so good to see all those photos without all the beige surrounding him

Euphoria (fluff)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I was trying to update “Jeffrey’s Hill” but I was listening to “Beautiful” by Baekhyun and “Beautiful” by EXO and then my imagination ran wild … and this came to mind. I’ll be updating “Jeffrey’s Hill” soon though! This is just a cute little one shot because I’m ultimate Suho trash. 

MEMBER/GROUP: Kim Junmyeon/Suho 

GENRE: FLUFF. IT’S SO FLUFFY I’M GONNA DIEEE!! (If you got that reference just know you’re amazing and imagine me handing you pizza. I LOBE YOU!) 

DISCLAIMER: The GIF below is not mine. Credits go to the person who made it! Thank you! 

Your name: submit What is this?


You couldn’t process it. A whole year without him. Without his cute smile, tight hugs, caring whispers and gentle cuddles. A whole year without his silly Dad jokes that never failed you crack you up. A whole year without waking up next to him and giggling at the sleepy smile he always wore. 

A whole year without Junmyeon, and you’d survived. 

At first, the days seemed to roll by tantalizingly slow. You’d stare at the clock, hoping time would take pity on you and fast forward to the moment you’d reunite. Several days, you had to remind yourself he was gone, and that it would be a while before he returned. It was hard being in denial. 

Then you just grew really angry. How could SM do that to you? You knew they wouldn’t approve of your relationship, but you didn’t think they’d go as far as separating you two for a whole year. Why were they so cruel? It was his life, shouldn’t he have a say in the matter? You’d spend several nights typing up angry emails to the managers, only to end up deleting them later on. You couldn’t bring yourself to lash out at them, despite the anger you felt. The last thing you wanted was to go against a company with an intimidating amount of power. 

Once you realised you couldn’t bring Junmyeon back sooner, you felt an indescribable sadness. He wasn’t allowed you to contact you, so you couldn’t even bask in the comfort of his cute, cheesy texts. He was completely cut off; and you were forced to accept it. Some nights you’d struggle to fall asleep, thinking of everything you wanted that you couldn’t have: his back hugs, soft hums, gentle voice singing you to sleep, the feeling of his fingers woven through the gaps between yours and the glimmer in his eyes when you told him you loved him. 

You just missed him. So much. 

You had also tried contacting the other members to see if you could speak to him somehow, but they never answered. SM had gotten to them too. You’d eventually lost count of the days and nights you’d spent in tears, wondering what you’d done wrong. Was it wrong to fall in love? 

Finally, after months of denying it, being angry about it, shedding tears over it, you’d had enough. If Junmyeon could cope, you had to do the same. Your life couldn’t end with this silly year gap. You reached out to friends. You hung out at coffee shops, quiet streets, rain scented parks. You spent more time finishing all the drafts you possibly could, and had even piqued the interest of a publisher. You had then proceeded to work on a novel, and that was what sped up time. 

Days went by and you didn’t notice, too engrossed in perfecting characters, fixing plot holes and correcting spelling errors. To add a bit of humorous irony, your publication date was set a week before he got back. But you didn’t notice, you had to make sure everything was right. Nothing could ruin this. This was your first novel, and it meant a lot to you. 

Nothing could take that feeling of euphoria away. It saved you when you found out Junmyeon’s return would be delayed. It saved you when you found out the company had attempted to set him up with another idol. It saved you when you read the headlines, confirming the new couple. It saved you from getting your hopes up when they called it off, and it saved you when you realised he had changed his number. 

Little did you know, Junmyeon was fighting day and night to return to you. 

“Wow, ‘Breathe’, a novel by Y/N, has sold over a million copies, and is currently a dominating best seller! The story revolves around sixteen year old Brea Farren, who sees the ghost of her deceased best friend, and has to live with the imaginary phantom’s torment until she finally learns to let go. The book has received a huge amount of love and support from the teenage demographic, who claim to have easily related to the character’s feeling of being lost and confused. It is now famous in schools all over the world, and is changing many lives and helping many deal with grief.” 

The interviewer, Pauline White, grinned at the camera. “We have the mastermind behind the book here today, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Y/N!” 

The audience cheered as you entered, taking a seat opposite Pauline. “Good morning!” She grinned. “How are you feeling today, Y/N?” 

“Great!” You smiled at the cameras, genuinely feeling your heart lift. “I’m still in shock over the recent news, it’s unbelievable!”

Pauline laughed. “How so? Your writing style is beautiful, it made me cry! I think over the course of their lives, everyone goes through some kind of loss. What was the inspiration behind the book? Did you lose someone the way Brea did?” 

“No, I think my character’s suffering was an exaggeration of mine, really,” you responded. “I did lose someone, but not to death.” 

“Ooh, are you perhaps referring to Kim Junmyeon?” 

You simply grinned in response. “I didn’t even realise I was using the story as a closure to my suffering, it was just a sudden realisation once I started reading all the comments. People were telling me they’d grown to accept losses that weren’t close to death, and that despite everything I’d put my character through, her perseverance and strength inspired them.” 

“Is Brea Farren another version of you?” 

You laughed and shook your head. “No! Never, I could never survive what Brea did. She’s a strong one, for sure.” 

“Towards the end of the book, Brea reunites with a friendlier version of her best friend. Is this an indication of your reunion with your special someone?” Pauline winked at you, and you giggled. “No, there hasn’t been a reunion in my life yet, the ending was more plot beneficial.” 

“Yet? There’s no reunion yet?” 

“Wow, that’s all you could focus on?” 

“You two were the cutest couple ever! I can’t help the excitement, Y/N! A writer and a singer, it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, Pauline.” You gave her a warm smile. “That’s really sweet of you.” 

Unbeknownst to you, Junmyeon sat in his room, watching you intently. He’d just gotten back, and he had been advised to get some rest, but the second he’d heard you’d be on T.V, all thoughts of sleep were out the window. He hadn’t seen you in a year. 

When he saw you walk out, his heart leaped. You looked stunning, your hair was longer and it was tied back. You were dressed casually, but you pulled it off so well. You wore a cute beige jumper over a black, collared shirt, paired with ripped, white jeans. He smiled at the sight of your favourite Converse, knowing you’d opt for those. 

Once he heard you go on and on about your book and the writing process, it felt like falling in love all over again. He couldn’t watch you smile and laugh and blush without grinning like a madman. He couldn’t hear you giggle without laughing at how adorable you were. He’d missed you, so damn much. Everything about you. Everything he didn’t have while he was away. 

Making up his mind, Junmyeon shut the T.V and grabbed his coat, snatching his car keys as he exited the dorms, being extremely cautious so as to avoid being caught. Once he was safe in his car, he drove to your place. When it came to you, he couldn’t wait. 



Standing in front of your apartment had never been this awkward. Junmyeon stared at your keypad, wondering if you’d changed your password. It had previously been the date of your anniversary, but he knew it would have been painful to have kept that. 

Seeing no other starting point, he punched in the numbers, smile growing heavy once the buzzer sounded, signalling a wrong input. He thought it over. What meant a lot to you? 

It couldn’t be…

He punched in the numbers and winced when the buzzer sounded again. It wasn’t your birthday either. What could you have possibly changed it to? Junmyeon took a moment to think it over, going through all the possible dates that could hold a certain amount of significance to you. 

Finally, he landed on the date your book had been published and quickly punched in the numbers, wanting to avoid being seen. When the door unlocked, he grinned and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. 

He shivered, realising you hadn’t turned on the heat. As if he’d never left, Junmyeon made his way to the living room, spotting the heat controls immediately. He set it to the right temperature and collapsed onto your sofa, sighing as the plush material sunk with his weight, yet forming a perfect mould to his body. Nothing had changed, apart from furniture and the paint. You still had photos of your parents around the house, next to photos of you with him. 

This put him at peace, knowing you hadn’t given up. With all the crap his company had put you through, Junmyeon knew he was lucky to have fallen in love with someone so resilient. Now that he was back, and neither of you had moved on, he knew his company would have to accept it. They’d been certain one of you would give up and move on, giving them the victory. 

As he fought to stay awake, he smiled at the thought of being victorious, finally standing on top of his company, a little rebellion against everything they had said and done to him. 

Sleep came a lot easier when he was surrounded by you. 

He woke up to soft humming. 

Junmyeon rose, turning to face your smiling face as he yawned. His head had been on your lap. The two of you stared, neither making a move, just drinking in the sight of each other. You noticed the change of hair colour. He noticed your change of clothing style. 

You noticed how tired he looked. He noticed the happy gleam in your eyes, feeling his heart thud louder as he took in the soft smile you wore, breathing in your familiar scent. You had never been one for strong perfume. You preferred the mild scented ones, and he loved it on you. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

He didn’t respond. Instead, he stood up and gestured for you to do the same. Confused, you stood up and watched as his eyes scanned your body and then met yours again. “I just wanted to make sure you’re in good shape.” Your heart fluttered, and your smile widened. After a whole year of being away, he was still concerned about your well-being. You weren’t sure how you were keeping your composure. 

“You shouldn’t be telling me that, jagi,” you stepped closer to him, cupping his cheek. God, you’d missed this so much. Holding him like this. Watching as his eyes fluttered shut at your touch, hearing his breathing relax as he blew out gently. “Look at you. You look exhausted. You need more sleep.” 

His eyes were open again, and he gave you that look. The one you’d defined as a silent “I love you”, the one he often gave you before he kissed you. “I’ll sleep later, I just want to hold you for now.” 

Slowly, he leaned forward, lips inches away from yours. You shut your eyes, feeling the teasing, ticklish touch of his eyelashes as he placed his mouth atop yours. 

Instantly, you melted. 

Memories flooded your mind as Junmyeon kissed you gently, hand cupping your cheek while his free arm wound around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You were sure he could hear your heart beating frantically, but you didn’t care. You were completely lost in him, in the way he held you, in the way he kissed you, and the warmth you had been deprived of for a whole year. 

Jagi,” you frowned. “Please wear a scarf, you’re going to catch a cold if you walk out like that.” 

Junmyeon spun around and gave you a cute smile, obediently wrapping a scarf around his neck and bringing it up to his nose. You smiled in content, pushing yourself up on your toes as you kissed the tip of his nose, giggling when he quickly dodged more kisses and nuzzled your neck. 

That tickles!” 

“I know it does, it’s why I did it.” 

“Okay, that’s it. Whoever wins this round makes dinner tonight.” As if he never had plans, Junmyeon unwrapped the scarf and let it fall to the floor as he counted down, watching in amusement as you made no move to run until he finished. 

“Wrong move, Y/N.” 

You squealed as he lifted you bridal style to the sofas, placing you down gently. And yet, his fingers were merciless as he attacked your sides, watching as you squirmed and laughed hysterically, desperately trying to gain the upper hand. 

“Stop! Stop!” 

He didn’t oblige, forcing you to roll off the couch and fall to the floor. Not wasting anytime, you brought yourself to your feet and tackled Junmyeon to the sofa with all the strength you could muster, laughing at his horrified expression. You didn’t tickle him. Instead, you leaned down, slowly bringing your lips closer to his, softly whispering, “I win.” before you kissed him. 

You remembered how that felt. It felt like falling, but there was no rush. The wind seemed to carry you gently, and the euphoria was intense. It was the exact same feeling, watching Junmyeon’s flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips as he stepped back and whispered, “I missed you. So, so much.” 

Normally, you weren’t so brave, but his year long absence had boosted your courage. 

“Really?” You shot him a cheeky smile. “Prove it.” 

He laughed. “Gladly.” 

And then his lips were on yours again. 

Title: Good Company
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Some language in there somewhere.
Requested by awsomenewtimagines:  A bucky imagine where Bucky is ready to start his life over agin in this new world. When he gets to his new apartment he meets his neighbors, the reader. The reader lives just across the hall from him and loves antics and old stuff. She doesn’t know who he is, and she wouldn’t care anyway. And she kindly offers to help him settle in. And when they small talk the reader ask him where he lived before there and he tell her Brooklyn, and she’s also from Brooklyn. And when he ask her where, it’s the same place he used to live, of course he don’t tell her that. And i would love if somewere in the story they have a passionate kiss maybe?

You were sitting in your apartment, relaxing to your favorite record when you heard it. A loud crash echoed in the hallway, causing you to leap out of your vintage, floral print armchair and rush to the door. When you opened it, you nearly tripped over a cardboard box, but luckily, you were quick to react.
What you assumed were the contents of the deadly box were strewn all around the hallway. Papers, a few picture frames with black and white photos behind the -thankfully not shattered- glass, and a few old looking t-shirts.
When you looked up from the wreckage, your eyes met with those of an extremely handsome man, his gray t-shirt slightly sticking deliciously to his toned torso, his medium length chocolate hair falling out of a messy bun. You didn’t have a lot of time to appreciate his rugged-good-looks before you noticed his arm.
“Everything okay out here?” you asked, leaning against your doorway and trying not to stare at the shimmering metal of his arm.
The man let out a sigh and moved a few strands of hair out of his face, then nodded and half smiled at you.
“Sorry if I bothered you,” he apologized, stretching out his not metal hand to you, “I’m Bucky. I’m trying to move in.”
“Glad to know you’re not robbing anyone,” you joked, shaking his hand and taking note of just how large his hands were, and how surprisingly soft, “I’m Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you ma’am,” he said, that charming smile making you weak in the knees. He was good.
“You too,” you replied, “Um, if you’d like, I could help you get settled in?”
“That would be great if you could,” he said, beginning to pick up his belongings off of the beige floor. You knelt down and helped, folding one of his shirts and noting the year on what looked like a gym shirt.
“This your grandpa’s or something?” you said, holding up the shirt for him to see.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, taking it from you and putting it back into the box, “Something like that. I like to keep old stuff from back in the day. Vintage stuff, y’know.”
“What a coincidence,” you grinned, standing up straight and gesturing to your still open apartment, “Me too. Speaking of which, hang on and I’ll go turn off my record player and help you move in.”
A few hours passed, and you had helped the metal armed stranger move all of his things into his apartment. The two of you were resting on his couch, surrounded by towers of boxes and vintage furniture.
“So, I gotta ask about the arm,” you said, running a hand through your hair, “It’s the coolest prosthetic I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah,” he said softly, running his fingers over the metal and staring at it somberly, “It’s not really an important story.”
You nodded, not trying to pry. You glanced around once more, taking in the apartment. It was old, similar to yours, but no one had lived in it in decades. At least, that’s what the landlord said.
“I love these old fashioned apartments,” you said, “They remind me of where I grew up.”
“Where did you grow up?” Bucky asked, his eyes observing your every move. You didn’t notice.
“Brooklyn,” you said, finally meeting his gaze and smiling, “I miss it there. We lived with my grandparents, then when they died it was just me and my parents. They’re still in that place, they love their garden too much to leave.”
“They have a garden?” he asked, “In an apartment complex?”
“Well, all of the apartments surround a big field of grass. They let their tenants grow plants if they want, since it’s mostly older people. They like that kind of stuff, y’know? Easy stuff,” you explained, remembering the field from your childhood.
“What street was this place on?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“Myrtle Avenue. Why?” you asked.
“A buddy of mine used to live over there,” he lied, hoping you wouldn’t notice.
“I wonder if we ever met,” you said, smiling gently and running your fingers over the design of the couch. “Hey, where did you get this thing? I’d love one like it.”
Bucky had a hard time keeping his identity hidden from you. He wanted to keep you out of the super hero world, but more so out of the super villain world. It would kill him if you ever found out who he truly was.
Over the next few weeks, you and Bucky only got closer as time went on. You would have dinner together, swap records and old books, even discuss your favorite movies from the 30′s. He could never tell you that Gone With The Wind was better in theaters, but he wished he could.
On one afternoon, you decided to return his copy of Water for Elephants. Letting yourself into his apartment was a completely normal thing to you, so you did. When you walked into the apartment, though, you were too focused on the back of the book to realize that Bucky was on his way out. Your face met his chest, which made you yelp in surprise.
“I didn’t know you were here!” you gasped, your heart racing in your ears.
“It’s alright, I was just leaving,” he said, “I take it you finished the book?”
“Yeah, I did, it was great,” you smiled, suddenly aware of your close proximity. You hadn’t moved away more than a few inches when you initially collided with the tall man. The thought of being close enough to him that you could lean against his chest without moving much set your cheeks ablaze.
He seemed to have taken note of just how close you were as well, because he could physically feel his heart picking up in pace. It was a feeling he wasn’t familiar with, that he hadn’t felt in literally decades.
“I guess I’ll just go put this back,” you said softly, moving past him and accidentally brushing his metal hand with your free one. It was cold and smooth, sending goosebumps up your arm. Your face grew hotter as you placed the book back into his knee-height bookshelf.
When you turned to leave, he was standing there, his eyes glued to you. It was like he was seeing you for the first time. His eyes roamed over you, your face, the mess that was your hair, and the gentleness about you. He felt safe with you, something he wasn’t used to.
There was an electricity between you, running through the intense eye contact neither of you wanted to break. You could feel your stomach flip as a strand of hair fell into his face. He was more gorgeous than you remembered. It made your blush radiate with even more heat than before.
Seeing your cheeks glowing a bright pink color made him aware of his own blush, and he dropped his eyes, muttered an apology.
With the eye contact finally broken, you had regained your senses, and you knew exactly what you were going to do next. You couldn’t help yourself from crossing the room, pushing the hair out of his face and placing the deepest kiss to his perfect lips.
Bucky didn’t miss a beat, one hand flying up to your waist and the other tangling in yours. He moved his lips in perfect rhythm with yours, a sigh building in his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was what heaven felt like.
You were the one to break the kiss, your lungs burning for air. You took a deep breath and looked up at him, hoping he was as breathless as you were. He was.
“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” you said, your chest rising and falling with his.
“Hey, I kissed back, didn’t I?” he said, smiling slightly and pecking your forehead as he embraced you. This was where you wanted to spend the rest of your life, safe in his arms.