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animeomegas · 3 years

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Omega!Bakugou headcanons

Anon: Pssssss imma need some more omega Bakugou like now no it make him jealous too because why not

AND

Anon: hi! could you do some omega!bakugou x male alpha!reader? nsfw and sfw pls <3

nesting too pls!! idk why but I love the idea of nesting sjdjsnd, pregnant bakugou fluff would be lovely too <3

AND

Anon: Hi I was wonder if you could do omega Bakugou sfw and nsfw please 🥺

(Hey, everyone!! Bakugou is very popular in my inbox! Okay, let’s write some omega!Bakugou headcanons <3 I have another request for pregnant!Bakugou, so I’ll add that part of the middle request to another post 😊 Also, I only write for a gender neutral reader. I hope you all enjoy~)

Warnings: N-sfw under a cut, suggestive behaviour multiple times not under the cut.

Nesting:

Bakugou is not an omega who is big on nesting. He does nest and he’s very proud of his nest, but he doesn’t feel the urge to nest super often.

He doesn’t keep a permanent, all year-round nest, he’s kind of a clean freak so having to constantly clean all the blankets in his nest would drive his nuts.

He does nest during his heat and late term pregnancy, and also after periods of extreme stress, but not often outside of these times.

But if he knows his alpha likes his nests, he might build them for his alpha when they’re stressed, although he’ll claim he just felt like making it and it shouldn’t go to waste.

It’s not a very convincing lie.

His nest is not in a very popular style, mainly because Bakugou overheats so easily.

It’s a simple double mattress on a very low frame, with a couple of pillows and sheet like blankets that he normally uses as a base rather than a covering.

He has a black and red colour scheme that he thinks is the coolest thing ever, and he definitely has an All Might pillow hidden somewhere at the back that he threatens his alpha to keep a secret, it’s very cute.

He likes his nest to be in an easily defendable position, whether that be inside a large cupboard or wardrobe, or a small room with one door and a small window.

Bakugou also keeps a mini fridge by his nest, as a lot of omegas do, to store water and food, but what he has that a lot of omegas don’t, is a mini freezer too.

He keeps ice packs and ice lollies in there to help when he’s in heat because his temperature tends to get way too high.

Bakugou doesn’t like being vulnerable, so his nest is a sensitive topic for him.

It takes him quite a while to let his alpha into his nest, but he’s quicker to let them chill outside of it, holding his hand and keeping him company. He would probably let them outside his nest after courting for a year and knowing them for at least two years. When he lets them inside depends on a lot of factors, including how well they deal with him from the outside of his nest. It could be anywhere from three months to another year.

Pups:

Bakugou has always wanted some pups, but in a removed and distant kind of way. After all, becoming the No. 1 hero was far more important than any of that ‘family’ nonsense.

He only really considers pups when he’s in a very committed relationship and at a comfortable place in his career. He’s not prepared to take time off at a vulnerable career moment, after all.

Bakugou wants two children, because, while he would never admit it, he always wished he had a sibling when he was a kid, so he wants to give that to his children.

But he’s very conflicted about it.

Firstly, two pregnancy leaves would be a huge blow to his career. Prime hero years and prime ‘having children years’ are the same years, so in a way, he has to decide how to balance these two priorities. He isn’t sure he wants to risk his career with that much leave so close together (heroes can’t be in the field while pregnant at all, so it would be a huge sacrifice.)

Secondly, he’s nervous about how useless he would likely feel while pregnant. He’s a workaholic and being confined to his house and losing control over his quirk would drive him nuts.

So, he doesn’t really know what to do. He doesn’t share any of his concerns with his alpha, but he does take their wishes into account too. If his alpha really wants two children, Bakugou does keep that in mind. But he’s not a push over. If he decides that two maternity leaves are too many, then it’s too many. It’s his body and he won’t let anyone tell him otherwise.

So, with all this in mind, Bakugou is fucking thrilled when he finds out he’s having twins.

Two pups for the price of one pregnancy leave?? Sign him the hell up!

Bakugou has twin boys, both alphas, and Bakugou just cannot believe his luck that all his problems just fixed themselves.

“But I don’t want to go!” came a defiant voice from the back seat of the car. Both you and Bakugou sighed, not keen on restarting the disagreement that had plagued the household for the entire morning. It had taken twice as long as normal this morning to get the twins dressed and in the car because of this very argument.

You could see Bakugou about to open his mouth to tell him that they had to, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Why don’t you want to go, sweetheart?” you cooed at your oldest son.

“I don’t want you and daddy to leave…” whimpered your youngest son, answering in his brother’s stead.

Bakugou winced and reached a hand into the back and squeezed each of his son’s hands in turn.

“I know.” He said simply. You could feel his guilt, even though you both knew it was the best for all of you that the twins get used to nursery so that both you and Bakugou could go back to focusing on your careers. They would be fine, you tried to convince yourself. Millions of kids do this every year and it works out fine.

The nursery came into view, and you refocused your attention onto finding a parking space in the little car park on the side of the building. You could hear your sons shifting anxiously in the back and it pulled at your heart strings. You pulled into an empty space and turned off the engine. You and Bakugou shared a single look before moving to get your children out of the car with practiced ease.

“No,” your eldest son shouted. “I’m not going to go. I’m staying here!”

You had tried to take him out of the car seat, but he had refused to cooperate. You didn’t want to pull him out in case you hurt him. Bakugou came to stand behind you, your youngest son clutching his neck desperately.

“Let me talk to him,” he spoke softly, handing the younger twin over into your arms.

“Hey,” Bakugou said softly, leaning down to peer inside the car where his eldest son stubbornly sat with his arms crossed. “It’s okay to be scared to go to nursery, you know.”

Your oldest son visibly flinched and avoided looking at Bakugou in the eyes.

“I’m not scared, daddy. I just don’t want to.”

“Uh huh,” Bakugou said, eyebrow raised.

“I’m not!” Your son exploded. When he realised that he’d just shouted at his father, the colour drained from his face and his bottom lip started to quiver. Bakugou wordlessly held out his arms and his eldest son accepted the embrace just in time to burst into heavy tears on Bakugou’s shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Bakugou hushed. “I’m not angry at you.”

In your arms, your youngest son was watching his brother cry and letting out little whimpers into your neck. You rubbed his back soothingly and whispered that everything was going to okay.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realised another parent was staring judgementally at your family. Bakugou clearly also noticed because he bared his teeth as a warning and the parent quickly moved on. You scoffed at the idiot who thought it was a good idea to antagonise an omega who was looking after a distraught pup, let alone when said omega was a top ten hero.

“W-What if they don’t l-like me?” your eldest whimpered out.

“Here,” Bakugou wiped some of the tears away with his thumb. “How about this, you tell me if anyone is mean to you and I’ll sort it out, how does that sound?”

“But…” your son hesitated. “But what will you do?”

Bakugou grinned.

“I’ll make their parents regret doing such a shitty job at parenting.”

You gasped, halfway between scandalised and amused.

“Katsuki!” you reprimanded and smacked his lightly on the shoulder.

It did seem to cheer up your sons, though, who were now giggling at your antics.

“Daddy said a bad word,” your youngest twin giggled to you.

“He did,” you pressed your lips together. “And it was very naughty of him.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and instead placed the pup in his arms on the floor, taking him by the hand. You did the same and slowly, you both made your way toward the school gate. The mood dropped, but neither of your children tried to resist.

You could see a teacher standing at the gate to escort the new students and you made your way over.

“Remember,” Bakugou said before you reached the gate, stopping you all for a moment. “We’ll be back in this many hours,” he held up three fingers. “Can you guys tell me how many this is?”

“One… two… three…” they both said together.

“That’s right! See? You guys are going to be the smartest ones in there,” Bakugou boasted, ruffling their hair.

“Careful,” you teased. “They’ll turn into you.”

“Are you saying I’m always the smartest person in the room?” Bakugou grinned back.

“No, I’m saying you always think you’re the smartest person in the room.”

“Oi!” he growled, knocking his shoulder with yours. The pups giggled again, seeming to be in higher spirits. You escorted them to the gate at the front of the playground and let the teacher introduce herself.

And with one final goodbye, your pups were off into the nursery and out of sight.

You and Bakugou walked to the car in silence, digesting what had happened and processing that your little ones were now old enough for nursery. You both slipped back into the car and began the drive home.

It was weird to think that your children were neither with you, nor at home waiting for you, but that kind of existential deep dive could wait until later.

Bakugou’s hand settled just a little bit too high on your thigh. For the moment, it was time to appreciate the novelty of an empty house.

Jealously:

I don’t think anyone would be very surprised to find out that Bakugou can get quite jealous on occasion.

In the early days of your relationship, he’s very nervous that his alpha is going to find a ‘better’ omega, an omega who is more traditional, and leave him for them. It takes a lot of bravery for him to leave himself vulnerable to being abandoned, and occasionally the insecurities seep through.

He hates the whiny, simpering omegas that plaster themselves onto the nearest alpha, and it makes him furious to see anyone doing that to you.

He has no subtlety, no brooding angst, he just threatens the other omega(s) away to their face, and then drags you somewhere private to cover you in his scent.

Later in the relationship, things change. He’s extremely confident that his alpha is his. Why would they ever leave him? He’s the best fucking omega ever!

Instead, he gets jealous if he isn’t getting enough attention because you’re spending too much time with someone else.

He doesn’t do this in a possessive way, it’s just that he doesn’t get a whole lot of free time and when his alpha spends that free time with someone else? Another omega? He’s pissed.

He gets surly and passive aggressive about it, and it’s extremely obvious.

The best way to fix it is to just give him lots of attention, he won’t behave like this is you have to leave for something important (he understands duty like the best of them), so it’s very easy to address.

Bakugou idly stirred a pot of miso soup as the radio in the kitchen blasted out whatever awful top 40 song it had picked this morning. He had only put it on to fill the silence really, which was the only thing this awful excuse for music was good for in his opinion.

He was making breakfast for the two of you as a kind of mini celebration. He had two days off in a row, the first time in a couple of months because of his crazy work schedule and he wanted to make sure he spent every moment that he could with his alpha. And so, here he was, getting up early to prepare breakfast for your both.

There was a lull in noise as the radio switched between songs, and in the few moments of silence, Bakugou could hear shuffling coming from the bathroom. He grinned. Perfect timing.

He put down the last plate and waited for you to come out, you should be here any second now.

Fiddling with your shirt one last time you swung open your bedroom door, bag on your shoulder, finally ready to leave. You were interrupted momentarily by a delicious scent in the air. Bakugou must be cooking, so you followed the smell to the kitchen and walked in to say goodbye to him, vaguely sad that you were going to be missing his food, but he was probably only making himself something to bring to work, anyway.

And then you saw the elaborate breakfast spread your heart stopped. Had you forgotten an anniversary? Bakugou looked just as shocked to see you dressed up and ready to leave. However, his shock soon melts into frustration.

“Why are you all dressed up?” he growled, the excitement that had been on his face when you walked in now gone. “You said you weren’t working today.”

“I’m not,” you said quietly, confused as to why he was so upset. “Izuku messaged me while I was getting dressed and invited me for brunch, I was just going to meet him.”

Bakugou’s face screwed up at your words. He went to open his mouth but then stopped. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was doing the breathing exercises that his therapist taught him for when he was angry. What had you done to make him this upset?

The relaxing exercises clearly weren’t working for him because he stood up from the table and stalked out of the room suddenly, shutting himself in your bedroom. You winced as the door slammed shut behind him.

Oh dear… you had made your mate so upset that he had shut himself away in your bedroom. Your stomach twisted itself into a knot. It was time for some damage control (and a quick check of the calendar to makes sure you hadn’t actually forgotten an anniversary or something.)

You shot a quick text to Midoriya, apologising for cancelling and letting him know that something had come up. He sent back a ‘don’t worry!’ message and about six smiling emojis. Well, at least he wasn’t also mad at you.

Fishing out a tray from the cupboard above the sink, you stacked it up with as much food from the table as you could, thankful that it appeared to still be warm, and carried it to your bedroom door.

“Katsuki?” you called out, knocking on the door with your foot. “I’m coming in, is that okay?”

There was silence. Well, silence was better than swearing, so you carefully slid open the door and moved towards the brooding lump on the bed.

“The fuck do you want?” he growled. “I thought you were going out to eat with Deku?”

You froze at his vicious tone. Was he jealous? Well, that was a lot easier to solve than forgetting an anniversary, at least. With a smile, you slid the tray onto the bedside table and climbed on the bed behind you mate, letting out a reassuring scent. You wrapped your arms around him, ignoring how he tensed in your embrace, and whispered into his ear.

“Why would I spend time with Midoriya when I could be spending time with you, hmm?” you whispered, purposefully blowing hot air onto his neck. You revelled in his full body shiver. “The only reason I accepted plans with Midoriya was because I thought you were going to work.” You pressed as close to him as you could and placed a single kiss right behind his ear. Bakugou melted at the affection.

“Come on now,” you continued, a coy smile on your face. “Let’s not let this delicious breakfast go to waste.”

You reached over and scooped a little bit of rice onto your fingers before holding it up to his lips. Bakugou opened his mouth with only a small grumble in complaint, and you made sure to push your fingers a little deeper inside than perhaps absolutely necessary.

“I promise I’ll make this morning’s misunderstanding up to you.”

Miscellaneous:

Bakugou’s scent is fairly sweet but still quite smoky.

When he’s upset/stressed, his scent is like burnt sugar, and when he’s very happy/excited, he smells like almost like a marshmallow roasting on a bonfire.

It’s a very pleasant scent but it does tend to divide people. Some love it, and others hate it. Bakugou doesn’t care what anyone else thinks about his scent (except his alpha, but shh, that’s a secret!)

In his family, his father is an omega and his mother is an alpha and while they are happy together, Bakugou always promised himself that he would never end up in a relationship like that. He didn’t want some alpha bossing him around like his mother bossed around his father.

Bakugou finds meek alphas (and people) annoying, but he doesn’t like super aggressive alphas either. He’s attracted to people who exist in the middle of those extremes.

Bakugou knew he was an omega from birth, and it was something he was very insecure about for a long time. It was a big part of why he turned out the way he did as a child, he was making up for something that he viewed as a weakness by being as aggressive as possible.

His mother wasn’t great at making him feel secure in his secondary gender, assuming he would like certain things and pushing him in certain directions simply because he was an omega.

His father said that he was there if Bakugou had any questions, but he let Bakugou reach out to him instead of reaching out to Bakugou, and Bakugou was too proud to make the first move.

Bakugou ends up deciding that being an omega wasn’t going to stop him becoming the No. 1 hero. He decided that he could overcome being an omega.

It wasn’t until he was an adult that he actually started to accept being an omega was a part of him that he didn’t need to overcome, but that he could instead embrace and that it didn’t make him weak to do so.

When he does become a mainstream hero, he makes sure to always tell the omega children that he meets that they can do whatever they want and still be an omega.

N-sfw under the cut

Bakugou is a switch, mostly.

Oftentimes he switches multiple times in the same session, so his alpha needs to be quite the brat tamer to keep him from getting frustrated and trying to get on top so that he can control the pace.

He has a very high sex drive, and he likes to have a partner who can match him because he way prefers sex to masturbating.

It would be hard to find someone whose chest and nipples are as sensitive as Bakugou’s, and when he’s in heat, he can definitely orgasm just from his chest being stimulated.

Bakugou is also definitely a squirter, something which he was very shocked and embarrassed to find out.

Bakugou generally prefers slightly rougher sex. He gets bored when the pace is too slow and definitely scratches and bites (and is happy to receive the same in return).

When he’s in heat, Bakugou is a bit different.

He’s not a pillow prince by any means, but he is definitely a lot more passive than he is normally.

He’s not super loud, but he definitely swears a lot, even between waves of heat when he gets grumpy that he’s too hot and sticky. That swearing is a lot less sexy though.

Bakugou’s sexual side doesn’t really come out outside of his own home. He doesn’t like flaunting anything in public and can even get uncomfortable talking about sex with his friends, especially when they tease him with personal questions. He’s definitely a private person when it comes to sex.

Although that is not to say he isn’t confident in the expression of his own sexuality, much to opposite is true. He is definitely the kind of person to order some new toy or outfit on the internet every month to surprise his alpha.

He’s sexy and he knows it, so why not?

2K notes · View notes

gukyi · 4 years

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the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur.

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks.

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all.

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode.

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments.

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did.

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself.

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half.

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you.

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off.

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything.

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong.

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds.

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you.

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated.

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly.

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly.

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you.

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years.

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost.

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about.

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless.

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together.

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest.

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you.

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement.

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows.

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click.

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why.

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair.

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems.

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you.

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship.

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it.

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio.

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic.

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since.

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have.

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows.

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in.

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once.

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this.

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right?

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins.

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing.

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention.

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind.

Another voice breaks you from your trance.

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide.

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes.

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to.

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you.

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you.

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you?

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence.

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them?

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met.

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor.

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook.

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date.

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this.

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you.

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief.

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it.

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it.

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory.

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away.

You wonder what he sees.

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders.

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door.

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door.

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left.

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind.

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet.

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side.

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet.

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive.

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist.

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him.

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them.

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted.

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing.

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter.

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash.

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them.

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him.

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card.

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black.

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised.

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure.

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body.

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is.

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you.

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown.

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back.

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further.

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you.

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him.

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet.

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment.

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester.

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there.

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that.

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right.

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk.

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room.

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind.

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world.

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well.

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen.

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written.

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now.

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page…

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over.

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling.

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed.

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom.

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else.

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head.

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now.

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over.

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease.

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart.

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you.

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving.

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless.

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?”

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating.

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him.

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain.

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing.

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure.

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth.

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about.

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out.

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process.

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world.

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious.

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side.

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her.

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #w: the love project #yes i am finishing this at 6am on the day its meant to be posted... MIND UR OWN BUSINESS

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what-i-call-men · 3 years

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The Evans w an independent significant other/how clingy the Evans are

The Evans x Gn!reader

Warnings: Some possessiveness, some mentions of killing

Tate:

Tate absolutely hates when you're independent. If it were up to him you’d stay in the house with him all day and you’d be dependent on him for everything. He hates when you leave the house, when you eat without him, even if you shower without him. Let’s be real though, if you're in the house you're not alone because even if you don't see him, Tate is there watching you all the time- hell he doesn’t have much better to do. If you tell him you're staying at a friend’s or going out at night, not sure when you’d be home, he would immediately try to stop you from going. When you eventually get off the property he waits at the window for you to come back just like a needy puppy. “But babe, why go to a party with sweaty horny teenagers when you could stay here and we could play a board game?” “Tate we played Monopoly, candy land, twister, uno and parcheesi today. I don’t even think we own any more board games.”

Kit:

Kit kinda finds it attractive. He obviously has his moments of wanting to be the provider and take care of you, but he also loves that you listen to him about his work and retain alot of it. He’s watched you diagnose a problem on your own car and you were completely correct on it when he took a look. On a night he had to stay late at the shop working on one car that wouldn’t seem to start, you show up to his work dressed in some jeans and one of his work shirts, offering to help him with the cars so he could get out of work a little sooner. Man, he almost creamed his pants then and there. He watched you as you looked under the hood, tweaking and filling and checking, not asking him for any help, and Kit was immediately reminded of why he loved you so much. Eventually he’d have to shake himself out of it, bumping your hip with his own. “Hey, suga, as great as you look bent over this car, you’re showin’ me up.”

Kyle:

Kyle absolutely loves watching you be independent and strong. You were in some of his engineering classes and you always seemed to know what you were doing. He had stopped you after the lecture and asked you for some help on one of his projects, and he was honestly wowed at your understanding of the work, having only been explained it 10 minutes earlier. He loves when you very blatantly turn down other guys or tell them that they’re wrong. He also boasts you up and helps you look better, a lot of the time this happens when you present research in class. Usually you read him your speeches as you write them, and he will ask questions after you present so you can reiterate your main points. “Any questions?” “Yeah can you tell us more about what you consider the biggest pros of solar power?” Post-death Kyle kinda depends on you so you had to be very independent. He likes to watch you carry the groceries by yourself or take care of the garden outside your small house. This includes when you have to fix up things around the house, you always muttering how you don’t need some old man coming into your house and telling you to turn a couple screws and charging you for it. Although Kyle never knows what you're doing or how to help, he is very good at holding flashlights and handing you screws. “Kyle, could you hand me the drill? No the drill… the drill… You know what, just hold this flashlight for me, hun.”

Jimmy:

Jimmy gets confused sometimes. Sometimes when you offer to carry props or set pieces, he will refuse your help and ask Eve or someone else, thinking that his significant other should never have to lift a finger as long as he has something to do with it. It isn’t until he loses his hands that he has to let you do everything. He watches as you lift set pieces, or pull down a rope and just kind of watches in awe because you are so much stronger than you look. He secretly loves watching you show off your strength, especially when you kicked a heckler right in the balls and the man passed out from the pain. When another heckler started insulting you during a show, you fully began to roast him in front of the crowd, this never failed to amaze Jimmy. He always loved to watch you deal with people like that because you were so quick to tell them off in a way that made them drop the fight all together. “Darlin’ you know if I could help it you’d never have to lift a single finger?” “Jimmy, you can’t even feed yourself, I have to lift a few fingers.”

James:

James gets conflicted by your independence. He loves when you ask him for help or when you search him out for encouragement, but when he saw you murder a man trying to abuse his girlfriend, and you dragged him to one of James’ body chutes, James couldn’t have been more proud. He loved to watch you murder alone, but he absolutely hated when you would leave the hotel to go out or go to work. He knew you didn’t need protection from him but that didn’t stop him from wanting you to jump into his arms and ask him to help you. He didn’t love it when you would go to the bar alone, all dressed up, drinking and eventually getting others to join in on seudo karaoke, but he loved to see you enjoying yourself and sometimes you’d make him join in. Most of the times you did ask him for any kind of help, you never let him do it all. Sometimes there would be a body you couldn’t lift, so James would offer his help a few times before you finally said yes, only letting him help you lift it, then shooing him away and taking care of the body by yourself. “Dearest, do you need help?” “No.” “Darling, you’re going to hurt yourself, let me help.” “No, James.”... “James, Can you just lift his feet up for me?” “Of course my love.”

Kai:

HA you thought. Kai doesn’t want you to be independent AT ALL. If you were independent before meeting him, that definitely changes when you’re with him. He doesn’t like you going out alone, if somehow you get him to budge on that, you’re not driving yourself, if you somehow do, you have a curfew to be back home by before he comes out and picks you up. Usually that leads to some sort of argument or fight. You always have to have your location on on your phone if you do go out. He also may or may not have a tracker on your car just in case. If you’re the kind of person that’s chill with not being independent, Kai will usually keep you within eyesight if you’re in the house. If you need to pee or want to make food, usually Kai will either join you or silently pick up whatever he’s doing and move with you into whatever room you’re going into. It’s less of a clingy thing as it is paranoia for him- he wants to make sure you’re loyal to him all the time. “Where’re you going?” “The bathroom to take a shower.”... “I’ll join you.” You could never really fight him on it.

Malcolm:

Malcolm kind of expects you to be independent, but he does enjoy it when you two hang out. He can’t spend all the time with you and you both have jobs that take up your time so being clingy or obsessive is a no-no for him. He likes to send you texts and pictures during the day though and he also enjoys facetiming when you can’t see each other. Overall being with Malcolm is one of the most healthy and non-toxic relationships you could be in. Even when you two move in together, you were both very independent and respectful of each others space. The only exception was on days Malcolm felt sad or lonely, he’d come over to the couch where you sat on your laptop, laying his head on your lap in the way of the screen, pouting up at you. “Can we watch some cheesy reality show and get drunk?” He’d ask and you’d laugh. “Want me to play with your hair too?” “Fucking of course.”

Jeff:

Jeff could be either one of the extremes. He’d either be extremely obsessed with you, wanting to provide you with everything you asked for before you even asked for it, or he’d tell you you’re in an open relationship and treat you like a choice. There’s really not too much in between. If he’s clingy, Jeff would put your relationship in every aspect of his life, even offering you more than your job paid you so you could just sit at his desk every day and do coke with him. He would never let you drive to work alone and would spend pretty much all day talking with you or even just staring at you as you did your own work on your laptop. “So how are you doing?” “I’m the same as I was two minutes ago.” If Jeff was ok with your independence, he’d pretty much expect it from you. If you were going to independent, so was he, pretty much meaning the two of you were not much more than fuck buddies. Sometimes though he’d get jealous of how much you got drinks bought for you at a bar, or how many other people you’d post on social media with, wishing he had the guts to ask for more from you, but never actually doing it. “Y/n can I ask you something?” “yeah.” “Do you… Would you… You want some coffee?” “Nah i’m good.”

#tate langdon #kit walker #kyle spencer #Jimmy darling #james patrick march #kai anderson #malcolm gallant #jeff pfister #the evans #the Evans x reader

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hakasims · 3 years

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The Most Important Review of Every Single Marwan Kenzari Film

If you’ve seen this one about Luca, you know the drill.

Now, Marwan’s brand is a little less defined than Luca’s but I managed to find similar tropes in a lot of his films. Also, rather than copy myself and give you a redundant Marwanmeter, I decided instead to recommend which Luca character best pairs with each Marwan character for your crossover pleasure. Let’s see if we ship the same things! Some of them are crack. You’re welcome.

(all gifs again by the awesomely amazing @weardes who did not ask to be my gif factory but life’s a bitch)

Het zusje van Katia (2008)

Will you miss him if you blink? Kinda. They talk about him a lot but his actual screen time is like 43.7 seconds. Also can I just say... he’s supposed to be from Italy?? The boy says literally one (1) Italian word, and you’ll never guess what it is. (Obviously, it’s “bella” like there’s a chance he could’ve said anything else.)

Is he hot? Painfully hot.

Is he naked? There’s this one scene where he’s wearing the sluttiest pair of speedos I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Does his hair look great? Actually, yes. Perfect hair, perfect beard, he looks amazing.

Does he fuck? Yes, a lot - off screen, including an M/M/F threesome he presumably, probably, most definitely initiated.

Best paired with? From what I’ve gathered, this hoe ain’t loyal, so the best course of action is to find him a Luca that would benefit from a one night stand with no strings attached and wouldn’t fall in love with him. The obvious choice here is Valerio from Slam - Tutto per una ragazza. They meet, they fuck, then Giac makes his 4-hour drive back to Pisa, and they don’t see each other again until the next time he’s in Rome. Everybody’s happy, especially the two sluts in question.

De laatste dagen van Emma Blank (2009)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, absolutely.

Is he hot? Very.

Is he naked? Almost constantly.

Does his hair look great? He’s got those cute short curls, he looks so good.

Does he fuck? That’s literally why he’s there: to fuck and to die.

Best paired with? Man, I wish I had something to work with here. The only thing we know about him besides his sexual prowess is his affinity for white suits and toy helicopters. And as far as I know, those might be the exact things Fabrizio from Nina finds hot in guys. So like, why not?

Loft (2010)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character.

Is he hot? Yeah, sure.

Is he naked? There’s a scene where he’s wearing underwear and a tank top but it somehow makes him look like a kindergartener.

Does his hair look great? It looks quite nice.

Does he fuck? Yes, though I wish he didn’t.

Best paired with? Tom is a very violent person and a drug addict. He does messed up stuff to his sexual partners I’d rather he didn’t do to any of Luca’s characters. Feel free to use him for your sadistic fantasies or as a villain or whatever.

Rabat (2011)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s one of the three leads.

Is he hot? Oh yes! And cute!

Is he naked? He’s at the beach wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

Does his hair look great? He’s got this extreme undercut thing that would look ridiculous on anyone less pretty, so like no, he doesn’t have great hair, but also like it’s Marwan, you know what I mean?

Does he fuck? Before he embarks on a road trip with his friends, he has an offscreen threesome with two girls he picked up at a wedding. Slut.

Best paired with? Gabriele from Waves. They’re both sweet guys who could meet in some Tunisian port and decide to sail the Mediterranean Sea together.

Black Out (2012)

Will you miss him if you blink? Not unless your blinking is very deliberate.

Is he hot? Not really. He’s a dirty cop with a shitty moustache and oral fixation.

Is he naked? No, but I wish he was: his clothes are awful. Marwan is 29 in this movie and he looks 50!

Does his hair look great? Nope. They took Marwan’s usual short hair and made it not work somehow.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? The one thing Luca’s characters all have in common is that none of them come off as bootlickers. All of them are either too soft for such a relationship or wouldn’t waste their spit on a cop.

Wolf (2013)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? *gestures wildly at the gif*

Is he naked? He’s got quite a few shirtless scenes.

Does his hair look great? It’s nothing special but suits his character well.

Does he fuck? Oh yes.

Best paired with? Hear me out. I know that some people ship him with Fabio, but in my opinion that pair, while hot, doesn’t work. Here’s my pitch: Cesare from Non essere cattivo. The drug connection is still there, but in this case Majid’s problem-solving skills won’t fall on deaf ears. Cesare needs a daddy, ok? Majid can be a daddy when he needs to, especially when he has a soft boyfriend to care for. And Majid needs soft, not psycho.

Hartenstraat (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist once again.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? There’s that iconic scene where he’s wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and boots while carrying a tray...

Does his hair look great? He’s got Joe-like curls and looks like what every male romantic lead should aspire to look like and then cry because they all fail.

Does he fuck? There’s one very unfortunate sex scene played for laughs. I’m pretty sure he’ll need therapy afterwards. I certainly do.

Best paired with? Paolo from Il padre d’Italia. Paolo deserves the best boyfriend, and who’s better than Daan, an extremely hot man who cooks? They both have daughters, so they can talk about that, I guess, and Paolo can finally have a family. Honestly, this is so wholesome I just made myself cry.

Lucia de B. (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? For sure.

Is he hot? He’s a cop. Again. But he looks good.

Is he naked? Fully dressed, but man are his clothes ugly. Is that a cop thing?

Does his hair look great? He has slightly longer curls, which is fine and the best thing about this character.

Does he fuck? ACAB. (I know this doesn’t answer the question, I just wanted to make it clear.)

Best paired with? See my bootlicker comment from earlier. While Detective *checks notes* Ron Leeflang isn’t explicitly corrupt, he’s obviously a dick, so the best I can do here is recommend any Luca character that has ever been in trouble with the law for any fics about power imbalance you want to write but aren’t comfortable with a nice Marwan playing the villain.

Bloedlink (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Oh no, he’s there the entire time.

Is he hot? In a weird way, yes.

Is he naked? So, so, so naked. Like, leave nothing to the imagination naked.

Does his hair look great? I’d say that little rat tail is the exact opposite of great.

Does he fuck? Probably more than is good for him. I should also add that he’s canonically queer in this.

Best paired with? Rico is a pathetic loser in need of someone who’s got his life together and has a lot of experience dealing with fuckups. Enter Loris from Il mondo fino in fondo. He has a stable job and a savior complex, and with his little bro gaying it up in Chile and not needing him anymore, all he wants right now is someone to fix. I should be a fucking matchmaker in real life, for real.

Pak van mijn hart (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Undoubtedly.

Is he hot? No. The whole point of his character is to be the lesser choice compared to a guy who looks like a completely ordinary bland white dude...

Is he naked? ...so of course he isn’t naked! What, are they gonna take this poor woman, show her Marwan Kenzari’s post-Wolf body and expect her to choose her deeply mediocre ex? Please! They’re gonna dress him in the dorkiest clothes possible...

Does his hair look great? ...and make him wear the most awful wig that was clearly run over by a truck.

Does he fuck? No. As you can observe, they tried really hard to make him unfuckable, but honestly, he seems like a perfectly nice guy.

Best paired with? You know what? Mattia from La solitudine dei numeri primi is in desperate need of some sweetness and normalcy. I’m sure Richard will treat him with kindness and respect.

Collide (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character. Out of five.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? Not for a second! What’s up with American movies where people aren’t just casually walking around naked without any plot necessity???

Does his hair look great? His curls are so cute you guys! Look at them!

Does he fuck? Not explicitly.

Best paired with? Fabio from Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot. Again, the drug connection is there, but Matthias is soft enough not to butt heads with Fabio and, by the end of the movie, rich enough to satisfy his cravings for good living and fame. Also look at how good their color coordination is with those dark wine red clothes! Sometimes planets just align, okay?

Ben-Hur (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, especially if you aren’t watching the background.

Is he hot? Your usual Marwan hot.

Is he naked? No.

Does his hair look great? His typical short curls with a twist. I think the forehead area is supposed to invoke the Caesar cut? I don’t know. It looks fine when not hidden under that dumb helmet.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? A better script and a much better director. (Seriously, what is this blocking?)

The Promise (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there a decent amount in the first half of the movie and then almost completely disappears in the second half.

Is he hot? Very much, yes.

Is he naked? Unfortunately, no.

Does his hair look great? He’s got short curls again, but this time they’re fashionably styled, it’s magnificent.

Does he fuck? Oh yeah! And there’s no way he isn’t bi or pan in this. No way.

Best paired with? Roberta from L’ultimo terrestre. Listen, Emre Ogan may be a slut but he’s a gentleman, okay? He’d treat Roberta right and he’s got daddy’s cash to spare on hundreds of gorgeous white dresses for her.

The Mummy (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there, but barely.

Is he hot? Dangerously hot.

Is he naked? Not once! Instead we get a naked Tom Cruise literally no one asked for.

Does his hair look great? It’s your basic professional short hairdo.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Malik is a member of an organization tracking and destroying various monsters and historical artefacts related to them. Guido from Tutti i santi giorni speaks four languages, including Latin, and is a literature and ancient history nerd which makes him a valuable asset. Malik can fight and protect; Guido is bumbling and in need of saving. Guys, this writes itself.

What Happened to Monday (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, especially not in the third act.

Is he hot? He’s okay.

Is he naked? Very naked.

Does his hair look great? They shouldn’t have greased his curls back. He looks like another victim of Fabio Cannizzaro’s stylist. Also I wish he’d either shaved or finished growing out that beard.

Does he fuck? He fucks and he fucks good. He’ll go down on you, he’ll deflower you slowly and gently, he’ll choke you if you want him to, he’ll spoon you all night, he’ll give you emotional support, he’ll murder people for you - he’s down for whatever.

Best paired with? There’s one Luca character who needs a lot of sex and even more emotional support. Alright, most of them do, but I’m thinking of Ettore from Lasciate andare. He needs it, okay? Good dicking, good spooning, a good ear, a fine piece of ass to cry into - you get the gist. Most importantly: someone who’d love him for who he is and with whom he could relax and be himself. (Also, I see you, people comparing him to Fabio. Shame on you for sleeping on this soft boy and judging him based on his appearance.)

Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s kinda always present, being very French.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? No, but I’m willing to forgive that because he looks so good in his conductor uniform.

Does his hair look great? He never takes off his hat.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Mickey Miranda. They’re both murderers morally dubious characters who would look hot together. What else do you need? (Again, I see you, people who want Pierre for Roberta because he’s a “nice guy”, and I know for a fact you didn’t watch the movie. Spoilers, I guess.)

The Angel (2018)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? Oh yes.

Is he naked? Not once, but you won’t regret it because he’s wearing excellently stylish 1970s clothes.

Does his hair look great? It looks fantastic. The sideburns (not yet seen here) are a good touch.

Does he fuck? He can definitely get it, but he’s loyal to his wife.

Best paired with? As the most aesthetically coherent and fashionably hot pair in this post, Ashraf and Primo are a no-brainer. Can you imagine Primo calling him “Angel” in different contexts? When he’s being intimidating, not realizing how palpable the sexual tension between them is, and later not even hiding his arousal? Sometimes things just work because they’re hot. That’s all, folks.

Aladdin (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the main villain.

Is he hot? It’s not like he went viral for being the “hot Jafar” or anything.

Is he naked? No! Fucking thanks a lot, Disney.

Does his hair look great? He has a buzz cut under that turban but he looks good in the turban, so that’s something.

Does he fuck? It’s a Disney movie, so he doesn’t fuck - explicitly or otherwise - but he still comes off as a thirsty bitch.

Best paired with? Jafar ends the movie as a genie who’s obligated to grant his master three wishes but is enough of a petty bitch to exploit the hell out of the “gray area” and screw them over Wishmaster style. My unconventional pair for him is Lui from Ricordi? So many scenarios with distorted memories and magic-induced mindfuck. So many possibilities for awesome and messed up crossover gifsets! Don’t say I never give you guys anything.

Instinct (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s very prominent.

Is he hot? I hate myself for finding him hot but I do.

Is he naked? He’s playing basketball shirtless in one scene, shaking his sweaty boobs everywhere.

Does his hair look great? His weird mohawk-like thing is honestly terrible, but if anything can make it work, it’s Marwan’s bone structure.

Does he fuck? Um, I’m pleading the Fifth on this one for the sake of good taste.

Best paired with? Prison. A very lonely, Luca-less prison.

The Old Guard (2020)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, unless blinking in your case means sleeping through the gloriousness that is the first ever canonically gay couple in an American action film.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? Shirtless in one scene.

Does his hair look great? Soft curls courtesy of Luca Marinelli’s tireless lobbying.

Does he fuck? Not on screen, but you can just tell by the way he looks at his husband and reads impromptu poetry right to his face. And everybody knows nothing kindles the fires of passion quite like murdering homophobes together.

Best paired with? If you have to ask, you’re clearly reading this by mistake. In which case, kudos for finishing such a long and confusing post, now go watch The Old Guard and cry at the beauty that is The Immortal Marriage.

#marwan kenzari #luca marinelli #the old guard #and other movies #i'm lazy #immortal husbands #and their parallel versions i guess #crossover ships galore

1K notes · View notes

atinydise · 3 years

Text

Ateez reacting to their s/o holding their hands for the 1st time

❦ Genre: Fluff.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3k3.

❦ Requested: Yes, thank you! 🦋

HONGJOONG

You were peacefully staring at the sky from your window. You've been staring at it since the departure. It was such a beautiful view that you wouldn't be bored it even with 11 hours of flight. "What are you staring at, love?" Asked Hongjoong, finally removing his earphones. 'Love'. You will never get used to him calling you this way. It never fails to make your heart beating faster than ever. "The view with the sunset is just so relaxing." You smiled. "Look at this with..." he struggled to untangle his earphone. The short imagination of him losing his AirPods for the 823rd time, got you smiling. "Song." He finally inserted it on your ear.

A soft and calm music started to play. All of your senses were comforted by these clear notes. "Sounds like a commercial music, right?" Giggled your boyfriend. "No... it's relaxing." You claimed. "I could fall asleep in 2 seconds because of it." "Then go ahead." He patted his shoulder, telling you to rest on it. Without hesitating, you put your head on. It was comfier than what you thought. Not something pointy and hard that could bother with your earrings or piercings. "Is it comfy?" Asked Hongjoong, a tiny bit worried. Too reassure him, you simply nodded and grabbed his forearm with your hand. Just to keep him close. Hongjoong wasn't used to you, showing this kind of attention in public. He was a bit taken a back, but finally only you mattered. The song was leading you in a soft and calm mindset. Your eyes were closing at every note and your entire body felt like a feather. Your boyfriend guessed that you were falling asleep because your hand was sliding on his forearm. 5 minutes later, your head almost fell from Hongjoong's shoulder. He quickly put it back in place, but it caused your hand to rest right in his free one. The warmness and the softness of his palm made you unconsciously held his hand. Tight. Hongjoong took his time to realize what was happening. Even if you were sleeping, he was hickey flustered. He was staring at your fingers, intertwined with his. Your boyfriend couldn't help but smile and blush. More when he tried to remove your grip, but you tightened it. "Cute." He whispered. Hongjoong and you were not really tactile and clingy persons, but when these moments happen, for the first time or rarely, both of you desire that it never stops. It was your moment only.

SEONGHWA

"I can't believe we are here already!" You stomped enthusiastically. Seonghwa was staring at you. You were so happy and cute. The way, you were holding your backpack straps made him melt instantly. "Disneyworld..." you sighed joyfully. "It's magic!" Seonghwa nodded, they really created a whole world and it felt unreal since he put a foot there. "Where do you want to start?" He asked, opening the map. "Space mountain!" You almost yelled, pointing at the localization pin. "Really? But we ate 2 hours ago?" He gulped, thinking at the amount of looping. "What a baby." You smirked. "Then what about... Peter Pan? Or Ratatouille?" "Okay I agree for the last one." He accepted. "Let's go!" You almost ran to the crowd, not wanting people to take your place in the queue. Seonghwa was looking at every details of the amusement park. All the shops had their own magical surfaces. He needs to come here with the members one time. They would go crazy for sure. "Fast Park Seonghwa!" You pouted. To tease you a little bit more, he started to walk slower. He deducted that it was working well because he spotted the vein on your forehead. "You are so slow!" You complained. Not thinking twice about your actions, you held his hand and led him to the attraction. The moment he felt your hand in his huge one, his stomach clenched. A thousand of butterflies were flying there. You were too focused on the board that you didn't saw the light blush on his face. But you secretly liked to hold his hand. It felt just right. "Bingo!" You pointed at the clock, "only 5 minutes of queueing." Seonghwa was barely listening to you. He was looking at your hands fitting perfectly in his. You had a moment of doubt, maybe he didn't like it and was too nice to tell you. You tried to detach your embrace slowly, but he tightened his grip on it. "Don't." He said seriously. "I like it." You smiled shyly at him. "It's the first time we are holding hands." He giggled. "A-Ah really?" You stuttered, a bit flustered. Seonghwa was about to reply when his phone buzzed in his pocket. You thought that he would let your hand free, but you were wrong. He struggled a bit to get it out of the pocket but no way he would use both of his hands. "Yeah Joong?" He rolled his eyes. "No. I told you I had a date today with Y/N. At Disneyworld." You glanced at him when you heard the word "date". Seonghwa saw your facial expression and winked cockily. You ignored what feels the most magical now; Disneyworld or a date with Seonghwa?

YUNHO

More and more you were moving forward in the queue, more you wanted to run away. Your friends advised you to go in a haunted house with Yunho, for your first date. At first, you didn't realize the situation. You only thought about a way to be close to him without being awkward. Yunho is scared of absolutely, nothing. He could play with a tarantula, then dance with a venomous snake without problem. So, a haunted house was nothing for him. But for you, it was another story. "Are you okay Y/N? You are shaking a bit." Asked Yunho thinking that you were already scared. "Even a lot." "I'm good!" You slapped his shoulder, puffing a bit. "It's just the anticipation." "Ok cool. I thought you had this kitschy idea to stay glued to me for the whole time. But I would probably be the one doing it." He laughed. "N-No. So, cliché." You laughed nervously, cursing at your friends in your mind. Not even 30 seconds later, the host led you inside. You were completely terrified. You couldn't even enjoy a single moment the proximity or the thought or having a romantic intercourse with Yunho. "Oh wow, that's well made." He pointed at the spider above you. You did your best to suppress the scream stuck in your throat. "W-Wait. You are working too fast." You tugged his shirt. "Are you scared?" He teased you. "We can go out if you-" "No." You shook your head. "Just stay close." You wrapped your arm around his. Yunho admitted that it was cute. Of course, he was aware of your plan when you invited him to the haunted house. You couldn't even walk next to a worm, without yelling. Suddenly and even Yunho shivered, a skeleton almost fell at your right. Your first reflex was to grab his hand and to hide behind his tall figure. Even though the situation wasn't the best, Yunho's heart flustered. Thanks to the darkness, you couldn't see the blush on his cheeks. His stomach clenched when your fingers placed right between his long ones. This action never had such an impact before. He was used to hold Atiny's hand during fansign. But it was nothing compared to this feeling. The rest of the way, you never let his hand go. Nor let 2 centimeters away from you. When finally, you exited the nightmare, the reality hit you. "Well done Y/N." Said Yunho. "F-For what? I've been a scared baby there." You faked to fix your clothes. "I thought you would jump on me right when we entered, but no. You had shown an amazing braveness." He giggled patting the back of your head. You grunted few words, too nervous and shy to admit your plan. "Give me your hand lady. Let's go inside again. I liked it." He smiled.

YEOSANG

["Y/N"] ["Bring ice cream."] Without hesitation you run to your kitchen and took a vanilla post in the refrigerator. You messily put your shoes and exited the college dorm. ["On my way!"] After 5 minutes of walking and avoiding bumping into every single person in the street, you arrived to Ateez' dorm. Right when you exited the elevator, you saw Wooyoung closing the door. "Wow. I want a best friend like you. In less than 15 minutes you there." Claimed Wooyoung. "How is he? Good or?" "A complete mess." He replied. You rolled your eyes, "I swear... I told him to stay away from this type of girl." "Good luck." Shrugged Wooyoung. "Wait, you are not going to comfort him?" "Why. I know that you are here." He patted your shoulder. "I'll watch a movie. See ya!" "Jung Wooyoung! I swear-" "Are you going to stay there the whole day, or you are going to enter and comfort me?" Asked Yeosang, who came out after hearing your voice in the hallway. "Be nice with me. I brought you a vanilla pot." You lifted your plastic bag. "Cool. Now I can be completely depressed and heartbroken." He whined. After that, you both sat on the couch, enjoying the calm for once. Yeosang explain that he prepared the best date for her and he even bought flowers. But she never shown up, nor replied to his texts. "You don't deserve her. I told you that already and a bunch of times." You ate another spoon of ice cream. "Are you going to eat all of this by yourself?" He slapped your hand, causing the spoon to fall. You rolled your eyes and faced him. "Yeosang, stop being sad for her. You are a real treasure and too bad for her, she lost someone really special." You grabbed both of his hands and rubbed it with your thumbs. "Even if you are a bit savage sometimes, you are such a good person." Yeosang's eyes couldn't leave the sight of your hands, holding, squeezing and rubbing his. "And she's stupid. You are probably the perfect boyfriend on this earth." You claimed. "I would be grateful to have a boyfriend like you." He raised his brow, by surprise. You instantly flickered his forehead. "Don't even think about it." He sneered, knowing that you would say something like that. "How do you feel?" You asked when you finally saw a smile on his face. Yeosang hesitated a second, but finally chose to take his sad facial expression back. "Hold my hand and tell me how amazing I am again. It might help." You rolled your eyes. "This guy... Anyway." You ordered and held his hands once again. Screw the compliment. That's what he really wanted.

SAN

You were waiting your boyfriend for 15 minutes already. He as late. Like always. But you never been mad about it. San was doing his best to spend some time with you despite having a heavy and full schedule. The last thing you could do, to just show him how grateful you are, is to be patient. "Y/N!" Shouted San, running to you. He was smiling widely and waving crazily. "Slow down, you are going to trip." You warned him when you judged he was close enough. "Sorry." He paused, catching his breath. "I'm late again." "It's okay babe." You pecked his cheek, making his heart jolt a tiny bit. "To apologize, you can choose everything you want us to do today." He said happily. Next thing he knew he was trying to walk for the first time with rollers. "Y/N, I can't do this!" He whined, holding the ramp on the wall. "Come on! I know that you can be really good at this." You encouraged your boyfriend. "How do you manage to stay still with this?!" "It's still my feet. I'm the only one controlling them." You smiled, turning around him. "Oh my god, help me." He sighed, trying to stop his legs to shake like a newborn. "Okay." You stopped at his left. "I'll help you." San gulped when you slid your hand over his forearm to gently hold his hand. He was still amazed by the softness of your palm that he didn't realize that the wall was getting far away every seconds. "I can't believe that we are holding hands." He finally said. You simply giggled, ignoring what to say. "I thought that I would need to do it first. I know how shy you are princess." "Stay focused Sanie." You replied, a smile glued on your face. "Your hand is so cute in mine. It's like it was meant to be there." "San." "I want this moment to pause forever." He claimed. "Babe." "I can’t believe!" He sang, using the same tone as Chen in Exo*. "And I can't believe, you made a whole round without falling." San finally looked around him. He was so focused on your hand that he completely forgot his main task. "I'm roller-skating!" He shouted victoriously. "I'm a grown man now." "Can the grown man detach his hand now that's he's a pro?" "Never."

MINGI

Mingi is shy. On the stage, he always looks fierce, confident and cool. But in reality, he is a cute and shy boy. It took him 20 minutes to ask you on a date. You spent your entire break from your old part time job, to listen to him, stuttering 2 words by minute. With respect, of course, you always kept your distance and understood that he was not into showing affection in public. Then you always 'stayed in your place' and be affectioned in private. But even not that much because he was still taken a back. Tonight, they all had a rough day and Seonghwa offered to walk an hour in the park below. You encouraged them, saying that it was a good idea. So here you are, leading the walk with your boyfriend. The rest of the members behind you, a bit like chaperones. Everyone could tell that this little walk was relaxing. One by one, they all found their smiles back. "Do you remember Bridgerton?" You asked. Mingi raised a brow, "the show that made you drool and fangirl about the dresses?" "Yeah!" You snapped. "The boys looks like our parents, checking that we don’t do anything wrong." You smirked. The tall boy looking behind him. The 7 other boys were minding their own business. "Not really. They totally don’t give a f about us." He sneered. "Ah really? So, it won't bother anyone if... I do something like." You removed your hand out of your pocket to held Mingi's one. As expected, he blushed and stuttered that they were just behind. "Come on...." You teased him, squeezing his hand. "We are dating for 3 months and you never held my hand. So, I do it." "Y/N!" He blushed even more. "Ooooouh Song Mingi!" Shouted the boys behind. Some of them were whistling, one by one. Few ones were clapping, and San Yunho were imitating the scene. Even though Mingi was cringing, it was not bad at all. "Song Mingi is a man now! He's holding a girl's hand." Shouted Wooyoung. All of their comment started to make you awkward too. But in a good way. Judging that you teased Mingi enough. You tried to untangle your fingers. "Finish what you started." Said Mingi, tightening his grip. "You put us in this situation, so you need to assume it too." A nervous laugh came out from your throat when he put both of your hands in his pocket. Of course, this move caused the other boys to start yelling behind both of you. But you could still live with it.

WOOYOUNG

Even if you agreed to spend the night at the dorm Wooyoung still found the situation awkward. It's been 2 weeks that you were officially dating. Everything was perfect. You both had a real great harmony. Even the other members claimed that they were jealous of your chemistry. The only problem which was not a big deal but still bothers Wooyoung, was that you were not really the 'clingy type'. You barely touched each other. He respected that you needed to hold our hand sometimes or just give you a hug or a peck randomly. "What are you thinking about?" You asked sliding under the sheets. "You keep looking at the ceiling." Wooyoung hesitated a second to tell you what was bothering him. But he finally decided to not say anything and to not put you in a awkward situation. "Nothing, just tired." He yawned. "Let's sleep." You nodded and made sure both of you were well covered. "Good night Wooyoungie." "Night Y/N." You couldn’t see his face, but he was disappointed when you turned around, showing your back to him asking if he was asleep already. He finally cracked an eye when he felt your warmness just next to him. His heart started to rush. Wooyoung even though it would stop functioning when you grabbed his hand to held yours. You slowly rested your interlaced hands on your belly. Wooyoung was burning behind you. The dozen of mini him were dancing and shouting along in his head. When you started to rub your thumb over his skin, it completely drove him crazy. Wooyoung could felly your belly on his forearm. because of that, he wanted so bad to squeeze and hug you until you couldn't breathe anymore. "I know that you are awake." You whispered, giggling a bit. Just in case this moment would stop, he preferred to stay quiet. "I feel your heart bumping, jolting and clenching in your chest." You added. "I just... love this." He finally admitted. You simply stuck your body closer to him and snuggled gently against it. "This shit drives me crazy. You seem so tiny." "Just sleep." You giggled, enjoying his presence. "I can't sleep anymore! I feel like I'm going to explode." He replied, happily. "What did I do..." you sighed, smiling a little bit.

JONGHO

You just felt your friends. You spent the whole day looking for a dress. And not a casual dress. An amazing and fancy one. Just to go with your boyfriend at a gala. You needed to get along with everyone there or to be at least presentable. Jongho told you that you could wear anything you want, but your desire was to impress everyone there. Especially the CEO, so he could stop looking at you like a trash. Just when you got out of the café, you spotted a red-haired guy, in the same alley of you. You doubted a second, but you saw him holding an Ice americano. It was your boyfriend for sure. Without hesitating, your ran to his direction. When you were at 5 meters behind him, you walked slowly and quietly. You recognized the Chanel earrings you gave him and his Louis Vuitton sport bag. "He's so expensive." You thought. Not waiting anymore, you grabbed his free hand. Jongho had the instant reflex to step away and to brush the hand off. "Hello young man, are you single?" You winked at him. His face softened, when he saw your face. "No sorry. I'm taken and take care because she's crazy." "Hey!" You pouted. Jongho sneered, proud of his own joke. When finally, he realized. "Oh." Wondering why this sudden behavior and glanced where's he was looking at. "What?" "It's the first time that you are holding my hand." He blinked. "We do this all the time." "No. You don't get it. It's incredible." "What?" "Your hand is hold mine. It's the best thing ever." You raised a brow, "you are too much." “I’m usually the one holding yours but now!” “You-” "Do not move." He kept staring at it. People walking past to you, were giving you a weird look. Jongho was looking at your hands in awe. "She's holding my hand too! And the first time!" He said to a couple passing by. "Choi Jongho." You slapped his shoulder gently, completely embarrassed. "Let's go to Hongdae!" "Why suddenly?" You asked. "So, we can walk there!" "It's 1 hour far away from here!" "Yes. Exactly. That's the point." He smiled widely, already enjoying the idea.

*Exo - Tempo: it’s a song which had been praised by many (I do recommend to watch Ateez covering this because it’s a m a z i n g) and Chen’s lyrics intro (0:02) really had his impact.

#ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez writings #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez cute #ateez x you #ateez x atiny #ateez kpop

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just--another--daydreamer · 3 years

Text

Bound Souls

» Izuku Midoriya x male reader

» Genre: Angst & Fluff » Requested (by @thatcucumberwhore): Soulmates with Midoriya and male reader? 👉🏼👈🏼😊 » Summary: Soulmate AU where soulmates share the same superpower. You were born quirkless and fall in love with the insanely powerful hero student Midoriya » Warnings: just some angst and crying » Words: 2.6k

You can find a link to my Masterlist etc in my bio and pinned post

***

Soulmate AU where soulmates share the same superpower

“Are you Y/N from the General Education department? Class 1-C?” You closed your locker and turned around. A boy stood in front of you, a bit too close, which he noticed too and took a step back while muttering an apology under his breath. “Yeah, that’s me.” You looked the boy up and down. His tie was not tied properly, his green hair was a mess and he looked way too excited to see you while you had no idea who he was. Judging by the single button on the shoulder part of his uniform he belonged in the hero department.

“And you are…?” “Oh, of course, sorry!” The boy stood up straight before bowing shortly. “I’m Izuku Midoriya from class 1-A! I sent you an email about the tutoring yesterday!” “Ahh yeah I almost forgot about that!” You only vaguely remembered putting up a small ad on the school’s website, saying that you would be willing to help other students with different subjects and topics in school that they did not understand. Especially for students from the hero department it was not uncommon to need tutoring since most of them were way too focused on the practical part of being a hero and neglected basic things like maths or foreign languages.

You opened your backpack and pulled out your calendar. “It was English and maths, right? I’m free this afternoon, so we could meet at the café that’s quite close to the school’s entrance? You know which one I’m talking about?” Midoriya nodded, so you scribbled the time into your calendar. “Alright, I’ll see you after school then!”

***

The warm air in the small café smelled sweet like cake and waffles when you entered. A few students from UA and other schools sat in groups and pairs at the tables with their faces either buried in books or enjoying something to eat while chatting. Midoriya was already there; he sat at a table next to a window, so you approached him.

“Have you been waiting for long?” Midoriya shook his head. The hero student had changed after school, he was now wearing an All Might hoodie. Nerd. You sat down and put your backpack on the empty chair next to you. Even though Midoriya had prepared himself for a longer and more relaxed stay at the café, and thus had ordered a drink as well as a snack, you got straight to the point.

“I’m willing to be your tutor, but according to your email you ranked fourth during your midterms? Why would you need tutoring for that?” You watched Midoriya’s face turn red. “Well, that has multiple reasons,” he started to mumble incoherently. “Don’t want to fall behind… Need to do my best… Then there was the-… and I wasn’t allowed in class…” You could not make much sense of anything but the last part. “You-” you pointed at Midoriya and narrowed your eyes. “-were one of the students fighting at night, weren’t you?” The colour of Midoriya’s face changed from light red to tomato red. “Y-yeah…” he sighed. “I didn’t miss many classes but all that’s on my mind is the practical hero stuff like fighting and I train that instead of studying for the other subjects. So, before the written exams, I always spend my time catching up and studying way too much and I want to change that. I need to work more on that stuff throughout the term, not last-minute.”

“I thought so.” You opened your backpack and pulled out a pencil and a notepad. “That’s a problem many hero students have, so I’m willing to help you with this!” Midoriya started smiling. “That’s great, thank you!” He reached into his own bag and put some books on the table. “Let’s get started then!”

Izuku Midoriya. Now that you were watching him rewrite his English essay for the third time, you remembered where you had seen him before. He had stood out at the sports festival as the kid who had broken all of his bones while using his quirk. Strong and effective but useless at the same time. You wondered if his soulmate had the same problems using their shared quirk. Shaking your head, you dismissed that thought.

Midoriya bit his pencil and furrowed his brows at his paper. “Can I help?” you offered and Midoriya nodded. “Did I use the correct tense here?” He slid his paper over to you and you skimmed his last sentence. “Looks fine to me. But I’d use a different word right here and here.” You drew circles around a few words. “Your English grammar is great, but your vocabulary needs work.”

“Alright, thanks!” Instead of getting back to work, Midoriya took a sip from his mug and looked at you. “You’re a great teacher,” he told you. “Are you considering becoming one?” The question caught you off-guard. You put your pencil down, sat back and thought about the question for a few seconds. “It’s not my first choice,” you admitted, “but that first choice won’t work out, so I’m considering becoming a teacher.” “Then what was your first choice?” “I wanted to become a hero. Like everyone else.”

Midoriya curiously cocked his head to the side. “Why didn’t it work out?” “’cause I’m quirkless,” you answered dryly. It was not something you liked talking about. Quirkless people were looked down upon more and more, and not being able to become a hero was not the only downside. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Your vis-à-vis said and looked down on his paper. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault after all.” “But I brought it up and you seem sad about it.” While that was true, you did not want him to feel guilty about it. So, instead of replying, you tapped on his paper with your pencil. “C’mon, fix that sentence!” Your student complied.

Your study session ended after two and a half hours, in which you had forced Midoriya to re-write his essay about four times. Even though you had dragged him through hell, he asked for your number and to meet you again in the future. Once you had stepped outside, Midoriya pulled out his wallet. “So how much for this lesson?” You looked at him, dumbfounded, before you began to laugh. “W-what’s wrong?” Midoriya lowered the hand that was holding the money when you raised your hands to mutely indicate that you did not want his money. “But it’s your time that you could spend in other ways!”

Even though he had a point, you shook your head. “Normally I’d take money, but I had a different idea,” you explained. “I’d like to ask you to teach me a thing or two about self-defence and fighting. It’s always useful, y’know?” “So you help me with my homework, and I help you train?” You nodded and offered Midoriya your hand. “Deal?” Midoriya shook your hand without hesitation. “Deal!” With that, you started walking back to the campus together.

Since it was getting dark, not too many people were out anymore. A few UA students were on their way back to campus as well, but you did not pay much attention to them. The two people who caught your eye were two girls standing in front of a park’s gates. One of them opened her hand and let her palm face upward. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a flower grew out of the palm of her hand, glowing in a warm, white light that lit up both the girls’ faces. The other girl clapped before doing the exact same. Shared quirks. Soulmates.

You looked down at your own hands.

Besides not being able to become a hero, never finding your soulmate was the other downside of being quirkless. Sure, the number of quirkless people was low in your generation, but there still was not that one person you could find. It was not even proven if quirkless people had a soulmate like people with quirks, who shared one and the same ability with their soulmate. It was not looked down upon to be in a relationship with someone who was not your soulmate, in fact, platonic soulmates were a thing as well as dating someone who was not your soulmate and people embraced that idea. And sometimes you held onto that romantic thought of meeting your soulmate and growing old with them together, either platonically or romantically. But being quirkless made that impossible.

“Why did you stop walking? Are you alright?” Midoriya was a few steps ahead of you already when he stopped and looked back at you. “Y/N?” You tore your eyes away from the girls and forced a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry!” As the sun finally set, you reached the dorms and said goodbye for the night.

After that, you continued to meet Midoriya for extra tutoring as well as basic fight training, and you started to become friends. Whenever you saw each other on the hallway, he smiled at you sweetly, and you even ate lunch together every now and then because he needed you to read over his homework before class.

The training with Midoriya was exhausting, the hero students had some insane workout routines that you could never dream of completing.

But like every week, there you were again in your PE clothes in the small park surrounding UA. Next to you stood Midoriya, currently telling you about the importance of stretching as you popped your joints with every single movement.

After a while, Midoriya left you to do some push-ups while he activated his quirk to do some training on his own. He dropped his hoodie to the ground, exposing the many scars on his arms. It was not your first time seeing them, but they fascinated you every single time. Midoriya pushed himself so hard and got hurt so often, yet he never gave up on his dream of becoming a hero. You envied him a little – after all his quirk was insanely powerful. A sigh escaped you as you watched him from your planking position. “Are you done already?” Shit, Midoriya had caught you staring. A faint blush adorned his cheeks as he approached you, the green light from his quirk still surrounding him. “Yeah,” you lied, not having done a single push-up. You moved from your current position into a sitting one and Midoriya sat down as well.

“You didn’t do the push-ups, did you?” “You’re right, that was a lie,” you admitted. “You seem distracted, is there something on your mind?” Midoriya’s question caught you off-guard. “Of course, you don’t have to share, but I’m here to listen, if you’d like.” You nodded with a smile. “Thank you, Midoriya.” Taking a few deep breaths, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. The cool evening air smelled like grass and autumn, a calming scent that let you relax a little.

“One of my friends from class 1-C recently met her soulmate,” you told Deku. “Of course, I’m happy for her, she deserves it, but… but I’m jealous at the same time. People like her and you get to be happy with someone, but what about me? I-” you balled your hands to fists as tears dwelled in your eyes. “I’m just someone quirkless who’s doomed to never find someone, you know?” Before your tears started falling, you quickly wiped them away with your hand.

Midoriya looked at you with his brows furrowed. “You’re jealous of me? Because of the quirk I was born with?” His gaze fell on his hands. “Normally I don’t think about the soulmate thing too much, but- but I’ve fallen in love with someone born with a quirk.” Your breath got caught in your throat as you said it out loud for the first time. It was honestly surprising that you managed to admit that to yourself as well as to somebody else. Deku’s eyes shot up again and met yours.

“Oh,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry.” You let out a shaky sigh before you continued. “Deku, that person is you.” A sob shook your body. “But you have this amazing quirk, so I know that it’s already impossible, no matter what I do or what happens now that I told you.” Shock painted Midoriya’s face almost white. His mouth stood agape as he stared at you, no reaction. It was not like you had expected anything different to happen, but it still hurt. Your heart stung and the pain filled your whole chest.

Without your brain even telling your body to do anything, you got up and stood in front of Midoriya. “I’m sorry, forget it. I gotta go.” You turned around on your heels and made your way back to the dorms, stumbling across the grass with trembling legs. This was a nightmare. An actual nightmare. The cold breeze stung on your tear-stained cheeks, but the light of the dormitories was already in sight, promising warmth, and a blanket to hide beneath.

“Y/N! Wait!” You heard footsteps coming closer quickly and Midoriya’s voice yelling your name. “Please wait!” Your legs stopped walking by themselves and you came to a halt. “I- I-,” he struggled for words, but nothing came out, he just kept on stuttering incoherent words and sentences. He reached out and grabbed your hand loosely, but you still felt the way his fingers trembled. “Let me go, Midoriya.” With your free arm, you wiped the tears from your cheeks that had begun to fall again. “Please.” Your hand dropped to your chest and you clutched your shirt directly over your heart. It hurt. It hurt so damn much.

“No.” Midoriya’s voice was quite yet he was sure of what he said. “Y/N, I- that was a lie.” He panted slightly from running after you. “My quirk,” Midoriya sighed as his grip on your hand tightened a little. “I used to be quirkless!” It felt like time stopped around you, Midoriya’s yelling echoed in your head but you could not make sense of it. “What?” You turned around slowly. Midoriya’s eyes were red and filled with tears, and he seemed to struggle with keeping his composure.

“I was born quirkless,” he repeated, calmer this time. His hand let go off yours and limply dropped to his side. “Somebody else gave me my quirk.” “All Might,” you mumbled and Midoriya nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. I inherited his quirk One for All.” He shook his head shortly. “But that’s not important right now.” Midoriya took a step toward you.

“Y/N, I-” a blush crept up his neck and painted his cheeks in a soft pink. “-I believe that you are my soulmate.” For what felt like the hundredth time that day, your heart skipped a beat. “But- but quirkless people-” “-don’t have a soulmate?” Midoriya finished your sentence. “I don’t believe that. And even if I did, it wouldn’t stop me from… from…” The faint pink changed into a deep red. “…liking you…” Your breath got caught in your throat. “You’re joking, right?”

“No! I like you, Y/N,” Midoriya repeated, more confident this time. “And I didn’t say anything because I felt the same way about being quirkless as you do, and because I thought that someone somewhere received the same quirk as me, but that’s not the case. I was born quirkless and I fell for someone who was born quirkless too.” His lips quivered as he told you this, probably dwelling in memories. Midoriya took a step toward you.

“Y/N, it doesn’t matter if we actually are soulmates or not.” He reached out and took one of your hands in his once again. “It doesn’t stop me from liking you. Please, go out with me?” All you were able to do was giving him a short nod.

#izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x male reader #midoriya izuku x male reader #deku #midoriya izuku #midoriya #x reader #x yn #x you #x male reader #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader

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neoaevis · 3 years

Note

58, 56, 68 + Winwin pls 💞 bc Dom winwin 😩

I love ur writing bby

“Our Little Adventure Backstage”

Hii bby here’s it for you!

58: You’re so wet

56: Moan Louder Baby

68: Here In Public?

Warnings:Smut,Public Sex/Semi?

A/N: Hii bbys! it’s been a long time since I last posted a request which I am sorry about huhu but well I would also like to inform you I will be pausing my Mark fic for a while and I will also take my time with my Jaehyun fic because I am having my finals these days but in exchange, I will make them long so please bear with me for a while💋

You were assigned to dress up one of the groups in sm entertainment Wayv for their upcoming album, you were of course ecstatic about the thought and you really tried your best to prepare for everything, once you were done with your sketch plan on how to dress them you were finally getting ready for the final approval of both the members and Lee Sooman. When you step inside sm entertainment’s office everything seemed fancy from the water to the offices and you thought that of course, the boss’s office will be fancier, you were being escorted to the office when you hear someone singing, he had a nice voice that’s really soothing in the ear so you decided to take a peak, you were met with a very handsome Winwin with a startled face and you sure fell hard at the sight of him but before he can even ask who you were the staff called for your attention, the meeting was short and it included with you needing to be present tomorrow to start the fitting, each member was really kind with you and with that, you adore them as it made the pressure for your work less.

Dressing them up was amazing, and you can’t deny that you mouth almost waters whenever you see their abs but your attention was mostly caught by Winwin ever since you first met him, whenever he walks up to you it would make you blush really hard that it makes you look like a high schooler, that action alone doesn’t go unnoticed by the members especially Ten who would often tease you about it saying “Oooh Y/N has fallen hard like a teenage kid” which would then be followed by several members, the latter would actually just give you a grin every single time or a seductive look, days pass by and it would always be the same old story not until one day, they were having a particular event in a open area that you had to be present again but that day was a Saturday and usually during those days you would attend blind dates or hang out with friends in bars, you also decided that you want to go straight to wherever you were going after work and just wore your outfit for those said events which was way skimpier than what you usually wear, you wore a red lace crop top and a black mini skirt but to look more appropriate for work you wore a black blazer on top, as you went to their tent to dress each of them up you were met with their seductive gazes and frequent checking you out glares but nothing expands more than that, but not with a particular guy of course his eyes were basically fucking you and each time you feel yourself wet just from the sight clenching for nothing even for him it was too much.

When most of the people left he suddenly grabbed you by the arm and said “I feel like there is something missing with my outfit can you come with me and check it” he directed to the changing room that was near the tent to which you gave a nod to.

Reaching the destination, you politely ask him “What, is the problem with your outfit did does it feel uncomfortable?” he shook his head and because of that you asked again “Then what is the problem?” he faces you and suddenly his hands snake up to your face down to your neck.

“You are the problem,” he said and it made you alarmed if something you did was wrong but you were also confused about his sudden skinship when you know he hates doing it “You’re outfit is the problem” it made your mouth open with confusion which made him seize the opportunity to give you a kiss that caught you off guard, you push him slightly but he just pushed you forward pining you in the table, the kiss was hungry and overall very lustful.

When you tried to breathe through the kiss you said “W-we can’t, you will have a performance in a while” but he shushes you inserting his thumb in your mouth giving you a sly smile as his other hand roams your body until he reaches a wet spot between your legs that makes you jolt and he whispers a low “I want you” to which your question “Here In public?” but he just continued which makes you lose your mind because you are fully aware of how wet you are.

“Do you really want me to stop?” he asks you knowing that you will eventually give him what he wants, so he rubs you in a few circles savoring your wet folds “You’re so wet” his words made you clench from nothing again“Do you really want me to stop, answer” he declares as he pushed one finger inside of you making you bite his thumb that was inserted inside your mouth.

“F-fuck n-no” you stutter as pleasure runs through your body, as if he was pleased with your answer he now grabs your hips up with his hand while the other pushing right into you with an extra finger now, he makes you a shaking mess pushing into you deeper every single time, the possibility of someone barging in never once crossed your minds and slowly you come undone, he doesn’t wait for you to recover as he bends you over the and with his action it made you fully aroused again.

As he unbuckles his belt he told you “As you said I have a performance, so let’s make it quick” you gave him a nod, he reaches for his pants but notice that he doesn’t have any condoms with him so he asked you “Are you on the pill?” you gave him a nod again but this time it seems like a needy nod, so without warning he slams in right inside you sharply that makes you yelp loudly and you urgently bit down your tongue, he continues slamming inside you deeper in every thrust but the pace going faster every time, the sensation taking a toll on both of you.

“Winwin” you shout in a moan and each time getting louder to which you notice that’s why you place your hand towards your mouth to which he removed placing it in your back as he rocks harder inside you.

“Moan Louder Baby” he urges you but you know you can’t because you were still in a public place, afraid that people will hear but he seems not bothered, he slaps you really hard repeating his command that you moan louder, the more you don’t obey he smacks you harder that’s why even if you did not want to you moaned louder for him earning sweet praises from him that makes you close to coming undone and you know he was close too as you feel him inside you that’s why he went faster and faster.

“I-I I’m cu-cuming” you said unable to say each word from too much pleasure, he rubbed your clit to stimulate you more, and not too long after you came undone but he continues to fuck you for a while before finally spilling white ribbons inside you.

“Fuck that was great” he declares while you were shaking as you tried to get up from the table “You should wear more outfits like that,” he said as he gave you a final peck in your cheeks before fixing his clothes together to look as if nothing happened and he went outside, you were confused with how quick his demeanor changes but it makes you smile bright at the same time.

After you also fixed yourself together you walked clamping your thighs shut because you feel his cum dripping and it would make more people notice that you just got fucked, to your surprise though you were welcomed with a Ten with a huge grin on his face and with that you know you were dead because someone heard of your little adventure with him.

#nct imagines #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct 127 #wayv imagines #wayv smut #wayv winwin #winwin smut #winwin x reader #dong sicheng #nct dong sicheng #neosmutcollective

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omg-imagine · 3 years

Text

Forget Me Not (Part 12/15)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: Kinda nervous posting again since it’s been a while, but we’re winding down to the end of this story with only three more parts to go (2 chapters + an epilogue). As always, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy!

Part 11

Home.

You are home. It’s supposed to be home.

But it wasn’t. To you, it couldn’t be.

This place feels too far from home, too foreign. You had no memories of it, no recollection of the safety and security it offers. Not even the faintest remembrance of the laughter, smiles, and tears; the fondness and the sadness these four walls have witnessed over the years.

You can’t call it home. You don’t know where home is, and you’re not sure you have one anymore.

Not after leaving him behind.

It’s cold and dark when you first wake, sleep weighing heavily in your eyes. A pair of curtains block out the sun from filtering into the room, leaving you to wonder if you had slept through half the day. With a yawn, you stretch, the bed underneath creaking as your body fully rouses from yet another night of fitful slumber. Almost a month back in New York, and it doesn’t make sense to keep blaming your lack of energy on the time difference.

The ache is still ever-present. The pain caused by the void in your heart remains, sharply throbbing in your chest with its refusal to go away. Two heartbreaks, two betrayals, occurring five years apart, but it feels as though not much time has passed in-between.

It hurts to ponder about it, that evening when your seemingly perfect little world came crashing down. Hiding behind rose-tinted glasses, you were unknowingly tricked, fully caught up in a well-crafted illusion. His illusion. Love has blinded you to the sad reality, and in the end, it left you a shattered mess, a hollow shell of your former self.

You doubt you’ll ever be whole again.

Forcing yourself out from under the covers, you reach for your phone on the nightstand to check the time before scrolling through your notifications. Nothing was of interest to you, fortunately; you didn’t have the energy to respond to those you suddenly abandoned. Friends who cared about you but realized you were never close to them. Not in the way it used to be.

As you skimmed over the new texts and emails, you then came across his now unsaved number. The moment you stepped on the plane, you deleted his contact from your phone and blocked him. Yet the last messages he sent to you were still there and haven’t been read since, though you already knew what they could entail—

I’m sorry.

It was never my intention to hurt you.

Please give me another chance.

Let me fix this.

Just come back, Y/N. Come back home.

Home. There was that damn word again. You were beginning to loathe it, even more so knowing that whenever you think of home, you wind up thinking of him.

The last time you saw him was the morning after the storm. Booking a one-way ticket back to the east coast, you then spent the early hours packing as many clothes that would fit in a single suitcase. Tears had long since dried up, having none left as you headed down the stairs, ignoring the look he gave you from afar.

He was dressed in the outfit he had on the night prior; his hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and it was quite obvious he endured no sleep. Your resolve nearly crumbles as your gazes connect, bodies close enough that he could reach out the slightest bit, and he’d be holding your hand in the palm of his.

Fighting the urge, you didn’t cave in. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for it—for him.

No, never again.

As expected, he followed you out of the house, remaining quiet as he watched the cab driver load your luggage in the trunk. You paid him no attention when he approached the vehicle once you climbed in, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare. With nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, you decided it was best to leave California, not that you belonged there anyway.

It played out like a scene from a movie—the taxi pulling out of the driveway slowly as the raindrops started to fall. Hearing him call out your name, his voice cracking with each syllable, made you hesitate for a beat. Perhaps you could forgive him, you had thought in that split-second. Forgive and forget; let what happened in the past stay in the past.

But even if you did, the pain’s still there, and it was overpowering. This pain resulting from his deception had been too consuming, too unbearable to move on.

You told the driver to hurry as you couldn’t afford to miss your flight.

The atmosphere in the car was fraught with grim silence. As the house sequestered in the hills vanishes in the rearview mirror, you knew you were running away from it all. You couldn’t stand being here in LA, where every turn, every corner, and every street reminds you of a life that wasn’t truly yours.

As idyllic it once was, you wanted no part of it anymore. Instead, you sought for familiarity, the life you used to have, the one you could only remember.

What you thought was your real home.

Unable to hold it in any longer, you had broken down in the backseat, never feeling more alone than you did at that moment.

You wish you could forget, but it’s not that easy. It’s never easy. Memories of him linger in your mind, still tragically fresh as they haunt you day in and day out. Closing your eyes, you could see him wearing this smile that used to make your stomach flutter. You came to love his smile the same way you had loved him wholly.

Now? Seeing it was a stab to the heart—a reminder of how he took advantage of your condition, your vulnerability. Of every lie you were fed. That smile, the one you previously hoped to wake up to for the rest of your life, had been an act, a facade.

Everything had been a facade.

A sudden knock on the door startles you, and you clicked off the phone screen before announcing to whoever that they could come in. Your mother Nancy enters soon after, her face displaying concern when she realizes you had just woken up. She’s silent as she walks towards the window and then pushes the curtains aside, the sunlight outside immediately washing over the room.

Briefly, you squint to adjust to the brightness, a confirmation that it was past noon already—another wasted day.

“Hey, darling,” she speaks softly as she moves to sit on the mattress beside you. “How are you doing?”

There’s no point in lying, but as much as you greatly appreciated her caringness, you didn’t want to burden her with your problems. They were yours to deal with and yours alone.

“Better.” And that, you were. Just a week ago, you finally stopped crying yourself to sleep. “I might even go out tomorrow and look for a job. Can’t keep freeloading under your roof, right?”

You release a half-chuckle, a small attempt to lighten up the mood. It was comforting when your mother cracks a smile in response.

“Oh, hush. You’re always welcome to stay as long as you need to,” she assures, a loving warmth radiating from her tone.

Lips pressing together, you sense that she has another thing to address. “What’s wrong?”

Nancy pauses to take a breath, shoulders rising and falling. For some reason, you’re on edge, finding yourself bracing for what was to come.

“Have you spoken to Keanu lately?”

Upon hearing his name, you swallowed away the lump in your throat. After telling your parents what had transpired, it stirred up various emotions—mainly anger from your father, sorrow from your mom. Their hearts sank as you recounted the story, tears blurring your eyes that you couldn’t see their faces. It was a good thing, however; you probably wouldn’t have reached the end.

Since then, they’ve refrained from speaking of him and to him. He’s called the house on a few occasions but could never get past the automated answering machine. Pictures of the two of you hanging on the walls were taken down shortly after the revelation, and you were unsure of who had done it.

Your parents still couldn’t believe he was capable of such a thing. He had played them the same way you were, twisting the truth and omitting facts. Painting himself in a way that made them think allowing you to stay with him was the best decision when just months before he treated you as if you didn’t matter.

As if he didn’t love you.

“No.” Curt, you had nothing else to say.

“He’s a persistent one, I’ll tell you that. Left another message last night,” Nancy comments, feeling her stare as you fiddled with the hands in your lap. The next time she speaks, it’s slow and controlled. She’s careful with her words, wary of how you would react to what she has to say. “Hon, the last time you were here, you told me something. Something that I probably should have mentioned the day you woke up in the hospital.”

You tense, eyes flickering up to hers. “What is it?”

She sighs deeply, her smile fleeting and replaced by a taut frown. “I knew you and Keanu were having… problems. Not the full story, but enough that told me you’ve been unhappy for a while.”

“W-Why didn’t you bring this up then?”

“Because the second I saw him in your hospital room, I could see how much he loves you. How scared he was at the thought of nearly losing you—”

“Pfft, sure he was,” you scoff at the statement in disbelief. “What he did—you don’t do that to someone you love. You don’t lie to them, betray them. Hell, if you had given me a heads up earlier, then it would have saved me all this trouble.”

“Y/N—”

“Don’t you get it? He’s an actor. Of course, he’s good at playing pretend. Got us all believing that things were all sunshine and rainbows. He fucked up and fucked up even more by lying. I’ve always had a bad track record in relationships, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised.”

Tension hangs thickly in the air, an apology murmured at the end of a passing second. You didn’t mean to snap at your mother, to let the anger and betrayal consume you that you began taking it out on others although unwillingly.

But you were just too goddamn hurt. Every day, the memories are suffocating you despite constantly wishing and pleading for them to disappear. That life, the one you had with Keanu, no longer exists, and yet you were still holding onto the frayed remains of it, not ready to move on—to let go.

You grieve. You grieve and mourn for the recent past, the happiness and love you experienced in the time you were left unaware. Never have you felt so complete, so content, and much at ease. You had turned a blind eye to the signs, to the small inklings of doubt brewing inside because you thought that there was no way you could get something else as close to this.

Perhaps you were both to blame after all.

“I thought he was different,” you whisper, sorrow flowing from your words. “I thought he was the one. The man I’d settle down with, marry, and then maybe someday, be the father of my kids. We’d build an entire life together, a family, a future. The kind of life where I could look back on it fifty years from now when we’re old and gray and not regret a single thing.”

Feeling your mother’s hand come on top of yours with a light squeeze, you fought off the tears forcing their way from your eyes. You swore you would never shed a tear for Keanu ever again, but you are crumbling from within. The weak walls you put up are now tumbling down, leaving you even more vulnerable than before.

“I want to hate him. I want him to feel my pain and suffer through it, knowing that he’s the reason why. But I can’t. Somehow, I just can’t.”

“It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him,” Nancy adds solemnly, and you nod shakily. “You’re healing, dear. So far, all you’ve done is put on a bandaid, but it doesn’t mean the wound closes up immediately. It’ll burn, it’ll bleed, and it’ll ache, and right now, that’s what you’re feeling; the pain of a fresh open wound.”

“Make the pain stop,” you mumbled incoherently as you lean against your mom’s side, wet cheeks pressed to her shoulder. “It has to stop.”

“And it will,” she promises, listening to your soft and tired cries. “It’ll take time for the wound to heal, but eventually, it will. Until then, life continues, and you would have to as well. You don’t have to go all-in right away, but don’t let this heartbreak hinder you from living, sweetie. You’re strong, and I believe you will feel that same happiness again, in one form or another. But you won’t find it unless you go out and look for it.”

For the first time in what seemed like a while, you felt something other than loss and despair. It creeps into you slowly, half-expecting a cold, crushing weight to fall heavily on your chest rather than the warmth and light it is. But as quickly as it came, the sensation subsides, a wave of loneliness, emptiness filling the vacant space surrounding your heart.

A shuddering breath released, you then reflect upon what your mother said about time and how time heals all wounds. You wonder how much time is needed until you can finally break free from the remnants of the past and breathe again. Could be days, weeks, or even months more, but it’s right there, waiting for you on the horizon.

You may not have a place to call home, but what you do have is time.

---

Seconds turn into minutes; minutes turn into hours. The sun sets, the moon rises; bright, blues skies bleed into a fiery red before dimming to an inky darkness. The world spins on its axis as people wake, move, then sleep, and the cycle begins all over again.

Two weeks have come and gone, and life pushes onward. You could tell by the scenery outside where the season of fall has taken charge of the Northeast. Days are shorter, with nights stretching out longer as the year fades into winter. Time was flying by at a brisk pace. Very soon, a blanket of snow will cover the ground you walk on, reminding you to take a step back and admire the natural beauty of mid-November.

The crispness of the late afternoon air is refreshing as it fills your lungs, a welcome change from the hazy summer heat. Leaves that were once lively shades of green are now painted in deep hues of amber and burgundy, and they crunch beneath your boots with each leisure step down the earthy path. The nearby lake is as pristine as ever, sparkling freely underneath the rays of the ochre sun as it waits for the impending frost.

Wandering about outdoors for hours now, you were lost in your stream of thoughts. You honestly felt better, not entirely mended, but just enough that you can step out of the house and explore the quaint little town. A picturesque place, it was a perfect settlement for your retired parents where everyone knew everybody; their faces, names, the street they lived on. Boilding down to more personal details such as knowing the pets they owned, which book club they’re a part of, and any recent travels.

When the townsfolk saw you, you sensed the feeling of familiarity. Those you passed by in the streets waved at you, and though you couldn’t exactly recall your relationship with them, it made you smile. Recently, old friends and family in the area had begun reaching out after hearing you were back. You never gave them the full explanation, only revealing that things in California did not work out, and you figured it was best to leave.

Was it a permanent decision? Most likely. Life here is simpler, quieter. You enjoyed the peacefulness, favoring the calm atmosphere of this town much over the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles. It gave you space to think, to focus, to breathe. To reacquaint with yourself, rebuild who you are as a person by taking this journey of self-discovery.

It’s the brand new start you desperately wanted, needed. An opportunity to find your place in this world without the past holding you back. Without the shadow of the woman you once were looming over you. And if your memories don’t ever return, which deep down, you hope they never would, you would be fine with it.

You were tired of being stuck searching pieces of the past. You had to live.

Trekking up the gravel road leading to your parents’ home, a black car sits on top of the hill, one that you did not recognize. Perplexed, you approached the house with hesitant steps, dragging your feet through the pile of dead and dry leaves. There was a moment of panic when you noticed a man sitting on the front porch steps, hands clasped on his knees as he hung his head low, a curtain of dark hair masking his identity.

But you don’t need to think twice, for you already know who it is.

“Keanu?”

His name slipping out of your mouth feels different now. Gone is the affectionate tone that it was usually spoken in. It held no meaning, void of any warmth or tenderness. Keanu, the name is bitter on your tongue, a poison that could cause you to spiral down yet again, and saying it out loud brought upon a rage that swirls through your veins.

How dare he show up here unannounced?

As you take your breaths, one… two… three... and out, Keanu straightens his posture and meets your stern glare. Slowly, he gets up, the expression on his face hard to read. But aside from that, he looked worse for wear. The bags underneath his eyes were dark and prominent, the beard on his chin was unruly and untamed. He appears gaunt and exhausted, as if he hasn’t slept a wink ever since you walked out of the door and out of his life.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You’re the first to break the thick silence, a testament of your bravery and strength of some sort. Brows furrowing and teeth gritting in anger, it contrasts with Keanu’s lax demeanor as he steps closer. “No, stay back. You have no right to be here right now.”

“Y/N, please...” He speaks calmly, each and every one of his movements measured. “I’m not here to fight—”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you seethed, shaking your head as you stormed past him and towards the door. Tears brew in your cloudy eyes, a sign of how much he still affected you. Seeing him again after all this time only proved that the wound he had inflicted bleeds to this day.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Keanu quickly trails from behind, his voice dripping with utter desperation. “Please, just… give me a chance to talk. All you have to do is listen, and I promise you won’t ever have to see me again.”

The seriousness in his timbre causes you to halt in your tracks. Swallowing dryly, you turn around, sad, tired eyes reaching his guilt-filled ones. Keanu stands before you with a face written in despair, making him barely recognizable. The way he’s staring at you as if he’s hopeless and in pure anguish is unsettling, and you almost pitied him for it.

“Y/N…” He pleads softly, defeatedly. “Hear me out, please.”

You wrestled between your options, half apathetic, half curious of what Keanu had to say. Unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, he mutely begs for you to relent, and if this is all it takes for him to leave you alone, leave you for good, then so be it.

“Ten minutes,” you muttered, low enough that he barely catches it at first. Crossing your arms against your chest, the gentle autumn wind rustling through the trees pierces the silent air as you observe Keanu staggering forward, a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, gazing at you with his searching brown eyes. “I-I know saying it a thousand times won’t make a difference, but I really am sorry. What I did before and after the accident was inexcusable and selfish. I hurt you, and I will never forgive myself that. Don’t expect you to do so, either. You probably hate my guts right now, and flying out here might be a mistake, but I needed to talk to you in person. To say goodbye one last time.”

Brushing his hair back, Keanu then pads over to the trunk of the car, and all you can do is wait for him to come back. It doesn’t take long, but he makes two trips to unload two boxes, setting each of them down in the space separating you two. He instantly notices the confusion etched across your features, burying his hands in his coat pocket with an exhale.

“Are those—”

“All the things you left behind,” Keanu finishes feebly. “Thought you would want them back.”

Stunned, a mirthless chuckle escapes your throat. “You didn’t have to do this. Those aren’t my things anyway.”

“But they are—”

“They’re not mine,” you cut him off with a weary gaze. “Keanu, I’ve said this before; I’m not the woman you fell in love with. Not anymore. Look, throughout those months we spent together, I tried to fit into this life everyone told me I had. A life that’s far from what I was used to. God, it feels like a dream being her. So confident, happy, and successful. Waking up from the coma, of course, I would want that. I had just gotten out of a terrible relationship which left me broken and unworthy of anything and anyone. Then you showed me the love I thought I didn’t deserve, and it kept me from realizing that it was all too good to be true.”

Eyes faltering to the ground, your fingers fumbled with the hem of your sweater, ultimately distracting yourself from the tears threatening to fall. “The truth is, I didn’t know you. You were, are, a stranger to me. You had done things behind my back, hid details that would have been a deal-breaker, but you didn’t care. I’ve thought about it a lot lately; would I have stayed if you told me from the very beginning. I wasn’t sure if I was madder at you kissing someone else, knowing how much it would hurt me, or the fact that you lied to fix this—us.”

There is a moment of silence that weighs over everything. The wind stops blowing; the leaves are motionless. Time seems to slow around you and Keanu as he waits for your next words. Words that you are still searching for since you hadn’t prepared to voice those thoughts out loud. They all came rushing, flooding like a broken dam, too overwhelming to keep at bay.

“Which one is it?” Keanu probes delicately, equally afraid of which answer you’re going to give.

“Neither,” you revealed, surprisingly. “I’m angrier at myself for falling too fast; for being the naive little girl who let herself be fooled, who refused to listen to her instincts even though she knew they were usually right.”

You see Keanu open his mouth to speak, but you weren’t done. “I always believed this accident was a curse. It erased years worth of memories that, at this point, I’ll never get back. But now, I see the good that came out of it. Our fights, our arguments, they were all signs that our relationship was falling apart, but I couldn’t let go of it—of you. I held onto us thinking the bad will just phase out eventually when in reality, I couldn’t bear giving up on you and this life we shared.”

Another pause. “Huh, funny. Looking at it, the same thing happened all over again.”

With that said, you felt relieved, somewhat lighter. Despite previous inclinations, you didn’t shout or yell at Keanu. Nor did you discuss to the fullest extent of the suffering you’ve endured. Strangely, it was nearly therapeutic admitting all of that to him, to yourself. For months, you had been unable to let go and accept the truth, allowing fear and doubt to control your actions.

But that was then, and this is now.

And now, it was time for you to be free.

“Guess this is it,” Keanu sighs dejectedly. He didn’t come here to win you back, knowing there’s nothing that he could do or say to repair the damage. Like you, he’s letting go, letting this be the closure he needs, and you need as well. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, “Guess this is goodbye.”

Before you could leave his sight to spare Keanu the awkwardness, he holds up a finger, signaling you to wait a second. Swiftly, he goes to retrieve something that’s lying on the front seat, something that you’ve spent countless hours flipping through. He then reluctantly passes it over to you, and you’re unsure what to do with it.

“Your pictures,” he points out, though you were already aware. “I’m not trying to be an asshole or anything by giving this, but this book is yours. Keep it, burn it, do whatever seems right to you. But I want you to know, to remember, that I did love you. I still do, and these photos are proof of it, even if you can’t bring yourself to believe that I’m telling the truth. You deserve love and to be loved, Y/N. More than anything in the universe. I fucked up my chance to be the one to tell you that every day, but it doesn’t mean the next person you fall for will.”

“Ke…” your voice suddenly breaks with emotion, uncertain of what to add after his statement. It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him, your mother’s earlier words echo in your mind, ringing true in your heart. Even after everything, a piece of you still loved Keanu, and saying goodbye to him more painful than you anticipated.

As you stand frozen, Keanu inches nearer until he’s by your feet, the palm of his hand coming to rest on your cheek. He strokes your face with a tender caress before tilting your chin upwards to meet his gaze, brushing his thumb along your lower lip gently. You allow him to have this moment, to hold you and study you for a final time, commit you to memory as this would be the last.

Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him press a soft kiss on your forehead, the warmth of it immediately spreading throughout your body before he slowly pulls away.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” Keanu says, opening the driver’s side door of his rental. You look at each other once more and see the subtle, hopeful smile he shoots your way. “And don’t be afraid to love again.”

You watch as he starts driving away, opting to wait until the car is finally out of view before releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

In your hands is a keepsake of your memories. A collection of captured moments that you had cherished so dearly. But things are different now; mistakes were made, words were said, people have grown apart. You found no reason to linger in the past when there’s nothing left to salvage.

Nothing left to do but heal.

The warmth of Keanu’s kiss eventually disappears, the world around you unpausing, continuing as it was before. You stay standing in place, glancing back and forth between the book you clutched on tightly and the boxes laying on the ground.

Yet in the quietude, the wind still blows. The leaves still fall, and the earth still spins.

Time resumes, bit by bit; passing for life to move forward—

For you to move on.

Part 13

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @toomanystoriessolittletime @awessomness @meetmeinthematinee @ringa-starr @ficsnroses @iworshipkeanureeves @keandrews @greenmanalishi @feminine-machinegun @thehumanistsdiary @lilyette @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @danceoftwowolves @ravenpuff02 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @breakthenight @allie1804-fan @partypoison00

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves

94 notes · View notes

jenoismydad · 4 years

Note

can you do a nsfw a to z for jeno please?

this was really fun to write! took me a while though

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Once you’re done fucking he’ll treat you like a princess. Helps you clean up and gets you a fresh pair of warm and comfortable clothes. Lets you snuggle up into him and fall asleep in his arms. Whispers gentle apologies in your ear while you doze off. The next day he’ll massage your thighs for you if they hurt too much (but honestly you’re so used to his brutality so they don’t hurt that often)

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jeno likes your tummy. He likes how smooth and soft the skin is. Never forgets to place a trail of kisses down the skin and suck dark marks into it for him to admire later. Even when you’re not having sex, his hand is always slipping under your shirt to rest on your tummy. For him, he takes pride in his arms. Mostly because you like them. Loves how you tightly grasp onto them while he’s ruthlessly pounding into you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

When it comes cumming, there’s two things that Jeno likes. Firstly, cumming inside of you. Sometimes he gets so lost in the feeling of your walls engulfing his walls that he doesn’t even realise he’s close until its too late. Buries his cum deep inside of you and sits back to watch it drip out of you. Other than that, Jeno likes cumming on your tummy. It’s his favourite part of your body and he likes how its slowly cascades down the expanse of your abdomen. Also likes how filthy you look with his cum all over you.

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

Jeno pockets your panties and keeps them as trophies. He keeps them hidden under his own underwear. Whenever you’re away from each other, he’ll pull one out and start reminiscing the sex you had that day. Like he associates each one of your panties with the sex you had the day you wore them. Usually gets him really horny so he ends up jerking off while replaying the sex in his head. You still don’t know where most of your underwear goes, so he makes sure to buy you new laces from time to time.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Whatever experience Jeno has, he’s gained from fucking you. Boy didn’t even know how to make out before he did it with you. As a teenager he’s jerked off to a lot of porn so he’d always try to replicate what he saw in that when you guys would initially fuck. But now he’s just so familiar with your body and how it reacts to him so he knows exactly how he needs to treat you.

F = Favourite Position (What positions you tend to use the most)

Basically anything where he’s doing most of the work. Something where he gets to pound into you without any obstructions. So that means either missionary or doggy. Pretty basic but he knows how to make the most of it. Doesn’t really let you ride him that much because its harder to fuck into you that way and you usually don’t scream when you’re on top.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Jeno is very serious. Sex is not a joke to him and the only sign of amusement he’s ever show is when you’re begging him to fuck you while he’s teasing the life out of you. Finds it cute when you’re being needy but he’d never tell you that. He’s just super commanding during sex and like i’ve said in other posts, he’s not evil, he’s charismatic.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they)

Clean shaven lmao. He just doesn’t like to keep hair down there because he finds it annoying to maintain. Doesn’t mind if his partner has hair though. Just finds it more convenient when he has no hair. Shaves it regularly so that there’s no ‘stubble’ (idk what you’d call it sry)

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Very intimate. Even though he’s drilling into you, he’s doing it to show you how good he wants to make you feel. Eye contact is a very crucial thing to him although sometimes he’ll let you off the hook because he knows its hard to keep your eyes open when he’s fucking you so good. You guys do make love, in the morning mostly because the mood’s all lovey dovey, but he ends up finding it kinda hard to control himself and ends up slamming into you.

J = Jack Off (How often do they tend to masturbate)

Before he met you, every single day. Don’t judge him. He was a horny teenager. But now that he has you, whenever he’s horny he just asks you to either suck him off or let him fuck you, which you always comply because you can’t resist. Only jerks off when there’s no possible way for you both to get together.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Choking, overstimulation and slight visual sensory deprivation. All giving though. In terms of receiving he has a very subtle pain kink. very subtle.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The bed. Again, this boy hates any sort of obstacle or interruption while he’s having his dirty time so he likes to take it to the bedroom. Even if it starts outside of the bedroom, he’ll always find a way to get there. But for the few instances that he’s too riled up to make it to the bed, he doesn’t mind fucking you senseless right then and there. You guys do it in the kitchen occasionally though, mostly when you’re sure that it's just you two.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You wearing revealing clothes. Its dumb and immature, he knows. But whenever you’re showing a bit too much skin or your dress rides up, something like that, Jeno can’t seem to hold it in. Also when you both are arguing. Jeno just thinks you look really hot when you’re mad because you get really bitchy, different from your usual self and it riles him up. He can’t help put pin you to the wall and set you straight.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Spanking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, and anything that has to do with inflicting pain on you. Jeno’s is very uncomfortable with people watching him have sex or do anything sexually pleasing to him. That’s why he makes your sex life very private. Also he’s just very scared to hurt you so chocking is farthest he’d go. Nothing beyond that.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Loves fingering you. Prefers it over eating you out because he gets to see your face screw up in pleasure. When he’s eating you out all he can see is the rise and fall of your chest, that why he isn’t so keen on doing it, but he will if you want him to. Isn’t too big on receiving because he’s just so fixed on pleasing you. But he doesn’t mind when you ask to give him head. Just not all the time or only when he can’t fuck you and he’s in the mood.

P = Pace (How fast do they go)

Pretty fast but likes to go more hard than quick. That’s why he likes ‘pounding’ into you. Is very rough with it, almost animalistic. It doesn’t matter if you start out nice and slow with a fluffy mood because he always gets fed up with the lack of pleasure and ends up slamming into you. Whenever he’s fucking you it feels like he’s always trying to chase both your highs but you don’t mind because you enjoy the roughness more than you’ll admit.

Q = Quickie (Do they prefer proper sex over quickies and how often does it happen)

Not that rare actually. Sometimes Jeno will just be in the mood but too lazy to fuck properly so he’ll pull you to the side, pull your pants down and fuck you till he came. Don’t worry, he never lets you hanging. In case you don’t cum before he does, he’ll always finger you till you finish. Of course he prefers proper sex but some days he’s just way too horny to do it all.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Unless you want to try something, Jeno isn’t that outgoing in bed. He knows what you like and don’t like as well as what your limits are and he’d only ever push around the borders.You once told Jeno you wanted him to fuck you in the shower and he did but it never happened again because he hated the way his top priority had to be preventing you from slipping instead of making you cum.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Has a life long supply of stamina and can usually go two rounds without feeling overly sensitive. But he’ll usually only go as long as you can manage to go since he doesn’t think there’s a point in going on with you half dead. Lasts a pretty long time as well. Even if he starts before you he usually cuts after you or with you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any toys. I mean, why should he when he has you? Finds toys awkward and just can’t see himself using them. He knows that you own a vibrator though and he knows you use it sometimes but he’d never use it while you both are having sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

It depends from time to time. Somedays it’s more than the other. Mostly teases you when you’re the one to initiate the sex. Likes it when you beg for him to touch you and fuck you so he’ll only rile you up till you’re on breaking point before giving in to your pleads. Teases you a lot verbally while he’s fucking you. “Do you want me to go slower. I think you’re really liking it slow. No? Faster? Sorry but you’re gonna have to beg for it.” Things like that.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Raspy grunts and low groans when he’s close otherwise he’s silent. Since he spends most of his time dirty talking, teasing you and getting reactions out of you, he chooses not to be too loud. It’s not that he finds his moans embarrassing or anything. He’ll occasionally let one out while your riding him or giving him head to let you know that you’re doing good. Hot is the only way to describe his moans.

W = Wild Card (something random)

One day you woke up super early cause Jeno’s morning wood was poking your thigh and so you sucked him off and rode him. Ever since then Jeno’s aways wanted to fuck you in your sleep but the problem is that you’re a very light sleeper.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His dick isn’t be big or thick, but more or so on the long side. Like Jeno’s body isn’t really that bulky, its more slender and sculpted and so his dick would also kinda be the same. Has some nice views running through it though.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s decreased over the years but it’s still pretty up there. Jeno gets horny pretty quick by the most basic things. You guys fuck probably every two to three days or so. Just a lot of sex.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You guys don’t always fuck in the night so sex generally doesn’t tire him out as much as it tires you out. (Probably because he’s not the one getting fucked dumb.) But he’ll usually fall asleep after you do, a good 15 to 30 minutes after you’ve fucked.

#asks #answered #requested #nct #nct smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #jeno #jeno smut

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spicyfoodboi · 4 years

Note

Hey, I know your requests are always open and I kinda wanna request something. It's gonna be vaguely angsty though. So I'm (usually) a silent crier and I almost always only let myself cry when people aren't around. So I was wondering you could maybe write a hurt/comfort type scenario like that with either Shinsou, Todoroki, or Amajiki. It's okay if you don't get to it or don't have inspiration for it or something. I just figured I'd ask just in case you did.

aching silence

Genre: comfort

Warning: mentions of insecurities present (in Amajiki's part)

A Hitoshi Shinso, Tamaki Amajiki, and Shoto Todoroki x reader

a/n: hey guys! Like I said in my last post that I'm gonna experiment with tags so if you see them in different tags or I add more or if there are only 5 in the first hour, that's why. Requests are open so please don't be shy in requesting anything! Let's get on with it.

Hitoshi Shinso

He was out for the day with his new class 1-A friends.

You weren't around with him a lot recently.

You made yourself think that it was okay never to be a burden since you were little.

You kept your problems under lock and key, making sure that you don't bother anyone with your problems.

That includes your boyfriend, Shinso.

He told you before that he doesn't mind to share your burdens with you.

But you couldn't believe that for a second.

You thought that the second that you tell him everything that's been bothering you, he would push you away and leave you in the dust.

You didn't want that.

Now here you are, in the corner in the bedroom, a spot covered in darkness, you were sure if he does come home that he would never find you.

You held your knees up to your chest, nuzzling your face into them to wipe your tears away.

You must've been sitting in the dark for a hours but it felt like only a few minutes.

A few minutes of darkness was supposed to be enough.

You hear the front door open and the muffled voice of the purple-haired boy calling for you echoing around the seemingly empty house.

The voice made you tense up, pushing yourself up closer to the wall if that was even possible.

You hear the creaking of the bedroom door and you can just feel the pair of eyes scanning the bedroom, seeing the messy bed and the cluttered pillows.

Shinso walked into the room to pick up the pillows to see something move in the shrouded darkness in the corner of the space.

He walked over and crouched down in front of your figure, taking in your expression, how heartbroken you looked, how you shook in your position like an unbearable cold was upon you.

How you have every single problem swimming in your (e/c) eyes.

Without a word, he wraps you in his arms, feeling you finally breakdown in his hold.

"kitten, you don’t have to hide anything from me. I'll be here to support you when you need it," he said, kissing your temple.

Both of you didn't let go of each other for a while.

Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki had a lot to deal with, You knew that for a fact.

So you didn't bother him with your problems and insecurities much.

He was out on patrol with Fatgum and Kirishima so you decided it's finally time to let all the tears go.

You walked in front of the bathroom mirror to see your face and your body.

You felt disgusted.

Every time you saw your body, all your thoughts go to how you spill out every time you wear tight clothes, how your face would only look presentable enough when you wear cakes of makeup on your face.

How you feel like everything you do is useless, all the diets and skincare routines, gone in a blink of an eye.

Tears were streaming on your face as you glared at every single flaw you had, that maybe when you look at them, they might disappear.

Those flaws might flawlessly fix itself.

You tried to wipe your tears over and over to no avail. You didn't hear keys unlocking the front door, sun-eater going from room to room looking for you.

You hear his stuttering and worried voice getting closer and closer, making you panic.

You didn't want him to see you like this.

You closed the lights and crawl into the cold bathtub, hoping that if you fold in on yourself that maybe he wouldn't see you.

He could never be more wrong.

"s-sunflower?" Tamaki called out, his voice bouncing off the tiled bathroom.

You look overseeing his silhouette by the door.

You see his expression when he spots you, a look of concern on his features as he shuffled over to you then kneeling in front of you.

"sunflower… i-If you want to be alone, y-you can tell me… p-please tell me everything. A-all of your problems and a-all of your i-insecurities. W-we'll work o-on this t-together. Got it?" the indigo-haired boy said, shakily placing his hand on the back of your neck and pressing his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

A small giggle escaped your lips before nodding your head, letting the normally anxious boy pull you into a soft kiss.

Shoto Todoroki

You couldn't breathe.

It was like something was suffocating you, crushing your chest, taking the air out of your lungs.

The darkness swirled around and around, surrounding you like fog, getting into your throat and choking you.

The fog that was stuck in your throat was making it hard to let out a sob.

It kept coming and coming, covering your vision, making sure you see pitch black until-

You woke up, jolting out of your once comfortable position, now turned an intolerable sight, seeing the sweat on the sheets.

You look over, seeing your boyfriend, Shoto sleeping soundly beside you, his hands still wrapped around your hips.

He was a pro-hero, he didn't get enough sleep as it is.

He takes the night shifts to spend more time in the morning with you but it usually backfires since he just sleeps well through the afternoon.

you negotiated with him to take the morning shifts but that didn't stop him to work well past midnight to finish everything.

This was the first night in a long while that he could finally sleep in peace.

You shouldn't wake him up because of some stupid nightmare.

You tried to gasp in some air but it was no use.

the first silent sob came out, tears flowing down your cheeks ad you tried over and over to breathe in then breathe out.

Just breathe in, breathe out

Just-

You felt a hand rubbing the small of your back, you looked beside you to see a concerned Todoroki looking over you.

Was he talking? You couldn't tell, when did your ears start ringing, you don't remember.

All you remember was him pulling you into his embrace, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

You smiled, letting these final words drift you back to sleep.

"my love, I know you don't want to share everything, just know that I am here for you. For every sob, or every tear. I will always be here. I love you."

This was long af but I finally got through them. Once again, tags will be very inconsistent so please bear with me! Once again, requests are open so please don't be shy to request anything! Hope these made you feel better anon! Love you guys ❤💖💕💞

#bea's requests #bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader

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jincherie · 4 years

Text

4 o’clock | 03

✩ — pairing: taehyung x reader ✩ — genre: hybrid au, single dad au, light angst, fluff ✩ — rating: sfw ✩ — words: 5.5k+ ✩ — warnings: slight angst ✩ — notes: another impulse update while the inspiration was ripe!! I hope u enjoy it :3 I’ll go over it and fix any mistakes with tense and grammar tomorrow either before or after work, so sorry for those in the meantime! i haven’t written in past tense in a while lol

— prompt: “Why are you crying, It’s only you and me here, Me and you, Oh you”

Even if it weren’t for the two twins that had endeared you so, you were sure you would have eventually been drawn to the beautiful soul of Kim Taehyung, like a planet to its star.

— masterlist || 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 — posted; 14.03.2020

“Ah— no— Haru! Don’t touch that please!”

You sat back, content to watch the chaos as it unfolded; Seokjin had sent you some small reports to write and you were making the most of the moment and finishing them while Jungkook and Namjoon helped watch the twins. It was nearing eight o’clock and the cafe had long since closed, the lights dimmed but still on— Namjoon had been counting the tills in peace until the two hybrid twins had grown curious about what was happening on the other side of the counter and darted around to investigate. Jungkook snickered at the scene as he swept the floors, not being shy about his laughter since Namjoon was too caught up to reprimand him right now.

Ordinarily, you didn’t babysit the twins at the cafe— but you’d brought them to get a hot chocolate since the weather was getting cooler and they’d been behaving so well lately you wanted to give them a treat. You’d already texted Taehyung to ask if they were allowed it, and he’d told you yes. The twins had been ecstatic the second you told them where you were going and why. Apparently they were big fans of Uncle Joon and Uncle Koo, despite spending a majority of their time with you these days.

“But Uncle Joon!” Haru whined, big eyes pointed right at the poor male in question. You did feel a little bad for him; he was just trying to count the tills and finish closing after all. “Wanna help!”

“Yeah!” Hansol chorused, popping up from behind his sister. “Wanna help!”

Namjoon seemed like he was absolutely lost for how to handle the situation, standing crowded with the tills held to his chest, and when he finally caved and sent a pleading look your way you couldn’t help but chuckle. You supposed you could put him out of his misery.

“Hey, cutie cubs! I have something over here that I really, really need your help with! Could you come help me?”

Of course, the answer was yes. At the opportunity to help one of their favourite people ever, their eyes lit up and you stifled a laugh as their tails flicked and whipped excitedly. They were scrambling around the counter within seconds, big eyes directed at you now as they clung to the leg closest to them.

“Yeah, y/n?” Hansol inquired, patting your thigh excitedly. “Need help?”

“I absolutely do!” you confessed dramatically, leaning closer. “It’s something only you two can do.”

They almost vibrated in their excitement, making you think maybe there was a little too much sugar in those hot chocolates. They leaned in closer, Haru whispering with wide eyes, “What is it?”

“Well,” you started, pulling out two pieces of blank paper. “I have something important I’m writing for one of my jobs, and it needs some pictures… but I don’t have any! Do you think you could draw me some pictures to send with it? I don’t know anyone who can do it as well as you…”

The twins gasped, sold immediately on the idea. You’d learned very quickly that of all their hobbies and things they like to do, anything to do with painting, drawing, and colouring— they liked that the most. Eagerly, they climbed onto the free seats at the table where you were perched, looking at you obediently and patiently. Their ears betrayed their excitement though, flicking and twitching restlessly. You passed them a piece of paper each and let them choose one of the markers from your pencil case. Haru chose blue, while her brother went for a light green.

“What do we draw?” she asked after a moment, marker looking very oversized in her tiny hand. To her credit, she had it in an expert grip.

“Anything you want,” you answered immediately, unable to help but laugh at their excited gasps.

“Weally?!” In his glee Hansol’s ‘r’ glided into a ‘w’ sound even more than usual and you almost clutched your chest in fear that you had a literal heart attack. They’re so cute, they’re so cute it’s over for me!

“Yup!” you nodded, waving your hand for them to go ahead and do whatever they want. They didn’t need to be told twice; they launched into their efforts, markers meeting paper eagerly. You could have sat and watched them all night, so endeared by the way their tongues stuck out in concentration and their ears flicked every so often. Unfortunately, you still had a report to finish and so begrudgingly you returned to that as they scribbled artfully across the pages, having granted Namjoon time to escape to the staff room and for Jungkook to grab the mop and bucket and begin sanitising the floor.

Like that, the cafe settled into a nice ambiance— the radio still played soft tunes across the store and the only out of place noises came when one of the twins dropped a marker or Jungkook bumped into a table or chair due to his shapely rump.

It lasted a good five minutes, and you suspected it would have lasted longer if Namjoon’s phone didn’t start ringing on the counter. The twins barely spared it a glance before returning to their works— man, you chose the distraction well, huh. There was the slight sound of cluttering and something falling in the direction of the backroom before Namjoon emerged with tousled hair and wide eyes, a note sticking to his cheek as he looked around hurriedly for his phone.

“Who on earth…” he muttered to himself as he searched; you pointed to your cheek when he caught your eye and he reached up to remove the note, appearing sheepish. It didn’t take him long to find the phone after that, hurrying to pick it up before passing it over to you on the bench. “Y/n, can you answer that? I think I flicked a coin in the sink and I don’t know if it went down the drain or not— thanks!”

Bewildered, you hurriedly scrambled to the counter, grabbing his phone and seeing that he’d already answered the call and just left it running. You didn’t have time to see who was on the other end before you brought it to your ear, not wanting to leave them hanging any longer than they already had been.

“Hello?” you said, sounding somewhat hesitant. Any caution you might have had was quickly thrown to the wind when a familiar dulcet tone greeted you from the other end, though.

“Wh— y/n?” Taehyung sounded surprised to hear your voice, and you didn’t blame him considering he’d called Namjoon’s phone. “Uh, hello. But, um… why…”

“Hey, Mr. Kim!” The change in your attitude was instant, something fluttering in your abdomen at the knowledge of who you were talking to. “Sorry to surprise you, but Namjoon is counting the tills and kind of dumped his phone on me. Is everything okay? Did you want to talk to the twins?”

Taehyung made a sound of understanding before hurrying to reassure you, “Ah, no! No, that’s okay, I’ll see them soon anyway. Um, I was actually calling because…”

He faded off for a moment, an awkward tone slipping into his voice when he resumed. “Um, all the buses near my work were cancelled because of maintenance or something and, um… I don’t really have a way to get home… so I was just…”

It took barely a second for you to realise what he was getting at. “Ah, you need someone to pick you up? No problem! I’m with the twins at the cafe right now, so I can come pick you up while Joon and Jungkook watch them for a few minutes if you’d like!”

The hybrid on the other end seemed flustered at your easy agreement and instant offer.

“I, um… that’s fine, if that’s not too much trouble? I’m sorry to be bothering you— I’ll pay y—”

“Nope, it’s okay!” you were quick to reassure him, making sure he knew that you didn’t expect compensation just for being a decent person. “Don’t even think of paying me extra, I don’t mind at all! Just text me the address and I’ll be there as soon as possible!”

The line was silent for a few moments before Taehyung spoke once more, sounding slightly choked up. “Thank you, y/n.”

“No problem,” you assured, saying goodbye before hanging up and placing Namjoon’s phone down. A few moments later your own buzzed in your pocket, most likely with the address you’d requested.

Ducking into the backroom, you let Namjoon know what the call was about and he easily agreed to watch the kids while you went to pick up their dad. Once you secured his blessing, you returned to the main area to see Jungkook currently being subjected to the twins and their marker, scribbles and drawings beginning to make their ways up his forearms. Hansol had managed to land the arm that already had some tattoos on it and was having the time of his life colouring them in. As soon as he saw you, he pointed excitedly, “Look, y/n! Uncle Koo’s a colouring book!”

The male in question seemed absolutely endeared by the twins and of course easily agreed to continue watching them while you went to pick up Taehyung. The twins were excited to see their dad again soon and so let you go in peace when you told them what was happening.

Fifteen minutes later found you on the road and nearing the destination that Taehyung had texted you. Apparently it wasn’t at his actual workplace, since there weren’t any bus stops there and he usually had to walk twenty minutes to the nearest one, but it was still in the general area. You were thankful that you’d driven the twins to the cafe instead of walking earlier, since it meant your car was already outside and waiting. You were also thankful one of your friends had bullied you into cleaning it the other day because you knew you’d be embarrassed as hell if Taehyung climbed in and found all the bueno bar wrappers that had been on the floor of the passenger side. What could you say? You had an addiction.

As the GPS on your phone told you that you were growing closer, you began to scan the streets for the golden-haired male in question. It didn’t take you long to spot him, because even in the dark he stood out as a spot of beauty in his surroundings, hair gleaming flaxen in the streetlights. He was only in a white button-down and slacks, but still he looked incredibly good. Honestly, if you saw an image of him you would have sworn up and down that he was a model. The flick of his ears as you neared the curb where he stood told you that he’d heard you from afar, but he waited until you were alongside him to shoot you a sheepish smile.

He was somewhat shy as he climbed in, tentative in his movements as he placed his bag down by his feet and shut the door, resting his hands in his lap. “Thank you,” he murmured again, low tone making your heart skip a beat. What was it about him that seemed to make you so… giddy?

“It’s not a problem!” you assured him again, making sure he caught your smile before you set the destination in your phone and turned to the road; you knew vaguely where you were, but you didn’t travel often to this part of town so you’d need a little bit of guidance to get back to Namjoon’s cafe. It was too dark to tell for sure, but you could have sworn the hybrid’s cheeks flushed slightly.

You didn’t think that the silence would have been all that awkward, but you didn’t want to really risk it—there was still a bit of distance between the two of you, understandably. He was basically your employer right now. But you couldn’t deny the urge sparking to life deep inside you that pushed you to get a bit closer to him. Inexplicably, it was something you wanted.

“When I left, the twins were having the time of their lives,” you informed him, unable to keep the smile from your voice. Your eyes were on the road but you caught his head lifting in your peripheral. “Originally I had them drawing something on paper, but when I came back they’d turned Jungkook into a canvas and discovered his tattoos. I think they were overjoyed to have a living colouring book.”

At your words, Taehyung couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from his throat at his kids’ antics. “They love colouring,” he murmured in response, letting his head fall back against the headrest. Your brief glance over reveals his form, slumped slightly and wrought with exhaustion. A shard of concern wriggles its way into your chest, unsettling you slightly. Was he eating enough? Sleeping enough? You felt so bad for him that you wished you could lift every single worry from his shoulders and give the world to him on a silver platter. His twins deserved it, and so did he. You weren’t sure exactly when, in the past month or so of looking after his kids, that such feelings had had time to bloom, but they had. “I wish I could get them more things, since they go through materials so fast, but… paints are getting more and more expensive these days.”

You hummed, trying not to let the sadness currently permeating your chest to show on your face. “That’s true,” you responded softly. “I imagine they’d go through paints and markers faster than you can blink.”

Taehyung chuckled, the sound soft and low, eyes closed as he sank into the seat. “Yep. I have boxes full of drawings at home. They refuse to part with any of them.”

It was your turn to laugh now, able to imagine it all too easily. “I think they’d never talk to me again if I ever lost the ones they gave me.”

Soft melodies drifted through the car as you drove, your phone’s playlist still on the one you used to lull the twins to sleep. Endearingly enough, it seemed to be working wonders for their father, too. Every time you glimpsed over, it seemed like he was that bit closer to completely dozing off next to you. You were sure he’d be embarrassed about it later, but you honestly didn’t mind. It relieved you a bit to know he was getting at least a little bit of rest.

Well, he was until a low, rumbling sound echoed in the small space. You bit your lip to contain the laugh that attempted to bubble in your throat, but were unable to help the glance you gave to the side. Taehyung looked mortified, gaze averted out the window and cheeks red as his hand rested over his stomach, as though to muffle it should it make any further incriminating noises. His tail curled beside him in embarrassment.

“Well, I suppose that’s good timing,” you said, unable to keep the smile from your voice. “Are you in the mood for a noodle dish or something soupy? Or rice? I was gonna stop by somewhere and grab something for dinner anyway.”

Taehyung’s hands quickly rose, waving awkwardly. “Oh, no, it’s okay— we can just—”

You hummed, pinning him with a look as the car drew to a stop at a set of traffic lights. “Have you eaten today?”

He might have been embarrassed, but you could tell he wouldn’t be able to lie to you. You were proven right when he simply blushed, averting his gaze with his ears angling down.

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching to pat his leg before you had to return your hand to the gearstick. “I haven’t had dinner yet either, and we can grab something to take back for the twins too! Is there anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”

Perhaps it was the hunger, but he didn’t take long to give in and acquiesce to your gentle nudging. His voice was soft when it brushed your ears in response. “I don’t mind, anywhere is good.”

You pondered his words for a moment before speaking what came to mind, “I think I know a place that you’ll like.”

— x — x —

“Woah.”

You smiled at the wonderment in Taehyung’s voice, glancing over to see him looking around in awe. You’d decided to take him to your favourite fusion restaurant, since you remembered that they actually made that dish that he liked— japchae?— and it seemed you’d made the right choice. The restaurant was underground, and the ceiling sprinkled with woven trains of fairy lights. The walls of booths and along the tables were somewhat porus and absolutely covered in layers upon layers of scribbles and drawings from people who had visited over the years. A bowl of markers rested by the door and you were sure to grab one on the way past.

One of the table staff saw you and grinned, making her way over immediately. Her gaze didn’t even linger on Taehyung as it swept over him, something you appreciated.

“Y/n!” she burst, moving forward to bring you in for a quick hug. “It’s been a while! I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing slightly. “It’s only been like, a week, Jihyo. What, you weren’t there when I ordered last time?”

“I had placement,” she said, sighing dramatically. “We can’t all finish the semester on time, y/n.”

You laughed in response, and the brunette was quick to get back on track. “Table for two? In the usual spot?”

“Yes please!” you answered with a smile, feeling Taehyung shift in confusion behind you. You wonder if he thought that you were only coming for take away. Originally you were, but as you entered the restaurant you’d read a text from Jungkook saying that they’d taken to twins back to your house, so you felt less pressed to get there sooner.

The two of you follow Jihyo towards the back of the establishment, taking a seat when she gestures to do so in the booth furthest from the front and closer to the kitchens. She left you with menus and told you to press the button when you were ready to order.

“We’re eating here?”

You looked up to catch Taehyung’s gaze, and the expression you find there wasn’t upset or antsy, more confused. It occurred to you a moment later that maybe you should have asked for his opinion before deciding all on your own.

“Oh… Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Your cheeks heated in embarrassment at your own audacity. “I should have asked you— I just got a text from Jungkook saying they took the twins to my place so I figured we didn’t have to rush and could relax a bit. Would you like to get takeaway instead…?”

At your explanation, the male relaxed in his seat, shoulders releasing the small amount of tension they’d held. “No, it’s okay. And you can call me Taehyung, you know. I don’t think you’re that much younger than me, actually.”

Your head tilted in surprise as your hands opened the menu automatically. “Wait, how old are you?”

Taehyung hummed, opening his own menu and looking down, visibly growing happier at the sight of some of the dishes. “Twenty-four,” he answered distractedly, finger trailing over number 37 on the menu. “Are the pancakes good? I wonder if the twins would like them…”

It took all your willpower to snap your mouth closed and swallow your shock— twenty-four?! That’s so young! It wasn’t like he looked old, but to have kids… you thought that he was late-twenties or early-thirties and had just aged really well. You were left reeling at the fact he really wasn’t all that much older than you at all.

It made you even sadder, actually, as you realised that he must have been only twenty-one or so when the twins had first come into his life. It can’t have been easy, especially if the situation was as you suspected with the twins’ mother.

“Wow, you’re young,” you couldn’t stop it from rolling off your tongue, and coughed before continuing, ignoring his amused look. “And they are! I like both the spring onion and the kimchi one. For the twins though, they might like the spring onion one better. I’ll get some to take back to them so they can try it, actually. Maybe some of the chicken too… I’m craving chicken.”

You’d started off talking directly to him, but as you went on you had ended up talking more to yourself. You missed the soft smile that Taehyung sent your way. It was silent as the two of you ruminated over what to order, and neither of you spoke until it was time to order and the waitress (not Jihyo this time, unfortunately) was walking away with your meal ticket and the menus.

“Thank you.”

It caught you by surprise, his sudden words. You looked to him with wide eyes, mid-sip of your water, and blinked in confusion. He chuckled at the sight you presented before leaning back in the booth, taking the permanent marker into his grasp and fiddling with it between his fingers. You continued your sip, waiting for him to continue in his own time. You didn’t have to wait too long.

“For caring so much about Hansol and Haru,” he explained, eyes flicking to the side before rising to meet yours. His ears were lowered slightly, bashful, as he continued. “It means a lot to me, and I know that it means a lot to them. They…”

He cleared his throat, reaching for his own cup of water. He still looked exhausted, but the smell of food in the air had livened him considerably since you entered. “They’ve never really said anything, or asked about their mother, and I don’t know for sure whether they have put you in that role… but I’m glad they have someone else that they can trust and feel safe with. I know whenever I leave them with you that they’ll be okay, and I don’t have to worry, because you always spoil them and they’re always happy. So thank you, for that.”

You blinked, surprised at the sudden sting to your eyes. Flustered, you waved your hand at him, blinking rapidly to ward away the tears. “You should warn a girl before you spring something heartfelt like that on her, Mr. K— Taehyung. I might cry and then our food will be ruined.”

He was still for a second before your words sank in and he laughed, tipping his head back from the body of it. It was a joyous sound, and it made your heart sing to hear it— after the mushy way his earlier words had made you feel, you didn’t know if you were in a good place to handle it. You waited until he calmed to continue, wanting to respond properly now your thoughts were in order.

“But you’re more than welcome, you know.” His eyes met yours as you spoke, fingers fiddling with the marker. “Those two are so beautiful, Taehyung. I can see you give them everything and they really deserve it. I’ll have you know that if I could and they asked for it, I’d climb up and pluck every star out of the sky just for them. Everything I do for them is really the least I can do. I’ll always care for those two, even if you were to move away and forget all about me.”

He snorted at that last part, but you could tell he was touched from the tender look in his eyes. “Don’t worry, that’s not happening any time soon.“

A few moments of silence followed his words, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and it was soon broken by the arrival of some of your meal. Your mouth started salivating the second your plate touched the table, but you held off until you asked the waitress for some plastic containers and she brought them back for you. Once you’d put some of the food aside for the twins, you happily dug in to the meat dish you’d ordered.

You didn’t catch Taehyung’s fond look as you put some food aside, but you did hear it when, moments later, he let out a soft sound that echoed surprisingly like a moan. Your head shot up and he blushed bright red, cheeks so full of food he looked more like a chipmunk than a lion. He chewed and swallowed the majority of it down before offering a sheepish explanation, “Sorry, it just tastes so good… it’s been so long since I had bulgogi.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, almost choking on your own mouthful. You didn’t say anything though, mind wandering to other things— namely, the mention of the twins mother. You wanted to know so badly what the situation was, but you were also painfully aware it was absolutely not your place to ask. But at the same time, the twins were young, and what were you meant to do if they ask difficult questions about their mother as children tend to do? You were torn, but you didn’t realise the extent to which your thoughts were playing across your face.

“You want to know about their mother.”

Freezing, you shot him a guilty look, mouth full of spring onion pancake. You feared that you’d look over and see an upset expression on his handsome face, but it was surprisingly neutral— if anything, he seemed amused at the mess you were making as you struggled to keep the food in your mouth.

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, taking a bite of his meal and humming at the flavour. “It’s only natural to wonder since you haven’t seen her. It’s not hard to tell that she’s not around.”

You finally managed to swallow the entire contents in your mouth, shooting him a look of apology. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything if it’s painful…”

The hybrid shrugged, pushing the food in his bowl around with his chopsticks. “It’s okay. It’s been three years, the wound is old…” He picked out a piece of beef, munching it before continuing. “Their mother was another lion hybrid— I met her in an adoption shelter we’d both ended up in until we were of the legal age that we could leave. She was my first love. I thought the world of her. It wasn’t planned, when she got pregnant. She didn’t really want the a baby but, well… you know how it is.”

Something sharp stabbed in your chest at his words, your expression softening. Hybrids still faced a lot of discrimination in more ways than one, and they didn’t have access to all the same types of resources that humans often took for granted. So if she’d wanted to abort the pregnancy, you doubt she would have been able to…Taehyung cleared his throat, continuing.

“When she became pregnant, and after she had the twins, it became clear that she wasn’t really the woman I fell in love with… When I saw those two, my beautiful little cubs, and held them in my arms— I knew I would love them for the rest of my life. But she… it wasn’t a sentiment we shared. She grew cold and fought with me, saying I’d ruined her life. And then one day she left, before they’d even been weened. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.”

“I’m so sorry…” it was all you could think to say, your heart aching for him. You couldn’t imagine the amount of betrayal that must have felt like, the hurt that would have resulted. And on top of it, how difficult it must have been to be on his own from the very beginning.

He wrinkled his nose, sniffling slightly before shooting you a reassuring look. He waved his hand through the air, returning to the meal more heartily. “Don’t be— like I said, the wound is old. Besides, I thought you should know since you spend so much time with the twins. They’re curious, and they’re kids… I wouldn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation if they asked something difficult.”

“I appreciate that,” you said, sectioning off another piece of pancake to put in your mouth. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute at the information he’d given you, but you did your best to push them to the backburner for now— you didn’t take him out and force food down his throat for the sake of hearing about his partner. “I am still sorry, though… It seems like a lot of things have happened to you that you don’t deserve.”

“That’s how it always is,” Taehyung shrugged, nonchalant. Something about how accepting he was of his own misfortune bothered you— he shouldn’t have had to be accepting of the way the world has treated him like dirt. You allowed your eyes to wash over him, taking in the slight bags under his eyes and the somewhat pallid quality to his skin. In that moment, you decided to do whatever you could to help him— both for him, and the twins. If it meant you continued sending home little care packages with the twins, then so be it.

Despite the somewhat depressing start the conversation had, it soon melded into more comfortable, relaxed topics. Taehyung seemed interested to know a bit more about you, apparently wanting to corroborate the many things his twins reported back to him with facts straight from the source itself— you. He asked about your schooling, what you wanted to do— eventually he allowed himself to verify some of the things the twins apparently told him, like if you really had a giant gudetama plushie in the corner of your bedroom. You’d blushed at that one, especially considering that it was true. In turn, you’d gone ahead and asked him about some of the things the twins had told you— like if he really didn’t like mint chocolate chip icecream, and if all the older ladies in the building really pinched his cheek and called him handsome every time they saw him.

At that he had cleared his throat and blushed too, before quietly admitting it was true. It seemed the twins were very good at digging up dirt on the both of you.

You didn’t linger in the restaurant all that long, making your way up to the counter after you’d eaten your fill. The conversation continued right up until you reached the register, at which point Taehyung promptly froze. You turned, in the middle of pulling your card out, and caught him looking with white eyes at the total, like he’d completely forgotten that he’d have to pay at the end of it. It wasn’t hard to guess the direction that his thoughts had gone, and when Jihyo read out your total for the table you left it barely a second before moving.

“Boop!” you said, smacking your card on the reader and relishing in the confirmation beep that sounded a second later. “Paid!”

Taehyung looked at you with wide eyes, hand coming to grip your sleeve. “Y/n, that was so much! You didn’t have to—”

“It’s okay, I got paid today,” you smiled at him, holding up the bag of takeaway containers before passing them to him. “Plus, it wasn’t just our meals— now we have some food to take back for the others, too!”

You were oblivious to the fond, amused smile Jihyo was sending your way, especially since she slapped a brighter one on when you faced her. “I’m glad you two enjoyed yourselves! I’ll see you next time y/n, make sure you bring him too! The chefs apparently liked watching his expressions as he enjoyed the food.”

You laughed, bringing your arm up in a mock salute as Taehyung blushed red beside you, risking a sheepish look back at the kitchen. Two chefs were peeking out the doorway, and waved when they saw him looking. Embarrassed, he tugged your sleeve and began moving towards the door, urging you to leave. You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you on the way out, waving to Jihyo as you went and promising you’d be back soon.

— x —

Later, when Taehyung was laying in his own bed after Namjoon had dropped him home, the twins cuddled next to him — they’d been so ecstatic at the special food they’d gotten that they hadn’t left his side all night, clinging to him like never before— he couldn’t help but reflect once more on the changes in his life, however big or subtle. The most noticeable was you, and oddly enough, when he thought of you now, gratitude wasn’t the only feeling swirling in his chest like it had been before. There was something else there, something new and warm and even though he didn’t look any closer at it, scared to see its name, it comforted him all the way to sleep, sending him off to cozy dreams of the sun, the twins, and you.

a/n: pls let me know what u think and whether u enjoyed it by liking and rbing!!! it helps me know i’m doing somthing right!!! also feel free to support me on my kofi and send me an ask or too with what u think !!!1 thank u for reading and i love you!!! <3 <3

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