joongsfavedenim

[joongsfavedenim]

it’s hard to breathe, you’re everything

pairing: xiao dejun x liu yangyang

genre: slice of life, mutual pining

word count: 7.7k

//

It was gone. It was so fucking gone.

That was the conclusion Xiaojun had arrived at this particular morning. After turning his room completely upside down and setting it back right again, he was certain that the jacket was definitely not there.

If he wasn’t so distraught that the jacket was actually fucking gone , he would have been amazed that he had been able to search so thoroughly while nursing a killer hangover headache . The pounding worsened as Xiaojun bent at the waist to check underneath his bed one last time. He huffed out a whine as he straightened up, coming away with dust bunnies clinging to the sleeves of his sweater. Definitely gone.

Plopping down on the edge of his bed, he attempted mentally retracing his steps. Each time he played the night over, his memory only got him as far as The Patio before his brain would short circuit. But the hazy images Xiaojun’s mind retained from that part of the evening showed him that the jacket had still been with him up to that point. Now to puzzle-piece the remainder of the evening together.

read the full piece here //

[joongsfavedenim]

bubu

[joongsfavedenim]

it’s like part of me must want this // johnny

pairing: johnny x reader

genre: light angst, suggestive

words: 1k

author notes: i don’t write reader fics very often anymore, but this one has always stuck with me for some reason. also i’ve never posted my writing on tumblr and i’m kind of nervous??? anyway feel free to let me know what you think or come find me on instagram ! & song inspo: slow grenade - ellie goulding

Johnny (6:37pm): hey, Taeil told me you were back in town

ynnie (7:13pm): fck I’m never talking to that mf again

ynnie (7:14pm): bitch can’t keep a secret

Johnny (7:22pm): i take it you don’t want to see me?

ynnie (7:28pm): unfortunately it’s quite the opposite

Johnny (7:31pm): what nights are you free

ynnie (7:34pm): tonight?

Johnny (7:35pm): i’ll see you at mine then

//

“Wow a doormat,” you marveled. “Who lives here— the mayor?”

“Are you trying to clown me for buying a doormat?” Johnny asked, shutting the front door behind you. The scent of his home came to you gradually, as if your body was adjusting to being here again. It was the kind of smell that you wouldn’t be able to describe to another person if they asked— it was just...Johnny’s house. And, as you insisted that you were merely just proud of him for the doormat, the scent of your past continued to envelop you.

“Do you mind if we don’t do the small talk thing?” He reached up to brush a bit of dust off the top of a nearby bookshelf as you stood together in his living room. “We already know everything that there is to say.” Johnny’s voice was quiet, bordering on sheepish. But you both knew he was right. By coming here, you had again acknowledged the sickening need you had for one another.

You took in a shuddering breath, watching him. The energy that had been building in your chest on your drive over here still hovered underneath the surface. Your expectations were buzzing and your senses alight. “Don’t you want to beg me? The way you did last time?” you started, taking a small step toward him. “While I tell you over and over again that we’re bad for each other and that we shouldn’t do this?”

He said nothing aloud but the pleading in his eyes mirrored yours. You let him move toward you another step. The brief moments that your eyes peeled away from his gaze were used to drink in the details of him: the curved corner of his mouth, the soft pieces of dark hair that had fallen away from his face.

“Do you want me to beg?” He was close enough now that you felt the air of his words on your face.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “You know you don’t have to.” You reached for Johnny’s wrist, making first contact. “We both knew this was inevitable.” The last few words were muffled by his sweater and, thank god (or whoever), you were finally lost in his arms.

Getting to the bedroom had always been just as fun for the pair of you as actually being inside it together. “Wait,” he breathed, tickling the hairs on your neck as he pushed you into the wall of the stairwell. He lengthened his arm out, separating your bodies as ragged breaths fell from both of you. His palm was in the center of your chest, gently holding you in place. Your eyes involuntarily closed a few times - your nerves so full of disquiet that it almost made you drowsy.

“I can barely look at you,” you admitted, choking slightly on the words. The magnetism between you continued to tug at you in the pit of your belly.

Johnny whispered something and you cut your eyes up, catching the outline of his lips in the low light. The blood rushing in your ears finally cleared as you caught the last of his sentence: ...basically, I’m addicted to the way you look at me. A warm rush of adrenaline crashed through you, but you stood where he held you — mutually captivated even as the subtle poison of this reunion had started to seep into your bodies.

After you had sex, you were the first one to insist that this time was the last time. A few hours later, when your bodies were tangled in the sheets for a second time, you had both opened your mouths in the same moment to agree that it was really over for good. But even now, as you watched Johnny’s chest rise and fall under the blue glow of the television, your body ached for him from across the mattress.

The dependency you had bred was so ingrained in you that it felt just as natural as breathing at times, yet it felt like a new discovery each time you indulged in each other. Which is why, as his finger innocently grazed your prickly thigh, you decided that it was worth it.

The high of being with him was worth every tear you would shed on your way back home. Worth every sob stretched out across the highways that increased the distance between you with every passing moment. Worth every heartbroken text you would receive from him over the next few weeks until you lost touch again for a while.

Around four in the morning, Johnny rolled onto his side and, as he had done countless times, drew you into his arms. He placed his chin on the top of your head, chuckling softly. “Keeping your lips a safe distance away,” he explained.

You joined him in soft laughter. “There is no safe distance for you and I,” you spoke quietly.

You felt him still, his chest going rigid against your back, perhaps from the weight of your words. And it may have been a stifled sob that you heard next, or he could have just been clearing his throat, but either way, that was the end of your conversation. And the last sound you would hear from him for some time.

When you gathered your things in the morning, he had already gone. He left a somewhat warm cup of coffee for you in the microwave as well as a note telling you how to lock up, despite you having done it regularly in the past. The following days you spent in your hometown were numb, and the only thing you could feel was Johnny’s absence.

About a week later, after you had returned home, the next step of the cycle began.

Johnny (12:21am): missing you sicks

ynnie (12:40am): you mean sucks?

Johnny (12:46am): must be the beers

Johnny (12:46am): yes I meant sicks

Johnny (12:47am): s u c k s

ynnie (12:49am): youre cute. and it does suck.

Johnny (12:54am): im sorry

ynnie (12:58am): no, please don’t be. you’re everything.

ynnie (12:59am): we’ll find our way back.

ynnie (12:59am): we always do ♡

//

[joongsfavedenim]

taeil in leather

[joongsfavedenim]

𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙖𝙮 !

for dy’s bday, have some lines abt him in one of the au’s i’m working on.

[joongsfavedenim]

happy doie day ✨

doyoung in LA 🌸

[joongsfavedenim]

- nct yuta pack ⿻˙𓈒

like if you save, thanks

[joongsfavedenim]

[joongsfavedenim]