a/n; rich!chan just come take me shopping insteaduhh👀omgee👀 — this is the start of a series,, if you like nct jeno stick around
cw: super mild angst, breakup
summary: you’re too young to be wasting time like this. getting money thrown at you is fun as hell but like… so are ridiculously long conversations that actually mean something
masterlist
“do you think being a rich asshole is fun?”
you smirked at jihyo’s out of pocket comment. “absolutely. it’s like nothing even matters. just fuck bitches, get money… out of your trust fund.”
puffing air out of her cheeks, jihyo furrows her brows at you, “sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
“uh, no.” you scoffed. “i just have, uh, very up close examples. i don’t know.”
jihyo lifted her head from your shoulder to turn and fully face you. “are you talking about chris?” she stared at you wide-eyed.
before you could even fully register what she said, you were shaking your head at her. you turned back to her, “never that.”
“mm, okay. ‘cus that’s a rich asshole if i’ve ever seen one. and living where we live, i’ve seen plenty.”
“don’t do him, ji.” your pupils shifted to the left of her for a split second, “just turn around, there’s my example.”
jihyo turned her head only to immediately groan at the sight of your boyfriend and his friend hyunjin approaching where you were sat on the park. she turned back to you.
“oh. i get it now. bye!”
she swiftly got up off the grass, grabbing her purse and starting to walk towards her car.
“wait— jihyo! we were hanging out!”
she yelled back, “get your boyfriend to hang out with you.” with a teasing expression.
you sighed, turning around only to be scared out of your skin by chan who was now right in front of you. “holy shit—“
he cut you off your curse with a kiss to your lips, “hi, princess. i thought i was taking you and jihyo to the mall… i saw her walk away.”
your eyes just flicked from his to hyunjin, “hyunjin! nice surprise.” his ass was not invited.
“you seem happy to see me.”
“i’m not. and neither was my friend.” you looked back to your man, “jihyo left because she doesn’t like being hit on by your pervy friends.” after childishly sticking your tongue out at hyunjin, you laced your fingers between chan’s, “should we go?”
⋆
“baby, does this look pretty?” you held a lace trim vest against your torso, “with the skirt?”
chan looked up from his phone for maybe like .5 seconds, “mhm. how much, darling?”
“you didn’t even look.”
he looked back up at you. “i said it’s nice, y/n.” he furrowed his brows in a smile at you before just going back to scrolling.
“well, it’s $20.” you scanned his face for any reaction. shock? confusion? ‘for a vest?’ but he did nothing except raise his brows in agreement.
dating chris was truly a bittersweet experience. though he continually assured you that he wanted to give you the world and it seemed that he was proud to be with you. sometimes it felt like that was it. that despite how cliche the saying was; he did just like the idea of you, and not you truly.
you ( chan ) spent upwards of $500 that day. way more than the usual little ‘let me spoil you’ shopping sprees. not that he noticed, but it was significant to you. because this was the last time.
“channie…” you called out to him from the passenger seat, while he tried to squeeze your shopping bags into the tiny trunk of his audi coupe.
he slumped into the driver’s seat, and turned to you, beaming, “anything you need.”
“i lowkey need us to break up.”
chan’s eyes widened, “uh.. hah. what do you mean.”
“i don’t think we should be together anymore, chris.” your eyes welled up with tears, “i’m getting the feeling you just don’t care anymore. we haven’t had a truly meaningful date in like 2 months, you hardly listen when i talk—“
“i listen when you talk!”
“you just interrupted me! how is that listening when i talk?” you brought your forefinger and thumb up to the bridge of your nose, “you hardly listen when i talk, and when you do, you’re apathetic. i can’t deal with it, right now.”
he furrowed his brows at you, unable to find the words.
“chan, you just like the idea of me..”
right.
“oh, don’t give me that bullshit. you watch too much tiktok.”
“yeah, but i’m deadass! you take me round your friends and you’re all over me and then we get alone and it’s fucking bland. it feels like i’m a trophy. we don’t converse.”
looking down at his lap and gripping the wheel, chan sighed, “yeah, well, a lot of girls would die to be in your position. fyi.”
you gave him an incredulous look. “fuck you. just take me home.”
⋆
when you arrived outside of your parents house, chan acted sugary sweet. the regret was definitely settling in for him.
he carried all 7 of your bags into the house, and up to your room, including your purse — which didn’t make much of a difference to the weight, since all you carried was your phone and lipgloss.
“y/n,” chan leaned himself up against your doorframe, “i… feel like we should talk about this a little more. what i said in the car— i didn’t mean for it to come off like that.”
“i know, but i also know what you meant.” you slumped down onto the edge of your bed, gently kicking around at the shopping bags by your feet.
he looked at the floor. regardless of what he meant, he was still letting you know that you were lucky to even be paraded around and spoiled by him; why ask for more?
“y/n.”
“as much as i’m grateful for how kind you are, and how much you treat me, i need a relationship built on connection and romance. mutual interest in eachother’s lives.
“did i not give you that?”
you shrugged. “you seem so interested in your own country club, yacht trip, house party, golf outings, little life, that you can’t care about what i have going on.”
“how have i given that impression..?”
“what were we talking about today?”
“i don’t know—“
“exactly!”
“let me finish!” chan held up his hand, “when in the day?”
“at the store, in hollister today, i was telling you something about school.”
chan screwed his eyes shut, willing to the heavens that they would take him back in time to this conversation. this argument you were having only brought to light that he really wasn’t listening to you. just watching and enjoying you.
“i don’t know, babe. i’m sorry.”
maybe he really was a little bit shallow.
you brought your hand up to your face, “i’m just tired of feeling like that. it’s nice to feel like someone gives a fuck about you.”
“i give a fuck.”
“you don’t act like it.” you blinked a tear that rolled down your face.
with an exasperated sigh, chan ran his fingers through his hair. “i don’t know what to say.”
“you don’t have to. i think this is just it. it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation, anyway.”
“that’s unfortunately true.” he gave you a sad smile.
“i’m sorry i couldn’t be the man you deserved. i focused to much on the wrong shit, i guess.”
you wiped a stray tear from your cheek, “what can be done at this point.”
“i love you, come here.” he opened his arms out and you went to fall into them. he kissed the top of your head, resting his chin there. “i will miss you... i’m sure we can work it out some day, darling.” he whispered.
a/n; thank you to the precious anon who gave me the urge & motivation to start an entire series
The man in front of you was stunning. Gorgeous, really. He seemed nice, and made you laugh quite a bit.
With his pretty blue eyes and charming smile, his blonde hair faintly falling into his eyes.
You had went to the bar to keep your mind off things after a long day, one where you'd thought too much for your own head and felt too much for your poor heart–and it helped, between the laughs, stupid dances, flirts and many drinks. For a little while, at least, it did.
So, you didn't really know what it was. Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing in your ears. Or maybe the way he laughed a bit too much like him, head thrown back and shoulders hunched slightly, the corner of his eyes crinkling. Maybe it was just late, and you were getting a bit tired.
Maybe it was a mix of all those things, combined with the song that started playing from the speakers. The song from a group you knew just a little too well. Especially one of the members.
Whatever it was, his eyes started looking a little too brown, his hair a little too black, his cheeks a little too creased with dimples when he laughed.
And you found your smile becoming... more genuine. You laughed at something stupid he said, shaking your head in a way so fond you'd forgotten you could even do that. "Oh my god, shut up, Chan," you chuckled, gently smacking his arm.
He smirked and raised a brow. "Chan? Damn, is that your boyfriend or something? Didn't know I was flirting with someone taken," said the blonde guy with blue eyes and no dimples you were talking to.
"Huh?" You asked, a little hazy, the smile still gracing your lips.
"You called me Chan," chuckled the man, tilting his head. "Don't know who that is, but it's definitely not me, sweets."
You blinked a few times.
Oh.
Right.
Chan had moved away years ago–how could you even forget that? Yeah, you were drunk, but still. You should know that.
You'd started dating in middle school, all the way to his departure. And when he moved all the way to Korea to become an idol, you kept in touch. Stayed together. Swore that you'd love eachother no matter what.
And it lasted, for about a year. Then, it got... weird. Messages got rarer and rarer, until they simply stopped. You knew it'd happen, in the very back of your mind–being an idol meant he'd get busy, but it still hurt.
Even years later, when you'd see him on your screen, singing his life out on stage, making crowds go wild like there was no tomorrow. His dimples, his eyes, his smile, his laugh, his voice, his lips–
"Hey! You listening to me?" Asked the stranger, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. "You've been ignoring me for, like, five whole minutes. If not ten. I'm too drunk to know right now," he chuckled.
You shook your head. "Yeah, no. Uh, sorry. Not my boyfriend. I'm single. You, uh, just look alike," you said, chuckling. Liar.
Maybe Chan had forgotten about you by now. He probably did, since his current life was... hard to keep up with, to say the least. There was no use watering a dead flower.
There was no use longing for a name that didn't remember yours.
So instead, you kept laughing. Flirting. Drinking. Hoping maybe, just maybe, enough alcohol would finally fill up that hole in your heart. Hoping that the burning in your throat would maybe warm you up enough to feel good.
A/N: After litteraly months, i finally posted part 2 of this short story TT @rosinbutnotforaviola I'm so sorry it's not great, I pinky promise to work soon on pt 3 if you want it!
Tags: Slight angst, drunk!reader, no pronouns used but "missy" is said once, idol!chan, alcohol, ex!reader, ex!chan, one mention of hooking up
You didn't remember how you ended in Sean's--the blondie's--bed. You mind was a blur of alcohol, dancing, and seeing his face absolutely everywhere. The more drunk you got, the more you thought he was here.
First, you saw him in the guy with the same nose and face shape, then it was the guy with brown eyes, then the one with just a similar haircut.
You didn't know what it was that made you miss him this much tonight. Wether it was the long day you'd spent, the song that played on the speakers back in the club. Maybe a mix of everything.
Who knew.
Whatever it was, the guy in your bed, the guy you were kissing just ten seconds ago, pulled away slightly and held your arms.
"Hey, you okay? I mean, like, yeah, I'm drunk, but not drunk enough to miss the way you're..." he motioned to your face awkwardly.
You furrowed your brows. "What? I'm what?"
"You're kissing me like you wanna kiss someone else."
"What..?" you mumbled. "No, no, you're hot, and- and you're fun. I swear."
Your comment made him pause then huff out a laugh. Then snort. Then straight up laugh with his whole chest. "You- bhwahaha! Yeah, no, I know I am, missy. But I also know what it feels like to miss someone when you're drunk."
You blinked. Had you been this obvious all along?
"Let me guess. It's that Chris, or uh... Chad... Well, the name you called me earlier-"
"Chan," you corrected immediately, almost by reflex. Old habits die hard, it seems.
He smiled faintly. "Yeah. That guy."
The nod you gave was so small that Sean thought he imagined it for a second. "Wanna tell me about him? If it makes you feel any better, I'm probably too drunk to remember tomorrow, and you're too drunk to hide how much his name sounds like music to you anyway.
"Well... He was just- ugh. He was cute and nice and we dated for like, years, and he had this dream and i always told him to follow it, and when he finally did it, he had to move to korea and we promisde we'd always love eachother but he broke our promise and-"
"Did he?"
"Now we don't talk an- what?"
"Did he break his promise?" Sean asked, tilting his head, the blonde hair falling in his eyes like a movie star. "I mean, you certainly didn't."
You whined. "Speak normally, I'm too drunk to understand hidden messages."
He chuckled. "You promised to love eachother. And, from what I'm hearing, it's not like you ever stopped. What makes you so sure he did?"
"We... He didn't... He doesn't have the time for love. Or, if he does, it won't be with someone like me. I just know it. He's amazing and the best guy I ever met and... And I'm just me."
You spent the whole night and a part of the morning talking about him.
You cried and you were sad and you were mad... Both at him and at yourself.
"I know we were kids, it feels like I'm missing a stranger, but I just... Is it selfish that I'm so angry he finally lived his dream?"
"You're angry he's living his dream, and you're not a part of that. It's not selfish, sweets. I promise you."
