just because she was lowkey hoping that Jeno would just let her crash for a night before they depart early in the morning.

At night, Jeno, Jaemin, Y.N and Winter, Jaemin's fiance, just decided to meet up at Jeno's place. They ordered a lot of take-outs and bought a couple bottles of beer.

Y/N walks around Jeno's house while waiting for the two. It's just him and a security guard on the compound actually and it's pretty big. She stops by the pool, watching the reflection of the stars on the water.

"How's my place so far?" Jeno asks.

She nods. "Pretty cool. Can't believe it's just you living in a house this big."

"Well, it makes me feel good, you know. It makes me feel that I've succeeded and I can get whatever I want, well most of them."

"Why not all?"

He sighs and stares at her a little longer before saying, "Some are just too hard to reach."

She pretends like she didn't just feel hopeful for a second that she's who he's pertaining to. Jeno just received a text from Jaemin saying they're there already.

"They're here." He says.

"Let's go." They walk together back to the dining area. "You okay? I heard a lot, you know." She asks.

He just crosses his arms and shrugs. "I'm okay."

"I hope you know that it's okay to still be confused and unsure at this age we are in right now. There's really no need to rush, Jeno."

"I wish I could say that to my parents."

"I'll say that to your parents if you can't."

And she's always been strong-minded, and firm. She always knows what she's doing.

When they see Jaemin and Winter in the kitchen preparing the food they bought, Y/N runs to them and gives both a hug. "Hi! OMG, I'm finally seeing you both!"

Jaemin hugs her back. "How was the flight?"

"Tiring. I can't wait to pass out."

"Then just stay here for good so you don't have to fly back and forth."

Her lips purse as her eyes squints in doubt. "There's a lot to consider, not to mention the amount of work. But I've been thinking of it."

"Jeno-ya, talk to her about it. You're the one who knows more about business than me."

Jeno just sits on the table before them. "If she wants to stay, she'll stay."

She turns to him with a knowing smile. "You want me to stay?" But he just shrugs.

"When is this thick cloud of sexual tension between you two ever gonna end?" Jaemin shakes his head.

The night got deeper and it was time to go for Jaemin and Winter. They watched the two get in their car before they head in.

"You wanna watch a movie?" Jeno asks invitingly.

Y/N smiles and looks up to him. "With wine and chocolates?"

"Hell, yeah."

While Y/N picks the movie, Jeno goes to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses then he gathers different kinds of chocolates on a board and brings all of them to the center table in the living room.

She runs to her room and grabs her blanket then goes back to the couch with Jeno. She puts it over both of them and leans to him as the movie starts.

"Thought you were tired?" He asks with a low voice.

"I am." She replies. "I'm probably gonna sleep before the movie ends."

Just a few minutes in, silence filled the room. But it's a tense silence, it's like they're just waiting for each other to say something.

Jeno sighs. "Are you not gonna tell me why you stopped contacting me?"

"You know me, Jeno. I distanced myself from you and Jaem because you guys were already in your own relationships. I just don't want your girlfriends to misunderstand." She explains.

"Why would you lie?"

She turns to him. "What do you mean?"

"You never stopped your contact with Jaemin. I asked multiple times."

Busted. She knows she's busted. "Okay, fine. I stopped contacting you like 4 years ago? That was when you started that casual relationship you had even before Lia." She pauses trying to remember the name. "That girl, was that Karina? Because I knew you'd never see me like how you see her or any other girls in your life. I was so into you and you were too dumb and oblivious to notice. Maybe you were blinded by her or whatever but it doesn't matter anymore. I don't feel that way for you anymore." Her voice shakes at her last statement. That's a lie.

His jaw clenches. "Why didn't you tell me? Everyone fucking knew that I had a thing for you. I was just waiting for you to tell me that you wanted me too."

"I-- I thought that was a joke! You never made it clear, you always smiled or laughed whenever someone mentions it, how am I supposed to know?! You were always flirty with everyone."

"It was true. I was only into you and I only started seeing Karina when you stopped replying or answering my calls."

Her breathing is ragged. She doesn't know what to do, and she's very upset. Why didn't he tell her before? "Whatever."

"Can you feel that it's still you though?" He asks all of a sudden.

But Y/N shakes her head. "It's not that simple anymore, Jeno. I've got someone waiting for my answer in Chicago, I agreed for this vacation because I needed space. I needed time to think."

Jeno couldn't get past the part where she said she has someone waiting for her answer in Chicago. Is he too late? "Y--You have a boyfriend?"

Y/N sighs. "Let's stop talking about this."

They stopped talking but Jeno can't stop thinking about it. He suddenly got so nervous, what if her boyfriend is already proposing to her? What if she says yes? He always thought that his endgame would be her because he honestly can't imagine life with a family without her. Jeno fills his glass with wine and drinks all of it at once.

She slept in his arms, and he just watched her unsure of what to do. He was not able to focus on the movie, all he thought about was her and the missed opportunities. He could've had her without a doubt. He could've.

"Fuck my life." He murmured before picking her up bridal style to bring her to her room. He didn't want to close the door but he had to.

Y/N wears a pair of denim shorts and her dark blue bikini top while Jeno wears white muscle tanks and board shorts. A van comes to pick them up early in the morning, Jaemin is already there.

"Hi!" Y/N greets him excitedly when she enters the vehicle and he fist bumps with Jeno.

They had to travel for 2 hours going to the dock because they had to stop to get groceries and it just felt like minutes because they were just talking and jamming the whole time.

Jeno set his feelings aside because he knew the two set this up for him.

They then ride a speedboat going to the island and it just took them like 10 minutes to get there. Their guide did his job, walking them around, guiding and telling them about some things and guidelines about the island that they have to know.

It's a good thing that they did their shopping because it's literally just them on the island but of course, they can still call if they need something.

"Hey!" Y/N calls the two from the beach. "Let's swim! The water is so pretty! I wanna cry! Ahhh! Ya! Na Jaemin! Lee Jeno!"

The two were arranging their things inside the villa but just laughed, so done while looking at each other when they heard her yell. When they came out, she's already climbing the rocks because there's a big slide on it going to the waters.

"Hey, be careful." Jeno calls out to her.

"Don't worry." She yells at him. Then sat on the edge of the slide, sliding her way down, screaming and waving her hands up high. She splashed on the waters and she's never felt so alive. "Oh my god, what are you two doing, just standing there?!"

Jaemin runs to the waters right away while Jeno took off his shirt first, exposing his let me just say fucking gorgeous, unbelievably hot body that made Y/N look away and blush. But of course they didn't notice.

They just float on their backs for several minutes as they talk and watch the clear skies.

"Can we buy this island so that we can just come here whenever we want?" Y/N jokes.

The sun is setting, they're also preparing for their outdoor barbeque. Y/N is inside, preparing the meats, Jaemin is preparing the fire while Jeno is digging the sand to form a round table and seats for them.

Jeno eventually goes into the kitchen where Y/N is. "You good?"

"Yeah, can you put iced water on the cooler then add the bottle of beer so it'll cool?"

"We have ice?"

"There's a big freezer at the back, they have a lot here."

When Jeno came back he was in a hurry. "Y/N! Y/n, the sky outside is really beautiful because of the sunset, wanna see?"

"Yeah." She immediately washes her hands on the sink before wiping it on her apron. "Lemme grab my phone and camera first."

"Jaemin-ah! We're going to the other side to watch the sunset! Let's go!" Jeno yells at his other friend.

"Yup, coming!"

Y/N sets up her tripod and they take a couple of shots together. "Let's stay for a few minutes." She sits on the sand and the two follow.

"We don't see this everyday." Jaemin says.

"We could." Jeno rebels. "But we're too busy."

Night came, they're a little tipsy, cheeks flushed and they're laughing their asses off as they eat and cook at the same time because of Jaemin's antics.

"We've always been a trio." He says. "Jeno plays the guitar, you sing, and I dance."

"A trio with different talents."

"Yeah, so while you both are doing your things, I just dance beside you. Even interpretative dance if needed." He flares his hands out mimicking a ballerina.

"Remember when we signed up for the homecoming party committee just so we can get free food?" Jeno looks back, laughing. "Y/N ate a lot."

Y/N slaps his bare arm. "Ya! It's not like you didn't. It's not my fault they had so much food."

"And during graduation practice, do you remember? Y/N fell--" Jaemin couldn't continue what he's saying because Y/N tackles him.

"Shut up!" Trying to cover his mouth. "Don't talk about that."

"You rolled down the stairs." Jeno continues while laughing. "Good thing it was just us."

"We just finished lunch and they kept texting us saying the practice had already started. We were in a hurry!" She tries to defend herself.

"It was so funny but we didn't have time to laugh enough."

Later on, Jeno's playing the guitar and they're singing to old songs that they used to play together. He looks at her fondly as she tries to reach the high note and does it flawlessly.

"You've gotten so good." He says and she just smiles in response.

It's past midnight, Jeno and Y/N are cleaning up because Jaemin passed out. His alcohol tolerance really decreased after a long time since he hasn't drank a lot.

"Jeno-ya." Y/N calls Jeno from outside.

He goes out to her. "Hmm?"

"How about Jaemin?"

"I'll help him through the stairs later." He reassures her. "How about you, are you good?"

"Yup, pretty good. Happy. Sleepy."

"Don't forget to change, brush your teeth, wash off the sea water."

She nods. "Yeah, I'll do that right now."

When she was done in the bathroom, she went upstairs to their shared bedroom. It's a big room with a big customized bed for an entire family, it can fit up to 6 people. Jaemin is already sleeping on it while Jeno is on his phone, waiting for her to finish so he could use the bathroom too.

"I'm done, Jen."

He looks up cutely like a puppy, obviously looks sleepy already. He goes downstairs with his things. Later on, when he comes back, Y/N and Jaemin are on each side of the bed which means he has to be in the center. He crawls in slowly, Y/N turns to look at him.

"I thought you were sleeping already." He whisper-yells.

She whispers back to him, "You look like a puppy."

"What does that mean?"

"You look cute." She notices that he's so far from her. Not that she minds, the bed is big so they get to sleep however they want but he's really far. "Why are you so far away? Wouldn't Winter be jealous to see you too close to Jaemin?" She jokes.

He just shrugs. "If we're close together, I may not stop myself from cuddling with you."

"I wanna cuddle with you though." She pouts.

"Stop that." He says authoritatively.

She whines, "Why?"

"You said you have a boyfriend."

Her eyebrows furrow. "I never said that."

"Yesterday, you said you have someone in Chicago waiting for your answer."

Y/N laughs. "Idiot. He's just a casual partner, just like how you and Karina were." Indirectly explaining that they're fuckbuddies. "He said he's developing feelings for me, I can't reciprocate that."

And suddenly his chest loosens up. He was able to breathe a little better now. "Casual partners? For how long?"

"Two years. I have needs too, Jeno Lee."

"Well, you made it sound like he's proposing to you so that's why I thought about it."

"Stop talking and just cuddle with me." His warmth hovers over her and she smiled when she felt his arm scoop her close to him. "You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" She mumbles and she snuggles as well.

Jeno buries his head on her neck. "Since fucking high school."

"Stop lying."

But he tickles her tummy lightly making her giggle and squirm. Jaemin who was sleeping mumbles, "Can you two fuck somewhere else? I want to sleep."

"Ya! We're just talking!" Y/N immediately defends.

"He's asleep, he doesn't know what he's saying." Jeno whispers, holding her down. "Sleep, Aya."

Her eyes beamed. He's never called her that ever since she left for Chicago. She turns around to see him with excitement on her face. "You're calling me Aya again." She mentions.

Jeno looks down at her sparkling eyes, holding the urge to kiss her forehead. "You've always been my ligaya."

"You keep saying those things but you actually had other girls before me."

"Remember during college, I don't ever allow you to enter my room."

"Yes, because you hid your drugs there?" She grumpily whines but he just smiled.

"I never wanted you in my room because when I saw you once sitting on the edge of my bed like an innocent girl, I almost couldn't stop myself." He groaned in her ear that gave her goosebumps. "Seeing you in my bed, fuck I'd die for that."

She nibbles on her lip as her eyes widen. "I'll sleep." Then she turns her back on him, now feeling his hard on against her ass.

"Yeah."

Jaemin was the one to wake up first, he sees the two spooning and quickly snaps a pic and sends it to their own group chat before he leaves the room and goes to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Jeno was the first one to wake up, he just let his arm drape around her, hugging her like a pillow. And just minutes later, she wakes up too.

"Do you like that guy from Chicago?" He asks half-asleep.

Y/N rubs her eyes and looks at him with squinted eyes to make sure he's not sleep talking only to find out that the man beside her is topless.

Then sighs. "I can't. I could never imagine myself being his girlfriend, but I am just scared to reject him. We've been in that kind of casual, non-committal relationship for a long time and he's always there when I need him."

"Good."

She chuckles. "Why?"

"You said you have needs, right?" He whispers. "I'm pretty sure I can satisfy you better than anyone else."

"You can talk the talk but can you walk the walk?" Jeno didn't say anything. He just stood up and went to lock the door. "I was just kidding." She laughs and stands up immediately but he grabs her before she could run away.

He held her with both her arms tightly, planting feathery kisses on her jaw. "You smell so good, baby." Then his kisses go down to her neck and she just wants to melt into a puddle.

She just loves how his warmth wraps around her. "Jaemin might come."

"You'll tell him." Jeno picks her up and traps her against the wall as their lips crash with each other, turning and twisting their tongues together. His kisses then left her mouth, to her cheeks, then to her ear. "I'm gonna satisfy the fuck out of your needs, baby." She feels the smirk on his face that gives her chills.

Then he brings her to the bed. She takes off her top revealing her perked up mounds. Y/N looks up to him, batting her eyelashes like an innocent girl and it drives him crazy. His neck is all red, he's so ready to ruin her but just holding himself back. She slowly removes her pajama shorts and cotton thongs as well. Y/N lays back with her arms supporting her weight while not breaking their eye contact. "All yours, Lee."

He could've sworn his cock throbbed after hearing that. Jeno's jaw twitched a little as he ran his fingers through his locks. "Good." He replies then grabs her ankle pushing her to turn and now she's on her back, ass up. Jeno is getting the best view of her ass and glistening pussy. His hand caresses her inner thigh for a few seconds before redirecting his fingers to her very wet core making her squirm and whimper in pleasure.

Rubbing circles, now she's helpless. He feels how needy she is because he hasn't even done anything aside from rubbing her and now she's looking so fucked out and a moaning mess for him, rubbing herself against his fingers too. "I-- I need y--your fingers. Please. Jeno. Please." He can't help but lick his bottom lip, he just wants to devour her right now, he wants to own her, he wants to be in her, he wants to feel her, he wants to be the only one who can make her feel this way.

"As you wish, love." He inserts two fingers, pumping it fast in her and she's moaning uncontrollably. "Shh. Jaemin might hear." Y/N tries to bite her bottom lip to suppress the moans. She pulls her own hair and massages her tits.

Jaemin goes up the stairs, trying the door knob a couple of times but it's locked. "Jeno-ya, Y/N, breakfast is ready."

"Answer him." He growls on to her ears without stopping his fingers from fucking her. Y/N's eyes widen, Jaemin will know for sure. But he stops. "I said, answer him."

"Jae--" His cock suddenly slips into her, making her moan and Jaemin definitely heard it. "Jaem, I-- we-- you can eat ahead!" Then she dunks her face on to the soft pillows biting them hard.  "Jeno, please." Consecutive moans came out from her lips and that was Jaemin's cue to leave.

"You're so fucking warm, Aya." He pulls her hair hard, making her lookup as he pounds hard into her. "No one will ever satisfy you the way that I do. Not even your Chicago boy."

It was too much for her, he was relentless and powerful. All the sexual frustrations that were pent up for years are finally revealed. And he's literally tearing her in half with his size.

"I've been imagining this day, me drilling into your dripping pussy and it's even better than what I have imagined."

She couldn't respond or say anything, she likes how he's fucking her dumb.

"Jen, cumming. I'm cumming." She pants, grasping into the sheets tighter while he rubs her clit with his free hand.

"Not until I cum. Fuck--- Aya, you're so fucking gorgeous."

"Please. Please. Please. Fill me up, daddy. I need you to fill me up." It's like Jeno got possessed with some kind of devil, he's pounding into her harder than before like she pushed a button.

"I'm gonna fuck you full of my cum. Let go, babygirl." Strings of white liquid spurts out from his tip in her as her orgasm also washes through her. And when he pulled out, white liquid came flowing out of her pussy. "Next time I'm buying you a plug."

Y/N drops to the bed, tired and weak. Her cheeks are flushed, sweating and breathless, just like how Jeno imagined and it gave him an assurance that he definitely fucked her real good.

Jeno plops on the bed beside her, she smiles weakly at him, covering her body with the sheets. They stay looking at each other's eyes.

"Stay." He mumbles. "I want you to stay. I don't want to keep missing you." She feels her heart inflating and her stomach being filled with butterflies. The fact that he's being vocal about this right now and not just staying quiet like how he usually is when it comes to his feelings. "But if you don't want t--"

"I'll do everything I can so I can stay." She cuts him off. "You're gonna be mine this time." She promises.

Jeno smiles and pulls himself close to her then plants a kiss on her forehead. "I'm all yours, Aya. You know how obsessed I am with you, I'm going nowhere without you."

"Jaemin is never talking to us again."

"He'll just need a night with Winter."

#best friends to lovers #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct smut #nct au #jeno x reader #jeno #nct jeno #jeno fanfic #jeno x you #mark lee #jaemin #nomin #kpop #kpop smut #kpop au #kpop fanfic #jeno fic recs #jeno fic #jeno fics #kpop imagines #lovestory #boyfriend #best friends #breakup #heartache #heartbroken #heartbreak #kpop boys

[phoxphenex]

hi <3 I was wondering, if you could do a fake text for Jeno, based on Taylor Swifts Song "You belong with me" ? Basically best friends to lovers, a little bit angsty but with a fluffy ending ? :) <3 Oh and I need to let you know, that I absolutely adore your work, keep it going love <3

“you belong with me” texts with jeno

#scenarios #nct social media au #nct #nct dream #nct texts #nct jeno #lee jeno #jeno #jeno fanfic #jeno x reader #best friends to lovers #you belong with me #heart emoji

[cannedapricot]

untitled. || ljn

in which you and lee jeno were definitely friends but you were also definitely more than just friends. frankly, your friend group has had enough of the not so subtle flirting and unbearable tension.

word count: 1.4k

genre, warnings: fluff, slice of life, college!au, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, profanity, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of alcohol consumption, suggestive themes but nothing 18+ happens they just make out, mentions of minor car crash

bgm: message in a bottle by taylor swift, 1 2 365 4 me by kennen, oh shit...are we in love? by valley

a/n: something small so i can get over movie jeno. bro was glorious. i've also listed some songs i listened to while writing and i think listening while reading would be a vibe - lmk how you guys feel about it!

It was a cozy Friday evening. The rain was pelting against the glass windows and you could faintly hear the shouts of your fellow students below as they hurried back to their dormitories. The candle light flickers and shadows dance along the walls. Jeno had his head on your shoulder, faintly humming along to whatever was playing on his Alexa. You were sat on his bed in one of his varsity hoodies, scrolling through social media in a desperate attempt to keep up with your acquaintances' lives.

"Wait, Dejun broke up?!"

Jeno perks up at your small exclamation, craning his neck to peek at your screen.

"How can you tell?"

"He deleted all his posts with them and is listening to glimpse of us. What a shame, I was rooting for them."

"You and your personal celebrity couples." Jeno teases, jokingly shaking his head. "Who's next?"

"Maybe if Mark grows a pair and asks his lab partner out they could be next." You snort, leaning so your head was against Jeno's.

Enjoying quality time with your friend was one of your favorite ways to spend any free time you had amongst your chaotic schedule. Between due dates and classes, you and Jeno always managed to make time for each other. Although, most times just involved one of you showing up at the other's door without prior notice.

"Jeno, have you seen my jacket anywhere? The blue denim one?" Jaemin, Jeno's roommate and self proclaimed best friend asks, opening the bedroom door without knocking. The rest of your friend group insisted on still going out for drinks, even though its raining cats and dogs outside.

"Hn, no?" You feel a weight come off your shoulders as Jeno raises his head to address the question. "Wouldn't it be in your stinky pile of laundry?"

"Hey, I did my laundry yesterday, it's not stinky." Jaemin sticks his tongue out. "Y/n, if you see it in Jeno's closet let me know okay? I swear he steals my clothes."

"Roger that."

Jaemin nods happily, closing the door before Jeno manages to land a pillow throw. As Jeno returns to his place on your shoulder you hear the rest of your friends through the thin walls.

"Did you find your jacket?"

"No. But I did find Jeno and y/n snuggling against each other."

"We should start charging y/n rent."

"Isn't our rent included in tuition though?"

"Wasn't it a separate payment?"

You choose to ignore the conversation as the boys start to argue about dormitory rent. A calm vibration comes from your shoulder and your heart skips a beat from the proximity.

"For your information, Jaemin steals my clothes."

"Whatever you say, champ."

Chenle holds in a laugh as the group bid goodbye to you and Jeno. Upon reaching the ground floor, he allowed himself to finally let it out.

The six boys didn't leave the two of you alone without purpose. They all knew about your little crush on each other. It was so blatantly obvious. The way Jeno constantly checked his phone for updates when you had gone out with an old friend, the way he paces around the common area when he expects you to come over, and, not to mention, the untitled song he wrote for you.

It was all amusing to them. How could he miss the way you looked at him with hearts in your eyes, the way you would happily spend all night in the library with him when he had an assignment due, the way your arm always found its way around his.

"They really are idiots." Jaemin had said, a fond grin on his face.

Really, it was cute, but got frustrating. Slow burn and mutual pining were never Donghyuck's favorite tropes. Watching you hide your embarrassment as Jeno fixes your hair made him want to push the two of you in a closet and scream for you guys to just kiss already.

So in order to prevent Donghyuck from committing a crime against romance, Renjun simply suggested that they give the couple more "alone time". Which leads the boys to this situation on a Friday night, heading to the pub in the rain.

"They better be dating by the time we're back." Donghyuck mutters, attempting to stay dry under Mark's hazardous umbrella holding.

"What do you even call their relationship right now?" Jisung voices over the rain, "not friends, obviously."

"A situationship?"

"No. That's what Yangyang had a while back. Remember how toxic it was?"

"Friends with benefits?"

"Chenle... Do you know what that is?"

"Guys, just leave it untitled for now. They're going to be dating soon anyway."

Jeno met you on the first day of classes. You had turned up ten minutes late, breathing heavily as you stumbled into the free seat in the last row. The seat next to him. Red in the face from running and hair messy from the wind, you looked so loveable to him. Never would he have imagined that you would be by his side like you were now. Though regretfully, as a friend. He wasn't sure how you'd react if he told you he wanted to be more.

You had your head in his lap, phone forgotten as you rambled to him about how stupid Yangyang's situationship partner was. He gently raked his fingers through your hair, reacting accordingly to your story, gaze never leaving your face.

A guitar melody meets the end of the last song and a familiar voice sounds through the room. Your story stops abruptly and confusion dons Jeno's features before he realizes what's playing through the speakers.

"No, wait, don't listen to this! Close your ears."

"I can't physically do that! And why can't I listen? You're singing! Did you write this song?"

As Jeno frantically attempts to scramble to stop the song, you wrap you arms around his torso, pulling him back on the bed. To prevent him from moving, you lie on top of him. Jeno can feel your laughs through his own body and he wonders whether you could feel his heartbeat through yours. With his strength, he could push you off and turn the song off if he really wanted to. But when it comes to you, he strength somehow never works.

"Jeno, this song is so cute. Who's it about?" You smirk down at him, "you have a crush on someone?"

You weren't asking because you were purely curious. You were asking because you had a big fat crush on the man and needed to know if he liked someone else. Though, you didn't know if you were ready for the answer. You've heard the heartbreak horror stories. They were always worse when the couple weren't dating but you couldn't help it. Somewhere along the line, you had fallen, and by that time, a platonic relationship had been established. Somehow, you convinced yourself that you'd rather stay friends than potentially losing what the two of you already had.

The rest of the friend group knew. You knew they knew. Hiding your feelings weren't your strongest point and you definitely caught Chenle making kissy faces behind you and Jeno once.

So, to say you were nervous about his answer was an understatement. But you weren't about to let him know.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Huh?

Jeno turns his head away, avoiding eye contact. A redness creeps up his cheeks and his throat feels dry.

"It's about you."

The cat's out of the bag. Jeno wants to scream in embarrassment. He can't believe he leaked his own embarrassing song about you. He can't believe this is how you find out about his feelings.

"Oh." A matching redness creeps up your own cheeks. "You think my eyes have stars in them?"

"Shut up."

Laughter settles over the both of you before your eyes meet. Jeno's eyes move down to your lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own absent mindedly.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Just our luck."

"I can't believe we witnessed a car crash?"

"At least it was a minor one. Nobody got hurt which is great news."

"Hang on, we have to tell those two we're going to be home late."

Jeno pulls away as his phone alerts him of a message received. You glance over at the screen, giggling at the content. Mark had sent a photo of the six of them posing with the police.

Just witnessed a car crash. Gonna be home late.

"Great, we can continue making out then." Jeno mumbles, throwing his phone aside and pulling you back in.

#nct #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fanfics #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagines #fluff #friends to lovers #mutual pining #lee jeno scenarios #lee jeno imagines #college!au #idiots to lovers #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines

[lovesuhng]

Inseparável amigo (parte 2) - Johnny Suh

casal: johnny x fem!leitora gênero: angst; fluff; friends to strangers to lovers wc: 1759 sinopse: Johnny era seu melhor amigo e amor platônico durante os tempos do colégio, mas partiu sem ao menos se despedir. 10 anos depois, vocês se reencontram na reunião da turma de 2013. Será que você ainda sente o mesmo em relação ao seu ex-melhor amigo? Que tal dar uma nova chance a ele? nota da autora: Escrevi esse plot no twitter porque vi umas fotos lindas do Johnny (que são essas fotos) e prometi a uma amiga que iria escrever, por isso irei postar em inglês em um futuro próximo. A principal é fã da banda McFLY (assim como eu), então se você não conhece a banda, dê essa oportunidade a eles! Confiram Broken By You, o feat que eles tem com o Fresno.

Naquele mesmo dia, Johnny tinha te mandado uma mensagem, que foram seguidas por várias outras diariamente. Não podia negar que Johnny estava se esforçando para conquistar sua amizade e sua confiança mais uma vez. Ele te perguntava sobre o seu trabalho, seus novos hobbies, se você tinha notícias de amigos no colégio, enfim, queria saber o que tinha acontecido durante esses anos. Não podia negar também que estava gostando dessa atenção que estava recebendo dele.

Mas algo ainda te incomodava: Johnny em nenhum momento falou sobre a vida dele e o porquê dele ter partido sem se despedir. Queria perguntar, sentia que ele te devia uma explicação, mas mesmo assim tinha receio de tocar nesse assunto, afinal, não queria pressioná-lo.

Era sexta à noite, depois de uma semana longa de trabalho, você estava em casa. Tinha acabado de tomar um banho quente e olhava o celular enquanto comia algo. Johnny tinha mandado algumas mensagens, entre elas, um convite para tomar um café no dia seguinte, disse que queria conversar com você, além de te ver.

E lá estava ele, em frente ao café combinado, te esperando. Johnny andava de um lado para o outro visivelmente nervoso, olhando o tempo todo para o relógio, por que tinha inventado de chegar tão cedo? Ele só parou quando te viu andando em sua direção, usando um vestido que ia até o seu calcanhar e um all star branco. Poderia jurar que você era um anjo que tinha vindo o buscar. Você não queria parecer nervosa vendo Johnny mais uma vez, principalmente quando ele estava usando uma regata branca com uma camisa listrada por cima, jeans mais largo e um boné, que só deixava as pontas dos cabelos longos à mostra. Mais uma vez, Johnny estava a personificação do seu ‘tipo ideal’, porém você faria de tudo para não transparecer isso. O homem te recepcionou com um belo sorriso, seguido de um ‘você está tão linda’ que te deixou totalmente corada, logo vocês escolheram o que iria beber. Johnny se surpreendeu quando você não escolheu um latte, preferindo um ice coffee, pelo que ele lembrava, você odiava café preto, então explicou a ele que havia mudado alguns hábitos por questões de saúde. Depois de alguns momentos conversando, você finalmente disse:

“O que você queria conversar comigo?” Sua voz denunciou que você estava nervosa ao fazer essa pergunta, por mais que esperasse o que Johnny fosse falar.

“Acho que você deve estar curiosa pelo fato de eu ter ido para o outro lado do mundo sem me despedir.” Apenas acenou a cabeça. “E também acho que você merece uma explicação. Eu estava apenas com medo.” Sua cara denunciava que você tinha ficado confusa com aquilo. “Muitas coisas passaram pela minha cabeça quando recebi a notícia que tinha sido aprovado para estudar na universidade que sempre quis. Além da felicidade, fiquei inseguro, com medo de tudo dar errado e decepcionar meus pais, de ficar longe das pessoas que amo e de você principalmente. Você sabe que odeio me despedir das pessoas...”

“Mas eu não era qualquer pessoa, John.” Ao ouvir você o chamando pelo nome, Johnny sabia que você estava chateada e séria. “Eramos melhores amigos, compartilhávamos tudo. Você sumiu no dia da nossa formatura, você me deixou sem se importar como eu estava me sentindo. Se você tivesse falado que iria para longe, claro que eu ficaria triste, mas iria entender que era para o seu melhor, mas sumir sem ao menos dar tchau partiu meu coração. Essa sua explicação não faz o menor sentido.”

Johnny olhava em seus olhos e percebia o quanto você tinha sofrido todos esses anos. “Tem mais uma coisa.” Você incentivou para que ele continuasse. Então, ele tomou uma de suas mãos que estava em cima da mesa e começou a fazer carinho nela. “Eu ‘fugi’ porque também estava tentando fugir dos meus sentimentos porque… eu estava me apaixonando por você.”

Não sabia o que estava sentindo naquele momento. Era um misto de descrença com alívio, raiva com alegria. Queria se jogar nos braços de Johnny e correr dele ao mesmo tempo. Então, quer dizer que seu amor da adolescência era correspondido? 

“Sei que você vai me odiar por isso, mas, se fosse para te perder, que fosse pela distância e não pelos meus sentimentos não correspondidos.”

“Você sabe que isso não faz o menor sentido, não é?” Soltou uma risadinha indignada com aquilo e separou a sua mão da de Johnny. “Eu também era apaixonada por você. Naquela noite da formatura, eu iria te falar e foi por isso que eu fiquei tão triste. Eu te amei Johnny, muito mesmo. Por mais que eu tenha ficado com raiva na época, hoje não estou mais. Não somos mais os mesmos adolescentes, somos adultos e vamos aprendendo a lidar com nossos sentimentos”. Nesse momento, Johnny percebeu que você tinha se tornado uma mulher maravilhosa, que se distanciava da adolescente insegura dos tempos de escola e a confissão dela o pegou de surpresa.

“Então, você me perdoa por todas as merda que fiz?”

“Cara, você aparece 10 anos depois, assumindo todos os seus erros, pedindo desculpas e ainda por cima estando um puta de um gostoso, é claro que te perdoo.”

A risada do Johnny ecoou pelo café e você finalmente sentiu que tinha se curado de uma ferida que estava aberta há anos. 

No começo da noite, Johnny fez questão de te acompanhar até o seu apartamento em uma caminhada cheia de histórias e recordações dos tempos antigos. 

“Bom, está entregue.”

“Confesso que estava tão nervosa para nosso encontro hoje, mas foi muito agradável. Muito obrigada por essa tarde maravilhosa.”

“Então, esse foi um encontro?” Johnny disse levantando uma de suas sobrancelhas e em um tom que lhe deixou muito corada. Ele tinha essa mania de flertar com você desde quando eram adolescentes.

“Ah, não foi muito encontro… mas você entendeu o que eu quis dizer, então para de graça!” Mais uma vez o homem riu e quando viu que você estava prestes a se despedir, te interrompeu dizendo:

“Poderia me dar um abraço antes de ir?”

Você apenas ficou na ponta dos pés, colocou as mãos nos ombros dele e o puxou para um abraço, sentiu as mãos dele agarrarem a sua cintura, te levantando do chão. Seus gritinhos no meio de risadas fizeram Johnny rir também. Quando Johnny te colocou novamente no chão, foi se afastando devagar até que seus rosto ficaram bem próximos. O olhar intenso de Johnny, seus olhos percorrendo cada pedacinho do rosto do seu (não mais ex) melhor amigo como se quisesse decorar aquela nova versão dele. Então seu olhar pousou nos lábios dele e Johnny entendeu como um sinal. Foi apenas um selinho demorado, mas o suficiente para mexer com todo o seu corpo e com o coração de Johnny. Aquela foi a prova que ele não estava somente disposto a ser seu amigo, mas a ser algo mais. 

“Deu pra perceber que ainda sou apaixonado por você?” Ele disse assim que vocês se separaram.

“Acho que sim” Você soltou uma risadinha, ainda de mãos dadas com ele. “Johnny, sei que você não está me pedindo nada agora, mas vamos com calma? Você voltou recentemente e, por mais que eu tenha amado esse beijo, queria um tempo para conhecer mais sobre o Johnny adulto”

Johnny fez um carinho gostoso em sua bochecha, que automaticamente te fez fechar os olhos, como tinha saudade dos toques dele, agora com outro significado. “Te darei o tempo que for preciso. Esperei 10 anos e não me importo de esperar mais um pouco.”

E você não imaginaria o quão determinado Johnny estava em te conquistar. Te ligava quase todos os dias só para ouvir a sua voz, sempre que possível ia te buscar no trabalho, amava assistir filmes só para ficar grudadinho em você, chamava para alguns dates que você amava que iam desde tomar um sorvete na esquina até em ir na loja de discos mais cara da cidade. Amava cada momento que passava ao lado dele e amava mais ainda o fato dele estar respeitando o seu espaço.

Mais uma sexta tinha chegado, você tinha mandado uma mensagem para Johnny pedindo para ir em seu apartamento pois, além de querer vê-lo, você estava chateada por não ter conseguido o ingresso do show de sua banda favorita da adolescência, McFLY, e queria fazer algo para se distrair. Johnny já estava em seu apartamento, vocês estavam jogados no sofá, tomando um vinho que ele tinha trazido e percebeu como você estava chateada, sabia que essa banda era muito importante para você, além de ser o primeiro show deles em anos.

“Se eu soubesse que você ia ficar nessa tristeza, nem tinha vindo.”

“Ah Johnny, me entenda, é o McFLY! Eles foram muito importantes para formar minha personalidade de fã, você sabe disso.”

“Sei, por isso não vou deixar você ficar triste por causa disso.” Então, ele tirou um envelope de dentro da jaqueta e te entregou. Você estava sem entender o que estava acontecendo, como sempre é quando está com o Johnny, mas deu um pulo do sofá quando abriu o envelope: eram dois ingressos para o show que você tanto queria.

“Mas… como? O ingresso esgotou em minutos!”

“Digamos que tenho um amigo fotógrafo que irá trabalhar no show e ele me devia um favor” Johnny disse dando de ombros, como se aquilo fosse a coisa mais fácil do mundo, você estava prestes a dar um abraço nele, quando o mesmo te parou. “Sei que você está muito animada com os ingressos, mas você poderia dar uma olhada no bilhete que está aí dentro?”

Então foi aí que você teve a segunda e maior surpresa da noite:

“Uma vez você me disse que tinha o sonho de ir para um show do McFLY e viver o clichê de dançar e cantar ‘All About You’ com o seu namorado. O ingresso você já tem.

Será que eu posso ser o seu namorado?”

O homem em sua frente estava nervoso, porém sorria, esperando calmamente a sua resposta. 

“Não existe pessoa melhor para ser o meu namorado. Claro que você pode.” Foi aí que Johnny de abraçou com todas as forças que ele tinha e te beijou, como sempre quis, cheio de um amor guardado por tantos anos.

Dizem que o amor é paciente, acontece na hora certa. Talvez não era para ser naquela época, mas sabia que agora era certo dar essa oportunidade ao Johnny, que ninguém te faria mais feliz nesse mundo do que o seu inseparável amigo.

#nct #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct fluff #johnny suh #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #nct br au #nct x reader #nct 127 fluff #nct drabbles #johnny nct #nct johnny #johnny drabble #johnny au #nct 127 br au #nct 127 au #nct pt au #friends to lovers

[smileyerim]

half baked stories: maybe i’m jealous

college best friends to lovers jaehyun, entirely unedited, no warnings

“I’m sorry, what? What’s your problem?” The question is genuine. All you were doing was fixing yourself a pregame drink before going out for drinks with this guy you met online. Jaehyun showed up to your apartment no less than 3 minutes ago, unannounced you’d like to add, and began yelling at you because of the date.

“You’re being careless and stupid. Do you not realize that this shit isn’t safe? Like you don’t know any of these dudes. You don’t know what they could do.” He says. You don’t know where this attitude of his came from, but you’re not interested in hearing it.

You scoff and roll your eyes before giving him your signature look, “They’re just tinder dates, everyone goes on tinder dates. You’re telling me everyone who has ever gone on a date with someone from online is stupid?”

“This isn’t about everyone! This is about you!” He raises his voice, fire behind his eyes.

“What makes me so different, huh? I’m a big girl, Jaehyun.” His eyes soften for a moment before speaking again.

“I know that, you know I know that. Don’t pretend I don’t know that.”

“Then what the fuck is your issue?” You raise your voice now.

“I don’t want you going out on these random ass tinder dates!” He yells again, standing this time.

“Why!” You yell louder than him. He should know better than to argue with you, you’ve been friends for years. He knows you never back down from a fight, and you’ve never lost.

He groans and let’s out a frustrated laugh “I already told you!”

“And I already told you why that wasn’t an issue, so why are we still talking about it?” Your stare could burn holes into him, yet he hasn’t broken his gaze on you.

“I still don’t want you to go!” A frustrated hand runs through his hair.

“Why the fuck would that matter to me?” Your yell.

He gives you a confused look, “Maybe because I’m your best friend and I’m just looking out for you?”

“Really? Because you’re acting more like a jealous boyfriend.” You regret your words immediately after saying them because you can see the heartbreak behind his eyes. He’s defeated.

“Fine, Y/N.” He says quietly, breaking eye contact to go pick up his jacket he lazily threw on your sofa earlier.

His back is facing you, and with a deep breath he says, “Maybe I am.”

“What?” Is all you can say, needing to hear those words again. As if you could hear much over the sound of your pounding heartbeat in your ears.

He turns to look at you and there’s a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before, “Maybe I am jealous.” You gulp and break the eye contact, focusing on a black shoe mark on the wall where Jaehyun got too drunk and forced you to dance with him around your apartment. Scanning the room now you’re attention is caught to every single piece of Jaehyun that’s here. Your ugliest throw pillow that you can’t bring yourself to get rid of because Jaehyun likes to hug it while watching movies. His spare laptop charger he bought specifically to keep here at your house because he kept forgetting his charger every time he came over to study. The empty red wine bottle you use as a flower vase now, the fanciest bottle of wine you’d ever had, that Jaehyun bought for you and shared with you to celebrate landing your internship.

He scoffs when you don’t look back at him, shaking his head with a disappointing laugh. “I’ll see you around, Y/N” and you can hear the pain in his voice as he walks towards the door.

You don’t know what comes over you in that moment besides an intense feeling like this is a “now or never” moment, the potential for a new chapter in your life to open. You don’t want any part of your life if he’s not in it, and that’s why you do exactly what you do.

You kiss him. By grabbing his wrist, pulling him back and with one hand on the back of his neck you pull his face down to yours and you kiss him.

Frankly, you’re just as shocked as he is by the gesture, but when you finally feel that he’s kissing you back you move your lips against his.

When you lean back, there’s stars in his eyes as he stares, his eyes flicking back and forth between both of your eyes. His nose is a little bit red and his lips are puffy.

There are no words possible to be said, what could there be? How could one describe a moment like this? What could you say that your kiss didn’t?

So you don’t speak, and take the moment to memorize every feature on his face and commit the look in his eyes to your memory forever.

He’s the first to break, giggling and dropping his head. You can’t help but laugh too. You’re not even sure what you’re laughing about or for, but you’re laughing.

He pulls you into a hug then, sighing and leaning his head to rest on yours. “The fuck was that for, huh?” He says softly with a little giggle in his voice again, swaying you both side to side in the embrace.

He doesn’t need a response, so you don’t give one. Your actions spoke the loudest, always have. He had to severely adjust his expectations of communication when he met you, as you were usually careless with your words but knew exactly how to pinpoint your emotions in the things you did. Jaehyun was the exact opposite, using his words to express exactly how he thought and felt, but was impulsive in the way he acted. You two balance each other well, and have taught each other how to communicate better.

Now that Jaehyun thinks of it, his life has done nothing but improve since he met you.

With that thought bringing an extreme amount of overwhelming, almost painful, warmth to his chest, he leans back to search your eyes for a moment for any hesitation. There was none, of course there wasn’t, so he leans down and kisses you this time.

#ficscafe #half baked drabble series #smileyerim #autumn writes jaehyun #nct #nct fluff #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jeong jaehyun fluff #jaehyun drabble #kpop #jaehyun fluff #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct jaehyun fluff #college jaehyun #college!au #college!au jaehyun #best friends to lovers #best friends to lovers jaehyun

[ohhmydyosfics]

(Chenle-centric)(Renminle) have you met my boyfriend?

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Renjun says. “I should've introduced you sooner. Jaemin, have you met my boyfriend?” This is normally when most guys apologize and back off, but Jaemin just gives Chenle an obviously appraising once-over that leaves Chenle feeling equal parts flattered and objectified. “Oh,” he says. “Okay.” “Okay?” Renjun asks, blinking. “Your boyfriend is cute too,” Jaemin says, smiling at Chenle. “Are you guys looking for a third?”

Jaemin isn't the first guy to be interested in dating Renjun. He's just the first guy to be interested in joining the relationship. Their fake relationship.

#have you met my boyfriend? #Renminle #Renmin #Renle #Chenmin #Renjun #Chenle #Jaemin #NCT #NCT U #NCT Dream #fanfic #oneshot #pining #friends to lovers #angsty #polyamory #college AU #fake dating #fake relationship #cute

[liliansun]

TEASER - NEVER LET ME GO | LDH

pairing | lee haechan x fem reader

synopsis | it’s pretty much a given when it comes to friends of a long time that one will fall for the other, so you’re not surprised by how long you’ve kept it to yourself. unbeknownst to you, you’re not the only one holding things back and once the truth is out there’s no going back.

genre | university au, childhood/best friends -> lovers, fluff, angst

warnings | swearing, haechan is kinda rude, mentions of sex (non-detailed, just briefly brushed over), winter calls jaemin an idiot (playfully)

featuring | nct dream, heeseung from enha, chaewon from lesserafim, winter from aespa, ryujin from itzy

wc | 6.2k

release | read here!

teaser wc | 0.5k

a/n | i haven’t written in a while so if this ends up shit in the end I’m genuinely sorry :) also I don’t have my permanent taglist anymore bc I genuinely didn’t think I’d write again so I’m sorry for all who don’t get an immediate tag

📍send an ask or comment to be added to a taglist

“Why’d you get food without me, I said I was gonna pay!” He says, whining as he looks at your plate. You turn your head, staring at his almost guilty expression. “Hyuck, you were off doing your thing so I came to get food.” He sits on the opposite side of you with a frown, picking some food he knew you only got for him off your tray. “Since some of us are here can we talk about the back to school party this weekend?” Winter announced. Jaemin whipped his head toward her slowly, squinting his eyes. “You do know it’s been a month since school started right?” His lack of ability to pick up the slight sarcastic meaning by the party title earned him a punch to the shoulder by Winter. “Yes you idiot, god why do you even talk.”

Jaemin winces as he rubs his shoulder, mouthing to you with a smile that Winter was apparently in love with him. You giggle, continuing your meal till it was nearly done. When you finally notice that Haechan took the cake you had, you frown. You could’ve easily gotten another one, but the one you had was one of the last few on display. Jeno noticed your sudden sadness and put his cake onto your tray. You flash him a smile, mentally thanking him. The rest of the table watches the exchange happen and even more so how Haechan’s expression changes while watching. As you look up confused as to why everyone was eyeing the three of you, you then turn your head to Haechan who was giving Jeno a hard stare.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, he seems to visibly soften at your touch while shifting his gaze onto you instead. “Okay, now that whatever that was is over, I’m gonna go.” Ryujin says as she gets up from the table. You give her a questioned look as she signals for you to follow her. Winter does the same, stealing your cake off your tray. “My cake!” You say, quickly walking around the table to get your dessert. “Sorry hyuck, I’m stealing your girl!” She says as she and Ryujin giggle while leaving the dining hall. You have to jog to catch up to them, finally getting the cake from Winter. “So are we gonna just ignore that or what?”

“Ignore what?” Ryujin scoffs as Winter looks at you in shock. “C’mon y/n, you can’t tell me that boy isn’t head over heels for you.” You don’t comment, staring down at your cake while following along the girls. “Jeno was just being sweet, don’t read too much into it.” “No girl, not Jeno, Haechan!” Winter says, smiling at you widely. “Even I saw those heart eyes throwing fireballs at Jeno when he gave you his food, man was saying ‘don’t touch my girl’.” You shrug, trying to shake off the sickly sweet feeling you have in your stomach. As much as you’d want Haechan to reciprocate your feelings, you don’t ever see it happening.

©️ liliansun., 2022

#haechan oneshot #haechan fanfic #nct haechan #nct donghyuck #nct dream au #nct 127 haechan #donghyuck oneshot #donghyuck fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fanfiction #donghyuck au #haechan au #best friends to lovers #childhood friends to lovers #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #haechan angst #haechan fluff #lee donghyuk x reader #donghyuck angst #donghyuck fluff #©️ liliansun

[noonaishere]

noonaishere Masterlist!

So now that I have more than one fic on this blog, I suppose I have to make a master-masterlist, for all the masterlists I have now. For all these masterful lists.

Here are the fics:

Work of Art [Jeong Jaehyun]

By: noonaishere (main blog: symphonyofmars)

Fic type: social media au / traditional

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem!reader

Genre: slow burn, friends to lovers, college au (replacement for Dear.M? I don’t know about you but I’m still salty it was cancelled)

Warnings: allusions to emotional and financial abuse, backhanded compliments, negging, sexual assault, drinking, suicide mention

Status: completed!

SYNOPSIS:

Y/n is an art student who - through much hard work and many scholarships - has gotten accepted to the Neo Cultural Technological Institute, a foremost University in Seoul, Korea. There, she makes friends, keeps up with project deadlines, and meets one Jeong Jaehyun. She knows she’s there to work but… the dimpled dancer just might sway her heart.

[WORK OF ART MASTERLIST]

Online/Offline [Choi San]

By: noonaishere (main blog: symphonyofmars)

Fic type: social media au / traditional

Pairing: San x fem!reader

Genre: cafe setting, streamer, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, male lead secrets

Warnings: stalking, verbal abuse, online harassment, attempted kidnapping, “honey trap”

Status: Currently updating

Updates: Mondays and Tuesdays at 12pm EST

Synchronously posted with Music of the Heart

SYNOPSIS:

Y/n has been a faceless streamer since she was 17 or 18 and - even though she’s friends with an idol from a popular group - no one knows who she is. Things start to go wrong when someone posts a picture in front of her old job and she makes the move from her hometown to Seoul. What will happen when she makes a whole bunch of new friends at the nearby cafe?

Also, how does y/n’s existence connect to t/n, someone she’s never met?

[ONLINE/OFFLINE MASTERLIST]

Music of the Heart [Jeong Yunho]

By: noonaishere (main blog: symphonyofmars)

Fic type: social media au / traditional

Pairing: Yunho x fem!reader

Genre: music industry setting, musician/producer, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, running from the past

Warnings: overbearing parents, verbal abuse, sexual harassment, drinking, suicide mention

Status: Currently updating

Updates: Thursdays and Fridays at 12pm EST

Synchronously posted with Online/Offline

SYNOPSIS:

T/n has always loved music, though her experience of it wasn’t always the greatest. Forced by her parents to learn the violin - almost purely to climb the socio-economic ladder - she’s since forged her own path. She auditions at Wonderland Entertainment and becomes one of their studio musicians, but how will she deal with seeing her ex-best friend who also happens to be contracted under the company?

Also, how does t/n’s existence connect to y/n, someone she’s never met?

[MUSIC OF THE HEART MASTERLIST]

All my fics are filled with fandom in-jokes and if-you-know-you-know’s, so I hope you have fun finding all of them 😁

(also, if the tag list doesn’t work for you or something, just let me know)

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct 127 #nct smau #college au #San #Choi San #cafe au #streamer au #fake dating #ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ/ᴏғғʟɪɴᴇ #Yunho #Jeong Yunho #enemies to lovers #childhood friends to lovers #music industry au #ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ #Ateez #Ateez smau #reader fic #kpop fic

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED NCT FICS OF NOVEMBER 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my nct recs of november! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Makeup, Make Out || @polarisjisung💕✅

↳ somewhere between testing eyeshadow palettes and mascara wands, renjun tests the prospect of loving you (i love me some soft renjun. soft renjun is prob in my top 5 fics to read about in nct. like how can you not enjoy reading soft renjun fics?????)

Ready For Love || @jnnul💕✅💯💯💯

↳ a boy who has never taken a relationship seriously. a girl who is seriously over relationships. when they end up finding each other, will they let their ideas of what a relationship should be like ruin their relationship before it even starts? (the concept of one person believing in one thing and the other person believing in another but they come to one accord to overcome the obstacle is amazing. literally as op has said in their warnings "match made in heaven", they truly are and i love that.)

Misses Suh? || @nctsplug02🔞💕✅💯

↳ (there was not exact summary, but if you remember the jeongs fics from this author then i present you the suhs. stop i freaking love these fics from them. i hope theres going to be more suhs.)

Silent Treatment || @polarisjisung💕💔✅

↳ your boyfriend broke some guy's nose for you, but what he doesn't realise is he also broke his promise to you (how does one give jeno the silent treatment???? easy, pretend to be oc cause thats what i did. LOL LIKE HOW CAN YOU GIVE THIS MAN THE SILENT TREATMENT. mans gonna be looking at you with them eyes and you are just gonna fold. gosh hes adorable and sht)

Trauma || @peanutpinet💕💔✅💯

↳ Being the son of the famous Nam Goongmin came with a heavy price to pay for Jaemin. Though Taeyong managed to get Jaemin out of his father’s mafia business and helped him to heal, there was still some trauma that Jaemin had yet to face. Until he came across a girl that he would soon learn that he can’t always run from his problems (the fact that the story lowkey connects with the other fics that they have is a gold mine. my ass is out here re-reading everything from the beginning aka the first one all the way to this one while i wait for the next one.)

Enough For You || @midmourn💔✅💯

↳ you wanted to be enough for mark, but no matter what you did, you weren't. (brb let me just sit in the corner real quick. stop, i need more angst nct fics to satisfy my angst side. like you can just feel the hurt that the oc is feeling, cause i know for a fact everyone has been through this once in their life time.)

I'm A Mouse, Duh! || @springseasonie🔞✅

↳ Nomin in police costumes and Y/N in a "mouse" costume (it's literally just lingerie). Will they fuck? Keep reading to find out! (1. i love the mean girls reference. that movie is a classic. 2. another roommate threesome, i may have a problem. BUT THATS FINE. this fic was hella good.)

I Wanna Make You Scream || @nctsplug02🔞✅💯💯💯

↳ (johnny in a scream mask?????????? sir???????? HELLOOOOOOOOO????? like god this fic is, oh child.)

Rent Is Due! || @starillusion13🔞✅💯

↳ (theres no summary, but do you know what else is due??? my insanity after reading this fic. like god dam. had to take a moment to breathe after finishing the fic.)

Strawberry Cough || @hazyhae🔞💕✅

↳ when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that, and maybe even more. (the fact that jaemin automatically has a stock of the strawberry flavor for the oc is cute as sht. mans literally fell in love at first sight.)

The Day That I Met You I Started Dreaming || @nctstar💕✅💯

↳ You watched in satisfaction as the imprint of your lips stained a faded red colour, two semi-circles adorned by fine lines. The smell of strawberry wafted gently, so subtle you could have missed it. Yet, his voice rang in your ears. “You taste so sweet, baby. You always do.” (stop, i think this was one of the "long" jungwoo fics that i have read so far. i should start reading more jungwoo fics ngl. i honestly like how the story went. like it was at a good pace. not too rushed and not too slow, at the perfect pace. )

They're Roommate || @luvyeni🔞✅

↳ maybe those “jokes” your roommates play on you aren’t actually jokes (nomin threesome??? let me at it. lord have fcking mercy on me)

Young God || @jaeminvore🔞💕✅💯💯

↳ in which you were essentially scammed into cohabiting with a ridiculously clingy demon that lives off of sex. It could be worse. At least he staved off from sucking your soul out in exchange of you sucking something else—among other things (demon hyuck is a menace but hes a cute menace you know. hes gonna be like your bffl demon. i honestly fully enjoyed this one so much, like you dont understand. the mans a cute ass menace)

NCT 127 Texts || @phoxphenex💕✅💯

↳ Baby 127 Calling Dad on Tour (stop i cant wait for them to be parents. like these fans are gonna have to grow a pair of balls and suck it up that these mens are gonna be parents in the future. like can u imagine their kid just texting them. their kid will have them on their knees i swear.)

NCT Dream Texts || @jenosz💕✅💯

↳ Jeno boyfriend texts (the way that i fcking cackled at the first one. i cant, that was literal GOLD. ngl thats prob something i would say to my boo, if i had one LMAO)

NCT Dream Texts || @midmourn💕✅

↳ Your mom hasn't paid me this month (stop jisung would be the one to actually tell his mom. protect this lil sprout.)

8:57PM || @gyeomsweetgyeom💕✅

↳(faster/2 baddies era jaehyun has me on a fcking chokehold im not gonna lie.)

Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

#nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 smut #nct dream angst #nct strangers to lovers au #nct friends with benefits au #nct established relationship au #nct friends to lovers au #nct timestamps #nct texts au #nct mafia au #nct fic recs #nct recs

[jkprkerz]

hyperfixating on harry potter is so fun & comforting when you’re sad but you know what’s even more fun & comforting when you’re sad,, adding nct to the mix! nct hogwarts aus are currently my favorite thing!! im gonna be here for a while!

#need to go to hogwarts with nct #rivals to lovers with mark #best friends with fellow ravenclaw renjun #no evil wizards just vibes #nct hogwarts au #nct #when in doubt nct!!

[rairecs]

title: part of something ours author: ohsun rating: explicit wordcount: 52111 pairing: lee donghyuck (haechan)/mark lee summary: 

While Donghyuck was trying to sort out college applications, Mark was signing a record deal, and when Donghyuck dropped out after three months of feeling dead inside, Mark was busying recording June Bug’s debut album –– at least, that’s what Donghyuck likes to think.

Fact is, Donghyuck doesn’t know. He didn’t stay in touch with Mark, for more reasons than just practical –– so he doesn’t know what happened to Mark, how he got where he is today. Most importantly, Donghyuck doesn’t know who Mark is now, and maybe that consoles his fear a little. 

It doesn’t matter if Mark doesn’t recognise him, because Donghyuck is not sure he will recognise Mark.

link

#markhyuck #nct fic #nct fic rec #haechan #mark lee #au: modern setting #au: rock band #childhood friends #friends to strangers to lovers #hurt/comfort #misunderstanding #miscommunication #some pining #angst with a happy ending #i really liked this #author: ohsun #wc: 50000

[kaesficrecarchive]

[mark x donghyuck]

you and i, seriously by madlife (1/1 | 17,548 | T)

Donghyuck faced Mark, only to find him staring at him. Out of panic, and being the cool guy that he was of course, Donghyuck winked. And then he spun around and went to the classroom, yelling, “What’s taking you guys so fucking long!”

(Mark is graduating, Donghyuck needs to confess and he has never procrastinated this BAD before.)

(author)

#markhyuck fic #markhyuck #mark x donghyuck #mark x haechan #nct 127 #nct dream #one shot #t: high school au #t: friends to lovers #t: mutual pining #wc: 10k-25k #c: kpop #rpf

[phoxphenex]

Heyy can you do friends to lovers with Jungwoo and him being jealous? sorry if it’s a bit too much, love ur works btw!!!!

friends to lovers jungwoo

#scenarios #nct social media au #nct #nct 127 #nct texts #nct jungwoo #jungwoo #kim jungwoo #jungwoo texts #jungwoo fluff #best friends to lovers #best friend jungwoo