I’m working on a Xiaojun fic where he’s a bunny hybrid, it’s a slow burn and very lengthy. How do y’all feel about that? Like it’s a very…very slow burn, and was inspired by a Chinese short I watched called Nine Tailed Fox. Do y’all want that when it’s done? So far it’s 8k words, but I’m only half way through so I’m expecting that it’ll be over 10k. (Yes there will be smut and yes the rest of wayv is involved.)
I’m asking because I’m worried that no one will read it🥲and if I don’t post it then ill leave it in my drafts for myself after finishing it, but if people want it then ill post it. So…
synopsis — since the beginning of time, dejun has only ever known of you and him, him and you. but even though his love for you is beyond even his own understanding, dejun can’t help but want to know more.
✧ x.dj x (gender neutral) reader. high school au. soulmate au. breakup-ish + angst.
✧ requested ! (original request). length — 2.8k. disclaimers — one swear word.
✧ author’s note — i don’t ever write soulmate aus because they feel pretty redundant to me (personal opinion) but this ... you’ll see ... HAHA. also tried a new format ?? not really it’s just one big block of text, no dividers, and terrible transitions, pardon me <3
at the base of dejun's right pinky was tied a thin knotted loop of red yarn that ran and ran and ran — much like he did at the age of three when curiosity killed the cat — until it led to you. in all his life, the single thing he'd ever acknowledged as fact was that he was indisputably in love with you.
the red string of fate they call it, destiny, predetermined soulmates; he knows it all too well, he's felt it all too much. it's love that suffocates his vocal chords when he attempts, as he always does, to cajole you into staying over for yet another movie marathon. it's love that transforms the little mole on your cheek into a beauty mark, and it's love that makes your clumsiness seem endearing and not, in fact, careless. it's in love, this one normal, average morning where, like any other weekday, he awaits in his pristine and shiny toyota in the driveway of your house, checking the time on his watch every one or two minutes just so he can tease you about how late you always are, (though he always makes sure to drive as fast as needed to get you to school on time).
and when in your rush, the sleeve of your baggy sweatshirt gets caught in the car door that's just been shut behind you, dejun reaches over to prop open the door once again. it's then that you lean down into the open window to say thank you, i love you, i'll see you later. of course, you love him; you just don't know why.
he's asked you many times before, since you were little kids, a little past little kids, freshly pronounced middle schoolers, and now teenagers. he's asked you, more specifically, why it is that you love him. his smile? his world-renowned sense of humor? his kind gestures or the way he's never failed to appear by your side when you needed him? for some reason, you've never been able to supply him with a valid answer. it's always been, "i just do, i just know i do."
as dejun steers left into the student parking lot, bound to be late to school himself, he supposes that that should be enough for him. that your love is just so innate and deeply written into who you are that loving him just comes as easy as breathing, or even as living. he supposes that it's the same for him, save that he's the only person who actually knows why. he's the only one in the world who is privy to the secret of the red string of fate.
they call him the matchmaker: the girl whose locker is two to the left of his was his first "client" of sorts — not that he really knew exactly what he was doing back in the third grade when he whispered in her ear that yes, her crush liked her back. much unlike everyone else hypothesized, dejun was not psychic, nor was he from the future, and he certainly did not dabble in dark magic. all he had was good eyesight, special eyesight.
through the school day, all he had to do was squint a little and there was the same red string, this time connecting two of his classmates, or the two teachers that had recently gotten engaged, and then his own red string. it was never too long, for at least during school hours, you were never too far.
dejun rejoins with you after your fifth period class, which he regretfully did not share with you. he eyes your designated lunch table from the entrance of the cafeteria, a sight that cannot be missed from however far. yukhei's recent obsession with playing card games has everyone either extremely riled in egyptian war or obscenely annoyed at his insistance at playing during each break, sometimes even during passing periods in the busy hallways. hendery has his routine thumb wrestle match with yangyang scheduled each day at noon, and you can only imagine how rough it gets at the fifteen minute mark when neither of them and their sore thumbs are willing to surrender. the rest of the guys? they're cheering them on.
making a beeline, dejun rounds the corner to see that there's a new addition to the table today. to your left, and currently cowering in yukhei's overwhelming presence, sits a very tall, yet uncomfortable looking boy. "and who might this be?" dejun inquires when's he's within earshot of your group.
he guesses that you're the one who's brought him along as it's you who begins to speak on his behalf, "oh, this is sungchan everyone. he's new, found him lost in the hallways." dejun nods, holding out a hand for the new guy to shake. he does so and dejun retracts promptly to take his seat across from you. usually he'd be by your side but he isn't bothered by this sungchan's presence; there's no need to be when you're so plainly his.
sungchan turns out to be nice, a true warm-hearted mama's boy, who happens to have the driest, elementary-level sense of humor. he laughs at the most trivial of things, a puke yellow car driving by, a cloud the shape of a penis, your lame attempts at jokes. that's the thing, the only other person who ever bothers to laugh at your lame jokes is dejun. it's only ever been dejun.
and it's there, one day at the park, while the boys toss frisbees across the field to one another, that you feel yourself liking sungchan's laugh a little more than you've ever remembered liking anyone's laugh. perhaps it has a little something to do with how sungchan laughs at your jokes because he thinks you're genuinely hilarious, comedian of the year. dejun won't ever admit it, nor would you ever admit that you know, that he only ever laughs to make you feel better, to ensure that you won't feel so alone, almost out of obligation. it's there, that day at the park, that dejun starts to feel the knot at the base of his stomach grow in size, threads stringing and tangling themselves together to form one big ball of unease.
dejun picks you up the next morning for school, same as always, but even while it's his hand that's in yours, you still perk up the whole ride about the game that you got sungchan into the night before. the same game that you've been trying to get your boyfriend to play for the last three months. and strangely enough, dejun goes home that night to play that very game, despite protesting your urges for however long.
he finds himself competing, almost, not that he'd ever admit it to be a competition. but dejun finds himself eyeing the spot next to you that used to be his, counting down the hours he used to spend facetiming you, and catering to you in ways he'd never bothered to before. he doesn't like to think of it as jealousy, more just like...keeping what's rightfully his. which leads him to the conclusion, or rather raises the question: why does he even feel the need to in the first place?
soulmates are soulmates for a reason. they are meant to complete each other in ways inexplicable to how any other person could ever. they are meant to bring you the most joy, the most sincerity, the most happiness. and above all, it's supposed to be effortless, innate, built in, shaped by fate and destiny and all things good.
he slips his arm around your unsuspecting shoulders, your back to him and your front towards your locker, "hey there, love." and you roll your eyes at his corny tone, opting to strike up conversation rather than acquiesce to his antics, "wanna tell me why i had to walk to school today?"
dejun frowns, recalling a good chunk of the paragraph-length message he'd sent you this morning, "didn't you see my text?" you shake your head and his frown only dips further, "you didn't see it? you know, preparations for the film festival…?" another shake of your head. "...had to get to school at 5…?" more head shaking. "...didn't wanna wake you up that early…?" your head might fall clean off from all the shaking at this rate so he discontinues, only for you to rejoin a few seconds later with, "well, good news was that i wasn't alone."
raising his eyebrows, dejun shuts your locker door for you as you walk on, accidentally slamming it with more aggression than necessary. a hunch already forming in the back of his mind, he replaces his arm atop your shoulder as you walk side by side towards the east exit. still he asks before making any assumptions, "who?"
"sungchan."
dejun can only nod as his hunch morphs into reality.
"apparently he lives down the block and walks to school too."
"too? you've only ever walked to school this one time."
"yeah, but i've decided i'm gonna do it more often, keep the boy company, you know?"
"then..." he's a good boyfriend, he is a respectful boyfriend, "...then just tell me what days i don't need to pick you up." he's a good, respectful, and trusting boyfriend. dejun finds himself repeating that over and over in his head as the two of you head for the exit. and once he's driven you up to the driveway of your house, he rolls down the window of the car door you'd just exited and leans to get within your line of sight, "you're coming tonight right?"
and as you lean as well, the little smile you've paired earns dejun's heart four extra flips. "of course, i wouldn't miss it for the world."
he's yours, you're his. dejun knows just that, but as he stares at the screen of his phone, still seated in his car that's now parked out on the driveway of his own house, he can't help but think that all it took for sungchan to score a few more hours with you was a slip of his finger. because there the message sat, spelled out into one long paragraph, unsent.
dejun's in the driver's seat of his car again not three hours later, driving past your neighborhood in the direction of the school. the sun's already begun to set and he thinks to himself that that's what's making him a little more disgruntled than usual. by the time he arrives, the sky is dark and he sets to work at ordering his club members to station the lights here and to get the fold-out chairs in rows of how many. he's not left with much time to himself, not a second to spare for unreasonable thoughts, unexplained emotions, and unnecessary ponderings.
but when half the school has arrived, been shown to their seats, and most the lights have been clicked off for a more authentic screening experience, dejun finds that it's almost too easy to spot you in the crowd, even easier seeing as you're seated next to a six foot one guy that goes by the name of sungchan. stepping onto the slim platform in front of the raised projector screen, dejun starts reading off of the notecard he'd prepared just this morning at the club meeting. club president, blah blah, welcomes you to annual film festival, blah blah, today we'll be screening blah blah. he looks up once, and though the spotlight is almost bright enough to blind him, he can still see you if he squints.
he doesn't know it then, but that's his fatal mistake.
how tiring would it be for a person to have to deal with all these obnoxious red strings crossing, tangling, and obstructing his vision constantly throughout the day? at least fate was kind enough to make it so this "special gift" of his was intentional, only equipped if he focused his vision with the intent of seeing more than what meets the eye. words still coming out of his mouth, into the microphone, and out into the audience, dejun begins to fumble over the sentences, missing bulleted point after bulleted point on his notecard until he's down to the last. and with one sharp inhale, he forces it out. "without further ado, i hope you enjoy the film."
dejun can't bring himself to return to the seat beside you that you've saved for him. he can't bring himself to do anything but run to the nearest bathroom and spend the rest of the night blowing his nose with the scratchy school toilet paper and washing his face after every breakdown that he swore would be his last. head spinning, he comes to the conclusion that nothing makes sense anymore, nothing feels right anymore, and nothing is right anymore, has anything ever been right?
because what could possibly explain the fact that there is no sign of a red string tied around the base of sungchan's pinky finger? why did fate feel the need to show him this? why did fate make him free and dejun chained?
friday lends itself to saturday as he parks his car on the driveway of his house. he has no idea where he was for the past two hours but he knows that it was somewhere stuck in his mind. all of a sudden, his back finds the sheets of his bed, phone left in the car for even just the sight of your name in his notifications makes him question who he is, who you are, who sungchan is.
and the answers come to him after he's had another hour or two to himself. he is your predestined soulmate, and he has known of soulmates since the day he realized the meaning of the word itself. you are his predestined soulmate, and you will never know what happened that made your first love break up with you. and sungchan, well sungchan's the complication in it all.
dejun was fine with loving you and knowing that he had no say in it. he was fine with it because that's just how it was, people loved each other just because. but sungchan is not driven by fate, or destiny, or anything predetermined. sungchan is driven by volition and desire and feelings that haven't been forced upon him. he can love you just as much as he can love someone else. as fucked up as it feels, dejun wonders what it feels to not love you at all. and at that thought, his world turns upside down.
his mind screams at him, in decibels louder and more incomprehensible than can be audibly heard. his thoughts reverberate through him and he takes a swig of water only to choke it back up. what's wrong with him? what's wrong with him is that you love him in the most inorganic way possible. what's wrong is that you don't know, and that he does. what's wrong is that he loves you, just as loud as his mind and just as incomprehensible as his thoughts. what's wrong is that you love him back, but you never chose to. and dejun knows more than anything in the world, that that makes all the difference.
dejun wonders what would become of the two of you if you could trade these ends for beginnings. he wonders if he would still love you, like how sungchan loves you, freely and carelessly. his wonders, his thoughts, his curiosity, they far outweigh his love for you, for he knows his love is by design and not of discretion. he'd known from the start that his gift in sight wasn't simply given for him to see, but to do something about it, to change his fate, yours, sungchan's. it's four thirty on a saturday morning when dejun lets his wonders crawl free with a sleight of hand, a snip.
and before he knew it, you'd fallen to the charms of someone else and there he stood left with a frayed end of red yarn, scissors in hand, loveless.
✧ end note — not proofread that thoroughly, please excuse me as i am in a rush right now but rest assured i will return to this later in the day. anon babe, if you’re reading this APOLOGIES once again for taking so long but i hope it was worth the wait <33
➷ [ 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ] "You know, I think my parents would be proud if I brought you home." boyfriend!xiaojun says while watching you take a bite of your oh so large burger.
A smile of amusement taking over his face as he noticed a tiny blob of mayonnaise at the corner of your bottom lip. He leaned in, his face just inches away from yours, and he continued to wipe it off of your lip using his thumb.
“I’m never going to leave you. I promise.”
You choked on your food when you heard that. You grab the water bottle kept on the corner of the table while violently hitting your chest, trying your best to stop incessant coughing.
“Are you okay?” He hurriedly stood up from his seat, worry taking over his all senses.
“Yeah,” you coughed once again, “It’s just that, your sudden confession caught me a little off-guard,” you admit.
He was about to say something when you cut him off midway, “And you know, you got to let your girl swallow her food before you pull something like that, lord knows what could’ve happened to me,” you shook your head. He could see right through the arrogance in your tone, where lied a playful intension.
“Well then, my lady, thee shouldst continueth chewing thy food,” he said with the stupidest, yet a heart-melting smile plastered on his face as he took his seat.
“I love you,” you cooed, flashing him the most genuine smile of yours.
“And what if i say i don’t?”
“Way to ruin the moment, Dejun,” you rolled your eyes at him, and the both of you broke into fits of laughter right after.
[2:34 pm] after you and xiaojun went your separate ways he seemed to change for the worst. he started drinking, and getting into trouble around every corner. you were the only person he had, and now you were gone. he's wandering on a dark road and falling at almost every turn with nothing to light his way. you used to be there to light his way, to help him back up. but now each time he falls and reaches out for your hand, nothing is there. he curses the skies daily and wishes you were still by his side.
G e n r e | a lot of fluff, a LOT of angst, some smut, au, ceo!au, famous-ceo!au, slice of life
S y n o p s i s | Do dreams even come true? Certainly not but for Y/N, that wasn’t the case, just a convenience store worker in Beijing, trying to study to be in business but one night when she was closing up the shop, she finds a man in danger and saves him. Little did she know, that was the CEO of the top companies of China, Xiao Dejun. What happens when Xiao Dejun tries to find her to offer her a job that can change her whole life time?
M e m b e r s | Xiaojun (Weishen V) ft. Weishen V and Neo Culture Technology
P a i r i n g | Xiaojun X Reader
W a r n i n g (s) | Sad backstory, Depression (mental illness) , Family issues, abusing involved.
➷ [8:32 am] “Yuta” you let out a sigh. It was not the sigh of disappointment, but the one of infatuation. Your mind was currently preoccupied with the thoughts of Yuta.
bestfriend!xiaojun, who was sitting right across you, rolled his eyes at you being all so smitten over Yuta. “What’s so great about him anyway,” he let out a scoff of distaste.
You snap out of your trance, now getting overly defensive because of what your best friend just said. “What do you mean by 'what’s so great about him' ?”
You scoffed in disbelief, “Have you seen him- he can sing, he can dance, he is the football team’s captain, his smile is fucking beautiful and-”
Before you could complete your little ramble session, Xiaojun took the bread from his tray of food, and stuffed it in your mouth, not wanting to hear any more about him.
All he could hear right now was a muffled, “and he definitely does not shove bread into his best friend's mouth”
your boyfriend, idol!xiaojun, comes home from work in the dead of the night. you can’t see him all that much through the darkness but you’re just happy that he’s back. but all thoughts of happiness are thrown out the window when, upon awakening, you see that his hair is yellow and that his eyebrows are bleached. his once very beautiful, thick-haired eyebrows are now pale and limp. you scream.
