#there's something so appealing about a clueless reader who's screaming on the inside and is actually doing rapid mental gymnastics-

[iyohme]

The horror would DEFINITELY arrive when you're a civilian in Gotham tho. No combat training, knife skills only used for cooking or scraping nasty shit off walls, and flexibility just enough to pass gym class or sprint to commute for your nine-to-five work.

But there's the uncanny ability to always be able to avoid certain areas before certain incidents happen or disasters strike (because istg gotham has a high mortality/injury rate, despite efforts). Telling close friends or relatives that "What if we take a little detour before going home," or "I heard that there was something bad happening at so-and-so," or "Why don't we eat out over here instead?" Little coincidences and hints that pile up and slowly raise eyebrows, as deaths and injuries in some little spots of crime-ridden Gotham slowly but surely decline in number. Maybe you're a clairvoyant--that's not unheard (or unthought) of. But then there's the uncanny way you walk, as if unused to your body, the way you squint and say things like "Oh right, that's not my table this time," as you look at an antique bedside table in a shop, and the way you seem to be looking through people, not at people. (Like reading a book, or watching a movie. Like something else: a theatergoer watching actors speak out lines on a grand play.)

But pretty sure what WILL bring the (bat)fam to the yard will be the VERY obvious goodwill Reader would display. They could keep these little prophecies to themselves, make sure they're safe alone; or take advantage of it and be an add-on to the ever-expanding Rogue's Gallery. But instead, you do the little things: give up your train seat despite being dead tired to someone who needs it more, carefully craft words to steer clear of certain danger-prone areas with logical reasoning, feed stray cats that may have been scared out of their homes by attacks, and even scouring streets for any unburied ones that should be buried.

ngl this has made me THINK, thank you so much for the brain juice OP!

thinking of yandere batfam's isekai'd darling.....

you are well aware of who these people are, what they've been through, and what they're capable of. though they can't find out that you know-- god knows what they'd do to you if they deem you a threat.

and you do well in keeping your secrets, the only catch is that you've gotten their attention.

it could've been the way your eyes seemed to see right through them, reaching into their souls and unraveling them to their very core. or the way you smiled at them as if you knew something they didn't.

you're careful with your words, always thinking thoroughly of what to say. you feared the day would come when you expose yourself through a slip of the tongue.

you use your knowledge to your advantage, navigating skillfully through conversations. with such a deep insight on their personalities, you can sugarcoat your words as needed.

they knew everything about you as well, of course. though they wouldn't doubt their intel so much if you didn't seem so... detached. as if your heart and mind weren't truly present.

the air of mystery you carried, and your halfheartedness, made you a puzzle they needed to solve.

hey, keep your eyes on me— are you listening? don't let your mind wander, okay? someone really needs to do something about your zoning out. it's alright, soon enough they'll have your attention wholly on them.

something i quickly whipped up....... i love the idea of isekai'd darking so much...... it always feels like you've got the upper hand, no? i'll come back to this idea when i think of more things to add hehe

[aerois]

Remarried Empress: Sovieshu Contextualized and Navier the Unreliable Narrator (SPOILERS!)

So recently I started reading Remarried Empress on WEBTOON. Honestly the whole premise wasn’t my cup of tea and I was solely reading it because it was part of an event where I could get free coins (lol). But then... I got hooked. I got invested. Started drinking in chapters whenever and wherever I could, and even now I still crave more. I wanted Navier to have some semblance of a happy ending (and, let’s be honest, I wanted to drag that precious little bitch Trashta by her fucking hair across the yard). At first it was mostly that. Raging at Trashta and her Simperor, pondering at Heinley’s true intentions, drooling over Kaufman. 

And then, I noticed something odd. I noticed-- the strangest thing-- Sovieshu seemed to be... not as enamored with his mistress as meets the eye. And there was even some hinting that his feelings for Navier weren’t what we assumed.

I have to preface this: I don’t condone Sovieshu’s crappy actions. He’s an idiot, and acts very poorly as a husband. And there’s no excuse for cheating. Absolutely not! So I don’t want this post to come across like In Defense of Sovieshu, because it’s not. But I do think that our view, the reader’s view, of Sovieshu, is warped. And this is mainly because we see the story through Navier’s eyes of course, but we forget that every individual person is fallible. Every person, at some point, harbors false assumptions that color their concepts of truth and reality. Put shortly, Navier is human, and therefore is not a reliable narrator at some points. Especially concerning her husband. We see Sovieshu entirely through the eyes of his wronged wife in the webcomic. Pin that: in the webcomic. Did you know the webcomic is actually based on a mobile game? Yes, it is! And I downloaded it! And I’m playing it! And... I’m actually... hating Sovieshu less?????????? 

Ok, ok, put the pitchforks down! Hear me out! I’m not saying any of the stuff he did was okay! But Navier’s narration of the story paints him as this cold, detached man who grew to hate his wife so much that he flew into the arms of some hussy for warmth and then just cast his wife aside and deliberately acted like a jerk just because he wanted her to suffer.  And there’s a grain of truth to that. There are points where Sovieshu feels bitter and does or says something waspish. But it’s not as black and white as you might assume. I played the mobile game, and decided to take Sovieshu’s route out of spite. I opened this app, saw it was an otome with this garbage-fire, cheating sack of shit for a romance option and thought “Hah! The nerve. Probably some semi-abusive dirtbag route aimed to appeal to girls who like men who treat them badly. You know, that mutually abusive relationship appeal that some girls like because drama.” And I needed to rack up in-game currency anyway (it’s like usual mobile games, where when you wanna make cool choices you gotta cough up cash unless you “diamond-mine” on crappy stories to save up the meager bits of free currency the app gives you for playing) so I figured I’d blast through the Sovieshu route and skip onto my darling Kaufman in playthrough 2.

And then the smoke genuinely compelling character development got me. So I could run y’all through Navier’s version of the events, but you already know that. For Sovieshu though? Here’s the kicker: this idiot has had a raging passion for his wife slowly building up for years throughout their entire lives, and only realizes it about halfway through the events of the story. This idiot, this buffon, this absolute brain-dead dolt... didn’t even realize he was pining over his own wife until he was about to explode from the desperation from it all. God, I wish I was joking. Lemme break it down for you:

Sovieshu’s POV: He and Navier are introduced as kids and are told they’ll be married someday. Life partners. They are raised in tandem to respect and care for one another. Kinda smacks of grooming (go mom and dad!) but whatever, that’s the background. These kids are mentally regarding each other as spouses their entire conscious lives. And Sovieshu, as he grows, quickly comes to realize his intended is a selfless girl who holds everything inside. The first spark of his affection for her is wrapped in this: that Sovieshu longs for Navier to take off her “perfect princess” mask and let herself be vulnerable with him. He admires her intellingence, her grace, and her devotion to her country. He looks at her and sees someone that inspires him. He craves the opportunity to comfort and protect her. He waits, and these opportunities come in small instances. But they get older, their burdens get heavier, and like most young women, Navier gets better at pretending nothing is wrong with her and putting everyone else first. Sovieshu feels more distant from her. But that desire to break through her wall still stands.

They marry, but Navier, in her infinite wisdom, makes the assumption that this marriage is entirely political (despite...the fact... that they were raised together??? they were literally best friends their entire lives??? are y’all seeing how this could be confusing for him???) and that there are absolutely no feelings involved on Sovieshu’s side. Expect there’s that little problem. That little problem. Of Navier’s absolute inability to be vulnerable. And so she starts this marriage all Elsa-Conceal-Don’t-Feel convinced that her husband (whom she is secretly in love with, shocker) holds no warmth for her because she’s never received any from him. 

Now I’ll acknowledge that this is a two way street, where Sovieshu fails as well. Should Navier have made a mature decision and asked for love and support when she needed it? Yes. Should Sovieshu have offered anyway, despite not knowing that she wanted it at all? Yes. They’re both in the wrong here. They’re both too passive, too afraid.

So the first few years of their marriage pass by like this. And Navier kinda melts into more of a depressed state over it, while Sovieshu becomes frustrated. But he doesn’t know why. He hasn’t quite put his finger on the fact that HE’S IN LOVE WITH HIS WIFE, GEE WHAT A SURPRISE BUDDY. And then... the little ingenue comes in. Trashta, with her crocodile tears, oversharing of emotions, co-dependent as all get-out. You see where I’m headed, right? It’s not just that she’s the opposite of Navier that gets Sovieshu hooked. It’s that she gives him that opportunity to unburden all this pent up romantic frustration. He can comfort, and protect, and wipe away the tears of a woman who loves him... And for a while, it’s intoxicating. That itch is finally being scratched.

Or so it seems. Because sooner or later, Sovieshu realizes that this woman is not his wife. And she’s a bit clingy, and clueless, and she’s... well, she’s not his wife. She’s not his wife. 

“Oh, dear God...” the idiot finally realizes. “I don’t want this hussy. I want my wife!” 

Ding ding ding! You did it! And it only took you--what? 20 years? After all this time, Sovieshu (and the audience playing his route) realizes. He’s not cheating because he’s bored, or because he hates his wife, or because he’s Inherently An Asshole And That’s What Assholes Do. He’s cheating because he’s using this woman as a stand-in for his wife. He’s been looking straight through this woman and seeking his wife the entire time. He’s cheating because he’s stupid and repressed and misguided and human. And again, that doesn’t excuse it. He still cheated, and that’s something he needs to spend a life-time making up for. It’s a mistake, and a big one. But it’s not fueled by a malicious hatred or a desire to hurt her. It’s fueled by confusion and fear. And, strangely enough, a desire to perform love for his wife.

So anyway, this stupid dweeb finally wakes up and realizes that no matter how much he plays around with the Town Skank, it doesn’t slate that thirst for the woman he’s spent his life growing to love. And that he actually, truly loves her to begin with. Now at this point, Navier was away travelling, doing queenly stuff. And he gets a message from a servant-- his wife is home. This boy books it. This man throws down what he’s doing, sprints across the imperial palace, to stumble at the feet of his wife; red-faced and breathless, absolutely undone. This man is screaming for his wife on the inside and now nothing he can do will quiet it. And his wife, ever the perfect pinnacle of a monarch, just raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him and wonders what’s got him in such a tizzy.

This is where the difference between the narratives hits especially hard. Navier has absolutely no clue that her husband is a hair-thin thread of self-control away from all of this just completely spilling out of him. She looks at him and sees a tormentor; someone who’s treating her like a used doll. And he sees this Goddess that’s been hiding in plain sigh the whole time. He sees his sins and repents before this, his wife, his almighty Goddess. But he doesn’t know what to do. She’s still been hurt by him, Trashta is still in their lives, and damn it all, he’s still frustrated. He still feels bitter and abandoned because even after everything, even after the years of marriage, his wife just seems so unaffected by him. This is where Navier’s “perfect queen” image that she tries so hard to curate really bites her in the ass.

These two dumbasses are hopelessly in love with each other but they’re deadlocked in an endless cycle of letting their prides get in the way. Navier doesn’t want to be vulnerable. Sovieshu doesn’t want to compromise, doesn’t know how to not lash out in anger when he’s really feeling sad. Unlike Navier, he can express emotions-- but not in a heathy way. So he says something mean, does something kinda shitty. And Navier thinks it’s because he delights in her suffering. So Sovieshu’s over here in his head like a cranky little child that’s mad at mommy because she’s on the phone, and Navier is over there in her head wondering why on earth her husband can’t notice a love that she’s never actually expressed to him. And it’s just terrible. But kind of hilarious. Mostly sad and terrible. But defintely hilarious.

To further illustrate this: even a lot of Sovieshu’s actions, for that matter, get warped by Navier’s unreliable narration. WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD. THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! In the chapter where Trashta is stabbed, Sovieshu immediately screams for guards to surround Navier. So I’ll sum up their thought processes here.

Navier: Oh my God, I can’t believe this asshole. Calling the guards? He really fuckin thinks I did this?! Jerk! Asshole! He really thinks I’d arrange for a pregnant woman to be stabbed!! He’s probably deliberately framing me too, so he can get me out of the way and live happily ever after with her!

Sovieshu: OH MY GOD, MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE COULD GET STABBED NEXT SOMEONE HELP well actually maybe she had something to do with it? nah. prolly not. but even if she did idgaf I LOVE MY WIFE, I’LL COVER FOR YOU BABY I’LL FORGIVE WHATEVER. GUARDS, FIND WHO DID THE STABBING SO THEY DON’T STAB MY PERFECT WIFE NEXT

Like I wish I was joking, but that’s how it read. Anyway, I’m not done with the comic or the game yet. But Sovieshu’s motivations aren’t all as they seem. And while he’s not a perfect husband, he has the capacity to mature, let down his pride, and make steps toward atoning to his wife. I honestly and genuinely believe this marriage could be salvageable if they could come clean with each other. A lot of people want to root for Kaufman or Heinley, and I get it. Those two would probably treat her well. But the fact stands that these two are married, and surprisingly, they both actually still hold a spark of love for one another. If Sovieshu could genuinely repent, and demonstrate this to Navier, they would attain the happy marriage with each other that they both strive for. Anyway, I find myself surprisingly hooked on the story now that I see Sovieshu’s POV. He’s not a hero in this story by any means, but I’m somehow, against my better judgement, rooting for him. I’m rooting for him to make the right choices and repair his marriage. 

It’s a bold strategy, folks. Let’s see how it pays off.

[potaetaezz]

|| Sweet Like Coffee || 16

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pairing: Nct Dream x Reader  [female]

genre/au: fluff | angst | enemies to lovers | Everyone is just a clueless bunch of weirdos, you get the drill… or so you thought.

warnings: slight swearing, immature content, underage drinking

A/N: its’s my first fanfic so no judgment lol | here we go~

_____________________________________

His words were sharper than a blade, more direct than an arrow, and they were aimed at you. They hit the target; your heart. You felt them sink in, you heard your breath hitch. You could almost feel the blood leak out, leaving a bruise across your chest. Your breath now shallow, heartbeat slow. But that wasn’t enough, it was never enough. You felt his words wrap around your beating organ like a snake, imprisoning it. And then compress it, crush it, until it cracked, shattered into pieces too small to pick up, too frail to save. His words were chosen to hurt you, and they did. But they did more than just that, they damaged you.

Your heart ached, you froze, soaking in the embarrassment like a sponge. Jaemin didn’t even spare you a backward glance as he walked away from you, from what he said. He saw your smile fade, he watched your hope fall, and he chose to walk away. Someone’s hands were squeezing the air out of your lungs, gripping your throat. A tear threatened to fall as your lips trembled. He was cruel. He never changed. He was always the narcissistic cold person who spilled coffee on you and apologised with pick up line. People like that never change. It was too easy to forget his true self, too simple to neglect his reputation. One that you never truly believed in. Until now.

You were trapped in memories, in emotions and you couldn’t escape. As if drowning in water. 

You just stood there, staring at the steps where he sat just moments before, at the door where he turned his back on you, at yourself in the reflection of the moonlight. Your shadow, as pathetic as you had imagined. One tear finally escaped your eyelashes, rolling silently off the curve of your lip. Your eyes began to water, fill up with anger and hatred and despair. 

You remembered the girl, the one with effortless hair and beautiful dress. The one who’s eyes only saw Jaemin, filled with affection and longing. An ache tugged at your insides, begging you to turn away. But you couldn’t. You remembered his words, smothered in a callousness you had never heard before. Words that you begged him to take back. Words that you never wanted to hear again. 

You remembered his face. 

The one you wished to erase, but never could. The one etched in the darkest part of your brain. His appeal, his perfection flawlessly captured. A face you hadn’t seen in a long time, one you missed. But now, thinking of it, thinking of him, you felt sick. Disgusted by him, by yourself. For actually thinking he cared, for believing he could possibly like you back.

 Just moments before you had accepted your feelings which you had swallowed, hushed in the past. Just moments earlier you were filled with an immense sense of hope. But you should’ve known better. Your stupidity was the cause of this. You let this happen. And that foolishness sickened you.

You tore your gaze from the door, from the past, and faced the worn path home. 

Falling into the arms of your bed felt nothing like Jaemin’s, but you would never admit it. Embraced by the duvet, you felt weak for once, overwhelmed by fatigue. A worn-out heart, mind, tired of caring. It’s better not to care, but it’s easier said than done. You dared to endeavor a positive outlook, as you stared at the ceiling. You tried an optimistic approach. You attempted to comfort yourself by saying ‘it’s okay’, but it was Jaemin. You wanted nothing more than to hide under the blanket forever. Maybe that should’ve been your birthday wish and not ‘for Jaemin to come back to school’. 

Your eyes wandered to the book on the dresser. The ‘goodbye gift’ as he called it. You were curious as to what he wrote, but you couldn’t bear to open it. You wouldn’t let yourself open it. You had too much of Jaemin already today.

And soon enough, you fell into the arms of sleep instead. Wrapped in a peaceful slumber. Where your mind couldn’t think and your heart couldn’t beg. 

———

Wednesday [8:15]

Waking up was the easiest part of the day, because for that split second, that moment right before you breathed, you forgot. You forgot everything. And it was peaceful. It was great. It almost tricked you into thinking the day would be okay, but you were tricked before. You wouldn’t fall for it again. You learned your lesson. 

You didn’t tell anyone what happened last night. Not even Lila or Renjun. If you said it aloud maybe the pain would be worse, perhaps the ache would pull you apart instead. To relive that by saying it aloud, would be torture. To actually hear yourself explaining how pathetic you are to someone else, would be agony. So you kept it to yourself because there was no other option than to suffer alone.

“Uhh y/n, DC or Marvel?”

“Wh-what?” you said. Renjun pulling you from the prison of your thoughts.

“DC or Marvel?”

“Oh, Marvel, for sure.” 

“Good.” he laughed, “Everyone agrees apart from Haechan.”

“It’s not my fault Batman is a legit legend!” Haechan whined.

You caught Jeno’s gaze, one that was as enticing as it was affectionate. It was a familiar gaze, one you had held on the porch the night of Haechan’s party. Although it was familiar, it was different. He looked as if he was surveying the deepest parts of you, but at the same time admiring them. You held his gaze, not backing away, but something felt different. Something similar to longing stretched between you both. It twisted a part of you the longer you held it.

And then a familiar voice drew your eyes away, and you held your breath instead.

There he was, glowing, daring to smile, eyes locked with yours.

He was standing in the distance surrounded by a growing crowd of mainly girls. His hair was tousled, his shirt wasn’t tucked in. He looked like he just woke up, bags draining the colour from his face, but he was smiling. He looked happy.

Jaemin.

You had got your wish, but it didn’t feel so good. 

He broke your gaze and pushed himself through the crowd. He started walking, walking towards you. It felt like it did at Haechan’s party, just the two of you amongst the chaos, surrounded by a crowd. As he got closer and closer you begged him to stop. Begged him to turn around, to walk away just as he did last night. But it was too late.

His hand gripped Jeno’s shoulder, but his eyes were on you.

Although you couldn’t face him. Not after what he did.

“Jaemin!?” Jeno gasped, eyes wide but soon jumping up to pull him into a man hug. “Where the hell have you been?”

Haechan soon got up and gave him a full hug, Renjun after that.

“I just took some time off.” He said, eyes still focused on you. 

It turned your stomach to look him in the eye, to hear him speak. It hurt to watch him laugh. His presence sickened you, but you still wanted to wrap your arms around him and fuse your lips with his. You still wanted to kiss the pain away.

Lila even got up to give Jaemin an awkward side hug. Once she sat down, all eyes were on you. Watching. Waiting. 

But Jaemin knew you weren’t going to get up, he didn’t want you to, that you were aware of. So he sat down beside Renjun before you could even think about standing up to hug him. Even from there, his scent, the amber, overwhelmed you. 

You faded in and out of memories, of wants. 

You tried to swallow the growing lump in your throat, the reminder of last night. Butterflies were eating into your stomach. Your heart rate was rising. When his eyes glanced over to you, when they skimmed over your features, your breath would shake, your heart would flutter. 

He was becoming a liability, your liability, and you hated it. You hated every ounce of it, of him. He affected you in ways no other had, he did something to you, he ruined you. Only fools fall for someone like him, only fools ignore the warnings, and god are you one fool.

As he was laughing, smiling, you wondered if he even remembered last night. If he even remembered the words he used too easily. 

‘I warned you.’

The words rung in your ears, stung goosebumps to your skin. They screamed at you. Louder than silence itself. They pierced through you, belittling you. Making you feel small and weak. You did think he cared, a part of you did. You did miss him, a part of you did. A part of you liked him, fell vulnerable to his charm. But another part of you wanted to yell at him, yell at him for making you feel that way; small and stupid. A part of you wanted to make him say sorry, and another part wanted to ignore him. 

But regardless, he stayed on your mind. He affected you. He hurt you. He made you feel special. He bruised you. He made you smile. He did so much to you, too much. He messed with your emotions, played with your heart, but every time you caught his eye you saw hope. You saw yourself in his reflection and you almost looked happy.

But you couldn’t forgive him, you couldn’t let go. Not this time.

‘I was warned and God I wish I listened.’

Knowing you’d have to see him every day, have to hear his voice, was the worst part. If he wasn’t in you could at least focus on your work, ignore what happened. But seeing his face daily, reliving that night every time you met his glance, was torture. 

Because he didn’t care, not one bit.

It was clear he had told no one about it either, for there was no awkwardness. He was grinning, everyone was laughing. It was just you, who felt a surge of uncomfortableness settle around your throat.

Jeno cleared his throat, gathering your attention.

“Hey, y/n,” he started, “can we talk?” 

He gathered everyone’s attention as well, as they all looked on in curiosity. Haechan gave him a discreet wink, but you saw it. And so did Jaemin for that matter. You tried not to look at him, but his frown caught your glance. His eyebrows were furrowed, jaw clenched.

‘Was he annoyed?’

It almost acted as an incentive, an encouragement to stand up after Jeno. You followed him out the door. Once you were in the hall, out of sight, his smile turned serious.

“You okay?” he said, “You seem quite out of it.”

Your response was too quick; “Yeah I’m just tired.”

He lowered his head, staring right at you, eyes soft and understanding. “I know about it.”

“About what?” you snapped.

His eyes fixated on the floor as he spoke, “The whole Jaemin thing.”

“He told you huh?” You felt even more betrayed than you had yesterday.

“Just don’t jump to conclusions okay, he didn’t mean i—”

“Stop right there. I don’t need any more advice Jeno.” Your voice was calm, but inside you was a raging fire, “Your last advice turned out to be wrong, it made a fool out of me.”

“Look ju-“

“I have looked, I have listened, and look at me now.”

His cheeks flushed a shade of pink, his eyes still focused on the floor.

The bell rang. You could tell he had more to say, but you left him, regardless. You spun around the corner back into the cafeteria.  But something got in the way. Someone, got in the way.

You spun right into your worst nightmare.

Your face collided with Jaemin’s chest. Your arms gripped his jacket for stability.

 You fell into his arms.

You stopped breathing. Not even daring to move. You could’ve stayed there, perhaps forever. But that wasn’t an option.

You felt his hands loosen their grip, begin to let go. You could tell he hesitated. His movement brought you back to reality. You pushed yourself from his clutch, from his warmth. The warmth that taunted you, teased your heart. 

Tentatively, you drew your gaze up, taking in all of him as if you were breathing in air. Until your gaze met his. You looked directly into his eyes, so closely, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. They sparkled with fading starlight. They twinkled with hope. The same hope that suffocated you. He looked at you with such intimacy, such vehemence. 

You took a step back, away from the intensity.

Eyes now glued to the floor, you walked right past him, without another word. Your shoulder collided with his as you pushed past. Finally, he was the one left standing alone.

———

[7:23]

Ten came home late, busting in the door as usual.

“I’m home,” he said.

“Really? I’d never guess.” 

“Haw haw, oh, by the way, someone’s outside looking for you.”

“For me?” you asked. 

He nodded his head, gesturing to the door.

You leaped up from the couch and headed for the door. You would’ve thought it was Renjun, but Ten knew Renjun. You unlocked the door cautiously, just in case. 

You opened it to see a pale Jeno standing in the middle of the empty hallway. 

“Y/n..” he began, but you stopped him before he could continue. You weren’t even surprised to see him at this point, many random people had just shown up at your house that you weren’t even fazed.

“Follow me.”

You lead him into your room. The hallway was too cold and too familiar to talk. Your bedroom had more security, more privacy. Ten didn’t even take a double glance as you lead a boy into your room. 

You took a seat on your bed, but he stayed standing, looking at you full on. 

“Okay,” he sighed, “You don’t have to believe me, but I need to tell you.”

You just offered a nod in response.

“Jaemin’s a good guy y/n.” before you could scoff, he continued, “I know you don’t agree but he has his reasons.”

“Like what?”

“I just- I can’t tell you. He has to tell you himself, it’s not my place. Just please, don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Conclusions about what? Tell me Jeno.”

He hesitated for a moment, “…I can’t. I really can’t.”

You looked him in the eye, a chuckle rising, “Then why’d you come?”

“I need to know something, and you have to be honest.”

“What is it?”

“Do you have feelings for Jaemin?” He said it so abruptly you almost choked on air.

“I-I don-“ But that split second of hesitation told him all he needed to know.

Even just by the look on your face he knew. The spark in your eye that lit up at the sound of his name, the softness of your expression. He told you before, ‘you’re face thought before you did.’

“It’s okay y/n. It’s okay to like someone.”

“But it’s not Jeno, it’s not okay to like someone like Jaemin. I shouldn’t. I can’t.”

But he never saw his expression in the mirror, he never saw his tell signs. He never witnessed the way he glanced at the floor or the way his eyes dimmed when you admitted it. 

“What’re you not telling me?” you asked.

All that he offered was silence amidst the tension. 

“Jeno, What is it?…Jeno?” You prodded.

Until he exploded, “I might like you y/n! Okay? Happy?”

Your heart dropped. Stomach turned.

“Oh, Jeno…”

“No, listen. It’s okay. It truly is. You have feelings for Jaemin and that’s great. He deserves someone to like him, to truly care for him. After all, he’s been through, he deserves that. He needs that.”

“But Jeno I-“

“Listen y/n, I know you don’t like me back, I’ve accepted it. I’ve dealt with it. Can we please just move on from this?”

You needed a second to digest everything. So the guy you had liked for ages likes you back, but only after you’ve moved on. That’s when you tasted the true cruelty of fate. That’s when you saw it. He cared about you, it was obvious, from the thought he put into your gifts, to the way he looked at you.

 But you didn’t care about him in the same way. It disappointed your heart, twisted your stomach. Although despite his feelings, he helped you with Jaemin, he encouraged it. You understood how much courage that must’ve taken. Jeno wasn’t lying to you, you knew that now. 

‘Perhaps I should trust him after all.’

The silence invaded once again.

“So you like me huh?” you laughed, attempting a joke after the tension was released.

“Don’t get big-headed on me now okay?” His smile was enough to assure you everything truly was okay. The genuine broad grin that showed his teeth, the speck of naturalness in his eyes. 

“So we’re cool? Friends again?” he asked.

“Definitely.” 

“And please trust me, Jaemin is a good guy. I know it.”

“Okay. Thank you.” you smiled back. 

———

That night you had not one, but two guys on your mind. 

The ‘what-if’s’ with Jeno crept in, making you doubt your feelings. Making you uncertain about your choice. But then the anger that you felt towards Jaemin came in like a cloud that fogged your decisions. No, there was no decision. You had made that a long time ago. 

But you doubted if you could ever honestly forgive Jaemin. For the words he spoke. For the glance he spared. And the girl, you had no idea how to digest that. All the ‘if’s and buts’ just confused you further. So far that the only thing that could save you, free you, was the abyss that was sleep.

———

Thursday [3:14]

Your plan today was to avoid Jaemin in order to think things through, to consider your thoughts. But as you well know, not everything goes to plan.

 - - - 

Final class of the day was Biology, and funnily enough, it was your favourite. 

Thankfully there was no awkwardness between Jeno and you, just pure platonic friendship. You were worried that it would affect things, affect your friendship. Although nothing had changed, it was exactly the same; filled with bad jokes and lots of laughter. You knew it was because he was okay. You knew he was, and that eased your heart and your mind. Jeno had become one of your closest friends, one that you couldn’t bear to lose.

You took your seat at the very back. You had no friends in this class, so you could actually study and learn. No distractions. As you pulled out your books, you heard the class hush. Everyone quiet apart from one distinct voice. You couldn’t help but look up. And of course, as the cruel fate would have it, there he stood.

As you popped your head up, Jaemin looked right at you. The cruel curve of his smile almost bending into a smirk. His eyes sharp.

He was talking with the teacher, who was gesturing towards you. And then he started to walk down the center aisle of the class. All the girls holding their breaths, waiting, hoping. However, you were begging for him to not be your new lab partner.

He stopped beside your desk, the smug look on his face told you otherwise, and he took the seat right beside you. He looked as if nothing had ever happened. You would love to take a look inside his brain and figure him out, hear what he’s thinking. Because while you’re imprisoned by a cage of awkwardness, he’s grinning and smirk like never before.

He pulled his seat a fraction closer to you, but you could hear it. All eyes settled on you, a mix of jealousy and anger plastered on the girls’ faces. You just kept your eyes ahead, staring at the board. 

Until he leaned in closer, his scent wafting through the air. You turned to catch his eye, staring at you with such intent, such severity, it could ignite something inside of you. The ache returned, threatening to pull apart by the thread. You outlined the curve of his lips. And he opened them to utter such quiet words that you could’ve easily missed, so hushed they almost blended in with the silence. So soft, you wondered if he said them at all.

“I didn’t mean it.”

Your heart almost gave out right then and there. Because despite the coffee incident, you forgave him. Despite the day he pulled out his jumper, you forgave him. Despite the bet, you forgave him. Despite everything, you forgave him.

And despite everything, you still fell for him.

_____________________________________

a/n: I hope you liked it!! You’re probably wondering how does Jeno like y/n, but if you notice how he looks at her and all, you’ll see it :) This is the second last chapter, so yes, ‘Sweet Like Coffee’ is coming to an end. And no I’m not crying. Jaemin finally broke the silence, but was it just y/n’s imagination or was it true. Did he mean it? And also what the hell did he write in the book? All will be revealed next chapter. Stay tuned!

____________________________________

See you soon -> Tuesday 19th xx

____________________________________

[coffeeminns]

your bed smells like comfort; oh sehun

pairing: oh sehun×reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 1.3k

Sehun was driving on the busy road back to his apartment with a smile plastered on his face, the flowers you had helped him choose for his girlfriend laying carefully on the passenger seat. He had spent the day with you, his best friend, and was waiting to come home to give his girlfriend the flowers. He pulled the car in the parking lot and made his way towards the door house, humming a song under his breath. He opened the door and looked over at the sofa to greet his loved one, or at least he thought. There it was his girlfriend. Kissing another man. <What are you doing!?> He shouted, tears dwelling up in his eyes. <I trusted you and… and you do this! I can’t believe this is happening!> Without thinking about it Sehun stormed out of the apartment, the screams of his girlfriend echoing in the background as the door slammed shut. Sehun found himself outside his apartment’s building, clueless on where to go and freezing his ass off. His first thought was of you, who kindly helped him find flowers for his girlfriend who you weren’t even friends with. All because you cared about him.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket, hoping to reach you and that you weren’t busy. <Sehun, what’s happening?> You asked, immediately concerned because that was just your nature. <Y/N…I’m sorry to bother you but-> He stopped, not knowing what to say, his words refusing to come out caught in his throat. <Sehun, you’re scaring me! Do you need me to come over?!> <No!> He shouted immediately, he was freezing, at the entrance of his apartment with no intention of going back. <I just… Can I please come over, I can’t explain through the phone.> <Yes, yes of course Sehunie. I’m at my apartment.> <Thank you Y/N seriously…> <Just hurry! I’m worried!> Sehun hurried to his car and started the engine, thoughts swirling furiously inside his head, his grip tightening around the stirring wheel as he thought about his girlfriend. He loved her, she made him happy and he thought he could be himself when they were together but of course, he was wrong. As he drove towards your house he found himself thinking about you again, the only person that was sticking with him through all his years of his life, always making sure he was happy. The more he thought about your memories together the more his mind felt lighter, by the way he arrived to your place he had calmed down and was ready to tell you everything. He ringed the doorbell and the door opened almost immediately revealing a quite dishevelled girl standing in the door frame with a freshly made bubble tea. You. Sehun stared at you and then at the bubble tea in your hand. <You made bubble tea at 10pm?> <Well, you seemed pretty agitated and I guessed some of your favourite drink might make you feel better.> You explained, looking around nervously. You felt suffocated by an hug and suddenly Sehun’s smell was all around you. You hugged him back, smiling. You knew bubble tea would have made everything better. As he looked at you, his grateful gaze locking with yours, you smiled and gestured for him to sit on the sofa. He took a deep breath in and started explaining. You listened to him rambling about his memories with the girl that broke his heart, with a sting of pain in your heart. You were about to cry as you saw him pour his heart out in front of you, sniffling. At some point he started holding your hand, searching for confirmation that he was worth something. That his girlfriend didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t enough. <You underestimate yourself too much Oh Sehun, you are an amazing person. You give the best hugs and you’re so good at making people feel at ease. Everyone feels like they can be themselves with you and that you wouldn’t judge them. Never. You make people smile and forget about their problems, how can you think so low of yourself?> You were so passionate about your speech, looking intensely at your feet that you didn’t notice Sehun’s gaze switching from his hands to you, a surprised look on his face. No one had ever talked about him like that he was truly amazed at your display of emotions. And something clicked in his heart. He interrupted you, with a smile. <Hey, hey Y/N calm down! I’m okay now, thanks to you. You have always been so important to me, you supported me through my ups and downs and your words made me live through my days. I didn’t realize how much you mean to me until today. Really, thank you so much.> His last words were accompanied by another hug, this time Sehun squeezed you tighter, burying his face into your neck and you all of your worries disappear at once, relaxing into the hug, you smiled. You felt Sehun yawning behind your back and grinned. <I know you’re stressed right now but it’s pretty late, you should sleep for a bit and think about what to do tomorrow morning.> Sehun flinched, the thought of his girlfriend burning in the back of his mind. He looked down and nodded.

Your heart swelled in your chest as you looked at his despair, you loved him so much and seeing him like this, lost and hopeless, made you feel like a mere pile of dust.

<Come on Sehunie, I’ll prepare the bed for you just wait here and finish your tea.> You let go of his hand and headed to the bedroom, putting new sheets in the bed and even managing to find Sehun’s favourite plush of yours: a dog that suspiciously resembled Vivi. <Come here, the bed is ready!> You called. <Is that Vivi junior?!> He screamed in excitement. <Yes!> You laughed back, shoving him. <Try and get some sleep, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.> You turned around and headed towards the door. Only to be stopped by a hand grabbing firmly your wrist. <Stay with me, please. I don’t think I can sleep alone right now.> You blushed, looking at him nervously. Sure, you had wondered for years how sleeping cuddled in Sehun’s arms could have been but you had never endured your thoughts so much, the pain being unbearable. But now, you had your deepest secret offered in front of you. And it was too appealing to refuse. <O-okay, I’ll keep you company.> You mumbled.

He smiled and took your hand, heading towards the bed. After a bit you were on the right side of the bed and he was on the left. You felt your cheeks heat up at his proximity and closed your eyes, turning on the opposite side. You felt yourself relax and as you were about to fall asleep a pair of strong arms circled your waist and you felt Sehun snuggle into your neck. You stiffened, not expecting the sudden closeness. <Are you uncomfortable Y/N?> <I-I’m not uncomfortable but Sehun…> You stopped, maybe it wasn’t the right time to tell him how you felt… <I like you. As in, more than a friend. And this all makes me suffer a lot…> <You really like me?> <Yes, Sehun. I’ve watched you be happy with so many girls but it was never my turn.> <Your turn is now.> You turned around, surprised, only to feel Sehun’s soft lips on yours and his gaze in yours. It was the start of something completely new for the both of you, but you didn’t doubt that you would have enjoyed every part of it.

-

hi everyone!! i'm back after forever with a sehun fic for my best friend @uneedsugar 💗 i hope you enjoy, requests are still open ^^

-moiky

[chesireh]

No, no estoy bien

Platonic! Bucky Barnes x Reader / Platonic! Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1, 140

A/N: I just finished re-watching WS, that´s how I ended up here.

…

It drowns you. Silently, almost lovingly, till your lungs constrict and you begin to gag a little more with your sobs. The warm water stabilizes you in some way you don’t really understand. Because you can´t hold into it like you would do with Natasha´s hands, yet it touches you and caresses your skin in soothing motions no one has ever tried to trace in your back. Not even Natasha, who sometimes uses the tips of her fingers to draw circles in your cheekbones while she drenches her battered body underneath the freezing water too, wishing she could more helpful.

But today she isn´t there, at your side, wishing and carving for the impossible. And when you get out of the bathroom -of the safe room-, your smile doesn´t flatten at the view of one of your “teammates” waiting in silence at center of the living room. Sitting uncomfortably in one of the small couches around the coffee table, you watch him shift under your gaze.

“Sam wants to talk to you.” The stoic man mutters, in what seems to be an apologetic tone of voice. He probably listened, listened and waited for you, without smothering you like Steve would do. The Winter Soldier wouldn´t care less about a crying brat that can´t contain herself.

Or maybe he didn´t step inside your safe room because he knew how it felt to be crowded by anxiety, faceless eyes and ghosts of the ones who you used to love.

“I see.” You nod, making sure your eyes say you aren´t going anywhere near Sam. Bucky nods back, however he doesn´t move from his seat and keeps waiting for something. Something you don´t really want to give to him right now. (Or never) “Thanks, Buck. But… I´m fine.”

The blue eyed soldier leaves. Even though he is absolutely sure you´re lying to him.

The next mission, it happens again and you aren´t prepared for his presence, since you had been hoping it was a one-time experience. (Not that you mind seeing someone more pitiful than yourself.)

“Hey…” Your voice is strained, and your lungs still hurt for all the screaming. Bucky gazes at your trembling form in wonder. Maybe biting his tongue to control his voice and keep it flat, as emotionless as he can achieve to choke out.

Droplets of water fall down through your body, while your hands hug the dark towel tightly around yourself. The staring continues for about a minute or two, neither of you say a thing, in an act of stubbornness you are not going to stop. And it continues to be awkward, till he breaks the silence, with his usual brusque tone of voice, glaring unconsciously at the same time his hands clench on the smooth material of his uniform.

“Sam is looking for you.” Yet Sam isn´t there, so you know now why your teammate is in your apartment, sitting as stiff as a rock with that motionless expression he wants you to believe. The soldier offered to pass the message. Because Bucky knows that you scream in the tiles of your shower, and that you don´t want prying eyes to look at you the way they look at him.

“I´m fine Bucky.”

You don´t want him near, so he leaves. He still knows you´re lying.

The following mission makes you feel emptier. So you don´t get out of the shower till it´s morning again. The water isn´t running, and your skin has been dry for more than a couple of hours when you decide to step out.

Bucky is there, watching how you move lazily through the living room and into the kitchen wearing that old gym clothes that you stole from Steve´s room. A thin smile grazes your lips, hardly seeming unhappy.

However Bucky doesn´t seem pleased by your act. You can say he´s tempted to murder you by the way his jaw cringes at your movements, and the manner his fingers tremble too close to your skin when he follows you to stand beside the counter. Yet he doesn´t touch an inch of your body. (It isn´t surprising. He had never dared to be too familiar with anyone but Steve. That wasn´t about to change.)

“Steve wants you to go and talk to Sam.” Now he presents the idea with a different approach, as if the concept of sharing your pain with someone else would look more appealing thanks to Steve´s concern.

“I know that already.”

“Then why don´t you…” He silences himself, thinking that somehow his worry would make him vulnerable in front of you. “How are you, humm, doing?” Bucky waits.

“I´m fine today too,” you nudge him to the door, and Bucky complies.

Once again, Bucky breaks into your flat. Though this day it seems everything is different. During the mission he was glued to your side like some kind of guardian dog, putting his metal arm in front of you at every opportunity he got, and evading every single attempt of chatting with the team about it. Nobody complained, however Steve didn´t seem completely fine by the lack of awareness of anything but you that Bucky managed to accomplish with so much easiness.

“Wasn´t it enough?” You question him with furrowed brows, a small crease appears in your forehead and Bucky stares absentmindedly wondering why are you annoyed by his presence.

“I want you to go to talk with Sam.”

“Then stop smothering me and I will, probably, someday,” you shrug without caring for your manners. Bucky narrows his eyes, piercing yours with shattering blue oceans. “What?”

“Stop crying.”

“I already did.”

“Then, you´re fine?”

“Yeah, I´m fine.” He nods as if he approves, though it´s obvious he doesn´t. Bucky leaves, but only after you press the tips of your fingers on the rough surface of his cheekbones, mirroring Natasha´s actions and repeating like a mantra in soft whispers: “I´m fine, Bucky.”

You´re in a hospital bed, and Bucky is actually glaring at you for crying in front of him with your face plastered in the soft pillows that smell like medicine and almost dead experiences.

“You said you were fine.” He mutters sternly, fingers closed around your right hand. It´s a tight hold, but it stabilizes you, in a way that warm water could never accomplish. “You lied.”

“I´m sorry.” You force your throat to let you talk, only getting an obstructed apologize out of it.

Natasha silently observes, petting the curve of your neck, waiting viciously for Bucky to make a wrong move and get him out of the room. “Are you fine now?”

The redhead rolls her eyes at the clueless man in front of her, yet she keeps her mouth shut like a great friend and expects an honest answer from you.

“No.”

Natasha smiles. Bucky hums, and then… he doesn´t leave.