Yixing is cuddly with you anyway, but especially so during your pregnancy. There’s an indescribable feeling that makes him happy knowing that he doesn’t just get to cuddle you these days, but also cuddle up to your baby with you too.
B ⇴ BUMP
He always tried to be as close to your bump as he possibly could to try and form a close bond with them before they were born. Yixing would talk to your bump a lot to familiarise your baby with the sound of his voice, and always keep his hands around your bump so that your baby felt nice and cosy and more importantly, protected, by him.
C ⇴ CRAVINGS
At times Yixing definitely thought you’d lost your mind when it came to your cravings, he often couldn’t understand the appeal to many of the foods that you wanted. Still, he always made sure to get you what you wanted, even if sometimes he left you waiting a little too long because he had a late night at work to complete first.
D ⇴ DUE DATE
His schedule was cleared completely as the final few days before your due date came around, in fact, Yixing barely ever left you out of his sight. It was weird for you both to have him home for so long when he usually spent so much of his time away, and with the added stress of knowing your baby was due to arrive any day, it certainly led to a few tense moments between the two of you as you got prepared.
E ⇴ EMOTIONS
Yixing tended to only ever let his emotions get the better of him when he was away from you, preferably alone. He hated being anything other than strong in front of you, and so he’d often smile through the emotional times. Once he was alone, whether it was nerves, excitement, or something in between, he’d finally let his mouth smile or drop, giving himself some time to compose himself before returning to you.
F ⇴ FAMILY
Both of your families were more than happy to work around the two of you when it came to your pregnancy. If you wanted them away, they’d stay away, but the second you asked for help or suggested that they came and visited you both, they’d be there as soon as possible. Your pregnancy highlighted how well you both got on with your own families, as well as bonding closely with each other’s family too.
G ⇴ GENDER
There was no way Yixing would wait until the end of your pregnancy to find out what you were happening. The sonographer didn’t even have time to finish asking the question as to whether you both wanted to find out what you were having before Yixing’s head started nodding, desperate to find out the answer.
H ⇴ HEARTBEAT
Yixing always found a rhythm whenever you listened to the beat of your baby’s heart, whilst to you it just sounded like a pattern of irregular noises, somehow Yixing would always be able to find something. As he listened, his hand would often tap against the side of your bump as he came up with something.
I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”
He would remind you almost all the time that he loved you, through the good moments and the bad. Yixing had never been afraid of perhaps telling you that he loved you too much, and so when you were having a good day, a bad day, or a bit of a neutral day too, he’d always make sure to remind you how much he loved you.
J ⇴ JEALOUSY
Whilst Yixing didn’t tend to get jealous at all, he had a few moments whenever someone took his place at home because he was busy at work. Even though it was no one’s fault, he couldn’t help but feel bitter that someone else was with you and taking care of you both. His messages would often be snappier, and phone calls a bit blunter with you until he was able to get back home and finally take his rightful spot again.
K ⇴ KICKS
When the kicks stop, Yixing hates it, he loves trying to coerce your baby into kicking some more. He’ll run his hands across your bump to try and get your baby to wriggle a little more, and if he’s particularly desperate, then he’ll poke gently against your sides to try and encourage your baby to give him another little sign.
L ⇴ LABOUR
Cool, calm and collected perfectly described Yixing throughout the entirety of your labour. He was used to intense and pressuring situations, so he knew exactly what to do to support you and encourage you. Whilst he definitely felt the emotion of the situation too, as with everything throughout your pregnancy, he didn’t let any of that get to him until your baby had safely arrived and you were able to relax.
M ⇴ MORNING SICKNESS
Yixing always made sure to support you every morning throughout your time with morning sickness, even if that meant pushing work back some mornings. It didn’t phase him at all whenever you were sick, his only focus was on reassuring you and reminding you that things would get easier with a bit more time.
N ⇴ NURSERY
The nursery the two of you created was incredibly homely for your little arrival, the two of you wanted somewhere cosy, nothing too fancy or too much of a statement made, subtle was perfect for the room.
O ⇴ OBSESSION
He was obsessed with your smile, although he knew you had plenty of times when you were down too, nothing made Yixing happier than knowing you were having a good day and feeling confident within yourself.
P ⇴ POST BIRTH
After your labour, Yixing was incredibly protective of you both for a while, he barely let you lift a finger unless it was to give your baby a cuddle. He had the time to be at home, and so Yixing was determined to do everything possible to make recovery easier for you whilst also helping your baby settle in too.
Q ⇴ QUESTIONS
He could read you like a book, and so when you were busy, Yixing would always ask if you needed to rest or a helping hand. When your head shook, he knew you better, so the next time, he’d tell you to rest rather than being polite and asking you.
R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS
Yixing would often come home after a day out with bags of baby items that he’d found on his adventures. Even sometimes when he was working abroad, half of his suitcase would end up being filled with baby items which he found far too adorable to ever be able to say no when he saw them in the shops.
S ⇴ SCANS
He would always carry a scan photo with him after you were able to receive your first scan. His wallet was full of backtracked scans that kept getting updated, so whenever he opened it up, he could take a good look at the scan, and pick himself up if he was having a bit of a tough or long day away from you.
T ⇴ TEST
Yixing was on the road when you found out you were pregnant, for too long to wait until he was home, and so you sent him a picture of your positive pregnancy test, unsurprised when your phone rang a few moments later.
U ⇴ ULTRASOUND
He always tried his hardest to be at all your appointments, but if he missed one, then he would definitely make it up to you.
V ⇴ VISITS
The two of you stayed in your own little bubble of three for a few days before inviting anyone round. Your families both understood that the two of you wanted to adjust, but as soon as you sent the text, they were round in a flash.
W ⇴ WAITING
Whenever you got excited, Yixing got excited, he enjoyed basking in the moments of impatience with you rather than all alone.
X ⇴ XXXX
If he came home to see you fast asleep, Yixing would often sit beside your bump for a while and press light kisses against it, encouraging your baby to settle so that you could get as much sleep in you as you possibly could.
Y ⇴ YOU
You were his team-mate, the two of you were in the whole adventure together, side by side.
Z ⇴ ZZZ
Yixing knew that sleep was one of the most important parts of pregnancy, and so he always made sure to try and do whatever he could to help you sleep at night, even some nights that came at the expense of his own sleep.
It didn’t really matter to him that you were so small but he loved you nonetheless and nothing was going to change that. He loved hugging you close and giving you back hugs, resting his head on top of yours. He especially loved cuddling with you so he could wrap his whole body against you.
BAEKHYUN: “You are adorable.”
He loved that you were shorter than him. He also loved teasing you about it but you knew he did it out of love. It didn’t really bother you when he did it but he knew you hated it when other people did it so he made sure not to do it in public or around the members.
CHANYEOL: “I just want to squeeze you.”
He absolutely adored the fact that you were smaller than him and wasn’t afraid to show it. Whenever you were close, he would wrap his arms around you or place you one his lap. He loved that you were so small and everyone knew it but they also knew not to tease you as he was very protective.
KAI: “How can someone be so cute?”
He couldn’t seem to wrap his head around how small you were but he loved it and wasn’t afraid to admire you. You’d often find him just staring at you when you were together but you weren’t so shy about it anymore. He loved you and how small you were and always made sure to remind you that it wasn’t a bad thing but rather something to embrace.
Scenario: piano instructor!au
Pairing: Lay x (gender neutral) reader
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: strict!yixing
Summary: You’re on the verge of achieving your dream of becoming a concert pianist, but your new instructor and you don’t exactly see eye to eye...
next part >>
You tapped your foot impatiently as your train slowed, taking far too long, as it pulled into the subway station. Checking the time on your phone, you felt the first bursts of panic. Shit. You could have sworn you were two minutes early, not late, but there it was, the numbers already spelling 5:00 PM.
It felt like hours before the train finally halted and the doors hissed open, and you immediately pushed in with the crowd to exit onto the platform, making sure your bag was tucked tight against your body to keep it from getting lost in the rush. That had happened before, and only a week away from your debut concert, you couldn’t afford for it to happen again.
Neither could you afford to be late. You had a limited number of hours left with your instructor, and you needed every second you could get.
With that in mind, you picked up your pace, facing the wind that was pushing against you. Moving through both the crowd and the pre-storm gale was difficult. The wind peeled your hat from its already precarious position on your head and you stopped, muttering a few choice words, whirling around to chase after it. A flush built across your face as you weaved through the crowded footpath, excusing yourself to every other person.
Your fingers closed around its brim a few feet further away, and you let out a frustrated breath, standing up again.
Except in doing so, you slammed into someone’s chest. And felt something burning hot go spilling across both of you.
“I’m so sorry-” You cut yourself off mid-sentence when you looked up and saw the person you had bumped into staring at you with the most incredulous glare. His face was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it and currently, other matters were more important. Like his perfectly starched white shirt and unbuttoned gray coat splattered with unmistakable coffee stains.
“Shit,” you said again, involuntarily. He didn’t say anything in return, still staring at you with that face that was half-horrified, half-angry, eyes wide behind his round-framed glasses. Mouth set into a hard line. You were frozen, unable to do anything, feeling like he might do something drastic at any moment.
But he straightened up without a word, slowly putting the cap back on his remaining coffee. “Excuse me,” he said in the most frigid tone possible, and pushed past you. You were left standing, still frozen, the droplets of coffee cooling on your neck and the clean fabric of your new shirt.
Shaking off the strange encounter, you stepped to the side of the footpath to rummage in your bag for the single paper napkin crushed among the receipts from the past few weeks, dabbing off as much of the coffee as possible. It was too late, though - the liquid had already permeated the thin fabric, leaving ugly blotches across your shoulders and collar.
Even more frustrated now, you shoved your hat back on your head and crushed your bag to your chest to hide the stains. You were late by almost ten minutes now, ten precious minutes of your lesson that you wouldn’t be able to get back. Cursing the wind and your clumsiness, you hurried back in the direction you had been going in earlier. It thankfully wasn’t long before you saw the three-storied glass front of your music school.
You pushed through the front doors into the hush of the lobby. There weren’t many people here, but even if there were, there was an unspoken rule that everyone maintained silence. Sounds of instruments seeped through the walls and ceiling, all of them playing different tunes but mingling in a sort of pleasant harmony that, when combined with the familiar dusty warmth of the old building, instantly comforted you.
Your piano room was towards the far end of the building. As a senior student, you were lucky enough to be assigned one of the school’s vintage grand pianos, a warm cherry-wood Blüthner whose keys you knew better than anything else. The room smelled like the lavender candles you’d brought in a few months ago and the remnants of a musty scent still lingering in the stiff leather of the seat from when the room had sat unused for years. You sat, lifting the lid off the keys and lightly tracing the notes on them as you waited for your instructor to arrive.
Five minutes passed. Okay, maybe she ran to get a coffee, you told yourself. It wasn’t like her to be late. Madame Choi was the most punctual, timely person you knew. You switched from lightly glossing your fingers across the keys to actually pressing down on them, playing one of your opening pieces at half speed and focusing on the notes that resonated around the room.
A knock at the door stilled your hands. “Y/N?” A voice that was not your instructor’s.
“Come in,” you called, surprised, pulling your hands off the keys and tucking them in your lap, wondering what had happened, hoping nothing had messed up your schedule. Your heart rate picked up, and you swallowed the sudden apprehension down. Everything’s going to be fine.
The door opened to reveal the receptionist, a skittish, short man in glasses who’d recently been hired. “I’m very sorry to inform you that Madame Choi has had to leave the country urgently on emergency family business. She won’t be available until Saturday morning.”
Saturday - the night of your concert. Today was Monday. Your heart sank, and he must have seen it in your face because his eyes widened immediately. “Oh, but don’t worry. She’s arranged for an alternate instructor to work with you until then.”
This was almost worse, but you didn’t voice it. An alternate instructor so close to the actual concert? How would you handle it? You needed everything to go perfectly, and it was already starting to look wrong.
The receptionist gave you what was meant to be a comforting smile. “He’s one of the best in the country. He flew in just at Madame Choi’s request, since your concert is so soon.”
“Um, alright,” you said, tilting your head a little in an attempt to look past into the hallway and catch a glimpse of your new instructor. You were automatically visualizing a wizened old man, gray-haired, perhaps ill-tempered, stiffly traditional.
The receptionist slipped into the hallway, and you heard muttered words exchanged before a shadow lengthened along the hallway and you heard footsteps coming closer.
You were not expecting the person who stood in the doorway. And clearly, he wasn’t expecting you either. Your eyes dropped to the blatantly obvious coffee stains on his shirt, still there even though he’d tried to blot them away like you had.
“This is Mr. Zhang Yixing,” said the receptionist, shadowed behind your new instructor’s tall figure. “Mr. Zhang, this is Madame Choi’s student, Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” he said. And now, his voice was no warmer than it had been after you’d bumped into him earlier.
Your face burned, and you stood up to greet him, taking the hand he offered. His handshake was firm; impersonal, and he pulled away too quickly. “The pleasure’s mine,” you all but coughed out. And, obligated, you added, “Thank you for agreeing to replace Madame Choi this week. I wouldn’t know what to do otherwise.” You cracked a smile in the hope it would ease some of the tension, but it wasn’t returned.
You recognized the name, realized why he had seemed so familiar earlier. How many times had you seen him on TV? You swallowed thickly.
Zhang Yixing was your replacement instructor?
Needing something to distract yourself with, you walked over to the other end of the room, dragging the other armchair over next to the piano for him to use. In that time he had agreed on something with the receptionist, who quietly slipped away, the door closing behind him. Leaving you alone in the room with the man who looked like you were the last person in the world he wanted to deal with.
“Y/N, was it?” He settled himself in the armchair you had brought over, steepling his hands across his lap.
You coughed. “Yes, that’s correct.”
He gave you a curt nod. “How long have you been preparing for your debut, Y/N?” If you thought his gaze had been intense out on the street, it was nothing compared to now. With just the both of you in the room and only the silence for company, it felt like he was scrutinizing every inch of you. Like he could see right through you, and right through every inch of you. A feeling of inadequacy began to rise up - from the pile of feelings you’d been pushing away ever since your debut had been confirmed.
You didn’t like that feeling at all. You were here now, weren’t you? On your way to having your debut at a prestigious concert hall, a position you had worked hard for. It was as if he could see past all that; and what lay beneath was nothing.
“Almost a year,” you paused before adding, “Mr. Zhang.” You hated that your voice was suddenly so timid - all because of his stare.
He waved a hand. “No need for formalities, I’d expect you’re at most only a few years younger than me. Please call me Yixing.”
“Okay. Yixing.”
He nodded, satisfied. “I’d like you to play the last piece in your arrangement.” He segued into the request without preamble, leaning back in his chair and watching you. “You may begin.”
He left no room for a reply, and, taken aback by his curt tone, you simply nodded, drawing in a deep breath and resting your fingers on the keys. It was one of the harder pieces in your repertoire, more taxing than the others, so if you were to make a mistake in any piece it would be this one. You hoped, of all times and places to mess up, you wouldn’t do so in front of him. Suddenly, you had something to prove. You wanted to show him he couldn’t dismiss you with a single glance.
Your finger landed on the first note. The counts ran through your head, an imaginary metronome ticking away in time with your hands sliding across the keys as the pace picked up. You didn’t take your focus off the piece, not sparing an ounce of your attention to Yixing watching you like a hawk. This was what you loved to do. This was what you had worked towards all your life. This was all you knew -
“Stop,” he said.
Your fingers froze, the notes dropping off midway, dissolving incongruously.
He leaned forward. “I have to be frank with you here, Y/N. As much as I respect and admire Madame Choi, I will have to disagree with her on one point.” He paused to meet your eyes, to make sure you understood. “That point being whether or not you are ready for a solo debut. At the Philharmonic Hall, too, if I remember correctly.”
Your blood turned to ice. “I’m sorry?” You fumbled over the words, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. Because there was no way he could have said that.
But his face was stoic. Unflinching. He really does think that. “You don’t lack in skill or talent, I assure you. You lack in something that is integral to every good performer and every good performance. And that is what makes the difference between you being ready for a debut or not.”
You held your breath, your body taut as you waited. What was he saying?
“And that is passion, Y/N. Feeling. One listens to a pianist not to hear the song, but to hear their interpretation of it. I can replicate your performance simply by reading the sheets and imagining the notes. I don’t need you to play for me.” He gave you a tight smile. “So tell me what we should do to fix the problem here, Y/N.”
“The…problem?”
His lips dropped into the slightest of frowns. “Yes, indeed, the problem. I’m glad you understood we have a problem here. You have a week - less than a week, might I add - and you are still nowhere near ready enough to go up on that stage and play on Saturday evening. I believe that warrants to some amount of concern, am I correct?”
“Yes,” you all but whispered, still disbelieving.
He was quiet for a minute, as if deep in thought. His voice startled you out of your reverie. “Play it again.”
He was wrong. Mistaken.
The thing was, you knew about Zhang Yixing. Knew who he was. Knew the piano prodigy child who had learnt to play Alkan’s Concerto for Solo Piano at the age of seventeen and made his own debut in Carnegie Hall at age eleven. You knew that he was looked upon by pianists, composers and conductors across the world as the best classical musician of the twenty-first century.
So despite your confidence and hard work, if he said you weren’t ready, you probably weren’t ready.
Still, you swallowed down his criticism - a rather gentle word for what he had said - and you dove back into the piece from the start, trying to focus less on keeping the perfect timing, the meticulously practiced modulation. You tried to loosen it up, tried to forget the rigid structure of the song you remembered from your sheet music and play it with more feeling - as he’d said.
He interrupted you again. “Now you’re too sloppy. Don’t sacrifice the structure of the piece in the name of interpretation.”
Your lips twisted down, but you looked away from him to hide it. “How can I improve, then?”
“As with all things,” he said, “practice makes perfect.”
At that, you looked down at your hands, at the tips of your fingers worn ragged and red from all the practice you had been doing. You almost wanted to laugh.
“However, repeated practice is not the key to true perfection,” Yixing continued, making you look up in surprise. “It’s how you practice it that matters.”
You knew this already, but didn’t interrupt. How many times had Madame Choi told you this?
He went on. “You have to practice a performance. Even in an empty room, when you play a song, it is a performance.” He paused. “You’ve never performed before, have you.” His tone was dry, a little more scathingly critical than before.
It was a statement, not a question, but you still felt the need to disagree. “I have. A couple of recitals, and last month I-”
“You might as well have never performed.” It was a simple line, but he said it so derisively that you were stopped in your tracks immediately.
You froze, your jaw clenching at the interruption. “Okay.”
“To give you my honest opinion,” he continued, “I don’t see potential in your playing. I’ll admit, you’ve perfected the technique. But a good pianist is always in touch with the emotions of the piece, and with their own emotions, and the skill of combining the two is what really matters.”
Your cheeks burned, and despite everything you felt an unexpected smear of anger flare in you. “Then I might as well cancel my debut altogether, if Zhang Yixing himself says I don’t deserve one.” The minute the unnecessarily hostile words were out of your mouth, you wanted to take them back.
He didn’t look offended. One eyebrow quirked up, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and watching you. “Yes, I say so. If you’re not going to play well, why play at all?”
That was harsh. If only his words didn’t affect you so much. This was your life - your passion. You had thrown everything you had into this. For him to discredit you so easily made you want to get up and leave. To give it all up. How pathetic was that - that you were ready to throw away everything you had done just because one person said it wasn’t good enough?
Granted, that one person was Zhang Yixing, but…
You swallowed down the angry retort that was threatening to spill out. If you don’t have nice things to say, don’t say anything at all. He was all you had to work with, and if you chased him off with your temper, you wouldn’t have an instructor this week - the most crucial week of your life so far. But you couldn’t help but ask. “Are you…is this all because I bumped into you earlier?”
“What happens outside my class and what happens inside are completely unrelated, Y/N. I am simply offering you criticism - something you will have to learn to accept if you want to become a concert pianist.” His eyebrow shot up again. “I think we’ve wasted enough time for one day. What is your opening piece?”
You would have expected Madame Choi to tell him all this before he started, but apparently that was not the case. Or he was testing you. As if reading your mind, he said, “Apologies. This was all very last minute. I took the first flight after Madame Choi called me.”
You nodded, suddenly awkward.
“I was on my way here from the airport when you bumped into me.”
Suddenly, you felt guilty again. Was he trying to make you feel guilty? By making it seem like he’d gone out of his way to come help you, only to find a lacking student. You only wondered what Madame Choi had told him about you to make him arrive so quickly.
“I’m sorry about that,” you said again, setting up your sheet music on the stand in the right order.
“No worries. You already said you were.”
You ducked your head, letting your hair block your reddened face from his view as you settled your fingers in the right position for the beginning of your opening piece, the Sonata No.7. Without waiting for Yixing to tell you to start, you began playing, forgetting - or trying to forget, at least - his comments from earlier as you settled into the rhythm of playing.
You managed to get through the whole first movement without Yixing speaking up in between. You paused to lean away from the keys and quickly stretch your fingers. Before you started the next movement, though, you dared to take a glance at Yixing, cheeks reddening again when you saw he was already watching you.
He spoke before you could begin the second movement. “That part. Play it again?”
“This?” You flipped back through the sheaf of sheet music until you found the section he was talking about, holding your breath.
“Yes, that one. You play it too stiffly. It stands out.” You nodded, relieved that the remark wasn’t as bad as you had expected.
As you began to play, he stopped you immediately. “No. Do that again.” You refrained from letting out a huff of breath, frustrated once again. You’d thought that he would be a little more patient now that he seemed to have warmed up to you, but unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. Nor did you even entertain the thought that he would ‘go easy’ on you.
“That transition there,” he pointed, holding up a finger. “You add a pause where there isn’t one in the notes.”
You weren’t surprised that he had noticed. “Yes, it helps me switch my fingering a little easier. Madame Choi suggested I do so.”
His hand turned into a wave, dismissing your explanation. “You don’t need a pause there, fingering or otherwise.”
You wanted to tell him no, that this was how you had been practicing, that you would struggle in this segment without the pause. “I do need one. I thought this was about interpretation.”
“It is about interpretation,” he said shortly. “However, a correct interpretation is what we’re looking for here.”
“There is no right or wrong in music,” you defended; that was something Madame Choi had told you many times.
“But there is ‘good’ and there is ‘bad’, and in music, ‘good’ is right and ‘bad’ is wrong.” He raised a brow.
You didn’t know what to say to that. It was barely anything, but that anger, the need to defend yourself, rose up in you again. The only way you could think to retort was to grit your teeth and play the part again, in an attempt to show him his words weren’t jabbing through your skin. Which they were. You followed his advice, eliminating the pause in favor of the traditional structure. Only to have the unfamiliar fingering trip you up, your thumb hitting an ugly note.
“It’s okay,” Yixing said. “Try again.”
You nodded and did as told, but with more vengeance this time. Your thumb glossed over the right notes, only for you to fumble three measures later. You bit your lip, staring at the notes in the hope they would rearrange themselves into something simpler. How many times had you played this piece? This very segment?
Yixing hummed thoughtfully. “You’re forcing yourself. Try to let it come naturally.”
Despite yourself, you snorted out a laugh. “There’s the line I was waiting for. You should know that’s easier said than done.”
Surprisingly, he cracked a smile at that - albeit a small one - before the upward curve of his lips disappeared once again into their usual stern line.
“You can try starting from a few lines previous, maybe here?” He reached over, turning the pages of the sheets for you himself before sitting back and resuming his earlier position, eyes closed as he waited for you to play.
The rest of your lesson went like that, with you playing, him interrupting, and making you play it again. By the end, you’d only managed to run through the first movement of your first piece, and you felt like the song had dug a groove so deep in your mind that you could collapse inside it.
“I think we’re done for today,” Yixing said, looking under his round-framed glasses at his watch.
You looked up at the clock on the wall yourself, eyes widening as you saw where the minute hand sat. You’d actually gone beyond the three-hour boundary for your lesson; the clock now read ten minutes to 9. Which was surprising, given how much you’d felt like running away when Yixing had first walked in. You’d thought you wouldn’t be able to make it through one hour. Much less three.
And you had finished the three hours without anything disastrous happening. You still had an instructor, and you still had your debut.
Tenderly, you slid the piano lid shut, pulling out the keys that would lock it shut until you arrived tomorrow from your purse and pushing the lid down. You were silent, as was Yixing, as you moved around and put down the top of the grand piano, then pushed the bench underneath it.
“Practice,” Yixing said simply, as he shouldered his bag and buttoned his coat. “Practice only what we did today, nothing else. You can run through some of your other pieces if you need to, but don’t spend too much time on them.”
You nodded, reaching for the doorknob to hold the door open for him. “Thank you,” he murmured as he walked through, and you followed him down the hallways of the building to the main lobby. He bent down at the front desk to sign the visitor’s sheet, and you lingered at the doors, waiting.
“See you tomorrow,” you called out finally, pushing open the door and letting a blast of cold wind from outside leak in.
Yixing looked up, spotting you before lifting his hand in a slight wave. No smile, then. You were almost disappointed.
a/n: so since this has been rotting in my drafts for a few months, and i don’t have anything else to post for a while...enjoy the first two chapters of this! as always, i appreciate ur comments x
Can I get an EXO reaction to you coming home with a new pet randomly?
Junmyeon:
Hed get home from the studio and instantly know something was up by the way you weren't in the kitchen... or the apartment at all. Hed think about texting you, but the moment he was able to set all his stuff down and pull his phone out you were walking back into the door carrying bags from a store there was no reason for you to be out. He helped you place everything down, not questioning much but when he realized how sneaky you were being hed fold his arms with a smile on his face. When he got you to admit that you had a puppy in the other room hed shake his head and follow you to go see it. Hed never be against you getting a dog, so instead of saying things that would possibly cause a problem hed just sit on the floor and let the puppy climb all over him.
Minseok:
Hed see the giant tank before he saw you, but he wouldnt think much of it the first time his eyes met it. But the second and third time he looked back at it he’d start to get little skeptical. Hed call your name, bringing you out from the bedroom, not saying anything until you were in view, and even then hed only just point at it with a confused look on his face. ‘Whats in that?’ Hed ask, not really sure what to expect. ‘I got a snake!’ You said excitedly, skipping up to the glass and opening the top. Hed tell you it was okay, he didnt need to see it. At first he thought hed hate living in the same space as a snake, but the more he thought about it as long as he didnt have to feed it or really see it, hed be okay. Plus, if it made you happy he was happy.
Lay:
Walking in the front door and stepping on a cat toy would annoy him slightly. But seeing you passed out on the couch with the tiny little kitten curled up in your arms made his heart melt. Hed Wake you up by taking the sleeping animal out of your arms, studying it, pretending like he was going to be mad about it. Hed make you giggle by kidding the cats little nose and turning to you, excitedly asking what her name was. When you told him you were waiting to choose a name with him hed sit on the ground in front of you, playing with the kitten for the rest of the night as the two of you picked a name.
Baekhyun:
There would be no upset or made phase when you walked into the apartment with a puppy on the end of a leash. Hed stand up instantly, laughing as it tugged at its own leash. He’d drop to the ground, asking if it was yours to keep. Hed play with it more than you would, and at the end of the day hed lay passed out with it cuddling his side. You wouldnt be able to keep the two apart from one another so the joke up you just leaving the dog for him to have was something you always teased him with.
Jongdae:
He knew by the texts you had been sending him that day that something was up, so when he came to your place to be greater by the sound of barking he’d just smile and shake his head. He’d mock you slightly as you opened it, puppy in hand, laughing harder when the puppy interrupted your kiss by licking his chin. Hed sit back and watch as you took care of her by feeding and putting a new collar on. He wouldn't take much more about the dog though, it was something you wanted so how could he turn your first day as a new mom sour.
Chanyeol:
Hed be more excited then you were when you sent him a video of the dog you rescued running around your apartment. He knew you had been looking into rescuing, but seeing that you had already picked one and adopted him was a surprise. Hed hurry home later that day and when he finally got to meet the pup face to face hed start asking you if you can bring him to the studio so everyone can meet him. You could tell instantly that he loved the dog so much already and by the end of the night the two of them were already best friends.
Kyungsoo:
He always told you that he didnt want a pet in the house since the two of you were constantly so busy, so when he came home to see you playing with the little dog hed be a little mad. Hed ask you all these questions about your ability to take care of him, getting slightly madder with every reasonable answer. Hed continue to be mad, refusing to look at the little dog. Bu the moment he did you could see his heart melt, so you just stood up and left the room. You'd find him later laying on his stomach and playing with the puppy. You'd ask him if he still wanted to get rid of it, so when he didnt respond you knew you and the new pup had won.
Jongin:
It was first a surprise when he came home to see the giant fish tank you were setting up in the living room. Hed help, but would be spectical since he knew how much the tank had cost and he didnt really see fish as a pet. But as time went on hed find himself excited to help you set up and decorate the tank, and when it was time for you to buy the fish you wanted he was right by your side in picking them out. By the time they had arrived and the two of you were ready to start putting them in their new home he already saw them as his children and named all of them for you.
Sehun:
At first the thought of you getting a ferret was insane to him. Hed try to talk you out of it multiple times, and though that he had succeeded. Until he came home to see you bent over a play pin with a cat toy in your hand. Hed hate the thing at first, he couldn't be too mean but would always make little digs at the animal that you seemed so found of. But one day, when he got to your apartment before you and let it out of its cage so it could hang out in the playpen for you, like you had asked, hed starts to love the creature. It would start when he started playing with his own tail, running around, flipping over, and squeaking around. He wouldnt want you to know he had accepted it but when he was caught, playing with the sweatshirt he had turned into a tunnel toy for the ferret, hed just smile and shrug, picking the ferret up and making it say silly things to you.
