genre: idol!Seungkwan x Mingyu's bestie!reader, fluff, roadtrip with the boys, just very very wholesome cause I love writing long imagines
a/n: hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed wiriting it!!! u can send me requests for anything u have in mind!!
On a chaotic road trip across Italy with Seventeen, Mingyu is determined to get two of his favourite people together. Between shared van rides, seaside meals, late-night swims, and the boys’ endless meddling, friendship blurs into something deeper. Tension builds until, under the Italian moonlight, the realisation that maybe it wasn’t just friendship all this time.
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Prologue: Operation Boo Mission Briefing
Mingyu was pacing.
Not the distracted, lanky shuffle he usually did when he lost his phone for the fourth time in a day. This was purposeful. Calculated. Like he’d been thinking about something for weeks and had finally cornered the group with no way for them to escape.
The practice room was unusually quiet. The AC hummed steadily, Soonyoung’s sneakers squeaked as he spun circles in his chair, Wonwoo was buried in a book, and Dino doodled absent-minded shapes on a notepad.
Then Mingyu slammed a laminated map of Italy down on the table with such force that even Jihoon looked up.
“Gentlemen,” he declared, eyes gleaming with purpose. “It’s time.”
Dino blinked nervously. “Time for what? …We’re not playing Don’t Lie again, right?”
“A mission.” Mingyu’s voice dropped theatrically. “Maybe the most important mission Seventeen has ever faced.”
Soonyoung gasped like he’d just been cast in an action movie. “We’re saving the world?”
“Better.” Mingyu pointed at them with both hands like finger guns. “We’re saving two idiots from themselves.”
There was a beat of silence— then Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, peeling an orange, unbothered. “Ahhh. This is about them, isn’t it?”
“Bingo.”
The room erupted. Groans, laughter, a few knowing nods, and Vernon’s flat but satisfied: “Finally.”
“They are quite hopeless,” Jihoon muttered, shutting his notebook.
“Hopeless?” Seokmin cackled. “They’re so blind it hurts.”
“And in denial,” Wonwoo added smoothly, which only made the cackling louder.
Mingyu raised a hand, silencing them with a grin as he tapped the map. “Here’s the plan: we road-trip from Sorrento up the coast. We set the mood. We create proximity. And then we let the Italian air do the rest.”
“And maybe… a little jealousy,” Jeonghan said casually, tossing an orange peel into the trash. “Nothing cruel. Just hugs, attention, moments. Make them realise what they’d miss.”
Soonyoung punched the air. “Ohhh, I’m so good at that.”
Seungcheol rubbed his forehead like he's already regretting in on this. “And if that’s not enough?”
Mingyu’s grin turned wicked. “Opportunity. Late-night snacks. Shared seats. Maybe even shared beds. You know… situations.”
“Situations,” Vernon echoed flatly. But the others were already nodding.
Dino, eyes sparkling with mischief, scribbling “Operation Boo” on the corner of the map in giant letters and circled it three times. “This is going to be legendary.”
“Any questions?” Mingyu asked, beaming at the map.
“Yes.” Jihoon clicked his pen shut. “What do we do if it works?”
Mingyu spread his arms wide. “Easy. We pretend we’re surprised.”
Seokmin slung an arm around him. “If this works, we demand a mention in their wedding speeches.”
The laughter rolled through the room, bright and uncontainable.
Italy would be chaos.
But it would also be the perfect opportunity.
The morning sun over Sorrento painted everything in gold — the lemon groves, the tiled rooftops, even the cracked pavement outside the small hotel where thirteen men and one reluctant mission target (you) were being herded toward two oversized vans.
Seungcheol stood like a shepherd with his arms crossed, barking orders in that leader tone that was half-scolding, half-affection. “We’re leaving in five minutes! FIVE. Get your bags in the trunk, get your snacks, and—YAH, KWON SOONYOUNG, PUT THE CHAIR BACK!”
Soonyoung only grinned, holding the hotel’s patio chair like a trophy. “It’s for the vibes, hyung!”
Meanwhile, Mingyu wasn’t helping in the slightest. He had the map in one hand, sunglasses perched low on his nose, and that grin that screamed scheming. He clapped his hands together. “Okay, everyone listen up. Operation—” He caught Seungcheol’s glare and smoothly corrected, “—uh, Operation Roadtrip is officially underway.”
You adjusted the strap of your backpack, watching the circus unfold with equal parts amusement and mild fear. You’d been around the members before—Mingyu had introduced you ages ago, and somewhere along the way Seokmin had even ceremoniously crowned you “Honorary Seventeen.” Over time, it stopped feeling like you were just a friend in their orbit; you were family. They teased you, leaned on you, protected you, and adored you in the way only thirteen brothers could.
But this? A week-long road trip across Italy, crammed into vans, meals shared shoulder to shoulder, nights under the same sky? This was an entirely different level.
“Y/nnie~,” Mingyu sing-songed suddenly, sliding up beside you, “you’re riding with Seungkwan.”
You blinked. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said far too quickly. “Just… seating arrangement logistics.”
“Logistics,” Joshua repeated dryly, hauling a cooler past him.
Mingyu ignored him, lightly grabbing your shoulders and pushing you towards the second row of the van. “Here, best view, most comfortable, great acoustics for singing—”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re suspicious.”
“Me?” His grin widened. “Never.”
And that was how you ended up wedged between a window and Boo Seungkwan, who was already buckling himself in and grinning like he'd won something.
“Hope you’re not the type to drool in your sleep,” he teased, stretching out a little too comfortably.
You narrowed your eyes. “Hope you’re not the type to talk the whole ride.”
“Wow,” he said, hand over his heart, feigning injury. “Already hostile.”
You smirked. “I just call it self-defense.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, but he didn’t push further.
The chatter of the others filled the van—Soonyoung narrating cloud shapes like it was a nature documentary, Dino starting a guessing game, Jeonghan bargaining for “snack taxes,” and Seokmin singing over Jihoon’s carefully curated playlist.
You let your head sink back, letting the chaos of voices blur into background music. Maybe it was the sun streaking warm patterns across your face, the steady rhythm of the van swaying along the road, or the faint scent of clean laundry and citrus coming from Seungkwan—familiar, almost too comforting. Before long, your eyelids grew heavy.
At first, you tried to fight it, shifting against the seat. Then your shoulder brushed his. Warm. Steady. You told yourself you’d just rest for a second.
Then, somewhere between two tunnels, your head tipped and landed lightly on Seungkwan’s shoulder.
He froze, every nerve suddenly aware of the weight of you against him. Then he shifted slightly - careful not to wake you, and letting you rest more comfortably.
When he glanced down, your mouth was parted just a little, a quiet, uneven breath slipping past. A soft snore followed, and despite himself, the corners of his lips tugged upward fondly.
His chest did a strange little flip. He told himself it was nothing. Just a road trip. Just you.
But when Mingyu twisted around in the front seat and shot him a sly wink, Seungkwan’s ears burned red. He scowled back in warning, though the curve tugging at his lips refused to fade.
Step one. Proximity. Completed.
You didn’t wake until the van slowed into a lemon-scented parking lot by the water.
“Sorry,” you murmured, pulling back, trying to smooth your hair.
“It’s okay,” he said, voice a shade lower and eyes glimmering teasingly, “You, uh… drooled a little.”
Your eyes widened. “You’re joking.”
He bit back a laugh. “A little.” A beat. “It was cute.”
You shoved his shoulder; he pretended it hurt and laughed, ears pink.
“Food!” Soonyoung practically launched himself out before the engine even cut, followed by Seokmin shouting, “Last one inside pays!” — though nobody kept track.
The trattoria you stopped for lunch faced a strip of blinding blue sea. Paper menus. Checkered cloth. Sunlight pouring over everything like honey.
You were the first to start fussing over menus, water, and seating. “Hydrate before you dehydrate,” you scolded, sliding bottles toward Dino and Vernon. Then you leaned over to help Jihoon translate part of the menu he was squinting at.
“Honorary Seventeen strikes again,” Joshua teased from across the table, smiling as he watched you hand napkins around like it was second nature.
“Someone has to keep you guys alive,” you shot back lightly, but the warmth in your tone gave you away.
The boys were loud with jokes and orders, waving for pasta, pizza, and too much bread. And, of course, Operation Boo moved into phase two.
Jun slung an arm around your shoulders as the waiter poured wine. “Y/N, you’ll share with me, right?” he said sweetly.
Before you could answer, Soonyoung leaned across the table. “No, no, sit next to me! We’ll do couple style — you take a bite, I take a bite.”
The table howled with laughter as Seokmin chimed in, “Hey! She’s already Seventeen’s honorary maknae, she’s mine to protect!” He threw both arms dramatically around you, almost knocking over the bread basket.
Seungkwan, seated just one chair over, stiffened. He forced a laugh, grabbing a piece of focaccia a little too roughly. “Yah, do you guys plan to feed her or suffocate her?” His voice was light, teasing — but his eyes flicked to you, lingering.
You only laughed, gently pushing Seokmin off. “You’re all too much.”
“Exactly,” Seungkwan muttered softly.
Plates began to arrive one after another — spaghetti tossed with clams, bubbling lasagna, thin pizzas blistered at the edges.
You were too busy making sure everyone had what they wanted to notice how Seungkwan kept track of you. If your glass dipped below half, he nudged the carafe closer. If you reached across the table, he slid the dish your way before you could stretch too far.
When you laughed at one of Jun’s exaggerated impressions, Seungkwan stabbed his fork into his pasta with unnecessary force. The others were too caught up in their own chatter to notice. Mingyu wasn’t. He smirked into his glass and murmured something to Joshua, who only shook his head in amusement.
“Try this,” Seungkwan said suddenly, holding out a forkful of his dish to you. The offer was casual, but his eyes didn’t leave yours.
You blinked, surprised. “Oh—thanks.” Leaning in, you took the bite, lips brushing the metal of his fork. The thought of an indirect kiss making your cheeks warm.
The table roared at something Soonyoung said, covering the quiet moment entirely.
“Good, right?” he asked, voice almost too careful.
You nodded, smiling. “Better than mine.”
“Then eat mine,” he said quickly, pushing the plate a little towards you. When you hesitated, he added with a grin, “I’ll steal yours in return.”
It passed as banter, one of countless exchanges in the noise of the meal. But something hung in the air between you both, just long enough for Mingyu to lean back, satisfied.
The meal wound down with Seokmin serenading the waiter for an extra plate of tiramisu, everyone groaning at the sugar high to come. You laughed until your stomach hurt, surrounded by warmth, noise, and the sense that these boys were family.
And still, every time your laughter faded, your eyes drifted — without thinking — back to the boy across from you, who was already watching. It wasn’t obvious, not to anyone else, but the corners of his mouth would soften whenever your gazes caught, as if he couldn’t help it.
Later, when everyone shuffled back toward the vans, you lingered near the door to check no one had left behind chargers or jackets. Seungkwan fell into step beside you, holding a paper bag of leftovers.
“You barely touched your pasta,” he said, voice pitched low enough that it felt private.
You shrugged. “I was busy making sure everyone else ate.”
He gave you a look — gentle, but firm. “Next time, you sit down and eat. Let us worry about ourselves for once.”
You blinked at him, surprised at how serious he sounded. “That’s a little bossy.”
“Promise me,” he pressed, not in a bad way and just enough to show his concern.
You hesitated, then smiled softly. “Promise.”
His shoulders eased, like he’d been carrying a weight only he noticed. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he reached his hand out, helping you up into the van.
By nightfall, the vans had pulled into a small stretch of private beach where lanterns and portable grills were set up. The sea lapped quietly in the background, stars flickering overhead.
The barbeque came alive first — Mingyu and Seokmin flipping skewers, Soonyoung insisting on leading stretches before eating, Dino already sneaking sips of soda. You darted between them with napkins, plates, extra towels, laughter bubbling up at their antics.
“Stop spoiling us,” Wonwoo said gently when you handed him a second skewer.
“That’s what I’m here for,” you replied, only half-joking.
But Seungkwan’s gaze followed you the whole time, tugging at the back of his chest.
Later, when the food was gone and lanterns flickered low, someone shouted for a night swim. Chaos exploded instantly — shirts flung, shorts pulled on, the sound of splashes cutting through the warm Italian night.
You hesitated at the shoreline. The water shimmered silver under the moonlight, endless and dark, your feet rooted in the sand.
“You’re not coming?” Seokmin called, already splashing like a dolphin.
“I’ll stay here,” you called, hugging your arms. “You guys go have fun.”
That’s when Mingyu, standing waist-deep, leaned towards Jun with a cheeky grin. His voice just loud enough for Seungkwan, who's hovering behind you, to hear.
“If Y/N doesn’t want to go in,” Mingyu drawled, “I’ll keep her safe. She can hold onto me.”
Jun snorted, immediately catching on. “Yeah, hyung, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
And that did it.
Seungkwan’s jaw clenched, ears flaming even before he realised he was already moving. Closing the space between you and him in a heartbeat.
A warm hand slid into yours, firm and certain.
You startled, looking up at him. “Seungkwan?”
He didn’t glance back at the others. His gaze was steady, only on you. “It’s okay, hyung. I’ll stay with her,” his grip tightening just enough to say what words couldn’t: Not anyone else. Me.
From the shallows, Mingyu highfived Jun, grinning, “Checkmate.”
The groans and laughter came instantly from the water. “Aigoooo!” Soonyoung howled. “Our Kwannie, the knight in shining swim trunks!”
Your cheeks warmed, but Seungkwan ignored them. He tugged your hand, gently coaxing you forward, voice softening, “Come on. Just the edge. Do you trust me?”
The question hit deeper than the waves. You hesitated, then nodded, and his fingers laced tighter with yours.
Step by step, the water lapped higher — cool at your ankles, then sharp at your shins. You held his hand tighter. He let you loop your arm through his as the waves pushed against you both.
When the water reached your waist, you gasped softly, but his other hand came to your back, steady and protective.
“Hey,” he murmured, voice low, meant only for you. “I won’t let go.”
And you believed him.
For a few quiet minutes, you let the waves sway you both, the laughter of the others fading into background noise. His thumb brushed over your knuckles absently, like he was reassuring himself just as much as he was you. When you dared glance up, his eyes were already on you, moonlight reflected in them — so open, so unguarded that your breath caught.
Someone splashed nearby, breaking the spell. Soonyoung shrieked about seaweed, Dino howled with laughter, and Seungcheol finally barked for everyone to head back before they froze.
Seungkwan guided you carefully out of the water, never loosening his hold. He draped his towel over your shoulders as soon as you stepped onto the sand, fussing until it was snug. “You’re shivering,” he muttered, though his own hair was dripping down his neck.
“And you’re not?” you teased, teeth chattering slightly.
He just smiled — a small, quiet curve of his lips — and walked you back toward the glowing lanterns.
The others carried on with their noise, wrestling for showers and snacks, but he stayed close, brushing shoulders with you until you finally ducked into your camper van.
“Goodnight, Y/n,” he said softly, lingering in the doorway.
You tugged the towel tighter, heart still pounding for reasons that had little to do with the cold. “Goodnight, Seungkwan.”
His smile lingered even as he turned away, the sound of the sea still rolling in the background.
And when you lay down that night, the feeling of his hand around yours stayed — steady, warm, impossible to forget.
The morning smelled of salt and espresso. The campsite was slow to stir: a few groggy groans, the sound of flip-flops dragging against gravel, Soonyoung demanding to know who stole his pillow. You’d woken earlier than most, hair damp from a quick shower, pulling together a simple breakfast of fruit, bread, and coffee packets from the van.
By the time Seungcheol stumbled out, yawning like a bear, you already had mugs lined up.
“You’re unreal,” he muttered gratefully, taking the first cup.
“I just don’t want thirteen starving men turning on me,” you said with a grin.
That’s when Seokmin bounded over and threw an arm around you, nearly spilling his coffee. “See, this is why you’re honorary Seventeen. Who else would put up with us?”
The others chorused their agreement, half-asleep but already crowding around for their share. You laughed, handing out plates, fussing at Dino for taking three slices of bread, reminding Vernon not to skip fruit.
Seungkwan came out last, rubbing his eyes, hair sticking up in a way that would make stylists cry. He froze for a beat when he spotted you plating toast — like the simple sight of you there in the morning light had disarmed him completely.
“Morning,” you said softly, sliding a piece of toast his way.
His lips tugged upward despite his sleepiness. “Morning.”
The others, of course, didn’t miss it.
Soonyoung leaned toward Jihoon with a whisper that wasn’t nearly quiet enough: “That’s a married couple vibe if I’ve ever seen one.”
Jeonghan was already smirking into his mug, eyes flicking between you and Seungkwan like he was watching a drama unfold. Joshua hummed, amused, while Wonwoo simply muttered, “Cute,” under his breath.
You busied yourself with the fruit bowl, pretending not to hear. Seungkwan cleared his throat and ducked his head, ears pink, focusing way too intently on buttering his toast.
Mingyu watched it all with a bite of bread hanging from his mouth. He chewed slowly, eyes narrowing in thought. Cute, yes. Progress, definitely. But in his self-appointed role as Wingman-in-Chief, he knew one thing for certain:
Operation Boo was far from over.
Seungkwan had cracked the surface but if he left it there, he knew Seungkwan would retreat behind his jokes and deflections before the week was out. No. He needed a push. A good one.
Mingyu set down his mug, leaning back on the bench, already running through possibilities. Jealousy had worked once. Proximity worked too. Now? Opportunity. They needed to keep creating moments where it was just the two of you, where Seungkwan had no choice but to act on what everyone already knew he felt.
And if the others could stir the pot along the way? Even better.
“Phase Three,” Mingyu muttered under his breath, smirking into his coffee.
“What?” Jun asked, glancing over.
Mingyu shook his head innocently. “Nothing. Just thinking today’s gonna be interesting.”
Jun raised a brow, unconvinced, but when Mingyu’s grin spread wide, he chuckled knowingly.
Yeah. The mission wasn’t over. Not even close.
The vans rumbled back to life as the group packed up. Amalfi was only a couple of hours away, but the winding coastal roads promised both beauty and chaos.
“Driver?” Seungcheol asked, dangling the keys.
You raised your hand before you could think twice. “I’ll take it. I’ve always wanted to drive the Amalfi Coast.”
There was a pause.
Then thirteen heads turned in unison.
“Y/N driving us?” Soonyoung gasped dramatically. “This is history.”
“Brace yourselves,” Jeonghan teased. “Hope you all said your prayers.”
You rolled your eyes, sliding into the driver’s seat with your sunglasses perched like armor. The boys piled in with exaggerated groans of doom — but it was Mingyu’s sly grin that betrayed him. He leaned casually against the van door and said, “Well, if Y/N’s driving… Seungkwan should ride shotgun. Y’know, just in case she needs help.”
“Help with what? I can drive just fine,” you protested.
Mingyu’s grin widened. “Navigation. Snacks. Moral support. Maybe holding her hand if she gets scared on the cliff roads.”
A chorus of “ooohs” exploded from the back.
Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
But Seungkwan, ears flaming, was already being shoved toward the passenger seat by Seokmin and Soonyoung. “Kwan-ah, go protect her!”
He stumbled in, buckling up quickly like he had no choice. He shot a glare over his shoulder. “You’re all insane.”
From the back, Mingyu high-fived Seokmin, “Operation Boo, Phase Three engaged.”
The van rattled down the coastal road, the blue of the sea stretching endlessly beside you, sunlight scattering diamonds across the waves. The cliffs dipped and curved dramatically, the kind of road that demanded both hands steady on the wheel.
Your grip was tight, knuckles pale against the leather. “Okay,” you muttered under your breath. “This is fine. Totally fine.”
Beside you, Seungkwan noticed immediately. His posture softened, one elbow resting lazily on the open window like he wasn’t also low-key terrified of the cliff’s edge. “Y/N,” he said gently, tilting his head toward you, “you’re doing great. Look at you, channeling Fast & Furious: Amalfi Drift.”
You snorted, “Pretty sure Dom Toretto didn’t have thirteen backseat drivers.”
As if on cue, Soonyoung yelled from the back, “Slow down, I’m too young to die!” followed by Dino dramatically clutching his chest.
Seungkwan twisted in his seat, glaring at them. “Hey! Let her focus. Unless one of you wants to walk to Amalfi, shut it.”
The van hushed, laughter simmering down. You blinked at him, surprised. “Thanks.”
“They’re just loud. Ignore them.” he shrugged as he reached into the snack bag at his feet, unwrapping something noisily. “Here. Open up.”
You glanced at him, incredulous. “I’m driving, Seungkwan.”
“So? You still need energy.” He broke off a piece of pastry, holding it up inches from your mouth. “Come on, just a bite. It’s a co-pilot’s duty.”
You rolled your eyes, but leaned in and let him pop the bite into your mouth. He beamed like he’d just saved the day.
“See? Not so hard. Next up: hydration.” He held a water bottle to your lips, tilting it carefully so you didn’t spill.
The warmth that crept up your neck wasn’t just from the sun. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled, swallowing.
“And yet, here you are, letting me spoil you,” he teased, his tone lighter than the heat pooling in his chest.
The road wound tighter, the drop more dramatic, but with his easy chatter filling the air — stories about his last trip, teasing commentary about the boys’ snores in the back — your shoulders finally began to loosen.
Every so often, when the van hit a bump and your grip tightened again, his hand brushed lightly against your arm, steady and comforting. “I’m right here,” he murmured once, so quietly only you could hear.
And maybe it was the Italian air, or maybe it was just him — but suddenly, the cliffs didn’t seem so intimidating anymore.
Behind you, Jeonghan raised a brow at the exchange and murmured to Mingyu, “Phase Three is basically happening on its own.”
Mingyu smirked. “Still, let’s push it tonight.”
By the time the vans were parked on a quiet stretch of beach that evening, the sky was melting into indigo. Lanterns were strung up between the camper vans, the air thick with charcoal smoke and the sound of Seokmin’s off-key singing as he manned the grill.
You sat cross-legged on a blanket, passing out skewers and shooing Hoshi’s hands away from the raw ones. The firelight painted everything gold, laughter mixing with the crash of the waves.
“Y/N,” Seungkwan called, waving you over. He was sitting closer to the surf, the glow of the lanterns catching in his hair. “There’s room here.”
You hesitated — but before you could move, Mingyu beat you to it, plopping down right beside you, slinging an arm casually around your shoulders. “Nah, she’s with me.”
The group erupted in wolf-whistles.
Seungkwan’s jaw ticked. He tried to cover it with a sip of his drink,
but his fingers tightened a little too hard around the rim of the cup. He forced a laugh, tilting his head as if Mingyu’s antics were nothing new, but the muscle in his jaw betrayed him.
You shifted under Mingyu’s arm, rolling your eyes. “You’re heavy, Gyu.”
Mingyu only leaned in more, grinning mischievously. “That’s because I’m comfortable.”
“Comfortable doesn’t mean welcome,” you shot back, prying his arm off with a playful shove.
Across the fire, Seungkwan’s lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before he darted back to his food.
The games began soon after — of course it was Jeonghan’s idea. Truth or dare under the stars, everyone loud with wine and mischief.
Seokmin singing a ballad to a grilled sausage, Vernon doing twenty push-ups with Dino on his back, Jihoon pecking an excited Soonyoung on the cheek.
Seokmin’s grin was wicked. “Kiss someone in the circle.”
The fire crackled louder than the sudden silence.
Seungkwan’s ears went scarlet. He scanned the group once, twice, trying to mask his panic. Then his eyes found yours.
The world seemed to hush, just for a second.
Your eyes widened when he slowly walked over, leaning down as his hand brushed the sand beside yours for balance, his breath tickling your cheek. He was close enough that your heart thudded wildly in your chest, and that every nerve screamed at you to close the gap.
And then—
“TIME!” Jeonghan screeched, clapping his hands. “He’s stalling! Penalty shot!”
The group dissolved into chaos, and the moment broke like foam on the tide.
But Seungkwan lingered close, his lips still curved in a tiny, frustrated smile. And when you glanced at him, heat rushed through you because you knew — both of you knew — that if not for the others, he wouldn’t have stopped.
Later, when the games died down and everyone sprawled across blankets in varying states of tipsy exhaustion, Seungkwan found himself lying parallel to you, just close enough that your knees brushed whenever one of you shifted.
The others were still rowdy — Soonyoung belting out an off-key song, Mingyu swearing at Wonwoo over cards — but for you, the world had narrowed. To the sound of waves. To the warmth of the fire. To the quiet of Seungkwan’s voice when he whispered, “Did I scare you earlier?”
Your heart lurched. You turned your head, meeting his eyes in the flicker of lantern light. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, then smiled — small, sheepish. “Almost kissing you.”
Your breath caught. The fire popped, sending a spray of sparks into the night, and for a moment you swore everything — the laughter, the waves, the clinking bottles — dulled around you.
You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “Oh. That.”
Seungkwan’s smile twitched, like he was bracing for rejection but covering it with humor. “I didn’t mean to. It was just… the dare, you know. I wouldn’t want you to think I’d—”
“You didn’t scare me.” The words slipped out before you could cage them.
His eyes widened a fraction, something sparking there. He shifted, leaning on his elbow, the faintest brush of his knee against yours again. “No?”
You shook your head, heat crawling up your neck. “Just… surprised.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, the sheepishness fading into something else — bolder, though still soft. “Surprised isn’t bad.”
It wasn’t. Not when the lantern light painted gold into his eyes, or when the salt wind carried the warmth of the fire over his skin, or when he looked at you like there was no one else sprawled on blankets just a few feet away.
For a suspended moment, it was just you. Just him. And something in the Italian air pressing closer, closer, closer—
“Alright!” Mingyu’s voice boomed suddenly, shattering the bubble. “Sleeping arrangements! Let’s be fair, yeah?”
Groans rose instantly. “We’re too tired for this,” Wonwoo muttered, pulling his blanket over his head.
“No, no, listen,” Jeonghan cut in, far too innocent. “We don’t have enough beds.”
You blinked, sitting up. “Didn’t we rent three camper vans?”
“Yeah, and there’s thirteen of us,” Soonyoung chirped. “Do the math, Y/N.”
“I can sleep on the floor,” you offered quickly, but the chorus of “nooo” drowned you out.
Seungcheol clapped his hands like a judge. “Easy fix. Pairs. One extra per van. Someone’s doubling up.”
Your stomach dipped. You didn’t have to look to know whose eyes found yours first.
And when Soonyoung “helpfully” declared, “Y/N and Seungkwan can share! They’re practically glued together already!” the group erupted in cheers and wolf whistles.
Seungkwan groaned, dragging a hand over his face, ears red enough to match the embers still glowing in the fire. But when the noise dimmed, he peeked at you, tentative and shy — like asking without words if it was okay.
You exhaled, heart thudding, and nodded just once.
That was all it took. His lips pressed into a smile he couldn’t hide, and as the others broke into chaos around you, you thought again:
Something in the Italian air.
The camper van was quieter than you expected when you slipped inside. Outside, the boys were still bickering about who snores the loudest (Seokmin swore it wasn’t him; everyone else begged to differ), but in here, only the hum of the small fan and the faint crash of waves filled the space.
Seungkwan was already there, sitting stiffly on one side of the mattress with his back against the wall, fiddling with his phone like it might save him. His hair was still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the edges, and his hoodie looked two sizes too big for its own good.
He glanced up when you entered. His ears turned pink instantly, but his voice was calm enough. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You slid the door shut behind you, feeling your pulse in your throat. “They’re still fighting over pillows.”
He chuckled, tugging the blanket across the bed. “Classic. At least we don’t have to.”
You nodded, hovering for a moment before finally sitting down — careful, like the mattress might burn you. The dip of your weight shifted him closer, just a little, and your shoulders nearly brushed.
The silence stretched.
“Sorry,” he blurted, eyes fixed on his phone screen though it was dark.
You frowned. “For what?”
He hesitated, thumb swiping nothing. “For… them. Making it awkward.”
You tilted your head, studying him. The boy who usually had a quip for everything looked like he was balancing on a wire, waiting to see if you’d push him off.
“It’s only awkward if we make it,” you said softly.
His head turned then, slowly, eyes finding yours in the dim glow of the lantern string outside. Something flickered across his face — relief, surprise, maybe even wonder.
The van swayed gently as the wind pressed against it. You lay back first, pulling the blanket over yourself. He hesitated, then followed, careful to leave a polite space between you.
But space has a way of shrinking.
The mattress dipped, the warmth of his body bled through the thin air, and when you shifted onto your side, you found his gaze already there. Neither of you spoke. You just stared, the silence louder than the ocean.
Your hand shifted under the blanket, barely an inch — but it was enough. He noticed. His breath caught, the smallest pause in the rhythm of the van. Then, with a hesitance that felt almost deliberate, his pinky skimmed against yours.
The touch was nothing. A whisper. And yet it sent your pulse racing.
“You alright?” he murmured, his voice low, almost hoarse.
You swallowed. “Yeah. You?”
His mouth curved into a faint, almost disbelieving smile. “Better now.”
Heat rose in your chest, and before you could second-guess it, your fingers drifted closer, brushing against his until they finally slipped together. His grip tightened gently, like he’d been waiting for it — for you.
Neither of you dared break the quiet. But as his thumb traced a slow line over your knuckles, steady and sure, you realised—
This wasn’t hesitation.
This was the start of something you both had already chosen.
You didn’t sleep much.
Not because the mattress was thin, or because Soonyoung’s snores seeped through the van walls, or even because the ocean kept crashing against the shore.
It was because every time you shifted, you felt it: the steady warmth of Seungkwan’s hand wrapped around yours under the blanket. He never loosened his grip. Not once.
Even when his breathing deepened, even when his shoulders rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep, his thumb brushed faintly against your skin, like his body refused to let go.
And you didn’t want him to.
By the time the sun filtered pale gold through the curtains, your eyes were gritty but your chest was oddly full. You’d rolled onto your back at some point, his hand still tethered to yours. Seungkwan stirred when you shifted, blinking awake slowly, lids heavy, hair sticking up in impossible directions.
“Morning,” he rasped, his voice rough with sleep.
Your breath caught. He’d never sounded like that before.
“Morning,” you whispered back, trying to sound normal, but your cheeks gave you away.
For a moment, he didn’t move. Just looked at you — really looked, like the night had stripped away whatever shields you both usually wore. Then his gaze flicked down, to your hands still tangled under the blanket. He froze.
You both let go at the same time. Too fast. Like it burned.
He cleared his throat, sitting up too abruptly. “Uh—breakfast. Right. Should… probably check if Mingyu hasn’t eaten all the bread already.”
You pushed the blanket off your legs, pretending the rush in your chest was just leftover sleep. “Yeah. Of course.”
But when you slid the door open and stepped into the morning air, you caught his reflection in the glass: Seungkwan watching you, lips pressed together, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.
And as you joined the others by the grill, laughter already spilling over coffee mugs and half-burnt toast, the question echoed in your chest — the one you didn’t dare voice yet.
What were you to each other now?
Breakfast was louder than usual. Not because the boys were any rowdier — though Soonyoung still managed to get peanut butter in his hair and Dino nearly set the toaster on fire — but because of the way they looked at you.
Or rather, the way they looked between you and Seungkwan.
It was subtle at first. Joshua handing you coffee with a knowing smile. Jun leaning his chin on his palm, watching with too much interest when you sat down beside Seungkwan instead of across. Myungho nudging Wonwoo under the table whenever your arms brushed.
And then Soonyoung broke the dam.
“So, Y/N,” he drawled, eyes sparkling. “How did you sleep?”
You blinked at him, toast halfway to your mouth. “…Fine?”
Heat shot to your cheeks as the table erupted in laughter. Across from you, Seungkwan nearly choked on his orange juice.
“Cut it out,” Seungcheol grumbled, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Eat your breakfast.”
But the whispers continued, layered beneath the chatter like a song only they knew. Operation Boo was alive and thriving.
The day unspooled in soft blues and lemon light.
You wandered Amalfi as a pack—lanes no wider than outstretched arms, balconies stitched with bougainvillea, scooters whining past like dragonflies. You floated from café to ceramic shop to sunlit piazza, and somehow, without announcing it, Seungkwan kept ending up beside you.
He wasn’t obvious about it, just… there. Reaching the door handle a half-second before you did. Tilting the lemon soda your way so you got the first sip. Pointing out a tiled alley cat so you’d laugh, then laughing because you did. When you paused to read a menu, he leaned in to “help,” and somehow your shoulders touched; when a scooter zipped too close, his hand found the small of your back, a gentle steer, then gone.
Across the street, the boys pretended not to stare.
Joshua clocked it first, smiling into his espresso. Soonyoung hummed the wedding march under his breath until Jihoon elbowed him. Even Vernon looked up from the postcard he was holding, whispering, “They’re synced,” like it was a nature documentary. And Mingyu, sunglasses sliding down his nose, just grinned and said to no one in particular, “Must be something in the air.”
The sun dipped low by the time you returned to the campsite, painting the sea in shades of copper and violet.
Dinner had been eaten in a happy blur at a restaurant nearby, and now, everyone lounged in loose clusters, the lull of contentment heavy after a long day.
Then Jeonghan clapped his hands together, far too brightly. “We’re out of ice.”
You blinked, glancing at the cooler. “There’s still some left.”
“Nope,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, snapping the lid shut before you could check. “Melted. Tragic.”
“Absolutely tragic,” Soonyoung echoed, already hopping to his feet.
“I’ll go,” you offered, standing, but Mingyu was quicker. He stretched theatrically, slinging an arm over Seokmin. “Nah, nah. We’ll handle it. Strong men only, you relax.”
“Strong men?” Seokmin laughed, flexing dramatically. “Fine, but I’m bringing Dino. Someone has to carry the real weight.”
Before you could protest, half the group was already on their feet — Mingyu, Seokmin, Soonyoung, Jun, Dino — all bustling with suspicious enthusiasm.
Seungcheol rose with a sigh, dusting off his hands. “Fine. I’ll supervise.”
“Same,” Joshua added, his tone far too innocent.
You frowned. “That’s… a lot of people to buy one bag of ice.”
“Teamwork,” Mingyu declared, steering them toward the vans. “Be back soon!”
And just like that, the campsite emptied.
Leaving only you. And Seungkwan.
He was perched on the edge of a blanket, knees bent, fiddling idly with a lantern string. When the laughter of the others faded down the road, silence rushed in — broken only by the hush of waves and the occasional crackle of the fire pit.
You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “That was weird, right?”
Seungkwan looked up, lips quirking. “Extremely.”
“They ditched us on purpose.”
“Without a doubt.”
You both fell quiet again, though the air between you suddenly felt louder. He shifted, patting the spot beside him. “Want to sit?”
You hesitated, then lowered yourself onto the blanket. The fabric dipped, your knees brushing his. The lantern light painted his hair in warm gold, and when he turned to glance at you, his eyes softened in a way that made your chest stumble.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The night hummed with possibility — the ocean, the fire, the fact that your friends were very obviously hiding somewhere, waiting.
“So…” Seungkwan said finally, his voice quiet. “Guess it’s just us.”
You smiled faintly. “Yeah. Weird, huh?”
He tilted his head toward the water and pushed himself to his feet, offering his hand, “One more swim? Just us this time.”
You stared at his hand, the firelight flickering against his skin, steady and waiting. Slowly, you slipped your fingers into his, letting him tug you upright.
The waves rose higher, brushing against your knees, and you laughed nervously, holding onto his arm when one pushed a little harder. “It’s colder than before.”
“Stay close,” he murmured, steadying you with both hands, “you’ll forget about it.”
And then it happened. You slipped — a misstep in the sand, your body pitching forward. A startled gasp caught in your throat—
But his arms were already around you.
Firm. Certain. His chest met yours with a jolt that sent sparks scattering down your spine. He held you steady, fingers digging just slightly into your waist, as if letting go wasn’t an option.
“Got you,” he whispered.
The world seemed to still. The ocean swayed, the fire flickered far behind, but all you felt was him: his breath mingling with yours, his hands holding you close, the heat in his gaze that made everything else fade.
Your fingers curled into his shirt. His lips parted, a shaky inhale — and then you both leaned in, closing the space.
The kiss was unhurried, tender but heavy with everything unsaid. The salt of the sea clung to your lips, his thumb brushed faintly at your jaw, and when you pulled back just enough to breathe, he laughed softly — like he couldn’t believe it had finally happened.
“I thought it was just me. That I was the only idiot who—”
You didn’t let him finish. You kissed him again, quicker this time, almost desperate, like the words were too heavy for him to carry alone. His breath hitched in surprise, then melted into it, one hand sliding up to cradle your cheek as the other pulled you tight against his chest.
When you broke apart, your foreheads stayed pressed together, both of you panting, saltwater dripping down your temples.
“It was never just you,” you whispered, your voice barely a thread but steady. “I was scared. I didn’t want to risk… this.”
His eyes searched yours, wide, almost boyish in their hope. “And now?”
You smiled — soft, shaky. “Now I think it’s worth the risk.”
A groan tore out of him, like relief itself had weight. He pulled you back into him, burying his face in the crook of your neck for a moment, shoulders trembling with the release of it all. Then, muffled against your skin, he mumbled, “You’re going to ruin me, you know that?”
You laughed, watery and warm. “Guess we’ll ruin each other.”
He leaned back just far enough to look at you again, eyes shining with happiness, “Y/N…” His voice was no longer trembling, but filled with certainty. “I like you. I’ve liked you for so long I don’t even remember when it started. And I don’t want to hide it anymore.”
Your chest swelled, happiness tugging your brows together, and you answered him the only way you knew how — with another kiss. This one was firmer, deeper, your fingers threading into his damp hair. He sighed into it, a sound of pure surrender, and drew you closer like he’d been waiting years for this very moment.
Neither of you noticed the shadows huddled up the beach.
The boys had only made it a few hundred meters down the road before Mingyu stopped abruptly, “What if something happens?” he’d said, grin sharp. So they crept back, crouched behind rocks, stifling laughter.
“Shut up, you’ll ruin it!” Mingyu hissed, smacking the back of his head. But his grin stretched so wide it nearly split his face.
Jeonghan, ever the picture of calm, leaned casually against a boulder. “Told you the air would do it.”
“Air?” Soonyoung cackled. “Please. This was all us. Operation Boo, baby!”
The commotion was inevitable. Seokmin tripped over his own feet, sending a lantern clattering to the sand.
You and Seungkwan jolted apart, breathless and flushed, spinning toward the sound.
And there they were. Twelve guilty faces, frozen mid-spy.
Seungkwan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You have got to be kidding me.”
But it was too late — Soonyoung charged forward with a battle cry, splashing into the water. “GROUP HUG IN THE SEA!”
You squealed as Seokmin barreled in after him, arms wide, and soon the beach exploded into chaos. Water splashed high, laughter erupted, Dino tried to dunk Mingyu, Jihoon actually flung a handful of water at Soonyoung, and Joshua just stood waist-deep, shaking his head with the fondest smile.
Jeonghan, ever elegant, waded in calmly with a smirk. “What a coincidence, finding you two alone here.”
“Coincidence?” Seungkwan sputtered, shielding you from Soonyoung’s second attack. “You all staged this!”
“Staged? Us?” Mingyu’s voice was far too innocent, water glinting off his grin. “Please. It’s just the Italian air. Makes people… braver.”
Joshua was already laughing, slipping an arm around your shoulders despite Seungkwan’s glare. “He’s right. Something in the air, that’s all.”
“Then why were you hiding in the bushes?!” Seungkwan shot back, ears scarlet.
“Team bonding exercise,” Seokmin declared with mock sincerity before promptly dunking Vernon under the water.
Soon, it devolved into pure chaos: Seungcheol tossing Dino like a beach ball, Wonwoo splashing quietly but with surgical precision, Jun and Myungho teaming up like assassins. Seungkwan stayed stubbornly close to you, one arm hovering protectively as he muttered, “Unbelievable. They’re all insane.”
You nudged him with a grin, wiping saltwater from your eyes. “Maybe. But it’s fun, isn’t it?”
For a moment, he held you gaze, hair plastered to his forehead, smile breaking through despite his sulking. His arm reached to tug you closer, leaning in again slightly, as if the whole world had shrunk down to just the space between you.
And then Seokmin shrieked, arms pinwheeling as he slipped on a patch of seaweed and went down with a splash big enough to drench everyone within range.
You doubled over laughing, clutching your stomach. Seungkwan burst out too, the tension between you both dissolving into pure joy. The sound of your laughter tangled with his, loud and bright against the roar of the waves — like even the ocean was in on the joke.
The waves carried your laughter away, blending it with the shouts of the boys as the water fight spiraled. You and Seungkwan leaned into each other, breathless, saltwater streaming down your faces as you watched the others with fond smiles.
“Y/N! Seungkwan!” Mingyu bellowed over the chaos, that wicked grin painted on his face. “You owe us one thing!”
You groaned. “What now?”
“A thank you!” he declared, pointing dramatically at you both. “If it weren’t for us, you two would still be sitting on opposite sides of the van, pretending nothing’s going on!”
The chorus of cheers and laughter that followed was merciless. “It’s true!” “We did all the work!” “Operation Boo complete!”
Seungkwan’s ears turned scarlet as he splashed a wave at them. "You guys said it yourself, It was— it was—” He faltered, glaring at the lot of them, then glanced back at you, lips tugging upward into a small, crooked smile. “…it was just something in the air.”
The teasing only grew louder, wolf-whistles and shouts cutting through the night, but you didn’t care. You leaned in close, so near that only he could hear you. “Good excuse.”
Before he could answer, you pressed a quick kiss to his soaked cheek.
Seungkwan froze, eyes wide, the tips of his ears blazing even redder. Then, as the noise of the others swelled around you, a stunned laugh tumbled out of him — bright, disbelieving, helplessly happy. He ducked his head, trying and failing to hide the grin stretching across his face.
You grinned back, saltwater dripping into your eyes, your hand slipping naturally into his under the waves. His fingers curled around yours instantly, steady despite the chaos.
And even as Soonyoung attempted to launch another “group hug” attack and Seokmin screamed about seaweed monsters, you couldn’t focus on anything else. Not the shouting. Not the splashing. Just the boy laughing beside you like he’d been waiting years for this exact moment.
ANON REQUESTED “SEVEN-I wanted to gatekeep you from everyone else but I failed-TEEN and their bff/gf??”
ⓘ INCLUDES: romance, fluff, humor. established relationships, use of pet names, mention of alcohol (soonyoung). headcanons under the cut. ・ NOTE: the laugh i let out when i saw this request. my favorite genre of svt fr. ‹𝟹
⛓️💥 how (and why) seventeen failed at gatekeeping you.
seungcheol posts a photo of you on weverse. it's simple enough: a picture of you across the table from him, smiling over a dinner date. the only caption is a single red heart emoji. the photo choice is intentional. he chose one where your face is clear and your identity is unmistakable, because he'll be damned if any other guy tries to hit you up when you're spoken for.
jeonghan falls into the rabbit hole of couple items. it starts with the phone cases, but it doesn't end there. clothes of the same style. shoes from the same brand. he swears he's not playing relationship olympics; it's just so clear to him that the two of you are the it couple. anybody who says otherwise can talk to your matching luxury bags, thank you very much.
joshua misses the fact that he hadn't switched instagram accounts. he has two: his work-sanctioned one, and the one where he keeps up with everybody that matters. the boys call it his 'shrine' for you, because that's where he actually keeps log of your little dates. until he accidentally posts it to his main. where's that damn delete button, and why is it so elusive?
junhui is on a roll during an interview. he's in a chatty mood, and he's feeling a little loose-lipped. when the interviewer cleverly asks about his love life— phrasing it like they already know he has one— jun is trapped. hook, line, sinker. he happily yaps about you, only to realize much later that may have not been the move. too late. the interview's already live.
soonyoung should have known that alcohol and a media engagement would not be a good combination. he had begged the producers to cut the footage out, but, alas; it was the most clickbait-y part of the video. how could they? now, everybody knows soonyoung can rant about how much he loves you for upwards of twenty minutes.
wonwoo isn't aware he was supposed to be gatekeeping you. one fine day, he drops a carousel of photos on his photography account. you're partially visible in some of them— the side of your face, the curve of your side, the flash of your grin. the two of you had been on vacation. the account is his archive, anyway; everyone else's opinion be damned. he wants to remember you like this.
it's not a name drop, but it's a close thing. jihoon's never been the type to declare things on sns, so he does it in the way that he knows. a throwaway lyric. an entire song. fine, maybe a mini-album. he could have an entire discography solely about you, if he's being honest. people can guess all they want. if you're immortalize in his song, then jihoon's job is done.
from the very beginning, seokmin has wanted to scream you off the rooftops. he holds back because he knows the consequences of going public. he can't resist it, though, and he eventually sneaks a photo or two into a photo carousel. he gets giddy at perfecting the soft launch, at nailing the art of perfectly-cropped photos and choice songs. it scratches that itch of his— the urge to have everybody know about you, while also keeping you to himself.
you and mingyu show up at fashion week, immaculately dressed from head to toe. talk about a hard launch! he giggles as he answers questions from interviewers. it's clear to everybody that he's absolutely smitten. there are literal models in front of him, and he's looking at you like you beat them out any day. he never really liked these types of events, but if he gets to have you at his side, looking like the goddess that you are— well. he might have to start responding to a couple more invites.
minghao shocks the entertainment industry with a well-worded essay on weibo about the importance of valuing an idol's private relationships. in true minghao fashion, he makes it abundantly clear how important boundaries are to him. buried underneath that is the confirmation that he is dating, yes, and that it's a part of his life he'll stake his career to defend. this is just his job, but loving you is part of his life.
seungkwan's cover of a western love song has fans swooning, but a dedication buried in the description of the youtube video has everybody flabbergasted. 'dedicated to my girl,' it simply says. no explanation. no name drop. seungkwan has a girl, and that's that. he accepts your wrath; he knows you'll secretly enjoy reading the absurd speculation with him. chaos is fun in moderation, and this is one of the ways seungkwan likes to poke the bear.
it's a series of unfortunate events for vernon. he posts a mirror selfie of himself— a rare one!— without knowing anyone can zoom in and see you on his bed, (thankfully) fully clothed but definitely looking very comfortable. like you belong there. he takes a long nap after, missing dozens of calls and waking up to hundreds of texts. oh, well. you were going to have to go public one day, anyway.
your privacy might have lasted if chan wasn't so damn obvious whenever the two of you were out and about. even on your most discreet dates, chan looks a little too happy to just be hanging out with a friend. the paparazzi catches wind. the final nail on the coffin is a close-up stolen photo of chan's lockscreen: a selfie of him planting a big, fat kiss on your cheek.
› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao
Creker University has it all — premium education, respected faculty, even a revered partnership with OneAll Charity. There’s just one problem. A mysterious hooded figure has made it their personal mission to flip CKU’s golden reputation on its head. With “Hood’s” most recent crusade, people — staff and students alike — are itching to find out exactly who this hooded vigilante is. Little does anyone know, Hood is much more than meets the eye.
Genres: drama, comedy, romance, university au, modern robin hood au
Pairing: it’s a surprise :)
Warnings: mature topics, language, bullshit science that I make up, the main plot isn’t romance I’m sorry
Note: there are no physical depictions of the reader-character, nor any indication of gender. I can provide image description if asked.
SYNOPSIS ; you never thought that being in a variety show would come with your job as an actress, but here you were, chasing some stupid rabbit next to the prettiest girl you've ever met.
TAGS ; reader is an actress, yujin is SEVERELY down bad, earth arcade!!!, mutual pining, mentions of soulmates, wlw, fluff, slow burn, crack, smau
WARNINGS ; strong language, fluff, light angst, mentions of overworking, general chaotic behavior from everyone, more to be added
FEATURING ; ive, iz*one, kim jisoo (blackpink), bae suzy (actress), choi hyunwook (actor), lee youngji (rapper), kim mihyun (mimi from oh my girl!), lee eunji (comedian), na youngseok (producer), and mentions of various other idols, actors and actresses.
STATUS ; IN THE MAKING...
UPDATE TIMES ; ???
PLAYLIST!!
PROFILES. rodent exterminators. 3 actors and an idol. ive (coworkers only). nekkoya.
⤷ AUTHOR'S NOTE﹕you guys r like childhood friends to lovers OH MYGODDFOp. and special thanks to @k1eev for proof-reading this n helping me out<3 u a real one frfr
⤷ SYNOPSIS ﹕you came back to your hometown as your mom and your boyfriends mom hands you both your ipads as you find embarassing instagram accounts that belonged to one another.
( @kstrucknet )
coming back to your hometown means that you get to visit your boyfriend, your mom and of course, his mom! the two of you were childhood best friends, people often never saw the two of you apart from each other– claiming that you two were literally glued to the hip.
but now back to the present, the two of you are together now. well, kind of. you worked overseas in a different country, so it was a long distance relationship per say. although, the two of you managed it pretty well.. you would always facetime woonhak every night (if possible) and probably fall asleep on face time while he stares into his phone, looking at your pretty and peaceful sleeping face. he adored you so so much, his little heart was about to burst.
he never thought, never in a million years, that he would be in a romantic and loving relationship like this. nights where the both of you share your worries to one another, times where you teased each other, and even those times where you two would argue like a married couple. everything was so perfect.
now you were here, standing in front of your childhood home, with your bag on your back and luggage behind you paired with a look of pure happiness on your face, you were so excited you were practically glowing. you gently sighed with a smile before you stepped forward and knocked on the door, waiting for a response. you hear footsteps shuffling to the door as the door slowly creaked open to reveal your mother, a big smile across his face.
“y/n my baby! welcome back home!” she says as she gives you a big bear hug. you almost instantly let out a small chuckle whilst reciprocating her actions and hugged her back. after the both of you pull away from one another, she glances at the heavy luggage behind you. “oh that must be heavy, dear. WOONHAK!!!” she called as she turned her body backwards, letting her back face you.
your mouth agape, wait what? woonhak? he was here? you thought to yourself silently. you hear a familiar voice exclaim back at her calling, “YES EOMMA!” woonhak exclaims as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. before you knew it, you saw him again. his sweet face, a big giddy smile on his face. he stopped in his tracks, “y/n?!” he said as the smile on his face widened.
he quickly ran towards you as you mother steps back, he approaches you, a rosy hue on his cheeks. “you’re— actually here!” without giving you much time to respond, he pulled you close and into a big hug. his face nestled into your neck, you can feel the plush of his lips against your neck as you giggled. “yeah, i’m here. i missed you.” you said as you hugged him back, letting your free hand caress his hair.
“i’ll let you two lovebirds do your thing, make sure to be unpacked by dinner y/n!” your mom says teasingly as she walks off further into the home that you experienced your childhood in. woonhak smiled back at you mother before turning back to you,
his eyes wander behind you to the heavy luggage, “here let me help you, y/nnie.” he says as he slips behind you, grabbing the luggage single-handedly as if it was effortless to him. though reality is that he was just trying to look tough infront of you to impress you, a smile tugged on your lips at the sight. you followed him into the house, the same house you grew up in, still not believing that the two of you are finally together again. well, at least for the next two-ish weeks.
⋆˙⟡ —
you, woonhak, your mom and his mom had just finished eating dinner. the dinner was amazing, the taste of fresh home-cooked meals accompanied with a bunch of chit-chat about life lately. now, the two of you were just chilling in the living room watching tv, enjoying each others presence. sharing things about your days to one another whilst talking about everything the both of you could imagine. you were in the middle of talking about an encounter you had with a co-worker at your new job, before your mom and his mom interrupts and walks into the living room.
the both of them had two ipad’s in their hands, one was your childhood ipad you used to have and the other was woonhak’s. you looked at one another before both your mothers approached you, “we found this just now.. do you guys wanna look through it or something?” his mom said with a sly grin.
you both took the ipad’s as your mothers left with the sounds of giggling and snickering, you looked at each other, basically ready to get embarrassed.
you were looking through yours, occasionally giggling and showing woonhak something you found in your ipad, whether that was an embarrassing photo or a stupid game you downloaded as a kid. a few minutes pass before you stare at your ipad, your mouth agape as you gasp.
he quickly fixed his gaze on you, “huh? what is it y/n?! why are you gasping?!” he says in a nosy tone. he scoots over, peeking through over your shoulder and—
he bursted out laughing as red tinted your face. he had just seen an embarrassing old instagram account you used to have, it was filled with embarrassing things. like old edits you used to make that were oh-so-choppy and as far as to stupid pictures with cringy captions. he laughed at you for a decent amount of time before you snatched his ipad in his hands, “hey!” he exclaimed. still giggling a little at the sight of your embarrassing past.
“stop laughing! i bet you have something too!” you say as you opened his instagram on the ipad, determined to find something embarrassing of his, and just as you hoped, he also had an old account filled with embarrassing things. you bursted out laughing, it was filled with him being all emo and thinking he was cool back when he was a kid, and again, those cringy captions.
though you kind of realized that.. he never really changed.
warnings: coarse language. mingyu is jealous but doesn't know it. fake dating; roommates; childhood f2l. wc: 902
love triangle au requests
read part 1 first
[who's this guy who's everything I'm not? 2] There's a universe out there where Kim Mingyu is able to understand himself perfectly, knows exactly what he wants, and figures it all out right on time instead of when it's already too late.
But that universe isn't this one.
No, in this world, Mingyu blinks like an idiot when you go, "This is Jihoon. I've probably mentioned him before." He blinks and he straightens up and in his mind, he's kicking himself because of course he knows who this guy is.
He wishes he didn't, but yeah, he knows about your friend Jihoon.
Jihoon is the guy who wrote you a handmade valentine in eighth grade, well after most of the boys decided that kind of stuff was gross. (Although you're certain he has no idea you know it was him.) This, you told Mingyu with a smile on your face as you walked him out of his company's Valentine's Day Ritz. You recounted that sweet little childhood friendship story with your arm looped through Mingyu's while he smiled and nodded and chuckled, but mostly he kept glancing at the shiny rings on both of your fingers. They're simple bands, his a little more worn since he takes it to work every day, yours exactly the condition it was when he surprised you with it. "You're in too deep, Mingyu," you'd said through a hypnotic laugh when he went down on one knee in the kitchen you share -- before agreeing to go along with his ruse anyway.
Your ring stays pristine because when you're not playing his better half, it lives in this little ceramic dish in the cubbyhole near the front door. You love that little dish -- it stole your heart when you spotted it and its black cat pattern at the local art market you went to together. Mingyu might like it too, seeing how he smiles at it (or maybe the ring) every time he leaves or comes home.
Which could mean anything.
This guy in front of him bristled at Mingyu's proclamation of "husband," metaphorical hackles raised, like a... black cat.
Fuck.
"Haha, uhm, anyways..." Mingyu had put his hand out instinctively, but when the guy doesn't reciprocate, it's fine. He didn't want to shake your friend Jihoon's hand, really. "Did you want to come in?"
Your touch on Jihoon's arm becomes preemptively supportive, like the guy could keel over at any moment, and for unknown reasons, Mingyu wants to be the one who's gone pale. To be the one you're touching while your friend Jihoon watches on from the sidelines.
Which could mean anything.
Because your friend Jihoon is only the guy walking into his home -- your home, yours and Mingyu's home, the home where his and your wedding/non-wedding bands live in a cute little dish in the cubbyhole near the front door. He's only the guy who had a weird depressive/ghosting episode the last time you were in a completely fake relationship to save some guy's ass. You told Mingyu this with your brows furrowed and a cute, confused pout on your lips as you wondered why your old friend was acting that way back then, right after you agreed to come to Mingyu's high school reunion with that ring on your finger.
Of course, Mingyu would normally never ask you to join him for an event outside of his company -- and you actually only agreed to pop in for a few minutes -- but one of his coworkers happens to be in a relationship with someone from his graduating class, and word got around and...well. He just likes when you're with him.
Which could mean anything.
Internally, when you told that one story about "my friend Jihoon" (one of many, many anecdotes), Mingyu was sure he knew exactly why the guy went oddly quiet after you started "dating" someone he wasn't, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he asked what food from the reunion you'd want him to save for you when you show up.
Now, Mingyu doesn't have the luxury of brushing off some friend from your past who may or may not have absolutely definitely no-doubt-about-it had a thing for you. He can't just blow past it because that childhood friend is standing in his kitchen, eyes locked with yours over the huge glass of water he's chugging because you asked him to.
And you're laughing, endeared and with a sparkle in your eyes that Mingyu isn't sure if he's ever seen before.
You pat your friend Jihoon's head. A silent, good job, which Mingyu can't help watching.
He thought that was his and your thing.
The habit must've come from when you were younger...
Mingyu stands there, off to the side and feeling out of place in his own home.
My old friend Jihoon hates this stuff, but I'm obsessed with it. Jihoon, my friend from my hometown, once said I made the best belgian waffles, so you can trust me with the iron, I swear. You don't drink? My friend Jihoon doesn't either -- but not because he's sober or anything -- he's just got a major sweet tooth.
Oh, this is Jihoon's favourite song.
You go to the fridge to find something for your friend to eat, and while your back is turned, Jihoon looks over at Mingyu.
It's like an x-ray. Somehow, Jihoon's eyes land on him, and he feels bared to the world.
Mingyu knows Jihoon is in love with you. Could tell as soon as he saw him.
But, he realizes as your friend furrows his brow and looks at him with thinly veiled jealousy...
synopsis: the age old curse, falling in love with your best friend (and trying to convince yourself you aren’t)
pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader
genre/s: non-idol au, pure angst, one-shot (?) smau
listen to: i love you, i’m sorry - gracie abrams
from reese, with love
been a while since i wrote, might be rusty buuuuuut this song had a hold on me that i couldn’t resist aaaaa who knows maybe pt 2,, let me know if you want one! hahaha hope you’re all well :)
