Chenle X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

〄 〯 PAIRING. Ex-boyfriend! NonIdol!chenle × fem!reader (ft. Chenle's new girlfriend...) GENRE. Sligh angst REQUEST. No WARNINGS. Mention of food, sadness and slightly angst, I guess...

೫ [16:38 p.m]

Seeing him so far and so close at the same time was painful. It wasn't a planned date (actually it wasn't even a real date), it was like a sweet surprise, like those several he made during your relationship… a cute note left in the fridge, your favorite candy left for you, a voice message wishing good morning when both of you couldn't be together… There he was, Zhong Chenle was standing in a supermarket aisle analyzing some product you couldn't quite see which one. All he could see was his profile, but that sight alone was enough to know he was even more handsome, and that domestic sight made your heart pound.

Chenle's beauty was always obvious. Many of your friends used to compare him to Leonardo DiCaprio — not that he knows — but as the days went by, he seemed to become even more handsome, and even all that time away from him, you couldn't stop wondering if the beauty of Zhong continued to expand… and the answer is a big yes.

And there you were, watching him from afar, completely forgetting that you were in a public place and that you could be mistaken for a crazy stalker behind the cute guy, but you couldn't stop looking at him. Holding what you wanted to take, you considered going to talk to him, maybe he would be happy to see you too, maybe you could talk, maybe... And then in the blink of an eye, the sweet surprise turned to a bitter surprise, and your heart skipped a beat, in a different feeling.

While you pathetically admired Chenle from afar, a girl approached the boy and hugged his back. All you can do is stand still in your place, while a beautiful girl takes your favorite place in the world, and hugs him warmly in public, smiling, visibly happy, and in love.

Your memory traveled directly to the many times it was you in the brunette's shoes. There were countless times they had meetings in the market, especially when you had the crazy idea of ​​cooking together, even knowing from previous experiences that it would go terribly wrong. Someone finds something related to an inside joke and then laughing together, you unconsciously gravitate towards each other (a fact observed and commented on several times by your friends), and then Chenle draped his arms over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, and hugged you. That was the way he used to say “I love you” to you, and you responded by squeezing him closer to you too.

But that's not you. It was, but not anymore. That's another pretty girl who hit the jackpot while you stood there watching them in their pathetic little world. That's when reality finally hits you, and the air goes out of your lungs, and you barely feel the can you were holding drop to the ground, making a huge bang. Wanting to hide more than anything, you reach down to pick up the same, and turn around completely ignoring the stares, and ignoring him on top of that. You don't know, but you expect your performance to be excellent when you get up “reading” the package label and going into the hallway but leaving it there, trying to get out without taking anything.

But with your desperation, and with only one goal in mind: to let him see her teary eyes and her regret at having let him go, she didn't see that the loud noise caught Chenle's attention, and once he recognized you, he couldn't control the euphoria that took over. What you also didn't know, is that even being with someone who cares for him and loves him, he can't respond in the same way, let alone in the same intensity. He knew that even trying to love her, the feeling would never be the same close to what he felt for you. And that's why even though you walk out of the market with nothing but aching memories, you don't see chenle running and screaming your name.

But he believes it's a sign. After all, he never forgot you, and the fact that what he was holding led him to memories (similar to the ones he had) of the two of you together and not five seconds later you show up, it couldn't be a coincidence, it couldn't be… it wasn't. And so, even though Kim Sunmi was calling him, even though he had to go home with her and not you today, he knew he couldn't let you go one more time. He wouldn't, and he won't, let you go one more time.

[Masterlist] • [NCT Dream Masterlist]

🍵🌿🖇..⃗. buy me a coffee?

The difference between Mark and Chenle 😂

hii can I request an Nct Dream text where you fall down the stairs and end up in the hospital and they don’t know, but when they find out they get super worried and start panicking

! dreamies find out your in the hospital after falling down the stairs !

thank you for requesting !! i hope u enjoy it😋

mark, renjun and jeno :

haechan and jaemin :

chenle and jisung :

nct dream as… / fanfiction aus 𓈒✳︎🏡

[take the quiz here to see which one you get!]

✰ MARK — childhood friends to lovers!au

ever since you've basically known your name, mark has been the boy next door. there was the cheeky, red letters of "lee" painted on the mailbox, the windows were adorned with the same coloured curtains, and the same doormat has been sitting in front of their door for ages. you have loved mark ever since you two have met. there wasn't a day where you wouldn't think of him, and there hasn't been a day when you haven't loved him. it was like a vicious circle which you couldn't get out of, because those stupid feelings would destroy the oh so precious friendship of yours, and you cannot let that happen, right? i mean, that's what you've thought for far too long, since this friendship meant more to you, than the fragile feeling of love - you didn't want it to get to the point where you would rather spit on each other, than talk it out. maybe that's why you pushed him away from yourself? maybe you just did that because you weren't too sure of your own peace of mind? no matter what, you knew the decision itself was wrong, only to realize it way too late. damaging the friendship and crying yourself to sleep was all your fault, after all, being way too proud and scared, stupid even; when you came back to the town where you two grew up, the least thing you wanted was to meet mark lee, mainly because you wouldn't have been able to look him in the eyes after all these happened. but you had to, so soon you even got a little surprised. it's been a while since the last time you have been home, your bedroom seemed way too unfamiliar at that point, just like the vhs tape placed directly in the middle of your bed. one which you haven't seen yet. it didn't have a title, the white label completely empty as you picked it up. you were a little bit cautious when placing it in the system, waiting for it to play whatever is on it, not having such large imagination to expect anything. it was a home video montage, full of videos of you and mark: playing together, getting ready for the first day of school, going to the movies, the way you two got engaged in middle school as a joke, and the omnious day of prom... you got teary eyed, with one thing on your mind - you have to go and save whatever's left now. maybe you're not too late.

✰ RENJUN — soulmate!au

life had been pretty much grey and dreary until you found The One. the other half everyone had been so obsessed to find. you were never big on all this stuff, because you were convinced you'd be able to live as a single half for you whole life, and don't need anyone else to feel complete. deep inside you knew that all of this is bullshit, truly, and all that was coming out of you was true bitterness and constantly ongoing unsuccessful confessions, making you believe in your delusions. with every passing second, you had to see people find their other half, while you were left to deal with the grey world you were left in, not as a choice but as fate instead. you felt like a loser, a big zero, who doesn't even deserve a soulmate. you thought you were destined to die alone, maybe compensate with something of brilliance: be a composer or a singer, write or paint something extraordinary, lord knows what, just something of importance! you were looking for yourself in every corner of the world, not for a lover or a fling, not for an other half, fully ignoring the law of attraction. it might have been some reverse psychological trick, effecting it all. and this may have been the reason behind why you had to leave that horribly boring theatre play, sneaking out and bumping into The One, who handed back your accidentally dropped bag, slowly looking into your eyes. he might have worked at the theater as he was wearing a name tag on his elegant shirt - huang renjun, it said. but it doesn't even matter, because his eyes were brown! brown! not grey, brown! everything cleared up. you did find the half - with brown eyes and a smile so bright.

✰ JENO — coffee shop!au

it was pretty much bittersweet to step foot in your favourite café: it was getting dark out there, and although the rain has stopped pouring, you got absolutley soaked to the core along the way there, rain replacing the tears on your face by then. your hair was sticking to your forehead uncomfortably, your body trembling without stopping, as you entered. the bell placed above the entrance was ringing lightly, gathering everyone's attention to you, although there wasn't too much people there except for the baristas, maybe two wandering souls, working on their laptops or reading in a cozy corner. well, maybe if it wasn't for getting dumped literal minutes ago, you wouldn't be here either, but it was still the most reasonable choice compared to going to a club or a ruin bar, gettig incredibly drunk, Plus! a good espresso might be able to clear the fog in your head, which you were in need of during this stupidly stressing period of life. you expected hyuck to greet you by the coffee machine, grinning ear to ear, as he always does when you visit between two lectures, but there was a completely new face behind the counter. it's been a long time since you've last seen a new employee here. his smile was sweet and rather warm, eyes conveying a sense of concern as you took one step closer, rubbing your eyes while getting your purse out of your pocket - you discreetly looked at his name tag, right on his black apron: lee jeno. whatta name... by then, you were way to hopeless to try and guess how the day would go, but life had to surprise you, fate deciding funnily against all odds: next to your cup of coffee, there was a napkin, hiding a telephone number on it, messily written down with a short message as well: "would you go out on a date with me, darling? :)"

✰ HAECHAN — rivals to lovers!au

lee donghyuck's name rushed through the hallways of your music academy just as quietly as a whisper, and you never knew why was it all like that ever since you've stepped foot into the school. you couldn't even hide the way too obvious rolls of your eyes every time you heard it. lee donghyuck was one of the biggest prodigies at the academy, no one could even be considered as a rival for him, this is mainly why he was such a big living legend amongst the students - you couldn't even hide how annoyed this made you, especially because he made sure you knew this ever since you two were little. music played a huge part in both of your lives, and somehow, you two always seemed to be at each other's throat, the first place at being the best always changing between the two of you. you could never get rid of each other either; your dad, always being so positive, once said, on your way to the academy sometime between sophomore and junior year, that the only reason behind this is that you two are equally good at what you're doing. you were pretty much skeptic for the longest of time, and felt as if you were destined to be the forever second next to him. you've had enough of always bumping into walls, since hyuck was the one who could stand at the first place ever so proudly. in kindergarten, in middle school, and even in high school, every. god damn. time. and that infuriating smile was plastered all upon his face even when you two were asked to not perform alone on the annual charity gala of your academy - you two had to perform something phenomenal, putting the childish jarring aside, growing out of the silly phase of hating each other, which was all made up by you, and you only, pushing the poor boy away from you. the boy who had always been so obsessed with you, utterly and completely. he won this time again, isn't it right?

✰ JAEMIN — photographer!au

when jaemin brought up the idea of making the last parts of his portfolio with you (which basically means about you), you were a little bit skeptic at first. you loved jaemin dearly, since he was a really understanding friend, but... you were simply terrified of cameras. you didn't really like the idea of being captured at all, you hated looking back at yourself on pictures taken of you, and you couldn't even think about how high quality his pictures would be with that hyper super machine, focused on all the little flawed details of your face that you absolutely despised. no, you couldn't even bear the idea of this whole project, and you stood by this decision of yours, jaemin waiting patiently the whole time, not pushing it too hard. since he wanted to work with you no matter what, giving up on his plan wouldn't be too typical of him - the fight didn't last long but it was pretty heated, him highlighting so many known things that needed to be said finally: it's childish how you reflect on yourself, and your delusions stop you from way too many things. the way he said straight into your face how beautiful he thinks you are, inside and outside, and that he wants the whole world to know how ethereal you are, made you tear up a little - especially when he said his heart breaks every time you speak so lowly of yourself. he truly thinks you're the modern manifestation of aphrodite, that you are his own venus, the muse of him, someone he can adore... that he's way too in love with you to let go of this, and-; the kiss you gave him was short, yet gave him exact answers. answers to hundreds and thousand of unsaid questions he kept hidden in himself for years and years on end.

✰ CHENLE — blind date!au

you clearly didn’t brace yourself for this whole fiasco proposed by donghyuck himself, foolishly believing his reasonings behind how perfect of a matchmaker he is. of course you knew that what he way saying was partly stupid, plus you were like a seventy percent sure he wasn't even sober when he set up a blind date during that omnious frat party he wasn't invited to. you didn't have to worry or anything, that's just how you were - overly anxious of such things, even if you weren't meeting a psychopath. you were only a bit vary of the awkwardness this whole new experience would bring, both of you rushing home way too soon from the date, trying to forget about it as soon as possible. these misconceptions about how the night would go stayed straight until you stopped in front of the restaurant to wait for your - then late already - date. you were a little nervous he stood you up, and you got yourself into the most beautiful piece of clothing from you wardrobe for nothing, but it was worth it, looking back at it, as zhong chenle arrived and you two simply just... clicked? automatically? not to mention you two decided to leave the place after the hors d'oeuvre, since you both found the place a little too fancy at that moment, going to a simple ice cream parlor instead, taking a walk in the park after, talking about anything and everything that came to mind: family, politics, movies and the most embarrassing memories from your childhood came up too, as you couldn't help but laugh at how chenle dropped his ice cream cone on the ground, while he simultaneously promised you that he wouldn't drop the cone on the next date - and you smiled, so happily.

✰ JISUNG — secret admirer!au

you were head over heels for jisung and his undying love for dancing. but, thinking a bit deeper about it, while writing that foolish, teenager like love letter for him, forced into the role of his secret admirer, there were much more of those things that made you feel head over heels for the boy: he showed you what persistence was, he spent the whole of his youth with you, and he wasn't afraid to spend the rest of his life with you, helping you out anytime you're in need of it, since he couldn't not do that as you "best friend". he couldn't be evil with you, he was never able to leave you and he couldn't even envision a future in which you weren't by his side. but the border he made up between the two of you, was never crossed - you two were friends, not more, not less. you were so torn deep inside, as you were helpless, being in the never ending limbo you would rather push forward, but he kept on tugging it backwards; the idea of writing letters was originally from your mother, who had enough of your obvious agony. she was positive you would write every feeling of yours out, making it easier as time goes by. their number kept growing, however, one letter becoming a dozen soon enough, maybe even more in the meantime, while not writing a name on any of them, referring to yourself only as a mere secret admirer. they suddenly disappeared from the bottom of your drawer one day, though, realizing way too late that the ringing phone in your pocket was in fact park jisung, the picture of him taking up the screen of your mobile - did he know?

————-> ☆Who Cares!? ☆<-————

Synopsis: y/n is friends with what is know as the golden squad. the golden squad beingJaemin (known for being the campus heart throb) Jeno (known for being the best athlete in the whole school) and Mark (known for literally knowing everyone at the school) What happens when y/n is forced to sit next to a boy she doesn’t know named Chenle.

pairing: Chenle x reader

genere: social media au, high school au, strangers to lovers, slight angst, fluff

warnings: Swearing, mention of bullying, mention of fighting, grammar issues

status: Finished

started: 1/31/23

ended: 4/3/23

schedule: posted every day other day

tag list: closed

———————————————————————————

[intro1]: Golden squad

[intro2]: Loser club

[part1]: First day

[part2]: @ynMelody

[part3]: Sunglasses

[part4]: don’t be suspicious

[part5]: Personal Tutor

[part6]: b-baller

[part7] he stubbed his toe

[part8] so no Minecraft?

[part9] is this about chenle?

[part10] oh my god you killed her

[part11] nice to look at

[part12] I never said that

[part13] I gottchu

[part14] take that winky face back right now

[part15] chenle don't listen to them

[part16] beer at haechan's place?

[part17] why is renjun in the bathtub

[part18] my bestie

[part19] you got me there

[part20] Jaemin's phone

[part21] okay so what's the plan

[part22] I think you broke her

[part23] superior squad

[part24] you dumb bitch

[part25]👀👀👀

[part26] step it up

[part27] shhh...

[part28] NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS A CHILL

[part29] hahaha oh no

[part30] for old time’s sake

[part31] we need to talk

[part32] third wheeling

[part33] i ❤️ you

{part34} Je t'aime

-----------------———-the end———----------------

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.

𝗗𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗬 𝗢𝗡 𝗗𝗨𝗧𝗬

After a long day of stressful practice, Chenle finds himself in deep sleep on his bed and wakes up when a strange child that came from nowhere jumped on him—scaring him in the progress. To add to everything, the young idol learns that he just traveled to the future and is able to meet his future daughter. But will Chenle be able to be that great husband and father when he doesn’t even have a single clue on what’s going on?

PAIRING : idol!zhong chenle x reader

GENRE : parallel universe au, time travelling au, angst, heartfelt, fluff, family au, dad!chenle, slice of life, crack

WC : 6.41k

WARNINGS : cuss words, parenthood, pressure, stress, insecurities, the story isn’t really focused on chenle and the reader, mentions of miscarriage

TAG LIST : @annikae @inupinggu​ @ahtisa02 @severefireangelprune @mastergibbs93 @ukiyokan @changminurheart​ @terjeno​ @celestialjaem​ @kodasity​ @jaeymark​ @ambi01 @resceluwu​ @jenoobies​ @chichhihaa​ @daegalfangirl​ @meiinumaki​ @nurenciye​ @nctdom​ @rinhyun​ @butternutsallday​ @ryu-naa​ @aprilpari​ @jaehyunsjasmine​ + fill out this form to be added on my general tag list.

AUTHOR’S NOTES : chenle’s gunna be a great dad no shit <3333 also this is just a replacement for caught in tape…heh..

“REPEAT FROM THE TOP! THREE, TWO, ONE— NO! CHENLE, THAT’S THE WRONG STEP!”

Twenty one-year-old Zhong Chenle breathed heavily, although he really wasn’t sure if it’s from the ache he felt in all his limbs or how tired he was from practicing all day long. “How many times do I have to tell you? You bend your right knee and do a simple body roll to turn to the left. How hard is that? You know what, I don’t care anymore.” NCT Dream’s choreographer, Joo Juwon, sighed in disappointment and eyed every member before shaking his head.

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𝙂𝙇𝙄𝙏𝘾𝙃 𝙈𝙊𝘿𝙀: 𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙘𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 !

Welcome to GLITCH MODE; an rpg starring none other than the nct dream members! In each mission, you will take on the role of a new character and play through the story quest to reach the end!

[MAIN MENU]: from controllers and professional gaming pc’s, to head sets and twitch subs— the boys have it all. competitive, smart and ever ready to win, they begin to realize that there’s another prize lying out in the real world for them, the prize of your heart.

[SETTINGS]: fluff, angst, gamer! au, streamer! au, various trope pairings, fluff, angst, comedy, romance, suggestive, food, profanity, etc. warnings and themes will be added with every individual fic.

[DURATION]: speedrun: 3k | playthrough: 9k

[NEW GAME]: START (latest release)

▸𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝟐 | na jaemin

version: streamer! jaemin, gamer! jaemin, friends with benefits au, profanity, fluff, slight comedy, angst duration: tba closed beta test: Na Jaemin has always been player 1, the one at the top of the player chart with all the wins and everything he could possibly want. Being the best sometimes got to his head and unfortunately for you, you were the girl who was hopelessly in love with him, eager to please. It’s sad really, the fact he only ever saw you as player 2.

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▸𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐒𝟓 | lee donghyuck

version: streamer! hyuck, gamer! hyuck, established relationship au, profanity, comedy, fluff, slight angst duration: tba closed beta test: Your boyfriend is sweet and considerate, always looking out for you and making sure to be there for you. You had met him in one of your college classes and although you had been with him for over two years, sometimes you wonder if he loved his PlayStation 5 more than he loved you.

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▸𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | lee jeno

version: gamer! jeno, streamer! jeno, enemies to lovers but also friends to lovers, profanity, fluff, comedy, angst duration: tba closed beta test: Lee Jeno is the epitome of everything you could ever hate, and the feeling is mutual. You’ve competed in almost everything against each other, determined to gain the upper hand. On a totally unrelated note, that fun streamer you’re pretty good friends with is thinking about doing a face reveal.

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▸𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄 | zhong chenle

version: gamer! chenle, streamer! chenle, friends to lovers, profanity, fluff, comedy, mutual pining, angst duration: tba closed beta test: Zhong Chenle wasn’t the type of guy to get nervous easily. He had known his worth ever since he was a little kid, so it wasn’t often that he found his palms sweating and words stumbling over each other. The only time that happened was when you were involved.

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▸𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑 | mark lee

version: gamer! mark, streamer! mark, strangers to lovers, profanity, fluff, comedy, angst duration: tba closed beta test: Mark Lee was popular, there was no doubt about that. Being one of the most relevant twitch streamers tended to do that to you in the online world as well as the offline one. That popularity led to a plethora of people falling for his sweet demeanor and pretty smile, so you knew that winning his heart would be a challenging game it itself.

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▸𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐒 | huang renjun

version: gamer! renjun, streamer! renjun, exes to lovers, profanity, fluff, comedy, angst duration: tba closed beta test: You’re heard of crying in the club, now get ready for crying on your DS! There was only one person in the world who managed to get you doing that and it was none other than your darling ex-boyfriend; Huang Renjun. The world hates you though, because you end up having to compete against him in a gaming competition. Using a DS.

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▸𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 | park jisung

version: gamer! jisung, streamer! jisung, best friends to lovers, profanity, fluff, comedy, angst,  duration: tba closed beta test: Jisung was the complete opposite of you, he liked peaceful games like animal crossing and you liked league. He liked story based games and you liked horror. Too bad that he was head over heels for you, because if there was one this both his viewers and you liked to do, it was to make him suffer.

CLICK TO PLAY!

proposing to you | nct dream

“Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

pairing » nct dream (individual members) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, non-idol au!, marriage au! (well it leads to it)

genre » it's all just fluff and vibes here hehe, dreamies who are all very much in love with you, mark's one makes me chuckle, renjun's one makes me wanna squish his cheeks (i miss him 😭), jeno's one makes me melt, haechan's one is chaotically (?) romantic (in my opinion), jaemin's one makes me want to have pets again so bad, chenle's one makes me want to splurge and treat myself, jisung's one is too adorable for me

word count; estimated reading time » 4303 (total); ~16 mins (total)

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » nicknames; members to reader (love, bubs), lots of kissing, ...not proofread---

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my very first time doing something like this. this scenario has been in my head for some time and i finally had the time to sit and write it all 🥰 (and also because sem 1 results come out later today and this is my way of forgetting about it uhm 🤠)

this is my personal take on how each member from dream would propose to you!! i tried to make them all with similar word count but i can't help but to get carried away with some 🥹

Mark sits on the stool, one foot on the ground while the other is on the footrest, making sure that his guitar is tuned properly and that the new strings that he bought yesterday are set up properly. To ease his tension he strums random chords and raps random words on top, making the other Dreamies lovingly judge (and tease) him. Jeno would be tasked with calming him down, while Haechan does the exact opposite of what Jeno is doing, purposely annoying him to get his mind off his nervousness. Either way, it worked well to get the lovesick boy from the reason why they’re all gathered today. 

“You both are too loud!” Renjun says when Chenle adds random notes to Mark’s singing, belting high notes that are out of his range whilst also purposely hitting them off-tune.

“She’s probably going to walk in and think we’re crazy,” Jisung whispers to the boy who scolded Haechan not long after, who decided to join in on the chaos.

“Well, the point is that she doesn’t see the chaos right now…” Jeno lets out a nervous grin, turning his head to the still-closed door, “Maybe one of us should stand outside and text someone in the room or something.”

“No,” Jaemin crosses his arms, “This is funny,” taking out his phone to start recording, making the other three facepalm at how he’s indirectly contributing to the chaos. 

In the end, the noise and chaos were too loud for anyone in the room to realise the door opening. When he noticed you from the other side of the room, hand over your mouth, cheeks rising at the scene, his voice cracked and his cheeks blushed instantly. Mark’s voice cracked and his coughing caused the other boys to be immediately disciplined, rushing to their scheduled spots in their room as Mark mutters an “Oh crap…” thinking that everything has all been ruined.

You tried to keep your laughs at bay at your pouting boyfriend, but the image of him being silly only made it harder for you to wipe the smile off your face. But soon after, you realise the decoration around the room and the heart-shaped balloons and the unique balloons shaped like rings. Understanding how this is a different occasion to a date that you expected him to set up, you blurted a quick “No, I didn't see anything!” and rushed out the door, heart beating fast at the possible connotations behind the set-up.

It will forever become a memory that you two will always bring up whenever and wherever. A slight mention of it would instantly bring out a shy Mark who hides his red face in the crook of your neck, forever in love with you.

“Ah! That proposal was supposed to be perfect.”

Your mind replays the scene back again. After running out of the room, you waited around five more minutes, trying to calm the beating against your chest. When you did enter back, your eyes were only focused on Mark who started performing the little piece that he has prepared for you. Your body sways to the rhythm and the sweet melody of his voice and Mark who kept his eyes on yours for the majority of the performance only made the moment even more special. You remember the way you hopped on stage, only wanting to be held in his arms and unable to let go. Eventually, you did and Mark got down on one knee with the ring that he had prepared for this moment. Reminiscing the time always made you chuckle and Mark pouted and groaned, knowing that you were lost in that time once more. 

A kiss lands on his lips, wiping the pout effectively from his lips, “It’s perfect because it was you, Markie.”

Renjun is pacing around the room, making sure the decorations are placed at their designated spots properly. He would circle the room countless times, making sure the flowers were fresh and presented in the way that he liked whilst his hands busied themselves with playing with the case of your ring; that he hopes will be on your fourth finger soon.

Mark massages his shoulder, relieving his body tension. Jaemin has his camera ready to take pictures whenever he can, making sure not to interfere with the small bubble that Renjun would create with you. Jisung, being more responsible than the older members most of the time stands still with a proud look on his face while Chenle gives him a thumbs up along with Jeno as well. Haechan is just as encouraging; Renjun’s threat to make sure he didn’t cause trouble playing in his head.

“I think everything is set up,” Jaemin says as he takes more photos of the venue to add for the memory book.

“You’re playing a very important role here,” Haechan comments, a hand resting on his hand, “Don’t mess it up.”

Jaemin replies with a slightly menacing smile, “Don’t mess with me, Lee Haechan.”

“To be honest, everything will go well as long as Renjun doesn’t go blank as soon as she walks in,” Chenle teases the older boy at how in love and speechless Renjun would be around you.

“True,” Mark gives him an encouraging thumbs up, “But you’ll be fine. She’ll be here any minute now actually.”

You received instructions through text from Jeno about meeting at a place, a dress code and a time “when you should open the door (don’t open it before!)”. The text is odd and when asking Renjun about it, the tips of his ears growing red from each passing second tell you that he does know what’s going on but it's cleer he wouldn't tell. You couldn’t ask any more questions after he pulled your face into his for a quick kiss, hushing you from any more questions. 

When you walked in, outfit in line with the theme of the room and matching with his, Renjun’s heart melted once more, falling in love with you all over again. You slowly walk towards your boyfriend, eyes flickering around the area and taking in the decorations as well as giving the boys a smile and greeting back. When Renjun is infront of you, he playfully bows, momentarily stumbling and losing his balance. You cup his cheeks when he lifts his head, kissing his lips, not bothering about the camera capturing it all. 

“W-Woah,” Renjun stumbles with his words, “That was nice.” 

“This whole place is nice, Junnie,” your boyfriend is relieved by your words, “You look beyond nice, by the way.”

Few minutes later, Renjun takes his position on the floor and Jaemin captures it the memories with his camera: the way it dawned on you that he's proposing, to when you finally sealed Renjun’s love and to the way Renjun takes your lips after. 

Jaemin smiles behind the camera, capturing all the moments to make a physical memory of it all.

Including getting extremely closer than he said he wouldn’t take a better picture of the band around your finger.

“So this is why you made me dress up?” Taking in the fragrance of the flowers that Jisung gave as a token of congratulations from the rest of the boys.

Renjun nods, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Jeno and his little smile that would reach his eyes. That was one of the first reasons why you fell for Jeno but to him, it’s his default expression whenever he sees, thinks of hears anything related to you. At the start of your relationship, he’s shy about receiving and giving you affection but you didn’t mind initiating the skinship, hugging and pecking his cheeks that would gradually lean towards his lips. He loves the skinship from you even in front of the rest of the boys who would tease him about it.

“She loves you,” Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at the goodbye kiss you gave him.

“I love her more,” he replies, his eyes filled with heart shapes.

As the relationship developed and you got a little place with him, Jeno would slowly be the one who initiated the skinship, hugging your waist to sleep and keeping you close to him whenever he could. Even outside, he would be the one to link your hands together first and show his love through the bouquet of flowers from the start of any date.

“These bouquets just keep growing bigger and bigger each time in my opinion,” twirling the gift around in your hand while the other is in Jeno’s.

Your boyfriend kissed your head, “It didn’t really change from the first one, bubs.” Content with the little giggle you gave as he watched the elevator take you both to the floor where he booked the last dinner where you would be his girlfriend and the last anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend; the start of a new title to the both of you.

His hand is stashed in his pocket where the ring is and he couldn’t help but gulp nervousnessly. The dinner went smoothly with the courses that Jeno pre-ordered and throughout the whole date, he loves the way you fill the atmosphere with the times that you didn’t spend together for the day, him updating you on his day too. He would never be tired of hearing your voice and the eye smile on him is a clear indication of that.

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” Jeno says as he kisses the back of your hand. He approaches one of the workers there, asking for the largest bouquet that he has ever given you in their back room where he dropped it off hours before the dinner. 

You’re preoccupied with taking pictures of the view from the windows that span from the floor to the ceiling but your boyfriend’s reaction comes into view and your phone screen rests on the table once again, ready to greet him. What you didn’t expect is when Jeno kneeled to one knee, arms outstretching the flowers he had with the opened box nestling between its petals.

“Jeno?” You asked him, tears beginning to fill up your eyes.

“I thought it would be nice to ask here, at this place. We always spent our anniversaries here and even today,” happy with how the corner of your lips rises with the event, “Will you marry me?”

It took you less than a millisecond to respond with a nod and a loud “Yes”. When Jeno stood from his position, your arms were immediately wrapped around his, hiding your lower face behind his shoulder.

“I thought you were shy.” 

“I am,” heat rising to his cheeks, “But I wanted to make this special for my very special girl.”

The Dreamies have never seen Haechan so nervous before. It bought them back to the times when he was crushing on you, blushing and being giddy all the time at the thought of you. They remember how Haechan was asking Jaemin for advice for the outfit on your first date that you prepared, and he rocked up with something really formal for a casual date, mixing up the place for the restaurant as a similar four-star restaurant. It would be something that not only you would tease him about, but when news spread to the Dreamies, they used it as the main thing to tease him about whenever he was being mischievous. It did die down quickly as after learning that the memory is very fond to you, the teasing wouldn’t work against him anymore.

The necklace that Haechan gifted you that day would be a reminder of the happiness that he has been giving you from the start of the journey and just like the sun pendant that reminds you of him, you love how just a glance of it knocks out all your worries that life may have weighed you down with. 

It all seemed to be a recent memory, but that was quite a long time ago for everyone who knew what happened. Now, Haechan is waiting for you to come back home after a night out with your friends and earlier in the day, the boy who was pacing around the room about what to wear to his first date with now is now pacing around the jewellery store on the perfect ring on your hand. 

He talked with the boys about his proposal plan to which the others have chipped in and helped him with. In the end, some of their advice is taken on board, but most of them made him grip his hair and made him say, “I’m just going to wing it.”

To which Mark replied with, “Sure, dude. If it doesn’t go ‘well’, it’s another thing to tease you about.” 

In all seriousness though, he wants the proposal to be perfect; just like how you are to him. He plops down on the bed, raising the box to the ceiling as he looks at the diamond he worked hard for. At the sound of the front door creaking and your voice greeting him from the other side of the house, he pockets the jewellery in his sweatpants, jumping from the cotton to greet you.

Your arms were outstretched and Haechan brings you to his embrace immediately, “How was your day?”

“So good,” your voice muffled with the hug, “We bought friendship rings,” pushing him away slightly to show him, “We thought about this so much but we thought it’s so pretty that we couldn’t not get it.”

You realised that as much as Haechan smiled at the decoration around your finger, it didn’t go unnoticed that he was playing with the hem of your jacket. An eyebrow perks up from that and you give him a kiss on his cheek, asking him what was wrong.

He took a deep breath, took the box from his pockets, got down to one knee and opened the jewellery to you for the first time, “Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

Growing up, you were never able to have pets. Your dad is allergic to cats, one of the pets that you’ve always wanted, and your mum isn’t sure of how well the family would take care of another life due to how busy life is. You totally agree with her because pets should be well taken care of as much as any other kind of life form.

When you and Jaemin were financially ready to get a place for yourselves, one of his first promises was to get a pet that you wanted. Through motivation and a lot of saving, making sure that you were both ready to take care of another life and doing all the research on how to take care of cats, you and Jaemin finally adopted a pet to take care of. Jaemin is also thankful for the added company in the house as your work schedule wouldn’t match with his and that would mean that one of you would be alone in the house. Having another pet would make the house more lively and less lonely. With gradual time and more financial stability, you were able to adopt two more that you both love equally. 

“We should get another one,” you comment as Jaemin turns off the bedroom lights.

Your boyfriend hums at your thoughts, knowing exactly what you mean. He slips into the covers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to his warmth, “You really love taking care of others, don’t you?”

You close your eyes and hum a response, exhaling at the comfort of him next to you. “You know how I am.”

“I do, bubs. I do,” and he really does. With how your eyes light up whenever you take care of the people around you, always loving how you’re able to help out others whether it be him, your family, his family or the three cats that are sleeping soundly in the living room, it comes naturally that he’s thought of settling down with you permanently for the rest of his life; and having a little mini you or mini him later down the track. Similar talks have happened in the relationship and he thought that it would be perfect to make it happen soon.

No more words were said that night but Jaemin kissed a final kiss onto your soft lips and made a mental note to prepare for another life chapter with you. A few days later, he was able to speed through his work, being able to finish early to see the ring that he had been monitoring through the website. As soon as his eyes landed on it, he immediately thought of you and that’s how he made his final decision to buy it.

Thankfully, you had a later end to your work today and that gave Jaemin enough time to prepare a small, quick dinner as well as dressing the three cats into little outfits that would be fitting to wear in a wedding. 

“Come on, Luna,” he says as he struggles to get her paw in, “I don’t have a lot of time and I want to make mummy proud!” With this, the cat seemed to comply instantly and Jaemin squished the cat’s cheeks in thankfulness.

With each cat, he securely attached a note on their ventral side: Love, Marry, Me, and plans to release each cat one by one from the bedroom when you come in. Jaemin just made it in time, quickly scooping up all the cats into his arms, and rushing to hide in the bedroom.

“I’m home!” You routinely shouted, “Nana?” Confused about why the house was so quiet, especially when knowing that Jaemin finished work a long time ago. “Maybe he went out and forgot to tell me?” But that’s quickly proved wrong when pipping hot homemade food were neatly set out on the table. “Luna! Lucy! Luke!” Calling out to your three cats, wondering how none of them rushed to the door like they usually would.

Suddenly, the door to your room opens and you gasp, scared that an intruder is in your house but out comes all your three cats in different, cute attires. “Oh!” Kneeling on the floor to get a better look at them, “Did dadda do this? Hm?” Picking up Luna with his little white dress, rubbing your nose on hers. “What’s this?” Reading the ‘Love’ message on her stomach. You set Lucy down, picking up Lucy in a similar outfit, “Marry…” Your eyes widened, looking at a groom-like dressed Luke who sat patiently, licking the back of his exposed paw. Sure enough, the final and last note makes your jaw drop.

Jaemin emerges from your bedroom, smiling at how you look up at him in shock. He kneels on the floor, “I was supposed to let them out one by one but they got excited," he shrugs with a smile. "As much as I would love another pet,” he hinges the velvet box open, “If you would like to, I would also love a mini you or mini-me.” A hand rises to your gaped mouth, eyes staring at the cushioned ring. “But first, will you marry me?”

It seems that Luna, Lucy and Luke were on board with the idea, jumping on your lap and resting their little paws on your arms. Sure enough, you nod and verbally express your actions. The “Yes” is all Jaemin took to carefully place the three nosy cats away from you, sliding the new ring on your hand and pulling you into a kiss.

During ring shopping, Chenle would look around the places he could find and spend a lot of time window shopping on all the rings that were available in your size. He invited Jisung along on the journey and the younger boy was more stressed than him with how he was handling the situation. From the very first store, he already has about five rings that he’s thinking would be perfect for you. Jisung gave his input on each one which Chenle is thankful for, but did minimal in narrowing down the options. He even asked the other members, but it was still the same result. 

In the end, after visiting all the stores that he had listed, Chenle purchased about ten rings from each store. The employees are used to customers who are stuck between multiple choices as a symbol of love for their partner. But they weren’t prepared for Chenle to cross his arms, calmly exhale point to the rings and say, “I’ll just take them all.” 

Jisung tried to save his wallet but after deep thinking and checking the return policy, he decided to buy all the ones that his heart couldn't let go of. He'll figure out what to do with the rest of the diamonds later. Because of his massive purchase, on the day of the proposal, he looked calm and collected but inside, his heart was beating like he just ran a marathon. It was running so fast to the point that you asked him if there was something troubling him when you laid on his chest to sleep last night. Chenle shook his head firmly but from the way his finger trembled a little when he was patting your head, you couldn’t help but to question him once more.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

After some time, your raised eyebrows relaxed, “Okay. Tell me if it weighs too much and whenever you’re ready, okay?”

And he’s so excited to tell you what is on his mind soon. The thought of finally being able to spoil the love of his life for the rest of his life excited him so much that with the boxes looking similar across the stores, he didn't realise that he also grabbed the one that he hadn't decided on the previous night. When you nodded to his proposal, too stunned and speechless from happiness to speak, the different ring to his expectations when he opened the velvet box made him let out the famous Pikachu face. 

“What?” You chuckled and tilted your head in confusion at his reaction, completely unaware of the boxes hidden under the bed. 

“N-Nothing,” well, it looks like he'll explain later but with the happiness written on your face and the kisses you showered him with, maybe he'll just gift the rest of the spares to you.

“Don't be so nervous,” a hit lands on the side of Jisung’s arm from Chenle, “She'll love this.”

In the early stages of dating, you were always sharing your date plans with him, planning most of them. You made sure Jisung didn’t mind them because being in a relationship isn’t only about one person. Jisung loves the way you talk enthusiastically about all the places you want to go with him and all the activities that you want to do with him. Jisung would give you that adorable gummy smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons whenever he did so. Those small event plans became more detailed, expanding into different topics naturally such as proposals, weddings and honeymoon places and Jisung being in love with everything about you, would mentally take notes of what you love for each occasion.

“I promise,” Jisung stops your words for a second, “We will do them all together.”

There was a time he was caught writing it all down on his phone to which Chenle teased him endlessly, the other Dreamies joining along at their youngest being in love. It’s not that he will forget the things that make you happy, he just wants to be able to see it all so that he can plan the perfect proposal. They promised to help him with every step when he was ready. 

Today is that day.

Jaemin tells him that the hinge of the engagement ring’s box would eventually break with how much he’s fiddling with it but it’s the only way he could distract his nervousness.

“Maybe you should recite your speech once more,” Jeno clears his throat, opening the paper in his hand.

“Jeno loves Jisung, guys. Look at him,” Haechan teased his same-aged friend. His bear-like friend would chase him around the room and Jisung would be shouting at the two to be aware of the decorations around the room.

You came in through the chaos, the door opening inwards where Haechan stops abruptly to avoid his face smashing against the wood and Jeno back hugged him as a result of that. You peeked behind the door, confused but smiling at the two. Before you could question what was going on, Renjun kicked Haechan out the door and welcomed you in.

“He’s not prepared for this,” pointing at your boyfriend who hides behind Jaemin. “Stay here while I talk to Haechan for ruining this moment.”

But the moment wasn’t ruined at all because just looking at how your Pinterest board came into life and the boys slowly giving Jisung the spotlight while you walked down towards him, everything is indeed beautiful and perfect.

“Oh wow,” you breathed out, “It's like my Pinterest came to life.”

Hearing that is the biggest compliment to Jisung who spent hours analysing your saved folders of wedding venue inspirations, trying to find a consistent theme. He gifted the teddy bear on his hand to you, pecking your lips and pulling away with a deep red blush across his cheeks. He readies himself to his rehearsed position after, “Will you marry…me?” Endeared by the way you hide your face behind the teddy bear. Yet, your answer is clear without your words.

Just like how he gives you a kiss on the lips with a “Yes” from you and the silver band around your finger that sealed your happily ever after.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

hi mika!! 🥰 thank you so much for reading and commenting about my work 😁 it's very much appreciated! jaemin's idea honestly stemmed from me wanting to have pets again like before but unlike the reader here, i'm very much aware that i'm not ready yet 😭 someday though!! 🤭 have a great rest of the night/day!!

proposing to you | nct dream

“Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

pairing » nct dream (individual members) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, non-idol au!, marriage au! (well it leads to it)

genre » it's all just fluff and vibes here hehe, dreamies who are all very much in love with you, mark's one makes me chuckle, renjun's one makes me wanna squish his cheeks (i miss him 😭), jeno's one makes me melt, haechan's one is chaotically (?) romantic (in my opinion), jaemin's one makes me want to have pets again so bad, chenle's one makes me want to splurge and treat myself, jisung's one is too adorable for me

word count; estimated reading time » 4303 (total); ~16 mins (total)

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » nicknames; members to reader (love, bubs), lots of kissing, ...not proofread---

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my very first time doing something like this. this scenario has been in my head for some time and i finally had the time to sit and write it all 🥰 (and also because sem 1 results come out later today and this is my way of forgetting about it uhm 🤠)

this is my personal take on how each member from dream would propose to you!! i tried to make them all with similar word count but i can't help but to get carried away with some 🥹

Mark sits on the stool, one foot on the ground while the other is on the footrest, making sure that his guitar is tuned properly and that the new strings that he bought yesterday are set up properly. To ease his tension he strums random chords and raps random words on top, making the other Dreamies lovingly judge (and tease) him. Jeno would be tasked with calming him down, while Haechan does the exact opposite of what Jeno is doing, purposely annoying him to get his mind off his nervousness. Either way, it worked well to get the lovesick boy from the reason why they’re all gathered today. 

“You both are too loud!” Renjun says when Chenle adds random notes to Mark’s singing, belting high notes that are out of his range whilst also purposely hitting them off-tune.

“She’s probably going to walk in and think we’re crazy,” Jisung whispers to the boy who scolded Haechan not long after, who decided to join in on the chaos.

“Well, the point is that she doesn’t see the chaos right now…” Jeno lets out a nervous grin, turning his head to the still-closed door, “Maybe one of us should stand outside and text someone in the room or something.”

“No,” Jaemin crosses his arms, “This is funny,” taking out his phone to start recording, making the other three facepalm at how he’s indirectly contributing to the chaos. 

In the end, the noise and chaos were too loud for anyone in the room to realise the door opening. When he noticed you from the other side of the room, hand over your mouth, cheeks rising at the scene, his voice cracked and his cheeks blushed instantly. Mark’s voice cracked and his coughing caused the other boys to be immediately disciplined, rushing to their scheduled spots in their room as Mark mutters an “Oh crap…” thinking that everything has all been ruined.

You tried to keep your laughs at bay at your pouting boyfriend, but the image of him being silly only made it harder for you to wipe the smile off your face. But soon after, you realise the decoration around the room and the heart-shaped balloons and the unique balloons shaped like rings. Understanding how this is a different occasion to a date that you expected him to set up, you blurted a quick “No, I didn't see anything!” and rushed out the door, heart beating fast at the possible connotations behind the set-up.

It will forever become a memory that you two will always bring up whenever and wherever. A slight mention of it would instantly bring out a shy Mark who hides his red face in the crook of your neck, forever in love with you.

“Ah! That proposal was supposed to be perfect.”

Your mind replays the scene back again. After running out of the room, you waited around five more minutes, trying to calm the beating against your chest. When you did enter back, your eyes were only focused on Mark who started performing the little piece that he has prepared for you. Your body sways to the rhythm and the sweet melody of his voice and Mark who kept his eyes on yours for the majority of the performance only made the moment even more special. You remember the way you hopped on stage, only wanting to be held in his arms and unable to let go. Eventually, you did and Mark got down on one knee with the ring that he had prepared for this moment. Reminiscing the time always made you chuckle and Mark pouted and groaned, knowing that you were lost in that time once more. 

A kiss lands on his lips, wiping the pout effectively from his lips, “It’s perfect because it was you, Markie.”

Renjun is pacing around the room, making sure the decorations are placed at their designated spots properly. He would circle the room countless times, making sure the flowers were fresh and presented in the way that he liked whilst his hands busied themselves with playing with the case of your ring; that he hopes will be on your fourth finger soon.

Mark massages his shoulder, relieving his body tension. Jaemin has his camera ready to take pictures whenever he can, making sure not to interfere with the small bubble that Renjun would create with you. Jisung, being more responsible than the older members most of the time stands still with a proud look on his face while Chenle gives him a thumbs up along with Jeno as well. Haechan is just as encouraging; Renjun’s threat to make sure he didn’t cause trouble playing in his head.

“I think everything is set up,” Jaemin says as he takes more photos of the venue to add for the memory book.

“You’re playing a very important role here,” Haechan comments, a hand resting on his hand, “Don’t mess it up.”

Jaemin replies with a slightly menacing smile, “Don’t mess with me, Lee Haechan.”

“To be honest, everything will go well as long as Renjun doesn’t go blank as soon as she walks in,” Chenle teases the older boy at how in love and speechless Renjun would be around you.

“True,” Mark gives him an encouraging thumbs up, “But you’ll be fine. She’ll be here any minute now actually.”

You received instructions through text from Jeno about meeting at a place, a dress code and a time “when you should open the door (don’t open it before!)”. The text is odd and when asking Renjun about it, the tips of his ears growing red from each passing second tell you that he does know what’s going on but it's cleer he wouldn't tell. You couldn’t ask any more questions after he pulled your face into his for a quick kiss, hushing you from any more questions. 

When you walked in, outfit in line with the theme of the room and matching with his, Renjun’s heart melted once more, falling in love with you all over again. You slowly walk towards your boyfriend, eyes flickering around the area and taking in the decorations as well as giving the boys a smile and greeting back. When Renjun is infront of you, he playfully bows, momentarily stumbling and losing his balance. You cup his cheeks when he lifts his head, kissing his lips, not bothering about the camera capturing it all. 

“W-Woah,” Renjun stumbles with his words, “That was nice.” 

“This whole place is nice, Junnie,” your boyfriend is relieved by your words, “You look beyond nice, by the way.”

Few minutes later, Renjun takes his position on the floor and Jaemin captures it the memories with his camera: the way it dawned on you that he's proposing, to when you finally sealed Renjun’s love and to the way Renjun takes your lips after. 

Jaemin smiles behind the camera, capturing all the moments to make a physical memory of it all.

Including getting extremely closer than he said he wouldn’t take a better picture of the band around your finger.

“So this is why you made me dress up?” Taking in the fragrance of the flowers that Jisung gave as a token of congratulations from the rest of the boys.

Renjun nods, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Jeno and his little smile that would reach his eyes. That was one of the first reasons why you fell for Jeno but to him, it’s his default expression whenever he sees, thinks of hears anything related to you. At the start of your relationship, he’s shy about receiving and giving you affection but you didn’t mind initiating the skinship, hugging and pecking his cheeks that would gradually lean towards his lips. He loves the skinship from you even in front of the rest of the boys who would tease him about it.

“She loves you,” Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at the goodbye kiss you gave him.

“I love her more,” he replies, his eyes filled with heart shapes.

As the relationship developed and you got a little place with him, Jeno would slowly be the one who initiated the skinship, hugging your waist to sleep and keeping you close to him whenever he could. Even outside, he would be the one to link your hands together first and show his love through the bouquet of flowers from the start of any date.

“These bouquets just keep growing bigger and bigger each time in my opinion,” twirling the gift around in your hand while the other is in Jeno’s.

Your boyfriend kissed your head, “It didn’t really change from the first one, bubs.” Content with the little giggle you gave as he watched the elevator take you both to the floor where he booked the last dinner where you would be his girlfriend and the last anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend; the start of a new title to the both of you.

His hand is stashed in his pocket where the ring is and he couldn’t help but gulp nervousnessly. The dinner went smoothly with the courses that Jeno pre-ordered and throughout the whole date, he loves the way you fill the atmosphere with the times that you didn’t spend together for the day, him updating you on his day too. He would never be tired of hearing your voice and the eye smile on him is a clear indication of that.

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” Jeno says as he kisses the back of your hand. He approaches one of the workers there, asking for the largest bouquet that he has ever given you in their back room where he dropped it off hours before the dinner. 

You’re preoccupied with taking pictures of the view from the windows that span from the floor to the ceiling but your boyfriend’s reaction comes into view and your phone screen rests on the table once again, ready to greet him. What you didn’t expect is when Jeno kneeled to one knee, arms outstretching the flowers he had with the opened box nestling between its petals.

“Jeno?” You asked him, tears beginning to fill up your eyes.

“I thought it would be nice to ask here, at this place. We always spent our anniversaries here and even today,” happy with how the corner of your lips rises with the event, “Will you marry me?”

It took you less than a millisecond to respond with a nod and a loud “Yes”. When Jeno stood from his position, your arms were immediately wrapped around his, hiding your lower face behind his shoulder.

“I thought you were shy.” 

“I am,” heat rising to his cheeks, “But I wanted to make this special for my very special girl.”

The Dreamies have never seen Haechan so nervous before. It bought them back to the times when he was crushing on you, blushing and being giddy all the time at the thought of you. They remember how Haechan was asking Jaemin for advice for the outfit on your first date that you prepared, and he rocked up with something really formal for a casual date, mixing up the place for the restaurant as a similar four-star restaurant. It would be something that not only you would tease him about, but when news spread to the Dreamies, they used it as the main thing to tease him about whenever he was being mischievous. It did die down quickly as after learning that the memory is very fond to you, the teasing wouldn’t work against him anymore.

The necklace that Haechan gifted you that day would be a reminder of the happiness that he has been giving you from the start of the journey and just like the sun pendant that reminds you of him, you love how just a glance of it knocks out all your worries that life may have weighed you down with. 

It all seemed to be a recent memory, but that was quite a long time ago for everyone who knew what happened. Now, Haechan is waiting for you to come back home after a night out with your friends and earlier in the day, the boy who was pacing around the room about what to wear to his first date with now is now pacing around the jewellery store on the perfect ring on your hand. 

He talked with the boys about his proposal plan to which the others have chipped in and helped him with. In the end, some of their advice is taken on board, but most of them made him grip his hair and made him say, “I’m just going to wing it.”

To which Mark replied with, “Sure, dude. If it doesn’t go ‘well’, it’s another thing to tease you about.” 

In all seriousness though, he wants the proposal to be perfect; just like how you are to him. He plops down on the bed, raising the box to the ceiling as he looks at the diamond he worked hard for. At the sound of the front door creaking and your voice greeting him from the other side of the house, he pockets the jewellery in his sweatpants, jumping from the cotton to greet you.

Your arms were outstretched and Haechan brings you to his embrace immediately, “How was your day?”

“So good,” your voice muffled with the hug, “We bought friendship rings,” pushing him away slightly to show him, “We thought about this so much but we thought it’s so pretty that we couldn’t not get it.”

You realised that as much as Haechan smiled at the decoration around your finger, it didn’t go unnoticed that he was playing with the hem of your jacket. An eyebrow perks up from that and you give him a kiss on his cheek, asking him what was wrong.

He took a deep breath, took the box from his pockets, got down to one knee and opened the jewellery to you for the first time, “Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

Growing up, you were never able to have pets. Your dad is allergic to cats, one of the pets that you’ve always wanted, and your mum isn’t sure of how well the family would take care of another life due to how busy life is. You totally agree with her because pets should be well taken care of as much as any other kind of life form.

When you and Jaemin were financially ready to get a place for yourselves, one of his first promises was to get a pet that you wanted. Through motivation and a lot of saving, making sure that you were both ready to take care of another life and doing all the research on how to take care of cats, you and Jaemin finally adopted a pet to take care of. Jaemin is also thankful for the added company in the house as your work schedule wouldn’t match with his and that would mean that one of you would be alone in the house. Having another pet would make the house more lively and less lonely. With gradual time and more financial stability, you were able to adopt two more that you both love equally. 

“We should get another one,” you comment as Jaemin turns off the bedroom lights.

Your boyfriend hums at your thoughts, knowing exactly what you mean. He slips into the covers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to his warmth, “You really love taking care of others, don’t you?”

You close your eyes and hum a response, exhaling at the comfort of him next to you. “You know how I am.”

“I do, bubs. I do,” and he really does. With how your eyes light up whenever you take care of the people around you, always loving how you’re able to help out others whether it be him, your family, his family or the three cats that are sleeping soundly in the living room, it comes naturally that he’s thought of settling down with you permanently for the rest of his life; and having a little mini you or mini him later down the track. Similar talks have happened in the relationship and he thought that it would be perfect to make it happen soon.

No more words were said that night but Jaemin kissed a final kiss onto your soft lips and made a mental note to prepare for another life chapter with you. A few days later, he was able to speed through his work, being able to finish early to see the ring that he had been monitoring through the website. As soon as his eyes landed on it, he immediately thought of you and that’s how he made his final decision to buy it.

Thankfully, you had a later end to your work today and that gave Jaemin enough time to prepare a small, quick dinner as well as dressing the three cats into little outfits that would be fitting to wear in a wedding. 

“Come on, Luna,” he says as he struggles to get her paw in, “I don’t have a lot of time and I want to make mummy proud!” With this, the cat seemed to comply instantly and Jaemin squished the cat’s cheeks in thankfulness.

With each cat, he securely attached a note on their ventral side: Love, Marry, Me, and plans to release each cat one by one from the bedroom when you come in. Jaemin just made it in time, quickly scooping up all the cats into his arms, and rushing to hide in the bedroom.

“I’m home!” You routinely shouted, “Nana?” Confused about why the house was so quiet, especially when knowing that Jaemin finished work a long time ago. “Maybe he went out and forgot to tell me?” But that’s quickly proved wrong when pipping hot homemade food were neatly set out on the table. “Luna! Lucy! Luke!” Calling out to your three cats, wondering how none of them rushed to the door like they usually would.

Suddenly, the door to your room opens and you gasp, scared that an intruder is in your house but out comes all your three cats in different, cute attires. “Oh!” Kneeling on the floor to get a better look at them, “Did dadda do this? Hm?” Picking up Luna with his little white dress, rubbing your nose on hers. “What’s this?” Reading the ‘Love’ message on her stomach. You set Lucy down, picking up Lucy in a similar outfit, “Marry…” Your eyes widened, looking at a groom-like dressed Luke who sat patiently, licking the back of his exposed paw. Sure enough, the final and last note makes your jaw drop.

Jaemin emerges from your bedroom, smiling at how you look up at him in shock. He kneels on the floor, “I was supposed to let them out one by one but they got excited," he shrugs with a smile. "As much as I would love another pet,” he hinges the velvet box open, “If you would like to, I would also love a mini you or mini-me.” A hand rises to your gaped mouth, eyes staring at the cushioned ring. “But first, will you marry me?”

It seems that Luna, Lucy and Luke were on board with the idea, jumping on your lap and resting their little paws on your arms. Sure enough, you nod and verbally express your actions. The “Yes” is all Jaemin took to carefully place the three nosy cats away from you, sliding the new ring on your hand and pulling you into a kiss.

During ring shopping, Chenle would look around the places he could find and spend a lot of time window shopping on all the rings that were available in your size. He invited Jisung along on the journey and the younger boy was more stressed than him with how he was handling the situation. From the very first store, he already has about five rings that he’s thinking would be perfect for you. Jisung gave his input on each one which Chenle is thankful for, but did minimal in narrowing down the options. He even asked the other members, but it was still the same result. 

In the end, after visiting all the stores that he had listed, Chenle purchased about ten rings from each store. The employees are used to customers who are stuck between multiple choices as a symbol of love for their partner. But they weren’t prepared for Chenle to cross his arms, calmly exhale point to the rings and say, “I’ll just take them all.” 

Jisung tried to save his wallet but after deep thinking and checking the return policy, he decided to buy all the ones that his heart couldn't let go of. He'll figure out what to do with the rest of the diamonds later. Because of his massive purchase, on the day of the proposal, he looked calm and collected but inside, his heart was beating like he just ran a marathon. It was running so fast to the point that you asked him if there was something troubling him when you laid on his chest to sleep last night. Chenle shook his head firmly but from the way his finger trembled a little when he was patting your head, you couldn’t help but to question him once more.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

After some time, your raised eyebrows relaxed, “Okay. Tell me if it weighs too much and whenever you’re ready, okay?”

And he’s so excited to tell you what is on his mind soon. The thought of finally being able to spoil the love of his life for the rest of his life excited him so much that with the boxes looking similar across the stores, he didn't realise that he also grabbed the one that he hadn't decided on the previous night. When you nodded to his proposal, too stunned and speechless from happiness to speak, the different ring to his expectations when he opened the velvet box made him let out the famous Pikachu face. 

“What?” You chuckled and tilted your head in confusion at his reaction, completely unaware of the boxes hidden under the bed. 

“N-Nothing,” well, it looks like he'll explain later but with the happiness written on your face and the kisses you showered him with, maybe he'll just gift the rest of the spares to you.

“Don't be so nervous,” a hit lands on the side of Jisung’s arm from Chenle, “She'll love this.”

In the early stages of dating, you were always sharing your date plans with him, planning most of them. You made sure Jisung didn’t mind them because being in a relationship isn’t only about one person. Jisung loves the way you talk enthusiastically about all the places you want to go with him and all the activities that you want to do with him. Jisung would give you that adorable gummy smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons whenever he did so. Those small event plans became more detailed, expanding into different topics naturally such as proposals, weddings and honeymoon places and Jisung being in love with everything about you, would mentally take notes of what you love for each occasion.

“I promise,” Jisung stops your words for a second, “We will do them all together.”

There was a time he was caught writing it all down on his phone to which Chenle teased him endlessly, the other Dreamies joining along at their youngest being in love. It’s not that he will forget the things that make you happy, he just wants to be able to see it all so that he can plan the perfect proposal. They promised to help him with every step when he was ready. 

Today is that day.

Jaemin tells him that the hinge of the engagement ring’s box would eventually break with how much he’s fiddling with it but it’s the only way he could distract his nervousness.

“Maybe you should recite your speech once more,” Jeno clears his throat, opening the paper in his hand.

“Jeno loves Jisung, guys. Look at him,” Haechan teased his same-aged friend. His bear-like friend would chase him around the room and Jisung would be shouting at the two to be aware of the decorations around the room.

You came in through the chaos, the door opening inwards where Haechan stops abruptly to avoid his face smashing against the wood and Jeno back hugged him as a result of that. You peeked behind the door, confused but smiling at the two. Before you could question what was going on, Renjun kicked Haechan out the door and welcomed you in.

“He’s not prepared for this,” pointing at your boyfriend who hides behind Jaemin. “Stay here while I talk to Haechan for ruining this moment.”

But the moment wasn’t ruined at all because just looking at how your Pinterest board came into life and the boys slowly giving Jisung the spotlight while you walked down towards him, everything is indeed beautiful and perfect.

“Oh wow,” you breathed out, “It's like my Pinterest came to life.”

Hearing that is the biggest compliment to Jisung who spent hours analysing your saved folders of wedding venue inspirations, trying to find a consistent theme. He gifted the teddy bear on his hand to you, pecking your lips and pulling away with a deep red blush across his cheeks. He readies himself to his rehearsed position after, “Will you marry…me?” Endeared by the way you hide your face behind the teddy bear. Yet, your answer is clear without your words.

Just like how he gives you a kiss on the lips with a “Yes” from you and the silver band around your finger that sealed your happily ever after.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

thank you for 100+ interactions!!

proposing to you | nct dream

“Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

pairing » nct dream (individual members) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, non-idol au!, marriage au! (well it leads to it)

genre » it's all just fluff and vibes here hehe, dreamies who are all very much in love with you, mark's one makes me chuckle, renjun's one makes me wanna squish his cheeks (i miss him 😭), jeno's one makes me melt, haechan's one is chaotically (?) romantic (in my opinion), jaemin's one makes me want to have pets again so bad, chenle's one makes me want to splurge and treat myself, jisung's one is too adorable for me

word count; estimated reading time » 4303 (total); ~16 mins (total)

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » nicknames; members to reader (love, bubs), lots of kissing, ...not proofread---

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

my very first time doing something like this. this scenario has been in my head for some time and i finally had the time to sit and write it all 🥰 (and also because sem 1 results come out later today and this is my way of forgetting about it uhm 🤠)

this is my personal take on how each member from dream would propose to you!! i tried to make them all with similar word count but i can't help but to get carried away with some 🥹

Mark sits on the stool, one foot on the ground while the other is on the footrest, making sure that his guitar is tuned properly and that the new strings that he bought yesterday are set up properly. To ease his tension he strums random chords and raps random words on top, making the other Dreamies lovingly judge (and tease) him. Jeno would be tasked with calming him down, while Haechan does the exact opposite of what Jeno is doing, purposely annoying him to get his mind off his nervousness. Either way, it worked well to get the lovesick boy from the reason why they’re all gathered today. 

“You both are too loud!” Renjun says when Chenle adds random notes to Mark’s singing, belting high notes that are out of his range whilst also purposely hitting them off-tune.

“She’s probably going to walk in and think we’re crazy,” Jisung whispers to the boy who scolded Haechan not long after, who decided to join in on the chaos.

“Well, the point is that she doesn’t see the chaos right now…” Jeno lets out a nervous grin, turning his head to the still-closed door, “Maybe one of us should stand outside and text someone in the room or something.”

“No,” Jaemin crosses his arms, “This is funny,” taking out his phone to start recording, making the other three facepalm at how he’s indirectly contributing to the chaos. 

In the end, the noise and chaos were too loud for anyone in the room to realise the door opening. When he noticed you from the other side of the room, hand over your mouth, cheeks rising at the scene, his voice cracked and his cheeks blushed instantly. Mark’s voice cracked and his coughing caused the other boys to be immediately disciplined, rushing to their scheduled spots in their room as Mark mutters an “Oh crap…” thinking that everything has all been ruined.

You tried to keep your laughs at bay at your pouting boyfriend, but the image of him being silly only made it harder for you to wipe the smile off your face. But soon after, you realise the decoration around the room and the heart-shaped balloons and the unique balloons shaped like rings. Understanding how this is a different occasion to a date that you expected him to set up, you blurted a quick “No, I didn't see anything!” and rushed out the door, heart beating fast at the possible connotations behind the set-up.

It will forever become a memory that you two will always bring up whenever and wherever. A slight mention of it would instantly bring out a shy Mark who hides his red face in the crook of your neck, forever in love with you.

“Ah! That proposal was supposed to be perfect.”

Your mind replays the scene back again. After running out of the room, you waited around five more minutes, trying to calm the beating against your chest. When you did enter back, your eyes were only focused on Mark who started performing the little piece that he has prepared for you. Your body sways to the rhythm and the sweet melody of his voice and Mark who kept his eyes on yours for the majority of the performance only made the moment even more special. You remember the way you hopped on stage, only wanting to be held in his arms and unable to let go. Eventually, you did and Mark got down on one knee with the ring that he had prepared for this moment. Reminiscing the time always made you chuckle and Mark pouted and groaned, knowing that you were lost in that time once more. 

A kiss lands on his lips, wiping the pout effectively from his lips, “It’s perfect because it was you, Markie.”

Renjun is pacing around the room, making sure the decorations are placed at their designated spots properly. He would circle the room countless times, making sure the flowers were fresh and presented in the way that he liked whilst his hands busied themselves with playing with the case of your ring; that he hopes will be on your fourth finger soon.

Mark massages his shoulder, relieving his body tension. Jaemin has his camera ready to take pictures whenever he can, making sure not to interfere with the small bubble that Renjun would create with you. Jisung, being more responsible than the older members most of the time stands still with a proud look on his face while Chenle gives him a thumbs up along with Jeno as well. Haechan is just as encouraging; Renjun’s threat to make sure he didn’t cause trouble playing in his head.

“I think everything is set up,” Jaemin says as he takes more photos of the venue to add for the memory book.

“You’re playing a very important role here,” Haechan comments, a hand resting on his hand, “Don’t mess it up.”

Jaemin replies with a slightly menacing smile, “Don’t mess with me, Lee Haechan.”

“To be honest, everything will go well as long as Renjun doesn’t go blank as soon as she walks in,” Chenle teases the older boy at how in love and speechless Renjun would be around you.

“True,” Mark gives him an encouraging thumbs up, “But you’ll be fine. She’ll be here any minute now actually.”

You received instructions through text from Jeno about meeting at a place, a dress code and a time “when you should open the door (don’t open it before!)”. The text is odd and when asking Renjun about it, the tips of his ears growing red from each passing second tell you that he does know what’s going on but it's cleer he wouldn't tell. You couldn’t ask any more questions after he pulled your face into his for a quick kiss, hushing you from any more questions. 

When you walked in, outfit in line with the theme of the room and matching with his, Renjun’s heart melted once more, falling in love with you all over again. You slowly walk towards your boyfriend, eyes flickering around the area and taking in the decorations as well as giving the boys a smile and greeting back. When Renjun is infront of you, he playfully bows, momentarily stumbling and losing his balance. You cup his cheeks when he lifts his head, kissing his lips, not bothering about the camera capturing it all. 

“W-Woah,” Renjun stumbles with his words, “That was nice.” 

“This whole place is nice, Junnie,” your boyfriend is relieved by your words, “You look beyond nice, by the way.”

Few minutes later, Renjun takes his position on the floor and Jaemin captures it the memories with his camera: the way it dawned on you that he's proposing, to when you finally sealed Renjun’s love and to the way Renjun takes your lips after. 

Jaemin smiles behind the camera, capturing all the moments to make a physical memory of it all.

Including getting extremely closer than he said he wouldn’t take a better picture of the band around your finger.

“So this is why you made me dress up?” Taking in the fragrance of the flowers that Jisung gave as a token of congratulations from the rest of the boys.

Renjun nods, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Jeno and his little smile that would reach his eyes. That was one of the first reasons why you fell for Jeno but to him, it’s his default expression whenever he sees, thinks of hears anything related to you. At the start of your relationship, he’s shy about receiving and giving you affection but you didn’t mind initiating the skinship, hugging and pecking his cheeks that would gradually lean towards his lips. He loves the skinship from you even in front of the rest of the boys who would tease him about it.

“She loves you,” Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at the goodbye kiss you gave him.

“I love her more,” he replies, his eyes filled with heart shapes.

As the relationship developed and you got a little place with him, Jeno would slowly be the one who initiated the skinship, hugging your waist to sleep and keeping you close to him whenever he could. Even outside, he would be the one to link your hands together first and show his love through the bouquet of flowers from the start of any date.

“These bouquets just keep growing bigger and bigger each time in my opinion,” twirling the gift around in your hand while the other is in Jeno’s.

Your boyfriend kissed your head, “It didn’t really change from the first one, bubs.” Content with the little giggle you gave as he watched the elevator take you both to the floor where he booked the last dinner where you would be his girlfriend and the last anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend; the start of a new title to the both of you.

His hand is stashed in his pocket where the ring is and he couldn’t help but gulp nervousnessly. The dinner went smoothly with the courses that Jeno pre-ordered and throughout the whole date, he loves the way you fill the atmosphere with the times that you didn’t spend together for the day, him updating you on his day too. He would never be tired of hearing your voice and the eye smile on him is a clear indication of that.

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” Jeno says as he kisses the back of your hand. He approaches one of the workers there, asking for the largest bouquet that he has ever given you in their back room where he dropped it off hours before the dinner. 

You’re preoccupied with taking pictures of the view from the windows that span from the floor to the ceiling but your boyfriend’s reaction comes into view and your phone screen rests on the table once again, ready to greet him. What you didn’t expect is when Jeno kneeled to one knee, arms outstretching the flowers he had with the opened box nestling between its petals.

“Jeno?” You asked him, tears beginning to fill up your eyes.

“I thought it would be nice to ask here, at this place. We always spent our anniversaries here and even today,” happy with how the corner of your lips rises with the event, “Will you marry me?”

It took you less than a millisecond to respond with a nod and a loud “Yes”. When Jeno stood from his position, your arms were immediately wrapped around his, hiding your lower face behind his shoulder.

“I thought you were shy.” 

“I am,” heat rising to his cheeks, “But I wanted to make this special for my very special girl.”

The Dreamies have never seen Haechan so nervous before. It bought them back to the times when he was crushing on you, blushing and being giddy all the time at the thought of you. They remember how Haechan was asking Jaemin for advice for the outfit on your first date that you prepared, and he rocked up with something really formal for a casual date, mixing up the place for the restaurant as a similar four-star restaurant. It would be something that not only you would tease him about, but when news spread to the Dreamies, they used it as the main thing to tease him about whenever he was being mischievous. It did die down quickly as after learning that the memory is very fond to you, the teasing wouldn’t work against him anymore.

The necklace that Haechan gifted you that day would be a reminder of the happiness that he has been giving you from the start of the journey and just like the sun pendant that reminds you of him, you love how just a glance of it knocks out all your worries that life may have weighed you down with. 

It all seemed to be a recent memory, but that was quite a long time ago for everyone who knew what happened. Now, Haechan is waiting for you to come back home after a night out with your friends and earlier in the day, the boy who was pacing around the room about what to wear to his first date with now is now pacing around the jewellery store on the perfect ring on your hand. 

He talked with the boys about his proposal plan to which the others have chipped in and helped him with. In the end, some of their advice is taken on board, but most of them made him grip his hair and made him say, “I’m just going to wing it.”

To which Mark replied with, “Sure, dude. If it doesn’t go ‘well’, it’s another thing to tease you about.” 

In all seriousness though, he wants the proposal to be perfect; just like how you are to him. He plops down on the bed, raising the box to the ceiling as he looks at the diamond he worked hard for. At the sound of the front door creaking and your voice greeting him from the other side of the house, he pockets the jewellery in his sweatpants, jumping from the cotton to greet you.

Your arms were outstretched and Haechan brings you to his embrace immediately, “How was your day?”

“So good,” your voice muffled with the hug, “We bought friendship rings,” pushing him away slightly to show him, “We thought about this so much but we thought it’s so pretty that we couldn’t not get it.”

You realised that as much as Haechan smiled at the decoration around your finger, it didn’t go unnoticed that he was playing with the hem of your jacket. An eyebrow perks up from that and you give him a kiss on his cheek, asking him what was wrong.

He took a deep breath, took the box from his pockets, got down to one knee and opened the jewellery to you for the first time, “Marry me,” he started, “Carry a part of me wherever you go too.”

Growing up, you were never able to have pets. Your dad is allergic to cats, one of the pets that you’ve always wanted, and your mum isn’t sure of how well the family would take care of another life due to how busy life is. You totally agree with her because pets should be well taken care of as much as any other kind of life form.

When you and Jaemin were financially ready to get a place for yourselves, one of his first promises was to get a pet that you wanted. Through motivation and a lot of saving, making sure that you were both ready to take care of another life and doing all the research on how to take care of cats, you and Jaemin finally adopted a pet to take care of. Jaemin is also thankful for the added company in the house as your work schedule wouldn’t match with his and that would mean that one of you would be alone in the house. Having another pet would make the house more lively and less lonely. With gradual time and more financial stability, you were able to adopt two more that you both love equally. 

“We should get another one,” you comment as Jaemin turns off the bedroom lights.

Your boyfriend hums at your thoughts, knowing exactly what you mean. He slips into the covers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to his warmth, “You really love taking care of others, don’t you?”

You close your eyes and hum a response, exhaling at the comfort of him next to you. “You know how I am.”

“I do, bubs. I do,” and he really does. With how your eyes light up whenever you take care of the people around you, always loving how you’re able to help out others whether it be him, your family, his family or the three cats that are sleeping soundly in the living room, it comes naturally that he’s thought of settling down with you permanently for the rest of his life; and having a little mini you or mini him later down the track. Similar talks have happened in the relationship and he thought that it would be perfect to make it happen soon.

No more words were said that night but Jaemin kissed a final kiss onto your soft lips and made a mental note to prepare for another life chapter with you. A few days later, he was able to speed through his work, being able to finish early to see the ring that he had been monitoring through the website. As soon as his eyes landed on it, he immediately thought of you and that’s how he made his final decision to buy it.

Thankfully, you had a later end to your work today and that gave Jaemin enough time to prepare a small, quick dinner as well as dressing the three cats into little outfits that would be fitting to wear in a wedding. 

“Come on, Luna,” he says as he struggles to get her paw in, “I don’t have a lot of time and I want to make mummy proud!” With this, the cat seemed to comply instantly and Jaemin squished the cat’s cheeks in thankfulness.

With each cat, he securely attached a note on their ventral side: Love, Marry, Me, and plans to release each cat one by one from the bedroom when you come in. Jaemin just made it in time, quickly scooping up all the cats into his arms, and rushing to hide in the bedroom.

“I’m home!” You routinely shouted, “Nana?” Confused about why the house was so quiet, especially when knowing that Jaemin finished work a long time ago. “Maybe he went out and forgot to tell me?” But that’s quickly proved wrong when pipping hot homemade food were neatly set out on the table. “Luna! Lucy! Luke!” Calling out to your three cats, wondering how none of them rushed to the door like they usually would.

Suddenly, the door to your room opens and you gasp, scared that an intruder is in your house but out comes all your three cats in different, cute attires. “Oh!” Kneeling on the floor to get a better look at them, “Did dadda do this? Hm?” Picking up Luna with his little white dress, rubbing your nose on hers. “What’s this?” Reading the ‘Love’ message on her stomach. You set Lucy down, picking up Lucy in a similar outfit, “Marry…” Your eyes widened, looking at a groom-like dressed Luke who sat patiently, licking the back of his exposed paw. Sure enough, the final and last note makes your jaw drop.

Jaemin emerges from your bedroom, smiling at how you look up at him in shock. He kneels on the floor, “I was supposed to let them out one by one but they got excited," he shrugs with a smile. "As much as I would love another pet,” he hinges the velvet box open, “If you would like to, I would also love a mini you or mini-me.” A hand rises to your gaped mouth, eyes staring at the cushioned ring. “But first, will you marry me?”

It seems that Luna, Lucy and Luke were on board with the idea, jumping on your lap and resting their little paws on your arms. Sure enough, you nod and verbally express your actions. The “Yes” is all Jaemin took to carefully place the three nosy cats away from you, sliding the new ring on your hand and pulling you into a kiss.

During ring shopping, Chenle would look around the places he could find and spend a lot of time window shopping on all the rings that were available in your size. He invited Jisung along on the journey and the younger boy was more stressed than him with how he was handling the situation. From the very first store, he already has about five rings that he’s thinking would be perfect for you. Jisung gave his input on each one which Chenle is thankful for, but did minimal in narrowing down the options. He even asked the other members, but it was still the same result. 

In the end, after visiting all the stores that he had listed, Chenle purchased about ten rings from each store. The employees are used to customers who are stuck between multiple choices as a symbol of love for their partner. But they weren’t prepared for Chenle to cross his arms, calmly exhale point to the rings and say, “I’ll just take them all.” 

Jisung tried to save his wallet but after deep thinking and checking the return policy, he decided to buy all the ones that his heart couldn't let go of. He'll figure out what to do with the rest of the diamonds later. Because of his massive purchase, on the day of the proposal, he looked calm and collected but inside, his heart was beating like he just ran a marathon. It was running so fast to the point that you asked him if there was something troubling him when you laid on his chest to sleep last night. Chenle shook his head firmly but from the way his finger trembled a little when he was patting your head, you couldn’t help but to question him once more.

“It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

After some time, your raised eyebrows relaxed, “Okay. Tell me if it weighs too much and whenever you’re ready, okay?”

And he’s so excited to tell you what is on his mind soon. The thought of finally being able to spoil the love of his life for the rest of his life excited him so much that with the boxes looking similar across the stores, he didn't realise that he also grabbed the one that he hadn't decided on the previous night. When you nodded to his proposal, too stunned and speechless from happiness to speak, the different ring to his expectations when he opened the velvet box made him let out the famous Pikachu face. 

“What?” You chuckled and tilted your head in confusion at his reaction, completely unaware of the boxes hidden under the bed. 

“N-Nothing,” well, it looks like he'll explain later but with the happiness written on your face and the kisses you showered him with, maybe he'll just gift the rest of the spares to you.

“Don't be so nervous,” a hit lands on the side of Jisung’s arm from Chenle, “She'll love this.”

In the early stages of dating, you were always sharing your date plans with him, planning most of them. You made sure Jisung didn’t mind them because being in a relationship isn’t only about one person. Jisung loves the way you talk enthusiastically about all the places you want to go with him and all the activities that you want to do with him. Jisung would give you that adorable gummy smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons whenever he did so. Those small event plans became more detailed, expanding into different topics naturally such as proposals, weddings and honeymoon places and Jisung being in love with everything about you, would mentally take notes of what you love for each occasion.

“I promise,” Jisung stops your words for a second, “We will do them all together.”

There was a time he was caught writing it all down on his phone to which Chenle teased him endlessly, the other Dreamies joining along at their youngest being in love. It’s not that he will forget the things that make you happy, he just wants to be able to see it all so that he can plan the perfect proposal. They promised to help him with every step when he was ready. 

Today is that day.

Jaemin tells him that the hinge of the engagement ring’s box would eventually break with how much he’s fiddling with it but it’s the only way he could distract his nervousness.

“Maybe you should recite your speech once more,” Jeno clears his throat, opening the paper in his hand.

“Jeno loves Jisung, guys. Look at him,” Haechan teased his same-aged friend. His bear-like friend would chase him around the room and Jisung would be shouting at the two to be aware of the decorations around the room.

You came in through the chaos, the door opening inwards where Haechan stops abruptly to avoid his face smashing against the wood and Jeno back hugged him as a result of that. You peeked behind the door, confused but smiling at the two. Before you could question what was going on, Renjun kicked Haechan out the door and welcomed you in.

“He’s not prepared for this,” pointing at your boyfriend who hides behind Jaemin. “Stay here while I talk to Haechan for ruining this moment.”

But the moment wasn’t ruined at all because just looking at how your Pinterest board came into life and the boys slowly giving Jisung the spotlight while you walked down towards him, everything is indeed beautiful and perfect.

“Oh wow,” you breathed out, “It's like my Pinterest came to life.”

Hearing that is the biggest compliment to Jisung who spent hours analysing your saved folders of wedding venue inspirations, trying to find a consistent theme. He gifted the teddy bear on his hand to you, pecking your lips and pulling away with a deep red blush across his cheeks. He readies himself to his rehearsed position after, “Will you marry…me?” Endeared by the way you hide your face behind the teddy bear. Yet, your answer is clear without your words.

Just like how he gives you a kiss on the lips with a “Yes” from you and the silver band around your finger that sealed your happily ever after.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

multigroup series (and the sort!!) ♡

☂ - angst | ♡ - fluff | ➳ - hurt/comfort | ⋆⁺₊ - suggestive | ʚ/ɞ - external/internal challenges | personal favourite

Multigroup

[☂/♡/➳ʚ/ɞ] especially to you... | introduction 🤍 masterlist

THE BOYZ

[☂/♡/➳ʚ/ɞ] that's him, that's just who he is | introduction 🤍 masterlist

NCT DREAM

generating...

RIIZE

generating...

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz full masterlist 🤍 nct dream masterlist 🤍 riize masterlist 🤍

nct dream masterlist ♡

☂ - angst | ♡ - fluff | ➳ - hurt/comfort | ⋆⁺₊ - suggestive | ʚ/ɞ - external/internal challenges | personal favourite

OT7

[~4.3k ♡] proposing to you

Mark Lee

generating...

Huang Renjun

[~700 ☂ ♡ ➳ ʚ ɞ] [21:15]

Lee Jeno

generating...

Lee Donghyuck | Haechan

[~1.6k ♡ ⋆⁺₊] [08:52]

Na Jaemin

[~1.6k ☂ (slight ♡) ɞ] yesterday's petal [~2.5k ☂ ♡ ➳] [01:34] [~1k ♡] it's so nice to be loved by you

Zhong Chenle

generating...

Park Jisung

generating...

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 riize masterlist 🤍 other masterlist

Flipped

pairing; Chenle x reader

genre; enemies to lovers au, ‘American high school’ au, angst, fluff

word count; 10.8k

summary; ‘The moment you laid eyes on Zhong Chenle, you had flipped.’ You had known that you were in love with Chenle, your next door neighbor, since you were 7 years old. Chenle wanted nothing to do with you. Until of course, ten years later he starts to realize that perhaps there’s more to you that meets the eye, unluckily just as you began to realize, perhaps Chenle was less than you had chalked him up to be.

warnings; insensitive language regarding illness, death, female reader, heavily inspired by the movie flipped, some scenes are near word for word from the movie, so credits to the movie for those parts, although parts of the main narrative differ, as well as scenes. A large majority of the characters are not similar to their real life counterpart. 

tag list; @sunflowerhae​ @byunbaekby​​ @mikasrecs​(if you asked to be on the tag list and i didn’t tag you, i’m very sorry, i was terrible at tracking who was on it cause im an idiot)

a/n; Started making it. Had a breakdown. Bon Appetit.

It all began in the Summer before second grade. In Zhong Chenle’s eyes, it was the beginning of a decade of strategic avoidance, awkward encounters, and a lifetime worth of what he deemed to be, discomfort.

For you, it was true love.

The moment you laid eyes on Zhong Chenle, you had flipped. It was something in those eyes, those dazzling brown eyes which bore into you. Or maybe it was something about his smile. There was something about him which made you realize that at 7 years old, you had met your soul mate. His family had just moved into your neighborhood, a long cul-de-sac of identical, modern two-story houses, the majority of which had the same identical clean cut lawns and typical nuclear well off family who owned the house and prided themselves on how their petunias were better than the house across the streets. That was except for yours, of course. Deemed the ‘embarrassment of the neighborhood,’ the yellow paint on your house was flaking off, the grass dry and grey and the fence encasing the yard, which had at one point been white was now a dull grey, not to mention falling apart in some places. This was attributed to the fact that your father simply did not have the time. As a painter, he had to work extra hard to provide for his family, especially considering your mother’s situation.

It was a hot summer’s day, the day Chenle moved in. You could remember the feeling of the sun on your face as you basked in its warmth, the pavement on which you sat almost boiling as the moving van pulled up to the house opposite yours. You had recalled that your father had told you to always be kind and helpful, which is why you had thought it appropriate to skip across the road to the nice looking family and offer a helping hand.

Little did you know, your help was unwanted. Chenle remembered watching the girl skip – skip? As if anyone had done that since kindergarten – from the odd-looking house across the way and when she confidently stated,

“Hi, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Need any help?” He looked to his father for confirmation that this girl was strange. He noticed the judgmental look which was written on his father’s face as he surveyed the girl with the messy hair and grubby clothes, no doubt from playing in the unpleasant yard which she came from that juxtaposed with their clean, green yard. He recognized the exact moment that his father deemed them better than her, a switch in his face where he knew where she stood on the social ladder. Acting according, he too looked at the girl with disdain.

“There’s some valuable things in those boxes. Don’t touch them.” His father had scolded as you reached for one of the boxes that were stacked on their lawn.

“What about this one?” You suggested, reaching for another one. This was the moment that Chenle had realized that this girl could not take a hint. His father had pushed the box away with his foot before you could even touch it.

“Maybe you should run home? Your moms probably worried about you.” He sneered, staring down his nose on you. Resilient, you stared back.

“My dad knows I’m here.” You had replied simply, before turning to Chenle.

“Want to push one together?” You asked, pointing at one of the heavier ones. Chenle scrunched his face up at you, looking to his father for answers.

“I think your mom wants your help in the house, Chenle.” His dad had replied, not so subtly winking at him, as if to say, ‘escape from the crazy girl while you can.’

 He seized the opportunity, turning on his heel and running towards the house, where his mother stood in the doorway, when the most ridiculous thing happened. Not only did (Y/N) (Y/L/N) follow him, but you grabbed his hand.

“Oh, hello! I see you’ve met my son.” His mother had called out, a small smile growing on her face as she observed the sight of the two 7-year olds connected by their hands.

Chenle, having no clue how to escape the situation, did the most mature thing a 7-year-old boy could do. He hid behind his mother.

Keep reading

[12:32 am]

your phone pings as you receive a new text message.

[lele 🐬]: hypothetically, if i were to show up at your house with ice cream, what would you say

you shake your head and smile, kicking your legs over the bed to sit up straight while you type back a response.

[(name) 💕]: don’t tell me you drove ALL THE WAY HERE

[lele 🐬]: i said HYPOTHETICALLY

[(name) 💕]: hhhhhhh

[lele 🐬]: and you still haven’t answered my question

[(name) 💕]: hmm

[(name) 💕]: well first i would glare at you because you should be asleep

[lele 🐬]: :(

[(name) 💕]: and second i would yell at you for driving all the way here

[lele 🐬]: :((

[(name) 💕]: but third i would hug you and tell you to come in because it’s cold outside

[lele 🐬]: :D

[(name) 💕]: hypothetically of course

[(name) 💕]: why do you ask

as if on cue, the doorbell rings. you click your phone off and run to the front door, knowing who will be on the other side.

boyfriend!chenle stands a few feet away, his signature grin visible under the lights on your doorstep.

“surprise!” he says, holding up a plastic bag that has something with a definitive shape inside.

“is today some sort of special day?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your lips quirk up in a smile.

“it’s wednesday,” he adds optimistically, and he shrugs as if to say, that’s it.

“what’s in there?” your gaze moves to the plastic bag, the straps now twisting around his fingers.

“oh, i got some stuff for us!” chenle stands where he is, and you start to reach for the bag but he pulls his arm back at the last second. “ah-ah. nope.”

you drop your outstretched hand to your side, giving him a look that reads, seriously?

“you gotta pay me,” he says in a sing-song voice. “pay first and then i’ll give it to you.”

“is inviting you into my house not enough?”

“no.” he then turns his head to the side, light reflecting off of the apples of his cheeks as he smiles. “i only accept payment in the form of kisses.”

standing on your tiptoes on the spiky welcome mat, you hold his shoulders to balance as you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek. chenle, however, quickly turns his head and finds your lips with his, humming as he notices that you’re wearing the cherry lip balm he got you for your birthday.

“lele — !” you pull away and peck his face, just above the dimples that are on full display. “i thought you meant on the cheek!”

“well, i never specified what kind of kiss.” he takes off his shoes before entering your house, and you don’t miss his smug expression as he steps inside.

you smile. of course it wouldn’t be that simple.

chenle walks in and sets the bag on your counter, pretending to be shocked when you ask about it again. “oh, you want me to open it? you’re gonna have to give me a couple more kisses, then.”

you sigh, impatient but amused. “how many?”

“three.”

“where?”

“hmm...” he then taps his nose. “i want one here.” he taps his cheek. “and one here. and one —” he places his finger just shy of the corner of his lips — “right here.” he raises an eyebrow at you, daring you to accept the challenge.

you roll your eyes but comply, holding his head in your hands as you kiss his nose, his cheek, and finally the corner of his —

chenle’s arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer as you knowingly fall for his trap. he ignores your red-flushed face, and he doesn’t need to see your ears to know that they’re already burning from your second kiss of the night. this one lasts longer than the first, possibly because it didn’t take you by surprise.

you laugh when he steps back, pretending to complain that he made you miss the final spot, and an unapologetic smirk crosses his face.

“whoops,” he says, his voice void of any regret. “my bad.“

“you know,” you say, “if you wanted to come over you could have just asked. you didn’t need to get anything.”

“mmhm.“

“so how come you bought ice cream at midnight?“

“huh?” he stares at you, confused.

“... why did you buy a carton of ice cream?”

“what? i didn’t buy a carton of ice cream.” you look at him quizzically and he continues. “i bought —” he pulls the sides of the plastic bag down to reveal its contents — “two cartons of ice cream.”

[6:18 pm]

“haechan says i’m going to be his father-in-law,” chenle groans, shutting the door with his foot. the tall stack of cardboard boxes in his arms wobbles precariously, the objects inside rattling with the distinct sound of plastic hitting plastic.

you look up as daegal bounds out of your lap to greet your best friend. “haechan what? oh, do you need help with that?” you gesture to the stack in his arms and stand up, prepared to spot him if needed.

“nah, i’m good—” he’s interrupted by a poorly-timed box that falls from the top onto the floor, the contents (a few colorful bouncy balls and a stuffed lion toy) spilling out. daegal pounces on the lion, which is practically the same size as her, and you laugh, taking the top three boxes off of chenle’s hands.

“sure you are. what was that about haechan earlier?”

he sets the things down before collapsing onto the couch, sighing. “he says he wants to marry daegal. and i said no.”

“i see. so you, being daegal’s father, disapprove?” you ask, pulling the stuffed animal towards you. the dog continues to tug at the lion’s foot, and you smile. chenle had brought her home almost two weeks ago, and she’s already won over practically everyone’s heart at first sight (you included).

“i do disapprove,” says chenle, sniffing. “i don’t want haechan as a son-in-law.”

“must be hard being a pretty single lady these days,” you muse. “too many guys going after you.” daegal hops back into your lap, rubbing her face against your leg. over the past few days, she’s really warmed up to you, even starting to prefer your presence to mark’s (but he doesn’t like to admit it since he’s still bitter she ran into your arms instead of his yesterday).

“yeah, well, it seems to have worked out alright for you,” chenle mumbles.

your head whips up and you lock eyes with your best friend, who is only now beginning to realize he said that out loud. “what?”

“um, nothing.”

your heartbeat pounds in your ears. “you think i’m pretty?”

“w-well yeah...” chenle rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, wishing that he’d kept his thoughts to himself. what had originally started out as a small crush, a tiny “i like you” barely visible in his blushing cheeks, had over the years evolved into a vegas-worthy street sign with the same words flashing above his head. he thought he had it perfectly under control, and now he just blew it.

from your lap, daegal stares up at him, head tilted to the side, almost daring him to make the jump. you’re looking at him as well, your hand frozen behind the dog’s ears.

“you’re always pretty,” chenle blurts out, instantly bringing his arms up to hide his face. “and um, i like you.” he says it without thinking, his cheeks flooding with red regret. him and his big mouth, constantly getting him into trouble—

“i like you, too.” you say it quietly, like a secret meant to be kept between best friends, but you say it like you mean it. now chenle’s head is spinning, his braincells working overtime. what did you say?

“hey.” you wave a hand in front of his face, smiling softly in reassurance. “you alright?”

“y-yeah?” he blinks, coming to his senses when you gently place daegal in his lap. “yeah, i’m good.”

“um, you still need help with these?” you nudge a box with your foot, momentarily having forgotten the task that you were supposed to be doing.

“oh. oh right.” he slowly lifts the dog up and onto the floor, taking great care not to step on her, before making his way over to the boxes.

you glance one of them, which contains several pillows and yet another stuffed plushie. “daegal’s going to be so spoiled,” you say, “but i guess we can never fault her for being cute.”

chenle allows his hand to brush against yours, hesitantly locking both of your pinkies together.

“yeah, well, she’s not the only one.”

chenle au recos

camera lens genre - fluff | idol!au word count | 3.2k words when she loved me genre - fluff | angst word count | 24.2k words 8:17 am genre - fluff word count | 0.3k words how to self - sabotage: a bulletproof guide by zhong chenle genre - fluff | humor word count | 10.8k words

bf!chenle x reader

[5:47pm] ࿐

“baby!!! awww i missed you so much!!!” you gasped, running in for a hug.

“i missed you too!!!” chenle held his arms out, waiting for you to run into his embrace…until he was pushed aside, budged by your shoulder as you ran right passed him.

“daegal!!! you cutie!!! did you miss me???” you smothered daegal in kisses, holding her up to your face.

chenle stood there and watched, feeling defeated.

[9.56AM] barista!chenle sees you walk through the doors of the cafe he works at,looking as beautiful as ever.you did come there everyday,and everyday he’d been blown away by your beauty.he was too busy staring at you until he forgot to make a customer’s drink.but maybe after that,he could sneak in a free slice of cake for you.