#idk if this is fluff or angst maybe the latter

[reidmania]

use somebody 2 | spencer reid

part one here

summary; spencer dreaded the day he would see you with anything other than a frown on your face, when that day comes, spencer would do anything to bring your sweet smile back.

warnings; some mean police man being sexist and mean to fem reader, protective spencer, fluff, a little angst but like barley any, will there be a love confession??? read and find out!

an; idk im dying. thank u. mgg hand mention

Spencer wasn’t the biggest fan of the jet before you joined the bau. He didn’t have any particular issue with it, there was nothing he could really fault or use as an explanation as to why he wasn’t a big fan of it but it was just boring, he would read and then reread books, then try and sleep.

Then you joined the team and suddenly the jet was one of his favourite places, because you would sit next to him. You would ramble about a new show you were watching or a flower you had seen on the side of the road, and lately you would tell him about your dog. He would get to listen to you talk and get to watch you smile and flap your arms around as you got increasingly more excited as your ramble went on.

On the way home if you were feeling too tired to excitedly ramble about something random you would just sit next to him and let him ramble, the same excited smile on your face nonetheless as you paid the at most attention to whatever it was he was talking about, listening intently and asking questions almost as if you just wanted to keep him talking.

He didn’t mind.

Your plans to watch the documentary he recommended at your house were quickly ruined by the notice that you had a case that would take over the span of your weekend.You had apologised profusely to Spencer as if he didn’t technically cancel on you just as much as you did him. He didn’t mind, he got to spend time with you either way.

In a sort of twisted way, he preferred working a case with you. At least this way you were around him rather than spending your weekends around anyone else. He wondered if that was creepy and controlling and if he said it aloud it would probably end in him over explaining how he just hated the idea of anything happening to you, or you meeting someone else.

You were too kind, for anyone. Especially him.

Thats why he was immensely annoyed when the Police Sheriff of the station they were at in Louisiana, decided to nit-pick every little thing you did. He wondered if the Sheriff was just insanely insecure or if maybe it was a gender issue.

He settled on the latter when the comments ended up going towards Emily, and JJ as well. Just a little bit more towards you, maybe because regardless you continue smiling at him or muttering out soft apologies for whatever minor thing you had done that the policeman had an issue with.

There were many times Spencer wanted to speak up, or shove the old mans faced into a wall — but then you’d smile sweetly at Spencer and he remembered you were a grown woman, you were perfectly capable of taking care and defending yourself. Regardless of this information, Spencer stayed a little closer to you throughout the day.

“Alright, giggle guts, whatcha got for me?” Penelope said over the phone after she had heard your mumble out a cheery hello once it went through. Spencer smiled fondly at the nickname, mostly because he saw your smile widen and a string of laughter leaving your lips, the sound melodic in his ears.

The sound of your laughter only made a small laugh puff out Spencer’s lips because it was so sweet and so beautiful that it was contagious and he couldn’t help it.

“Well, you gorgeous amazing girl. I need you to look up this guy’s medical history, please” the manner was added so sweetly and softly on the end. The compliments left your lips effortlessly, the sound of your voice and the evident smile in it made Spencer’s heart happy.

Penelope said something over the phone but it was inaudible over the sound of Sheriff standing in the corner of the room scoffing. Your eyes flickered upwards towards the sound, eyebrows pinching together in slightly confusion. Everyone’s expression mirroring your own.

Spencer felt dread fill his stomach and over every goosebump on his skin, dread to fear whatever spiteful unnecessary criticism the man would have to offer. The criticism absolutely no one asked for.

“Whats the issue?” Hotch spoke up, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down the sheriff. Was it in a protective manner? Nobody was sure really, the elder’s expression remaining unreadable.

The sheriff kicked off the wall to stand a little stranger, looking at hotch than back to you. “Unprofessional. This is why this is a man’s job. Sensitive squishy women who think life is all sunshine and rainbow are not fit for a job like this.”

Everyone went silent, your lips parted before closing, unsure of how to reply to something so unnecessarily mean. Spencer’s expression hardened. The room fell into an awkward tension, nobody moving or saying anything.

You pushed out a laugh, “Damn okay.. Tell me what you really think” You muttered under your breath, a joke.

Spencer would’ve laughed at your comment, your way to bring light to a room that had been made so dark but he could see the hurt in your eyes and he felt his heart strings pull against his chest, he wanted to reach out and grab your hand, reassure you that you were perfect for this job.

He was pissed. Actually. There wasn’t a lot that could make Spencer mad — this however was one of the few things that did. He shuffled uncomfortably, finding it difficult to hold his tongue. He could tell Emily and JJ was uncomfortable by the comment made.

Hotch opened his mouth to talk but Spencer had beat him to it. “You’re probably, what 65?” He said, his tone of voice curt and blunt it made your heart turn in Spencer’s direction.

The police officer furrowed his eyebrows, yet nodded anyways. Spencer hummed in response, sitting up a little bit straighter as he leant forward to rest his forearms against the conference table the team had been gathered around.

“Right, so by assumption and well — biology. You are actually probably the least reliable person in this room right now, despite age or gender. Your pace is significantly slower than anyone on your team, and i don’t think I even need to compare you to our team because I don’t wish to further embarrass you or hurt your fragile masculinity much more.” Spencer started.

Your head had fully turned towards his now, eyebrows quipped and eyes widened in shock because you weren’t expecting Spencer of all people to come to your defence. Not because you didn’t think he cared but because the boy could hardly defend himself, you just hadn’t expected him to defend you.

“And actually — we use psychology, which women are actually significantly more successful in because of their ability of understanding, gender plays little to no role in our field of work. Its also ironic since I know you heard Derek on the phone to Garcia, you had no issue with what he had said — so I’m very sure that whatever issue you have, is purely because your masculinity feels threatened by girls who are doing a job you couldn’t fathom. Either get your mind out of the 1800’s or get away from our team.”

“Spence” His head turned towards your voice, taking in your wide eyes and parted lips in shock. He had honestly lost himself in the midsts of his ramble, unable to help it because someone had made you upset. The sweetest, kindest, gentlest person was made to feel bad by a way too old male who was clearly unable to adjust to the way the world was evolving.

“Sorry” Spencer apologised for his ramble. The door slammed shut as the policeman left the room, and Spencer felt a strange sense of pride when he looked back up at you to see a gentle smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you pulled your eyes away from him back to the phone.

“Sorry about that pen.. Those medical records?”

Your smiled returned throughout the rest of the day, Hotch had gone out of his way to talk to the Sheriff and although nobody else had any idea what the conversation between the two included, it was clearly enough to make the Sheriff stay far far away from you and the rest of the team whenever possible.

Although your smile returned, Spencer could almost instantly notice the drastic difference. Maybe it was actually minor because no one else noticed, or maybe he just spent too much time admiring your pretty smile. Either way, he knew he didn’t like it.

“Spence” You said the nickname, a hint of curiosity lacing your tone. his head lifted towards yours with furrowed eyebrows and a small nod of acknowledgement. He repeated your name back to you in the same sort of curious tone.

He watched as you sat up a little bit straighter, meeting his eyes, offering him a smile before you head dipped down again and a gentle breath left your lips. “Do you think I’m unprofessional?” You asked, voice small and gentle and Spencer felt his heart ache so tensely it caused physical pain in his chest.

“No” He answered immediately. The rest of the team were out looking over the crime scenes while he opted for staying back with you while you looked for any connecting links between files. “I think you are very professional. You’re kind but that doesn’t make you unprofessional.” He added, quick to reassure any doubt that weighed down on your pretty mind.

You hummed gently, “But-“ He didn’t let you finish or come up with any sort of argument, he wouldn’t have it. He refused to let man who was balding make you feel any less about yourself.

“But nothing.” He said, his voice stern and final yet so gentle. “He was mean and sexist, if anyone is unprofessional it’s him. You are amazing at what you do, you are smart and kind and everyone who meets you loves you. You’re safe, for everyone. Victims especially. Not everyone has that about them” He said.

It was true, when working cases victims gravitated towards you and your comfort and kindness, if there was someone to trust it was you. Kids and witnesses were always more inclined to talk to you than anyone else on the team because there was something so sweet and welcoming and safe about you.

“You do” You said, tilting your head a little as you looked up at Spencer. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion as to what you meant, but his heart skipped a beat anyways.

“You have that something safe about you.” You said, noticing the confusion that covered his features. His heart warmed and ached all at once. Spencer was glad, so so so glad that you found him safe, that he was able to make you feel that way — Honestly he was happy he had any effect on you whatsoever.

“You think so?” He asked, voice a little quieter as he held your gaze. He was scared that if he spoke any louder he may break the fragile moment. You nodded, a small smile on your face, a real smile.

“Mhm, I think thats why I got so comfortable with you so quickly. You’re so.. safe, and smart i think i trust anything you say so please don’t lie to me because that would end really badly for me, and probably give me trust issues and then i will never trust anyone again — and well thats just not good” You rambled out dramatically. Spencer’s smile widened for a series of reasons.

“I would never lie to you.” He said gently, voice carrying a hint of something more, honesty and truth and so much longing it was almost embarrassing, he hoped you missed the way his voice went up an octave.

“Okay good.” You smiled.

Your gaze lingered on Spencer’s for a moment before you turned your head away. He felt like the room had gotten too warm, he had to refrain from the urge to loosen his tie and rub the sweat away from his forehead.

“Did you like the book?” You asked, fingertips grazing over the folder of the case file you were supposed to be reading. Spencer’s eyes followed the movement of your hand before returning to the side of your face.

He nodded, mind going back to the words highlighted in blue and suddenly the room really was too warm, he could feel his palms growing disgustingly sweaty. “I loved it, actually.” Much less because of the context of the story and moreso because you had gifted it to him.

You shook your head as you lifted it to look at him, a smile playing on your lips. He was glad that was back, the sweet genuine smile on your face that could probably drown out any bad day.

“Im gonna be honest, I hate annotating books. I think pages should be left undrawn on, and crisp and beautiful but you like annotating books so i figured.. Um.. That it was a good way to tell you how I felt” You mumbled out, and Spencer was both insanely fond of you going out of your way to do something you disliked for him, and also immensely confused by what you meant.

“How you felt?” He furrowed his eyebrows and he watched as your face went through series of expressions before your eyes widened and your lips parted.

“Oh!” You huffed out, realising he had not understood what you were trying to do and you were now giving yourself away massively. “Oh thats— Really embarrassing actually.” You said as you smiled anyways, bringing your hands up to press against your flush cheeks to try and sooth the warmth.

His eyebrows pinched together as he sat up a little straighter, “No- What? What do you mean?” He asked, he found it sweet what you had highlighted and he didn’t see at all how that was embarrassing, or something he should be making a big deal out of.

You huffed out a laugh, “You’re smart Spencer, and a profiler. Im sure you can figure it out.” You said sweetly before pushing your chair out from the table, standing up. He wanted to reach out but he was stuck trying to figure out what the heck you meant.

“Im going to go get coffee.. Do you want some?” You asked, obviously relishing in his current confusion and obliviousness in order to get yourself out of this all too embarrassing situation if it ended in some sort of rejection you were buying yourself time.

“Um- What? No, No thank you” He answered confused, obviously his mind fixated on what you meant, on what he was missing and trying to figure it out.

You let out a laugh, “You’re sweet.” Before you left the room to get yourself coffee. Spencer’s cheeks warmed instantly at your compliment and if you had stayed longer he might’ve built the courage to argue how insanely ironic it was coming from you.

Instead, he sat confused. His mind going over the two lines highlighted in blue in the book you had gifted him, trying to understand how they referenced how you felt. He made you smile, that was good, he understood that.

But you always smiled. It didn’t take a lot to make you smile so how was that the big confession? Was there some context he was missing. Then he remembered the part of the story the line came from, a love confession. The context of the sentences used.

And suddenly he realised despite his iq, and being a literal genius, he was the biggest idiot on earth.

[mygnolia]

LOVE ON A FRESH SLATE ༄ TEASER

༄ SYNOPSIS -› Sim Jaeyun might not have many critically acclaimed films in his IMBD, but if there’s something to change that, it’s his upcoming film, ‘diving in love,’ a fresh summer romance that’s caught the attention of everyone on the internet. The only problem is, no one believes the chemistry will be up to rom-com standards. Maybe he’ll save his career by fake dating his cold-hearted co-star, aka you, to sell it?

༄ PAIR -› actor!sim jaeyun x fem actress!reader

༄ GENRE -› fluff, banter, angst, comfort ༄ TROPES -› enemies to lovers, heavy on the fake dating (i LOVE fake dating) ༄ WC -› estimated 15-20k idk lolz

༄ INCLUDES -› will be added!

༄ RELEASE DATE -› november!

༄ REN SAYS... me when summer also haha get it slate cuz they're actors but also it's e2l so misunderstandings heheheh am i funny (im not) | LIBRARY

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“You’re going to tell me you signed me up for the cult of Scientology, I assume,” You introduce yourself, shaking hands with the man next to Sunoo. 

Once again, there is just one empty seat before Jake Sim walks in, out of breath. “Jungwon, please don’t tell me–” He notices you after he barges in, taking in your poised manner as you wait for him to continue. But he doesn’t. The words die on his tongue when he sees you and the same manager from last week's meeting. 

“Please don’t tell me what?” Jungwon asks, raising an eyebrow as Jake sinks into the only chair left. The latter shakes his head, not wanting to elaborate any further. 

Sunoo sits up, putting his hands together after he finishes the last sip of his drink. “Open up the files, ____.” He motions to the manila folder on the table, and with much confusion, you peel back the cover to find a neat stack of black and white articles. 

Jungwon, who you can only assume is Jake’s manager, gets Jake to lean in and read what’s on the pages. “This,” he starts, spreading out the rest of the articles, “is every article in the past week with a negative outlook on whether or not the film will be up to par with the standards of the 2000’s.”

You scoff, eyes trailing over an article with your face as the cover. “Really? People hate me that much?” Your dry humor really only resonates with Sunoo, who sends you a look before trying to organize the flurry of papers.

“I doubt they’ll keep going,” Jake tries, fidgeting with his ring. Maybe his second rich person problem was figuring out how to get the media to like him again if the movie turns into a failure and he has to scour for another source of income. 

“Unless I solve world hunger, I doubt the media will turn away from the wine scandal any time soon.” Jake considers dropping out and cutting his losses early with the way you comment on your impending future. 

Jake’s manager shakes his head, closing the manila folder and essentially blocking it out before coming up with the worst possible plan in existence. 

“You two can fake date. Then, no one will question your chemistry, because they’ll think you’re in love.” 

There were only so many things you refused to do in your lifetime, but fake dating your co-star made it to the top of your list in record time. 

You shook your head. “Absolutely not.” At least Jake could agree with one thing you said. 

The silence almost turns awkward before Sunoo speaks up in agreement, ignoring you. “I like it, it’ll give them a chance to pretend to bond more. Plus, they’re both young and attractive, and Jake is a change of pace from all of her shitty ex-boyfriends.” If Jake still wanted to jump off a building after hearing their proposition, you’d unknowingly want to join him. 

You cough in your arm, hiding the embarrassment of his last comment before nodding to look at the actor. “You think just because I’m dating someone, it’ll make the movie more watchable?” 

Sunoo rolls his eyes. “I’d much rather watch a rom-com if it was confirmed that the actors found love on set. It’s a good story.” 

Jungwon interjects. “Good publicity.” 

The actor beside you finally speaks up. “And you want to start this arrangement…when?” 

“As soon as possible,” your manager answers, and his response might be some of the worst news you’ve heard in a while. “Hear me out, ‘____ ____ and Jake Sim falling in love the moment they’re casted. It’s fate. They’ve been in love since the beginning. I have to see it, their chemistry will be so good.’ ”

Before you nor Jake are able to come up with a rebuttal, Jungwon adds, “I know both of you can act, and even despite this fake relationship, the movie will be good. But if you can get away from the negative thoughts surrounding the film’s pre-release, it’ll generate so much more hype around it.” 

“Better for your conscience, ____. You don’t need angry Sunghoon fans sending you anymore death threats.” If Sunoo kept airing out your problems like that, you’d drag him out by the ear without any fake boyfriend in tow.

You really think about it, questioning if one PR stunt could get you out of the nepo baby ditch you’ve been trying to fight for years; it wasn’t even that you were bad at your job, your mother just never had anything nice to say to anyone. If anything, she was Hollywood’s actual mean girl.

“Fine.” You agree begrudgingly. 

Jake on the other hand has no idea what he’s getting out of this. How does fake-dating a girl he’s never liked help his reputation at all?

Maybe it’s because he couldn’t find an answer to it, or maybe Jake was comfortable enough asking something so brash in public. “What the hell do I get out of it?” 

You lean back in surprise, not used to hearing him so flustered by something. It was all your fault, Jake thinks as he once again pulls at his hair. 

The room is silent as everyone’s gears turn. Jake puts his hands on both sides of the armchair, about to get up and pretend this failure of a ruse ever existed. “If there’s nothing, I’m-”

“Wait,” you cut him off, eyes still fixed on something as you think. It’s good for you, and mainly you. Jake has a good reputation, people love natural chemistry and love a cute couple even more, and your name would be in summer-y titles for the next two months if your scheme worked out. But him? 

What could Jake Sim possibly want? 

“You want money? Connections? An interview with Justin Beiber?” You try, spewing what every boy would want when they were 13. 

Somehow, his head perks up when he hears his favorite celebrity’s name from your lips. 

“You could do that?” He asks, bewildered. 

“I thought you hated me for having a famous mom.” He stays silent. 

“Look, you’re up and coming. If this movie does well, I’ll send a letter to the top producers in the industry and tell them about how stunning of a performance you gave.” 

It’s a deal that’s extremely hard to pass on–hell, he’s literally getting paid to act in the movie anyways, so it’s not like he loses much if he says yes. But you’re snarky, and although you’re not outright rude, you never seem to be excited for anything, and Jake has no idea why the mood is so sour when he’s with you.

Whatever, it’s not like it’s real, anyways.  

Jake shrugs and pinches his nose bridge momentarily before sighing. “Where do I sign?” 

You thought that Jake had been oblivious to the whole thing as much as you were, but it seems like he knew about a hidden contract. Jungwon fishes out a crisp white sheet of paper from his bag. “You know me so well, and I didn’t even tell you anything,” and his response has you thinking that maybe the actor just knows his manager well. 

Suddenly, the next year of your love life is signed and tucked away into two identical copies for Jungwon and Sunoo, before the two shake hands and smile. “I’m excited for how things will go,” your manager comments before you two leave. 

The moment the door shuts behind you, you let out a long exhale, suddenly finding interest in your manicure. 

“You’re annoying, Sunoo. But I don’t doubt you.” 

The boy smiles and links arms with you, walking to the entrance of the studio building before you both catch wind of the paparazzi. 

A swarm of reporters and cameras catch your casual outfit and sunglasses when you emerge with your manager behind you. Questions bombard you, and you hear amongst the commotion a few reporters who are desperate for their next article to feature you. ‘Is it true that you’ve hated Sunghoon for years?’ ‘What do you have to say about your new film?’ ‘Do you have anything to say about Jake Sim?’ 

You pause momentarily on the way to your car, reconsidering if you should answer any question. “Me and Sunghoon have never had a disagreement, and I know he appreciated the Prada we sent him a few weeks ago.” Smiling at the memory, you choose to answer a few more questions before you have to go. “As for the new film? I’m fairly excited. Me and my boyfriend are more than ready to be filmed together." 

The gasps from the crowd leave you content as you slip into your car with Sunoo. “But don’t tell anyone I’m dating!” You yell out for good measure, knowing that by morning, everything will have changed.

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[csainz5]

hello! i saw your requests were open and wanted to pop in! i have a bit of a weird? idk request, where it’s like max verstappen x reader first where it ends with angst, and then she ends w carlos endgame?? maybe a whole lotta lover boy feels from carlos and ‘oh i fucked up something great’ feels from max, like essentially carlos that has been silently lining throughout readers relationship w max too?? i’m so sorry if this confused you! i loved ur previous carlos sainz fic!! 🤍🤍

BLOOD FLOWS RED

genre: fluff; light smut

pairing: bestfriend!max x reader; carlos x reader

summary: max constantly fucking up comes in no better time for carlos.

word count: 3.7k (my longest fic so far 💀)

warnings: angst, slight loverboy feels from max if you squint. voyeur max? not really but kinda ig and no beta we die like the ferrari fans we are 🫡 google translate ass spanish, forgive me 😞🫶

author notes: OMG ANON YOU ARE A GENIUS!!! I LOVED THIS REQUEST AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT. but small change tho, max x reader isn’t rlly like a proper relationship. anyways, hope u guys enjoy 😘😘😘

you were both 10 when you first met. your parents had been friends for a while by then, and they decided that they would place you and max in the same school. the two of you instantly kicked it off. it was like you guys were meant to be friends. you always shared the same opinions, the same preferences and all.

school with max was fun. the best, infact. the both of you hit it off well since the first time you met and had been inseperable (and insufferable) since. it was practically known to everyone that if max were to take a seat, the one beside it instantly belonged to you. you two had different friend circles, yes. But you were definitely each others best friend regardless.

highschool. highschool was a turning point in your friendship. although it was still as magical as it was, max’s attention at that time drifted between girls and racing. the former, burnt your heart with jealousy. everytime he ditched plans with you for his new girlfriend, you secretly prayed to god they would break up so you could have him all to yourself. The latter however, you didnt mind so much. you were always a fan of racing, and it only bought you two closer. you still remember go karting with max like it was yesterday. even if he was always the one to win, you weren’t too far behind, always coming it right after him. your deepest secrets, your highs and lows, your intrests, and everything about you was known to max, and max only. everyone would see you with him all the time, so no guys would ever approach you in school. Its not like you really minded it though, because max’s girlfriends only ever lasted two weeks at the most, and you guys would find your way back to each other.

You found solace in the unwavering friendship you shared with Max . Growing up together, navigating the twists and turns of life side by side, your bond evolved into something deeper over the years. You were always hopelessly in love with Max, but you concealed your feelings, afraid of risking the precious friendship you had cherished oh so much. Everyone but max could see it. I mean how couldnt they? you were always like a lost puppy around the paddock, finding your way to max. Much like your races, you would always find your way right behind him. it was clear in the way you looked at him, with stars in your eyes. How your voice went slightly higher when you were around him. How you relax when you’re with him. How you’re the loudest person during a race, always screaming his name as he raced by. Everyone felt sorry for you, really. Because in return to all of your affections was nothing but a cold and stoic response. Don’t get me wrong, Max definitely loved spending time with you, probably moreso than anyone else, but it was nothing in comparison to your admiration for him.

Afterall, in the world of Formula 1, where speed and competition reigned supreme, there was so space for screw ups. you needed to work hard for what you want and you needed to be cunning. and for max, nothing was as important as winning this year’s championship and more to come, so you’ve become used to his behaviour. he was quick, ruthless and on the top, and he wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of his success. so even though it stung when you could see how little you mattered to him over the sport, you convinced yourself it was okay. Because this was max’s dream since he was little, and whats a wish to date a boy over a pursuit for the championship but a speck of dust.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you watched Max prepare for yet another exhilarating race. Your heart raced in sync with the roaring engines, anticipation filling the air. Deep down, you yearned for Max to realize the depths of your affection, but maybe it was too much to ask for, you think. He was always too caught up in his relentless pursuit of victory. Everyone saw it, even the rugged and striking driver of ferrari, with the number 55 adorned on his red suit.

Max insisted you leave him alone for a moment, so he could gather his thoughts before the race. “Are you sure, max?” “please, just go” reluctantly, you agreed and went into the paddock club. you settle into the couch and wallow to yourself. you just wanted to be there with him so you could calm his nerves, why was he acting unlike himself? you gather that recently this is all thats been happening. you always go behind him, wanting to be with him at all times, hoping to be the centre of his attention, but he stands like a stonewall. you’ve grown tired of it really. But come on, you knew you would find your way back to him again. You were infact in love with him since you knew what love was, weren’t you?

You get startled when a hand waves in front of your face “helloo?” “oh my god im so sorry” “no worries” he shoots you a cheeky smile. “did you need anything carlos?” “nothing, i just wanted to ask if i could sit by you” “yeah ofcourse, you didnt need to ask” honestly, this was the most you’ve ever spoken with carlos, so you were confused by his sudden intrest in you. but really, it wasn’t sudden at all. too absorbed into the grumpy redbull driver, you never noticed a tall figure clad in red lurk behind you two. He had seen it all. His eyes burned with rage everytime he saw you with max. What did he ever do to deserve you?

“Carlos? mate where the hell were you? you need to come to the garage, hurry up” charles says, appearing out of thin air “i’ll see you later, okay?” “Bye sainz” Looking back at you, carlos runs away behind the monagasque. you smile to yourself at the sudden attention from carlos. Atleast he distracted you, right?

yeah right. your nerves were all over the place the second the red lights blinked, and the race began. max was so off his game today, whats wrong with him? he was so far behind this race that even the alfa romeo cars had been ahead of him. it was his first race lately where he was behind a ferrari for once. you felt your heart thump as you wince, you know how much shit redbull & max’s father give him on the offchance that he isnt the best in the game. he didn’t deserve it, you think. he doesn’t deserve the shit they put him through. since this was the start of the season, everyone was very anticipated to see the result, to see who is going to be this years leading drivers.

you catch your eyes drifting towards one specific car though, and its not the redbull one you’ve always got your eyes on. the person leading the first race of the season happens to be the man that youve last talked to. carlos. you hold your breath, and blink for just a moment and there you see it, carlos gets the pole position. you dont know whether to be happy or not, a feeling you’re unfamiliar with makes your gut twinge. were you happy with the results? as much as you’d like to convince yourself otherwise, it was true. for some reason carlos winning made you feel proud, but in a split second you turn your eyes back to the circuit. max had gotten p7.

it was the night of that day that max had seen you under a different light. your look for the party had caught the eyes of everyone there, and unfortunately for max, even the eyes of a certain latino were set on you. Carlos was the first person you noticed the moment you stepped into the club. the ferrari pair had rented out the entire club for that night, celebrating their p1 & p2 standings. you instinctively go towards Carlos, talking him up about his big win. “Sainz, that overtake on lap 35? Blew my mind.” “you must’ve been attentive on me to catch that” he jokes, his chest rumbling with laughter. “oh come on everyone’s talking about it” “maybe. but so are you, and thats not very common” “I give credit where credit is due, what can i say?” you giggle, taking a flute of champagne. “hey, how come you aren’t with max? i ask only because this is the first time you’ve come outside that circle” he asks, slightly avoiding eye contact with you. “well, i guess you could say i just found someone more worthy of my time” “Oh..?” clearly amused with your answer, carlos decided that he’s not going to let you leave his side. He had a taste of it, and he knew he couldn’t let go just yet.

2 drinks become 4, and 4 drinks become 8 when you decide that you are done being the quiet girl behind max. you think that it’s time that you let go, live the moment for yourself, and yourself only. okay, and maybe Carlos too. conversations with him were just so light and breezy, you didnt have to hold yourself back hoping you’d be molded into the kind of girl he wants. it was obvious that he was interested in you as is. “Carlos” “yes, cariño?” “How come ive never spoken to you before?” “You know, actually you have” he wasn’t wrong, but that was just small talk at events. This? This was different. you knew it. He knew it. “No, no i mean like.. this” you say, speech slurred, hand reaching to brush his hair. “You’re driving me crazy, mi vida” he chokes out, eyes closed and a sigh escaping his lips. “Carlos..” you feel like you cant breath as you say, “Help me forget him” by this point of your conversation you had realised that he did, infact notice things about you. Maybe even in a way no one else did. you raise your eyes to meet his and you lose yourself in their charm. his brown eyes with specks of gold drew you in more than you’d like to admit. “Hermosa, when you have me,” he raises your chin up “You will be sober when you have me, and you wont be forgetting it any time soon”wind gets caught up in your throat at his bold statement.

“Come on, let loose carlos join me!!” by this point it was the alcohol talking, not you. “okay okay how about we get you home now?” “oh shut up im just getting started” “no you’re not, come with me” carlos says as he throws your arm around his shoulder to support you. “fuck, is she okay man? i can take her to her house just leave her with me” max say’s, finally emerging after eyeing you both all night. “don’t hold your breath mate, she’s going home with me”

you wake up the next morning with the worst headache, which only gets worse when you realise you can’t recognise the room you’re in and the clothes you’re wearing aren’t yours. you shoot your head up as you hear the door open. Carlos? wait a second. did you and he..? “Carlos, did we—“ “Did you want us to?” “Oh my god. OH MY GOD??” “Calm down im just messing with you, no we didn’t do anything. i just had to change your clothes because you puked all over them” this was so embarrassing you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“im so sorry, i really am. i didnt think i would let go that much yesterday.” “Don’t worry, i had fun. plus its nice seeing you not be so timid” your cheeks flush at his compliment. Fuck. i abandoned max yesterday, you thought, booking a cab to his house as you pack your stuff. “Youre not seriously booking a cab right now, are you?” “Not all of us come from Generational wealth, Carlos” you say, hoping you get connected to a driver as soon as possible. “No, no. you’re coming with me.” he says, taking his car keys and showing you the way to the garage. The moment you arrive at max’s house, you see an unfamiliar pair of heels by his shoes.

you knock on the door “Max?” No answer.“Max??” no answer yet again. you use your keys to open the door. “I didn’t expect you to come at this time” he says, his hand over a girl who you barely recognise’s shoulder. “Who’s this, max?” “It doesn’t matter, she was just about to leave” the woman looks confused but exits, mumbling something to max as she leaves. “Whos that, your conquest of the week?” you ask the second you hear the door click. “Why do you care? you must’ve had fun whoring out with the ferrari boys yesterday anyways.” He didnt mean for it to sound as harsh as it did, but what was done was done. Seriously? “Fuck you max. i’ve always been with you every second of every day and you don’t appreciate me for a moment. you constantly ditch me for these random fucking girls who you know are just with you because you’re in redbull. And i let myself go for one night. One fucking night and you’re on my back calling me a whore? you know what? i am tired. i am done with your bullshit. Maybe ferrari is better after all, huh?”

“You don’t understand my point” “what point max? what fucking point? Are you blind or do you just convince yourself to ignore the fact that ive been in love with you since we started talking? Do you know how much it hurt me to walk in your shadow all these years hoping you would notice that i was there for you? to notice that i was the one for you?” “You love me?” he sounds heartbroken saying it, but you’re on an adrenaline rush and don’t take note of it. you could feel your feelings for him fading more and more as you spoke your feelings out to max. “No. not anymore.” “Fuck. i never- i never thought, fuck.” “guess you just realised it too late mate” a voice speaks up behind you. “Lets go back, i cant stand to see his face.” you spit, with venom lacing your words as they sunk into max’s heart like a dagger.

After the incident with max, You realised that the night with the ferrari driver would be the start of something much, much bigger than you had expected. somewhere in between the races the 33 on your shirts slowly turned into 55. You didnt have to tell max you’ve moved on, it was clear as day. Carlos had gifted you a bracelet, a custom cartier one with the initials c.s adorned by a small pendant of a chili. everyone on the paddock could see that max was history to you. By this point it was also famously known that you had become Carlos’s girl. you didn’t mind the chatter though, you were so happy with carlos, he made you feel things that no one had been able to make you feel. he was gentle, and understanding. But at the same time, he knew exactly how to treat you, and the fact that you liked to be treated a little rough, once in a while, and he played it like a charm.

Your situationship with him was quick to blossom into a relationship, the best one you’ve ever been in. Days with Carlos were magical. he was crazy for you, as were you for him. you were so used to people stepping all over you that carlos treating you the way you deserved to be treated caught you off gaurd at times, but you grew attached to that quality of him. he made sure that he was the best man for you, and that you were treated exactly how you deserved to be. you noticed that you didnt even ask him for anything, he miraculously knew exactly what you wanted, and he delivered seamlessly. You had drifted significantly from max, but you didn’t mind anymore. Carlos was the only one for you and there were no doubts about it.

This particular morning was that of the emilia- romagnia grand prix, with you by the ferrari garage with carlos. everyone there had become used to you at this point, charles and some of the engineers becoming some of your best mates. Right now you were in carlos’s room, sitting on the bed as you watched him get ready. it was a home race for the ferrari boys. “What?” carlos talks over the phone, clearly upset with whatever he’s heard. you sit up straighter at his sudden change in demeanour. “Fuck. guess there’s nothing we can do huh?” he says, moments before he hangs up. “It’s canceled. the race is canceled because of a flood.” “What? Im so sorry to hear that Carlos, i know how much this race means to you.” you say, walking up to him and fixing up his shirt.

“Is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” memories of that night rush back into your head. you take in a sharp breath remember what carlos told you that day. “I’m sober now” “You remember that?” he looks into your eyes, his own shifting into a darker look. “I couldn’t for a moment forget it” you pull his collar in towards yourself “you little minx, me estás matando” “Lets see if you’re a man of your word, sainz” you dare to say. “you’re gonna wish you never challenged me, hermosa.”

His lips crash against yours as he pulls you up to jump onto him, legs wrapped around him as you take him in, in all his glory. your brain becomes foggy, and a thousand diffrent scenarios run around your head and at once, the all stop, Leaving your head a blank space. you run your hands through his hair, breathless. he walks you both over to the bed, his lips never leaving yours as unsaid words get conveyed to you. i want you. he gently places you on the bed, getting onto his knees.

You pull away from him for a moment, just a moment. you needed to get comfortable into the bed, and even the split second away from him makes you grow impatient. you look down to see him frantically trying to pull your shorts off you. Frustrated, you pull him by his neck back to you, kissing him with a rush you’ve never experienced before. you close your eyes, his wandering hands feeling making you feel sensitive all over. even a harmless rub against your thigh ticks you off. the whimper youve been suppressing comes out into the kiss, making Carlos feel as though he was losing his mind. he couldn’t take it anymore. he wanted you, he wanted you so badly he felt like a teenager about to cum in his pants.

All you wanted was to scream his name, loud enough for the entire hotel to hear, and he, wanted to listen to them on repeat like they were the best musical piece ever created. he was drunk on lust. “Can i?” you nod with all your might, you couldn’t handle it anymore. “Use your words, mi amor” “Yes, yes. please i want it so bad carlos, please.” “God, you sound so angelic begging for me right now.” Just as he was about to take off his top, the two of you hear a series of knocks on your door.

“Are you in here? its max” “Why is he here?” just as you were about to cuss him out, carlos signals you that hes got it covered. He picks you up, making you put your legs over his torso again. “Carlos? what are you-“ he shushes you, a finger falling over your swollen lips. just as you reach the room door, he clashes his lip’s against yours again. he slowly takes off the lock on the door, leaving max to think he can come in.

max is greeted by the two of you feverishly making out as he opens the door. you and carlos pay him no mind though, as if you couldn’t even see him. “Fuck you guys” He shouts as he bangs the door on his way out.

[voidbeomgyu]

ALONE (Teaser)

In which you meet your bias in the worst circumstances.

PAIRING Idol Jake Sim x Fan Fem Reader

GENRE Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Slow Burn, Romance/Strangers to Lovers, Suggestive (Maybe smut, not sure yet.), some fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MDNI, Descriptions of violence, death, blood, etc., All members except Jake died so keep that in mind (I'm sorry), Cursing, Crimes, Mental health talk and experiences, Death, Sickness (Throwing up), Making out, Smut(?), It's an apocalypse!au idk how else to warn about that LOL

SUMMARY The group Enhypen get on a plane to the US and when landing are met with the worst. Jake makes it out alive... but alone. Since the dead are attracted to areas where the population is saturated, your best bet is to stay low in the areas usually considered dangerous (alleyways, abandoned buildings, etc). He made his way into the country and found a nice cabin alongside a lake. His further inspection led him to believe it was abandoned for whatever reason, maybe it was a vacation home? Little did he know his inference was correct, and soon he was met face to face with a member of the family who owned it. How would she react to seeing her favorite artist rummaging through the cupboards of her new--hopefully permanent--home? And how would he be able to explain to a loyal fan of his that he was the only member left?

TEASER WORD COUNT 1,625

RELEASE DATE To be determined.

TAGLIST Comment on this post or send an ask to be added. (Have your age on your profile or you will not be tagged)

Endless walking while trying to find a suitable place to stay was slowly driving Jake insane. The exhaustion from travelling, fear of death, and anguish from the scene at the airport was weighing down on him heavier and heavier every second. Having watched his best friends, his brothers, his family all being taken away from him without being able to do anything but listen to the oldest’s words, “Run”.

Jake had not yet cried, there was no time for it. It’s been almost thirty six hours since then, he’d stolen a bike around a mile away from the airport. It’s helped him a lot on his journey to safety. He never stole, he wasn’t like that, not that type of person. But in the moment he didn’t have the time nor energy to feel guilty about it. 

Jake didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he wanted quiet. Not knowing wether or not it’ll be safer in the city or the country side, he chose the latter. Cities are crowded with people, meaning they must be crowded with the dead by now, right? No matter; either way he knew he’d feel much better being in the middle of nowhere, or at least in the middle of what looked like nowhere. All alone in an abandoned farm house, maybe a lake house, any house on the country side would do. He was being too optimistic, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Finding a safe home to live in alone with no one around for miles sounded comforting.

The Jake from two days ago would’ve shivered at the thought of being completely alone. Though no extrovert, he needed people. He needed that connection, that interaction. His reasons to smile and laugh were mostly based around the people around him or the entertainment he consumed. Entertainment was out of the question now, and it seemed like people were too. Most dead, and others probably too violent to give Jake a chance due to the circumstances. 

All he held on him was his and Sunghoon’s carry-on bag from the flight. Note to self, don’t try to save your friend by holding onto their bag. Thoughts like this crossed his mind every few minutes, tragedies sentenced as jokes but he wasn’t laughing. What’s wrong with me? How could I think something like that? Maybe it was the dehydration, starvation, overall fatigue? He hadn’t eaten anything since the flight and was savoring the small amount of water he had on him. Either way, thinking of his beloved friends didn’t do much to help his mood. Trying to think of the good times? Those good times will never happen again, they’re gone forever and I’ll never get them back.  

More days passed like this. With a stop at a gas station probably being the reason he’s even alive right now. It was abandoned, for the most part. It was the early morning, and he was literally starving now. The cashier was still there, but his neck was chained so tightly to the wall that it was on the edge of ripping his head clean off. Oh, he was a living corpse too. Jake could tell that much by just looking at him, muffled grunts and groans coming from the pale body every minute. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care much of Jake’s criminal activities there. Stuffing whatever foods and drinks he could into the bags he had on him. They were even heavier now, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb to all feeling, mentally and physically. 

At day four he had started keeping track of how many days passed with a calendar he found on the wall of the gas station that morning. He didn’t stay there though, he didn’t have it in him to kill the cashier, and he knew that if he somehow got loose while he was sleeping it would all be over. The past few days he hadn’t slept or rested much at all actually. Napping for at most an hour at a time, waking up to the slightest noises and scurries of nearby wildlife. He knows he’s incredibly lucky to not have encountered any of the dead, besides the one at the gas station, but it’s a little stressful to not have seen any either. Where could they all be? He had made it out of the city, the once bustling streets on day two, he knew many people weren’t out here to begin with. But knowing there are creatures that could kill him in seconds lurking while having no idea where they are was terrifying. 

It’s been six days. His legs started feeling numb just hours after finding his bike due to the frantic pedaling, now he felt like his legs were asleep all the time. The feeling of pins and needles covered his lower body as they worked on auto pilot to keep him going. His back felt horrible, slouched from his broken spirit. Endless cramping and soreness of his hands and fingers from gripping the bikes handles for hours at a time. His knuckles were white, and now so was his once tanned and alive skin. 

His lack of proper meals, sleep, and rest was now obvious. Jake hasn’t seen himself since that day in the airport, but from looking at his now thinner, paler, vein visible arms, he could take a guess at what his face looked like. Hell, he could feel the bags under his eyes whenever he blinked now. 

It’s been quiet and empty for a few miles. Nothing but grass, and a dirt trail he’s been following in sight. How long is this damn trail? he thought. Jake started following the trail at the sunset of day five; he remembers because of his calendar. It was coming to the end of day six, the sun starting to set in the distance behind him. He found a flashlight at the gas station and used it to find himself a place to “rest” for the nights he faced, it neared the time to find a spot to sleep.

Trees were all around him now, the area looked more alive here, not dried out and dead like the miles before. He must be getting close to some sort of building, forest trails usually have a building as a starting point, right? Unless this trail wasn’t made for hikers, in that case he was hoping in vain. 

It was almost completely dark now. Jake had usually found somewhere to stay by this time, but something was telling him to keep going. Using the flashlight to illuminate the shadowed forest, he heard his friends voices cheering him on over and over again. 

“Keep going Jake!”

“Just a little longer!”

“You’ll be okay!”

Tears were unconsciously streaming down his face now, though he still didn’t feel anything. His body just gave up on the effort of keeping them in. 

Jake pedaled faster. He couldn’t hear anything but his heavy panting, it felt like someone had covered his ears with their hands and muted the sound of everything around him. He saw something in the distance, the roof of a building; he padaled faster. A house, the roof made of wood, looked like a cabin; he padaled faster. He could hear the muffled sound of streaming water; he pedaled faster.

Face to face with a cabin, going so fast he couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the wet grass below him. Still struck with adrenaline, he pulled himself up quickly and dragged his bike to the front door. His broken and unused voice sounded through his pants as he tried frantically to open the damned door. 

The door handle had a key hole but was locked with a rusty padlock. He could turn the handle and wriggle the door, that padlock was what he needed to remove. He pulled a hammer out of his bag; he grabbed it from the gas station floor, it was covered in dried blood. Obviously used by someone prior to leaving it there. Jake slammed the hammer into the padlock, over and over again. The loud bangs from striking the lock were null to Jake’s ears, his desperation coating over all his sense. 

Smash. The padlocks body is broken away from its handle and the door is free from it’s hold on the wooden frame. 

Jake shoves his way inside, throwing the bike onto the hard floor of the entry way before turning to lock the door. It was locked from the outside but had a perfectly working lock on the inside, though he didn’t care to question it. He made it, he was safe, he felt like he could faint.

He had no time to think, let alone find a good source of light before he threw up. Keeling on the once clean floor, liquid from his stomach poured out from him. His throat burned and ached at the feeling, like his throat was made of sandpaper. Falling back he sat on the floor, staring at the door and the mess he made on the ground. He laid back and let his eyes rest for the first time in nineteen hours. Jake fell asleep there on the hard floor, knee propped up on the backside of a couch.

If he was thinking clearly, he would’ve checked the entire cabin, then scavenged for any foods that may be there. But he was broken, body and mind. Luck had been on his side since the beginning though. The home was completely vacant before he entered, and when he wakes up he’ll have found himself a place to live in safely. Away from the corpses living in the surrounding cities, and away from any still living people, all alone.

(A/N: Hello friends! I'm finally writing LOL I've had this wip since December and I'm finally going to finish it. This post is just to see if people would even be interested lol. The total fic word count I don't know yet because I haven't finished it, but I am close! I won't give y'all any hints but I will apologize in advance for the angst I'm about to put y'all thru<3 sorry love you guys muah. Don't know exactly when I will publish the full fic, maybe right when I finish it, maybe a month after I finish it IDK I haven't written seriously in months so I'm not too confident anymore but I am excited. Hope y'all are as excited as I am :D )

[nouearth]

autumn reminders.

bruce wayne x male reader.

summary: in the start of autumn, you surprise bruce with lunch because he hasn't been taking care of himself.

wc: 1.3k. warnings: fluff, kinda angst(?), comfort! fic, established relationship, mentions of food, bruce is overworked, he's also horny, worried!reader, touchy!bruce, husband!bruce.

a/n: a short little one-shot because i miss writing for bruce! and autumn is finally here, so i can finally wear my sweaters!! idk, i feel bad for not updating as much, and i also didn't want to only update with smut, lol. but i hope you guys enjoy it! <3 maybe i'll write something about pumpkin spice coffee soon!

the building absorbed the heavy clacks of your suede oxfords as you ambled along the halls. tall windows lined by your side, illuminating you in the afternoon with every step, and occasionally, you’d pause to snap a photo at the autumn vista. it was approaching quick: the cooler weather, the stronger gales, and the changing leaves. while you loved the season most for bringing out your sweaters and coats—most importantly, the autumn season brought in curated festivals, decoration, and your favorite: the autumn menu.

“oh—mister wayne, do you need help with that?” an employee was quick to turn on his heel as you passed by him, but he caught in in four steps, wide-eyed when you turned at the sound of his voice.

“no, it’s all right! figured this would be my punishment for skipping out arm-day!” though you struggled maintaining the weight of several paper bags in your arms and two coffee cups, a smile of assurance and a thumbs up, barely visible in between the grasp of the cup and the height of the bags, reluctantly sent the employee on his way to his duties.

the smile on your face was radiant, much more than a few seconds ago. it’s been almost a year, but it hasn’t gotten old yet—being called mister wayne.

it only took a few more minutes, a fresh bruise to the elbow when you bumped into a wall, and then a scare when you almost dropped your coffee before you were at bruce’s door. before you could put the bags and cups down to open it, it flew open with a confident swing and you jolted from the gentle ambush, hugging the paper bags closer to your body to still the weight.

“why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” the ache in your arms was immediately relieved once you stepped inside bruce’s office, the latter taking a bag for himself and setting it on his coffee table after locking the door closed.

“were you watching the security cameras again?” you followed, setting the other bag next to it, as well as the two coffee cups before then stretching your arms above your head, a pleasurable groan kicking a strum from your throat.

“well, yes—wanted to see if you could make it up here without getting lost.” bruce chuckled, reaching out to firmly squeeze your tense shoulders twice. “but the secretary also told me you were heading up.” you groaned again, at the confession and the aggressive touch, playfully flicking his hands away while you were bent over to disperse the takeout from the paper bags. but bruce persisted with a firmer grasp, massaging your shoulders when he lined behind your figure. 

“you’re kidding! she promised me she wouldn’t!“ the rigid touch of bruce’s hands eventually wandered off into gentle squeezes to your sides, waist, and bottom. your chest rose for a deep inhale, glancing at the locked door as you stood straight again, and then deflated, exhaling, when a single hand found its home on your stomach, warm and heavy on the layers of clothing, only to escape when it took slow dive to the compress of your belt, nudging the sturdy leather with his fingertips.

there was a sudden weight on your left shoulder. he hooked his chin over the narrow muscle to peek over at his hands fiddling with the leather strap, kissing your neck in midst of the fidgeting. “shouldn’t have bought you this—it was easier when you had that cheaper belt.”

“I knew you’d come around to the idea of second-hand clothing!” the surge of veins in your neck as you laughed vibrated against his lips, and bruce joined you in quiet chuckles, his arms holding you tight when he finally unbuckled your belt.

there was a satisfied sound from bruce, sinking into your skin as he continued on kissing your neck, when he removed your belt, and as much as you wanted your husband right now, the ache down south aiding this frustration as it demanded you to ignore the smell of the cooling takeout, your stomach grumbled when the aroma of the sandwiches was resolute and stung your nostrils. the smell of deli meat unfurled in the air to claim its next victim, and the sound of bruce’s stomach groused after.

“lunch first.” you rolled your head back into his shoulders, matching his doting gaze with a smile as you admired his looks for the nth time since you’ve met him. “year is ending soon, so i know you have a lot of late meetings to attend to.”

bruce’s slicked-back hair revealed more of the fine wrinkles on his forehead and emphasized the sharpness of his features. you were embarrassed to admit that upon first meeting him, you were too intimidated by his presence to revel in his beauty like everyone else did. even when you’ve gotten to know him, it had always been his story that had stoned you by his side.

“i know, i’m sorry. I’ll try to come home early, but i can’t promise that.”

now that you’ve read every chapter of his life up to this point, you could finally take the time to appreciate how handsome he was. beyond surface level features, you could allude every small detail on his face to the novel of bruce wayne, down to every page, because you were a part of his life now. your hand cupped his cheek as your thumb laved over his eye-bags, tender in its warm stride. bruce hummed, leaning into your palm and watching you silently as seconds went by.

“don’t apologize! i’ll visit you when you have time, yeah? don’t overwork yourself too. alfred’s been nagging at me to bring you meals, so consider this part of your daily routine now! and you’ve been skipping out on dinner because of—”

it was like he knew what you were about to say, about his double-life as a vigilante. your gaze grew concerning. he had noted how your brows knitted together when you were reluctant to say something, when something had been bothering you. 

when the words caught in your throat, bruce seized the opportunity to kiss your worries away instead. it made him feel better—knew it made you feel better—even if it was temporarily, and he pressed harder into your lips, kissing every corner of flesh until his own worries regarding your safety had briefly perished.

bruce was never good with his words.

he pulled away with a delighted sigh, leaning his forehead onto yours once he turned you back around, and his palms immediately found themselves warming your flushed cheeks. "i'll be okay."

but he was willing to try, for you.

"i have no doubts about that. i just need you to be extra, extra okay." the image of a bloodied bruce months ago still haunted you in your wake, but it only took a gentle press of bruce's palms to reel you back into the haven of his arms.

bruce laughed, and upon noticing that it only raised another level of fret within you, a deeper ribbon threading your eyebrows closer, he pressed the tip of his nose to yours like he did the very first time he held you, and kissed your lips again.

"i'll be extra, extra, extra okay." he assured with your tired murmurs, and you sighed into them as if they were a lullaby, sinking into his arms completely.

your lips danced with his in a slow and calming waltz, and you shuddered when the breeze from the acceleration of your pulse surged though your chest. bruce held you closer to his body, pressing the swell of your heart to his own and puzzling every individual beat until they fused as one, pulsated into one another.

“so, sandwiches, huh? does alfred know that i’m eating terrible? something that isn't from his own hands?"

“not if you tell him, asshole.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

[sohnric]

paris – l. juyeon

pairing: lee juyeon x fem! reader

genre: exchange student! juyeon in paris (ft. his erasmus friends). friends to ???, angst, fluff. actually, the genre is longing. halloween party au but the halloween part plays like,, 0 part in the fic, basically. idk the paris pics did something to me he is so european coded. paris by the 1975 without the drugs in a fic, essentially

warnings: cheating from yn's side, swearing, alcohol, smoking. the reader is canonically french im sorry 💀

word count: 6k

There’s quite a few reasons why Juyeon never told his friends from home about you- the girl he met on his student exchange trip. Some were the cause of Juyeon’s insecurities in himself, some the cause of your relationship status, all the cause of his unrequited love and the way you broke his heart, making Juyeon’s whole memory of Paris a bit hazy and bittersweet and the leave, paradoxically, that much harder. But still– and maybe you’re the reason for it– oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

a/n: do NOT cancel me for being a casual matty healy enjoyer i am a 2014 tumblr girlie at heart

“And where are my gifts? Where are the souvenirs?” Hyunjae calls after the boy that’s still kind of jet lagged from the flight (even though it’s been 3 days since his landing and he slept the whole day after his brother picked him up from the airport), the latter looking at him with tired eyes. 

“That’s all you want from me after not seeing me for 6 months?”

“Yes. Where’s my baguette?” Hyunjae glares, making the younger boy whine at the request.

“I didn’t know you wanted a hard rock baguette from me. If I had known, I would’ve taken one with me and smashed it against your head the moment I arrived here.”

“Well, if it’s authentic,” Hyunjae shrugs, laughing. “I’m just joking… I know we’ve been calling and texting like, every other day, but let me ask again. How was it?”

Juyeon finally smiles at his friend’s question. This is what one expects after coming home from studying abroad for 10 months– not a souvenir request. And trust me, Juyeon did bring gifts, out of the warmth of his own heart, but after being asked for them, he kind of doesn’t want to play Santa anymore. Kind of like when you decide to wash the dishes, but your mum tells you to do it at the same time of your decision– the motivation fades away the mere second you’re requested to do the thing.

“Well, it was good,” he shrugs, “it was… something,” Juyeon says– because how does one fit 10 months of their life into a few sentences without stammering– and before he gets a chance to say anything, Hyunjae catches him off guard with another inquiry.

“Is it true, by the way? Are European girls really prettier?” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at the boy as if to suggest something– but all it does is make Juyeon shrug, acting not really bothered with the question. 

“Dunno,” he hums, “I think it’s equal to here.”

“So you’re telling me you went 10 months without getting laid in France?” Hyunjae gasps, making Juyeon furrow his brows in utter disbelief.

“When did I say that? Or anything that would even suggest that?” 

Now, this was a trap. Juyeon is too gullible. See, Juyeon was pretty transparent with everything during his calls with Hyunjae back when he was in Paris. He told his friends back home all about the European food, the rock-hard french baguettes, the weird looks and annoyed sighs he got when speaking English to the clarks in the shops, the cold showers in his accommodation and the pretty park in front of his university building. They also know all about his friends from Paris– the international students he met in his course like Shotaro from Japan, Bence from Hungary and Marco from Italy– but when the question of girls came around, specifically in the romantic light of things, Juyeon went awfully quiet. You can’t blame Hyunjae for getting into suspicions.

“So you did?” Hyunjae gasps, grasping at the straws.

Juyeon sighs, reaching for his bag. His awfully big hand slips inside of the black backpack, fingers touching various things before he brings out a bunch of gifts: a keychain with the Eiffel tower, some magnets, postcards, a fashionable beret he found in one of the souvenir stores but never saw anyone actually wear in the whole 10 months in the streets of Paris, some perfume and high quality chocolate. Hyunjae’s eyes go wide, making satisfaction swim through Juyeon’s veins at the sight– he managed to deflect the attack.

Sometimes, having materialistic friends is a plus.

As he watches Hyunjae touch all the things on the table, fingers trailing over metal and the shiny wrapping of the dark chocolate with an acknowledging nod, Juyeon takes out another thing out of his bag– his digital camera that he brought along for the ride. He sent his friends a lot of pictures when he was in Paris, and he also posted quite a few on Instagram for everyone to see, but the camera held more memories and more moments than anyone’s ever seen before– it’s a source of treasure for himself as well, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to share a glimpse with his best friend.

“Wanna see? I took tons of pictures, but you can look through only the interesting ones, if you want to,” Juyeon hums, offering the camera to the male, the display already shining at him from the gallery, small icons of all pictures on the SD card in a 3x3 row on the small thing. 

A few pictures of the town are on preview right now, but if you scroll through the gallery, moments of his friend Marco’s birthday party that his friends threw for him, or the snapshots of his friend’s faces come into sight– Juyeon’s sure Hyunjae’s eager to see how all of the people he’s been talking to him about look like.

Hyunjae nods, taking the camera from him and squinting at the little icons. His fingers move along the touch screen and scroll through the gallery, eyes zooming on the interesting ones and grinning as he shows them to Juyeon, awaiting the backstory of a certain image. 

Everything goes well, until Hyunjae gets to the latest pictures on the SD card– well, apart from the ones Juyeon took from the window on his flight home. And Juyeon really doesn’t know what he was thinking, but hey– sometimes he doesn’t think things through as much as he should– and that’s why when a particular photo comes into his best friend’s sight, turning the camera towards Juyeon with a shiteating grin on his face, the question ‘Who’s that?’ makes the poor boy a bit shaken.

His tall figure, standing alongside someone shorter– you, in your vampire costume, fake blood running down the side of your mouth, a hand thrown over his shoulders and your side pressed into his a bit too close as he stares down onto you with an obviously star-struck face, suit covering his body in a poor attempt at Joker’s costume– the moment stares back at him like a haunted memory.

He clears his throat. “That’s… that’s just Y/N.”

Hyunjae hums, having a staring contest with the picture on the screen. The date on the bottom reads 31/10/23, the last day of Juyeon’s stay before he had to go home. “How come I’ve never heard about Y/N?”

“There wasn’t much to say, I guess,” Juyeon shrugs, taking a sip from the bottle of beer on the table.

“Sure…” Hyunjae doubtingly nods, scrunching up his nose in disbelief.

“I’m serious. She’s just a friend I met there,” Juyeon offers, licking his lips in nerves. 

And it’s the truth– you were just a friend and there really wasn’t much to say about you two– so why does Juyeon’s heart hurt a bit as he recognizes the events of the night as if it happened yesterday? Why does he feel nostalgic, maybe a little bitter about the way you two left off? 

Hyunjae doesn’t know, but there’s quite a few reasons why he never heard about you in the first place. Some were the cause of Juyeon’s insecurities in himself, some the cause of your relationship status, all the cause of his unrequited love and the way you broke his heart, making the whole memory of Paris a bit hazy and bittersweet and the leave, paradoxically, that much harder. 

But still– and maybe you’re the reason for it–

oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

31/10/2023

The buzzing of the room makes Juyeon’s already thumping head ache in its crevices, the smell of alcohol in the breath of everyone talking to him only making his stomach twist and turn with acid. He’s had his fair amount of drinks himself, but there is a very faint line between the amount that’s just enough to keep him going through the night and the amount that makes him puke and have a two-week hangover, and with the flight home he has to take tomorrow afternoon, he doesn’t think drinking more would be a good idea.

“Don’t break it!” Juyeon tiredly hurries out as he sees his friend Marco handle his camera, the device almost falling out of the foreign friend’s hands. 

“I won’t! Hold on, let me just–” the Italian mutters, the coating of vodka shots and the cheap red wine (made to look like blood to keep things festive) making his words slur together as he speaks. 

Juyeon reaches towards his drunk friend (while also questioning how he’s going to take a plane back to Italy tomorrow in a very hungover state) and tries to pray the prized possession out of his hands, but comes to a fail as the tall man waves him off with a theatral arm wave, shoving the poor boy towards the white wall and putting the camera up against his own face. “I’ll take your picture! So you can– you only take pictures of us, Juyo,” he rambles on, “I’ll take your picture so you can show it at home to your friends!” Marco grins, having Juyeon aimlessly sigh and stretch out his lips into a fake smile, waiting for his friend to take the picture so he can get his camera back to safety.

“Me too! Me too!” he suddenly hears from somewhere to his right, and before he has the chance to decipher the owner of the female voice, a weight on his shoulder tells him you just jumped at his side– almost topping him over and into the spooky decorations to his right– as you giggle into his ear. “Have it?”

“Aaaalmost!” Marco stretches out as he squints at the camera– and in the spare few seconds before the shutter goes off, Juyeon allows himself to stare down at your figure glued to his side. You’re wearing a dark lipstick on your smile, a drip of fake blood rolling down the side of your mouth. There’s a corset top enveloping your middle and a flowy black skirt only pulling the whole look together even with the absence of fangs– and while you don’t suck out his blood, Lee Juyeon can physically feel how you sucked out all oxygen out of his lungs in your sexy vampire costume. 

He’s seen you around tonight, but he never got the courage to walk up to you. Something about this being his last night in Paris might be the reason why. 

He was simply too bummed out about how things between you and him never went further than fits of laughter in class as you helped him with his French, or friendly hugs when you bid him goodbye at the corner of his street. Maybe it was his own fault for falling for someone so out of his reach. He always knew his stay in France was temporary– hell, he was an exchange student, he was aware of what he was getting himself into– but still, he couldn’t help but recognize the familiar warmth in his stomach whenever you were around and the strange racing of his heart whenever you were close enough for him to smell your shampoo for what it was. He was completely, utterly smitten with you– a french local that would be erased out of his lifestyle as soon as he lands back home in Korea.

The shutter of the camera is all it takes to break his train of thought, making him snap his head back to his Italian friend. A sigh of relief is heard in the room as Juyeon finally reunites with his digital camera (he was surprised to see Marco let go of it so easily), and before he has the chance to think of a conversation topic to indulge in with you, you have his words catching in his throat at your own pace of speech.

“Have you been here for long?” you ask, flattering your eyelashes at him. Juyeon gasps before he presses his lips together into a tight line, shrugging.

“A bit.”

“Why haven’t you said hi?” you frown. “You said it’s your last night! You wouldn’t leave without a goodbye, would you?” you shake your head at him, playfully poking his shoulder with your pointer finger.

He was going to. Not anymore, he guesses.

“No,” he disagrees instead, “I was gonna look for you when it was my turn to leave,” he quickly comes up with an explanation, having your features relax as a warm smile overtakes your pretty features again.

Even with your face all bloody and your eyes having dark circles under them from eyeshadow (and mascara that weared off a little, which you were completely unaware of), Juyeon finds you absolutely, utterly and fascinatingly beautiful. He’s glad no one is able to read his inner monologue– or else he’d be the one with blood running down the side of his face. If the punch to seal the cut would be coming from you or your boyfriend, he’s not quite sure. 

Maybe both. The main thing is, you’re taken and his feelings aren’t reciprocated. 

Which is why his silly crush on you that maybe, just maybe, turned into something more meaningful was that much damaging to his poor soul. 

Because Juyeon swears he never loved anyone before, but after spending the night with you drinking cheap wine in his empty dorm room on his birthday completely alone– since it fell on a Sunday this year and he didn’t have that many friends yet to celebrate with, only having spending 2 weeks in Paris at the time– during which you taught him French swear words and kissed his cheek goodbye (which he thought may be a cultural thing, although he wasn’t sure); after all of this, he felt like you’re the person he’ll think of when someone asks him about his first love when he's old.

And even if he had the balls to do anything about it (which he didn’t), he simply couldn’t. You were out of reach.

“You’d better,” you hum, “or else I’d hitchhike a plane and come over to Korea just to kick your ass.”

“You can’t hitchhike a plane, you weirdo.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. “Of course I can. Watch me.”

Juyeon finds himself grinning at the adorable determination in your voice. It makes him feel a certain type of way that he knows he shouldn’t– but after spending 10 months with the feelings (5 of which you were single, 5 of which you’ve spent dating your boyfriend) and absorbing the idea of leaving you and everything behind tomorrow, Juyeon no longer feels as guilty about the act of loving you. Not anymore– not tonight.

“I like your costume,” Juyeon comments, pointing to the attire you’ve dressed yourself in.

“Really?” your eyes light up. “Look, I even wore the bow my idiot of a boyfriend said looks tacky,” you say, making a little twirl for the man. Your skirt flows nicely in the air and you stumble a bit due to the alcohol in your system, but when Juyeon catches you by your forearms and steadies you, there’s a content smile sitting on your lips despite your previous sentence.

“It looks pretty on you,” Juyeon hums, nodding. “It’s not tacky at all.”

“I always knew you had more taste than him,” you sigh dramatically, making Juyeon question your actions. 

Oh? 

“Anyways, I like your costume as well,” you comment. 

“Thanks,” he says, although his half-assed attempt at a Joker’s costume wasn’t anywhere near your level of preciseness, “Shotaro was supposed to go as Harley to match with me, but he pulled out of it at the last minute,” Juyeon pouts.

“Gosh! That would’ve been fucking amazing,” you laugh, swatting your friend in the arm playfully– the way you always do when you laugh– but as you come down from it, there’s a bitter tone in your voice. “I asked my boyfriend to wear a couple’s costume too, but he said all my costume ideas were lame.”

“Y/N–” Juyeon starts, wanting to speak up about the matter very obviously present in the conversation, wanting to console you, say anything, but you cut him off again– your courtesy– with a shrug and a grin on your face made to mask your true emotions (didn't work. Juyeon knows you too well).

“It’s okay. That’s why I dressed up as a slutty vampire just to spite him,” you say. 

“What’s his costume?” Juyeon asks.

“Not sure. I think he just bought the Scream mask, or something,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the male.

And now, Juyeon was never big on gossip. But if gossiping meant poking fun at your boyfriend, the last night before his plane back home takes off is not the time he’s passing on a snarky comment. “Lame.”

“I’m so glad we are on the same page, Juyo.”

His heart leaps at the nickname– a lot of people call him that, but the tone you say it in, the sweet melody of your voice as you throw it at him like a promise (of everything and nothing at all– you’re fond of him, but never fond enough), only you have this effect on him when you call him that. He wishes he had you saying his name recorded, documented somewhere on his phone, your accent and all, so he could hear you say it when he foolishly misses you in the middle of the night, like he knows he will when he lays awake at home, in his tiny, silent room.

“Do you want to get out for a bit? It’s getting too hot in here,” you say as you wave yourself, hoping to cool off, but failing miserably with the heat created from the bodies swimming through the house, and Juyeon finds himself nodding at your question.

Your feet drag you outside of the house, the cold breeze instantly cooling down your sweaty bodies. You two stand on the front porch together, watching the world around you revolve in a fast, yet slow manner– there are couples making out in the corner of the yard, one of them pressed up against the tree, and friends chasing each other down in zombie costumes, passing by bottles of alcohol between each other. 

Juyeon hears you hum, making him turn his head towards you and see you offering a cigarette to him. He'd never been much of a smoker before, but Europe taught him to never turn down a cigarette when offered, and so he only takes out one out of the pack, watching you mirror his movements. You fish for your lighter in your bra (and Juyeon finds himself too mesmerized to look away during the action), clicking it and putting the flame against the cigarette trapped between his lips.

He doesn’t know what it is about the action that makes his eyes hooded as he watches you– noticing the forgotten speck of glitter from some step of your makeup routine under your eye, making him want to swipe his thumb over it and take it off for you– but he can’t get his gaze off you as he breaths in the smoke, his head going more fuzzy than it has been only a few minutes prior.

When Juyeon’s cigarette is lit, you move to light your own, all while the male watches you with almost a dreamy look on his face. Somehow, he’s glad no one’s watching you. He doesn’t think he would be able to conceal his feelings for you tonight.

“Are you gonna miss this?” you suddenly ask, looking up at him from his right.

You? Absolutely. 

“I think so,” he nods, “it’s a lot different to home, but I made a lot of memories here.”

He watches a hint of smile spreading over your features. “Do you remember when you accidentally told our professor you were horny instead of excited?” you laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” Juyeon laughs at the memory. His French never really got to a perfect level– that’s why most of you settled on speaking English between each other– but the first few weeks were a living hell of a language barrier for Lee Juyeon. “The more concerning part is that this is what made you approach me,” he notes.

“Well, I recognised that you needed help, and I was willing to provide it,” you say, taking a drag out of the cigarette and blowing the smoke into his face.

Juyeon looks at you through the smoke cloud, snickering. “I’m kinda grateful, though. You were the first friend I made here.”

You look at him with a tender look– something so full of care Juyeon swears he feels his stomach doing somersaults– before you press your lips into a solemn smile. “Well, I’m honored, Juyeon Lee,” you drag out in a posh accent, making the boy break out into a laugh.

He takes another drag off the cigarette, inviting the nicotine into his system. Mixed with the alcohol in his veins and your aura surrounding him, he almost feels on cloud 9, like he’s flowing in space and he can’t get down. He watches as you lean over the railing of the porch, forearms meeting with the metal in a set of goosebumps. Breeze flies through the air, making your barely-clothed figure shiver.

He knows he probably shouldn’t. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside, and although you two are seemingly in a weird sort of fight, it’s not his place to act as a gentleman. 

Still, Juyeon finds he has nothing to lose. He shrugs off the suit jacket he’s been wearing and drapes it over your shoulders wordlessly, noticing the way you look back at him over your shoulder with a soft smile on your lips. 

A comforting silence overtakes you two. Juyeon takes the last drag off the cigarette and puts it out on the iron railing, enjoying the effect your sheer presence has on him. The music coming out of inside is only a mere background noise now, providing him an occasional distraction to the buzzing of his own thoughts.

“Say, Juyo,” you start, “do you know where Dorothy lives?” you ask.

Juyeon hums in disagreement. “Don’t think I do. Why?”

“I’m sleeping over at hers tonight,” you mumble, mentioning your best friend– the girl Juyeon’s met plenty of times in the 10 months of knowing you. “I was supposed to stay at Andre’s, but I’m not talking to him right now.”

“Oh,” is all Juyeon says. The mention of your boyfriend always throws him off the track a little.

“I dunno where Dorothy went, but I’m getting kind of sleepy.”

“Why can’t you just go home?” he asks.

“Juyo,” you laugh, “my parents would kill me if I got home tipsy and smelling like cigarette smoke. Don’t you know how they are?” you joke, shaking your head in disbelief.

He doesn’t. He kind of wishes he had the chance to know, though– because if he knew your parents, maybe it would imply something. Signify something more.

“Do you want me to walk you to Dorothy’s?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, lids heavy. Juyeon doesn’t know what time it is, but the last time he checked, it was well past midnight– he doesn’t think he’d stay around much longer himself.

“Okay,” he nods, watching as you slowly peel yourself off the railing and wear his suit jacket properly, the fabric drowning you, but keeping you warm. The sight, the sentiment of it, makes Juyeon’s hands shake and his throat go dry. You’re so close, yet so out of his reach.

Your feet are slow as you march towards the direction of your best friend’s house. Juyeon doesn’t know how far it is, but he wishes for you to take the long way home– if those are the last moments he has with you, he wants to drag the evening out the best he can.

The night is quiet. The only thing ringing in your ears is the sound of your own footsteps, when Juyeon surprises himself with the question that noisily cuts out of his throat.

“Why don’t you break up with him?” he asks.

He expects you to go mad at the question– you were known to have quite the fierce temper. You and Andre have had a few problems in the past: he was known to be reckless with his snarky comments that somehow hurt your pride, his nasty behavior when he got drunk, and the not-so-happy opinion your parents had of him. You were known to blow things out of proportion, screaming, crying and making a scene whenever you could if you thought it was appropriate, known to talk about your conflicts with your friends and digging out opinions out of them on the matter.

Juyeon always made sure to give you lukewarm arguments whenever you asked him about your boyfriend. Never too heated to make himself seem suspicious. Your relationship was none of his business.

Again– tonight, though, he has nothing to lose.

“I dunno,” you shrug, your steps a little uneven on the pavement, “it’s… a matter of habit, maybe? It’s weird,” you say. 

The explanation gives Juyeon just about nothing. A matter of habit? Is it a habit to stay with someone? Was there not more needed for a relationship?

Juyeon doesn’t find it in him to reply. Instead, he lets you talk.

“I think I might love him, or something. I’m not really sure…” you mumble, the sentences breaking Juyeon’s heart a little by little, shattering it right in front of you on the pavement, “because if I didn’t, why else would I put up with all of this?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“All the shaming, the spiteful remarks. The pettiness, the silent treatment… tell me, Juyo, do I have any dignity?” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Y/N…”

The snicker that escapes out of you quickly turns bitter. Your body grows impossibly closer to his, your hands sneaking around his bicep. You walk with linked arms, your head falling to his shoulder. “I don’t think I really love him, though,” you suddenly rebuttal, “‘cause like… I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t tell my grandkids about Andre, y’know? I think that’s the way you know. If you can imagine thinking so fondly about someone that you… that you’d mention them even in 50 years, ‘cause the memories still feel fresh and you’re delighted you once knew them, then…” you trail off, voice fading.

“Do you know what I mean?” you hum, pouting.

He does know.

“Sorry, I’m rambling–”

“No, I get you,” he reassures you, nodding to himself. 

“You always do,” you sigh, breaking Juyeon’s heart into a million pieces, “anyways, with that being said… I think I’m with him only because breaking up is too much of a hassle. And, I think I like the attention,” you splutter, laughing at yourself, “that’s… so desperate of me, I know. I’m starting to doubt if it’s even worth it.”

“He’s not,” Juyeon finds himself saying as you two cross the corner.

“You’re only saying that as my friend.”

“No, I’m saying that as your– as someone who cares…?” he stutters, mentally kicking himself for sounding so readable. Surely, you must’ve already noticed. If not from his current statement, then from the way he looked at you the whole night. You are a smart girl– you were always quick to point out the men that would soon hit on you when you were at the club. You have a good eye when it comes to others.

You only laugh, though. Oh, how Juyeon loves the sound.

“Thank you,” you hum.

You two fall silent for a while. Juyeon finds himself enjoying it. It feels comfortable– to walk with you through the emptied Paris, accompanied by the yellow lampposts and soulless streets. Only you two, your linked arms and his suit jacket around your shoulders.

“We’re at Dorothy’s,” you muse when your steps come to a halt, gesturing towards the silent, dark house on the other side of the street, “I think she’s not home yet, though. Her light would be on.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Juyeon looks from the house and back at you, then back at the seemingly empty house again. “And now what?”

“I have to wait for her,” you shrug, “will you… keep me company?”

You don’t even have to ask. He’d always keep you company. 

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you stand alone in the street in the middle of the night, am I?” he playfully shakes his head in disbelief, but secretly enjoys the fact that he has more time with you before you have to pay each other goodbye.

“Always knew you were a gentleman.”

“Pretty sure that was my middle name,” he notes.

“I thought you said that was ‘handsome’ once?”

“I have two,” he laughs.

“Is that possible?” you tease.

“Of course! Look it up,” he says, turning to you as he talks. “My name’s actually Lee Handsome Gentleman Juyeon, it’s on my ID and everything,” he jokes, watching as your eyes turn into moon crescents and your throat lets out a fit of amused giggles.

Another playful punch to his shoulder. A happy sigh. A shake of your head, full of disbelief. 

“Damn, Juyo. I’ll miss you like crazy, you know?” you suddenly utter, making the boy’s heart fall down into his stomach. The implication of your words sounds a lot like a goodbye, and although he was aware of the fact that he was leaving before, he doesn’t think he really let the reality down on him until now. 

This time tomorrow, there will be no Paris. No Marco. No Shotaro. No Bence. No French locals, no bagels for breakfast, no shitty ass dorm room.

No you.

“I’ll miss you more,” he says. He thinks he’s right.

You’ll miss him like a friend. He’ll miss you like his first love.

You stare at him for a heartbeat. One, two– before you latch onto him, much like when you first met tonight. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close, head resting on his shoulder only when you notice his hands wrapping around your middle. Breathing in your scent, Juyeon focuses very hard to keep his heart rate in check– it’s hard to not falter under your touch when your nose buries itself into his neck, cold skin nuzzling into his hot one, hands squeezing him tighter.

Juyeon doesn’t think you’ve ever hugged him like this before. 

And now, you won’t ever again.

You break away from him only enough to still be in his hold, your forehead resting against his. The new intimacy between the two of you makes him gulp, eyes focused into yours– watching the silver and gold swirl around your irises, counting your eyelashes. Noticing the faint mole on the top of your nose bridge. 

Foolishly letting his eyes dip lower. Memorizing the shape of your lips with his gaze. Taking in a shaky breath when he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape.

“Will you tell your grandkids about Paris?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. Juyeon would almost think you’re suggesting something with your question, but when you speak up again, the suspicion is proved correct. “Will you tell them about me?”

The boy drags his eyes up back to yours. He examines the intention. He finalizes that he has nothing left to lose. 

Tomorrow, this will all be a memory. A moment out of his reach– much like you, all this time. A moment of time he experienced and won’t ever get back.

“I will,” he nods, swallowing. “Will you?”

You smile at the boy, the curve of your lips capturing his attention again. If anyone asked, he’d tell them it’s pure biology– the way his eyes zoomed in on your mouth the moment your expression changed. That’s how attention fluctuates– he learned about it in class somewhere, he’s fairly certain.

Why he’s unable to look back into your eyes after the question is a matter of something else, though.

“I think I might,” you breathe out.

There’s buzzing in his fingertips as he relishes the moment. The sentiment makes his knees weak, his brain fuzzy, his sight blurry and a little hazed. When he finally catches a glimpse of your gaze, he finds it glued to his mouth. 

He could take it as an invitation. 

He won’t, though.

“Kiss me?” you ask, whispering.

He shakes his head in disapproval. “I can’t.” 

Not when you’re taken. Not when he’s aware. Not when he knows you might regret this in the morning.

“Can I kiss you, then?” you ask. 

That, however, is a whole other situation. 

You asked to. You're making the first step. He doesn't have to feel guilty– who cares whether either of you might regret this decision tomorrow.

A simple nod–

that’s all it takes before you lock your lips with his. Your mouths move against each other with a passion he’s contained for his whole stay. You taste like vodka and orange juice, the slickness of your lip gloss making Juyeon’s lips slide against yours with more ease. He kisses you like you’d kiss your first love– with everything in him, with everything he is. 

He kisses you in a way that shows he wants to remember this forever. In a way that makes you lean even closer, pressing up firmly against him as you angle your head to make the kiss deeper. One of your hands moves from behind his head to twist itself deeper into his hair, tugging a little at the root to make the boy gasp under your actions. That has you inviting your tongue into his mouth, eager to taste him, to explore.

Juyeon doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed like this. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so vulnerable, so open while kissing someone. This is him with his heart on a plate, naked and ready to be stabbed, squished by the weight of circumstances breathing onto his back.

His cold fingers move along your sides. Your hands settle on his shoulders to steady yourself, head pulling away to gasp for oxygen.

You look so pretty when he opens his eyes. Lipstick smudged and eyes blown out, hair a little messy from the October wind. He’s like an addict presented with his favorite drug– he can’t get enough, he can’t resist as he chases after you, leaving kisses along your jaw and the corner of your mouth, where the blood is, slowly meeting your lips again in another lock.

Everything else disappears. In this moment, there’s just you, you, you…

No flights. No weight of his own conscience. No boyfriends, no unsaid feelings. 

No regret.

And Juyeon thought he had nothing to lose, but suddenly, with you in his arms, he feels as if he’s being stripped of everything he never even had, only got the glimpse of last minute, a few hours before he’s gone.

You lean away again. Juyeon watches you with big eyes. A smile appears on your face as you move a finger up to his face, cleaning up the side of his mouth off the dark lipstick you’ve imprinted on him. He feels fragile under your touch. One bad move and he breaks, falls apart under you.

“You have to come back to visit one day,” you whisper, cradling the side of his face.

Juyeon nods. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance.

But as you stand on your tippy toes and press a kiss to his forehead, making a million different fireworks erupt in his stomach, he doesn’t let himself think of that (im)possibility. He watches as you smile at him, locking your eyes in a gaze tender and soft, yet electrifying, holding something special.

Before you take off to meet your best friend walking up the other side of the street, you hug him one last time and whisper into his ear.

“Goodbye, Juyo.”

Seeing as you lock your arms with Dorothy, walking up into the silent house and never looking back, Juyeon lets himself feel the last hint of longing for someone he always knew would never be his. And it’s strange, because he hasn’t even left yet, 

but oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

[mrkis]

the way life goes — bonus(pt.2). (n.jm)

PAIRING: na jaemin x reader GENRE: smut, angst, fluff, college au WORD COUNT: 14.3k

SYNOPSIS: you finally get inside jaemin's mind. flashbacks in jaemin's point of view could change everything.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: this is a bonus flashback chapter featuring unseen content from the original parts. jaemin's thought process can come across as confusing and it will remain confusing, he goes through a lot of up and down moments, heavy mentions of panic attacks and anxiety, emotional and lost jaemin, the return of you know who, explicit content, unprotected sex, daddy kink, choking, light make-outs

[series m.list]

— [𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 : 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒]

Jaemin doesn’t know if you know, but he knows you’ve been avoiding him for almost a week. 

You’ve been acting weird since you came back from getting breakfast the other morning, refusing to meet his gaze and even blowing off the promised movie you’d both watch, going straight to bed for a nap with no spoken words. You told him you were tired, that you were too exhausted from sleeping on the sofa and that you just needed your bed, but he didn’t believe that. It was a weak excuse, but he didn’t want to question it, not when he could see you didn’t want to discuss anything further with him. He still followed you though, he even came to nap with you and held you tightly as you slept, just for comfort, just to let you know that he was there for you. 

It irks him a little that you didn’t tell him what was wrong that morning and now with you ignoring him like the plague, he was getting frustrated, maybe even a little annoyed. 

Truthfully, he was starting to get busy with his photography projects, one of his finals coming up soon that desperately needed to be done but he still tried to make time for you. He called you almost every night and, thankfully, you answered a few of them. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t a long phone call, lasting around 10-15 minutes, enough time to get the both of you off whenever you called each other horny. 

Other times he just wanted to talk. He wanted to ask about your day, about your assignments, wanting to know what you’re working on and if you’ve eaten already, but it never happened. Either the call would be cut short due to you yawning or the both of you being too sexually frustrated to hold a full conversation.

You both haven't slept with each other in a week and it’s fair to say that he’s a little desperate, but it's pushed aside by the intense curiosity on why you've been ignoring him. He won't admit that to you though. Not right now. He doesn't want to seem pushy in trying to get inside your head.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do for your final project?” He hears Junghoon ask from beside him and Jaemin shrugs his shoulders, not really caring about the final project this moment in time when he’s got his phone in his hands, bringing up your recent texts. Short and straight to the point, different from how you both usually text. His tongue prods his cheek in anger. “Trouble in paradise, huh?”

Jaemin raises his head and turns to look at Junghoon who’s a little too close to him, the deadpan expression on Jaemin’s face is enough for the latter to slowly move back in his chair, giving Jaemin his respected space with a gulp. He holds intense eye contact with Junghoon before bringing his attention back to his phone, thumbs vigorously tapping against the screen to send you a message.

jaemin: can u come over after classes today jaemin: i want to see u jaemin: i need to see u

you: what abt your photography projects you: i thought u will be busy all week too

jaemin: fuck that. jaemin: i want to be busy with you

you: idk jae..

jaemin: come jaemin: i mean it

“So… is there trouble in paradise?”

“You like to invade people's privacy a lot” Jaemin points out, shutting off his phone and shoving it inside his pocket as he side glances at Junghoon who seems a little offended at his jab. “You’re not good at giving people their personal space, are you?”

“I wouldn’t call it that” Junghoon frowns. “I’m just very intrigued and—”

“Nosey?”

Junghoon jumps straight in to attack, “My life is boring, okay? I’m living vicariously through you right now. You are sadly the only thing that’s entertaining in my life and you’re just going to have to deal with it”

Jaemin’s brows raise in amusement, the corner of his lips twitching as he tries to hide his smile and Junghoon huffs, finding defeat in the lack of Jaemin’s answer as he turns back to his computer, lip jutting out into a pout as he scrolls through his photography files.

This time, Jaemin smiles, hand moving over his mouse and watching the cursor glide across the screen. “There’s no trouble. We’ve just been too busy to see each other lately”

The sound of Junghoon’s chair scraping against the floor makes Jaemin chuckle, seeing Junghoon excitedly move closer in the corner of his eye, leaning on his elbow as he, yet again, invades Jaemin’s personal space but he holds back on any comments this time, allowing Junghoon to have his moment.

“Yeah?” Junghoon grins interestedly. “When was the last time you saw each other?”

“The day after Sunwoo and Yeeun’s party”

“That was almost a week ago” Junghoon gapes, his brows furrowing. Jaemin hums with a nod. “That’s tough… I mean, I’m not even with anyone, but if I wasn’t able to see my girlfriend for—“

“We’re not together” Jaemin cuts in and Junghoon blinks in surprise. “We’re just sleeping together”

“What?” Junghoon whisper-shouts, eyes wide as he leans closer to Jaemin. “With the way you guys were acting at the party, it seemed like you were more than ‘just sleeping together’”

“We’re exclusive” Jaemin adds. “Exclusive friends with benefits. That’s all it is”

“Did you become exclusive before or after that threeway kiss between her, Jeno and Miwoo had?” Junghoon teases, wiggling his brows at Jaemin who looks far less than impressed, narrowing his eyes at Junghoon and lips curling into a grimace to which the latter cackles at. “l’m kidding, dude. Relax…  But this ‘exclusive-friends-with-benefits’ must be pretty serious, huh? I mean… when you and Eunbin—“

“You’re getting a little too personal, Junghoon” Jaemin warns, giving Junghoon a look that makes him cower back slightly, instantly throwing up his hands to say he means no harm but Jaemin’s already triggered, no longer wanting to discuss the topic anymore.

“I didn’t mean it like that” Junghoon frowns apologetically. “I’m sorry, man…”

“It’s fine” Jaemin’s answer is short, lips pressing together in a tight line and Junghoon sighs, pushing his chair back into its original spot as he focusses back on his work, allowing himself to accept Jaemin’s blunt answer of ‘fine’. But it wasn’t fine. It never was fine. 

• • •

“Shit” Jaemin curses at himself, as he stares at the smallest of stains on his sweater from the two iced coffees he’s holding on a tray, having spilt some on himself as he tries to open the front door with his hands full. He manages to do it after a few failed attempts, choosing in using his elbow to push down the door handle and kick it open with his foot before using the same one to close it again, readjusting his camera in one hand and making sure the beverages are stable on the tray as he walks through the house.

He goes to head straight upstairs to wait for you but he comes to a halt when he hears your laugh coming from the kitchen. Jaemin didn’t expect you to be here so early and he can’t stop the smile that spreads across his lips from hearing your laugh, heading straight for the sound but stops in the kitchen doorway when he sees you accompanied by Jeno and Jeno holding your hand. 

His face twists in confusion, watching as Jeno squeezes your hand gently with the most reassuring smiles he has ever seen. His brows pull together as wonders on what Jeno’s reassuring you about, but the way you both laugh together as you pull your hand from Jeno’s and he chases it, that’s when Jaemin can’t help but clear his throat to grab the attention in the room.

Jaemin doesn’t take much notice of Jeno looking at him when he’s got you staring at him. His heart flutters slightly as you make eye contact with him, a weird feeling washing over him that almost makes him feel a little bit uncomfortable, but he decides to welcome it with open arms if it means he gets to be with you today. He’s missed you, more than he’d care to ever admit. He wants to talk to you, to finally ask about your day, to finally ask where you’ve been and how you’ve been holding up with your classes… but he wants to do it alone. He doesn’t want Jeno here.

Jeno, being the saint he is, understands the message Jaemin silently gives as he raises from his chair at the kitchen island, shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants as he excuses himself, mumbling about how he was going to see Miwoo and Jaemin could almost kiss him right then and there as a thank you, but his gratitude slowly slips away when Jeno makes eye contact with him before dipping past, a quiet ‘you-need-to-talk’ type of look that leaves Jaemin even more confused than he already was coming in earlier.

It doesn’t take long for Jaemin to ask you to come upstairs to his room, muttering a small thank you as you open the door for him due to his hands being preoccupied and you even close it yourself which he’s thankful for again, carefully putting down his camera on his desk along with the coffee tray and handing one over to you, proudly showing the ‘iced toasted vanilla latte’ sticker thats plastered across the back for you to see.

You take it out of his grasp. “Thank you”

The corner of Jaemin’s lips turn into a frown as he realises you didn’t recognise he’s got you your favourite drink, feeling slightly defeated as his shoulders shrink, grabbing his own coffee with a small mutter of, “You’re welcome”.

It’s quiet between you and Jaemin, too quiet. It makes his head overcrowded with too many thoughts and questions, especially some regarding what was going on between you and Jeno downstairs. Was Jaemin jealous? Not exactly, he’d like to argue. He knows how close you and Jeno are. He knows that the two of you have been friends much longer than you have with any of the others… so it’s obvious you would be close. The threeway kiss he saw you, Jeno and Miwoo participate in at the party was definitely something that’s unable to escape his mind… but he knows you were all drunk. None of you were sober. It was just for fun.

So what exactly is the problem? He’s secretly nosey, for starters. He wants to know what you both were talking about earlier and, even though he doesn’t want to admit to it, he was confused on why Jeno was holding your hand and giving you reassurance… because what would you need reassurance about? It worries Jaemin a lot, he wants to be the one to reassure you. Is there something you’re hiding from him?

“What were you and Jeno talking about before I came in earlier?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes widen slightly before relaxing your shoulders. “It’s nothing important… He was just cheering me up, that’s all. My assignments are just getting to my head, they’re stressing me out a little”

Oh. Jaemin frowns at that, a ugly feeling settling in his chest at the thought of you being so stressed and worked up over your assignments, as he reaches his hand down to affectionately caress the back of your head, pushing you forwards carefully to lean down and press a chaste kiss to your forehead. Your frown matches his and he can’t help but feel as though there’s more than what you’re letting on, but he doesn’t want to stress you out anymore, he doesn’t want to see you be caught up in your worries.

“You work too hard, hm?” Jaemin coos in that voice he knows that you hate so much, but it makes you smile and his chest soars when he sees that exact smile creeping onto your face. “You need to chill out… your health is more important than some assignments”

“I know, but—”

“You’re smart and you know exactly what you’re doing” He cuts you off, not allowing you to make up any excuse. His hand resumes in caressing the back of your head, rings getting caught in your hair which you both snicker at, but he goes back into serious mode as he speaks, “Chill out with me today, okay? You can even nap on my bed if you want to… it’s all yours”

“All mine?”

“All yours”

• • •

Despite telling you to chill on his bed, Jaemin couldn’t exactly do that himself due to a photography project he had to work on. He did lay with you for a bit, trying to get you to talk about your day and what you’ve been doing since you’ve been so busy, but the one worded answers and the simple replies got under his skin a little. It seemed like you weren’t interested in having a conversation with him, to which he blamed you being so stressed over your assignments and potentially too tired. He yearned for you to talk to him, to tell him everything that's going on inside of your head and that he could help you… but with the lack of communication, Jaemin gave up.

He sits at his desk, the sound of him clicking his mouse and sighing to himself about mistakes being the only noises that break the silence you’re both stuck in. He glances over his shoulder a few times during his work, seeing you rotate between sipping the last remains of your drink, playing games on your phone and laying against the pillows while staring up at his ceiling mindlessly. Jaemin even looks up at the ceiling, wondering what’s so fascinating about his white ceiling that you can’t even find the words to talk to him. 

It doesn’t take long for Jaemin to crack, pausing his work to swivel around in his chair to face you, the quietness and the lack of talking becoming too much for him to handle. He feels frustrated, horny, annoyed, maybe even a little upset.

“Okay, what’s going on?” He breaks the silence as he stands, abandoning his project as he makes his way over to you on the bed. You still don’t look at him which he sighs at, standing in between your legs that hang off the edge of the bed, his hands touch your thighs, kneading and groping the skin. His gaze turns hard as he looks down at you. “You’ve been weird this past week and there’s no point in trying to deny it either… I know you. What’s been going on?”

“Nothing” You mumble to him distractingly, eyes dazed. “I’m just tired”

“Do you expect me to really believe that?” He quirks his brow, tuting with a shake of his head as his hands grope your thighs harder, thumbs pushing into the flesh. “You think I haven’t noticed you actively avoiding me?”

“W-what?! No, I—” You stutter immediately, struggling to find the right words. He’s got you. So you have been avoiding him on purpose. “Jae, I—”

“I just want to play with you” His voice whines, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout at the thought of you avoiding him all this time. He feels annoyed and a little taken back, but with how horny he’s been feeling and seeing you stare up at him the way you are, he lets his annoyance slip away. You whisper his name, but he hardly pays any attention as he speaks again, “How am I supposed to play with you if you keep avoiding me and hiding from me, hm? That’s not nice… is it, baby?”

“No” You shake your head, your own arousal pooling in your eyes and Jaemin fights the urge to grin at how turned on you are right now.

“Can I play with you now?” He asks and you’re quick to nod your head, just as desperate as he is. “Then open your legs for me, baby”

The way you open your legs to invite him in makes Jaemin grin wickedly, gripping your thighs tight in his grasp as he pulls you down the bed. He grunts softly when the bulge in his shorts presses against you, his teeth digging into his bottom lip when he feels you lift your hips to rub yourself over his covered cock, the grin on his face widening. You’re so desperate for him… it’s cute.

You lean up on your elbows but Jaemin is quick to push your back down as he crawls on top, hovering over you with a tilt of his head. Something stirs inside of him as he sees the expression on your face, eyes wide and needy, mouth parting with small gasps escaping your lips. It’s something he’s felt before when he was with Eunbin, but it was always pushed to the side, something he couldn’t explore further into… but he would be willing to dive further if you were up for it too.

He swats your hand away when you try to touch his face and you obey, resting your hand at your sides despite him feeling the way your hips continue to rub against his. He sighs at your reaction with a tut, running his hand up your body and over your chest, ghosting over your neck.

“Look at you… so desperate” He rasps, tracing his index finger over your throat carefully, watching your reactions for any uncertainty or hesitations. Seeing none, Jaemin’s even more careful when he decides to wrap his hand around your throat, waiting for you to pull away at any moment but you melt into his grasp with a gasp. The corner of his lips twitch excitedly and he adds slight pressure, feeling you gulp beneath his touch.

He forgets for a few moments about the rings on his fingers hurting you and he panics, getting ready to move his hand away and get rid of the rings until he hears you moan. A pathetic sounding high pitched moan that sends his head into a frenzy. His mouth drops open in shock, never having heard that sound come from you before but he regains himself, shutting his mouth as he wants nothing more than to have you make that noise again.

“Baby, I’ll give you everything you want…” Jaemin says as he presses his thumb against the side of your throat, his hips beginning to rut against yours. He hesitates before he says his next words, but he wants to test the waters with you. “There’s no need to be a bratty little bitch”

“Fuck” He hears you moan out and he feels giddy, trying his hardest not to break character to giggle. He watches as your fingers curl around his necklace to drag him down, puckering your lips to press them against Jaemin’s but he’s quick to pull back, to keep a distance between you both.

“Apologise first” He says with a smirk, glancing down at your lips that press together tightly. “Apologise, and I’ll give it to you”

“I’m sorry”

His heart warms at that, fighting the urge to actually smile at your apology. He was hurt with you avoiding him, even though you must’ve had your real reasons that Jaemin will wait for you to feel comfortable enough to tell him, but he was still hurt.

“Sorry what?” Jaemin presses, wanting to go over the line and see if you’d be comfortable enough in delving deep in one of his fantasies. You’re quiet now, which makes Jaemin a little nervous. He doesn’t want to push you too far nor does he want to make you uncomfortable. He briefly remembers a conversation with you, how the two of you should be open with your kinks and fantasies and should at least try anything once.

He can see the cogs turn in your head as you figure out exactly what he wants you to say. You don’t show any disgust or hesitancy. You’re breathings laboured and Jaemin can still feel you gently humping his leg like a bitch in heat. He smiles at that.

“Baby…” He calls out tauntingly, adding extra pressure to the grip he has around your neck and you whine. “Are you going to say it?”

“I’m sorry…” You whimper quietly, your fingers tugging at his necklace again to pull him closer and Jaemin obliges, nodding his head, so eager for you to mutter that word. “Daddy”

Fuck. He’s done for. “That’s my good girl”

• • •

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you” Jaemin mutters in your ears as his arms slip under your body to hold you to his chest securely. He feels terrible when your face screws up in pain from the soreness that spreads through your body and he presses his lips to your temple as he lifts you up from his bed, cooing in your ear at your whining. He’s careful as he carries you into the bathroom, the activities from a few moments before taking a toll on his own body but he pushes it to the side to focus on you.

He’s gentle when he sits you down on the bathroom counter, leaving you for a brief moment to run the water to fill up the bathtub. Jaemin comes back to stand in between your thighs, grabbing the packet of wet wipes from the side and pulling a few sheets out and leaving them on the side for use.

Jaemin cups your face as he gently wipes at the mascara that has smudged around your eyes, face full of concentration as he’s careful not to poke and prod at any sensitive areas or even accidentally jab your eye. He’s seen this done by Jeno multiple times for Miwoo and he’s glad he’s taken some mental notes otherwise he’s sure he would’ve messed up horribly by now. He mutters a quiet apology as he sees you wince when his thigh accidentally knocks against yours, creating too much movement in your legs which you’ve voiced how sore they are.

His hands drop down to your thighs to massage the aches and pains, watching your face intently for any show of discomfort but you’re smiling at him thankfully, head drooping low from tiredness but he makes a noise of disapproval, shaking his own head as he cups your face.

“Can you stay awake a little longer for me?” His voice is quieter than usual and it startles him slightly, feeling that unusual but familiar sinking feeling in his chest, but he ignores it to focus his attention more on you.

“Okay” You simply answer with a murmur, nodding your head. Jaemin whispers a thank you as he presses a soft smooch to your lips, pulling back before he could even allow himself to get carried away in the feeling of your lips. He sees you trying to sway him back in but a nose of protest rumbles from his chest, shaking his head as he silently tells you no. You oblige with a pout but the smile soon comes back when Jaemin gently pushes his forehead against yours.

He moves back to briefly kiss your temple, arms slipping around your body to haul you off of the bathroom counter to help you into the bath, squeezing himself in behind you and resting your back against his chest comfortably.

Jaemin takes his time washing you, his hands light and careful whenever he touches your body, scrubbing you clean with your favourite scented soap that he kept in his bathroom. He coos in your ear when he reaches in between your thighs, cleaning away yours and his cum that sticks to your skin and even when you flinch away in pain, he calms you down, humming softly to distract you from the aches and pains. 

That sinking feeling in his chest gets deeper, his head beginning to swirl with unspeakable thoughts and he finds it a little hard to breathe now, the anxiety that's slowly rising within him getting worse and Jaemin finishes cleaning you up before cleaning himself as quick as possible, soaping up his body and washing it away while trying to keep you awake, wanting you to be in bed to get a good night's sleep.

Jaemin climbs out of the bath first, grabbing a towel to secure around his waist before helping you out, covering your body in the most comfiest of towels and guiding you back into his bedroom. It doesn’t take Jaemin too long to dry your body, even trying his best to tie your hair out of your face, getting frustrated at the little baby hairs that slip out from the hair tie but he leaves it, dressing you in one of his old shirts and allowing you to get comfy under the covers with small comforting pats on your back.

You fall asleep in a matter of seconds which always seems to impress Jaemin, watching your chest rise and fall with slow and steady breaths. He, admittedly, finds you beautiful like this, bare faced and at peace in his bed. His fingers reach up to trace across your delicate features, smoothing over your eyebrows and eyelids, over your nose and across your lips. He turns his hand over to brush his knuckles over your cheek and down your jaw but he retracts when you shift in your sleep and yet again, that sinking feeling. That dark, deep sinking feeling is back again.

Jaemin shuffles back from you and off the bed to grab a fresh pair of boxers out of his drawers, pulling them up his legs and resting low on his hips, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, fighting off the heavy weighted thoughts that rest in the back of his mind. He collapses down at the edge of the bed with a huff, blunt nails pinching at his thighs to regain control of himself, trying his hardest to listen to the rain that pelts heavily against his window along with your steady breathing. It works for a little, his hands leaving his thighs to come together, mindlessly fiddling with the rings as he now stares out past his drawn blackout curtains, dark and gloomy grey skies staring back at him.

Something pulls at his chest again and drops low into his stomach, but it’s different this time, because he feels nothing but everything all at once. His body feels so foreign to him and he even slowly glances down at his hands, flexing his fingers to make sure all ten digits are intact and that he’s conscious. You have more or less fingers when you’re lucid dreaming, he reminds himself. He slowly raises his hand and places it on his chest, above his heart. You’re still beating. 

If everything was working normally, why does he feel so shitty? Why does he feel so empty and lost? The sex wasn’t bad, it was the best sex he’s had in awhile and he was thankful you were open to indulge in one of his fantasies. He enjoyed it and most importantly to him, you enjoyed it… so what was wrong with him? Jaemin sighs in frustration, rubbing his face tiredly as he pushes himself off the bed to walk over to his mini fridge beneath his desk to grab a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and taking a few hefty gulps, the coldness soothing his tight throat.

His eyes look around the room, to his computer, to the polaroid picture, to the bed, to you, to the ring sitting on his bedside table. To that ring. 

He stares at the dainty jewellery for a while longer as he gulps more water, finishing the bottle in seconds before his bare feet drag across the floorboards to his the item in question, carefully picking it up and examining it between his two fingers. His lips form in a straight line. Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing going on inside his head right now. It worries him a lot, knowing that every time he even spared a glance at the ring, there would be images popping up inside his head, past conversations echoing in his ears, dread and hurt filling his stomach.

It makes him sick.

“Jaemin?” He hears you groggily call out his name from beneath his blanket and he hears you shuffle around, undoubtedly looking for him. Your voice brings him comfort and it drags him back to reality, the thoughts that begin to overcrowd his mind disappear as fast as they came. He can breathe again.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” He doesn’t answer at first, instead he swallows thickly and closes his fist around the ring with a shaky breath, reaching down to rip open his bedside drawer and throw the ring inside, slamming it shut with a loud thump that has his ears ringing. Jaemin winces at the noise, hoping he didn’t affect your ears as much as it did his. 

He’s quiet climbing beside you in bed, crawling beneath the covers and resting his head on the pillow, turning to stare straight at you. Despite the only light in the room being the moonlight seeping through the gap in his curtain, he can see the curiosity and wonder pooling in your iris, a question laying on the tip of your tongue that he’s internally begging you not to ask yet. He’s not ready… and he’s worried about that. Will he ever be ready?

Jaemin exhales deeply, feeling the stress lift away from his body as his hand comes down to touch your cheek delicately, tracing over the skin before he messily tucks a strand of hair behind your ears, keeping it out of your face and away from your ears. His fingers come around to play with the ear that dangles prettily from your ears, smiling to himself when he realises you’ve forgotten to take it off before bed.

His eyes dart down to your lips, licking over his own just as he leans forward, caving into his urges of giving you a kiss, a kiss so gentle and soft that it makes Jaemin’s neck feel hot, especially with how your hand cups his face to keep him in place, holding him so carefully in the palm of your hands. It makes Jaemin’s heart melt.

He’s really missed you… and he hopes you missed him too.

— [𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 : 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎]

“Are you alright?” Jeno asks cautiously as he looks up from his phone, watching Jaemin mindlessly swirl the spoon around in his cereal, not paying attention to the milk that spills over the edge. “Jae?”

Jaemin hums, turning his head to Jeno who’s pointing at the mess and Jaemin’s gaze drops down, curses under his breath as he quickly grabs a napkin to wipe away the spillage, throwing the wet paper into the trash with a huff.

Jeno’s brows furrow worryingly, curious to what’s going on inside of Jaemin’s head as he shuts off his phone, leaning his arms on the kitchen table in front of him, giving Jaemin his full attention.

“Dude, what’s going on?”

“Nothing” He immediately answers, but his eyes shut in defeat as he realises that this is Jeno he’s talking to, knowing that he’s not the type to drop the subject so quickly. It’s been a few days since you came over and the feeling he experienced after having sex with you hasn’t fully disappeared, it’s been lingering on his mind ever since and eating him alive, along with the ring that’s locked away in his bedside drawer. “It’s hard to explain”

Jeno gets comfortable in his seat, offering Jaemin a gentle smile. “Try”

“I, uh—” Jaemin’s clears his throat. “I had sex with Y/N the other day, the day you guys were talking in here before I came home, and I… I don’t know, it was pretty intense, I guess. We dove into something for the first time and I think I lost myself for a while, things felt weird—I felt weird… emotionally”

"Postcoital Dysphoria"

Jaemin’s face turns blank, not understanding a word that came out of Jeno’s mouth. “What?”

Jeno chuckles, the corner of his lips twitching upwards in amusement. “It’s postcoital dysphoria. I’ve experienced it a few times with Miwoo when we had sex. It’s just something that sometimes happens when having good, intense sex… It’s normal, dude. You don’t have to worry about it, you’re fine”

“I am?” Jaemin questions and when Jeno laughs at his response, Jaemin’s face drops into another blank expression which has Jeno laughing even harder than before. “Jeno, come on, I’m serious”

“I’m serious too” Jeno grins, “You’re fine. Your mood just drops after using so much emotion and stuff when having sex. Trust me, I’ve been there. I’ve freaked out too wondering if something was wrong with me but it’s normal” Jeno pauses for a moment, the grin dropping from his face as he looks warily over at Jaemin. “Although, If you’re experiencing that a lot then maybe you should talk to—”

“It’s only happened once” Jaemin is quick to add in, watching as Jeno’s shoulders drop in relief. Jaemin purses his lips slightly, feeling his own relief weight off of his body knowing that everything was okay. “Thank you, by the way… for telling me about that”

“No problem” Jeno dismisses with a shake of his hand. “I’ve been there with Miwoo”

“Yeah?” Jaemin’s brow raises slightly, remembering Jeno even admitted to that earlier. “Where is Miwoo anyway? Doesn’t she usually come over earlier on Thursdays?”

Jaemin instantly notices that Jeno’s tongue prods against his cheek in annoyance and Jaemin takes this as a sign to sit down, pushing his bowl of cereal to the side as he looks at Jeno worryingly. The relationship Miwoo and Jeno have has always been complicated, even to Jaemin. They bicker a lot but they always make up at the end of the night. The dents on Jeno’s bedroom wall from his headboard can prove that. They don’t stay angry at each other for too long, and even when Jeno comes to Jaemin for his support and thoughts, he’s never been this annoyed… or upset.

“We’re on a break, for real this time” Jeno mumbles, making Jaemin frown at this new information. “We had this stupid argument on Tuesday after our date, about how I wanted to dye my hair blue for fun and she said no, so we bickered about that… but it turned into something bigger”

Jaemin dares to ask, “How big?”

“Very” Jeno sighs, rubbing his face and running his fingers through his growing mullet sadly. “I’ve been stressed these past few days about college and some other stuff that’s been going on in my head. My professor has been wanting me and my group partner, Jungwoo, to come up with these designs that have been burning me out and… I don’t know, I talked to Miwoo about it and I guess I just wanted some comfort and advice from her, but she just brushed it to the side and tried to sleep with me instead to make me feel better that way… I didn’t want that”

“So it caused an argument between you two?”

“Yeah” Jeno nods, raising his eyes to look at Jaemin with a saddened expression. “I said some things I regret, really regret. I called her selfish and inconsiderate of my feelings… I was angry. I didn’t mean it”

“I mean…” Jaemin exhales deeply, twiddling with his thumbs as he tries to find the right words to say. “As much as that girl tests me, she’s not selfish… sure, she can be a little inconsiderate sometimes, but I know Miwoo well enough to say that she probably wanted to sleep with you during that moment because that’s the only way she knows how to make you feel better”

Jeno’s brows furrow at that, “Ouch?”

“We both know it’s the truth” Jaemin shrugs. “Look, dude, you and Miwoo have been together for longer than I can remember and you’ve always resolved any problems or issues with sleeping together… You don’t talk. You don’t communicate with each other because, let’s face it, fucking is so much easier than talking. But maybe that’s what you need, you know? You need to just… talk”

Jaemin’s voice quietens down as his own words sink in, realising how much he needs to hear this himself. He needs to talk to you. He needs to be honest instead of using sex as a way to escape. He slumps back into his seat, biting down harshly on his inner cheek, anxiously picking at the skin around his fingernails as the words settle. He needs to talk to you.

The thought about opening up sounds scary to him, that uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of his belly when he realises talking to you about his past will open up mending wounds. He tries to convince himself that maybe opening up to you about his relationship with Eunbin will help him heal… but there’s always that little voice of doubt in the back of his head that tells him it will all go terribly wrong.

“You good over there?” Jeno asks with a slight teasing tone and Jaemin meets his eyes, nodding his head briefly. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine” Jaemin gives him a tight lipped smile as his hand reaches into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Jeno watches as Jaemin’s thumbs tap against the screen, pulling up your contact and clicking the call icon, bringing the phone to his ear.

Jaemin’s bottom lip gets caught between his teeth, biting down on the skin nervously as he listens to the phone ring, wondering if you’re even awake or busy but his thoughts are soon answered when the ringing stops and your voice comes through.

“Hello?”

“Get dressed. I’m coming to get you in five minutes” He immediately gets into it, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, the sound echoing in his ears with each heavy thud.

“What?” Your confusion is clear, it makes him smile a little. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to see you. I’m also thirsty so I’m taking us to get some coffee or something… my treat” His eyes darts towards Jeno who's still watching him with a smile, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Just me and you. Get dressed”

“Okay, okay” He hears you laugh. “I’m hanging up”

“See you soon, baby” Jaemin lets out a shaky breath when you hang up, staring down at your contact for a little while before shoving his phone into his pocket. “Stop staring at me”

“Sorry” Jeno grins cheekily. “Just admiring the view”

— [𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒]

During the entire trip to the café, Jaemin had completely forgotten about the reason why he called you in the first place, to focus on the peaceful conversation he was having with you and how you practically floated to the counter filled with pastries and cakes once you both walked inside.

He doesn’t blame you, the smell of coffee and baked goods is overwhelming, but he still laughs when he sees your fingers press against the glass cabinet where the desserts were showcased, his own hand raising to the back of your head and cooing at your behaviour to which you simply ignore.

“Welcome to 7 Dream Café” Jisung greets with little to no enthusiasm, clearly tired of having to use the same greeting over and over again whenever someone comes to the counter. “Can I take your order?”

“Do you have to say that every time we come here?” Jaemin asks, eyebrows raising in amusement.

“Sadly” Jisung mutters angrily, adjusting the dark blue pinny around his waist. “Apparently it’s a good look for the company to greet customers with the cafe’s name, makes it look like we’re professionals and all that shit”

“Did they say that or Chenle?”

Jisung pauses, blinks and his lips curl into a grimace. “Chenle”

“He’s probably fucking around with you” You tell him once your attention is brought away from the cakes. “Where is that little gremlin anyways?”

“Out the back teaching the new girl how to decorate the cakes. He nearly dumped a whole bowl of frosting over her head when she fucked up his flower design” Jisung snorts, not bothering to hide is amusement as he wipes the fake tears under his eyes.

“You seem way to happy about that” 

“I’m just glad it’s not me this time” Jisung grins happily as fingers tap against the touchscreen of the cash register at the most expert pace, briefly looking up at Jaemin. “You want your usual, yeah?”

Jaemin hums and nods his head, reaching for his card before tapping it against the glass cabinet. “And throw in two of those little cupcakes that she’s been eyeing up since we got here”

“Gotcha”

“Hey!”

Jaemin shushes you by pressing his finger to your lips, shaking his head with a smile before ordering you to go find a seat while he pays. You comply with slight hesitation and he watches as you head towards a table at the back before Jisung hands over the drinks. He taps his card against the reader before grabbing the drinks and following behind you, setting them down on the table as he sits opposite you.

He thanks Jisung once he comes over with the cakes before scurrying off to serve another customer and Jaemin grabs the fork, twirling it around his fingers as he examines the treat, deciding to cut off a corner piece and holding it out towards you to try first. The smile lingers on his face a little longer when he sees you beam and lean forwards to wrap your lips around the fork for the cake, humming in delight at the taste.

Jaemin brings the fork to his lips to suck off the remaining cream, keeping his eyes on you as he waits for your approval.

“Holy shit” He snickers at that and cuts off his own piece to try, only to widen his eyes in surprise at the taste that hits his tongue. He wasn’t a huge fan of cake, but the red velvet taste that hits his taste buds almost makes him change his mind completely. You grin at him from across the table. “It’s good, right? I’ve never tasted anything more delicious in my life”

“Eh…” Jaemin shrugs his shoulders as he takes in your form, eyes dipping low suggestively before a smirk appears on his lips, his mind overcrowded with the dirtiest thoughts and images. “I’ve tasted better”

• • •

“You know, you never told me about you”

Jaemin raises his head to glance at you across the table, brow lifting in curiosity at your words. “What do you mean?”

“About you… and Eunbin” There it was. The reason why he’s called you here in the first place. A sour taste forms in his mouth at the familiar name, tongue poking at his cheek, irritated at the thoughts and the feelings that come rushing back almost instantly.

His fingers tighten around his cup, the plastic crinkling beneath the force and he places it down before any damage could be done. He can tell you looking at him warily without even taking a peek at you and he breathes heavily through his nose.

“It’s just I’ve heard so much about her, you know? And I’ve heard how people talk about her…” You continue much to Jaemin’s dismay. “She seems really… sweet? I guess? It just makes me wonder what the hell happened between you both”

Jaemin looks up at you this time, fully regretting wanting to talk to you as he feels his stomach twist and churn uncomfortably. “Y/N—”

“Look, I’m sorry for bringing it up. Everyone knows her apart from me and It’s frustrating because I told you everything about me and my past relationship with Eric… I guess I kinda been hoping that you’d open up at some point and tell me about yours too, but you never did”

Just tell her. That voice speaks in the back of his head. He knows a great part of him wants to lay it all out on the table, to explain his relationship with Eunbin and how the breakup made him feel. But there’s another side of him that’s desperate to keep him quiet, to not let you in on his deepest thoughts and feelings, to not let you know how broken Eunbin had truly made him. 

Yet, you make him comfortable. He’s been sharing parts of him with you that he hasn’t shared in a long time. He relaxes around you, allows his body to melt into the comfort of your arms or even your presence. But still, the thought of telling you about Eunbin makes his heart feel as though it’s twisting uncomfortably in his chest and that his stomach is being repeatedly punched. 

Maybe he should just rip the bandaid off. Like he told Jeno, talking is important. People need to talk no matter how difficult of a conversation it could be… communication is key.

His teeth gnaw nervously at his bottom lip, sweaty palms rubbing against his thighs as he exhales deeply, leaning back in the chair as his head slowly begins to nod, folding his hands in his lap to prevent himself from shaking, “Okay. I’ll tell you about her”

You meet his eyes across the table in shock, “You will?”

“Eunbin and I were together for two years” He jumps straight into it before he allows himself to back out at the last second, fingernails digging into the back of his hands as you lean forwards to listen intently. “She worked part-time in this art store downtown so we would bump into each other every now and then when I needed to buy a new camera or a new scrapbook to put my photos in… I found her breathtaking. She was beautiful to look at and I plucked up the courage to ask her to be a model for one of my photography projects, and she said she would agree only if I allowed her to draw me for one of her art projects… so, we made a deal”

The way you’re smiling makes him feel sick, but he couldn’t stop himself from talking, the words pouring out.

“She was… god, she was like a breath of fresh air, you know? She never cared about what other people thought of her, she was just living her life to the fullest with no worries or regrets. She was constantly happy and I think that’s what made her so attractive and kinda perfect to me…” 

This is where Jaemin pauses, throat becoming dry and eyes beginning to sting as he realises what he’s about to say next. His heart thumps, his stomach churns and he’s afraid he’s about to have a panic attack, but he swallows everything down as he sees you looking at him with concern and he breathes steadily through his nose.

“Eunbin, she, uh… she got accepted into this art school that she desperately wanted to get in and worked hard for. She would continuously be all up day and night creating different art pieces to send off. I was happy for her, you know, her art is fucking gorgeous” Jaemin can’t help but praise, a faint smile spread across his lips as he remembers how proud he was. She is a really good artist. He rubs the sleeve of his shirt across his nose when he begins to sniffle, trying his best to contain his emotions that are daring to slip. “But the art school… The art school wasn’t here. which I didn’t realise at first. It was in New York. It was in fucking New York and she took it without any hesitations, not caring about anything else even though we talked about it. She said that the art school was the most important and meaningful thing to her, and that nothing else mattered… and she just, she—”

He hears you sigh, “Eunbin left you”

“Yeah, she left me” Jaemin drops his gaze to the table, refusing to look at you as his eyes gloss over. “I was proud of her, I always was. I admired her for working towards her dream and doing whatever she had to do to get to that dream… but I didn’t think she would leave me so easily for it, you know? She slept with me, I woke up and she was gone. Her and her stuff. Gone”

“Jaemin…” You say his name softly. “I’m so sorry”

He didn’t answer you, he couldn’t, too wrapped up in his own head as the images of him waking up alone in a cold bed flashes through his mind, all of Eunbin’s belongings gone apart from the ring she had left for him on the bedside table with a note: ‘𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘺 — 𝘦’. He had crumpled up the note and threw it in the trash, and didn't even touch the ring for months.

He hated her, all of his sadness and betrayal turning to anger and hatred, blocking her number and deleting all photos he had of her, ripping the ones he printed from his camera. He turned into a lost cause, using alcohol and drugs to cope, even tried sleeping with other women to get his mind off of her but it never worked, he was still picturing her face and hearing her name. Jaemin would’ve been stuck in his rut if it wasn’t for Jeno who pulled him out of it before it got even worse, sticking by his side and making sure that he was okay. 

He’s forever grateful to Jeno. He appreciates Jeno deeply.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor and your body heat engulfing Jaemin is enough to bring him out of his head, his own arms winding around your waist, head burying in the crevice of your neck as he melts into your embrace, allowing you to comfort him with soothing strokes on the back of his head. 

He holds you tight, fingers gripping your shirt in fear that you’d suddenly disappear from him too after opening up to you about Eunbin, but he feels you reassure him when you squeeze him back. You’re not going anywhere, he reminds himself, trying to steady his erratic heartbeat. You’re not leaving. 

— [𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 : 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄… 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄]

“Are you sure you don’t want to come inside?” You ask him softly as he reaches your apartment building, your hand gently tugging on his to try and coax him in. “You came all this way…”

“I just wanted to walk you home” Jaemin speaks quietly, giving you a tight lipped smile as your eyes meet his. Truthfully, he didn’t want to come inside. He didn’t want to be around anyone. He wanted to be alone at home in his room after the day he’s had, feeling drained from the conversation prior. 

Jaemin wasn’t ready to have any more conversations or even discussions about anything, he just wanted to rest even though he knew deep down that if he walked with you into your apartment, you would allow him to rest in your bed for as long as he needed… but he didn’t want that, not right now. He needed to be home. 

He sees how reluctant you are to let him leave but you respect his wishes with a quick nod of your head before wrapping him up in your arms. He exhales deeply as he hugs you back, relaxing at the way your fingers massage the middle of his spine but pulls away before he allows himself to get too comfortable, ducking his head low to leave a simple kiss on your lips before turning on his heel, desperate to make his way back home without any other word.

Walking into the empty house is a lot worse than Jaemin anticipated, the silence making him feel uncomfortable to the point he had to turn on his computer to play music in the background so the silence wouldn’t be too much for him. 

He didn’t know where the others were, but he was thankful to not have them around so he didn’t have to talk anymore, allowing himself to sit on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, trying his hardest to focus on the music and not let any thoughts of Eunbin enter his mind.

A part of him was thankful he opened up to you, to let you know what was going on inside his head, how bad the breakup had affected him and his mental health, but the other part of him hated himself for reopening up healing wounds, a fear that maybe he was never going to physically recover from the heartbreak and memories. 

The waterworks start before Jaemin can even register what's happening, cheeks wet with salty tears and nose blocked. He’s unable to regulate his breathing, the heel of his palm rubbing vigorously against his chest as he tries to breathe steadily through his nose and out through his mouth but fails due to the choked sobs that leave his lips. 

His other hand that rests on top of his head fists his hair at the roots and tugs, the pain that soars through his skull bringing him back to his senses and the tears stop, the heavy weight on his chest and the tightness of his throat withering away into nothing. He can finally breathe again and he drops both hands to his lap, staring emotionlessly at the floor as he takes big deep breaths of air, allowing the oxygen to settle in his lungs.

He sits alone for quite some time, not bothering to move a muscle as his mind empties, numbing himself out completely, but his head perks up slightly when he hears the front door open and slam shut, heaving footsteps bounding up the staircase, loud enough to be heard over the music. Jaemin cranes his neck over his shoulder just in time to see his bedroom swing open to reveal a panicked and worried looking Jeno standing in the doorway, bangs sweatily sticking to his forehead, chest heaving rapidly.

Jaemin’s brows pull together in confusion when he sees Jeno’s shoulders drop in relief at the sight of him, stepping inside the bedroom and closing the door behind himself with a sigh.

“What was that about?” Jaemin asks in slight amusement, rubbing the sleeve of his shirt against his nose with a quick sniffle, hoping the redness of his eyes has faded away.

“She told me everything, about how you two talked about—” Jeno pants too heavily to continue, waving his hands around comically before plopping himself down beside Jaemin on the bed, elbows resting on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Jeno makes zero sense to Jaemin right now and he cocks his head to the side, trying to figure out what the hell Jeno was talking about until it slowly sinks in. You must’ve told Jeno what happened. You must’ve told Jeno that he opened up about Eunbin and Jeno got worried.

Jaemin swallows thickly, unable to look at Jeno. “I’m fi—”

“You don’t have to lie to me” Jeno cuts him off almost immediately, raising his head to stare at him with a hard look. “Don’t lie to me”

Jaemin blinks, cheeks flushed, “I will be fine”

Jeno doesn’t seem convinced but he slowly nods his head in understanding, placing a comforting hand on Jaemin’s back and Jaemin reels away from the touch before allowing himself to relax, letting Jeno be the comfort that he needs.

It doesn’t take long for the tears to start swelling in Jaemin’s eyes once again and a frustrated groan leaves his lips, tilting his head back to try and suck the tears back in but his miserable attempts fail him.

Jeno smiles sadly as he cups the back of Jaemin’s neck to drag him into his tight embrace, one hand patting the back of his head soothingly while the other wraps around his middle. He waits for Jaemin to fight back, to rip himself out of his arms and say how he doesn’t need to be comforted like this, knowing how uncomfortable he gets sometimes with too much physical contact. But Jeno’s surprised when he feels Jaemin’s body slump forward in his hold, fingers gripping the back of Jeno’s hoodie as his shoulders shake with quiet sobs.

— [𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍]

It was the morning after Jaemin’s breakdown and to be honest, he struggles to look Jeno in his eyes after crying in his arms for about an hour straight. He feels awkward, maybe even a little embarrassed even though Jeno is the only person that has seen all sides to Jaemin and is always quick to reassure him that everything is fine, and that it’s normal to be comforted when things go wrong or even when he’s upset.

“Are you seriously not going to look me in my eyes right now?” Jeno teases as the pair stand next to each other in the bathroom. Jaemin brushes his teeth quietly, keeping his eyes glued on his reflection in the mirror, trying not to feel hot under Jeno’s gaze. “I’ve seen you ass naked multiple times and you’ve acted fine, yet you can’t look at me after you’ve cried?”

“Shut up” Jaemin grumbles between a mouthful of toothpaste, unable to fight off the grin that creeps onto his face when Jeno bumps his shoulder with his. “Stop it”

“Okay” Jeno snorts as he puts down his own toothbrush, wiping the remaining paste away with a towel before grabbing the can of deodorant from the counter. “Me, Yangyang and Donghyuck got an early class today but we both finish around 10. We’re thinking of getting some breakfast later with the others if you want to join”

“Maybe” Jaemin hums.

“Can you hurry the fuck up?!” Donghyuck yells as he bursts through the bathroom door in an oversized puffer jacket and a knitted beanie on top of his head. “I got Mark blowing up my phone asking why me and Yangyang are taking so long—that Canadian fuck has his notes written on my laptop and he’s not shutting up about it!”

“Why did you let him use your laptop?” Jeno questions.

Donghyuck blinks, “I smashed his on accident”

“It wasn’t an accident” Yangyang corrects as he peers over Donghyuck’s shoulders, lips spreading into a grin. “Donghyuck got bratty when he wasn’t getting attention”

“It’s Mark’s fault!!” Donghyuck argues back angrily, huffing as Jeno pushes against his chest to usher him out of the bathroom, bidding Jaemin a quick goodbye as the trio leaves for the morning. 

Jaemin’s left alone once again, not really knowing where Shotaro and Renjun disappeared early hours this morning but he wasn’t complaining, he had the whole morning to himself before he potentially had to meet up with the others if he wanted to go for breakfast. He wasn’t certain if he even wanted to go, he didn’t really feel hungry and he wasn’t exactly up for any company, but the second his phone pinged with your name flashing across the screen from an upcoming message, he was eager to see what you needed.

you: hey you: i don't have classes today :) you: do you wanna do smth with me

His eyes widen slightly, not even thinking twice as he glides out of the bathroom into his bedroom, leaving his phone open on his desk while he rummages through his closet to find something warm to wear. I won’t answer, He thinks to himself, I won’t answer but I’ll show up at your door as a surprise. 

He pulls out a clean hoodie from its clothing hanger, letting the plastic drop to the ground as he shoves his arms through the sleeves and the hoodie over his head, running his fingers through his hair to style it out before looking for some matching sweatpants. Jaemin’s almost out of breath at how fast he’s rushing around his bedroom, glancing at his phone to check the time as he yanks his sweatpants up his legs, tying the string securely with a grin.

He knows you’re probably wondering why he’s read the message but hasn’t replied yet, already getting giddy at the mere thought of surprising you at your home. Maybe he should get some coffee along the way for you both.

Just as Jaemin yanks open his drawers to find a clean pair of socks, his back straightens almost immediately as he hears a knock at the front door, finding it extremely unusual for someone to be at the house this early in the morning. He begins to wonder if maybe someone had the wrong house, or if one of Yangyang’s hookups had forgotten something during their last encounter, or maybe it was you that decided to show up since he didn’t message back.

His heart warms at the thought and he’s unable to stop the grin that creeps on his lips as he exits his bedroom, jogging down the stairs with his hands smoothing out the wrinkles on his hoodie, fingers ruffling his hair to look somewhat presentable as he nears towards the front door.

He wonders if you’re going to give him an earful for leaving your text on read, or if you’re just going to stand there with an unamused expression on your face like you had done in the past. Jaemin snickers at the memory, curling his fingers around the door handle to pull it open, eager to hear what you’d have to say, but he freezes halfway.

Jaemin feels his heart drop in the pit of his stomach, a high pitched noise filling his ears as he takes a staggered step back, his hand that’s still locked around the door handle turns white from his iron grip. His heart thuds erratically in his chest, breathing laboured as he struggles to consume oxygen, vision slightly blurred so that it helps him no longer look at the face of the girl that’s appeared in front of him. 

He feels so dizzy that he’s thankful for the hold he has on the door, knowing that if nothing supported him he would’ve collapsed to the ground in a full blown panic.

Maybe it was all in his head, maybe the conversation of opening up yesterday made him crazy. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real. She wasn’t really here, she can’t be—

“Hey Jaemin” Eunbin greets him with the kindest of smiles and her voice was enough to set him off. She lets herself into the house without any problem, wrapping her arms around Jaemin’s middle and squeezing tightly, a giggle fleeting past her lips despite him tensing up beneath her sudden embrace. 

He doesn’t hug back, he can’t even move his arms. He can’t fucking register what the fuck is going on. It doesn’t feel real, none of this feels real but he knows that he isn’t fortunate enough for this to be a dream, to be a hallucination. 

Eunbin pulls back from the one-sided hug to stare up at Jaemin who is now looking down at her, eyes wide. She looks different than what Jaemin remembers. Her hair has grown longer and she’s cut her bangs in, completely barefaced. She’s dressed in a white sleeved shirt with a green knitted vest over the top, paired with baggy denim jeans and her shoes that Jaemin remembers all too well. The blue butterflies and green aliens that she painted on her white sneakers in his room stares back at him. 

“Are we going to stand here all day?” Eunbin teases him as she toes off her sneakers, leaving them at the front door as she slips inside fully, shaking the bag in her hand gently as she turns to him. “I bought breakfast bagels and coffee. There’s enough for everyone”

“They’re not here” Jaemin finds his voice, but it's quiet and hardly audible to the point that Eunbin couldn’t hear him as she finds her way into the kitchen. Jaemin closes the door almost robotically and follows behind, lingering in the doorway as he watches Eunbin place the breakfast bagels and coffee on top of the kitchen island. He coughs to clear his throat, trying to force himself to speak louder. “What… what are you—”

“I flew in early hours this morning, if you’re wondering” Eunbin answers the question that’s been sitting at the end of his tongue. “I got some breakfast and I came straight here, to see you”

Jaemin swallows thickly, “To see me?” 

Eunbin seems confused, but she still smiles softly. “Of course… I missed y—”

“You shouldn’t be here” Jaemin cuts her off almost immediately, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t be here. I’m not—You’re supposed to—” Jaemin’s eyes snap to Eunbin’s face as he decides to lie through his teeth. “I have someone coming over. I have plans”

“Oh” Eunbin blinks, feeling slightly awkward as she taps her nails on the styrofoam cup that holds her coffee. She seems curious, “Who?”

“Y/N” He speaks your name before he can even think.

“The girl from your Instagram?” A smile spreads across Eunbin’s lips. “She’s Eric’s girlfriend, right? Or ex-girlfriend, I think? She’s the one that used to come around a lot with him to see Jeno. I didn’t know you guys became so close—”

“Excuse me” Jaemin doesn’t even give her time to respond as he’s already turning away from the kitchen door frame, heading up the stairs to his bedroom and closing the door behind himself quietly. His forehead thuds against the cold wood and he takes long, slow deep breaths, trying to calm down his nerves that are unbelievably heightened.

Fingernails dig into his palms as he tries to ground himself when breathing gets harder to control, vision disfigured as tears form across his waterline. His chest grows tight and the pain that soars is enough to have the tears rolling down his cheeks, throwing his hand over his mouth to cover the cries that escape.

He can’t believe that this is happening, that Eunbin is sitting downstairs in the kitchen acting nonchalant, acting as if nothing ever happened during their last encounter. She should be in New York. Why did she come home? He inhales and exhales deeply, hastily rubbing his hands across his face to get rid of the tears as he turns on his heel, spotting his phone sitting open on his desk.

Jaemin curses beneath his breath as he rushes over to his phone, seeing the amount of messages you’ve left behind and he feels silly when he realises he’s left you completely on read throughout the entire series of texts. He wants to apologise and he types out his sorry message before deleting it, unsure of how to approach this situation and his mind wanders to Eunbin downstairs, his heart rapidly beating again. 

He needs to be gone from this house, gone from Eunbin’s presence. Maybe if he asks you to come over and you knock at his door, he can tell Eunbin that you’re here and that he needs to leave. He lied to Eunbin earlier about you coming over, so she’ll believe it when she hears the knock at the door and Jaemin can rush downstairs to open it and quickly leave so he no longer has to be around Eunbin, and he can finally be with you. 

jaemin: come here jaemin: the house jaemin: please

Jaemin presses send quickly, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip as the little read notification appears at the bottom of his texts and his shoulders relax slightly, hoping that you didn’t leave him on read after his stupid mistakes and were on your way over. Please.

• • •

Hiding away inside his room isn’t one of his best ideas, perhaps it is one of his pathetic ones but still, he wasn’t ready to leave his room and face the girl that is sitting in his kitchen. She called for him a few times, asking if he was okay but he dismissed it by saying he was looking for something and immediately declined when she offered to help. 

Jaemin doesn’t want Eunbin here, he knows that much. He doesn’t want her to be anywhere near him after what happened during their last encounter, it baffles him at how nonchalant she’s acting about it. His brows pull together in deep thought, wondering if Eunbin had a different outcome of that night in her own mind. Is he curious? Possibly. Does he want to actually talk to her about it? No.

He knew this day would come, where she would come back home from New York and he’d see her face every now and again on the streets or in certain places, but he didn’t expect it to be this soon and he most definitely didn’t expect her to show up at his front door looking happy as ever, maybe even a little excited too. 

It confuses him, and he hates it.

Although relief floods his system when he hears the front door open and close, wondering if Eunbin got tired of waiting or even realised what Jaemin’s true intentions were and left, and hopefully for good. He slides off his bed, gravitating towards the window and sneakily peeking through the curtains to see if Eunbin was leaving down the driveway but his stomach twists when he sees the white car parked out front with nobody occupying the drivers seat. Eunbin is still here, he frowns deeply, but why did the front door open?

Deciding to investigate, Jaemin quietly opens his bedroom door to leave the comfort of his room, silently walking across the landing to the stairs where he carefully climbs down, not making hardly any noises as he tries to listen in on the conversation that seems to be happening in the kitchen. His brows pull together as he moves faster and his heart thumps in his ears as he begins to recognise the voice that’s replying to Eunbin, body tensing as he stands in the doorway to see you sitting at the kitchen island with Eunbin.

You weren't supposed to come inside, but yet he couldn’t blame you for doing so. You are used to walking in and making yourself home, the boys have all told you (Haru and Miwoo) to do so. It’s normal for you, it’s normal for him… but fuck he wish that wasn’t the norm, not today. He didn’t want Eunbin talking to you, he didn’t want Eunbin anywhere near you. For a reason, Jaemin is unsure why, but he hates seeing Eunbin engaging in conversation with you which is why he decides to make his presence known.

“Hey”

Your head immediately snaps in his direction and with your eyes finally locked on his, Jaemin feels the worries inside his head begin to disintegrate, the weight on his shoulders slowly lifting. He’ll constantly be in awe at how simple you make him feel at ease, but his figure tenses up when Eunbin’s attention is now brought to him too.

But he keeps his eyes on you. You are the only person in this room that matters to him right now, the only person in this room he can look at without falling apart and he drags himself over to you, fingers itching to touch your skin, to feel your embrace.

He fully believes you read his mind because the second he stands beside you, your hand lays on his arm and his body relaxes, allowing to lean his weight into your side, his arm coming around to wrap around your back, clutching the back of the sweatshirt of his you’re wearing and he smiles softly, rubbing the fabric between his fingertips.

This calms him, being beside you, touching you. And his heart warms when he realises how fast you came over to help him, he’s filled with the uttermost gratitude and he wishes he can kiss you right then and there, but his head rises when he’s reminded of the person who is sitting opposite the two of you. 

Eunbin smiles when she reaches his eyes but Jaemin’s quick to avert his attention back to you with a thick gulp, watching your hands that now rest in your lap. He’s eager to slip his fingers between yours and tug you out of the house, to disappear for a little while.

“I’m sorry if I’m making things awkward, but…” Eunbin speaks up, disrupting the silence. She points at Jaemin first before she points at you which Jaemin isn’t fond of, eyes narrow slightly. “Are you guys, like, a thing?”

You clear your throat to speak first, “We’re—”

“We’re sleeping together” Jaemin tells her before he can even register what he’s saying. His lips press together in a tight line when he fully realises what he’s just blurted out, but there’s a twisted part of him that enjoys seeing the look on Eunbin’s face. His hand slips up your back to rest on your shoulder. “We’re exclusive”

The way you comically turn your head to look at Jaemin is enough to make him smile despite the ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach. He can see the uncomfortable look on your face and he’s regretful, not wanting to put you in such a position and he curses at himself for letting his pettiness get the best of him. He drops his left eye into a wink, hoping to silently reassure you and tell you everything is okay.

“Oh” Eunbin blinks, unsure of what to say. “How long?”

“A mo—”

The sound of you clearing your throat makes Jaemin stop and he looks down at you, a little confused but also worried, squeezing your shoulder in a gesture to ask if you’re alright but you ignore it as you give him a smile which he notices is not legitimate. “Sorry, I had something stuck in my throat… Anyways, I’m late so, uh, I’m gonna go. Bye”

The second you stand up from your seat, Jaemin is quick to grasp your hand in his. He sees how uncomfortable and panicky you look and his chest tightens, hoping to calm you down as his thumb grazes over the tops of your knuckles. He notices how your eyes nervously glance around the room, looking over at Eunbin who is already staring at you both and Jaemin sighs, cupping your cheeks in his hands to force you to look at him, not wanting you to feel intimidated under Eunbin’s gaze. 

“Where are you going?” He questions with a whisper. He doesn’t want you to leave without him, he wants you to whisk him away to wherever you’re heading… he doesn’t want to be alone with Eunbin. “Don’t… don’t leave”

“We’re going to be late to get breakfast with everyone” Jaemin’s eyes widen and relief instantly floods through his veins when he hears the emphasis on the ‘we’re’, realising that you’re going to take him with you and he couldn’t be more happier. He removes his hands from your cheeks to lace his fingers with your own, ready to leave right then and there.

“Wait…” Eunbin speaks up before Jaemin can even begin to ask her to leave the house. He briefly glances over at her, watching as she rubs the back of her neck and gives a nervous smile, “I just got here… I haven’t seen you in months and you’ve been avoiding me. Can we just talk? Please?”

“I—” Jaemin gulps at the sad look Eunbin casts his way and he sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair. He’s conflicted seeing the all-to familiar sorrowful look on Eunbin’s face, it disgusts him how much it pulls at his heartstrings and makes him feel like a shitty person. But with the hand that's locked in your own and your body brushing against his from the close proximity, he wants you. He wants to leave with you. 

“It won’t be long, I promise” Eunbin promises him with hope. “Just for an hour, okay? I need to talk to you”

Jaemin’s silent now, staring at nothing in particular with his brows pulled together in deep thought, mind overcrowding with confusing thoughts and feelings that’s enough to give him a headache. His teeth bite down on his tongue with force, trying his hardest to focus on the pain to get rid of hushed voices inside of his head but he struggles deeply.

Closure, the voice in his head repeats. This could be closure. His eyes dart towards Eunbin who’s already staring back at him. Tell her how she made you feel. His forehead creases, lips forming in a straight line as his jaw tightens with a glare. Tell her how badly she fucked up.

“Fine” He nods his head once, “I’ll stay”

Jaemin turns to look at you when he feels your hand slip away from his grip, refusing to meet his eyes as your back straightens up, sending a tight lipped smile to Eunbin who seems content with his answers.

“It’s nice meeting you”

“You too,” Eunbin admits with a genuine smile. “I hope we can see each other again?”

Jaemin watches as you nod your head before bidding a quick goodbye, turning on your heel as you head out of the kitchen and Jaemin’s mouth open and closes repeatedly, unsure of what to say as he hurriedly follows behind you, latching his fingers around your wrist before you could open the front door and escape.

He presses your back against it, eyes filled with panic as they meet your emotionless ones, shocked that you’re trying to leave without even saying anything to him. Why are you mad? Did he say something wrong? Is staying not the right choice? Are you disappointed? He hates not knowing what’s going on inside your head, desperate for you to talk to him.

Jaemin’s hands shakingly come up to gently touch your face, pushing the strands of hairs neatly behind your ears as he dips his head down, trying to meet your eyes once again when you look away from him. Please look at me. He cradles your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as he raises your head when you finally look at him and he leans in, pressing his mouth to yours in a slow kiss.

He feels your body react to him, instantly relaxing and curling your fists around the material of his hoodie to pull him closer and he complies, stepping forwards so his body is flush against yours, leaving no room for either of you. His arms slither around your waist as yours wrap around his shoulders, exhaling deeply when he feels your fingers tug at the hairs on the nape of his neck. The kiss is full of desperation, yearning, and he almost whines when you start to pull away from him, his lips immediately chasing yours but stops, opting to rest his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his breath.

“I didn’t want to stay” He tells you, wanting to explain his thought process to you. “But I think I need to do this for me, for closure” Jaemin’s hands rub the bottom of your back as he feels himself slowly go into a panicked state, wanting to calm himself down. “I need to tell her how I felt. I need her to understand that I—”

“You don’t have to explain it” You cut him off with a smile and he melts as he still feels you playing with the hair at the back of his head. “It’s okay, Jaemin”

Jaemin blinks softly, chest warming at the reassurance and he nods his head gratefully. He kisses your lips once again and he has the sudden urge to smile when he feels you kiss him back with your hand placed on his cheeks. He completely forgets about the person sitting alone in the other room, waiting for him to come back.

Truthfully, he doesn’t care about anything when he’s with you. You make him forget a lot of things that usually leave him in a rut. You help him breathe, you help him feel normal, you make everything seem worth it. 

The kiss is broken and Jaemin opens the door for you when you’re ready to leave, leaning against the wood as he stares at you, something tugging at his heart as you give him a smile and he freezes, body stiff against the door.

“Y/N…” He whispers your name softly, teeth gnawing down on his bottom lip as his palms become clammy. “I, uh… I…”

“What?” You press with a giggle.

“I…” Jaemin swallows thickly, something heavy dawning on him. He’s come to realise that you are the most important person to him, maybe even more than Jeno and that leaves him in internal shock but a smile crawls onto his lips as he stares at you a little longer. Jaemin has always appreciated the things he loves, and he wasn’t exactly sure what kind of love it is, but, “I appreciate you”

• • •

“She seems really sweet” Eunbin admits as Jaemin finds his way back into the kitchen after seeing you off, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he leans against the countertop across from Eunbin, keeping his distance which she seems to notice almost instantly. “You can sit, you know—”

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin cuts her off with the question that's been swimming around in his mind, brows furrowing as he chews the inside of his cheek. He wants answers. He needs answers.

“I… told you. I came to see you—”

“But why?” Jaemin presses, frustration already beginning to build.

“I missed you” Eunbin admits, a sad frown displaying across her lips as she fiddles with her fingers. “I mean, I tried contacting you the entire time I was gone but you blocked my number”

“Why do you think I would keep your number after what you did?” Jaemin tilts his head to the side, staring at Eunbin who slowly sinks down into her seat under his gaze. “Do you even understand what happened? You fucked me and then you left. You didn’t tell me you were leaving, you just did”

“Jaemin—”

“Do you know how badly you fucked me up after that?” He seethes through his teeth. Jaemin doesn’t mean to get angry, but he struggles to control his emotions towards the girl that’s in front of him, wanting nothing more than her to understand what she has done. “I lost my fucking mind because of you and you were living your best life in New York”

“But we talked about New York after I confessed” Eunbin speaks with desperation in her voice. “We spoke about it and I told you that it was my dream to go, and you were supportive—”

“I was supportive of you following your dream. I wasn’t supportive of you lying to me about going to New York” Jaemin corrects, clenching his fists inside of his pockets and digging his fingernails into his palms, trying to keep control of his emotions, not wanting to break down. “You told me how the art school was the most meaningful and important thing to you, and that nothing else mattered…”

“You matter,” Eunbin quickly adds before she sighs. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Jae”

“But you did,” Jaemin smiles sadly. “I understand how important that art school was for you and I was happy that you got what you wanted because you worked hard for it… but understand from my perspective how shitty it was to find out that it was in New York and you leaving the day after”

“What I did was shitty, I know that” She admits, chewing down on her bottom lip as tears brim in her eyes. She looks down at her hands. “I shouldn’t have kept it a secret that it was in New York and I shouldn’t have left after sleeping with you… In my head, when we were arguing about it and I apologised, and then we slept together, I thought we were fine. I thought you were okay about the art school being in New York because you told me you loved me and you supported my dreams, which is why I left for it the next day”

Jaemin feels the sting as his eyes well up with his own tears and he tries to blink them back, “You thought we were fine?” That explains why she came here this morning… She thought we were still fine. 

“I’m so sorry, Jae” Eunbin stands up from her seat, making her way over to stand in front of Jaemin who tenses up and leans further back against the countertop. “I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry for being so selfish… but please understand that it was never my intention to hurt you. Please”

Jaemin doesn’t speak. He can’t find the right words to describe how he’s feeling. But hearing Eunbin call herself selfish and apologise for hurting him left him in shock. He didn’t really expect Eunbin to feel this bad. Honestly, he was worried and waiting for another pending argument, to hear her tell her side of the story and stick with it, so having her admit her faults in front of him was enough to have the weight lifted off his shoulders.

Closure, the voice in his head speaks. You got your closure.

His head drops, chin touching his chest as he exhales before he slowly nods his head, an indication that Eunbin knows all too well. Jaemin accepts the apology, he hasn’t forgiven her for what happened and admittedly, he’s still a little angry, but he’s thankful for her verbal apology. 

Eunbin smiles through her tears as she steps forward, wrapping her arms around Jaemin in a tight embrace for the second time today. Jaemin’s brows jump in surprise, listening as she quietly cries against his chest, clutching his hoodie desperately and Jaemin remains still, staring down at the top of her head with his hands still buried deep in his pockets.

[ikykwkleeknoww]

One Hug

warnings: angst if you squint, tooth rotting fluff

changbinxgn!reader

w/c: idk but it’s short, maybe 2 minutes?

a/n: it’s just a quick one-shot, so it’s not proofread. Enjoy reading tho!

After a long day, Yn couldn’t wait to be home. Their boss was in a bad mood, causing a negative effect on her workers.

It was late, close to midnight when Yn could finally leave their office’s building. The neon lights of the streets embracing their features, but none were able to hide the dark bags underneath their eyes.

They quickly sent a message to their boyfriend, letting him know that they’ll be on their way back. I’m off now, I’ll be home in 20, if there’s no traffic. The male on the other side of the phone replied immediately: Alright baby, be careful.

And indeed, they were lucky to make it home quickly. Opening the front door, eager to see their loved one, Yn slipped out of their shoes as quick as possible. As soon as their feet were freed from the cuffing material, they made their way into the kitchen.

The smell of freshly cooked food swiveled around them, their tastebuds inpatient to get to taste savory flavors. “Oh, hello my love! How was your day?” The buff male stood by the stove, a pink apron bound around his waist. “Exhausting, what did you made?”

Yn peaked into the pot, a stew of vegetables and cut up chicken breast playing around in a boiling broth. “It’s your favorite, off you go now baby. Take a quick shower and when you’re back, the table will be set”. Changbin placed a peck on his lovers lips before they dashed off to the bathroom.

Mere minutes later, Yn found themself back in the kitchen. Two bowls placed on the small table, steam dancing in the air. The young couple sat down before digging into a delicious meal.

“You said your day was exhausting, mind telling me what happened, baby?” The male mentioned, eyes locking with Yn’s. They swallowed down the food, licking the remaining spice off their lips before speaking.

“My boss was in a bad mood, she let out all her rage on us. Gosh, she was unbearable and I was so close to punching her”, Yn whined.

Changbin giggled at his partner’s antics, he found ninety percent of what they did cute. The way they slept, laughed and hummed a melody when doing the chores. The way their eyes sparkled and the most beautiful smile adoring their face, anytime he brought home a bouquet of pretty flowers.

“Man, she stressed the hell out of me today, bin” Yn groaned, throwing their head back in annoyance. “Is there anything I can do to help you, my love?” The younger shook their head, “no, this meal was delicious though, thank you.”

-

After having finished cleaning the dishes and clearing up the table, the couple found themselves in the bedroom. “Uhm, actually… there is something that could help me right now Binnie” Yn admitted.

Changbin looked up from his phone, he was laying on the king sized bed, waiting for his love to crawl into bed with him. “And what is that, pretty?” The latter shyly looked down at their feet, “can I have a hug? Just one hug from you always makes me feel so much better.”

The male pouted at their adorable behavior, “come here, my cutie!” He immediately locked his phone, throwing it next to him. His now unoccupied arms stretching wide, perfectly enough to have a person fit in between them. And Yn did just that, they climbed onto his chest.

He was warm, like always. They could hear his steady heartbeat beating rhythmically -like a calm melody, ready to lull them into their dreams.

“Are you felling better, my love?” His soothing voice sent a heavy effect onto their eyes. Yn hummed,”mhm, it’s so comfy here, Binnie . Never wanna leave your arms, ever. again.”

A shaking rattled through his chest, his head was thrown back in delight. The sound of his beautiful laugh rippling through the air and disturbing the silence sounded.

“I’m glad then, go to sleep baby. It’s late and you need to get your well deserved beauty sleep.” The last words of Yn’s boyfriends were slurred in a mush of letters.

A light kiss was placed on their forehead, an insider sign that they would use as a sign to protect, take care and love their partner.

Light snores echoed against the bedroom’s walls, a bundle of arms and legs tingled together on the bed. Changbin knew that he had found the one whose mood would change for the better with just one hug. Who he would propose to very soon, whom he will live and cherish for as long as he breathes.

As long as he breathes, he’d give them all his love and care. His warm arms and middle to use as a very own teddy bear.

[cg920fire]

(There's both a TL;DR and a poll at the bottom; the TL;DR is right above the poll btw)

I was discussing about romance in media with a couple of people on a Discord server. I asked for feedback on one of my ships to see if they would fit a comment someone made that romance in media is that it isn't enough to have a healthy romance but the dynamic must introduce something entertaining that compensates for the lost spice and tension.

I shared the description of my ship (basically a F/F OC ship for my Hamlet fic):

Side A (Clytie):

Clytie is a passionate, devoted lover towards her girlfriend, Solana, who loves her back just as much. She treasures Solana and loves her with every ounce of her being. Solana is the sun to her moon, and whenever they're together, Clytie lights up (no pun intended) from her usual dreary personality, bringing out a more playful, snarky side to her. Clytie is extremely protective of her, giving hell for those that seek to harm her and calls off people that try flirting with her. She is aware of Solana's naivety and how gullible she is, making her easy prey in a morally gray world, adding incentive for Clytie to protect her. Sometimes, she's too overprotective to the point that Solana is quite restricted in what she can do and only lessens it if Solana directly calls her out on it. The concept of intentionally hurting Solana is unimaginable to Clytie and if she upsets Solana, she'll apologize profusely and attempt to make up for it..

Side B (Solana):

Solana loves Clytie with all of her heart and is very affectionate towards her. However, the former found the latter to be too overprotective of her and is legitimately concerned that Clytie won't be able to function independently from her. As much as she loves her, Solana doesn't want Clytie to be so reliant on her. Being the saner woman in the relationship means that Solana keeps Clytie on track and has been trying to teach her to not be so dependent on her. She'll speak up if she feels that Clytie has been too obsessive over her.

That person then responded that it's a realistic, pretty healthy and sweet relationship albeit the overprotectiveness might be cliche but it doesn't stand out in terms of appearing entertaining unless it's a major romance that isn't a big deal to worry about.

This ship is what my fic focuses on. It is an angst fic and Clytie is not above revenge like Hamlet.

And more on the fic, this isn't a 100% fluff fic. There are fluff scenes but they're in-between the angst and trauma. This is a fic that's a tragedy and going to have the Major Character Death warning. So, perhaps the sweetness of the relationship is like the light within the grim darkness of the fic and if something happens to it, you know that shit has hit the fan?

TL;DR: Was told that my ship, while healthy and sweet, is not interesting enough to be the focus of my story

[laufire]

trope selection tag game

I was tagged by @comebackali (ty!)

enemies to lovers or friends to lovers - I'm more of a lovers to enemies gal, but I given that this would be the trope to follow for my current otp (and I have quite a few other important ones there), I went with ETL, despite being... very picky about it, tbqh lol.

coffee shop au or flower shop au - I'm not particularly into either, but I picked flower shop just based on the fact that I know Dinah owns one in a Green Arrow run I have yet (but plan) to read lmfao.

hurt/comfort or there was only one bed - I do enjoy a good h/c story, and I don't particularly feel the appeal of the only-one-bed scenario lol.

found family or partners in crime - DEFINITELY PARTNERS IN CRIME. PARTNERS IN CRIME IS THE BEST FUCKING THING A SHIP CAN BE. I LOVE IT SM.

canon compliant or canon divergent - I'm into both, but writing-wise I often go for the "hey, would it be fucked up if this happened instead", so xD

domesticity or pwp- "porn porn porn!!!" <- keeping that answer from prev xD

fluff or angst with a happy ending - "fluff is boring, give me angst any day" <- also keeping that one! I also dig angst without a happy ending lol, but tbf finding good examples in fic can be an uphill battle.

1st person pov or 3rd person pov - I love 1st person in original fiction but I must admit I have yet to find an example where I don't find it jarring in fic. Maybe because I read about characters I have thought a lot about and I already have an idea of what their voices "should" sound like...? IDK. Food for thought. Specially as I have a WIP in the works that includes diary entries lol.

soulmates or forbidden love - I only tolerate soulmates if it's horror, hate the trope as a "romantic" one lol.

roommates or fake dating - fake dating can be fun. Especially if it's for undercover shenanigans.

slow burn or meet-cute - I'm a fan of the Meet Ugly (and really, isn't that a meet-cute in a way xD) and tend to feel underwhelmed with most slow burns.

love triangle or polyamorous relationship - I definitely enjoy the latter, especially if there's DRAMA in it (also been really feeling jaytimia lately) BUT rn I feel like defending love triangles. There should be more and they should be messy. And weirder, instead of relying on the same ol' (wildly heteronormative) structures.

royalty au or magic au - honestly, both are so varied depending on context that I can't choose. Why not both. Fairy tale AU style. I do love a good fairy tale AU.

high school/college au or neighbours au - sometimes I write characters who go to school or who are neighbours by that's different from a School AU TM or a Neighbours AU TM... those tend to be very mundane and that's not my thing lol.

mutual pining or idiots to lovers - most mutual pining scenarios make me think the characters are idiots* and/or not as intensely in love as I'm supposed to believe them to be and. I don't care for that lol. *I can be more forgiving about idiocy depending on character age but if it's grown adults I get more and more frustrated about it lmao.

tagging: @hellispeacefullandempty @nomattertheoceans @nightingalesighs @blairwaldcrf @jaynotwayne

@iamnotawomanimagod @lucerants @nicoleanell @the-greendalehumanbeings @wowthatsextra and whoever feels up for it!

[dramatisperscnae]

bold which trope you prefer ( or, in some cases, maybe just hate the least! ):

slowburn or love at first sight.

fake dating or secret dating.

enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers. [porque no los dos??]

oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence.

hurt / comfort or amnesia.

fantasy au or modern au. [again, why not both??]

mutual pining or domestic bliss.

smut or fluff. [fuckin BOTH gdi]

canon-compliant or fix-it.

reincarnation or character death.[considering the former requires the latter...?]

one-shot or multi chapters.

kid fic or road trip fic.

arranged marriage or accidental marriage.

college romance or middle aged romance.

time travel or isolated together.

neighbors or roommates.

sci-fi au or magic au. [combine them you cowards]

angst or crack.

apocalyptic or mundane.

Taken from: @thecreativeforge Tagging: @1rstflight, @defectivexfragmented, anyone bored enough idk >w>

[jellybeanium124]

so first off SALS includes the right both to like and hate a ship. it just means be chill. but basically as someone who (sorry) enjoys steddyhands/stizzy (sorry)... man I wish more of people who were into it were normal (sorry again). like dude it sucks having to basically go into fics with a checklist of things that it needs to do or avoid, or suddenly hitting one sentence and going "fuck this shit, I'm out."

I've always been a crack-ish multishipper. putting characters into relationships who are not canonically in one and maybe shouldn't be and thinking about what might happen has always been fun for me. relationships are emotionally intense and great for character drama/interactions in general. and these ships only work if you soften izzy. like obviously. I think there are ways to do it that keep him more recognizable, but sometimes people just don't care.

to me, stizzy without steddyhands only works in some kind of au where neither of them know ed, and even then I think you should ask yourself why you are pairing them together and not gentlebeard. I think there are legitimately premises that you could explore with stizzy and not with gentlebeard. on the most basic levels there's the enemies-to-lovers thing, but there's also izzy's toxic masculinity/internalized homophobia issues. how would he deal with being in a relationship with his complete antithesis? how would this force him to confront his inner demons? how would stede react to these struggles? how would he try to help, and when would he get mad at izzy for being an asshole? you can write a story where getting together with stede forces ed to confront his inner demons, but the stizzy version of that and the gentlebeard version of that are not going to be the same story.

in the end, I think this comes down to a very basic disconnect (besides the racism and shitty tropes, and all that). in my mind there are two kinds of fanfiction: fanfiction that exists primarily to be in communication with its source text, and fanfiction that exists primarily to get an emotional response out of the audience (porn, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, any emotion, basically). this isn't a one-or-the-other situation, but every fic and every writer thinks one of these is more important than the other. every fic favors one of those goals. and having the latter goal isn't a bad thing! most bad fics have the latter goal, but not every fic with the latter goal is a bad fic.

stizzy and steddyhands, as ships, do not exist primarily to be in communication with the source text. and if they are, that communication is usually opinions I don't like (izzy deserves to be a protagonist or some shit, yknow). these ships exist for porn, for hurt/comfort, for angst, for fluff, for creating a highly specific emotional experience for the author and readers. "well why are they even writing fanfiction then?"/"why don't they go find other characters who are closer to the dynamic they're writing" because they are attached to these characters and want them involved in these emotions, and because they are okay with their work being very different from the source material.

idk if this makes any sense lol. it's not exactly a defense or anything. it's definitely not a defense of people who think ed needs to be babysat, fuck those guys. I guess I just kinda wanted to give my perspective on why these ship interest me? I think a lot of y'all's posts on the subject come down to: "why would anyone like this? it wouldn't work in canon" and the canyon response to that is "well it does actually *some fucking bullshit, etc etc*" and my response to that is "I know, I'm fine with that, I just like the situations it opens up and I like the emotional catharsis I can experience from some of these fics, even tho they are 'bad fics' in that they are not in any sort of real communication with the source text." and you can think that's bad lol, like it does sound kinda bad when I write it out like that. but you can't get the specific flavors of emotional catharsis from fics from any other medium of art, generally speaking. not in the same way, not easily, and not in 2k words.

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Tis the season I suppose, idk why but I’ve been so productive lately with writing. I can’t believe I’ve been finishing fics! I’m all set with the winter solstice event, just finished the first draft of the otp prompts, shared the next chapter of the sibling verse with vordark my beloved, and added another scene to devour even though I said it might be done. That’s honestly the only one I’m iffy about right now, I do think this is a good spot to end it but I almost feel like something’s missing? But that’s kinda the whole point. Cause this isn’t supposed to be a normal lots of love happily ever after. It’s a plethora of emotions, like yes they stay together but at what cost? And was there ever really a choice? But how could there even be another option when they’ve proven time and time again their love is true? Idk I’ll sit on it for a little bit.

Really my only ongoing WIPs at this point are midnights and the sibling verse. The former I should write more of since I’ve only written the first three chapters. The latter I’ve low key been updating weekly, but it’s been so easy to do. I just need time to sit and write it since all the planning for the major things are done.

This burst of energy is making me ambitious and wondering if I can maybe tackle some works that’s I’ve been dreaming of but never thought I could pull off… decisions decisions

I have a poll in my drafts that I plan to also post as a new work on ao3 for 24 hours. I just have so many ideas and I want to get to them but it’s just so impossible. Plus I kinda really want to work on being better at prompts, I’m so self indulgent that it makes me terrible at writing prompts. It’s why I don’t openly accept them, though I always gain inspiration from chats with fellow shippers.

I talk a lot about community and fandom, because that truly is why I love it so much. I love the interactions we have and how we build each other up, but a lot of the times it feels like I’m just screaming by myself over these two idiots who are so in love it kills me. *sigh it really doesn’t help that I have very strong opinions and reactions towards certain ships. Plus I’m in the minority of being a strict fluff lover, this ship is way too tragic for me I can’t bear it. I don’t want angst, I’m not interested in it nor do I want to be. Life is too depressing already, so please don’t add to it in fiction.

I’m just a fangirl who wants to read about her ship falling in love and making it work over and over again, is that too much to ask?

Update: I have like five things in my drafts ready to post, updates for midnights, sibling verse, devour, and the last entry for the year of the otp prompts! Also have a poll for what to work on next cause I apparently have a thing for starting multiple WIPs at once *sigh. I also need to make a draft for my winter solstice piece cause I’m done with that. Will also consider leaving flowers for my fav winter fics, but that will be on my main account most likely cause I do like to keep my fangirling separate when I can

[knuxboi]

[ fuchsia]

―  𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑾. ( send one or more of these to get to know the person behind the blog a little better. ) // acceptinggg

[ fuchsia ]  bonus round: angst or fluff? one-liners or paras? plotting or winging it? memes or starter calls? single muse or multimuse?

angst/fluff: i can't choose because both have their interesting sides imo. my true weakness is hurt/comfort ;;

one-liners/para: one-liners are harder to do than paras to me, so i'm going by the latter (at least w knux i'm suffering to do one liners ahhah)

winging/plot: winging it is crazy, i love it so much. i love both because plot helps you to have more or less an idea of how to make things, but winging it... y'know, it feels like playing dnd and going by what the dice says x3

memes/startor calls: both... though, i think... depends. sometimes new ideas come and everything but... then a random meme comes by and you're like 'hey, sounds crazy but maybe our muses can...' idk, start a drawing course together for example. super random. i love that of memes.

single/multi: *insert why not both meme for single or multimuse* i prefer to roleplay with both. but i, as mun, feel better managing single muses. not to mention i once tried to manage multimuses and for the love of god, i admire all those who do it. like, ma'am. keep it up, i praise your power and otherworldly skills.

[aliparo]

He wasn’t usually like this.

Frantic, scattered, distracted — no, Kamisato Ayato wasn’t usually like this at all. Even Ayaka could catch on to that.

“Are you alright?” she inquires, eyes concerned and figure poised to assist her brother as he needs, whenever he may ask for it.

Ayato gazes into the vast sea a second longer then sighs. “I’m fine,” he tells her, “Don’t worry.”

“You’ve had that frown on your face for some time now,” she says, worry still evident, “Is this beach not to your liking? Has something upset you?”

“It’s…” he begins, then he sees a flash of a smile in his head, “nothing.”

Ayaka didn’t press him further, reclining back into her chair, but he could still feel her concern in waves. He sighs again. He wasn’t usually like this.

It was out of character for him to be so caught up one thing and not take action to solve his worries or frustrations. It was even more out of character that he was stressed by a person, rather than a situation.

It was most foreign, above all, that he was so… emotionally attached to the matter at hand.

You.

Your smile, hidden behind a hand or directed at the person you were talking to; your smile, sometimes suppressed, sometimes free (and how often you had smiled in both ways for him).

Your eyes, expressive and telling — they would widen in surprise or when you were about to laugh; they would narrow when you were getting annoyed, or when you were drowsy; they would sparkle when you were happy, and they would flood with worry and alarm depending on what situation arises.

Your voice (always pleasing to hear), your head (often shifting into an adorable tilt), your arms (sometimes wrapping around him, for various reasons), your back (rarely ever being turned back on him out of something negative) — you in your entirety.

Gone.

But Ayato could still see you in the sea, which had probably carried your boat all the way to some faraway land, far away from him; he could still see you in his mind, and you haunt him like never before.

He was too slow to catch on, too busy to sort out his personal matters, too inexperienced to know of his true feelings. He had always liked your presence — always showing up at the Kamisato Estate as you help Thoma carry extra materials, always eating at some food stall in Inazuma City as Ayato walks from one business meeting to another, always offering to accompany him so he wouldn’t feel so out of place in bustling environments… he had always enjoyed being in your presence, but he was too late to realize the extent of it.

It was only upon reading your letter, detailing your travel plans out of Inazuma for at least a year now that the Sakoku Decree has been lifted, that he felt uncomfortably unhappy with some acquaintance leaving him. The next moment, he found himself staring at the sea from the docks of Ritou, too many words left unsaid and too many feelings that finally couldn’t be left unattended.

Stay, but that may seem too demanding. I wanted to spend more time with you, and it soon led to I’ll miss you and… I like you, which was just as abrupt for him as it would have been for you.

I like you, he kept replaying in his mind, the only clear thing amidst everything that was going on inside of him. It was more than just the tolerating ‘like,’ but he could not yet discern whether it was a like of a greater romantic value. It was overwhelming, that’s for sure, and he wanted to be with you as he figured it out.

He likes you, because you make him happy, and he looks forward to the times you pop up throughout his day. He likes you, because… he can’t describe all else he feels about you; you pull him in every time, and he willingly (and with a smile) lets you. This is how he ‘likes’ you.

And having all that realized too late and left unvoiced, combined with how he has no idea how to at least let you know — he feels as if you were still pulling him, tugging at his heartstrings from somewhere in the world that he doesn’t know, and it leaves him unfocused, distracted, out of character.

He wasn’t usually like this — helpless and unable to take action.

But, at this point, what else can he do other than stare at the sea and long for you?

[turianmailman]

This started out as being fluff but ended in angst -- OOPS

Thats right more Stardew Valley AU -- Yes she has 12 siblings cause idk Ducks have a lot of ducklings

Also yall coulda just talked business partners, but we left our brain cells back home

Transcript under cut in case my handwriting is causing Crimes

Fakir: Duck..what do you look for in a partner... Duck: Huh? Like...a business partner, or a romantic partner? Fakir: Either I guess. Duck: Why you asking? Ya wanna enter a business venture? Or getting married? Fakir: Just making conversation Duck, calm down.

Duck: Hmmmm.....Well...to be honest....I never gave much thought to either of those things...but especially the latter. Fakir: City life that busy, was it? Duck: *sighs* No, that wasn't it. My family is kinda big. Big families sort of have a bad habit of getting in each other's business. A lot of love, but a lot of responsibility to go around, y'know? Fakir: Mm. Duck: I'm the youngest of twelve - while I was growing up, almost all my siblings were basically starting their lives elsewhere. I was always helping gramps, or my parents.....I don't know - nothing ever came up with the whole romance thing....

Duck: So I have a hard time imagining what I'd want, when I don't even know what I'd want, y'know...if that even made sense, ha ha! ...... besides. I don't think I'd make a very good girlfriend. Fakir: ?! Duck: - omigosh - that came out SO self-deprecating!! I just meant I don't think I'm ready for a relationship, I'm super forgetful, so I'd forget anniversaries 'n stuff, I'm not very responsible - tho I'm trying - but I'm also clumsy and have a hard time self - regulating - I-I think it just would be a lot to deal with!

Duck: A-Anyway, that's what I meant...by that... Fakir: ...... You're right. You are all those things.

Fakir: But by that standard...of being clumsy, forgetful, imperfect, no one would find love. Maybe someone likes when you get a little too excited. Someone might find your forgetfulness endearing or your clumsiness. There might even be someone who sees how hard you try and want to help you...

Fakir: They may even see parts of you that you overlook. Like how you're the first person to do something when someone is in need. Or how you stop your car in the middle of the road to move a turtle to the other side. Of they *chuckle* remember that just. Bonkers face you made when you caught that carp first try. If you waited until you wiped away all your imperfections...I don't think anyone would get to enjoy those parts of you. I get not being ready. Solitude is comfortable. I just think...imperfect...incomplete people, deserve a chance at love too. To deny that chance seems unfair....

Fakir: *cough* If...If i can like you just fine, then, um, someone else will definitely see what I see. Or whatever *m-hm* Duck: *is sobbing* Fakir: ! Oh - Duck

Fakir: Duck I'm -- Th-That was a lot, I'm sorry, that was my stupid writers brain kicking into high gear - I-I didn't mean to - OOF!

Duck: *through tears* No one - has ev-ever - been so n-nice to meeeee! Fakir: ....No one.....ever told you .... you were worthy...? Duck: Y-Y-YEAAAAAaaaaa

Fakir: ssshhhhh....It's okay Duck....It's okay.....It's okay...