SEVENTEEN

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[moonhoures]

One Night Stand

🕷️ kinktober — day 2: anonymous sex / roleplay 🕸️

pairing: hoshi (svt) + reader (afab)

genre: non-idol!au, fluff, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, quick mention of spitting on a dick, pet name: ‘gorgeous’ (for reader), creampie, roleplay, anonymous (?) sex

word count: ~2.5k

synopsis: you and hoshi have been married for a few years now. to keep the spark between you two alive, you decide to go out and have a one night stand

a/n: writing this nearly made me a hoshi stan so i hope it effects you like it did me. enjoy <3

posted: october 2, 2023

— kinktober masterlist —

Clubs were in your past, or so you had thought. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been in one; it had to be well over five years by now. Dancing and drinking were things you indulged in only on occasion nowadays, rather than every weekend like you used to. Since you finished college and started a steady career, you had slowed down a bit, even more so when you got in a serious relationship with your now-husband, Soonyoung.

Your husband was far from boring or conservative, but you found a comfort in each other that mellowed you two out. A sense of ease came with the normalcy that your relationship provided you. But with that normalcy also came routine. Soonyoung was a co-owner of a dance studio in the city, and you were a higher-up at a local marketing business. He got up at five a.m. to head to the gym before opening the dance studio, and you slept in until seven a.m. to be at work for nine.

The two of you would come home anywhere between five and seven p.m. depending on how busy you were. You enjoyed reading or watching a couple episodes of whatever show you were watching. Soonyoung would come home and review the videos he had taken of his choreography that day, or he would watch other people’s choreographies on social media for inspiration. On most nights, dinner time and the hour or so right before you fell asleep were all you had to be with each other. Your sex life was fine by most standards, but both of you had noticed it had dwindled in the past year or so with your work schedules growing more and more tight.

That’s how you ended up alone at a club one Saturday night. You sat at the bar, a few sips left of your favorite drink in front of you as you people-watched. There was another girl at the opposite end of the bar, probably freshly twenty-one if you had to guess. She was pretty, and she had an equally attractive guy hitting on her. Whatever he was saying was making her laugh, and it made you smile a little, your heart growing warm. You remembered when you were her at one point, years ago. Soonyoung was the guy making you laugh back then, always the best mood maker. You missed those nights.

“Excuse me,” a voice startled you, coming from someone closely behind your shoulder. Your head swiveled to see a man around your age with blond hair and sharp, slightly-slanted, dark eyes. He was around 5’10”, towering over your seated figure. He was dressed in a simple, chic outfit, fit for a night of going out and getting laid—which you assumed was his goal. The low-cut, white tank top he wore that exposed his collarbones certainly gave that impression, “Is this seat taken?”

The man gestured to the seat directly to your right, and you shook your head, “No, go ahead.”

“Are you here by yourself?” he asked as he sat, an almost concerned look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you admitted, taking a sip from your drink. There was a ring of water left from the glass on the counter.

“Wow,” he smiled incredulously.

“What?”

“I just don’t understand how such a beautiful woman like yourself could be at a place like this alone. Are you waiting for someone?”

You smiled, warmth flooding your cheeks from his flattery, “No, I just came for a good time.”

“And are you? Having a good time, I mean?” he asked.

If you were honest, the answer would be no. You had only been here less than twenty minutes, but the closest thing you had to “fun” so far was the DJ playing your favorite song. You had tried to do some dancing when you first got here, but it felt weird knowing you were by yourself, so you tapped out after two songs.

“No,” you bashfully confessed, averting your gaze to escape the pitiful look he was sure to give you.

“Would you like to dance?”

Why not?

You took the hand he offered you, letting him lead you to the dance floor. And for the first time in years, you let go. You danced to your heart’s content, feeling more carefree and loose than you had felt in a long time. A grin settled on your face as you danced with the man that flipped your night upside down, a wide smile on his lips as he watched you dance with him. At one point you were grinding against him, his arms circling your waist. His forehead was pressed against yours. It felt like you two were the only ones in the room, the two main characters of your own movie while the DJ orchestrated the soundtrack just for you.

“You wanna go back to my place, gorgeous?”

The question was spoken directly into your ear so you could hear over the music, but you would be lying if you said his breath fanning over your neck didn’t make you shiver. Right now you wanted nothing more than to say-

“Yes.”

A ride in his fancy car later, down familiar roads, led you to a nice house right on the outskirts of the city. The man took your hand, your fingers naturally intertwining with his as he took out his keys and smoothly got the front door open for the two of you. He didn’t bother turning any of the lights on as he continued to lead you throughout the home, swiftly moving through the main hallway until he paused. He hesitated, glancing at the closed door to his right. His eyes held a playful look in them when he gazed at you over his shoulder before opening the door and bringing you into the room.

It was a mostly unused room from what you could see, one big, wooden desk was pushed up against the wall with only a laptop, a notebook, and a few assorted pens and pencils strewn on top. Aside from the desk, there was a desk chair, a sofa, a rolled-up yoga mat, and some other small sets of work out gear.

You watched as the man carelessly pushed the notebook and writing utensils to the floor across the room. He at least had a heart to nudge the laptop to the edge of the desk and close it. Before you could say anything, he was using his hands to hoist you up onto the desk, bunching your dress up higher on your thighs as he did.

“Are you always this careless?” you asked him, giving him a pointed look.

He merely shrugged, “It’s my roommate’s stuff anyways.”

You tried to keep your composure as his hands snaked under the edge of your dress, dangerously close to your underwear, “Oh, your roommate, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly, “It’s just shopping lists and stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

A giggle erupted from you as he buried his lips into the space of your neck, pressing kisses and teeth along the skin. It tickled there, and it’s almost like he knew that. While he distracted you, his hands expertly peeled your underwear off, letting them fall at his feet. It wasn’t until your rear was dragged practically off the edge of the desk that you realized how close he was getting to having you. All he needed to do was get his cock out.

“You want this, right?” he asked, looking for consent before going any further. His eyes were warm and genuine meeting yours, but he was met with only a flurry of lust-clouded eyes looking back.

“I need it,” you corrected him, bringing your hand up to the back of his neck. You pulled him in for a fiery kiss, a mesh of tongue and teeth and spit that was so messy but so perfect. He hummed in surprise at the sudden force, but you felt him smile against your lips before his hands reached up to hold your face while he showered you with more kisses.

In the midst of making out, you got ahold of his belt, tugging at the buckle until the leather slipped out of it easily. He grunted into your mouth as you swiftly pulled the belt undone and unzipped his jeans. Your fingers dug into the top of his pants, pushing the denim down, but you were met with a little resistance from his hips.

He took over, pushing the pants down to his ankles before kicking them aside. He then bunched your dress up higher on your waist. Your mouth watered watching him get a grip on his erection, the tip flushed and the shaft decorated with veins. You felt yourself already clenching on nothing, and it only got worse when he let a long glob of his spit fall straight onto his dick. He caught it effortlessly, as if he practiced this multiple times a day, and then used it to lubricate himself for you.

With his hand still pumping his cock, he looked at you, tilting his head just the slightest, “Open up for me.”

You didn’t even need him to elaborate, you simply widened your knees, allowing him to take your thigh in his hand. He held you just like that as he fed the tip of his dick between your folds, a wanton moan involuntarily leaving his lips. As he continued to seat himself inside of you, you held back, biting your lip.

“God, you’re so tight,” he said, tilting his head back before looking back down where you two met. He watched himself slowly pull out before bucking his hips forward again. The desk rattled the tiniest bit, and he loved the sound it made. Some primal part of him wanted to fuck you until the desk broke, but the rational, clear-headed part kept him cool.

His thrusts grew in pace and accuracy, aiming to find your g-spot with every stroke. It only took a few tries before he found it, your eyes nearly rolling back and your jaw going slightly slack when he did. A satisfied grin appeared on his lips, and he continued to thrust in that specific pattern that he pioneered. He held you at the waist, keeping you in the position he wanted as he dove between your hips again and again. The desk was shoved against the wall with every movement, sure to make marks on the pale structure, but neither of you cared enough. It can always be repainted.

“Gonna cum for me, gorgeous? Huh?” he spoke through bated breaths, absolutely eating up the way moans were freely cascading from your mouth as if you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. As if he had fucked you into a babbling idiot, “You wanted me to show you a good time. Is this not good enough?”

His voice was patronizing but also as sweet as honey. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, urging you to look him in the eye. But it was difficult to look at him steadily when he was pounding into you the way he was, making your entire body bounce.

“N-no,” you managed to say, “So good. Perfect.”

“Perfect,” he repeated with a short laugh, “That’s right.”

Wood creaked underneath you and thumped against the wall behind you, but the man fucking you still grabbed your thighs, hoisting them up a little. The kisses on your shoulder lightened up as he focused on getting you to finish. He was going to ask if you were close, but when your breath quickened and your lower back arched, he knew he had thirty seconds (tops) to prepare for your orgasm to hit. He kept the same pace and force he had, letting it coax the climax out of you. His pride swelled as he felt you clench on him, multiple times, while you came. Warmth and arousal flooded your core, leaving his cock wet and dripping when he pulled out. A mix of your clear fluid and his creamy seed slathered on him.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his palm soothing over the skin of your thigh, from your knee down to your hip. He was trying to loosen your legs up so that you could relax, “How was that?”

“You definitely know how to show a girl a good time,” you mumbled, making him laugh.

“Yeah, well, it’s a one-time thing for me, sorry to disappoint.”

You sighed, “I knew it was too good to be true.”

He laughed some more, placing a kiss on your temple before landing a gentle slap on the side of your rear, “Let’s go clean up. Then you’re out of here in the morning.”

You chuckled, letting him help you down onto your feet. The two of you quickly made your way to the bedroom, and he picked out clothes for the both of you to wear before you headed into the shower. After cleaning up, you two got comfortable in the large bed, and he didn’t shy away from spooning with you like you expected him to.

When you woke up the next morning, the space beside you was empty, but the smell of breakfast being cooked wafted down the hall to you. You groaned as you stretched your limbs out, peeling the sheets back so you could get out of bed. Your feet shuffled against the floor all the way to the kitchen where you saw your husband standing at the stove. A towel was draped over his shoulder while he prodded at the bottom of some pancakes with a spatula. You tried to stifle a laugh when you saw his unruly bedhead, but a small squeak escaped you, notifying him of your appearance.

Soonyoung’s face lit up, “Good morning, gorgeous! Sleep well?”

“Sure did,” you smiled, walking up to him so you could give him a morning kiss on his cheek, “You?”

“Like a baby,” he smirked, flipping the pancakes over to reveal perfectly golden, fluffy discs, “Oh, and uh, sorry about the spare room. I’ll clean that up in a bit.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin remained, “Yeah, just be thankful you didn’t knock over my laptop, or we would have had an issue.”

After a few moments of comfortable silence, only broken by the sound of you gathering plates and cups for you two, Soonyoung spoke up again, “Did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah, I did,” you felt your cheeks grow warm under his glance, recalling what took place in the club and the spare room, “It felt a little weird, but in a really good way.”

“Yeah? How so?” he asked, setting the pancakes on a plate and grabbing a fork for you.

“It felt like we were in college,” you said, leaning your cheek against his arm as you side-hugged him, “It felt like I fell in love with you all over again.”

“Good, that was the point,” he smiled, kissing your temple. He added, “And I did too. Fall in love with you all over again. We should do that again some time.”

“Yeah, we should.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite & i’ll tag my fav hoshi stans @hoshiseon and @hoshologies 🖤

[shuadrive-deactivated20231030]

[12:00 AM]

pairing: jeon wonwoo x gender-neutral reader genre: fluff, established relationship!au words: 265

you’re woken up by a kiss. literally. 

wonwoo smiles against your lips, only allowing a hair’s breadth of space to form in between you both as you let out an annoyed huff. you roll onto your back and he towers over you, arms braced on either side of your head.

“hi,” he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“go to sleep,” you grumble, cracking one eye open lazily.

“it’s midnight.”

“exactly.” you try to turn over, but wonwoo nuzzles into your neck, pressing a brief, open-mouthed kiss to the sliver of skin exposed near your shoulder. 

“you know what that means.” he presses his fingers into your waist, bunching up your t-shirt. his hair tickles your neck; you smile.

“it means you need to sleep,” you say pointedly, squinting into the darkness. you bring a hand up and card it through his hair. he sighs softly when you lightly scratch on his scalp.

“and it also means it’s a new day already.”

“‘s not a new day ‘til the sun comes up,” you murmur sleepily.

wonwoo doesn’t argue. he only grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist. the muted city lights that penetrate the darkness through your open window are reflected in his eyes—but he looks at you like you’ve hung up all the stars in the sky, just for him.

“happy birthday,” he says, mouth splitting into a wide grin, and despite your drowsiness, you let him pull you into a kiss, and somehow you already know this day is going to be a special one.

author's note: this was originally written for another member of a different group on a sideblog that has now been deleted. i decided to rework it a little and post it here. thanks for reading, and i hope you enjoyed! :)

drabbles masterlist

[kikohao-deactivated20250404]

9:09 PM, lovers of the night

pairing; clingy!wonwoo x reader

word count; 687 words [drabble]

warnings; nothing (??)

-- comfort, fluff, established relationship, lowercase intended

where wonwoo is tired from practice and he's grateful for your efforts to make him feel better.

a tired and heavy sigh left wonwoo's lips, an almost loggy body dragging himself towards the living room of the apartment after he locked the front door behind him.

after a tedious amount of practicing for their new comeback, his throat was almost sore from the vocal practices and an even more sore body to top that off.

wonwoo loved performing, he really did. but at times like this did he wish to take a few weeks off because of how grueling their routine could be.

"won?" your head peeks through the entryway of the kitchen, a small smile on your lips at the sight of your boyfriend. "i'm glad you're back. you're just in time for dinner."

despite wonwoo's exhaustion, he manages to flash you a smile, drop his things on the couch before walking over to the kitchen space to wrap his arms around you.

"i missed you..." he mumbles while burying his face in your hair. his grip tightens on your waist a bit upon feeling your palm touch his skin, gently rubbing his arm.

wonwoo was not someone who's very into physical contact, and if he did initiate it, it would be at times like this where he feels the most vulnerable. rr simply, if he feels like extra missing you and holding you against him was his only cure.

"you just saw me this morning." you chuckled, turning around to properly hug him. "but if it makes you feel better i missed you too."

wonwoo grumbles against you but said nothing else. what he does next is to lay his head against your shoulders as you continue to now rub his shoulders.

"you should take a shower before we eat." you ran your fingers through his hair, invoking a content sigh to leave him. "then we can put on a movie, cuddle and eat snacks."

wonwoo smiles grateful against your skin, mumbling a soft 'thank-you' before he reluctantly pulls away.

it took the both of you twenty minutes to eat dinner, but even then, it was filled with light conversation that prompted short (but with smiles) answers from your boyfriend who at one point was leaning his head against yours.

just to give him the extra comfort, you took his hands and fiddled with them before you instructed him to lay down on the couch whilst you cleaned up. wonwoo protested, but with a stern glare coming from you that told him to back off, he simply agreed.

besides, it was not like the state of his body was gonna make him do much help anyways.

ten minutes of cleaning later, you finally arrived at the living room with a tub of ice cream on your hand and two spoons.

wonwoo was laying down on the cushions as per your request, eyes lighting up seeing you emerge from the kitchen as he sat himself, scooting near the arm of the couch.

he pats the empty space beside him. "sit here please..."

you place the ice cream on the coffee table, glancing at the TV screen seeing his jeonghan hyung's Netflix account on display. He then plays a studio ghibli movie while still cutely patting the vacant space.

you complied, plopping yourself beside him and wonwoo wasted no time to snuggle himself against your side, one arm wrapped across your midsection.

you sat there, running your palm on his back and occasionally, absentmindedly, planting small kisses on his head.

this prompts another wave of smiles from him as he silently watches the movie with you.

and an hour later, wonwoo finds himself entangled on the couch with you with you pressing your face against his chest, an arm across his waist and with him, hugging you close to his warmth.

the movie was long forgotten, TV was turned off and screen black. his body was still store and he was still tired and sleeping on the couch was uncomfortable but he had no plan in mind to move you in your room.

at nights like this, when he feels the most vulnerable and tired, holding you close was the only remedy wonwoo needed.

[etherealyoungk]

━☆ first kiss with seventeen: wonwoo

♡ first kiss with seventeen series ♡ masterlist ♡

paring: wonwoo x reader

warnings: kissing, fluff

wordcount: 1.1k

you've always been a romantic. okay, maybe a hopeless romantic. and reading all the romance books that you did definitely did not help at all. in fact, it made you even more hopeless.

and with all the kiss scenes you read, it only made you wonder what it would be like to kiss wonwoo. you and him had taken things slow and you were more than happy. but once in a while the thought of wanting to kiss wonwoo, a real kiss crept up into your mind. you'd made up countless scenarios in your head about it and just thinking about it made you want to kick your feet in the air and punch a pillow. so how exactly did you end up being pinned to the wall by wonwoo?

it's only when you come back to your room after having to go receive a parcel that you find the book that you were reading in wonwoo's hands. normally you wouldn't mind but you had stopped midway during a kiss scene, and somehow the thought of wonwoo reading that made you shy for no reason. you observe wonwoo as he reads the words on the pages and he looks up, noticing you. “i didn’t realize kisses in books were so dreamy”, he says as he hands the book over to you when you step closer to him.

“yeah, they kinda are. some of them are really cute and sweet”, you say, trying not to sound like a hopeless romantic as you tell wonwoo. “some are really really cute”, you emphasize, sitting down, thinking about all the cute kiss scenes you’ve practically engraved in your mind. “do you want to recreate it?”, he asks, without skipping a beat, making you blink up at him, processing what he just said.

“what?”, you ask again and he pushes his glasses up his nose bashfully before repeating, “do you want to recreate it, the kiss scene?”.

you blink up at him like a deer caught in headlights and the thought of it makes you smile but you try to hold it in. but wonwoo doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth lift up.

“love?”, he prompts again tilting his head to the side as he observes you.

“really?”, you finally ask softly as you stand up. and he nods. “tell me baby, anything you want”, he encourages, noticing how shy you’ve suddenly gotten.  so wonwoo decides to take matters into his own hands.

wonwoo reaches out his hand and takes the book from your hands, opening the page to the kiss scene he read earlier. his brows are slightly furrowed as he reads the scene and then looks back up at you. he puts the book back down on the bed before walking over to the door. “what are you-“, you don’t finis your sentence as wonwoo proceeds to lean against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

“hi”, he says, saying the same line the character in the book had said. you let out a soft laugh as you walk closer to wonwoo, standing in front of him. “hi”, you say and he smiles sweetly back at you. he moves off the doorframe and steps closer to you, reaching out as his arms caress your waist, gently pulling you closer towards him. and before you know it, wonwoo spins you around and pinned against the wall.

“wonwoo”, is all you can mumble as you look at him, before breaking eye contact and looking down, getting flustered. he was so close, so so close that you were pretty sure wonwoo could hear how fast your heart was beating right now. his thumb brushes against your chin as he tilts your head up to look at him. “you’re making me nervous”, you mumble in a whisper as your hands lay loosely around his neck. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as his thumb gently caresses your cheek softly looking at you, never once breaking eye contact, which was making you even more nervous.

“am i doing okay as the role of a book boyfriend so far?”, he asks and you almost chuckle at his questions. “y-yeah you’re doing exceptionally well”, you reply softly, getting distracted by the sight of his lips that are so so close.

“someone’s getting impatient i see”, he teases you, when he sees where your gaze is, making you bite your lip and give him a small glare, which makes him chuckle.

he leans in and your eyes flutter shut, and you’re waiting in anticipation but it’s only when you peek one eye open that you see wonwoo is looking at you with a stupid silly smile on his face.

“wonwoo!”, you whine, protesting. “baby, you’re so cute right now”, is all he tells before pecking your cheek. “i'm just doing what i read, trying to act out a book boyfriend now and you’re going to get mad at me?”, he asks playfully.

“but that wasn’t in the scene, you’re just being a tease”, you complain and the sound of his chuckle is like music to your ears, you can’t even be mad anymore.

he kisses your cheek again and looks at you before finally closing the gap between your lips as he kisses you. it’s a gentle, soft kiss and he pulls away a little too soon for your liking, making you pout in confusion.

“that wasn’t a kiss”, you tell and he just looks at you. “care to show me how a kiss is then?”, he asks softly, whispering against your lips and that’s all you need to pull wonwoo forward by the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. he slowly moves his lips against yours and if wonwoo wasn’t holding you, you’re sure that you’d melt in his arms right that moment. his hand encircles your waist tighter, pulling you closer as he kisses you a little deeper, with a dizzying passion.  his lips were soft against yours and when you pull away, you were breathing a bit hard, trying to catch your breath as you look at wonwoo, who was still so close to you, his nose brushing against yours.

“so", he starts. "how would you rate me on a scale of one to ten for being a book boyfriend”, he asks, making you smile as you lean your head back against the wall, looking up at him.

“eleven out of ten, you make the perfect book boyfriend….and the best part? you’re all mine”, you tell and he grins, leaning in to capture your lips once again.

taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @joshuaahong @slytherinshua @fairyhaos @rubywonu @wqnwoos @wheeboo @icyminghao @kyeomyun @minhui896 @gam3bo1z @graybaeismytae @musingsofananxiouspotato @thehao8 @cheiyoma @keiyx @novalpha @fallingforshua29 @txtandroll @nishloves @kokoiinuts @writingsbybirdie @hauvits @jennimisu @dahliatopia @prpldahy @ryujineebae @onedumbho3 @weird-bookworm @yo-wassup-boi @idubiluv and @odxrilove - tysm for beta reading this for me <3

drop an ask or comment if you want to be added to the taglist for this series!

[chicken-jeonghan]

I cannot erase this from my imagination. ♥️😳

[icyminghao]

VvWonwoovV is live!

pairing: streamer!wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff, drabble warning(s): none

summary: wonwoo goes live to play games, and interacts with a zealous and flirty viewer.

“I’ve been stuck at this for a while now, huh?” Wonwoo speaks into the camera after a while of silence, having been too engrossed in trying to crack the code and open the locked box. He takes a break from guessing to look at the comments, selectively choosing some to read out.

wonusrockstar: have you tried 143? that’s definitely the answer

“143? That’s code for ‘I love you’, isn’t it? Nice try, but the lock needs a 4-digit code,” Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head at the user’s antics.

kkakkamori: hey, those graphics are amazing.

wonusrockstar: you’re a meanie. what about 3898 then?

“I know, right? I turned on the RTX shaders, that’s probably why the graphics are killing it right now,” Wonwoo hums in agreement, going back to trying to crack the code.

wonusrockstar: hey, are you ignoring me?

“No, babe, I’m not ignoring you,” Wonwoo glances at the camera for a split second before returning to his game. “also, I haven’t seen people use pager codes for quite some time, I’ll have to admit that took me a while.”

User wonusrockstar doesn’t leave anymore comments after Wonwoo’s jab, presumably fuming over him blatantly dodging their attempts to flirt, and Wonwoo chuckles to himself.

“I’m probably going to be stuck on this for quite some time, guys, there’s way too many suspicious evidence that could be used as the code.” Wonwoo sighs, moving his avatar around the area for relevant clues. “Do you guys have any idea what the code may be?”

wonusrockstar: if it’s 1024, you have to take me out on a date.

bobpuls_favourite: hey, stop flirting with wonwoo, he’s mine!

wonusrockstar: suggest a code then, and wonwoo can decide for himself >:( (i know you want me)

“Wow, thanks for the suggestions, guys,” Wonwoo chuckles as he scrolls through the stream comments.

He tries a few combinations suggested by his viewers, all of which aren’t the correct one. Wonwoo’s eye catches user wonusrockstar’s new comment pushing for ‘1024’ to be entered. Shrugging, he casually keys in the numbers with no expectations.

wonusrockstar: you owe me a date now, loverboy! ^^

Wonwoo rolls his eyes playfully. “Hey, I didn’t agree to anything. Thanks for the code, anyway.”

Wonwoo continues on with the game for about half an hour after cracking the code, interacting with his viewers through the comments along the way. He notices user wonusrockstar’s absence, and listens to hear for any commotion outside his gaming room. Sure enough, you walk in a few seconds later with a bag of takeout in your hand.

“It’s nine p.m. already, you should eat something,” whispering, you place the takeout on his desk.

Wonwoo gives you a soft smile and mutes his microphone. “Thanks, my little rockstar.”

You freeze, breaking into a sheepish grin. “How did you know?”

“You haven’t been very subtle, wearing my favourite cap and all,” Wonwoo chuckles.

Oh, you realise. On your head sits Wonwoo’s favourite cap, with the words ‘My cat is a rockstar and I’m their manager’ embroidered on it.

“I guess you caught me, smartass.” you giggle, turning on your heel to leave, but not before turning back to wink at Wonwoo.

“You still owe me a date, though.”

a/n: i honestly don’t know what this is i’m in my wonwoo feels era

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua

masterlist

[miraclewoozi]

your unlucky-in-love best friend goes on a date with someone who, by all accounts, should be his perfect person. so... how exactly do you end up being the one who tucks his sorry, drunk ass into bed?

pairing; lee seokmin x gn!reader.  (he calls reader pretty once but that is all<3) content; fluff / some mild angst towards the middle / pining / friends to… still friends but with some ~tension~ and a snuggle? w/c; 4.6k and a smidge. warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption (offscreen), drunkenness, some suggestiveness (MINORS DNI), reader has some hard thoughts, a bit of affectionate touching but nothing deliberately sexual? seok is needy and cuddly (and a terrible flirt). let me know if i've forgotten anything! note; this was originally gonna be part of a mini-series/multi-chap situation but!! i ended up hating the full thing and only being attached to like. two parts of it lol so here we are! there could potentially be a second (see: smutty?) part to this? if people want it? i don’t know yet! but this kinda just works as it’s own standalone thing anyway i think~ happy sunday <3

The first text comes through just after you finally set your phone down on the bedside table. Your eyes are dry and have started to sting from a long evening staring at screens, your bones feel impossibly heavy, and you think maybe you’re settling down for a semi-decent night’s sleep when you hear the buzz of a notification. A buzz you initially plan to ignore. It can’t be anything that important: who would be trying to reach you at this time of night, anyway? 

You roll away from the device and snuggle down into your pillows, pulling the sleeves of your — his — jumper down over your palms and resting them just in front of your face. This particular garment stopped smelling like Seokmin after the second time it went through your washing machine, but there’s a familiarity in the slightly rough inner lining that makes you want to wear it to sleep in every night, forever. He never liked it when his hoodies were too new, too soft, leaving balls of fluff all over his t-shirts and vests; you don’t know when you started to feel the same way, but you’ve realised recently that you do.

Your eyes flutter closed and your body relaxes, head starting to feel fuzzy in that calm, white-noise, lovely way. You haven’t felt this tired and genuinely sleepy for… months. It’s bliss. 

And then your phone buzzes again. You squeeze your eyes tighter, determined not to lose this warm, comfortable feeling, but your phone vibrates and vibrates and vibrates and with an audible groan, you sit back up, reaching over to see what, exactly, is so damn important at 02:23 in the fucking morning.

Seokmin’s contact name flashes up on the lock screen and you see that there are seven unread messages from him in the space of the last 3 minutes. Instantly, your brows draw together: he’s seldom shied away from a double text, but you’ve never known him to pull a septuple, and you can’t feel but feel a little bit of dread in your stomach as you read through them. 

> seokmin: yn

> seokmin: ynnnnnn

> seokmin: i lied

> seokmin: i didmt go homr yet

> seokmin: can you come get mr

> seokmin: mr

> seokmin: m e

You shoot back a message instantly asking where he is, turning on your bedside lamp and already swinging your legs out from under the covers. You keep hold of your phone in one hand, waiting for it to buzz again to tell you he’s given you his location. With the other, you search for and pull on some sweatpants, sliding into a pair of sneakers. His replies come simultaneously too quickly, and entirely not fast enough.

> seokmin: u knkw the bar in town with the bear statiiue oitside

> seokmin: lol

> seokmin: do you think i ciuld beat thsi bear in s fight???

> y/n: christ. okay, wait inside for me. i’ll be there in 15. 

> y/n: also, no. you couldn’t. x

Your veins feel alive with adrenaline and worry as you grab your keys and head down the stairs to your car. The drive is quiet — you don’t even waste the few seconds it would take to plug into the AUX and pick a playlist, leaving it up to the radio to keep you company on the way. It doesn’t take too long: soon enough, you’re pulling up alongside the infamous bear statue to find your best friend sitting on the curb, propped up against the marble base.

“I thought I told you to wait inside?” you chide, rolling down the passenger side window so you can announce your arrival. It’s like he’s moving in slow-motion, or maybe your words just take an extra few seconds to reach him? Either way, he doesn’t lift his head until a silence has settled between you, and he doesn’t smile until his slightly glazed-over eyes land on your face.

“Y/n!” He cheers, lifting himself off the floor and staggering upright, pushing a hand through his hair. “Hi! Yeah, I know — but look, it was too hot in there. It was so hot. And I didn’t want you to wait-…” Hiccup. “To have to wait for me.” 

He slides into the passenger seat with a contented sigh, a mess of long limbs he can’t quite control, adjusting the vent in front of him so that the cold from your air-con breezes against his flushed cheeks. As he settles, you reach over him, pulling his seatbelt across his chest. 

“I was getting to that,” he whines, pouting his pretty lips at you, and you click the belt in place with a laugh. History tells you that when he’s drunk, Seokmin doesn’t always believe in the power of the seatbelt, among other things, so you think maybe you could be forgiven for not believing him this time.

“Okay, dumbass. Sure you were.”

He reaches down into the passenger footwell for your AUX cord, bumping his head on the dashboard and letting out an exaggerated hiss as he sits back upright. Nonetheless, he plugs his phone in and presses play on his own night-driving playlist, holding the device between both of his hands as you start off towards his place.

“So…” you prompt, because he’s staring blankly out the windscreen with a tiny smile on his lips and you’re concerned that maybe, this time, he has actually managed to drink himself stupid. He rolls his head over to look at you, and fond bliss is written into every line of his face. “What happened?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, still just… staring at you as you drive. Staring, even though every detail of you is committed to his memory already. Staring, even though he knows how your eyelashes flutter when you blink. Even though he knows how the muscles in your throat bob as you swallow the saliva on your tongue. Even though he’s sat in your passenger seat enough times to remember exactly how the late-night glow of the street-lamps overhead catch and illuminate the curve of your nose, how they highlight the point of your chin. He knows all this, but he can’t help himself. Staring is… indulgent. So, so indulgent. But he is pretty drunk and he can get away with it when you’re focused on the road — at least, that’s what he tells himself.  

When he does attempt to speak, just as you slow to a stop at a set of traffic lights, the sparkle in his gaze falters. He faces forward again, shoulders rising and slumping in a meek ‘I don’t know’.

“She was… perfect, I think,” he tries to explain, and you glance across to look at him; his lips are both non-existent, pulled between his teeth and he has worry lines creasing up his forehead. With the hand not holding the wheel, you reach over, pressing your fingertips to where his eyebrows have scrunched to try and get him to relax the muscles there. It sort of works, if only because he releases an involuntary breath of a laugh.

“Not perfect,” you gasp, dramatic and teasing even though it stings a little to hear him say that out loud. “I mean, that definitely explains why you were out drinking, alone, three hours after you told me you were heading home.” He turns his head fully away from you, now, letting your hand drop dangerously towards his lap. You pull it back to yourself before it collides with his jeans, clearing your throat. The traffic signal changes to green, and you drive ahead. “I’m kidding. Come on. Talk to me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, despondent, crossing his arms over his chest. You’re not sure you’ve seen him acting like this since you were teenagers. It’s a strange twist away from your usual, very easy-going banter.

“Seok...” You try again. “I won’t stop for nuggets if you don’t tell me.” 

“Don’t stop, then.”

“Seokmin…”

“Don’t-…” It comes out quickly, the vein in the side of his neck popping until he takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly. “Y/n. I’m tired, I just-… I don’t wanna talk about it. Can you please just… take me home?”

He’s still struggling with his words, but he isn’t abrasive in the way he speaks; that’s something you learned about Seokmin very early on in your friendship. He doesn’t raise his voice at you. He doesn’t get deep and gravelly when he’s pissed off. He just… seems to let himself feel things super intensely for a few seconds at a time and then he short-circuits, goes flat. It might be convenient for him, but it gets frustrating for you. Especially when he encourages you to open up to him as much as he does. 

His head is bowed and cradled in his hands when you pull up outside his apartment block, and you unfasten his seatbelt for him which jolts him upright. You stay facing front, though, guilt coursing through your veins at the thought of maybe having pushed him too far. You just want to understand. Why was his date being good such a bad thing?

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t be,” you tell him, and he scoffs, but quietly.

“Y/n,” he sighs, his crown falling against the headrest; he reaches over to you, places a hand just above your knee, and you try to ignore how it feels like someone has crashed their car into you from behind. How your heart lurches forwards in your chest. How your adrenaline spikes.

“I mean it. I shouldn’t have kept pushing. I’m sorry.”

He chews this over for a moment, but he doesn’t remove his hand, and you find that maybe you don’t want him to. Not yet, at least.

“Will you help me get up the stairs?”

“Of course I will.”

With one of his arms over your shoulders, your own supporting his waist, the pair of you begin the obnoxiously long ascent up through his building to his apartment. He’s lived here for a year and a half, and you think maybe the elevator has been working… for a total of about a week, since then? God forbid he ever got injured and couldn’t climb six flights just to get himself home. The climb is bad enough as is.

Somewhere around landing number four, Seokmin pulls away from you, mumbling something about having the spins and needing to sit down. You ease him to perch on one of the windowsills, sitting down next to him with your arm still around his hips to keep him balanced on the narrow ledge.

“You should’ve taken me back to your place,” he grumbles, doubling over with his elbows against his knees and his fingers linked behind his neck, taking deep breaths.

“Get your feet flat on the floor. Look at your shoelaces. Breathe slow. It’ll help,” you coo, and he shuffles a little so that he can do exactly that (not without wobbling and almost landing on his face, and he thanks you and your “super strong arms” for keeping him from such a fate). After a few more seconds of deep breathing and grounding, he lifts his head. Crisis averted.

“Are you-… like, a witch, or something?” he asks out of nowhere, and you snort so loudly that your throat hurts. He keeps staring at you, waiting for you to answer. Apparently your laugh wasn’t response enough.

“What are you talking about, Seok?” 

He rolls his eyes at you, as if you should just know. “How did you know how to fix me? It’s like magic.”

“Because I know you, stupid. Come on. Two more flights and I’ll get you into bed.”

“S’that a promise?” he asks, grinning to himself as you haul him back to standing, and he stumbles slightly against you, hands braced on your ribs. Sweating a little, you manoeuvre yourself away from him, landing a gentle, playful hit to his side. 

It doesn’t make your heart flutter, hearing what can only be a drunk rendition of his bedroom voice. It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.

“Save it for your next date with Ms. Perfect, would you?”

“Agh. You’re the worst.”

“I know. Now come on.”

After a few minutes of fumbling through Seokmin’s pockets yourself for his keys (it’s as if he’s forgotten how both hands and pockets work in his now very giggly stupor), apparently brushing every single one of his ticklish spots on the way, you’re inside his apartment and on your knees, untying his shoes for him, easing them off his feet. You don’t think he can be trusted to lean down to do it on his own without breaking something.

Or himself.

“If you go get ready for bed, I’ll bring you some water?” you suggest, sitting back on your heels, smiling up at him. There’s a weight in the gaze he’s looking down at you with, in the way his tongue darts out over his lips, and how his mouth doesn’t fully close after. You tell yourself he’s definitely only looking at you like this because he’s drunk, because you’re helping him — the boy doesn’t know ass from elbow, right now — but there’s no escaping the fact that your stomach drops a little at his intensity.

“Okay,” he strains after a moment, and you stand up and away from him, kicking off your own shoes. He heads in one direction towards his bedroom, and you move in the other towards his kitchen. 

Stop it, you tell yourself, leaning over the sink and splashing cold water from the faucet onto your face. Stop thinking about him like that. He’s your best friend. Stop it.

But… shit, you can’t get those big brown eyes out of your head. The way he looked down at you, the softness of his brows, the heat radiating off him. There’s nothing you can do to stop the way your thighs press together standing in his kitchen, in clothes that— you realise now— are entirely his. The hoodie. The sweatpants you pulled on. They’re an old pair that he let you steal just after your most recent breakup, when you’d stayed on his couch for a week straight just so you didn’t have to look at how ugly and empty your own apartment was. Everything. Even down to the socks.

You thought it was hard enough hearing that he was going out for dinner to your favourite restaurant with someone who wasn’t you; nothing could have prepared you for standing in his kitchen at three in the morning, hot under the collar over five seconds of tipsy eye contact, knowing he’s getting undressed behind the door you’ve been staring at for… minutes, now. Actual minutes. 

Oh, you think, feeling your blood run cold. 

Oh. 

I want him.

More minutes pass as you stew in this information — in the knowledge that you’re fucking desperate for the man who has been there for you through everything important enough to remember, and probably everything you’ve forgotten, too. The boy who took you to all of your school dances and was the perfect date, the perfect gentleman, the perfect partner. The man who has sat next to you in the doctor’s waiting room more times than you can count, waiting for results and sitting outside appointments that he told you that you were brave enough to book. Seokmin, who has been under your nose this entire fucking time — you want him, the man who went for dinner with his dream woman, today, and he said she was perfect. Acid burns the back of your throat as you fight not to run all the way back down to your car.

Fuck. It gets astronomically worse. I love him.

“Y/n?” you hear, and his whiny, gentle voice glides across the apartment like it’s been mounted on a cloud, blown straight into your ears. It floats around in your brain in the most beautiful way, and you think there could be love-hearts in the reflections on your eyes even despite the stress you’re now under. It occurs to you that his faucet is still running, and you still have two empty glasses sitting on the counter. How long has it been? Get it together. 

“Just a second,” you call back. Your voice breaks as you say it and you can hear him fucking giggle from behind the ajar door to his bedroom. The fluttering in your stomach worsens, and by the time you’ve shut off the tap and you’re walking through to him, you’re wondering if it’s possible for people to grow butterfly gardens inside themselves without noticing. No-one has ever made you feel this nervous, before. 

Breathe, you tell yourself as he comes into view, already snuggled down against his pillows with the top of his bare chest and shoulders visible in the low light. 

Fuck. 

This is the last thing you needed.

“Hi,” he greets you, pushing to sit up with eyes softer than the glow of the setting sun. “I missed you.” 

You stand corrected. That is. 

“You’re such a loser.”

You set his glass down on his bedside and crouch next to him. “Did you brush your teeth?” you ask, and his face transforms from a stupid childish pout at being teased to a devastatingly bright grin. 

This running joke you’ve shared between yourselves since your first night on the town together illuminates him, and he nods, proudly, his hair falling down over his face. You reach up to push a few strands away from his eyes, despite yourself.

“Sure did,” he tells you, and you believe him but you raise a brow anyway. He’s so pretty. With his playful smile, tongue held between his teeth, his nose a little scrunched. Fuck, how can anyone be so pretty?

“So if I go check your toothbrush, right now…” His smile turns into a laugh, his head lifts into your lingering touch until his cheek is fully rested in the palm of your hand. Stupidly, you tell yourself that this could mean something. Maybe he wants to feel you more.  

“You could find out another way,” he says, his voice dropping half an octave as his already heavy eyelids blink slowly at you. It’s a good thing you’re already on your knees because that tone could have you sinking to the ground in a split. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth fleetingly and you think you’re one more line away from melting into the floorboards. 

“You’re so out of it,” you murmur, shaking your head at him. “Did she make you get the oysters? Are you high on aphrodisiacs right now?”

He groans again and rolls onto his back, a hand dramatically coming up to cover his eyes. 

“Stop talking about her,” he whines. “I’m with you. I don’t wanna talk— I don’t wanna think about her right now.”

“Seokmin-…”

“Y/n,” he interrupts, lolling his head to the side, looking at you through impossibly long, dark lashes from between his fingers. “Please.”

You’re not sure what the pull in his voice is in aid of but you force yourself to let it go, pushing yourself up to your feet before you can fall forwards into him.

“I’m gonna head home,” you say, the quiet between you laying thick and heavy against your skin. “Text me when you’re awake tomorrow, okay?”

He contemplates this for a second, frowning; he doesn’t say anything as you start backing towards his bedroom door. Then…

“Please don’t.”

He says it so quietly. So hushed, you think you might have misheard. So delicate, you hold your breath just in case you somehow manage to shatter the moment. 

“Don’t what?” You ask, stopping in your tracks. He breathes deep and props up on one elbow, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Don’t go.”

Glued to the spot, you stare at him. You feel your head tilt to the side without really controlling it, and an eyebrow creeps up your forehead, slowly. 

“I left some lights on in my apartment,” you say feebly, and even though it’s true, a selfish part of you hopes that he’ll still keep trying to talk you around. It won’t take a lot to convince you. It never does. 

“So?” he asks, the duvet slipping just a little further down his upper half, baring more of his chest to you. “Please. I don’t want to be-…”

You swallow, waiting. The cogs in his inebriated brain are surely rotating at a few hundred miles a minute, his eyes almost desperate. Certainly glossy. Absolutely breath-taking.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Your already fragile resolve snaps under the pressure of his words and you’re moving towards his bed before you can stop yourself. 

“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” you say, offering him one last out if he wants it, but Seokmin just shrugs and peels the duvet back for you to slip in beside him.

“Don’t care,” he mumbles, and you gesture for him to look away so, at the very least, you can shimmy out of his sweatpants. He does, and you do — a few seconds later, with the garment in question folded neatly on the floor by his bed, you’re pulling the sheets over your legs and burying down against his cushions.

His breathing matches yours inhale for exhale and the more you let yourself think about this, the worse you feel even though maybe you shouldn’t. How many times have you drunkenly shared Seokmin’s bed, or how many times has he shared yours? This isn’t new. Even sober, you’ve been curling up together on the couch to watch movies and sleeping with your heads in each other's laps for years. There’s no reason for the guilt that’s burrowing its way deep into your brain, but you can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter how hard you try.

“Y/n?” he asks after a few minutes of you lying stiff as a pair of boards, a few inches of cold mattress between your wide awake selves, both of you staring up at the ceiling. You hum an acknowledgement, and he clears his throat. “Can I hug you?”

Your heart does something you’re a little bit afraid of, but you nod in the dark anyway, before you realise he can’t really see you now all the lights are off.

“Drink some water first,” you tell him lightly. “Then you can.”

There’s something undeniably nerve-wracking about the sound of him obediently swallowing a few mouthfuls from the glass you brought him earlier, even more-so in the way he sets it back down on his dresser. The bed rustles a little as he moves towards you, the sheets shifting over your bare legs, and then he’s got an arm slung over your waist, his head is on the very edge of his pillow, right next to your own… he slides a leg over one of yours, slotting it between your calves, and before you know it, you’re completely wrapped up in him.

He’s warm, and soft, and his fingertips gently soothe circles into your waist where they’ve slipped just underneath the hem of the sweatshirt you’re still wearing. You hum gently, moving your arm so that it snakes beneath his neck, curling up to wrap around his shoulders. This close, you can smell the cologne he will have put on before meeting his date. It makes you dizzy, slows down the neurons firing away in your brain. You wonder what’s going through his own head — what he’s thinking about, being curled up against your side like this. Does he recognise the slight stuttering in your breathing? How cold you are in contrast to him? Will he even remember this, in the morning? Or will you just wake up on opposite sides of the bed tomorrow, all this just a weird, foggy memory in the dark?

His head burrows slightly closer to you and all of a sudden, you can feel him breathing. Every exhale fans against your neck, right where it feels sweetest; Seokmin breathes through his nose when he’s sober, but through his lips when he’s drunk. You’ve never noticed before. It’s maddening. 

“Comfy?” you ask, your voice dry and unsure, and he wriggles a little with a nod to affirm that yes, he is. Something about that makes your cheeks go hot.

“Always sleep better with you,” he murmurs, and your face grows even warmer. You tell yourself he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just drunk. It doesn’t help.

“Then sleep,” you say as his hand moves just slightly further up beneath the hoodie, the tips of his fingers gently tickling your lowest rib. You have to fight back a whine. “I’m here. You can sleep.”

“Thank you, y/n,” he breathes, and you turn your head: now your eyes have adjusted to the low light, you can sort of make out his features, so very close to you. This proves to be a mistake almost instantly, but you can’t look away. His eyes are closed now; you’re glad. He looks too sweet. Too peaceful.

“What for?”

“Everything.”

“Seokmin…”

“No, I mean — everything.”

You move your hand up slightly, fingers playing with the strands of his hair at the top of his neck, and he whimpers softly at the touch. You freeze, and he nuzzles back against your hand to beg you to keep going, so you do.

“You can’t thank me for everything,” you tease him, and he chuckles breathlessly, his palm now laying flat across your rib cage, curling around your side. Holding you. Claiming you, just for now.

“Can,” he protests, and you shake your head. 

“Nuh-uh. Against the rules.”

“What rules?”

“My rules.”

“I didn’t know you had rules.”

“I’ve got hundreds,” you tease, threading your fingers through his strands and gently massaging his scalp. Another whine from him, but you don’t stop. Especially not when he hugs you closer, arm and leg both tightening around you.

“Hundreds?”

“Mhm. Maybe even thousands.”

“Well. Fuck.”

You breathe a laugh at him, and he laughs back; within a few seconds, you’ve both dissolved into giggles, and Seokmin has squirmed even closer until he’s half-covering you, actively chortling into your covered collarbone.

“You’re s’posed to be getting to sleep,” you sigh as his own laughter picks back up following a few seconds of deep breathing and quiet.

“I can’t!” He says. You can feel the pout in his own voice, even with his face hidden. When did he end up practically on top of you? When did your arm slip down to around his waist? 

“You have to. You’re gonna feel so shitty tomorrow if you don’t.”

“I know. M’probably gonna feel shitty anyway, though.”

“Come on. Close your eyes. Count back from a hundred. You can do it.”

It falls silent again, and you delusionally tell yourself that maybe it’s working. Until…

“Can you lie on your side?” He asks, and you sigh dramatically but nod anyway: as he peels himself off you, you roll over, facing the wall in the foetal position. He’s right back against you in a blink though, legs tucked up behind yours, trying to find your hand under the quilt.

“S’this okay?” He asks as he accidentally brushes your thigh in his search, fingers lacing through your own when he finally succeeds. Your now joined hands work their way into the hoodie’s front pocket, and everything starts buzzing when he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Y-yeah,” you swallow. “S’good.”

“Good,” he mumbles. A few deep breaths later, his voice rumbles against your earlobe again. “You looked so pretty for me tonight, y/n. Dressed up in my clothes — you’re so pretty.”

“Go to sleep,” you whimper, grateful at least that at this angle that he doesn’t see how your face scrunches up, how wide your smile is, how ridiculously good he makes you feel.

Euphoria. This is euphoria; you never want it to end.

“Count for me,” he asks, dropping his head down so his brows rest against your back, now. So you do.

“A hundred… ninety nine… ninety eight… ninety seven…”

His breathing is slow and his grip on your hand is slack by the time you reach eighty three. You doze off too, not very far behind.

thank u for reading all the way to the end!! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always appreciated<3

[wonwoonlight]

Soonyoung – idiots to lovers + “I may have lost it.”

900 words~ – a thousand starlights event

It’s not often that Soonyoung is in a completely sour mood that he ignores everyone that tries to talk to him, which is why no one knows what to do when he is.

You’re not really sure what happened, but Chan has called you with a concerned voice saying that you need to come to their dorm as soon as you’re available. Thankfully, you were just out to buy some bread when he called, so you could quickly drive to their dorm after you're done.

The younger guy is already waiting for you by the elevator when you arrive, which makes the situation even more unpredictable for you.

“Chan?” you tap his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, you’re here.” you can practically see the weight lifted off his shoulder he turns to you, a small, hesitant smile on his face. He quickly pulls you with him when the elevator door is open, telling you Soonyoung is in a bad mood and everyone’s getting the end of it.

He can’t even really tell you what happened, because Soonyoung won’t say anything to anyone and he simply snaps at them when they try to talk to him.

“Hosh?” you knock on his door, stumbling on your feet when the door swings open almost immediately. There’s a prominent frown on his face, and you don’t get a chance to say anything because he’s already pulling you with him before he closes the door again.

“Hey,” he sighs, having an idea as to why you’re here. “Who called you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you easily brush him off. “What happened?”

Soonyoung stays silent at this, reluctant to tell you about it, and when Soonyoung is reluctant to tell you about something, you know it’s either he already knows it’s stupid and he shouldn’t have made a big deal out of it, or he knows what he did would upset you.

Sometimes it’s both, but at the end of the day, he’ll apologize and things will go back to normal after that.

“Come on. You know they won’t think of calling me if they don’t think it’s bad,” you nudge his shoulder, trying to get him to talk.

“It’s stupid,” he frowns as he gives in to you.

“As if I’m not used to that,” you try to lighten up his mood, glad that he’s sprouting a small smile at your words. “What stupid thing did you do this time?”

Soonyoung’s silent for a few seconds, but you know he’s weighing his words, not really against letting you know anymore.

“You remember that tiger plushie keychain you made for me?”

“Yes?”

“I may have lost it.”

Silence envelopes the both of you for a moment, because you think he’s going to say more--there’s no way he’s in as bad of a mood as his members claim him to be just because of that, right? But Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, simply pouts at himself as he stares at you as if it should be clear enough why he’s upset.

“Umm… that’s it?”

Soonyoung pulls back like he’s offended, looking at you with disapproving eyes. “I treasure it to this extent and that’s how you’re going to be?”

“Oh, Hosh,” you softly call him as you move to squish his cheeks. “You’re so cute. I can make as many as you want, I promise.”

“That’s not the point,” he whines, pulling away and throwing his body back to the mattress of his bed for dramatic effect. You follow after him, though you’re lying on your stomach with your arms holding your weight as you try to convince him you’re not the least bit upset about him losing the gift.

“This isn’t about you,” he narrows his eyes in mock annoyance, pulling you down with him so you’ll fall against his chest instead. “It’s the sentiment, you know? You gave it to me as a good luck charm for my solo debut.”

“Wow, that feels like so long ago already, huh?” you say as you shift to get comfortable in his embrace. “It’s okay. I’ll design a new one for you, ‘kay? Maybe when you release a solo album?”

You laugh when Soonyoung whines and presses you closer to him, telling you he wants a new one immediately. “Have any idea where you could possibly drop it?”

“It should either be in one of the cars or in one of the dorms,” he sighs tiredly. “It was still with me last night when we came back from the studio. Assuming I didn’t drop it somewhere along the way, those are the only possible places.”

“You’re really this upset because you lost it?” you make sure, unsure what to make of his reaction.

“I told you it means a lot to me,” he softly whispers, clearly displeased at the situation.

“It’s just a plushie, you know?”

“That you designed and made for me.”

You can’t help the way your heart skips a beat at his words and the soft gaze he’s looking at you with. Sometimes you wonder if he knows the effect he has on you, but, then again, Soonyoung is the most unpredictable person you’ve ever encountered in your life and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s just like this without any romance infused nuance towards you.

It is Kwon Soonyoung after all.

The both of you stay like that for a while, with your hand caressing his head as if to make his mood better. The serene scene doesn’t last for long though, because Soonyoung’s phone vibrates and he actually jumps from the sudden notification.

New Message from: 17 Mingyu 18:23

Did you two confess already? I hid the tiger plushie in my room if any of you are wondering :D I knew it’d make you go nuts lol

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

Taglist: @winterciella

[ravixen]

svt + not choosing their team

➔ reaction || not requested || staff!au || leader line

➔ warnings: none || 574 words ➔ words: fluff, gose staff!y/n ; happy monday! i'm sure people noticed that i post at a different time than usual :) still monday, but at midnight est instead of the afternoon. i find that it just works better for my queue. this post is inspired by the wonwoo gose dinner, when all the staff chose different colored ties! i like doing platonic!staff interactions, too, but this is self indulgent. in fact, since i can't write a whole thing right now, this is 100% for my personal satisfaction. if you liked it, please reblog!

SEUNGCHEOL: the poutiest, and i don't say that lightly. he watches as the staff members drift into separate groups, and when he sees that you're clearly not in his, he crosses his arms and gets that determined look you know too well. it's the one with the fired up eyes and the set jaw and the rolled back shoulders and the shoulder-width stance. it doesn't bode well for the other teams—something that jeonghan notices, too, because he taps your boyfriend's lower back as a warning. seungcheol is the competitive type, even when the stakes are low. (his iconic line from seventeen vs going seventeen still rings true.) once we add in the fact that you're rooting for another team? he's going to try his best to make you regret it. he doesn't mean to be a sore loser, but it can definitely come off that way if he's not careful on camera. once he actually talks to you later, though, all of the bravado is gone. what's left is a sulky baby who leans his head on your shoulder, blinks his pretty eyes, and asks why you didn't believe in him.

SOONYOUNG: ok, maybe he's the poutiest. as soon as the staff members start moving, his bottom lip juts out and the complaints start, which is rare for him. his voice is petulant as he says the groups are uneven, there's a clear divide in staff preferences, people are going to regret not choosing him, etc. just reaching for anything he can complain about, but he's mostly drowned out by the overlapping audio as the louder members yell out advertisements for their teams. he's being so obvious about his dissatisfaction, it's cute. it doesn't escape you (or anyone else paying attention, for that matter) that as he circles the groups, he keeps hovering around yours—back to the camera, hands on his hips, pout pointed straight at you. he won't push too hard because you've cast your lot with someone else, and the games are starting soon anyway, but he comes to terms with it fast. i mean, yeah, he'll be super proud of himself if he won with you on his team, but imagine if you took a chance on him and he lost horribly? twice the reward, twice the punishment.

JIHOON: honestly, he wouldn't choose his team either. it's not that he has terribly bad luck; he just has a strange team. team comp diff, he'd say, ignoring the fact that he's lost the pirate barrel game in one shot before. still, when his eyes scan for you in the crowd and spot you in someone else's corner, he can't help feeling a little disappointed...like he's already let you down somehow? he gives a tiny nod of indifference, more to convince himself than anything else, but it's clearly a front while he internally debates: should he try his best to win for his team or should he try to get your team to win? he saw the way you lit up when the prizes were announced, and regardless of the circumstances, he always has a soft spot for getting you what you want. the members like teasing him about it, but he cares about your happiness and that's something he stays unabashed about. as if knowing what he was thinking, seungkwan gives a warning glare and mouths, don't throw the game. alright, maybe having good content ranks higher today.

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Soonyoung: Imperfect (Part 10)

Characters: Soonyoung x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, mild angst??, they talk a lot about like rut and stuff but nothing happens, mention of religion at the beginning, i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything :)

Word count: 3,654

Summary: Soonyoung has always been desperate to find his mate, often going out into town at night to fill the void of imprinting that he craves so much. Then suddenly, you (quite literally) appear in front of him. He’d always dreamed and fantasized about what having his mate would be like, but the reality is nothing like he expected.

a/n: things in bold are in english and whenever soonyoung says reader’s name it’s meant to be reader’s surname

Previous | Next | Imperfect Masterlist

Keep reading

[wonwoonlight]

when jeonghan realizes he's in love with you

friends to lovers (??), fluff, i'm not sure there's even a plot lol. just got this sudden, random urge to write bc i was listening to dream (kor ver) earlier. not sure the wc bc i wrote it on tumblr but it's Short 🤍 not proofread. enjoy!

Jeonghan has always claimed he doesn't think he can date a friend.

It's weird.

And he's pretty emotional (romantic?) of a person, so if there's no spark from the beginning, it's likely that his brain has categorized that person as a friend and nothing else. No chance whatsoever that he'd develop romantic feelings in the future.

Though he's also realistic, so he admits that there might be a 0.1% possibility that he might suddenly like a friend romantically. Who knows, right?

But not you.

Not because he thinks you're lacking, but because you've been friends for too long that Jeonghan was sure that if, and only if, there was a possibility that he'd fall for you, it probably had long passed.

He's seen almost every side of you, so have you his. Hell, he's pretty sure he even treats you almost the same way he treats Seungcheol and Joshua; surely, there's no way, right?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you glare, annoyed.

Jeonghan blinks owlishly; has he been staring at you? His eyes dart to your eyes and then down to your lips for half a second before he searches for your face, both intrigued and curious.

He doesn't register whatever's coming out of your lips, but is it just him or do you actually look flustered the more he stares at you?

"Jeonghan. Stop it."

"Why?"

"The right question is why are you staring at me!" You reaches out to turn his face elsewhere, your palm centimeters away from his cheek when he catches your wrist, his eyes still refusing to look at anything but you.

He sees you pout, and his mind suddenly thinks back about a talk he has with Seungcheol a few years ago, when his friend asked if he'd ever consider dating you because he thought you'd make a good pair.

You had pouted in disgust, told Seungcheol that it's gross to paint that kind of image between you and Jeonghan when you're clearly nothing but friends.

He didn't take that too personally, he remembers, he had simply laughed and agreed. But he also remembers glancing at your lips then, wondering how they'd feel against his, quickly removing the thoughts out of his mind because you're not supposed to think about friends that way.

"Will you be mad if I kiss you?"

Your eyes widen comically, and he would've teased you if he's in his usual mood. But he's not. And he wants to find out if there's a reason behind why he's been adamant about seeing your smile and wanting to stay close to you as much as possible.

"What? Are you drunk?"

"Will you?"

You pause for a second, your eyes searching for him, biting your lower lip before you shake your head no.

His thumb reaches for your lip so you'll release it from your teeth before he places his lips upon yours, his heartbeat ringing in his ears and the tips of his ears burning red.

The kiss (peck?) lasts for a short three seconds (or was it 3 minutes? He doesn't know, he can't think straight with you in this proximity). And when he pulls away, your breath warm against his face, he presses his lips together as if to see whether he can still feel you there or not.

"If you're making all that fuss just to kiss me." You whisper, avoiding his eyes despite the usual teasing tone Jeonghan's used to hear from you. "At least kiss me properly, will you?"

Jeonghan grins. If this is what being in love with your friend is like, perhaps it's not as bad as he thought it would be.

For the first time, he doesn't mind at all being wrong as long as he gets to be with you.

[gyuswhore]

The thing about love;

Hoshi (k.s.y) x reader; university!au

genre: fluff, angst, humour, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, corny jokes, slapping (apologies are given), yelling, alcohol, shitty friends, kind of a mean girl thing (not reader), broken friendships, heavy emotions (at certain points), reader in denial (lmk if there’s anything else)

25.3k words (I will better myself)

masterlist

excerpt: The slap you sent across Kwon Soonyoung’s face sent a reverberating sound across the dance studio.

He looks up, eyes bloodshot and swimming with fury. There’s a hint of a smile on his face for some reason, which you realize may be out of disbelief.

You don’t register anything else other than the rage that accelerates down your own veins. There’s a part of you that wants to do it again when he utters his next words.

“That was a bad fucking idea”

(A/N): FINALLY it's here. Tysm for clicking on this I love y'all tons for the support on all my other work, I hope this one makes the mark too! This reflects more of my personal situations more than you’d think, broken friendships that you’d never imagine to lose hurt like a bitch and I’m so sorry if you’ve gone through this too. Hopefully, Hoshi can give you some solace <3 

Keep reading

[excelsi-or]

chance encounter (jihoon fic)

just a little fun one today! hope you’re all well :)

w.c. 948 (fluffity fluff)

Jihoon and Seungcheol balance the trays of drinks and box of pastries between the two of them. When Jihoon slows, watching the girl working away at her laptop at a window seat, Seungcheol doesn’t notice until he’s partway out the door.

“Yah,” Seungcheol hisses, “what are you doing?”

Jihoon looks between the girl, Seungcheol and then his watch. He has time. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Do you know what sort of shit I’m going to get into if only half of them have drinks and food?”

Seungcheol is completely baffled. It’s unlike Jihoon to even notice women let alone want to stop and talk to them. While he wants to encourage this so he can tease Jihoon about it later, dealing with at least six whiny grown men does not seem like a fair exchange.

“Take the drinks with you.” Jihoon’s already in the middle of fostering the exchange. “Tell them I’m on my way with food.”

“You know when I tell them you stopped to talk to a girl, they’ll insist I’m lying, right?”

Jihoon chuckles. “Tell them that there weren’t enough pastries, but they’re making more. I just have to wait.”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes. It’s an oddly reasonable lie. “Don’t be long.”

Jihoon nods. “I won’t.”

Seungcheol heads out and catches Jihoon walking right up to the girl. His friend seems to ask to sit down and must be well-received, because he pulls a chair.

Wait until the members hear about this.

“Can I sit with you?”

As soon as Jihoon had walked into the café with Seungcheol, his eyes had been drawn to the woman sitting at the window. She had an iced drink at her hand, a plate with remanent of cake and a fork on it, and a laptop in front of her. He’d noticed the furrow in her brow, evidence of intense concentration.

He couldn’t stop looking over at her as he and Seungcheol placed their orders. When they’d sat at a table to wait, Jihoon took the chair with her in view.

He couldn’t waste the opportunity.

And the smile on her face when she looks up at him now is worth it. “Of course.” She glances over her shoulder, gauging the patrons in the café.

He sets one box on the table to slip into the seat next to her. “I’m alone.”

“Oh.” She turns to him, pleasantly surprised. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

Jihoon lifts the other box in his hand. “Picking up food for the members.”

She closes her laptop and turns towards him. “Alone, you say?”

He chuckles. “I promise I’m alone.”

“So,” she leans towards him, “I can…?”

Jihoon closes the distance and kisses her properly. He scoots his chair closer. “What are you doing here?”

“When you left this morning, I couldn’t really focus. Thought I’d come here to work.”

“At a café. Near my work?”

She snorts. “O-kay, Mr. Ego.”

Jihoon smirks. She lived in the area, closer to his work than he and the members even lived. They’d bumped into each other a few times at the gym. Multiple times, he’d asked her if she was done with various equipment to talk to her.

She’d asked him out one day, seeing through his poor attempts at conversation.

They’ve been seeing each other for a couple months now. Not that his members know that. He’s been very careful. Not quite ready to share what he’s found and fallen into, because…

Well, there were multiple reasons at the start.

He can’t quite remember them now, as he studies her. Easy and comfortable in his presence in public.

A knowing smile plays on her lips. He knew he was being obvious about his infatuation. He could study her all day. “You didn’t actually come alone, did you?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t see us. I came with Coups hyung.”

“And what did you tell him? You were going to hit up a girl?” she teases.

Jihoon tips his head both ways. “I might’ve implied that.”

She studies his expression, likely trying to figure out what he’s thinking. She’s gotten pretty good at reading him, but she always does him the courtesy of asking. “And what are you going to tell them when you get back?”

“That I got your number.”

She laughs, a slight throwing back of her head. He notes the fading hickey on her neck and wonders if she knows it’s there. “Based on what you’ve told me, they won’t believe you.”

Jihoon shrugs and pulls his phone from his pocket. He finds her in his contact list. The picture there is one of her he’d taken while he’d been teasing her one morning. Her lying on her stomach looking up at him with her bright smile. His members would infer 100 things about the image if they ever saw it, but he holds his phone up to take another picture of her now.

“You can’t be serious,” she laughs. But she poses anyway with her bright smile, eyes closed, hair flipped in his favourite way. The sunlight from the window makes her ethereal. It’s almost as good as the photo before. Almost.

“There we go.” Jihoon turns his phone to her now. “Who’s gonna check my camera roll anyway?”

“Your nosy members, maybe,” she chuckles.

Jihoon shrugs and gets to his feet. “I should get back.” He kisses the top of her head and she wraps her arms around his waist. “I probably shouldn’t come over tonight. Keep up this new act for a while.”

She laughs and looks up at him. Her eyes are sparkling. “But we can call, right?”

He pecks her lips. “Of course. I did get your number.”

[cheolsblackgf]

bags

⇒ woozi x reader

⇒ word count: 750 (it was last time i checked, but then i added some stuff so just disregard this)

⇒ warnings: none

⇒ content: certified fluff zone; established relationship with dare I say tsundere!jihoon

⇒ note: I originally wrote this in lowercase because it was in my notes app on my phone but decided it looked better capitalised so if I missed a word MY BAD! 살수있게해주세요~ also if this mysteriously goes missing in the next 48 hours it’s because I overthunk it 🫣

“I’m bored.” You say, throwing another crumbled paper ball in the recycling bin. Your boyfriend’s eyes dart to you quickly, before going back to his computer screen. “You’re always bored when you come here,” He remarks, followed by some audible clicking, “I don’t know why you keep coming.” He adds in a barely audible voice. You pretend you don’t hear him, and he pretends he didn’t say anything. He knows why you come here every Tuesday after work and he loves when you come, though he won’t say it in as many words. Ever since you first got into a relationship with him, he’s made it seem like he doesn’t like having you around. Though it’s probably because his confession could’ve been described as embarrassing, you don’t see it that way. (Your name spelled (incorrectly) in butter on a piece of toast, followed by “I like you”.)

At that point in your life, you didn’t have an adequate amount of time to make breakfast since you were always running late, so it was always toast. He picked up on that and managed to catch you one day outside of your office building. The piece of toast was cold, and the butter was barely visible, but he had a whole little speech planned out and even through the obvious sleep deprivation, he was adorable and you’ve liked him ever since.

Now, in order to somehow make up for the dignity he supposedly lost during that encounter (and the relentless teasing from you), he pretends you’re a nuisance any chance he gets. At first, you just thought he was being silly, but over time, and the more he called you silly names very obviously filled with love like “dummy” (your favourite) among others, you realised he was totally committed to this bit. It didn’t annoy you like it may annoy someone else because he’s Jihoon, and you know what he’s capable of.

About six months from the beginning of your relationship, Jihoon invited you to his workplace. it’s a cozy little studio on the middle floor of a big building in the city. It’s about a fifteen minute walk from your office, but you don’t mind it.

At the start, he wasn’t really meaning for it to become a routine or expecting you to come each time, but the more he invited you, the more you built it into your schedule. Tuesday was always the golden day. Work ends early for you on that day, and you don’t have as many errands.

He always orders takeout for you when he knows you’re coming by, too, which might be the sweetest thing. You don’t always get to eat lunch on tuesdays because you wouldn’t be able to leave early if you took the optional lunch break they offered at your office. Jihoon knows this, and he always makes sure to ask you what you’re feeling that day so he can order accordingly.

Today, he ordered fish and chips from the “anything” restaurant down the street. He never gets anything when he orders you food, but he “tastes” your food each time. So much so that you portion off every meal with him. This should bug you, but how could it? You almost never finish all your food by yourself anyways.

“Oh shit,” You exclaim as a notification comes through your phone. It’s the grocery carrier announcing your groceries being dropped off. “I have to go, my groceries are sitting outside my doorstep and I don’t want them to go bad. Damn, I thought he would’ve come later.” You curse. When they say speedy delivery, they mean it.

Jihoon’s pout is barely visible, but when he turns to look at you, you see he’s not thrilled to hear you’re leaving. He goes to grab your bag from the hook on the wall for you, but moves like there’s double sided tape on the bottom of his shoes.

You get up and tidy your area before going to stand in front of your boyfriend to bid him goodbye. He grabs both your arms and pulls you in, causing you to completely forget your script. “See you later.” He says placing a fairly quick peck to your lips. He lets you go soon after, but when you don’t move, he’s confused.

“Do that again.” You request. Jihoon doesn’t usually kiss you. He’s usually on the receiving end because his version of affection involves less intimate contact, which is fine with you. It won’t stop you from kissing him, though.

“You’re pathetic.” He replies, and kisses you again. “Okay, again.”

“Your groceries–” He reminds you, though you haven’t forgotten. To hell with the goddamn groceries.

“It’s just yogurt. Kiss me again.”

“Okay, okay!”

[wooahaes]

head over heels

pairing: non-idol!hoshi x gn!reader

prompt: “Hello! If you’re still taking requests from your prompt list, can I request 7 with hoshi?” and a follow-up ask: “Hello! I’m the anon that requested hoshi+7 and I wanted to know if you could add #29 to my request. I’m dumb and didn’t think that I could request multiple prompts. If you’ve already written it, no problem and just disregard this😅” - anon [from these prompts]

word count: 0.6k~

warnings: some alcohol mentions. mainly just fluff (+ the usual no proofreading & intentional lowercase)

daisy’s notes: anon dw ur not dumb ilysm <3 sorry this took forever

with soonyoung deciding that the two of you were serious, you were now introduced to his twelve friends. eleven, if you didn’t count jihoon–who you’d met multiple times due to being soonyoung’s roommate… and ten, when you removed seokmin from the situation, considering it’d been seokmin who set the two of you up. 

so far, everything seemed to be going well. you were getting along with everyone, you hadn’t broken up with him while they were telling you embarrassing stories. someone had lightly teased him because you seemed so normal compared to him, but they said it was good. while soonyoung wasn’t always high energy and out there, it was good for him to have someone who could rein him in when he needed it.

(they also said all you really had to do was look at him and he’d already shy up again, heading over to dote on you and sneak kisses onto your cheek and neck while no one was looking.)

Keep reading

[satoruvt]

[9:09 PM]

wonwoo, 507 words, fluff, sfw, no warnings.

a/n: life has been nothing but upsetting since ulting wonu. i love him a lot

“You’re still out here?”

You jump a little in your seat, feeling your heart rush suddenly at the sound of another person. Wonwoo’s walking closer to the fire, hands in his pajama pants pockets with a small smile on his face. 

“Yeah,” you say after a moment, trying to catch your breath after your little scare. Wonwoo hums. “I can’t sleep well away from home.”

“Me either, most of the time,” he responds.

To celebrate the end of finals and the beginning of your most conscious summer yet, Soonyoung booked a cabin out in the middle of nowhere. Two and a half weeks of nature and quiet, which was enough to get you to come along. You don’t really know if you’d call it camping, the way Soonyoung and Jun do, but it’s close enough, for now.

You’d met Wonwoo twice before you came out here. The first time at Soonyoung’s house as you were coming and he was going, and the second at your university’s art exhibition. He’d looked dreamy then, round glasses and earthy tones, thoughtful and gentle.

He’s looked even better during this trip. No makeup and fluffy hair, comfy clothes and dirtied sneakers. Soft laughter and a quiet voice. Even now, in the warm, warm light of the fire, he’s tender. You’ve spent a lot of soft moments with him over the last two weeks, sharing thoughts about books and laughing at everyone’s antics.

(And… different moments. Intimate moments. Fingers intertwining and little gasping laughs and Wonwoo’s eyes in the low lamplight in your room.)

“Weird that the trip is almost over,” you murmur, looking at the sky. The stars are so bright away from the city. “Feels like we’ve been here forever.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says. Crickets chirp behind his voice with the flicker of the fire, a beautiful soundtrack. “Any plans once we get back?”

You sigh, rolling your neck before looking back at him. “Work, probably,” you say, hoping he senses the pain in your voice. He seems to, given the half-amused, half-pitying smile on his face. “You?”

Wonwoo hums, tapping his leg and looking around like he’s thinking, but you get the feeling he already has his answer. Especially when he looks at you. “Seeing you more often, hopefully,” is what he seems to decide on, lips pursed in a playful smile.

You will your suddenly pounding heart to calm down, pulling the blanket you brought outside with you further up your body as a momentary distraction. “Yeah? I’m not just a summer fling?”

You mean it jokingly, and you know Wonwoo can tell. But still, he’s kind in the way he answers, “nah. I think I like you a little bit.”

You meet his eyes over the flames of the fire, something a little more still unspoken between the two of you. Sweet and simple, and important even still. So you nod, look out at the forest again in hopes it’ll do something to cool the heat in your face.

“I think I like you a little bit, too.”

[excelsi-or]

heart clench (jihoon fic)

it’s kinda wild that i haven’t really kept up with SVT much the last year outside of their music releases, but jihoon fics are still coming to me. 

kinda wanna catch up on Going SVT this month now because tomorrow is the last day of grad school for me!!

w.c. 1k (fLUFF. i’m feeling soft these days)

This is always the worst part about the night. They can both agree to that.

But Jihoon had made very specific rules about seeing her.

They could spend all day together. They could stay up for most of the night. But he must go home.

Their days together don’t tend to run into the early mornings. Jihoon may be a night owl, but she is most certainly an early bird. So, as the nights get later, she starts to yawn.

“I should get going,” he murmurs now. He can feel her dozing off against him as they watch a new anime together. She agreed to watch them as long as they weren’t gory.

She hums and slowly pushes herself up to sitting. “Let me pack up some of the food so that you can take it to the dorm.”

He lets her pull him to his feet and trails after her, smiling as she yawns all the way to the kitchen.

“Do you want tea?” he asks her.

“Only if you’re going to have a cup,” she comments, her back to him as she looks for extra Tupperware.

Jihoon turns the kettle on.

They discuss mundane things. 2 AM conversations at 11 PM. 

While separating food into various containers, she asks him what makes his heart hurt.

“In a bad way?” he asks. He pops tea bags into a mug for each of them. The steam from the freshly boiled water is warm against his skin when he pours over the bags, the sweet smell of chamomile mingling with the earthy smells of stew and fresh bread from dinner.

“No,” she puts the containers into a plastic bag for him, knotting it carefully. “Doesn’t have to be. Just those moments that make your heart clench.”

Jihoon brings the mugs to the table in her kitchen, taking the seat closer to hers rather than the one across from her. When she sits, the doggy bag set on his usual side of the table, their legs tangle together. He can feel how warm she is from having been curled under the blanket.

“Whenever I sing Circles in front of Carats,” Jihoon decides.

She smiles slightly. “That’s a good one.”

His heart clenches then. That little dozy smile.

“What about you?” He plays with the tea bag in his mug to avoid saying what he’s really thinking out loud.

She tips her head, pursing her lips as she thinks. “Can I be sappy?”

Jihoon chuckles. “You’re the one who brought up the question.”

“My non-sappy answer is seeing my little niece’s face light up when I compliment her artwork. The little dance she does when she gets to eat something she likes.”

“And the sappy answer?”

She gets up to grab a spare plate so that she can take her tea bag out. She doesn’t like strong tea.

“Whenever you go home.”

Jihoon’s breath catches at that answer.

She meets his eyes. A braver human than him by a long shot. He wouldn’t have the guts to look her in the eye and lay his heart bare for her. “I know you set the boundary of wanting to go home and not wanting to stay here overnight.” She shrugs, smiling as she lifts her mug. “I just like you, I guess.”

As she sips, interrupting their eye contact, Jihoon reflects on how to respond.

Early in the relationship, they’d both admitted to one toxic trait. Jihoon admitted to poor communication. She admitted to the inability to be vulnerable.

They agreed to helping each other with the toxic trait. She was the one who asked him what boundaries he knew he had.

“And don’t be afraid to voice new ones as they come up.”

Hence their agreement that he leave every night.

Jihoon had encouraged her to speak her mind. He prompts her constantly: tell me more, please explain. He feels like a shrink half the time, but he finds he doesn’t need to prompt as often. She’s willing to share pieces of herself now, requiring less walls and shields around her heart and mind.

Like telling him she actually really does like him. Not that that hadn’t been obvious, but she’s never voiced it so blatantly before.

“Do you want to know my sappy answer?” he asks.

He waits until the silence encourages her to lift her gaze to meet his.

“When you fall asleep on me. It’s comforting that you feel safe with me.”

They keep talking, their tea cooling, the night stretching on.

By the time, he gets up to actually leave, it’s nearly 2 hours later.

He pauses at the door before turning to her. She stares up at him, dozy expression but curious as to what’s stopping him.

“Did you forget—?” 

Before she can finish her question, Jihoon’s lips have stolen the words from her mouth. When she melts into the kiss, Jihoon’s free hand finds the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. The lines of her body align against his, her arms snaking around the back of his neck.

“What was that for?” she breathes.

They’ve had sex plenty of times. Typically early in the night so that they can fit in another round if they want and so that neither of them falls asleep. The goodbye kisses tend to be chaste. The door’s usually open and he’s halfway through it.

“You said that your heart clenches when I leave,” he says against her lips.

She nods, still trying to catch her breath.

“I want to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because saying goodbye to you makes my heart clench,” Jihoon says. “Because getting to sleep to you might soothe that pain in the morning.”

Her eyes flick back and forth between his, studying him. “Are you sure?”

Jihoon nods, stealing another kiss.

“So, we can go to sleep now?” she asks, her voice small. Worried that he’ll leave if that’s all she can offer him right now.

He kisses her forehead. “Go get ready for bed, I’ll clean the kitchen.” 

Another quick kiss to the forehead. 

Just to see the way she relishes his lips against her skin.

Heart. Clench.

[thepixelelf]

the only way to get a good sleep

genres: established relationship, fluff!! pairing: reader x seokmin words: 1.3k warnings: none :] notes: this is for elv @seokmins day! ((it's technically a recast of an old fic of mine so I'm just praying you haven't read that one shhhhhh))

Seokmin misses you lots n lots.

Seokmin hasn’t slept in days.

That’s an exaggeration, of course, but any sleep he’s gotten has been fitful, restless, and generally not a good time.

He never really thought you’d be a catalyst like this. You only moved in a two weeks ago -- some of your boxes are still sitting unopened in the living room, waiting for you to unpack them. The closet and dresser space Seokmin freed up for you remains half empty, since you were both too lazy to fully move in, more focused and elated on the fact that you’d finally done it. Seokmin had taken weeks, no, months to finally ask the question, and the way you’d answered so easily (with a smile, a laugh, and a hug) made it seem like all his worrying was ridiculous. The move was stressful, and cancelling your rent with your previous landlord was a nightmare, but the fact that you to would be together made Seokmin see everything through rose-tinted glasses. He didn’t care what he had to go through as long as you shared a home at the end of the day.

Of course, you two had slept in the same bed many times before you moved in, but somehow this was different. In the past two weeks, Seokmin swore he woke up already smiling, simply because you were there; beside him; living with him.

But since you left two days ago, he hasn’t slept a wink.

He knows you’re not gone forever, but still, he just can’t force his eyes to close; his breath to even out; his mind to rest. And he doesn’t know when exactly you’ll be back, either, considering your impromptu trip back to your family’s home wasn’t planned at all.

His mind wanders to the last message you sent him.

[my moonlight] miss you too, my sunshine

He lies still on top of the bedsheets, eyes trailing along the bumps and ridges of the ceiling. Sleep won’t come tonight, either -- he can tell.

Maybe he should call you. Last time he tried that (the night before), it got him about an hour of light sleep before he woke up again, but at least it was something. He needs to work tomorrow, and he isn’t sure he can keep his eyes open there after three nights of tossing and turning.

Sitting up, his hand wanders along the bed looking for his phone, which he picks up and detaches from its charger. It’s midnight already. Should he risk waking you up?

Well, he knows you have your phone on silent most of the time, so if you are asleep, he won’t be bothering you. He’s got nothing to lose.

The dial tone rings in his ear twice before he flops back down on the bed, his other hand coming to rest upon his stomach. After another two rings, he almost gives up, but then your voice makes an appearance, and he smiles.

“Trouble sleeping?” is the first thing you say. You really know him too well.

“Yeah... it’s just not the same without you.”

Along with faint footsteps, he hears your quiet laughter through the speaker. “You cheeseball.”

“I mean it,” he says, and he does. “What are you up to?”

“Are you asking me to talk until you fall asleep?”

His smile widens, and he knows he should be trying to keep still in order to fall asleep, but he can’t help it. “Only if you’re willing.”

“Well.” Something dings around you. “As much as I’d love to lull you to sleep, I need you to do something for me.”

“Hm?” Seokmin perks up, his interest piqued.

“I got you something,” you say. “It should be at your door in, hm, twenty seconds?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, still holding his phone up to his ear. His lips purse in confusion.

“How’d you get it up here? Deliveries go to the lobby desk.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” Somehow, Seokmin can hear your smile. “Just open the door.”

Knowing you, Seokmin simply complies, leaving the bedroom to reach the door to the apartment hall. He’s a bit too tired to understand much, but he knows anything from you is worth getting out of bed for. After fumbling with the chain lock, he finally twists the doorknob.

You stand just beyond the doorway, your phone held up at your ear and a bright smile on your face.

“Hey stranger.”

Too tired to comprehend what’s right in front of him, he still speaks into his phone. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

You humour him, talking into your phone as well. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”

He nods. “Uh huh.”

When he sees you laugh and hang up, he glances at his phone to do the same, still awestruck to have you standing there.

“C’mere you big softie, I missed your hugs,” you say, opening up your arms.

Seokmin smiles again and swoops in to wrap his arms around you. He relishes in your warmth, a smile against the skin of your neck -- which he knows you can feel. Slowly, he closes the door behind you and waddles with you through the apartment. It’s awkward with the way he clings to you, but he doesn’t care. He takes you all the way to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with you squished underneath, and his heart flutters at your laughter.

“What’s this?” you tease.

“You were gone too long,” he says instead of answering, and you laugh again.

Despite your playful words, you soothingly pat the back of Seokmin’s head as you speak. “Well, it’s not every day your kid sister dumps her fiance.”

“She’s not a kid anymore.”

“To you, maybe,” you counter. “To me, she’ll always be my kid sister.”

Seokmin hums into your skin, already feeling the effects of holding you in his arms. He’s insanely tired. Still, he cares enough to ask, “How is she?”

“Heartbroken.” You sigh, a frown on your lips that Seokmin can guess is there rather than see it. “But she’ll get better. She’s strong like that.”

“Mhmm...” Seokmin’s eyes are closed -- have been since falling into bed with you -- and he’s starting to drift off. Before he can fully lose himself though, he lifts up on his elbows so he hovers above you, a drowsy smile on his face. He dips low, meeting his lips with yours in a soft, lazy kiss. You reciprocate at the exact same level, simply pursing your lips and not asking for anything more. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes to kiss him again.

Seokmin can’t say which kisses of yours are his favourite; he thinks he may get a new one every time. Whenever your lips are on his will be his favourite, he thinks.

He presses his forehead to yours, mirroring your wide smile with one of his own, eyes drifting shut once again. Collapsing on top of you, he hugs you tight, ready to fall asleep right then and there atop the covers.

“Seokmin,” you whisper, kissing his temple and twisting so you’re on your side. “I need to brush my teeth.”

He groans; hugs you tighter.

You laugh. Your hands move to push him off, though you put no real effort into it. “I gotta change too, sunshine. I’ll be right back.”

Propping himself up again, Seokmin opens his eyes to meet your sparkling ones.

“Hey,” he says. He kisses you again, and your smile persists.

“Hey.”

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, grazing your thumbs over his skin as if to test that he’s real. He loves when you do that.

His lips meet yours; soft, warm.

“You wanna get married?”

“Mmm...” you hum in a sleepy daze. Your hands pull him down for yet another kiss, this one lasting longer, though still as sweet and slow as the others. When you retract, you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “Can I brush my teeth first?”

Seokmin sleeps better tonight than he ever has before.