#oil and sand on canvas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amhrosina · 1 year

Text

The Artist and the Sea (Namor x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

Requests are open - slowing working my way through them!

Part 2

A/N: Hello Nonnie! Thank you for requesting! It inspired me, and I couldn’t not write it as soon as I saw it. Also, let's pretend we can't see the spears being pointed at Namor in this gif lol. (Again, if any of the Yucatec Maya to English translations are off, please let me know!)

Request: tbh it's my first time requesting something regarding the marvel fandom but can i request a namor x fem reader where they meet at the beach when the reader is painting the landscape of the ocean? if you don't understand or don't want to write this, it's okay <333

Summary: You meet a stranger on the beach who takes an interest in your paintings, which somehow puts you in the position of painting the King of Talokan’s portrait.

(Warnings: not a lot?, the kisses gets a little steamy, Namor is a little touch starved, WING TOUCHING!!!!!, no smut (nonnie didn’t specify and I didn’t want to deliver hardcore smut to someone who didn’t want it lol), reader doesn’t speak Namor’s language but loves the nicknames anyways, I think that’s it???)

Translations:

ki'ichpam artista – beautiful artist

pétalo – petal

ch'ujuk ch'úupalo' – sweet girl

princesa – princess

The light reflecting off the ocean was a blinding blue, and you had been trying to blend your paint together to mimic the color for 15 minutes already. You grunted with displeasure as your paintbrush stained three shades too dark. Today was a day for painting. The wind wasn’t blowing too hard, the weather was the perfect mix of cool, but not too cold, and the tides were relatively consistent. When you’d walked out onto your back porch earlier this morning and laid your eyes on the little slice of the beach you owned, it almost felt like an invitation.

Now, you were regretting your decision to lug all of your paint supplies out of your tiny studio and down the beach. You rolled your eyes, tossing the palette down onto the old blanket you used to keep any stray paint from spilling onto the beach. You dipped a clean brush into the tan color you had mixed earlier and began working on creating the right texture for the sand.

The beach was mostly empty today, but even during tourist season, there wasn’t much foot traffic this far down the beach. Your grandmother’s house was a small, but cozy cabin-like home, nestled in a small cove that only locals knew about. You had spent many summers here, tucked away in your little slice of heaven, painting anything and everything you saw. When your grandmother had passed away, the deed of the house was transferred to you, and suddenly you were a homeowner.

You had transformed the inside after moving in, turning the office into an art studio, and transforming the bedroom into a library. Your bedroom, if you could call it that, was actually the living room with tapestries hung up as makeshift walls. You didn’t mind, and neither did anyone else. Or they wouldn’t, you thought, if anyone happened to come by.

You sat back on your stool, looking between the sand around you and your canvas. The texture was coming along nicely, and you grinned at your work. Landscapes had never been your forte – most of your commissions were oil portraits – but you had been working on expanding your skills over the last few months.

“You are an artist?”

An unfamiliar voice startled you from your concentration, and you furrowed your brow at the intrusion. You weren’t one to hog the beach, but you’re clearly a busy woman that didn’t want to be bothered. You leaned around the canvas, intent on staying silent and ignoring the man, but did a double take when you made eye contact with the man.

He was undoubtably beautiful, and definitely not a local. His body was adorned with beautifully carved artifacts draping across his chest and shoulders, and the only actual article of clothing he wore was a pair of green shorts. You glanced down at the light flutter at his ankles, which had small wings sprouting from the sides of them. You brought your eyes back up, not wanting him to catch you staring, but the stranger hadn’t taken his eyes off you since you’d acknowledged him.

“I’m a...what?” You asked, blinking. You’d been so distracted by his sudden appearance that you’d forgotten the question he’d asked.

“You are an,” he nodded to the canvas in front of you, “artist. Yes?”

“Yes.” You nodded, standing from your stool. “But I am not very good at landscapes.”

He walked around you, facing the canvas and looking over it with a prompt shake of his head.

“This is beautiful. You are very good.”

“Oh.” You mumbled, ringing your hands together. “Thanks.”

You could feel your cheeks heating at his compliment, and you didn’t want to know why his compliments were getting such a rise out of you. This man was a complete stranger, and his opinions on your art should not have gotten that reaction out of you.

“You are not reacting to me the way I thought you would.”

You stared at your half-finished canvas harder, refusing to look in his eyes again, as you mulled over his statement. Yes, this was definitely the strangest encounter you’d ever experienced, but you lived in a universe where Avengers seemed to be popping up in every city, so the idea of a man from the sea appearing on your beach wasn’t as farfetched as it sounded. He was clearly a powerful being, but you weren’t afraid of him, or his power for that matter.

“How did you think I would react?” You finally asked, peeking at him in your peripheral.

“I am not sure. This is my first time approaching a surface dweller like this.”

“Surface dweller?” You scoffed, finally meeting his gaze.

He had a small smile on his face. “You dwell...amongst the surface. Do you not?”

“I’m assuming you dwell amongst something else?” Your eyes flicked towards the sea and then back at him.

“You assume correctly.” He dipped his head in a nod, adjusting his stance to face you. “I am Namor.”

You tested the name on your tongue, repeating it under your breath. Your gaze ran across his broad chest, trying to gauge the colors of paint you would mix to paint the golden-brown hues of his skin.

“Can I paint you, Namor?”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. He was just so pretty, and the artist in you couldn’t deny how beautiful the painting would turn out.

“You want to paint me?” He furrowed his brows, but the grin on his face grew slightly.

“Yes,” you responded quickly, nodding your head with vigor, “I would like to paint you.”

He was silent for a few moments, before shrugging his shoulders in a very human motion. “Okay, ki'ichpam artista. You may paint me.”

Your portrait of Namor would take you a few weeks, maybe even a month to complete. You wanted to highlight his strength and the unbridled power he possessed, but you also wanted to emphasize his beauty. Namor would have to visit you many times for you to get every detail just right, and the thought of that sent an excited flurry of butterflies through your stomach. You thought about taking a photo of him, to speed the process along, but quickly decided against it. It’s not every day that a girl gets to sit with a God, let alone paint one.

The first visit was mostly a sketch session, and you spent the vast majority of the time studying Namor’s features, sketching a few lines, and then erratically erasing different areas of the canvas. Namor sat patiently, watching you mumble under your breath as you captured the angles of his face. He wasn’t used to being studied so closely but being under your careful eye didn’t make him uncomfortable.

“Why did you become an artist?” Namor asked as you looked between your canvas and his face.

“Because I love art.” You murmured, squinting at the line you’d just drawn.

Namor smiled, and you ignored the fluttery feeling in your chest.

“I know that pétalo. I meant, why do you love art?”

You glanced up at him, studying the way his lips curled when he smiled. You began sketching again before you answered him.

“Art brings people together, you know? That’s super cliché, but I guess it’s true.” You shrugged. “Languages are complex. They cause confusion and barrier us from other cultures. But art is a form of communication that doesn’t have those boundaries. Everyone can look at a painting and understand it at its very core, even if they interpret it differently.”

Namor nodded, leaning back on his hands in the sand. You had a sneaky feeling that not many people got to see Namor in this relaxed state and took a mental picture of it so you could sketch it later.

“You have a very pretty way of saying things pétalo.”

You blushed, focusing on the angle of his pointed ears on your canvas.

It wasn’t until your third session with Namor that he began opening up about his home in Talokan. He told you about his people, and how most of the world didn’t know of their existence due to his vigorous efforts to protect them. You had an overwhelming sense that Namor’s pride lay in the ruling of his people, and that he would do anything to protect them.

While he described his homelands to you, you snuck another peek at his ankles. You’d have to ask him for a closer look eventually. The only way you could do them justice in your painting was by touching them, but you didn’t know how to ask.

“You can...touch them, if you need to, pétalo.”

You looked up, stiffening with guilt. You didn’t know what to say to that.

“You cannot hurt me. I promise.” He nudged his foot out, urging you to touch them.

You nodded slowly, softly setting your paintbrush down and standing from your seat. You kneeled down beside him, leaving a trail of featherlight touches along the inside of one of the wings. The texture was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you couldn’t help the second stroke you left across the back of the wing.

Namor inhaled sharply and you pulled your hand away, looking up at him with concern.

“Did I hurt you?” you asked, squeezing your hands together.

“No, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'. They are very...sensitive.”

“Oh. Oh.” You stood up, swiftly turning to walk back towards your canvas, when his hand lightly wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.

“It’s okay, pétalo. No one has touched them in many years. It was a feeling I had forgotten, that’s all.” His eyes shone bright with ease, and the soft smile on his lips was comforting.

You nodded, returning his smile. You noticed that he hadn’t let go of your wrist, even though it was clear you weren’t moving away from him anytime soon.

“Were you born with them?” You asked, looking up at his tall frame.

“Yes. And these, too.” He pointed at his ears, and you couldn’t help it when you reached forward, running a fingertip along their edge.

“Beautiful.” You murmured under your breath, leaning in to get a closer look. Everything about him was beautiful, and you were finding it harder and harder to breathe when you were this close to him.

Namor stumbled back, facing the ocean with such speed that you stumbled forward in his absence.

“I must go. Something is not right at home. I am sorry to leave so quickly. It was just getting good. I will see you again, next week, pétalo.”

You watched him walk back into the water, washing away with the tide, and just like that, he was gone.

The fourth session you were supposed to have with Namor was nearly ruined by a terrible storm brewing on the coast. You’d startled awake to the loud clap of thunder and watched through your window as the ocean violently responded. The rain came soon after, and just as you convinced yourself you wouldn’t be seeing Namor today, his powerful body trudged out of the water and onto the beach.

You met him at your front door, ushering him inside as the storm raged above his head. He stood in your foyer/living room/bedroom and looked around. You froze with the realization that this was the first time he had entered your house. It was strange, you thought, seeing someone so ethereal surrounded by the familiar, but common, walls of your home. You hadn’t done the dishes the night before, and your bed was unmade, but his attention had been snagged by the light coming from your makeshift studio.

“In here, then?” He pointed, gaze returning to you.

“Yeah. I’ll be in there in a minute. I just have to get my sketches.”

As soon as he rounded the corner, you bolted forward, straightening the covers on your messy bed and throwing dirty laundry into a pile in the corner. You ran your fingers through your hair, and finally joined him in the room a few moments later.

He was hunched over, looking at the dozens of sketches you’d drawn of him. You face palmed and internally groaned as you realized that you hadn’t put them away before inviting him inside. This was an embarrassing secret, to say the least, but you couldn’t stop drawing him. Every time he sent you a new look or moved his body in a way that captured your attention, the urge to draw it in your sketchbook wouldn’t leave your mind until you finally gave in and sketched it out.

“You are very talented, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'.” he said, standing to his full height.

“Thanks.” You mumbled through your hands, trying to hide the fact that you were blushing, again. You shifted your focus to the painting, which was nearing its completion. “I’m almost done with the painting. I think after today I’ll just have to do minor touchups.”

“That is...wonderful, pétalo.” He plopped into one of the chairs you had set up around the room. You moved toward him and reached your hands out, intending to turn his head the way you needed it to finish the painting, but you hesitated. Your arms were frozen, stretched out in front of you as you met his heated gaze.

He shifted forward, keeping his gaze on you as he slowly leaned into your outstretched palms. Your hands curled into hair, and he shuttered, eyes closing as he forcefully pushed his head further into your hold. You tried to ignore the butterflies his slight movement had spurred in your stomach, but the soft groan he let out as you ran your fingers through his hair ruined any chance you had of controlling your blood pressure.

“It has been...a very long time since I’ve been touched so gently, princesa.”

You swallowed, unsure what to do next, but he was quick to hoist you into his lap. You traced his jaw and couldn’t help but glance at his lips as you met his gaze. He wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you closer to his body.

“I did not mean to fall for you so entirely, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo', but you have not left my mind since I saw you painting on the beach.”

His voice was soft, but his hands tightened around your waist as he spoke. He had to physically restrain himself from pulling your lips down to meet his. But he would wait, a lifetime if he had to, for a sign of consent from you before crushing his lips against yours.

“I finished the painting last night.” You revealed, choking out a laugh. “I just wanted one more day with you before you left.”

Namor let out a deep laugh, throwing his head back against the back of his chair. “What were you planning on doing all day, princesa?”

You groaned, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “I was going to pretend to paint for a few hours before showing it to you.”

“If you wanted to spend more time with me, princesa, you only had to ask.” Namor was grinning wide, running his fingers along the curve of your waist.

“Don’t you have important kingly things to attend to?”

“Yes, but nothing that can’t be rearranged, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'. You are also important to me.”

You smiled, cradling his face between your hands. His expression turned molten as you leaned into him, parting your lips in anticipation. He cupped the back of your head, pulling you the rest of the way down to meet his lips. The kiss was both sweet and lustful. His tongue dominated yours, begging for more as he ran his hands over your waist.

He pulled away from you abruptly, squeezing your waist. You were about to crawl off of his lap and begin profusely apologizing to him, but his words stopped you.

“You said you finished the painting. Can I see it?”

“Of course.” You jumped off of his lap and ran to the closet you’d hidden it in, suddenly excited to reveal it to him. You’d been keeping it a secret until it was finished, and to say you were eager to hear his thoughts on it was an understatement.

You set it on your canvas stand and stepped back, allowing him to fully see the painting. It had come out better than you’d hoped, and you’d known by the time you were halfway finished that it would be your best portrait yet.

He leaned in, marking the tiny details you’d spent hours polishing, and smiled.

“Ch'ujuk ch'úupalo', I have seen many paintings of me over the years, but none come close to this. You are so talented, princesa.”

“Do you really like it?” You asked, clutching your hands into your chest.

“I love it, my ki'ichpam artista. If I could take it with me and hang it for all my people to see, I would.”

“Really?” You squeaked, trying not to tear up at his declaration.

“Do you like it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I think it’s my favorite painting I’ve ever done.” You breathed, glancing at it.

“You should keep it, ch'ujuk ch'úupalo'. Hang it in your home as a reminder of me, for when I have to attend to those kingly duties.”

You thought it over for a moment, and then smiled. “Okay.”

Parting with that painting was something you’d been dreading since you’d started it, along with the idea of not seeing Namor on a regular basis, but he’d just relieved your doubts in one sentence. You got to keep the painting and you’d be seeing him again.

“Okay.” He repeated, pulling at your waist until you were situated in front of him. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your lips, and you finally gave into those damned butterflies, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Tag List (Click here to join!):

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @thatlesbosimp @legocity2 @softclue @violet-19999 @uwiuwi @omgsuperstarg @purpleetou @raeluvsbloodline @historygeekgueen @kneelarhmstrung @euphoricjupiter @kneelarhmstrung @ethereal-athalia @quackson03 @johfaam @messymissy

2K notes · View notes

wheeboo · 8 months

Text

meet cute: the pier | yoon jeonghan

SYNOPSIS. in which you choose to go to the pier for a solo date, not expecting to capture a cute man in the middle of your photograph. PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE: fluff, meet cute, first meetings, implied college au WARNINGS. none WORD COUNT. 2.2k

notes: welcome to your meet cute with jeonghan!

← MEET CUTE MASTERLIST for the 1k celebration !

...the pier!

You barely remember the last time you had went to the pier. Just thinking about the times you climbed down to shore as the salty breeze messes your hair brings a wave of nostalgia of the summers you spent building sandcastles and collecting seashells on the white sands. A lot has probably changed since you last went, and the thought of bringing your camera along with you makes your heart swell with excitement.

Rummaging through your belongings to find your camera, you feel your fingers brush against the cool metal and smooth leather of the familiar device. The anticipation grows as you turn it on and test its functions, ensuring to see that it was charged enough before strapping it securely around your neck.

With your camera now hanging comfortably around your neck, you set out on your solo date to the pier. The weather is more than perfect, a fresh, gentle breeze carrying the scent of salt, and you notice you might be able to capture the perfect picture of the sunset gracing the horizon if you linger for just some time longer.

As the pier comes into view, the small, calm waves hitting the weathered planks below beckons you to come closer. The wood creaks beneath your feet as you walk, and you notice the changes that have taken place since your last visit, which was... some time long ago𑁋perhaps a few years back? You hardly remember.

New shops and cafés have been added around the area, their vibrancy adding a touch of modernity to the rustic allure of the pier. You see children run past you with large sticks of candy floss and ice cream, their laughter and giggles carried away by the wind. Couples stroll by holding hands and stealing affectionate glances under the dimly-lit overhead lamps.

Deciding to treat yourself to a snack first, you approach a nearby churros stand, drawn by the sweet aroma of freshly fried dough and cinnamon sugar being prepared with care. The line isn't too long, and as you wait your turn, you can't help but overhear snippets of conversations from the people around you𑁋like potential vacation plans for the next year, a few children whining about how they don't want to leave just yet, and shared moments of laughter.

"Uh, just one set of churros, please," You tell the worker and watch as they expertly maneuver the churros in the hot oil. The sizzle and the delicious smell make your mouth water.

Soon enough, the golden-brown treats are handed over to you in small bag, and you express your thank you, have a good day before casually strolling away from the stand with your churros in hand, feasting quietly on the way down the pier.

You politely greet some people as they briefly meet eyes with yours, a faint smile to your face as you quietly trudge to the end of the pier. The sun only continues to lower in your view, a contented sigh leaving your lips as the right amount of sweetness hits your tastebuds.

Finding a peaceful spot away from the crowds, you settle down on a wooden bench to capture the sunset beginning to unfold before you. Like a canvas, the colours in the sky blend seamlessly𑁋hues of pink, orange, and yellow painting a scene that seems almost otherworldly.

Setting your now eaten bag of churros to the side, you grasp your camera around your neck and turn it on before bringing the lens up to your eye. The beauty of the sunset comes into focus, each shade and hue illuminated by the descending sun. Your fingers move expertly over the camera's controls, adjusting settings to capture the perfect set of pictures.

Click after click, you freeze time, commemorating each passing moment as the sun dips lower into the horizon and the sky transforms.

Lowering your camera back down, you click through the countless photos you've taken. And its within this moment that you notice a small figure perched at the very end of the pier in some of your photographs. When you bring the camera back up to your eyes, you see that it's a man. His back is facing you, seemingly leaning over the wooden railing in thought and gazing out towards the vast ocean waters, with strands of his dark hair being blown by the wind.

Intrigued, you adjust your camera's zoom lens to capture a shot of his silhouette against the backdrop of the sunset. The camera clicks before you can think, capturing the moment without hesitation. When you bring your camera back down, your mouth opens in pure awe. The result is stunning, like a solitary figure lost in contemplation; it's a perfect addition to your collection of candid photographs.

You decide to take more pictures, finding your camera lowering ever so slightly after every few pictures to the mysterious man, even though you were more focused on taking pictures of the sky. But you can't shake off your curious thoughts.

However, as your camera momentarily slips out of focus, the man starts to turn around unbeknownst to you. You lower your camera back down in frustration to adjust the settings, and when you bring it back up to your eye, you're met with a surprise𑁋the man is now facing you.

Well, not exactly, more like facing past you?

It's with this that you get a glimpse of his face in the camera. Though a bit blurry, you're able to somewhat make out his features. His hair had become tousled from the wind, a small smile to his face that pronounces his cheekbones. He's cute, is the first thing that pops into your head.

Even if he wasn't looking at you, you immediately bring your camera down in guilt, a small blush crawling up your face. Your heart races as you realise you've accidentally captured an image of his face. You didn't mean to, and you certainly didn't expect to be struck by how handsome he is. Embarrassment and curiosity wash over you as you glance in his direction, seeing that he had turned back around to face out to the water again.

You bite your bottom lip conflictingly. On one hand, you feel a bit intrusive for capturing his image (and the other candid pictures) without his knowledge. On the other hand, there's a spark of intrigue𑁋a small voice inside you encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone and strike up a conversation.

The decision lingers in your thoughts, and after a few moments, you finally take a deep breath and muster your courage to stand up. You hang your camera back around your neck and throw away your empty bag of churros before slowly making your way to the end of the pier.

You listen to the waves hitting the shore below, hoping that it will settle the fast pace of your heart. It does just a little bit, but when you find yourself just a comfortable distance away from him, it begins to quicken once again.

And then you clear your throat. "Um... excuse me?"

Your voice catches his attention, and you watch as he turns around and locks eyes with you, which makes all your words swallow back nervously in your throat.

"I... I happened to have taken a few photos back there and noticed you were in some of them," You continue awkwardly. "and I was wondering if that's okay with you?"

His gaze holds a mix of curiosity and amusement as he listens to the way you stumble over your words. Then his lips curl into a playful grin.

"Ah, you mean you've been secretly photographing me this whole time?" There's a cheeky tone to his voice as he asks.

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, and you nod sheepishly. "Well, uh... not just you, I was trying to take pictures of the sunset, but yes, sort of𑁋I'm really sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to invade your privacy or anything."

He chuckles softly. "It's completely okay. Don't worry about it."

Some embarrassment still tingles at your skin, but his carefree attitude eases your nerves away. "If you want, I can delete them."

He tilts his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Actually, I'm quite flattered. Wouldn’t want that hard work to go to waste." Then a subtle smirk crosses his lips. "It's not everyday that you turn into someone else's muse, you know?"

You can't help but smile at his response as you settle right next to him, letting an arm stretch over the railing as if you were commanding the water below. "Well, I'm glad you're not mad about it."

He looks out towards the water, the last remnants of the setting sun casting a warm glow on his features. A brief silence settles between as you turn on your camera once again to catch a few more photos, yet you feel the man's eyes on you, and it's enough to make your hands feel a bit unsteady.

Breaking the silence, he finally speaks, "Since you've taken some photos of me, would you... like some taken of you too?"

You swear you nearly lose grip on your camera as you lower it back down and turn to face him. He gestures a look to the camera in your hands.

"I... Really? You'd do that?" You ask, some reluctance holding you back.

His smile deepens. "Of course, I would. Besides, it's only fair, right? It's just us here, anyway."

The last bit of his words make your heart race. You've always been more comfortable behind the camera, but there's something about him that puts you at ease.

With a shy nod, you hand him your camera. He takes it from your grasp, your fingers lightly brushing against each other, and turns it so the lens was facing you before taking a few steps backward. As he adjusts the settings, you find yourself stealing glances at his concentrated expression.

Finally, he looks up from the camera's viewfinder, gaze locking with yours. "Ready?"

You nod, trying to suppress any lingering nervousness with a small smile as he raises the camera and starts capturing some photos with a click.

"Relax your shoulders a bit. Perfect. Now look out toward the water. That's it, you're doing great," he instructs, but you don't catch the incredibly quiet pretty that leaves his lips.

As the camera clicks, you feel the awkwardness seep away. With each shot, you feel a little more comfortable in your own skin. You swear he's taking more photos than you did of him, but you don't seem to mind that much.

"Turn your head a bit to the left. Great, now look back at me with one last smile," he suggests, and you follow his directions willingly, the natural curves of your lips turning into a soft smile.

You steal a few glances at him while he works. His focus is unwavering, eyes fixed on you through the lens. It's a strange feeling—being the centre of someone's attention like this𑁋but with him, it feels surprisingly comfortable.

"Done." He lowers the camera back down. "Want to see the photos?"

You roll your eyes playfully, having the urge to counter his teasing from before. "Well, it's my camera, you know."

He chuckles at your response and hands the camera back to you, and you eagerly scroll through the photos he took. And... they're beautiful𑁋capturing moments of candor and smiles you hardly believe to be you. It's amazing how he managed to make you feel so relaxed in front of the camera.

"Wow, these... these are really good," You say in awe.

He shrugs modestly. "The camera loves you. You're quite a natural."

You feel your cheeks warm up to his compliment, and you mindlessly scroll through all the photos you've taken today, all while his gaze lingers on you for a few moments.

"I'm Jeonghan, by the way."

Tearing your eyes away from the camera, you look back up at him warmly. "I'm Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeats your name wholeheartedly, as if savouring the sound of it on his lips. "Well, Y/N, may I accompany you back down the pier? It's getting late."

This makes you look around to notice that the pier was indeed beginning to empty out of people, and you turn back to Jeonghan with a hint of hope. All it takes is a glance before you both start to make your way back along the pier, the sound of the waves accompanying your steps.

As you walk side by side, the conversation flows effortlessly. You share your hobbies, interests, and the little pieces of your life that bring you joy. You revel the shocked look to his face when you tell him you're not an actual photographer and just an amateur who takes photos as a hobby, revealing you're studying literature while learning he's studying political science.

When you reach the end of the pier, you feel a bittersweet feeling course through you. But just as you're about to voice your thoughts, he beats you to it.

"Would it be too forward of me to ask for your number?"

For the first time, you swear there's a hint of nervousness in his face that makes him more endearing. Your heart flutters as his request hangs in the air.

"Not at all," You reply, your own nervousness mixing with excitement. "I'd really like that, actually."

"Great," Jeonghan grins as he hands you his phone, and you type in your number in his contacts. "because I was hoping to, perhaps... take you out sometime?"

If it was possible for your heart to burst, than that is what you felt that same moment.

"I... I'd love to," You respond, a smile lighting up your face.

"Perfect," he grins. "I'll text you the details."

notes: this ended up a bit longer than i thought, but as u can tell i wrote this while craving churros

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae

event taglist (open) ʚɞ @minhui896 @amxlia-stars @haneulparadx @mina-yoo334 @kyeomyun @kokoiinuts @phenomenalgirl9 @etherealyoungk @april2920 @mewiththemess @hannyoontify @sahazzy @hyneyedfiz

send an ask, reply, or dm to be added to the taglist !

**bold could not be tagged for some reason :(

#wheeboo's 1k event! ༊#kflixnet #k-labels #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader

333 notes · View notes