... Just Learned That Hashtags Here Don't Work Like On Twt Where It Automatically Becomes A Tag 🥲

Shoto Todoroki headcannons

Shoto needs you to be gentle with him, especially after suffering years of abuse from his father and his complicated relationship with his mother. The poor thing just needs love. Out of all the characters, I honestly see him as the one most in need of affection—a definite little spoon. Even if you raise your voice at him, just the slightest bit during a disagreement, his different colored eyes go all sad. Be gentle with the poor thing.

He really enjoys the feeling of your hands in his two toned hair, so he’ll lay down on your lap while you rub his head. He’s very patient and sweet, but he also gets his feelings hurt very easily—not by most people, just by you, so you have to be careful with his emotions because he has a tender heart.

He needs physical touch—he likes to be held tightly in his sleep. He enjoys feeling compressed against you. His favorite position is when you're behind him, his back facing your chest, with your arms tightly around his waist and your face buried in the back of his neck.This position is perfect for both of you because you can hear each other’s hearts beating due to the proximity. It helps drown out his thoughts. Also screw blankets because due to his quirk his body is really warm (at least the left side anyway).

He likes to buy you things. Every type of love language—physical touch, gift giving, acts of kindness, quality time, and acts of service—he loves them all, both giving and receiving. He needs to be able to spend time with you. A great example of quality time is when he specifically used his name to pull strings after becoming a pro hero, getting you on his crew because he didn’t want to be away from you. Since he knew he wouldn’t be home often, he’d rather be away with you, that way he never really had to be away from home because you are his home, in a way.

He always tells you how pretty you are, how much he loves you, and how much you light up his world and make him happy. Ever since you got into a relationship, the boy smiles so much more.

He also needs words of reassurance because he gets insecure. He’ll buy you presents randomly—necklaces, bracelets, simple but cute ones with both of your initials on them.

He doesn’t like you buying expensive things for him because it makes him feel guilty, but it means a lot to him when you buy him chocolate and treats he likes. He has a soft spot for sweets, and it’s nice to see him excited. He usually appears so monotone, but when he’s excited over you, it’s obvious.

He loves you more than anything, and every action, every little gesture, is a reflection of that.

HES SUCH A LOSER IN THE DRAMA I LUV HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Sol: *does anything* Sunjae: 🤭🤭

you and me, religiously ; miya atsumu x f!reader

˚₊ ⸝⸝ ⟶ summary: you were never good at saying how you felt—and neither was atsumu. but the love was always there, quiet and aching, in the way you almost reached for each other but never quite did.

˚₊ ⸝⸝ ⟶ tags: bestfriend!atsumu, childhood friends-to-lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, soft angst

˚₊ ⸝⸝ ⟶ word count: 4k+

˚₊ ⸝⸝ ⟶ notes: just me writing about my fave boy and my fave trope again.

──────── · · · ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* · · · ────────

“you think coach’ll still let me start if i show up late?” suna asked you, monotone, eyes fixed ahead.

you snorted. “not if he finds out you stopped for vending machine snacks again.”

he gave a noncommittal shrug, tapping the volleyball against his hip. “cut me some slack. i just turned eighteen. feels like i should get a pass or something.”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, happy birthday, grandpa. we're all eighteen this year. it's not that deep.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, gaze still on the hallway ahead. “last year of high school, and we’re still running late to practice.”

you grinned teasingly, “just you, sunarin.”

the gym wasn’t far now, the sound of drills and shouting teammates already bleeding into the hallway. then, without looking at you, he said it—casually, like it was just another update from class.

"atsumu’s transferring back here.”

you stopped walking mid-step, shoes skidding slightly against the hallway floor. “what?” you asked, turning your head so quickly toward suna it made your hair shift over your shoulder.

but he didn’t repeat it right away. just kept casually spinning the volleyball in his hands like he hadn’t just dropped the most shocking news you’d heard in years.

“no—wait,” you said again, voice a little breathless now. “are you serious?”

you searched his face for any sign that he was joking. a smirk. a twitch in his eye. something. but there was nothing—just suna, as unreadable as ever, giving a lazy shrug like it wasn’t the one name you never thought you’d hear again.

your heart was pounding. loud, quick, all-consuming.

atsumu was a memory you’d tucked away so deeply you thought it couldn’t reach you anymore. a name that still made something shift in your chest. and now—he was coming back?

he tossed the volleyball up once, caught it again. “yeah. thought it was already going around. he's starting next week.”

it had been years since you last saw him—back when you were both barely fifteen in the middle of junior high. he said goodbye outside your house, late in the evening. the streets were quiet, just the faint humming of the air. you still remembered the way he stood there under the dim porch light, his bag slung over one shoulder, eyes avoiding yours.

atsumu's voice had barely held steady when he said it, like each word scraped its way out of his throat. his fingers curled tightly into the hem of his hoodie, knuckles pale, like he was holding himself together with the smallest thread.

his eyes never really met yours—not for long. they kept flicking to the side, then back again, like he couldn’t decide whether looking at you made it harder to leave or easier to pretend he could.

the streetlight outside your house flickered gently overhead, casting his face in dim amber. he looked older in that moment. not because of time, but because of everything he wasn’t saying.

his heart was thudding too loud in his chest. he wanted to tell you it wasn’t his choice. that he hated the idea of leaving. that every time he packed a bag or thought about his flight, it felt like he was leaving a piece of himself behind.

“i didn’t wanna leave,” he said quietly, almost like it was a secret. “it was just… my mom’s job. she had to move to tokyo, so I had to go too.”

and then he smiled—tight, fleeting. not bright or cocky like usual, but small, like he was afraid that if he smiled any wider, it’d shatter.

“i’ll see ya, ‘kay?” he said, voice barely steady. “promise I won’t forget, y/n. not ever.”

he hesitated for just a second before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you—tight, like he didn’t want to let go. his chin brushed your shoulder, and you could feel the way he held his breath.

“i'll text you. or, like… send pictures or somethin’. i dunno.” he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes earnest. “i'll keep in touch. i mean it.”

and then he let go—too soon—and took a step back, like staying any longer would make it even harder to leave.

he was gone. and at first, he tried—texts here and there, blurry pictures from tokyo, the occasional call late at night when he couldn’t sleep. you clung to those moments, tucked them away like little keepsakes.

but the messages grew farther apart. the calls stopped. life got louder. you were both just kids, and maybe that’s what growing up does—it pulls people in different directions before they even realize it.

until one day, there was nothing. no calls. no letters. just silence. and with time, you started to believe that maybe he was never coming back.

and then, like a breath you didn’t know you were holding—he was there. a week later, just like suna had said, as if he’d never really left.

it was early. the quiet hum of spring had just begun to slip in through the open windows, the scent of cherry blossoms faint in the breeze. your shoes tapped softly against the floor as you stepped inside, half-lost in thought. you enter the room without hesitation, making your way to your usual seat by the window.

as you settle in, you notice that suna isn’t in his seat beside yours. irritated, you grab your phone and quickly type—where the hell are you? i thought we were supposed to come early, then sit back, waiting for his reply.

the room is quiet until a gentle laugh cuts through the silence.

it was the laugh you’d known since you were little, in sun-warmed days playing tag in the park, scraped knees and shared popsicles, pinky promises made on random lazy summer afternoons. the same one that used to pull you by the wrist across the playground, that whispered you’re my favorite in a boy’s clumsy way—through laughter, and shared snacks, and sheltering you from the rain with a too-small umbrella.

you look up, startled, and there he is, already watching you from across the room.

miya atsumu

he looked the same. and he didn’t. he was taller now, with broader shoulders. his blonde hair still framed his face, and his uniform was worn in that casual, half-cared-for way. but it was his eyes that drew you in—something heavier, something older. they held a quiet intensity.

but the way he looked at you—gentle, surprised, as if he was seeing you for the first time—made his breath hitch for a moment. his eyes, focused and soft, took in every detail of how different you looked now. he noticed the way your hair now fell in waves, catching the light just so, and how your eyes looked like it could light up the entire world.

in that split second, atsumu thought none of the girls in tokyo, none of them, could come close, his lips parted, just slightly. he looked like he might say something.

“....y/n?” he called softly, uncertainty tinting his voice as if he weren’t sure the years had changed you both.

he took a step toward you. then another. and you thought you’d forgotten the sound of his voice, but now that it filled the room—low, a little raspier, softer than it used to be—you knew you hadn’t.

not really.

“'tsumu?” you said, your voice soft—like it might disappear if you spoke any louder.

“god,” he said, “you’re really here.”

the silence between you stretched, but not awkwardly. he looked at you like he was still piecing you back together from memory, and you looked at him like you were afraid to blink in case he disappeared again.

“you’ve…changed,” you murmured, eyes tracing the slope of his jaw, the line of his mouth.

he shrugged, then rubbed the back of his neck—boyish, sheepish, but his eyes never left yours. “you haven’t. not really.”

you smiled, and it hit him all at once—how much he missed that smile, how many nights he’d spent regretting the space that had grown between you. guilt settled quiet in his chest, and he wondered if you were angry with him. if he even had the right to miss you this much. and for a brief second, he found himself thinking if the two of you could ever find your way back to how it used to be—before the distance, before he left.

but whatever he was about to say got lost the moment another voice chimed in behind you.

“there you are!” osamu popped in first, eyes lighting up the second he saw you. “holy shit, i knew it! it was you!” he grinned, barely giving you time to react before he threw an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tight like you were still in junior high. “you haven’t changed one bit,” he laughed, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“speak for yourself,” you teased, smiling up at him.

then came suna, hands in his pockets. “you look the same, but less angry,” he said casually, lips twitching in the closest thing to a smile.

you gave him a look. “this why you ignored my text?”

he shrugged, sliding into the seat beside you. “figured you’d find me eventually.”

“yeah? next time we make a plan, i’m ditching you first,” you muttered, nudging him lightly with your foot under the desk.

osamu chuckled as he leaned against your desk. “some things never change.”

“like you being late?” you shot back.

“hey, at least i brought onigiris this time.”

atsumu hadn’t said a word, but somewhere in between the teasing, he’d moved closer. now, he stood just beside you—quiet, lingering—like something in him had been pulled there before he could think twice. it had been years, but standing next to you again made it feel like no time had passed at all. like if he reached out just a little, you might lean into him the way you used to.

he didn’t, though. instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets, let his arms barely brush your shoulder, and said, “jeez, you’re still short. thought you would’ve grown a little by now.”

he let out a soft chuckle, eyes flicking down to you. you could tell he was trying—softening the edges, reaching out in his own awkward way—and so you tried too.

you glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. “you’re just freakishly tall 'tsumu,” you said. “it’s not my fault you hit a second growth spurt or whatever.” the words came easier than you thought they would. like muscle memory. like maybe this didn’t have to be as hard as you feared.

atsumu's shoulders eased, just a bit. he thought maybe you weren’t mad after all. maybe this could still be okay. and when you let out a small laugh—barely more than a breath, but real—and flashed him that same smile he used to see after long practices and stupid jokes, it hit him, soft and sudden—this was home. it always had been. wherever you were.

then, in between moments, the bell rang sharp, but not enough to break the feeling entirely. footsteps echoed into the room as more students trickled in, voices rising, chairs scraping against the floor. the teacher entered not long after, calling for everyone to return to their seats.

atsumu lingered for a second longer, then nudged your head gently with his elbow. “see ya later,” he said, tone light, almost too casual.

osamu gave suna a small nod. “don’t fall asleep in the first ten minutes.”

they both turned—and while osamu crossed the room, atsumu circled behind you.

you didn’t turn to look, but you felt it anyway—the way the air shifted as he sat in his chair just behind yours, of course he did. that was always his seat. still is. and somehow, that small familiarity felt louder now than it used to.

you pressed your pen to the page a little harder than necessary. he was right there. this was going to be distracting. you weren’t even sure why it got to you—just that it did. that he was close enough for you to hear the way he exhaled, the soft scrape of his chair against the floor. that if you leaned back even slightly, you might hear him humming under his breath like he used to.

time blurred after that. one class bled into the next—notes scribbled half-heartedly, lessons that barely registered. your pen hovered over your notebook, unmoving, eyes flicking toward the window, and then back—because you could feel it. that quiet, burning stare.

he was seated just behind you. too close. or maybe not close enough. his presence folded into the edge of your awareness like static, never fully gone. always there.

atsumu stretched once, and the motion behind you was slow, languid. a little exaggerated, a little too casual. you felt the back of his shoe nudge the leg of your chair when he settled again, not hard, just enough to make you glance over your shoulder. you didn’t. but he knew you felt it.

the teacher’s voice faded in and out, words smearing into the background. when he answered a question, his voice came from just behind your ear—low, raspy, but quite soft, like sleep hadn’t left it yet. you didn’t mean to notice it. didn’t want to. but it slipped in anyway, warm and steady. it didn’t matter what he said. it was the sound of it. the way it got to you.

you kept your eyes on the board, but the paper beneath your hand stayed mostly blank. a few scattered notes. a sketch in the margin you didn’t remember starting. you were half-listening, half-drifting, when you felt him lean forward.

“what was the thing the teacher said earlier? somethin’ about that definition?”

you blinked down at your notes. “which one?”

“dunno. you wrote it down, right?”

You hesitated, glancing toward the half-finished sentence on your page. the question wasn’t real—not really. he wasn’t looking for an answer. he was looking for a reason.

“you could just listen for once."

you dipped your head slightly, lips tugging into a smile before you could stop it.

“yeah, but then i wouldn’t get to bother ya.”

he let out a faint sound, something like a breath of amusement, like he was smiling into his hand. you didn’t look back, but you could feel it—his grin, lazy and crooked and far too pleased with himself.

you didn’t turn, just kept your eyes on your notebook. “you gonna keep staring while you do it?”

there was a soft shift behind you—the creak of his chair, the faint rustle of fabric as he leaned forward just enough for his presence to press closer.

“can't help it,” he murmured, and you swore you could feel the curve of a smile in his voice—quiet, a little tired, like it slipped out without thinking.

you told yourself not to read into it. it was just a line. just him being him. still, your grip on your pen tightened, and you had to blink down at your page like it could ground you. first day back and he was already getting to you.

then the final bell dragged itself through the halls like a tired breath. you packed your things slowly, letting the weight of the afternoon settle into your shoulders.

beside you, suna stretched in his seat, back cracking faintly as he let out a quiet sigh. the scrape of a chair. the rustle of bags.

osamu wandered over, dropping his bag beside suna’s desk with a thud. “coach’s gonna go hard today, huh.”

suna snorted. “yeah, well, it’s your fault for skipping practice for three years.”

“not my fault we had that whole tokyo thing,” osamu muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“you and atsumu both,” suna said. “hope you like serving drills. you’re gonna be doing them for the rest of the week.”

atsumu leaned back in his chair behind you, legs stretched out, arms crossed over his chest like he had something to prove. “try me, i’ll still ace every serve,” he said, all confidence, even if it wavered just a little.

osamu gave him a look. “you were complaining about it all lunch.”

“yeah, well. not in front of suna.”

suna rolled his eyes, and you kept your head down, slipping your notebooks into your bag. quiet, careful, like you weren’t listening—but you were.

you were halfway through packing your things, slipping your notebook into your bag while the boys were still talking—half banter, half complaint. suna said something under his breath that made osamu scoff, and atsumu laughed a little too loud, the sound stretching into the space behind you.

you didn’t look back, but you could feel him glance your way. once. then again. like he was waiting for something—or maybe just working up to it.

“you comin’ to watch practice?”

you blinked, unsure if he was talking to you. your hands hovered over your bag, halfway zipped. the question hung there for a moment, light but deliberate. you glanced over your shoulder.

he was looking at you now—eyes steady, a little too focused for something that was supposed to be casual. and so were suna and osamu—conversations fading, the room dipping into a pause. all three of them watching, like the question needed an answer.

you didn’t say anything at first. just nodded to yourself a little, like you were still thinking about it.

“…dunno,” you said eventually, softer than you meant to.

“she never misses,” suna said, deadpan, already slinging his bag over his shoulder.

you shook your head, smile tugging at your lips. “do you memorize everyone’s schedule or just mine?”

suna didn’t miss a beat. “just yours,” he said flatly, nudging your desk lightly with his foot as he stood. “gotta keep an eye on our number one fan.”

osamu snorted as he got to his feet, and atsumu was rubbing the back of his neck, trying (and failing) to hide a grin.

atsumu huffed. “we’re headin’ now. you should come.”

you hesitated. “i gotta drop something off with the teacher.”

he gave a small nod, like he didn’t want to make a thing of it. “alright. see ya there, then.”

they left together, voices fading into the hallway.

once they were gone, the room felt quieter somehow. still full of leftover noise—chairs askew, papers rustling—but without them, it settled into something gentler. something easier to breathe in.

you took your time packing the last of your things, then made your way to the front to drop off a paper with the teacher. your footsteps were unhurried, almost quiet. no real reason to rush.

instead of heading straight to the gym, you circled around the courtyard, taking the long way on purpose. the breeze brushed your face, the late afternoon sun soft against your skin. it wasn’t about avoiding them, not exactly—it was just… everything had felt a little too much all at once.

you lingered at the hallway corner, just outside the gym doors, fingers curled loosely around the strap of your bag. there were voices inside already—shoes squeaking on the polished floor, a whistle cutting through the air.

and then you stepped in.

the sharp thud of volleyballs hitting the court greets you first, followed by the low calls of names, the rhythm of feet against wood. they’re already warming up—spikes on one side, serves on the other. your eyes instinctively search for suna, and you find him crouched near the net, focused and loose-limbed, his movements precise.

but it’s the opposite end of the court that holds you still.

atsumu stands at the service line, a ball in hand, his body already in motion. you catch the fluid arc of his arm, the way his form slices through the air with such practiced grace that it almost looks like muscle memory brought to life.

then the ball sails.

it spins—fast, controlled, almost cruel in the way it dips just before the line. a perfect serve.

you don’t realize you’ve stopped walking until he’s already lining up another.

he looks up. his gaze catches yours.

and it’s… steady. not surprised, not sharp like before, but something softer—open, maybe. the edges of him aren’t as guarded now. he holds your gaze even as he tosses the next ball, his eyes never wavering until the last second, when instinct takes over and he strikes.

this one lands just inside the corner, making even osamu whistle low from the sidelines.

you shift your weight, unsure of what to do with the heat blooming behind your chest.

suna glances over and gives you a slight nod, as if to say you saw that too, huh? you manage a small smile, one that falters when you look back at atsumu—who’s still watching you, even as osamu tosses him another ball.

there’s something unreadable in his expression. not arrogance, not pride. just a quiet hope.

you sit where you usually do, just beside the gym wall. a little removed, a little safe. suna jogs over on a water break and tosses you a bottle he probably stole from someone’s bag.

“you made it,” he says, voice low and dry.

you nod. “long practice?”

“coach is squeezing blood out of us before prelims.” he leans against the wall, brushing sweat from his temple. “he’s serious about nationals this year.”

you hum in response, eyes drifting back toward the court.

atsumu’s still at the service line, though this time, it’s osamu who steps beside him, saying something only the two of them can hear. atsumu’s mouth pulls into a crooked grin before he sends another serve flying.

when it hits the court, it echoes.

a few minutes pass, filled with the steady rhythm of shoes squeaking and balls thudding against the court. The gym hums with effort, voices rising and falling as drills wind down. when the whistle blows for a break, the players scatter—some toward their water bottles, others to the benches lined along the wall.

atsumu makes his way toward you, towel slung around his neck, sweat glinting at his temples. you don’t look up right away, too focused on the notebook in your lap, the corners curled from how tightly you’ve been holding it. it's only when his shadow stretches over the page that you glance up.

“oh,” you say, blinking. “didn't realize your stuff was here.”

he doesn’t answer right away, just drops down beside you with a soft exhale, the kind that comes after a training that steals breath but feels good in the chest.

you give him a sidelong look, then smile a little.

“you're serving really well today, 'tsumu.”

he pauses, mid-reach for his water bottle, and for a second, something flickers behind his eyes. he masks it quickly—tilting his head, smirking like it’s nothing—but inside, the words ring louder than the ball had when it smacked the court earlier.

“yeah?” he says, casual, wiping his neck with the towel.

you hum in agreement, eyes already drifting back to the court, unaware of how the praise has settled in him.

he chuckles, quiet but real, gaze still lingering on you.

“guess it’s ‘cause you’re watchin’.”

the words come softer than his usual teasing—lighter, but not a joke. and for once, he doesn’t try to cover it up.

you glance at him, but he’s already looking away, pretending to be more focused on the court than he is. but you can see it—the way his mouth almost twitches into a smile, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

there’s a beat of quiet, stretched just long enough to feel like it matters.

“that place we used to go to after practice,” he says, voice casual, like it’s nothing. “it still around?”

you nod slowly, zipping up your jacket halfway. “yeah. still there.”

he reaches for his water bottle, then turns back to you with a look that doesn’t quite match the lightness in his tone—something steadier, warmer, a little more certain than before.

“wanna go after this?”

you pause, caught off guard in that quiet, fluttering kind of way. it’s not a big moment. he’s not making it one. and maybe that’s what makes it feel like one anyway.

you smile—soft, barely there, but genuine. “yeah. sure.”

he doesn’t say anything else, just nods once and turns back toward the court. but the expression on his face lingers like an echo, tucked between something fond and something hopeful.

and for a second, it sits with you—settles in, quiet and familiar, like something you almost forgot the shape of. not just the question, but everything behind it. the ease of old routines. the echo of afternoons spent in the same spots, sharing food and stories and laughter that spilled too easily.

you don’t breathe too hard around it, afraid it might break the spell. because it’s been years, and still, somehow, it feels the same. and maybe, just maybe, it always will.

──────── · · · ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* · · · ────────

© lovemetsumu

enha healing your inner child｡⊹˚.⋆

requested <3

↻ PAIRING ! enhypen x gn!reader

↻ GENRE ! tooth rotting fluff

↻ WC ! 4.5k new record woop

↻ WARNINGS ! fake chainsaw in niki’s, ynwon slapping each others butts i dunno?!

a/n: this request was so detailed and creative, lots of credit goes to the amazing anon <3

please enjoy, especially dear anonnie who requested this, and thank you again~

// LEE HEESEUNG !

when heeseung first found out you didn’t know how to ride a bike, he started laughing

“seriously? that’s adorable,” he thinks for a moment, “and a perfect date idea.”

your eyes widened, “wait, what?”

there’s no turning back now

before you knew it, heeseung had ushered you to an empty parking lot, his bike being pulled along next to him the whole time

“yah, if i fall and break my back you’re paying for the hospital bill.” you mutter, arms crossed as you watch your boyfriend lower the bike’s seat to suit your height

he snickers, reaching into his backpack to take out his helmet, “you really think i’d let you fall? stop worrying and put this on.”

you huff in defeat, walking over to the boy and allowing him to buckle the helmet securely around your head

after continuing to baby you by helping strap on the elbow and knee pads, heeseung starts giggling uncontrollably

“you look like a little kid,” he coos in adoration

you pout, smacking his shoulder, “i don’t wanna hear it, you’re the one making me do this.”

heeseung doesn’t deny that, instead deciding to help you get up and onto his bike for the first time

“so, first make sure you always have a strong grip on both handles,” he instructs, guiding your hands in his up to the front of the bike, “and be careful not to lean your body to one side, or you’re just going to fall over.”

after explaining more of the basics, heeseung eventually allows you to begin pedalling for the first time, his hand protectively wrapped around your waist as he slowly jogs along next to you

“see, you already got it!”

“now i really feel like a little kid,” you laugh, continuing to slowly drive along the concrete

heeseung smiles in adoration, “you definitely look like one,” he teases playfully.

“let me take a picture for my lock screen,” he suddenly decides, removing his hand from your waist to pull out his phone

wait, he what

why the hell would he do that? you’ve only been on this thing for a minute and he thinks you’re ready to go?!

the second you no longer feel your boyfriend’s grip steadying you, you start losing control out of nervousness

“hee!” you scream as you begin zig zagging uncoordinatedly, attempting to slow yourself down

meanwhile this idiot was in the middle of opening his camera app, looking up to see you a frightening distance away from him and completely out of control

but luckily, this boy had some long ass legs

he sprinted over to you just in time, wrapping his arms around you to grab the handles right before you inevitably fell over

“never fear, your knight is here~” he says cheesily, as if you didn’t just almost fall to your death

you scoff, “you’re cringe.”

by the end of the day, you’ve become a bike riding pro with the help of a determined heeseung

you can successfully move on your own now, and heeseung took pride in it, saying it was his ‘amazing teaching methods’

you let him believe what he wants… 😒

Keep reading

ꪆৎ kiss me ﹫ lhs

; pair bf!heeseung x fem!reader ; sum heeseung just wants a kiss, well that and maybe to tease you too ; genre fluff , established relatioinship , not proofread

you stare at your phone, watching the video of some girl make slime. it brought back so many memories of when you were younger. you always tried to master the art of making slime, and you did master it. but suddenly the whole smile era ended and now, nobody really talks about it.

this video was reccomended to you and with nothing to do or watch you decided why not. you snack on some gummies heeseung had bought you a few days ago while watching the girl play with the pink slime. she says its so fluffy and soft and it brings you back to your childhood again, but suddenly those memories fly away when heeseung sits next to you.

"what are you doing?" he asks while wrapping his arms around your waist. he places his head on your shoulder and looks at your phone screen. you hear a small laugh escape his lips before he looks at you.

"why are you watching that?" you shrug and shift a bit. "oh you know, reminiscing my childhood memories." you lean against heeseung, letting him see your screen better. "oh and im eating the gummies you bought me, want some?"

heeseung shakes his head. his eyes land on the trace of your lips. you were just so perfect, so delicate. he loved pressing kisses against your lips. your lips were the definition of home to him. it might sound cheesy but it is what it is.

heeseung sometimes finds himself wanting to kiss you when he's stressed. just a small peck will do. he finds himself wanting to kiss you when he's happy. in his mind a longer kiss is better but if you pull away before he wants to he'll be content with the kiss he got.

so now, you reminiscing your old memories makes heeseung feel like he wants to kiss you. you have such a soft look right now. you hair is a bit messy, you're wearing his sweatshirt, and your wearing some sweats. you look really cuddly and heeseung just really wants to kiss you.

he leans closer to your face, not kissing you yet but close enough to press his lips against the tips of your mouth. you can feel his breath running against your cheek to your lips. you feel your cheeks flush, knowing exactly what heeseung is gonna do.

you take it upon yourself and turn around so your faces are right in front of each other. heeseung's faces flushes in surprise. you were never one to initiate a kiss. yeah, maybe you'd give him a peck on the cheek (on the lips if he's lucky) before you leave for work but that was different.

you slowly tilt your head and press your lips on his softly. you only like the soft kisses, nothing to crazy. and for your first time initiating a kiss, you wanted it to be the best kiss heeseung has ever had.

you slowly move your lips against his, moving your body so you can sit more comfortably. you feel heeseung smile against your lips before he takes control of your lips. he wraps an arm around your waist, the other on your neck, tilting you up so he can kiss you more.

one thing you noticed when kissing heeseung was the way he kisses. he let's himself go when he kisses you. he shows how much he loves you and even though no words are exchanged you know everything he's trying to tell you.

he holds you close as if you're gonna fly away. he knows you wont but the closer he is to you the better. when he pulls away he rests his forehead to yours. you often this he's trying to tell you he loves you again because his eyes always find yours and a smile always draws itself on his lips.

it's an image you wont ever forget. he's so beautiful, like an angel. he glows when he's with you. he glows with love.

"you kissed me first." he whispers, his lips barely touching yours. he pulls his forehead away from yours and looks at you with a shy expression, only you know he's anything but shy.

he pretends to put his hair behind his ear as he blinks quickly. "you kiss me first." he repeats in a shy voice. his eyes meet yours and he let's a smirk fall on his lips. you shoved him with your foot and scoot away from him.

"shut up." you turn your phone on again to watch your slime video but heeseung quickly takes it away. "did you really want to kiss me that bad?" you feel your cheeks flush at his words but you dont want to give into his teasing.

"not really, you were just there. it seemed as if you wanted to kiss me that bad." you notice heeseungs face falter for only a second. he puts his teasing expression back on his face and scoots closer to you.

he makes a kissy face while leaning in. "kiss me again." he says with his lips in a pout. you put your finger on his forehead and push him back. "let me watch my slime video, go away."

heeseung shakes his head. "not until you kiss me again, i know you really want to." he leans in again, his lips ghosting yours. "please? just one more." you roll your eyes and peck his lips.

"there, now go." heeseung smiles and gets up. "im writing this on the calendar, we're celebrating it every year." you chuckle at your boyfriend. maybe kissing him wasn't so bad, especially if he acts this happy.

🎬 노트 && . im not completely back, again writers block is killing me and so is school. so much stuff has happened these past few weeks. on the bright side i had a dream about hee last night, it was about him kissing me :D it wasnt quite like this but my dream inspired me so here we are!

🧷 perm tl && . send ask or comment to be added

shiratorizawa

Help for Venezuela. REBLOG PLEASE.

Help me spread the word about what is happening in my country.I don't want to cry anymore thinking about what is going to happen to my family, or my friends. Many in my generation have committed suicide due to the desperation of the current crisis, others have left their university careers to go to work at an early age for a starvation wage. Please, I just want to stop suffering, I don't want to cry anymore, I just want a normal adolescence for all young people. My people need FREEDOM.

bye I was so confused I thought it was about y/n posting the pics not the other way around 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"PICTURES I POSTED ON MY IG STORY JUST FOR MY CRUSH TO SEE" TREND W/ JAKE

pairing! non-idol!jake x gn!reader

genre! fluff, college au, social media au

warning! nothing, just teeth rotting fluff

notes! found this trend to be fricking adorable so I wanted to do it with jake cuz I feel like he'd do this type of thing lmao, enjoyyy

@ boigyu 2024. don't plagiarize, steal or translate my work

one more month — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan missing you while he’s on tour. (0.6k words)

“Chan?”

It’s 11pm for you when he calls from his hotel room, somewhere oceans away. There’s still sleep dripping from your tone, and he can almost hear the rustling of sheets from your end.

“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” Chan speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He was careful not to shake you out of your silence.

“Mmm, no.” You croak out.

He knows you’re lying, could almost picture you jolting from your sleep at the familiar buzz of your ringtone. The thought makes him swallow, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“Is there a reason why you’re calling?”

He pauses before answering. Chan has no idea how the fuck he’s feeling right now, but he knows he misses you.

It’s been 4 months since he last saw you. All he has are pictures of you in his phone, and occasional phone calls that will never suffice to the way you sound in person. To the way you feel in person.

Chan stares out the big fucking window from where they’re staying, finding comfort in the thought that you might be looking at the same moon.

He swallows again. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Of course not.”

“Just miss you.” He breathes out slowly, head tilted on the glass windows. “And I wish— we didn’t have to be so far away all the time.”

He’s thinking of you, imagining how you look right now with tired eyes. He’s thinking of what it would be like if he was there right now. You’d probably be asleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs. It would look uncomfortable from an outsider’s eye, but he knows. Knows how it feels to have your heartbeat pressed against his and how nice it feels.

You sigh. “One more month.”

The tone in your voice is gentle, yet knowing. He knows you miss him too.

“For now, you need to sleep, no?”

It’s 3 in the morning for him, and he’ll have to be awake again in three hours.

“Can’t.” He bites his lip, swallowing hard as he tries to fight the sob brewing in his throat. Your heart clenches at the way he sounds, knows that when he feels, he lets it take over him.

“Will you be able to sleep if I stay on the phone?”

“Maybe.” Shaky.

“Okay. Have the kids been treating you well?”

A smile pulls at his lips at the mention of his best friends, and the topic change does a good job at masking the nauseating pain of missing you. A bandaid. A temporary fix.

“Still loud and stubborn, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“Hmmm, I won’t be surprised if you come home with a head of white hair.”

He laughs at the thought, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’m already starting.”

“Then Seungmin calling you an old man is justifiable, then?”

“I don’t think I like you teaming up with the boys against me. You’ve signed up on my team the moment you said yes to being mine.”

You laugh from your end, and Chan’s heart flutters at the sound. He can almost see you with your crescent eyes and the cute scrunch on your nose, the one you do when you cackle.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to picture himself right there with you. He knows it’d only rip the bandaid he’d desperately plastered on himself.

“Not sleepy yet?”

“Just a little.” He admits quietly, a yawn escaping his mouth.

There’s stifling from his end, and you can only assume he’s slipped himself back into the covers of his bed.

You keep telling him stories, no matter how menial, anything to keep him company. You know he just needs to hear your voice, has told you before how simply hearing you comforts him—it’s a calm only you can offer.

Chan breathes in and out slowly.

It’s four in the morning now, and there’s quiet snoring in the background.

“Goodnight Channie. One more month.”

ଓ — SUNKISSED CHEEKS.

a domestic lovey-dovey morning with sunoo becomes a family reality show as you two take care of riki.

pairing: k.sn x gn¡reader ⸝⸝ special participation: nishimura riki ⁠⸝⁠⸝ wc: 1.0k ⸝⁠⸝ genre: fluff.

When morning came, the sun was visible through your window's curtains, casting a trail of light that reflected off your lover's face.

Sunoo inevitably woke up to the hot flame on his face, opening his eyes slowly, but quickly feeling energized by the daylight. He turned to gaze at your side and grinned as if it made him the happiest boy in the world to watch you resting well. To better admire you, he moved your hair out of the way with his fingers as he trailed them across your face. His passionate glance could convey more than words, but he felt compelled to express himself better.

“I love you so much, y/n,” he murmured to himself, since you couldn't hear it.

But as the time passed, he realized it was time to get you up even though he didn't want to disrupt your sound sleep. He then came up to your body and gave you a gentle hug as he kissed your cheeks.

He whispered in your ear, “Good morning, beautiful,” and you instantly melted.

You were stretching, making a mess of the sheets, and clearly not in good shape, but he would still be sweet.

Sunoo glanced at you and said, "You are so pretty."

And he was utterly taken aback when you said, “Nobody is pretty when they wake up in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes as he replied dramatically, “No way, you are.”

Then you said, “If you think so...”, and as Sunoo leaned in for a kiss, a knock on the door broke up the moment.

“Are you guys busy? Please don't say you're busy...” a boy's voice could be heard through the door.

“You can come in, Riki,” Sunoo gave him permission, very annoyed.

The boy's expression upon entering the room could indicate something was wrong.

Sunoo and you used to hang out a lot, thus Riki always ended up staying with you. Whether you two were at home or out, Riki was always there. So it wasn't odd that the boy was at your place watching television and sleeping on your couch. For him things were perfect like that.

Riki wasn't someone you didn't trust, but the fact that he showed up in your room and stood in front of you with his hands clasped wasn't a good sign. Consequently, you were immediately suspicious of that.

“What did you do?” you and Sunoo asked in unison.

“I might have started a fire,” he admitted and you and Sunoo stood up in shock.

“No! Wait, the fire is out and everything is under control” you relaxed after hearing his explanation.

Riki followed you as you went to check your kitchen because you were still concerned about the fire. Fortunately, there were no signs of fire there, but when you turned around, Riki was staring at you with a puppy-dog expression, as if he were going to ask you something.

“Can you prepare my breakfast...?” he requested and you giggled at how adorable he was.

Sunoo made avocado toast as you chopped the strawberries. Riki seemed to be daydreaming as he watched you prepare his food. He frequently daydreamed, it was a habit of him, which piqued Sunoo's interest in whatever was going through the boy's head.

“Riki, what are you being so thoughtful about?” Sunoo enquired.

“There are times when I feel like I'm on a family reality show when I'm with you,” he said.

Riki's point of view was ambitious but he was right to assume that given the situation. You and Sunoo looked at each other, sharing the same thought, almost like you were communicating telepathically.

“And then, in this case, would you be our son?” you asked and Riki answered dramatically.

“No! No way! not in that way.” You and Sunoo laughed at him as he continued to excuse himself.

You made the decision to take a stroll along the lake near your house as soon as breakfast was finished. As you sprinted among the flowers, the blazing sun glistened on your faces.

You were jogging when Sunoo abruptly grabbed your arm and kissed your lips. It was unexpected, therefore you were taken aback, but you gave him a hug after a brief moment.

He was at ease with you and didn't want to let go any longer. You attempted to flee, but he resisted, gripping you tightly until you both fell to the ground.

When Sunoo noticed the clear sky, he said, “Woah... I enjoy this view.”

You turned to face him and remarked, “I like this view too.”

“Stop it!” He avoided making eye contact by turning your face away.

Falling in love seemed like a good idea in that summer. You continued to study Sunoo's face in an effort to permanently retain all of his features in your memory. These graphics would be really helpful if you were actually in a TV show. You would undoubtedly watch the show every Saturday just to see the boy's face.

You sat looking out at the horizon when you noticed the far away image of Riki tossing stones into the lake.

You murmured, “Perhaps he needs some attention.”

“No, he doesn't.” Sunoo said in response.

“Let's go there!” You convinced him as he always do whatever you wants anyway.

You approached Riki, drawn to his playfulness, unaware that you were risking your lives. Sunoo innocently put his hand on the water as Riki continued to toss stones when he suddenly had an evil idea. The boy was smirking at you, but you were too distracted to notice. Riki approached slowly behind your back, as if he only had nice intentions, but when you turned to face him, it was already too late.

Riki shoved you into the lake with one blow, but to his dismay, you ended up pulling Sunoo, who ended up pulling him, and in an instant, everyone was submerged and fully wet.

“Riki, you are crazy!” you said reluctantly while Sunoo dramatically pretended to cry.

“I no longer want to be on this show.” Sunoo stated.

Riki emerged from the water swiftly and simply remarked, “I'm sorry,” wearing a smile “It seems too romantic right now. I'd best go away from here, right?” and escaped.

While Sunoo and you both desired to die.

© badmuni 2022

# masterlist