Catching Him Watching You Sleep ︱stray Kids

... just learned that hashtags here don't work like on twt where it automatically becomes a tag 🥲

LE(t’s) GO!

a/n. screaming crying throwing up my parents got me those lego flowers (that one set on the last pic) :( and yes, this is what mainly inspired me to write this >.<

"hee!"

your boyfriend jolted up on the couch and sprinted towards the hall once he heard your voice.

"you’re home! i missed you!" heeseung cooed once he saw you. his arms sneaked around your waist and he placed a soft kiss on top of your head. you looked up at him and hee figured out that you’re up to something.

"i missed you too" you hummed and placed a tender peck on his lips. hee frowned yet the corner of his lips turned up.

"did something happen?" hee asked.

"i got you a small present!" you grinned and wriggled out of his grip and reached for a yellow wrapped box.

"oh?" heeseung hummed and tilted his head, curious.

"c’mon, open it!" you pushed the box onto his hands, sparks of excitement in your eyes. you didn’t have to tell him again.

your boyfriend unwrapped the yellow paper and you watched his mouth part in disbelief, eyes widening.

"you got me lego?" he whispered, looking at the set.

"yeah! i saw it and thought about you! you said you had much fun while putting together this set that niki gave you so–" you started rumbling and hee shushed you with his own lips, passionately smacking them against yours.

he hummed into the kiss, pulling back once he felt like he needed some air.

"best. girlfriend. ever" heeseung said before taking a deep sigh and running his fingers through his hair, looking at you hesitantly.

"what are you waiting for? go put it together!" you scoffed.

"let’s go!" he let out a yelp and pressed another peck onto your forehead before rushing to the living room.

after unpacking the groceries you bought on your way home and changing into comfortable clothes, you peeked into the living room.

heeseung was sitting in front of the coffee table, lego pieces on it. he played some music through the speaker and focused on putting the legos together.

his handsome features were puckered in focus. brows furrowed, nose a bit scrunched, lips pouting unconsciously.

"hee?"

nothing.

you smiled and shook your head, coming up to him. he was reading the manual, fingers tracing the drawings.

"hee…" you tucked his hoodie.

"hmm?" he hummed and put down the paper just to start looking for the piece he had to put together now.

you sighed and plopped down onto his lap, making yourself comfortable. heeseung put his chin on your shoulder right away, out of habit.

"i love you" he hummed and grabbed your hands gently to move them in the direction of needed lego piece.

"you’re just saying that because i got you legos" you teased and grabbed the pieces.

"not true" hee giggled and showed you where and how you should follow the next step.

there was something this day that heeseung discovered about legos – sure, he loved them. but he loved putting them together with you even more.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist: @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @lhsng ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount

watdafawk 😦 WHY IS IT SO DEFINED

OH IM SO DONE FOR

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

⌗ 𝐄𝐍- 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 !

pairing: bf!en- x gn!reader | genre: fluff, angst | cw: mentions of loud noises, pet names, crying — mostly fluff | wc: 590

໒ ✿ HEESEUNG: ꒱

his initial instinct upon seeing you being scared of or surprised by the loud noise(s) is to take a hold of your hands. he looks into your eyes for any sense of discomfort and when you tell him that you don’t do so well with loud noises, he immediately coos at you. telling you that’s he so sorry it bothers you :( this boy just wants to rubs your back while trying to calm you down, letting you rest your head on his shoulder in the meantime.

“you’ll be okay y/n, deep breaths sweetheart.”

໒ ✿ JAY: ꒱

the way jay’s protectiveness kicks in upon seeing you all upset is just so reassuring. he pulls you by your arms and has you lay sideways on your couch with your head rested on his chest. he whispers sweet nothings in your ear while caressing your face and tells you that everything is going to be okay while you calmly drift off to sleep. the noise that had scared you prior no longer in your train of thought.

“i’m here now baby, it’s alright.”

໒ ✿ JAKE: ꒱

this angel of a boy just knows exactly how you’re feeling and engulfs you in his arms. your head tucked under his chin as you let out a couple of tears because of how the noise made you feel. jake rocks both his and yours bodies side to side to help your sensitivity subside a bit. after a couple of minutes of peaceful silence, he lifts your head up and kisses your forehead. his eyes brightening at the small smile that forms on your face.

“i’m glad you’re feeling better now, my love.”

໒ ✿ SUNGHOON: ꒱

i do feel like sunghoon might be a bit confused at your reaction at first, but he quickly catches on. you call out for him and grab onto his shirt while crying a bit. hoon knew you hated being overwhelmed with noises — especially loud ones; so he peppers kisses all over your face. kissing all your tears away while you laugh at his sweet antics.

“let it all out darling, i’m here.”

໒ ✿ SUNOO: ꒱

the way sunoo is soso comforting makes me all gushy inside. so sweet to you, it’s insane. he takes both of your hands and leaves kisses over them both constantly as you sniffle in his arms. he holds you so tight and plays with your hair as you leave a couple of pecks onto his cheeks as a wordless but considerate ‘thank you.’

“it’ll be okay, lovely. not leaving you ever.”

໒ ✿ JUNGWON: ꒱

jungwon is very mature and great at handling you in situations like these. that’s why when he hears you whimper a bit because of the noise, he wraps his hands around your waist and tells you to breathe. after you’ve calmed down, he urges you to hydrate yourself. after you’re back to normal, won cuddles you as if it’s the last time he’d ever be able to do so.

“come on bubs, just a sip. and then we can go nap, yeah?”

໒ ✿ RIKI: ꒱

tbh he is so confused at first like he kind of laughs at your reaction because he thinks you’re faking it (?). but when you look at him with teary eyes he feels so bad. immediately pulling you into his lap as he kisses the side of your face. and when you tell him about how the noise made you feel super overwhelmed, he takes note of this for next time and plays with your hands as you fall asleep in his arms.

“i’m so sorry, y/n. i love you so much. come on, tell me how you’re feeling.”

© jakeyuni 2022. all rights reserved.

A LITTLE MYSTERY NEVER HURT ANYBODY . . . pro-hero katuski bakugou x f ! actress reader. m—dni / fluff / hints of ‘tension’ and maybe suggestive… / established relationship / little smau at the end / not proofread / minors don’t read this !!

despite being a fairly new actress, you were able to catch the attention and hearts of the fans from your recent debut just two years ago. becoming a highly in-demand star, given every project possible just to be seen on the screen. however, you kept a secret. that one secret that could cause a frenzy, that the beloved actress of the nation is dating the one and only pro-hero dynamight.

they all assumed that they definitely knew the both of you are in a relationship… somehow. you had that certain glow and katsuki definitely made it sure that he’s not available. no matter how many fans tried to flirt, no matter how many interviews he’s gone through he says one thing very clear, “got a pretty girl already.” however, nobody knew it was with the two of you together.

countless articles are read about you, how you were overheard with a director from your upcoming series that you wanted to avoid any romantic scenes or a partner in general. which boosted more speculation on your ‘mysterious’ love life.

now, your manager says that she got you booked with a new project. you’ll be in a promotional shoot with a pro-hero for a fashion campaign with an upcoming designer. “that’s fine right? you’d be with someone in the shoot though.” your manager says. you shrug, looking over at the recent line the designer put out.

“it’s fine. no point in declining opportunities right?”

she nods enthusiastically, “that’s the spirit! we were actually surprised the team agreed immediately when they found out it was you. i heard they only accepted solo projects for him.”

you smile, “well whoever it’ll be i’m sure we’ll do great.”

the moment you step foot on the set, you were immediately greeted by the designer themselves. “y/n you’re so beautiful, you’re so perfect for us!”

“thank you for believing in me! please take care of me well.” you bow and was brought to your own dresser. quickly dressed in a silk robe and getting your makeup done. your hair was in curlers, the team taking their sweet time to make sure they enhanced your features for the shoot.

you hear a knock on your door, and you could hear your manager gasp when she opens it. peeking at the mirror with one eye, you see a familiar figure walking towards you, messing with the collar of his shirt.

“hey baby.” voice raspy and hoarse. now everyone in the room was shocked. looking at the two of you. to top it all off, katsuki places a quick kiss to your cheek and getting a stool to sit beside you.

your manager definitely felt like she was gonna faint. she had no idea what this was or when, or even how. everyone else was also in shock and confused, felt like time stopped somehow.

why is he now acting all lovey dovey in public? is what they all, including you, wondered.

“fuck baby you’re looking too pretty.” you giggle, trying to stay in place while the makeup artist adds their finishing touches. “thank you katsuki, no wonder you agreed to this shoot.” you say. the makeup artist finally says you’re done, you were all ready, just needed to change into the outfit.

katsuki was in a fitted velvet button up shirt with low-rise slacks. only the middle section of the shirt was buttoned, and for the first time in your career, your professionalism was definitely getting tested. just a little lower you could probably catch a glimpse of his happy trail. “who allowed you to wear that?” you motion with your head. but before he could answer you’re already turned around, moving behind the divider to dress up.

“aw come on, i know you fuckin’ like it.” he says loudly, then followed by the door closing. suddenly the staff was all on you after you stepped out. complimenting how you looked so good, how you’re going to be the new face of the brand after this. but most especially, the elephant in the room.

“i know everyone’s thinking you have a boyfriend but… dynamight?!”

“where, when, why, and how?”

“i never saw him speak that sweetly to anyone before….”

“i thought it was another celebrity! this is really unexpected.”

lots and lots of questions but they were immediately shut down by your manager who wanted to maximize the time. “we still got a shoot. y/n can tell us the details another time.” she gives you that look that reads ‘you better tell me everything’ and you give her an apologetic smile.

you take a look in the mirror, seeing how you matched with him. in a tight velvet dress that hugged your figure really well, probably a piece from the earlier collections. it’s pretty, the skirt is slanted with peaks of ruffled tulle.

you’re start walking to the set where katsuki was already waiting. “oh our princess! you look amazing.” the designer says, holding his hands to his chest. “i knew you and dynamight would look amazing together, i thank you both really.”

you grab their hands, “i’m really happy you paired me with him too!”

you approach katsuki with a smile, and he’s already grinning at you. “well shit this might be the hardest job i’ve taken yet.” he chuckles, placing a hand on your back to help you on the extravagant set.

you’re shining so bright and in your element that he’s just happy to be there. yet, the whole time he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you, how his hold on you lingered, wanting to touch you even more, even deeper. despite the director giving clear directions that you followed with no fuss, he on the other hand just has to have a hand on you. but it definitely gave an effect on each shot.

katsuki couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you, eyes glimmering with desire. and how you’re looking at him with such a cool glare—it just felt so out of character for the both of you. who’s usually so sweet and him who’s usually so out for reach. “think i need you in this dress when i take you home.” he would whisper. and you’ll playfully hit him on his arm.

when you prepare for the next shot he’d always tell you things that’d rile you up. and when nobody’s paying attention he’d be looking you up and down. “bet you’re even prettier under this fuckin’ dress.”

even in between clothing changes you both looked picture perfect. both complementing each other’s visuals. he’d sneak you out from time to time to get a smooch here and there, resulting in the makeup artists on the set to fix him up because his and your lipsticks would smudge, wondering why he gets messed up all of a sudden.

“you’re so damn pretty baby. too bad the makeup’s gonna get ruined when we get home.”

“stop teasin’ during work kats…”

the last shot had you both seated on the carpet. it was sexy, your hand’s on his bare chest and he’s leaning in towards you with a finger under you chin. the two of you together felt magnetic. it’s so interesting to everyone in that room how the hero who’s usually uncontrollable became so compliant because if you. overall, it just felt too romantic, that petals of roses were somehow seen falling down on the both of you while you posed.

what was most unexpected was how katsuki really enjoyed being in front of a camera, as long as it’s with you (might’ve gotten a few ‘creative’ ideas too). he’s definitely making one of these photos his wallpaper when they upload it.

and the next day, that one shot trended all over the internet. blasted all over the digital billboards in the city too. finally seeing the elegant y/n who seemed to have helped show a new side of the pro-hero to the public.

showering the brand with praises and how much of a ‘genius’ they were for even choosing the two of you as the muses. because it really was just a coincidence that the owner was a fan of you both.

then there goes the online articles, the video complications, the noise that just won’t die down. tweets and photos, even a sudden rise in fanpages. dynamight and y/n, and the public that’s trying to piece every evidences of your interactions. how they were all tricked that your relationship was just under their noses. how in events you’re always seen together, or how your car was spotted in his neighborhood that one time. or when katsuki always keeps saying in interviews that his favorite shows and media always had you in it—main lead or not. the way nobody caught it even when you mentioned that dynamight was one of your favorite heroes. even showing them a small plushie charm that you carried on you hanged on your bag—everyone was stunned.

still, neither of you confirmed anything, yet.

till the moment the official account of the brand posted all the shots of you together, and it was very obvious how the two of you were actually in love, like the head over heels type.

well, the both of you are gonna have more projects together soon for sure.

bonus!

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i really like this actress au i’m definitely gonna make more 😔🙏 different versions for sure

it's getting thicker wtf

It's the second picture though

https://x.com/daykercrf/status/1902780578358796321?s=46&t=qG9H0KoqFOisUk6aq81CDw

based on the gif from this tweet

if you look closely, you'll see my room rn flooded with my tears 😊

⋅ GENRES: established relationship; fluff

⋅ PAIRING: Heeseung x fem!reader

⋅ WORD COUNT: 1.1K

⋅ WARNINGS: established relationship with Heeseung?! slow dancing with him late at night?! he singing love songs to you?! it’s all valid warnings if you ask me, but aside from these; suggestive content; mentions of alcohol

if you read it a few months ago but with another member — no! you didn’t! you are recalling it wrongly! just kidding, special thanks to everyone who joined the poll and helped me select the main character of this repost ♡

Heeseung wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy you expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants.

No. Heeseung was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you and order food past midnight. He laid blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room and made picnics on it. The lyrics of a love song and your laughter being the only furor in the middle of the sleeping city. And then, when the bowls were empty and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him.

Barefoot and clumsy, Heeseung loved to dance with you.

The night had fallen into those strange hours when no one could tell if it was really late or really early. The city was silent beyond the opened windows of your living room, allowing Heeseung’s playlist to resonate as if it were the only sound in the entire world.

Along with his laughter, of course.

You looked at him, mind halted in the middle of a sentence you would never finish. You weren’t sure if you had intended to be funny, you knew you were talking, trailing a long line of thoughts but then he laughed, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes in a habit you already knew.

Heeseung’s body had come undone in happiness far too many times throughout the course of your relationship for you to not have it engraved in your heart. But shafts of golden luminescence reached for him tonight, embellishing his skin with a soft glow, and when he straightened himself back to look at you, it made his eyes shine, glinting in errant spheres of gold.

Heeseung was so beautiful beneath all of this — all made in reflections of the city lights and the dim flames of the candles you had lit at some moment at the beginning of the night.

You couldn’t remember making the decision to reach for him, but you must have done it because he took your hand in mid-motion, thumb caressing the inside of your wrist before he brought it up to his lips and kissed it.

“Dance with me,” he said. The question had no question mark, no doubt or uneasiness. Heeseung knew you would never refuse him, but he still waited for you to nod at him before he used your connected hands to pull you up.

You didn’t recognize the song coming from his phone, a fast beat that had him spinning you through the hardwood floor of your living room. His movement caught you so unprepared, it made you laugh loudly, and Heeseung took it as the cue to swirl you again and again, the shirt you had stolen from him moving dangerously around your thighs until he decided to bring you back to him and pull you against his chest.

“Aren’t we being too loud?” you asked.

“If your neighbors file a complaint again, maybe you will take a hint this time and move into mine.”

“You want me there so badly, don’t you?”

“You have no idea love,” he whispered, spreading his hands at the small of your back, and bringing you closer to him. His palms were warm through the thin material of your — his shirt and your heart knocked inside of your chest, so loud you were sure he could feel it echoing through the space between you.

Heeseung’s touches were no novelty to you. He had explored your body far more than anyone would or could — God, he had touched you just a few hours previously, but still there was something about being beneath his attention that would always make you a bit overwhelmed.

The song that came on next was quieter, not lazier, or languid but he leaned in as if you were to slow dance, his cheek resting against the side of your head and allowing you to breathe him in. Heeseung smelled like the woody scent of his perfume, dry imbues, and blackberry leaves — he smelled like the wine he had brought for your picnic and home.

If your heart wasn’t aching already, it did then and there.

“I like this song,” he said. At first, you thought it had been a statement to nobody, but he placed his lips against your ear, and the lyrics threaded through your hair as if the only thing he ever wanted was for you to know it.

“I see my future when I look into your eyes.”

It was nothing extravagant. His voice came a bit low and timid, but it only made your heart ache a little bit more.

“It took your love to make my heart come alive,” Heeseung sang. “Cause’ I lived my life believing all love is blind.”

“But everything about you is telling me this time it’s forever, this time I know, and there’s no doubt in my mind.”

Your hands left the safety of his shoulders to slip up, fingers curling on the hair at his nape, bringing him impossibly closer. Heeseung gasped at your actions, the soft rustle of his breath hitching against your ear as he failed to sing the next lyrics, but he didn’t need to — you already knew them.

You always knew them.

Forever, until my life is through. I’ll be loving you forever.

The song kept going, but Heeseung stopped, drawing back just enough to look at you, his eyes lingering and simply unable to conceal the pure and unfiltered adoration he had for you.

Heeseung wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy you expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants.

No. Heeseung was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you, kneeling on the dirty pavement to pick tiny blossoms and put them in your hair. He ordered food past midnight, and laid blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room to make picnics on it. The lyrics of a love song and your laughter being the only furor in the middle of the sleeping city. And then, when the bowls were empty and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him, barefoot and clumsy, and you would barter it for nothing.

After all, this was how you found forever.

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… 😒

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