Hyunjin Lockscreens

── ✧ words of affirmation with heeseung

heeseungxgn!reader | 0.78k words | fluff

a/n: you can probably guess which ones are my personal love languages or who my biases are lmao.

read the others here: jungwon | jake

you're ecstatic, the test results were better than you expected. your friend in the class comes up to your seat in the lecture hall, excited to share their results and ask for yours. the bright smile on your features reveal all, never leaving your face as you leave the room with them chatting about the lecture you just finished. you wave to them as you head towards the food hall, ready to take a break before your next class.

you fish for your phone, immediately video calling your boyfriend. your eyes light-up when the call connects, his familiar face on your phone screen.

"hey (y/n), how'd it go?" heeseung asks, though by the look on your face he'd like to assume it went well. you bring the paper into view, the grade visible. "it went well hee! i did better than i thought!" you exclaim, your voice catching the attention of others. you blush and bow apologetically before returning your eyes to heeseung's face, hearing his chuckle making your cheeks burn in embrassment.

"i'm so proud of you (y/n), i knew you could do it. does that mean you're coming over then to celebrate?" he questions with a hopeful smile, fixing his hair briefly in the phone screen briefly. your eyes watch for a moment before snapping out of it, nodding frantically. "i have one more lecture and i'll be on my way" you answer. "great, i'll meet you after then. i'll see you then my love" heeseung waves before ending the call. you put away your phone, dreading the line coming into view for the food you wanted to order.

as your final lectures ends, you're putting away your belongings. your classmates greet you a good weekend before they leave. humming, you don't notice heeseung entering the class and stopping in front of your seat. at least till he reaches for your notebook at the same time as you. you instantly jump, though you sigh in relief when you realize it's just him. he lets out a laugh, messing up the hair on top of your head. "good to see you too (y/n)" he teases, making you roll your eyes. he pulls you close, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling away.

"hi heeseung, ready to go?" you ask, pulling your bag straps on your shoulders. he nods, holding his hand out for yours which you oblige. he steals a glance at your outfit, smiling as he winks at you. "is this new? you look great." you roll your eyes, "i sure hope i do considering you wouldn't stop complimenting me until I bought it" which makes heeseung laugh, "but you do look good in it, well anything you wear looks great" he comments earning a punch to his shoulder playfully. you two walk out of the campus to the subway station, finding seats on the train beside each other.

you lean your head on his shoulder, pulling out your phone to scroll on social media. you poke him from time to time, showing him whatever video popped up on your timeline, giggling and smiling whenever he comments on it.

"you look cute you know?" he starts, eyes gazing down at you. "well I'm mean you're always cute but there's something about you being excited to share the little things like a video you find funny to me is really cute" he grins, your eyes meeting briefly before you hide your sheepish smile in your shirt.

"and I think it's even cuter when you try to hide that adorable smile of yours" he adds, earning a whine from your lips as you hit his thigh. "and I think you like making my cheeks burn red like apples" you huff.

"i just love you" he states blankly, making your eyes widen and meet his. not that heeseung wasn't the type to say these affectionate words, but you could never understand how easy it left his lips with ease.

how his good morning/night messages never failed to make your heart flutter, how he gave you little doodles and sweet notes during first year. how never failed to compliment your new outfits with a smile and a kiss to your flushed cheeks. it just came so easy to him and you may never understand why.

"i love you too heeseung" you reply, not facing him to yourself calm down from his sudden bursts of affection. heeseung smiles to himself, his arm resting on your shoulder as he leaves a kiss on your temple. you silently wished the subway would go faster; maybe you'd be able to get off the train without looking like a tomato because of a certain someone.

taglist [open]: @hell1cy @wtfhyuck @wonielvr @dilllima likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

jungwon fanfic recommendation 1 !

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press to start !

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

how to be a heartbreaker @coffeewon

loverboy @nvertheless

chasin your pretty thoughts @ddeonuism

boyfriend application @maiwon

dimple boy @faeriwon

get it together, jungwon ! @choibinn3

my first love @jwsflower

when two broken hearts collide @jakeyuni

with love, jungwon @enloveclub

new year at flowershop @giyyuzz

a project and a guitar @giyyuzz

mc enemiez ! @246sn

confession cafe @nikihoon

fiesta @lunaflvms

once again, forever @iwonzzi

lost cause @yeongwonie

blinded @jungwoniics

your class pres @srjlvr

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opposite direction @chenlesun00

if we are both single @winwonies

☁✧ ッ find me @kyyuri !

I just melt with these hyune fluffs

the premise: ur reaction to hyunjin's new short purple hair. this is very self indulgent and silly and fluffy and im mad at this man for being so pretty (i love him so much)

"are your eyes closed?" hyunjin's voice echoes from behind the door, as you lie on your stomach upon the bed.

"they are!" you yell back, palms pressing tightly against your eyelids. "can you hurry, i miss the light."

"you are so dramatic," hyunjin giggles, and you can vividly imagine him, head tipped back, a fond smile etched on his face—the one he reserves just for you. it sends a tingling warmth through your spine; you've come to learn hyunjin through these past three years, you can now clearly envision him, even behind your darkened eyelids, picturing every mimic of his as if he's right before you.

"save me boyfriend with pretty brown eyes, save me!"

"just a few more seconds baby, i promise," he quickly reassures, and you bite your lip slightly. you know he must be running his hands through his hair, trying to tame the stubborn strands you love to tuck behind his ear. a slight nervous shake in his limbs as he assesses himself in the enormous vanity mirror in your room. hyunjin knows he's good looking, it would be idiotic of him to believe otherwise. but it is always after significant changes in his appearance that he becomes almost shier, as if adjusting to the person reflecting back in the mirror.

"you're really pretty, you know that, right?" you speak softly.

"you didn't even see me yet," a smile is latched onto his words, making them ring sweetly in your ears.

"i don't need to. i think you are physically incapable of being ugly. beauty just oozes from each one of your features."

"okay, you can look now because i need to kiss you before i pass out," he sighs and you laugh before swiftly pulling your hands away from your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the stream of light coursing through your pupils. and then, your gaze locks on hyunjin.

his hair is short again. deep purple reflections dancing underneath the silver light of your bedroom.

you blink.

his hair is still short. and purple.

you blink again.

"are you... malfunctioning?" he chuckles, eyes disappearing into moon crescents.

"holy shit," you whisper, scrambling to the edge of the bed where he's standing, fidgeting from one leg to another. you quickly stand on the mattress so you can tower over him, turning his head to the left, then right.

"you cut your hair," you whisper in wonder.

"i did. do you like it?"

"do. i. like. it?" you repeat incredulously, running your fingers through his silky threads. "i prayed for this day to come, you don't understand," you beam at him, wrapping your hand around his neck, his hands find the slate of your waist, pressing you closer to him.

"did you now, love?"

"you're so pretty. i hate you," you sigh, tugging at his strands in wonder, admiring the rich color that's dancing off his hair.

"that sounds contradictory," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. you bite his arm in response. he yelps loudly in true hyunjin fashion.

"you're actually so gorgeous it maddens me. how are you real," you pinch his cheek slightly, and he only screeches louder. "how are you mine?" you add, poking his nose, and he wraps an arm around your midriff, before throwing you back into the bed, this time hovering over you.

"because you're you, so i can't be anything but yours."

"give me a minute," you sigh, closing your eyes. "i can't handle your words and your hair at the same time."

"you're an idiot," he laughs, and it sounds so genuine, a barely concealed 'thank you' peeking behind the syllables, as he buries his head in your neck. you can't help but smile in response.

"let me look at you," you cradle his face between your hands, your noses brushing against one another. your gaze turns serious as you drink in each feature of his. you love his long hair, love running your hands through it and braiding his locks before you sleep. but his short hair makes his features more prominent, undisturbed by stray strands that never want to remain in place.

you can feel his cheeks warm up underneath your touch, his gaze growing shier under your scrutinization, his head tilting to the side, pressing further onto your palm. nothing about your love has changed, even after three years of dating.

"you really like it?" he asks, tone quiet, lips brushing against your own, velvet meeting velvet.

"i do," you whisper, before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "you know what's insane about you?"

"do tell," he smiles, bopping his nose against your own.

"your face is so goddamn pretty, and yet, it is the least beautiful thing about you."

"i know," he smiles, pecking your cheek, then your wrist in a tenderness that makes your heart drop to your knees. "you're the most beautiful part of me."

it's always the dance racha fics that get me crying in early mornings LIKE SGKEGSKWG

corona borealis, lfx

✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.

✧ w/c 952 <3

✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!

His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters. 

Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky. 

His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him. 

Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away. 

Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy. 

He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there. 

“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own. 

“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,” 

“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story. 

“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”

Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking. 

His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime. 

Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity, 

“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.” 

His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being. 

Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.” 

When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper. 

The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch. 

“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy. 

© LUVTAK 2024

✧ jay bf texts (1)

pairing: bf!jay x reader

warnings: weird, down bad jay, highly suggestive (17+), crack, fluff

a/n: pls accept this as i try and stumble back into the art of writing

i need a jay, man 😞

❅ — ww. day 18: pjs. ✦ ₊˚

day eighteen: ❝ going shopping with jay cause he loves spoiling ❞

⟢ pairing : jay x reader ➖ genre : fluff ➖ requested : no ➖ warnings : no prns used but it is implied that reader visits sephora

glancing around the mall, you looked for yet another clothing store. not that you wanted to spend all of your boyfriend’s money, you just needed a new winter coat.

speaking of him, jay had two bags on each arm as he followed close behind. he’d said he would carry your bags and buy everything you got while you were out today. including food.

and it’s not like you willingly took the offer. he insisted on the fact that he’d spoil you today.

“what’re you looking for, love?” he asked, bringing you out of your frantic glances.

“h&m.”

“h&m?”

“uh huh, i need a new coat.” you said, continuing your search.

he hummed, watching you do your thing.

“honey, i think it’s this way.” he said smiling slightly, pointing straight.

and he was right. there was the bright red ‘H&M’ logo.

“ah, you’re a lifesaver.” you turned, placing your hands on the sides of his face to give him a quick peck.

running towards the store with a smile on your face, you went straight for the coat rack and whatever else you liked.

jay eventually caught up, standing a few inches behind you. he still had a smile on his face, seeing you all excited about certain things made him happy. especially if it meant he could get them for you.

you looked in the store for about ten minutes after picking out the cutest coat you could find.

“is there anything else you want, baby? any other store you wanna go to before we leave?”

“umm.. no, but i do wanna check out sephora again.” you bit your lip, thinking of any other stores to visit but only choosing one.

“if that’s okay with you.”

“of course it’s okay, that’s why i asked.”

“jay, i don’t wanna be the reason you go bankrupt, you know i could spend hours in here.”

“i know. and i also don’t care,” he kissed the side of your head. “if i go bankrupt, at least it’s because of you.”

❅ ❅ ❅

milan’s note: short n sweet 😽

PERM. TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @m1ko-xu @keiipopped (message or comment to be added)

WW. TAGLIST: @keiipopped @luvjongseong (message or comment to be added)

© KAIROOT 2023 — please do not steal, translate, or repost my work.

winter wonderland masterlist

I want to trade pcs with sunoo too, man 😞🙏

idol!enha x idol!reader

enhypen reacting to you asking another member's pc

luna's diary :

there's a typo in sunghoon's, and the screenshot is glitched in an attempt to expand it LMAO SORRY 😭

my whole Tumblr is so glitchy istg blr do better

last post and then i go on hiatus :)

Confessions: Oikawa

(This is connected to another drabble I made in my series 'Unreq Love' so here is context if you'd like the full experience: Oikawa & Bonus)

--

The gym is quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that comes from peace, but the kind that settles like dust in the corners—heavy, still, waiting. The lights are off, but the late afternoon sun filters through the high windows, painting the floor in long strokes of gold. The volleyball net hangs limply between its poles, no longer taut with purpose. There are scuff marks everywhere, like memories burned into the wood—ghosts of spikes, dives, the relentless rhythm of ambition. The echoes of laughter, shouting, the rhythmic squeak of sneakers still seem to hum beneath the silence, like the gym itself refuses to forget.

You spot him immediately.

Oikawa stands near the back wall, his figure backlit by sunlight, facing the net with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. His shoulders are drawn tight, his posture still and unreadable. He doesn’t move when you step in, but he knows it’s you. No one walks into a gym like you do—especially not after hours. Especially not him.

You take your time crossing the floor. Your sneakers squeak a little, but he doesn’t flinch. The air smells like dust and floor polish, and something sharper underneath—like endings. Like goodbye.

“I figured I’d find you here,” you say, coming to a stop beside him.

He huffs, a soft, humorless sound. “You always do.”

“Well,” you shrug, “someone’s gotta make sure you’re not brooding yourself into an existential crisis.”

Finally, he glances at you. There’s a tiredness in his eyes, something far quieter than the version of him everyone else sees. You know it well. You’ve seen it before, behind locker room doors, in the quiet of bus rides home, in the way his voice would sometimes crack when no one was supposed to hear. He looks like someone who's been chasing a shadow for too long and just realized it was always out of reach.

“I thought maybe if I stayed long enough, it’d feel different,” he murmurs, gaze shifting back to the net. “But it still hurts.”

“Of course it hurts,” you reply, arms crossing over your chest. “You gave everything to this place. You bled for it. You obsessed over every drill, every stat sheet, every match. Losing was never going to be painless.”

He chuckles, and it’s low and bitter. “We didn’t even make it to nationals. What was the point of all of it?”

You frown, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Tooru, you seriously need to get your head out of your ass.”

That earns you a sidelong glance, the barest glimmer of amusement.

You soften. “You weren’t just chasing wins. You built something here. A team that trusted you. A legacy. People are going to remember you—not because of a scoreboard, but because you made them better. You made them believe. You pushed them to be more.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but his jaw tics. He always does that when he’s trying not to feel something. The weight of three years rests on his shoulders like armor that no longer serves him.

“And what about you?” he asks suddenly, turning to face you more fully. “You stuck by me through everything. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You scoff, leaning back on your heels. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now, Tooru.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. You think I followed you around like a lost puppy for three years because I enjoyed your tantrums and diva moments?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Maybe a little?”

“God, you’re insufferable.” You shake your head, but your voice loses its edge. “I stayed because you were worth it. Because you’re more than volleyball. You always have been. Even when you were too busy being dramatic to see it.”

The silence that falls between you is thick with years of shared glances, missed chances, and words left unspoken. The light shifts across the floor, turning everything gold like the last flicker of a day that tried its best.

You don’t mean to say it. Not like this. Not when he’s already unraveling.

You glance at him again, then down at your hands. Your voice comes out low, more to yourself than to him. “God, I can’t avoid this, can I?”

But it’s been sitting in your chest for too long, and something about the way the light hits his face—the rawness there, the quiet ache—makes it impossible to keep in.

“I love you.”

His head snaps toward you, eyes wide. “...What?”

You inhale slowly, like that’ll steady the thundering in your chest. “I said I love you. I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met. Since you made that dumb joke during orientation and somehow managed to trip over your own feet.”

Your voice wavers slightly, but you push through. “I thought it was just a crush. Something stupid. But it never went away. Through every win, every loss, every time you walked into a room and lit it up like you didn’t even know—through all of it, I kept falling. I knew every version of you—the charming captain, the insecure overthinker, the friend who stayed behind after practice to help pick up stray balls—and I still fell.”

You swallow hard, heart aching in your chest. “And I wasn’t going to tell you. I didn’t think I had the right to. I thought I’d be a distraction, or worse—just another person you’d feel responsible for. But standing here with you, watching you look at that net like it still owes you something... I couldn’t walk away without telling you. Because it’s not just about volleyball. Not for me. Not when it comes to you.”

You take a step back, the burn of embarrassment creeping up your neck, your voice quieter now. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to get it out of my system.”

You turn, ready to bolt before you make a bigger fool of yourself—but before your foot even hits the line, his hand wraps around your wrist.

You freeze.

His grip isn’t desperate, but it’s firm—anchoring. When you look back, he’s already there—closer than you thought, close enough that you can see the flicker of emotion dancing in his eyes. His breath is uneven. So is yours.

His gaze lingers on your face, moving from your eyes to your mouth, then back again, as if trying to piece together something he should’ve realized long ago. You see it hit him all at once—the memories, the missed moments, the way you’ve always been right there. His shoulders loosen like something inside him’s finally cracking open.

His hand moves slowly to your face, tentative but gentle, and his thumb brushes against your cheek like it’s something fragile he’s afraid to break. His fingers tremble just slightly, and the warmth of his palm grounds you in place.

“How did I never see you?” he breathes, and it’s not a question meant for you. It’s a confession all on its own, shaped by regret and wonder.

Then he kisses you.

Soft at first, hesitant—like he’s asking permission.

Then again—deeper, fuller, with the kind of reverence that comes from finally seeing someone who’s been standing in the light all along. His hand curves behind your neck, the other still holding your wrist like he's afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

And for once, Oikawa doesn’t say a single word.

He just pulls you closer, holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, and lets the silence speak for itself.

In that quiet, there is no loss. No disappointment. No game that slipped through trembling fingers.

There’s just you.

And it’s enough.

♡ ꒱ bad decisions 𓂃 ᗢᘏᓗ

pairing: ex boyfriend!jongseong x afab!reader

genre: fluff, exes to lovers, slight angst

summary: your best friend, who is your ex boyfriend returns to town and offers to help you cook for Thanksgiving. What if his only intention wasn't to cook and he misses you too much to not kiss you?

word count: 1.2k

warnings: kissing — making out sort of, could be called slightly suggestive

a/n: Hi hi, seeing how bomb Jay looked the other day made me crave writing for him so here it is 🥹 thank you for your support on my previous works, please don't forget to give feedback since it's highly appreciated here!! Please enjoy 💖

"I think we should just give up, to be honest." You broke your silence, wiping the droplets of sweat that was starting to form on your forehead.

You were frustrated and tired, definitely regretting your decision of inviting everyone over to your place for the upcoming Thanksgiving.

What were you thinking? You weren't even confident in your cooking.

"We're a little bit too late in this to give up, don't you think, sweetheart?" Your bestfriend, Jay, responded to you, still holding the knife in his hands as he kept cutting the ingredients for your planned course of meals.

Being the angel he is, he offered to come help you cook, only because he missed being with you in the kitchen, just like the old days.

You sighed, having flashbacks of your previous relationships status with him once he briefly turned your way, giggling adorably when he noticed the familiar grumpy look on your face.

Same as he did a year ago, maybe he wasn't so changed after all, you thought, since the look in his eyes were still the same.

Filled with nothing but love, shinning for you.

"Just bare with me for thirty minutes until I'm done cutting these .." he suggested, ".. then we can take a break and rest, I can even massage your back, okay?"

You simply nodded as you stared at his figure from behind, unable to stop yourself from having deja vu's, which didn't help you focus on the food before you that was waiting to be cooked.

You missed him and it was really hard to ignore when he was this close, yet not close enough to you at the same time.

Just a year ago, the guy who has been your best friend since the age of 12 opened up to you about his feelings, asking you out to be his girlfriend after all those years of gathering his courage up.

Luckily for him, you were sharing the same feelings, which led you both to the best 4 months of your lives as each other's partners on the following short period of time.

It was all perfect; you were living together, about the finish collage together, had so many plans and dreams that you shared since the day you met in the playground when you two were only 7 years old.

But it all crumbled into million pieces when Jay had to move to live abroad, in America, due to family problems.

You knew each other too well to fake the "we can work this out despite the distances" crap, since neither of you believed in long distance relationships, not at all.

So, that was how your relationship come to an unfortunate end, without a real closure cause none of you let the other one go till the last moment, till the moment he stepped into that plane and flew away.

Flew away and left nothing behind.

It's been a year after his leave, a year that passed by with none of you daring to contact the other, and he was back.

He was back for you actually, but the problems was that, he couldn't man up to tell you that just yet.

The aftermath of leaving the love of his life behind was worse than Jay ever imagined, even breathing became hard for him every day he spent not hearing from you.

It just wasn't working for him, not without you.

So, after maybe trillions of arguments and deep talks with his family, he managed to set himself free, to come back here — to come back to you, his home.

It hasn't even been a month since he was back in town, and admittedly, it was hard to adjust back to his presence, but not harder than when he left.

You just had to keep reminding yourself that he wasn't your boyfriend but just a friend now, your best friend, like the old days.

Thankfully, you had other stuff to distract yourself with from him being present again, such as getting hired for your dream job, which was the main reason why you wanted to host the Thanksgiving this year.

It was a well intended idea but considering your lazy personality, maybe it wasn't the best choice you made, and plus, adding up the struggle you had with having Jay around you, it felt nothing other than a recklessly made decision.

But that seemed to be your new vibe, being reckless I mean, cause there you where staring at the thin thread of blood that was running down from your index finger, blinking your eyes a few times in confusion.

"Ouch," You let out, feeling the sting on the tip of your finger, holding it under water with a rush.

"Are you okay?"

Jay ran to you with worried eyes, instinctly placing his hands on yours as he somewhat hugged you from behind.

"Did you cut yourself?"

"Yeah but it's not big,"

"Where's the first aid kit—"

"Jay calm down," you grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to yourself as you turned off the tap. "See, it can barely be called a cut," you said, showing him your hand, "a bandaid will do, don't worry, okay?"

He nodded as response, reaching the drawer behind you to take out a bandaid for your finger. That's where you both kept them, before he moved out, of course.

A hint of warmth spread through his whole body when he noticed that you didn't change the place of anything, including the kitchen tools and even the bandaids, his heart suddenly started to beat out of his chest with the thought of you still having feelings for him of a sort.

"No, let me." He objected once you reached to took the bandaid from him, not allowing you since he wanted to put it on himself, standing in front of you while you were leaning against the counter, with no more then a few inches existing between your bodies.

You cleared your throat, feeling overwhelmed by the proximity as he was wrapping the bandaid around the tip of your finger carefully, his lips formed into a cute pout that you loved to kiss so much.

That thought became even more prominent once he looked up at you with loving eyes, holding your injured hand in his soft palms.

"Jay—" you whispered when he placed his forehead against yours, stepping impossibly closer to you, his hands now resting on the both sides of your hips.

"Hm?"

"We s-shouldn't," You stuttered, eyes focused on his plump lips, "this is bad."

The contrast of your words and your actions made Jay chuckle, as he tilted his head while pushing his face to yours, the tip of his nose gently brushing past yours.

He closed his eyes, licking his lips before finally pressing them onto yours, a small whimper escaping from his mouth due to the contact he was craving to feel for a year.

He dug his nails onto your skin over your clothes, pressing his body on you as his lips fervently moved against yours, dancing under a messy kiss with so much love and compassion.

You were panting when he broke the kiss to stop himself from going even further, his longing for you turning into a burning lust the more he felt your hands holding on his body, your delicate touches flipping a switch that he didn’t know existed in him.

"Maybe," he mummbled, pecking the corner of your lips before locking his eyes on yours, "but what if this is a good kind of bad, hm y/n?"

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when you don’t say “i love you” back to bakugou.

Bakugou says, “I love you,” every time he’s about to leave the house without you. It’s something that he got from his father, and to put it simply, he got influenced.

He’s about to finish putting on his hero gear. His gauntlets were already in place, his boots laced, and his mask pushing his hair away from his face—kind of like how he wore it during high school whenever it wasn’t necessary to wear it properly.

And there you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor without a care in the world.

Books were scattered around you in piles, organized by some system only you seemed to understand. You were focused as you murmured to yourself quietly, comparing sizes, genres, and authors, completely absorbed in your task of organizing the living room’s bookshelf.

“I’m heading out.”

“Mmhm,” you replied absentmindedly, holding up two books and tilting your head as if the slight angle would help you decide which belonged on the top shelf.

Bakugou frowned, his brow twitching. “Oi, did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes,” you said, still not looking at him. “Be careful, Katsuki.”

He let out a huff, running a hand through his hair. He was used to you getting lost in your little projects, but this felt different (were you playing a prank on him?). He stepped closer, crouching down beside you to meet your eye level. “Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone,” he said, softer this time.

“I won’t.”

Still not looking at him. Unbelievable.

To Bakugou, it felt like being thrown through a building and back—and he wasn’t even exaggerating because it actually happened to him once! And he could definitely conclude that the feeling’s similar when you’re ignoring (not paying that much attention to) him.

Bakugou watched you for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he sighed. “I love you,” he murmured, his tone quieter.

“Uh-huh. Have a good day at work.”

Just as Bakugou was about to stand back up, he blinked, the words sinking in slowly. His brow furrowed as the realization hit him—he’s so confused.

You didn’t say it back.

“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you—because you didn’t even hear him.

He huffed, taking the book you were inspecting as he let your hands fall on his arms instead.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” you glanced at him, your expression innocent as if nothing unusual had happened.

“You didn’t say it back,” he said, his tone sharp, though there was a hint of disbelief beneath the irritation.

The audacity you had. After almost always saying “I love you” to him to the point where Bakugou realized he couldn’t go on his day without hearing it, you decide to not say it now?

What’s next? You’re going to tell him you want a divorce? He’s overreacting, he thinks.

“Say what back?”

He clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing faintly. “I said I love you, dumbass.”

Realization dawned on your face, followed by a sheepish smile. That smile—the one that managed to win him over—it’s so infectious it might as well be a cause of an epidemic.

“Oh! Katsuki, I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“Tch,” he muttered, looking away from you. “Yeah, I noticed.”

You leaned closer to where he was crouching, squeezing his forearm softly, your touch light and apologetic. “You know I love you too, right?”

He side-eyed you, his scowl deepening, though it was clear his annoyance was fading.

“Doesn’t count if I gotta remind you,” Bakugou grumbled—almost pouting.

Your laughter bubbled out, so familiar that Bakugou was reminded where his home is, as you then held his face gently—then squishing his cheeks so that his lips are puckered. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “I’ll make sure to say it next time, promise.”

“Better keep thath promish,” he muffled out.

“I will,” you assured him, loosening your hold as you gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Strawberry-flavored chapstick, one of Bakugou’s favorites whenever you kiss him.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He tried to maintain his frown, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as you kissed him once more. “You better.”

“Now go save the day, my hero.”

With a sigh, Bakugou leaned away from you, his posture reluctant to even leave you. He made his way to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder one last time. You were looking at him, blowing him lots of kisses with the emphasized “mwah!”

“Don’t get so caught up in your books that you forget I exist,” he tells you.

You smiled, nodding along. “Never.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too! Text me when you get to your agency; love you lots!” That’s better.

As he closed the door behind him, Bakugou shook his head, muttering to himself, “Ignored for some damn books. Unbelievable.”

Still, despite his grumbling, the faint smile on his face said he wasn’t really mad.

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