I. AM SEEING NCT DREAM WITH @kiachiako

WE ARE. SEEINGDREAMIES ‼️‼️ THEYRE COMING TO US 🗣️🗣️ 🫣🫵 CITAYYY GIRLS 🆙 ⬆️

pairing ❥ haechan x reader genre ❥ angst, fluff, suggestive, university! au, friends with benefits, fuckboy! haechan word count ❥ 10.1k note ❥ happy hyuck day! this is two hours late but i really did want to put something out playlist ❥ pools - niki | i like u - niki | wicked games - kiana lede | labyrinth - taylor swift | slow down - chase atlantic

You’re not sure why you find yourself in this exact position every week, despite your obvious distaste towards the sordid environment.

It’s way too crowded for the cramped space that makes up the basement, the strobe lights making the darkness seem even more claustrophobic. You’d typically enjoy the feeling of a warm body against yours, but not so much when it’s multiple sweaty figures pressing against each other uncomfortably in an attempt to follow the music.

Your drink is lukewarm when you take a sip, the sugary-sweet soothing the burn of the alcohol as you make a fruitless attempt to move to a corner where someone’s less likely to collide into you.

“Don’t usually see you here.” Renjun is smiling when he leans next to you, handing over a new drink that is, thankfully, ice cold.

“We both know you’ve seen me passed out in your car more times than we can count,” you mutter dryly, and he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that. Just that I expected to find you on the dance floor.”

He’s right. You’re often more enthusiastic about socialising than anything else, because it seems to be the only worthwhile thing to be gained out of wasting your weekends at a frat. Conversations are a lot easier to start when you’re tipsy, and introductions less awkward through the help of mutual friends.

You shrug pathetically. “Not really feeling it today.”

“Well, we’re heading out to get pizza soon, if you want to join. This party is kind of shit, anyways.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Jeno, Jaemin and a few of the people from the reporting club. Not too many though, because we’ve only got two cars.”

You smirk slightly. “Jaemin’s leaving his own party?”

“Well, it seems someone leaked the details to a few freshmen, so it was already ruined from the start,” Renjun explains, fingers drumming against the wallpaper.

“Hey, you guys ready to go-” Jeno pauses at the sight of you, car keys dangling precariously from his fingers. “Are you coming along?”

You let out a sound of annoyance. “Don’t sound so unhappy about it.”

He grins apologetically then, eyes curving into two crescent moons. “Sorry. I’m just tired.”

“Physiology is kicking his ass right now,” Renjun explains, and you blink innocently.

“Aren’t all your examinations just doing pushups in the gym?” You barely bite back your laugh when you say it.

The question earns a pinch on your arm from Jeno, and Renjun steps in between the both of you before you can retaliate, tugging each of you towards the door.

“Oh, by the way, you’re in Jaemin’s car.” Renjun points you towards the boy’s white Subaru, following Jeno in the opposite direction. “I would offer for you to take ours, but it’s already full.”

“It’s okay. Jaemin has better music anyways,” you reply, crossing the parking lot and pulling the door open before Jeno can register your statement.

The windows are down, which means Jaemin sees you in his rearview mirror, a blinding smile lighting up his face when he waves at you. “Y/N!” He greets, energetic despite the late hour. Next to him, Chaewon is riding shotgun, short hair tucked behind her ears.

“Let us know if you don’t have enough space in the back,” she tells you, fiddling with the stereo as you get in.

It’s only then that you realise there’s someone else in the backseat with you, and it’s not a face you recognise.

He’s staring unabashedly at you, and you take in his appearance, from the black ripped jeans to the combat boots, to the leather jacket stretching across your shoulders. And to top it off, his hair is combed up to reveal his forehead, honey-toned skin made even more obvious in the dim light.

If you weren’t half-drunk, you might be able to register that he’s likely one of the most attractive men you’ve seen in your life. Instead, what escapes your mouth is:

“Who the hell is this guy?”

dead ends — l.dh

description. donghyuck is a piece of your past, a ghost in your present, and a dot of uncertainty in the future twists of fate.

pairings. lee donghyuck x gender-neutral reader

genre. angst, slight fluff & comedy, exes to ???, café!au, time-travel!au

warnings. none

word count. 6.9k

The steps leading down the basement café have long been worn out by age and season, creaking with the weight of every step, but its logs hold like they always have. The heavy oak door swings open only halfway because it inevitably jams on the uneven flooring, marking  a concave where it scrapes the ground. With a bell more ominous sounding than welcoming, Funiculi Funicula was a peculiar café and it hasn’t changed much since the last time you were here.

You braced yourself against the door, pushing it open with all the strength you could muster. It budges, barely, just enough to ring the bell hanging overhead. Clang-dong. The doorbell is distinct from its sweet high-pitched counterparts, infamous for scaring off first timers than inticing them to come in. The door scratches against the ground when you try to shove it again and it thunks—hitting the edge of the indent on the floor.

From behind, you hear something clatter to the ground then the clopping of shoefall. The door levitates off the ground, held up before its swung fully inward. “So sorry about that. We haven’t had the chance to fix it yet.” The waiter bows once, then twice, before you reach up to stop him.

“Relax, Jaemin. It’s just me.”

Keep reading

this is my fourth time coming back to this piece, i believe. i’m listening to home by edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros and hozier’s work song, and i think that my heart hasn’t felt this full in a while. and now i’m crying — albeit your writing has always made me feel so many emotions at once — because of so many things, and i just want this little nook of the internet that houses dead ends to live permanently at the top of home page.

i just stumbled upon a quote a few minutes ago that also added to my quite distraught emotional state, so i’ll leave that here for someone to safekeep.

…

“we cry at goodbyes. because we know that, deep down, the person who comes back isn’t the same person who left us.”