[2:28 Pm]

[2:28 pm]

“did someone say something to you?”

jisung was fuming. he knew you like you were the back of his hand—seeing you at the level upset as you were only infuriated him even more.

“no, no. i’ll be fine, ‘sung.” you try your best to smile at him even through the tears blurring your vision.

your boyfriend sighs, tugging you towards him as a soft sob escapes your lips.

“shh. i’m here, baby. cry it all out.”

𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐬 / 剪刀石头布

xiaojun, hendery, yangyang x fem!reader

the most dignified way to settle something is via rock, paper, scissors. even if it's for someone's hand in marriage

1.9k words, historical-ish au but w/ modern language, low-key crack (but tbh these three r crackheads af)

a/n: lmao this was actually really fun to write ngl 🥴

There were a handful of things that society deemed inappropriate for young men to do in public. One of them, god forbid, was fighting for a lady's hand in a barbaric, violent manner outside of a duel. A duel of what, one might ask? Well, a duel of wits was fully acceptable. A duel of… whatever this was? Perhaps not. 

"Okay—" Liu Yangyang gestured for his two friends to come closer as he rolled up the sleeves of his navy blue suit jacket, gold cufflinks discarded. "—We go on shoot."

The other two participating parties were that of Xiao Dejun and Wong Hendery, both of whom seemed just as solemn as the youngest of their trio in what they were about to do. All around them, the debutante ball buzzed with chatter and gossip about all of the young women who had just entered into society. One of whom was you, the young lady rumored to have a pirate father, an affinity for opera, and who apparently "got her hands dirty" by spending time with the servants of your estate. 

For Yangyang, he had heard "pirate father"; Xiaojun heard "opera enthusiast"; and Hendery latched onto the fact that you were an excellent cook. The fact that you were more beautiful than any of the fake dolls in this room made you ten times more irresistible in their eyes. You were just barely clinging onto the legitimacy of your Duchess title, but neither of the young lords cared—they just wanted you. But now, they had to duke it out between the three of them to figure out which of them would get the first shot at your hand. 

The three of them primed their fists in the center of their little cult triangle. 

They chanted, "Rock, paper, scissors—shoot!"

Low curses filled the air around them as they all held out flattened palms for paper. 

They tried again, reciting the same chant, then threw out their weapons: a rock from Hendery, paper from Yangyang, and scissors from Xiaojun. Another round of swears and groans. 

People around them either pretended to not hear, or sent their backs visible expressions of disdain and displeasure. It was not proper for young men such as them to be swearing so often. And in front of ladies, no less. The audacity!

In the third round, when they threw out their hands, Hendery released a sound of guttural pain as his pair of scissors was defeated by Xiaojun and Yangyang's combined rocks. The latter winners then faced each other, eyes narrowed in challenge. 

"I want a redo," Hendery grumbled as he refereed the match. 

"Sucks to suck," Yangyang quipped before going into the next round. He was soon met by Hendery's howls of delight and his own utter, complete disappointment. "Now that's just fucked."

A scandalized scoff from a nearby woman went ignored. 

The three men stared at Xiaojun's winning hand: paper against rock. Smug and victorious, Xiaojun thanked his two juniors for being so easy to win against before disappearing into the crowd to have his go at wooing you. First impressions were everything, after all. 

"Deserved, methinks," Hendery said in a faux ponderous expression with his thumb and forefinger rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

Yangyang deadpanned at him. "Oh, shut up. We can't just let him get her! Do you wanna be married to some woman you've never met from some country you've never heard of?"

Hendery snatched a flute of champagne from a passing tray. "We didn't know Yn until tonight."

"And?"

"Oh my god. You know what? Nevermind."

Yangyang pursed his lips as he watched Xiaojun waltz up to you, a charming smile on his face as he bowed in greeting. A glorious 90 degrees. None of them would bow 90 degrees even for the Queen of England. In kind, you curtsied low enough that your knees must have touched the floor under that glorious mass of satin, gossamer, and petticoat. Yangyang wanted you to curtsey for him while looking at him like that. 

God, this was unfair. Rock, paper, scissors was the wrong strategy. He had to do something else… 

"What if—wait. Where'd he go?" Yangyang whipped his head around, searching the crowd for where Hendery had suddenly disappeared off to. He had been by Yangyang's side and then suddenly—poof! Gone, as if—oh no, he didn't!

From across the room, Yangyang watched with mouth agape in pure betrayal as Hendery stole the spotlight from Xiaojun and swept you into a conversation that had you lighting up the room with your laugh and smile. Xiaojun seemed to feel the same way as Yangyang as he stood there silently, awkwardly watching the conversation happen right before his eyes. 

The way you giggled behind your lace-covered hand, how you blushed so delicately under the harsh lighting.

Yangyang fumed. First, he lost a child's game. Second, his best friend slid into your sights while slipping out of his. Third… well third… 

The thought lit up his mind as it lit up his face. He scurried over to the orchestra, requesting a specific waltz, the very one he had ingrained in his mind from the torturous ballroom dancing lessons his parents forced him to take. This specific dance would require the changing of partners—twice, to be exact. You would end up dancing with three partners. He just needed to ensure that he got you last, which was the longest segment of the song. He also prayed to god that you weren't yet head over heels for one of his friends. That would screw with his plan quite terribly. 

And so, when the orchestra started up, just as expected, Xiaojun found a way to sweep you onto the dance floor. Yangyang picked a random girl, flashed a pretty smile, and got her to be partners with him. All the while, he kept his eyes on you and his friend, making sure that he was dancing, but still within reach. 

The first switch went just as planned. Hendery had taken the bait, already taking you out of Xiaojun's hold to dance with for the second segment. Xiaojun had to hold in his indignation since he was now commandeering another partnership. Yangyang suppressed his laugh and played it off as a smile toward his new partner. If he had yet to meet you, he would probably be willing to court her. For a night. 

Yangyang felt the sound of the final switch right down to his bones. The telltale trills of the violins had the hair on the nape of his neck stand in anticipation, and he swirled his partner closer to where you and Hendery were.

It was quite simple, really. 

One moment, you were dancing with the young lord Wong Hendery; the next, you were in the arms of his best friend, another young lord, Liu Yangyang. The young lord smiled in greeting, the type of beam that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Hello," you greeted cordially. 

"Good evening," he said back, leading you through the rest of the dance expertly. You bet he could do this with his eyes closed. "Lady Yn, I presume?"

You chuckled. "I'd hope so. My name was announced at the beginning."

To his credit, he wasn't flustered or disheartened by your statement. It only seemed to make him grin wider. "Ah, but they did not announce mine. Would you take a gamble, my lady?"

"Proper ladies do not gamble, sir." You didn't imagine the flash of disappointment in his eyes, and you were swift to add, "Good thing I'm not a proper lady, right?"

Mild appreciation. "So what'll it be? A kiss for every wrong—or right—answer?"

"I do believe that you should take me out to dinner first, my lord."

He pretended to think. "Or perhaps… you'd agree to being courted?"

"Courted," you hummed in amusement. "And who might you be referring to? You?"

"I don't see why not." He puffed out his chest, twirling you around delicately. Your periwinkle blue skirts fanned out around you like a blossoming flower, and you couldn't help the grin that overtook your face. 

"You're quite good at this," you said when you were face to face again. 

The lord smirked. "I know."

"Arrogant much?"

"I give confidence where confidence is due," he replied with his chin held high. In any other man, perhaps this amount of cockiness would have been a massive turn off, but for some reason, it had manifested nicely in Yangyang. 

The waltz came to an end all too soon, and you found yourself curtseying before a bowing Yangyang. He seemed just as disappointed that the song was over, but before he could invite you to a scandalous second dance, two familiar presences filled the gaps beside you on the edge of the dance floor. Xiaojun stood beside Yangyang, and Hendery took up Yangyang's other side with a cupcake in his gloved hand. You recalled him eyeing the cupcakes earlier when he had first introduced himself. 

"Lady Yn! I see you've met my friends," Yangyang said, gesturing to the two men flanking him. "Xiaojun and Hendery. They're my very close brothers in arms. I believe you danced with them as well."

"It was my pleasure," you chirped with a shallow nod and curtsy. 

"The pleasure was truly all ours," Xiaojun said, hand pressed to his chest. The grey suit he wore fit him nicely. "You're a wonderful dancer."

"Why thank you! You're all light on your feet yourselves."

"Dance lessons," Hendery offered between bites of cake. 

Yangyang added with a cough, "Ballroom dance lessons."

"Tap," Hendery said offhandedly, and you let a small huff of a laugh escape your mouth. Imagining Hendery tap dancing? That was a sight. "You doubt me?" He gasped with feigned offense. 

You shook your head. "No, no. But I would like to see you prove it. Show me you've retained something from your lessons."

"I can tango," Xiaojun piped in. 

"Ballroom dance is much more dignified," Yangyang countered. 

Hendery hummed loudly, raising his pointer finger in opposition. "No, tap is clearly the most refined dance form. No one cares about the rest."

Xiaojun sighed, pinching the space between his eyes. "Why do I even try?"

"Dance in general is impressive," you told them, recalling how difficult it had been for your mother to get your two left feet to finally find a beat. 

You were suddenly hyper aware of the stares directed your way, the whispers. Your unconventional upbringing had always been a problem for the high society your mother came from, and the life you were to inherit. When you had been on the dance floor, you had allowed yourself to forget about all of the other people while you danced with three lovely men. Now, reality had crashed back in.

The three men noticed your discomfort, immediately shifting subtly to block you from everyone else's views. Your own wall of protection; you felt gratitude fill your chest. 

Xiaojun frowned slightly. "It's getting a bit stuffy in here, don't you think, Yn?"

You nodded, agreeing. "I hear the promenade is beautiful at night."

"And I hear they serve hot cocoa, too," Hendery added. It was decided then; they would escape the confines of the ballroom to the refreshing world outside. 

As the three of them followed you out, they sent glances to one another. Eyes narrowed in friendly (maybe) competition, it was a silent agreement. 

May the best man win.

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𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗰𝘆!

nonidol!yangyang x reader

1k words, absolute crack, some fluff/angst if u squint

a/n: yangyang wrecker era 😃 was waiting in my airport terminal when i wrote this lmao / MANIFESTING THE REAWAKENING OF WAYV TUMBLR 🙏🏼 wayzennies COME BACK ITS SO DRY

Your gaze turned to the massive floor to ceiling window beside you where airplanes were landing and taking off in the distance. Soon enough—in about two minutes—your class would be called to board the plane, and it would be you in the great blue sky, heading toward a new future. Was it a future you really wanted? In a way, yes, but it also meant leaving everything and everyone you knew behind. 

Including the man you grew to—

"YN! WAIT YN!" People were leaping out of the way, parting like the Red Sea, as a man thundered through the crowd.

You froze in your spot, hand gripping the handle of your suitcase and legs having just straightened to stand and prepare to board. Widened eyes landed on Liu Yangyang as he scanned the waiting area wildly, before he found you. 

"Oh my god, Yn! Thank god—" he wheezed, coming to a stop in front of you. He braced his hands on his knees as he huffed for air, then raised a finger to silence your opened mouth. "Jesus Christ, why is your boarding gate so far from the entrance?"

All of the fairytale-ness drained away. This was still Yangyang, you reminded yourself, not some romcom Prince Charming. Then, realization hit you like a bus. "Oh my god, did you run here? Yangyang, you know there's a shuttle, right?"

"Well, now I know!" He screeched in utter agony. He swiped a bead of sweat from the side of his head as he straightened. "Now you really have to listen to me, or else all of that running would be for nothing. All of my efforts—for nothing!"

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. "I need to get on that plane—"

"No!" He cut you off, eyes wild and wide in desperation. "No, you don't!" 

Yangyang stepped toward you and grabbed your hands in his. He looked straight into your eyes as earnestly as he could muster. "Yn, you don't have to get on that plane. I know I'm being selfish, but I can't—"

"Class C as in Charlie, you may now begin lining up to board."

Your eyes whipped over to the front desk where the announcement had come from and where the next class—your class—was beginning to line up and board. 

"Hey, eyes on me." Yangyang cupped your face in his hands. "I can't… I can't let you go, Yn. I know that we kind of hated each other at the beginning of this year and I thought you were a real pain in the—"

"Yangyang," you cut in, actually rolling your eyes. Did he think this was a joke? You grabbed your suitcase and tried to step around him. "I really have to go."

"All other guests for our flight to Geneva, please make your way to the gate for last call."

"Wait, Yn!" Panic rose in Yangyang's chest as he watched you make your way over to the doors. In a moment of pure impulse, he launched himself at the emergency exit and pushed the door open, then slammed it closed. 

The entire boarding gate erupted in ear-piercing sirens. 

You whirled back at him, a look of fear and surprise in your eyes. Good. He had your attention. 

Yangyang raced over to you again, the words he really wanted to say sitting on his tongue. "Yn, I love you."

That got your attention. Probably more than the sirens whirring in the airport and all of the eyes pinned to him for activating it. Someone over the intercom had announced a pause of all flights until security confirmed it was a false alarm. 

He continued. "I know what you're gonna say, but it's not too early to say that. Not when you make me so fucking happy that I don't know what to even do with my life without you. You're my driving force, the one who got me off my ass to actually do something with my life. I can't lose you."

Your heart thundered in your chest, louder than the chaos surrounding you. There was so much going on in his expression that you couldn't doubt his sincerity. It was probably the most heartfelt you had ever seen him. 

But… you gulped. "I'm sorry, Yangyang," you murmured, already hating the way his heart broke in his eyes, "but I have to chase this. I love y—"

"What's the emergency? Who pushed the door?"

Yangyang whipped his head toward the airport security making their way over to them. He practically growled, "Shhh! She was just about to confess her mutual love for me!" He returned his attention to you, expression hopeful, "Continue."

You couldn't help but smile, laughing under your breath. "I love you, too, Yangyang—"

Security approached. "This isn't an emergency."

"What are you talking about? This is an emergency! I'm trying to stop the love of my life from flying to Switzerland without me!" 

You squeezed his hands, drawing his attention back. You licked your lips. "I have to go."

That crack in his mask was almost enough to stop you from walking past him. Almost. Yangyang scrambled for an excuse, some way to get you to stay, as you slipped from his fingers right before his eyes. 

"Marry me!"

You froze mid-step. 

Yangyang felt his resolve steel over. He huffed, "Yeah, marry me then."

You turned around, slowly, not certain your ears were hearing things correctly. "Yangyang…"

He stepped over to you again, coming before you on one knee, your hands in his. His eyes shimmered with silver. "Yn Ln, marry me. Stay here with me—please. I don't have a ring, but I can get one on the way home."

The emergency alarm turned off suddenly, and the entire gate was descended into a thick silence. Everyone in the neighboring boarding gates, the security, and the desk workers all watched and waited for your response with bated breath. 

You wiped a tear sneaking out from the corner of your eye. "I hate you," you laughed. 

He grinned. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes, dumbass," you nodded. "Yes, I'll marry you."

The terminal erupted in applause and cheers as you said this. Butterflies flew in your stomach from the sheer amount of love you had for this man, no matter how stupid this whole situation turned out to be. 

Yangyang stood up, pressing a kiss to your lips and linking your fingers together. No one could will the massive, ear-to-ear gummy grin on his face. He could walk on air, water, sunshine! "Ready to go home?"

You pursed your lips. "About that… I'm still getting on that plane."

The pure look of betrayal on his face—"WHAT!?"

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NIKI !!! top 5 fave fics of urs : GO !! ;D

OMGOMG i just saw this now duckie </3 but thank u for the ask !! my faves so far are:

— rose and thorns by @minniepetals ; definitely an all time fave of mine :( minnie’s writings are just so ethereal i can never get enough !!

— orange tulips by @kainks ; i remember reading this when i first had tumblr (way back on my old account) and i fell in LOOOVE this is quite literally my comfort fic </3

— the color blue by @jeonginks ; another long lasting fave of mine!! a friend recommended it to me and ever since it’s been an iconic fic to me :_)

— the habits of a broken heart by @softykooky ; AAAAHKJFKWBDMWBFKNEKDNAKDNWKDNWKDNKWBFMDNRKRNFN.

— nevermind, let’s break up by @ppangjae ; i’m still waiting on part two 🥲 i remember telling all my friends ab this fic PLSJAKDMA

hehehe i loved looking back at all these legendary fics!! tqsm duckie :]

Please write 6, 15 and 22 prompts with Doyoung 😭

[𝟏𝟐:𝟎𝟑𝐀𝐌] — bad boy!doyoung x reader

1.3k words, meet cute jail cell edition lmao, cursing, unrealistic situation (cries)

a/n: tbh i was so stumped by this prompt, but i'm actually kinda pleased w how it turned out :D

You never thought you would ever finally meet your school's ice prince Kim Doyoung while in a jail cell. It was cold, really, and when you had been taken into custody, you hadn't gotten the chance to grab the jacket from your car. Then again, you had little chance to do anything when they had up and cuffed you as if you being there at the wrong place and the wrong time was the evidence that you were the one who set fire to the front office building. 

No, you had an idea of who it had been. And he had just been shoved into your cell with you. (It was a small town with a small station. You were just realizing how small it was.)

"Don't go conspiring, you two," mocked the officer, before walking away, ring of keys spinning around his index finger. 

Doyoung had a jacket. 

It was that cursed black bomber jacket that half the girls in your class always dreamed about wearing around their shoulders. They always fantasized about him claiming them with that jacket. You always scoffed at the idea. They all had the money to buy the same exact jacket, but always lacked the brains to think about buying it. 

Doyoung let out a brusque sigh, raking a hand through his dark hair. He leaned against the front wall of the cell and now faced you, who sat on the edge of one of the two cots. "Hey."

You didn't say anything. You were here because of him, after all. 

He must have read your mind or something, because he said, "I know what you're thinking—"

"Oh, do you now?"

The man rolled his eyes, hard. You hoped it made his head hurt. "Mature, Yn. Very mature."

You almost started. How did he know your name?

"Yes, Yn. I know your name."

Was he reading your mind?!

"No, your face is just very readable." He sent you a thin smile. "I am fully convinced you never graduated Kindergarten now. Are you always like this to people you just meet?"

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Fuck off. I have every right since I'm in this damn place because of you." You didn't even have an alibi to get yourself out, or bail money. You were literally stuck here. Your idiotic older sister wouldn't even care you were in here either. Full on screwed, was what you were. 

Doyoung held out his hands as if placating a wild animal. "Yn, I swear to god I didn't set the office on fire. For once, I'm not the bad guy here." 

The two of you held and maintained a tense eye contact from across the cell from one another. Doyoung was always causing some sort of trouble with his friends. He wasn't labeled as a bad boy, per se. Rather, people dubbed him an ice prince for lacking empathy or compassion for anyone or anything outside his inner circle. You'd seen the wreckage he had made of the chem lab or the mess this freshman's bike became after Doyoung had raged through the bike racks after school. You despised him for being so—cruel. 

You had your fair share of trouble, but you liked to think it was because you were misunderstood. Yes, spray painting your art onto alley walls was a misunderstanding, clearly. But you would never go as far as arson. Fire was cool, but not that cool. (No pun intended.)

He breathed out again. "Someone's trying to frame us." He paused, reconsidering, "Well, someone's trying to frame me. You're just the poor sap who got sucked into this."

You deadpanned. Did you have to share a cell with this idiot? "Thanks. That makes me feel so much better."

"I didn't mean it like that," he stammered. "Yn, I'm just trying to put it how it is." Doyoung pushed off the cell wall and began walking across the cell toward you, and there was a sudden and very real spike of anxiety in your chest. 

"Don't come near me."

At your words, Doyoung immediately stopped.

You cleared your throat, adding, "Take another step, and I can't be held responsible for my next actions."

Instead of backing up as you intended for him to react, he instead cocked his head at you. A sly sort of smile slipped onto his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. "And what might that action be, love?"

It suddenly occurred to you that the idiot was you at this moment. Your heart rate leapt. "No—no, that is not what I meant! I meant that I'd kick you in the balls or something if you came any closer!" You tried amending your words, but the damage had been done and your face was as hot as the flames that had devoured the office building. 

Doyoung grinned, and you had the sudden thought that it looked like a bunny. He chuckled. "Sure. Okay, I believe you."

"It's true!" You stammered. 

"Mhm," he hummed, sitting down on the edge of the other cot. "I said I believed you, didn't I?"

You scowled, and in a desperate attempt to save your dignity, you said, "Look, I'm this close to actually giving you a shiner, dude. I can't even go home because of you, and now this is on my record, and—"

Doyoung's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, wait. Why can't you go home? You did call someone to bail you out, right?"

You scoffed. "Yes, because my older sister cares so much about me that she would interrupt her beauty sleep at midnight to come bail me out for alleged arson." You shook your head, bitterness rising in your chest. "I don't have the luxury."

Another tense silence fell over your shared cell as Doyoung considered you. You couldn't meet his gaze; you hated the pity in his eyes that was so uncharacteristic of him, but somehow fit his pretty, dark eyes so well. His face was built to express, but something prevented him from being emotional all the time. 

It was maybe a couple moments later that Doyoung broke the silence. He scratched the back of his neck. "For what it's worth," he murmured softly, "I'm sorry you got roped into this, Yn."

You swallowed. "It's okay."

He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but the officer from before was coming back with the ring of keys jingling from his fingers. "Looks like you're going home, Kim." He yanked the cell door open, and Doyoung stood up to exit. 

You tried not to be bitter. Or to feel sad about the prospect of being abandoned again. 

Doyoung glanced back over his shoulder at you. "Hang in there, Yn." He followed the officer back down the hallway, away from you and your sight. 

So… you were alone now, huh?

With a sigh, you settled onto the cot and curled in on yourself in an attempt to get comfortable and to stay warm. No jacket, no company, no sympathy. At least you wouldn't have to go to school tomorrow—

"Aw, love, you look so cute like that." The cell door was yanked open and you shot upward. Doyoung grinned at you from beside the officer. He beckoned you out with a wide grin. "Come on; let's get you out of there."

You blinked. Were you still asleep?

"No, you're not still asleep."

You glared, standing up and walking toward him. "What the hell are you doing back here?"

Doyoung ruffled your hair with his hand and you whacked it away with what you thought was a frown, but looked more like a pout. Man, did you always look this adorable? He couldn't understand why he was seeing you differently. Maybe there was something wrong with that jail cell. "I got my friend to bail you out, too. We'll give you a ride home."

When you balked a little, Doyoung examined your face, and suddenly understood. "Or you can crash at my place. You can be cute and curl up with me." He wagged his eyebrows at you, and you couldn't help but think how this was probably the most emotion anyone outside his inner circle had ever seen from him. 

You rolled your eyes, punching him in the bicep. (Shit, he had buff arms—) "Fuck off, Doyoung."

He grinned, though its edges were softer. "You first."

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[1:09 am]

“are you sure you’re not cold?”

renjun’s concerned voice cuts through the silence of the night—a small cloud bursting past his lips.

your smile seems to calm his nerves, the tight squeeze you give his hand eases the wrinkle between his brows, “i’m fine, ren.”

he nods, pulling your hand into his jacket pocket nonetheless. you had refused his jacket knowing how sensitive your boyfriend was, but that only worried him a little more.

“the moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” his whisper brushes against your ear—it was almost inaudible, but you heard him.

“babe… that’s a street lamp.”